#sorry this series is turning into me bitching in the tags

[sameschmidtdiffname]

Repentance

Billy x Gender Neutral! Reader

('Burn' gifs are limited and this was hotter. Sue me.)

Summery: You know the phrase 'sleeping angels?' Yeah, not in this fucking house. Pretty soon it's gonna be you or him, but Billy may have a trick or two up his sleeve to provide a happy ending for you both

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specified genitals for Reader, prequel/standalone fic for 'My Ghost' but not required reading to enjoy this fic, ('My Ghost' may even be enhanced if you read this first, I'll be fr.) Porn with plot (if you are only here for plot, the porn is only in the second half and is easily skippable), snoring, Reader is sleep deprived, non-serious threats of violence, mentions of gun violence, banter, make-up sex, drug usage/alcohol consumption, Dom!Billy, Sub!Reader, Reader goes mostly non-verbal after smoking but their thoughts don't, dumbification, Reader gets spoiled and folds like a lawn chair me too bitch me too, massage turning into sex, doggy style, Reader gets that good dick that knocks their head into a wall, vocal! Billy, dirty talk/talking through it, pet names, possessive sex, mentions of wet dreams, happy ending for everyone :)

Other Works in This Series: 'My Ghost' (Original) • 'Lapses' (Sequel to 'My Ghost')

Notes: This was supposed to be a drabble and it was not gonna contain smut. What can I say, when the holy spirit of a short man with big brown eyes compels you, you compel him into your bitch. Anyways, this was inspired by this headcanon written by @g0ry0re0! So if you liked this fic, please thank her as well in the comments and go support her works because this wouldn't exist without it!! They're a fucking great writer as well.

                            -¤°》◇《°¤-

Have you ever killed a man?

I might.

Listen, I'm not a bitch. I'm not unreasonable even though that was a hell of an opening statement. But if you'd dealt with the shit I've put up with for the past few nights, you would understand.

How can a man who's not even that fucking large in stature make such noise? What the fuck is wrong with him?

I kick him to try and hit a reset button. It works for five minutes, which is long enough for me to begin to relax again. Right before his snoring revs up like the engine of that bike he loves parked on our front lawn. Maybe I'll run him over with it. Be poetic, take him out with his own weapon. Don't the reports show just how deadly motorcycles are compared to regular cars? It's bad for your health.

Okay, I'm assuming that bit because I'm tired, I'm cold, and Billy won't shut the fuck up. It was a little cute when he was just spending the night and we were hardly sleeping. But now that he actually lives here?

Kick. Stop. Wait. Snore.

Goddammit.

Billy has the fucking audacity to greet me with a smile this morning. Sitting at my fucking table, smoking from the ashtray I fucking made him. He should be ashamed to look so good with no shirt on, displaying his chest hair for the whole neighborhood to see as he sits near the open window with coffee set in front of him like he owns the damn place.

"Morning beautiful," he says with a smile. What fucking nerve does he have to sit there and act so happy about while I hate him?

"You snore," I growl. His eyebrows shoot into the air, this son of a bitch has the nerve to widen his smile.

"I'm sorry?"

"I said you fucking snore," I repeat.

"Don't think I've heard that complaint before," he says, shifting in his seat to look at me better. I don't like the way he looks in those sweatpants, grey and hugging the wrong areas for my attitude.

"You haven't dated anyone long enough for someone to complain about it," I mutter under my breath. His eyes focus on the oversized shirt I wear that alright, maybe I stole from the drawer I stash his things in that I now claim as mine. We live together, it's inevitable, fucking fight me. Watching me as I walk into the kitchen, taking the coffee pot off the dock and pouring some into my cup.

"Something I can do to make up for it, shirt thief?" He asks, leaning back in his seat and manspreading, his hands on his horribly thick thighs. "I was wondering where that one went," he mutters to himself, amused.

"Yeah. See a fucking doctor."

It's day five. I'm genuinely considering homicide.

Dear God, or Allah, or whoever you are. If I shouldn't suffocate this man, give me a sign.

...does the short snore that escapes Billy's mouth count?

It doesn't matter what I do. If I turn him onto his side, if I kick him, if I shove ear buds in and blast whatever music I can sleep to at max volume, he's louder and I'm on my last straw. It's him or me.

"William," I say, poking my head up from the old pillow.

No response.

Maybe it's safe.

Maybe he's dead.

Maybe he'll stay quiet.

I lay my head down once more.

"...what?"

"You fucking snore."

"I'm sorry baby," he slurs in half baked consciousness, turning to wrap his arm around my waist as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to the back of my neck. "Can I make it up to you?"

"Yeah, let me sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak."

I am weak. I am very, very weak.

"Put your dick away."

"It isn't out."

"I can still feel it."

With a grumble and his face buried in my hair, he abandons his quest in favor of returning to whatever dreams make him keep me up at night. And I am so close to joining him when he starts back up hardly two minutes later. Right in my ear.

With a final huff, I tear the blanket off of him and stomp my bleary eyed way to the living room. Fucker is too sleepy to even notice. Fuck him.

I'm not amused when I wake up in the ungodly hours of the morning sprawled on the couch, Billy's foot in my face as early morning light peaks through the shitty blinds.

"You followed me," I groan, my voice rough with sleep.

"I followed blanket," he slurs.

"It's mine."

"I was cold."

"You snore."

"I've offered consolation, you should take it."

"William, have you ever shot a man?" I ask, bolting upright as I wipe the crust from my eyes.

"Fucking what?"

"Have you ever shot a man?" I repeat slowly, properly enunciating each word.

Billy's eyes dart to the side, then back to me, wide but still tinted from sleep.

"...no?"

"I've considered it," I tell him. "There's a gun in my nightstand. And if I don't get some sleep soon, I'm going to use it. I haven't before, but I can't imagine it's hard."

Billy presses his lips together in a thin line, knowing I'm not serious but that I'm on the last straw.

"... should I go back to bed?"

"I can go back to bed," I say. "You can stay on the couch."

"That's a great idea."

"I'll take the blanket."

"You do that."

It's only two hours later when I'm woken by the alarm, and the smell of sausage is fresh on the air. Even if it was short, the sleep in solitude feels refreshing, no interruptions from Yellowstone volcano on the other side.

When I wander into the kitchen he's in the midst of finishing his preparations for a feast. And by feast I mean a fuck load of eggs with sriracha on top and plenty of sausages to go with it. There's also a pile of toast, the bottle of homemade cinnamon sugar next to the stick of butter besides it.

"Morning beautiful," Billy tries carefully, eyeing me as I lean against the hallway doorframe. "Coffee's on the table."

Whatever I said earlier- which may or may not be blurry to me at this point -has clearly changed his attitude. He's even set out the hazellenut creamer for me, a treat.

"Did you sleep well?" He asks, setting a heaping plate in front of me. I don't know how to tell him I'm too sleepy to eat.

"Better," I say. I take a slice of cinnamon covered toast, trying to convince my stomach to wake up. "Kinda cold, though."

He smiles softly at that, setting down his own plate to join me. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I return the smile, taking a small bite of the corner of my toast. He takes a sip of coffee and brushes his foot against mine under the table. The silence is sweet, apart from the radio just ever so quietly playing in the background to add to the calm morning atmosphere Billy has created for me. His hair is ruffled from sleep, his hand nervously fiddling with the thin chain around his neck. He glances at me, smiles apprehensively, then breaks the silence.

"Do you actually own a gun?" He asks, trying so hard to sound casual.

My brows furrow before I realize what he's referencing, letting out a loud laugh and almost dropping my toast in the process.

"I'm not gonna shoot you, Billy," I laugh, trying so hard to maintain my composure.

"Last night you called me William. I did not like that," he laughs nervously.

"William, I will not shoot you."

"My mother calls me that, I don't want you and my mom calling me the same name."

"Willy-"

"Fuck you," he groans, laughing. "You're terrifying."

"When I don't sleep," I add for him. He nods, eyes wide and brows raising in agreement. "Did you seriously make breakfast because you were worried I owned a gun?"

"When you meet the devil, you meet demands," he says. I kick at his foot playfully, giggling.

"The devil doesn't really eat breakfast."

"I know, I packed lunch too."

Fuck free will, I should've done the gun thing a long time ago. When I walk back into the ramshack house that evening fresh off my shift, Billy has dinner, a bowl and a bath prepared for me upon my return.

"I did not take your comments seriously and I'm sorry," he says genuinely, taking my coat. "I should have and you have suffered. Consider this repentance."

"Repentance is nice. You hide the gun too while you were at it?" I ask.

"I'm not answering that."

Billy may be many things, and a cook is one of them. It's simple, fresh, and nice after a long day. The backrub I'm getting while I eat makes the flavors even sweeter.

"I feel an urge to clarify my threat was not serious," I joke between bites, taking a sip of the wine Billy had run out and gotten special for the night.

"I'm well aware, but this is overdue anyways," he says softly. "You're mine and you deserve nice nights." He presses a warm kiss to the spot just under my ear, making me blush. "My baby needs spoiled."

"Well, I certainly feel spoiled," I say contently, finishing the last bite. I lean back in my chair, letting him explore my neck as his gentle hands work their way through my many knots, whispering sweet nothings in my ear all the while.

"Wait until I tell you what kinds of oils I slipped in your bath as well," he whispers in my ear.

If this is repentance, he should snore more often.

I'm stoned, zoned, and completely naked across the bed as Billy carefully massages my legs, phone propped on a spare pillow beside my head as I stare blankly at the show in front of me.

His hands are slick with oil, gliding across my skin with ease as he works at a knot on the back of my calf.

"I've been ignoring you too much," he muses, his voice soft and loving as his thumbs work in small circles. "You're much too tense for my taste."

I am too stupid to respond with English. I will tell him later about the day I've had at work, running around for fifteen different customers and a boss I can hardly stand. But for now a low moan will do, my mind too blurry from substance use and the stimulation that makes me dizzy with want.

"Does that feel good?" Billy asks, pressing a small kiss against my shin. I moan again, eyes fluttering shut. "Wanna make sure my baby sleeps well tonight."

Oh, I'll sleep phenomenally.

His hands abandon me, searching for the bottle of lavender scented oil, coating his hands before reaching for the back of my thighs, right below the curve of my ass.

"How's the show?" He asks me, digging deeply into my tissue in a way that makes me moan, arching my back subconsciously as the stimulation takes over my thoughts. "That good?" He asks, voice deep as he chuckles.

"Very good," I confirm, my voice soft against the freshly washed bedsheets. I have never said a bad thing about this man. I would never curse the provider of relaxation. Any claims otherwise are false and slandering against me and my man.

"You're grinding against the bed, you realize that, right?" Billy asks bemused, his thumbs drawing deep circles against the inside of my thighs, making me gasp in want. "There something else you want?"

Whatever strain he has given me has made me nonverbal, but the squeak I let out is answer enough. For me, anyways.

"I need words, baby. Words. Vague noises are not consent," he says softly.

"Motherfucker that noise was not vague," I snap, lifting my head up briefly before resuming my mindless appreciation against the bed. Billy's laugh echoes throughout the room, his hand lightly smacking my ass before reaching for the small towel and bottle of lube on the nightstand, wiping off his hands before squeezing a generous dollop onto two digits.

His fingers press against my entrance slowly, coating it with the thick, cold lube, making me squirm and gasp against him, my eyes rolling to the back of my head.

"I'm gonna start off slow, okay baby?" He says gently, still stroking my entrance as he positions himself above me. "You let me know if you want me to change something."

I moan in understanding, but it's not enough for him. His voice is low and rumbling by my ear, his lips teasing at my shoulder.

"Say yes if you understand," he says softly, breath hot against my ear.

"Yes," I say just as soft.

"Good," he praises, pressing a soft kiss to the back of my neck. "Good baby."

His cock slowly sinks inside of me, the pot from earlier making the sensations deeper and more vibrant as I feel the sweet stretch even at the top of my head. Billy moves slow, taking his time to enter me as though we had all the time in the world. I can't help but pant against the bed, whining for more intelligibly as Billy sheethes himself to the hilt, pressing himself against my g-spot just perfectly at this angle, no real effort needed when I'm like this. My eyes roll at the touch, my hips bucking in uneven, stupid rhythms against him as he remains still inside of me. Fuck it, he could snore in my ear right now and I'd let him.

Billy's voice is breathy, moaning as he brushes my hair with his hand. "Let me know when you want me to move," he moans in my ear.

"I am," I whine. "Fuck me."

He chuckles against me, his voice rough as he continues in a slow, even rhythm. "You don't want to go slow first?" He asks, pressing a kiss to my spine as he slowly slides against my spot again, his cock making me clench tightly around him.

"Uh uh," I moan, still trying to buck rapidly against him. "Want more."

"You usually get so overstimulated if I start fast at this angle," he teases, ignoring the pace of my hips in favor of his. "Can't even finish fucking you if I start out fast, you're so sensitive by the end."

That's a lie. Terrible lie. Slander.

"Do you really want me to go fast?" He asks softly, one hand finding my hip to guide me to a better rhythm.

"Motherfucker, yes," I whine, lifting my head. He chuckles, much to my annoyance. "Fuck me like you own me."

At that he grabs my hips, slamming me against his base before he begins to violently abuse my hole, fucking directly into my g-spot and never missing once as he fucks me hard enough to make the bed slam into the wall, making a painting rattle on the wall behind us.

"Jesus- fuck- wait!" I cry, my hips subconsciously trying to escape his abuse while I clench around him, silently begging for more.

He slows his pace once more, pressing such soft, sweet kisses to my spine as he speaks. "See? You can't handle it like that. You're half fucked out already and that wasn't even five seconds."

He's absolutely right and I should listen to him more. How wise is my man.

"If I was really fucking you like I owned you," he says lowly between slow, long thrusts, his hands guiding my hips gently as I whimper with each move like the bitch I am. "I'd pick the pace. But here you are, telling me what to do and changing your mind the moment I give it to you. So indecisive is my baby." Very indecisive. Go fast again. "And I'll do whatever you want like a good man should."

I will stay home with the kids. I will scrub my permanently stained linoleum floor until it shines like the top of the Chrysler building. I will spend my days barefoot and pregnant if he so requests of me. In Jesus's name, Amen.

Billy moves slow and purposefully against me, grinding his cock and moaning in my ear while he watches me, smacking my ass here and there when he wants to watch it bounce against his hips.

"So pretty," he moans. "Even prettier when you cum. Is there something I can do to help?"

I whine against the bed, feeling edged and whoreish with his thick dick pulsing inside of me, fucking me into blind submission and making me willing to do anything he says.

"Would someone like for me to go faster?" He coos sweetly, slightly speeding up his tempo as he slams more gently into my spot. "Does my baby wanna get fucked?"

I nod stupidly, whining and huffing as he slowly continues to gain speed.

"You gonna cum around me? Take my cock real nice and fast?" He asks, smacking my ass once more. I clench upon impact, making him do it again and again until he laughs.

"Cum in me," I moan. All care has been thrown out the window, my head scrambled and vision blind.

"Yeah? You want that?" He teases. His balls smack loudly against my front, offering additional stimulation and making my eyes roll. "Looks like you're drooling over it." Motherfucker I am, and?

"I'm gonna fuck you so good you sleep for days, sweetheart," he moans in my ear, slamming into me hard enough to make me squeal. "Kept dreaming about you for the past week. Kept getting all nice and hard only to have you wake me up before I could fuck you. Come to find out I was keeping my poor baby up, being my own cockblock."

His cock pistons in and out of me at impressive speed, one of his hands slamming against the bars of the metal headboard to offer him stability while he fucks me, the bed ramming against the wall so loudly it's all I can hear besides him. I think the painting fell.

"Now we can both sleep better at night. My balls empty, your ass nice and full. Think I'll do it again tomorrow," he muses, slamming me against the bed, pushing me higher. "And again." And higher. "And again." Until the top of my head pounds against the ceiling. "Till the fucken cows come home."

Moo, bitch. Moo.

With a pathetic scream, hardly able to make any noise due to the violent climax, I cry his name as I clench around him. His dick pounds my head into the wall absuively as he chants my name like it's the only word ever known to him, his voice raising in volume until he's shouting it so clear it raises above the rocking of the bed, loud enough surely for the neighbors to hear. I'm hardly even aware of when he cums, or really anything at this point, his dick pulsing within me and fucking his admittedly larger than usual load into me so deep you'd think there'd be no chance of it to escape. I'm only aware he came when his cock finally softens, our cum dripping and pooling underneath of me in a mixed puddle when he slips out with a small whimper, his breath so heavy and wheezing I'm almost scared he'll pass out on top of me.

"Wanna go again?" He jokes, his voice worryingly pathetic as he tries to laugh, sounding more like a death rattle than anything. All I respond with is a shaky thumbs down, my head spinning from the possible concussion I may genuinely have.

It's an effective sleep method. Works wonders for both of us.

                              ▪︎》◇《▪︎

After he slips out of the house one winter morning with my gun tucked in the back of his jeans, I can't tell you how much I'd give to hear him snore against our lavender scented bed one last time, feeling his arms that are now ash and bones on the floor of a gas station just outside of town. My only company now being his ghost echoing his bright laughter down the darkened halls of what was once our home.

You like my ending bbgirl? Special just for youuu.

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

Masterlist

#josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson fanfic #billy burn 2019 #billy burn x you #billy x reader #billy burn #billy josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson billy #josh hutcherson burn #josh hutcherson burn 2019 #burn movie 2019 #burn 2019 #josh hutcherson x you #josh hutcherson x reader #jhutch #josh hutcherson imagine #billy burn imagine

[teamatsumu]

was i meant to love you? (last part)

pairing: miya osamu x reader

summary: the kanji on your arm says miya atsumu’s name. but every fiber of your being is in love with his twin brother.

word count: 1501

warnings: swearing, some angst, happy ending

tags: @hadukada @utopiamiroh @angstylittleb1tch @sassycheesecake @i-have-no-life-charlie @tsukiran-blog @mommyourcall420 @ak-aaa-li @ti-mame @ellesalazar @seijaelee @hiraethwa

a/n: this is so late im so sorry writers block is a little bitch but omg this is the last part! I hope you all like it xx

previous part // series masterlist

The living room was hardly silent, between the sitcom playing on TV and Atsumu’s incredibly loud chewing, but it still felt like the air was thick and still around you. You were sure it was just you, and not Atsumu who felt this way. It likely had to do with your apprehension, trying to prepare yourself for the topic at hand. You remembered Osamu’s words, drawing confidence from his encouragement. You tried to revise in your head how to approach this, but your bravery was failing you.

How the hell were you supposed to tell your soulmate that you weren’t in love with him?

Osamu’s platonic soulmates theory didn’t sound all too convincing to you, but hearing that it came from Kita did give you some confidence. You were sure Kita would never put forth an idea that he didn’t consider to have merit. So maybe there was some weight to his words. You were still on the fence though. It all depended on what Atsumu had to say about it.

Speaking of, you watched Atsumu slurp down his ramen like it was his last meal on earth, and you could empathize with him. His routine was grueling. A lot went into being a pro athlete, much more than you could have anticipated. You almost felt bad for springing this on him after a tiring day when he was trying to wind down. But you didn’t exactly have any other opportunity for it.

You cleared your throat and shifted in place, turning so you were facing Atsumu instead of the TV. He turned to look at you, slurping up a noodle dangling from his mouth before licking his lips and giving you a look.

“I need to talk to you about something.” You fidgeted with your fingers, unable to look him in the eye. Atsumu seemed to freeze, leaning forward to place his bowl on the coffee table before facing you and giving you his full attention. Somehow that made it harder for you to get the words out. Your mouth opened and closed like a dumb goldfish. Several moments passed.

Atsumu’s hand landed on top of your own, halting the nervous movements of your fingers. You closed your eyes, feeling a sudden wave of shame wash over you.

“Just say it.” He spoke gently, as if understanding the turmoil going on in your head. You looked up at him, at the calming brown of his eyes and the soft curl of his mouth, and you felt yourself tear up.

“You don’t deserve this.” You breathed, shaking your head. “I can’t do this to you. I’m a horrible person.”

His lip ticked up in a little smile. “Ya gotta give me more than that, babe. I have no idea what yer talkin’ about.”

“I don’t-” You felt the words pour out of you like vomit. “I don’t think I love you. Not like I should. And it’s tearing me apart because I care for you so much and Osamu told me about this thing called platonic soulmates which sounds like bullshit, I know, but it explains the way I’m feeling! But sometimes I just feel like I’m a bad person and this is my way of justifying it-”

“Wait-”

“And I do love you. So much Tsumu, you’re my closest friend and you understand me so well but I don’t feel it romantically at all, which is so fucked up-”

“Hey!” You stopped short, staring at the man before you with teary eyes. You expected him to look horrified. Maybe confused. Definitely hurt. But all you saw was amusement.

“Ya gotta cool it.” He grinned, running a hand through your hair while the other squeezed yours comfortingly.

“S-sorry.” You choked out, sniffling a bit.

Atsumu sighed, staring down at your joined hands. The moment was silent except your wet sniffles, and the very low volume of the TV playing in the background. You watched as Atsumu smiled a bit.

“I’m relieved.” He spoke up, and you blinked at his words. “I always thought I was a fuckin’ asshole, ya know? ‘Cause yer so beautiful and a great person. But kissing ya was kinda painful.”

You gasped. “Hey!”

“Yer telling me the thought of layin’ a smooch on me didn’t make ya wanna barf?” Atsumu retaliated, and you fell silent, still sneering. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head.

“What did ya say it was called?”

“Platonic soulmates.”

Atsumu hummed. “Makes sense. Yer my best friend.”

You smiled at that, squeezing his hand. “And you’re mine.”

When he opened his arms, you fell into them, reveling in his embrace. Somehow, it felt ten times better than any time you had hugged him. You figured it had to do with the fact that your chronic guilt was not bothering you anymore. You buried your face in Atsumu’s neck.

“I love ya.”

“I love you, too.”

A bout of silence.

“But not like that.”

You let out a laugh. “I get it, Tsumu.”

“Just wanted ta make it clear.”

“Shut up.”

And he did. You smiled and settled into him, feeling lighter than you had in years.

……………………

When Osamu saw the look on Atsumu’s face, he immediately froze. He knew, in that instant, that you had talked to his brother. He just knew Atsumu too well to not know any change in his demeanor. And his demeanor had definitely changed. Except it wasn’t the change he was expecting.

Atsumu looked more relaxed. Happier, even? Maybe that was going too far. But then his twin was grinning up at him and settling into a stool in front of the counter, and Osamu could no longer ignore the spring in his step.

“What’s got ya so preppy?” He tested, trying not to build up his hope. Atsumu grinned.

“I just got answers ta some really old questions.” He replied, and Osamu raised an eyebrow.

“Wanna tell me what yer talkin’ about?”

And Atsumu did, sounding jovial, and with a light tone. Osamu stayed rock still as he spoke, unable to believe that Atsumu too had felt this way his whole life. He was almost shocked that he had missed such a huge part of his brother’s feelings, but it was overshadowed by the kindling of hope in his chest at the prospect that he could actually be with the girl he loved.

So when Atsumu had stopped talking, and Osamu had served him a plate of fresh Onigiri, he worked up the courage to drop another bomb on his twin. One that was arguably worse than the Platonic Soulmates one.

“Tsumu,” he began. “What do ya think about her datin’…. someone else?”

“Hm?” Atsumu looked up at his brother. “Why? She like someone?”

Osamu nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat. He finally let the words leave his mouth.

“M-me.”

Atsumu stopped eating then, eyes meeting Osamu’s. Osamu felt like he was holding his breath, heart racing.

“I like her too. Uh, it’s- I’ve liked her for a while. Didn’t do anythin’ for obvious reasons, ya know.”

Atsumu sighed, turning back to his plate. He bit into another rice ball.

“What is this? Kimchi mayo? It’s real good.”

Osamu blinked, trying to fight off his incredulity in favor of staring down his brother.

“Are ya for real?”

Atsumu rolled his eyes. “Samu, ‘m not really shocked. It’s pretty obvious ya got a thing for her. And I don’t have anything with her at all, so if ya wanna date, go ahead.”

Then he gave Osamu a lopsided grin, and Osamu felt like everything in the universe had just fallen into place.

“Ya better not break her heart though. She’s still my soulmate.”

Osamu’s smile was genuine. His relief was immense. He felt almost stupid with joy at that point. And he realized he gave Atsumu far less credit than his due. His brother had just stumped him completely, and he couldn’t be more grateful.

“I won’t.”

………………….

Your and Osamu’s first kiss wasn’t anything to write home about. It was at a train station, rushed and messy, so quick that you almost didn’t feel it. It was immediately followed by a feeling of regret, panic and guilt. Something you both wanted so bad, but couldn’t have. So forbidden that it broke your heart into pieces.

Your second kiss was the exact opposite in every single way. Everything that had broken your heart seemed to mend now. Heart and stomachs both full after the wonderful date you had just been on, when Osamu finally leaned down to press his lips on yours. It felt like every fiber of your body had been pulled taut and then released, and your hands felt shaky as you finally allowed them to run over his body. His own grip was worryingly tight, arms enveloping you completely, not that you minded. You reveled in the feeling of his mouth, hoping you never stopped kissing him. Hoping he never let you go.

The kiss did end. But he never let you go.

#miya osamu x reader #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #miya osamu angst #miya osamu x you #miya osamu x y/n #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #hq fluff #miya atsumu x reader

[hvnnibvni]

Together Again | JJK *part 1*

Pairings: Jungkook/Reader

Genre: Mature themes. Romance. Angst. Arranged marriage AU. Childhood best friends to lovers AU.

Warnings: cheating, reader is a rope bunny (ALLEGEDLY), hard!dom JK, switch!reader, reader likes to be slutted out, drunken sex, unplanned pregnancy(this is in the end dw😅), cunnilingus, oral (both receiving), fighting (talk shit get hit) daddy!kink, praise!kink, dirty talk, spanking, hair pulling. Just all around nasty y’all.

Summary: After reader finds her long-term boyfriend in bed with their mutual friend. She moves back into her family home, but under one condition. She has to marry her childhood friend that has been arranged since their childhood. For a wedding gift they go to a mountainous getaway with a group of friends, reader is told that ex and mutual friend get invited, so reader and jk decide to pretend not to know each other to avoid any confusion or miscommunication.

Authors note: Hi! Sorry it’s so late but here it is. I hope you guys enjoy. I’m making this into a series. I feel like it’s a little unprofessional not to have a masterlist but I’m working on that too. Just bare with me please in new to this lol. Also feel free to ask me any questions, or express your honest opinions Im all ears good or bad. Should I make a tag list?

——————————————————————

‘How the fuck did I get here’

You thought as you sat in you car, filled with you things. You had just left the home YOU bought after catching your boyfriend Yunwoo cheating one you.. With your supposedly best friend. Sitting there thinking, you should’ve saw the signs. They were there right in front of your face. You felt like a fool. Luckily you’ve always kept a cool head, or else you would’ve done something you’d regret. You honestly wished you did. You wanted them to hurt just as much as they hurt you, but you knew if wouldn’t change anything so why stress yourself out about it. But silence is the best way to get under someone’s skin isn’t it. No matter how much he cried and apologized. You didn’t turn back, you’ll never go back to him. That a promise you made to yourself on you journey back home.

Earlier that day:

“Hey y/n what can I get you” the barista, you’ve gotten to know over the years asks, “Let me have my usual please Janine, oh! And can you serve it really hot please, thank you.” You were making you your normal daily rounds that day, which normally started out with a hot coffee at your favorite cafe when you realized you forgot you wallet back at the house. “Ah actually scratch that. I seem to have left my wallet at home.” You say, making the sudden realization. “You know what don’t walruses about it it’s on the house,” Janine says with a smile. “That you so much I appreciate the generosity, but I have to go back home anyway. I’ll come back and pay for the coffee.” You just couldn’t shake this strange feeling telling you to go back home. Your boyfriend of 5 years seemed was acting strange this morning. Being overly sweet all of a sudden, waking you up, making you breakfast. It just seemed like he was trying to get you out of the house.

when you pull into the driveway you see his car still out front, but you didn’t find that as strange as you best friend, Cristal car along side his. “Strange,” you say to yourself as you pull into the driveway. She never texted that she was coming over, but you check you phone to be safe. But you still can’t shake the uneasy feeling you have in your gut that something fishy is going on inside your home without you knowing. The calm rational you is telling you to just walk in your home as if it’s nothing, but the bad bitch part of you is telling you to unlock your fence and sneak in though the back door. So that’s just what you do. As you’re sneaking inside your house you notice clothes spread all across you living room floor training up the stairs to your bedroom. “Oh hell nah I know these motherfuckers ain’t- okay.” You whisper to yourself as you tiptoe up the stairs.

As you reach your bedroom you hear the faint sound of laughter behind the door. You decide to listen in on the conversation before letting your presence known. “Why don’t you just leave her already. She can’t make you happy the way I do.” You hear Cristal say. “I’m just waiting for the right time Cristal you know how she can be. She so clingy, she acts like she can’t live without me,” Yunwoo explains to Cristal. You scoff to yourself as head this. “Mmcht yeah right like this isn’t my house you’re freeloading it.” You number to yourself as you lean in closer to get a better listen. No one knew that you were he one that made all the money between you two. Yunwoo didn’t have a job and was too embarrée to move back in with his parents after he dropped out of college. So you bought this home for the both of you to stay in. You on the other hand were and heiress to one of the most biggest, prestigious designing companies in the world. In other words you’re the 1 percent of the q percent. But you’ve always kept it a secret, because it is taboo to mention your wealth in front of other people who are less fortunate.

“well I just don’t see how it’s right to keep pretending and leading her on like this. Im starting to get annoyed just looking at her. She’s so pathetic.” At this point you e already opened the door. They look at you in shock to see you home this early. “Y/n-“ you hold up your hand. Not trying to hear a single word coming out of yunwoo’s mouth, already disgusted. You don’t speak of give them the time of day. Of course you have lots to say, say you listened to their conversation you realized that these people were below you. These people betrayed your trust, and defiled your home. They’re worth less than the dirt on a dog’s paw. And what do you look like speaking to those who aren’t even worthy enough to lick the dirt off of your dogs feet? “Y/n please let’s talk about this like adults.” Yunwoo pleads. All you can do is scoff ass you go around the room and gather your things.

“Yunwoo baby just let her go. You don’t need something like that anyways. She’s not worth the time,” Cristal says picking through her nails. “You know what Cristal you’re right. I don’t need this. I deserve better and y/n baby you can’t give that to me. I’m on to better things in life. While you’re going to be stuck a sad, lonely, bitter, insignificant, bitch no one can stand. So go on. Leave.” Yunwoo, who has more than audacity says to you. You, the classy person you are smile at him, gather your clothes, jewelry, and dog walk away. Leaving everything behind.

#bts jk #bts ff #btsedit #jung hoseok #kim najoon #kim soekjin #kim taehyung #park jimjn #bts army #jungkook x reader #cheating au #childhood friends au #jungkook fanfic #fanfic #friends to lovers #bts au #jungkook #jungkook smut #bts smut

[lexisecretaccx]

Valentino Pt. 1 - Chris Sturniolo

I’ve chosen to not continue this series I’m really sorry y’all I just don’t feel drawn to the storyline! I will write more Chris fics but this one’s hard to get into writing❤️😞

(Fem reader x Chris sturniolo, not smut)

“Why do you even want those shoes?” I look up at my friend Lizzie and I don’t say anything. “They just seem like a waste of money, money you don’t have.” She huffs before continuing to eat her fries. I put down my burger before saying “Firstly they aren’t just any shoes! Have you seen them? and you’re wrong, I do have the money for them I just got my bonus. So I’m gonna spend my well earned money on them.” She rolls her eyes and finishes up her food. “I’m gonna head off now, but don’t come running to me if you lose all your money on stupid shoes.” Before I get to say anything back she walks away.

Bitch.

Who is she to tell me what to spend my money on? If I want to blow 1000$ of my money on some shoes then I can and will. She’s just jealous because she got fired for stealing from her job. Okay the more I think about it the crazier my decision sounds. 1k for shoes? Fuck it, I want the shoes so I’m gonna get them.

I walk into the Valentino store and I feel like I shouldn’t be here. I’m wearing lowrise jeans and a cami top, most the women in here are wearing fancy dresses and are with men who look like they walked straight out of The Godfather.

I know exactly what I’m going to buy so I head over to the shoes.

There they are ‘VLOGO SIGNATURE SATIN SLINGBACK PLATFORM PUMP 120MM’ I look at the price tag. 1300$. Shit I hope I have enough. I should right? I start getting nervous and I’m getting glared at by some lady standing with her husband. If looks could kill I swear I’d be carried outta this shop on a stretcher.

I get to the cashier and straight away I get judged by the man behind the counter. What’s up with judgy rich people. “You’re buying this?” The man asks and I look up with an offended face. “Yes I am, why do you seem surprised?” He just shrugs and adds up the total. I can feel someone waiting behind me and I don’t want to hold up the queue.

“Insert your card please.” The man says impatiently, I put my card in and type the pin before removing it again. My worst fear comes true when the card reader says ‘DECLINED’. My heart drops and I feel my face go red and I start shaking. “Sometimes it does that, try again.” The man repeats but this time he sounds even more annoyed. I try again. ‘DECLINED’.

“I’m so sorry I..” I stutter and can’t get words out because of how embarrassing this situation is. I feel someone’s brush past me before the person who was behind me inserts their card into the machine. “What, no don’t do that! It’s a lot of money and-” “I got it.” It’s a man’s voice and I go to turn to face him my mouth still open in shock at how easily he paid for it.

“Um ok, here’s your bag miss.” The man behind the counter hands me my bag with the shoes inside. “Thanks” I mutter. When I turn back the guy who paid for me is walking away. “Hey!” I call and he stops and turns on his feet to face me, he’s got brown hair, blue eyes and cheekbones that an everyday man could only dream of having. “Yeah?” He looks at me with confusion plastered across his face. “You didn’t have to do that back there, that was so much money I-” he smiles slightly. “Yeah well you looked like you were about to curl up into a ball and cry, I felt bad so I paid for you is that a problem?” He tilted his head slightly and a strand of hair fell into his face.

“I just don’t want you to waste your money on someone you don’t know.” I say with concern.

“Don’t worry bout it, what if I got to know you, then I’m not ‘wasting my money’ on a stranger?” He smirks at me and I look at him surprised at what he had said, “are you like asking me on a date or something?” He chuckles “yeah I guess I am, wear those pretty shoes I bought you.” My jaw drops. This feels like it’s straight out of a movie, he’s gorgeous and.. “Are you gonna accept the date or just keep gawking at me?” I feel my cheeks go red, “uh yeah I accept.” I laugh nervously, he gets his phone out and hands it to me.

“Put your name and number in there.” He says while smiling and I type my details in before handing his phone back to him, I can’t help but notice his veiny hands and how much bigger they are than mine. “Y/n.” He says. I look up at him, “yep that’s my, uh name.” I chuckle nervously again before looking away. He chuckles at my awkwardness.

“I’ll text you about the date, and I’ll send you my details so you can pay me back.” He says with a stern look. “Oh yeah of course, I was gonna ask you about that I can-” He interupts me by laughing “I was kidding don’t worry about it, you paid me back by agreeing to go on a date with me.” He smiles, “wow that is, cheesy to say the least.” I smile and start laughing with him “yeah I don’t know why I said that sorry.” We both laugh and he looks down at his phone, “I gotta go meet my brothers but I’ll text you!” “Yeah thank you so much again.” He smiles “no worries” and he starts walking off.

I can’t even fathom what just happened, I look down at the bag of shoes and realise that I have my dream shoes, 1000$ and a date with a hot guy.

Suddenly a text pops up on my phone ‘unknown number’ that must be from him.

A/n : Omgomgomg this is my first fic in a while and I kinda love it. I really hope you guys enjoy and I don’t know if this is good so imma reread it a few times to check for mistakes🤍 I don’t really know how to write fics but hopefully this will go good!!

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolos #chris sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo #Valentino #series #part 1 #fanfic #triplets #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo

[randomperson3736]

It's all my fault

Paring(s): Lo'ak x twin! Reader, Neteyam x sister! Reader, Neytiri x daughter! Reader, Jake sully x daughter! Reader, Tuk x sister! Reader, Kiri x sister! Reader, the sully's x reader

Genre: angst, kinda fluff

Warning(s): Character death, wounds, blood, crying, sad, fighting, get punched, swearing

Word bank: Y/N- your name, Ewya- great Mother

Notes: I am so sorry that this has taken so long for me to write/post and the reason for it is because I've been having some trouble finding ideas on how this part 2 is gonna go but thankfully I found some and I really hope u enjoy. Also I put a link to part 1 if Ur new to this mini series. P.S it was kinda rushed so it may suck.

(Listen to this while reading)👇👇👇

Part 1

TAG LIST: @sully-stick-together , @users09, @bobojojoba69 ---- I am so sorry I couldn't add some of the people who asked to be added 🙏

Y/N ran for what felt like forever, even though in reality it was just a few minutes. Tears stained her face but she didn't care about that since more kept rolling down from her yellow eyes. Her heart was pumping in chest, shallow breaths could be heard. She tripped on a fallen tree branch, her body trembling to the floor. Y/N didn't bother getting up, so she just curled up into a ball and sobbed. She thought back to the earlier event with Lo'ak. Never in her whole life had she seen him so angry, and never has he ever snapped at her once not even when she was annoying.

She felt like she had pushed too hard on him but deep deep down she knew it wasn't his fault, it was his. Soon her red, puffy eyes started to close as sleep took very quickly. Y/N could hear the soft breeze flowing though the trees and brushes, it also tickled her skin as her neck hairs stood up. But little did the young girl knew a massive Strom was coming and it wasn't just any ordinary Strom, this Strom started long before any one of her siblings were born this Strom has been going on for a long time. And it was ready for its revenge.

~timeskip~

Lo'ak didn't know where his twin was, no one did. His mother and Neteyam had been looking for her for atleast 2 hours and there has been no sign of her anywhere. Worry and guilt started to fill his stomach as his mind conjured up the worst case scenario. Her dead. Non-breathing Unmoving. Her blood everywhere. He tried to shake that thought off but it was still there lingering around the back of his mind.

In the background, he could hear Tuk crying as Kiri tried to comfort her but he knew she needed to be comfort juts as much. He knew it was his fault. He knew what he did was wrong and that he shouldn't have done it. He knew he needed to find her cause somewhere deep down in his stomach he knew where he was. So he slipped away making sure no one saw him as he ran off into the forest to find his twin.

~back to Y/N~

When she woke up again, she hadn't realised how long she had been asleep. Y/N didn't even know where she was. Suddenly large hands grabbed her, pulling her roughly up on her feet. She tried to scream but before she could cold metal touched her skin.

"You so much as scream or yell out for help... I'll blow your brains out" his voice was deep, sounded like he had no soul. Y/N just nodded not wanting to provoking him and possibly getting killed. She looked up to see atleast a glimpse of her so called kidnapper. She noticed the human like clothing he was wearing. He was an avatar. Probably from her father's past. She just hoped her father and mother or someone would find her before it becomes too late. But she knew that if someone didn't find her in time the worse will happen. So, she did the most stupid thing she has ever done. She bit down on his arm, hard. Very hard. The guy yelled out in pain before he turned around to face her. "You fucking bitch!"

The next thing she knew a loud bang could be heard and then everything went black.

~back to Lo'ak~

He could hear someone yelling in the distance, sounded human? He been in contact with fake Na'vi before and he definitely didn't like them. Lo'ak pulled at his knife, grip tight around it. He prayed to Ewya that Y/N was okay, she had to be, she needed to be. He couldn't lose her. She was the only one who understood him and never thought of him as a fake.

*BANG*

His head moved towards the direction of the loud bang, his briads covering his eye. His heart was beating so fast and so hard against his chest he thought it was going to pop out. He started to run towards the danger not caring about the out come he just needed to know that his twin, his ride or die wasn't at the end of that bullet.

A body soon came in view, it seemed to be covered in blood. As he got closer he finally saw who that body belong to. It was Y/N. His twin. His best friend. Tears started to form in his eyes as he pushed his legs faster. Faster to get to her. Faster to make sure she's live and not dead.

"Y/N!" Lo'ak's voice was shaking, fear feeling his stomach. He dropped om to his knees hard. Probably gonna leave a couple cuts on it but he didn't care all he cared about is her. "L-lo'ak?" Her was so quite, also like a whisper. He carefully moved her head onto his lap, making sure to put pressure on the gun shot wound on her lower abdomen. She let out a pained sob as more pain shot through her body. "Sorry, sorry. I know it hurts but I have to put pressure on it"

Y/N just started up at him still trying to process what happened just a few minutes ago. Her eyes slowly started to feel heavy but she tried to fight it just for a little longer. "Keep your eyes open" he spoke sternly, panting as he desperately spoke to her. Fixing his hand on her bleeding wound to try and stop the blood from leaving her body. Not once had she seen him look so vulnerable, so desperate. "Stay with me, don't-don't close your eyes" his voice was laced with something unfamiliar, a tone which Y/N had never from him before. Desperation was it? No, it was something more, something more painful.

"Y/N damn it" he cursed under his breath, holding her limp body now on his lap. His voice now filled with panic, "Please" that one word. That very word seemed to be so much more painful than the wound on her stomach, was it his tone? Was it the way he said it? Or was it the way his eyes looked, the way his eyes stained with tears.

Y/N could barely think, but everything looked clear despite the tears that clouded her eyes. The pain in her heart was greater than the pain from her stomach. Y/N wasn't ready, she wasn't ready to leave him, not ready to leave her family, not when she still had so much to live for. "Lo'ak" her weak voice called out for him. Perhaps his mind was playing a trick on him but he saw that same old smile om her face, a weak smile but it was still the same. "No" he cuts Y/N off, he couldn't hear what she was about to say, he refused to. Lo'ak knew exactly what she was planning in saying and he's far from accepting it. "Save your energy, don't-"

"I'm sorry, L-lo'ak"

"Y/N you can't, I can't" tears started to fall faster down his face now. "I'm the one who should be sorry, you have nothing-" Y/N cut him off by placing her hand on his cheek, wiping the tears that slipped away. "No. You don't have to apologise, Lo'ak" he cried quietly, but he felt everything all at once at that moment. Nuzzling his face into her now cold hand, weeping uncontrollably, no caring about who saw. "I can't do this without you. I-i'm so sorry about yelling at you, I d-didn't mean too just please don't leave me"

"Y/N please" he pleads, but he knew she was growing more weak by the clock. "Lo'ak. Y-you have to let me go" her hand slipped from his face as her eyes relaxed as her pupils widened, the blood stopped gushing out from the wound on her stomach and her heart stopped just as her chest went flat with her very last breath. "Y/N?" He looked down at her now limp body. "Y/N?! NO, NO, NO! PLEASE!" Lo'ak let out a pained scream, a scream that could be heard from the village. That scream got the attention of his family, making them run off into a sprint trying to find the source of the pained scream.

Neteyam and Jake were the first ones on scene and the site in front of them made their whole worlds come crashing down in one blow. Jake's body went numb, his expressen was emotionless, but his eyes told another story as tears rolled down his face. He started at his daughter, he couldn't except the fact that his babygirl was gone for good. He could hear his family's sobs from beside him, as he watched Lo'ak pulled his twin closer to his chest begging for some sort of sign that she was still alive but he knew that she was with Ewya now. "Y/N NO PELASE! OH, GREAT MOTHER PLEASE!" Lo'ak's voice was scratchy, shouting Y/N's name over and over again. His sobs were loud and controllable, he cried out for their great Mother begging her to bring his twin back. But deep down he knew she was never coming back. Neytiri moved closer to their son and fallen daughter, taking her limp hand into her own trying to find that familiar warmth that was always there but it cold.

Neteyam moved to sit next to Lo'ak with Y/N's unmoving body still in his lap. Neteyam knew that he and thier father had to move her body but he was frozen in place. He couldn't process it, no one could. He watched his father moved slowly towards Lo'ak to try and get their sister out of his grip. But surprisingly Lo'ak let go without trying to fight it. He looked so empty, almost like a shell you find at beach. It broke Neteyam's heart to see his brother like it but he knew he couldn't do anything to help with the pain Lo'ak was feeling m.

Neteyam watches as his mother sobs and screams over their loss as his tears fall onto his little sister's thigh. He places his hand on lo'ak's shoulder trying to comfort him in some way, but he knew that even himself couldn't stop the feeling of emptiness in his heart cause he too had that exact same hole in his. Lo'ak started at his shaking hands that were covered in his twin's blood. His head tilts back as he realised he just lost his twin sister, the one person who was always there for him when he had a nightmare or when their father would yell at him. She was the one soul that never thought of him as a freak or as an outcast and now she was gone. All beacuse of him. She was died because of his stupid mistake.

~sad bonus~

(Set four weeks after Y/N's death)

Lo'ak barely slept or ate, and even if he did he would just wake up screaming or throw up the food he actully ate. Neteyam and Kiri had tried over and over again to try and get him to atleast sleep for a few hours or eat something even if it was small. But everything they tried didn't work. Lo'ak just stayed in the same stop, staring out at the ocean, not moving an inch. This concerned the whole family but they knew in time that he would heal.

After everyone had left Lo'ak tried to get some sleep knowing that Y/N wouldn't want him to do this. He smiled for the first time in weeks at the thought first her yelling at him about this is unhealthy and that he could die too young. His eyes soon fall as sleep took over his mind. When he woke up he was in a dark room with only one bit of light and under that light was a young women just around his age or maybe Neteyam's.

"Hello?" He called out to the mysterious lady but only to get ignored. Until she turned around. Lo'ak's eyes widened in shock as tears started to form. His legs started to move on their own as they walked towards her. Y/N. His beloved twin.

"Y/N"

"Don't"

"It's not your fault, Lo'ak"

"..." lo'ak looked down at his feet and stared to play with his finger, a trent he had picked up from her when she died. "You have to let me go"

"I can't- I won't hear you out"

"Lo'ak, please"

"Just- just a little bit longer. Let me hold onto you for just for little bit longer. Please" the tears he had been holding onto finally fall, rolling down his cheeks. He didn't want to let her go cause if he let her go he wouldn't be able to see her smile or hear a laugh again. "Lo'ak I'm dead. Let me go"

"No, no, no please- please don't let me leave. I need to be here with you" his voice held so much pain as his spoke. Y/N just turned her body to the face the other way and started to walk away. "Wait-" before he could get the words out a strong wing started to blow him away, pulling him back into reality once again.

Neteyam had just came back from the beach to check on Lo'ak and see if he had moved from his spot. He was just about to walk in when he heard a loud sob from inside. Without thinking Neteyam ran inside to find lo'ak gripping his chest, his breath heavy, tears rolling down his face. Neteyam felt his heart break even more from the site infront of him. He couldn't stand to see his little brother like this. None of them could.

Without thinking he moved towards Lo'ak and pulled him into his chest, hugging him tight. He shushed his brother and whispered sweet things in his ear trying to calm him down. Lo'ak just held onto his brother as he cried out for his twin to come back. But he knew she was never coming back.

#avatar way of water #fypツ #jake sully x daughter!reader #neteyam #lo'ak sully x twin! reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak #sully family x reader #kiri #tuk #jake sully #Neytiri #x reader #x twin reader #sad #Spotify

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for kicking someone from my server and not explaining why?

(emojis so I can find later: 🪨🪨🪨)

[This happened a few years ago, but I’ll write the ages as they were at the time.]

I (14M) made a server for a fandom I was in. It was a small fandom (I was mutuals with every single fan on tumblr) so I thought it’d be nice to have a place we can all talk other than the tumblr dashboard. This was also not my first server — I had 2 or 3 years of experience running them (having run a server with 100ish members a year or two beforehand) so I was fully confident in my ability to run a server with less than 20 people, especially since everyone knew each other and was friends already.

Now, there was this person in the server, we’ll call her B (16F). I wasn’t super close with her, but ofc I was friends with her through the fandom. We didn’t talk much — the only time I can recall us speaking outside of discord was to send fandom art requests to each other. Obviously I didn’t have a problem with her coming in, but as she spoke more in my server, I started to question whether she was somebody I wanted hanging around.

I won’t go into full depth of things she said or did (both for privacy’s sake and to keep things brief), but I’ll explain my biggest reasons for kicking her.

First, she vented a lot, which typically I wouldn’t judge, but I really didn’t want a fandom server associated with so much negativity — and not only that, but the way she vented was very… I mean, we would be telling her things she did wrong in general channels, and then she would go to the vent channel and say things like “I’m sorry I’m so stupid and such a bad person I didn’t know what I was doing wrong.” and then we’d (well, everybody else — I don’t play these games with people) all have to console her. Not only that, but she’d vent about shit like — “I’m such a bad person because I’m cis. I’m sorry for being cis.” In a server full of trans people.

Second was her ableism towards autistic people, in a server also full of autistic people (This is honestly the biggest thing I had against her). Since most of us were autistic, we headcanoned most (if not all) of the characters in the series as autistic, usually with little basis in canon. One person specifically said “I think X character is autistic” and most people agreed, until she came along and said “No, they’re too normal.” We were all kind of like “???” until somebody said “Autistic people are normal” and she said “No, they’re all learning disabled” and some other stuff I don’t remember off the top of my head. (Obviously nothing wrong with having learning disabilities and many autistic people do have them etc, it’s just the way she went about saying what she said — and also disagreeing with a harmless headcanon because a character was too “normal” to be autistic). Again, most of us are autistic and were offended by what she said.

These were the two biggest contributors as to why I kicked her from my server — there were more (usually smaller) things she did that made people uncomfortable or pissed me off, but again, I’m not going to mention everything.

So, I silently kicked her, not wanting to cause too much drama, but also fed up with her behavior. I think I also softblocked her on tumblr, not wanting us to be mutuals or friends anymore but also not seeing a block as necessary (I didn’t mind if she saw my fandom posts in the tag, for example). However, she ended up following me back and sent me an ask asking why she was kicked from the server. I believe I told her “I don’t owe you an explanation, I just didn’t want you there anymore”. I didn’t want to say “you did this, this, and this” and just have her say “I didn’t do that/That wasn’t a big deal” and turn it into an entire argument, you know? I also just didn’t want to talk to her at all. So after answering, I softblocked her again and she sent me a long rant calling me a bitch, to which I simply hardblocked her.

I’m pretty sure I was justified in kicking her from my server, but I’m not sure if I’m justified in not telling her why — I understand being confused and demanding an answer but I also know she’d been told off multiple times — and I still don’t think she’s owed a response. Maybe if we were closer friends, I would have explained why. But I don’t know. Am I the asshole?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[fallingintoyourlilaceyes]

Our love is god (modern!Heathers JD type!Aemond Targaryen x Reader)

synopsis: High school is hell. Truly. However, the one person you think will finally make it better, only makes it so much more worse.

warnings: angst, making out, death, murder, faked suicide, sexual abuse, physical violence, gun violence, afab reader

word count: 6.4k

taglist: @hopelesswritergall, @urmomsgirlfriend1

(If you want to be tagged for a specific character/fandom/series or in general let me know in my asks, comments or DMs)

King´s Landing high school. Your own personal hell as you liked to call it in your journal. You really thought joining forces with the devils that ran it would help you get through it, but all it did was make things harder. You left your real friends and unpopularity behind for a seat at the same table as the Baratheon sisters, only to help them bully the rest of the school and focus on your looks and parties more than anything else. You dreaded seeing them every day. Floris wasn´t as bad you had to admit, she was nice. A cheerleader, but in the end she still participated in her sisters doings. Cassandra was a more devout follower. The year book committee and the boob job that mommy paid for made her think she was more than she actually was, but even she couldn´t reach the tyranny of their sister Maris. She truly was a mythic bitch. Drowning in your thoughts, one makes its reoccurring return. College will be paradise if you´re not dead by graduation.

From the side you could feel an elbow get rammed into your ribs painfully.

“Ow. What´s your damage, Maris?” You spit out the words while rubbing the sore spot on your side.

“Stop whining. You are going to go to the big frat party with me this weekend. You should be thankful.” Just hearing her tone made you want to punch her in the boob or something. Gods, you couldn´t even think straight.

“Yay, great.” You can barely hide the sarcasm in your faked excitement.

However Maris doesn´t get the chance to say anything about it as right in that moment a commotion breaks out in the back of the cafeteria. With your old friends you would have been able to just ignore it, but with the Baratheons? No chance. The four of you turn around to see Cregan Stark and Qyle Martell harassing a student you think you have never seen before, which is highly unlikely as literally everyone here had been to kindergarten, elementary school and middle school together. Despite not recognizing him, you feel an immediate yet inexplainable attraction towards him. The whole ethereal beauty that he had going on was really working for him. So much so, that when the bickering stops and a gasp rolls through the cafeteria as the stranger pulls out a gun, you aren´t even that deterred. In fact you think it´s kinda funny how the two jocks pee their pants at being shot with blanks. They deserve some push back to their constant bullying.

But even that little moment can´t lift your mood long enough to get you over the party. When Maris picks you up in her dad´s way too expensive car you already feel like sending her away again. On the other hand you might as well end your own social life then. No.

“And don´t forget the corn nuts!” Maris yells after you as you walk towards the convenience store on your way to that stupid frat party.

“Plain or bbq?” You yell back.

“Bbq!” You get your answer in the middle of the door.

Rolling your eyes so she doesn´t see it you make your way through the store grabbing the snacks and looking around until you almost run into someone.

“Oh, sorry I didn´t look where I was going.” You take a step back feeling your cheeks heat in embarrassment as you recognize the stranger from school.

“It´s okay… You know, I´m not the biggest fan of your friend either.” He says as he grabs some snacks himself.

“What?” His statement catches you off guard quite a bit.

“I watched you… Today during lunch and how you rolled your eyes at her.” He explains as if it is nothing.

“You´ve been watching me?” You ask surprised, but with a smile on your face. “Should I be flattered or scared?”

"A little bit of both maybe?" He leans against one of the shelves. Putting on a half smile himself. A very handsome one at that. For the first time you really study him. The way his silver hair flows past his shoulders. The intense look of his right eye and the scar above his left one. The sharpness of his cheekbones, nose and chin. Until your eyes stick to his lips. Those perfect, pink lips with the sharp cupids bow.

"I can do that..." You whisper more to yourself than the lean person in front of you.

That's when the penetrating sound of a car horn and Maris screaming your name pulls the two of you back to reality.

"Better run quick. Your friend is waiting." He teases as you make your way to the Cash register. Your name rolling of his tongue in the most promising manner. Promising what? That is what you wanted to find out.

“I should.” You sigh. “But before I go… Since you know my name, it´s kind of only fair to tell me yours, don´t you think?”

“Aemond. Aemond Targaryen.” He finally introduces himself and upon hearing his last name you remember him distantly. You had talked to his sister Helaena once or twice a few years ago.

“Well, it was nice meeting you Aemond Targaryen, but I have to go appease the will of a high school tyrant now…” You shoot him a wink and get back to the car as quickly as possible.

The party, much like you thought, is a total bust. The music is complete shit, the alcohol is cheap and Maris leaves you alone to do god knows what with some frat bro almost immediately. Leaving you alone to be harassed by his friend. It all together gives you a major headache and so you leave at the first chance. Walking home still is a better option than having to bear this any longer.

You arrive there late, but the fresh air helps the headache. To your further luck, your parents are already asleep so you can go to your room directly. Writing out all your frustrations in your journal.

While you do so there is a tap on the window. Jolting out of your seat, you see Aemond standing there.

“Greetings and salutations.” He says as you open up for him to come inside. An invitation he takes instantly. “So how was the party?”

“About as good as one would think…” You scoff, closing your journal as you turn towards him.

“Ah… I bet your presence was missed greatly.” He says, the words dripping with sarcasm and making you laugh. I was nice to really laugh for the first time in a while. The two of you talk some more and somehow end the night cuddled up naked under the blankets. Remnants of both of your juices sticking to your thighs as you talk about gods know what. You honestly can´t pay much attention. Yet even post nut clarity couldn´t give you the realization that he just found out where you lived and came in through your gods damn window. Probably because his kisses kept your mind far away enough from reality.

“Maris Baratheon is one bitch that deserves to die.” He sighs.

“Killing her won´t solve anything. I say we just grow up be adults and then die.” You reply in a quiet tone. Your faces so close to each other that there is barely even an inch between you. Perfect to pull him in once more. Locking your lips in a deep, passionate kiss.

The two of you fall asleep soon after. A tangle of limbs and your head tucked under his chin, on his chest. However when you open your eyes again you are alone. The only sign of Aemonds company the previous night being your own nakedness and a few marks he had left on you that would be easily covered up.

The real shock comes when you get back to school on monday. Meeting up with the Baratheon sisters as every morning, you are surprised to see only Cassandra and Floris. Who look tired. Well, Floris looks tired and quite sad. Cas looks as unbothered as ever, if not a bit happy.

“Where did you leave Maris?” You ask coming to a stop in front of them.

“Didn´t you hear? She killed herself two days ago…” Floris reveals with a quiet voice. Your heart sets out for a beat at the news.

“Yeah, where have you been all weekend?” Cas adds.

“I- I don´t know… I´m sorry for what happened with your sister. You put your sunglasses back on and leave them to find Aemond.

“Hey.” You great him with a small peck.

“What is going on? You look like someone just died.” He remarks, pulling you close to him and placing another peck to your cheek.

“My best friend just killed herself.” You murmur.

“Don´t you mean your worst enemy?” He replies with a small grin.

“Same difference.” Still bewildered by the happenings of this morning, you shake your head and then go to class with Aemond.

Only to learn then that you would all get a half day off. A half day seemed to be fairly less for a student just committing suicide in your opinion, especially one as influential as Maris, but then again she also enjoyed more fame than during her life. So at least she couldn´t complain. You felt a bit bad for entertaining that thought. Then again with how many lifes she had ruined...

Going to school after that was even worse for weeks. Everyone was romanticizing Maris´ reign of terror, Cassandra silently took over what her sister had started, or at least tried to and you? Well, you only ever got away from it all when you spent time away from it with Aemond, who seemed surprisingly chill, if not smug about the bully being out of the way. The two of you get closer quick during that time. He is the most understanding boyfriend you could have ever wished for. Even his few quirks are cute. Yet he keeps his darker sides safely tucked away from you. At least for now, he vows himself. Who would have known it could get even worse.

When you enter the school building the next day, everyone is staring at you, talking to their friends in hushed whispers. At first you assume it was the usual whispers, but when Cas comes up to you, you quickly get taught better.

“You little bitch. I never knew you were that kind of person.” She says with a wide complacent grin firm on her face.

“What are you even talking about, Cas? What the hell is going on here? What is everyone talking about?” You hiss. Gripping Aemond´s hand slightly, who seemed just as confused as you were. Though he was more successful in concealing his feelings.

“Shouldn´t you know what you did? “ your supposed friend feigns innocence. It really makes you want to slap the holier than thou look off her face.

“Just. Tell. Me.” You make sure to put emphasis on every single word.

“Qyle and Cregan are going around telling everyone you blew them.” She holds her hand in front of her mouth to hide her giggle.

Without another word, you stomp past her. Running around the next corner, where Aemond stops you.

“Hey. Hey! Angel, where are you going?” He questions. Holding you by the shoulders.

“To those stupid… fucking…” You let out an undefinable sound of frustration. “They may get away with harassing the all the girls of this entire school, but not me.”

 “You have to take a breath and calm down.” He says in a low voice as to not attract any more attention.

“Don’t tell me to calm down.” You seethe, but at least you stop marching through the mass of other students.

“Calm down.” He reiterates. “I already have a plan.”

Right in that moment however the bell rings signaling the start of first period. And it is pure horror. The whispers all around you echo in your head even when it is entirely silent. Teachers drone on and on about topics that you couldn´t get less of a shit about. Cassandra and Floris arent´t any help with any of it either of course. With how nice Floris tended to be it was easy to forget who they were sometimes. Time stretches endlessly until you reach home. Sitting down on your bed, you wait for the telltale sign of Aemond coming over. By now the knocking on the window doesn´t even startle you anymore. The opposite is the case. Whenever you hear it, your heart instinctively skips a beat. Just like it does now.  You open the window and watch Aemond hop inside. Greeting him with one, two, three little pecks to the lips you pull him to the bed with you by the lapels of his leather jacket. Barely separating from him as you do so, you grin against his lips at the way his large hands grab your hips to pull your body close to his.

“I missed you so much.” He hums against your mouth between kisses.

“We haven´t seen each other for two hours.” You giggle. Running a gentle hand over his chest as the fingernails of the other massage his neck.

“I know and it felt like an eternity.” Aemond all but growls against your neck. Biting it lightly, before sucking a mark into the supple flesh.

You let out a trembling whine at the tingling feeling his lips chase down your spine. The needy sound followed by an amused chuckle from him.

“So, your still out for revenge?” He growls against your neck.

“Yes.” You answer just a bit more breathless than before.

“Good.” Aemond pulls away from you and throws two guns beside you on the bed. Startled by them, you jump back. Looking at the blond, who returns it with a smug expression.

“Aem, I want to pay them back not murder them!” You shriek, settling down a good bit away from the weapons. He on the other hand is eerily calm.

“Do you take german?” He asks as he sits down and takes your hands.

“French.” You answer still on edge.

“These are `Ich lüge´ bullets. My grandpa stole a shitload of them in WW2, they´re like tranquilizers. Only they break the surface of the skin enough to cause a little blood.” Aemond explains as he dumps a handful of bullets between the guns.

“So… It looks like the person has been shot, but really they are just unconscious and bleeding?” You ask just to be sure. The sight of the weapons made you feel all kinds of bad.

He nods. “We shoot Cregan and Kyle, it looks like they shot each other and by the time they regain consciousness, they´ll be the laughing stock of the whole school.”

“And what is that for?” You point to the folded paper that lies between the bullets.

“That is the cherry on top. A fake suicide note. Painting the whole thing as them killing themselves, because they knew they would never be accepted for being a gay couple.” Aemond snickers and you have to admit that the plan in all it´s simplicity sounds pretty good.

Taking your phone you send a text to Cregan. Luring him and Qyle into the woods behind the school under the guise of wanting to have a threesome with the two of them. Knowing full well it would get them where you wanted. Throwing your phone to the bed with a nervous giggle, you feel Aemond crawl on top of you. The weight of his taller frame pushing you into the mattress as his lips find yours again.

When you enter the woods and Aemond kisses you one last time, before you hide your gun and he goes to hide in the trees, your whole body trembles with uncertainty.

“Hey, Dollface.” Cregan greets you.

The two guys come to a stand about five feet away from you. “So, how are we gonna start this?” Qyle adds to his friend. Wasting no time as always.

“I thought you two could start by undressing for me.” You flutter your lashes at them, voice like honey in their ears.

“Okay.” The two of them say in unison. Nodding before they all but tearing the clothes of their body, stripping down to their boxers. The three of you count to three and right as they want to rip off the last piece of fabric down too your plan sets in action. Aemond jumps out from behind a nearby tree, the pair of you whip out the guns and aim for the half naked and afraid boys. Aemond hits Qyle right in the chest and he drops to the ground right where he stood. You are less lucky, missing Cregan by only an inch. He turns to see his friend lie on the ground, in a growing puddle of his own blood and makes a run for it. Your heart starts pounding in your chest even harder than before, if that even is possible. Threatening to break out of your ribcage as you watch Aemond´s face contorts into a grimace of anger.

“Shit! You stay here, I´m getting him.” He barks, chasing after a screaming Cregan.

It´s silent where you remain alone. Making you wonder what is going on. In the same breath your eyes fall down to Qyle´s body. The blood still pools underneath his body, prompting your thoughts run off the rails with crazy theories.

It isn´t until Aemond chases Cregan back to you, where he finally shoots him as well. The burly body flopping to the ground like a sack of potatoes. With horror you see your worst theory come true. They are both dead. Aemond killed them. And you helped him. A scream leaves your lips and you throw the weapon in your hand away on instinct. Clasping your hands over your mouth as the shock seeps in.

“No. No, no, no, no.” You mumble more to yourself than anyone else really. You are frozen to the spot you are standing in and if it were up to you, you would fall to your knees then and there. But Aemond takes your hand and pulls you away from the crime scene.

You don´t come to until you are in his car, in front of your house. You feel empty, detached from reality. Your body functions on autopilot. Putting a cigarette into your mouth to even somehow try to cope with the stress of what you had just become witness to. However when you lift up the lighter, the flame licks at the skin of your palm instead. You let out an agonizing scream and tears immediately shoot into your eyes at the white, hot pain.

The funeral a week later is a rough one. Even rougher than Maris´. The way the Septon plays up the gay martyr part is unbelievable. Aemond´s presence by your side doesn´t give you any comfort any more either. You can barely look at him anymore. Over the course of the past days your mind had started to come back from what lead you there, but it also distanced itself from him. Only able to see that side of him that he had hidden so well. All you want to do is hide under your blanket for the rest of your life, instead you have to sit in that gods forsaken sept, feeling sorry for Floris and Sarah, Cregan´s half-sister and your ex best friend, who seem to be taking this the hardest. You knew that Floris and Cregan, despite him being a total goon, had been kind of on and off for a while. The two of them didn´t deserve this. Fuck, the bad conscience was eating away at you, making you nauseaus. Of course, Aemond is entirely calm. Not letting a single soul see behind the carefully strung up curtain. Even though you imagine to see the same small smug smirk in his face again that he had expressed while explaining his plan to you all those days back.

Repressing the urge to run out of the sept, you pick at the skin around your fingernails until they bleed.

Once the service is over, you get onto Aemond´s motorcycle and let him drive you home. No matter how hard it is to keep holding on to him and not dissociate the whole ride. Your mind makes up then and there, that this has to end. You have to end this.

That night when he comes over, you sit him down.

“We um… We need to talk.” You mumble. Still not meeting his eye. He had already noticed your inability to do so since that day, but until now he thought you would catch yourself again after an initial shock. A mistake he noted mentally to never do again.

“What do you want to talk about?” He feigns ignorance, though he full well has a perfect idea of what you want to talk about.

“I… We… I can´t do this anymore, Aemond.” You stammer out, your leg trembling under his hand that rests on your thigh.

“Cannot do what anymore, Angel?” His one seeing eye rests on you as intensely as ever.

“This. Us. I thought I could cope with what we have done, but I can´t. I can´t look at you like before anymore. The sight of their… bodies… still haunts me in my dreams.” You try to find the right words to express your feelings and still it feels like the severity of them doesn´t come out right.

“You can´t be serious about that.” He faltered. Despite having a feeling about what you were gonna say, he still feels floored by it. His heart hurting at your words.

“I am. I never wanted this. “ Your voice hardens as you get more confident about your decision.

“You wanted this too. You said you wanted revenge.” Aemond insists.

“Yes, I wanted revenge. I did not ask for this. Two people are dead!” You try to get through to him. To no avail.

“You didn´t seem to mind much when Maris died.” He blurts out. It´s entirely in the heat of the moment. And he regrets revealing it to you like that, but it is out nonetheless.

“What?” You shriek in response. “I thought Maris killed herse…”

The thought of the fakes suicide note for Cregan and Qyle enters your mind and you hide your face in your hands, fighting back the tears that sting in your eyes.

“Please just leave…” Your voice comes muffled from behind your hands. Opting to leave your face buried in them as you speak the defeated words.

“Angel, I am not just going to leave you. We can talk about this.” He takes your wrists in his hands and pulls them down to your lap.

“What is there to talk about? You killed three people!” You pulled your arms away from him, but his grip was too strong.

“Yes, but I did it for you.” He argues.

“How was any of that for me?” Your voice drips with disbelieve.

Aemond comes closer to you until he whispers against your lips. “They hurt you. I will never let anyone hurt you.”

Then he presses his lips to yours roughly. His tongue pushes into your mouth forcefully, stunning you into an overpowering inability to act, as he pushes you against the headboard. The way his lips move against yours is aggressive, making you cry out in search for help or to get him to stop. Just something, anything to make him stop. It takes several more moments for your brain to return to the situation, but once it does you start struggling with all your might. Biting his lip and kicking him away from you, finally sets you free from his assault.

“I want you to go. Now.” You say quietly but with as much certainty as you can put into your voice. He turns around and leaves. Surprisingly without another word. Yet your body stays on edge until long after he is gone.

Your arms wrapped tightly around your middle, you shiver from your nerves processing everything that had been revealed and happened. Unable to really cope with it yet. Despite not having really liked them your friends where dead and only the gods knew what Aemond would do next.

That night you get haunted by him in your dreams.

You find yourself in the Baratheon´s dark kitchen. Aemond in front of you, looking for a knife. For some reason you know Cassandra is going to be his next victim. Yet, no matter how hard you try to speak and keep him from going through with his fucked up plan, you can´t. Not a single sound comes from your lungs. With panic you watch as he grabs a dirty knife from the dishwasher and goes into Cas´ room. In the complete dark you can´t see exactly what he does, you can only see the world go dark around you seconds later, feeling like you are falling into a bottomless pit, you wake up with a gasp. Sweat soaking your pillow and your chest heaving with short heavy bursts of breath while your heart threatens to break out if it. You know you have to stop him, before what the dream is foreboding becomes reality. He is incalculable, dangerous and whatever he does end up doing next, can´t happen under any circumstances. You spend the whole day trying to make out a plan, not paying attention to any of your teachers or Floris and Cassandra. Not a single idea your brain comes up with is good enough to work. Luckily it also makes you ignore the weird looks your friends are giving you over your unresponsiveness.

Saying goodbye to them when they drop you of in the afternoon, you plan to head to your room immediately. A plan that is thwarted by your parents, who await you in the living room, worried expressions on both of their faces.

“Darling! We need to talk to you for a moment.” Your mother speaks up first. Seemingly relieved to see you alive and well.

“Sure, what´s going on?” Your mind is still half busy with Aemond when you put down your bag in front of you.

“Aemond just dropped by. Saying all these things about how we should look out for you, that he was worried for you…” Your mom´s voice is shaky as she recalls on the memories of what had happened so shortly before you arrived.

“Did he say something else?” You say passively. Inside you are boiling already. Who does he think he is?

“He said you confessed some rather alarming urges to him. That you shouldn´t be left alone with sharp objects or… or that kind of stuff.” Your father holds your mother a little tighter to calm her down again. You truly feel sorry for them. How could they know that what they have been told was as wrong as it possibly could have been.

“I´m sorry… But I´m not… That´s not true. You know I´d talk to you if there was anything going on.” You assure them.

You try to spend more time with them, but once your parents start to believe you, you make your way back to your room. Your mind is finally made up on what to do. If talking to him wouldn´t help to get him to stop killing, maybe you could shock him into it. Hopefully. He did used say, that the extreme always makes an impression. Taking your bedsheets you tie them around your body in a way that allows you to make it look like you had hung yourself. For once it would come in handy that he had never stopped texting you. Hurrying to get done before you hear that accursed knock. Tipping over the chair you use in your preparations mere seconds before he lets himself in. No matter how much you want to move or even at least open your eyes, you force yourself to stay calm. No matter how unfamiliar the air under your forcefully relaxed feet feels and your lungs hurt from the flat breaths you can allow yourself at most to take. Blissfully unaware to the gun hidden in the back of his pants, with which he planned gods know what. While he doesn´t move or breath or speak for a short moment. Frozen in a shock not deep enough to hold him for long.

It seems you have underestimated his crazy. Mentally you curse yourself out aggressively so that you almost miss him beginning to speak to you.

I can´t believe you did it.” He says in a breathy tone and you can hear his hands slap against his thighs as if he had raised them in defeat beforehand. “I loved you. Sure I was coming in here ready to kill you, but… I at least would´ve wanted to tell you about this petition the whole school signed first. Of course they don´t know what they really signed up for, but that won´t be any of their concern anymore soon. Oh Angel, it´s a shame you don´t get to see this play out anymore. I have the perfect plan. During pep rally on Friday the whole school is gonna come down and everyone in there with it. Listen to this. We, the students of King´s Landing high, will die. Our bodies will be the ultimate protest against you. A society that churns out slaves and blanks. Fuck you all.”

He was even further gone than you would´ve thought or hoped. “It´s not very subtle, but a school blowing up, that´s big. The kind of big that infects a generation. The only place Baratheons and Snows can get along is in heaven. We could´ve united them together, you and I… you left me no choice. So I will do it alone if I must.”

By now he is breathless from the passion that is no doubt not only in his voice but also his heart. The clicking of a lighter registers over the ringing of sheer panic in your ears, followed by the faint footsteps and mumbling of your mother. Aemond is quick to sneak back out the window and you are just about to open your eyes back up and take a deep breath, when the door opens behind you and your poor mothers scream can be heard throughout the entire house.

Hurrying, you untie the bedsheets with shaky hands, hurting your knees in the process of falling to the ground, but you don´t care. All you care about is getting to your mom. Hugging her weak, sobbing form to your body as tightly as you can. Soothing her as best as possible, but the damage has been done you guess and you really can´t blame her. If you would have been in her place you wouldn´t have reacted or felt any other way.

“It´s okay, mom. I´m okay, I´m still here. It wasn´t real.” It´s safe to say, that after all of that you don´t sleep well. Or at all really. How could you after Aemond has told you what would happen next. You want to stop him, feel like you have to stop him, even more so now that your plan has failed so miserably. If anything you´re under the impression of having worsened the state his soul is in.

For two whole days you have to watch school go by without anything out of the ordinary happening. Which just makes the bad feelings in your gut swirl even more intensely. Yet, at the same time, there is a strange calm inside your mind. There certainly, realistically, is very little you can do to keep Aemond from doing what he wants to do. But at least if, or rather when, you go down on Friday, you don´t go down by being by Aemond´s side, watching the smoke pour out the doors. Making s´mores over the burning remains of your dead school mates. This was sick. A whole parade of red flags. A perverted power fantasy, that you can´t believe you didn´t notice before. In those days you have more people than you are willing to count come after you, questioning how you are still alive. How did the stupid rumors always spread the fastest and furthest?

The poor guidance counselor is who almost suffers from you losing your nerves over it, on the day of. You are quick to apologize as well though.

“I am so sorry, I´d be glad to talk about this another day, now I really have something more important to do.” You let the man behind, that still opens and closes his mouth like a fish on land.

Marching through the masses of students on their way to the gym. Scared shitless, but still determined to put an end to this if you can. It was high time you pulled your shit together anyway. Finding Aemond in the boiler room, he is already busy setting up multiple explosives.

“Hey!” You pull his attention away from the dynamite.

“Greetings and salutations. Come to change your mind?” He inquired.

“No. Never! Gods, how delusional are you to think that anyone would join you in this madness! You are no better than your mother.” You take another step closer to him. The venom in your tone gets him to stay silent for once. However he still doesn´t stop fiddling with the bombs.

“Put that down, slowly and then put your hands behind your head.” You put your hand in the pocket of your cardigan to grab your fathers hunting knife in case you´d need it. Pulling it out you earn a genuinely amused chuckle, then everything goes too fast for you to react properly. Aemond kicks the weapon out of your hand, letting it slide out of your reach, and knocks you out with a few , for him very simple, movements. Sinking to the ground you barely stay conscious long enough to see him walk further into the basement of the building. Fuck. The already quiet sounds of the pep rally become even more quiet over the dull thudding in your head and then darkness claims you.

You don´t know how long you have been out once your eyes open again. Thankful for the low light of the rooms you are in, you tumble towards the direction you saw Aemond leave in. Holding on tightly to the wall or anything you can find to keep the dizziness from knocking you off your feet again. Too busy to hear your scuffling steps, you can grab the gun he had brought and laid down beside himself.

“I said put it down… and hands behind your head…” The sentence is broken up by your heavy breathing.

One of his hands shoots to the side to check for the missing gun. Raising them over his head almost immediately and turning around to you slowly.

“Angel, come on. You know you can´t shoot me so why don´t you just put down the gun and join me? I´m giving you one last chance.” His tone is still smug, but you can hear a hint of fear shine through the overconfidence.

Scoffing, you shake your head at his inability to even now be real with his feelings. “Just turn off the bombs.”

Behind his eye you can see his brain mulling over every possible outcome to this situation. Surprising you, by complying to with you have just said. Putting his hands behind his head, the feeling of the imminent danger of the situation subsides from your system and you finally hear the voices from upstairs again. Having had enough of talking you wave for him to go outside with the gun, which you hold safely in both hands. Due to everyone being still in the gym and none the wiser as to what was going on not too far away from them. In front of you Aemond pushes the big front doors open for both of you to step outside.

Standing still, he turns to you again. Eye half closed and so close to you that if either of you were to move, your lips would most definitely touch.

“You know what you need to do now.” He murmurs. The way his breath fans over your face so warm and for a moment you feel set back to the beginning of your relationship. When everything was still okay or at least as okay as it could be.

“I don´t want to have to do it.” You whisper back.

“There is no other way to end this anymore now. I am far too damaged, but you are not beyond repair. Please… Stand back now. You know it had to end this way. No matter how much you wished it didn´t.” Aemond takes a step back himself and stretches his arms out to the side.

You take a deep breath and as you take a step away from him remind yourself of everything he had done and wanted to do. Looking up at him you ask him in a voice void of emotion.

“Any last words?”

“I worship you. So much. I´ll trade my life for yours.”

With a heart heavier than it should be, you point the gun back at the man who you had thought was the only one to ever truly understand you. Then, before your brain can have the chance to think twice about it your actions, you pull the trigger.

The shot rings in your ears long after it is over. The sight of Aemond falling to the ground like a sack of potatoes, filling you with a great void of nothingness. Still you stay there for a few more minutes. Lighting yourself a cigarette and waiting for that atrocious ringing to stop. A part of you still hopes to wake up and have all of this be a nightmare, but you never wake up and the cigarette is entirely done. So you throw the damned thing away, drop the gun on Aemond´s lifeless body and get back inside where everyone is flooding the hallways.

Ignoring Cassandra´s comments and protest, you march past her, taking Floris by the hand and walk over to Sarah who is sitting alone on the stairs.

“Ladies, there is a new sheriff in town. And the way I see it, all three of us are still free tonight. So, I propose we buy snacks and watch movies at my place all night.” You say with a conciliatory smile.

The two girls look happy about the suggestion. About as happy as they can look under the given circumstances and together the three of you decide to cut the school day a bit shorter and go now.

#aemond #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond x you #aemond targaryen x you #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd fic #house of the dragon fic #hotd x reader #hotd x you #modern aemond #hotd modern au #modern hotd #modern house of the dragon au

[bella-rose29]

Little Kipps

Lockwood had no idea just how lovely somebody related to Quill Kipps could be.

Might make this a mini series (translation: I am definitely making this a mini series)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: swearing (i think that's it)

Tag list: @augustisintheair, @el-de-phi, @karensirkobabes, @tournesol77, @wordsarelife

Please let me know here if you'd like to be added to my Lockwood tag list <3

Quill Kipps was the most insufferable, annoying, arrogant, conceited man Anthony Lockwood had ever had the misfortune to meet.

So how on earth did he have such a lovely sister?

Y/n Kipps was everything that her older brother was not; kind, funny, caring, beautiful (not that Lockwood spent much time considering how attractive Kipps was, it was Y/n he couldn't tear his eyes away from given she was practically a goddess). In Lockwood's eyes, she was perfect, and in an ideal world he'd try and ask her on a date.

This wasn't an ideal world, however.

The first time that he'd met Y/n was after a case gone only slightly wrong, but involved Kipps' team showing up. Lockwood, George and Lucy had everything under control, of course, but he couldn't deny how grateful he was for the extra supplies of flares when the Fittes team turned up. Walking over to the pavement after the sources were contained, he sat down rather unceremoniously, then groaned when he saw Kipps headed his way, a smirk on that stupid face.

"Alright, Tony? I think it's time you considered giving up and leaving the jobs to the real agents, yeah?"

"Oi! Don't be rude, Quill. He did actually save your sorry ass out there! Biscuit?" Both boys startled at the new voice, and when Lockwood saw the girl that had approached them, packet of digestives in hand, he lost his breath.

"He did not," Kipps grumbled, taking a biscuit and munching on it like an angry rabbit. She turned and offered the packet out to Lockwood, who took one with a grateful smile.

"I did, actually. Remember when I told you to duck? You looked around for a quacking bird instead, so I had to shove you to the ground." Now it was Lockwood's turn to smirk, and the delighted laughter that came from the girl made his heart lift.

"Shut up, you pointed and I thought 'That's just the kind of stupid thing that Tony would do, see a duck and get distracted on a job that's clearly out of his depth'."

"Quill?"

"Yeah?"

"Please stop talking."

Lockwood watched the two of them talk, and wondered how they knew each other. She was clearly close to Kipps, but why he had no idea. Surely nobody in their right mind would willingly spend time with the guy?

"Why are you even here? You should be home," Kipps said, worry creeping into his voice. Lockwood's brow furrowed, and he wondered if they were maybe dating.

"Yeah, well mum's being a bitch again, and I have a rapier, so it's not like I'd have died, is it?"

"She's being a bitch again? I thought you said she'd stopped?"

"Sorry to interrupt, but maybe have this conversation where other people can't hear you? It just feels like it's about to get deep and as much as I would love to spend more time in your company," he sent a wink in the girl's direction, delighted when she blushed lightly, "I don't think you really want a stranger listening in," Lockwood said, charming smile working its way onto his face as he stood, brushing off the back of his trousers.

"Oh, yeah, of course! Sorry. Another biscuit for the road?" She offered the packet up, and who was he to say no to her? Taking a second biscuit, Kipps scoffed.

"Yeah, okay. This," he pointed a finger at Lockwood and the girl, "is never happening again."

"What? Have you finally lost your mind Kipps?"

"Nope. Good night." And he turned and walked off, dragging the girl with him. Lockwood stood staring dumbly at their backs.

"You okay, Lockwood?" Lucy's voice surprised him, and he nearly dropped the biscuit.

"Who's that girl with Kipps?"

"Why, got a crush?" she teased, then seeing his face her jaw went slack, eyes lighting up with glee. "Oh my god you do, don't you! GEORGE! GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE!" Lockwood groaned, knowing that no matter what he said now, his colleagues would refuse to believe anything else.

"What? Why does Lockwood look like that? And how come he has a biscuit and I don't?"

"He's got a crush," Lucy said, and then George's eyes lit up.

"It's not a crush, I'm just curious why she's friends with Kipps," he explained, taking a bite of the biscuit.

"Oh, that's his sister," George piped up. "She's quite often in the Archives, does research on the beginning of the Problem like me. Pretty sure she's a freelance agent, our age. She mentioned she doesn't like the big institutions, but she has a rapier, so I'm just guessing."

"His sister?" Lockwood wilted a little. Kipps would definitely never let Lockwood anywhere near her now.

"Yeah. Her name's Y/n. And Kipps is super protective of her, so good luck asking her out or even looking in her direction while he's nearby."

George and Lucy walked off, taking the kit bags with them and loading them into the back of a night cab. Lockwood trailed after, still thinking about her.

"Y/n," he mumbled, and he decided he liked the way her name sounded.

~~~

The next time he saw her, he was in Arif's corner shop topping up on groceries. He'd just entered the bread aisle when the bell on the door dinged, and she walked in. She saw him, and a smile formed on her face as she waved.

"Hi! Lockwood, right? You look a lot better in daylight, I've gotta say," she said, coming over to where he stood. "Wait, not like that, I just meant that last time I saw you you'd just finished a job, not that you didn't look good, you're quite cute, oh my god I'm gonna stop talking now." She'd gone bright red as she rambled, and Lockwood was sure that he was the same.

"You're quite cute too," he replied, and where had that come from?! "Anthony Lockwood, yeah. I don't think I caught your name, though?" He knew exactly what her name was, but he didn't want to come across as a creep.

"Y/n, Quill's my brother. Oh, don't get that bread, that won't be any good."

He looked at the loaf he was holding and frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Uh, look at the use by date? It's for tomorrow?"

"Oh. Well there's three of us and none of us have had breakfast yet, and we can all eat for England, so I'm sure it'll be fine." She laughed, and he couldn't stop the smile coming onto his face. "You know George Karim, right?"

"Yeah! Do you know him too?"

"He's at my agency, has been for a while now."

"He did mention that, actually. Lockwood and co, right? Cool! Yeah, we quite often end up in the Archives together. Oh, I had something for him as well, but I left it at home," she slapped her hand on her forehead. "I'll bring it round later if that's okay? He said it was important for a case you're going on soon but he didn't have the time to research everything, so I said I'd help out."

"Yeah, anytime today," he smiled. "The next case we have is tomorrow night, so I'm going to assume it's that one." She nodded, then turned to leave.

"I'll see you later then," she waved, going off into a different aisle, leaving Lockwood to stare after her longingly.

~~~

That afternoon, Lockwood was reclining in his usual armchair in the living room, watching Lucy and George play cards with an amused look on his face.

"Stop winning! This is so unfair!" George was not happy, it was safe to say.

The doorbell sounded, loud and obnoxious, and Lockwood leapt up to answer it, reassuring the others that he would be just fine on his own, and George should keep playing. Lucy gave him a knowing smirk, which he chose to ignore, and when he opened the front door to see Y/n, he smiled brightly.

"Oh, hi! Is your doorbell meant to be that loud?"

"Hmm? Oh, yes. Just in case George is home alone and asleep. He's completely unresponsive when he is." She laughed, and Lockwood felt a heat crawl up the back of his neck. "Did you want to come in? I just put the kettle on."

"Tea would be amazing, thanks. And actually I wanted to talk to George about something I found this morning after I saw you," she said, coming inside and shrugging off her jacket.

"He's just-"

"OH COME ON! YOU'RE CHEATING!"

Lockwood was cut off by George himself, shouting at a laughing Lucy in the other room.

"He's in there," he gestured towards the door, then took her coat, hanging it on the stand. "I suggest you leave him a while though. Kitchen's this way if you wanted tea? I'm not sure how you take it."

"Oh, right!" She was so chipper it was infectious, and she was so different to her brother and his usual grumpy face that Lockwood had no idea how the two of them were related. She poured her tea, chatting the whole time about the papers she'd brought over, and Lockwood severely hoped that George would listen to her later or read the notes because he had been half paying attention and half thinking about how beautiful she was.

"Lockwood?"

"Hmm?" Shit.

"I asked how long you'd been here? It's a beautiful building."

"My whole life. It was my parents' house." He swallowed, fighting back the emotion that inevitably came with thinking about his family.

"Did they move out?" She seemed so genuinely confused and was so lovely the rest of the time he was surprised that he felt able to talk about it with her.

He shook his head. "My parents died when I was 6. My older sister died three years later."

"Oh. Oh. Lockwood, I'm sorry if-"

"It's alright, really. You didn't know, love." He offered up a smile, mind going blank after his use of the pet name. Where the fuck had that come from?

Her resultant blush was worth it, though, and Lockwood had just opened his mouth to say something when Lucy burst in.

"I won!" She declared, doing a victory dance. "I won, I won, I won! Oh, hi!" She waved, seeing Y/n leaning against the counter, cup of tea in hand. "Y/n, right? Kipps' sister?"

"Ugh, yeah. That's me," and Lucy and Lockwood shared a look at the girl's tone.

"Why do you sound put off by that? I mean, it makes sense, 'cause your brother is a monumental tw-"

"Lucy," Lockwood hissed, warning glance sent her way.

"A monumental twat? Yep, I know. But I'm always 'Kipps' sister', or 'Little Quill', which is infuriating, because I'm a better agent than him, and far better looking!"

"I agree on both fronts," Lockwood said, winking at Y/n. Where was all this bravery coming from? Normally he was hopeless around girls he genuinely liked.

"Y/n! You're here!"

George had entered the kitchen now, taking his mug from the counter and collapsing into a chair.

"Hi Georgie," she waved, laughing as he almost fell off the seat. "I've got those papers for you, I was just telling Lockwood about them."

"Yeah, you might wanna repeat all of it to all three of us," George said with a smirk.

"Oh, why?"

"Lockwood can't concentrate around girls he has a crush on," Lucy chipped in, hiding her smile behind her tea.

Lockwood himself stood dumbly, staring at his colleagues as his face went bright red.

"Uh... what?" Shit. Now Y/n thought he was weird, and he'd never have a chance with her.

"George, wanna play me at cards again?"

"Ugh, but you always win! It's not fair!"

"George!" Lucy said through gritted teeth, and hauled him out of the room. Lockwood heard his cry of pain as Lucy jabbed her elbow into his ribs.

"Sorry, I don't know why she said that, it's-"

"So you don't like me?" At her frown, he rushed to rectify it.

"No! I mean, yes! Wait, I do like you," he sighed, and dragged a hand over his face. "I do like you, and I'd like to take you on a date at some point if you'd let me."

When she didn't say anything, instead just standing and watching him over the rim of her mug, Lockwood tensed, already preparing to take it back.

"You're ready to deal with the fallout from my brother, right? Because when he finds out that we've gone on a date he's gonna lose his shit."

Nodding so fast he thought his head might fly off, Lockwood let a smile come onto his face. "Absolutely. So you'll go on a date with me?"

"Yes, I will go on a date with you, Lockwood. Here's my number," she picked up a pen and wrote it on the thinking cloth, "call me when you're free. If you get answer phone I'm probably in a meeting or on a case, but most of the rest of the time I'm available. Thanks for the tea!" She went to wash up her mug, but Lockwood stopped her, flushing when their fingers brushed.

"I'll do that, don't worry about it."

"Oh, alright then. See you, Lockwood." And before she left, she pressed a kiss to his cheek.

"See you," he replied, still in a daze.

Kipps was definitely gonna kill him.

Part 2

#anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood #lockwood & co #lockwood netflix #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood x you

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box— Jack’s Birthday Edition

SERIES MASTERLIST

this is so short i’m sorry

yourusername

liked by jackhughes, lhughes_06, and 8,643 others

yourusername happy our birthday to my soulmate, my ex husband, and most importantly— my other half! we’ve been stuck together like glue since the first day of kindergarten and i don’t know who i would be without you. growing up with you is obviously the best thing to ever happen to you, because you turned out to be a pretty sick ass human being (you’re welcome)!

i remember back in kindergarten when we first found out that we have the same birthday and were so excited because we were so close. we decided that it means we had to be best friends forever! sorry that i later upgraded my best friend to the better model (i’m not sorry)!

in all seriousness, howdy rowdy, i’m so thankful to have you in my life. you made our move to michigan less scary than i thought it would be, and i wouldn’t have survived if not for you. you’ve always been so special to me. i’m so proud of you! i’m so proud of what you did this season, and i’m proud to call you my brother.

part of jacky’s birthday present was some wonderful news, and he has kindly demanded that i share it with everyone! when i am changing my name after mine and trevy’s wedding, i will also be changing my middle name to rowden. it was mom’s idea! she said she loved the idea of twins having the same middle name, and since we do have the same birthday, and i’ve been inducted to the family, i asked her if i could change my middle name. to my delight, she said yes! (he cried when i told him, which made me cry, which made mom cry, which made quinn and luke cry, so the family was really a mess tonight!)

p.s happy birthday to my favorite rookie, wyatt johnson! please score on quinn next season <3

i love you with at least 90% of the atoms in my body❤️ happy birthday!

tagged jackhughes

view all 186 comments

jackhughes i love you, too soulmate❤️ your post won’t be as sentimental! (we didn’t cry!)

yourusername bitch <3

jackhughes yes <3

trevorzegras (yes they did)

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras (nobody asked)

_quinnhughes you choose some amazing pics, sissy

yourusername you should listen to the advice on the last one!

_quinnhughes jack is not a baddie

yourusername it’s our birthday! we’re baddies, you jurassic bitch

_quinnhughes best friend contract!

yourusername birthday clause!

jackhughes @_quinnhughes ✨suck it✨

user52 THE PHOTO OF Y/N, JACK, AND QUINN AS KIDS SJSKSJAK I’M CRYIN

njdevils we thank you for these jack photos🫡

yourusername anything for my fans <3

user28 SHE’S CHANGING HER MIDDLE NAME😭

_alexturcotte hey um… y/n, our love, WHY WAS I CUT OUT OF THE SEVENTH PHOTO

yourusername you pissed me off last week

_alexturcotte I APOLOGIZED! AND THIS ISN’T LAST WEEK!

yourusername calm down, you big baby

jackhughes fight! fight! fight! fight!

colecaufield @_alexturcotte ✨suck it✨

user33 happy birthday!!!

user18 i always forget sissy is a stars fan

trevorzegras must be nice

jackhughes she doesn’t let us forget

_quinnhughes she doesn’t let me specifically forget

yourusername @/trevorzegras @/jackhughes @_quinnhughes cry. babies.

user09 i cry every time y/n reveals more childhood stories

lhughes_06 i’m offended i wasn’t in the childhood pictures

yourusername in my defense… you were infant so we weren’t cool like that yet

_quinnhughes yeah, moosey, gosh

jackhughes somebody’s self obsessive

lhughes_06 i hate all of you

yourusername those teenage hormones of yours are wildin

lhughes_06 @/yourusername i hate you most

jackhughes @/lhughes_06 don’t talk to your mother that way! it’s mother’s day!

user54 i want what y/n and jack have omg! happy birthday!

john.marino97 what? no photo creds on the first pic? (ps happy birthday hughesy!)

yourusername psa to everyone: johnny m wouldn’t leave jack and i alone one night at the hotel and he stalked us and took the first picture! but i love it, so no harm 0.5 foul!

john.marino97 0.5 foul?

jackhughes @/john.marino97 congrats, man! you got off easy!

john.marino97 thank you?

trevorzegras @/john.marino97 now you’re catching on!

#penalty box series #penalty box series: bonus editions #jack hughes #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes x reader #trevor zegras #trevor zegras x reader #quinn hughes #luke hughes #jack hughes au #cole caufield #alex turcotte #john marino #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #jack hughes insta edit

[kiwisbell]

The Hitman's Guide to Getting the Girl: Chapter 2 [dave york x f!reader]

It's just another job, until Dave York decides to kidnap an enemy’s wiseass daughter. It’s just another job, until he falls in love.

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5 | chapter 6 | chapter 7 | chapter 8

series masterlist

status: complete

chapter 2 summary: Anthologies of getting to know you.

pairing: dave york x f!reader

rating: 18+ (mdni)

tags and warnings for entire fic: kidnapping, murder, violence, the world being horrible to women, reader having a very terrible sense of self-preservation, unprotected piv, oral sex (m and f receiving), dave york finding his second calling as a pussy-eating god, pining, possessive sex, jealousy, daddy issues, (stockholm syndrome?), dirty talk, actually filthy talk, hitmen and politicians, revenge, scary man with a soft spot for his woman, philosophical foreplay, tramp stamp worship (you'll see), a little sprinkle of breeding kink if you look hard enough, obsessive behaviour, anal fingering, anal sex, implied age gap, light dom/sub vibes, light bondage

tags and warnings for this chapter: violence against reader, pretentious literary references and the sexual tension that ensues from them, more self-reflection, self-hatred, angst, daddy issues, light touching (!!!), mutual enabling of bad habits, protective dave york

word count: ~ 4k

i'm a little obsessed with the fact that everyone writing abt dave york agrees unanimously that his bedroom is devoid of colour and décor; community is a beautiful thing. anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for all of your support thus far! <3

chapter 2: allow the ground to find its brutal way to me

FEBRUARY

“You son of a bitch.”

“Yeah, that's me, Mark.” Dave twirls the pen between his fingers, the Moon orbits the Earth for the umpeenth time, and it's dawn. He hasn't slept a wink all night. “I may be an asshole, but you should remember that you’re liable for my behaviour.”

“Do not turn this around on me, York. I didn't kidnap my daughter. You did.”

“And it took a week and a half for you to notice. Is that a new record or do you usually go longer?”

“I’m a busy man, Dave. I know you know how that feels.” Mark’s voice muffles slightly, like he's shuffling around, and then clears. “She's a smart girl.”

Dave’s hand curls instinctively around the pen. “She is a smart woman. I thought you'd want someone like that on your side, not under your shoe.”

He heaves a sigh. “I’m sorry. Are we discussing business, or my daughter?”

“They go hand-in-hand. At least, they did, until I met your daughter.” Dave’s gaze settles on the worn book on the corner of his desk: your latest recommendation. “You need to pay the money you owe me, Mark.”

“Or what, York?” Mark scoffs. “You gonna kill her? You haven't yet. For all I know, you've set her up in a lavish apartment with all the amenities and haven't laid a finger on her.”

Dave’s jaw tightens. “You need to pay the money you owe me, or I take it with interest from the account your daughter gave me access to last night.”

A delectable silence lingers on the line. Dave wants to swim in it.

“She wouldn't do that.”

“Maybe you don't know your daughter very well, Mark.”

Dave York’s home is modern, clean, and practical—except for one small detail. In his office, the bookshelf acts as a door to the discrete room behind it: a home library, filled to the brim with all the texts he's coveted since getting discharged. You’re curled up in the plush chair in the corner, dozing with Dracula on your chest, when a thud jerks you awake. 

“You drool when you sleep,” says Ari, lifting the novel with a frown. “This looks boring as shit.”

“Way to wake a girl up.” You rub your eyes and quickly readjust your clothes. You must have fallen asleep halfway through the book. “What's going on?”

“Boss is done on the phone.”

“With my father?”

Ari snorts. “You think he tells me that shit? He told me to come get you.”

You huff, leading the way back into Dave’s office with Ari trailing loosely behind. You hear muffled talking from the next room, but he’s known to have conversations with himself when he needs to think things through. You put your ear to the door and frown when you hear his voice, clearly speaking to another person in a low growl. 

“You don't get to make threats. Not against me.”

Your head whips around and your gaze finds Ari, standing a respectful distance away (another of Dave’s many rules). “You told me he was done.”

Ari shrugs. “Thought you might wanna hear it. It’s all about you, anyway.”

You give him a grateful nod and return to your eavesdropping. “You fucked me over, Mark,” says Dave, “so I think I’ll take whatever I want from you.”

You roll your eyes. “So dramatic.”

Another prolonged silence, presumably occupied by your father's angry words. “No, I suppose I don’t,” replies Dave, “but I think I like having her here.”

Your mouth splits into a smile. “Hey, Ari. He says he likes me.”

“Can’t imagine why.”

“If you want her back, Mark,” says Dave, “you'll just have to start giving a fuck.”

The distinctive thud of Dave’s phone on his desk indicates that you're free to enter the office. Ari follows, electing to speak first. “Boss—”

Unluckily for him, Dave’s in a sour mood, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes squeezed shut. “Out,” he snaps. 

You and Ari share a look, and he departs without another word. Meanwhile, you take a seat across from Dave at his desk and rest your chin in your palm. 

“The world should be grateful that you don't have wax wings, Mr. York.”

You don't miss the way his eyes flicker to the hem of your skirt as you cross one leg over the other. Dave sits, too, his fingers tracing the spine of the book you lent him. “You can rest easy knowing I don't get a lot of sun,” he says. 

“You know that's not the point, and you know I didn't give you access to his account purely out of spite.”

“No, but it's more fun if he thinks you did.” Dave smirks, and you match it. “You sleep well?”

“I may have dreamt about vampires, but sure.” You gesture to the hidden door. “Fell asleep in there.”

“I see that,” says Dave. He runs two fingers over his bottom lip: a habit. “I can set up a bed in there if you want.”

“Is that a serious offer?”

“I’m always serious.”

“Are you also serious when you tell me you want to go out for breakfast?” You bat your lashes at him, not that you need to. 

He hides his smile behind his fingers. “Yeah, we’ll go out.”

“You aren't going to handcuff me to you, right?”

“What—you wouldn’t like that?” 

You lift your hand and display your wrist to him, palm facing skyward. “You haven't hurt me yet.”

Dave’s mouth feels dry. His heart is clawing for a way out of his ribcage. His hand curls around the pen in his grasp. You're wearing a skirt made of silk and an elegant top and you look like such a princess that not a single person would question it if there was a tiara atop your head. You belong in the spotlight. He’s the shadow in the corners, hooded and donning black, illuminated only by the occasional flicker of candlelight. Watching. Waiting for something he can never have. 

Dave doesn't like it when something he wants is out of his grasp. But you’re living in his home and trusting him not to harm you. You're safe with him, and he refuses to break the small woven wires of trust that tie your heart to his. 

His dreams will avail him for now. 

Dave takes your hand and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a single soft kiss to the heel of your palm. “If you decide to escape,” he says quietly, his thumb brushing over the spot where he kissed your soft skin, “just promise me something.”

Your eyes are petal-soft, your hand lowering to the desk as he lets go. Your fingers gently prod the edge of the paperweight. “What, Dave?”

“Don't be a shadow,” he says. “You aren't a shadow.”

Your eyes search for something inside him that Dave does not know how to give you. “Have you ever thought about putting your skills to good use?”

He blinks. “I am putting them to good use. The chair you're sitting on cost seven hundred bucks.”

You pin him with a look of the variety that would get you beaten if you were anyone but yourself. “You tell me not to live the rest of my life like a shadow, but your job necessitates sticking to the darkness and following someone else’s rules.”

“This isn’t about me,” he says grumpily, sitting back in his chair. 

“Is that why you founded your company? For a degree of control in a volatile business?” 

Dave stares at you for a long while before he elects to speak. He does it a lot. There are things about you that he's always discovering anew. Planes and lines and shapes that may have always been there and may be new, but are always changing to him nonetheless. With every piece he takes, he constructs a sort of shape, and he's fond of the way you take the form of artwork in his eye. 

To everyone, you're someone different. You read people and adjust your own behaviour accordingly. You are whip-smart and too quick for anyone’s good. You are a chameleon. And you have infested his body. His mind. A space inside his chest that he's never known anything to inhabit. It's cold and arid and yet there you are, curled up with a book in your hands, comfortable. Smiling. 

“You’re doing that thing again,” he says. 

“Forcible pondering?” you guess. 

“Yeah.”

You shrug your shoulders and Dave watches your collarbones flex, licking his lower lip. “You're still avoiding my question.”

“That's because if I answer one more of your questions, you’ll be able to write my biography. I have to keep some things secret.”

You grin like you already know how to slot the gears in place. “Do you want to keep things secret, Dave?”

He twirls the pen some more between his fingers. “Would it matter?”

You pluck the pen out of his hand, uncap it, and write something down on a Post-it note. “Here’s your answer,” you say, placing it upside-down in his palm. “Do me a favour and don't look at it until I’m out of the room.

“Oh—” You stop yourself as you prepare to leave. “I promise,” you tell him, “to never be a shadow. But I’m not going to escape. Not yet.”

As you tuck your book under your arm and turn to leave, Dave averts his eyes. 

Maybe he is Icarus. Maybe he’ll take your hand and bring you with him, just so you can know what it's like to have wings. 

MARCH

“Dave?” comes your voice from the hallway, fast approaching.

He fights a smile and continues to read through Kovac’s latest mission report: racked with errors, as usual. “Yes?”

You appear in the doorway, your chest heaving a bit and your hair somewhat askew. It’s a vulnerable sight you rarely let show, and he looks down because his eyes are beginning to burn. “I ran out of closet space.”

Living with you has its unforeseen perks. The constant company of someone so sharp has its downfalls, but it’s never boring. It also comes with unforeseen challenges: namely, the fact that a rich princess like you tends to own more clothes than the average woman.

“You can use the second guest bedroom,” he offers. “It’s not like I ever have company.”

“Or a date,” you tease.

“Shouldn’t I keep a date in the bedroom with me?” He raises his brows.

“You make it sound like a hostage situation,” you point out. “Maybe you should work on that habit.”

He doesn’t remember when you began to eat your meals with him, in the kitchen, at his too-big dining table, but it feels like always. And it never gets easier.

“There’s no point in locking you upstairs. You’d charm the door into opening or some shit.”

You smiled at his grumbling and sat yourself in front of your meal. It was artistically plated, a streak of speckled sauce next to the ceramic bowl filled with cauliflower gratin. On Dave’s plate sat a medium-rare steak next to a pile of Swiss chard that Barry somehow managed to make look appetising. 

“At least people don’t burn witches anymore,” you said, waiting for Dave to pick up his fork before you took your own.

“You aren’t a witch,” said Dave.

“What am I, then?” You took a bite, savoured the crackling warmth of cheese and the soft textures on your tongue, and swallowed. “Enchantress? Vampire? Lock-charmer?”

“None,” Dave muttered. “Just… something different.”

For once, you didn’t prod. You stared at Dave for so many seconds that he could count them even without the rhythmic ticking of the clock on the wall. He did count, but he did not breathe. There was something about the way you looked at people that arrested all movement. His hand, clenched around his fork, his jaw, closed around a bite of steak. His heart, ceasing to beat, stilled by the reflection of the lights in your eyes. 

“Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever be able to know you,” was the first thing you said after the silence.

All he could think was, I hope so. God, I hope so. Know me, so you can tell me how.

Now, you lean against the doorframe, one hand curled around it. Come closer, he wants to say. Go, and go far. Never leave. There are obnoxious, pink, fuzzy slippers on your feet and a silk nightgown draped around your body, and he realises it’s later than he thought. “Shit.” He shoots upright, his gaze meeting yours. “You must be starving.”

You shrug, and he doesn’t like that. Be angry with me. Let a misplaced speck of dust enrage you. Let your most minute grievances sparkle into blue flame. Let it hurt for me to touch you. Let it hurt to earn your forgiveness.

Something glows in your eyes. It looks to him like knowing. “You want me to be angry with you for missing dinner?” 

He scrapes his hand through his hair. “Yes.”

“All right.” You step into the room in those stupid slippers and poke him square in the chest. 

“Fuck you, Dave York, for not feeding me,” you say icily. “Fuck you for missing this dinner and for all the dinners you’re going to miss. Fuck you for taking me away, for being kind, for holding a grudge against my father when I could never muster the courage to. Fuck you for your extra closet space, and fuck you for never exploding on me when I drive you crazy. Fuck. You.”

You turn away and storm off, but not without his hand in yours. “I’m feeling takeout.”

He decides that he likes the feeling of being dragged a thousand different ways by you.

~

He also cannot remember the first time you both stopped eating at opposite ends of the table. It seats eight, and with so many chairs in between you, it felt like occupying different sides of one solar system. Now, you claim the end of the table while Dave sits at the adjacent seat, breathing in the scent of your perfume and watching you when you aren’t looking.

Not true, of course. Somehow, he knows you’re always looking. Maybe not looking, but seeing. You can see things before they are things. 

“I think people confuse hedonism with amorality too often,” you say, prodding your next bite of sushi with the chopsticks. “They don’t have to go hand-in-hand. I know plenty of libertines who give to charity in their spare time.”

“I think the book isn’t just about Gray’s portrait. I think it shows humanity.” Dave takes a swig of his beer. You’re drinking one of the many reds from his cellar. “We’re all selfish. We all want to stay pretty.”

“How very cynical of the hitman,” you say with a soft laugh. “Maybe we do all want to ignore our sins.”

“How very un-Catholic of you,” he teases.

“I haven’t been inside a church since I was twelve, Dave York,” you say, kicking him under the table, your fuzzy slippers softening the blow to nothing. 

Your father, whom he knows for a fact goes every Sunday, wouldn’t be thrilled about that—if he paid a little attention, that is. “You don’t believe?”

You avert your gaze, which makes Dave frown. “There are things that happen to people in this world that a good God shouldn’t allow. Things even the devout can’t justify as lessons.”

The taste on his tongue is acrid. Salinity and gasoline. The angry smell of diesel pumping into a clear blue sky. The outrage of seeing something black pollute something clean and beautiful. 

You give him a small, sad smile. “The world isn’t kind to girls, Dave. We learn that early on.”

“Is that supposed to make it right?” His voice has gone hoarse, and food is ash in his mouth.

“No. But I’m beginning to come around to your viewpoint.” You steal a piece of sushi from his plate, and it’s a conciliatory action, something small and so big he can’t hold it long enough to study it. “Maybe we’re all evil.”

“So you do want to stay pretty,” he says, not quite right enough to laugh yet. His heart still sits wrong in his chest.

You bat your lashes. “You think I’m pretty?”

“I think a lot of things about you,” rasps Dave. “You don’t want to know half of them.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’d run.” He takes another bite and relishes the eye-watering spike of wasabi on his tongue. “And I don’t want you to go.”

~

“Boss.”

Dave hums, eyes glued to the page. Your suggestions are always… interesting. He'd expected a woman like you to enjoy frilly fiction. But he's reading a play. A goddamn play. And he's liking it. 

The Duchess despairs over the waxen figures of her family and resolves to die. Dave rubs his hand over his jaw, surprised by his own fury for Ferdinand. He's always envisioned himself impervious to being fooled; but he remembers the way you spoke to him that first night and realises he's always been fooled. 

How could he think he ever stood a chance against you?

“Uh, boss.”

Dave tears his eyes away from the play and pins Ari with a glare. “What?” 

Ari looks like he would rather be dragging his naked ass over hot coals than having this conversation. “Just thought you'd wanna know, the asset took a tumble. Got a bruise.”

He says it so fast that Dave blinks, trying to replay the last few seconds. He doesn't like it when the words sink in. “Excuse me?” He closes the book and leans back in his seat. Ari is avoiding his eye. “Care to tell me where she fell, Ari?”

Ari licks his teeth. “Uh, just… off the bed. Hit the nightstand. In her sleep.”

That's total bullshit. Dave’s hand curls into a fist on his lap. He doesn't want to know, but he's going to anyway. “And where will I see this bruise?”

“Her… her neck, boss.”

Dave exhales hard through his nose. A bull at the charge. “I don't hire you for your charisma, Ari. I hired you for your trigger finger. Don't fucking insult me by lying to me.”

Ari sighs. “It was Resnik, boss. She pissed him off and he put his hand around her neck. It was over before I could stop it. He realised he’d be in shit right away and bolted.”

Dave doesn't hear this last part. He's already out the door, headed for the guest room, rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. You're sitting on the edge of the bed, slipping on a pair of heels that match your silky dress. 

You face away from the entrance, past which he does not yet trust himself to move. “You want to murder Ferdinand, don’t you?”

He clears his throat before he speaks. “Yeah. I really do.”

“Told you.”

He pushes himself into the room and sits on the adjacent side of the bed. You’ve since acquired more flowers for your nightstand; the bed is made, and the closet is brimming with your clothes. It feels like you live here. Like you’ve always lived here. 

“Hey,” he says, gently taking your jaw between his thumb and forefinger. “Let me see.”

You comply, turning your body toward him and tilting your head to give him a good view of the faint purplish colouring just beneath your jaw. It’s barely a bruise, will disappear in a matter of days, but he had been so clear. Nobody touches her. He’d set the rules and one of his own men had broken them. He’s far past unimpressed. He’s furious.

“Your guards have no impulse control,” you supply. Dave’s chest is tight, his throat burning blue-hot. “To be fair, I pissed him off.”

“I’m not going to be fair,” says Dave, “and you shouldn’t be, either.”

“You feel betrayed,” you wager. He moves your hair aside and winces when he accidentally brushes his thumb over your bruise, even though you make no indication that it hurts. 

“Yeah,” he says, vocal chords scraping over rock. It's an understatement. 

“He's listened to every other order you've ever given him.”

He shakes his head, avoiding your eye. He knows he will see only the glint of gentle resignation, and he doesn't want to feel anything but anger. “This is different.”

“Why is it different, Dave?”

Because it's you. Because seeing a mere bruise on your skin is like witnessing a jagged tear in the wide blue sky. Because it’s wrong. 

“Because he works for me. And this was defiance.”

You smile like you know something he doesn't. “If everyone in the world listened to you, Mr. York, the world would happen to be a much more violent place.”

He laughs, too. “Maybe I should be glad you don't listen to me, then.”

“I listen to you fine. I just don't do everything you say.” 

“All right. You win.” As usual. “I won't kill him. But he's never going near you again.”

“See what good can happen when you compromise?” Your smile turns sickly-sweet, and it forces one on his face. A very small one. “Can we go out for dinner?”

He huffs, dropping his hand from your cheek, but not before playfully tugging on a small lock of your hair. “Yeah. We can go out.”

~

Resnik,

Attached is the file for your next target. LKL: Malta. Feel free to take as long as you need, since I don't want you back.

You should have listened. 

—York

~

He hasn’t locked your bedroom door for a month. 

For the past two weeks, he’s stood outside your door each night and listened. He doesn’t expect to hear anything in particular; he doesn’t expect you to run or to be conspiring with someone to hatch an escape plan. He just wants to be closer than the wall separating him from you. It’s a strange feeling: the itch for a warm, soft body enveloped in his arms. He’s so used to the cold ones.

One night, he swore he could hear your faint, heaving breaths and low whimpers, and his hand hovered by the doorknob as he squeezed his eyes shut and pictured the way you would touch yourself beneath the bedsheets.

His bedroom feels empty. It’s minimal, greys and whites and no pictures on the wall, but it’s the king-sized bed that feels disproportionate. Something is missing. 

Dave stares up at the ceiling long past midnight. Crickets make music outside, rain patters the window briefly, and he thinks of the woman two doors down from where he lies alone.

The Post-it note stuck to the lampshade by his bed is illuminated by the warm yellow light. 

My biggest secret?

I have a tramp stamp.

Your turn.

#pedro pascal #kiwisbell's fics #dave york #dave york x reader #dave york x female reader #dave york smut #the equalizer 2 #dave york x you #pedro pascal fic #dave york fanfiction

[midgardian-witch]

Love Lost

Marc died and with him Jake. But then they didn't. What is a heartbroken mercenary to do when their love is married to someone else?

A continuation of All That Matters

tags: Break Up | Fake Character Death | Blood and Violence | Minor Character Death | Crimes & Criminals | Lovers To Enemies (and later back to Lovers but not in this part) | Angst and Feels | Heartbreak | Emotional Manipulation | gender-neutral Reader

ships: Jake Lockley/gn!Reader (former), eventual MK System/Reader/Layla (in future installments), Raul Bushman & Reader

word count: 1.7k

AN: So I didn't think I was going to post this ever but after @strangerhands's amazing response to reading this I decided to publish it after all. This might become a longer series with no regular updates planned (yet) so bare with me.

AO3

Bushman had arrived back with not even a handful of mercenaries. You saw them being welcomed back by those that were told to stay behind, just like yourself. You craned your neck, not even trying to be subtle, but the one person you were looking for was nowhere to be seen. 

Blocking your vision, the leader of your mercenary group stepped in front of you. Your gaze travels up towards his face, a sad smile on his lips. 

His words are all but a blur in your memory. 

"I know you two were close," he said, his blood-soaked hand laying heavy on your shoulder. "Spector was a good man."

Was.

The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, Bushman's voice in your ear turned to garbled static. You're sure your whole body was shaking, heart racing so fast you could hear the blood pumping through your veins.

"It's always sad to lose a good man."

You could feel his arms wrap around you, holding you through the tremors of the reality you've had to face. Stomach churning, bile rising in your throat - you felt sick. Sick with the dread of what had happened. Sick with the feeling of Bushman's arms caging you in like you're a frightened animal. 

Back then you felt like it. 

You just couldn’t believe it. It had to be a dream - a nightmare. This couldn’t be happening. 

But it did. 

Marc Spector was dead. 

His corpse rotting in the desert sands. 

And with him: Jake Lockley. 

Bushman took you to his personal tent, trying to calm you down with soft words and a lot of booze. Later he told you the story, his story, of what had happened. 

That you believed that son of a bitch for even one minute still makes you feel ashamed.

Bushman helped you through the first days, weeks, months of grief. You had always felt something was wrong with him. The way he treated you, trained you. He told you then he wanted you to be his second-in-command. A loyal mercenary to help him when push came to shove. 

But you were stuck in this miasma of sadness and grief, unable to breathe. 

That was before he showed you the pictures. 

You saw Bushman looming over his desk, bits and pieces of paper strewn about the surface. As you approached slowly you couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at. They seemed to be photos: cheery, smiling faces looking at the camera, a kaleidoscope of colors and people. 

Until your eyes zeroed in on one picture, one familiar face. 

"I am so sorry, my friend" He said as he saw realization dawn on you. 

These were wedding photos. And the groom, a huge smile on his face, was Marc. 

Instead of elation, of the weight of grief finally lifting off of you, you felt your stomach sink. Looking at Marc's face, his very alive face, pushed the air out of your lungs. You felt like you were drowning, throat closing off and choking on the wave of emotion that hit you. 

His wife looked beautiful. Even through the picture she seemed like a kind and strong person. Someone amazing and skilled. Someone Marc could fall in love with. 

You always knew you weren't the right person for Marc. He had made it clear. You could deal with that. You were happy for him! After all: to love is to let go. And yet. 

"It's cruel, isn't it?" 

It took all your willpower to tear your gaze away from that picture, from the happy couple, towards Bushman's face. Your brows knit together in confusion before he continued. "You two were so close. To not even try and find you? Or send a message telling you he's ok? That must sting."

It did. But not because of what Bushman was impling, not because of Marc. 

You have me, mi vida. I will never lie to you. I will never hurt you. And I will never leave you.

But he did. He left you. Without a good-bye. Without an explanation. Without a sign of life. 

Jake had lied to you and he had left you. 

And that's what pushed you over the edge. Blood boiling, you didn't realize what happened until you saw your hand clenched around the hunting knife you keep strapped to your boot, the blade buried in the damned wedding photo, right between Marc's eyes. You had never felt rage like that. 

Bushman's low chuckle carries over the blood pumping in your ears. "That's it. That's the spirit!" He praised you on your outburst, congratulating you on leaving the small, sad shell of yourself you had become behind. 

You should have seen how delusional he had become far earlier but you were distracted. That distraction was over now, miles away, alive and married to someone else. 

Bushman prefered you angry, a well-trained attack dog for him to control. His personal bodyguard. His second-in-command. And that's what you became. You trained, you fought, you killed. When Bushman dealt with other things you were in charge and you were damn good at it. But once he had you in the place he wanted you to be, things changed. 

He became obsessed with Egyptology, the Ennead, and the countless relics still left to be unearthed. Not in the way an archeologist had an interest in the past but in the way a madman was lusting after power beyond the mortal world. 

He told you about his theories one night. 

"That's how your disloyal boytoy survived," You didn't even flinch at the mention of Marc, of Jake, anymore. "There was this temple or something there. One of the gods must have helped him," he murmured before he took another swig from his flask. The stench of cheap alcohol made your nose twitch. "That's the only way that bastard could have survived the amount of bullets I put in him."

You always knew deep down that his story, the one he told you when they returned to camp, dripping in blood and gold, was a lie. Now you had proof. 

Bushman's delusions had cost him the loyalty of his mercenaries, the one thing he so valued. Instead they looked up to the one person that would actually lead them, the one that was capable of making actual plans and successfully bringing everyone back alive: you. 

That fool should have never underestimated you. He wanted an attack dog, instead he made you something worse: his successor. 

As he was writhing in your grip, your hunting knife slicing through his throat with ease, you already knew none of the others would miss him. Your mentor, your leader, the man that tried to kill the person you loved, choking on his own blood, gurgling and wheezing until the last spark of life left him - that sound would stay with you forever. You don't forget the people you kill easily. You're not a monster after all. 

Mercenary work didn't feel right anymore after that. Too many bad memories. The other people that used to work for Bushmen, your people now, were easily convinced to switch their line of work according to your plans. What you had planned wasn't honest work, neither was being a mercenary, but there was a lot of money to be made from crime. Never do what you're good at for free and being a crime boss paid handsomely. You found a new base of operations, some place far away from the desert sands. Quite the opposite of the dry heat and endless sunshine. 

London was dreary to say the least. You're still not sure if you enjoy the rain most of the time, especially now that the novelty of it has run out. 

You're sitting in your office watching the rain drops slide down the window plane when there is a knock at the door. There is no rest for the wicked, you think as you call out for whoever was outside to enter. You see David, your second-in-command, step in, a tall man, one of the local criminals you had adopted into your ranks when you first arrived here. His worried look makes your stomach clench. 

"What happened?" you ask in a stern voice, already dreading the answer yet not wanting to give anything away. 

"I'm sorry, Boss. I have bad news. From what I understood from the group we sent on that Gloucester job-," he stops himself shaking his head in disbelief, "They were attacked. That's what Jimmy told me at least. Some guy in a white cape and a lady with golden wings. The others are still getting medical attention or didn't make it."

You blink at him, both of you sharing the same disbelieving look. "You're kidding me." He shakes his head. "I would never make jokes about that, Boss. I didn't believe it either but why would someone lie about that?" In a world with actual sorcerers, norse deities, WW2 soldiers surviving being frozen alive and billionaires in supersuits? It's a reasonable lie to pick. Your people were loyal though and while prone to lying if necessary, they never did so to you. 

"I really had hoped that this whole superhero vigilante business would stay in the US but of course not," you sigh and roll your eyes, "Just our luck." David chuckles in response and the corners of your mouth twitch into a smile. 

"So we got some guys in spandex trying to play hero," you repeat, "So how do we deal with that? Do we know anything about these people?" He shakes his head and steps forward to take a seat in front of your desk. 

"No, Boss. We just know that they are very strong, inhumanly strong."

"So Mr. White and his mysterious partner, possibly both with superhuman abilities," you think out loud so David can follow your thought process more easily. "We are going to need better weapons." David flinches when he hears your words. You look at him expectantly before he explains: "Our people had guns but apparently they didn't do anything." You frown, not liking what you're hearing. “That will be an issue. And there is nothing else we know about those guys? I'd rather not have to try and steal from Stark or some wizard to get rid of our little problem here.”

“Well, we have their names if they are who I think they are.”

“Out with it then!”

“They call themselves Moon Knight and the Scarlet Scarab.”

#jake lockley/reader #moon knight #moon knight fanfic #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #marc spector/reader #they don't really show up but idk how to better tag this because they will return at some point #fran-writes

[leechanpremacy]

People You Know

After the death of his wife, he starts a whole new life in a whole new city with his three year old twins only to meet someone from his past. What a way to start something new, right?

pairings: psychiatrist!jeonghan, parent!jeonghan x doctor!reader petowner!reader

tags: fluff, crack, slow burn, exes to lovers, romance, angst (if you think into it really deeply), swearing, inaccurate medical jargons + medications

word count: 2k

tag list: @sadgirlroo @loyard176 @fragmentof-indifference

notes: i’ve been dreading to write jeonghan as a parent of twins, now having the motivation and inspiration to write the plot, IM ON CLOUD NINE!!! lmao i’m also planning on posting this as an au on twitter if time, and motivation persists as my alter ego’s such a lazy ass bitch that takes at least half a month to find motivation to do updates on on-going twitter series’ THIS might also be turned in to a series (fuck, my mingyu series long forgotten 💀)

two | masterlist | four

three.

Sighing for the last time as you close your eyes as you rubbed your temples, “No, no. It’s okay. It’s your first time encountering the fluctuation. Just take note of what I said.” You softly explained to the resident doctor, hanging his head low.

After a few more apologies from the resident doctor, you went to the hospital cafeteria to buy coffee.

“No, just bring her back home tomorrow. I won't return, I'll be on stand-by for now.” Reaching out your card to pay for your food as you continued to talk with Dino on the phone. 

Shaking your head as you dropped the call, you went back to your room to work on some cases that you were handling.

"Sure, I can take a quick visit there. Yeah, yeah. So I can also see if I'd want a thing or two in my room. Hmm. Would it be possible to tag my children along? Alright, thank you so much." Pressing the end button, Jeonghan quickly made his way back to their couch. Calling his twins that were focused on watching television, "Dada's going out, who wants to come?" 

Whipping their heads in unison, both breaks in to a smile and raised their hands as they both yelled "Me!"

"Well, yeah. That's pretty much it. You can have a quick call with my department through the nurses' station since the telephone here has been disconnected for a while now." With a few more reminders, Jeonghan bid the staff goodbye before wandering his eyes around his new office.

It was still bare, but it was left clean. It was probably taken good care of the cleaning department.

"Is this your room, dada?" Jeonghan nodded, brushing his daughter's cheeks out of fondness. "Dada room, big!" Giving out big hand gestures as his son's eyes sparkle.

"Is it?" He asks, earning high-pitched yes from them.

He was watching his children with a fond gaze when the speaker blasted the emergency sound. Acting out of impulse, he quickly stood up, almost startling his twins as he reached for his chest pockets - only to find out that he wasn't in his coat and that he is now a psychiatrist, not an intern. Laughing at his actions, he looks down at his twins that froze as they looked at him with wide eyes, "Sorry angels," He coos, crouching down to hug his twins, giving them both quick and light kisses on the cheek.  

"The patient is currently having an episode!" The nurse quickly calls. You paid no mind to her direction as you pulled out your pen to see the dilation of the patient. "What was the last dose given to him?" Abruptly pocketing the pen as you reached for the patient's chart to see what the medication was. But you heard no one answer you the moment you saw what was written in the chart.

"Give him Ketoconazole," Swiftly making your way towards the designated stool for your patient to grab a medication safe for both seizures on intoxication and withdrawal reactions on renal transplantations and Ketoconazole.

The nurse practically flew as she came back with the medication as she reached for you the vial. You tilted it carefully, extracting the right dosage before pushing the solution out of the syringe.

You felt your shoulders relax as you watched the patient slowly recover from the seizure. Taking in a deep breath as you held your forehead, "Did the patient gain consciousness earlier?" You asked voice strained from the tension you didn't realize earlier.

"Yes, Doc." You could notice the quiver in her voice, but you were too stressed to open your eyes and lift your head. "How about visitors? Did he have any?" You didn't hear her answer, causing you to let out a breath.

Lips pursed, you looked at the nurse that looked at you nervously. "I... I wasn't on duty earlier..."

You tried to control your voice, not wanting to take it out on the poor girl. "Who was it?" The nurse answered in a low voice, "It was Nurse Anna..."

You couldn't help but laugh emptily. "Nobody was available to guide her?" Your brows furrowed as the corners of your lips curved downward. "No wonder nobody informed me about the patient gaining consciousness earlier."

The silence stretched for a few more minutes before regaining your composure, "You can go," you called he nurse before she could reach the door, "And can you please inform the guardian about what happened? I'll monitor him for a while. I'll wait for them here."

After checking his watch for the nth time, "Let's go home?" Thinking the emergency has dissipated already.

Holding their hands with both of his hands, they walked along the hospital corridor. From there, he saw a familiar figure trying to talk with a hysterical person. He could visibly see the frustration on the Doctor's face but kept a straight face as she continuously opened her mouth.

For one, he could be an ignorant person and lead his children the other way, avoiding such conflict that his children can witness. Two, he could retreat back to his bare office and tell his children to behave as if he'll do something real quick - to which he did the latter.

He told his twins to behave while he was gone, or else they won't get desserts for dinner.

When he reached them, the guardian was still arguing, "Why would you let some airheaded nurse watch my husband?! I pay this hospital fortunes so he could recover! Not the other way around!"

For the nth time, you sighed deeply, lips pursed tightly as you fight the urge to roll your eyes at the guardian. "We apologize for the incident Mrs. Nam. It is an honest mistake on our part. We will be held accountable for the incident.-"

 "No! Being held accountable won't make my husband recover from almost passing?! This is malpractice! I will sue this hospital!"

Eyes enlarging at the statement, "Mrs. Nam-" 

"Ma'am, you should watch your words." A voice interfered causing both you and Mrs. Nam to look at the owner of the voice. "Jeonghan," You called, he briefly looked at you, nodding his head whilst scrunching his nose in acknowledgment.

"If you sue the hospital Ma'am, Doctor Y/L will still be held accountable and you will receive some sort of compensation. However, if you'll lose, not only will you pay for her legal bills, but your husband could possibly be forced to move to another hospital." You wanted to interject with his claim but as soon as you saw Mrs. Nam halt from her position, you kept your mouth shut and watched them talk.

"Sorry to intrude, but I am from Wen's Law Firm." Handing a business card to Mrs. Nam. "I may not be a lawyer or Attorney but I still know the law, Ma'am." He says, shocking you.

'Didn't he dreamt of being a lawyer..?' You thought, confusion painting your face.

With a few more convincing words, Mrs. Nam finally calmed down and conceded the argument. Hanging your head low as your buck hunched from tiredness, "Thank you for that Jeonghan," Lifting your head as your brows slanted, "But you didn't have to scare her like that."

He chuckles, "I saved you from that and all I get is nagging?" You couldn't help but shake your head with a small smile, "I meant, the suing thing. You didn't have to brag and lie about that. Plus, you don't work on that Firm anymore, you could get sued for breach of contract or something?"

"No, I won't." Keeping his smile, "I worked with Jun's Law Firm, he wouldn't mind it if I used the name for you." You felt your breath hitched as you fluttered your eyes on his words. Too surprised at the tender look he gave you.

Disregarding the warm feeling that was creeping out your face, "What're you doing here by the way? I thought you'll start in October?" You could see the surprise on his face, making you giggle. It reminded you of how he was always shocked hearing sweet words leave your lips.

"I checked my office. Would you like to see it? The twins are there," You wanted to decline, but the way his eyes largen as they began to sparkle, you didn't have the heart to say no to him.

"Say hi to your Aunt Y/N," Warm greetings followed by cute smiles were flashed in front of you. "Hi," You crouched to their level, patting both their heads which caused them to giggle at you.

"So how's the room so far?" You ask, before removing your gaze on his twins to look at him. You were expecting him to answer immediately but he wore this dazed look as he watched you with his children. It didn't make you uncomfortable, but it made you grimace at the thoughts that flashed through your head.

You wondered, 'Did he remember us?' Displeased at your own thought, you brushed your coat, as you stood up, breaking eye contact with him.

"What was that again?" You repeated your question, "Oh, I guess there's nothing more to add. I got the essentials already. Probably the telephone connection, but aside from that, I'm fine with what they offered now."

You now started to wander around, with the twins sitting on the desk as their eyes followed you around. You tried your best to look interested in every object in his office just to avoid his eyes.

You're scared to see memories flashing back in your mind.

"How 'bout a snack corner? So your twins could be entertained when you bring them here." You could hear a creak but were too afraid to look. "I don't really plan on frequently bringing them to work. I don't want them to see hysterical episodes when I work with patients." He languidly says. You could imagine him leaning on a wooden desk or something with his arms crossed around his chest. You could also feel his gaze on you.

"Makes sense." Clicking your tongue, "Dada what is hystercal.. Episode?" One of the twins asks making your ears perk up, awaiting his answer. "It's cartoon! Dada, Yejun, right?!" You couldn't help but grin at the twins' understanding, you were even tempted to peek at their reaction, imaging their eyes bulging, similar to how Jeonghan does when he tries to prove his argument.

"No, angel. It's not cartoons." He says, "It's something only big boys and girls understand." He coos, earning tiny groans from the two. "But Dada! Me, Yejun! Already four!" You were now watching them, Yuna flashing five fingers to Jeonghan, trying to prove a point.

Softly smiling, "Angel, that is a five. And you two are still three." He fondly says, brushing his daughter's hair, trying to soothe her grumpiness.

"But, Uncle Cheol said Yejun, Yuna is big already!" A pout was evident on Yejun's face, making Jeonghan grin before pinching his cheeks lightly.

"You have a lovely family Jeonghan," You unconsciously say, causing Jeonghan to glance at you.

The smile on his face grew even more as his eyes settle on the twins, "They're the sweetest."

"Yeah, I'm sure both you and your wife raised them well."

"You fucking didn't tell me Jeonghan's widowed!" You whispered-yelled at Dino through the phone. You could hear faint chuckles, most probably coming from Hoshi. Oh God, you could already imagine his annoying ass on your face, saying 'I told you you'll come around!'

"Well, we thought you didn't want to know! You were adamant back then that you didn't want to hear anything from him! Heck, even if he was still breathing, you didn't want to know!"

Pursing your lips for the nth time, "Are you guys still not finished camping?" The change in your tone probably ticked the guys the wrong way as you heard shuffling from the other line. "We'll be there in an hour." Ending the call as you entered Doctor's cave.

You were now getting lost in your thoughts, piling questions on your mind that wants to be answered. You didn't want to trouble anyone with the thoughts popping into your head, but the urge to call any of Jeonghan's or any of your friends related to Jeonghan aside from the three idiots was growing.

#seventeen #svt #seventeen au #jeonghan #jeonghan dad #jeonghan x fem #jeonghan imagine #jeonghan drabble #jeonghan au #jeonghan parent #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan x oc #Spotify

[jasntodds]

Petrichor [10]

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

Words: 17,399

Chapter Warnings: Swearing, angst, canon drug use, drug use (don't do drugs), blood, bruises, injuries, look the anti-fear drug turns perfectly innocent people into raging murderers and makes them do things they would never do and that's all I'm gonna say for that one, canon violence, violence, mentions of abuse

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

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

A/N: I'm sorry this is extra late lol some personal stuff happened and editing has been hard lol then I was sick so here we are I'm so sorry!! You can add yourself to the tag list below, ask me to be tagged, or you can follow my library blog @jasntoddslibrary  and turn on notifications if you prefer that!! I love feedback, I swear it keeps me posting on a weekly basis 😭

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Instead of providing Dick with any sort of explanation you can think of, you decide you'll meet up with Jason instead. Dick knows he's alive and he's going to want answers which means you're going to be the one interrogated by him. But, Jason tried to kill Dick tonight and that is sending up a large red flag that almost makes you want to tell Dick everything. So, you figure you can meet up with Jason and hope he gives you a good enough reason to either keep your mouth shut or to spill what you know to Dick. Something is off and it's more than just Jason coming back from the dead.

You head outside to the front steps of the Manor. The only people awake are just you and Dick anyway, but you want to be outside for this one. You take out the burner and press redial.

"Shouldn't you be getting some damn sleep?" Jason answers.

"Shouldn't you?" You quip back. "Heard you had an eventful night."

"Fair enough." He remarks but he sounds tired.

"Can we meet?" You ask bluntly.

"Now?" Jason huffs, looking around his hideout that's lit up with lamps on the floor.

"Yeah, now." Your voice is flat and usually Jason can read what you're up to but not now.

"Why?" His brows knight together as the word is slow to leave his throat.

"I can't want to see you after you just fought the Titans?" You ask, a slight snip in your voice.

"You gonna bitch about it?" Jason quips back getting the idea maybe Dick told you what happened or Gar.

"No." You lie.

"Fine. Remember that alley the day we did that bust at the warehouse in Crime Alley?"

"Yes?"

"Meet me there. Leave now." Jason says quickly before hanging up.

You pull the phone from your head, looking at it. Now that's also a bit uncharacteristic of him. He always says it. He always tells you he loves you before he hangs up. Your heart plummets to your stomach. You made the Pet Sementary reference to him but you didn't think it would be literal. Now, you're starting to think maybe it is.

The idea that just because you can bring someone back from the dead, doesn't mean you can bring someone back from the dead. Something about them is different, there's a change. Like a part of their soul or something gets left behind. The good parts of them stay behind but everything else is what gets to come back. You know that's not entirely true because of how he was with you when you met up the first time. That can't be it. But there is something. And it's eating at you.

Jason, on the other hand, he knows you. He knows you want to meet up to check on him, yes. You’ll always want to check on him after any sort of fight with anyone. It’s what you do. But, he also knows you’re going to have questions about him attacking Dick and the other Titans. You tipped him off, sure, but maybe you didn’t think he was going to actually attack them. He knows you’re going to question him about it, probably lecture him. He doesn’t want to listen to it. He can’t listen to it. A part of him will want to break if he does and he knows it. He knows he will if he goes there clean. So, he doesn’t. He hits the inhaler and pockets it before heading to the alley.

Jason gets there first, hiding in the shadows until you show up. You’re on your bike, completely suited up. You don’t want anyone seeing you with him. Not the real you. Red Hood is pissing off a lot of people and you already have enough shit you’re dealing with. The last thing you want is a target painted on your civilian self for being seen with him.

You dismount the bike, popping the helmet on the handlebar as you look around. Jason walks out from the shadows, wearing the suit and the helmet. Of course, he is.

“I’m fine.” Jason states. You don’t like how the helmet makes him sound.

“Yeah, well, had to see for myself.” You let out a breath as you close the rest of the distance between you.

“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.” Jason takes the helmet off and he isn’t smiling or grinning. His expression is flat and your heart starts to sink.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean, Jay?” You shake your head, Jason getting a hint of annoyance in your voice.

“I mean I’m fine.” He rolls his shoulders, his voice flat.

Your eyes are scanning over him and it’s dark but you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have any bruises. It seems either the helmet and suit did a good job of protecting him tonight or Dick didn’t get a hit in. That’s at the very least a small relief but Jason Todd has never been fine. You’re starting to think he doesn’t actually know the definition of the word.

“Right. You have said you’re fine a hundred times and not once have you actually been fine.” You cross your arms over your chest.

Jason’s teeth grit for just a split second. “Don’t fucking worry. I told you. I got this handled.” Jason holds the helmet on his hip, his stance strong and sturdy.

He’s different than he was yesterday. He was grinning and smirking because it’s him. Whenever he claims to be fine, he gives you a grin as if that’s going to melt your worry away. But, not tonight and he seems bored and defensive.

“Why are you being so…weird?” You raise a brow at him.

Jason brushes you off, thankful for the drug coursing through his system. He’d never be able to deal with this without it.

“I’m not weird.” Jason defends.

“Yeah, you are. You’re acting weird.” You argue.

You don’t get it and maybe you won’t ever. But, this is him now. He’s not acting weird because this is the new him. Red Hood, fearless. He has no worries or fears anymore, just a mission. Jason swears he’s not acting weird, you’re just expecting the old him.

“This is just the new me.” He lets out this sort of chuckle that doesn’t sit well in your stomach.

“Uh-huh. Right. You seemed…kind of normal last time but now you seem…off.” Your eyes scan over his face and your heart is in your throat, the formula running through your mind.

“Just glad to be doing what Bruce couldn’t.” Jason holds his head up high with ease.

“This conversation is going fucking nowhere.” You let out a sigh as you look to the ground.

You came here with the intent to be sure he’s fine. It was to get some sort of answer. A real, solid reason not to tell Dick anything. Dick is going to have so many questions when you get back tonight. All of them will be about Jason and what his new plan is now that he’s alive. You need a reason to keep what you do know to yourself and Jason is giving you every reason to be worried enough to talk to Dick.

“So, go home.” Jason scoffs but he’s not even offended or upset. It’s like he doesn’t even care.

Your attention snaps back to him. “What the fuck? I’m worried about you and you don’t even care?”

It’s not that he doesn’t care. The drug numbs part of that but not entirely. It can’t otherwise they wouldn’t be able to have a plan in the first place. Jason has to be able to care about the city and the people he’s trying to protect otherwise there is no plan. It’s not that he does not care, it’s that he doesn’t care to go through the arguing in circles game while you dig for information.

“What else did you want? I know you want something else.” Jason dodges the question on purpose, knowing he won’t even feel guilty about it.

A lump forms in your throat as he dodges the question. He comes back to life and is, generally, normal but now he’s not? How is that even possible?

“Dick knows you’re alive.” You swallow the lump and if he’s going to pretend like this doesn’t hurt him, fine, you’ll do the same.

“Yeah, broke my other helmet, had a backup though.” Jason looks down to the helmet on his hip and then back to you with ease, the very corners of his mouth twitching into a grin.

“Oh, I’m so glad you have a spare helmet, Jason.” You snark through a scoff. “Unbelievable.” You look down and this is not how you wanted this to go. “Why did you try to shoot him?”

“He was in the way.” Jason answers casually.

The Titans are going to get in the way and Dick is the leader. Without him, the Titans will fall apart. Crane is right about Dick. He thinks he’s better than Jason. He thinks he’s the golden child, and he always was to Bruce. Bruce couldn’t even be bothered to kill the Joker for Jason but he would have for Dick. Dick dropped him from a skyscraper. Dick got him kidnapped and tortured. This all comes back to him and Bruce. 

Your eyes nearly bulge out of your head and you’re sick of the games with him right now. “Are fucking joking!?” You finally yell. This isn’t funny. Dick is his brother, he’s your friend. He could have killed him. What the fuck is wrong with him?

“Nope.” Jason gives you a grin. The drug loves confrontation.

This is not the Jason you once knew.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” You glare up at him. “He’s in your way? Well, damn Jason, maybe don’t attack the fucking Titans.” You gesture your hands out as you shrug your shoulders.

Jason’s blood starts to boil as you yell. You swore you weren’t working with them but from where he’s standing, it sure as shit seems like you are. Crane said you would. Crane said you’d start working with them the second you found out what he was doing. Maybe he was right and it’s pissing Jason off. You’re supposed to be on his side.

“I thought you weren’t fucking working with them.” Jason seethes. You lied. You lied to him. Of course, you’re working with them. Maybe Crane was right about you, too.

But you tipped him off. 

“I’m fucking not! But I give a shit about them. In case you forgot, Dick saved my life twice. Gar is our best friend. Conner saved your life. Kory fucking tried to save our lives. I know you care about them. Why the hell would you go after them?”

“Dick treats me like shit. I’m fucking no one to him. He thinks he’s so much better than me.” Jason scoffs. “You said Rachel was his lap dog, but look at you now.” Jason laughs cruelly as he closes some of the distance between you. “You’re the one screaming at me and defending him.” Jason shakes his head, looking down at you.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he were trying to intimidate you.

Maybe you don’t know better.

“You tried to kill him! He pisses me off sometimes, too but I don’t want him dead! I’m not his damn lap dog, either. I just don’t know what the hell is going on. And you won’t fucking tell me.” You grit your teeth, standing toe-to-toe with him.

“That’s because it’s none of your fucking business, but don’t worry, babe, you’ll see soon enough.” Jason offers this grin that you can’t tell is him taunting you or threatening you. And from here, with him nearly standing on top of you, you can see his eyes better.

His pupils are dilated and your heart is suddenly in your throat. On the one hand, making a drug and selling it to innocent people is really bad and you were hoping that was not it. But, on the other hand, a part of you thinks him taking something is worse in a way. The formula screams from the back of your head and Dick’s general concern about it, Jason’s weird and erratic behavior before he died. Him going after the Joker. He’s definitely high and you have no fucking idea how you missed that either or what even lead him here.

“Literally, are you high right now?” You question him, hoping against all odds whatever he’s on will make him tell you, like an overconfidence thing. “Because the Jason I know wouldn’t be laughing and trying to kill the Titans. The Jason I know wouldn’t be being such a fucking dick to me right now.”

Jason lets out a laugh, ignoring your question because he’s not playing into your hand. “So, go home.” There’s a wicked look in his eyes as he looks down at you. And it hurts. “This is me, new and improved.” There’s almost something threatening in the way his eyes darken to the deepest shade of evergreen you’ve ever seen.

“If you think this an improvement, I have news for you. The new you sucks.” You spit back.

It’s like the drug loves confrontation. It’s as if confrontation triggers something. The drug is supposed to suppress fear. That’s the point of it. But it seems to do a few other things. If confrontation starts, it’s like Jason gets an adrenaline boost but not in self-defense, instead, it’s more like skydiving. It’s actually fun, it doesn’t matter who the confrontation is with. It’s fun. Thrilling. Jason doesn’t realize that maybe that was Crane's plan. He’s a mad scientist. Maybe the drug is meant to suppress his fear but maybe it’s meant to control other parts of him in just the right way to do his bidding. Like using confrontation as another drug. Jason doesn’t see it. He can’t see it because the drug, at the end of the day, is Crane’s creation. Because Crane is the one pulling the strings behind the curtain.

And unfortunately for you, you’re kicking up the confrontation.

Jason’s smile falls as he shakes his head. There’s an anger that sparks across his eyes, something you’ve never directed at you. “Really? Not what you fucking said yesterday. Not what you said earlier today when you tipped me off.”

“You weren’t like this yesterday or earlier.” You argue, holding your ground.

Jason steps forward, making you take steps back until your back hits the alley wall behind you and your heart spikes. Your head isn’t throbbing but a very small part of you, is a little bit scared. This isn’t him. Jason wouldn’t try to kill Dick. Jason does not threaten you. But there’s a look in his eyes and if he’s willing to kill Dick and attack his friends, what’s he willing to do to you?

“Go. Home.” Jason warns.

The anger is flooding every aspect of him and he wants to give in. His brain says it's gonna be fun. It'll feel good to fight and argue. It'll be great to say everything that's crossing his mind right now. He won't feel guilty or fear or worry. It's it's own little high if he just gives in. Just a little bit. But the other parts fight hard with his teeth gritting together. He fights against the anger. Because it's you.

"What-what are you gonna do if I don't?" You lack venom in your voice because you're actually curious and worried what he'll do. For the first time in knowing him, you're worried what he might do. You know he won't do anything. You know he won't. If he were going to, he would have already. But it crosses your mind anyway.

His eyes are locked on yours and he wants to fight so bad. It's going to be fun and thrilling, it'll make him feel something incredible. But only for that moment, until the high wears off. That part of him that's still him, is banging and foaming at the mouth with a wailing cry, begging him to let it go and turn around. It's as if the drug is keeping the good parts of him locked away in a prison and Jason has to decide which side he's going to be on.

But it's you.

It's never really a thought at the end of the day.

Jason takes a step back, his fists balling at his sides. Not you.

"Just go and don't fucking tell anyone." Jason warns. "You promised you wouldn't and you said you don't break them. So, fucking don't." Jason uses your own words against you.

Relief starts to come over you and you've never seen him look at you like this. Dick is right. You hate that that thought is what comes to mind. Somehow, Dick is the one that's right here. This is not the Jason you know and love. He's high and something bad is coming from this. You're going to figure out what's going on, the full story, and you're going to get him back or die trying. He's in there, yesterday proved it.

"Fine." You agree because you aren't about to argue further when he's high. You don't want to see where this is going to go or how bad it can get. "But get your shit together, Jason. I'm serious." You move past him.

"Don't do anything stupid. I'm doing this." Jason huffs.

You shake your head and Dick can handle himself. You turn to face him. "You leave me and Gar the fuck out of your shit with Dick." You warn.

"Fine." Jason agrees. He never wants to hurt Gar anyway.

"Okay." You let out a reluctant sigh. "You know," You start as you turn to fully face him. "I'll figure it out, right? You know I will. I don't know what you need to do to prepare for that, but I will. And I'm gonna get you back." You hold your voice steady.

Jason raises a brow at you. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

Jason swears you can't know what's really going on. You know about the formula but Jason also knows he left a code in it to throw you, specifically, off. He doesn't think you'll figure it out and he's not entirely sure how you know anything else. He wonders if he's really acting so differently that it's sending up enough red flags.

"I know you better than anyone. I'll figure it out." You turn around. "Not giving up on you, Jay." You grab your helmet from the bike and he should be angry.

He should be scared but all he can do is laugh and there he is. There's the Jason you know. The real Jason would find you being nonchalant and casual right after that exchange amusing. It's why you did it. He's in there somewhere and you're gonna get him back. You just saw him yesterday and Dick showed you the formula. You don't like that he has to be right but he clearly is. So, you'll get him back, you're certain.

"You gonna stay outta my way then?" Jason gives you that signature grin of his and something about it eases some of your own worry.

"Guess I'll have my hands full while I figure it out so..." He can't see it, but you're smirking under your mask and helmet.

"Good fucking luck." Jason states as you start up the bike. You nod your head once before you peel off into the street.

He should be worried you'll figure it out. But he isn't and not just because of the drug. If you're busy digging into him, that means you won't be around the Titans. That means he can continue on with the plan without having to make sure you're safe. He can be as free as he wants to execute the plan in whatever way is necessary. You won't be the one caught in the crossfire. Jason is confident you won't figure it out because you have too much faith in him. You'll never believe he went to Crane.

Or maybe that's just the drug talking.

When you get back to the Manor, you meet Dick in the kitchen who's still awake trying to figure out how the hell Jason is alive. You didn't provide any information and announced you'd be back before you just left him standig inside of Jason's grave. He's hoping maybe you're willing to give him some information now since you're the one that asked to talk.

Dick places a cup of coffee in front of you as he takes his own seat in front of you at the one of the kitchen counters. "What do you know?" Dick questions, cutting right to the chase.

On the way back, you bounced back and forth on what you'd say and what you wouldn't. Jason's using and that's a problem. He's attacking the Titans which is also a problem. And he's acting weird towards you. You like to believe you can handle most things on your own but it's never really gotten you anywhere and you can't afford to fuck this one up this time just because you're stubborn and loyal to a fault.

"Look, my loyalty lives and dies with him." You state before you raise your brows. "Well, I guess lives, dies, then lives again." You roll your eyes. "And I'm not gonna betray him but...I actually don't know much." You state. "I just knew he was alive, not really anything else. He called me yesterday and asked me to meet up with him. I did. And it was him."

"How did you know it was him?" Dick asks and he isn't sure if he should believe you. You left abruptly, likely to meet up with Jason and now you want to talk? But, he's willing to listen.

"You and me." You answer. "Something we always said. He mentioned the necklace he gave me." You state as Dick glances to the infinity charm around your neck. "There's a tracker in it but only he would know that. Bruce didn't know. At least, we don't think he knew Jason did that. Few other things but that was the big one." You chew the inside of your cheek. "He, uh, he seemed...normal all things considered."

Dick's eyes narrow and he finds it hard to believe that's all you know. Dick knows the two of you were thick as thieves and you'd both go to the ends of the Earth to defend each other. But, you did admit to knowing you knew when Dick asked and Dick is getting the feeling you aren't lying this time.

"And you don't know anything else?" Dick pushes.

You take a sip of your coffee before straightening your back and clearing your throat. Dick already knows about the drug and suspects Jason is using so telling Dick that sucks, but he already knows. It's just confirmation and telling Dick how Jason is alive doesn't seem too bad. It's a Lazurus Pit, that can't be too much information. But, you decide to keep Jason having a partner to yourself. It seems safer that way. If they're dangerous like Jason thinks they are, it should be safer to keep that to yourself. But, telling Dick everything else, might be helpful in getting the old Jason back. You hate yourself for it. You hope he'll understand one day, you hope Jason will forgive you for it.

You don't think you'll forgive yourself.

"Lazarus pit. That's what he said. He said he doesn't really know how it works but someone put him in it and brought him back. That's all." You leave out him working with someone, figuring maybe that's for his own protection.

"Ra's Al Ghul probably." Dick lets out a scoff.

"League of Assassins, right?"

Dick nods his head. "Yeah."

"Think they have something to do with it? Besides the Lazurus pit?"

Dick shakes his head. "No, they would have no reason to bring Jason back, and Ra's isn't even in Gotham."

"Alright, well what are you thinking?" You ask in hopes maybe Dick has some insight. At the end of the day, you know you have a bias. You know your emotions can get in the way when it comes to Jason but Dick can put all of that aside to see what he needs to.

"You said you know him better than anyone." Dick nods his head. "Was he using? When you saw him?"

You hang your head before you offer Dick a solemn expression. "I don't know if he was using before he died. If he was, he hid it well but..." You roll your shoulders, chewing the inside of your cheek and you really hope Jason understands one day. "He was high when I met up with him." You admit, catching Dick off guard. "He wasn't yesterday but he was tonight. And for the fucking record," You state harshly. "That is the only fucking reason I'm telling you anything."

Dick didn't want to believe Jason could be using either. It's a hard pill to swallow and the confirmation does hurt him. But, Dick isn't too surprised. He found the formula and that would explain why Jason went after the Joker and how you don't know much of anything. Jason wouldn't want you involved.

"He must have been high. Maybe that's why he went after the Joker that night. Maybe he was high." Dick keeps his voice level as you roll your eyes.

"Yeah, probably." You scoff with the shake of your head. "And I missed it all which is shit. But, you know," You suck in a breath. "There's more to it and I know you know that. Him making the fucking drug and then taking it is weird as shit even for him. With his mom and shit...it just..." You shake your head. "Doesn't make any sense."

"Maybe it's a favor for someone." Dick offers, agreeing that the drug use and making seems a bit uncharacteristic.

Jason said he's working with someone and you think maybe the drug is a part of that. Whoever he's working with had to be the same person that brought him back which means they'd have to know he died in the first place. Likely would know he was going out to die which also means the Joker plan was actually a plan. You run it over in your head and the more you think about it, the more it sounds like whoever did this, had him killed on purpose with the intention to manipulate him. If the drug is linked then so is everything else.

"He'd need a good enough motive for that though." You suck in a breath. "So, if that's true, it has to be the person who brought him back, right? But, I don't know who that is. Jason didn't say shit."

"Why wouldn't he tell you?" Dick asks. "He told you a lot, didn't he?"

"Yeah, fucking sucks being left out." You snip back. "But, yeah, I don't know. He just said he can't and that was the end of it." You shrug. "Jason has only kept things a secret from me out of self-preservation that's actually just self-destruction or to protect me. So, not too big a fan of this."

"Okay well, I need you to meet up with him again and talk to him." Dick states. "We need answers and if you keep pushing him, maybe he'll tell you more."

"That's not....that's not fair. Talk about what? You want me to meet up with him and tell him to stop fucking around? And tell me everything as if I didn't already do that?" You huff. "What do you think I went to do tonight? I went for fucking answers and got none besides finding out he's high which he did not tell me. It was just obvious."

"If anyone can get to the bottom of it, it would be you. Like you said you know him better than anyone. He didn't tell me or Gar he was alive. He was shooting at me. But, he got you to meet up with him and told you first. You already know more than any of us so even if this is a new version of him that came back, the old Jason is in there somewhere. Enough to trust you." Dick tries his best to reason with you even if he knows it might be a waste of his breath.

"So, you want me to betray him?" You quip back, guilt rattling your bones like a storm cellar in the middle of a tornado.

Jason trusts you and that's not something you would ever take lightly. The one thing the two of you have always had with each other is trust. From the very first day, there has been this trust between you. It's just how it is and you getting any information and telling Dick, would be a betrayal of trust. Anything Jason says to you, you know without him even saying anything, is in confidence because it always is just as it is for you. You do not want to ever betray him, not after everything.

"No," Dick shakes his head. "It's not betrayal."

"He's gonna tell me not to tell you shit. And we both know I will listen to him." You urge and you do not want to be in the middle of it but you can't betray him. Everyone always does and you will not be like everyone else. "You want me to pick sides and look, okay? I know you guys are good and cleared up your shit and you're brothers but you are the like...leader of the Titans. That's where your loyalty lies. Gar, Kory, Conner, Dawn, Hank, they're all Titans. They will side with you. They all would follow you no matter what. Who the fuck does Jason have? That's what this shit always boils down to. He doesn't have anyone, Dick. It's just....him and me." You roll your shoulders.

"What if it saves him from himself?" Dick nods his head.

"What if it gets him killed permanently?" You question.

"You can still try. You don't have to turn on him. If he doesn't tell you not to tell us, you can come back and tell us." Dick offers, trying his best to be a voice of reason. He knows this is hard but Jason is out there killing people, innocent people, and now he's targeting the Titans. He needs to be stopped, regardless on how you feel about it.

"It's always shit said in confidence though. That's how it always is. If...if I do that, hard if, how are we supposed to come back from that? I would have been another person that betrayed his trust. It doesn't fucking matter what he's doing. I can't do that." You shake your head as you plead with Dick. "I'm not a Titan right now. My loyalty is still with him. And I don't want in the middle of it." You state. "Look, I don't even really disagree with him. He said he's cleaning up Gotham and like I said, Bruce's ways don't work. Jason, clearly, is on the same page."

"But you're having this conversation with me right now and that tells me at least some part of you doesn't agree."

"Yeah, I don't agree with him coming after the Titans and I'm worried about the drug side of this. That's the only reason we're even discussing this. I will always be on his side. I don't know if there's anything he can do that would make me quit. And this is hard enough as it is, Dick." You chew the inside of your cheek, tugging your sleeves over your hands. "I don't think he'll forgive me for telling you anything and I can't....I can't betray him more than this."

You know, without a doubt, if the roles were reversed, Jason would never give up on you. You won't do it to him, either.

"Do you believe this is all Jason? He woke up from the dead and chose this?"

It's something that's been bothering her. Him waking up and choosing this is not far-fetched. Him dying, choosing this, and neglecting to tell anyone including her about it, that's the weird part. Sam doesn't know what happened when he died but she has to believe that there is more going on. There has to be more than him just dying and neglecting to tell her anything. There has to be.

"I don't know." You shrug. "I did. He died and I chose this. So, I don't know." You clear your throat because as much as you want to believe this is all Jason, you know there's more. And you're terrified it's going to get bad. He went after Dick and this is more than Jason just trying to fight him in the Tower. "Okay, look, yeah I think something bad is going on. It is weird. I didn't decide to become a crime lord and make a drug. If, hard if, he tells me something I think I can get away with telling you, I will. But only if Jason gives me a reason to." You shake your head deciding that would be okay. Jason has to give you a reason though.

Dick nods his head and he knew it would be a long shot. "Okay."

Dick hopes you'll actually tell him anything. He needs answers and he'll keep digging himself, but you would be a big help in all of this. But, he knows the two of you have loyalty that runs deeper than the Titans.

"But," You suck in a breath. "This stays between us. I don't want the other Titans to know. They'll freak out. Well, Hank and Dawn anyway." You roll your eyes. "You know Gar, he'll believe Jason is in there somewhere. Conner doesn't know him well enough but he'll probably side with Gar or follow you anyway. Kory was the only one who didn't accuse Jason of anything. So, but if you tell one of them then you have to tell everyone so...stays between us."

You do not want Jason to figure out you're even having a conversation about working with Dick. That can't happen because you already said you won't work with the Titans. There is a reason Jason wants you out of it. If the Titans know you already knew and Dick and you had a conversation, that'll send up a red flag if it gets back to Jason somehow. And the Titans trust Dick. It has to stay between you and Dick.

"Deal." Dick sticks his hand out and you shake it. "I know this is hard but you're doing the right thing."

"If you say so." You roll your eyes. "That also means you have to get Gar off my back though. I can't go trying to meet up with Jason and Gar is right there. He won't tell me shit if Gar's around."

"Can you stop killing people?" Dick questions as he raises his brows.

You narrow your eyes. "Just while you're in town and while we sort this shit out. Got my hands a little full with Jason's shit. I still have a whole hitlist to get through, though." You raise your mug at him.

"That's not funny." Dick wanrs.

"It's not a joke." You chuckle. "I know you don't agree with me but I promise I'm not killing people who don't deserve it. I can give you their endless rap sheets. Guy I killed tonight while you guys were busy was lacing drugs and selling directly to kids and I mean like middle schoolers. He's been put away ten fucking times. They just keep letting him out. He's gotten over a hundred kids killed. Those are the fucks I'm killing. You don't have to agree with me but you should try to understand my point of view of it." You point a finger at him.

"I do." Dick nods his head. "Less kids people like him can kill but where do you draw the line?"

"Do you want to know? I have a line. They have to meet certain criteria otherwise I just scare the ever-living shit out of them and rough them up real bad."

"You have criteria?" Dick asks, his voice a mix of being appalled and confused.

"Yeah, I agree with you. We can't go out playing judge, jury, and executioner all the damn time. That's not justice. But, the system fails to protect people like me and you and Jason and Molly. It always has. It didn't protect my dad, who albeit is still a piece of shit probably, but he was hooked when he was in school. It didn't help Jason's mom. It looks at us and laughs in our faces and tells us to deal with it because we can't do anything about it. I'm doing that and hey, Jason's off his damn rocker, but he's targeting some bad people."

"Are you going to be able to live with yourself with their blood on your hands? I think that's why Jason stopped you from killing Jerry. He didn't want you to have that on your conscious."

"You know," You furrow your brows as you shake your head. "I killed some of CADMUS. And uh, I mean, I feel bad about it a little. I killed people, that's a heavy thing to carry. But, they tried to kill me, Gar, Conner, and Krypto. They tortured them. I feel bad because I'm not a monster but I also know it's what had to be done. I kill these guys and it's like...I feel bad. Someone out there gives a fuck about them. Someone out there is going through what I went through when Jason died. I feel bad for them. And I feel bad for taking a life but then I look at how many people they've either permanently hurt or killed, and I'm keeping track. I'm keeping track of every person I save by killing them. And I feel less bad about it. I feel bad because they were a person with a life and a beating heart. But, I can live with it because of the list of people I'm saving in the process. That sounds a little, uh, egotistical but it's true. That's why there's a criteria. Killing one person by accident doesn't mean they get to die. That's not justice. It's gotta be bad. Batman walks the streets and it doesn't stop these fucks. I feel bad about it, but....it's better than them killing and torturing people with no reason to stop."

"So, you think Bruce was right for throwing all of his morals away to kill the Joker?"

You let out a snort. "No, but that's not because of his morals and shit. I think anyone is capable of throwing their morals away for certain shit without it actually changing their moral compass, like Bruce killing the Joker." You explain as you sip your coffee. "But, I think it's fucked Jason had to die. None of the other people mattered enough to do something permanent about him. It took Jason's brutal murder for him to finally do something and I gotta problem with that. If anyone should have killed him, it should have been me. He killed my mom and he took Jason. Bruce only did it for Jason. I think, if you're gonna kill people for the greater good, it shouldn't be because of one single person. It should be for the greater good. There should be a list of reasons why you're killing someone. A list of reasons why they have to die. I gave Bruce all of those reasons and those weren't enough. Jason was. And that's not fucking fair to every other person that had to suffer by the hands of the Joker. So, no, fuck Bruce for killing him now. What's he gonna do? Come back and welcome Jason with open arms as if he isn't the reason Jason was murdered in the first place? Fucking stupid."

"Have you been thinking about all this this whole time?" Dick can't help but chuckle.

"Yeah," You shake your head. "And Jason but....that's been a topic I don't so much like to think about lately. So, I made a hit list." You smile softly. "Got a list of bad people to get through that Bruce won't do shit about."

"So, what you gonna go off after the Penguion next? Does he fall under your criteria since the Joker's gone?" Dick quips back, mostly digging to make sure you aren't planning on doing something like Jason.

"Nah, I think he's a fun little guy." You let out a laugh. "Something about him makes me laugh. He's bad, too sure, but he's not...that bad in the grand scheme of shit. Ya know? Penguin, sometimes helps here and there. He's not evil."

"You've had the pleasure of meeting him, then, I'm guessing?" There's a smile tugging at Dick's lips.

"Oh yeah. We went after him for something with Bruce once and I just thought he was funny. He was so serious and somehow not. If the camp genre were a person, it would be Penguin. So, I start actually laughing which then made him really mad and naturally made the whole thing that much funnier to me. So, Jason starts bursting out laughing at the top of his lungs. We're both doubled over and Penguin's face starts turning all red and he was stomping his foot. He starts yelling at Bruce to get us to stop and take him seriously and we don't know who we're messing with." You shake your head mockingly as you laugh. "His goons were trying desperately not to laugh with us!" You say through a hearty laugh. "I thought Bruce was gonna blow. But, I think he wanted to laugh, too."

"Yeah, he's always been a fun one to deal with." Dick chuckles softly. "I used to give him hell. Make fun of him. When I was Robin."

"Good, it's a lot of fun." You laugh. "I mean, he's like you. He goes by fucking Penguin and you go by Dick. You guys are setting yourself up for the jokes."

"I can't believe you just compared me to Penguin." Dick deadpans before a small smile cracks the corner of his lips.

"Facts don't lie, Dickolas."

You take another drink of your coffee and Dick is trying to be a better leader. You're going through it. Somehow, you're the one stuck in the middle of everything and you're the one most likely to be hurt in this mess. The person you care about most died and is now lying to you and fighting your friends. This can't be easy.

"Really, how did it go with Jason?" Dick asks, earning an eyebrow raise from you. "I'm asking for you, not for information."

"You being caring is kind of freaking me out." You chortle before you shake your head as a side smile starts to come to your lips. "Good, I think." You nod. "Ya know, Jason remembers everything. About us..." Your brows furrow tightly as your face falls. "And he said he remembers dying. So, there's that. Uh, but he seemed...mostly normal, actually besides the hair." You gesture to the front of your head as you crack a small smile.

"Yeah, I saw that. What's up with that anyway?" Dick chuckles. "At least he seemed okay. He told you he remembers dying?"

"Side effect of the Lazarus Pit, I guess." You shrug a shoulder. "He didn't want to talk about it, remembering dying I mean. But he said he remembers." You clear your throat. "So, that's a little worrisome. Ya know, given how Jason deals with trauma which is that he literally does not." You roll your eyes. "But, at least he's alive ya know? Being a shithead again but alive."

"Yeah, that's true. Are you going to be okay?"

"Yeah, just need some time to process it." You clear your throat. "When you tell the Titans and half of them inevitably flip out because I knew, let them. I'll be fine." You hop down from your seat. "Like I said, they trust you. Keep it that way. They won't trust me regardless. We all know my loyalty is with him. They can't know you knew I knew. I'll be fine. I've told them off before." You start your walk to the doorway. "Night, Dick." You offer a soft smile and a nod before you spin on your heels and leave Dick alone.

Gar wakes you up the following day, saying Dick has called a meeting with everyone. You know exactly what the meeting is about and everything starts to ache from the pit of your stomach. It sucks that they're all going to know you knew and didn't tell anyone. And it sucks because that also means they'll know it's Jason under the Red Hood and maybe they won't be so forgiving. They never have been with him.

But you walk with Gar to the main living room anyway. You take a seat beside Gar with Krypto sitting at your feet and the other Titans are scattered around. Dick stands in front of all of you with his arms crossed.

Once everyone is gathered, Dick starts telling you all how he broke Red Hood's helmet last night and it was Jason. He follows it by saying he dug up Jason's grave to verify it was him. You find it weird no one even bats an eye at the grave digging but of course they don't. You keep your stare on Krypto as you pet him, knowing one of them is going to accuse you of knowing as soon as Dick finishes his explanation. You can feel Gar's stare on you and without even looking at him, you know he figured it out. And it nearly kills you because you feel like you betrayed him and that's not fair. Jason put you in the middle of it.

"You knew, didn't you?" Hank glares directly at you.

You look up to him and suck in a breath. "Well..." You shrug, scrunching your nose.

"What the hell?!" Gar yells. "And you didn't tell me!?" Gar stares at you in disbelief and you can handle Hank. He's an ass anyway but Gar? You'll never forgive yourself for keeping it from him even if it was just two days.

"Well, kind of yeah." You chew the inside of your cheek, looking away from Gar.

"And you didn't think to tell any of us?" Kory demands.

You chew your lip. You know you or Dick will tell Kory the entire story eventually and she'll understand but it hurts anyway. "He asked me not to and you all know how deep my loyalty runs with him." You glance to Dick and he doesn't like that this is what they're doing. They're not going to trust you.

"Did you know he was going after the Joker that night? Was this the plan the whole time?" Dawn questions.

It's better that they don't trust you. It's easier for you to pick a side. You need to work Jason's angle but you cannot do that if they know. Jason is smart and he'll figure it out. So, you have to swallow your guilt and stick with being solely and entirely on Jason's side just as you always have been.

"You think I knew?" You scoff. "Like that whole thing? You think I knew and just...let him do it?" You look to Dick again, as if waiting for him to add something in. He's the leader.

"You knew he was alive." Dick adds in.

"Knowing he's alive and knowing what he was up to are two very different things." You state.

"Why should we believe you?" Hank demands. "You've been lying to us the whole time!" Hank fumes as if that's going to get him anywhere.

"Because? I wouldn't let him get himself killed. In case you forgot." You retort as you scrunch your face. It is actually ridiculous Hank thinks you knew Jason was going after the Joker and let him do it. The anger starts to wash over any guilt you had just minutes ago.

"Hey! We apologized for that shit!" Hank yells. "How do we know you didn't know he was going to get killed on purpose and get brought back. Pretty convenient, isn't it?" Hank spits.

You can feel your blood start to boil. You knew this is what was going to happen but it's annoying anyway. It's the fact they think you would let him get killed. It's the fact they think he would go out and get killed on purpose. They didn't even really know him. They don't really know you. They think your grief was all fake. You get they don't believe you, you can see why. But it's also absurd. They should be mad you didn't tell them, but they should believe you would do everything in your power to stop him from going after The Joker. They should believe Jason wouldn't get killed on purpose. This is all so absurd and you aren't going to let them drag you and Jason through the mud when they don't know anything.

You nod and let out a dry and narrowed chuckle. "You know how you can believe me? Call Bruce, hunt him down, hunt down the phone records or whatever, listen to the phone call." You look to Dick. "You can ask Babs if she thinks my reaction was fucking fake. You can ask Molly who found me on the bathroom floor. I don't care but I didn't fucking know and fuck you for thinking I did." You look back to Hank with glassy eyes. "Do you know what it's like to try CPR knowing it's useless? I was covered in his blood. I didn't fucking know and he didn't get killed on fucking purpose."

"You really didn't know." Gar says quietly.

"Nope." You shake your head. "I found out two days ago."

"What about the drug? Did he say anything?" Dick asks, hoping that can calm the room down. He doesn't think you knew any of it.

"Nope. I wouldn't let him make a drug. Ask Bruce, I told him I was gonna call you and have you bring us back. Bring him back kicking and screaming if we had to."

"Are you supposed to believe this shit?" Hank yells out, gesturing a hand towards you. "Dick, come on, she's been lying to us this damn whole time. He was prepared for us to show up last night. She tipped him off!"

"Hey, fuck you!" You scream back. "Maybe he was just fucking prepared. It was a damn code! I didn't tip him off!"

"I don't fucking believe this shit!" Hanks storms.

"That's a you problem then." You quip. "Can I go now? This is you guys problem."

"No, we're not done here." Hank boasts.

"Okay, so finish up." You snark back.

"Look, Jason did this to himself and we need to find out what else he's planning." Hank crosses his arms. "He needs to be stopped."

You let out this laugh that sounds both heartbroken and pissed. "Okay."

"I always knew something was off about that kid." Hank scoffs.

"Fuck." You yell. "Seriously?" Your eyes start to water. "What the fuck is...." You pause, looking to Gar. "You know what, you're not fucking worth it. You're just gonna sit here and victim blame anyway. Have ya noticed the rest of the room is simply...confused and not losing their shit? That's just you, pal."

"He isn't a fucking victim!" Hank scoffs with a laugh. "He got himself into this mess. He could have walked away!"

"How can you say he isn't a victim? I know he told you! His mom being an addict and neglectful, yeah, victim. His dad was abusive, victim. The system? In and out of shitty foster homes, victim. Bruce took Robin away without ever having a conversation about it, victim. You...treat him like shit, victim. All of you made him want to kill himself, victim. The Joker murdered him with a crowbar, victim." You scoff. "You're not a fucking hero and I think you're the one that needs to hang up the cape and mask if you can't grasp the simple concept of a victim."

"We all have bad experiences but we're not looking to get ourselves killed and start killing." Dawn states softly.

"I'm not out there killing people." Hank grits his teeth at you "He needs to be stopped and whoever the hell he's working with, whether you like it or not, kid." Hank scoffs as he moves towards the hallway.

You aren't done yet though. You do not like Hank and if he's really going to point the blame at Jason for everything that led him here, you're going to get under his skin.

"Before you go, if I did know more, I wouldn't tell you guys anyway. I'm killing people, too and you guys don't have an issue with that. Just Jason. So, uh, you guys are on your own with this one. I'm with him." You grin back at Hank and you want to push him further. Really drive home the point you're not with them. You also just don't like him. His apology seemed more hollowed and like he was doing it because Dawn said it was the right thing to do.

"We're not playing fucking games here!" Hank yells and Dick wants to know what you're doing. You could have let him walk off and let it rest. But it is you. You don't usually do that when it comes to Jason.

"Oh, I'm not playing games either. But I know him better than anyone so while you guys are thinking poorly of him, I'll be on his side actually listening to him like I always have which then I'll get more information and I'm not sharing." You shake your head with a grin.

"Hey, kid, we're not messing around." Hank threatens. "You're gonna tell us what you know, or we're switching teams. You won't like that."

You let out a booming laugh. "Yeah, Hank? And uh, what the fuck are you gonna do about it?" You question him with a sinister grin as you get to your feet. "Gonna fight me? Torture me? Threaten to kill me? Go for it. Here's a statistic for you: Torture doesn't work. It's been proven. People are more likely to give you false information just to get it to stop. And considering the fact I was tortured for a year and nearly murdered twice, that shit does not scare me. You'll have to kill me before you get to him. And if it comes down to that, I'll have given him the heads up."

"Unbelievable." Dick sighs.

"Told you, I'd hide a body for him."

"I don't want to kill him." Dick states.

"I will." Hank scoffs. "If it ends up him versus me, kid's going down."

"So, we're killing Jason now?" Dawn questions, almost appalled. She's confused by the whole thing but you're right. The Jason you all know isn't a murderer. There is something else going on and they don't kill their own.

"Jason's always had his issues but he wasn't a full-blown psychopath." Kory adds in.

"I still think he was using. The Batcomputer didn't find anything but I found the place he was cooking." Dick states.

"He wrote his own ticket. He starts taking people out, game's over." Hank scowls.

"And you'll have to go through me, Hank." You step past Krypto, taking a few steps towards Hank. "You're not gonna kill him. I might not be able to take on Dick, but you?" You laugh. "In my sleep." Hank steps forward, Dick stopping him. "Ohhh, scary." You mock him. "I'm not fucking afraid of you." You mock him and then it hits you.

The conversation with Jason, a cure for fear. You said it would affect his adrenaline. He wouldn't care for things. It would have side effects besides just getting rid of his fear. He made a drug. He's working with someone. The way he was acting weird yesterday. He attacked Dick. Jason went after the Joker and missed the Joker right behind him. Drug that cures fear would also block out basic instincts like someone lurking behind him. Drug that cures fear.

You're gonna kill him.

You shake your head. "Here's the deal, figure it out yourselves because I'm not fighting him and I'm not betraying him. Ever. I don't fucking care. Now, I've got some shit to do so if you'll excuse me." You walk up to Dick. "You have that formula?"

Dick eyes you with confusion, pulling the paper from his pocket. "Why?"

"Told you, I'm gonna figure it out and I'm not sharing." You snatch the paper from him and leave the Titans to themselves.

"Thanks for the backup, man." Hank turns to Dick.

"Let it go, Hank." Dick lets out a sigh. "I believe her. You should, too." Dick leaves the room.

You head to your room and sit down on the bed with the formula. You pull out the tablet and start working on it. You do research into some of the files Bruce has, trying to figure it out. You make a lot of progress on it but there's a part of it that doesn't make sense. It's not a chemical or a compound. It doesn't actually mean anything. And you're thinking Jason prepared for this.

You think Jason prepared for someone to find it. Dick did it his first day which means he didn't really hide it. Jason is smart. And clearly likes codes. Maybe he should have teamed up with the damn Riddler. That might be better than what you're thinking because you have suspicions this missing piece of the formula is a code for something he didn't want anyone to figure out. And you were never very good with codes but you know someone who might be.

You make your way inside of the restaurant where you see Mr. Drake behind the counter. You offer him a kind smile, stuffing your hands deep into your jacket pockets.

"Hey, haven't seen you in awhile. The usual?" He asks.

"Uh, yeah, but um...I was actually wondering if, uh, if Tim were around? I promise I'm ordering the usual." You let out a soft laugh as you roll your shoulders.

"Yeah, of course." Mr. Drake looks over his shoulder. "Tim! Come out here, please."

Tim walks out a few seconds later, stumbling slightly over a box. Tim sees you and he's surprised to see you. Tim is very observant and he knows something that no one else has been able to figure out. He thought you might be down and out for a while because of it.

"Hey." Tim greets with confusion.

"Hey, do you like puzzles? Like codes." You rush out, trying to make it sound casual. "Genius."

"Uh..." Tom chuckles softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I guess. Why?"

"Can you help me with one?"

Tim walks from behind the counter, resting a hand on your arm and moving you both off to the side. "Are you okay?" Tim questions and he's known you a little through the years, not really well. But, he thinks he knows you well enough to know something weird is going on. Your boyfriend just died. "I saw Jason...on the news." Tim states.

Your eyes widen, somehow forgetting that naturally all of Gotham who watches any bit of the news or keeps up with things on social media would know Bruce Wayne's newest son was killed in a 'tragic accident'. Of course, Tim knows that.

"Right, yeah, no, uh, it's been really fucking hard. I, I just can't focus on it. I'll start crying. Thank you though." You brush it off and you wish you didn't have to lie so damn much.

"Why do you need help?" Tim's brows furrow, not buying it.

"It's a game kind of." You roll your shoulders. "I mean, you're really smart so..."

"Don't you live with Bruce Wayne? Isn't Dick Grayson back, too? They're really smart. Why are you coming to me?" Tim crosses his arms and he's definitely digging for information.

"If you can't help, that's fine. But I thought it was worth a shot." You shrug and you used the Batcomputer to look into him.

You've talked every time you've come to get food. You don't have many friends. And Molly is smart but not like this and you can't risk Molly going to Dick about it. Tim doesn't know any of them well enough to go back to Dick. And Jason probably won't figure out you went to Tim given you tend to keep Jason's secrets locked away with all of yours.

"Come on." Tim gestures for you to follow him and you offer him a wide smile.

You follow Tim into the side door through part of the building that leads into a hallway. Tim opens a door further down the empty hallway and walks right in with a sense of pride. You see an entire set up of computers and crime boards. On the walls, he has pictures of the Titans and Robin and Batman. He's definitely doing research into all of them and you think it's funny. You both always talked about who Batman and Robin could be but you did expect him to literally be putting together actual research, not like this. Him looking into Batman and Robin is kind of whatever at this point, but the Titans has your interests piqued.

"You looking into the Titans?" You gesture a finger lazily to one of the walls with pictures and news articles.

Tim holds his head up high. "I know you're a Titan." Tim holds the most confident grin you have ever seen.

You do a double take. "What?"

"You're a Titan. Acid generation, I'm guessing combat clairvoyance, too." Tim explains with ease.

Your brows furrow and you have no idea how the hell he even knows that. He hasn't been able to figure out Batman and Robin for years, but he figured you out in only a few months? A part of you is actually offended. You swore you did a better job of hiding your identity than Dick and Jason did.

"I'm not a Titan? They're from San Francisco and I'm definitely born and raised right here which you know." You raise.

"But you were uprooted, two years ago to San Francisco." Tim walks over to a desk and pulls out a file, handing it over.

You take it cautiously and you hope he knows this whole thing is weird. But, you open the files anyway and it contains information on Jerry and where you moved to. Which only makes you question how he got this because those records are supposed to be sealed.

"How the fuck did you get this?" You close the file, waving it slightly.

Tim shrugs. "I'm good with computers."

"You hacked into CPS and the GCPD to get this?" Your eyes narrow and he's definitely completely insane for this. What if he were wrong? You do admire the dedication though.

"And SFPD." Tim adds in. "Jerry was beat up pretty bad but it was just...brushed off. I think it was you. They found someone there, but it wasn't you."

"Okay, there's so much wrong with all of this, like you know that, right?" You ask. "And why the hell were you looking into me? I'm not a Titan and this is weird."

"I know it's you. The acid really gives you away. And I recognized how you walked." Tim explains. "And I've been looking into all of the Titans so..."

"You...what? You know how I walk? Do you know how insane that sounds or?" You're trying desperately to think of a lie for him to believe but at this point, you're not sure there's anything you can really say. He has it all figured out with you.

"I have a photographic memory." Tim states. "And the acid isn't some run-of-the-mill acid. It's a specific chemical compound. It's like a fingerprint."

"Okay, I'll humor this for a minute. If you live in Gotham and the girl you're thinking is me is from San Francisco, how exactly do you know the chemical compound of Bluejay and the Titan are the same?"

"The internet." Tim scoffs. "There are forums dedicated to you guys."

"Haven't you ever heard not to believe everything you read online?"

Tim chuckles softly. "Okay, I also know who Nightwing is, Batman...Robin." Tim looks to the ground with the last word and your face falls.

"Yeah, you sound insane," You let out a huff but if Tim does know this might be a problem for Dick later so you'll humor this a little longer. "I am interested in all of this though, so how do you know all of this?"

"Dick Grayson is Nightwing, former Robin. Robin1.0. Dick Grayson was in the Flying Graysons and he can perform a certain trapeze trick that only two people in the world could perform. Dick and his father. You know who else can do that trick? Nightwing and Robin 1.0." Tim explains with excitement as if he's been dying to share this with someone. "Bruce took in Dick and if Dick is Robin, Bruce has to be Batman." Tim continues. "I knew another Robin came in because the fighting style was different, the way he walked, the height difference."

"That's what I pointed out, too, to be fair." You point out.

"Exactly, well, Bruce Wayne took in Jason Todd." Tim looks away. "And...well..." Tim sucks in a breath.

"Robin 2.0 and Jason died around the same time, right?" You fill in what Tim doesn't want to say.

Tim nods shyly. "Yeah, and I recognized how he walked, too when you introduced us that day." Tim clears his throat. "So, if Dick is Nightwing, he's a Titan. Jason would have also been a Titan. That's how you met them. Now you live with Bruce during the same time Bluejay shows up."

You think about it for a second and actually, how has no one else figured that out? It is actually so obvious. But, you can't tell Tim that. He might be your friend but there's a lot going on and Dick and Bruce's secrets aren't yours to tell, even when you're mad at Bruce. It's not your place. And, honestly, you're a little worried what would happen if Jason ever found out Tim knew, especially right now. Would it paint a target on his back? To know Red Hood is Jason Todd? You won't risk it.

"Solid theory, I'll give you that but I also know Bruce and Dick. And uh, Bruce isn't a hero and Dick is a good detective, that's all. I'm just trying to survive. So, your math is a little off. But, I do need your help so we can keep going back and forth or you can help me." You change the subject before Tim gets any further into this. Dick is going to lose it.

"Alright, what is it?" Tim lets out a sigh but he knows he'll come back to it.

"Okay, I have this bit." You hand him a piece of paper where you traced the letters. "I don't know what it means but I know it's a code for something. And I think some of these chemicals are codes for real chemicals or something. They're not real so..."

"What's it for?" Tim quirks a brow as he gives you a grin.

"That's for me to figure out after you tell me what it means." You smile cheekily at him.

"You want my help but you're not gonna tell me?"

"No." You laugh. "It's just a project, it's not relevant."

"Okay." Tim sighs, walking over to one of the tables and you follow him.

Tim is definitely being so forthcoming because he knows he's right. He's helping a Titan right now. He's so sure of it and that's why you won't tell him anything. He had his suspicion of you and Jason. When you both came in, you both usually had some sort of bruise on you. And Tim had already figured out Jason was Robin. You were an easy puzzle piece to place after that. And he's definitely going to help a Titan.

"Got some of the chemicals for you." Tim states after a few minutes, showing you some of his work. You spent an hour on that and couldn't figure it out. How does he do that?

You look over the paper and you recognize a few of the chemicals but nothing rings a bell. "Huh." You mutter. "Anything else?"

"What are the chemicals used for?" Tim questions.

"I don't know." You shrug, only half lying. "I'm not a chemist." You quip. "What about the actual title? I mean that has to be a clue."

Tim works for what only seems to be a minute before he slides the paper over with pride. "Fear." Tim states, Tim leans back in his chair with a confident smile but he watches as your face falls.

"What?" You question as you look at the paper hastily.

"Says fear." Tim states. "That's the code."

You look back at him. "You sure?"

"Positive. Why? Is that important?" Tim raises a brow as he watches you carefully.

You were really hoping you'd be wrong but a drug leading to fear, Jason is working with someone that's dangerous. He won't tell you anything. Of all people and of all things Jason would be doing, he's doing this shit?

"Oh, that fucking dumbass." You grit your teeth. "Thank you, this is very helpful. I'm gonna go grab my food and be on my way." You let out a sigh, hopping down from the table as you grab the papers from Tim.

"Wait!" Tim calls after you as you're already headed for the door.

"I can pay you if you want, for your time. Really, I really really appreciate this." You let out a sigh.

"No, not that." Tim shakes his head. "What is it?"

You look at his board with all of the Titans and he's got it all figured out. He'll be fine. "You're really smart. Thank you. Don't do anything fucking stupid, though and be careful. Looking into that shit, might get a little messy." You pause and he's got it figured out. There's no stopping him but you aren't going to risk Scarecrow of all people, figuring out you involved him. "Hey, seriously, do not tell anyone we had this conversation. I was here for food, the usual, end of story. No one."

Tim nods his head. "Are people--"

"Nope, it's, uh, it's a-a murder mystery game we play." You lie. "Everyone is just trying to get my mind off it, ya know?" You suck in a breath. "And don't go telling people you think Bruce and Dick are the heroes. They'll also think you're insane and you'll get yourself committed."

"Isn't that cheating?" Tim raises.

"No, using my resources but they may not see it that way which is why you can't tell anyone." You grin before you turn on your heels and head out.

You head to the place you found Jason sneaking off to before he died. You caught him doing something and you hate to think this is what he was doing behind your back. Making a drug. It's insane to you. Jason was desperate but you had no idea he was that desperate. Of all the things for Jason to do, make a drug and possibly work with Jonathan Crane. He's the maker of the fear gas and he's dangerous. If anyone can make an anti-fear drug, it would be Crane. And you just can't believe Jason would be desperate enough to go to him but you have to know for sure.

Inside the room, you see he does in fact have his own lab. Dick wasn't lying. He really was here, behind your back, making this drug. You're so mad at him. How does he resort to this? How? Because of Robin? He never should have thought Robin was all he'd ever be good at. Jason believed Robin gave him magic. It starts and ends with Robin and Bruce. That's what this always boils down to and you're so angry at Jason and Bruce for it.

Your heart breaks the further you walks into the room, checking out the table where he still has everything laid out. And you still can't believe it. But, you need to know. If you're wrong, you can deal with that on your own. Jason is your responsibility. But, if you're right...you don't think you can keep that to yourself. You don't think you can handle that, not alone. It's going to be more than just getting Jason clean to get him back home. You aren't sure you can do it on your own. You know it's bad science but there's only one way to know for sure without bringing anyone else into this. Jason won't tell you anyway so you lay the formula on the table and get to work.

Jason did the hard part. And he didn't cover his tracks which you can't figure out why he wouldn't. If it was so dyer no one knows what's going on, why would he leave everything out? Why would he even leave the formula out with a clue? Unless that was the point. Jason likes to play games. It's what he does. Maybe that was the point. He coded the formula, leaving it out on purpose just to fuck with Dick and Bruce. You're surprised Dick didn't figure it out but again, maybe that's because even Dick wouldn't think Jason is crazy and desperate enough to go to fucking Scarecrow.

You finish the drug within an hour, the orange liquid loaded into an inhaler Jason left behind. You hold it up and debate it. Taking an unknown drug is a terrible idea. Taking any drug is a bad idea. And this could be a setup. Jason could have left it on purpose, knowing someone would figure it out and maybe take it to see. But you find that to be a long shot because what insane person finds a formula to make a drug and then takes it? Dick wouldn't do that and if this is about Dick, given Jason just tried to kill him, Jason would know Dick wouldn't just take a dug.

You know Jason better than anyone and Jason knows you. You put yourself in Jason's shoes, deciding maybe he'd know you'd figure it out eventually and do something completely idiotic like follow his footsteps which means this wouldn't be a setup. You settle on that logic and put the inhaler to your mouth before pressing the canister down and inhaling at the same time.

Your pupils dilate, your iris turning a bright shade of yellow-orange. And it all melts away.

The guilt you feel with not pestering Jason, him dying, not following him. Everything starts to fade away. The sadness of it all is there but it's more like a distant echo in a deep underground cave. There, but just barely. The guilt feels more like walking through fog instead of barbed wire ripping your throat to shreds. And, for the first time since you left Gotham, you aren't paranoid. You don't feel paranoid or scared. It's all completely gone. Every ounce of it. There's still this small sense of worry but the sadness, it's more of an echo.

The sadness, guilt, paranoia, and worry are caged deep inside the darkest parts of your mind. Screaming and howling to be let free again but the drug stands guard, laughing over their desperate cries. A sinister cackle echoing over everything else, clouding them so they can't break through. And for the first time, you get how Jason got here.

This is nice. You don't feel like you're weighted down anymore. In a way, it actually feels freeing. To not be scared and paranoid and consumed with worry and guilt. It's actually really fucking nice to not feel so damn heavy. But, that feeling of being free doesn't last long before it starts to fade into red-hot anger.

You think about how Jason lied to you, went behind your back. You were supposed to be a team and he left you. He left you to go after the Joker, he died, he made this dug, he became Red Hood without ever having a conversation with you. Jason just tried to kill Dick. He doesn't loop you in anymore. He made this drug that is so damn freeing and he never bothered to offer it to you. He never offered you a cure. He gets to be cured of all of his fear and paranoia while you're left here to suffer. And that pisses you off.

You're just furious with him so you get up and make your way to the Gotham City Gym thinking maybe that's his hideout. That's where you met up two days ago, it has to mean something and you do not care at all what's going to happen. You don't have the fear of consequences anymore. You aren't scared what's going to happen because you showed up there looking for him. It'll be fine, you assure yourself. It'll be the two of you, and Crane will never have to know and if he does, that's fine. You will go after him yourself because even though you're mad at Jason as you make your way on the bike, you still care about him. The love you have for him is still there, wrapping your bones like barbed wire, desperately clinging onto the old parts of you that aren't affected by the drug.

You don't want anything to happen to him. But you're mad. And the drug is letting anger win. So, you get to the old gym and walk right inside.

You find Jason in a room leaning over a chair and all you see is red, missing what he's working on. All you care about is getting answers and letting him know you're pissed and he's not just getting off the hook this time because you love him. This is fucked.

"What the fuck!?" You scream as you shove Jason away from the chair.

Jason turns to face you quickly. "What—" Jason eyes you with confusion, dropping the scalpel on the floor. "What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Crane!?" You yell as you throw your arm out to the side. "You're working with Jonathan fucking Crane?!"

Jason takes a step back and he's never seen you like this before. Your nostrils flare and your jaw squares. Your pupils are blown and you look ready to kill him.

Oh no.

You figured it out. You took the drug. You figured out the formula. You took it. Why the fuck would you do that?

"How the fuck do you know that?" Jason seethes and he still has the drug pumping in his veins, too. What would normally be fear is clouded with anger.

"I figured it out! I told you I would! And I'm fucking offended you thought I wouldn't! You went to fucking Crane for an anti-fear drug!? Are you insane?!"

"Fuck you!" Jason screams back. "Did you fucking take it!?"

That was not part of the plan. Jason didn't want you involved and that included you taking a drug. It makes him a hypocrite and he knows that but he doesn't care. This is his problem, not yours. This was his decision and he didn't want this for you. If he did, he would have just told you.

"Yeah! And I gotta fucking say, it is nice not dealing with fear and paranoia and shit so fuck you for not telling me and giving it to me!" Your fists ball at your sides, Jason getting a glimpse of your knuckles changing color under the pressure.

"That's a load of shit! You're just saying that cause you're fucking high!" Jason yells back, the drug isn't as fresh for him as it is for you. He's thinking a little clearer than you are.

"Look who's fucking—" You pause, finally looking at the chair and seeing a passed out Hank shirtless with an open cut on his chest and a device lodged halfway into the cut. You shake your head looking back to Jason. "What the hell did I just walk in on?" Your voice comes back down.

"How did you figure it out?" Jason spits back, ignoring your question. He really doesn't want you involved with this one.

"Your erratic behavior before you died. The formula had a code. And you like to play games." You quip back and you see the hint of smirk come to his lips. "Exactly."

"You hate codes. How'd you figure it out?" His voice is a toxic mix of amusement and threatening.

"I'm resourceful. Don't worry, I didn't fucking tell anyone." You spit back. "Hank?" You gesture again as you blink at him.

He doesn't believe you. You're good at a lot of things but cracking puzzles and codes is not one of those things. It's why Jason was careful so that way if you found out, you wouldn't get anywhere. He knows you went to someone for help. You swore you don't lie to him but now you are. The line is being drawn in the sand and Jason decides he might as well throw you the bone. He wants to see exactly where your loyalty actually lies because the drug thinks that's going to be fun. It pumps him with everything Crane has filled his head with, tricking him into thinking it's true. And that includes you not being on his side.

"Putting a bomb in his chest. Wanna help?" Jason shrugs as a grin pulls at his lips as he picks the scalpel off the floor and goes back to Hank.

You watch him for a few seconds and you actually think about it. The drug clouds your judgment and lets you feel anger above everything else. You're pissed at Jason but you're still mad at Hank for earlier. Hanks wants to kill Jason and maybe that's what Hank came here to do. Maybe Hank was going to kill him. Jason is just taking it a step further because it's Jason. Nothing is ever so easy. But, a few seconds go by and you're still mad at Jason. You don't want Jason dead but you do want to piss him off because he pissed you off. An easy way to piss Jason off would be save Hank's dumbass from him.

"Fuck you." You bark, gaining Jason's attention and he thought you might actually take up the offer. He's not sure what he would have done if you did. "No, I'm not gonna help fucking kill him! Have you lost your damn mind? Who the hell are you?!" You scream again and you're starting to question if you're mad enough to kill someone you consider an ally. Hank is not your friend but would you take up the offer, right now, if you weren't so mad at Jason?

"I'm who I've always been!" Jason yells back. "What? Don't fucking like it?" Jason taunts you and he really hopes this will get you to leave.

If you're not going to be on his side, he wants you gone. You being around drives him insane because it's like two sides of him are at a war within him and they can't settle on where to sit or what to believe. They fight hard and fast, one side knowing you can be trusted and Jason loves you. He has to protect you at all costs. No matter what. But, the other side of him is high out of his mind and believes Crane really cares about him and wouldn't lie to him. Crane wouldn't just be using him and manipulating him. Crane is telling the truth and that includes you. Both sides are so torn and it drives Jason completely insane. This thing would be easier if you would just go the fuck away.

"You're not a murderer!"

"You're fucking a hypocrite! You're killing people! Crane was right about you." Jason sneers, closing the distance between you and you don't move even an inch as Jason looks down at you. "I'm fucking better and you hate it." It's like a game of tug of war in Jason's head and the Crane side is winning.

You grit your teeth as more anger starts to flood into your system. He told Crane about you? "Fuck you. Crane knows me? Really?" You huff up at him. "I liked you before."

"When I was fucking weak." Jason sneers. "You always just wanted to fix me. Well, I'm better and I'm not fucking scared. And you can't stand it." Jason lets out this horrid cackle.

You let out a loud groan as you look to the ceiling and even in your clouded state, you know Crane has to be using him. "He's fucking using you and manipulating you. He doesn't give a shit about you. We all do though." You mimic the laugh.

"Fuck you!" Jason huffs. "You don't know shit!" Jason doesn't want to fight with you but he can't help it. He should walk away and he knows he should but it's as if his feet are glued to the floor below him.

"Yeah, been there done that, right?" You look up to him. "He's using you. You just can't fucking see it." You shake your head. "He's a terrible, horrible, shit fucking excuse of a human and I can't believe you think he gives a fuck about you." You aren't sure if you're saying it to hurt him or if it's because it's true. You know there's no way Crane actually cares about him, there's no way not when Jason just made an anti-fear drug. There's more to that but you don't know if you're telling him because he needs to hear it or if you're just trying to hurt him.

The drug loves confrontation.

"You can't stand that I'm better! You hate that I don't need you anymore." Jason shakes his head, his nose scrunching in frustration. "I know what I'm doing and he cares about me unlike you and Dick and Bruce!" Jason screams and he doesn't mean it and he says it anyway. Maybe Crane is right. What if he is right? "We were a fucking mistake! You used me and tried to make yourself feel better by being with me!"

You pause and...that hurt. That still hurt. But instead of heartbreak, it fuels your anger. With the drug, your heartbreak gets confused with anger and all you want to do is hurt him back.

"We were a mistake?" You ask through gritted teeth.

The anti-fear drug doesn't just wipe away fear, it turns perfectly good people into hollowed and cruel skeletons of who they used to be. They're puppets under Crane's control once he says one sentence. Jason being desperate and feeling abandoned led him to Crane but the drug keeps him believing Crane. The drug keeps him in line. And you're having a similar side effect because normally, you'd never even think about hurting Jason but that's all you want because he hurt you. The drug turns perfectly good and decent people, into evil and malicious and calloused versions that are unrecognizable to everyone else.

Jason shrugs his shoulders. "Weren't we?" Jason questions and he doesn't mean it. But the panic and pain and fear is replaced with anger so he fires. "I'm worse, right? Nothing got better with you. I fucking died on your watch." Jason scoffs.

"I didn't get you killed, fuck you." You scoff.

"That all you got? Did I hurt your little feelings?" A grin pulls at Jason's lips and the voice echoing in the back of his head lets out a loud cry and it cracks the sturdy glass the drug creates. He knows he'll regret this. He doesn't mean it. He swears he doesn't mean it.

"I don't even know you right now and I don't think I want to." You shake your head and even when you know you should hold back, you don't. The words come out in a hasty rage before you can even process them because they'll hurt him. "This why Rose lied to you? Maybe it was to protect herself from you, right? Get close and you lose your shit and hit below the belt."

"Fuck you! Yeah? What about Gar? You say I don't tell you shit, well now you know how he felt. How do you think Molly feels right now?" Jason snaps right back.

"Gar is my friend and he's waiting back at the manor for me." You shrug your shoulders as you look Jason up and down. "Where's Rose?" You quip back. You don't mean it. You don't mean any of it. You don't even know why you're thinking it. It's not true. This was a bad idea. The drug was a bad idea.

He knows. He knows deep down you don't mean it because he doesn't either. He'd never say any of this to you and he doesn't even think any of it. But Crane is in his head and he makes so many good points, and you're making him so fucking mad. And if it weren't for the drug, he knows, he'd be terrified of what's going to happen when Crane finds out you know. What Crane is going to ask him to do. He'd be scared for your life. And your well-being. He loves you but he can't see through the anger and the numbness. He can't see through it. But, there's still that pecking for you right in the back of his head, right in the stitched letters of your name on his heart. Not you.

"Leave or let me do this. Two fucking choices." Jason sucks in a breath before he turns around and heads back towards Hank.

"You're not killing him." You move towards Jason and yank him back by his hood, just enough to stop him.

Jason stumbles back, eyes locked and angered on you. "You gonna stop me?" Jason scowls, holding a scalpel in one hand.

You won't let him kill Hank. The drug says it'll be fun and then Hank will be out of your hair. You won't have to defend Jason against him anymore and he won't be annoying. He'll be dead. That'll be the end of it. Hank won't be a bother to anyone anymore but stopping Jason will piss him off and something about that seems a little bit more fun. But, there is a small pecking at the back of your head. Jason yanking you off of Jerry because you shouldn't have blood on your hands. The memory flashes like a flashbang against everything you should be thinking while high and you swear you won't let him. It's time to repay the favor, high or not.

Jason's formula was always a little off. The drug Jason is taking now is upgraded, it's better because Crane manufactured this with Jason's help getting the supplies. Your version is a little off.

"Only if you make me have to." You shake your head, blocking Hank from Jason.

Jason hesitates. If you were anyone else, you wouldn't have gotten this far into an argument and he's pretty sure you know that. And he also knows that with the drug, even his version of it, you won't back down.

"Hank has always treated me like shit. You don't fucking get it." Jason shakes his head.

"And killing him is gonna make it all better?" You quip back. "Cause that's shit. He's a fucking ass to me, too but I'm not trying to kill him."

"Because you were always a coward." Jason's voice lacks the venom this time as if he knows what he's saying isn't true and it's not right.

"Maybe." You shrug. "But at least I'm not someone killing an innocent person." You scoff. "So, what does that make you?" You ask and even in this state, you just want him to be the Jason before he died. It's all you want.

Jason shakes his head. "I'm not scared anymore." His voice is level this time and honest. The venom has evaporated and even in this state, your heart breaks. How did he fucking get here?

"Is it worth it? Losing your friends? Dick, Bruce, Gar?" You pause for a second. "Me?"

Jason shakes his head and you'll never get it. "You don't get it." He can't let you get in his head and that's what you're doing. Jason shuts his eyes for just a second before he shakes his head, snapping himself out of it. "Now move and go the fuck home."

You nod your head and Jason is the one drawing the line, not you. You have given him every chance and opportunity to give you a reason to side with him and he will not do it. He only gives you reasons to be against him and you hate it, even in this state.

"No." You shake your head and cross your arms. "You're gonna have to fucking fight me, Jay."

Jason moves forward, looking down at you and for a second, you think he'll let it go. But, instead, he shoves you to the side. Not hard, but enough to get you out of the way. Jason swears he's not going to be the one to fight you first. It is his one fucking line he has been able to not cross and he swears he can't do that. Not you.

You fire back, shoving him harder and further away from Hank.

"All you got, babe? Thought I taught you better than that." Jason taunts.

"Yeah, well, I learned from Dick, too and I'm not throwing the first punch." You stand toe-to-toe with Jason. "You'll have to do that, Red Hood."

"Out the fucking way." Jason shoves you again, this time a little harder than before.

"You get the fuck out of the way." You shove him harder, this time Jason falling to the ground.

He looks up at you with so much anger, it nearly breaks you. He's never looked at you like that before. And maybe if he weren't high, he'd find it impressive and endearing. But he is high and he doesn't give a fuck. He swings his leg, tripping you and you fall to the floor.

Jason is back on his feet before you, quickly moving to Hank and trying to get the bomb readjusted. You move closer to him, kicking Jason in the back of the knees and sending him to the floor which gives you enough time to get to your feet.

"Wake the fuck up, Hank!" You shake him quickly, trying to wake him up but Jason trips you again, this time taking one kick to the back of the knee and then the front.

You look at Jason as he's still on the ground. You're not going to get anywhere if all you two do is keep tripping each other. And the drug loves a good fight.

"Okay, fine. Do you really wanna do this? You really wanna fight me?" You question.

"You're the one that wants to fight." Jason huffs.

The part with the drug would love to fight you. He knows he will win but you'll put up a good fight and it'll be fun. But, the better part of him, the part that always wins when it comes to you, wants to kick his heart through his ribs and onto the cement floor. He can't fight you. He can't do it. Not you. Anyone but you.

"You're the one trying to kill someone." You quip.

"You're not gonna fucking stop me."

"I have to fucking try!" Your voice finally cracks as you yell.

"Good luck." Jason barks as he gets to his feet.

You don't really want to fight him either. Like Jason, you have that part of you that still doesn't want to cross that line, no matter what. But, Jason can't come back from killing one of your own. The Titans will never forgive that, regardless of his reason. It doesn't matter if this isn't really him. They won't forgive him because it's Jason. You don't want that for him. If your options are to fight him or let him kill Hank, you really only have one choice.

And the drug is thrilled about it.

You get to your feet, keeping a few feet between you. "If you go down for five seconds, this is it. Got it?" You offer him.

Jason lets out a cackle. "Fuck no."

"You're a better fighter, right? What the fuck are you so scared for?" You say it on purpose, knowing it'll get him to fight.

Jason eyes you for a few seconds, knowing he can't possibly say no now. The drug is winning over the logical side of him and he has to agree. But, he also knows he'll still pull his punches. Maybe you can go a few rounds and you'll get tired. Jason remembers how it feels when his version of the drug wears off and how long it usually lasts. He's not sure when you took it but he's hoping maybe a few rounds and it'll wear off a little, make you too tired to continue then neither of you have to fight your hardest. He doesn't want to and he's betting you don't either.

"Fine. Five seconds. You, too. You go down and I can finish what I started without you getting in the fucking way." Jason nods his head. "No weapons and no acid."

"Deal." You nod your head as you lift up your hoodie and unbuckle the belt with all of your knives, dropping it on the floor.

Jason pulls both guns from his holsters, walking over and putting them on a table. Then he starts pulling his own knives out of his pockets and boots, resting them with the guns before he walks back over. Jason stands three feet in front of you who's eyes haven't left him.

"Two outta three?" Jason questions and all he can hear is his heart in his ears.

"Fine." You agree, sucking in a breath. "You and me."

Jason's jaw locks. "You and me."

You and Jason stand a few feet away from each other. The two of you take a few seconds, almost contemplating if this is a good idea. This was a line Jason swore, no matter what, he'd never cross. It's you. He doesn't want to fight you but he has to do this. He doesn't have a choice. That's the thing about the anti-fear drug. He's easy to manipulate when it comes to Crane and he doesn't feel anything. Not just fear. So, he takes the first step forward and goes to trip you again but you dodge him, taking the first official swing to his face.

The two of you fight a little harder against each other than you normally do. You know you'll lose. You always did. It doesn't matter. He's better, he's faster. And the clairvoyance has a loophole. Apparently, a lot of it is rooted in fear factor, adrenaline and the anti-fear drug diminishes that. Fighting Jason without the clairvoyance is more difficult. You can't tell where the next hit is coming from and you have to be completely on defence. Maybe you should have trained a little more with Dick after all. But, you try and strike as hard and as fast as you can. You put up a good fight.

Jason is pulling his punches. You aren't in the suit. You have nothing to protect you and even though he should care more, he is not careless. He doesn't want to hurt you so he pulls his punches, despite knowing you'll never forgive him for it. And the more he pulls his punches, the better chance you stand on tiring yourself out by the time the drug starts to wear off. Jason is just buying time so he can finish Hank because he needs to. It's part of the plan. Crane said it has to happen and he has to listen. So, he keeps fighting until you go down twice, coughing and gasping.

Jason counts but it's slower than usual as you try to use your remaining energy against him to no avail. The drug might tell him this is fun and thrilling, it'll be worth it in the end. But, the real Jason hates every single second of this. It never should have been like this and if he weren't high, he would have walked away. If you weren't high, you probably would have, too. But, now you're both here bloody and bruised fighting over fucking Hank Hall.

"Five." Jason heaves from above you. His jaw is squared and he hates himself for it. "We had a deal." Jason takes in a full breath, watching your expression soften and fall, your pupils returning to normal.

You look up at him, blood pooling in your mouth and leaking from a gash on your head. Jason has blood splitting his lip and drips dropping from his nose. But, he's foggy and distant. You tried. You tried your absolute hardest and your eyes are heavy while your limps feel like the blood has been replaced with cement.

You sit up, your head spinning slightly but not the way it usually does with a concussion, this is different. You rest your hands on the floor, scooting back until your back hits the wall and you lean your head back, closing your eyes.

You're so tired. You're exhausted and all you want to do is sleep. But, the fear starts to creep back into your system. The numbness you felt is being washed away like a sandcastle on a beach while the tide comes in. And everything starts to hurt.

Everything you just said to Jason, everything he said it you. It all hurts and then fear comes in and now you're terrified you messed everything up. What happens if Crane finds out you know? Is Crane going to think Jason did it? Is he going to find a replacement? What if he wants you dead and asks Jason to do it? Where does that leave him? 

Jason glances over to you as he gets the bomb readjusted. The gash doesn't seem deep, there isn't too much blood and the blood from your mouth is from a small cut on your lip. It's nothing worse than what either of you got from sparring with each other and Gar and Rachel. But, Jason watches you for a few more seconds, just being sure. 

"You okay?" Jason finds it himself to ask as he places the bomb in position.

"Tired." Your voice cracks and you think about what the Titans are going to say when Hank dies.

This is your fault. You weren't fast enough and you weren't good enough. Hank is going to die because Jason was manipulated and used and put a bomb in his chest. And you were too weak to stop him. Even while high, you still pulled your punches because it's him. They're never going to forgive either of you.

"It's wearing off, isn't it?" Jason asks, his voice stern as he places the bomb in Hank's chest, following the blueprints.

"Yeah..." Your voice is so small, making Jason look back over at you. He's definitely burning that lab down.

You wonder if this is normal. If it is, how did you miss it? You wonder how much Jason actually used it for you to have not noticed. Maybe he only used it a few times and only when he was out. The drug definitely didn't last very long. You just wish you would have noticed something was wrong.

"You'll feel better in a bit." Jason states as he closes the skin around the bomb. 

You fall silent, keeping your eyes closed. This can't be what a normal comedown feels like. You're somehow both so exhausted you could sleep for a week and you're terrified. Every piece of fear you had before is amplified and you're stuck between wanting to sleep and wanting to run away from everything. If you thought you could get up, you'd run out of Gotham and away from this mess. But, your head is spinning and your arms and legs hurt while your chest feels like it's going to collapse on itself.

Jason calls your name, glancing over to you again.

He knows what happens with his version. There's a comedown and it's rough. Every fear and mistake and regret floods back in a tidal wave, taking over all of the relief the drug provided all while making it impossible to stay awake. It doesn't last long, twenty minutes but Jason swears it's always long enough to keep him going back to the drug to not feel that way again. The new version has a similar effect but instead of a crash, it's slower like a stranger in the night following him and waiting for the perfect moment. With every step, he grows more uneasy and home seems further away. But, you didn't take the new version, so he keeps glancing at you just to make sure you're okay.

Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea.

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[draco-dormiens]

THE STRANGEST OF PLACES - Chapter Eleven

draco x fem!ravenclaw reader / postwar au series

a/n: thank you SO much for 100 followers ♡ i'm seriously so grateful for the support (✿◠‿◠) & i'm sorry this is so late >_<

warnings: strong language

wc: 1775

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Chapter Eleven: Another Motherly Visit

The rest of the week passed by, and the weekend soon arrived. It was strange when his face didn't curl into a smile the moment that he spotted you. Classes dragged on forever, just for him to leave as soon as the bell rang. Lunch and dinner became a waiting game, at every turn of his head your heart dropped, but his eyes never fell on you. His words went round and round in your head, trying to pick apart what he was trying and failing to say.

I wanted you to tell me not to go, to say you didn't want me to see her.

That's what Draco had said, in such a burst of anger before leaving you crestfallen by the Ravenclaw tower. You would have never told him not to go, because it wasn't your place to ask that of him, and your relationship was still friends with the odd bit of intimacy thrown in. If he was trying to tell you the feeling was mutual, then you only wished he had finished his sentence. Saturday rolled by and so did the clouds in the sky, big, grey swirls threatening the upcoming Quidditch practice, and as the rain began to spit, Draco made his way across the damp grounds to accept the Slytherin teams offer. With his hood over his head, he entered the pitch to see the team already well into their practice time. One of the beaters noticed him and gestured to the captain that someone had arrived. The boy beamed at him, racing down on his broom, and jumping off at the last second.

"Malfoy," he panted, still grinning like a Cheshire cat, "what can I do for you?"

"I came to accept your offer," Draco says, "I'll join you as the new seeker."

"Seriously?" the boy laughs in disbelief, "that's the best news I've heard all week. Thank Merlin, thank you, Malfoy."

The boy out stretches his hand, and Draco takes it in a firm handshake.

"I didn't get your name before," Draco asks, and the boy wipes the sweat off his forehead with the back of his gloved hand.

"It's Marcel," he says, "Marcel Clifton."

"Marcel," Draco nods, "you can call me Draco, by the way."

Marcels smile only gets wider, thanking him another three times before leaving to re-join the team.

"Our first match is next Saturday," Marcel shouts, running backwards towards the pitch, "join us for practice on Monday."

Then he was off, soaring back up to his fellow teammates. They offer warm smiles and waves as Draco leaves, trudging back up to the castle in a now very damp hoodie. The weather was much like him, grey and miserable. Since he'd snapped at you earlier in the week, he hadn't said another word to you. Each time your eyes caught his, he could see the desperation in them, pleading with him to give in, and if he stared too long, he almost did. He didn't know what he was thinking, blurting out his feelings like that to you. Even if someone as perfect as you had accepted his complications, he knew it couldn't happen. His mother would get word, and then he'd be on trial for having romantic feelings towards a half-blood. He couldn't put you through that.

He winds his way back through the castle, ready to spend the weekend alone in his room, maybe even get around to writing his mother back. Her letter with questions about his date had been sitting on his desk for the last week. He was surprised she hadn't written another. Just by the Gryffindor tower, he takes the stairs leading to the grand staircase, when you come whizzing around the corner to come to a holt right before him.

"Draco," you said in astonishment, clutching a book to your chest. He lowers his hood and moves the damp hair from his face to see you better.

"Hey," he says quietly. For a moment you just stare at one another, no one making a move to carry on with their day, until you snap out of it first.

"I uh, sorry, I need to get to Hermione. She's waiting for me."

"Right, yeah," he moves aside to let you by, desperately wanting to say something, anything to keep you there a little longer. He hadn't realised how much he'd missed your voice.

"I accepted the offer," he calls, "to be the new seeker."

Your footsteps stop. It falls silent.

"Good," you then say, and his heart feels a little lighter hearing you again, "I'm glad."

"I start practice on Monday."

Your backs are still facing one another. He waits for your response with immense anticipation. The sound of your shoes against the marbled floor lets him know you don't wish to make idle chit chat. Each step only makes his heart sink lower.

"You'll do great," you shouted down the corridor, and he chances a look. You're wearing that outfit he likes, the little pinafore. He wants to follow you, take your hand, hold you against him, and finish what he was trying to say a few days ago.

I want you to want me.

The Monday sun rose and with it came another bucketload of rain. Hammering against the windows and soaking the grounds through, it rained and rained, the sky outside a constant black. At breakfast, Draco was joined by the Slytherin team, who handed over a freshly pressed Quidditch uniform. Draco still had his old broom stored in the wardrobe, and for the first time since his fifth year he took it out. It was dusty, perhaps seen better days, but it felt good to hold it again. To his amazement, no one had said a word of disapproval to him yet, even after the team had made it blatantly obvious. Other students just got on with their breakfast, Astoria giving him a smile and a thumbs up from the other end of the table.

He was nervous. Draco hadn't ridden a broom properly in a couple of years, and his skills as a seeker were just as rusty. He was hoping to redeem himself, do something positive during his last year at Hogwarts. In his last lesson, you even spared a small smile, and he took it as a good luck charm. Something that pretty was surely a good sign. He pulled the Slytherin Quidditch team jumper over his head, the smell of a newly woven garment hits him, the fabric soft and clean. Draco looks in the mirror at his reflection. He hadn't worn something like this in a long, long time. It felt nice. The rain outside was still relentless, but Marcel was determined to have Draco play alongside them. "No matter the weather," Marcel said. He follows the team out onto the pitch, a few steps behind them, walking right into the rain. Within moments, the others had flown to the highest point of the pitch, leaving Draco down below. Marcel waves his arm, beckoning Draco to join them, when he spots someone sitting in the bare stands. There were a few people, but this one person caught his attention immediately, perched under an umbrella, waving at him.

It was you.

In the pouring rain, on a Monday night, sitting amongst other Slytherins, was you. He could tell you were smiling, wrapped up in your layers. He couldn't explain it, but in that moment, he had never felt so whole in his entire life. Despite your argument, you were here, supporting him. A sudden wave of bravery comes over him, and he has the courage to join the others. In the rain, getting soaked to his core and muddy beyond belief, something awakens inside him, and suddenly the world doesn't seem so big anymore. His past choices don't feel so burdening, and he's laughing, really laughing, and he feels alive. He can feel the rain on his skin, the mud between his fingers, and he's alive. It's like he hasn't been living. Just surviving. Just getting to the next day without making another mistake, and then there's you, standing in the entryway when it's all over. Wet despite the umbrella, beaming at him, and his heart feels like it might give out from the sight of you. He drops the broom, and sprints towards you, as you follow suit, meeting him in the middle to fling your arms around his neck. He lifts you off the floor, and spins you not once, twice, but three times, and you're shrieking, laughing, holding onto him in the blistering rain. It didn't matter that the others could see. Draco slows eventually, steadying as he plants you back on the ground. He doesn't let go, even when the rain lets up a little, he's still holding you. The others had long exited the pitch by now.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbles to you, both of you in a sodden embrace, "please forgive me."

"I'm sorry too," you tell him, nuzzling against the side of his head, "I just want us back to normal."

He squeezes you tightly.

"Please," he pleads softly, "I've missed you so much."

You pull back to look at him, smiling at how handsome he is despite the mud and sopping wet hair.

"I've missed you too," you say, taking his face in your cold hands, "and I'm so proud of you, Draco. So, so proud."

If you're not mistaken, his eyes start to gloss over. The rain has stopped, and it's just the two of you standing on the pitch. A small slither of sun begins to shine through the clouds, and you gently stroke back the hair from his beautiful face.

"Thank you," he tells you with the utmost seriousness, "for everything. Thank you."

Now your eyes were glossy, threatening to spill over the edges, and you lean up to press a kiss to his muddy cheek, lingering for a long moment.

"It's my absolute pleasure," you whisper, his eyes meeting yours once more. They flicker down to your lips, and your heart starts racing. He nudges his nose against yours, eyes closing simultaneously. His hand cups your cheek, the other holding your hip, and you think he's going to do it, he's actually going to kiss you. His lips brush yours, and momentarily the world stops. So close, your lips are almost closing against each other when a shout pulls you apart instantly.

"Draco," Astoria's voice is like something from a nightmare at this moment, "you need to get cleaned up. Someone is here to see you."

"Shit," he spits under his breath, but then his volume changes tenfold, "tell them I'm fucking busy."

"I can't," she shakes her head, "it's your mother."

And just like that, your moment was ripped from you, and a true, pure panic flickers in Draco's eyes.

disclaimer: i do not own hp or any of the characters in this story

dividers from: @firefly-graphics & @happy-ash-edits

#draco malfoy #draco x you #draco x female reader #draco x ravenclaw!reader #draco x y/n #draco x reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco lucius malfoy #draco imagine #draco fanfiction #hp #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter

[ellethespaceunicorn]

2023 Character Wrapped

@geralts-yenn and @raccoon-eyed-rebel tagged me to talk about my favorite characters. And well, this is just too good not to pass up. So, join me, won't you?

Let's rank my favorite characters! (Based on # of times I have written them).

Under the cut to keep my ramblings off your dashboard...but you just know there are bunch of Henry Cavill-shaped bitches under this cut.

But, in what order??

Alright, let's get this party started with...

Walter Marshall - Night Hunter

I feel like this is absolutely no surprise that I've written the most for this grumpy bear. But, I just call him Daddy. Whether he be touch-starved, an enemy turned lover, falling in love like a love-sick puppy, taking a little "me time" for himself, or being the goodest boy as werewolf Wolfie. Even wrote a headcanon about his hobbies.

2. Clark Kent - Man of Steel, BvS, Justice League

I have loved the character of Clark Kent since I was a little thing, I'm obsessed with curly-haired nerds. Clark also is the only character I have written "fluff" for, be it praising what you think are flaws or surprising you for your birthday. I have written him as a Sub and as a Dom (in my only work that has surpassed 1k notes).

3. August Walker - Mission: Impossible - Fallout

I've never written August as the good guy, and there is a reason for that. In my head, he's the life-ruiner. He can be sweet (to you), but odds are he just killed a guy because the guy looked at you for longer than a second. I've written August as a pissed-off Dom who was sick of being interrupted, a very bad Daddy, and an Uncle who takes advantage of his nephew's girlfriend here(original) and here(director's cut).

4. Captain Syverson - Sand Castle

Oh, Syverson. My baby don't even got a dayum first name and he's popular. I've written him confronting a lover during a post-apocalyptic pregnancy realization, and as a married father-to be getting his beard trimmed and talking to his unborn daughter. He's also featured in my Werewolf!Walter Marshall story, and that's all I'll say about that. (Also, I've been referring to him as James Syverson in every iteration of the character that I have written for - I think.)

5. Mike - Hellraiser: Hellworld

My sweet baby boy. He is a guilty pleasure. I gave him a full series where he finds love and has quite the cast of characters as his family. But, technically, I only wrote the series because of what happened here and here, when his naughty Uncle slept with his girlfriend.

6. Napoleon Solo - The Man from U.N.C.L.E.

He's just so fucking sexy. I love him, your honor. He's been a suave and sexy older man wooing a young student over a good meal, and also started a series where he was falling hard for a woman in his apartment building (still in the early stages and I promise @deandoesthingstome that I will get back to this series).

7. Sherlock Holmes - Enola Holmes series

I have also loved Sherlock Holmes since I was a little kid. I thought he was the coolest person ever, but he's a curly-haired nerd so of course I loved him. I love when Sherlock is in love, whether he is ignoring his bratty wife until he takes matters into his own hands, or if he is having trouble coming to terms with new love.

8. Charles Brandon - The Tudors

This little shit. This redeeemable, sexy, fucking slut. I love him. I've only written him once, and it was a request! But, I enjoyed it. I loved writing him getting teased sexually and then taking control of the situation. So hot.

9. Humphrey - Stardust

Ok, not actually a fan of Humphrey, I've just written him. And that was all thanks to @sillyrabbit81's milestone celebration at the beginning of this year. This fic is kind of a weird egg, just, go with me though. The plot is: you and Humphrey are step-siblings who end up getting a little...involved. I'm not sorry for the title of this fic.

And to our last entry, the only non-HC character...

10. Lloyd Hansen - The Gray Man

What can I say? If I had the means, and I guess I really do but whatever, I would rank this man at #2 above Clark Kent. Because Lloyd-excuse me...Sir is one of my all-time favorites. I've included him inside larger stories as a bit player, see Bright Like the Moon (where he plays a bad man later in the series). But, I also wanted him to have his own show where he was the star, so I had him stalk and kidnap a girl and tie her up in the basement and call her Sunshine. I also wrote a little headcanon about his family, quirks, hobbies and his sleeping habits.

TL;DR: Walter Marshall is Daddy, Lloyd Hansen is Sir. And I need to finish one series before starting another. Maybe I will work on that. *snort*

I have written for a lot of characters, and I'm not gonna stop. I really wanna write so much more and my WIP folder is literally overflowing with things. I just started a new fic like the day I posted the most recent chapter of THiCC. What am I doing??

No pressure tags: @cardierreh15 @milknhonies @halfofmysoulsblog @xblackreader @xsapphirescrollsx

#2023 character wrapped #walter marshall #clark kent #henry cavill #henry cavill characters #august walker #captain syverson #syverson #cpt syverson #hellraiser mike #mike hellraiser #napoleon solo #hc sherlock #sherlock holmes #charles brandon #duke of suffolk #humphrey stardust #lloyd hansen #tag game #tag games