#*flashback to when i had a job and they didn’t even train me and then my boss gave me a warning because i wasn’t doing my job correctly*

[v0idwraith]

Lena getting mad at Gwen for breaking a rule that she never even told her about is quite possibly the most realistic thing that’s happened in The Magnus Protocol

[writing-fanics]

More Than Anything

Lucifer Morningstar x F!Reader

[summary: final battle lives lost but the show must go on!]

Masterlist > chapter I > chapter ii > chapter iii > chapter iv

[a/n: since it’s technically been a month Lucifer and Y/n’s relationship has blossomed but not into a romantic one just yet. Just maybe the occasional flirting but I will have flashbacks to moments to have it not feel rushed.]

[also y/n likes making cursed animal combinations like a dolphin with wings.. being in hell for a month has brought her out of her shell so much she’s much happier. also the reader is whatever height you are, but to me she's slightly taller than Lucifer. sorry if this seems rushed.. its alot of work y/n trained with vaggie in weapon combat. she also kinda had help from lucifer. if ya'll want I'll write another side chapter about what lucifer and her did in combat..]

word count: 3,789 {6-7 pages)

[warning: major spoilers for episode 7-8: mentions of sex: slight smut in the end (full poorly written smut in side chapter): death spoilers:

song

[Y/n] helped prepare the hotel while Charlie and Vaggie were out, she still couldn't help but think that if it all were to end tomorrow. Should she confess her feelings to Lucifer. She tried but failed weeks ago, and now with extermination day being 24 hours away. But even then would it even matter, if she did? If they were going to die what's the point? But then..

"Ugh, why do feelings have to be so complicated?!" She groaned to herself, as she helped fortify the hotel. In her own thoughts. Yet, she remembered how awkward Lucifer was acting this morning when they were eating breakfast. It could've been because of extermination day in the next 24 hours or maybe something else?

"A-Are you okay?" She asked worriedly, at Lucifer. Who scoffed in response and smiled nervously, "Y-Yeah, I'm alright fine perfectly fine." He sweats, as he looked at her nervously.

He watched as she left the manor to go help his daughter and the hotel prepare, and cursed to himself.. God, he was absolutely infatuated with her and couldn't even confess his feelings, for her. What if she dies? No don't think that he couldn't even bare the thought of losing her again.

He reached into his pocket and revealed the rubber duck with butterfly wings, and started at it softly.

[ Flashback ]

[Y/n] bit down on her lower lip, as she tried to make her first rubber duck. Squinting her eyes as she tried, to attach some butterfly wings. She smiled, jumping out of her chair in her guest room and ran down the hallway. She bursts into the room,“Lu, I did it!” She exclaimed, holding the rubber duck in her hands. Flapping its wings occasionally lifting itself off the palm of her hand. Flapping its wings.

“Wow, you did an even better job than me.” He said, causing her to blush. But shaking her head, “Nah, yours are way better.” She said, smiling looking at him.

She looked down at the rubber duck nervously, the extermination was only a few days away and people were preparing for a bloodbath a massacre, an all out war.

“I-I..” She sighed and downcasted at the ground, before shaking her head and smiled. “I made caramel apple pancakes.” She said, smile and Lucifer’s eyes lit up.

“Why didn’t you just say so!” He exclaimed, before she knew it he was already out the door of his study. Towards the delicious caramel apple pancakes.

She smiled sadly, looking down at the rubber duck. Pressing the secret button on its wing. “I love you!” It said its robotic child like voice exclaimed, and she looked down sadly. “I feel butterflies in my stomach when I’m with you,” she clenched her fist, almost crushing the duck but stopped. Looking at it sadly, “I really am pathetic.” she sighed, she walked over towards the shelf.

That had a rubber duck with similar top hat, to that of Lucifer and hesitantly placed it beside it. On the shelf, before backing away and leaving going downstairs to eat breakfast with Lucifer.

- ——

Lucifer entered his study after [Y/n] had left, to help prepare for war being a recently fallen angel and all. He sat at his desk, he glanced over at the shelf. Noticing a new rubber duck, figuring she must’ve placed it there.

He admired it in awe, the translucent butterfly wings. He remembered how much she loves butterflies, he remembered when she joked about combining the two. A Duckerfly. A duck with wings. Even then she was absolutely adorable, her jokes always seemed to make him laugh.

He titled his head noticing a hidden button on its wings, pressing it curiously. “I’m a duck with wings!” The duck said, and he chuckled.

“Duckerfly!”

“I love you!”

He stopped for a moment, processing what the duck had just said. Pressing the button again, “I get butterflies when I’m with you,” His heart seemed to skip a beat, he pressed it again.. and again and again. Until it looped back to it saying, ‘I love you.’

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

[Y/n] smiled as she returned the hug, wrapping her arms around Charlie. “Thank you for everything,” thanked Charlie, looking up at the older woman smiling. "Ever since I was little," She said, looking up at her, "The stories, my dad used to tell me about you inspired me." and the older woman, looked at her and smiled her heart swelling with joy.

She chuckled softly, "When I was in heaven, I thought he'd forgotten about me." said [Y/n], her gaze soften as she reminisced of memories of the past. "Seems, it was quite the opposite who could've thought he'd tell stories of me to his own daughter." She said, smiling as she took Charlie by both hands.

She looked down at her, "You're like the child I've always wanted but never had," She said, the princess of hell couldn't help but chuckle, reminding her of the weird rivalry both her father and Alastor had.

"But, I'm not trying to replace your mother." She reiterated, "Not at all, I just want you to know. That I'm always here for you." She said, looking at her. Charlie pulled back from the hug, "I can see why my dad likes you so much," said Charlie, causing the woman in front of her cheeks to go red.

"Ah...Um.." She mumbled, but Charlie placed a hand on her shoulder and smiled, "It's okay, I think the two of you would be cute together." said Charlie, smiling. Even though she missed her mom Lilith, and that her dad might still possibly miss her. She couldn't help but notice even though on the small instances, her and her dad have spoke before all this.

She could see how happy he was having [Y/n] here, in Hell. She noticed the occasional flirting. Yes, it might sound weird but she loved seeing her dad happy more than anything. "U-Um, thank you." stammered [Y/n].

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

[Y/n]'s eyes widened as the force-shield shattered, but she snapped back as an exorcists attacked her and she could've sworn, she heard her shout traitor. She made quick use of her weapon, and ended the exorcists life by cutting off her head.

Patches of her clothes covered in yellow ichor, a tiny cut on her cheek she sustained when fighting an exorcists. But slowly, everything seemed to go downhill as the one who was supposed to take care of Adam. Alastor had suddenly disappeared leaving Charlie to fear the worst.

[Y/n]'s eyes widened in horror as Sir Pentious' airship was destroyed, right before everyone's eyes. "No!" Charlie wailed, as tears brimmed her eyes in shock. She'd barely gotten to know Sir Pentious, in the month she was in Hell.

But, he seemed like a good person who genuinely wanted to redeem himself. Who gave trust to his friends. and in the end made the ultimate sacrifice. Gripping the weapon tightly in her hands, she charged towards Adam.

Almost impaling him, but he dodged out of the way. "Why look who it is?" He said, looking down at her mockingly. She glared at him, "Why isn't it little miss traitor." He said, and she snarled gritting her teeth as she lunged towards him, but he laughed and dodge.

"Wow, you look even worse than you did in Heaven." He mocked, and she pursed her lips eyes filled with rage. As she dodged his attacks, "Says the arrogant bastard who let himself go after Eden," She spat, and he glared at her sending a beam that almost hit her.

But wasn't so lucky about the next one, causing her to groan in pain. "Wow, you really suck at this don't you." He laughed, god she wanted to rip out his fucking tongue. "Do you ever stop fucking talking?!" She shouted, angrily.

Adam dodged her attacks as she sent them his way. Swiftly flying out of the way angering her, as her eyes started glowing as she swings at him with the angelic weapon. She glared at him angrily, “All this for a dick you can’t suck!” shouted Adam, and she glared at him angrily. Gritting her teeth, “Ugh! Fuck you.” she spat. Missing him once again.

“You really are pathetic you know that?” He laughed. Before she could even react a yellow beam, struck her already bleeding side. Gold ichor dripping from the wound, her movement faltering, "S-Shut the fuck up!" She shouted angrily, but a blast sent her flying backwards. Causing her to crash into, the hotel knocking her unconscious.

“Y/n!” Charlie shouted, watching as she plummet to the ground. But she didn’t, and felt a pair of arms wrap around her holding her, she looked up and smiled. She quickly wrapped her arms around him, “Lu,” She whispered.

Then her eyes widened, “Please tell me you didn’t hear that.” She looked embarrassed, cheeks red. Lucifer cocked his head to the side,“Not all of it just the, a dick you can’t suck part.” He said, her cheeks bright red. How she wanted to curl up into a ball and hide in a cave.

She pursed her lips inward and groaned, “I would kiss you now-” Her cheeks turned red, as a tomato as he said that. Even more so as he looked down at her with a mischievous grin, “But, we can do that later.” He said, a grin on his face then turning to are at Adam.

Glaring at him as well as she pulled away from Lucifer, “I’ll take you up on that offer, but first.” She clicked her tongue, gripping her weapon as she glared at Adam.

Seething her teeth, as she gripped the weapon tightly. “Let’s get this fucker.” She spat, with swift speed flying off towards the angel.

Lucifer smiled watching as she flew off, “That’s my girl,” He smiled, as the two of them flew off towards Adam. Following after her, the look of anger on his face seeing his daughter in danger.

Lucifer cackled as he looks down at Adam, dodging his attacks."So, this is what you've been up to since Eden?" said Lucifer, a he flew around him."Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy." He said, as he transformed into a snake. Adam grabbing him by the tail, and trying to throw him. But before he could Lucifer transforms into a duck. "You judgin' me? You're the most hated being in all of creations." Adam shouted, angrily at him.

"Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer." said Lucifer, using his fingers to make a 'V' shape bringing it to his lips. "or the second. Bow-chicka-wow-wow." said Lucifer, as he makes a thrusting motion in the air. Angering Adam, "I'll fucking end you!!" Adam shouted, as he chased after Lucifer.

[Y/n] flew up towards them, she laughed mischievously, as she transformed into different animals. Teasing him, “For someone who calls himself dick master, your own wives didn’t even want yours!” She laughed, grinning as you transformed into a dolphin with wings.

She slapped him using the tail across the face. Smiling mischievously, “Ugh! You bitch!” He shouted, angrily trying to grab her but she ducked. Flying away swiftly.

“The bully gets bullied,” She cackled, making faces at him before disappearing in a poof of yellow clouds. She giggled, as Lucifer took her by the hand. And the two of took pride in dancing to dodge, Adam’s attacks. “Oh, can’t catch us..” The two of them teased.

“That duck you left me,” He said, as the two of you disappeared from Adam, dodging his attacks. Her cheeks turned red as she looked at him, “I love you too,” He said, and her heart swelled with joy. Really was he saying this now?!

Adam gagged in disgust, “Stop moving you freaks!” Adam shouted, causing the king of hell to shake his head, “Hey, I’m trying to confess my love over here!” shouted Lucifer, causing her cheeks to turn even redder. Adam growing angrier, as he glared at them.

Adam groaned in anger, as he sent a beam of yellow ichor towards them. But Lucifer holding [Y/n] close protectively, as he swiftly pulled her out of the way. “Charlie!” She shouted worriedly, and swiftly as she said that Lucifer was off towards his daughter.

[ slight time skip ]

[Y/n] placed her hand on her bleeding side, as she stood up to her feet. Glaring at Adam as she stood beside everyone else, "You don't get to end this." Adam said, as he stood to his feet weakly. Climbing out of the hole, "I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man," He shouted, looking at the sinners and demons in front of him, "and you're just some fucking clown or something." He spat, glaring at them.

"I started everything on Earth." He shouted, rambling. "All of mankind came from theses fucking nuts." He shouted, staring at them. While they just stood their listening to his tantrum, "You all should be worshipping me." He screamed.

"you ungrateful, disgusting fucking losers!" He shouted,Adam wails, and everyone stars at him in shock seeing the dagger protruding from his stomach. "Hey, you got something sticking out of your..your thing there." said Lucifer, pointing nonchalantly at the dagger sticking out of his stomach.

Adam fell forward, revealing Niffty holding the blade in her hands. "Niffty?" Charlie said in shock. Niffty sat there for a moment before, "Stab! Stab! Stab!" Niffty shouted, as she laughed manically. As she continued to stab him repeatedly. "Blood! ha ha ha!" She laughed, a crazed look in her eyes.

Lute screamed, as she rushed towards Adam turning him over as he died. Crying over her friend and leader, who sent her a final smile before dying. "It's over," Charlie and [Y/n], said glaring down at Lute.

"Take your little friends," said Lucifer, as he glared at Lute angrily in his demon form, "and go home." He shouted, is voice distorted and demonic. "Please.!" He asked, relaxed and calm yet with a sinister tone to his voice. Everyone watched, as the exorcists retreated back to heaven.

Lucifer sighed and turned back towards everyone, "Alright who wants some pancakes." asked Lucifer, as he wrapped an arm around [Y/n]'s waist. "This lovely lady right here makes some delicious, caramel apple pancakes." He said, a huge grin on his face. She smiled sheepishly, as she looked at everyone. Niffty raised her hand. "But first, I need to get this bandaged." She said, looking at the others smiling softly as she pointed at the wound.

She winced in pain as she climbed, over the rubble. “I’m okay,” She smiled, looking at Lucifer. She looked over towards Charlie, as she stared at the destroyed hotel. Everyone looked at her sadly, as she stared at the destruction and bloodshed that the war had caused. Holding KeeKee in her arms, she looked down at the banner they had made for Sir Pentious month's ago. Tears welled up in Charlie's eyes, realizing the ultimate sacrifice.

"He did it for us, the ultimate sacrifice," Charlie sang, as she choked back a sob. Vaggie placed her hand on her shoulder, "He gave me his trust, and look how we pay the price," She sang, as she walked away. She looked around at the cranage and destruction, "This bloodshed could have been avoided." She sang sadly, even though they won. She felt as if in a way it was all for nothing with the lives that were lost, "If I convinced Heaven to work together," She sang, tearfully.

She walked over towards the ledge, revealing the destroyed Hazbin Hotel and what remains, "I took a hotel and I destroyed it," She sang sadly, seeing the damage she couldn't help but blame herself for, "I know I could have done better." She sang, as she hugged her self tears welling up in her eyes, as she fell to her knees. "Better, instead of letting you down," She sang, looking down at the ground.

 'Come on little lady, why the frown?' Lucifer sang, as he looked down at his daughter, placing a hand on his shoulder. 'In the last ten-thousand years. You're the first one to change this town' He sang, standing up on his feet getting in front of her, 'You can do this, now I know it!' He sang, placing his hand underneath Charlie's chin. 'For your story has just begun'

"You can't quit now, hell, you owe it," [Y/n] sang, as she smiled at Charlie warmly, "There's still damage to be undone," sang Lucifer, as he smiled at his daughter.

"You've changed my mind," He sang.

"You've touched their hearts." sang [Y/n].

"Found the good in souls gone bad"

"The stage is wrecked, the crowd is gone,"

Lucifer looked at his daughter triumphantly, and sang."But by God, Charlie!" [Y/n]wrapped an arm around her, "The show, it must go on" Lucifer and [Y/n] sang, Charlie looked up towards her friends.

“We can do this!” Charlie’s friends sang, as they looked down at her smiling comforting her, making the best of the situation. “We can build it!” everyone sang, smiling at her.

‘Best hotel that you’ve ever seen!’

‘Twice the bedrooms’

‘We can fill it’

“With more sinners than you can dream,” Lucifer sang, as he wrapped an arm around [Y/n]’s waist, a slight tint of red appearing on her cheeks. “It starts with you, you know, it's true.” They sang, as they looked down at her smiling. Hopeful despite the hotel being destroyed, despite the sinners lost.

“Fulfill your destiny!” Charlie looked at her friend, and wiped away her tears and smiled looking at them. “So long as I've got all of you with me!” Charlie smiled, as she wrapped her arms around them.

[Y/n] spreads her wings and smiles, as she flies around. Helping everyone work on rebuilding the hotel. From scratch to be grander than ever. As she sang to help rebuild the hotel she, still couldn’t believe that he loved her back. Almost feeling like a dream that he told her he loved her back. Her heart still skipping a beat, as a wave of relief seemed to wash away.

After a seemingly endless period of wallowing in self-pity, she had finally found happiness with him. With him by her side, she was filled with a sense of anticipation for what was to come in the future.

Suddenly, he scooped her up in his arms like a bride, and she let out a yelp of surprise. As he leaned down towards her, she felt his lips against hers, and a soft gasp escaped her. Her body tensed up in response as her heart began to pound against her chest, overcome with a mixture of nervousness and relief. Her eyes slowly fluttering shut as she melted into the kiss. Wrapping her arms around his neck, leaning more into the kiss.

He whispered into her ear, causing her to shudder and turn beet red. Despite her flustered demeanor, he couldn't help but chuckle softly. Furrowing her eyebrows as she looked at him, and playfully leapt out of his arms.

Transforming into a duck with butterfly wings, and flying off. Lucifer chasing after her, as she switched between each forms giggling, as they continued to help rebuild the hotel. She smiled, as magic flew through her fingers butterflies flew around the hotel glowing with yellow ichor.

Everyone stood at the portrait of Sir Pentious, memorial saluting the great general who sacrifed himself for his friends. “We can do this,” everyone sang, as they stared at the portrait mourning the loss. But a smile on their face, knowing that his sacrifice guaranteed them a better and hopeful future towards redeeming sinner.

“We can do this,” Charlie sang, as she stared at the “We'll be better,” everyone sang smiling, as they remembered Sir Pentious. Saluting their fallen friend.

“We'll be better,”

‘Though redemption may take a while’

“Though it may take a while,” Charlie sang, smiling as [Y/n] placed her hand in her shoulder.

‘Wayward sinners, clear their ledger’

‘And we're doing it with a smile’ Alastor sang, as he appeared between them. Charlie’s eyes lighting up smiling, as she hugged him. “Yeah!” everyone except Lucifer, smiled as they looked towards Alastor.

‘We made a difference, wait and see’

‘We're gonna do this, you and me.’ Charlie and Vaggie sang, as they hugged eachother.

As they walked out towards the courtyard with a hopeful smile. [Y/n] smiled as Lucifer took her hand into his squeezing, she looked down at him and smiled. Fireworks lit up the red sky of hell, as they looked at the newly rebuilt Hazbin Hotel.

Lucifer used his magic shrinking the key, and handing it to Charlie. Who smiled looking at the hotel, “And then tomorrow, it will be a fuckin’ happy day in Hell!” They all sang, as they looked at the newly completed and rebuilt grander than ever. Hazbin Hotel.

[side chapter sneak peek]

Lucifer and [Y/n}, had left suddenly after saying goodbye to Charlie and everyone saying they needed some. "rest" But Angel knew all to well, he saw right past through it. "Yeah, they're about to fuck." Angel said, earning a groan of disgust from everyone. In particularly, Charlie. "Ew, that's my dad." said Charlie, in disgust looking up at Angel Dust.

"What? It's pretty obvious!" He exclaimed, folding his arms across his chest. Before looking off in the distance curiously, "I wonder what kind of kink the Short King is into." He wondered curiously, he took notice of the apples.

Charlie covered her ears, while everyone started walking off. "He's definitely into food play, whipped cream and apples." Angel continued, and "Lala! I can't hear you!" Charlie shouted, as she walked off. "Hey, Charlie give me Y/n's number so I can ask!" He shouted, running after her, "No!" shouted Charlie, as she walked towards the hotel.

"Aw, come one I need to know!" Angel shouted, chasing after Charlie.

meanwhile.. in lucifer's room{ya'll will get the actual smut later so rn its the morning after}

Lucifer's eyes fluttered open and he was met with the most wonderous sight, of [Y/n] and her crinkled up nose as she slept letting out the occasional snore. He smiled softly, as he brushed his fingers against her cheek causing her to smile. His heart seemed to flutter, how did he get so lucky?

"Aw, Lucifer." She said playfully, looking at him as he attacked her neck with kisses, "I've gotta make breakfast." She said, and he nuzzled his head into the crook of her neck. "Mm, not yet." He said, as he pulled her underneath the covers. She was in for a long morning.

a/n: no y/n didn't know that Lilith was in heaven im not kidding. She had no idea, but with her coming into play for season 2. There will def be some drama stirring, if she's a villian or not.

also lemme know if theres any gaps so i can go back and fix them.

taglist: @supernerdycookietrashblrr @96jnie @mit-suri @koji-akeme @dinawss @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @wanderlustingcastaway @only-cherry-blossom @runaway-expert @buubsii @darkknightsandredrobins @kokoneai5 @colletepop @asheitoshin @thesimppotato11 @cherry-4200 @jolynetodd @blaire-blake @thedarkkitten @astrxwitch

[siren-141]

part two to this angsty beauty - enjoy 🖤

Your head pounded when you woke up, sunlight filtering through the curtains in your shared bedroom. Well, in your bedroom now. Who knows if you’d even be able to keep the apartment – would he want to stay here or would you? He said he’d be here today to pick up his things, so maybe he was letting you keep it. Maybe you’d surprise him with an empty apartment when he came to collect his things, and you’d be long gone.

Gone, that’s where you wished you could go. What did that even mean..?

It didn’t matter.

You got up and cleaned your face, throwing on some workout clothes and stepping out into the cold air. It was winter in New York City, and everyone else was bundled up with long coats and scarves, boots and their fuzzy socks peeking up at the top. You walked the five miles to the Avengers tower in some leggings, running shoes, and a light hoodie, not even bothering to put the hood on.

You slipped into the meeting just as it was starting, taking a spot next to Natasha this time instead of your usual one. There was an empty chair next to your ex-fiancé, everyone taking notice of it but not mentioning it more than a quiet glance amongst each other. Bucky listened with intent as if nothing had happened – you stared at the small scratch in the glass table until your eyes went fuzzy.

“I know we just finished one mission up – seriously, great job, you two-” he gestured to you and Bucky. Clearly not reading the room, he continued. “Truly a dream team, you two work great together.”

You could hear Bucky huff out a sarcastic laugh and you just rolled your eyes. How he had the audacity to sit there and act like he hadn’t just shattered your entire world last night, you would never know. It’s always been fucking hard to be with you. His harsh voice rang in your ears, flashbacks from last night hitting you like a train.

“Tony, could you..?” Natasha motioned for Tony to continue with his agenda and stop lingering.

“Right.” His voice was drowned out by the blood rushing through your ears, and you could barely hear what he was saying anymore, starting to zone out again.

Natasha nudged you, and everything came back into focus.

“Solo mission, Canada. Rumlow’s back.” She whispered it over to you as indiscreetly as possible, the details that Tony had just gone over, but without all of his theatrics.

You looked over at her. Rumlow? You mouthed. She nodded her head grimly.

“I can do it. I have the most experience dealing with him-” Bucky piped up finally, acting as some sort of martyr.

“I’ll go.”

All heads turn to you, finally having spoken up and looked up from the scratch on the table.

“Are you out of your mind?” Bucky’s words sliced through the silence. You locked eyes with him and there was nothing but fury and heartbreak in yours. You could see where his hands were in fists below the table, balled up and trying to keep his composure.

You looked at Tony. “I’ll go. Rumlow doesn’t know me. Even if he had files on each of us, you know mine is sealed. I’ve only been on covert missions that didn’t deal with the public-”

“Tony, you can’t let her go on this mission!” Bucky tried to speak over you. You could tell he was getting mad.

“-and because of that, my identity has never been known. To him, I’m just a random girl. Send me. I’ll get it done.”

It was silent in the room, and you could cut the tension with a knife. But Tony had made up his mind.

“Those are all…excellent points. Meet me in 20 in my office and we’ll go over it. You leave tomorrow.”

You closed your eyes, a feeling of relief washing over you. The meeting ended and you got up to leave, managing to round the corner before you felt a grip on your arm, stopping you dead in your tracks.

“You can’t go on that mission alone, he will kill you,” Bucky said through his gritted teeth. You tried to keep walking but his grasp on your arm was too strong. You knew you could never overpower him. “I’m going instead.”

“You know what you can fucking do-” you turned around in his arms and managed to shake out of his hold. By this time, the people who were left after the meeting were all silent and watching. You barely took note of them as you felt your vision cloud with rage.

“Hey, guys-” Steve tried to step in, tapping Bucky on the shoulder. It was no use. Your eyes brimmed with tears of rage.

“No, you go back to wherever the fuck you went last night and leave me ALONE!” you yelled at him, whipping around and starting to storm off. Before you got too far though, you turned back around and threw your engagement ring at his feet and let it clatter around the tile floors for everyone to see. “Sorry if I’m too hard for you to deal with right now, but I’m going on that mission alone and I hope that when I’m done, I can fucking stay up there away from you.”

He watched as you walked down the hallway and turned into Tony’s office, the door shutting behind you. He stood there in silence, the audience behind him in utter shock. They all began to dissipate, going in their own directions, until it was just him left.

I'll probably turn this into a multi-part fic, what do y'all think? part 3

[mack-devereaux]

Hiii i wanna ask if ya can write something with Vince? Maybe him getting into a fight (so hot i love it) and hin hurting his wrist are something? And reader taking care of him afterwards. Plleeaassee

Vince Dunn

Omg this is my first request!! I’m so sorry it took so long! Also check out my other fic about Vince. I think they have a similar vibe. But This has no relation to that one. I had so much fun writing this. Just a reminder this is a work of fiction and my imagination, this is not based on true events. Thank you to the anon who requested!

Picture is from Pinterest, no triggers except for cursing and mentions of blood. I think that’s it! Enjoy!

When Vince first moved to Seattle he was excited. This was a brand new team and he had more opportunities to make a name for himself as one of the more aggressive defensemen in the NHL. He had always had a temper on the ice, even in his early days in high school and in the OHL, and he was good at running his mouth. He was always respectful to the medical training staff and the coaching staff, he never took his anger or frustration out on the people who helped him get back on the ice.

Did he cause the fights on purpose? Maybe.

Was he mad about being hauled into the cute medical trainers office to get patched up? Absolutely not. He enjoyed talking with y/n and getting to know her a bit better.

Did he cause fights just to see her? No, he truly has a passion for the sport, he just sometimes got a little too involved with the banter sometimes. However a perk to all this was those few minutes alone with y/n. Although she never really spoke to him much outside of work and was always very quiet he knew how passionate she was about her job. No matter what she was always so attentive to the injury and informative about what she was doing to help said injured player.

Y/n loved the energy of the home games, she typically didn’t get to travel very much with the team, only to close games, but something about the atmosphere of home games had her just buzzing with energy. Most of the time she got to watch the game from the tunnels, it was the perfect spot to see most of the game and it was easy to drag injured players back to the locker room to tend to the injuries. Tonight’s game was a home game against the Colorado Avalanche again, a team known to get the Kraken a little riled up. Just the week prior Vince had gotten himself into quite the scrum and ended up with a cut on his nose while playing against the Avalanche.

*flashback to a week prior*

Y/n was sitting in the medical room at Ball Arena, going through the medical kits organizing some of the supplies. She had heard the roar of the crowd and immediately knew there was a fight that happened. Shortly after that, the third period had ended. Hearing the players stomping down the tunnel shouting and cheering she already knew who was headed her direction.

“Vince..” y/n sighed pulling all her medical supplies back out.

“Don’t act like you aren’t happy to see me” Vince chirped at the girl.

“You’re gonna have some serious damage to your nose if you don’t stop” y/n said as she was washing her hands and throwing her gloves on “I’m surprised you don’t have a permanent scar from how many times I’ve seen it busted”.

“That just means you are doing a great job babe. I’ve got you to thank for keeping me looking good” Vince smiles.

Y/n rolled her eyes and turned around trying to hide her blush. Knowing this was the exact reason as to why she fell for him. He was just so charming. He knew exactly what to say and that’s why she could never date him. That and the fact that she technically worked for the same organization as him. Were they coworkers? No, but surely it was still frowned upon. At least that’s what she told herself anyway. As she was cleaning off the blood from his nose she caught herself admiring him. He truly was one of the most beautiful people she’s ever laid eyes on. Once the bleeding stopped she checked for other injuries, and sent him to be with the rest of the team.

“Promise me you’ll keep out of trouble for at least the next week” she called to him as he walked away.

“For you? Never.” He added with a wink.

*present*

Five minutes left in the third period and y/n had gotten to watch maybe 10 minutes total of the game. Partially because she didn’t like seeing Vince fight much, and because the players definitely kept her busy. This was probably the most bloody noses and knuckles she had tended to in her entire career. Normally the crowd goes crazy and encourages fights, and she definitely enjoyed that. But for some reason she couldn’t stomach seeing Vince getting hurt. I guess she had Cupids arrow to thank for that. After a few more minutes gloves went flying, curse words were being yelled and the crowd went wild. Reluctantly she looked over in front of the players bench and Vince had thrown a Colorado player on his back.

“Oh for fucks sake Vince” she muttered under her breath.

“You got him or do you want me to take care of him this time” the head medical trainer asked y/n chuckling and shaking his head.

Y/n looked across the ice as Vince and the Avalanche player got tossed in their respective sin bins, she sees that Vince has his helmet off and is holding his wrist.

“I think he hurt his wrist, do you see him messing with it?” y/n points to Vince.

“I’ll take a look when we get back there but I’m sure he’s fine. I think you can handle it after that” the trainer says as they walk back to the locker room.

After the game y/n was in her office waiting for Vince, it had been nearly 40 minutes since the game ended. What was taking him so long? She knew Coach had told him to stop by after their after game meetings and interviews. While she was waiting she decided to tidy up and clean a bit. As she was cleaning her desk she found the puck that Vince had signed and gave to her earlier that year.

*flashback to late last season*

Y/n was standing behind the players bench. It was the last home game for the season, then they were headed into playoffs. Looking onto the ice she watched the players warm up and interact with fans. Vince was watching y/n as he was skating in circles, getting a boost of confidence he picked up a puck and signed it with a note. Smirking he passed by and shouted “hey y/n! Catch!”

Panicking y/n shot both of her hands in front of her face as the head medical trainer caught the puck before it smacked her in the face.

“Really Dunn?!” Y/n shouted.

Vince grinned and skated off, shaking her head she looked at the puck she noticed it said “hey pretty girl” with his signature. Blushing she shoved it in her pocket before she could get scolded.

“Oh he’s so got it bad for you” the trainer said.

“Leave the chirping to the players would you” y/n muttered “besides it’s not like I can date him anyway.”

“Technically…”

“Don’t tempt me” y/n sighed “my heart can’t handle the heartbreak that comes with that one.” She continued to watch him skate around and talk to his teammates with a huge smile on his face.

*back to present*

Y/n smiled at the memory. Not knowing she wasn’t alone, because of course Vince would walk in at that very moment. Leaning up against the doorframe Vince coughed snapping her back to reality.

“My God Vince, now you choose to be quiet? You scared me” y/n shoved the puck back into the drawer.

“I’ll make sure to knock next time” he softly smiled. He totally saw that she still had the puck and it definitely boosted his ego.

“Let me see your wrist” y/n said.

“It’s fine” he muttered.

“If it’s fine let me double check then” y/n challenged.

Vince walked over and sat down on the bench in her office, while reluctantly holding his wrist out. He watched her face as she examined his wrist.

“I think if we wrap it for tonight and tomorrow you should be fine, but the swelling needs to go down significantly before you play again. I’ll clear you for practice but you have to be easy on your arm for the next few days” y/n said as she was grabbing the necessary supplies.

“Thank you for taking care of me y/n, I’m sorry for fighting” Vince whispered.

She smiled at him as she sat down and started wrapping his wrist. Knowing full well that he was watching her face closely the entire time.

“I’ll walk you to your car” Vince said.

“I’d appreciate that, thank you” y/n said as she turned back to him after putting the supplies away. With yet another boost of confidence Vince grabbed her by the waist and pulled her face to his and kissed her, she immediately kissed him back. The kiss was short and sweet. Electricity shot through her body and she felt as if she was on fire. After pulling away y/n whispered “we should go.” Neither of them saying anything as they left the arena. Vince was feeling defeated for the first time in a long time, why hadn’t she said anything? Did he over step? Did he make her uncomfortable? A million more discouraging thoughts ran through his head. Him not knowing she was in shock and on cloud nine all at once. Y/n unlocked her car and opened the door. Before she got in she turned to Vince and pulled his face to hers and slammed her lips onto his. Vince cockily smiled into he kiss and pulled her into him as he slipped his tongue into her mouth. After a few minutes they both pulled away, breathing heavy and trying to get as close as possible to each other.

“Thank you for walking me to my car Vince.”

“Let me know when you get home so I know you’re safe.”

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[dark-frosted-heart]

Roger Barel Main Route - Chapter 16

As usual, can’t guarantee 100% accuracy on this. I’m doing this for archiving purposes and you can probably find a better translation out there.

Kate: …Nn…Where is this?

I regained consciousness on the cold floor.

(That’s right…I ended up smelling something that came from behind me…)

(is this…a warehouse…somewhere?)

My head still felt heavy as I raised it, and stood up.

(I’m not tied up…)

I sighed in relief, but then—

Kate: …!

When I sensed a presence, I turned around and saw a boy and girl looking pale and trembling.

(Who are these kids?)

(...Could it be that—)

~~ Flashback ~~

Barkeep: These days you hear a lot of young men and women get attacked or go missing.

--

Liam: Lately, young people have been getting attacked or going missing.

Ellis: Do you mean the incidents Victor and Will are investigating?

~~ End flashback ~~

(...Did I end up getting involved in the incident?)

While I sat there in surprise, I suddenly heard footsteps from the darkness.

Man in a black hood: Looks like you’re all awake.

One, two, three, four men with black hoods over their eyes appeared.

(These were the criminals who attacked me…)

They each held either a gun or a knife.

(I thought I was glad that I wasn’t tied up…How naive)

The fact that I had such freedom meant that there was no way you’d get away.

Depending on what they do, my life could be taken instantly.

I went pale with fear and fell to my knees.

(Calm down…I’m a fairytale keeper trained by Roger)

(Out of everyone here, I’m the one most familiar with “evil”)

I felt for the gun strapped to my garter belt. Luckily that wasn’t taken away.

(Everyone should soon realize that I’ve disappeared)

And then Crown…Roger will come save me.

The evil Crown was the best group you could have as your ally.

(Besides, Crown’s been following this case)

(If they thought that saving me would help solve this case, then they’d be on it now)

I just had to wait.

(...I’ll need to buy some time)

(Or else…the kids and I—)

A shiver ran down my spine when it felt like the Grim Reaper was drawing near. I mustered up all my strength and stood in front of kids to protect them.

Kate: …Why are you doing this?

Man in a black hood: I don’t see a point in explaining ourselves to someone who’s about to die.

(“Someone who’s about to die”...)

Meaning they plan to kill us in the end.

(We’re not being held for ransom)

(They kidnap random youths)

(But…why would they kill all these people?)

I didn’t understand their intentions.

That made me anxious, and after putting all that effort into standing, my legs started shaking.

Look for a chance to escape

Beg for your life

Provoke him +4 +4

Kate: …It’s not like you’re going to let us run. If we’re waiting to die, then wouldn’t it be nice to have something to take with us to the afterlife? But if you can’t even give us that…then do what you want.

A look of annoyance crossed his face and he gulped audibly.

But the provocation did its job and the hooded man started to talk with an air of confidence.

Man in a black hood: In this world, there’s a thing called “being useless”. Withered flowers, abandoned buildings, dead people. However, there are some people who find value in these.

Kate: There are people who value us even after we die?

(I think…Roger and I had a conversation like this before)

~~ Flashback ~~

Kate: Roger, what’s this law written here in “Dissection Laws”?

Roger: As you know, medicine’s advancing pretty rapidly in England. With that comes a lot of dissections performed by doctors and researchers. Now here’s a question. What do you think the problem with this is?

Kate: …They run out of specimens to perform dissections on?

Roger: Correct. So then people go and collect human specimens however they can.

Kate: Ah, I’ve heard of people who dig up graves to steal corpses.

Roger: That’s why the “Dissection Law” was established to prevent that and ensure cadavers were acquired legally.

~~ End flashback ~~

(...Being regulated by law increases the shortage of human specimens)

That’s why they were killing young people.

Not for ransom.

But the corpses had value.

With this, I came to a conclusion—

Kate: Are you all doctors or researchers who need human specimens?

Man in a black hood: Oh? You’re clever…Who are you?

Kate: I don’t have a name to share.

Man in a black hood: Hmm, cheeky. You’re not entirely wrong, but… Let’s stop chatting. My client wants silent offerings.

The hooded man took something out.

What reflected the dim light dully was—

(A knife…)

--

Roger: This is supposed to be the base, but there’s nothing here…Did we get it wrong?

When they entered, the warehouse was only filled with silence and the smell of dust.

Nica: It’s too early to give up, no? These places tend to have dummies. Like hidden passageways or hidden doors.

Roger held up a finger to stop him from talking.

Roger: …I can “hear” something. There are people in the basement.

Nica: Oh, so that’s abnormal hearing. I thought it had its limitations, but it’s pretty useful.

Ale: Arf arf.

Jude: The dumb dog found somethin’.

Picking up Ale who was sniffing around a wooden crate and moving said crate out of the way revealed—

Roger: A hidden passageway.

Nica: See, I knew it. That means you’re likely right.

They descended into the hidden passageway.

At the base of the stairs, a lone candle casted a shadow on the wall.

Roger: There’s no hiding spots though. Guess we’ll have to get out.

After they emerged, someone saw the shadows their shadows on the wall.

Man with mouth covered: …Who’s there!

10 men appeared, all with their faces covered by cloth.

Jude: Oi, quack. Keep goin’. Princess will be dead if ya don’t hurry.

Roger: …Jude

Jude: Huh? What’s with that face? It’s on your conscience if she dies. Go.

Roger: Sorry. I’ll waive your medical bill. Don’t die, Jude.

With that, Roger ran into the darkness.

Man with mouth covered: Hey, one’s running away. After him!.

The once quiet underground  space turned into a warzone full of angry shouts.

Nica: Oh, I caught something good. You might look mean, but you’re a quite the compassionate fellow aren’t you?

Jude: Don’t think ya got time to chat when you’re gettin’ attacked from behind.

Man with mouth covered: …Die!

Nica: …

Less than a second after noticing the shadow on a ceiling, a gunshot rang out from Nica’s hand.

He killed his target with precision without even looking.

Nica: Unfortunately, I’m not easy to kill. You chose the wrong people to fight.

Man with eyes covered: …Shit, I thought I had you…Gah.

Jude broke the man’s jaw with the tip of his shoe.

Jude: Shaddup.

Jude: …Who the hell are ya.

Cobalt blue eyes smiled at the cold gaze.

Nica: Nica Schwartz, a member of the German Empire’s Vogel. It’s cruel that you’ve forgotten after I’ve already introduced myself. I have a glass heart you know.

Jude: I’m not imaginin’ things when I say you’re too experienced for a mere lapdog. How’d you know ‘bout his abnormal hearin’?

Nica: Don’t worry, I know about you too. Jude Jazza, the president of a trading company. A company that deals in materials and food that don’t often face changes in demand, as well as luxury items and jewelry… You’re also skilled in handling what’s trending in the market. Having a diverse range of products limits risk, so you must be making a lot of money. …Want me to keep going?

Jude: Tch, all that snoopin’s makes me sick.

Nica: You need to know someone to get along with them. Don’t you think we’d get along, Mr. President?

Nica smiled suggestively. Then, multiple footsteps approached.

It appeared that the mens’ colleagues noticed that something unusual happened in the basement and assembled.

Nica: It’s rude to interrupt when I’m trying to solicit* someone. Let’s finish you off quickly.

Jude: Careful I don’t kick you by accident, Vogel lech.

Nica: That’s my line.

--

Meanwhile—The noises underground haven’t reached the warehouse where the kidnapped youths were being held.

Man in a black hood: Let’s stop chatting. My client wants silent offerings.

Kate: …

I gasped at the dull glint of the knife.

Man in a black hood: Ah, yes. You lot, make sure they only get one stab in the stomach. Our client wants the bodies as clean as possible…Ugh, drugging would’ve been easier.

Another man had warned the man with the knife out.

(There are 4 people…My gun has seven rounds. I can take them)

(However)

—Am I able to kill people?

Kidnapped girl: *sob* …No, I don’t want to die…

Kidnapped boy: Me too…Getting killed…In a place like this…

(...Don’t be scared, don’t hesitate)

(They need to be condemned for taking so many lives)

To not arouse suspicion, I slowly reached under my skirt and then pulled out my gun.

(Roger gave me this gun for self-defense)

(But…Now’s the time to use it)

I hated myself for being weak.

I felt frustrated and wanted to change, so I decided to get stronger by being with Roger.

(Roger would definitely kill them all)

An image of him shouldering the guilt while taking however many lives with his rifle popped up in my mind.

(That’s why, I—these people, kill evil)

I held my gun up and placed a finger on the trigger.

(...)

But my finger was shaking— 

Kate: Ah.

The bullet I resolved to fire went way off the mark and made a hole in the wall.

The hooded man turned at the sound and looked at me with my gun still aimed.

Man in a black hood: Pfft, hahahaha! You use a gun like a child playing with a toy.

Kate: Eek…

He grabbed my arm and took my gun away.

Man in a black hood: I’ll show you how you use a gun properly…When you want to kill someone.

Kate: …

The feeling of the barrel of the gun pressed against my temple was a firsthand lesson in the price of failure.

(Ah…Damn)

(So this is the end…)

The only sound I could hear was my own heartbeat, yet as I stared into the darkness, I wished that I could see Roger’s face one last time.

(Farewell, Roger…)

-

*The word Nica uses can also mean flirt, hit on, make a pass at :3

[naomikozura]

Playing With Fire: Chapter 8

Jason Todd (Red Hood) x Fem!Reader (Criminal)

Trope: Enemies to Lovers, Forbidden Romance

Warnings: strong language, mentions of explosives/bombs, use of weapons/guns, mentions of murder, angst, emotional trauma, mentions of killing someone, arguments, emotional turmoil, plotting, mentions of robbery, kidnapping, and abuse, flashbacks (lmk if I missed any!)

WC: 7.5K

Summary: As you prepare for a meeting with Sionis, you can't help the memories of the past that flood your mind, reliving moments you never thought would be so distant. You feel a sense of regret, something you haven't felt in a long time, wondering where did everything go wrong? And when did everything start to get worse?

Series Masterlist

Chapter 7 || Chapter 9

The sound of Joker’s maniacal laugh broke out into the room once again. You found yourself sitting on the couch, a bored expression on your face, as Joker continued to taunt Sionis’ guards. You could see the glint of fear in their eyes but their training in high profile security made them barely have a reaction. Minus the new hire who got punched in the face by Sionis. He seemed a lot jumpier than the other new guards he’d contracted. 

You watched as Sionis conducted his usual meeting, this time focusing more on Joker’s psychotic idea of a plan, and using all the information necessary to lure Red out of hiding. Sionis thought it genius, you thought of it as overkill. 

You turned, looking out the window and taking in the darkness of the city. It was late, Penguin had sent you to work with Sionis for the time being, not knowing when his next job would come up so it was good to get payment even if it was through the bastard. 

“So when can we get this moving forward?”, Sionis’ deep voice sounded irritated, but you knew he was just impatient. He wanted results a month ago, hell since Red first started to make hits on his operations. He hated losing money so the fact that he’d lost millions over the course of three months made him dangerous and craved the sight of Red’s dead body. 

A pull in your gut made you wallow in your thoughts. Your fight with Red entered your mind, wondering how everything turned bad so fast. Your pride refused to let you admit that you overreacted, that he was just trying to help. But the last time you let someone try helping you they ended up abandoning you. You couldn’t help but be cautious. Even if it meant reacting completely out of character. 

“Give me a week, maybe two. I'll think of something and then I can get my fun started up”, the smile faded, perhaps it’d been the first time you’d seen Joker without that stupid smirk. “Though, I think it’ll be more fun without her involved.”

Your eyes met Joker’s, narrowing at him as he pointed at you. You sat up, pushing yourself out of the chair and stretching.

“Sounds like a plan.”, you mocked before Sionis snapped his glare at you, his eyes darkening. Although he hated that you rejected him so casually, he knew you were an asset to this more than anything. 

“Sit down.” he threatened. “You’re here for a reason.”

You rolled your eyes before plopping back down into the seat. You didn’t even need to be here. Not at Sionis Industries, not even in Gotham. Still, you wanted to see what exactly they were trying to do, regardless of how you felt about it personally. 

“I think this will be fun, even with you involved.”, Joker sneered. “In fact, I’ll find a special part for you to play!”

“I don’t want a special part in your dumb game.”, you muttered. 

“Oh you’re feisty!”, he clapped. “I love this already.”

God, you couldn’t believe you were really sitting in a room full of men having to listen to them go over a plan and address you like some after thought. You turned around, letting their conversation blend into the background as you sat around for another hour. When they finally finished, you got up and left. 

It was almost 4am. 

You needed to get some sleep, try to get some sleep, but you’d felt waves of insomnia crash into you as the days went by. You tried drinking tea, medicine, everything to get you back on a normal schedule but it felt like your body was going through every possible loop to keep you from having a comfortable night of rest. 

You walked around your apartment, walking to the restroom to finish getting ready to try and sleep when you looked over at the duffel bags in the closet. You still haven't touched the money. Hadn’t started to slowly deposit it or even used it for anything. You couldn’t bring yourself to use the money. Even though you had done the work to deserve the payout, a piece of you still refused to use it.

Shaking your head, you changed into a cami and shorts, trying to ignore the thoughts in your head before they quickly came back. You pulled your hair into a ponytail, your neck exposed as you stared at yourself in the mirror. You ran a hand over your neck, the lingering of Red’s touch evident on your skin. You had small bite marks that had started to bruise, not too dark but slowly fading. As much as you tried to ignore the little chips he made at your armor, you couldn’t keep them at bay forever. Your skin felt like it was on fire, the blush creeping up your neck as you turned, moving away from the exposure the mirror gave to the marks on your skin. 

You let your body fall on the bed, the sheets cool on your skin as you stare at the ceiling, letting your argument get to you again. You turned towards the window, laying relaxed against the sheets and breathing in the natural smell of your apartment. It smelled like sage and lavender, a relaxing and calming aroma that allowed you to feel a sense of relief. Though, the emptiness you felt in your chest at the moment provided you no sense of relief, it made you heavy with remorse. 

Your pride, your anger, your trauma, it all made you react towards Red in a way you wished you hadn’t. He was trying to help you, trying to understand, and you just pushed him away. You had your reservations about everything having to do with him but somehow, over the weeks, it all changed. You convinced yourself you let him live because of your hatred towards Sionis, but once Sionis was removed from the picture entirely you couldn’t bring yourself to come up with reasons to dislike him. Especially not after the Gala. 

Regardless of his family, he still treated you like an equal. In midst of all the fights, the arguing, the hits, the targeting, he knew you were talented, strong, smart, quick, and he respected you in a way not many men in this life could openly admit they did. It made him stand out in a way regardless of the fact that he was another vigilante running around on the street wreaking havoc. 

You let yourself fall into sleep, watching as the darkness consumed your body and whispered a lullaby of reassurance, leaving you feeling the warmth of  the night. 

“Calvi finally agreed to come over to our side of business.”, Penguin’s voice sounded as he shifted through the papers on his desk. You looked up at him from the filing cabinet as you looked for specific paperwork he needed to follow up with an investor on one of his businesses. You pulled the file, skimming the contents, before walking over to his desk and setting it down gently. 

“When did he confirm his new alliance?”

“Just a few days after the Gala. Said he wanted to get more insight on our operation and agreed whenever you put mention of my name on the table. Said he’d rather have business investments that will benefit his own businesses while having protection than just having bare minimum protection.”, you hummed in response. It made sense. Calvi always wanted to ensure his businesses were kept under top security, himself included considering his ties within the underground. He hadn’t reached out to you for a few days, probably working on his own business needs but a part of you was glad you wouldn’t have to deal with him again. Although he looked the part of the ideal partner, he was far from it and not the thing you wanted. 

“I don’t have anything new for you, so just stick with Sionis until something comes up”, a piece of you felt a tug of annoyance at having to work with Sionis so closely, but you only nodded. You continued to help him fix his paperwork, getting a few miniscule things finished before heading home for the night. 

“I think I can wrap up. You can go ahead.”, Penguin motioned as you watched him intently. He’d been a lot less busy, but then again, it was slow season at the Lounge and the majority of his efforts were spent helping Sionis catch Red. Another pang of emotion hit you in the gut, making your hands twitch slightly before you pulled them back. “Be careful, it’s supposed to down pour tonight.”

You nodded as you walked to your locker, putting everything away before you went home for the evening. You slid on the jacket you brought with you to cover you from the rain. It’d started to rain a lot more this week, which didn’t make it convenient considering you had walked today. A cab might be the better option to avoid the water, but you decided against it, especially on this side of town. 

You pulled the hood over your head, grabbing your bag and leaving the Lounge as you walked through the streets. It was only 7pm so the light was still out but the clouds made it seem a lot later than it actually was. You couldn’t really bring yourself to focus on anything this week, you needed to snap into focus before tomorrow. You needed to complete the job, letting your mind wander to a million different things would keep you from completing your work. 

The streets were filled with people trying to get home, most of them wearing raincoats or with umbrellas, cars filling the streets as you heard the distant rumble of the sky as the thunder sounded out. It had started raining more, especially considering that Gotham wasn’t usually in rain season this time of the year. Then again, the rain and gloomy clouds added to the ambiance of the city. It seemed fitting for a place like Gotham. 

You found yourself nearing your apartment, looking up to take in the look of the sky before continuing towards your building. You had gotten soaked, your bag was luckily covered in a material that was partially rain resistant, so it wouldn’t get your personal things wet, regardless they were replaceable so it didn’t make you worry too much. 

Navigating through the people who lived in your area seemed easy enough, but it had gotten a lot more crowded since the rents had dropped. More people were moving in and that meant there would be more people wandering around your complex. You tried to push through the people, and even though it wasn’t crowded, a body still hit your shoulder. You push back, snapping around you trying to yell at the person who’d bumped into you only for the words to die in your mouth.

Your eyes widened at the sight of Red in front of you. No mask, no suit. Just dark jeans, an oversized hoodie, and his body drenched in water. His eyes stared at yours in a widened glance, the rain falling around both of you and the people moving around your frozen bodies. You met his green eyes, silent as you stared at him in shock. 

Why was he on this side of town?

You didn’t have time for this, you couldn’t talk to him, not like this. You turned towards the streets that led to your home before you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, pulling you back as your head swiveled around to look at him again. 

“Y/n.”, was all he said because just like you, he couldn’t find anything to say. He wanted to talk, wanted to apologize but his pride and ego made him feel small. He had no right to ask for you to hear him out. Yet, he didn’t let go of your wrist. “Please”

You look at the ground, narrowing your eyes and furrowing your brows, trying to find the words to say to him in the middle of your anger, in the midst of your disappointment. 

“I.. I’m sorry.”, he said as the rain covered his words, the downpour made it difficult to hear him but you heard the words clear as day. You felt a tug in your chest. 

“I have to go.”, you tried pulling away but he kept you still, pulling down his hood and letting you see him fully. His hair was overly saturated with water and his clothes were far more drenched than yours were. You had tried staying in covered spaces while on your walk home to minimize getting soaked but you ended up with wet clothes anyway. 

“Y/n, I mean it.”, he breathed. “I’m sorry for the other night.”

You clenched your teeth, tightening your jaw as he continued. “I shouldn’t have said what I did that day. I know you’ve tried everything to get to where you are and even if you don’t realize it, you’re worth far more than any of those lowlives. Even if you don’t accept my apology or never talk to me again, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for that night.”

“Yeah”, you whispered. 

“I..”, his other hand fisted as he forced himself to say his next words. “Even if you don’t believe me, I know what it’s like to not have control or power. I know why you do the things you do, you had no other choice. I didn’t have another choice either. It’s not that you haven’t figured it out, you have. That’s why you’re leaving.”

Your lachrymose eyes met his dark ones, showing his honesty in every one of his words. 

“I hope you find what you’re looking for wherever you go.”, he smiled weakly. “I hope it’s better than here.”, he let go of your hand, relaxing as he watched you intently. You couldn’t bring yourself to say anything to him. He was finally understanding why you’d worked with Penguin, why you put up with Sionis, why you struggled to find a way out of the city that took everything from you. You had no reason to stay, and even if there was a sliver of reason, it didn’t exist anymore. It hadn’t existed in years. 

You turned away from him, the echo of his words ringing in your ears as the volume spoke over the cracking of the thunder. 

“Is it worth it?”

His words held a double meaning. You paused, contemplating a response as you read between the lines far too quickly. 

Is this worth giving yourself up for?

The weight of his question lingered in the air, a haunting reminder of the sacrifices made and the dreams that you were forced to abandon. You faced the storm, the wind whipping around you, and felt the chill of uncertainty seeping into your bones. The city behind you, with its tangled webs and broken promises, had always been a place of struggle and compromise. With his words ringing through the winds, you questioned if all the work you’d done, the price you paid, was it all worth it for that freedom you’d always dreamt of?

Deep down, you wanted to believe that it was worth it, that all of this had been for something and not just a broken dream you were trying so hard to mend. You already lost so much, given up pieces of yourself for people like Penguin and Sionis, and in the end you were scared you’d end up with nothing. 

The storm raged on, but within you, a quiet resolve began to take shape. You took a deep breath, turning your gaze back towards him one last time. The truth in his eyes was undeniable—he understood more than anyone could. You could see the reflection of your own doubts in his dark gaze, and with a nod of silent understanding, you gave him the answer he needed. 

Even if it was a lie. 

“Yes,” you finally said, though the words were barely audible over the wind of the storm. And with that, you walked away, leaving him behind and moving towards the darkness of your apartment. 

The next morning was busy as you walked through the streets, letting your mind wander and getting a few errands finished before meeting with Sionis tonight. You were called in to get the information you needed to help carry out Joker’s plan, though you knew you’d find a way out of it entirely. 

Your mind couldn’t help but go back to Red, the entire fight with him just eating at you. You felt a sting in your chest at his words the other day, a big piece of you regretting that fight entirely. You knew he meant well, but you didn’t live in a position to give others the benefit of the doubt. It was kill or be killed, the most crucial game of survival and you were playing it to your fullest extent. You weren’t going to let yourself be caught in a web that would lead to your demise. 

As you walked past a small restaurant, you lingered, watching a young couple sitting together as they smiled at one another. You’d wondered if that was why your life could be like if you’d just…. stayed with the family. If Robin had stayed around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Flashback

“Rob, come on, let’s go try this new cafe I saw”

“Okay, okay. Relax we got all day.”, Robin muttered, a piece of you excited to try the cafe that had just opened. 

“I think this will be fun”, you smile at him, his smirk spreading across his lips as you tugged him with you, his eyes hidden behind bud signature dark glasses. 

“So, is this considered our first date?”, he teased as he caught up to your speed, his hand lacing in yours as he smiled down at you from the height difference. He was dressed in dark jeans, a loose fitting dark shirt and a jacket over top, his hair messy as always.

“I don’t know, if I don’t know what you look like wouldn’t it be a blind date?”, you cocked your head slightly. 

“I think that only counts if you’ve never met the person before. We already know each other”, he raised an eyebrow. 

“Well until you show me what you look like, we can call these friendly dates.”

“You see me as a friend?”, Robin raised a hand to his chest, “I’m honored”

You shoved him slightly, letting your hair fall in your face as you laughed at him. 

The two of you normally would meet at night, so going out during the day was a big move for both of you, especially considering you were publicly hanging out with someone when you never had before. It was him. He made you disregard any type of snide comments anyone could make. He knew about the people at Gotham Academy that would make fun of you, wishing he could make it stop but you went to different schools. So, his company was good enough to forget all about those other students. 

It was warm, spring time was nice in Gotham sans the rain, making the day nice to walk around the streets and take in the city through a day time lense. 

You leaned into him, grabbing his arm as you sank into his presence. It was nice having someone you could talk to about everything, especially someone like him. You felt like someone could finally see you, understood you, someone finally… cared.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The slight breeze blew your hair from your face as you moved through the crowds of people, the busy streets of Gotham a stark contrast to the inner turmoil you had going on. The towering buildings loomed above, casting long shadows that seemed to mirror the darkness you felt inside. You checked the time on your phone again, knowing you still had a few hours before your meeting with Sionis.

Regret gnawed at you, an unwelcome feeling since your last encounter with Red. You could still see the hurt in his eyes, a flicker of betrayal that cut deeper than any physical wound. You hadn’t meant for things to go that way, but your pride wouldn’t let you back down. You were too afraid to show weakness, too afraid to let him see how scared you were to let someone in. 

You wondered if he’d be the one who could’ve won you over, could’ve made you lower your walls and let yourself feel what it was like to just be a normal person in this godforsaken city. A piece of you wondered if he was thinking about you too. Did he also feel like there was something unresolved? Did he think about the fight? Was he also regretting it? Did it hurt him like it hurt you?

You let out a shaky breath, letting your thoughts spiral and holding on to the hope that maybe, just maybe, you could fix things between the two of you. Should you find him, send him a signal to meet at the rooftop you’d always see each other at? You looked at the ground as you walked through the streets, taking a deep breath and moving through the crowd. 

You needed to get home, it would be soon that you’d have to meet with Sionis and Joker, you needed to focus. As you walked through the streets, the city swallowed you up once more, but the regret remained, a silent whisper in the back of your mind.

Flash back 

The warm breeze rustled through the trees as you and Robin moved through the hidden paths of Gotham’s hidden, less known parks. This was one of the few days they would go out together, knowing they could finally get away from only seeing each other at night. You enjoyed moments during the day a lot more, you felt like he did too but never asked, it seemed a lot more normal. The both of you reached a secluded pond, the sun making the water glisten in a golden glow. 

You kicked off your shoes, walking to the water to dip your feet in, smiling at the warmth of the water. You turned over to Robin who stood staring at you with a smile on his face. “Come on, come feel the water.” 

He shook his head slightly, bending over and rolling up his jeans, proceeding to take off his shoes before walking next to you. “You know, I don’t think Batman would approve of this.”

“You care too much about what he thinks.”, you teased. “Besides, Batman isn’t here, is he? It’s just you and me.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”, he shrugged. “He can be a bit controlling sometimes but I know he means well.”

You hummed in response, looking down at the water surrounding your feet, your reflections staring right back at you. The silence covered both of you like a blanket of comfort and tranquility. Sometimes the both of you were more than content not speaking, it was what made you like hanging out with him, he didn’t fear the quiet. 

“Y/n”, he said finally after what felt like forever. “What do you want to do once you finish everything? You know, if both of us ever get the chance to leave Gotham?”

“I don’t know.”, you looked at the water, your eyes focused on the ripples that slowly formed from you moving your weight to be distributed evenly. “I’d like to travel, move to another city, anything to make everything feel more normal.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “We can go to another city and just forget Gotham. Just you and me.”, 

You smiled at him as he looked at you with a warm smile, the kind of warmth that leaves you feeling like everything would be okay no matter how difficult times got. He always made you feel okay no matter what. 

The silence came over you again, the trees surrounding both of you, creating a tranquil and calming background. You felt Robin intertwined his fingers into yours, this thumb rubbing the back of your hand as he turned towards you. “Promise me something.”, he said softly, his hair falling over his forehead. 

“Anything.”, you replied, turning to face him. 

“Promise me that no matter what happens, you'll find a way to be happy. Even if it's without me."

Your heart tightened at his words, squeezing his hand in yours. "I promise, but only if you promise the same."

He smiled, a bittersweet expression that hinted at the weight he carried. "I promise."

You felt your heart beat faster, letting yourself soak in the moment before the both of you went back to your home. As you walked back in silence, you couldn’t stop smiling, wanting these moments to never end. Always wanting them with him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked out at the city below from your window sill, the quiet rush of the cars below adding to the ambiance of the afternoon. You felt a heaviness in your heart, the memory of that day in the park was as vivid as ever. The promise you made to Robin, to be happy even if it was without him, it stung knowing you wouldn’t be happy with him. You tried finding the good from the bad, tried to find happiness in the middle of all the shitty hands you’d been dealt over the years, but that gaping hole in your chest made it hard to go on. You felt a piece of you just got ripped from your chest and you were left to walk through the world with a heart broken. 

You reached up to play with the small pendant on your necklace, the silence letting you sit with your thoughts. How do you open up to anyone the way you did with him after he left? After he made you feel like you were worth everything to being left feeling like nothing. You clung to the memory of your laughter, your dreams, and your unspoken love, even as the world around you grew darker. You knew you had started to feel stronger feelings than just like towards him, you both were just teenagers but you knew deep down he was more than just someone who would stay for a short while. You knew he’d be long term. 

Believed. 

Because he just wasn’t anymore. He wasn’t long term nor was he anything more than a memory. You turned to get ready for your meeting with Sionis and Joker, wiping the stray tear that fell down your cheek as you let your walls build back up into a fortress of solitude, mentally preparing for the night ahead. You couldn’t let your past haunt you, but with the way you’d been acting towards Red, it was like all of those memories just flooded back, explaining why you’d been so short, cold, distant. Still, weakness wasn’t an option. Not in Gotham. Not with the life you’d chosen. But in the walls of your apartment, the walls of your bedroom, you’d let yourself break. You’d give yourself those moments of weakness to endure the pain you’d never truly healed from, the hurt of being abandoned so easily just like everyone else in her life had done to her, it all only happened in the confines of your apartment. You’d let yourself reminisce, let yourself look back on the memories allowing yourself to find a sliver of happiness in the promises you once made with Robin. 

The promises you’d made to each other. 

Even if he broke all of his. 

Flashback 

The sun dipped slowly behind the Gotham skyline, casting a golden hue over the rooftop where you and Robin sat. You laughed as you watched him balance himself on the ledge of the building, his street clothing not providing much balance since his pants were baggy and it looked like he almost tripped over himself. 

“You’re going to fall, you know.”, you called out, shaking your head but smiling at him nonetheless.

“Not a chance.”, he replied with a grin before effortlessly hopping down to sit beside you. “That would be major ego damage considering I’m a literal sidekick to the city’s most known vigilante.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “Yeah, and then Batman would have to fire you. The news would eat that up.”, you lifted your hands and made a headline motion. “Breaking News: Batman fires the Boy Wonder, the reason? Lack of balance and coordination.”

He nudged you as the both of you laughed, his smile was warm and sweet, making your heart flutter at how he looked so handsome in such a casual setting. You laid back, looking at the clouds as they started to turn into a golden color due to the sunset, letting the warm weather sink into your skin. Robin turned his head towards you, his expression softening at your laid back demeanor, 

“Tell me something.”, he said softly. 

“Huh?”, you turned towards him, cocking an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Tell me something you’ve never told anyone else.”, he repeated, his eyes filled with curiosity as you looked at him. 

“What? No, you first.”, you nudged him.

He turned his head back towards the sky, taking in a deep breath and taking a moment to think. “"I used to be afraid of the dark. Crazy, right? Gotham's full of shadows, and I'm out there every night."

You laughed softly. "Not crazy at all. I used to be scared of thunderstorms. The noise, the flashes of light—it was scary as hell. Especially being on the street and hearing people screaming. It all felt so overwhelming."

He reached out, taking your hand in his. "We're not so different, are we?"

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "No, I guess we're not."

The dim light of your restroom mirror cast a soft glow on your skin as you pulled your hair out of the towel it was in, drying it before having to head out to Sionis Industries for your meeting with Sionis and Joker. You watched yourself as you dried your hair with the blow dryer quickly, letting your hair sit on your neck still a bit damp as you applied some makeup. Although you didn’t need much, you still liked wearing it. It gave you more confidence, made you more bold. You applied mascara gently, watching yourself as you pulled back from leaning over the sink. Your eyes held a trace of melancholy—a reflection of the memories that never quite left you.

You quickly changed into a pair of dark jeans that fit your body perfectly, the black tee paired with it as you pulled on your leather jacket. You did a final look in the mirror before feeling good enough to head out, your mind still in shambles as you left through the window and to your bike in the alley below. 

The streets weren’t too busy tonight, but it was still early. Having a meeting at 9pm seemed strange enough as it is, most times Sionis liked to call them in the middle of the day or in the middle of the night. You wondered why he would call for such an early time, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. 

Arriving at Sionis Industries was easy enough, it would be dealing with Sionis and his disgusting self that would pose as the greatest difficulty. Out of anything, you could always expect for him to try and convince you to work for him or be his. Something you would always deny. 

What else could possibly happen that would surprise you?

You walked through the building, using the access card to swipe into the door and reach the elevator that brought you to Sionis’ office. The guards nodded towards you before opening the door and letting you in, Sionis immediately skimming your body as he smirked, Joker lounging on the sofa as a twisted smile played on his lips. 

“Y/n”, Sionis greeted you, his tone serious but also had a hint of amusement. “Finally here,”

Joker’s eyes watched you with curiosity and mischief as he smiled at you. “Aren’t you dressed up all nice?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, grabbing a chair and plopping down in it as you crossed your legs and sitting opposite of them. “Alright. What are we here for?”

“Relax lambchop, we’ll figure it out soon enough.”, Joker laughed maniacally as you narrowed your eyes at him. “I have a good idea of what to do, let’s hope it’s just as fun in action as it is in my head.”

Great. You knew he was about to explain this in intense detail. Joker was one for theatrics so you wouldn’t put it past him to create a whole idea of how exactly every part of his stupid plan would go. 

Joker leaned forward, his eyes full of an unsettling mix of mischief and madness. “Alright, picture this: we’re going to execute a plan so chaotic, so beautifully disorganized that it will make every other plan look like a kindergarten craft project.”

He paused for dramatic effect, his grin stretching wider. “We’re going to use a high-profile, yet subtle diversion to grab Batman’s attention. Something that screams ‘look at me’ but doesn’t blow up in our faces. I’m thinking of something like an orchestrated crime spree—a series of high-impact, carefully staged incidents across Gotham.” Joker leaned back, his eyes gleaming with unrestrained excitement as he began laying out the details of his plan. 

You raised an eyebrow. “And these incidents?”

Joker waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, just a series of carefully planned heists and disturbances. Let’s say a jewelry store robbery where the ‘thieves’ leave behind a trail of glittering jewels as a calling card. A string of arson cases where the buildings are left untouched, but the flames form a message. Something flashy enough to make Batman’s ears perk up, but not so catastrophic that it draws every law enforcement officer in the city.”

“And the goal is to get Batman’s attention. Then what?”, you were not following his stupid plan at all. How did Red fit into this? He was the goal not Batman. 

“Exactly!” Joker’s grin was nearly maniacal. “Once Batman is sufficiently distracted by the chaos we’re creating, we set the real trap. The key is to make sure he’s lured into a specific area—a rundown warehouse on the edge of town. It’s got the right amount of isolation and drama for a grand showdown.”

Joker paused for effect, letting the anticipation build. “The warehouse will be rigged with a variety of surprises. Hidden cameras, explosives, and a few more ‘enhancements’ to ensure that once the Bat shows up, he’s not just dealing with one problem. No, no, he’ll be dealing with a carefully orchestrated mess.”

“And Red Hood? How does he fit into this?”

Joker’s eyes sparkled. “Well all of this is for us to lure Hoodie out. He’s at arms with the Bats, so if we get the Bat’s attention, we get the Hood’s!”

Sionis glared daggers at Joker, his patience visibly fraying. “You think this is a joke? I need this done, Joker. I don’t have time for your little games.”

Joker’s grin didn’t falter. “Oh, I’m not joking. Trust me, this will be a grand spectacle. We get Batman involved, and the Hood will come crawling out of his hole just to join the fray. It’s like a free-for-all, and everyone loves a good free-for-all.”

Sionis’s eyes narrowed. 

“And what if Batman doesn’t show? Or worse, what if they both decide to focus on you?”, you spoke up, not wanting to see another one of Sionis’ fits. 

Joker chuckled. “Then we get a front-row seat to the greatest showdown Gotham has ever seen. Either way, the plan is to ensure that your problem, Red Hood, becomes nonexistent—preferably permanently.”

You leaned back in your chair, considering the chaos Joker was proposing. “Alright, assuming this works and we draw out the Hood. What’s the plan for getting rid of him?”

“Ah, that’s where the real artistry comes in,” Joker said, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We’ll set up a little stage for our confrontation—somewhere dramatic, like an old warehouse. And when the time’s right, we’ll make sure the Hood gets a front-row seat to his own demise.”

Sionis ran a hand over his mouth, clearly stressed with Joker’s plan. 

“All I need is a couple of explosives, maybe find a good bank to rob just to draw him out a little. Something unexpected but also predictable. It’ll bring him out for sure.”

“We don’t have time or money to waste on a stupid bank robbery! I need him to come out and I need you to kill him. That’s what I paid your bond for, not to play dress up!”, Sionis slammed his fist on the table, finally snapping as Joker staring at him with a deadpan face as he picked at his nails. 

“You’re irritable today.”

“I’m losing more money every minute this son of a bitch is out on the street, so yes. I am irritable today. Everyday!”, the clipped sound of his tone made it obvious that Sionis was over Joker’s antics, but you couldn’t care less. If anyone deserved to be toyed with it was Sionis, especially him. 

“Take it easy, I got it under control.”, and suddenly Joker smiled like he got a new thought into his delusional mind. “It’ll be fun”

“I want someone’s head on my wall and it’s either gonna be the Red headed bastard or yours. If this doesn’t work I’m sawing your fucking head off.”, a ringing echoed through the room as Sionis stood to his feet, walking out of the room as some of his guards followed him out. 

The silence left you a bit uneasy, but it was the Joker who left you on edge more than anything else. The rest of the guards stepped outside, leaving only two inside the room as you watched Joker play with the materials on Sionis’ desk. You wondered for a split second what could have made Joker be so inhuman, so out of touch, so… psychotic. You’d always heard stories about his lack of care or empathy, or any regular human thinking. He was too far gone, more so than any other criminal within Gotham or other cities. He was one of the heavy hitters, one of the most dangerous. If you didn’t work with Penguin and be under his protection, you would fear him a little more than you did now. 

Still, caution was never overdone when it came to people like him. 

“So, do you think this plan will actually help lure him out?”, you knew where he was, but that wasn’t information for you to share. Not like you would have anyway. 

“I think it’ll get him motivated.”, Joker leaned back in his chair, his movements staying controlled as he looked at the ceiling. “Besides, the bank robbery isn’t the only thing that will get him out.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “What else then? Using Batman?”

“No, I have a trip down memory lane planned for us, something that will surely make him feel… nostalgic.”.

Nostalgia… 

What did he mean?

“Going back to old practices?”, you started to feel on edge, but covered it with indifference and annoyance. Though the annoyance was actually peeking through with every mysterious, open ended phrase he said. It made you want to punch him in the face. 

“No, I want to talk about our estranged relationship. I miss when he and I could play around and talk about life. I had my fun with him before, I think we’re over due for a reunion. It’ll be time for round two.”

“Round two?”, that piqued your interest, his entire spiel did. “You’ve gone head to head with him before?”

“We met for the first time maybe…. Five? No, six years ago. He wasn’t this stupid Hood character back then, but let me say, he had no originality back then either. He just stole someone else’s suit like now and made it his own.”

“Maybe he just likes to be a copycat. Can’t blame him, it’s easy to take over once someone is out of the picture. Reinventing the villain, you know.”, you rolled your eyes, annoyed that you were even entertaining him like this. Though a part of you wanted to know how exactly Joker and Red had met before. Was Red the reason Joker got put into Arkham?

“Reinventing is so boring. At least now it’s fun because I can kill him again!”

“Again?”, your brows furrowed. Joker.. killed Red?

Some of you found it hard to believe, another part wouldn’t believe it because if Red died, he would be about six feet under, not parading around the streets of Gotham looking to kill Joker. 

“I killed him once before but it was far more fun then. Didn’t even know it was him until I realized he was also going after the Bats!”

“If he’s supposed to be dead, how is he alive?”, you mocked. 

“I don’t know how he’s alive, but it doesn’t matter. He won’t be that way much longer.”

You crossed your arms, still looking at him from where he sat before turning and looking out the window at the city. 

“So, how did you kill him?”, you asked more out of genuine curiosity than care but still wanted to know more about Red. What you could from anyone that wasn’t him. 

“I blew him up!”, Joker’s hands made an exploding motion before he leaned forward and laughed. “Oh, I tied him up and beat him with a crowbar. He just laid there and took it like a champ! I must say it was boring, wish he would have fought a little more but hey, it was a fun party.”

“Was this before you were imprisoned in Arkham?”

“Wayyy before.”, he smiled at you with a maniacal smile before grabbing a pencil and messing with it. “I think it was around spring time, maybe April. Oh but it was snowing so who’s to say if it was actually in April.”

April… 

You looked at him, the tiniest sliver of realization clicking in your head. 

Six years ago…. April…

“So what, did he go by the Crimson Helmet or something stupid?”, you leaned on the desk slightly as you watched him, slowly losing patience in him and the conversation. 

“No, it was something funnier, like an animal or something.”

You raised an eyebrow at him . This man truly was delusional; he couldn't even remember the name of someone who’d given him this much trouble before. You rolled your eyes, finally getting away from the maniac and heading home.

“What was it…”, he muttered to himself. You pushed yourself off the desk, annoyed with the conversation as you walked towards the door, his words still ringing out. You wanted to sleep. You’d been here all night with them and this had gotten nowhere. Not to mention the rain was about to come down for the third time this week and you did not want to get caught in the rain again. 

“Rabbit… Rocket…”, he continued.

As you reached for the door, Joker stood in realization, his voice ripping through the silence as he laughed. You turned to look at him as he ran hands through his messy green hair and sucked in deep breaths to keep up with his laughter. Your hand was about to open the door before his voice forced you to pause. 

“I remember!”, he raised his voice. “He went by the Boy Blunder. The Bat’s little sidekick!”

You froze. 

Cold water dousing your skin, ice running through your veins. You felt the pit of your stomach drop as his words echoed within the walls of the room. Your heart was pounding in your chest, you felt your vision get hazy, your ears ringing in shock and disbelief as you slowly turned to look at Joker. He was still standing, his hands still through his hair as he walked over to the window and looking out. 

“Oh I remember, his bones cracked and he couldn’t talk, I’m guessing from all the blood in his collapsed lung and I broke a few ribs. He was far more rude than the first Boy Blunder, at least he had some manners.”

You felt the knife in your gut twist more with every word. The sinking realization flooding your body. The roof, the necklace, the earrings, the painting, the endless times he’d move you out of getting hurt, the way he refused to make any hit that would result in serious injury, the way he knew things about you that you’d never told him, after months…it all clicked. 

“You.. killed Batman’s sidekick?”

Joker’s wicked smile spread over his face, the skin stretching in a macabre and frightening way as he recalled the events of that night in the warehouse.

“Yes.”, he said in a dark, evil tone as his laugh cracked through the silence of the room. “And I can’t wait to do it again.”

A/N:

Hi everyone! I hope you've all had a great week and have had a good summer so far! Here is the next chapter! It's finally getting towards the ending, I think we have a handful of chapters before the series ends! Don't worry, I'm making sure it wraps up nicely!

Also I am also working on another mini series! Its a Jujutsu Kaisen mini series thats Sukuna x Reader so check that out if you like JJK!

Please keep the comments and messages coming, I love hearing from you guys!

See you next week xx.

[urdepressedslut]

Crush

♡ Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: Natasha can’t help but admire you, and now she wants you to see her more than just a friend.

♡ Warnings: fluff, sexual tension, mentions of slight bullying/harassment

Italics are flashbacks

Part 2

It was known by most that Natasha kept to herself, not wanting to burden anyone with feelings and emotions. She was kind and friendly but kept her distance with most.

Then there was you.

She wasn't sure why she felt so safe around you. She couldn't understand how you held some sort of power, making her want to lower her walls around you.

She wasn't one to seek out someone and cry into their arms, but she wanted you to be that someone.

She remembers the day that you had gotten her attention.

—————————❀—————————

Natasha was making her way to Steve to discuss an upcoming mission, when she heard loud bickering coming from the training room.

Suddenly curious, she entered the room quietly, her eyes spotting a male agent, and you.

The male agent was just another agent, but you she knew lots about. She was impressed with your résumé, already earning her respect from how well you could manage yourself out in the field.

It was the tone the man was yelling at you that had Natasha frowning, How could anyone disrespect you?

“You gonna finally tell me?” The man asked, sliding off some of the weight plates off your bar.

Huffing in annoyance, you tried your best to ignore his presence altogether. But he was doing a damn good job pissing you off.

“Tell you what?” you asked, hoping that if you answered his offensive questions, he’d leave.

“Gonna tell me who you slept with to get your position?” He stated, your eyes widening in shock at his bluntness.

“What the hell—“

“Come on, someone like you doesn’t just get special treatment handed to you. Who’d you blow?” He snapped, giving the bar a shove, making you stumble backwards.

“I didn’t do anything. I’m just good at my job.” you told him confidently.

Natasha watched from afar, stopping herself from stepping in, she knew you could handle yourself.

“Bullshit. It’s Rogers isn’t it? Maybe Barnes… You doing Widow?” He asked, way too close for comfort.

Natasha perked up at her name, watching your face contort into rage. Within a second, the bar was dropped, and you had slammed your knee into the mans crotch, making him fall to his knees groaning.

Natasha held back her chuckle, smirking at the way the man was submitted to you on his knees.

“Don’t talk about them like that.” You spat, gathering your shirt and walking away from him.

Natasha watched your hips sway as you strutted off, she didn’t know it was possible to respect you even more than she had.

—————————❀—————————

From that day on, she began talking with you more. Making up excuses to talk with you, so she could learn every little thing about you.

She thought it was respect that pulled her to you, but she figured out quite quickly that she admired you, and it ran deeper than you just being a good agent.

As silly as it sounded to her, she couldn’t deny that she had a little crush on you.

Natasha wasn’t sure how she ended up in her current position, but you were with her so she wasn’t complaining.

Your fingers smoothed the gel mask down on Natasha’s face, making sure it was secured.

“This is supposed to help with what again?” Natasha asked you, not minding the cooling effect the mask was causing.

“Uh…” You trailed off, reaching for the ripped packet, “Minimize pores.”

Natasha nodded her head, watching your eyes do a final once over her face, and swore she saw your eyes linger on her lips a little too long.

“All done. Now we wait 15 minutes, then we take it off and rinse.” You told her, poking your own mask, making sure it was still in place.

“Great. What do you wanna do for 15 minutes?” Natasha asked, leaning back on your bed.

“We could watch Supernatural?” You suggested and she rolled her eyes and chuckled.

“We always watch Supernatural.” She replied, watching you jut your lip out in a pout.

“Please?” You begged, and Natasha’s stomach did a flip with the way you were looking at her. She couldn’t say no to you.

“Fine.” She gave up, scooting back to the headboard, you shuffling next to her, thighs touching.

The show was playing, but Natasha couldn’t focus on the episode with your soft thigh brushing against hers, and she couldn’t help herself when she moved her hand on top of your thigh.

She felt you tense up for a brief moment before moving further into the touch, and Natasha’s heart melted.

She decided to keep testing the waters, as she started to rub her thumb up and down your thigh, noticing goosebumps form on the flesh.

You had forgotten about the episodes plot, now fully aware of Natasha’s warm hand on your now burning skin. You felt your heart in your throat, your belly tingling with excitement.

You couldn’t help but wonder why this friendly gesture felt extremely intimate.

You shook your head, trying to focus back on the show.

Natasha watched from the corner of her eye as you swallowed nervously. She smirked to herself, wondering if it was really her that was affecting you. Feeling confident, Natasha gripped your thigh firmly and squeezed. The tips of her fingers becoming too close to your inner thighs, you let out a gasp.

You shot your hand down, gripping Natasha’s wrist and she kept her hand still.

“Nat? What are you doing?” You began, your breathing shallow.

“What do you mean?” She played dumb, asking innocently.

You saw her eyes trying to hide mischief, but you knew Natasha better than anyone. Even if she was the black widow, you could still find a way to read her.

“You know what I mean, why are you so touchy?” You questioned, even though you hadn’t seemed to mind it all that much. In fact, her touches had seemed to make you suddenly frustrated. Parts of your body burning with need.

“We’re friends, friends touch each other. Right?” She told you, and you understood what she was saying, but a part of you didn’t like the label she had used.

“Yeah… Friends.” You agreed hesitantly.

Natasha watched you answer with hesitation and wondered if you felt the same about her.

“Actually, I don’t wanna be friends.” Natasha pondered, rubbing her thumb up and down over your skin again, your hand releasing her wrist from your tight grip.

“No? Why?” You muttered, eyes flicking down to her plump lips.

Natasha leaned in, switching her gaze back and fourth from your lips to your eyes.

“Maybe I want to be more than just a friend.” She whispered, and you felt your whole body shutter at her dark, husky voice.

Just the thought of Natasha wanting you, had your body shutting down, mind going blank.

“Y-Yeah?” You stuttered, feeling nervous under her intense gaze. A tingling sensation forming between your legs.

With another squeeze to your thigh, Natasha licked her lips, leaning in closer until your noses were touching.

“Yeah.” She purred.

She leaned in ever so slowly, your heart pounding, pupils blown out in lust, barely grazing her lips with yours…

“Time to take the mask off.” She announced, pulling away. She smirked at the way your face was stuck in a state of shock. Pupils still blown, cheeks flushed.

She had barely touched you and you were already putty in her hands, she couldn’t wait to see how you reacted when she finally had all of you.

[adamstnheights]

Second Chances - Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader

Summary: Ever since your unit merged with Task Force 141 one year ago, your dynamic with Ghost had been confusing to the others. At first, it just seemed like the two of you didn’t get along. Then, it was clear that you and Ghost didn’t like each other at all. But in the last couple of months, Soap has noticed a shift. Sometimes he catches you staring at Ghost during briefings, with some sort of a sparkle in your eye. He notices the way Ghost moves to position himself between you and someone who might not be trustworthy. He sees how you rush to Ghost’s side when he’s injured in combat and the way you whisper reassuring things to him as you tie a bandage around his wound. Surely… something must have happened between the two of you, right? Soap decides to find out for himself.

Content: Reader uses she/her pronouns, Hurt/Comfort, Past relationship, Angsty flashback where Ghost is kind of really mean, Ghost not feeling like he deserves love, Near death experiences, Angst with a happy ending, Supportive bestie Soap, Talking about feelings, Making up, Reassurance, Soft Ghost

Word Count: 5.5k

Soap finally finds out the deal with you two during a night out drinking with the rest of the crew. You weren’t there, because you weren’t really one for drinks, but surprisingly, Ghost was also absent. He never would get as rowdy and excited from a night out as the rest of the guys did, but he’d usually never pass up drinks. Soap wondered if he was with you.

Soap thought back to earlier that day at training, how he noticed Ghost’s hand on the small of your back. With his other hand, he had patted you on the shoulder in a more friendly ‘Good job’ way, but the way his other hand brushed along down your back was certainly something different. Soap had stared wide-eyed from across the workout room, unashamedly, because he knew both of you were too caught up in the other to even notice. And he needed to commit all of his evidence to memory, anyways. Now, as he looked around at the table, conveniently missing both you and the lieutenant, Soap thought he might as well ask the question—see if he’s crazy for the things he’d noticed recently.

“So… er, anyone know what the deal is with Y/N and Ghost?” He asked.

Soap thought there’d be laughter or at least some smiles amongst the group, because there was absolutely no way that only he had picked up on the ways Ghost’s edge would soften around you. It seemed like a right opportunity for the rest of the guys to tease Ghost for acting all soft and sweet, but instead, the group fell silent.

“What the—um, did I say something wrong?” Soap scrambled. “I mean, come on, there’s no way I’m the only one who sees the way they make ‘fuck me’ eyes at each other during training, right?”

Gaz almost choked on his drink. Everyone else at the table looked over at Price. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“They— Uh— Look, you know the Lieutenant doesn’t like his shit being talked about,” Price said lowly, “But I think everyone here must have some idea of what their deal is… Well, they used to be together. Together together, probably about five or six years. The both of em were in the army for years, just in different units and such. But a… near death experience really got him fucked up. And around that same time, Y/N had been talking about getting married, but however jumbled up Ghost’s brain’d got from what happened—he said no. Told her they couldn’t get married because… for some reason he was absolutely convinced that he’d get killed in action and he didn’t want to hurt her like that. As if breaking things off with her wasn’t a million times more hurtful. And things were manageable when they were in different units, but two years back, her squad merged with ours, as you know. I think they were forced to confront what had happened. It’s fuckin’ obvious that Ghost’s feelings haven’t changed ’bout her. I’m sure he knows what he did was a mistake—he just doesn’t know how to admit it. They basically act like they’re married anyways, or at least, still together. It’s ridiculous.”

Soap couldn’t believe it. He’d seen Ghost make some poor decisions on the battlefield before, and the way he would always refuse to get medical attention after a particularly hard mission annoyed Soap to no end, but saying no to getting married to you was certainly the stupidest thing he’s done—Soap now knew that for sure. His heart broke just a little more for the secretive couple; the sweet, fleeting moments he’d caught between them now seemed even more bittersweet knowing their history. He wondered how on fucking Earth you’d put up with him for the past two years, seeing him practically every day you were on active duty. You were a strong woman for not punching Ghost in the face for what he’d done; Soap was greatly considering leaving the bar, finding wherever the fuck the lieutenant went, and doing just that.

“Fuckin’ Jesus… And… she’s just okay with that? And with being around him all the time after that? I would have requested a fuckin’ transfer the moment I realized,” Soap fumed, anger rising in his chest on behalf of you.

“I think…” Price stopped for a moment, really thinking about it. His mouth formed a somber smile and he turned more towards Soap. “I think she would rather see him every day, even if it hurts, just to have the reassurance that he’s alive and well.”

“What a right fuckin’ bastard,” Soap cursed. 

———

When the group returned to base, Soap passed by Ghost’s room on the way to his own. The door was closed, as always, and he couldn’t hear anything coming from the other side. It looked dark, except for a bit of dim light shining through the crack under the door, leading Soap to believe he was probably in there. He always betted on the Lieutenant living off of only an hour of sleep a night. Maybe he was just laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling like the strange fucker he was.

Soap slipped into his own room, hanging up his jacket in the closet. He hesitated, only for a brief moment, before stepping back out into the hallway and making his way over to the other side of the building, where your room was. Unlike Ghost’s eerily quiet room, soft music could be heard from the other side of your door as Soap approached. He knocked.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“Jus’ me,” Soap announced, knowing his accent was enough for you to know who it was.

You turned the music off and unlocked the door, opening it. 

“Hey, Johnny,” you smiled, moving aside to let him in. “Weren’t you and the guys out at the bar? D’you want to use one of my face masks again?” Whenever Soap got drunk, he enjoyed raiding your skincare collection. The last time he’d stumbled into your room after a night of drinking, Ghost had walked by your room as well (now Soap knew why he was stopping by) and saw you and Soap putting the scented, damp masks on your faces. Ghost had shook his head and mumbled something about the two of you looking ridiculous, to which Soap had said that they actually looked a lot like him! (Hey, L.T., there’s even little eye holes in this thing, kind of like your mask!)

Soap shook his head, much more sober than any of the nights that he came by for his silly shenanigans. The ride home thinking about your and Ghost’s history certainly sobered him up a lot. He knew it was truly none of his business, but the two of you had become so close over the years, Soap almost felt offended that you’d never told him before.

“Not this time,” he said softly, “I, er, wanted to talk to you, a’tually.”

You suddenly became serious, not knowing what he’d want to talk about. Was something wrong?

“Of course, what’s going on?”

Soap sighed. There was no easy way to ease into the subject. “Price told us about you and Ghost. I’m sorry, I know it’s none of my business, but I pried and and we were all kind of drunk and he told us.”

“Oh.” You choked out quietly. “Right. I mean— He… everything?”

“Mostly,” Soap replied, “About you two being together for a long time before… and then something happened with Ghost and he pulled back from you… and him saying no—” You buried your head in your hands, a small whimper leaving your lips. Soap shut up and went to sit next to you on the edge of the bed, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he said.

When you dropped your hands from your face, your eyes were shiny with tears, and a few had run down your cheeks. You wiped them off with your sleeve quickly, looking at Soap with a pathetic smile. “I knew you were looking at us weird the other day,” you said, “When we were in the hallway talking, and you came up behind us and gave me a look… I didn’t know what you were thinking… I didn’t know if you’d seen the way I was looking at him.”

“Can I ask you something blunt?” Soap asked slowly, unsure if he should even be asking at all. You nodded. “Why… why’re you acting all civil ’round ’im? I mean… how can you stand to be around him after what happened?”

You remember back to what was the beginning of the end.

———

He’d been captured and tortured—almost to death—for a week before 141 found him. Price had called you the moment Simon was loaded into the ambulance, and you had rushed off of the base you were on to the hospital. You were in a different unit, so you had no idea what kind of a mission 141 had been on or what had happened. Even Price didn’t know everything—only Simon knew what happened in that torture chamber, and even then, a lot of it was lost from memory since he had faded in and out of consciousness. All Price had told you was that he was tortured (but that he was a good soldier, he didn’t give up any information) and that it was all too close. Simon had a fair amount of violent exchanges under his belt, more than you could count. But you could tell from the somberness in his voice that this time, it was really too close. You’d shuddered at the reality that Simon could have died. You’d pushed past everyone else and ran into the hospital room where he was.

He was groggy, mostly unconscious. He was hooked up to a heart monitor, slowly beating. You’d run to kneel at the side of the bed, resting your forehead on his arm. You were sobbing. Simon was awake enough to realize your presence, but he could barely move. His body was riddled with stab wounds, his skin was still stained with dirt and blood. As much as he yearned to sit up and hold you, he also wanted to push you away, not allow you to see him like that. He didn’t want you to cry. He didn’t want to feel helpless lying there while you worried. Somehow, he felt painfully guilty as you stayed in the hospital room with him without question, leaning against your jacket to fall asleep in a chair placed next to his bed.

Of course, Simon had insisted he go home the moment the doctor said it could be allowed—not a second later. You tried to convince him to schedule an appointment for physical therapy and he refused. You mistakenly suggested he take some time off, since the mission was over and he wasn’t actively on duty. He also refused. He said if something came up the next day, he needed to be available to go. You chalked up his refusal to Simon just being Ghost. You knew that side of him, the side that refused help and pushed on, past the pain. What you didn’t know was that laying in that hospital bed for almost two weeks created some kind of ugly rage inside of him, a mix of self-preservation and selfishness and self-sabotage. The moment the two of you got back to your apartment, he was different.

You knew damn well not to baby him, but you just thought that getting some take out from his favorite place would help him feel better, after having to put up with the hospital food and all. You suggested it, and Simon only grumbled and retreated to your room. You assumed he wanted to shower and get changed. After an hour passed, you pushed open the door to see him lying on the bed, back towards the door.

By the next month, his initial coldness seemed to wash away. He was seemingly back to normal, cuddling and kissing you in the mornings and cracking his usual jokes. But deep down, Simon still felt unusually gross. He felt disgusted by himself. He hadn’t felt that way in years, not since he met you. Now, he was having nightmares about being held up in that cell, taunted and stabbed and starved. Over the years, you’d coaxed him to open up to you about any nightmares he may have, any sadness or anger that may be creeping in. But this time, somehow, was different to him. He didn’t want to let you in to what he endured. He didn’t want you to be stuck with him and all of his burdens anymore. So, he would do what he did best: put on a facade.

Another two months passed by and soon it was your six year anniversary. You’d suggested setting up the dining room all fancy, since Simon wasn’t one to go out to eat. You lit candles and used your fancy plates and you put on an outfit you were saving for a special occasion. He had been quieter than usual, but you understood completely. You couldn’t imagine what he had gone through. You would try to get him to open up about his feelings another day. All you wanted was for him to feel loved on such a special day. You did most of the talking at dinner, and you began rambling about how much you love him and how you were grateful for him. As you became more emotional and sentimental, you felt as though it was the perfect time to bring something up. Nothing final or definite, necessarily. But it was something you and Simon had talked about before.

“...And maybe one day soon, we could think about really settling down…you know?” You’d looked up at him with wide, eager eyes, but met with an unfamiliar, blank look. A cold silence filled the room for an uncomfortable amount of time. Simon’s chest tightened. He didn’t want to do this, but he had to.

“What? Are you askin’ me to marry you?” He sounded more angry than excited, and it made your stomach turn.

“I— I mean—” you began to falter, “I don’t have a ring or anything, no, but I mean, before you left a couple months ago we were talking about maybe getting married, and I just thought—”

“That was a long time ago,” Simon said.

You blinked. “So, what, you’re saying… you’ve changed your mind?” Tears began stinging your eyes.

“I’m saying that a lot of shit has happened since then,” he practically spat. You know what he meant, that the last mission—the torture—was going to weigh on him for a while; hell, it would probably affect him for the rest of his life. You weren’t one to expect trauma to be pushed to the side, simply “gotten over.” But you didn’t think it would take him away from you. You thought that you could be there for him, to support him, for the rest of your lives.

“So… what, y–you don’t want to be with me?” You choked out, desperate for him to just say what he meant.

“I don’t think we should get married.” Simon paused, looking down at the table. “And… I don’t think you should be with me.”

You froze. You’d heard him say that before, many times before actually, but it never had that much edge to it. He would say it quietly, when he was feeling self-conscious or sad and thought that he didn’t deserve you, and you would rub circles on his back and kiss him slowly and tell him how much you love him until he felt better. Before, it was a cry for help, a way for him to tell you that he needed your reassurance. But this time, it was a statement, a demand.

“You— You don’t mean that,” you tried to rationalize what he was saying. But Simon was too good; he didn’t break. He shook his head and even though you saw tears run down his cheek he was still being so mean.

“I’m only going to hurt you,” he pushed, “You shouldn’t be with me.” The stitches in his side were hurting him.

He was hurting you, he was right about that. You wanted to let out the sobs that were rising powerfully in your throat, but unlike every time before where Simon would hold you and soothe you, he definitely wouldn’t this time. So you choked back the sobs in an attempt to look slightly composed.

“Are you… asking me or telling me?” You asked.

“You’ll move on,” he continued, as if you hadn’t said anything, “You’ll be okay.” You hated him for not being able to just say the words I’m breaking up with you. But you understood the message loud and clear.

“Simon—” you cried out, desperately, asking him for anything more to work with.

“I think I should take a walk, get some air,” he said quietly, getting up from the table.

“Please don’t do this,” you begged. “We can– We can talk about this more, a–and work something out!”

“I don’t want… I don’t want to raise my voice or yell, love. Please… just let me go.”

You let him walk out of the front door. You had to hold yourself back from shoving everything off of the table. You cried and sobbed into your hands and curled up into a ball. Everything had changed.

Then, just like he predicted, Task Force 141 called him back onto base two days later. He didn’t even say goodbye but you heard him trudging out the door with his military bags that morning. When you got out of bed, you saw he left an envelope of cash on the dining room table. ‘Please take care of yourself,’ he had written on the envelope. You’d wanted so badly to hate him, but you couldn’t.

———

“I love him, Johnny,” you replied simply. Soap looked at you, almost in disbelief, but after observing you and Ghost for the past couple of months, he fully believed you. You continued, “And that’s not to say that we’ve always acted this way. For the first year or so afterwards, it was dead silence. We were in different units anyways, and after we split up I wouldn’t have been able to even see his face. But then our units were combined and I just had to accept it. It was almost easy to pretend like nothing happened. I just focused on my work and if I needed to address him, I only called him ‘Lieutenant.’ I was able to push back my feelings for almost a year and a half. But then I found him one night in the common area some months ago. He always had trouble sleeping, and I just kind of stood next to him and leaned against him. I thought he would shove me away, but he didn’t. There was…some kind of understanding. We kind of just started acting like we were together again, like nothing ever happened. It felt right, it felt natural to slip back into old habits. You know Simon’s not a man of many words, and I’m too scared to ask him what he’s thinking. I’m scared of driving him away again. He’s here, he lets me care about him and for him, and that’s really all I could ask for.” Soap coughed to stop himself from saying Bullshite.

“Well why don’t ’cha then?” Soap inquired, “Ask him, I mean. Force ’im to actually communicate for once. You deserve to get some sort’a closure, sweetheart. Truly, I mean, when Price told us about how it went down, I thought’a comin’ back to base and beating the shite out of him for being such a bastard.”

You sighed. Soap was right—nothing would ever come of this unless you took the initiative.

“I mean… What the fuck am I supposed to say?” You asked, breathing out heavily.

“Tell ’im exactly what you’re thinkin, how you’re feelin,” Soap said simply. “Somethin’ tells me that he’s probably thinking the same exact thing you are, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly, shaking your head and looking down at your feet. “I just… he just… didn’t want me anymore.”

“That’s what he told you,” Soap said, “Not necessarily what he really meant.”

“How do you know?”

“Jus’ do,” Soap smiled, “I promise ya that he’s never looked at anyone the way he looks at you. Price even said that you two already act like you’re married anyways.” You smiled halfheartedly.

“I doubt he wants that anymore,” you whispered, “I… I don’t even know…”

“It’s okay not to know everything right now,” Soap gave you an encouraging nod, “But if you still feel the same way about Ghost, and God knows he still feels the same way ’bout you, then what’s the harm in talkin’? It already looks like you’ve rekindled a lot, so if anythin’, you two only gotta make it official by putting your feelings out there. You’re allowed to ask for what you want.”

You nodded slowly, as if you were trying to convince yourself that it would work. Your mind flashed back to every fleeting moment you’d had with Simon since that one late night together, and you know, even if it’s hard to believe, that he still cares about you. Maybe he even still loves you. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked.

“Okay. I’ll talk to him, then,” you decided. Soap smiled.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, anything.”

Soap broke out into a grin. “So… what does he look like?” You snorted and punched his arm.

———

Later that night, you snuck off into the dining area to get a glass of water. The barracks were practically dead silent, as most of the other men who came back shitfaced were soundly sleeping. As if, somehow, Simon had overheard your and Soap’s conversation earlier, you found him standing by an open window in the common area. Almost exactly like the night you fell back into his arms.

“Hi,” you whispered, standing right up next to him, your sides touching. You looked out into the night sky, too, at the stars he’d been staring at.

“Hey yourself,” Simon replied softly.

He had a thick, black sweater on, along with his normal work pants and boots. He was wearing an all black balaclava. You missed buying him new ones for his birthday; sometimes you would try to get him to wear a different colored one, and he would oblige once or twice because, well, it was you. You also missed being able to see the locks of dirty blonde hair that the balaclava covered. Sure, you’d seen him full-faced multiple times over the past months. It was one of the ways that you knew he still trusted you. Maybe he didn’t like you anymore, but he trusted you. Some nights, you let him into your room when he couldn’t sleep, and you barely had to exchange any words. You’d lift up your blanket and he’d crawl right next to you. You’d tug at the balaclava gently and he’d take it off himself, letting you wrap your arms around him and massage your fingers into his scalp. It helped him fall asleep without fail. It looked like tonight was another one of those nights.

“Can’t sleep?” You offered.

Simon shook his head, still looking out the window. “Negative.” You smiled. He was always so formal.

You both stood there in silence for a few minutes, the wind outside blowing fresh, cool air into the room. The proximity of your bodies made your face flush. Simon reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He opened it and held it out to you, first. You could almost cry. Simon, ever the sweet gentleman, despite the reputation he made for himself, or the way he was convinced he was as a person. You took a cigarette out and placed it between your lips. He leaned closer to you, partially shielding you from the breeze coming from the window as he lit your cigarette.

After you took a drag, you held it out to Simon. He looked at you, through you, for what felt like the longest split-second, before taking it in between his two fingers and taking a drag himself. He blew out the smoke towards the open window. You tried to get yourself preoccupied with the stars in the sky again. He passed the cigarette back to you.

“They know about us,” you finally said, looking straight ahead of you.

There was a beat, but he didn’t flinch or make a sound. He turned his head to look at you. “Who, Price?”

“Not just him. Everyone knows now. Soap was the last one to find out, tonight.”

“Fuckin’ Johnny…” Simon sighed, his eyes not leaving you. You had to muster up the courage to turn and look back. “You okay? Did he say anything to you?”

“He told me to… ask for what I want,” you spoke slowly. Simon’s gaze was intense but concerned. You put the cigarette out on the brick of the windowsill, hands trembling.

“And… what is it that you want?” He asked, suddenly and somehow much closer to you.

“I want… you.” You turned to face him, nervous to make eye contact.

Simon laughed softly. His hand grasped the side of your arm gently and trailed down to hold your hand. “You already have me, love.”

You swallowed hard and took a step back from him. Your hand dropping from Simon’s left his hand cold and his eyes darted around your face, trying desperately to read it. You shook your head. “No,” you said, “Not like this. I don’t want any more of this sneaking around. I don’t want you like this, like we’re just trying to forget everything that happened, everything that we’ve been through. I don’t want this in-between limbo shit where I don’t even know what you’re thinking! I want you, truly, fully, a hundred percent. Like… like we used to be.”

Simon winced and he was grateful most of his face was covered by the balaclava. He knew you weren’t spitting at him, but he knew that you were implying that he was the one to have ruined it all. He was the reason there was a way things used to be. He thought about it every day. How he was the one to pull back from you, under the guise of protecting you, but he knew even then that it was bullshit. He was scared of himself, of hurting you, of possibly being responsible for hurting you. And—

“Simon?”

Your gentle touch to his arm brought him out of his mind. He looked down at you, your eyes were shiny with tears but you gave him a sweet smile. It only broke him more. “Say something,” you pleaded softly.

“Fuckin’ hell… I– I’m so sorry for everything. I mean it.” His own eyes were now brimming with tears.

“I don’t want to lose you again. I have you back in my life again and I’m so grateful, but we’ve just been dancing around it for the past two years, and I can’t—”

“You have me, I promise,” Simon reassured you. “Look, I ran away from you, from us, because I was a coward and couldn’t deal with my own feelings. I feel like— I felt like I just hurt everyone around me. And I don’t want to hurt you, so I thought that’s what I was supposed to do but I was stupid.”

“I thought you… didn’t want me anymore,” you whispered to the ground. “You were shutting me out, Simon.”

“Fuck, every day I was without you, I regretted everything I did and said. I wish I could go back and change it, be a little braver and hold your hand a little tighter and tell you that we would get through it together. I… If I’m being honest, I felt so out of control after 141 rescued me. The torture and all of that shit made me feel like the most useless person on Earth and I felt embarrassed that you still wanted to be by my side afterwards. I almost died. That was the closest call I’ve ever had in my life and it was fuckin’ scary. And I just thought about when I came home and saw my mum and Tommy and… the reality set in that you could come home one day and I’d be dead and I’d have hurt you. And… in my mind, family is a curse. If you’re my family, you get hurt. By me, inevitably. If you’re tied to me, you get killed because I’m too useless to save you in time. And marriage would mean that you would be tied to me. And my mind just— I couldn’t do that to you. In the hospital I’d have nightmares that you were the one being tortured instead of me. I convinced myself that you needed to get away from me, far away. So I gritted my teeth and I was mean to you and I was so fuckin’ horrible and I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself. But I never… I never didn’t want you. I just thought… you’d be better off with someone else.”

You stared up into his eyes. His black eye paint was completely smudged by tears and he was almost trembling as you held his hands tightly.

“I’m not better off with someone else,” you shook your head. You leaned up and gently wiped away his tears with your pointer finger. The paint smudged onto you, and more of Simon’s skin was exposed to you. “I only want you. I want to be with you through everything, even the shit. I wanted to… after what happened… I wanted to help you. I wanted to be the one you could turn to. I don’t want to give up on this, on us.”

“I— I love you,” Simon whispered so softly, like if he said it too loud he would somehow ruin everything. “I never stopped.”

“I love you, too,” you broke into a smile, breathless, as he leaned down to bump his forehead against yours.

“Marry me.”

You almost choked. “Simon, come on, don’t be silly.”

“I’m not,” he said firmly. “Marry me. Like we always said we would. Before I was a fuckin’ bastard to you. You don’t have to answer now, but I promise, I’ll spend the rest of our lives makin’ it up to you. Please?”

You felt like you were going to cry, you were so overwhelmed. Your composure broke and you let out a laugh and then a cry, falling forward into Simon’s arms. He held you tightly, resting his head against yours. He rubbed circles on your back and you clung to him, as if you might lose him again in an instant.

“You’re okay, love,” he whispered, “I’m here. I’m not leaving you ever again.”

Simon brought two fingers to your chin, slowly tilting your head upwards, inches away from his. It was as if the world stopped. You’d kissed him before, since joining 141. One night when he was lying in bed next to you, and you were both on your sides, facing each other, you had slowly inched closer and closer until his slow breath was tickling your face. His eyes were closed but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. You’d nuzzled your nose against his and his eyes fluttered open, a small smile spreading across his face looking at you. He’d leaned in slowly, brushing his lips against yours. Your lips had moved against his, slowly and sweetly. And when you pulled away, he had smiled and held you close until the two of you fell asleep.

You’ve kissed him many times, quiet and sweetly, but it was always cautious. You weren’t sure if you were crossing a boundary or setting yourself up. Now, as his fingers cupped your chin gently and you looked up at him, you felt nothing less than confident as you leaned up and tugged the balaclava up over his nose. He smiled and leaned down as you leaned up and your lips met his. You melted into him and his other hand held your waist. His hands were shaky; he was nervous he may break you with all the love he had for you.

Breathless, you pulled away, your foreheads still touching. Your arms were wrapped around the back of his neck, toying at the back of the balaclava. Simon raised his eyebrow slightly, smiling down at you.

“My room?” You asked, a light playfulness in your tone.

For once, Simon felt like he could let out a sigh of relief. He had you back in his arms, a hundred percent this time. He held your hand, small in his, and squeezed. It would take work—every relationship does—but he was ready for it, the talking, the vulnerability, the opening back up, if it was you. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again.

“Yeah, love, your room,” he said lowly, “But not for sleepin’ this time, yeah?” He smirked and pinched your waist.

“Don’t get too cocky, Riley,” you cooed, yanking the balaclava back down over his chin, earning a laugh from him. You grabbed his hand and pulled him behind you.

Simon smiled. “Lead the way.”

[maddogofshimano]

The Value of Lies: Majima Boss Rush

Mild spoilers for Y0

A new Majima event! They added a few new cards alongside it

I had a moment of “huh, why’s Shimano from 1985 and not 1988? that’s too late for the YK2 flashback--oh NO............ during Majima’s torture in the Hole????” 

anyways, Shimano is not in the event. sorry to the Shimano stans

Summary: 6 months into Majima’s stint as manager of the Grand, he’s still chasing after as much profit as he can and has scouted a new batch of hostesses. One of them seems lackluster, but there’s more to her than meets the eye...

[Half a year after Majima Goro had began working as the manager of the Cabaret Grand.] [The Grand's revenue had been steadily rising, but was still nowhere near the desired amount-- For the sake of further profits, Majima was aggressively scouting other clubs to refine his own business...]

<door opens, Majima walks in> Majima: ...Sawabe. How'd the new girls do today? (tl note: The name is 沢辺 which is pretty much just Sawabe or Sawanabe)

Grand Employee Sawabe: ...They seem to be doing reasonably well, the customers who like inexperienced girls have been asking for them. Majima: I see. Any gals seem like a standout?

Sawabe: I don't know about a standout, all of them have something special... except for one. Majima: ...Except one? What's goin' on with that?

Sawabe: ...There was one who just didn't seem very motivated. Her name is Arisa. Sawabe: But it's my job to make girls like that useful, so I've been trying to provide lessons. Majima: That's true. I appreciate the help. With how the number of customers keep goin' up, I'll take all the help I can get. Majima: Unfortunately I still gotta be out of the club, so you're my only hope for trainin' the girls here. Sawabe: Please leave it to me. Sawabe: I know that people are the same as water, if left alone they'll settle in low places.

Sawabe: I'll manage the new girls diligently, and make sure they're trained well. Majima: Please see that you do. Majima: ...And just to be sure, ya ain't gonna fall for some of the girls you're teaching and get handsy, right? Sawabe: ...Absolutely not. I could never allow my family to be on the street because I broke one of the club's rules.

[two weeks later...]

<the door opens, Majima enters> Majima: ...I'm back. How'd thing's go, and how were today's sales... huh? (tl note: TWO WEEKS DUDE???)

Sawabe: Ah, welcome back, manager. (tl note: oh okay Majima didn't walk in on hanky panky. my bad. sorry for doubting you Sawabe) New Girl Arisa: ...Well, I'm going back to the floor. Majima: ...Was that Arisa you were just talking to? Sawabe: Yes sir. She just lost her parents. But she still comes to work and does her training because she didn't want to miss any days... Sawabe: So I hear her out when she has difficult feelings that she can't express to the customers. Majima: .........I see. Sawabe: At first I thought she just wasn't motivated at all... I even scolded her a few times before realizing this was the case--she just couldn't get into the right headspace with all that sadness. Majima: ...And ya believe that? Sawabe: Huh? O-Of course. There was nothing to indicate she was lying. Majima: Gotcha. Majima: Seein' as she's havin' such a hard time, I ought to talk with her. <out on the floor> Majima: ...Arisa-chan. Ya got a minute?

Arisa: Yes? Can I help you with something? Majima: If you're makin' a play at Sawabe, it'd be best if ya stopped. Arisa: Huh? What are you talking about? I'm not making a play... Majima: ...Heh, I'm just sayin'. Majima: If ya have any troubles I'm also someone ya can come talk to. Arisa: Umm... Th-Thank you. If you'll excuse me. <she leaves> Majima: ............

[another 2 weeks later]

Sawabe: I'm sorry, Arisa. We can only meet up after everyone has already left. (tl note: I RETRACT MY PREVIOUS APOLOGY. SAWABE YOUR FAMILY!!!!!!!!)

Arisa: No, don't apologize. I'm the one asking unreasonable things... I know we can't let anyone find out about this. Arisa: Besides, I would be happy being anywhere with you, Sawabe-san. Sawabe: Arisa... Arisa: ...Still... The manager isn't going to be back today, right? Sawabe: Yep, he said he was heading straight home. Arisa: So then... it's really just the two of us. Sawabe: Yeah, just us two. .....But, is it alright if I do a bit of work first? Sawabe: It's the last day of the month, so I need to get our sales money so it can be transferred to the bank tomorrow. (tl note: Sawabe if you flake to go fuck a hostess and Majima gets the shit beaten out of him I'm going to throttle you on his behalf) Arisa: Okay, I can wait 🎵 Sawabe: I'm sorry. I'll get it done quick. <she leaves> Sawabe: Now then just gotta get the money out of the safe... <he opens it> Sawabe: ...Hmm? Oh, Arisa must have needed to use the restroom. Now then... huh!!?? <a bunch of goons rush in> Arisa: Sawabe-san. Thanks so much for opening the safe 🎵  ....Now I'll be taking allll the money in it.

Sawabe: Wh-... What the hell's going on? <a goon punches him> Sawabe: Guh... <he drops> Brawny Thug: That dumbass was a good mark for this... Have a nice nap. Arisa: Soooo cool 🎵 Thug's Pal: Hehe... Now we just stuff all this cash into the bag.

???: ...I went to all the trouble of warning you. Arisa: !? Majima: I already told ya, "If you're makin' a play at Sawabe, it'd be best if ya stopped".

Arisa: Wh-Why's the manager... Majima: I noticed ya gettin' awful cozy with Sawabe a little while ago. Majima: So I started doin' a little diggin' and figured out your plan. Had to be gettin' some thugs to rob the safe with ya--your parents aren't dead, your little brother doesn't exist, all ya've been doin' since ya got here is lying and cheatin' people outta money. Arisa: .......... Majima: And on top of trickin' Sawabe, here ya are tryin' to clean us out, which is a much bigger issue. Thug: Well... Even if all of that is true, how do you expect to get yourself out of this situation now? Thug: I don't see any cops around... Don't tell me you plan on handling this all by yourself? Majima: ...Of course I plan to. Thug: The hell? Are you mocking me! <goons rush in> Thug: That's just fine!! If you can do it, go ahead!!!!

<EVENT HAPPENS>

Brawny Thug: N-... No way...

<he collapses> Arisa: ...! <Majima walks over> Majima: ...We're done here.

<he kneels down> Majima: Hey, can you stand? Sawabe: Ugh... S-Sorry... <they're both back to standing> Majima: Don't worry. I'll let ya off easy this time, since I knew what was happenin'. Think ya'll get tricked again? Sawabe: Th-Thank you so much...! Nothing like this will ever happen again...! Sawabe: But... I really didn't think Arisa would do something like this... Arisa: I'm sorry Sawabe-san, Majima-san... That thug was threatening me... that's why I... Sawabe: Eh...!? Majima: ...Are ya that stupid. Now I know ya ain't the kinda guy for this. On the other hand, you were the one that was trickin' that man, ain't ya? Sawabe: Eh... Wh-What do you mean? Arisa: ...Haa, I messed up. That guy said he was a former pro boxer, but he was way too weak.

Sawabe: A-Arisa... you... Arisa: I guess I can't fool you. Are you going to hand me over to the police? Majima: Heh, that's surprisingly upstandin' of ya. Majima: However, I ain't handin' ya over to the cops. Arisa: ...Huh? Majima: There's no profit to be made in that. Majima: I'd rather have ya work at the Grand again. Arisa: Work at the Grand...? Majima: Exactly. Of course, if ya run off or play hooky then I'll throw ya to the cops without mercy.

Majima: And you'll have to make yourself a diligent hostess and work hard--I'll forget about this whole thing if ya become a girl that earns more than ya were gonna steal from this safe. Arisa: ....... Majima: ...What d'ya say? Arisa: I will... return to working at the Grand. Majima: Heh, that settles it. Arisa: Sawabe-san... I'm sorry for deceiving you. I'll do my best from here on out. Sawabe: H-Hold on a minute, boss! I-Is that really okay? Even after all this... Majima: Mhm. Sawabe: I know I was the one who got scammed, so it might not mean much from me, but still... Arisa-chan has the worst sales out of the whole club.

Sawabe: And then she tried to rob us, so, is it really okay to hire that girl...? Majima: It's true that her sales were bad, but that's cause she was half-assin' it. Majima: You experienced first hand just how good she is at this, didn't you? Sawabe: ........... Majima: To keep up a deception like that, ya need all sorts of skills. Majima: You're much warier than most, but she still got her fingers on your purse strings-- Majima: Seein' that you're a very doubting person, she used a lie about her parents' death to get ya sympathetic-- Majima: Two weeks or so of keepin' up that lie, playin' the part of the girl ya'd want, all with the goal of slowly foolin' ya-- Majima: Even with the risk of "If I lose my job my family will be out on the street" ya still caved. Majima: Gettin' someone ya just met's guard down, gettin' them to open their wallet, lying to find out more about them-- Majima: And of course, keepin' up the lie so the person you're talkin' with doesn't catch on... Majima: To me, those are the ideal skills for a hostess. Majima: If she approached our guests with the same diligence that she went after you, I have no doubt that Arisa would be our number one. Majima: In order to make 100 million yen in sales, even though there's a risk, I'm not going to let a profitable woman like her go. Sawabe: ...You may be right, boss. Majima: Whew... Well, I'll see ya tomorrow, but... try not to get scammed again, okay? Sawabe: ...Y-Yes sir.

[Afterwards, when Arisa resumed working at the Grand, things went exactly as Majima predicted. With her ability to see through her customers and her skillful lies, she had one man after another captivated by her. Seeking to become the Grand's number one hostess, she has risen to the very top.]

<EVENT END>

Bonus stuff:

unrelated to this event they released a White Day Kiryu where he awkwardly gives you a return gift. I’m not even making fun of him that’s literally what the title of his card is

Ichiban got one too where he bashfully gives you a senbei

and then not a White Day card but still a guy giving a gift, we got a new KSR 1995 Nishiki

something I didn’t notice until looking through Nishiki’s cards is that they give a date on Nishiki’s new hairdo

ONE YEAR??? NISHIKI YOU ONLY HELD OUT A YEAR??????? it was Christmas in 1995 too so depending on when in 1996 this is it could be even less time. it does make it a kind of cartoonishly awful year for him to have experienced though, if you condense all of the flashbacks into that span. that’s rough buddy

enjoy him looking so sad and dejected (he failed to beat up Haruka)

[cookie-crumblr]

Hype Train!

F!Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 4~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2 3 4 5

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: WHOLE PART IS NSFW, !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, pet names not from ML (doll, ), SA!! NOT BY ML, assaults, NON CON NOT BY ML, Murder, gore, possibly angsty?, fingering, p in v, pet names (pretty, good girl, pretty girl, ) creampie, praise, lots of consent checks! long azz smut, probably my favorite work so far…👉👈

“Thank you all for coming again!!! I had so much fun tonight! we’re gonna stream again tomorrow and if not then the next day I promise!!! See y’all later and shower this next person with love!!!” You type out a raid message for everyone to copy, and click raid now.

You sigh as you take off your headset.

At least you feel tired enough to sleep now.

*loud knocking*

“C’mon!!! Seriously??” You know who it is before you even answer.

“Hello, Jared.” your voice is deadpanned and your expression unimpressed.

Although… You haven’t had a good fuck in a while…

Not that Jared is a “good” fuck. He’s at least got the equipment for the job.

“Doll, you know, I’ve been thinking about you again, just let me in to explain,” He says seriously and tries to push past you to inside your apartment.

You immediately block his path. “Excuse you. I don’t care what you’re thinking about. And I was gonna let you in, but now that you just tried to barge your way in, I’ve changed my mind. Get out of here.” You slam the door hard toward the frame.

His hand comes up, “Listen to me, bitch. I said I was thinking about you. Listen to my explanation.” He demands, his foot in the way of the blue painted wood.

Your heart races… No. Not this again.

You didn’t even notice at first the smell of it on his breath.

He’s been drinking.

You aren’t surprised or disappointed.

You are however, afraid.

“N-no… I-I don’t have to listen to you. Not now, not ever.” you remain firm. “Leave, o-or I’ll… Call the cops.”

“Hah. Like that’ll save you, doll.” He pushes the door open and throws you against a wall.

Your skull hits it with a loud *THUD*

shit, shit, shit, SHIT!

what do you do?!

Your cat runs and hides under the bed in the other room.

Thank goodness, at least Opal won’t get hurt by this maniac.

You struggle and put up as much of a fight as possible, but he over powers your every attemp.

You eventually just stop.

You turn your face, he pulls you back.

You squeeze your lips shut, he slams your head back so you gasp and let his tongue violate you.

He strips you, and throws your body, stomach down, onto the couch.

You try and crawl away, and he just pulls you back.

“No! PLEASE!!!!!” You cry out, your voice not even sounding like your own anymore.

Flashbacks to your time in the pit resurface again, forcing their way into your head while he forces his way into your body.

You cry and plead, he just punches and bites you where ever he can.

All you can do is cry now.

“Bite the pillow, bitch!” he yells into your ear.

You wake maybe thirty minutes later with his weight on top of you.

You manage to roll out while he’s in his drunken coma.

You hope while you’re at work he just… leaves…

He usually does.

The shower you take doesn’t help you feel any cleaner.

Tears don’t even threaten your numb body anymore. You’re embraced once more by the hollow feeling you’ve gotten accustomed to.

Do you even remember feeling safe only a day ago?

It feels like it was simply a dream at this point.

Jasper opens the unlocked door you left and sees the naked man on your couch.

His pupils once again blown with a familiar rage.

He drops his bag loudly onto the ground.

The man sits up, covering his exposed lower half “Who the fuck are you? You, freak! Get out!” He yells.

Jasper reaches into his pocket, pulling out a syringe.

“W-what the fuck man, what is that?!”

Jasper steps forward, and Jared jumps up to meet him.

“Get away! Freak! I’m warning you!” Jared lunges, knocking the syringe from his hands

Jasper then kicks his legs out from under him.

He falls to his knees, seeing the syringe near the coffee table, he reaches for it.

Jasper stomps down onto his veiny hand, breaking bones.

He screams, “WHAT THE FUCK?! Who the HELL do you think you-”

His sentence is cut off as Jasper crunches his hand, grinding it under his boot. “AHHHHH!!! OOWWW F-FUCK!!”

He grasps his scalp with fist fulls of sandy blonde hair next, and hovers it up over the corner of the coffee table.

Jared tries to pry the black boot off of his hand, as his eyes widen in fear looking at the metal edges.

“What the FUCK man!!!! This isn’t a joke! STOP!!”

Jasper smiles grimly, leaning down closer to him, “Oh, you want ME to stop? What about Y/N? Didn’t she ask you that?” he hums sinisterly.

“Th-That’s different! chicks always say-” he’s cut off again.

“Say what? Say No?” He barks out a cruel and unforgiving laugh.

He’s tired of this animals voice.

“Bite the metal, bitch.” He slams his face repeatedly into the corner of the table.

He gurgles and coughs, as his face swiftly becomes a bloodied, unrecognizable pulp.

You sigh. Climbing the stairs grudgingly.

You threw up at work again and they forced you to go home.

You’re so emotionally stressed, your body has started to try and rid you of it physically again.

You hear something strange, but you can’t yet tell what it is. You’re too worried how your gonna pay for next months “protection” and make the rent on time…

Your door isn’t locked still. No point, you thought.

Jared leaves it unlocked after he leaves anyway.

At least he doesn’t have a key.

The noises are coming from inside your appartment though… Is he… Hurting Opal??? You burst through the door, “Jare-” Your eyes widen, as you study the unknown man hovering over a bloodied Jared…

You go to scream, and Jasper rushes at you covering your mouth with his hand.

“Wait! Y/N!”

You’re trembling, but you recognize him by his voice now.

He removes his hand, and you speak quietly, “Jasper?”

You slowly close the door behind you…

“W-what is…” You don’t need to finish that, you know what’s happening.

“Wait! Y/N, I’m not… uhg… I didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” he doesn’t move anymore toward you, he just looks over the body.

He’s not attacking you.

Your brow furrows, maybe you don’t know…?

“What are… You doing? why? I’m so…” confused, but you can’t speak anymore, before tears start falling again.

Jasper wraps his arms around your shaking form, in a loving embrace, not like one of someone that wants more.

You squeeze back… You don’t know why, or how, but you know he doesn’t mean you harm.

“Jasper, whatever you’re doing, please stop… You’re.. Going to get into so much trouble for… This, a-and I’m not worth the trouble…” You shakily push through the tears.

He holds you tighter. “You are, Y/N, you are.”

“You don’t understand, I’m in a lot of deep shit right now… People are… after me. People are using me. People are-”

He kisses you.

Nobody’s ever tried to protect you before.

How did he even get here?

Maybe one of the questions you should be worried about…

How did he know where you are? Is another.

But your too overcome with emotion to think any rational thoughts right now.

Your arms travel upward, twisting around Jasper’s neck.

He picks you up by your sides, your legs hook around his waist.

He carries you to your bedroom, and lays you gently on the bed.

You’re still crying, and you continue to embrace him.

His hands wander down to your crotch, he pulls away to look into your eyes, “May I?”

Through blurry eyes you nod, and push forward to kiss him again, harder than he did.

His lips push back into yours, he sighs through his nose.

His fingers hook under your panties and pull them down your legs.

You help kick them off.

He finds your slit and slowly strokes up and down, covering his fingers in your slick.

You moan into him, nothing has ever felt this good, and he hasn’t even started.

You might come already…

Your legs snap shut, locking his hand in place.

He pulls his face back again, studying yours, “It’s okay, just relax, and let it out, pretty…” he coos, his face burying into your neck now.

You shiver, feeling his tongue and his hot breath against your skin.

He smells so nice.

like fresh air.

You slowly try and relax your legs, opening just enough for him to move again.

He tweaks your sensitive bud.

“Mmmm!” You bite your lips hard, your brows so tight together your face almost hurts. You’re holding your breath too and you don’t even notice until your lungs burn.

“shhh. Shhhh, it’s okay. It’s okay,” he shushes you sweetly. “You’ll be okay. let it all out, f’me”

“J-Jas-perrr…” Your body quakes with your first orgasm.

Nobody’s ever made you come before. It’s almost painful it feels so good.

Your legs snap shut again, and he chuckles quietly. “There, there, Y/N, you did so good, you’re such a good girl,” you feel his smile against your neck. “Can i have my hand back though? I need to do this for you, I wont be able to fit, and I don’t want to hurt you,”

You relax as much as you can, straining yourself as you do. He waits patiently, smiling as you try. you manage to open wider for him than last time, your body still shaking.

From the orgasm yes, and also from fear.

Not from fear of him…

You’re just…

Afraid.

You feel so safe right now, you actually feel fear. You’re terrified. and you don’t know exactly what of.

Maybe you’re afraid of letting your guard down for the first time.

Tears are streaming down your face more rapidly now.

You choke out sobs, “Jas-per… Jas…p-per…”

“Shhhh shhhh, it’s okay, i promise, it’ll be okay, pretty, pretty girl.” His thumb oh so gently circles your clit, barely touching you, he can tell how sensitive you are and doesn’t want to overwhelm you.

He kisses your neck, and dips a finger into your quivering hole. You fight the urge to once again, snap your legs shut, instead trying to spread wider.

“That’s it, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” he kisses you again, even more gently than the last time. “I’m so proud of you,”

You’re biting your lips harder, as more and more tears and sobs leave your body.

He very slowly dips another finger in.

Even after last night the stretch is hard to take at first.

You draw blood from your lips, and his other hand leaves your body to find your mouth, “here, bite me ‘nstead, pretty. I don’t wanna see you hurting’.”

You clench your teeth before you give in, you don’t want to hurt him either, so you instead use your hand to angle his fingers to your lips… You start to suck gently.

“haaaaa” he sighs so contently into your neck, the air tickles and you smile around him. You actually smile!

“I’m so, so proud of you, you’re doing so well,” his voice never raising more than a soft whisper.

Your hair is soaked with your tears now, and your wetting the pillow.

“hmmm” you hum, sucking and licking his fingers.

His other ones remain occupied gently scissoring your open.

Your body shakes as you come again.

“mm-mmmm!”

“That’s it, that’s a good girl, come f’me again, pretty,”

You open wider still, his thumb pulls away so you can come down without over stimulating you, while his fingers continue to work you’re tender quim.

Your brows peak and you squeeze your eyes shut.

He pulls completely away from you, and licks the fingers that where just inside you.

“Here” he says softly, “lemme help you, one second, pretty,” he rips the bottom of his shirt, pulling around his torso.

The sound scares you a little, but you trust him.

“May I?” he hovers it in front of your face looking deep into your eyes for your permission again.

And again, you nod, a little more eagerly this time.

He gently ties the black fabric around your eyes, careful not to pull your hair, or get it stuck in the knot.

You strangely feel more comfortable and your legs relax more easily now.

Your eyes also relax, and you sigh out, You breathe better surprisingly.

“I’m going t’ touch you again, okay?” He waits for you to nod before running just the tips of his fingers all the way up your legs.

They slowly caress you going up to the hem of your shirt, and you feel them tug gently. “m‘kay, pretty, I’m gonna take this off of you too, will you let me see you?”

You ferociously nod this time, trying not to but your lip, remembering before.

“so precious, thank you, pretty…” He slides the fabric slowly up, his fingertips still brushing against your soft skin.

He takes it off of you without touching the blindfold.

You still have a bra, and a skirt on. “W-wait!” you speak up, and he halts completely, a little surprised, but not at all upset.

You sit up so that you can reach behind you and unhook the bra. You cover yourself as you remove it, and your face heats up as it sets in that you’re willingly exposing yourself to someone.

“You’re wonderful,” he whispers awestruck, “So very wonderful. Will you let me look at you?”

Slowly you nod your head, and slowly you remove one hand, then the second. Your fists are clutched so tightly your knuckles have turned white. You turn your head, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, c’mere,” he gently takes your chin into his hand and turns your face back to him, his lips capture yours.

The love he feels pours freely into your soul.

One hand now cups your bare breast, and massages you tenderly.

“mm,” quiet moans leave your body for his.

He continues to kiss you and fondle your skin, his fingers move further up and stop to pinch your nipple.

“Mmm!” you’re surprised by the feeling but it’s so good… Your core heats up to extreme levels.

You rub your legs together this time for more friction, rather than to hide.

He pulls back with a smile. “You’re so perfect.” he says breathily, enraptured by you.

The hand under your chin moves back down ghosting over your body so you know at all times where it’s at.

“Haaaa” Your body twitches as he moves over some spots. “mM!”

“shhhhh, shhhhh, it’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna make everything all alright.” his already soft voice gets even softer with every one of his guarantees.

“O-mmm!-kay” you breathe out effortlessly, finding your voice, and still feeling the pleasure building in your core.

His fingers split into a “v” as they encase your clit and push down, then close slowly as they slide back up with the same force.

Your hips buck up, “Ahh!! mmmm! oh no! no…” you whine.

His smile softens, “do you want me to stop?”

“No! P-please… D-don’t…” you shake your head and grab his arm with both hands.

He dips back inside of you before dragging them all the way back up and he repeats this until you climax again.

You shudder out a sigh, “Th-thank youu…” You whimper.

“Thank you, pretty, you’re givin’ me s’much”

He repositions you both so that your legs fall on either side of him.

You feel him lift your thighs and press them not too uncomfortably closer to your body.

“I’m going to enter you now, is that okay?”

You nod vigorously, “Mmhm! p-please…” You cover your lips with your hands, he lets you, smiling as he admires your every move.

You feel his hot, spongey tip press against your hole. You brace. then he slides it up your slit, before he taps it to your clit. You jump a little and smile back while biting your lip gently this time.

“Good, you’re doin’ s’good f’me” his hips roll, sliding his burning cock up and down your folds.

Your hole twitches around nothing as you come again, as you do he guides the tip into you with an almost *pop*

You inhale while he exhales, both moaning at the sudden sensation.

You squeeze him as your pussy twitches involuntarily. He holds himself there, and presses his hand to your stomach, resting his thumb over your clit.

As you come down he rubs in circles, he slides in at the same time, letting you adjust to his size as he goes.

He bottoms out and you feel fuller than you ever have in your life. “Such a good, good girl.” his voice is a little more strained now, he’s feeling the pleasure just like you are.

His tip kisses your womb.

Gently he pulls out a little bit, before pushing back in, kissing your womb again.

“I’m-gonna cum inside you. Do you want that?” he circles your clit at an even pace.

“Mhm!”

“Use.. Your words, pretty,” he sighs blissfully.

“P-please, Jasper! Cum inside me!” You’ve never wanted anyone to until today. And you want it right now more than anything else in the world.

“Of course, I’ll—fill you up, pretty” He leans down over you and grabs the headboard for more stability.

You feel that he’s closer to you and you reach up blindly to hold him as best you can.

He starts a steady and easy pace to follow, you meet every thrust with your hips.

Every time he enters the pressure against your insides turns hotter and hotter, spinning a coil inside you so tightly you see stars.

He speeds up when he feels you can handle it, and slows down when you get too high.

His dick twitches inside of you and he presses the hardest he has into you yet, you come more powerfully than all the times leading up to this and you cry out his name, “Jasper! oh! oh my, Jasper! Jasper!”

He continues to thrust in a couple more times until you feel his body shudder and your womb is filled to the brim.

“Jas-per! Jas-!” His lips crash against yours he holds the headboard with both hands now, regaining his senses while he remains inside you.

“I love you, Y/N”

[ezziefae]

Thoughts while reading The Prisoners Throne Excerpt

Here's a rushed annotation of some parts of the excerpt that really drew my attention. Jurdan fans be ready for many surprises.

"Imagine you have a weapon. They had been in Vivi’s second apartment, standing on a small metal balcony. Inside, Taryn and Vivi had been fussing over Leander, who was learning to crawl. The Ghost had asked about Oak’s training and been uninterested in the excuse that he was eleven, had to go to school, and couldn’t be swinging around a longsword in the common space of the lawn without neighbors getting worried."

(this is a flashback) Taryn’s child makes their first debut!! Taryn named the boy Leander. (I’m assuming its a boy name) Since the Ghost is in Vivi’s apartments could that be a hint that he’s romantically involved with Taryn? Or it could also be that he’s accompanied Taryn to protect her. It's super cool to see The Ghost and Oak training together.

"Oak had actually liked making his own sword. It was huge and black with a bright red hilt covered in demonish faces. It looked like the sword of someone in an anime he’d been watching, and he felt like a badass, holding it in his hands. The sight of Oak’s blade had made the Ghost smile, but he didn’t laugh. Instead, he started moving through a series of exercises, urging Oak to follow. He told the prince should call him by his non‑spy name, Garrett, since they were friends."

Love that Holly is still referencing anime in the Elfhame series. Can we also talk about The Ghost’s character development? In TFOTA series he always kept to himself, and now he’s letting his closest friends call him by his real name.

"The prince has been imprisoned three weeks, according to the tallies he’s made in the dust beneath the lone bench. Long enough to dwell on every mistake he has made on his ill‑fated quest."

THREE WEEKS??? What the heck have Jude and Cardan been doing for three weeks??? I honestly expected for him to be rescued asap. If anything Jude and Cardan have been carefully planning to save oak and I guess that takes a lot of time. 

"His family must be in a panic right now. He trusts that Tiernan got Madoc to Elfhame safely, no matter what the redcap general wanted. But Jude would be furious with Tiernan for leaving Oak behind and even angrier with Madoc, if she guesses just how much of this is his fault."

I really want to see someone from Elfhame’s POV on Jude finding out on Oak being taken prisoner by Wren. I want to see a raging Jude. I’d be terrified to be in Tiernan’s place, since it was his job to protect Oak, and he failed that.

"Possibly Cardan would be relieved to be rid of Oak, but that wouldn’t stop Jude from making a plan to get him back. Jude has been ruthless on Oak’s behalf before, but this is the first time it’s scared him. Wren is dangerous. She is not someone to cross. Neither of them are."

OHH??? OHHH???? So many things are thrown at us here. Oak has a reason to believe that Cardan doesn’t like him??? To the point where Oak believes Cardan would even be RELIEVED to get rid of him? That was SUPER unexpected. Oak finally takes it in that neither Wren or Jude are people to cross. As much as I hate saying this, I want a Jude and Wren fight. That would be amazing. Not saying I want either of them to die, or get hurt, but that would be an intense scene. 

“I can do better,” he says. “And perhaps you might bring me a little gossip to cheer the chilly monotony of my days.” “You’re very silly, Your Highness,” she says after a moment, biting her bottom lip a little.

Oak is using his most dangerous power, seduction. Screaming. 

"He remembers Oriana’s warning to him when he was a child. A power like the one you have is dangerous, she said. You can know what other people most want to hear. Say those things, and they will not only want to listen to you. They will come to want you above all other things. The love that a gancanagh inspires—some may pine away for desire of it. Others will carve the gancanagh to pieces to be sure no one else has it."

I'm so glad holly is diving deep into this, We know that Locke also had this power, and how he was wielding it in TFOTA series. 

"That night, he wakes to the sight of a snake crawling down the wall, its black metal body jeweled and glittering. A forked emerald tongue tastes the air at regular intervals, like a metronome. It startles him badly enough for him to back up against the bars, the iron hot against his shoulders. He has seen creatures like it before, forged by the great smiths of Faerie. Valuable and dangerous. The paranoid thought comes to him that poison would be one straightforward way to solve the problem of his being held by an enemy of Elfhame. If he were dead, there’d be no reason to pay a ransom."

Oak sees this snake, and he immediately thinks it was sent from elfhame to kill him. Which is insane for him to believe that. 

"He doesn’t think his sister would allow it, but there are those who might risk going around her. Grima Mog, the new grand general, would know exactly where to find the prince, having served the Court of Teeth herself. Grima Mog might look forward to the war it would start. And, of course, she answered to Cardan as much as Jude."

"Not to mention there was always the possibility that Cardan convinced Jude that Oak was a danger to them both."

WHAT IS THIS DISAPPROVAL CARDAN HAS ON OAK?? The fact that Oak believes Cardan sent the snake to KILL HIMM, that's absolute madness. Like what the helll did this man do to Oak to make him feel this way?? Cryingggg. 

"It yawns widely enough for him to see silver fangs. The links of its body move, and a ring comes up from its throat, clanging to the floor. He leans down and lifts it. A gold ring with a deep blue stone, scuffed with wear. His ring, a present from his mother on his thirteenth birthday and left behind on his dresser because it no longer fit his finger. Proof that this creature was sent from Elfhame. Proof that he was supposed to trust it."

THIS IS THE RING THAT'S ON THE COVER!! Now we know what the ring means to Oak!!

“Prinss,” it says. “In three daysssss, you mussss be ready for resssss‑cue.” “Rescue?” Not here to poison him, then. The snake just stares with its cold, glittering eyes.

Okay so Jude sent a snake as a messenger to Oak, to let him know that they're coming to save him in three days. Cool….coool.

“Give me longer,” he says, no matter that it’s ridiculous to negotiate with a metal snake and even more ridiculous to negotiate for his own imprisonment, just in order to get a chance to speak with someone who refuses to see him. “Two more weeks perhaps. A month.”

THIS STUBBORN BOYYYYYY. Oh I know Jude would be absolutely furious for that.

"Oak slides the ring onto his pinkie finger, watching the snake as it coils its way up the wall. Halfway to the ceiling, he realizes that just because it wasn’t sent to poison him doesn’t mean it wasn’t sent to poison someone."

BIG MISTAKE MISTER SNAKE, BIGGGGG MISTAKEEEE.

He jumps onto the bench and grabs for it, catching the end of its tail. With a tug, it comes off the wall, falling against his body and coiling around his forearm. “Prinsssss,” it hisses. As it opens its mouth to speak, he notes the tiny holes in the points of its silvery fangs. When it does not strike, Oak pries the snake carefully from around his arm. Then, gripping the end of its tail firmly, he slams it down against the stone bench. Hears the cracking of its delicate mechanical parts. A gem flies off. So does a piece of metal. He whips it against the bench again.

Oak really said “oh hell no, you're not killing the women i love, nah uh,” and then proceeds to kill it in a very violent unsettling manner. Everyone was right when they said that Oak was like Madoc.

Straun spits on the floor in front of the prince’s cage. “No amount of gold or gems will save you. If my winter queen wants you to rot here, you’re going to rot.” “Your winter queen?” Oak repeats, unable to stop himself. The falcon looks a little shamefaced and turns to go back to his post. He’s young, Oak realizes. Older than Oak, but not by so very much. Younger than Hyacinthe. It shouldn’t be a surprise that Wren made such an impression on him. It shouldn’t bother Oak, shouldn’t fill him with a ferocious jealousy.

THE JEALOUSY HAS ME CACKLING. He was imprisoned, neglected in his cell by wren and yet he's jealous whenever someone else has lovey dovey eyes for wren. This man is so down for wren, and I don’t blame him. 

The Ghost taught him how to move stealthily, but he’s never been very good at it. He blames his hooves, heavy and hard. They clack at the worst possible times. But he makes an effort, sliding them against the floor to minimize noise.

Super cool to see how much The Ghost has impacted Oak's skills. The court of shadows in general has been a huge part in Oak’s training and it shows.

Oak moves fast, jerking Straun backward and covering his nose and mouth with the cloth. The guard struggles, but inhaling blusher mushroom slows his movements. Oak presses him to the floor until he’s unconscious.

THERE WE GOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

Welp, The excerpt ends in Oak escaping his cell…..after all thar chaos i've become too impatient. Just 3 Months until this book comes out !!! 

[sinisterexaggerator]

Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 14

Explicit: Semi-slow burn, gratuitous smut /pwp, canon-typical violence, mildly dubious consent, angst, Tatooine Slave Culture.

This chapter: Flashbacks / nightmares, whump, mild-medical procedure involving a needle/dispenser and sedatives.

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: It only took me TWO YEARS TO UPDATE. SORRY ABOUT THAT. I promise that I will try to update more regularly from now on.

[ Ao3 ] - [ Masterpost ]

《 Previous chapter || Next chapter 》

“Supposin’ us bein’ partners don’ mean nothin’,” Bane flippantly offered. Though feeling despondent, he masked it well. The two men were a lot alike in that respect; Bane hardly knew what went on inside the Mando’s over-complicated mind.

“You’ve learned everything there is to know, Cad. And what you don’t know, you don’t want to learn, even if given the opportunity.”

“What’s dhat even mean,” the Duros asked bitingly, throwing down the butt of his cigarra on the cold, hard ground. The two began to make their way, Jango sighing under the beskar helmet that hid his face, Bane trudging along behind, albeit slowly; he was freezing.

Vandor was an icy planet, located in the Sloo Sector of the Mid Rim, currently home to a target that had made his home in Fort Ypso, a snowy village that lay sequestered in the foothills of the Iridium mountains, only crossable by bridge. The wooden planks groaned under their feet as the pair of hunters ventured onward, Slave I left beyond its borders so as not to attract attention and give the game away.

“It means you are stubborn,” Fett returned, his voice carrying over the blistering wind. “Perhaps it is time for you to branch out on your own; be your own man. I am beginning to think I cramp your style.”

The Duros sneered, offended in more ways than one, fangs chattering even though he wore specialized gear meant to curtail the cold from leeching through to his very bones. “Says de man who don’ know when te turn down a job; if Ah had nips, dhey’d already be frozen off.”

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Jango informed him, his joke lost on the dour man. He wasn’t in the mood for Bane’s attitude, much less his complaints.

“As fer style, Ah got plenty,  naht countin’ dhis ridiculous ‘fit ye’ made me wear.”

Bane frowned despite himself, feeling each minor movement of his facial muscles; they were stiff from the frigid temperature, the younger man desiring to find a place of warmth. At least his body glove was able to retain some heat, otherwise he was sure to succumb to this positively ridiculous weather within mere minutes, seconds.

“Fine; maybe Ah should leave ye te it dhen; wait in de ship, if yer so keen on gettin’ rid of me.”

Then, his sour expression deepened, Bane’s footfalls ceasing as he came to a full stop. “It’s ‘cause Ah don’ agree with ye, ain’t it.”

“It’s not your life, nor your decision,” the Mandalorian shot back without delay, unable to hide his bitterness. “I know what I want, even if you don’t.”

Bane braced himself, realizing this was about to become more personal than he had bargained for, Fett having never bothered to explain his motives. All Bane knew was he had won some contest, proving he was the best bounty hunter in all the galaxy—a title he assumed might one day rightfully be his.

Fett had trained him, after all. More than that; he had become his friend, his confidant. Bane might go so far as to think he even loved the man, though never voicing those sentiments out loud; he buried them, like everything else he felt.

Perhaps it was fear that kept him quiet. Fear, or maybe anxiety. They both lived in the same place—inside his chest. The chest that currently housed a heart beating furiously behind a wall of ribs, even as Bane reached out to touched Fett’s shoulder.

What he couldn’t understand was why he needed a million of himself; Jango would be tasked to train an army for an unknown benefactor, an army of clones.

The idea sent shivers down Bane’s scales. He understood there were credits to be made, and lots of them. But even so, this was a line Bane himself would never cross—playing God by ignoring ethics, by ignoring quandaries he thought might only come about in science labs. Not in the field; not in the relatively short life of a bounty hunter.

“Ah know what Ah want,” he muttered softly, “de one of ye.”

The Mando whisked around, batting his companion’s hand away. He could not see his face, but Fett’s annoyance easily radiated out beyond his suit of armor. He thought Bane would never understand his hatred for the Jedi; the duty he had assigned himself that consumed half his personality. “Come off it.”

Bane hesitated. The sky began to darken; he thought he had been to this place before.

“You’re a fool,”Fett’s voice, a low baritone, seeped into Bane’s ears, in turn causing the Duros to tremble. It was not out of the coldness of the weather, but the coldness of his words, that Bane’s body involuntarily shuddered, wide, red eyes blinking away flecks of snowflakes as they floated toward the ground; they were gossamer, each one intricate by its own design.

“But Fett-”

“Shut up,” the Mando cut him off. Something wasn’t right. Bane gazed around himself, even as Fett continued. “You really think I care about what you think?”

Bane stared at him, a wounded look taking over his already glum face. Even so, he thought to follow-up, wondering if he had said these words before. “Just dhat-”

Flames were birthed from blankets of white snow, shooting up as pillars of an all-consuming heat, Bane taking a step back as he watched the fire cast a shadow on Jango’s beskar helmet. Those little flecks, those tiny snowflakes, were now tendrils of hot ash, the icy ground nearby the bridge they stood on a carpet of dirt and soot.

“Ja-Jango?” Bane stuttered out; the man approached, deliberate, even as his voice rose in his anger.

“You are nothing to me, Cad. You are nothing.”

The fire blazed more luminous than a main-sequence star; the heavens were black as pitch and no sun shone; Bane heard another sound, this one the creak of weakening ropes as the Duros realized the bridge they stood upon was near to collapse. It was old, rickety, and the only way into town.

“You are not my friend, and you will never be my family,” Fett assured, his vehemence laced with mockery. The Mando laughed, dry, and borderline sadistic; it was out of character for him. Bane grimaced.

“Fett, we gotta go back!” Bane ignored his hurtful remarks, noticing the bridge was starting to sink and give beneath their weight and the onslaught of the flames. The youth would peer over the side, eyes set to broaden as he realized the mountain valley was now nothing but a pit of hellfire.

“You are weak; pathetic; worthless-”

“-stop it!”

“-just a frightened little boy.”

“Enough!” the Duros shouted; he could hear the panic in his voice. He cursed himself, wanting to be brave; wanting to prove to Fett that everything he said was erroneous, inaccurate – but he was right; Bane was frightened.

Suddenly, Bane had nothing below his feet, just a gaping hole and a river of bright flames. Fett was hovering; he had activated the thrusters of his jetpack; Bane aimed to do the same, pressing a button on his wrist gauntlet, except his boots wouldn’t fire; they sputtered and died out.

He kept on falling.

“Jango!” He heard his voice crack, Bane reaching out and up toward the Mando. The man only laughed that wry, cruel laugh, even as Bane fell to what he knew would be his death.

With hands grasping, arms flailing, and legs kicking erratically, Bane yelled one last time as his body was engulfed, swallowed by the void.

“Ah’m sorry!”

---

“Oh, no!” Todo 360 articulated. “I was afraid this might happen!” the droid verbalized in a mild state of panic. He began zooming around the room, peeking into cabinets and pulling out various tools, utensils, and medical implements. It appeared to Zulara that he might be looking for something in particular, so hurried were his movements in his haste.

“Can I help?” she asked quietly, though eager, not sure what was even wrong or what it was she would be looking for. The girl had been seated on the floor, tinkering with one of Bane’s fancy vambraces; it was sparking.

The girl glanced to the bacta pod where Cad Bane slumbered, but something was amiss; his eyelids twitched. She stood, then approached with caution, peering down into the coffin-like contrivance – that’s when she noticed.

The Duros trembled, the muscles of his face distorting into what looked like fear, then pain. His head shifted back and forth from side to side, though not awake. Zulara’s heart ached for the man.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, turning to stare at the frantic Todo. He was too busy in his search to hear her, muttering his many grievances and even a few expletives.

“Todo?” she asked again, the concern apparent in her voice. She stepped forward toward the little droid, tapping him gently on his tiny shoulder.

Todo whirled on her, having forgotten momentarily that she was even aboard the ship, Zulara noting she had startled him by the widening of his citrine eyes.

“Do not do that!” he proclaimed, immediately taking back up the search. Zulara’s lower lip quivered as she turned on her heel, refacing the injured man; he at least seemed calmer now, which Zulara pointed out.

“He’s stopped moving,” she whispered.

Todo zipped on by, a cool rush of air tickling her arm. He observed his master through the glass, a pane of two-inch thick transparisteel.

The droid sighed a human sigh, then rounded on his thrusters. He stared up at the girl, finally managing to find the time to give her a halfhearted story of some kind.

“When in the bacta pod, Bane’s subconscious is left totally unguarded! He is vulnerable to whatever it is his mind can conjure up, and I will have you know these things are not pleasant.”

“He had a nightmare,” Zulara stated, though the end of her phrase had a questioning lilt to it.

Todo nodded in assent, then added: “He has a lot of those, I am afraid.” He wondered if he should be telling all Bane’s secrets. Was this a secret? Nightmares were common among organics. He was unsure.

Zulara frowned at him, then looked down at her boots. She often had nightmares herself, a reoccurring one; the one where she was stripped from her mother’s arms by her drunken father; the one where she was ushered off like chattel into a life of slavery.

Her gaze returned to Todo once she had repressed that bit of sordid memory. “Will he be all right?” she questioned anxiously.

“You are humorous, human. Mister Bane has endured much worse. But I must find this pneumatic dispenser! It holds a sedative we may need; it is only a precaution.”

“You are going to sedate him?” Zulara asked, perplexed.

“Well, it is better than what Bane would do!” Todo scolded, continuing his rummaging. “I, for one, do not wish to suppress my memories, but in all likelihood Bane will hurt himself in this state, and he is already wounded.”

Zulara seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

Todo was becoming irritated. If this woman was not present, he could work in peace! Just who did Boba think he was, leaving her with him! Granted, she seemed to care about his master, but she was still a nuisance! Perhaps the droid was now beginning to understand why Bane called him that on limitless occasions - and when he meant well.

He started to have a change of heart, though his metal shell was empty besides his circuitry; his own thought process set him straight. Todo simply sighed again, though trying to be patient. “Mister Bane seems to think that libations will solve his problems. Why, ever since Boba Fett shot him in the head, he has never been the same!”

Zulara’s frown remained fixated, though deepening. She had heard this mentioned once before as they had dragged Bane inside his ship. Why would the man that had helped to rescue him want him dead instead? It made no sense. She thought to ask, but wondered if the droid would answer her.

Todo seemed two things: high-strung and untrusting, though Zulara’s interest was not self-serving, she was only curious. It was hard not to want to learn all she could about the Duros, his history, and those things that made him tick.

“What happened?” she finally managed, fingers trailing a path down the outside of the convex, transparent glass. “Boba would not tell me how he knew Bane,” she added, studying the curves and angles of the hunter’s face despite the mask he wore that fed him oxygen.

“Because then Boba would be admitting to attempted murder!” the incensed droid piped up, rounding on her. He was flustered by the question, and even more so aggravated by the answer he was about to give. Young Fett was a traitor and a deserter in his opinion; a fly-by-night, disreputable scoundrel to say the very least!

“When one commits to a job, or when one is given a home and specialized training - for free might I add – with only the expectancy of loyalty, and then for that person to defect, to try Mister Bane’s patience after all he did for him!”

Todo scoffed, turning back around. He opened up a lower cabinet, somehow sticking his large head inside, so his words were muffled. “To question his authority is one thing, but to shoot him?!” Todo’s voice was elevated, despite being dampened within the cupboard he was scouring. “Simply because you do not agree with his methods!?”

Zulara watched Todo’s metal chassis shift back and forth as his upper half continued with its plundering, tossing things haphazardly behind him. The girl would lift one leg, dodging something sharp that vibrated—a sonic scalpel? What did Cad Bane need that for?

Zulara bent down to pick it up; she switched it off. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought about the head plate Bane always sported. “So, then Boba betrayed him? He shot him at point-blank range?”

Her thoughts drifted to the man whose comlink was in her pocket. The youthful face, the curly hair, the deep brown eyes – so soft and rich – she could not imagine him to be a killer, yet he was another bounty hunter. A bounty hunter like the Duros she had feelings for, the one who left her, the one who desired her dead for the sand she had thrown into his stark garnet eyes.

“Well, no,” Todo admitted. He had been there, after all, observing it all unfold. “There was a duel. It was a tie-” the little droid emerged to swivel toward her once again, “-but Boba cheated! A Mandalorian’s helmet is made of beskar! And while Boba is no Mandalorian, his -er- father was.”

Todo 360 made an irritated harumph. “A solitary clone should have been grateful to have Mister Bane mentor him! I know I  would be. Of course, he did owe Jango many favors, or so Mister Bane has said…”

His voice trailed off; Zulara realized something. It was no matter that this droid was comprised of ones and zeros, or its many servos. Something clicked inside her brain—Todo had no bolt, no way in which he was restrained. He loved his master, and to some extent, Cad Bane must love him.

She could only imagine this Fett harbored some kind of guilt, as well he should. If she ever saw him, if he ever commed her…yet it was not her business.

Zulara refocused her attention, “a pneumatic dispenser, no?” Her inquiry was soft, calming. Todo perceptibly unwound, as the organic’s voice was somehow soothing.

He was not used to women hanging around; he had only known those that Bane kept on retainer for one reason or another, namely Aurra Sing; she had not one gentle bone in her whole body. In fact, he might blame her for the way young Boba had turned out. While Mister Bane had a hand in it, it was not until he had been abandoned and thrown in prison thanks to the Palliduvan that his master had offered Fett his guidance.

“Yes,” the exhausted droid replied, returning to his work. He kept one eye on her, but he was thankful for the girl’s assistance, however wary. One could never be too careful.

---

“Boba?” Bane had heard the name, floating out in empty space, inside his mind, or spoken by a God. It lingered, the two syllables leeching their way into his cerebral cortex, even as pure darkness surrounded him, enveloping his cold flesh like a thickset, heavy blanket of unease.

His stomach lurched; he felt like throwing up. Instead, he sat upright and was faced with a nearly obscene brightness. Someone had unveiled the stars, but one shown more luminous than all the others; the one that warmed the desert planet he was now stationed on.

“Bane!”

The Duros’ eyes rolled to his left, spying within his hand a bottle of dark liquor, Bane ascertaining this might be the reason for his sickness; the empty feeling that tarried in his guts. But still, nothing was making sense.

Bane dropped the bottle, glancing up. Some distance away was a teenaged Boba Fett.

How many times would the kid shout his name in anger? How many times would he have to remember his father’s face when looking into his? That armor, that helmet – all a cruel reminder.

“You should have been there.”  That’s what the boy had said that fateful day.

Bane stood, gazing out. He was supposed to say something, words that had been repeated time and time again. The outcome would never be any different, he suspected, but the hunter was caught in a web of his own delusions. Maybe this time he could make it right; maybe this time Bane would not lose his self-respect or his dignity to a fourteen-year-old brat.

“Ah wouldn’ be so-” Bane’s voice dropped; he said the rest quietly and to himself, “-hasty now, boy…”

No. This wasn’t at all accurate. This had happened once before. Bane studied his surroundings, noting the placement of the buildings, a fire that burned in the distance, wisps of dark-colored smoke emanating in tight curls.

Fire.

There was a fire.

He had fallen.

Boba turned his head; Bane followed his lead, spying C-21 Highsinger and his faithful droid companion. Held prisoner in their grasp was a white-haired old man. The child - Fett’s offspring - demanded that he be released along with all the other hostages.

What hostages.

“Let them go, Bane.”

What had he done? He could not remember, the Duros craning his hat and head to stare down at both of his blue hands.

“This isn’t their fight anymore.”

Bane knit his brow in thought, his gaze returning to the boy. He took a new approach, or at least he thought. He was unsure, second-guessing, caught in a place that resembled reality, yet Bane was positive none of this was real.

“Yer daddy ain’t here, boy. Ah knowit. But ye gonna go ‘head an’ bite de hand dhat feeds?”

Bane took two steps forward, somehow knowing what came next. He had always wondered if there was some other way than this, something he could have done to change Fett’s mind. But in the end, he had it out for him; it was a part of history that could never be rewritten. Boba had got it in his head that Cad Bane was his enemy, and the sole executioner of the people here, as if he was the only one who was unscrupulous among those present.

“Yer gonna wind up poor, or dead, out on yer own – dhis galaxy is harsh. Ye think Jango was perfect? Ye think he wouldn’ do whateva’ it takes te get de job done?”

“Shut up! I am not my father!” Boba scolded beneath his helmet; Bane ground his teeth as he glared at him, his expression full of venom. Always such an impudent, brazen child.  He hated Jango then – all of them – and his clone army; his poor decision.

“No more innocent people are going to die, or be locked up, or live in fear,” Fett reiterated, brandishing a finger. It was ironic, all this talk, when Boba Fett was supposed to be a bounty hunter.

“Did ye ferget what profession ye’s in? We’re hunters, Boba. Unless ye ain’t one. Maybe yer just soft.”

A poor choice of words, considering the circumstances. Bane was sure he had only made things worse. He did not have the time to contemplate anything beyond that, for Bossk and Embo had arrived.

At least they were fairly trustworthy, the Kyuzo only second to Bane himself. Bossk knew how to take directions, even though he had connections, strong ones, to the Guild. Bane had thought, incorrectly, that they might back him up and take his side, but the blood that ran through Boba’s veins was a testament to his skill and to his mounting leadership, despite his age and stature.

Bane smiled a crooked smile. “Looks like yer lil’ insurrection has failed.”

Boba looked behind himself and to the others; Bane’s smile faltered. He glanced around as the thin shroud separating this world from the next shimmered and disjoined. He saw stars; realspace; a depthless abyss of nothing, like a curtain had been pulled back to reveal the stage, and he was the main character.

“I say we give the kid his shot,” he heard the Trandoshan rasp.

Bane dug his boots into the sandy earth. There was a suction pulling him, like a vacuum, toward a gaping hole that now stretched so wide the entire town was gone. The only thing that remained were the other hunters; Bossk and Embo had stood down, and Boba was rounding on him.

Bane realized they did not seem to be affected; it was like none of this was happening. He knew what he was supposed to say, as if only reciting his own name.

“So, dhat’s it – just ye and me dhen, Boba Fett.”

“I guess it is,”the boy would reply.

Their eyes met, or at least he thought they did. That damned bucket was in the way, Bane mentally cursing its utility – it’s why he hated them – it was a place to hide.

And kark the others; their loyalty was forfeit, Bane reminded of a most important lesson: he was alone, and he always had been. Always would be, save his droid for company.

A sharp wind picked up, yet Bane’s hat did not fly off—not yet. He fought with all his might against an invisible adversary, even as his fingers danced above one LL-30 BlasTech pistol. If he could only be a fraction faster, if he could only put this disgruntled adolescent in his rightful place, his anger, his heartache, his headaches—they all might vanish.

His quick draw was the cause of his notoriety. To be outdone - to lose to a snot-nosed kid - it would be an embarrassment, though highly understated. The only thing he had left to him was his reputation, and Fett was out to steal it from him, albeit fair and square. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – let that happen.

Bane pulled his weapon; he squeezed the trigger. Simultaneously, another shot was fired. Superheated plasma - imbued with an explosive quality - transferred kinetic and thermal force to the armor plating that lined his signature bolero.

It was not enough to stay the bolt; he felt a searing pain on the left side of his head, radiating across his brow and the upper part of his domed skull. He fell back flat, staring up at a now starless, barren sky. He was out of breath, and he thought this is where he ought to die.

Bane would close his eyes, legs stretched out and arms taut at his sides. He had no idea the outcome; that it had been a tie; that Boba Fett had saved himself from his demise by wearing that accursed beskar, yet the young hunter’s aim had not betrayed him.

“Mister Bane!” he would hear his droid call aloud in a worried tone. He had repeated it three times now, though the Duros found he could not move. The only thing he could perceive in this state was a scathing ache; an excruciating, endless throbbing, right where the bolt made contact with his hat and ricocheted.

The plasma had been so hot, so volatile, it had dissolved his scales clean off and scorched him to the bone—the durasteel panel had dented inward before his hat rebounded off his head and fluttered to the ground, molten metal boring easily through flesh and osseous tissue, slowed only partially.

Tears welled behind shut eyelids, as in that moment, he wished the boy had killed him.

---

Zulara, hours later, had traversed Mos Eisley’s streets. She had been looking for something, something good to eat. While she was not hungry, she imagined Bane would be the moment he awoke. The girl had not strayed far in her search for the right ingredients.

She aimed to concoct a Twi’lek dish, though she would modify it. Her palette did not enjoy the fungi that accompanied the rycrit meat. She would add carrots and potatoes, along with various other root vegetables, to cook a hearty stew, a thing to keep Bane’s strength up and paid for with her own meager credits.

Todo had confirmed there was nothing much edible aboard Bane’s ship; she had found out shortly that its name was the Justifier; curious, though she would not mention it. Once they had found the lost dispenser, Zulara made it her new objective to prepare a home-cooked meal for the healing Duros. Perhaps he would be appreciative and would not mind that she was here, doing her best to look out for him.

To think, she could still be napping in Ohnaka’s arms if Fett had not sounded the alarm. It was something more complicated than a mere regret; she did not feel that way. In fact, it pleased her. It had scratched an itch Cad Bane had left behind. Still, she had been hurt, a stupid thing, as the youth had asked how long she had known this man; her answer proved unsatisfactory, even to herself.

Why? Why care? As if his attempt to free her was not enough, though Bane had made her feel things she had never felt before. Maybe Zulara has naïve, a woman with no sense, but what sense could she have considering her circumstances? Some might call it a learning curve, though that did not mean she was not harboring intelligence.  In this case, she was thinking with her heart and not her head, but she could not help it; all she cared for was Bane’s good health.

Zulara absentmindedly stirred a pot; it was something she had located in a cabinet by the conservator. It barely appeared used; she wondered if Bane ever liked to cook, or if his starship had come equipped with those things he needed, whether utilized or not.

Once the rycrit stew was at a simmer, she lowered its heat setting and placed a lid on top of it. With this accomplished, she thought to find Todo and pose another question: where was there a workroom, a space with tools? She had it in her mind to fix Bane’s gauntlet, wanting to feel useful.

Now, just where had that droid gone off to?

---

Glowing embers of crimson red bothered to open up again as Cad’s body began to move of its own volition.

No – it was the wind, that suction. It had gained momentum; it was stronger, rolling him like a tumbleweed toward the open maw of nothing!

The hat went first, vanishing beyond the veil. Bane grimaced as he dug his fingers into the pliant earth. There was no stopping it, head pounding as his legs thrashed violently. He was like a fish out of water, surrounded by only grit and sand. Death, once more, seemed imminent.

The Duros panicked.

---

Zulara heard a crash, like something falling. She rushed back to where Bane rested, Todo’s mental state in a disarray as he had dropped something. Her eyes traveled toward the pod; Bane was seizing. The girl would gasp as she ran for the tank at lightspeed.

It wasn’t that the droid was clumsy, he had simply moved too quickly. Seeing his master at the mercy of his nightmares had drawn out all his worry; it must have been preprogrammed, but by who was an unsolved mystery—unless it was Vertseth Automata. Surely, Bane would have preferred a model with more strengths than weaknesses, but he had his purpose. Currently, it was to act as nurse, though he was not one; he had been built for techo-service.

By the time Todo arrived, Zulara had already pried open the bacta pod. Bane was coughing, sputtering, even while unconscious. The girl tried lifting him, cupping his upper back as he broached the surface; the sticky gel still held him, her face strained with the effort, though Zulara kept him aloft, fighting the weakness of her arms—Bane was too heavy for her alone.

“Todo, do something!” she pleaded, though she needn’t ask. The droid had readied the dispenser that housed the sedative mid-dash.

“I am sorry, Bane, but this will only hurt a moment!” he said in warning, still somehow afraid of incurring his master’s wrath, no matter that he was incapacitated. He aligned the needle and pressed with all his might; the medicine was injected directly into the site; it would disperse and travel throughout his bloodstream, suppressing his dark memories to the best of its ability.

Todo sighed, dropping his hand and arm. He let the empty dispenser fall onto the floor. Bane had noticeably relaxed; his breathing evened out. Zulara finally felt convinced enough to lie him back down within the healing gel.

“Is-is that it? Will he settle now?” the girl asked fretfully, adjusting Bane’s breathing mask for him; it had become somewhat crooked.

“I do believe so, yes,” Todo stated, though his confidence was shaken. He backed up a foot to let her work, watching how Zulara tended to his master carefully.

It was then Todo wobbled on his axis, believing himself to be tuckered out. For a droid to feel this way was like when organics suffered from lack of sleep. He could not remember the last time he had plugged in, knowing that his power supply was finally dwindling. “I do not feel so good,” he reluctantly admitted.

“What?” Zulara appeared alarmed, turning now upon the droid. He placed his feet down on the ground - too much time spent hovering was another drain on his internal generator – knowing he had only a few minutes left.

“It is not..hi..ng…to worry a..bo..ut,” Todo’s speech came out garbled and slowed down, “I am in need of a re..ch..ar..ge…There is a sta..tion…do..wn the ha.ll.”

Bane’s companion’s eyes flickered, like two glowing yellow fireflies, flashing her at intervals. What would she do without him? What if Bane woke up again? She ran to his aid as he began a make his way, albeit awkwardly.

“You can’t leave me! What if the tank malfunctions, or what if Bane has another nightmare!” Zulara begged of him.

“Bane will most likely be remain un..con..scious for se..veral hours n..ow,” he tried to reassure, his tiny, robotic hands trailing the wall to his right side; his eyesight was no longer reliable, and he had to feel for it: the door that would lead him to his charging bay where he would gladly sit and wait to be replenished. “Do not wor..ry, he is safe. You can always ca..ll… Bo…ba.” He could not believe he was saying this.

“Are you sure? But I don’t want to call him!” Zulara argued, watching as Todo ambulated toward another room. It was the place with all their tools, the one she had been searching for. Todo had nearly made it to his recharge station when he stopped dead.

“Todo?” Zulara whimpered.

There was no response; he had lost all power.

[katherinearandez]

Who created the disassembly drones?

We’re told in the first episode by Uzi that the murder drones were sent by JCJensen, and presumably made by the company as well. However, this is thrown out in the next episode when we learn through flashbacks that they started out as worker drones. Yes, they were originally manufactured by JCJensen, but what I’m interested in learning is who modified them into killing machines, when this happened on the timeline, and why it was done?

Of course I have a theory, but this one makes a lot of inferences between the shows past and present to try to piece together the middle part.

It all began with Tessa and Cyn. While some distinguish between Cyn and the absolute solver, I don’t and won’t in this post. Cyn is not the absolute solver; but I believe she has fully embraced it and the powers it entails. I don’t see her as a victim or a helpless host; rather as, at best, an accomplice partnered with the entity which is the absolute solver, or, at worst, the ultimate mastermind, with the solver being a tool at her disposal.

After Tessa brought Cyn into her home, Cyn began the work of recruitment. She began spreading the absolute solver among the drones working in the Elliot household, infecting them and bringing them under her control. A YouTube video helped me understand what was happening in this episode, because initially, I was very confused 🫠 It’s a great channel and if you have questions about what is happening in this show, I highly recommend their videos.

After infecting all the drones and biding her time, Cyn made her move, using the drones under her control to massacre the gala.

At first I thought the extra points of yellow light in this scene were Cyns eldritch cameras spreading out… but those are x signs. The points of light are infected worker drones under Cyns control. Here’s a shot from just a few frames forward, which confirms this.

Cyn even had J under her control.

So Cyn not only infected all the background drones with the absolute solver, but Tessa’s salvaged drones as well.

After the gala massacre, there’s a long blackout of information. We only have hints as to what happened next, but I think I’ve worked it out.

After the massacre, JCJensen arrived at the Elliot’s mansion and immediately started running damage control, likely confiscating all their technology and taking measures to hush Tessa. We see federal penalties mentioned throughout the episode, giving the company a compelling incentive to cover up what happened, aside from potential damage to consumer perception and tanked stock prices.

This is how Tessa ended up employed at JCJensen; I think she agreed to keep quiet about what happened at the gala in exchange for technician training and an inside track on unfolding events. Maybe she didn’t want to be separated from N, J and V, who at this point would have been reduced to evidence by the company. To Tessa, however, friendless and newly orphaned, they were all she had left of her old life. A job at the company which was treating them like secret bastard children would have kept her close to them, or at least given her occasional access. Or, maybe she wanted revenge on the rogue AI that killed her family, or maybe she just wanted to understand it. Lots of possible motives for this potential scenario.

I think Cyn either escaped the initial roundup, or escaped from JCJensen sometime down the line. Then she began a genocidal campaign against humanity, infecting more and more drones, and using them to kill.

This created huge problems for humanity on earth, but also the company, who would have found themselves in the hot seat, with governments and citizenry alike pointing the finger at them and their tech.

The company’s solution? Fight fire with fire. They created the first disassembly drone models, designed to exterminate Cyn and her army. And so began a war.

I don’t think the first murder drone models were based off N, J and V. I think they were an original line of units, who did their job fine for a while. But eventually, I think Cyn managed to infect them with the solver, and this made matters even worse for the humans. Eldritch-enhanced worker drones were bad enough, but drones armed to the teeth and now turned against their creators? This must have seemed like humanity’s 11th hour.

I believe it was at this point N, V and J were retrofitted into disassembly drones, as a desperate Hail Mary project, lead by none other than Tessa, their original savior. This was her final bid to turn the tide and destroy the monster she felt responsible for unleashing upon the world. Perhaps she hoped to use the absolute solver against itself, modifying its coding just enough that it would be immune to reintegration into Cyns network. Maybe she hoped her “dumpster pets” indentured gratitude to her would be enough to keep them loyal to her, the company, and humanity.

I think this desperate final play worked, and Cyn and her forces were actually beaten back as the company ran with Tessa’s idea, cloning her original three drones and their Cyn-immune software to create the army they needed to save the world.

Meanwhile, the war raging on earth caught the attention of other colonies and exoplanets, who at some point went ahead and uploaded Cyn to study her. Cyn may have helped this process along, posing as a human and communicating virtually with the exoplanets to foster the idea and facilitate the transfer.

Once uploaded, Cyn was unable to assimilate enough drones to launch a full scale offensive on these exoplanets(notably, places Tessa and dogs weren’t), possibly due to time constraints, cybersecurity obstacles or a lack of resources. Rather than play the long game, Cyn opted for a nuclear solution.

On earth, JCJensen saw what was happening in the colonies and assumed Cyn had infected all the worker drones on any exoplanet she infiltrated. They sent their disassembly drones to eliminate the threat they assumed the worker drones posed.

And it’s at this point that things start to get complicated and speculative(lol, jk, this entire post is obvs totes complicated and speculative).

In episode 6, we are directly told by Tessa and J that the batch of murder drones we’ve been watching were actually sent to copper 9 by Cyn, not JCJensen…

… Unless Tessa is lying about this to manipulate them. My distrust of Tessa is well documented, though I don’t know what her ends are at this point. Clearly something complicated happened with Cyn, Tessa, N, J and V(the originals?) toward the end of the war. Maybe Cyn managed to find a way to control the murder drones by taking over their administration?

She “reformatted their memories to soup”, hence Tessa being so excited that N could remember her. But why send them to copper 9? A colony she had already successfully wiped of human life?

I actually think it was a deception.

I think that after Cyn’s huge success with the exoplanets, she decided to do the same thing on earth, end the war once and for all with a final, devastating blow. There was one thing standing in her way; Tessa, the only human she cared for, was on earth. Imploding the planet core there would mean sacrificing Tessa. Unwilling to do this, Cyn tried to lure Tessa off of earth by sending her treasured original trio of drones to copper 9.

This clearly didn’t work for nearly twenty years, because that’s the span of time between the murder drones arriving in copper 9 and the events of the show. We ‘know’ this because Uzi is 18-20, and her mother was killed early enough that she has few to no memories of her(that we know). Something on earth held her up for 20 some odd years, maybe company business, but it’s honestly anyone’s guess as to what it was 🤷🏼‍♀️

Eventually, she did take the bait and follow her drones out to copper 9, and as soon as she was clear of Earth…

This is why the disassembly drones weren’t aware of earths destruction, why N was so shocked to see this satellite image. Earth was still intact last they saw(which, to be fair, was 20 years ago).

Depressingly, this likely makes Tessa the last human in existence. If not the very last, she’s certainly now a member of an extremely critically endangered species.

And that’s a wrap! Now we’re caught up with the present and just waiting on more episodes. I can’t wait to see if any of my theory is correct 😁

[lady-bess]

Fallout - Chapter 8 "Back to Basics"

Jack Daniels x F!Reader Explicit/18+ (Minors DNI please) Chapter Word Count: 6.4k Chapter Tags: Trauma response, description of training, description of weaponry, use of a gun, PTSD/Trauma flashbacks, traumatic reaction, grounding, slight intimacy, description of wounds/scars, beginning of a friendship, drinking, eluding to being drunk at times (sensibly).

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<- Previous Chapter (Ch. 7 - "An Encounter")

Training Jack proved to be somewhat difficult - especially when he finally had a weapon placed back in his hands.

A/N: Thinking of changing the artwork for this series...thoughts? Also I'm officially scrapping an upload schedule. I started this as an every Wednesday idea, but I've found it too restrictive. I'm now just going to upload whenever I had a chapter ready! It'll still be regularly that this series gets updated, but that just gives me a bit more freedom!

Your time spent in the bar after work was somewhat different to how you first imagined it to be. Rather than the tipsy affair you had in your head, instead you opted for nursing a whiskey while plotting what training you could offer Jack. You swilled the contents of the glass around briefly as you contemplated what you had planned, your eyes scanning over scrawled notes littering the book you’d been using, before you were joined by a familiar southern drawl. 

“How’s it coming along?” Tequila had asked as he slid into the booth with you, a cold beer in hand. He took a swig of the drink as he got himself settled in next to you as you both awaited the rest of your party to join.

“I think I’ve got it nailed down. Here,” you pushed your notepad over towards Tequila, “have a look and see what you think?”. 

Tequila took another swig from his bottle before setting it down on a coaster and turning his attention to the book you’d been jotting down notes in all evening. Although your meeting with Jack was brief, combined with what Tequila had already told you about his rehabilitation after Jack had left had given you a good framework to start plotting with. You knew before Tex had given you more information that this would have to be a very different training plan, but you hadn’t anticipated just how different. 

Time. That was going to be the main difference - even in spite of the fact Jack had been a very well respected, and highly trained, agent for so many years, there was not an element of this that you could rush. Normally your goal was to get recruits to a high standard as fast as possible, and as you only ever dealt with the weapons training it was simple for you to streamline the process. All your training could be simplified as the more you practise, the better you get.

But Jack would have to be different. The kind of trauma he had faced over his life, totally unchecked too, made you take a different approach. You wouldn’t even dare put a weapon in his hands for a few weeks at least, and only would on the advice of Loretta. 

Tequila nodded slowly as he read over your notes, following the words with his finger - an endearing trait about Tex you’d picked up on when he told you about his dyslexia, and the struggles he sometimes had when it came to the admin side of his job. He’d found ways to make it work for him, and never didn’t turn in his reports, but there were still times you’d see him struggle. Your handwriting probably didn’t help, either…

“Looks good, London,” he said, smiling as he handed you the book back, “are you gonna start training him right away?” he asked. You nodded, placing your ribbon page marker into the book before closing the cover and tucking the book back in your bag. 

“No point delaying things. I imagine Jack’ll want to get going soon anyway. Sounds like he’s been itching to get back out there,” you said, returning to nursing your drink. Tequila chuckled as he took a sip of his drink. 

“You’re not wrong there. For months he was fine, and didn’t want to really think about it. But these last few weeks he’s turned a corner and there’s been a huge shift in him - and for the better, too. He’ll be pleased to know you’ll want to start immediately.” 

You smiled at Tex, finishing the last of your drink. 

“It’s good to have you back. I missed you; we all did,” you said. He pulled you in for a side hug, squeezing you tight into his solid frame. He planted a soft kiss in your hair, then released you. 

“I missed you too, kid.”

You’d spent the rest of that evening catching up with Tequila, finding out about his life in the UK with Astrid, who when she joined the table the two of you both almost broke down in tears after finally being reunited. She coddled you in her arms and it was like no time had passed at all - suddenly it was over two years ago,  the night before you found out where you were being stationed, and the two of you were drunkenly hugging like your lives depended on it. 

Tequila and Astrid would be staying States-side for a while, but that didn’t stop the two of you treating that night like you’d never see each other again. By the time the morning rolled around, and you peeled yourself off your bed, you cursed the fact you’d let Astrid talk you into three rounds of shots to finish the night off. Getting up to brew a pot of coffee, you thanked your lucky stars you’d told Jack to not meet you until the afternoon, and opted to type up his training plan from your work laptop at home so you could at the very least nurse your hangover in the comfort of your sweatpants and no bra. 

Jack’s training plan was a solid one, and this was probably the most thought you’d ever put into a recruit’s programme. Which sounded bad, given that for over a year it had been your job to train the next generation of recruits - but Jack was complicated, he wasn’t a fresh slate like so many who walked in through the doors of your office. There were so many adjustments you needed to make before you could confidently loosen the reins with him like your other students, even if he did technically have more experience than you in this line of work. 

The major adjustment you’d had to make with him was significantly dialling back on the combat and weapons side of things. Having spoken to both Tex and Loretta to get an idea of the kind of rehab programme he’d been undertaking, it was clear that the very last thing you should consider was putting a weapon in his hand. Which was something you knew anyway, but after re-reading his therapy notes once the caffeine hit your system that morning, you thought twice about also getting him involved in physical combat. 

That afternoon, once you’d made yourself look somewhat presentable, you’d started at ground level with Jack, and so began the next two months of you being his 1-on-1 trainer. Meeting at your office, he’d then been given a tour to the site as if he were a fresh-faced twenty-something who had been poached by Statesman, with no prior secret service training under his belt. He’d met all his new colleagues, some of whom he already knew , and learnt about all the recent developments that had happened since he’d been taken off active duty. 

Then, the admin work. How you didn’t pull your hair out with him you’d never quite understand - for a man who had been in a job literally engulfed with technology for the best part of two decades, it was like watching a fawn how to walk on ice when it came to him getting to grips with the new system and the way in which things were filed. Long gone were the days of brown envelopes containing classified information, a system he was so comfortable with, and in with digital. 

After the twelfth consecutive training day of getting him used to the system, you almost lost your rag at him. You were behind on your own paperwork now, with Jack’s training slowly becoming to the detriment of your own cases. At just turned four o’clock one afternoon, with your head in your hands, you grumbled at him. 

“How did you manage before?” you’d asked, genuinely curious how he’d gotten by if he was this shit with technology. He’d just shrugged, wiping his hands across his face in equal frustration at the fact he couldn’t grasp it. 

“I’d had assistants for years! I never needed to worry about any of this shit,” he’d said, which suddenly answered a lot of your questions. 

Jack was the biggest pain in your ass you’d ever known. You thought that for someone who had been given a second chance at life that he might be a little more grateful to the training you were giving him – and in the discreet manner in which you were giving it. Jack didn’t make it easy for you; for as much as you were happy with the cover story that he was brand new to Statesman, the former senior agent spent a fair bit of his time out chatting to other colleagues in a way where it was very obvious he clearly had a past with the company.

But still, you persevered. Sticking to your word, you didn’t tell anyone who he really was, even when you were asked about it. Schmidt had enquired about him on a few occasions.

“Tex says he’s new, but I’m not convinced y’know. Is there more to it?” he’d asked one afternoon you’d gone to get coffees. You’d just shrugged it off, answering with a non-committal, “Not that I’ve been told”.

But in spite of how much you wanted to ring his fucking neck some days, Jack gradually got the hand of it. He saw how much effort you’d put in, and when he’d noticed you not leaving your office one night just to catch up on your own work, he’d seen the sacrifice you were making to your own caseload just to make sure that he was getting the training he’d needed. 

Filled with guilt, he’d brought you a latte that next morning ( with an extra shot of espresso) , and had started pulling extra hours himself to make sure he had it nailed. He would repeat anything he didn’t understand time and time again until he cracked it. You found him one night cooped up in the library by himself in the corner, desperately typing away on a laptop. The smallest quip of a grin could be seen on his face, and you slinked away that evening with a sense of pride that he’d finally started getting it. 

After that night, spending time with Jack slowly got more tolerable. You’d be lying if you said that the two of you hadn’t got off to a rocky start - he was someone who had been so used to getting any privileges handed to him on a silver platter, and now for the first time in years he was actually having to work for it. It had obviously ground his gears, and he’d resented you somewhat while he was getting to grips with everything anew. As his training officer, you became the face of all his misfortune, in his mind you were the reason that he wasn’t progressing faster. 

But once he got over himself and let his ego calm down, he started to see that none of this was your fault, and instead you were doing everything in your power to help speed this along. In a way he started to admire you - how you held yourself, how kind you were, and how far you had come with Statesman in such a short amount of time. The two of you might have still butted heads from time to time, but on the whole it was getting to be a much more amicable relationship the two of you had. 

Finally, Jack started making progress in leaps and bounds. Not only was he finally getting the hand of filing the paperwork, and making record time for some of it now after hours of practice, but Loretta had finally cleared him for using firearms. 

“There ain’t a guarantee he’s totally ready. There never will be, child. But his sessions have been the most positive since I met the guy. I’d say it’s worth a try ,” she’d said. 

You were nervous about the prospect of Jack handling a weapon - you’d read his file and knew what a marksman he used to be, and how he could handle himself in seemingly any situation. Of all the agents who were serving with the organisation at the time of his accident, Jack had suffered the fewest injuries across the entire team, even in spite of how long he had worked here. There was a part of you who worried that he’d try and relive his glory days, and go too far too soon, and you wouldn’t be able to stop him. 

But you trusted Loretta, and if she said his sessions were becoming more positive, and that this was worth trialling, you had no reason to not believe her. She was an honest woman, worth her weight in salt, and would never suggest Jack do something if she didn’t think he was ready to take on the challenge from a mental standpoint. 

So, just over two months after your formal introduction, you were finally in the weapons department. Jack marvelled at how the room had changed since his time in here last - even though this is where the two of you had met, he hadn’t really paid much attention to what this room was like. His focus had more so been pinned on the woman in a waistcoat who was to be his training officer for the foreseeable future… 

There were so many safety features installed here in comparison to when he was last in here for official training duties. He swallowed a lump in his throat as he took in the dozens of additional locks and biometric keypads that now covered the cases of weapons and internal doors to the weapons room, a clear indicator of what went wrong with him. 

You let him have a session just getting used to the feel of the weapons room now - even if Loretta had said he could try the weapons, you were in no hurry to put a gun in his hand on the first day. You’d been strict about it, locking away all bullets and magazines behind a biometric lock tailored to you before his session had even begun, just to make sure that he couldn’t suddenly flip a switch and go all trigger-happy. 

But to your great relief, he didn’t. He happily took in his new surroundings, made notes as to the newer weapons that had come in since his time, as well as just get a feel for what a gun felt like again. 

Jack smiled taut down at the small silver revolver, engraved with Statesman’s ‘S’ on the leather handle. It was not all too dissimilar to the kind of pistols he once carried. It was almost bittersweet to handle them once again, and you stood back and watched how he reacted to having them in his grasp once more. 

“You alright?” you’d asked him. Jack had simply nodded, caressing the metal with his thumb gently, before putting them back in their allocated holder. 

“Yes, ma’am. With your permission, I think I’d be ready for us to start using them in training, if you saw fit,” he’d said. 

Truthfully, you no longer had a reason to say no. Loretta had cleared him, and after a couple of sessions where any and all ammunition had been under lock and key, you were satisfied that he was as ready as he could be to start that part of the training now. 

So, you agreed. 

But when it came to those sessions, you were instantly regretting your decisions. For the first time in weeks you were seeing the cockier side of Jack again, the side you’d come to learn  would come out in a situation when he thought he was the only person who could know the answer. It wasn’t very often he would drag up his prior stint with the agency in a session with you, mainly due to the risk of someone overhearing who was not meant to know anything about his former moniker. But also because he’d agreed, along with yourself, Champ, and Loretta, that he’d likely fare better if he didn’t focus on what once was, and instead only looked forward to what would be. 

You weren’t sure what exactly got into him this morning to make him such a colossal ass , but you had no fucking patience for it anymore. You were almost ready to call the session to an early close, but after making him wait for so long to give this a go, you figured you owed it to your student to at least let him have a go. 

That didn’t mean he remotely appreciated your generosity. 

“I know how to hold a fuckin’ gun, Mimosa,” Jack said, anger evident in his tone and an annoyance seeping in. You rolled your eyes ( for the fifteenth time this session, you might add ) and sighed as Jack gripped the handle on the pistol. 

“You used to know, Seltzer,” you said, earning you a disapproving grunt from the former senior agent. You knew it pissed him off no end to be called by anything other than Jack, or Whiskey, but that was a title his own stupidity has forfeited. You’d happily remind him of that whenever he so needed it - it helped to bring him down a little bit, you found. Normally you’d call him Jack, but today you couldn’t be fucking bothered with his childish attitude. 

“Stop callin’ me that,” Jack murmured under his breath as he started loading the pistol for the first round of shots. He had hoped you wouldn’t notice, but unfortunately for him your hearing was significantly sharper than what he gave you credit for.

“Seltzer, I’ll have less of that,” you said. Jack’s eyes darted up to meet yours, a flush creeping up his neck and onto his cheeks as he realised he’d been made. You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath as you caught the agent, virtually red handed, embarrassed that he’d been found out. 

Or slightly angry. You weren’t sure. 

“Sorry,” he said coyly, breaking eye contact. He rolled his shoulders back, warming up his muscles to get into position and start firing the pistol at the target.

You furrowed your brow as you watched how he held himself, lining his body up for the shot. The muscles in his shoulders tensed all wrong, his arms weren’t bent properly, and his feet were far too close together. You leant back against the bench at the back of the room, lined with weapons and ammunition, and crossed your arms across your chest. Jack wouldn’t hurt himself if he took a shot like this, so you didn’t need to intervene from a health and safety point of view. But you wondered if he took a shot like this, which would inevitably be off-target, it might make him realise he needed more help than he imagined. 

Jack got into position, albeit the wrong one, and inhaled sharply. He knew something wasn’t right, he could feel it. The gun felt too heavy, his arms were locked up, and his body felt like it was twisting in a manner that was now foreign to him. This was something he’d done day in, day out, for over two decades. He plainly refused to accept that he’d forgotten this ability, and instead of doing the sensible thing and asking for a correction, he carried on.

Like an angry bull going after a bull rider.  

He inhaled sharply and squeezed the trigger, releasing a bullet from the barrel, his breath never exhaling as he took the shot. The sensation of the bullet flying out the barrel careered up Jack’s arms and left a shaking feeling coursing round his body, his muscles still locked up and not releasing even once the bullet was out from the barrel. Time seemed to slow down as he watched the bullet fly out across the room, and avoid the target completely. 

Jack sighed at the miss, but what frightened him more than the disappointment that he’d failed was the feeling he was left with after. Not anger, not frustration - but anxiety. Even long after the sound from the shot firing had ceased ricocheting around the bunker the two of you were in, the noise continued to ring in his ear. 

The pitch of the bullet ringing around in his head got louder and more high pitched with every passing moment, and he screwed up his eyes to try and make it go away. It felt like the beginning of a sharp migraine piercing through his skull, and he’d not felt pain like this in a long time. It all concentrated near his temple, where the scar from his accident stood prevalent. 

A few seconds after the failed shot, you looked to Jack and saw that he wasn’t making any effort to move. Not just to get into a better position, but to do anything. He wasn’t reloading the gun, he looked as though he was barely breathing; the only thing that was moving was his face, which was painted with a pained expression. 

“Seltzer?” you said, pushing off the bench to step closer to him. He still held his position, but you could see that something else was taking over control over his body. 

He didn’t respond to your voice. Truthfully, he didn’t hear it. The ringing of the gunshot ran around his head, bouncing off the sides of his mind and sending a piercing shriek through him. Jack grunted, faltering on his stance, and fumbled with his weapon slightly as he tried not to drop it from the pain the noise brought him. He panted, quickly flicking the gun to have its safety mechanism on, before dropping it to the ground in a panic. 

“ Jack ?!” you said, now actually worried. At the use of his real name he seemed to snap out of whatever haze he was in, and his eyes darted around to meet yours. Your heart shattered as you looked in them, and all you could see reflected back was fear. 

“I- that’s never- I don’t know-,” he stammered, his mouth dry and making it almost impossible for him to form a coherent sentence. You unfurled your arms from across your chest and went up to him, reaching out and gently placing your hands around his trigger hand to comfort him. 

Jack shook throughout his body, and beneath your palms you felt every nervous quake which ran down through to his fingers. You gently applied some pressure, trying your best to ground him, employing techniques you’d picked up at MI5 for trauma responses within your colleagues. You’d all seen some shit in your time, and it had become rather useful you’d found. 

Jack closed his eyes, his ears still ringing and the world around him spinning while he stood in place. His heart thudded in his chest and he could hear every beat as blood rushed through his ears. He found himself clinging to you like a lifeline, finding that your touch was the only thing keeping him from completely spiralling. 

With your other hand, you softly interlocked your fingers with his which rested by his side. His hand gripped yours tighter and you watched as he screwed up his eyes to try and calm himself, his breaths deep and steady. With a gentle voice, and getting closer so that you could speak in just a whisper, you spoke. 

“You’re alright, Jack. I’ve got you,” you said. He had no reason to trust you yet on a deeper level, aside from the fact you’d kept the secret about his identity for over two years. But in this one act alone he learned more about you than he perhaps knew about some of his colleagues whom he’d been working with for several years. He’d spiralled a few times over these last two years, and had to learn on his own how best to bring himself back to square one - but perhaps with you by his side, that might be easier. He never imagined that somebody else might be able to quell his troubled mind in any way, let alone how he so desperately needed. 

Slowly, the grip Jack had on you began to loosen, and his eyes opened. You smiled softly up at him, never once letting go of him as he regulated his breathing and began to calm down. He shot you a watery smile once he was calm anew, and you felt him trying to retract from your grip. You let him, pulling your hands away. 

“You alright?” you asked, letting his hands slide out from yours. Jack nodded. 

“Yeah, I- I think so. I’m sorry, ‘bout that…,” he said, looking almost perplexed as to what had just happened. You smiled softly and tipped your head towards a bench at the side of the training room, notioning for him to join you. He followed you to the bench and watched you remove your Stetson, setting it down on the seat to your left, before beckoning for him to take the one on your left. 

“When did you last fire a gun, Jack?” you asked. He shrugged, then sighed. He took his own hat off now, revealing the head of thick brown hair beneath it - albeit slightly more grey at the roots than what you recall from seeing in that photograph of him just over a decade ago. 

“On the day I got injured. One of the last things I heard was gunfire, before I-,” he sighed, again, “-yeah…”. 

“I’m sorry, Jack. Tequila eventually gave me the details of what happened that day,” you said, looking up at him. It was then, without his hat on and so close to you, that you saw the scar on his temple. You gently raised your hand and brushed your fingertips over the scar, and Jack grimaced as you did. Deep down he didn’t hate how the feeling of your soft touch was on his skin, but he couldn’t show such weakness. Not when he was trying all he could to appear tough. 

He sighed solemnly, letting his tough facade slowly fade from view. Of all people, there was no point hiding this side of himself from you - you needed to know as much about how he was doing in order to help him, and he’d be damned if he was about to face setbacks all because he didn’t want his pride to get damaged. 

You retracted your hand from his scar, not wanting to draw too much attention to the area, and instead reached over to take Jack’s hand in yours. Your fingers softly slid between his, but it was Jack who responded with a tightening grip. 

He smiled faintly down at your intertwined hands, the feeling now so foreign to him. It had been a long time since anyone had shown Jack physical affection, and even longer since that affection felt like it came from a place of love and care. After his wife passed he’d not wanted anything with women beyond meaningless hookups, and the second things began to feel more intimate, he’d shut things down. On a couple of occasions he’d entertained the idea, but those relationships never lasted longer than a few months, and as soon as he felt as though she cared more for him than he felt he deserved , he ended things. 

So something as simple as having his hand held, while completely clothed, was almost bizarre. But he noted, as he watched your fingers softly curl around his, and your thumb caress the back of his, that he didn’t hate the way this felt. 

“Thank you, Mimosa,” he said softly, “You’re a credit to this organisation, you know?”.

“Yeah?” you asked, turning to now look at Jack. He turned his head and smiled at you, a pair of deep brown eyes boring into you and making you feel warm and comforted from the inside. Even though it was you who was helping him right now, you yourself took comfort in the gentleness that was reflected back at you. 

“Yes. Tequila really undersold you,” he chuckled. You rolled your eyes, not remotely surprised. 

“Oh jeez, do I want to know what he said about me though?” you giggled, and Jack laughed with you now. 

“Only good things, Mimosa. I promise!” he explained. 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,” you snorted. 

“Oh, stop,” Jack chuckled, his hand gripping yours tighter, “I very much got the impression that the two of you enjoy winding each other up. So for him to still be able to sing your praises? Yeah, I trusted that he meant every word. And he wasn’t wrong; not about a single thing.” 

“Thank you, Jack. That means a lot to hear,” you smiled. 

Jack nodded, then cleared his throat and loosened his grip on your hand. He’d calmed down enough now that he felt as though he could clear up in here for the day, and didn’t want to burden you any longer with his feeling of not being alright. He’d make a point to go and see Loretta after your session, he thought, and as you let him retract his hand from yours, both of you grabbed your stetsons and stood up. 

“You feelin’ better?” you asked, and Jack nodded, putting his hat back on his head. 

“Yes, ma’am. I’m gonna head and see Loretta before our next session, just to go over today. But I think for now I’m gonna have to throw the towel in,” he smiled. “Sorry.”

“No need to apologise,” you said, shaking your head. “This was always going to be a strange adjustment, and a big step to take. See Loretta, and perhaps next session we’ll do more work in weapons that don’t involve guns.” 

“Sounds like a plan. Got anything in mind?” he asked. You grinned, looking over to one of the wall panels which was filled with ropes and lassos. 

“I might have some ideas cooking up, yeah,” you chuckled. 

Jack followed your gaze to the cabinet, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t get a twinge of excitement at the thought of gripping a lasso again. It was one of the parts of his job that he missed the most, the power that came from being so nimble with a whip or lasso. 

He noticed, as he turned back to look at you, the way your fingers danced over the handle of your own whip. He’d seen it before, but he grinned as he watched you fiddle with it, he noticed it was a very similar model to the one he once owned. The way the small switch stood out on the end, signifying yours would turn electric at a moment’s notice, had a buzz go through Jack at the thought of you using it. 

He’d been wanting to ask for a few weeks why you chose that weapon - it wasn’t exactly conventional when he made the choice, and with the amount of technological advancements that had come along since his time he very much doubted that it was any more preferable now. You turned back to look at him and were greeted with a cheeky grin, a far cry to the face of the man who you had just seen almost broken not ten minutes before you. You furrowed your eyebrows in curiosity, and folded your arms across your chest in defence.

“What made you decide to have a whip as your signature weapon, by the way?” he asked, that playful smirk never diminishing. 

Ah, fuck. Busted. 

You cleared your throat, a warmth dancing across your cheeks at the reality you were now faced with. You knew that your decision to carry this weapon out of slight admiration was bound to come up one day, but you had hoped it would be much further down the line than this. You began trying to pace away from Jack, your feet moving towards the door. 

But something stopped you. 

Jack reached out and placed his hand on your arm, effectively stopping you in your tracks. Now you were really done for. You dared to make eye contact with the cowboy again, and butterflies swirled in your stomach as you did. 

“Well? Come on, don’t keep me waitin’. I don’t know many that would choose such a weapon. Colour me intrigued!” he said. 

You rolled your eyes, but chuckled to yourself. You figured there was no better time than the present to rip this bandaid off, anyway…

“Fine, fine! Twist my arm, why don’t you,” you began, clearing your throat and inhaling sharply before continuing. 

“I read your file before I knew about you from Tequila, and your stats impressed me immensely. Your success rate, how little you got injured, and the kind of missions you were involved with. From a professional standpoint, I admired the work you did,” you said. “And then I finally got the chance to speak to Tex about you. He told me so much about you, but one detail that always stood out was your choice of weapon. I’ll admit, I was intrigued.”

“Really?!” Jack said, dropping his hand from your arm and replacing playful smirk for a smile of genuine joy. You chuckled as you watched him, slightly giddy, at the prospect that you might have for a second been inspired by him.  

“Yes, really . I couldn’t get my head around the benefit of a weapon like this,” you gestured to the whip by tapping the handle that was hooked to your hip, “But I was interested in finding out. So, on the downlow, I had my training officer show me the way with one”. 

“Who was your T.O?” Jack asked, the two of you now heading towards the exit. 

“Eve. She’s just got back from a prolonged, and well deserved, break. Have you ever worked with her?” you asked. Jack smiled and nodded.

“Yes, I’ve had the pleasure. Does explain a whole lot about you and your training style though, given she shaped you into an agent.”

“She’s the best. I’ve missed her these last couple of months, but it’s been nice to not be worried about her getting injured recently,” you said. Jack shrugged before opening the door for you, allowing you to step out of the weapons room, then followed by him. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure. From what I recall Eve seemed to have a knack for getting herself into a pickle even when she wasn’t working!”. 

You laughed to yourself as you locked the weapons room door behind the two of you, turning the key in the lock and then entering the code 719002 into the door. He wasn’t wrong about Eve - even if he hadn’t worked with her for a couple of years, his assessment was alarmingly accurate. She was the best agent you’d ever worked with, but her ability to get caught up in minor self-inflicted accidents was almost comical. 

“You’re not wrong, I’ve seen her trip over thin air before,” you said, still giggling. Jack laughed with you, and then softened as you turned to look at him. 

“Thank you, for today. And for your patience in general. I know I haven’t been the easiest agent to train,” Jack said. You chuckled. 

“You can say that again,” you told him, winking playfully as you tucked the key to the weapons room in the inner pocket of your jacket. 

“Sorry,” he winced. 

“It’s nothing, Jack. You’re a pain in my ass, but… I’m coming to like having to deal with your… quirks ,” you chuckled. 

“ Quirks ?!” he said, not able to hold back a laugh. 

“Yes, quirks! You’re bloody impossible sometimes!”. 

Jack laughed with you, then shook his head in amusement. He knew you weren’t wrong, and that he had been reluctant to some of the changes which had been made recently, but every day he was grateful for the attention and devotion you showed him. 

“Okay, okay, fine . I’ll admit it!” he said, raising his hands as though he was in surrender. You giggled, playfully patting the side of his right rib cage gently as a physical way of telling him to knock it off. 

Jack smiled down at you, feeling totally relaxed in your presence. There hadn’t been many instances in the last two years where he’d felt like he was genuinely calm, or at peace. But something about this friendship that was blossoming between the two of you made him feel like nothing had ever gone awry, and that life wasn’t perfect. 

He had to drop his arms down to his sides fairly quickly, as he found the longer he stayed fooling around with you like this, the more he had the urge to pull you in for a huge hug. Something told him that you might not be totally against that, given the fact you’d already not shied away from using physical touch with him where needed, but that was a line he knew he shouldn’t cross. 

“Go see Loretta, Jack. And have tomorrow off, or use it for database study. I don’t want to overwhelm you given today,” you said. Jack nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll let you know when I’ve had my session,” he said. 

“Thank you. I’ll liaise with Champ and Tequila, and let them know about this too. You just get yourself some rest,” you insisted. 

“Thank you, Mimosa. I’ll see you soon,” he smiled, and then the two of you parted ways, heading off into respective parts of the building for the rest of the afternoon.

Even in spite of the drawback Jack had faced today, he was able to walk away optimistic, and with a spring in his step. He knew he still had a long way to go, and the hours he’d need to put into it would be nothing short of monumental. But with you as his T.O, he could actually begin to imagine his life after this was over. 

A second chance. Not one he ever thought he’d deserved, but one he was slowly beginning to earn. 

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[secret-engima]

Shinobi Economics 2: Warring States Boogaloo

RIGHT IT’S TIME FOR NINJA ECONOMICS 2: WARRING STATES BOOGALOO.

Link to my previous 3k tumblr rant on canon era shinobi economics here , and a casual reminder that I do not study or research economics a whole bunch outside of a casual interest for fantasy worldbuilding. Most of this is just- trying to logic out some semblance of sense inside the Naruto setting.

But to summarize the stuff I think is relevant to jumping into this one, in the previous ramble I established that:

1. Peacetime is actually Really Profitable for shinobi villages of the Nidaime to Boruto eras, because that’s when the lower classes (Merchant and Worker) can afford to pay shinobi for jobs that are ultimately the most money for the least amount of risk.

2. Shinobi villages set the prices of missions, not the clients (as seen in the premise of the Wave arc, where the bridge builder lied about the risk so that he only had to pay for a C rank instead of a B or A rank mission), and that whatever prices they have set for missions, it allows even a single parent shinobi with an active child to live comfortably in a city. Not wealthy necessarily, but clearly able to feed, clothe, shelter, and spend time with their child on top of work and training.

3. In all of canon, all the movies, even in Boruto (up to the point I’ve watched so far anyway), there is not a single shinobi that suggests going back to the warring state era. Not even the missing-nin. Not even Madara, who was more than happy to plot the downfall of every shinobi village and the world at large, tried to get them to go back to warring states (admittedly he was more interested in brainwashing everyone with an overgrown weed, but hey).

In that previous rant, I also made an offhand mention that Hashirama and Madara ending the war between their clans and making peace was them essentially inventing a ninja union, and I kind of want to come back to that in this rant by talking about what the Warring State Era ninja economy was probably like, considering what little we know in canon (ie the anime flashbacks which YES COUNT AS CANON since it makes exactly as much nonsense as the rest of Kishi’s worldbuilding), 

Okay so. What do we know about the Warring State Era?

1. We know it was a very bloody time of frequent clan on clan fighting.

2. Medical chakra techniques/medicine in general were not as advanced (because Tsunade is infamous for her contributions to the world of medicine and she doesn’t exist yet) so fatalities or crippling injuries were definitely more common, and most shinobi wore samurai style armor which tells me:

2a. The armor was likely a response to how much easier it was back then for a shinobi to be crippled or killed through blood loss and infection (especially infection).

2b. It could also be a hold over from the Samurai era, since we honestly never get a straight answer from Kishi on where the heck Samurai fit into his swiss cheese timeline. There is, according to the Naruto wiki, a mention of them having split off from shinobi back when chakra use was still called ninshu but that makes … about as much sense as most of Kishi’s timeline and therefore is suspect at best and garbage at worst.

3. Child soldiers were even more of a thing than they are in the village era. For comparison, Kakashi was considered a prodigy for graduating and becoming a genin at 5, and Itachi was exposed to death at age 4, but that flashback is structured (in the anime at least) in a manner that implies that this was not the norm (thanks Fugaku) and that Itachi should not have been anywhere near the battlefield since he hadn’t even enrolled in Academy yet (canonically enrolled at age 6 and was allowed to take the graduation test a few months later). However in the Warring States Era flashback, Hashirama’s and Tobirama’s brother Kawarama died at age 7, and their father makes comments that imply Kawarama was considered at least enough of an adult to be a shinobi, which means he *probably* didn’t die on his first mission? Their other brother Itama, who we do not have an official age for but is clearly younger than Hashirama and Tobirama (who are drawn to at least appear 12 or younger) also dies young, probably around the same age as Kawarama did. We also see Izuna, during the river confrontation between Madara’s and Hashirama’s families, wielding a sword that is clearly *sized* for a child. Unlike Tobirama in that same scene who’s out here with an adult katana held on his back like a buster sword, Izuna is using a sword that looks like it was forged with a child his age in mind. Which … yeah. Not good. Hashirama and Madara also directly reference a desire for ending the deaths of children on the battlefield when they are discussing their dream of a village. So clearly children becoming shinobi at 6-7 and up was Not Uncommon.

4. Going off the continued existence of a Daimyo and his court in canon era, there were a lot of feudal lords in this era, hiring shinobi to do their dirty work. Not just Daimyo against Daimyo like we see in the village era Shinobi Wars, but likely neighboring lords hiring one shinobi clan or another to heckle, sabotage, and assassinate each other. Especially considering the Naruto world Warring States is clearly supposed to be reminiscent of the Sengoku period of Japan.

So, with those things in mind. How did shinobi economics in this era work and why was Konoha so revolutionary in more than just “hey the Senju and Uchiha aren’t killing each other!” way?

Well first thing is that the shinobi clans would have been at the whims of the various lords and the Daimyo rather than able to establish their own prices for missions, and the vast majority of the clan on clan conflicts would have either started or been fueled by the nobles of the era out of convenience. There are over 16 clans listed on the wiki as being “Konoha” clans, while we can discount a few of them (namely the Lee clan because that’s just Rock Lee, the Uzumaki who were from their own hidden village, and the Hoki family who I think immigrated in from Suna? If I’m reading the wiki right?), and those are just the clans that actually survived to the canon village era. That is a lot of competition for shinobi work in an era where most of those jobs would have come from the rich lords, the Daimyo himself, or a few very wealthy merchants would have been able to afford to both hire a shinobi clan and would have felt it worth the risk of gambling that their competitors wouldn’t also hire a shinobi clan to retaliate. The working class would not have been able to afford a shinobi’s services, and they also definitely wouldn’t want to risk going near a shinobi, because this era was when the clans would’ve had their bloodiest, most inhuman rumors and reputations as remorseless killers.

The staple/most common jobs for shinobi clans of that era would likely have been the violent ones that in the modern era get regulated to ANBU, because again, the Worker class can’t hire for D-ranks and the Merchant class probably either also couldn’t or wouldn’t want to unless desperate or trying to threaten their competition with the reputation of shinobi. These “common” jobs would have been assassinations of adults or children, kidnappings, sabotages, blackmail gathering, spying, and open battlefield conflicts (every Senju-Uchiha conflict we see in the flashback arc, not counting Itama’s death or the river confrontation, is on an open battlefield with both parties in varying levels of armor actually). And of course the other side of those common jobs would be missions from rival lords who are hiring a clan to prevent all the previously listed missions. Which is probably where a good chunk of clan animosities started, opposing contracts that got out of hand and started an all out blood feud. 

If a wealthy merchant hired a clan to guard their product/caravan, it was probably because some competitor or a lord who took offense to them for some reason had already hired another shinobi clan to sabotage said caravan and product. If a lord hired a shinobi to kill a rival or his family, that rival had either already hired shinobi bodyguards or was going to in response to this. Which, on top of fueling a lot of clan on clan grudges from being repeatedly on opposite sides of a job, means that shinobi clans couldn’t really demand a specific mission prices. A little bit of haggling over the price, yes, especially in the case of the more powerful/sought after clans, but if a shinobi clan tried to push for “too much”, the prospective client could simply leave and hire another clan. Likely a rival clan that had a blood feud with the first clan just to spite them. Any failed missions or missions that were refused because of the pay or risk involved would also definitely lead to the client spreading word against that clan to any allies, which would lead to less missions and valuable income down the line.

The clans with the most ability to haggle, at least in Land of Fire, would *probably* have been the Four Noble Clans Kishi mentions; The Uchiha, The Aburame, the Akimichi, and the Hyuuga. We never have it explained why they are noble clans or why there is only four, but basic logic says that they were clans who actually held positions in the Daimyo’s court, and having that position would have helped them set at least *some* level of wage standard for shinobi work they took on so long as they were careful not to annoy the Daimyo in the process. But even then, there was only so much they could demand before there was a risk of the client leaving and taking any future business from them and their social circle with them.

The Uchiha-Senju conflict was said to last for generations. According to Kishi it lasted since Indra-Ashura thanks to Black Zetsu specifically, but that is stupid on multiple levels that I won’t fully cover here. It’s much more likely that the descendants of Indra and Ashura clashed a few times and mostly tried to avoid each other until the Warring States Era actually started, by which point those descendants were the Senju and Uchiha (and Uzumaki but they’re canonically a neutral party in that whole deal iirc). The blood feud *probably* started when a noble lord spotted the natural avoidance/borderline animosity of the Uchiha and Senju and hired the Senju to sabotage either an Uchiha job or even to attack the Uchiha themselves if the Uchiha held a position in the Daimyo’s court at that point. And because Uchiha do not react calmly to basically anything, the response was very bloody and over the top, to which the Senju also reacted poorly and… *gestures at the blood feud*. After that, warring lords would have started to intentionally hire the Uchiha and the Senju to pit them against each other because neither clan would haggle too much over the price of a job for fear of it being thrown to their enemy instead, and with both clans so eager to get revenge on the other as the years went on, they were guaranteed to give their all on the battlefield regardless of the mission pay. Which is a technique that would have been used against most of the clans to keep them from getting too powerful or too uppity about the pay for their jobs, but especially the dangerous ones with kekkei genkai.

With the inability to really dictate the prices of their shinobi work, the civilians of shinobi clans likely would have sought to provide some other form of goods and services to help bolster the clan (the civilians not busy trying to keep the clan fed anyway). This has been explored by other fanfic writers in this fandom (shout-out to Umei_no_Mai’s series “the Compass Points North” for being really great at this), but of course depending on the size of the clan and their access to resources that don’t immediately go to either Feeding the Clan or Providing For Shinobi Work, how much money this actually brought in for each clan is entirely variable.

So there’s the Warring States Era cycle of shinobi work. Lord A hires Clan 1 to Do Thing, Lord B hires Clan 1’s most hated rival if possible to Stop Thing, both lords sit back and watch the two clans fight it out for far less than their work is actually worth. Wash, rinse, occasionally repeat with clans that are not hated rivals but are still going to fight it out viciously because if they don’t do a good enough job then they will lose any further work from that client and the client’s associates.

And then the Uchiha-Senju Alliance happened, and did not disintegrate within weeks or months as outsiders would have anticipated.

And this one thing. This one alliance. Completely destroyed the “comfortable” cycle the lords, Daimyo, and wealthy merchants had for their shinobi dealings up to that point. Because now, not only are the two most powerful clans in Land of Fire no longer available to hire against each other, but they also have two clans’ worth of civilian trade and shinobi revenue to keep them from starving the first time they said “no” to a client, and any client they do say yes to has the pick of Senju shinobi, Uchiha shinobi, or a mixed team of the clans’ respective powerhouses.

What do you think the response was the first time a client approached literally any of the other clans and tried to hire them to go up against both Hashirama and Madara, or, just as scarily, Senju Tobirama with a grumpy Uchiha or three following on his heels.

The answer was no. The answer was heck no. The answer was we would literally rather starve rather than choose that flavor of suicide. 

Because while other clans have clashed with the Senju and Uchiha before during this era thanks to it being logistically impossible for someone to hire a Senju to fight an Uchiha and visa versa every time, those clashes would still have been comparatively rare but memorable. Similar to the nobles funding these blood feuds, the other shinobi clans of Land of Fire would have grown accustomed to “your chances of dying via Tree Man or Angry Fire Cat Man are statistically low” and being able to kinda sit back and watch the Senju and Uchiha tear each other apart from a safe distance, with only minimal risk of running into far less skilled Uchiha or Senju on a job rather than the guy who gets named the “god of shinobi” and his frenemy rival. They’ve seen the damage either clan can do, and now you want them to go against both? Without the guarantee of Madara and Hashirama (and Tobirama and Izuna pre the latter’s death) being too busy trying to kill each other to bother with you and your squishy clanmates? Hahahaha no.

And now here’s where the Shinobi Villages are a Union thing really starts to kick in. Because the Senju-Uchiha alliance grinding the Warring States cycle to a halt would have been temporary if it had just been between them, if Hashirama’s and Madara’s dream had gone no further than peace between their respective clans. If it had remained just the Senju-Uchiha alliance, even with fear of Hashirama and Madara, the other clans would have eventually been prodded into fighting them, likely even being hired by enough lords who were all unhappy with this shakeup to the routine to temporarily band together in fighting the Senju and Uchiha and overwhelm them (or at least badly cripple the manpower of the Senju-Uchiha).

But Hashirama’s and Madara’s dream wasn’t just about their clans. And suddenly here’s Hashirama “my smile is photosynthesizable” Senju and Madara “consider my wrath as your alternative” Uchiha approaching the other clans and offering to let them join this alliance. To not have the risk of fighting either of these terrifying men or their clans, but rather to pool their resources together to make missions safer. To be able to turn down missions without starving thanks to the combined revenue of multiple clans and their civilian specialties (and the backing of the Uzumaki, who are generally accepted by fanon to have allied with the Senju by this point via Mito’s marriage), and to have other clans be extremely wary of taking any job against their combined might, which will make the jobs they do take a whole lot safer.

Not every clan jumps on board right away of course, canonically the first ones to join the alliance were the Sarutobi and the Shimura (fanon assumes that these two had connections to the Senju and Uchiha clans before this but I … couldn’t find mention of that in the wiki?), which means suddenly any job this alliance takes means that a rival will be up against a roulette wheel of anywhere from “maybe four Senju like normal” to “combined wrath of a Senju-Uchiha-Sarutobi-Shimura team that are working out their collective new-alliance stress on your hide”. The other clans would have chosen to jump aboard the alliance very quickly once it became clear that this wasn’t going away or splintering. Which means more and more clans are saying “no” to jobs that they feel aren’t worth the prices being offered, and less and less clans are willing to go against the alliance for fear of being stomped on. Suddenly the clans who are in the alliance can not only say no but can say “I want to be paid this much for this job” and the lords who once had the option to just take their business to another clan are stuck. They had to either pay up or not have the job done at all.

Tobirama comes in, probably somewhere very early on in the village founding with the start of what will eventually be the universal shinobi mission ranking system, and with that comes the ability for shinobi to have a set minimum wage for each level of risk. There’s an Academy for their children to learn skills from multiple clans and sources now rather than being forced to take to the field just to help pay for food/armor/resources for the clan.

In the real world, this kind of change takes … way longer on average. But in the Naruto world the options from the get-go were “be under Hashirama’s and Madara’s protection” or “be a potential enemy against them and their clans on a mission”, and none of the shinobi clans who survived to that point did so by being stupid. After they saw the Sarutobi and Shimura join without negative consequences (or subjugation as vassals), the clans of Land of Fire would have started joining the alliance faster than the nobles who used their blood feuds as a handy leash could keep up with or compensate for. Canon says something along the lines of the village negotiating with the Daimyo for permission to be there but realistically by the time the Daimyo realized this was not just a passing treaty, that the Ninja Union was not going away, it was already far too late to stop it. Trying to starve the alliance into compliance by cutting off their trades would have only meant that every shinobi clan now on board with Konoha’s existence (read; the majority of them) would overthrow the Daimyo and install a more cooperative leader in his place. Heck, for all we know that’s what happened, it’s not like Kishi bothers to keep a coherent history or timeline. But considering the Daimyo does have a say in who the Hokage of the village is and they are enough at the Daimyo’s beck and call to fight in the future Shinobi Wars, it is more likely that the budding Konoha did successfully negotiate with the Daimyo for a “our loyalty and your nominal supervision over our village in exchange for extra land and free reign over our internal structure” kind of deal.

The clans being united was also an advantage for the Daimyo, once he got over the “can no longer charge whatever he wants for assassinations”. Because with all the Land of Fire clans unified, suddenly any upstart lords looking to depose him or wars he might get up to with other Daimyo look a lot more winnable. The other major Elemental nations, seeing this and realizing it’s not going away, probably scrambled to get their own clans to unify, which is one reason why Kiri is … such a disaster in canon. Rather than being a willing endeavor by the various clans to unite for their own benefit, the Daimyo of Water basically threw all his feral clans off their respective islands and territories and said “you all live here now and you all do what I tell you or else the Land of Fire will wipe us out”. Which, as you can see, went swimmingly for them (sarcasm). That or the other shinobi clans in the various nations did actually unionize of their own will once they saw it worked for Konoha, but Kiri never got the memo of “actually make peace with your rivals” and instead just clustered together in a feral knot of “we hate each other but we hate outsiders MORE so we’re going to pretend we actually function as a society”. Which lasted… Not long.

And there you go, another shinobi economics ramble. I feel like this one is even less structured than the last one but hey at least it’s like. 100 whole words shorter.

[medea10]

My Review of Cherry Magic

(short for: Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?!)

Note from the reviewer: Hi everyone! Sorry it's been several months since I last posted a review. It has been a hard and stressful time for me. I've had to endure a surgery, two infections, my younger cat having a heart attack and dying, a family member have her cancer come back, and this one condition of mine where I had symptoms plague me for an entire month. As you can see, I had no interest in writing reviews. Now that a lot of this turbulence has passed, I'm ready to get back into the swing of things. With all of that unpleasantness out of the way, let's get at it.

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When looking at this title, your first thought is this is an Isekai, a BL, and has a run-time of 5 minutes per episode.

As it turns out, this is a work-place comedy and has a normal running time of 22+ minutes. But it’s still a BL. That’s good enough for me!

Kiyoshi Adachi is 30 years old and still a virgin. Apparently, Adachi has acquired some weird power upon turning 30. Whenever he touches someone, he can hear the thoughts in their head. Adachi actually finds this power lame and also annoying in cramped places like crowded trains. One morning at his job, he accidentally brushed up against the handsome and charismatic employee, Yuuichi Kurosawa. Turns out, Kurosawa has a crush on Adachi.

Despite having some perverted thoughts about Adachi, Kurosawa really doesn’t act upon them. Yes, he invites Adachi over and yes, it’s a little odd that he has an extra pair of pajamas that are his exact size. But at least Kurosawa doesn’t do things to his crush that would chase him away. As for Adachi, this must be a big shock. But is he seeing this workmate in a new light? Could you even say that he may like Kurosawa?

BETWEEN THE SUB AND THE DUB: The sucky thing about BL animes is that the licensing company usually never dubs it. I know there are dubbed ones out there, but it sometimes feels like a why even bother looking. And I was ready to write this off as yet another BL anime that’s to be left alone. Crunchyroll released an English dub to this several months after the anime’s premier. When it comes to the sub, I’m glad I’m getting the opportunity to hear some of these men again. I only know the two main cast members for one big recent role and almost nothing else. So, this always helps me. Plus, this cast also has Makoto Furukawa and Ami Koshimizu. You cannot go wrong here!

Yes, there’s an actual female in the show. She was seen as a possible rival of love, but it just turns out she’s just a big shipper of Adachi and Kurosawa. Here’s what you might recognize these folks from.

JAPANESE CAST: *Adachi is played by Chiaki Kobayashi (known for Stark on Frieren and Yuu on Sing Yesterday for Me)

*Kurosawa is played by Ryouta Suzuki (Ishigami on Kaguya-sama and Ryouhei on Tsurune)

ENGLISH CAST: *Adachi is played by Daman Mills (known for Amethio on Pokemon Horizons, Monaka on DB Super, Yakov on Yuri on Ice, Osamu on Haikyuu, Shin on Misfit of Demon Academy, and Ginshi on Tokyo Ghoul :re)

*Kurosawa is played by Dio Garner

SHIPPING: I have to wonder about Adachi for a moment. I know it’s clear that he’s a 30-year-old virgin. But not every relationship is built around sex. My question is, has Adachi ever been in a romantic relationship prior to meeting Kurosawa? By the looks of it, he really didn’t show much interest in hanging around other people. Even a small group of coworkers make him a little tense. It might have to do with this recent power that he has. There was also a flashback of something that happened to Adachi. It didn’t end well obviously. But I digress.

Time to open up a bag of cheesy popcorn and talk about these two boys.

Kurosawa’s mind is essentially an open book for Adachi. He knows Kurosawa has a burning passion for him. But Kurosawa doesn’t try to act upon his biggest urges. He gets an opportunity to kiss Adachi, but just does a safe kiss on the forehead. Modesty or just trying to not to be so obvious. Halfway into the series, there’s a confession and an acceptance. Seeing them move fast even for a 12-episode series makes me wonder if this relationship is going to go further like them sleeping together. And with that said, what would happen if Adachi loses his virginity? Will he lose his power? Oh, but I’m over-thinking things here. I’ve got another ship to discuss here.

Wait, what?! Are we going down the Junjou-Sekaiichi route?

Tsuge is Adachi’s long-time friend. He’s a writer and surprise, surprise a virgin like his friend. And just like Adachi, Tsuge got hit with the supernatural as whoever he has skin contact with, he can read their minds. Tsuge winds up making friends with a delivery boy, Minato. I know the boy is only coming back to see the kitty Tsuge recently adopted, but we all know what’s up. Unlike Adachi and Kurosawa, these two had no interest whatsoever at the beginning. It felt like Minato didn’t really see Tsuge as a friend until it was close to the end of the series. And Tsuge was a bit quicker with his feelings.

ENDING: By the halfway point, Adachi and Kurosawa are an item and went on their first awkward date. What comes next? Total honesty! Yeah, Adachi has been holding a pretty big secret from Kurosawa and that’s him being able to read thoughts when there’s skin-to-skin contact. Adachi almost let the secret out on accident once or twice, but could pass it off as one of them being too drunk. On Kurosawa’s birthday, there was an event for work. Adachi invited his friend Tsuge and Tsuge invited his friend Minato. This is when Adachi learns that Tsuge recently got the same power as Adachi.

Okay, so I guess that means it’s just the same power of being able to read minds. That just means Japan’s got a mass horde of 30-year-old virgins reading people’s thoughts. But of course, it can only work if there’s skin-to-skin contact. Depending on your life, you could go your whole life without noticing you have this power. But I digress.

Another effect to the power is that Adachi and Tsuge are able to communicate telepathically. The boys learn that this power led them to someone they have feelings for. Of course, Adachi can’t enjoy this moment of clarity. Kurosawa sees the two boys standing together and got jealous. Jealousy is Kurosawa’s ugliest trait. He is jealous of nearly every person Adachi talks to. After Tsuge leaves, Adachi reveals to Kurosawa that he has the mind-reading power and has had it for a while now. Thankfully, it didn’t cause a rift in the relationship. Both boys seem to love each other just the same if not more so. Although, Kurosawa is a bit embarrassed knowing that Adachi has kinda been prying in his mind for a while now.

Okay, the big reveal for Adachi is already out in the open and there’s three or four episodes left. What now? Something kinda huge! Work life kinda comes in and sticks a wrench in things. The higher-ups noticed how much Adachi has improved as of recent. You can chalk that up to Adachi now being able to read minds and the side-help he’s been getting from Kurosawa. But the big bosses wanted to give Adachi an opportunity at one of their other branches in Nagasaki. And currently, they are in a different city. I honestly forget where. It really felt like Adachi had no interest in doing this and not just because of Kurosawa. So, he tip-toes around the idea by speaking to another colleague about taking up the opportunity or not. This did not sit well with Kurosawa when he learned about what Adachi did. Kurosawa was not only mad that he didn’t discuss this situation with him, but that he spoke with another coworker about it.

Meanwhile, let’s look at Tsuge’s situation. Unlike his friend, Tsuge is not in a relationship with Minato and there’s an air of uncertainty of whether Minato feels the same way as Tsuge. Plus, Minato has got other things on his mind like dancing. He has the chance to go professional and be in a dance troupe. Tsuge has been a real big supporter of Minato. He even got him to an important performance when his bike ran out of gas. This looks like things are going to end nicely. Ehhh…that was until Tsuge reveals to Minato that he had a bit of an ulterior motive for doing so much to help him.

This is where we’re at. Adachi and Tsuge have not spoken to the guys they like for a couple of days. Both for different reasons, but both for stuff they said and did. The Minato situation is that Minato couldn’t talk about joining this dance troupe as it was sudden and secret until the reveal, so boy’s been busy. Tsuge showed up at the debut with a gift of new sneakers and hell yeah, Minato wanted to see Tsuge. Both boys reveal how they feel about each other currently. It’s looking good.

As for Adachi and Kurosawa, Adachi is on the 10-day business trip to Nagasaki and Kurosawa is just miserable. Actually, both boys are miserable! They both said and did things that they regret over a work issue. It looked as though Adachi was ghosting Kurosawa until Kurosawa got a hand-written letter from Adachi. More can be said in a letter than in a text message. Kurosawa winds up making the long trip to Nagasaki and waited for Adachi outside his hotel. Not only are they made up, they look like they’re about to fuck. Did they?

Oh, yes ma’am these boys fucked. Huh? I wonder if Adachi or Tsuge have sex if their mind-reading powers will disappear. Oop, right on cue! Yeah, Adachi lost it. It’s a weird feeling, but I think most of his thoughts are of trying to open this new location in Nagasaki and wanting to be with Kurosawa. And…ooh, I’m too excited because the end result made me very happy.

Rings. Vows. FUCKING WEDDING WITH EVERYONE THERE! Happy ending!

Sorry, after watching Yuri on Ice all those years ago, I’m still going to lose my shizzle when I see two boys who love each other exchange rings. God, I miss the fuck out of that show. Oh well, at least I know that we will one day get the Yuri on Ice movie that has been promised to us that is on its way since 2017.

I am now receiving word from some random place that the Yuri on Ice movie has been dropped by Studio Mappa. FUUUUUUUUUUU-

But as for this series, I liked it. I might even pick up the manga to quench this thirst of mine. I’m wondering how a story like this continues as both of these boys are now happily married. Unless the story decides to cover more with Tsuge and Minato. I think I’ll just check out the live-action drama that aired in 2023. Yeah, believe it or not, the live-action came out before the anime. I see a lot of hype surrounding this particular title. It’s no surprise that a compilation film was announced immediately after the season ended. That’s sometimes a good sign that more content is on the way. I think those who are into BL anime, this might be a good watch. And for those long-time Yuri on Ice holdouts…I’m pissed off too. But maybe, take your mind off the anger and check this puppy out.

If you would like to watch Cherry Magic, Crunchyroll not only has the anime, but also the live-action drama as well.