#also..... this is very much happening in the abandoned part of that city he lives in or like if in another verse. wherever he has set up

[bcneheaded]

💬🥀 — There's screaming... just around the corner there, just beyond this alleyway. Somewhere near the location of Artemis' shop, but far enough away to make the lesser demonic and shadow entities feel a little too brave, perhaps. To make the scouting goons of the demon's rival, a vampire lord, feel a little too at ease.

" 𝚢𝚘𝚞'𝚟𝚎 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚖𝚎. " Comes a hoarse whisper; voice low as though murmuring a secret. A strangled whimper, and then something wet spattering to the ground. Whatever it was wasn't human, at least. But did that truly make the pain inflicted any better?

Rounding the corner, one would see the suited demon standing within the empty, narrow street, holding aloft an inky black imp-like demon in his gloved hand... Black tendrils wrapped around the smaller entity's throat, face, and arms... squeezing. slowly burning it with infernally heated tar. He was torturing it. playing with his food, so to speak. "𝙸 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑." Artemis' voice rings out in a hushed tone, words still level but scathing; biting; sharp within the undertones. He hated this creature. Hated it's kind. Hated his kind... hated them... 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌. There's a squelching noise-- black tendrils of tar wringing the creature hard enough squeeze out a strained gargle of pain-- and then there sound of something pouring to the ground. A heavy thump moments later.... and a sigh. Yellow pin-pricks of light stare in disgust at the crushed form of the demon at his feet, it's fetid blood trickling down the pavement-- threatening to soil the elder demon's pristine wingtip shoes.

And then he turns his sharp gaze slowly to meet that of the onlooker, seemingly hiding by the wall in the shadows. He says nothing, for now. He simply stares.

[zo3mess]

Bitter-sweet

Summary: Officers from other towns were reassigned to help the understaffed police force in Evergreen after the butterfly massacre. The good old game of cat and mouse begins with Vigilante continuing his shenanigans and one police officer determined to catch him. Except it is not entirely clear who is chasing whom.

Warnings: 18+, smut, fingering, p in v, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid and use protection guys), blood play, gun play (but not really) enemies to enemies with benefits type of relationship, violence, dead bodies, alcohol consumption, foul language. Female reader and no use of Y/N.

Word count: 5.4k (my hand slipped, I’m sorry) 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Extra songs for this fic

Masterlist of my works

Note: I realized I missed writing so much since I don’t write essays in school anymore and I got quite a positive reaction on my last work Laundry girl (I love you guys fr). This time I tried something different? I feel like this is messier than the last one, lousy idea, but you know how it is. Also I have never written smut before, so get ready for some weird shit. English is not my first language, I apologize for mistakes, especially with tenses. Criticism is very much welcomed! Thank you for every like, reblog and comment, it makes me all giddy whenever I get a notification <3

The Project Butterfly was a case that shocked everyone. Aliens invading Earth? Shady business with convicts led by Waller? Something that shocked you personally was the sudden disappearance of whole police precinct in Evergreen. Whole town ended up with no cops and needed help. Which was a great opportunity for you to start up.

Your dream? Gotham. City swarmed with villains. You needed to prove you’re tough enough for catching real supervillains. Where better to start than Evergreen? You agreed to relocate there to help, however your real target was Vigilante.

Some people said that what he was doing was good, catching criminals and ending their lives before they could do it again. But no one deserves to be above law and deciding fate of souls that can still reach redemption. Even if he helped saved the world from alien invasion.

So many times you saw him creeping through the streets late at night, but never managing to get close enough. After a few encounters, he realized you were specifically after him. A fan who kept a close eye on his work.

And since then, he started taunting you. Leaving a big V with the blood of his victims for you, quite few times even turning the signature letter into a heart. And they say romance is dead.

One night when you were stumbling home back from a bar, you heard weird sounds coming from an alleyway next to an abandoned store. Nothing out of the ordinary you would think, but it sounded like someone was in pain. You would be a bad cop to not help someone in need, no matter if it was past your working hours.

With caution you walked over there, lamp lights did a shitty job illuminating the streets, but you were able to recognize a body laying on the ground. Blood was seeping from under the man who was killed by a clear headshot, judging by the injuries you were able to see.

Quiet shuffling and groaning was audible from a distance. The realization that something is very wrong came far too late. Before you could even recognize what was happening a stranger pulled you around the corner and your yelp was muffled by a gloved hand.

“Shhhh shhh. It’s just me.” Vigilante. As if that made it any better. “If I remove my hand, will you scream?”

Decisions, decisions. You were more likely to punch him in the face rather than scream, but if he just killed the guy, it wasn’t smart to start a fight with someone riding on adrenaline and someone who is far more ready to fight. You would not cause much damage in high heels, short dress and still tipsy from the bar.

Eventually you shook your head, and he removed his hand from your face. Uncomfortable silence filled the air. Should you even ask what happened?

You searched for his eyes behind the red visor, until you noticed he was staring down. Was he…

“Are you staring at my tits?’’

“Your heart is beating really fast.” A simple observation that mesmerized him. He also wasn’t completely calm, quite the opposite. Since you disrupted his hunt so abruptly. Before you came he had been planning on drawing a nice big V on the floor for you, a greeting he sent you every time he left a corpse behind him.

A gloved hand made its way to your cleavage, pressing his hand against your skin to feel it rise and fall with every shallow breath you took. Your wide eyes followed his bold move, you felt the warmth of his body and it was making you feel insane.

All this time in Evergreen you focused on getting near to Vigilante, to catch him and serve some justice for reckless behavior, for playing God. And now he was closer than ever, even daring to touch you without a doubt in his head, it made your brain circuit.

You noticed he started to breathe faster too, his chest piece was rising with every deep inhale, and even in the low light of the street lamp you saw a dark stain on his mask. It did not take long before he rolled up the bottom half of his mask in exhaustion. No wonder he had trouble breathing when blood was flowing from his nose onto his lips that did not look exactly intact too.  Must have been a heavy fight.

“Not so fast on your feet now, huh?”  You had to mock him for it of course. All this time he was counting on his swiftness, it finally caught up to him.

“Shut up.” Vigilante tried to wipe the blood off his face with his wrist, groaning as he did so. Simultaneously you were taking a mental note that he was in fact comfortable with showing you the bottom half of his face. What was in your head an investigation of a target, he saw as blunt staring.

For a moment you two kept ogling each other. You took interest in the little human part he showed you, bloody puffy lips, clean-shaven jaw and few moles on his cheeks all felt surreal after all this time you saw him as a simple masked head with a red visor. Vigilante on the other had studied your eyes, how bright they suddenly looked, how they gazed at him with curiosity and most importantly how they kept flicking to his lips. He was no genius but a voice inside his head told him there was a tad more to this.

Something about stopping the alien invasion made him bolder, more confident, most of the time he felt like king of the world. Of course, people that knew him as Adrian Chase, a dorky weirdo, had no idea he basically saved the world. But you knew and he loved it.

You saw him as a villain, or at least desperately wanted him to be, and Adrian saw himself as hero of Evergreen. Heroes always get the girl, right? That’s how it should go.

He suddenly pressed his lips against yours, releasing a low painful groan when your noses got smushed. Hands dropped to your waist to pull you closer and yours found their way to his chest. Finally there was an opportunity to touch the expensive suit.

Vigilante pulled away before you could kiss him back. Maybe the alcohol made you much more reckless than you thought. “You taste bitter.” He commented and licked his lips. Was it that surprising? Considering you rocked a perfect sour face every time anyone even mentioned his name.

“I’ve been drinking gin and tonic at the bar.” Immediately as you explained your bitter lips and his bloody ones got connected once again in a far hungrier kiss. Regrets of tomorrow will be ringing in your ears for days. Will you be able to work with peace of mind when you’re making out in a dark alleyway with your nemesis?

His tongue pried its way into your mouth and brought the savory taste of blood with it. Who would have thought this psycho would be a good kisser. Conscience started flipping with guilt when you realized you enjoyed this more than running after him.

Your inner voice urged you to bite his lip, to worsen his wound, make it bleed again. You wanted to get back at him for pulling you into this situation and maybe, just maybe, you enjoyed the taste of copper in your mouth.

Your tongue swiped over his lower lip, searching and then probing into his split lip. The action made him tighten the grip he had on your waist, bunching up your coat. And when you bit harshly on his lip, tugging away and releasing it with a snap, he whimpered out the most sinful noise you have heard. It got stuck in your head, what would you give to hear it one more time. He pulled away in surprise and you got a chance to see your work, lip swelling and beautiful red appeared once again and his tongue licked the new blood that trickled down.

The corners of his mouth twitched upwards before he quickly latched his mouth just under your jaw. You felt the sticky remains of blood he left with every kiss on your throat. It felt good, too good, but he you couldn’t grant him the satisfaction of you bearing throat to him. He did not deserve to feel like a predator, like he could simply latch his teeth into your weak spot.

“You realize that I have to do something about the dead guy, no matter how much you kiss me.” You manage to find the strength to keep your voice steady in between heavy breaths.

“Or you can just leave him here, he got what he deserved,” You immediately missed his warm lips on your neck. “You could get what you deserve too, if only you weren’t so stubborn. I could take good care of you” Vigilante murmured and left his position on your neck. With a little concentration, you were able to recognize two wide eyes staring at you through a red visor, twitching between your lips to your neck, clearly admiring the claim he landed on you. Blood and spit glistening all over your throat, oh could you get any sexier in his eyes?

“I should be putting handcuffs on you and taking you out of here.” You spat back and straightened your back with hopes of appearing taller, confident.

“Only if they are the pink fluffy ones you keep in your top drawer.” Smug smile played on his face as he presented his wrists up to you with a dramatic sigh. Your pink handcuffs? Wouldn't it be too on the nose for a police officer to have kinky handcuffs? He got it wrong anyway, you do not keep them in your top drawer, they’re in the third one. A stupid birthday gift can always turn out to be useful in the right situation.

“How do you know about those?” Blood in your veins grew colder in an instant. Then it hit you, this freak does more than laugh in your face every time you arrive at the crime scene too late, taunting you for every criminal he managed to catch before you.

“Are you stalking me?” Your voice cracked a little, it had been a long night and this just gave it a crown. Eyes glinting with surprise? Anger? Excitement? This is wrong, right? So why did your heart skip a beat at the thought of Vigilante watching you through your window?

“No?” More of a question rather than an answer. Fucking liar. “I happened to be walking around your house when you had your curtains open.” The way he said it was so slurred, he realized his mistake. Gloved hands were twitching along his sides, biting his lip in frustration of fucking up, wincing once the pain of split lip reminded him of his condition.

“Fucking unbelievable!” You pushed him away and with wobbly legs, you slithered past him. “I’m reporting this dead body to the precinct. Pack your shit and go.” You absentmindedly pointed to the dead guy bleeding on the pavement.

Meanwhile Vigilante was still standing there with eyes following your every movement as you walked over to his victim, listening to clacks of high heels. Part of him could not believe you would let him go just like that, especially after you learned of his occasional late-night visits, the other part wanted to run and save his ass, just to play this game a little bit longer.

Before he decided to listen to your order and leave, he took a last quick look at you as you tried to scrub off the dried blood he left on you while searching for your superior’s number on your phone.

 Oh, the fire you two just started will keep him awake the rest of the night, he was sure of it. Whether it was cursing the world for throwing obstacles in his life with a bottle of whiskey or succumbing to his perverse mind in the shower.

After your strange run-up with Vigilante in the alleyway everything started to tangle up more than it used to. Starting with a patchy explanation of why you suddenly found a dead guy in valley without blowing out the truth that you made out with the killer a few minutes after he shot the poor guy.

Sharp mind turned into a dull organ sitting in your head, thinking about Vigilante in the opposite way you should. If you were still in middle school, you would be probably drawing stick figures of him and you with hearts all around while simultaneously stabbing a pencil through his head. Were you truly so weak to his charm? All you needed was to clear your head, right?

Same thoughts over and over again swarmed your head, even after a long day in work. You barely dragged your feet to your small house in exhaustion. You kicked off your shoes in hallway with a sigh and went straight to the living room. All you wanted was to lay on the couch, watch some stupid chick flick and let sleep take you.

The last thing you expected though, was a large figure lounging on the couch in complete darkness. Once you switched on lights you quickly recognized the one and only Vigilante.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You yelped sternly and swiftly pulled out your gun from a holster, wasting no time to point it at him. You were used to having everything under control, nothing could surprise you, so how did this guy manage to catch you off guard all the time, how did he manage to make your life so messy and most importantly how did he manage to break into your home?

“You’ve been slacking, I wanted to know what’s up.” Vigilante cocked his head up with absolutely no other reaction to being pointed at with a gun. You wanted to shoot him in the face just for this nonchalant gesture.

“You don’t chase after me anymore,” Another bored shrug, this time he sat up on your couch and leaned his head to the side like a confused puppy. “I missed your sour face.” The way his tone changed, from accusing to clear and soft, made you loosen the grip on your gun.

The first time Vigilante got almost caught by you got him addicted even more to the adrenaline. All this time he was getting kick from killing criminals, beating up scums that don’t respect rules. Getting drunk on the feeling of power. But the second he was cutting corners, sprinting through streets with you on his tail, unlocked a whole new world for him.

The intensity of danger, one wrong step and you would catch him, put handcuffs on him and throw him in jail. This little addiction he had was as dangerous as being addicted to any other drug. Doing anything to get another dose, this time it meant sneaking into your house and confronting you from eye to eye.

“How did you get in here?” Overreaction was audible in your question and there was no wonder. Usually secure house was suddenly intruded by the masked menace of Evergreen that basked in running away from you while laughing like a maniac. Now? He came up right to you, giving you opportunity to catch him right in act of breaking and entering.

You just kept standing there watching him walk over to you without fear, without a doubt.

“You forgot to close your bathroom window,” The tip of your gun met his chest piece when he finally stopped right in front of you. Even without the benefit of seeing his face, you knew in your bones he was smirking “It was hard to squeeze through, I’m expecting applause or something.”

A frown was all he got in retaliation, nothing more and nothing else was in place for his stunt. A sensible reaction from someone whose house just got broken into, he knew it damn well, yet it did not please him.

Vigilante freed his hands from gloves and threw them hastily on the floor beside your feet, all while staring down at you. Curiosity got the better of your conscience, finger slowly moving away from the trigger, but the gun kept being pressed against his body.

Big hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs pulling at the corners of your mouth and forcing them into a lousy smile as his reward. If you refuse to give him acknowledgment it will be taken by force. His laugh was being muffled by the fabric of the dark mask, the one that had blood all over a few weeks back.

That time you were the one under the influence of alcohol that bent your consciousness, this time you felt a whiff of alcohol in Vigilante’s breath. The thought of him having to take a shot or two to give him enough courage to actually step into your territory made you all giddy inside. Maybe the all-mighty Vigilante, the menace of Evergreen, is not as indestructible as he claimed to be.

“Just between you and me, I know you don’t want to lock me up for real-“

“But I do.” You quickly interrupted him. Don’t give in.

“No, you don’t. I can see it on your face. You’re enjoying it far too much just like I do.” Debatable. But he had a point. “I mean yeah, you are pointing a gun at me and shit, but you kissed me back that night. That means something!”

He threw his hands in the air and a cheery voice just completed his dramatic bravado. However, as much as you would like to deny it, you did in fact make out with him back in that alleyway instead of doing your job.

“Do you usually make out with police officers to shake them off your track?”

“Just with you.” His hands found their place on your waist and started to play with the belt loops. And you let him continue… What is wrong with you?

“Oh I’m flattered, how is it working out for you?” With a fake smile, you pressed the gun more into his chest.

“You tell me.” Vigilante strikes again with painful truth. Yes, you were pointing your gun at him, but he had you cornered in your living room, hands seductively rubbing your hips and you let him get away with yet another murder. Well done.

His mask got rolled up and you got a chance to admire his lips. Before you could say another snarky remark, Vigilante silenced you with an urgent kiss. It was his time to shine, to bite your lip, to shove his tongue in your mouth and tangle with yours. He gave you no time to think about anything else except him.

“You know how the saying goes: Keep your friends close and your enemies even closer.” He hastily unbuttoned your work slacks, pulling the zipper down far too hard you were afraid for a moment he got it stuck. Even though you should have been more worried about the fact you just got your pants shown down your thighs.

“You consider me an enemy?” You sighed out and focused on his warm fingertips playing with the elastic of your underwear. Touches light, like his fingers were asking for permission. The lack of protests signalized a green light he was waiting for.

“Only if you shoot me.” A toothy grin plastered his face when you pressed the barrel of your gun sternly to his chin and tilted his head up. How could you pass on that opportunity to rile him up like this.

“If it means you’ll stay close to me I just might.”  With those words his hand slipped past the hem of your panties, going straight for the kill and giving all the attention to your throbbing clit. He chuckled at your reaction, how you acted all tough and yet your body begged for his touch.

Your eyelids fluttered at the sudden contact, the precision he held in killing criminals clearly dominated other areas as well. Small and stern circles changed to slow and light flicks and back and all of it was accompanied by an intense gaze that searched for any kind of reaction.

You wonder what color his eyes are, that red visor was not flattering them in any way. Would he stare at you so shamelessly even without his mask or did it bring him a fake feeling of anonymity that pushed the boundaries of this escapade.

Vigilante bent down his head to the gun that lingered near his face. You could not believe your eyes for a second when he pressed a kiss to the tip of it before smirking. He’s practically begging for a bullet in his head with bullshit like this. He did not care he was basically being held at gunpoint.  A decision was made to hide your gun back in the holster harness, for the safety of both parties involved.

Your hands sneaked up to his neck that was bared to you, nails lightly scraping along his prominent Adam’s apple. You soon found out it made him wild, because the second you touched his neck, two fingers were recklessly shoved inside you, forcing out a loud moan out of you.

Shameful whimpers started pouring out from your lips, wetness seeping into your completely ruined underwear. You had to ground yourself against the wall since your legs started buckling under you. The feeling of submission poured over weak body, something you weren’t used to. With an abrupt yank you pulled Vigilante’s lips onto yours to give yourself just a second of control. You will allow him to take you apart with his fingers, but you will control when a how much he will kiss you.

Twisted part of your mind craved the taste of his bloody lips on your tongue again. There was no doubt he wouldn’t tolerate you biting his lip again to make him bleed like the last time. Or would he? You did not dare.

A better option was to sneak your hands to the back of his neck. A bit of hair poking out from his bunched-up mask caught your attention. Now you knew he had brown hair. Add it to his dimples, surprisingly sweet laugh, bold demeanor and an idea of a person is born, suddenly so real. Especially when he was jackhammering his thick fingers right to your G spot.

You wanted more. You needed more. Fingers tried to slip under his mask with hopes he would not notice it when you were distracting him with your tongue in his mouth. This wasn’t fair towards him at all, he was making you feel so good and you were trying to pull his mask off.

If you knew how he looked like it would not be any trouble to find him and arrest him. That’s why you came to Evergreen voluntarily after all. If all of this was just a means to an end…

But Vigilante quickly realized what were you trying to do and caught your wrist before you could continue. “Seriously?” Annoyance seeped from his voice, grip on your wrist so tight to the point it almost hurt. But your wide eyes that stared at him like deer caught in headlights made him soften his hold.

“At least buy me a dinner before you try to pull my mask off.” He laughed it off, but pulled his fingers from your pussy and you whined at the loss.

He let go off your hand and let it drop to your body. Instead he pulled his fingers from your panties and inspected the arousal coating them before bringing them to his lips. The sight alone made you sigh.

“You taste so sweet. If only you treated me so sweetly too.” Fingers popped from his mouth, covered in spit instead of your wetness. Oh, you’re fucked.

“Lose these.” You playfully tugged on his tactical belt.

“So demanding. Very sexy of you.”

The suit had quite a complicated mechanism and rather than losing his pants he just popped the button open to free his cock, hard and leaking precum. Hot and ready to go.

His gaze lingered on you as you pulled your pants and underwear down your legs. Breath got caught in his throat at the sight of your skin. A blank canvas for him to paint.

In an instant he lunged back at you, hooking hands under your knees to raise you up and making you hook your legs around his waist. Heat radiating from his body to your core was such a lovely contrast to the cold pieces of his suit that pressed against you throughout the evening.

“Are we really about to do this?” You were breathless, sandwiched between a wall and Vigilante leaning over you.

“Only if you want to.” So genuine. A man with no boundaries asking for consent, it surprised you more than it should have. “I do.”

“Baller”

Head of his cock swiped over your clit roughly. That bastard was teasing you more and more and enjoyed every second of it. His lips parted in awe, eyes were glued down to watch the pretty sight. You became something more than a police officer going after him or prey for him to take, but God forbid if he ever admitted that to you or even himself.

“I hate you.” Voice was shaking with anticipation and so was your body. A quick chaste kiss washed away the hate you felt even if it was just for a second, then he slid into you in one clean glide until your pelvises were flush against each other.

You both moaned out into each other’s open mouths. Someone would say it was just a noise of shameful lust. For you? A nasty symphony that set off something inside, the same type of addiction that controlled the man in front of you.

“If you sound so heavenly when you hate someone I’m really curious how you sound when you love someone.” He licked his lips and bucked his hips up to force another sweet mewl out.

“Go to hell” You knew it did not sound convincing and that fucker saw right through you. Because if you truly hated Vigilante so badly he wouldn’t be balls deep inside you, stretching you out with burning pleasure. With another vain chuckle, he started snapping his hips into you with urgency.

Vigilante filled you in the best and the worst way possible. Relieving the thirst your body was screaming with as well as putting a patch over the deep hole of anger and frustration he had been digging in your heart since you met him for the first time.

There was nothing gentle or graceful about what happened. Messy, desperate, vicious, and addictive is what it was.

You tightly hold onto him with arms around his neck, clinging like a koala.

If only your squad saw you like this. You have been boasting and promising how you’re gonna be the one to catch Vigilante. And here you were, it seemed he caught you more likely. Driving his cock into you in the dimness of your living room like it was his usual nightly activity.

Truth be told, he kept fucking with you all this time to make you mad, but never in a million years you would have guessed he will be fucking with you for real.

The strong grip he had on your thighs loosened with every hard thrust. Legs were slowly but surely slipping from his waist to the floor. All his power was concentrated on snapping hips and harsh kisses until nothing was left for his arms to hold you up, yet he refused to let go of you. Gnarly bruises were forming where his fingertips dug into the soft skin of your thighs, making this meeting even more bitter-sweet.

“You can be so good when you want to be,” You barely whispered it against his lips between your combined moans “You’re so good for me. Such a good boy-“

“Fuck I’m gonna cum! Fuuck!” His whine was long and high-pitched, you wanted to hear more of it, but he muffled his cries with a bite on your neck. Normally you would not allow him to bite you, there could always be an exception, and this was one of them.

Especially when he got into a sprint to the finish line, he found hidden strength to bounce you on his cock as much as this lousy position allowed him.

His pelvis was hitting your pulsating clit so gloriously, wet slaps filling your ears, moans and whimpers digging deep into your memory, there was no way you could hold on.

And you did not. Fireworks exploded behind closed eyelids, tingly heat spread from your core to the very tips of your toes, ecstasy consumed every fiber of your being.

Too busy floating on cloud nine to notice Vigilante clenching his teeth around the skin of your neck, creating another vulgar bruise. Too busy to register a loud groan he let out with one last thrust. Too busy to notice ropes of cum coating your spasming walls, filling you to the brim.

His hold no longer supported you when he leaned all his weight on you, chest rising and falling against yours with every deep breath. Being too sensitive to pull out he nestled inside you, basking in the warmth of your cunt.

“You know… You almost got me that one time. After that burglary in the liquor shop,” He murmured against your neck, pressing apologetic kisses to the spot he had bitten. “And I’ve been thinking about it tonight-”

“Where are you going with this?”

“I’m trying to tell you! Don’t interrupt me, dude.” Did he just call you ‘dude’?

“I wanted to say that I realized if I’ll keep fucking you until you can’t walk, you have no chance of catching me.” He pulled away from the crook of your neck and genuinely smiled at your dazzled face.

“Bold of you to assume I’m letting you inside my house ever again. I will remember to close that window next time.” At this point, you started to struggle to keep your head calm.

“Bold of you to assume I don’t know about the spare key in the flowerpot in front of your house.” That motherfucker. Now you have to relocate the key somewhere else.

“Sounds like a threat.”

“More like a promise.”

He pulled out and tucked himself back into his pants without a second thought. You watched with open mouth as he gathered ruined panties and pants while you leaned against the wall with weak legs. He acted so nicely, it made your heart melt. Just a little.

All of this almost made you feel bad for your intentions. You were there to throw him in front of a court and move on to the big league, but Vigilante just enjoyed your presence, your interest, albeit the wrong kind.

“Don’t pretend you hate me,” He handed you clothes and booped your nose with the tip of his pointer. With one last pretty smile, he pulled the mask over his face and made his way to your front door. “See ya later, loser!”

He just left you standing there with his cum running down your legs like it was nothing. Like he didn't just give you the best orgasm you had in a while. Oh God, What have you gotten yourself into…

[alphajocklover]

The Hometown Hex

Wallace Power was parked on the side of the road, just outside his hometown of Maxford, trying to gather up enough courage to get back on the road. Wallace hated his hometown. There was nothing wrong with the town itself. It was a fairly normal, albeit very conservative small town, but it was nice enough. His family wasn’t the problem either. For all their flaws, Wallace loved them all deeply. The problem was… well it was hard to explain. When his boyfriend asked why he had never introduced him to his family, Wallace would say that he was still in the closet with them, which was partially true. His family didn’t know he was gay, but once again that wasn’t the real problem. The problem was that when Wallace finally got the nerve to enter town… he’d change.

The problem was that the town of Maxford has a strange power. It wasn’t one that maybe people were aware of, mainly because no one ever visited the small, middle of nowhere town and hardly anyone ever left. But anyone who crossed city limits and entered the town would… transform. Although it could also be argued that the transformation happens when someone leaves the town. See, Wallace didn’t grow up as Wallace. For the first 18 years of his life he was Wally. Wally was huge, muscular, manly, and straight. He used to play football, brag to his friend about all the pussy he was getting, have sex with cheerleaders and joke about how pathetic fags were. He used to be an all American conservative country jock. And then he got a college offer out of town. Wally’s family had tried to convince him to go to local college like his dad had, but Wally wanted to go to a real party school with hotter chicks. So he packed up his things and left for college.

The second Wally left city limits he turned into Wallace. He had been so shocked he almost skidded out of control. His muscles were gone and it was like he was looking at everything with new clarity. He felt like his entire life he had been asleep, under some kind of spell, and now that he had left town he was… the real him. He looked back at who he had been with shock, horrified by how much of a douchebag jock he was. Trying to figure out what had happened, he drove back into town… only to immediately turn back into a very confused Wally who couldn’t figure out why he was driving in the wrong direction. He turned around and became Wallace once more. It took a few more times back and forth and a major headache for Wallace to understand what was happening. Something about his hometown made everyone who lived in it into a straight, conservative, usually much more attractive version of themselves. If someone left town they’d turn into the person they were really meant to be without the towns influence, but if they entered town again they'd turn back into their other self, not even remembering that they had been different while outside. Wallace tested it a few times, and Wally never seemed to remember being Wallace. He’d even get fake memories if he was gone long enough.

When he discovered the truth a part of Wallace wanted to just… run away. To leave this cursed town behind him and never come back. He had spent his entire childhood, his entire life, under the influence of the towns music. He barely knew who he was without it and that terrified him. But… even as Wallace, he couldn’t abandon his family. He loved them. He had so many happy memories with them as Wally. He knew his parents would never leave Maxford, being the traditionalist hometown loving folks they are. So, Wallace did the only thing he could think to. He went to college. He left Maxford, and Wally, behind him. He took time to discover who he really was, what he really liked. He got hobbies, friends, and even a very loving boyfriend. On the 3 years it had been since he left Maxford he had to be himself, to be truly alive. He kept in touch with his family over text and pretended to be his old self while doing so. He let himself live as Wallace. But he knew he couldn’t avoid Maxford forever. He had to come back, for holidays and big events. And every time he did he’d turn right back into Wally the jock. He tried to avoid it if he could… but this time, with his little brother Ed’s18th birthday party, he knew he couldn’t. Wallace took a deep breath, reminded himself this was for his brother… and drove into the city.

Wally Power smirked slightly as he drove into his hometown of Maxford. He couldn’t believe Eddie was as fucking 18! Seems like just yesterday he was the starry eyed kid who was asking him for workout tips after football practice. Wally felt a little guilty about not visiting him as much as he probably should, but school had kept him busy. While, the frat parties and bimbos wanted to get fucked by his massive cock kept his busy. Wally didn’t really care that much about grades and shit. For a second he felt a fleeting memory of a relationship, but that didn’t make sense. Wally was way to much of a ladies man to settle down. As Wally pulled up to his parents house, a small presence in the back of his head sighed. This was going to be a long two weeks.

**hey guys! This story was inspired by some dms with a friend. They told me about their experience in the closet and how they’d pretend to be a straight jock when with their family, and this idea just came to me. Definitely revisiting this later. I know I’ve been writing a lot of G2S stuff lately, and I’ll admit there’s more of that to come, but I’ll try to get out a bigger variety. Hope you enjoyed!**

[beannary]

OK so I dont really like this but this 2012 tmnt mermaid au has been driving me INSANE so here are some mermaid designs for the boys (which I might change if I draw more stuff for this au) and some lore for the au under the cut!

also Donnie is ftm and Leo is mtf and those are the facts! (Donnie did do top surgery on himself, do NOT ask me how he did that underwater safely)

(just a quick note: I am using some japanese mythos for the mermaid part but I'm also being loosey goosey with it alskjdfh)

ALSO slight tw for cannibalism? or like cannibalism adjacent behavior

There is a yokai described in Japanese literature called the ningyo, a creature that is half human and half fish. Legend says that if you capture a ningyo and eat its flesh, that you will be granted eternal life. Hamato Yoshi and Oroku Saki were familiar with these legends, though Saki always believed in them more than Yoshi. Saki believed in the legends so much that he became obsessed with finding the legendary ningyo and becoming immortal after consuming its flesh. Yoshi accompanied his brother on these ventures, more out of a sense of familiar duty and a need to watch out for his younger brother than an actual belief in the ningyo.

And of course, it just so happens that the brother who does not at all believe in the existence of yokai would be the one to find one. Yoshi encounters Tang Shen, a ningyo who has been living throughout the local freshwater river system. And suddenly Yoshi realizes that Saki's quest for murder might actually come true since apparently these ningyo are very much real. So now whenever he accompanies Saki on his hunting quests, he does everything in his ability to try to dissuade Saki from his plan, and when he realizes that isn't going to work, he starts to sabotage Saki's efforts. And Yoshi does this because well he kept in contact with Tang Shen, and the two became close friends, and son fell in love, bridging the gap between yokai and human.

They can't get married, obviously, Tang Shen is fully a yokai, but they build their lives together and eventually Tang Shen falls pregnant with their daughter Miwa. The two weren't entirely sure what to expect of their child, but Miwa turns out to be a completely normal human child.

Over the years as Yoshi and Tang Shen's love and family grew, Yoshi started pulling away from his birth family, and more noticeably, from Saki, who was you know pretty angry with Yoshi who seemingly disappeared on him with no explanation. Saki channels his anger into his search for the ningyo, and it takes three years but eventually he does finally find one.

Around three years after Miwa was born, Tang Shen and Yoshi welcome in four new kids! Quadruplets! Three boys and a girl. And these four, unlike Miwa, seem to all be fully ningyo, which very much surprised Yoshi and Tang Shen (both the fact that there were four kids and those four kids are all mermaids) but hey, they knew their genetic situation would be weird and they were fully ready to hop into raising these four.

It's only a few days after the birth of their quadruplets, so soon after that they haven't even given them names, that Saki stumbles upon the home of Yoshi and Tang Shen. And He Is Pissed. Not only did his BROTHER ABANDON him but he abandon him to start a family with this yokai? The yokai that he's been hunting all this time? And Saki, like in canon, kills Tang Shen and Miwa. (Or well you know, he kidnaps Miwa and renames her Karai but Yoshi thinks Miwa is dead)

Yoshi manages to get away with the quadruplets in the chaos, and he tries so hard to establish a new life for himself in Japan, but no matter where he goes, Saki manages to find him. Eventually Yoshi gets desperate enough to flee the country, and he finds himself in New York City!

But meanwhile back in Japan, Saki did in fact end up eating Tang Shen but idk how he realizes it but he figures out that he didnt get immortality, and so he concludes that oh, Tang Shen must have been tainted somehow by her relationship with Yoshi, which sucks because now he has to find a whole other ningyo to get immortality. Luckily he happens to know of four ningyo that he would be more than happy to kill, which is basically Saki's drive to finding and killing the Hamatos.

Anyways that's all I have so far!!!! I'm trying to think about how they would live in NYC, if they can somehow become human (in maybe like an H2O just add water situation) or if they are stuck in the water all the time.

I'm leaning towards them being able to shed their fish tails if even only for a small amount of time, just so they can still be ninjas and train on land, since I think Yoshi would still want to train them to defend themselves. I think that if they can be human for a bit, they still get dried out really easily so they can't stay out of the water for very long, probably not long enough for them to go to school full time, so they still live super isolated lives. Or maybe Yoshi figures out a way to train them to fight in the water? Idk suggestions are appreciated!

They do eventually meet April and Casey, I think April is gonna be on the swim team and so she's a fairly strong swimmer (for a human) and so she spends a lot of time in the water with the hamatos which they appreciate a lot! I think maybe Yoshi isn't a super strong swimmer so as much as he tries to spend time with his kids he can't really.

Casey is still on the hockey team and he can't swim, the hamatos try to teach him but they fully dont know how to swim with legs and so they are Bad tm swimming teachers salkdjfh.

[lilyginnyblackv2]

What are Kazuki and Rei’s Options? - Buddy Daddies - Episode 10 - SPOILERS!

In Japan, same-sex couples cannot adopt children:

Text:  Adoption and parenting Same-sex couples are not allowed to legally adopt in Japan. Lesbian couples and single women are unable to access IVF and artificial insemination.

(From the Wikipedia page on LGBT rights in Japan, which will be linked in the comments.)

However, fostering children is currently an option for same-sex couples:

Now, in another sign of increasing acceptance of the LGBT+ community, it’s come to light that the city of Osaka has awarded foster care of a child to a same-sex male couple. While city administrators confirmed the couple’s foster parent status on April 5, 2017, the pair, consisting of one man in his 30s and another in his 40s, were approved as foster parents back in December of last year. Foster parent certification falls under the jurisdiction of local authorities, but Japan’s central Ministry of Health, Labor, and Welfare says that it has no previous record of a same-sex couple being awarded foster parent status, so the decision by Osaka appears to be the first of its kind in Japan. The Ministry also confirmed that its guidelines regarding foster parent selection make no specifications barring or giving preferential treatment to same-sex couples.

(Source: All About Japan - “Same-Sex Couples Can Now Be Foster Parents,�� full article will be linked below in the comments.)

This is basically what we see Kazuki and Rei do, as of right now, with Miri. They foster her for a year, and she has returned back to her birth mother.

Now, what will happen next is unknown. There are options like Miri never returning to them/staying with her mom, one or both of them dying, etc. etc., but we aren’t going to be looking at those possibilities right now. Let’s look at ones where Miri is a part of their lives.

If they want Miri back in their lives then Kazuki and Rei will have to take care of the Organization and their connection to it, and then find alternative jobs to support themselves. Buddy Daddies takes place in modern day Japan, that is the setting, and they are treating the situations as functioning within the framework of what can and cannot be done in modern day Japan, in regards to childrearing, childcare, and so forth.

Unless they go the route of having Kazuki forge paperwork to be her birth father, since they look very similar:

Of course, this option would be a bit more convoluted. He couldn’t take on Miri’s birth father’s actual identity because he was a mafia boss and is currently, very much so, dead. But, they might be able to change it so that Miri would be Kazuki’s daughter. Then, Kazuki and Rei would be able to raise her, since she would be Kazuki’s birth child. 

But, unless Misaki were to pass away due to her cancer (which is a possibility, especially since she mentioned that it was spreading), the end result would still be a blended family situation:

Because even if Misaki had given Miri up for adoption or had abandoned her, the birth mother is still the legal guardian of their child. Unless the birth mother dies or goes completely MIA or the child isn’t put into the system at all (essentially just living on the streets), then there isn’t a way, in current Japanese society, for a birth mother to be completely divorced from their child.

That being said, blended families do exist in Japan, especially in the modern day when divorce, remarrying, and same-sex relationships being recognized are all becoming more common place. But, we rarely see blended families being portrayed in anime (specifically, I’m sure there is some exploration of this found in manga), and certainly not at a central level of any kind (like with what we have been seeing with Buddy Daddies and how it has been centralizing its focus on childcare and childrearing).

An blended family ending would still be just as queer and progressive as before. This sort of family dynamic would exist outside of the norm, and outside of the nuclear family expectation. The framing has been interesting too, because Miri’s mother is the one that essentially has to prove herself to both Kazuki and Rei and to Miri. She was brought back into the picture because it was the safer option for Miri at this moment, not just because she is Miri’s birth mother.

So I feel like, if a blended family situation does end up happening in the end, they won’t approach it in quite that way. Though, I also think that would be a point of contention at times (especially between Misaki and Kazuki) that wouldn’t be that uncommon for a blended family situation. Navigating issues like that is very common, I see my friends who are step-mothers and step-fathers have to navigate those waters often. If it were depicted in anime, even if it were for a brief bit (or in more depth if there were a second season and this is the route the series ultimately goes down), then that would be pretty neat.

Something else to note is that when Misaki states: “If you consider yourselves her parents as well,” she uses the word “parents,” 親 (oya), not guardians, 保護者 (hogosha) or other similar/related words. 保護者 (hogosha) does mean parent, but in a more inclusive way that is also referencing legal guardians as well. But she is acknowledging them as parents, the same as her.

Of course, there are some who are weary and skeptical of the integrity of Misaki. I think she is talking honestly and sincerely here, along with the rest of the episode, but if she’s not, then what will happen to Miri is that she will likely go to live with her grandparents or, like I mentioned before, the series goes a bit more of a convoluted and complex route with making Kazuki’s Miri’s “birth” father through forgery and the like. Or, they break the more realistic boundaries they’ve been working within so far, and make it so that Kazuki and Rei can just magically adopt Miri, but given the “realistic” mentions in a lot of the interviews with Uchiyama and Toyonaga, I don’t think that is likely.

If the series does go the route of having Miri go to live with her grandparents or mother and Kazuki and Rei aren’t brought into the family in a blended family way, but more so kept out (maybe with only the occasional visit or something). Then another possibility, especially if they do end up leaving the Oraganization and kind of “starting over” with new jobs and the like, is them becoming foster parents in general. 

Miri would be the first and the most precious one to them, but then they find a “normal happiness” with each other and become foster parents to other kids in the future. It would be a nice way to really show them changing right, in the sense of, instead of taking human lives, they would be caring for and fostering children - the future, and hopefully helping them turn out to be good people. That’s always a possibility, especially if there is some kind of large time skip in the last episode. 

Of course, the series could instead go in the direction of criticizing the cruelty that same-sex couples cannot adopt and therefore are basically only left with the option of fostering, unless they have a blood-related child through natural means of birth. That is always a possibility as well, and is something that I feel they do kind of hit on a bit in Episode 10, especially with Rei’s line here:

(Rei: “To say that after we’re all attached...it’s cruel.”)

But yeah, thinking about it, when it comes to positive outcomes, in the sense of Kazuki, Rei, and Miri living and Kazuki and Rei being able to escape the Organization, then I think the ending options are going to be one of the above. Everything in this post is pure speculation, since the series is anime original, we don’t know for sure what direction it will ultimately go in.

But these options here are the ones sticking out the most to me at the moment (once again, if we only look at potentially happy endings, rather than any potential overly tragic/bad end ones). It’s also possible that they may be critical of something (like with Rei’s words on the cruelty of it all), while also still painting an option, like Kazuki and Rei deciding to become foster parents, as something that is still an overall good and positive change for them, specifically. 

I like there is a potential messiness to the situation and overall premise that is presented in Buddy Daddies, because it makes it feel like the series is properly exploring the realities of the situation and the options that are open and available to Kazuki and Rei. It’s bleak in some ways, hopeful in others, and I am intrigued by what direction they will ultimately go in.

As always, feel free to add your thoughts to this as well! :D I always love reading them! <3

[genshin-scenarios]

Anemo androids with a reader whos slowly dying? Could be a good chance for both fluff and angst

Or alternatively, I raise you...

anemo androids who lost their previous user

Ever since, they've wandered around alone as independents, before running into you.

Content warnings: angst. death by natural causes (Heizou), death by illness (Venti, Wanderer), hospitals + grief + accidents (Kazuha).

Not specified or gone into detail, but thought I'd give a heads up! The guys are… very traumatized.

Characters: Xiao, Wanderer, Venti, Kazuha, Heizou

Xiao, whose user was working a risky job. Everyone knew that shorter lifespans were common in their line of work, considering how many enemies they could make - but that never stopped them from greeting each day as if it was the most beautiful morning they've seen.

Xiao expected them to appoint him to work, doing tasks that regular humans would avoid if they could. While they did ask him to help, they'd always put themselves on the front line instead. He never understood it - still doesn't. And it's arguable that Xiao also doesn't get why their last command to him was to live like a human.

He tries, truly. But he's quite sure he's lost his purpose after his user was gone; that is, until he ran into you.

You're a person with a pretty domestic life (domestic by his standards at least, which wasn't saying much). He's not sure if one can describe it as a crush, but Xiao finds himself visiting the places where he first ran into you in hopes he'd see you again. And then... maybe start a conversation. Or if you were in trouble or had too many bags to carry, he might offer his assistance.

He thinks it's just a passing interest until you thank him with a smile that has him blurt out a question, asking if you'd need more help in the future.

You exchanged phone numbers and promised to contact him soon. Xiao thinks that's the most he's spoken in a long time - and there's an odd feeling in his chest that might be the equivalent of grief and butterflies, finally fluttering out of the sea of autumn leaves that have dried against the forest floor.

Wanderer who unfortunately, has went through 3 users before you, if that's what you could call them. The first was a guardian who needed an assistant for her work, before she eventually tried to set him free. Little did she know this felt like abandonment more than liberation to the android.

Next was a well-meaning person whom he considered a friend, but wasn't aware of his nature as a droid and eventually moved away from the city. And the third...

...forget it. It was brief: a child who couldn't see him anymore once their parents realized Wanderer was an independent android. He's sure the kid's doing fine though, getting the medical care he needs.

Wanderer expected himself to learn his lesson: don't get attached to anyone, as they'll never stay or need him for long. That is, until he sees you; too kind for your own good despite his sharp personality, offering him a role at the cafe you owned. 'If you truly have nothing to do, perhaps you could join us here?'

A cafe. How ludicrous. He's worked in high-profile science labs, and now he's a cashier and waiter in an unsuspecting part of the city. You say he has a talent for beautiful plating and latte art. He holds back from telling you that as an android, of course he'd reach perfection more easily than humans.

...But, you seem like you need the help. And you're not as annoying as other people - so maybe he'll stick around. Just until you try to get rid of him (you never did.)

Venti was a companion droid for a boy with an illness. He was a friend and caretaker who'd make sure the child's vitals were alright, and would be able to call for emergency aid or apply it himself if something were to happen.

Venti was surrounded by a family full of love, and just as equally the despair of knowing that their time together was limited.

The boy passed after he graduated highschool. His parents had since given Venti his independence, saying he had the freedom to decide what he wanted to do next.

He knew that they saw parts of their son in him. So as an android who was always a little too kind, Venti left soon after he paid his respects to the boy. He pursues a dream that was both his user's and his own - shared hopes that were supposed to be debuted by a pair, rather than one.

He becomes quite a successful singer. Venti's no celebrity (maybe an internet idol at best, though he doesn't post his appearance without a mask or wig), but he's popular enough to live on his own and donate his profits towards causes related to his past user.

Eventually, you come into his life as a housemate - he'd accepted the idea on a whim, seeing as you just needed a quiet place to live in the city for your new job. It was only then when Venti realized how much he missed having someone to return to at the end of the day.

Was it possible for an android to have more than one dream? He must be greedier than he gave himself credit for.

Kazuha is still at a point of recovery, after his previous user's passing.

It'd all happened too fast; an accident right when Kazuha wasn't with them, realizing it was too late by the time he rushed to the hospital. He was a complete mess, panicking and standing there numbly as he processed the announcement made by the doctors. No tears could shed, for androids couldn't cry.

He still keeps their apartment tidy, seeing as his user's relatives were still in grieving as well. He goes on his usual chores, everything except the laundry and cooking. The pet cat feels grief too, finding comfort in Kazuha as it nuzzled into him. It grounds him a little.

Days, weeks, and months pass. After enough time, Kazuha's taught himself how to manage his grief, thought part of it still clings to him like a ghost. The first time you met Kazuha was when he'd pulled you out of the way of a speeding car that rushed the traffic lights. You're shaken by the near-accident encounter, but Kazuha even more so.

You see the worry in his eyes and the way he grips onto you so tightly, it was as if he'd be willing to use his body to shield yours to prevent another tragedy.

When you gently ask Kazuha if he was okay, he stiffly nods, before allowing you to pull him aside to a nearby bench to sit down.

...Ah, he was supposed to be a companion droid that comforted others. But you didn't seem to mind even if you noticed the slight scratches on his synthetic skin, left uncared for after a while of living through an isolated season.

It was safe to say that you brought the sunlight back to him again, little by little. Kazuha doesn't know how to thank you enough for that.

Heizou was bought to accompany an elderly couple who had a bit too much saved for retirement. They brought him onto their holiday trips, thinking of him as a son of sorts that they doted on - not that he allowed them to do so without doing anything in return. He'd make sure the house was in good shape, that they were healthy, and operated the electronics needed for them to call their loved ones.

He can't exactly be mad about how old age took them in their sleep. Ridiculously enough, they'd tried to fit him into their wills during their reading, which he pushed back against until a small fortune was given to him in cash. He had to open a bank account after that. He wonders how different things would be if that elderly couple had actual children to spend their time on. He's sure they would've been very happy.

Heizou goes on to become a detective; he's good at it, and they'd always joke that one day, they could see him helping a lot of people. Passing off as a genius detective, Heizou presents himself as a human and works at an agency. His boss and closest co-workers know he's an android, after dangerous missions where he threw himself in front of them and survived an otherwise fatal wound to the chest. He finds a family of sorts there - people who'd have his back despite how he likes to tease them.

You're a client that walks into the agency one day with a sensitive case. Perhaps it's because two lonely souls found comfort in each-other, but Heizou immediately forms a connection with you as he tries to make you more comfortable around him. You're not opposed to his charming jokes either, even expressing your thanks for his help when the job was done, and asking if he'd like to get coffee together sometime.

Heizou simply wanted to cheer you up at first. But at this point, it was safe to say that he's grown a little more attached than he intended to. (He'd love to get coffee, but would need to get around the fact that he couldn't actually consume drinks.)

[sweetnsour1]

9:36:10

Fluff, Bakugou x fem reader

Part 10 of the Broken Collection

How was this even happening? 

You stared down into the drawer that wasn’t cooperating. This would be much easier if it could just manifest the straw you suddenly needed. You groaned, setting the cup down for the fourth...fifth time. Ugh, whatever it was. You couldn’t make out the muffled words coming from the other room, but they were probably directed at Kitsune if the steady thumps of tail were any indication.

The cabinet below had more promising options. You finally found a matching set that had a straw that still had a sense of duty...unlike the many others that had the audacity to let you lose them around the city. 

You paused at the sound of a much larger thump, but still took a moment to dump the water into the new, hopefully more acceptable, cup choice. You weren’t surprised to find him on the floor when you made it back to the living room. It took an unusual amount of time for him to disentangle his limbs and decide to abandon the attempts to get back on the sofa. Instead, he opted to just roll over and sit on the floor where he’d landed. Thankfully, you had put on less of a show when you’d drunkenly found your way to his place weeks ago. 

“How’s it feel to be the number one lightweight?”  

“Course I’m number one.” His smile was wide and sure as he looked up at you. He had some nerve being cute right now. Red eyes drifted down to the grenade-shaped tumbler you were holding. “So you did have a straw.”

You couldn’t quite bring yourself to roll your eyes as he snatched the cup, waggling his tongue unsuccessfully a couple times before finally getting everything lined up for optimal hydration. You made sure to wait for him to finish a few gulps before risking distracting him again. 

“Pretty sure you would’ve been just fine with the other cup.” He leaned away from you and covered the straw protectively as if you were threatening to take it back. 

“It tastes better with a straw.” 

“I see.” 

“Do you?” He squinted his eyes, either in distrust or because the light was behind you.

“Sure.” 

“Hear that? She’s lying again, Kit.” 

You ignored him, but scrunched your nose at your dog. You knew her nod was a coincidence and probably more related to watching drops of water trail to the floor from the now sideways cup, but it still felt like another betrayal from the treacherous creature.  

It was more or less her fault you were even in this situation. You huffed as she tried to crawl into his lap, quickly deciding she was completely to blame for the direction the evening had taken. She really had no business growing a habit for midnight walks due to your inconsistent schedule. She had some nerve tricking you to walk the opposite end of the park than usual. She definitely had some nerve when she yanked the leash out of your grip for the first time in her entire fucking life. She, without a doubt, acted with intent when she kept leading you towards a scent she knew. She was also unapologetically pleased as fuck when she hopped up onto a bench next to an unnecessarily attractive blonde that was cuddling a phone, but who didn’t seem to have any intention of answering the loud voice coming from it. A voice you recognized. You stepped closer, grabbing the phone to see a running face time call with a very stressed Red Riot on the screen.  

“Oh thank fuck...wait, why are you-shit it doesn’t matter. Where the hell is he?” 

“Past the river by my apartment.” 

“How the-idiot! Did you use your fucking quirk to ditch us?” 

You felt a similar level of rage to what Kiri was now trying to direct toward the hero ignoring him. Bakugou knew better than to use his quirk to travel off the clock...especially when he was this fucking trashed. Although, you weren’t positive if he’d ever been this trashed. He mumbled something that sounded like “too many wrong fucking people” into Kitsune’s fur as he continued to bury himself into her neck.  

“Fuck…how the hell did you let him get this drunk?” 

“Okay, that is actually not my fault. I didn’t know Kaminari and Sero gave him a shot every time I went to dance with Mina.” 

“They went a little fuckin’ far this time.” 

“Well...those two are taken care of already.” He shifted the screen to show Mina still towering over the culprits, attempting some form of re-education involving bops on the head and a tone you recognized but had, thankfully, never been on the receiving end of. 

“It’ll be a while before I can get over there for him.” The blonde was now almost exclusively being held upright by your dog. He was at least awake enough to blink his eyes at you slowly as he now resisted sleep. You turned at a cough from your palm, pulling your gaze back to the phone. “You good to stay with him?” 

“No.” 

“Oh...um, well I just thought-” 

“No, I mean he can just sleep it off at my place. You seem to have your hands full and I’m not close to—your place.” Of course you weren’t. When you moved last year, you had made sure of it. He lived a few floors below Bakugou. A flash of pink covered the screen as Mina took the phone. 

“Are you sure you’ll be okay with...” She looked over her shoulder to aim a glare at the men behind her before turning back to you. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” 

“Yea, I kinda owe him one right?” 

As you watched the water bottle roll under your vintage couch and a distraught Dynamight try to dive after it, nearly toppling the entire sofa, and your dog take a similar position with her shoulders down, ass up, paws outstretched trying to help pounce what he was after...you were realizing how very wrong you had been. Your impromptu sleepover had been awkward, sure, but it didn’t seem to be a fair trade for the situation you were now taking part of. You walked past both of them, around to the wall that the bottle was resting against. You handed it to the outstretched calloused hands. He frowned at the unsatisfying sounds coming from the straw as he took a sip. He sighed a bit longer than anyone would need to before turning back to the wide brown eyes of Kit.  

“She drank it.”  

You snatched the cup back, and moved for the kitchen for water and a towel for whatever puddles were now under your sofa. You really hoped he'd fall asleep soon.

Masterlist

Next part

[miller-lookforthe-lite]

steps: part two

joel miller x f!reader

rating: M

words: 7k

tags/warnings: unplanned/(unwanted?) pregnancy, thoughts and discussion of abortion, UNSOUND MEDICAL PRACTICE/ADVICE, description of injury, canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, not proofread i'm literally so sorry - please heed the warnings, as these may be triggering to some! MDNI

part one | read on ao3

There are no doctors in Kansas City. There’s nothing left of the QZ, in fact, besides a group of raging militants who have taken over and are hunting for the very two boys you happen upon. Henry and Sam don’t have much, but they have a relentless ambition, and Joel must see that as reason enough to go with them.

As you journey through the tunnels underneath the city, you get sicker. It’s clear to you now that this is not some nightmare you can wish away, not like one of your silent demons. This is real, and here, and now, and if you’re not pregnant, you’re dying. You’re not sure which would be worse.

Ellie finds out while she’s kicking a soccer ball with Sam, because Joel lowers his head to inquire to Henry about a pregnancy test and is a lot less fucking quiet than he ought to be.

Her head snaps towards them and you scowl at Joel, burning his entrails with your eyes, picturing his slow demise, then feeling even more sick at the prospect, taking it back, praying the Deity didn’t hear you think it so it won’t come true.

“What the fuck?” Ellie exclaims, her head whipping to you. “You —” Her head swings back to Joel almost cartoonishly. “And you? I thought — ew, gross, but holy shit — I thought Tess —”

“Ellie,” you warn quickly, trying to jump ahead of Joel’s ire, because that definitely also happened and you know he’ll never tell you why or why you happened after.

“Enough,” Joel snaps, and the room hangs still. Even Sam, though no one has bothered to bring him up to speed, can tell that the tension simmers low, and he abandons the soccer ball in favor of curling up by the far wall.

Joel turns back to Henry. “You know where I could find one or not?”

Henry shrugs. “All kinds of shit stashed in here, man. Take a look.”

Ellie’s gaze is burning into your skin, but when you turn to look at her, you only see a quiet understanding in her eyes, a Knowing too old to live in a body so young. She plops down in the seat next to you while Joel and Henry are off rummaging through the bins on the far side of the bunker, and her huff troubles a strand of her hair. You reach forward to tuck it out of her face. Her mouth is set into a grim line.

“Is that why you’ve been sick?” She murmurs, her voice betraying her fear.

Your heart clenches. You didn’t want her to have to feel the way that you were feeling. She shouldn’t have to shoulder it, shoulder you, but you don’t know how else to be with her but truthful. Her face so open, so honest, begs nothing less in return.

“Yeah,” you say, and she reaches out to grab your hand. You blink back sudden tears that choke your throat and crowd your lashes.

“It’ll get better then,” Ellie says, knee bouncing. “The sickness. I heard that it gets better after a while. And you won’t have to yack every time we think about cooking beans. So that’s a plus.”

You can’t help but smile, still feeling hot and slippery with shame, but hope shines through, minuscule and persistent. “I hope so,” you whisper.

—

When you leave the motel, Ellie’s the one to lead the charge. You follow her, leaving Joel gazing down at the graves he just dug. Henry and Sam are under those piles of dirt, and you can’t help but think that it’s some kind of curse that surrounds you, the same deadly spirit that befell Tess.

Ellie thinks it’s her fault, a strangled confession pulled out of her that she knew Sam had been bitten but tried to save him. You know that feeling, know the despair it leaves behind, but you’re not quite sure how to reach the place she’s gone to.

A plastic-wrapped stick sits in your pocket, has for days, but you’re too scared to do more than make sure it’s there, palming reassurance. Henry had slipped it to you before he died, not saying a word, but there was kindness in his gaze. There was a care you didn’t know people still had for other strangers. Your heart aches.

Along the road, it’s been hard to find food. Joel had shoved what he could from the bunker into his bag, but there wasn’t much in the way of nonperishables - the Kansas City militants had already taken care of that. He let you have the last of the crackers, but you can’t help the pangs of hunger that wrack through you late at night, curled up in a ball on the ground, your back to some tree or to him or to Ellie, one of them always wrapped around you, always watching. You can’t help the dread that follows either, that you swallow like the air that feeds you these days.

Joel feels it too. You know he does, but he’s better at hiding it. He’s acting strange lately — delicate — not something you’ve ever known him to be. He guards you when you’re sleeping, but can hardly look at you in the daylight. Where he’s started to let his eyes wrinkle at Ellie’s teasing jibes or stupid puns, he slams his lid shut when you deign to speak your piece. He offers you a hand to help you over a ridge, and always, always throws an arm in front of you when he thinks something sinister lies ahead, but then swiftly pulls away like the boil of your blood burns him too.

After six days have passed, you go behind a tree and pee on the stick. It’s not hard. All you fucking do is piss these days. What is hard is remembering the hands that touched the test before you - a dead man’s fingers before they pulled a trigger twice, him and another child. Is that the price you pay? One child’s life for another? What kind of sign is that — what kind of life is this? What kind of world to bring a baby into?

Two lines glare back at you. You muffle your sob into the heel of your hand.

—

Your teeth are clattering against each other, your violent shivering overtaking any autonomy you once had over your limbs.

You’ve set up camp underneath a rock overhang, and your breath comes out in puffs. Ellie’s pressed as close to you as she can get between the layers of your coats, the extra flannel that Joel had wrapped around her hanging loosely off her puffy-coated shoulders.

You’re in Nebraska, as far as you can tell, wide open plains stretching as far as you can see, the foothills offering little respite from the biting prairie wind, but you take what you can get under the boulder’s meager shelter.

Joel hasn’t stopped moving since you decided to set up here; he’s tearing up jerky pieces, distributing them to you and Ellie and only pushing one between his lips when you glare, he’s coiling some rope, he’s pushing a tarp under some stones to provide some cover from the ceaseless wind. You wish you could bring yourself to get up and help, but you don’t know how much help you’d be, not with the illness still permeating your veins, your trembling uncontrollable.

When Ellie figures out that she can’t fix it no matter how she lends her heat to you, she speaks up where you couldn’t.

“We need a fire,” she wheezes to Joel, eyes flicking to you even though she tries to hide it.

He sniffs, doesn’t look up from his tarp-maneuvering. “It’d blow out,” he says, raising his voice to be heard over the wind.

Your desperation pushes you to chime in. “We could at least try. Under the tarp, or maybe the rock would shield it enough —”

“It won’t,” Joel snaps, and he still won’t look at you. He clearly intended to stymie your words, but now that you’ve started, you can’t stop.

You get up from your spot next to Ellie and wrap her firmly in the blanket from your pack. You stumble on shaky legs over to where Joel continues to fiddle, continues to fuss. “Let me just fucking try, Joel, we’re freezing, we can’t—”

You reach for the flint that you know is in the bag he holds. Your gloved hand brushes his, layers of cloth and unspoken and Too Spoken between you, and still he pulls away like he’s been burned. You freeze, watching him quickly shift to a different task, turning his collar further up against the wind.

“Fine,” he mutters.

You don’t know why it hurts so much to curl up next to the fire that night.

—

When you stop to make camp a few nights later, you decide you’ve had enough of this, this awkwardness and separation that your revelation had caused you. After Ellie’s been asleep for an hour, her soft breaths quiet in the dark, you push Joel behind a tree before he can protest, grab his face with your hands and pull his mouth to yours before he can remember that you haven’t spoken, haven’t talked about it, have only worried in silence. He grunts, the sound vibrating pleasantly against you, before pulling back, only a little, the slightest breath of distance. His eyes are locked on yours, so close that you can’t see straight, can only see brown brown brown, can only drown in it.

“I don’t…” he says softly, one hand on your wrist and the grabbing for your waist, turning you, pushing your back into the rough bark, but so gently, so gently it prickles and scrapes and wounds.

“Why not?” You say like you haven’t noticed how he’s been treating you differently, like he doesn’t know what to say to you, like you aren’t the same person you’ve always been before all of this. Like you aren’t praying praying praying that he won’t make you beg.

(He doesn’t.)

—

It’s dusk when you stumble upon a still-smoking pile of ash, the crisp wind spiraling it up to the conifer fronds above, dancing its warning like a specter. It makes Joel stop in his tracks. His shoulders, ever broad and imposing, are tense.

He spins on his heel and almost knocks right into Ellie, who trails mindlessly behind him.

“Dude!” She protests.

“We’re goin’,” he hisses under his breath, grabbing onto the handle of her backpack to drag her along with him.

You have to pick up your pace to keep stride with him, bounding through the trees. “Joel—”

“Don’t,” he snaps, releasing Ellie’s bag. She remains next to him without issue or question. “We gotta circle back to the road. Ain’t safe if there’s more people out here.”

“The road?” Your skin is warm, your breath coming short, but you keep your voice quiet as his, startled to stir the crunching leaves beneath your tired boots. “Joel, we got off the road ‘cause there were people —”

“I know why we got off the road.” His countenance is fierce, his resolve steely, but he still won’t look at you.

“It’s safer with the cover,” you insist behind him, a furious ire bubbling in the back of your throat. “Here we can — we can —” You’re gasping for air now, and Ellie notices, her steps faltering. She tugs on Joel’s jacket, wordlessly. You have to stop and brace your palm on the rough bark of the oak that shelters you, your vision narrowing to a tunnel of blurred, black edges and brown sodden ground.

You don’t know how he got there, but he appears in front of you, one hand gripping your bicep and the other pulling your own hand to his heart.

“Breathe,” he commands softly, and you try, you really do, but you know he sees the truth of it.

You’re fading, ability dulling quicker than an overused knife, and you can feel the panic crest in your mind, the sting of liability pricking at your consciousness.

“Sorry,” you struggle to say. He just takes an enormous breath, the cavern of his lungs expanding and exhaling underneath your hand. You follow the mountain of it, the in and the out and up and down, and it makes it a little easier to see again.

You drag your eyes up to meet his, shame and exhaustion omnipresent parents in your expression. He looks blown wide open, sad, maybe worried, but mostly so, so certain.

His grip on you tightens. “Let’s stay in the woods,” he whispers his acquiescence. You feel no kind of victory. You want him to argue with you, not the dark circles printed onto the skin under your eyes. That can’t be all you are now.

Joel tenses suddenly, eyes flicking from you up to the edge of the tree line. You think he’s about to grab you and Ellie and run when you hear a muffled shriek from behind him, his broad form blocking your sight. He whips around to reveal two women, one with golden-red hair and one with a knife to Ellie’s throat. Ellie struggles and swears and writhes. You freeze.

The golden-red-haired woman has a revolver pointed at the two of you. You can’t see Joel’s face, but you know that he’s furious. You almost hope it’s with you, hope it’s because you caused him to turn his back, to lose his focus. You want him to feel the way you feel.

“Quit it,” hisses the taller woman that has a hold on Ellie, like she’s speaking to an incessant fly rather than a young girl at her mercy.

“Let her go,” Joel says lowly, calmly. There’s no questioning a tone like that. “Then you and I can talk like adults.”

“We don’t want trouble,” the golden-red-haired woman responds smoothly, her fist around the revolver begging argument. “Just hungry. Just lookin’ for food.”

You don’t even think about whether you should, whether Joel has a plan. You keep your eyes on Ellie as she continues to squirm. She’s afraid, but maybe not as much as she should be. Her confidence in you crushes you. You dart forward to Joel’s bag, unzip it from where it rests on his back. You pull out the measly offerings - two more pieces of jerky wrapped in flaking paper. An old health bar. Some roasted acorns you had made that taste like bitter ash. You throw the food at their feet. Joel doesn’t stop you.

The woman holding Ellie narrows her eyes. “That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you plead. “You can check.”

You shoulder off your own, lighter pack and toss it to them. Joel glares at you, his fingers clearly itching towards his own gun tucked in the back of his pants, but you glare right back. Not with Ellie’s throat under a blade, you try to tell him with your fear.

The golden-red-haired woman bends down slowly to rummage through your bag, revolver still pointed your way. Joel shifts his weight while the woman looks down and she cocks the gun without even looking up, clicking her tongue in admonishment. Once she deems your supplies as paltry as you had claimed, she stands up, kicking the bag over, and slipping your meager offerings into her pockets. “Fine. Elaine, let her go.”

Elaine’s eyes flash like she’s considering an argument, and you try to calculate the distance from your hand to Joel’s gun, from the bullet to the spot between Elaine’s eyes, and the speed her lithe wrist would need to flick the knife across Ellie’s life.

Your action is decided for you when Elaine relents, shoving Ellie out of her grasp and forward to the forest floor. You’re there to catch her in your arms, her gangly limbs knocking painfully against yours, her furious demeanor tempered by your trembling.

You pull her back with you towards Joel, scrambling on the ground, and look up to see he’s drawn his gun. “Get movin’, then.” He bares his teeth at them.

Elaine moves to back away, but the other woman hesitates. Elaine nudges her shoulder with her own and hisses. “Madison.”

Madison looks between you and Joel as he helps you and Ellie up like she’s trying to decide something. Ellie seethes with derision and you have to clutch her to keep her from springing back towards her captors, this time on the attack. She only settles when she realizes she can’t lash out without hurting you, her fury still spitting but her face turning into your collarbone, probably more for your sake than her own. You rest your palm on her head. Joel’s got his free arm wrapped around you, too, sandwiching you and Ellie tight to his side.

Madison seems to decide and opens her mouth. “You know the way to Jackson?”

Elaine halts her retreat, brows furrowed and eyes clenched.

Joel holds his gun steady. “Get out of here.”

Madison continues to speak like she didn’t hear him. “Settlement out in Wyoming. My brother was headed there with an old army buddy. Heard they take people —”

She cuts off at the click of Joel’s safety. His finger rests on the trigger. He doesn’t say another word, just bores into her with eyes of molten lead.

Madison nods, and before you can blink, she and Elaine are gone. You’d almost believed you’d dreamed them up if your stomach didn’t turn at the thought of your reserves, now depleted.

Joel doesn’t let either of you move for a good ten minutes, his gun still raised and his arm still around you both. Ellie’s breathing has evened out and she turns her head up to look at you. You run a hand through her ponytail. “Okay?” You whisper. She nods, lips in a hard line.

You let her burrow herself back into you and look up at Joel. His thoughts race too fast to hide from his expression, and when he finally lowers the gun, he steps forward to grab your pack and swing it over his own shoulder.

His jaw grinds itself to dust as he stares at the ground, and it occurs to you what he might be agonizing over.

“Army buddy in Wyoming? Joel—” Your breath catches before you can really ask him. He looks up at you with hardened eyes and nods.

You let out a shuddering exhale, still rocking, rocking Ellie in your hold. The word rolls acidic off your tongue. “Jackson.”

—

It’s Jackson you’re headed for when the first shots ring out. You’re following the faded lines of a dusty map, hoping for the best. It’s brought you to a small town, several wooden buildings lining what must have once been a comfortable main road.

It’s not even that your guard is down, either — Joel had been antsier than ever after the run in with the women, especially since Ellie’s life had been on the line. She grumbles against his insistence, but you think she’s secretly appreciative of this mangled care, this devotion that no one before has extended to her.

They still get the jump on you, though, because they’re trying to get the jump on someone else. You glean somewhere during the shootout that it’s two opposing groups, both vying for the others’ resources. One had been holed up in the last building in town, the last one Joel had to clear before giving the signal. The other had been over the hill, peering down, waiting for their moment to ambush. They had thought Joel, ransacking and searching, was their target. It probably hadn’t mattered that he wasn’t.

You hear the shots before you know any of this, before you see anything that happens, so you follow protocol and grab Ellie and duck down behind a crumbling outpost, pushing her head under your cover. You peek over to see a torrent of people flooding out of that last building, the one Joel had been headed towards. Their guns are pointed away from you, up towards the peek where the last shot echoed from. Their shouts are incoherent, and your eyes search frantically for Joel. There’s no sign of him by the building, but there is a blooming red scar on the ground where he had been standing.

You feel a hand on your shoulder and spin around, knife raised high. It’s Ellie who stops you, grabbing around your middle, and swearing under her breath when she sees who’s startled you.

Joel’s managed to sneak around the back of the houses towards you, clutching his arm to his chest. Blood pours from between his fingers. His jaw is set as solidly as stone, and he jerks his head back towards the foothill you came from. He wants you to sneak back unseen, you’re sure, but you can’t focus on anything but the red viscous that flows from him, the life force, the cellular beat, and you feel it in you, too, you have that same blood growing in you, in your body, in your stomach, eating you alive to keep itself growing —

You reach your hand towards him, and he jerks back. All you can see is your hand, frozen in the air. He and Ellie must exchange words, something, but you don’t hear, the pounding of your eardrums too raucous, the rushing of your own tremulous blood overwhelming. He turns and crouches in on himself, hunched in pain or stealth, you don’t know. He runs on sure and quiet feet back towards the trees. Ellie only goes when you start behind him, like she’s not sure you can be trusted to follow.

—

You make it about half a mile up the side of the mountain before Joel’s using the trees to keep himself upright, the heft of him only supported by the roots at your feet. It’s Ellie who ends up stopping him and sitting him down, back against a bristled trunk. You waste no time falling to your knees beside him, whipping off your pack. Your hands shake as you riffle through it for the tweezers, for bandages, for anything that might help him. If only he still carried around oxy.

You pull out a small glass bottle of amber, stomach-churning liquid. Joel finds it in himself to shoot a judgmental glance your way, before his eyes are rolling back in pain. He keeps his arm clutched to his side.

“What?” You hiss. “It’s not like I can drink it anymore, of course I still have some.”

You flip the cap off as quickly as you can and pry his good arm away from the wound. It’s still bleeding profusely, an ugly, obscured fissure in the perfect planet of his skin. He makes a high sound in the back of his throat when you pour the moonshine over the wound, but his lips stay pressed tight together. When you’ve got it as clean as you can manage, you grab the tweezers. You can see the metal still buried in his flesh plain as day. You’ll have to get it out.

“Can I help?” Ellie flutters anxiously at your side, her hands lifting and retracting with directionless adrenaline.

You nod towards your bag. “Grab the bandages, then cut them into three strips for me.”

She doesn’t waste any time, and you turn back to Joel.

His skin is sallow, and sweat crusts his brow. You reach up to wipe some away with your thumb and his eyes flutter. “I’m gonna take it out.”

He nods, breathing heavily, expression unreadable. “I know.”

You search his eyes for any kind of direction, anything that would help him that he’s too reticent to admit. When you find nothing but grim determination, you grab the strap of your pack and offer it up to his mouth. He understands, and takes it gingerly between his teeth.

Your hands won’t stop shaking as you level the tweezers with the hole in his arm, so you balance your forearm across his chest. His great, heaving breaths push you up and down. You place the two tapered points of the tweezers as best you can on either side of the bullet, having to dig through some flesh. Joel keens under you. “I’m sorry,” you mutter, over and over, a mantra that pulls you forward into the next several minutes. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

It takes several attempts, and probably a whole lot more damaged surface area than appropriate knowledge would have allowed, but you’re able to finally wiggle the bullet out of its warm home. The silver pelts to the ground and bits of Joel’s muscle, along with a whole torrent of blood, flow from the pulsing circle. Ellie’s there with the bandages and you throw your whole body weight into pressing them against his arm. His eyes roll into the back of his head, you think he might be shrieking through the fabric at his teeth. “Just have to stop the bleeding,” you tell Ellie, or Joel, or maybe the wind. “It’s okay. It’ll stop. I’m sorry.”

Eventually, it does, or at least it slows. You remove the soiled, rust-colored fabric from Joel’s arm and wrap it up with the remaining bandages, but not before pouring more of the alcohol on it. He sobs, eyes squeezed shut, and Ellie clutches on to his uninjured shoulder, her eyes wild with fear.

“No sepsis, Ellie, that’s why,” you pant, breaking off another portion of the bandages with your teeth to secure it. His breathing calms when he seems to notice Ellie pressed up against him, her trembling fingers pulling the fabric from his mouth and pressing her face to his chest. His good hand holds her to him, clinging with a strength you’re relieved to see remains.

You go to wipe your filthy hands on the grass when you notice a spare bit of Joel’s gore on your thumb. You crawl as far away from Joel and Ellie as you can manage before spilling everything in you onto the bushes. You dry heave long after your stomach is empty.

—

You lie awake several nights later. Your back throbs against the unforgiving forest floor, your blanket wrapped around the top of you instead of padding the ground. Ellie snores softly on your right side, the tender puff of her breath singing through the frosty air. You wish you didn’t begrudge her the rest, a better person wouldn’t, but no matter how tired you get you can never seem to quiet the racing of your mind when the sun goes down.

You turn onto your side to see Joel lying next to you, flat on his back, eyes wide open towards the night sky above. He looks almost comical, bundled up to his throat and arm crossed across himself in an awkward approximation of healing. He spares you a brief glance, raising an eyebrow but saying nothing before he turns his gaze back to the branches that bow above you. He’s keeping watch best he can, but his injured arm is still in a sling, which means he can’t wield the rifle properly. He’s to wake you or Ellie if anything happens. You all know you’ll probably wake in the morning curled together like a three-pod cocoon, the greater threat to your person the chill of the wilderness.

You see your breath crystalize in front of you, even in the dull silver light of the moon, but you can’t see most of his face. He turns it from you, shrouded in shadow, like he does the rest of himself. You never know what he feels, never know where you stand. He had said he didn’t blame you, but it’s hard to believe him when he clearly harbors some kind of sorrow.

You don’t know if its the faux anonymity of the dark that gives you the courage or the delirium that your baby secretes into your bloodstream, but you almost feel inspired to ask him. Instead, you open your mouth and stick your whole entire foot into its waiting orifice.

“What did you think about abortions? Before the outbreak?”

The harsh of your whispering disturbs the tranquil blanket of night. He doesn’t move, doesn’t answer. His eyes don’t even shift to indicate he’s thinking about it.

“Because,” you rush to cover your clumsy footsteps, “you were from Texas. Everyone always said — I mean, I’m sure there were people everywhere that—”

“I don’t know.” He saves you from yourself, his cool, clean baritone soothing your spiked and frayed nerves. The baby pounds its fists against your insides braying like it had heard the word you uttered. You feel sick.

“Oh. Sorry.”

“No,” Joel continues, turning his head to look at you. “I mean, I don’t know because I don’t think I paid enough attention to that kind of thing. Sarah’s mom never even — considered — so I didn’t — ” His voice catches in his throat and he looks away.

You knew about Sarah, but not from him. Tess had whispered to you one putrid Boston night about his past, about Texas, about a daughter that hadn’t made it, which she only knew about from Tommy, but you’d never heard him say her name. You feel the scorching lick of shame about your heart, not having even considered what your current state would mean to him. One child, stripped away so cruelly from him, and here you were implying you’d thought about doing the same to another, but then again — maybe that’s what he’d want. To nip it in the bud, to end the pain before it could start.

You take a shuddering, bracing breath, but your voice still comes out meeker than you wish it would. “My sister told me about it. She said there was a place you could go in the QZ, some woman in the Fireflies. I don’t know how,” you admit, “but I kind of wish I did.”

“No,” he snaps, and you shrivel. “It never works out, especially not now. It would just kill you.”

You acquiesce. It makes sense. It seems too good to be true, a relic of medicinally sound days-gone-by.

“Sorry,” you say again, at a loss for anything more.

“Will you quit?” He huffs, and he surprises you, reaching out his good hand to latch onto yours. “Enough apologizin’.”

You can’t stop yourself from pulling his gloved palm even closer to you, into your chest, curling around it like you’re supposed to want to curl around this thing inside you, this parasite that eats away at you, this child you’ll evict from its warm, safe home, whether you want to or not.

He notices your reticence, turns on his side to face you, to coax your bile out of you.

“I feel sorry, though,” you whisper, blinking furiously, finding it hard to look right at him. “I don’t want it. I think I hate it, and I ought to feel sorry for that, right? That’s so awful, Joel. I’m so awful. But I’m so — I can’t —”

You shudder, and it’s like turning off. The tears you felt like crying halt their rise to the surface, and your breath slows. The blade of the hurt dulls, pricking instead of slicing, fading. It’s hard to hear him when he responds, hard to feel the gruff hand he lifts to cradle the back of your head. It only comes back into focus when he insists.

“Hey, listen to me.” He shakes you a bit, and with Herculean effort, you lift your heavy eyes to meet his. His expression is intense, pinched, and so, so beautiful.

“You’re not wrong, you’re not bad. I know this is hard. I know,” he shakes you again when your eyes start to glaze.

“Joel,” you breathe.

“Listen,” he says, fingertips pushing into the firm of your scalp, and you notice faintly that he’s abandoned his sling, that he’s pushed his pain aside to reach for you. “You’re doing better than you think you are. I see it, I see you fightin’. You’re not failing, darlin’. Not on my watch.”

You feel yourself nodding, not knowing where the internal command came from. “I know, Joel.” How do you tell him? How can he not understand that you trust him, just not yourself and your rotten, black heart?

He exhales harshly, searching your eyes for doubt, for something other than this flatness you feel settling over you. He gives in when he can’t find it, but his hand keeps rubbing your head, and you lean into it, relishing in the prick of his calluses. “Okay,” he says, then closes his mouth, opens it, shuts it again. His indecision pulls you back to the forest, back into the body you now share with another.

“What?” You venture, and his eyes alight, enthused to have found you in there.

“You ever been to Texas?” He says quickly, and he doesn’t blurt things, but maybe he did just then.

A startled laugh escapes your lips. The world shifts into focus, and the world is just his eyes, boring into yours. “Probably not. I don’t think we travelled much before the outbreak. Boston’s all I remember, besides a few summers in Maine.”

He lets out a low whistle, eyes flicking over to Ellie to make sure his sound hasn’t bothered her. She remains still, burrowed in the confines of her dreams. “Pretty different from Texas, then,” he says, and you laugh again, realer this time, easier.

“Colder,” you agree, “Even in the summer. We always had to bundle up next to the coast, even in July.”

“Nice though?” He prods into your memory with an iron poke, trying to keep you awake, keep you alive. Guide you ashore. The granite slopes wade into your mind, crashing waves and evergreen needles, a creaking Cape and damp, mossy mornings.

“Yeah,” you agree. “Really nice. Pretty quiet. Not many people, mostly just the deer and the gulls.”

His eyes flash, some emotion you can’t name, but it feels like it fits in the still blanket of space between you. “Maybe it wouldn’t have been such a bad place for a baby.”

You think of a child, toddling through the sand, tossing rocks into the water at your ankles. You think of a quiet life in a cove town, small but big enough for the three of you. You think of scribbled drawings on an antique fridge, of fatherly pride and big hands sweeping up a little girl, throwing her over his shoulder. Her lovely laugh peeling through the dunes.

You can’t help but smile. “Maybe you could have built us a cabin or something.”

He grins then, a real, full smile lighting up the planes of his face. You want to reach out and stamp it into your skin, hold this moment, suspend it in simplicity. “Big order for that. Think the invoice would be pretty intense. You plannin’ on compensating the vendors properly?”

You snort, curling his still-captured hand under your chin. “What, the baby’s not enough? Plus, your memory’s shot. Rural real estate isn’t anywhere near expensive as those city slickers liked to run you for.”

“I guess a nine month gestation is payment enough,” he says, and you feign to smack him, beaming.

“Three beds, three baths,” you continue. “One for us, one for the baby, one for visitors.”

He sucks in through his teeth. “Steeper and steeper, these costs. And it’s oceanfront, too?”

“Balsam fir,” you babble, the picture forming so seamlessly in your mind. “So it always smells clean. High ceilings — and a skylight! So we can still see the stars.”

Joel’s nodding, eyes shining. “Okay, okay, you’re right. Whatever you want. I owe ‘ya that much.”

Your heart skips a beat. You feel a giant spark smolder in your chest, so you tuck yourself into Joel’s side to share it with him. He carefully folds you into himself, stretching around the subtle curve of your abdomen that’s recently manifested.

Something unnamable pulses through you, through the bump, over to him. Before you drift off, you convince yourself you might have seen it in his eyes, too.

—

One stormy night in Boston, you’re helping Tess pack a couple of bags. The thunder cracks and you shiver, mind wandering to Katie, to where she might be sleeping that night, if she’s wet, if she’s cold. Tess hasn’t said much to you, her mind on her next move, her next haul; she’s particularly preoccupied with Joel’s absence, you think, but you don’t say anything. When her grim determination sets the precedent, there’s no getting around it. You wouldn’t want to pry, anyways.

She’s the one to finally break the silence. “He say anything to you before he left?”

You had been here at their place earlier in the day, while Joel was packing up to leave. He hadn’t said a word, had just brushed by you on his way out, your shoulder buzzing from the brief contact.

You shake your head. “No, I don’t even know where he was going.”

Tess hums, eyes flitting from the door to the radio against the wall. “Well, whatever. We can’t wait around all night. You hungry?”

Your stomach gurgles in response, carving deeper into the hollow pit of your abdomen. “Yeah,” you say, like there was ever any other answer.

Tess heats up the green beans with ham you had brought that day from your shift at the pantry. The corner of the can is dented, which is why no one cared that it had gone missing, but Katie had started rejecting the dented ones recently, saying botulism was a silent killer the Fireflies couldn’t afford to barter with. Your palms sweat. You’ve eaten so many like that, it’s probably fine. But what if this was the time it wasn’t? What if Tess ingests your poison and you’re the thing that kills her, after all she’s been through?

She doesn’t seem to care, dumping portions into two bowls and leaving the rest in the beat up tin pot on the stove. You both slurp in silence, letting the wash of sodium rush over your gums. You should have thought to add pepper, but getting up again feels too much like an inconvenience, and maybe a slight on Tess’s preparation.

You’re both jolted from complacency when Joel bangs through the front door, throwing it shut behind him and shouldering into the nearby bathroom before either of you can stand up.

“Joel?” Tess calls warily.

A moment of silence, then he responds. “Just a minute.” His voice is strained, slightly raspier than usual.

Tess immediately knows something is wrong, and you know because of the look on her face. “Fuck,” she mutters, and pitches towards the cabinets underneath the sink. She tosses you a couple of rags. “Will you go hand these to him, or get him to sit the fuck down? Where’s the disinfectant?” She starts muttering under her breath while she rummages around and you stand there uselessly, rags flowing limp between your fingers.

“Will you relax?” huffs Joel, emerging from the bathroom and moving stiffly to the kitchen table. You can’t help but gape at his complexion marred with bruising, the ugly discoloration above his eyebrow and around his jaw swelling to a reddened burst. Blood drips down his nose, around the contour of his rugged angel lips, then down onto the rotten floorboards underfoot. He sits, unable to hide a wince and a grunt, or maybe not trying. You’re still frozen.

Tess whirls by you, slipping the rags from your hands and settling next to Joel with a bottle in her hand. She wets one of the rags, then starts to dab at his face. He halfheartedly bats her hand away for a second, until she glares, then relents and lets her clean his face.

“You wanna explain yourself?” She murmurs lowly after a minute. Her voice spurs you into action. You want to help, want to stitch him together with your own sinew, dull his pain with a drug from your veins, but you don’t think he’ll take kindly to it. Tess has clearly done this before; even if she hadn’t, she’s comfortable, certain of where she stands with him. You can’t step into the space she takes up.

“Not really,” he mutters, a childish impatience squirming through him. You feel his own restlessness in your own feet; useless, you can’t just stand here. You turn to the stove, grabbing another bowl from the cabinet and doling him a portion of the sad green beans and ham. You grab the pepper, flaking a kick into his food that you’re sure he’s said he prefers, and turn to quickly set it down in front of him. Tess is done, grabs the rags to toss in the sink.

Joel seems confused. “We’re outta green beans.”

You grin at him, the flesh on your face feeling tight and out of place. “Good thing you’ve got a supplier.” You don’t say that you had stashed him a can extra even above your smuggling quota. You don’t mention it because you know he likes them better than any of the other shitty cans because they remind him of home, because they’re made down south, somewhere, because he can’t know that you know that about him, that you study him like he’s something worth knowing about. You can’t wear your love so openly like that, but you think he might see it leaking out of your porous heart anyways, because there’s a stern gratitude in his nod, in the bite he lifts to his mouth. Tess knows too, and squeezes your shoulder as she walks you out later.

“Thank you,” she says, “for doing that for him. He’ll never say it, but he’s grateful. I’m grateful. You’re a good kid.” Your heart beats faster. You can’t remember the last time someone said something like this, told you you were good, saw the care you hemorrhaged, and gave it back to you. You nod and head back to your own empty place, counting down the hours until you can see him again, until you feel like there might be a reason you’re here.

[nightwolf1429]

Jason Todd Canon Lore Stuff:

@jashjdh Ask and you shall receive! :D this is sort of part 2 to this post of mine, where I did the same thing for Dick Grayson. Here, since there are so many comics and so much conflicting lore, I read the fandom . com entry for the character and then type out the most important bits of what I learned, both to help myself remember it, and to teach others ^w^

!TW for Batman-like things, such as spoilers, mentions of injury and death, a brief mentions of drug use, a brief mention of sewerslide and r(😬)e, etc)!

•To begin with, a lot of people argue "Jason is the angry Robin!" Or, "Jason ISN'T the angry Robin!" I think for the most part, this misunderstanding happens because originally, Jason was a very calm kid. In his original appearances he had a similar backstory to Dick Grayson(Being an acrobat in the circus) and was much more chill, however in the post-crisis revamp, he became more violent and troubled. In the words of the wiki, "the post-Crisis Jason is impulsive, reckless, and full of rage."

•Jason lived a troubled childhood, with his father being a petty crook. His dad at one point served a jail sentence for his crimes, but even once he got out of jail, he never came back to the family. This left Jason alone, taking care of his drug-addicted mother. He would rip and remove the parts from cars around the city, selling them for cash to make sure they were fed and clothed. His mother eventually died from an overdose so he took to the streets, continuing to take apart cars for cash.

•One night he came upon the Batmobile parked in an alleyway. Batman had just replaced the tires, but had not yet put on his new custom hubcaps. Jason took this opportunity to snag the tires, and managed to get one and out of there before he came back for a second tire. This is when Batman caught him, hence the iconic interaction of him throwing his tire iron at Bruce and calling him a 'big boob' as he ran away.

•Batman tried putting Jason in a boarding school for troubled kids, however this didn't work out either because the owner of the school was actually running a program to train young criminals. When Batman busted the criminal operation, he decided that perhaps Jason's anger could be used for crime fighting, so he took him in because he was worried that if he didn't, Jason would become a criminal. While Jason wasn't an acrobat like Dick, he was strong, and had lots of skills from his time on the streets.

•On their first official mission together, though, it was revealed that Two-Face had killed Jason's father. Despite the fact that Jason's father had abandoned him, he was still enraged by this and he went on a rampage. However, he showed restraint when he allowed Two-Face to be arrested instead of killing him, which made Bruce very proud.

•As much as Jason was a good, enthusiastic student, he was also a very troubled one. His time on the streets had raised him with a tilted sense of morals, and with the tendency to lash out and get violent when threatened because of his street survival instincts. Because of this, Jason often had the opposite ideals and morals to his mentor. He tended to use excessive force when trying to stop criminals, such as how in one adventure he was asked to 'hold off' some villains, and he immediately shot at them despite Bruce's dislike of using guns.

•The most notable of these times was on the case of Felipe Garzonasa, a man who had r(😬)ed a woman, an event that led to her sewerslide. Jason tracked this guy down, and moments after Jason arrived, Felipe fell to his death off of his apartment balcony. While it was never confirmed nor denied, it's fairly possible that Jason pushed Garzonasa off, breaking Batman's no kill rule. (We love a man who respects women ✊)

•Bruce was so afraid that Jason was going to possibly kill someone, either intentionally or with his reckless actions, that he called Barbara Gordon and asked her to work a case with Jason, in an attempt to figure him out. They did work together, however Barbara could come up with no real way to help him, and simply warned Bruce that there was 'a darkness in Jason'.

•Jason eventually discovers that his mother was not actually his biological mother, so he runs away from home on a mission to find his real mom. He follows lots of leads, but eventually ends up in Ethiopia, finding his bio mother Sheila, working as an aid worker. He's incredibly happy to be reunited with his real mom, but he soon discovers that Sheila is being blackmailed by the Joker, being forced to supply him with medical treatment. Sheila herself has been embezzling funds from the agency, and to keep from getting caught, she directly hands Jason over to the Joker who brutally beats him with a crowbar and leaves him and Sheila in a warehouse with a bomb. Batman is unable to save them on time, and both of them perish in the explosion. Bruce is obviously devastated (and starts going crazy because of this a bit later on), and the bodies are both buried in Gotham City with the cause of death on Jason's death certificate being labeled 'smoke inhalation'.

•Jason is dead for at least a decade, his memory constantly haunting Bruce as his 'greatest failure', keeping Jason's Robin suit on display in the Batcave. Bruce begins to spiral over the thoughts that he himself had failed to train Jason properly, and that he had also failed to save Jason from the Joker. (Personal opinion, I don't know if I actually blame Bruce for 'Not saving Jason in time'? Because the way the wiki framed it, it made it seem like Jason ran away and didn't tell anyone that he was going to do this, plus I don't know how Bruce would've known that the Joker was blackmailing Sheila to begin with? Idk, maybe I'm missing some context here)

•Many years later, while Bruce is fighting with Hush, Tim gets kidnapped. When he confront the kidnapped it ends up being 'Jason', but it turns out that this version of Jason isn't Jason at all, and is just Clayface pretending to be Jason.

•Superboy-Prime, trapped in the Paradise Dimension, alters reality. This shift results in Jason's revival, as he's once again given life. He breaks his way out of his own coffin with his bare hands, and drags himself 12 miles before eventually collapsing (since he still has many lasting injuries from the Joker's beating). He's found at some point and hospitalized, where he stays in a coma for a full year, and even when he awakens he has amnesia. At some point he's recognized by a petty criminal, who informs Talia. Talia brings him to the Lazarus Pit, where she immerses him in the water where her father Ra's is also bathing. This restores Jason's memories and his physical health, however it's implied that the Pit's energy + Ah-Gul's energy messed with his mind and personality (Though it's always possible that these changes really just came from his trauma)

•Jason Todd takes up the mantle of Red Hood, and returns to Gotham City.

•Jason goes to find the Joker (who had been run out of town by Hush), and gives him a beating with a crowbar just as the Joker did to him, though he keeps the Joker alive to use him against Batman later on. He also assumes the control of several gangs, and starts a mini war against the Black Mask criminal empire. His general plan is to clean up the cities violence and drug dealings(probably because he doesn't want anyone to end up like his non-bio mother), as well as kill the Joker for revenge. Because of his intense and violent methods, he has many brushes with Batman. It's around this time that Bruce finds a Robin mask in the Batmobile, one that never belonged to Dick or Tim, but looked like a mask in the style of Jason's old Robin costume. He also realized at this time that Jason's coffin is empty, and that's when he starts to believe that Jason may have genuinely come back from the dead.

•Jason, hearing that Tim had replaced him and was supposedly a 'better Robin' then him, he got angry and broke into the Titan tower to confront him. Wearing a newer version of his own Robin costume, Jason makes quick work of immobilizing the other Titans. He was absolutely furious that there was no memorial for him in the Hall of Fallen Titans (Despite the fact that he was only a Titan for a very short time), Jason demands Tim tell him if he was really as good of a Robin as Jason himself was, and Tim stubbornly says 'Yes' before he passes out. As Jason is leaving the tower, he rips the 'R' logo from Tim's costume. However, it's revealed in the epilogue of that comic that Jason actually holds some respect for Tim now, begrudgingly saying an "I'll admit. He's good." As he ponders how he could've been a better Robin had he acted more like Tim.

•At some point Jason kidnaps the Joker and uses him to lure Bruce to Crime Alley, where they had first met all those years ago. Jason is of course angry that Bruce never 'properly avenged' him by killing the Joker, since Jason believed that Bruce would because the Joker had "Taken me away from you". Bruce explains that it would've been easy for him to kill the Joker, that he continuously fantasized about taking the Joker away, torturing him and eventually killing him, but that he wasn't willing to cross that line (Partially because he wasn't willing to stain the memories he had of Jason [that he clung so tightly to while losing his sanity] with blood). Jason decides on a deal. Either Bruce kills him, or he will kill the Joker. So he holds one gun to the Joker's head and gives the other to Bruce, counting to three. However Bruce, obviously not wanting to kill Jason but also not wanting Jason to commit this crime, uses a Batarang to cut down an object that ends up slicing Jason's throat. The Joker uses this time to detonate some explosives and plunge both of them into the waters. (I don't even know what to say about this part, I have a lot of opinions here. I will say though, I think that if Tim hadn't become Robin, Bruce might've legitimately killed the Joker.)

•Jason shows up again after about a year, now as an evil version of Nightwing. Jason uses this costume to taunt Dick, suggesting the two become a crime fighting team, but Dick refuses because he doesn't want to be associated with Jason's violent methods. Not long after, Jason is kidnapped by unknown mobsters. Dick, albeit hesitantly, saves him, and they team up to defeat the Pierce brothers. After the fight Jason leaves New York and drops the Nightwing mantle, leaving Dick a telegraph that says he has returned to normal, and that he still considers Dick family.

•Jason's kidnaps a girl named Mia, wanting to convert her to his side since they both had somewhat similar pasts and he feels they're kindred spirits. She refuses, so he blows up her high school. (WTF JASON???? 😭)

•I dunno how to explain this one too much, but basically he went on a mission with a Monitor that he called Bob? And he met an alternate reality version of Batman, who had started killing after Jason's death.. And then the Darkseid thing happens and Batman 'dies', which makes Jason absolutely furious (Because he cares about Bruce despite not agreeing with the way that he handled things back when he died).

•Jason, back as Red Hood, tries to take control of some gang wars to calm things down, but it actually makes things worse. Since Batman is supposed to be dead, and Nightwing is unavailable, Tim is the one who has to help clean up the mess. Jason asks to team up, but Tim refuses because of Jason's questionable methods. Due to a combination of some things, Jason gets shot in the leg and arrested. When the gang war is resolved, Tim stops by the prison Jason was in, using a disguise and a fake name to deliver Jason the code that will let him out of his cell because he believes Jason deserves a chance at redemption.

•After his escape Jason is summoned to the Batcave, where he is brought in to hear his part of Bruce's Last Will and Testament for him(Y'know, since Bruce is supposedly dead lmao). He listens to Bruce's final piece as he talks about out of all his failures, Jason was his biggest, and how he regretted not getting Jason actual help or showing much empathy over him hardships, instead dressing him up and having him fight. Unfortunately this heartfelt message is what makes Jason fully snap.

•Jason began dressing up in a Batman-like outfit, leaving slips of paper saying 'I AM BATMAN' where he worked, however he used much more aggressive and lethal forms of punishment on the criminals he fought. Due to the violent nature of his vigilantism, Nightwing and Damian are after the fake Batman. Dick figures put pretty quickly that the imposter Batman is Jason, and after an argument, Jason shoots Damian. Tim is also searching for the fake Batman at this time, dressing up as Batman as well to demonstrate how Bruce would've really acted. Tim finds Jason's fake Batcave, but has to be saved from a boobytrap by Catwoman. Jason returns to his 'cave' and finds them there, impaling Tim with a Batarang. Dick and Jason fight, with Jason thinking and claiming that Tim is dead, while Damian and the Squire are actually busy saving Tim. Dick kicks Jason off a moving train, but when he tries to pull Jason back up to safety(Because he still considers him family, just as Jason does him), Jason refuses his help and falls to his 'death', while claiming they'll meet again soon. This is when Dick becomes Batman.

•When Jason returned, having survived the fall, he decided to become direct competition to Batman and Robin, making it his mission to get to all of the criminals before them and become the new Gotham Hero. He even got his own sidekick, a girl named Scarlet. Jason was very public about this, posting things on social media, talking about how killing the villains was the best way to do it, and a lot of people actually agreed. At one point Jason kidnapped Dick and Damian, locked them up and stripped them both naked(😰), claiming online that if the post got enough attention, he'd reveal Batman and Robin's secret identities. However his plan was interrupted by an assassin names Flamingo, that he and Scarlet weren't strong enough to beat. Dick and Damian escaped and saved them from death, though Damian got pretty seriously injured.. Jason just ran Flamingo over with a truck- Jason was taken into police custody and as they took him away, he claimed that if the Lazarus Pit could revive him, why couldn't it revive Bruce too?

•After Bruce's revival, Jason files an appeal to Arkham Asylum, wanting to be released because the tests show that he's perfectly sane, just willing to kill. He ends up being transferred to a Gotham prison, where as soon as he arrives, the sewerslide rates spike and there are several homicides(Though these mainly occurred in self defense from Red Hood killing people in the prison who attempt to kill him first). On top of this, Jason poisons the food and kills 82 inmates, making 100 more sick. He's immediately taken back to Arkham Asylum, but is quickly broken out by some mercenaries. Jason breaks free from the mercenaries and fights them off as Batman and Robin arrive. At the end of this mission, Red Hood and Scarlet escape in a helicopter, warning Bruce and Damian not to chase them because he planted bombs all over the city months ago, and he's willing to detonate them. Dick doesn't do anything about, deciding that Jason was lying about the bombs, and that even if Jason decides to do better he'll only rejoin the family when he's ready to.

•Jason, trying to reform, forms his own hero team called the Outlaws. He changes the red symbol on his chest to a bat, a sign of his somewhat awkward but slowly-beginning-to get-back-on even-ground relationship with the Batfamily. The costume he now wears also used to belong to Dick. His relationship with Tim is now at least neutral, if not a little friendly, as the two can be seen eating together and making some jokes. However his relationship with Bruce is still strained, and a bit hostile. While he keeps his aggressive and lethal style of fighting, he now only uses it when he believes necessary, and doesn't always shoot the second he sees a problem.

•At some point his team disappears, and he goes back to being a solo hero.

Extra Fun Fact! Because of the Lazarus Pit, Jason no longer ages and he heals much much faster then a normal human!

TAADAA! I might do more if I get the motivation ^w^

[atom-writings]

hello! how would netherlands, luxembourg and russia like to spend their honeymoon with their s/o? or, what would the wedding look like?

hetalia netherlands, luxembourg, and russia wedding / honeymoon headcanons

0.6k words ~ gender neutral headcanons

tw: none!

a/n: guys im trying to get back on schedule :sob: i have asks from almost a year im so sorry

Netherlands

When it comes to Abel, neither his wedding nor honeymoon would be big.

For the wedding, there’s no more than, like, 5 people invited. He would’ve preferred a sudden in-and-out wedding if it weren’t for how public it was, regardless of how un-romantic it is for you.

Instead, you can invite people if you want, and you’ll be having a quick, private ceremony in the woods. Probably only with nothing, except like, 2 chairs for “an emergency” (He won’t elaborate on that.)

He also wouldn’t dress up either way, unless it were vitally important to you. He wants to be as true to who he is when he vows to be with you for as long as you live, and he is not a tuxedo guy.

Weirdly enough, it’s how much he cares about the wedding that makes him so weird about it. It’s very important to him, and that means everything has to be as authentic and intimate as possible. So, that means a weird awkward wedding.

Of course, that’s just if he gets his way. But he’s surprisingly lenient with his S/O with most things (as long as it’s not too expensive.)

For future reference, he is most susceptible to puppy dog eyes and “pretty please.”

As for the honeymoon, there’s no way he’s putting any effort into it. You can plan it, but he’s not paying and he’s not helping you guys get there. His ideal honeymoon is a night in and watching a movie he pirated, but whatever you want is fine too.

What he wants to do though is a lot of cliche boring stuff, like going sightseeing, hiking, and visiting museums. Notice how all of it is free? That’s the main idea here. Although, he does love camping regardless of how cheap it ends up being. Lets him show you how much of a man he is <3

He’s not travelling though. Leaving the country is out of the question. The important part already happened, why are you making such a big deal out of it?!

Luxembourg

The exact opposite. Laurent is renting out a significant chunk of his capital city to throw the biggest, most extravagant, most expensive modern wedding in the world! He may be a busy man, but he’s always willing to put away plenty of time for his beloved.

If you like planning events, you two will work together for many months making sure everything is perfect. But if you don’t, he’ll take it all on himself to ensure everything goes perfectly.

But with that, he’ll become really stressed. He wouldn’t snap at you (because after all, it is all for you,) but he’s no fun when he’s that worked up. It’s better if you help.

Especially since he wants your wedding to have great symbolic meaning. Having it represent the shared vision of your future together is his first- well… second priority.

The honeymoon afterwards would be much the same, although he also wouldn’t want to travel too far. Once the spectacle is over, he just appreciates the excuse to do nothing but spend time with you without any pressure.

Preferably trying a bunch of new food, going shopping, and going to stereotypical couple-y activities, like dance classes.

He may seem upbeat, but Laurent is surprisingly melancholic around the time of your wedding. For as excited as he is (which is very,) he can’t help but feel worried about how much time he’ll have with you.

But it shouldn’t get him down too much. He's still riding the high of seeing you in your wedding attire <3

Russia

Ivan would want a very, very, very traditional Russian wedding if you’d be fine with that. Unlike a lot of other nations, he’s never been married before, so he’s very stressed about getting to do every single thing he never got to before.

You’d swear he abandoned you for months before the wedding as he’s panickedly running around the country trying desperately to throw everything together. Half the ceremonies he wants to do haven’t been done for centuries, and he really doesn’t understand why he can’t have live cannon fire at his wedding!

Maybe just pat him on the head and tell him you’ll love him even if you can’t sacrifice 20 goats during the ceremony.

But once the stress (and awkwardness as all of his former friends are forced to attend,) is over, he’s whisking you away for a months-long vacation. Preferably somewhere bright and warm but really; he doesn’t care where you want to go, anywhere is alright, as long as it’s far away from everything you two have to worry about regularly.

His favourite things to do with you while on vacation are really stereotypical, like going to the beach, going to scenic locations, and falling into every tourist trap.

He tries to be as romantic as possible through all of that, but he can’t help being awkward and giddy after you two are finally married.

[buffkitties]

Ok, if you want questions: what are some of your komaeda/komahina hcs? Maybe postgame, more specifically?

I have a lot of post-game headcanons and I always base them around something from canon. When it comes to Komahina, I need to explain my thought process here first. The Sdr2 cast are not exactly the healthiest group and they aren't all true friends. After healing, they would slowly fall apart and lose contact with each other, except for a few people keeping in contact, such as Hinata and Komaeda, and maybe Souda and Kuzuryuu would be in contact with them too, but they wouldn't talk or meet too often, and then maybe Saionji and Koizumi would keep in contact, but everybody would go their own ways. The reason they didn't at first is because they all have a trauma bond. So.

I think Komaeda and Hinata would settle down somewhere in a town or a quieter part of the city because they would still be recognised as remnants, and because it would be more comfortable for them to be away from a bigger population. I can see them getting married and living a boring, normal life, like they both would want at that point. The one thing that Komaeda wanted the most was to have that kind of life, and Hinata would most definitely prefer that by that time, too.

I think Hinata would have a big problem with expressing himself properly, be it facial expressions or the way he talks. I always imagined that he wouldn't be able to find a comfortable way to show his emotions through his face, and if he smiled, it would look forced or absolutely awkward. His voice would be monotone and pretty unreadable.

Because his identity was erased and nobody knows Hinata for who he truly was, he would get called Izuru Kamukura a lot, and people would often assume that he changed his name to Hajime Hinata. He wouldn't really speak on it, but it would make him uncomfortable and his mood would drop really fast, especially if he was genuinely enjoying something. A lot of people most likely idolise him when speaking to him, and even if they don't make it obvious, there is always that undertone in the way they talk to him which gives away that they think of him as Izuru Kamukura or see him for his talent. Komaeda would have none of that. Komaeda is very known for not tolerating bullshit and interfering when he sees the need to (ex: Hanamura harassing Sonia) and he wouldn't have to be told twice. He would jump into the conversation the moment he noticed, and he would make it very clear that he won't tolerate them making Hinata uncomfortable and that they were being weird.

I think Hinata would keep his hair short. He would never let it grow out because it would make him uncomfortable to even think about it, even if he doesn't outright admit it. He would also keep his bangs long enough to cover his scar.

Komaeda would abandon his beliefs. After everything that happened, he could not, realistically speaking, hold onto his coping mechanism, and after healing, I imagine his mindset became just like everybody else's. He would still get panic attacks about his luck every now and then, and both him and Hinata would suffer bad cases of derealisation and depersonalisation, but they would be there for each other, and even just being with each other would be a great help. They're horrible with words.

I always imagined that they'd live a bit more of a traditional life, to be honest, but they would live on their own terms. They'd buy a house for themselves and make a home of their own.

They would never be parents. They wouldn't be bad parents, in fact, they would be great, but neither of them would be able to handle that sort of responsibility, and after everything they went through, caring for another living being would make them uncomfortable and put a lot of unnecessary expectations on them. Komaeda would not want somebody who he loves so much to die, either, because Hinata might be immune to his luck, but other people aren't.

When Komaeda isn't around, Hinata acts more like he did during the tragedy. I always imagine he's drier and uninterested in people and social interactions, and he's more vulnerable to being manipulated or taken advantage of, especially verbally. Despite how uncomfortable it would feel, without somebody to remind him of who he was, he would subconsciously slip back into the mindset he had when he was turned into a tool, nothing more. For that reason, and the fact that he still wouldn't be able to find pleasure in a lot of things, I imagine that he doesn't enjoy leaving or going somewhere on his own. Komaeda, too, probably wouldn't feel comfortable, not only because of his luck, but because he would be shunned much more than before, since he's recognised for being a remnant. I doubt they'd leave each other's sides a lot.

I think Komaeda would take care of Hinata more than Hinata would take care of him. I can see Hinata struggling with a lot of things, especially after all the torment he went through. I also like to imagine Komaeda giving him baths and doing small things like cutting his hair for him, mostly because it would be his way of showing affection, even if Hinata can do them himself. Hinata would let him because he would find comfort in it and because it would make him feel loved.

I don't think they would kiss on their lips or do anything too intimate most of the time, if I'm being honest. Their kisses would mostly consist of cheek kisses, hands, forehead... etc. When it comes to Hinata, I like to write Komaeda kissing him on the corner of his mouth, the side of his forehead, and the back of his palm near where the wrist starts. I can still see them doing more intense stuff sometimes, though, because it would give Hinata the stimulation that he still still lacks very much.

Speaking of affection, they wouldn't be too touchy either. I think most of the time they would just sit with each other, coexisting in silence or watching each other do things. They would communicate through facial expressions and gestures, and it would get to the point that if either of them smiled at the other, they would smile back instinctively and even if they felt tense, that worry would just fade away. I think they share a lot of glances, especially when interacting with other people. They don't need words.

Hinata would wear contacts, at least for a while. Nobody but Kamukura has that eye colour, and even having it on one of his eyes would feel strange. It wouldn't change anything, though, his appearance never changed. His face never changed. Not even when he became Izuru Kamukura. Precisely because of that, people would just continue seeing him as him because they don't know who he was before that and his face will always be associated with him.

I think Hinata would teach Komaeda a lot of things, such as cooking, etc. And I think Komaeda would do those things for the two of them often because, again, Hinata would feel loved when he did. I like to imagine that both of them do it, but Komaeda does it most of the time. They would also make a lot of small gestures for each other, especially after or during bad days, even if it was something as simple as preparing breakfast for the other, or making them a drink and then staying in the room, doing their own thing.

Komaeda big spoon. Hinata small spoon. He definitely holds him close to himself like he's the most precious thing in the world to him, and Hinata feels more at ease in his arms and he couldn't imagine a place where he feels more loved.

They hold hands a lot. Hinata canonically finds holding hands very special, and I think they would just do it a lot, and it would become a natural thing for them. Sitting together and eating while holding hands, lying down with each other holding hands, walking holding hands, etc.

I imagine that Komaeda would be stronger post-game because during the tragedy, he needed to learn survival skills and things that would help him live through a literal apocalypse. His voice would be breathier/wheezier due to all the pollution and overall the state of the world during those times, too.

I think Komaeda would struggle with a compulsion to make sure he wasn't truly dead. Obessively checking himself in the mirror, even a few times a day, looking over every place on his body, because what if one day, he looks at himself, and he finds out he's dead? Or he will look at himself and see himself rotting? The smallest imperfection on his skin would drive him to obsessive checking. In contrast, I think Hinata would avoid mirrors, because looking at himself and seeing that he wasn't really himself, was not something he wanted to happen.

They're very dear to me

[oddberryshortcake]

Twst analysis & theory- General Lilia and the Seeker of Cradles

In chapter 7 part 3, MC dreams about when Maleficent’s goons tell her that they can’t find Aurora, they also dream about Aurora being told she’s a princess by the three good fairies, but the most important connection I’ve made is what General Lilia Vanrouge and the other dark fae soldiers were doing in the woods during Lilia’s dream. 

I think the dream is of a memory of when Lilia first found baby Silver, or rather, searched for. 

Maleficent’s goons (two of whom Lilia is based on design-wise and also is emulated on his helmet) are tasked with finding baby Aurora so Maleficent can make sure her curse comes to fruition. 

It’s very obvious now that Silver is twisted from Aurora. We know he was “found” abandoned in the woods, that he was found with a beautiful ring in the shape of Aurora’s crown, and has been associated with Aurora’s aesthetic and woodland friends since the beginning of the game. 

He’s most likely a lost prince, either deliberately left for his safety or because something awful has already happened to his parents.

The fae and humans of Briar Valley do not get along. It’s understandable that there are tensions between the two, and there’s a history of conflict. 

It’s possible Malleus’s grandmother knew Silver was a human prince and, whether in war or an act of revenge, wanted Silver killed or cursed and sent soldiers and the Nightmare General Vanrouge to go find him. 

There’s a chance Lilia could hate humans during the time that the dream takes place, or he could be saying such to save face around the other guards/to please Maleficia. 

Either way, Lilia’s newest title names him the “Seeker of Cradles,” and I believe he and the other guards are doing just that. (X)

That brings me more towards theorizing and taking elements from Sleeping Beauty and connecting it to the unfolding plot. 

Lilia is out here on a search to find and possibly harm Silver…But obviously he doesn’t do that. 

He has a change of heart, or maybe he had always planned on saving Silver from harm’s way. 

He raises Silver alone in a cottage located in the middle of nowhere. Silver grows up isolated, only ever interacting with Sebek and Malleus. He recently confirms in his Broomquet vignette that he literally has no idea what goes on in the city of his own country because he’s always lived deep in the woods…Just like Aurora. (X) (notice Aurora overlooking the castle town, the same view Silver describes from his home)

Lilia seems to purposefully keep Silver in one place, with the exception of bringing him to NRC (something I’m sure he or Malleus had to arrange.) Lilia wanted Silver to enjoy Halloween as humans do, but instead of letting him interact with other humans, he trick or treated alone with Lilia, walking around their cottage. 

This is similar to how Aurora grew up isolated and alone in her own cottage with the three good fairies. They also discouraged her from interacting with other people and just like Silver, she relied on animals to be her companion. 

Lilia himself has greatly changed his appearance, from his hairstyle, hair color, and also his voice. He claims that he’s leaving the Valley to go into retirement and to avoid orders from Maleficia; we know his magic is draining- but how much of that could’ve been attributed to protecting Silver?

The good fairies made themselves humans in order to best protect Aurora, could that Lilia’s goal as well?

Silver is already theorized to be cursed, so how much of Lilia’s magic went to keeping that curse at bay? 

How much of Lilia’s magic went to keeping Silver safe? Keeping him away from the prying eyes of fae who hate humans? Who wants this innocent little prince dead?

How much of Lilia’s magic went into changing his appearance? To make a distinct difference between the general and loyal servant of the Draconia family and a loving fae father to a human child. 

I could be super wrong about all of this, but when I see the similarities, I can’t help but just think further and try to discover all the secrets. 

Genuinely hoping that I’m right about Lilia’s dream being about finding Silver. I hope we get to see Lilia become a father, and I hope Lilia has been doing everything he can to protect Silver and not because he wants to do something nefarious with him. As if he hasn’t and isn’t going to suffer enough. 

tldr- Lilia is searching for Silver under Maleficia’s orders, likely to harm him, but gets a change of heart and raises Silver in secrecy to protect him in his dream.

[unknownchoatic]

high school au thoughts, more under the cut:

Horror is terrified of dogs. doesn’t matter how big/small or how aggressive/nice they are, he hates them. and he has his own trauma related to dogs but like it feels a bit silly- cause horror is massive and has part of his face mauled off and he looks like an overall tough guy, but he sees a little purse dog and freaks out. he does better with smaller dogs than big ones. he’s weary of small dogs, but if he sees a larger breed he will freak out. and he lives in an area where stray dogs or like unleashed slightly feral dogs are pretty common. also theres been a fee police investigations (with, you guessed it, police dogs) and that freaks him out.

Dust hates cars. thats how his dad and brother were killed, so like that’s understandable, but its legit a problem. other modes of transportation are fine, boats, plains, trains and shit he has no problem with, but cars and trucks will give him panic attacks. buses are a 50/50, it just depends on the day. for the first few years after his dad + brothers death he really couldn’t do cars because he was also in the accident, but other than a few scrapes Dust was fine. and then later he still really doesnt like cars. on car rides he’ll be shaking and very obviously panicked. and like, he lives in a city. cars are everywhere and though you can walk places you can’t avoid cars. also if he sees a car crash he will have really bad panic attacks and also flashbacks to when his dad + bro were killed. also also yk when whoever is driving has to slam on the breaks or like if a car is going rlly fast and swerving a bit, well any type of motion like that will freak Dust out

Killer is very afraid of being abandoned. this comes from being in the foster system. cause like his mom died and then he was stuck in the system going in and out of homes. and like normally hes fine as long as Killers with other people but if someone has to leave for whatever reason he gets this intense wave of panic and fear and abandonment. its worse when hes in the hospital. cause hes left alone for days on end and like there are nurses and stuff, but they’re working and doing their job. and like he has really big health issues so he spends a lot of time alone in hospital beds and missing class time in the nurses office.

Cross is terrified by the idea that he is a failure or that he didn’t do good enough. he comes from an abusive and also neglectful household, the only time he has positive feelings associated with Xgaster being when he does a goof job. but with that comes dread and fear and panic at the idea of him doing anything wrong. and if he cant do a task, he’ll break down. like one time he had a full blown panic attack over not understanding a math equation in the middle of class. bc hes smart, he knows this stuff, he should be doing better.

ironically, Nightmare hates hospitals. cause like he spends so much time in them. or a while he would have surgeries that were planned so that they would happen on breaks- that way he would miss less school. but half the stuff he’s have done weren’t necessary. he associates hospitals with pain and being on strong pain meds and just doesn’t like bring there. (Dream also doesn’t like hospitals because he views them as why Nim pays more attention to Nightmare (Nim is like kinda neglectful towards Dream and very overprotective of Nm))

this was fun i might do more of these

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

A Danish Werewolf in The City

Sihtric's Lore.

Note: additional lore to my werewolf!Sihtric fic. 

Warnings: 18+! horror/gore/murder described.

Pairing: none, just Sihtric.

Wordcount: 1,7k

Masterlist

Sihtric's eyes darted over the cut out pieces of newspapers, after he had taken the old shoebox they were kept in out of his last moving box. The lid had come off during the travel to his current location; his brand new house in a brand new city. He had recently bought the place as he had obtained a new job as a vet, another attempt to start all over again after his turbulent life. Sihtric had moved towns often in his lifetime, in order to keep his werewolf identity hidden, but now that he was a fully grown man and had his werewolf urges under control, he hoped he could finally settle down and stay in one place. It was the first day of his new life, but he would never be able to run away from his past completely, and he couldn't ignore the headlines that stared up at him.

He had kept all the news articles about his gruesome doings over the years, tucked away in the shoebox and always kept hidden far under his bed, wherever he resided at. The cut outs weren't trophies to him, like how some serial killers kept items of their victims as a fond memory of their deeds, in fact, these articles were the complete opposite to him.

Sihtric wasn't proud of his murders, and had kept the printed memories as a reminder that he never wanted to become like the beast from his past again. He never wanted to attack or murder again, with the exception of slaughtering wild animals which he simply needed to feed on in order to survive and still his hunger for blood. But never again would he want another innocent human-like being to be at the receiving end of his werewolf claws. He never wanted to kill again for no reason, nor if the reason was purely being revenge. But most of all, he simply never wanted to turn into his father, who had abandoned him from his pack and tribe.

Sihtric sat down on his bed and looked at the pages he had kept. Vivid memories came back to him as he could never forget awful murders he had committed and the horrendous attempts he had made to break the werewolf curse passed onto him. But nothing ever worked and he remained cursed until this very day. He had to live with the weight of his dark and bloody past on his shoulders for as long as his heart would continue to beat. Yet that weight was barely a punishment in Sihtric's eyes, for if anything, he felt his punishment should be death.

But death would be mercy, a mercy he did not deserve.

Sihtric was barely 18 when his first shift happened during a full Moon. And it had happened in the small room he rented just on the outskirts of town, for the city centre was a place he could not afford to live in. Nor did he want to, as he tried to keep a low profile and did not need much space either. 

The small room, which belonged to a lovely old and retired couple, was located on the second floor of the house. His room held a single bed, an old tv and a clothing cabinet, all of which were used by many strangers before him as they came with the room. He also had a sink with stains on it that wouldn't come off, and a half broken mirror hung above it. There was a tiny improvised kitchen in the corner of his room, underneath the only window he had which couldn't open fully because a cupboard blocked it. The kitchen came with an old microwave too, which he used to warm up quick meals with every day, and the device was clearly a fire hazard.

His room was old and musty, with a worn out wooden floor while black mold decorated parts of the ceiling and walls. Sihtric had covered up the black patches on the wall with some posters, which he had secretly ripped out of a few car magazines in the shop down the street. The bathroom next to his room was shared with the old couple, who lived downstairs, and he occasionally passed them as he went up to his room. The couple liked Sihtric because he was quiet. They could tell he was troubled but, as he never really opened up to them, they let him be and never complained as long as he paid his rent in time. Sihtric was still young and struggled to afford living with the money he had, which he earned by delivering newspapers in the very early morning, before the town would wake.

Several full Moons before his first shift he began to notice a change inside of him. He always knew he had werewolf blood inside of him, as his father, Kjartan, was cursed to be a werewolf. Technically Sihtric belonged to the tribe of his father, but he was abandoned as a young boy, for his mother had been human and died while giving birth to him, and his mother was not married to his father. Kjartan was married to a werewolf lady but had committed adultery, with Sihtric as result and being a permanent reminder. A permanent reminder he wanted to forget, and so Sihtric was neglected and forced to leave the pack he never really seemed to belong to. And looking back, Sihtric was glad he got away from his father, for his father was a brutal killer, a foul beast, and he was nicknamed Kjartan the Cruel for his many cruel deeds to the innocent, both human and other creatures.

After Sihtric's painful first transformation, he felt incredibly powerful. He was in luck, for the old couple was away for the weekend during the full Moon, so they never heard the bone chilling sounds that came from his room as he snapped out of his skin. Sihtric was confused once transformed, but also hungry. So very hungry. And he had jumped out of his window, shattering the glass as he went through it before landing on all fours on the well kept lawn, and he then leaped around the neighbourhood, finding his way to the city centre as the scent of fresh human meat lured him…

Sihtric's first kill was an awkward one, for he had no idea yet of how to control the beast he had turned into. He had sniffed out a meal, a student he found out a week later after the body was discovered, and he had stalked his prey while disguised as a black wolf. He followed the young man as he left the city and went into the quiet streets. It was dark and chilly outside, and Sihtric learned that night that winter time was an awful time for werewolves. 

Before the student could reach his front door, Sihtric had shifted into his gruesome werewolf form and, standing back on his large and hairy hind legs, he snatched the neck of the student's coat and hauled him into the darkened woods nearby. The terrified young man was silenced by his own fear upon seeing the hideous werewolf, while being dragged down to the thick trees and bushes, and what was supposed to be a fast kill ended up being a torturously slow one. The werewolf clawed at his thick coat, and its inner white fluffy filling was pierced by the monster's claws. Sihtric struggled to scratch the man's throat, for a thick scarf was wrapped around the neck and his claws were dull, as the coat's filling had gotten stuck to the sharp edges of his nails. Sihtric then lunged at his victim with his two hands, scratching the poor man's face all over until the body eventually laid lifeless underneath him after a cruel struggle.

Sihtric then tore off the scarf and ripped open the dead man's throat, blood spraying all over his dark fur as he tried to drink it as fast as he could. Sihtric groaned darkly as the blood began to spray less and less, and he used his large tongue to lick the remaining blood off the torn open neck. And then, still hungry, he attempted to tear off the thick winter coat, but it seemed impenetrable for the inexperienced werewolf. Sihtric fought with the zipper in the hopes of simply unzipping the coat, but his claws were too long to get a good hold of it and he lost his patience. He snarled and growled loudly, then delved his teeth in the coat and shook the lifeless body like a ragdoll until all upper clothing was completely torn. And then, on that dark and cold night, under the silver glow of the full Moon, the werewolf helped himself to the insides of his prey. And when his hunger was stilled and his dark fur smudged with blood and guts, he howled loudly at the Moon.

Sihtric had no idea how he had returned home after his feast, nor had any recollection of the fact he had apparently licked himself clean while in wolf form. All he remembered was that the old couple woke him up the next morning as he was asleep in their backyard. They were baffled at the fact Sihtric hadn't died of hypothermia, as they thought he had gone to a bar and returned drunk, having lost his keys and somehow all his clothes too on the way back, before he had fallen asleep on the lawn. Sihtric was embarrassed when he discovered he was without clothes, and he had a raging headache while the old lady was quick to wrap him in a warm blanket made of sheep wool, before preparing him some warm soup.

When the old man asked about the broken window, Sihtric slowly began to remember the night before and simply lied, saying he had no clue and that it must have happened when he wasn't home. His story made no sense at all to the couple, but then all of this could've happened to any young man who got drunk on Saturday night. 

Except they would never know that Sihtric had gotten drunk on human blood instead of alcohol. And they would never know he was the cause for the missing student, who was found dead in the woods a week later, an horrific event that shocked the entire city.

And for Sihtric… this was only the start of a very bloody, confusing and violent future.

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[ant1quarian]

I THOUGHT YOU MIGHT LIKE TO KNOW MORE ABOUT MY DUSTS :D

Because to be honest, they need more development

Mafiadust - or Soot.

He always lived in a very violent society overruled by a weak government, gangs, and the mafia. He was part of the mafia at a very young age, worked his way up, and when he realised just how fucked his society was, he murdered everyone.

He now roams the streets of the abandoned city and also any city next to him as an incredibly imposing figure that scares the shit out of anyone who takes time to look at him.

He radiates danger. (And his LV is much, much higher than 20.)

Witherborn Dust - or Fallout

Fallout killed his parents. And his brother. And he has a very long history of killing anyone that steps foot in his territory. He's silent, lethal, and all-round just a very intimidating guy.

His territory is a SOUL sand valley (used to be Netherrack plains but the soil got contaminated by the pure amount of SOULs he was reaping that it changed) with various skeletons of things he's killed scattered around the place. He's a silent endurance hunter and you likely won't know what's going to happen until he's right there.

Avian Dust - or Decay

Decay is a very anti-social, highly territorial Avian that would sooner kill you than keep you alive to become leverage. He's dangerous and ruthless, with the second-highest kill count- just under the legendary God of Bloodshed himself.

Once you've become his friend or mate, he's fiercely protective but also quite caring and goofy. He's touch-starved and loves cuddles if you're close enough to him to give 'em. Most of the time, though, he sits on the sidelines until he's needed to Fuck Shit Up.

[tmntkiseki]

Damn, now I'm thinking about the post-Turtles Forever hunt for a new home.

Like initially the turtles are happy when they return to their own dimension. They helped save the multiverse! Their own universe is restored! Casey, April, and all their friends are okay! And while they certainly won't count their chickens before they hatch, it's possible that their Shredder has finally been defeated for good. Maybe if they pull some strings with the Daimyo or Renet, they could even pay their otherdimensional counterparts a visit sometime. It might not be the worst thing to take a vacation to the wacky dimension of the 87 turtles.

They reunite with April and Casey and plan for a pizza party back at the lair to celebrate. Once that's done, they begin to make their way back to the lair via the sewers. Everyone is laughing and joking, Leo and Raph tell Splinter about his 87 counterpart, Mikey and Don toss around fun ideas for yet more otherdimensional versions of themselves ("Imagine a universe where we're all kaiju instead!"), and everything seems set for a relaxed, jovial evening at home.

And then they enter the reservoir pumping station.

Oh. Right.

The happy mood quickly changes to something much more somber as they observe the wreckage of their home. Their third home. Their third home in only two years. At the time the multiverse crisis happened, they had only just gotten everything in order due to delays caused by the Outbreak Virus and the conflict with the Tengu Shredder and now... Now, everything is gone. Again.

Mikey briefly panics—where in the world is Klunk? Is Klunk okay? Thankfully, their beloved family pet appears soon enough with a dead mouse in her mouth, and he bursts into tears as he and his brothers hug the mewling cat. At least she's okay.

They know that they can't stay here. Even if they had the time, resources, and manpower (turtlepower?) necessary to fix all the damage, Hun knows where they live and knowing how angry he is for what happened to him, there's no guarantee that he wouldn't divulge the location of their home to someone like Bishop. They have to find somewhere new to live.

They decide to spend one more night in the pumping station, and let April and Casey know about what happened to their home. They still end up coming, pizzas and sodas in tow, and while the party ends up being very bittersweet in tone, Splinter makes note of one important thing; they may have lost their home again, but they could have easily lost everything had things turned out differently.

It takes a while for them to find a new place to live. During this time, they stay with Leatherhead in his lair—he's happy to let them live with him for as long as they need to, but Splinter, Leo, Raph, Don, and Mikey really do not want to impose on him for too long. April does her part and gets her hands on as many plans of the city's underground as she can, pinpointing potential areas of interest to help narrow their search down. This time around, they are being extremely particular about where they intend to live—they want their new home to be comfortable, but they also want it to last this time.

Eventually, they find it. Donatello quickly determines that it is a nuclear fallout shelter, likely built during the 1960s based on the appliances inside—as it was built to house over four dozen people in the event of a nuclear strike, it is easily their roomiest home yet with plenty of room to spare if more people end up staying with them (the possibility of Leatherhead moving back in with them is, of course, discussed.) Everyone gets their own room, there is direct access to the sewers at the lowest level, and the abandoned church above it could easily be repurposed into a makeshift garage for the Battle Shell and their other vehicles; Donny just needs to determine the structural integrity.

"Do you think this one will stick?" Raph asks.

"I would like it to," Leo says softly. "Home is where our family is, but it would be nice to have somewhere to stay for more than a year. Two years, even."

"Heh. You and me both."