#he looks like he's about to cry when player directly showed him how they really feel about him instead of just words

[not-your-lifeline]

this is so pure and wholesome... I love it.

[mntalbrakdown]

thinkin' bout you - H. Callahan

masterlist!

mentons of: smut, MDNI, makeouts, cussing, closeted, cheating, thigh riding, oral (r! receiving) exhibitionism, slight nudes sending idk,,,?

synopsis: you were dating a football player, but also sneaking around with Hazel

wc: 3.7k

gif by @taiturner

friday night lights, a total shit show. the girls on the cheer team didn't know how to follow the choreography of the cheers and they just do whatever they want. almost like everyone else. you on the other hand just gave up and stand there smacking your pom poms together and muttering the chants.

"are you excited about today" Isabel asks you with Josie's arm wrapped around her

"yeah" you say with a weak smile.

your boyfriend, Brody or whatever his name is, you really didnt care about him, was sitting right next to you. he was in football in whatever position, you never kept up with him. you just dated him because Brittany and Isabel wanted you to.

"hey babe want to go to get food before then game" your boyfriend asks twirling a strand of your hair in between his fingers

"i would love to, but um I have plans" you say looking directly at Hazel. she was playing around with the schools pasta, scared of the bad food. she had on her brown sweater with green pants and her red doc martens paired with her silver chain that always made you go feral

in all honesty, you have been secretly hooking up with Hazel, for the past few months. you hated it because you truly did like Hazel. yet you felt that you had to hide that side of yourself. but you decided by the end of this week you would break up with Brody.

—-

when the bell rang signifying lunch was over you got up from the table that contained all your friends or as your boyfriend called them the loser lesbians. you waved at them goodbye and stared long on Hazel. Brody wrapped his arm around your shoulder that was wearing his letterman jacket, with your oversized black pants and a white simple baby tee. as you walked down the halls you met eyes with Hazel, you smiled at her while she rolled her eyes

it was all in slow motion. she looked mad, but she never told you anything or showed any annoyance all week. you were confused, what did you do? you just saw her be happy. now you were worried. who was she walking with? it was a pretty girl who was giggling and all over Hazel, why were you so... so annoyed? you knew you had no place in doing so

"i think im going to walk to class alone" you say looking up to your boyfriend

"what why" he says stopping in the middle of his tracks

"feeling sick, dont want to get you sick when the game is in four hours you say walking away while you put your headphones on. you needed to escape this place and start letting yourself relax

you walked past everyone down the halls, you usually are so chipper and say hi to your mutuals but today you felt like putting on a hoodie and hiding. people could tell something was up, this wasn't like you. even when you get into an argument with Brody you could practically jump off the walls. this time you felt a stream of tears go down your face. you got yourself together from your five-second slump because crying in front of people is so…yuck!

so you walked into Mr. G's class head held high and when you reached your desk next to Hazel you slumped down like usual.

"so how is Brody" Hazel asks nonchalantly to you as everyone waited for the bell to ring

"he's good, were good" you say looking directly at Hazel trying to see if she was playing a game with you

"cool because I might start seeing this girl, she's available and likes me" Hazel could basically hear the breaks and cracks of your teeth by how tense you were

"I'm happy for you haze, hope she treats you right," you say as calmly as possible

"so...you're ok with it" she asks, but lets be honest she cannot take hints nor sarcasm

"yeah" you say nodding and taking out your notebook from your backpack

---

after class ended and you kept passing looks at Hazel with the ends of your mouth turned downwards.you couldn't actually believe it, but you couldn't hold a grudge. you got up quickly packing all your stuff and getting ready to leave school since that was your last class. you had plans on hanging out with Hazel, but those plans quickly crumbled to the ground

you practically ran out of there not wanting to be held up. Josie and Pj snickering about how you've been acting weirder after lunch. you could hear fast footsteps come closer to you until they finally reached you.

"wait up" they pull your arm to meet your face

"hey!" you exclaim, you just wanted to make it to your car

"what's wrong" Hazel says guiding your face to her, her eyebrows knitting togetehr when she sees you look upset

"nothing it's stupid" Hazel quickly shook her head, how could she be so tender when you're such a brat

"is it about me and her” Hazel asks seeing how your demeanor changed in a heartbeat just thinking about the other girl

“no” you say but she knew you were lying by the way you looked down

“was i just supposed to wait for you to break up with your stupid boyfriend” Hazel slightly raises her voice

“no, but i told you i was going to break up with him by the end of the week” you say pressing your lips together in anger

“than do it, i’ve been all over you for the past few months, and it certainly didnt look like you were, i mean the jacket?” Hazel clenches her jaw trying her best not to get her anger to overflow

“can we please leave” you whisper, you could feel people stare and overhear you in the crowded halls

which Hazel obliges and grabs your hand to lead you to her parked car. she had a Tesla, I mean she was rich what did you expect. she claimed her mom passed it down to her when her mom got a Mercedes as if it’s something everyone does.

she opened the door for you to get in the passenger seat. when you were fully seats and deep breathing to calm yourself down you hear Hazel open the driver door and sit down

“i’m sorry, it’s not fair” you say looking at how Hazels pupils dilated to how soft you became

“it’s ok, i just, want you” Hazel says smiling showing her pearly whites

“ok alpha male” you joke causing the tension to rise and disappear

you caught eyes with Hazel when you finally stopped laughing. and whatever energy you once had converted to lust. you stopped moving and slowly leaned into Hazel to kiss. the kiss was deep and passionate. Hazel slowly pulled your hair to get you to moan so she could slip her tongue. the fight for dominance was strong. so much so that when you pulled away to catch your breath a string of saliva stretched from both of your mouths.

“god i missed this” Hazel said cupping your cheek with her left hand, to be frank it was only a week since your last hookup but time it time and you yearned for her

“i missed you” you say going to quickly kiss hazel as she went over the center console to your seat

she made your seat go all the way back and reclined it so you were laying down as she was in between your legs. she was so eager to take your pants off when you try to push her away

“woah, we’re still at school we can’t do this” you say seeing all the kids walk to their car

“relax my windows are tinted, like illegally, you can’t see in” she says as she shimmied your pants off seeing how you easily relaxed

“Haze” you say as she threw your pants to the back seat

“yeah pretty” she asks looking at you with lustful eyes

“yeah? going to make you scream so loud that your voice goes raspy for a few days” Hazel says quickly kissing the top of your forehead as she goes to kneel back down to your core

“nothing, just missed this” you say as she quickly came up to kiss you

she does back down to your thong covered core that was already soaked. “this for me” she says making you lightly slap her face in embarrassment “it’s hot” she praises

she continued to play and tease you. she slightly moved your panties to the side to just take a quick peak. she than quickly slid the thin cloth down your legs and tucked it in her pants

“Haze you can’t keep those” you say reaching down to try to snatch them back

“i’ll give them back when you break up with him” she says with a bitterful mouth

she than goes to lick a strip of your core. making you arch your back from the seat. than she went in a swing time, sucking for longer and playing with your clit with her tongue.

“Fuck Haze just like that” you squirm in your seat

she continued her attack. kissing and sucking your cunt with her mouth. she was practically making out with it. from time to time she would look up from between your legs and see your scrunched up face and hands pulling her hair.

“god you look beautiful like this” she says moving from your core to the inner thigh and lightly biting it

“haze, god you’re so good” you praise her because of how good she’s making you feel

her calloused hands always feel so nice on you. you love the contrast between your soft skin and her rough. partly because you knew she had ragged skin because of the fight club that made you two meet.

Hazel runs her large hands along your thighs as she pulls away from you to kiss the inside of your thighs leaving love marks to mark you as hers.

“You always look so pretty.” She gives you a lopsided smile, giving you a boost of confidence so you could reach your climax

Hazel's big blue eyes glimmer and sparkle in the dim light, showcasing adoration and lust. She always wonders how you’re so fucking perfect. How she found the most beautiful person to walk this planet. She honestly questions how she even managed to pull you, let alone keep you. aside from having to share with Brody. She takes her bottom lip into her teeth, her eyes wondering over your body.

You both share intense eye contact, Hazel staring at you intently as she feels the need to press a kiss to your soft, full lips. You widely smile at her before leaning in, as she does the same. However, you slightly turn your head to the right forcing her to kiss your cheek instead, which makes you giggle at your childish antics.

You pull back only to see a frustrated Hazel, seeing her eyes darken. She shakes her head as she speaks, “you think you’re so fuckin’ funny, huh?” She questions, first Brody, now this?

You nod your head several times, finding it all amusing before bringing your hand up to her face to push a loose strand of dark brunette hair behind her ear.

She pulls you closer to her, her lips barely brushing against yours before she starts dragging them over your cheek, moving towards your ear.

She presses a soft kiss onto your jaw, slowly lining more closer to your chin before she moves to the other side of your face, taking her sweet time with you.

Hazel then removes her hand, cupping your jaw, moving her lips down to your neck. As she presses butterfly kisses onto your skin. She manages to suck on you harder in certain areas causing delicate moans to slip past your lips.

Hazel loves marking you up, she enjoys the thought of everyone knowing you’re hers and only hers. She thrives on the idea of everyone knowing her lips are the ones running along your skin, claiming you and taking you as hers to keep. But for a while you didn't allow her because of the relationship. Something about her just made you melt and not even care.

You can feel your cunt getting damper with the arousal that drips from your pussy the more Hazl sucks into your skin. You just barely grind your hips into hers which ends up getting you a groan of approval from her.

“You like denying my kisses?” She questions, placing one last kiss on you before pulling back, desire and lust looming in her eyes.

This time, you shake your head, “no, ‘m sorry.” You mumble, letting a soft cry out as Hazel fingers dig into one of your hips, surely leaving bruises in their wake.

The one hand that she is using to cup your jaw pulls your chin down towards her, her lips hovering over yours. “Sorry, hm?” Her soft puffs brush along your top lip as she looks into your eyes, tension consuming the entirety of the car.

She guides your face with her large hand seconds later, pulling you in so her plump lips meet yours. The kiss starts off softer, both of your mouths moving in sync as they perfectly mold together. Hazel's tongue quickly swipes over your bottom lip, asking permission for entrance as she always does.

You immediately grant her access as you open your mouth more, her pink muscle easily slipping through to meet yours. The kiss begins to pick up as your tongues swirl together in harmony, Hazel completely dominating the kiss.

Your hands find their way around to the back of her head, your fingers threading her thick hair through them as you slightly tug on it.

Hazel slightly moans into the kiss as she bucks her hips up into you. Her simple action bumps into your open swollen pussy, which sends a jolt of pleasure through your body.

You pull back to speak, “please.” You mutter, before pushing your lips back against Hazel.

The kiss has now done a complete 180, it slowly dwindling, falling apart as it becomes more messy and sloppy. You find it hard to keep up with the movement the more you grind yourself on Hazel.

“What do you want?” Hazel questions, mumbling into this kiss. As she does so, her hands find the inside of your thighs

You whine in desperation, but also annoyance because you know she already knows what you want. She litters multiple kisses along your cheek and jaw as she waits for you to speak.

“Be a big girl and use your words.” She demands, using her hands to tug at the hem of your shirt, asking if she’s allowed to take it off.

You immediately nod, not wasting any time as you help her pull the thin material off of yourself.

As soon as the shirt falls to the ground beside your pants your nipples harden at the cool air brushing past you, sending shivers down your spine. Hazel's eyes find your bare chest, her eyes raking your entire body up and down. Fuck, how she loves your body and everything about it. the freckles and moles that are now exposed and the soon-to-be bruises sprinkled on like salt and pepper.

A small smirk is brought to her lips as she leans forward a bit, “fuckin’ perfect.” Her pupils seem to be further dilated, her beautiful blue eyes casted over by lust.

Her needy hands grab at your tits before she takes one of your nipples in between her lips. She sucks on you softly, emitting a moan from your mouth as you throw your head back in pleasure. She grazes her teeth against you, pulling at you a bit, letting you go with a ‘pop’ before moving to the other.

Her fingers circle her salvia around your nipple, rolling it in between her fingers as she licks and sucks at the other, her hand gently massaging the tit her mouth is focusing on. The need that Hazel has to make you feel good takes over her entire brain, it’s all she can think about day in and day out. The idea of seeing you a breathless and moaning mess due to the reasons of her hands leaves her enthused, hungry for more.

This time she bites into you a bit harsher before pulling back, “answer me.” Her eyes peering up at you through her long, thick eyelashes.

“I want you” You whisper, your cheeks warm as you feel empowered under her burning gaze.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.” You nod eagerly, dragging your fingertips over her shoulders, then next her collarbones.

“I want you to use me, ride my thigh, and cum all over me.” She whispers, kissing the corner of your mouth before she leans back.

You bite into your bottom lip, trying to conceal the smile that threatens to take over your face. You begin to move to be on top of Hazel's clothed thigh, gently rocking your hips on top of her thigh, your clit feeling pressure from Hazel's muscled leg.

She pushes herself further into the chair you both are sitting on, man spreading as she props her elbows up on the sides of the car, watching you intently.

Hazel looks at you as if you’re the best thing to roam these lands, like you were an angel brought down to earth, carved and chiseled from the gods above. She worships the fucking ground you walk on like nobody else. She’s obsessed with you, even more so when she has this pretty little sight in front of her. She's practically drooling over you, and you're still focused on that bonehead who wouldn't even make you moan half the time compared to her.

With her low, hooded eyes staring at you, you feel a bit nervous but you also feel confident and content. You always feel comfortable around Hazel, there’s never a time you haven’t. Not even thinking about the possibility of people seeing you at this instance.

You try to suppress your moans as you slowly pick up your pace, bending over a bit to grab onto Hazel's broad shoulders in order to keep your balance.

Hazel brings one of her hands to your thighs before sliding it closer to your ass. She first gropes at your soft skin, then harshly leaves a slap causing you to yelp out. Feeling the cold metal of her silver-adorned hand.

You both let out a moan, “fuck, angel, you’re soaking.” She states, her eyes watching the way your hot, wet cunt runs so smoothly along her thigh.

“Feels s’good.” You vocalize, your hands moving up to your tits as you play with them in front of her, sensually moving your hips back in forth in a way that makes Hazel go feral.

She shakes her head with a smirk, “my pretty girl putting on a little show for me?” She questions, trying her best to keep her hands to herself, although she’s finding it almost impossible as she continues to yearn for the feeling of your skin under hers.

Hazel's eyes continuously fluctuate in between your own, your tits, and your pussy using her to get off. Her own arousal beginning to dampen her boxers. Just watching you could cause Hazel to completely fall apart.

After a while of her letting you do your thing, allowing yourself to build up an orgasm, that fiery feeling burning deep in the pit of your stomach, just on the brink of falling over, you find yourself losing your pace.

“F-Fuck, Hazel. I’m gonna cum.” You whine, desperately chasing after your orgasm as you use Hazel for your own personal high.

“Yeah, baby? Gonna make a mess all over me?” She tilts her head, running her tongue along her cheek as she watches you begin to experience your orgasm, you simply nodding your head in response. "Fuck I bet Brody doesn't make you scream this loud"

Hazel moves one of her hands, pressing a thumb closer to the top of your clit for more stimulation. You let out a loud moan, searching your brain for words to help you process the pleasure radiating through your body.

“You like that?” She questions, already knowing the answer, cockiness swarming her attitude.

You can only let out a string of whines and whimpers, any words only coming out as a stammer. You slowly fall apart in front of her, your body getting weaker the faster she moves her finger against you.

“Listen to yourself whimper.” Hazel grins, “its fucking pathetic.” The blue eyed girl whispers, although she knows you could do anything to her and she’d melt in your hands.

“P-Please.” You meekly whine, continuing to move your hips back and forth on top of her. slowly leaning your exposed chest to your clothed one.

“C’mon, baby, cum for me.” Her soft voice guides you, finally pushing you over as your orgasm crashes into you.

It takes over every one of your senses and washes over you like a tsunami, crashing into you hard. Your vision turns white as your body spasms on top of Hazel, your cum rolling down her thigh as you make a complete mess on her.

“Fuck, sweet girl.” She groans, finally pulling her hand back as she stares at your arousal coating her thigh.

You let out breath, your body relaxing into hers, a layer of sweat sticking to your skin. You look down yourself, feeling a bit embarrassed as the orgasm fades away.

Hazel can sense that as she lifts your chin, forcing you to look at her, a reassuring look lingering in her eyes. She never wants you to be ashamed, she wants you to feel good. Always.

"that was hot" you say tucking your bottom lip between your top lip. Hazel eagerly grabs your phone to take a picture of the two of you fucked out, your bare shoulders exposed, and your messy tangled hair. quickly sending it to Brody

"Whoops my finger slipped," Hazel says earning a punch and a giggle from you

you quickly get a message from PJ and Josie of a picture of Hazel's car from the outside showing the steamy windows, paired with a message woah hazel gets action?

which made Hazel laugh and take a picture of the car from the inside of you and her kissing accompanied with her action ;p which made the phone actually overheat by the mass amount of messages from both parties. at one point you could hear the screams and jumps from outside the car

---

Hazel Callahan x reader (pretty sure if i don't add that it won't pop up on the tag :c)

taglist: @shaddyluvs @why-cant-we-all-get-along

[yanderecrazysie]

How was your day? I hope it was great! 😊

A quote help inspire this brainrot and that is “Always the bridesmaid never the bride”.

Now I recently re-read your Unrequited story and got an idea. What if yandere Atsumu miya x best friend reader where Reader has a huge crush on him but Atsumu is a major playboy who don’t see Reader as a woman and thought she was tomboy. Like Reader and Atsumu are best friends and rivals since childhood as Reader is the Star player of the female volleyball. The reader is more on the muscular side and cut her hair short due to it getting in the way of her games. Like reader can keep up with the Male Volleyball team and even competes with the miya twins during practice. Even if reader acts tomboy-ish, she is still straight and actually a romantic at heart and wants to date but because of her general muscular appearance and gruff attitude boys are intimidated by her. Others boys don’t even see her as a woman and the general school thought that she was boy due to her looking like a boy similar to Haru from Ouran HighSchool host club. But the reader has huge crush of Atsumu since they were little but Atsumu is busy playing around with more feminine girls. Atsumu unintentionally ignores Reader’s confession thinking that she’s just joking around and gets into a fling with a girl that is opposite of reader: gentle, slim and beautiful. The reader heartbroken by Atsumu still wishes him a happy relationship and goes to cry for a little while but to her surprise Osamu comforts her and allows her to vent about her feelings and insecurities about her body and how she feels like boys don’t perceive her as woman. After some time, Reader and Osamu began to fall in love due to Osamu being there for reader and treating her the way she wants to be treated but when reader during a victory party gets drunk she unintentionally revealed her old feelings to Atsumu and with tears in her eyes said that she always supported him and wanted to him to see her as a woman but its too late and osamu just picks up the reader to avoid making a scene . How would Atsumu take this and what would he feel seeing that he lost the reader forever and to his own twin brother no less.

Hope you have a wonderful day!

Oooooh this is some good brainrot right here. Atsumu would totally be exactly like this too.

I feel like this turned out really stiff-sounding somehow.

Title: Overlook

Pairings: Miya Atsumu x Reader; non-yandere Miya Osamu x Reader

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, masculine female reader, drunk reader

Summary: Atsumu only sees you as one of the boys.

overlook

/verb/

fail to notice (something)

The ball slammed against the floor, shooting back up into the air as the girls’ team cheers. The scoreboard was flipped, showing the numbers 25 to 20.

“Thank you for the game!” the two teams told each other a moment later before breaking up to mingle among each other. 

“Congratulations on the final point,” Osamu cheered, clapping you on the back. You’re glad your childhood friend isn’t a sore loser.

“Girls versus boys, and the girls win- how unfair,” Atsumu, another childhood friend, was less charitable, a defined pout on his face.

“That sounds pretty sexist,” you warned teasingly, “Assuming the boys will win and all.”

Atsumu responded back with an even bigger pout. You laughed, trying to hide the blush from your cheeks as you looked at him. 

A dark-haired boy walked over to stand next to Atsumu. He gave you a bored look for a moment before saying, “I thought you were a boy at first. You know, because of the short hair and muscles.”

A flush spread across your face. You knew that was how most people saw you, but it hurt hearing it directly from someone.

“That’s not very nice, Suna,” Osamu said coldly. You silently thanked him, giving a timid little nod.

Everyone thought you were a boy when they first saw you. It didn’t matter that you were somewhat girly, other than liking sports, it didn’t matter if you wore the girls’ uniform or had a romantic worldview- you weren’t seen as a woman at all.

You supposed it couldn’t be helped too much- your hairstyle was very typical of a boy’s and your figure was not very feminine. You were tall, muscular, and flat-chested.

The coaches of each team blew their whistles and you gathered with your team to hear the critiques from the practice match. You could tell that your coach was proud of you all for winning against the boys and you beamed whenever she praised your strength.

You were the one randomly chosen to stay behind and clean the gym. You didn’t mind at all, it always gave you time to think.

The boys left the gym, all except for Atsumu. Your heart skipped a beat as you realized he must’ve been chosen to stay and clean too! The blush that spread across your face was massive, touching even the tips of your ears, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face.

Not a minute later and the two of you were alone together, running around, picking up balls and things that had been left behind. Once you had finished with that, the two of you headed for the janitorial closet to get the brooms.

“Hey, Atsumu,” your heart was pounding in your ears, but you knew this was the time to ask, when you were completely alone for once and not around each other’s teammates.

“What’s up, (Y/n)?” Atsumu asked, grabbing a large broom.

“I… I like you…” You blurted out, “Like… a lot.”

Atsumu immediately laughed, “Same, yer one of my closest friends, I’m almost as close to ya as Osamu.”

“No, that’s not what I mean,” you said frantically, “I mean-”

“Come on, I want to get this over with,” Atsumu whined, slipping past you and placing the broom on the floor, “Stop joking around.”

Your heart sank and tears leapt to your eyes. A strangled “okay” left your lips but you were anything but okay.

You shouldn’t have come to this party. Not if you wanted to keep your sanity.

Nearly the first sight you’d been greeted with was Atsumu making out with some random girl on the couch. The worst part had to be how the girl looked- skinny, feminine, large-breasted, and short. The complete opposite of you was clearly Atsumu’s type.

When Atsumu walked up to you with her on his arm, it’s all you could do to wish them a congratulations. You’re tearful the moment they turn away.

“Are you okay?” A soft voice asked you. You looked over to the source and were surprised to see Osamu standing next to you.

“I’m fine,” the minute the words leave your mouth, you burst into tears. 

Osamu gently led you over to one of the open private rooms and rubbed your back as you sob into your hands. You’re thankful for the comforting motions.

“What’s the matter?” Osamu asked you.

The words spill out of your mouth before you can even think about keeping quiet, “No one sees me as a woman, Osamu. I look like a guy and that’s all everyone thinks of me.”

“I see ya as a woman,” Osamu said quietly, “I always have.”

Before you know it, he’s closing the gap between you both. You allow it to happen, surprised by how soft his lips are as they meet your own. You melt into the kiss as though it were the only thing that mattered.

Three months later, another party rolls around. It’s a celebration for the team going to nationals and you’re there to support Osamu. You’ve drowned at least four drinks by now, and they’re nowhere near light on the alcohol.

You’re stumbling around, nearly blackout drunk at this point, when you run into Atsumu. Your feelings for him have long since faded, replaced by a fondness for his twin, but you can’t stop the words from coming. The alcohol has obliterated your filter.

“You know, I used to have a crush on you,” you giggle drunkenly, “All I wanted was for you to see me as a woman but noooo.”

You sway a little as a hiccup leaves your mouth, and you continue, “But it’s all for the best, right? Now I’ve got someone else, someone better.” A smile spreads across your face as you look across the crowded room to Osamu, who sends a grin back your way. You give a little wave, which almost sends you off-balance in your drunken state.

“I’ve found happiness elsewhere.”

Atsumu stares at you, mind working a mile a minute.

You’d had a crush on him? How hadn’t he noticed? How hadn’t he seen you? 

You looked every bit the part of a woman, decked out in a pretty dress for the party and a little bit of makeup. Yet, Atsumu had never bothered to look at you that way.

Maybe his feelings for you were sparked from the jealousy that his brother had something he didn’t. How dare ‘Samu take you away when you’d liked him first?

Maybe it was the rejection of your previous feelings, the knowledge that you’d moved on, even without him ever knowing you’d liked him in the first place.

As Atsumu watches you nuzzle up to his twin, giving him a peck on the lips, he feels white-hot jealousy course through his veins.

He wonders if he can get you to feel that way about him again.

Even if it hurts his brother in the process.

[pixelatedbugs]

just completed neutral route! big huge spoilery ramble below summary: definitely recommend playing neutral route because holy shit wow. plus you get some new dialogue and stuff from other characters which is cool

I thought Martlet picking up the determination syringe was an aborted genocide only thing but she had it and i was only level 7...she throws it away of course but it still kinda shocked me. She was already ready to kill Clover if they did anymore violence, even if she changed her mind in the end. And then Flowey just kills her-

Really interesting to me that when Flowey doesn't intervene clover just stays with Toriel. I feel like Clover had a hard life on the surface (based off of Star's couch bringing "unpleasant memories", mainly) I feel like deep down, they wanted comfort. They came down the mountain to find the 5 missing humans but they forgot about that in exchange for Toriel's comfort. A home. They're just a kid. man..

The boss..fuck. I knew it got scary because I accidentally spoiled myself on a few things but wow I was not ready. it really emphasizes the fact that Flowey has complete (not counting the player) control over what happens to clover. Speaking of that, that one scene at the end where Flowey looks directly at the screen..wonder if he realized that him and clover aren't the only ones here. T- DON'T DO THAT CREEPY LAUGH sorry was typing this while watching the credits anyway..

The fight itself was AWESOME. Super creative, the sections where you have to avoid Flowey's vines like Undyne's spears was amazing. The attacks were...creepy as hell Flowey with Humanoid Eyes will stay in my mind for a while. And that's a compliment, the horror factor was nailed here. The battle box lines too. "Clover wants to cry but they don't have eyes" wow! fun! jesus christ. The intermission(?) between the phases. All the other final bosses showed memories of the characters, so it makes sense Flowey would also get those! I'm...not entirely sure what most of it was about besides the part where Asriel first awakens as Flowey ("mom..? dad..?") but holy shit the mountain of dead Floweys was horrifying. Every single reset...damn. Its more likely that Flowey was created a bit before frisk fell, not clover, at least in undertale canon. But still, it really puts into perspective just how many times he died, over and over and over. Plus I'm inserting UTY into my headcanon anyway at this point lmao. oh yeah and then we're in Snowdin! yay it's Martlet! she's speaking slightly weird but I'm sure nothing bad will happen Uh Oh

The second phase is just, really, really good. I didn't expect anything to match Photoshop Flowey but this? Pretty much does it perfectly. i love the different artstyles for every different phase rather than theming around the different souls too. The clay one got me very close to becoming the joker fuck that one

I'm wondering what would've happened if i exited the game at some point, maybe ill redo it later. But yeah, awesome boss, awesome route, definitely go play it yourself. You can just kill like 1 monster and you'll get it i think. ignore the fact that i killed way more than one monster i needed the health ok

[springcatalyst]

i just realized my rant under the club piece cut off at 30 tags even tho it let me write out more than that and i need to have this somewhere or i'll die so it is now yalls problem. alas

the fuckign. the way that the bosses each foil the main character in sifu. the intrinsic way their personalities and motivations are portrayed and told to us as the player is cool as balls anyway but their contrasts and similarities to the mc is. how u say. really satisfying

Kajar is, by all intents and purposes, a hermit. He has drawn dramatically inward in these 8 years, so much so that Yang is the ONLY one who is allowed to see him. He seems to spend all his time working, growing things. He never leaves that warehouse. Likewise, the mc is overwhelmingly alone- it's part of the pitch of the game, but really. We never get evidence that he has any friends, any family left, he doesn't really interact with people in a way that isn't violent. The most we get is indifference from the few non-aggressive npcs. A look around the wuguan shows that he just pours all his time and energy into this quest of his- finding his targets and training. There's not really room in that for a social life. The mc seems to look down on how oddly alone and holed-up Kajar is, but he does the exact same thing, just to less an extent. He's hypocritical that way.

Sean is FUCKING fascinating as a character, and even more so as a foil because he is a near-perfect juxtaposition. Both their fathers were members of the guardians... Sean took part in the thing that killed his own father. Chances are, Sean himself killed his own father. That's a far cry from the revenge we see the mc seek for his. But Sean also has people. He has built himself a community of sorts- it's imperfect and more than a little cult-like but it doesn't feel like it stems from a power fantasy of his because he abides by the same rules- he, too, is burned. Contrast this from the mc's crushing isolation, something that Sean doesn't seem to have a problem with.

Kiroki's museum is a fantastic segment and when I first played through it I stopped to read all the descriptors once I killed the enemies in an area because damn. But her art is all about duality and identity: her fight, too, separated into two distinct and opposing segments. The mc exhibits a sharp dissonance from who he is when fighting to who he is when not. It's something I really like about the game- all those small segments after clearing a level where you get to just sit alone in the quiet for a moment before continuing forward. They're very contemplative, something you don't typically see in fighting games. A fight is all ruthless motion and violence, but after the fact, he seems to be a more thoughtful person than you would expect, considering. He's clearly patient: biding his time for 8 years until he knew he could do it, until he had the ability and the knowledge to pull this off. This duality is showcased in a much sharper way in Kiroki- she goes from "I don't want to fight you" to "I'll kill you a hundred times over" in very little time. All her minibosses tell you she's past this, she's put it behind her, she doesn't want to fight. But when she gets to it, she's not only very good at it, but she DOES enjoy a fight. These two things are both true, not as hypocrisy, but as twins of each other. Speaking of twins (lol)- Kiroki's twin's death and her subsequent grief and regret, the destruction of her family and the way it follows her for years, chases her out of her home- that, too, is something that directly parallels the player character.

Jinfeng, I think, means well. Or at least, she did. She started her business and as well, her goal of killing the other guardians, to help people. But in the end she remains just another functionally useless CEO, up in her ivory tower, looking down at the people she began all this to aid. She, like the guardians she resented, keeps secrets hidden underground and uses her power to help herself, her acquaintances, and few others. Our character, likewise, began his quest with arguably honorable intentions. But he kills more than just the five that hurt him along the way, and hurts so many more. By the time he reaches his goal you have to ask: what has he really accomplished? All he's doing is continuing the same violence. All she's doing is upholding the same status quo.

Yang is the most obvious parallel to the player character. He is a direct line from here to there, from what he was to what he is- a line that the mc is following to the letter. Yang is, similarly to Jinfeng, a cycle of the same harm, the same violence. Yang was enbittered with loss and he used that to justify hurt- our character does the very same thing. He becomes precisely what he despises, and you see it coming from a mile away. But because of the different endings, he can also be a cycle broken. It depends on the choices you make. He is one thing, or the opposite. A parallel, or a juxtaposition.

And the thing about the bosses too is that the five of them together also prove something interesting, and that's that they are all so interconnected. 8 years later and their lives stay entwined, at least to an extent. Sean sends fighters to defend all the rest, particularly Kiroki and Yang, and is acutely aware of your killing of Kajar. Members of Kajar's gang are also members of Sean's club. Yang routinely checks up on Kajar, treats him for some illness that is never specified but is clearly chronic, or at least long-term. Jinfeng funds both Kiroki and Yang, and either has replicas of each other bosses' weapons, or gathers them after you kill them. Yang holds pieces of each member in his wuguan- courtesy of their talismans. They stay entwined even after their task is complete, aiding and defending one another. The main character has none of this. He is, as previously mentioned, remarkably alone. There is no evidence pointing to any allies, anyone at all on his side. He justifies and moralizes his revenge but ultimately who mourns for his death? The deaths he inflicts will cause far more ripple than his own ever would, because they are actually connected to each other. He is alone and so, as cruel as this sounds, his death would not be felt. Theirs will be and are as he stubbornly refuses to die. Of course, this doesn't have to be true: he can choose- not forgiveness, even, but nonviolence- and in doing so, chase away that isolation. But if he does what he set out to do, he stays alone just as much as they stay connected.

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

(...) Something something even in journalism being specifically a sports/football journalist and dealing with players, owners, and coaches like Ted’s predecessor. (...) // god I have so many thoughts about this entire post and especially this part! george cartrick uses a homophobic term in one of his first lines. that first scene with george and rebecca is probably what the press room environment was like while trent was deeply closeted, unhappy in his relationship with a woman. to think of him being in that chair week after week for years... no wonder he was so cold when we first met him. and no wonder ted's warm presence changed him so profoundly

RIGHT!!!!!!!!! i think about this so so so much . like. trent pre-canon just. being so deeply unhappy. bored with his job, scared of himself, lonely and bitter and with so little affection in his life. his work environment is outright hostile and his home life feels like a lie and he has nowhere he feels safe. and yeah just. specifically with him going to work every day to talk to people like cartrick, to be immersed in a very toxic and homophobic culture, one he grew up with with his father, and like. him being sharp and unforgiving and snappish and aloof because he has to be, because the world he deals with daily is cold and sharp to him, and then--

then ted comes along and he is completely unprepared. thrown off guard, searching for what angle ted has, what trick this is, what he's playing at, because he is completely unprepared to deal with someone who is warm and genuine and open. and when it becomes increasingly clear that ted's sincere, that he really is warm and caring and kind, that he not only isn't going to but never would say the kind of shit cartrick did, that trent--trent can let his guard down around him--it's... kind of irresistible. how can he be anything but helpless to that when he's been starved of it for so long? i remember in that same quote that james lance said that he wanted to be loved but truly felt he was unlovable he said something like. even from the beginning there was more inside wanting desperately to come out, that he couldn't express himself because of his oppressive childhood (and, we can assume, his prior work environment) so he couldn't show the sweetheart he really was and i'm just crying. like. yeah. him just utterly melting. like.

this is barely coherent but just. something about how ted's whole thing is getting through to people and crumbling tough cookies, and trent is presented--an early challenge--as a very tough cookie indeed, the coldest of the bunch, the worst and most cutting journalist of all the shitty journalists, literally handpicked by rebecca to destroy ted as the most respected but also the biggest cunt. and like. it takes a while for ted to get through to roy, and jamie, and rebecca, right? but trent??? like. there's the two brief press conference meetings (in which trent is borderline hostile, although he seems bemusedly impressed by ted's clever answers once he's prepared) and then like, what, half a day? a brief conversation or two, watching him interact with kids, and then half a dinner that he basically flees halfway through directly after realizing ted's genuine and looking like he's been fucking cracked open about it. like. it doesn't even take that much for him to change his mind and listen to what ted's saying. yeah, it takes him a little while longer to fully soften up--and in fact, we only see him really, truly his most authentic sweetheart self once he's fully immersed in the community ted's helped cultivate--but like. wow. literally just. ted being sincere, ted being kind to him, and that's enough. like. a wild beast that wants to be tamed so it can lay its head in a warm lap, a knight that wants to be disarmed so he can finally stop fighting. it took so little to get through to him. like it's kind of tragic. maybe no one else could have done it--could have been as boldly, incredibly, almost stupidly sincere and open as ted is--or maybe anyone could have and it's simply that no one did. like just!!!!!! trent growing to be cold and aloof and sharp as armor, defense against the world that's hurt him, that he's already hiding from, and just. ted disarming him. trent letting his guard down and for once not being punished for it. i just. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHGH!!!!!!! no wonder he was so cold with how unhappy and scared and alone he was!!!!!!! no wonder ted's kindness and warmth affected him so badly!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[yui-kuromori]

There’s one episode in season 1 of AiB that I feel like I haven’t given the attention it deserved in my past analysis: Episode 4, the one that contains the game “Distance”.

Now, here’s one thing that I feel is really important when discussing this episode. The game “Distance” is a complete different thing in the manga. It’s arguably the most different episode when considering its manga counterpart. In the original story, this game is a “side story” meaning that no one from the main cast was a part of it. In other words, Arisu and Usagi never played this game.

Meaning that the entire narrative and subtext from episode 4 is basically show written, taking very few key points from the original source material.

Now, here’s what I think is really beautifully done here.

In the original, when Usagi meets Arisu, she, like in the show, asks him if he “wants to live.” Unlike in the show, Manga Arisu begins to angrily cry before yelling out that yes, he does want to live. Usagi, moved by his resolve and seeing in him herself after her father’s loss, agrees to his wish to keep going and nurses him back to health. Soon after they are taken in by the beach.

This show vs. manga deviation shifts some very core aspects of both Arisu and Usagi’s characters. More plainly by essentially shifting Usagi from a passive force to an active one. In the show, it’s her own decision to drag Arisu from the rain, her decision to drag him to a game. Essentially, her resolve is what inspires him. She saves him, and not the other way around.

Now, the second part of the episode, the game in itself is a beautifully written mini arc to basically get Arisu back on his feet after the 7 of hearts. As much as Usagi may have gotten him to this point, but ultimately, Arisu need to be the one to truly make the decision to keep on living.

So we get to the game venue, and we meet the other players. One interesting thing here is that those players directly mirror Arisu and his original friends, a protective fighter, an emotional, loyal thinker and a vulnerable, injured player, who needs his team’s help to keep on going.

As the game progresses and the other players start to die, Arisu basically sees from a third person perspective his own friends die again. He keeps pushing. Eventually Yamane, the sole survivor of the group, laments the loss of his friends, unsure how to keep going without them.

Arisu then encourages him “survive, and tell your wife and child all about them”, Usagi giving him a meaningful look as he says so. This is Arisu telling himself to keep going, fully taking the position of someone willing to survive. It’s also noteworthy that the color correction in this scene is extremely yellow, a color that in Alice in Borderland, can be associated with grief. The undertone is clear: Arisu is still grieving, his friends’s death still hurt him, but even still he’s choosing to keep going.

Then they find a motorcycle, a very underrated moment for Arisu’s character. It’s easy to imagine, that after failing to save his team’s life in the 7 of hearts, he would be insecure about his greatest attribute, his intelligence. Here, against all odds he’s using knowledge only he has to save a life they all thought was lost: Takuma. Once again displaying the courage that drew in Usagi during the 5 of spades, he chooses to risk his life to go back to the bus. “I will never survive because someone died for me”, again, with the yellow color correction in the scene, his grief is dictating his choice here, pushing on his bravery.

In the end, that bravery is rewarded with a GAME CLEAR for both him and Usagi. In the manga, it’s revealed that the “lesson” of this game is that your team mates should never be left behind. This is the moment, I think, that really defines Arisu’s way of playing games. To him, there always will be a way around the rules where people survive, this game only proves that to him, and in my opinion what allows him to later on beat the 10 of hearts.

Now, the game ends in a somber note. Takuma choosing to walk away from Arisu and Usagi with the empty promises that they may meet again. I feel like he shows what may have happened to arisu, if Usagi hadn’t found him. Wandering alone in the borderlands with little will to live.

The episode ends with Arisu dead set in finding the beach, honoring Karube’s last wish. He bikes away with Usagi, the entire scene tinted in light blue, Arisu’s color. He found himself once again, and now, literally carrying Usagi’s weight in the bike (a clever way to show the two way of their relationship, since she did carry him on for the first halve of the episode), he pushes on to the next stage in the games.

[soap-mothership5]

HELLOOOO 🔥🔥🔥🔥 SHARE UR SOAPSHIPPING HCS PLEASE! Any of them 😈

HEEEY BESTIEE 💥💥

DISCLAIMER AS I SUCK AS A WRITER BUT I HAVE SOME HCS IM SORRY IF THEY ARE DOGWATER 💖💖🧼🧼

- As mentioned in a prev post, tyler's relationship with music. he doesnt share them with anyone as he fears being seen as cringe and thats a vulnerability he does not want to show.

- hes a messy mfer so he ends up placing physical media everywhere in the musty paper street house and narrator manages to find them in the weirdest places. 3 discs in the cupboards, as cassette in the back of the toilet, a whole record wedged between the walls in the basement.

-actually there is a purpose behind that since tyler does not know how to directly tell narrator what he really likes deep down. so narrator has to find that out for himself in an easter egg hunt basically 💀. obv narrator doesnt look down on tyler because of that he really wants him to open up more.

-he steals a disc from a store and gives it to tyler as a gift. tylers trying his best to not act like hes been listening to it everyday --in soap making hours, after fc, in bed when narrators dead asleep.

~~~~~

- i like to think narrator would have been a bug kid. but a shy quiet one. keeping centipedes in jars, looking at pictures of butterflies. going to libraries to look at more pictures. of bugs. narrator casually mentions this to tyler one day and almost dies of a heart attack when he finds 2 moths and a roach in his suitcase the day after.

-a photo album gets recovered from the exploded condo and tyler will not shut up about narrator having the same resting bitch face as his mother. in a teasing way ofc.

~~~~~~~

-fsr i like hcs where tyler geats jealous. when narrators with someone tyler finds pretty suspicious hes gets super physically clingy afterwards. either that or its the "stain like this" sorta thing and tylers seething with a lot of bottled anger. ty ofc loves attention from everybody but he needs it the most from narrator. thinking of narrator falling for someone else, he sorta starts crying (dont tell narrator that tho he might think hes cringe)

anyways thats all i got hashtag like, subscribe and reblog for more hcs from soapy 👍

(cue tyler listening to jolene by dolly parton in the silly little hello kitty disc player)

[canthurryloveandfilm]

Paris, Texas

"Family first!" 

"Blood is thicker than water!" 

"There's no place like home!"

Sayings like these are ones that are heard over and over again, pointing out the importance of making family a priority. As a culture, we seem to be obsessed with the idea of family, stressing the strength of familial bonds and insisting that they should never be broken. We especially love the courtship story, and where I grew up in suburban Pennsylvania, they are some of the first things you hear when you meet a couple. Amazing coincidences, meet-cutes, adorable first date stories: these seem to define a couple, acting as proof to how strong their love is or how they were meant to be together. The Zeitlin article refers to these stories almost as a genre of folklore, uniting groups and cultures through similar stories, motivations, and focuses. There is also a pervasive theme of destiny, simple coincidences and innocuous events being seen as extremely important when looking back. Children and grandchildren are told these narratives, believing that their family's love is special and perfect, unable to be changed.

But, what really is a family? Our obsession with family seems to be centered around the idea of blood, with biological relationships taking precedence over all others. Many people I know have family members they do not like, but keep relationships with simply for the sake of the family. I am guilty of this as well, still talking to aunts and uncles who I disagree with constantly and that frequently upset me with some of their views. I guess our culture has ingrained something in me, as I want to avoid confrontation and put up with the family I don't like so that I don't upset the ones I do like. This focus on blood relations comes through in Paris, Texas, as Travis places an emphasis on the importance of knowing one's biological family. In the film, Travis takes his son, Hunter, away from Walt and Anne, who have been acting as his parents in Travis' absence, and travels to reunite him with his biological mother. The film ends with an embrace Hunter and his biological mother, Jane, finally reunited after years of being separated. Yet, is this truly a happy ending? Sure, mother and son are brought back together, but what makes this the best course of action for Hunter and his future? Walt and Anne have been raising Hunter as their own for four years, clearly showing a deep love for the boy. Although they are Hunter's aunt and uncle, they have become his parents, placing themselves in the roles abandoned by his biological parents. When Travis takes Hunter away from the couple, they are truly devastated at the loss at the child who has become their son. Hunter is also sad after the phone call he makes home, crying at having upset Walt and Anne by leaving. Hunter is torn from a loving couple in favor of a blood connection, but Jane is most likely not fully capable of caring for him on her own. Jane works at a peepshow club, trying to make money to send to Walt and Anne monthly for Hunter. Being a single mother is extremely difficult, and was it worth taking Hunter away from loving parents that could provide for him in favor of salvaging a biological connection between a mother and son. Blood relationships are treated as an obligation, forcing a family connection simply because of genetics. But, a family should should not be restricted simply to those a person is most directly related to through blood. Family should be built on love and connection, whether that include a person's biological parents or simply the people that raised and cared for them. 

The car I drive is getting a bit old, CD players are becoming harder and harder to find when shopping for new ones and the bluetooth system is getting more spotty each time I use it. I can never seem to make myself change the CDs in my car, so I listen to about the same six on a rotation, one of these being Freedy Johnston's This Perfect World.

A relatively sad choice to listen to while driving, the title track of the disc is a somber story about a man returning to his family to get closure after he committed some unnamed, terrible act in the past. When listening to this song, I was reminded of Travis' journey throughout the film, as he tries to reconnect with those he pushed away. Though we as viewers don't know what Travis has done until the very end of the film, Travis' entire story is one of trying to move past his actions. He knows he has done terrible and hurtful things in the past, and is trying his best to right his wrongs and bring his family back together. The song illustrates a similar story, one of guilt of past actions and attempt at making amends. Freedy sings, "Last time I was here I wouldn't turn around," showing the narrator's shame and guilt for what he had done. In the chorus, the narrator says, "I know I never should have gone away. But I still deserve to say goodbye no matter what I've done." As I was listening, this piece of the song evoked the scenes between Travis and Jane in the club. Travis had done horrible and painful things to Jane and his son, before disappearing completely for years. He recognizes the harm he caused, but in these scenes he is looking for closure, for some final end to the hurt he has caused and a chance at making things okay again through the reunion of mother and son. But, his attempt at proving his love is misguided, breaking up others in the process. There are some things that one cannot make amends for, and in doing so, Travis is causing hurt to others in his life, devastating Walt and Anne in order to try to reinstate some kind of everlasting, maternal bond.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

AIKU AND PROF BIRCH THEY BOTH HAVE THE MF STUBBLE LMFAOOOOOOO

LMAOO no wait that’s so real Karasu being like “maybe *I* need a ground type then I can compete with yuki and show him I’m the man”

Oh yeah huh I didn’t even register that LMAOSJ er anyways HAHAH wait this can be fake death instance #1 Karasu scared shitless like “oh fuck no is she dead where’d she go damn where’s staraptor when I need it” LMAO the way we both thought about the death instance is so funny I hadn’t even read that part of your response yet truly on the same wavelength!! Bro that’s fr me we keep talking about Karasu and I have to keep reminding myself that hes not the love interest in pursuit

LMAOA I imagine them standing outside the base for the abusers or sth getting ready to go in and otoyas like “woohoo a date with nurse joy here I come!” And readers like “we’re so cooked” but in the end they somehow succeed time to cook up what Tullia and Karasu are doing LMAO wait imagine idk like a sorta filler ep moment maybe when you don’t feel like writing/posting something that super central to the main plot and we get the team split up first we see otoya reader then we get a snippet of Karasu tullia LMAO truly dumbass x dumbass chemical reaction there’s no strong duo than that!!! HAHAH another tally already this is so funny maybe he sends his staraptor out like usual but no one can find them fast enough to help them and they’re just like “hey guys!” Cue the “ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE” LMAO

REAL early gen art >>>> im never getting over the scovillain jumpscare it fr haunts me like what the hell is that…

Omg gojo dynamic from pi I agree that was peak (watch me be one of those people swerving to Karasu)

Ok circling back to birch because I saw the separate post first SO REAL ITS REALLY IS GIVING BIRCH??? Bro even his shirt and pants are kinda reminiscent of aiku colors and like I said the fuckass STUBBLE and the vibes just match too well he definitely would get chased into a tree by some runt pokemon LMAOOOOO retired soccer player Aiku is just Prof birch fr

Yeahhh I thought legendaries might’ve been too much which is why I only kinda considered it as a side plot only but when I was thinking of that I fr thought yk zekroms head is kinda giving karasus hair LMAOOO zapdos also gives really strong chigiri vibes but RAYQUAZA I love rayquaza I remember using its mega really often LMAO

Real an iPad is a more convenient size wise also I’m ngl I am a Google office (??) HATER I remember having to move a doc from word to gdocs and the entire formatting got fucked up and I was like what the fuck just happened????? Like the margins and spacings doubled and shit but wtv….i don’t use it unless i have too google sheets is also ASS bro my dumbass just said “wait is pages not on apple comps/macs” then I remembered that you said you have a windows….the way I already forgot that info from like two seconds ago….

JJK BORUTO crying lowk unless the sequel directly address and includes the current characters I probably won’t bother with anything beyond whatever makes it to my social media feeds either

LOOKING FORWARD TO IT aikulations or not I’ll be ready to laugh

YOU DESERVE IT you truly at the goat of goats wait that’s also so cool that’s essentially what I do when I read (except in reverse order) I lowk wonder how many things we imagine are the same (like small details yk) like I have a very clear visual of what the restaurant they sat in looks like and the outside and the parking lot (buildings and architecture are my greatest enemies in terms of drawing and layout though so I fear I won’t be able to draw it out but maybe I can find a similar looking place?? We’ll see LMAO) but yeah that essentially happens whenever I read stories and books too it’s kinda funny when I see cover art for a book and I’m like oh that’s not what I imagined but ok go off

But OMG???? I will keep my eyes peeled fs but if you’re saying it’s something insane it’ll definitely be something where I lose my mind over so now I’m even more curious LOL also that’s so me I definitely unintentionally pass out more than I should only to wake up and be like haha oh shit

LMAOO tiktok please send a hot audio Mira’s way!!! Im still amazed by bfb though 41k is actually insane for a one shot if anything I feel like that just means your next long fic is just gonna be HUGE wait actually speaking of assuming pursuit is like the pi long fic equivalent for bllk where do hollyhock and peregrine fall on the scale? Just kinda curious LOL not sure if you meant for those to be of the same length or if they’re not like long long if ykwim

Also I’d like you to know that right as I was about to hit send i select all’ed (??) this entire ask and almost deleted it I think if that happened I would’ve passed out

- Karasu anon

THE AIKU BIRCH PARALLEL I WAS CRYINGGGG it was too good 😭 the vibes match up SO well too i can just see niko rescuing him with a random starter pokémon so well LMAOAOA niko the true protagonist of pursuit boruto nagiy/n daughter charles and kurona are just side characters in his adventure

okay ykw is hilarious i just checked yuki’s team and he has an electric type too (manectric) so karasu DEFINITELY needs a ground type because of his electric type ptsd 😭 once he gets garchomp and lucario though he honestly has a good shot at beating yuki just in terms of type match ups though…like talonflame easily takes breloom, honchkrow can deal with alakazam, lucario packs up steelix, garchomp beats noivern and manectric, so the only one left is azumarill and ngl i think one of the birds like staraptor or pidgeot has a decent chance against that KFFJDJSJ so at the end of the day karasu does clutch up 🤩

LMAOO the funniest thing is like because she gets deino relatively early (i think it’ll be her third pokémon??? she’ll catch joltik beforehand) none of karasu’s birds have fully evolved yet so he’s just like WHERE IS MY DAMN STARLY in my mind his birds don’t evolve until he runs away because they need that freedom and consistently tough battling to really be pushed into evolution yk?? but no you’re so right pursuit karasu is so ideal man like nagi’s lucky reader brotherzoned karasu immediately or else he’d be in trouble (jk)

LITERALLY bro otoya’s just thinking about how nurse joy will love him after his (she won’t) meanwhile reader’s like yeah we’re done for but somehow they pull it off (probably thanks to joltik aka undisputed goat of reader’s team) but omg imagine it’s like reader and otoya going through hell trying to save all of these pokémon and then the chapter just cuts to tullia and karasu trying on clothes FJSKDJSJ infernape’s getting a massage karasu’s buying treats for starly it’s truly such a contrast 😭 HELP reader and otoya are subject to an entire lecture from karasu afterwards (mostly otoya because reader told karasu it was his fault) they’re just sitting there like niko after the game against team z LMAOAOAOA

IT HAUNTS ME TOO DW I THINK ABOUT IT QUITE FREQUENTLY AND NEGATIVELY HAHAAHA the early gen art with the water color vibe is so pretty though i love it!!

please it’s okay i’m doing my best not to swerve myself 😟 it’s fine though as long as i give a pi gojo vibe to him too it should be okay i hope…like this is our stressed out bird obsessed big brother DJFJSJS we have to lock in and go crazy for nagi fr

okay wait imagine that pursuit is kind of like a prequel to the main games?? in the sense that reader and nagi and all fix training and the perception of trainers so it’s closer to what it’s like in the game series…and then niko is the protagonist of the games themselves (i can def see him w one of the little zygarde cells as well as zygarde itself) with nagiy/n’s daughter, charles, and kurona as the little trio of rivals ☝🏻 nagiy/n’s daughter getting yveltal (taking after her mother in terms of looking sweet but having demonic team members), kurona getting xerneas, and charles getting nothing (him with a legendary is TERRIFYING)

brooo google suite sucks but it’s more convenient than word because i can access it on my phone without any extra effort 😓 so a bit more convenient than word for that reason but it’s so glitchy and annoying that i just switched to pages straight up LMAOAOAOA

i feel like everyone must picture smth different!! especially because i don’t describe settings to the point that it’s very obvious what you’re supposed to be imagining just general vibes yk…i feel like it’s probably based on your prior experiences?? but if you ever draw or find reference images do send them in hehe i will appreciate it 🤩

AAHHH I’M ASSUMING IT LIVED UP TO THE HYPE pursuit drop last night was crazy fr 😰 given that the mini prologue was 2.5k words alone i think we can predict that the word count is going to be insane 😭 peregrine if i had to guess would be in that 80-100k word count range and hollyhock could be more or less than that really depending on how deep i decide to go with the lore and how much of the in between i decide to show!! if that makes sense LMAOO

[xyixxesx]

can I have this dance | m.f.

pairing: megumi fushiguro x reader

summary: you and megumi dance around an invite to the school dance.

a/n: pretty sure Sadie Hawkins isn’t a thing in Japan??? (forgive me if I’m mistaken), but for the sake of this imagine, the girls are meant to ask the boys to the dance rather than the other way around.

.

.

“I heard that girl Hana crying in gym about getting rejected for the dance.”

megumi didn’t respond. didn’t even show any signs of having heard what she said at all, but she knew he did. 

“holdin’ out for someone special?” tsumiki continued with a smile playing at her lips. “like y/n?”

a blush burned at his cheeks and he smacked his lips, turning his head off to the side. “tch. don’t be stupid. we’re just friends.”

“well, I know that,” she humored him. “but friends can go to school dances together, right?”

“no.” he grumbled. “don’t wanna go to the dance with her. don’t wanna go to the dance at all.”

“oh, I see.” she mused, pretending to believe him. “so it wouldn’t bother you if a certain basketball player asked her if she was going to ask him this morning in the cafeteria?”

his eyes widened for a split second before he caught and composed himself. “pfft. what do I care?”

except he cared a lot. he wished he could ask you what you said in response, but you’d hold onto that forever. you’d probably go on and on about it if he threw you even the thinnest line that suggested that he had even the slightest feelings for you. and he couldn’t have that. so he waited to talk to you in class later on in the day so he could think about how to best present his case in the utmost platonic way he could think up.

he meant to sit and grill you about why in the hell some random guy thought you would be asking him to the dance. to remind you that the guys on the team were pigs and tasteless pieces of garbage that you had no business going on pity dates with, but instead, he froze you out. he was quiet well into the first half of the class period despite every effort you made to talk to him. he only offered nods or singular grunts or hums, or sometimes nothing at all until you turned in your stool to face him directly. 

“what’s up?” 

his head turned, taken aback only a little by your sudden forwardness. “nothing?” 

you huffed at him, making a face that he came to identify as discontent in the span of your friendship. on any other occasion, he would huff back and mimic your expression, but today he just turned back to the table in front of him and continued to study his assignment. 

your eyes widened. offended and fed up with his antics, you pulled at his arm in attempt to get him to turn and look at you. on its own, it probably wouldn't have worked, but he shrugged out of your hold and turned to face you so you wouldn’t try to grab him up again. his growing aggravation and your incessant need to be so touchy all the damn time wasn't a good combo right now. 

“what’s wrong with you?” 

“nothing.” he deadpanned with a straight, bored face. “what’s wrong with you?”

he wasn’t the greatest at communicating his feelings. you got that, but the way he asked the question was flippant, and you struggled not to feel insulted. you didn’t want to fight, and you both clearly needed a second or two to calm down, so you mumbled a curt “never mind” and git back to your work.

a few hours after school, he had composed and deleted at least ten different texts to you trying to salvage what he had stupidly messed up before a text from you came through. you were asking him to come over, which was perfect. he could apologize for being short with you and he could also spend some time with you, something that he really enjoyed, but would die before admitting out loud. 

when you opened the door, he was rubbing at the back of his neck with worry written all over his face. “hey,” he greeted hesitantly. “I was just gonna text you, you know when you asked me to come, I just,” he sighed. “I wanted to-”

“why don’t we talk inside?” you offered with a small smile. you pulled him inside and through your house, all the way to your bedroom. “I wanna show you something,” you told him, falling onto your bed while he shut the door and took a seat near the foot of it. he perched a leg up on the mattress so he could have his body turned to face you. “but first, I wanna talk about what was bothering you earlier.” 

his throat ran dry. of course you wanted to talk about this right her and now, in your bedroom of all places. you were asking him to look you in your eyes and explain that he was jealous. and he didn't know how. 

he had somehow avoided this conversation the entirety of their friendship up until this point, and now he was being almost forced into having it all because he couldn’t check his emotions. so now what was he supposed to do? lie to you? you didn’t do anything wrong, and he had never lied to you before, not unless you consider him hiding the fact that he was so in love with you that it physically hurt, but he considered that more of a little white omission rather than a lie. 

“I made a girl cry today.”

it wasn't like it sounded out of character for him. he was kind of a big, mean jerk, and a lot of people were afraid of him, but negative responses and feedback from his victims never seemed to bother him before, so what gives?

“yeah? how did that happen?”

megumi sighed, still not looking at you. “told her I didn’t wanna go to the dance with her.”

the dance. your jaw set and you reared back just a little. you really had no idea where he was going with this, but if the story ended in him miraculously agreeing to some girl’s invite, you were gonna blow a gasket. “oh, yeah? why’s that?”

he rolled his eyes, discomfort manifesting itself as annoyance. “don’t wanna go to the stupid dance.” he mumbled.

you hated to think that he meant it. you knew that he had never been to a dance before, and this could be a really special night for the two of you. that is, if he didn’t reject you the way he had that nameless girl he mentioned before. “don’t wanna go to the dance, or don’t wanna go with her?”

he kept his head down and shrugged.

“megumi?” you prompted softly after he fell silent for a little too long. 

“think the person I wanna go with may have asked somebody else.”

your heart was beginning to sink, but you swallowed your pride and pushed on. “oh... I'm sorry, gumi, um... maybe they-”

“I mean,” he suddenly picked up over you with a new false sense of courage.“some guy from the basketball team did ask you to ask him. didn’t he?”

your entire thought process fell off and your brain short circuited. “I... well, yeah, but... does that mean that I...” your sentence faded out and the biggest smile threatened to tear your face in two, but megumi was too busy picking apart every last detail of your carpet with his eyes. no way in hell was he gonna look up at you right now. not until you got up from your bed and disappeared into your closet, only to return with a medium sized teddy bear.

you took a seat on the floor in front of him so he had no choice to look at you. he huffed and turned his head again, reisisting the urge to cross his arms and grumbled, “what is that for?”

“for you.” you announced giddily, thrusting it out towards him. 

he snatched the bear from your hands and assessed the small sign in between the bear’s paws:

friday night would be un - bear - able without you! <3

he eyed the bear, completely dumbfounded, while his face began to heat up. 

“gumi, will you be my date to the dance?”

[game-set-canet]

wwoild u write for berrettini? like his girlfeiend wins a slam

One about crying

Pairing: Matteo Berrettini x f!reader

Summary: You win your first Grand Slam and Matteo is very proud of you.

category: fluff, happiness

warnings: none

Author’s Note: i hope you like it 😊 also: English isn't my first language, so I'm very sorry for mistakes!

* Y/N = your name * Y/L/N = your last name

MY  M A S T E R L I S T

(not my gif! credits to the owner/creator!)

♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦ - ♦

Matteo has never been so nervous in his entire life. Not during his very first match on the ATP, not during his first final and also not during the Wimbledon final. Never. But now he had the feeling that he would faint with nervousness at any moment. Right now, you were playing your first ever Grand Slam final. The stadium was full of cheering people watching a breath-taking tennis match. Iga Świątek vs. Y/N Y/L/N. Iga won the first set but you managed to win the second one and now you were fighting in a tight Tiebreak for the win.

“Dio mio!”, Matteo feels like he couldn’t breathe probably, “please Y/N…”

But your next return was too long and went out.

Match ball Świątek.

Matteo is shaking, clenching his hands into fists and restless sliding back and forth on the seat in the players' box. Without really realising it, Matteo's fingers wander to his right wrist to play with the fine leather bracelet you gave him for your second anniversary - you are wearing the same bracelet, Matteo can see it from where he is sitting.

This was torture. Pure hell.

Matteo wants to shout something: Tips, advice, words of encouragement, reassuring words. Anything to help you. But he couldn't make a sound.

You truly were on fire during these two weeks and watching you playing and winning made Matteo forget that he lost in the 3rd round against Alcaraz. He honestly didn’t care because it gave him the opportunity to watch your matches live.

All he wants is a win for you. You deserve to win the US Open. You deserve to win a Grand Slam. And you deserve to win it now.

Matteo played a lot of tennis matches and watched even more of them, but he doesn’t know how you managed to win the next two points.

Match ball Y/L/N.

Matteo holds his breath as you serve, his heart is pounding like mad, his head is spinning.

Iga's return lands in the net.

“Game, Set, Match Y/L/N!”

Matteo starts crying tears of happiness.

*** *** *** *** ***

Your whole team starts cheering, clapping, shouting as you enter the tunnel. Everyone is crying: your mum, your dad, your physio, even your coach had a little tear running down his face. Then your eyes fall on Matteo. He beams at you, his handsome face shows traces of tears, but he looks so happy and proud that he is the first person you run towards and let him embrace you and spin you around.  

His arms are wrapped tightly around you; you can feel him trembling slightly. He whispers something, but you only understand him when he repeats it for the third time: "Ti amo...Ti amo così tanto...Ti amo..."

You didn’t cry. Not directly after the win, not at the award ceremony and not during your speech. But now, seeing all these emotions in the faces of your team members and hearing Matteo whispering in a broken voice, you start crying too.

*** *** *** *** ***

After a long press conference and an extensive celebration with your team and your family, it is almost morning when Matteo and you arrive in your hotel room. Through the large windows of the hotel room you can already see the dawn.

Matteo’s carrying the trophy and places it on the nightstand. HIS nightstand.

“That’s my trophy”, you laugh while you kick off your shoes and throw yourself on the large bed.

“Well, technically it is but I would say I own at least 10% of it because I trained with you the last few days, I gave you an incredible massage yesterday evening and without me you’d have overslept today, so…”, your boyfriend grins at you – clearly joking – as he lies down next to you.

His face only centimetres aways from yours.

Matteo’s expression suddenly become more serious: “I’m very proud of you…”

“I know, I’ve figured it out because of the tears and the ‘ti amo’s and because you wouldn’t let me go once you started to hug me and-”

“No, that’s not what I mean.”, he shakes his head slowly, grabs your hand and intertwine your fingers, “I’m REALLY proud of you. Not only because you won your first Grand Slam today – I mean, I’m very proud because you won today – but I’m proud of you how you handled everything the last few days.”, he presses a kiss on the knuckles of your hand, “All the media, the interviews, the pressure…I…back at Wimbledon last year I was a wreck…I mean, without you I wouldn't have slept, I wouldn't have eaten...I probably would have just collapsed before the match”, he takes a deep breath, “But you…you were so calm, so collected…you didn’t get nervous when Iga had her match ball and I almost vomited right in the players box and…”, he stops, shrugs his shoulders and buries his face in your neck.

You feel tears come to your eyes again.

Wimbledon 2021 had been difficult. Matteo had been disappointed in himself and even if he had been able to suppress his disappointment with the victory of the Italian national football team, he had been dejected and disappointed in himself for a long time. It had broken your heart.

“Do you remember our talk in the locker room back then?”, you gently stroke through Matteo's hair and place a kiss on the hairline, “Where you apologised to me because you thought you had disappointed me after losing the final?”

Matteo answers nothing to this but makes an agreeing noise.

This reaction makes you smile a little, but you want to hear it from him: “What did I say to you?”

Your boyfriend exhales heavily: “That I didn’t disappoint you.”, his voice sounds muffled as his face is still buried in the crook of your neck, his breath tickles your skin, “That I could never let you down. That I gave everything on the court and could be proud of myself. That you were proud of me. That you love me.”

Matteo is almost lying on top of you (under other situations he would probably worry that he would be too heavy for you), you have your arms wrapped tightly around each other.

“And then?”

“Then I felt better.”, he slowly lifts his head to look you in the eyes.

“And do you remember what you said to me after I almost lost against Ons in the semi-final?”

“That no matter what - whether you win or lose - you are the best for me. That I love you. That I don't care if you win some stupid trophy or not”, he leans his forehead against yours, his nose brushes yours.

“See?”, you smile at him, “I mean, of course, I was nervous because of this final but having you by my side made everything easier. Because I knew…even if I had lost, we would be lying here now...you would hold me, kiss me, tell me you love me and that is all I need.”, you hesitate for a moment and you swallow, “Yes, I know you shouldn't say that as a professional athlete, but you are the most important thing to me...”, you raise a hand to stroke his cheek , “In that sense, I won my important treasure two years ago when I dared to ask you to train with me and when we had our first date because of that....”

“Oh stop this!”, Matteo blushes a little and breaks the eye contact, “I’m very emotional today and if you don’t stop saying such things I will start crying again!”

You laugh softly and wrap your arms around him even tighter: “Matteo?”

It takes a few seconds until he looks at you again: “Mh?”, his brown eyes full of love.

“Ti amo”

You melt into a soft kiss.

[littleredwing89]

AGENT OF CHAOS - PART THREE

AGENT OF CHAOS - PART THREE

Jason Todd x Reader

Summary: Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

Warnings – Language. Kidnapping. Stalking. Mild Violence. Angst. Hurt.

Word Count: 4,870

A/N: This is the final chapter everyone, sorry for the little delay, I was working on a few of the actions scenes to ensure they were good. I really hope you all like this xoxo

~~~

It had been almost a month. Every lead turned into a dead end. Nothing. Much like the Joker himself, no one knew a thing. The whole thing was tearing Jason apart. He’d barely slept. He’d maybe had 3 hours per night. If that, and he was convinced the only reason he got sleep was because Bruce had slipped him something in his coffee.

The fourth cassette tape came with a dead yellow rose and a rotten apple. He pushed play on the recorder and swallowed thickly as the grainy camera zoomed in on your face. You looked pale. Your cheeks looked hollow and your once colourful eyes looked gaunt. Haunted.

“Well Jason, I’m a man of my word...I’ve been looking after her so good”, Joker laughed hysterically and smoothed his hand down your cheek, smacking it lightly. The slap caused you to jolt in the chair. A sharp gasp flew out of your chapped lips.

Jason felt Bruce’s hand squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. The notion sent a brief wave of calm through Jason. Maybe this was how Bruce felt all those years ago...when he received similar tape of ..of himself. Jason turned back to the screen and focused his eyes. Searching for a clue. Anything. Something to bring you back to him.

“She’s been such a good little princess bird boy...she’s done everything I asked...and more”, Joker whistled happily as he tapped your nose with a wicked smile. Jason felt his heart stop and looked directly into your eyes through the screen. Good he wanted to hold you in his arms and never let you go. 

The tape skipped and replayed the same thing back, “...and more”. It skipped again, “...and more”. Jason growled and the tape paused before going completely black.

His fist smashed into the computer keyboard, pieces of black plastic scattering across the desk. Jason released a loud sobbing noise and sank to the cold stone floor of the bat cave. His eyes scrunched shut tightly, imagining you were in front of him. Giving him that silly smile you always did when you first woke up. It was one of his favourite smiles. You had hundreds of different types of smiles. The one you gave him when he hugged you randomly. The one you’d give him when he told you a stupid joke. The one you’d show him when you were both standing down one of the grocery aisles for no reason at all.

“Jason...son - we will find her - I promise you”, Bruce’s deep voice shattered Jason’s illusion of you in his mind.

“It’s been so long...what if-”, Jason ran a hand over his face. The stubble was longer, causing him to itch.

“Don’t”, Bruce warned, “don’t think like that. We will find her”.

~~~

The last cassette tape Jason received was covered in a dark, red sticky substance. Jason knew what it was but he didn’t know if it was yours. Before Jason could even think about playing it, Bruce had prized it from his fingers.

“Jason we need to analyse the blood, it might give us a clue”, his voice was stable and deep. He attempted to reassure Jason with a firm grip to the shoulder but it did nothing. Jason felt empty without you.

“We need to watch-”, Jason started but was interrupted by Bruce.

“No, I’ll watch it. You need to get some sleep, let me do this Jason. Please”, Bruce pleaded desperately, “You haven’t slept in over 48 hours”.

Jason laughed but it was hollow and sharp, “You really think I can sleep knowing she’s stuck with that fucking psycho?!”.

Bruce sighed and ran a hand over his face, “Jason I know you want to get Y/N back”, he placed the cassette onto a high tech scanning machine, it bleeped repeatedly as it scanned over the material, “But we all need to be working together and that means recharging our batteries”.

Jason scoffed and pushed past Bruce looking over the computer scanner typing something into the system, “So you’re telling me you went and had an eight hour sleep when Joker caught me?”.

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose, “Jason”.

“JUST STOP!!”, Jason's voice cracked as he shouted and for a moment, he sounded like the broken man in the abandoned shopping mall that long Halloween night many years ago.

“I-I need to do this Bruce. I-I have to, for Y/N”, his voice was scratchy and raw. 

Bruce simply nodded and turned around. He extracted the cassette from the blood stained cloth and pushed it into the player to the right. Bruce took a secondary glance to Jason, giving him one last option but Jason just stared at the screen, waiting to see what the tape would show.

The second the tape played, the batcave was filled with your screams. They sounded broken and dry. Jason’s heart shattered. The shards stabbing him painfully. As you came into view on the camera, your long h/c hair was matted and stuck to your face. Blood staining it a deep red.

The Joker came into the view of the camera and smiled wide, his teeth showing.

“Jason, I see why you’re so attached to this woman, she’s very fiery...her spirit is impenetrable”.

A flicker of evil flew through his eyes at that word and a sick smile slid onto his lips, “but that’s fine. I’m sure I can find more penetrable spots”.

You tug harshly at your binds as he turned and came closer to you, a small blade held in his gloves hand.

“Hold still princess or I might accidentally cut an important part of you...or slit something”.

The blade cut the straps of your top, and the material fluttered down uselessly to the floor, exposing your padded black bra. The Joker whistled appreciatively and winked back at the camera.

“I say Jason...maybe I’m missing out not having a significant other...especially when they’re as beautiful as this”.

Jason had edged so close to the screen Bruce had to pull him back. Tears were running hotly down his cheeks and he swore he tasted blood from biting down on his bottom lip.

Your voice echoed through the empty warehouse room and through the camera speakers, “GO FUCK YOURSELF”.

The Joker smirked down at you and the blade was pressed against the skin of your neck.

“You should watch your manners, princesses don’t speak like that”.

You gulped and looked into his soulless eyes and laughed. It almost sounded as maniacal as his.

“I’m not your fucking princess”.

You spat at his face. Your spit mingled with blood from the earlier smack around the face.

“He’ll come for me...I know he will. And when he does, it’ll be all over for you”.

Something snapped and you saw his eyes darken. His face twisted and the scowl was demonic.

“You filthy fucking bitch!”, he roared and dropped the knife to wipe his face.

Joker turned to the camera and glowered, “I hope you’re watching Jason whilst I teach this rotten little whore some manners!”.

The first blow caused you to cry out in agony. It was harsh and fast. The sound to Jason was ear splitting. The second hit was drawn out and heavy. Designed to bruise. The third was sharp and felt like hundreds of tiny needles piercing your skin. The Joker was laughing wildly all the way through it. Never ceasing his treatment. As he swung his arm back for the fourth hit, the camera jarred and caught a window. Streams of light shone through. Jason could just about make out a sign. It was blurry.

“REWIND AND PAUSE IT BRUCE! There!!!”, he called and waited for Bruce to zoom in.

“Can you clear up that image...that looks like a road sign...”.

Bruce skipped the tape back several seconds, muting the sounds on the screen. The sounds of you getting smacked in the face shaking him to his core. 

“THERE!!! LOOK!! Can you see?!”, Jason pressed his face as close as possible to the screen as Bruce paused it, the image flickered but the road sign was obvious. 

ACE CHEMICALS.

Before Bruce could even react, Jason had launched himself across the cave, guns strapped to his thighs.

“Jason!”.

Jason ignored Bruce and grabbed his helmet, securing it into place whilst dropping extra magazine clips into his inner jacket pockets.

“Jason, we can’t just go in there all guns blazing. That’s what he’ll want! We have to think about this”, Bruce reasoned and moved into his path.

Huffing in annoyance, Jason’s modulator covered it easily, “I’m going to get her whether you come with me or not”.

Bruce looked stunned for a split second before softening his voice, “You’re letting your emotions get the better of you - they’re clouding your judgment Jason”.

He knew he was right, deep down. But the pressure. The torture you must have endured. Everything. It weighed down on Jason and began to suffocate him slowly. The more time he wasted, the worse it was going to be. He couldn’t do it.

“Let me get into my suit and we’ll tackle this together”.

Nodding briefly, Jason watched Bruce make his way across to the darkened corner of the cave where his suit was behind a glass panel. As Bruce pressed his palm into the wall, the biometric scanner bleeped. The case slid open slowly and Bruce began to take out the suit piece by piece. The batarangs refracted the light they caught from the computer screens.

Fuck. It was taking too long, these precious seconds. He could be half way there by now. His bike was too far away, in the garage at the front of the manor. He side eyed the batmobile and swallowed thickly.

“Fuck it”.

Taking the keys from the secret sliding panel on the desk, Jason leapt into the batmobile before starting the engine and speeding out of the cave. He swore he heard Bruce shouting, he was certain he heard several curse words too. Unlike Bruce. But it was taking too long. He couldn’t wait. He couldn’t leave you. You needed him. You couldn’t wait any longer.

~~~

Everything flew by him in a blur as he sped through the streets of Gotham. His foot slammed down harder on the accelerator desperate to get there faster. Every second counted. He knew all too well what The Joker was like. The way his face slipped as you defied him, terrified Jason. He’d seen that look right before receiving a crowbar to the face.

“Come on...come on!!”, Jason cursed to himself, hitting the steering wheel in fury. All the money Bruce had and it wouldn’t go any faster? He took a sharp turn heading towards the abandoned warehouse behind ACE Chemicals. He was so close. So much closer to reaching you. He’d deal with Bruce later. He couldn’t have waited any longer. Bruce would just have to get over him ‘borrowing’ the batmobile.

Swerving another corner and narrowly dodging the underpass columns, he pulled up in front of the derelict building. Almost all of the windows were smashed and hued green with mould. Maybe some of the toxins spewed from the factory had helped taint the glass further.

Grabbing both of his pistols, Jason left the car and headed towards the building fire escape. He could hear voices chattering.

“Joker said to keep an eye out for Batman”.

A goon; Jason noted peering around the brick wall spotting two of them. He noticed the metal railings above them creaking slightly in the strong winds.

“It’s been over a month now and there’s been no sign of any of the Bat freaks, it’s fine, let’s go grab a beer. He won’t even notice”, a second one encouraged the other smirking.

“You really want to cross him? He’s fucking nuts. I’m surprised the girl has even lasted this long with him, you know what he’s like”.

Jason’s fist tightened around one of his guns at the mention of you. It had to be you. Silently firing his grapple gun, he flew up the side of the building and made his way towards the goons.

“Trust me”, the first one spoke again, “He won’t even realise we’re gone, plus we might find some chicks to-”.

Perching on the railings above them, Jason leapt down cracking the base of his pistols onto one of their heads.

“Pleasure to meet you both”, Jason kicked out at the second goon hearing the sick crack of his ankle snapping.

Spinning on his heel, Jason grabbed the other goon and threw him face first into the brick wall knocking him unconscious immediately before turning back to the other man on the floor whimpering in pain.

“Where is she?”, Jason’s voice was strained even with the modulator protecting him.

The man refused to answer, dragging himself away from Jason with his hands, mud covering his palms.

Taking a large step, Jason reached the man on the floor and purposely stood onto his swollen ankle before aiming the cocked pistol towards his skull.

“I won’t ask again, where is she?”.

The screech from the man was deafening as Jason applied a hefty amount of pressure to his fractured bone.

“Basement!! She’s in the basement!! Please!!”, he begged as his eyes flickered nervously to the gun.

Jason rolled his shoulders before smashing the hilt of his pistol into his skull knocking him out cold. He turned back towards the fire escape and grappled back up to the roof. He’d have to make his way through the building to get to the basement. To you. And if he knew Joker, he wouldn’t have made it that easy. The two idiots on the front door were a sick joke. Tormenting Jason. Getting you back wouldn’t be an easy task.

~~~

Silently dropping through the window on top of the building, Jason landed onto one of the rusty steel girders. It was dark but his helmet adjusted the night vision so he could see clearly. Several goons patrolling an old foreman’s office in the centre. You had to be in there. He needed to take these idiots out quietly before getting to you.

Swinging across to the next rafter, Jason looked down at the first unsuspecting moron. With the stealth of a panther, he landed silently behind the goon before wrapping his arm around his meaty neck. He struggled against the iron grip of Jason’s forearm but the pressure only intensified the more he thrashed. Eventually the squirming stopped and the goon fell limp in his arms. Jason dragged him across to a darkened corner and dumped him behind some barrels.

As he grappled back up to roof beams, he looked down across at the two henchmen digging out a packet of cigarettes. The idiots had left their guns resting against the far wall. Jason had to chuckle to himself, Joker really was hiring morons. Weren’t these guys supposed to be protection? 

Jason creeped across the rafters towards the two men and grabbed both of his pistols. He had to be silent. He couldn’t alert Joker to his presence.

“This is my last smoke”, one complained bitterly as the cigarette perched between his thin lips.

“I’ll get the next packet, quit your whining”, the second growled and patted his jacket for a lighter, “Fuck, where did I put my lighter?”.

“You’re a fucking moron. You asked to come for a smoke and you don’t even have a light!!”.

Now was his chance. Jason landed between them both, his boots thudding as he hit the concrete floor, “You know, smoking is bad for your health”. Before either of the goons could react, Jason lifted his elbow into the larger man's throat before smashing his pistol into the other man's temple, causing him to drop onto his knees. He slipped his guns back into his holsters quickly before turning to the other goon. He dodged the larger man’s grapple before twisting with ease and kicking out his kneecap. The man gasped but the elbow to his throat had killed off his voice.

Jason threw a heavy right hook into the larger man's nose and watched the blood trickle down his face. This seemed to only infuriate him more and he launched himself towards Jason viciously. Gripping both of his arms, Jason flipped the man over his body and slammed him into the floor hard before hammering punch after punch to his face, knocking him unconscious.

He turned quickly to the other man who was scrambling on his knees for the gun resting against the far wall.

“Sorry bud, but that can’t happen”, Jason grunted and landed a heavy kick to the goons stomach. The man yelped but it was quickly cut off by Jason as he slammed his boot into his face. He dropped onto the floor instantly.

Jason panted heavily and looked around the room, his helmet advising him of one more goon loitering around the door of the office. Looking down at the floor he noticed the floor grates wrapped around the room and more importantly under the henchmen’s feet. Perfect.

He lifted one of the grate coverings quietly and slipped under the flooring. He crouched down and edged around the room. The last goon was much larger and bulkier, with a machine gun strapped around his wide chest.

This goon seemed smarter than the others. Looking around and even checking up in the rafters. He grunted and pressed a button on his jacket, “No boss, still no sign of them...nothing Sir”.

The voice that patched through sent a chill down Jason’s spine. It was a tone that would be forever cemented in his mind, a reminder of his own torment.

“If you get ANY inclination the bat or any of his costumed freaks are in the building, you tell me immediately”.

“Yes boss”.

The static of the radio crackled before cutting off completely. Jason cursed mentally. This had to be precise. Perfection. He had to disable the henchman’s radio unit. Padding over his jacket he searched for the disrupter shooter he had. It wasn’t there. Fuck. He’d fucked up in his rush and left it behind. Fuck. Bruce was right. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Then he heard it. A soft ping from above him. He knew that sound. Jason looked up from the grate and spotted Nightwing hidden in the shadows with his own disrupter. Pointed directly at the goon’s radio system.

“Thought you might need a hand”, Dick patched into Jason’s com line.

Jason growled under his breath, “Thanks”.

“Shall we take this moron out together?”.

“Yes”, Jason muttered before switching his com off and inched closer to the goon.

The second Nightwing flew down from the roof beams, Jason jumped out of the floor grate and kicked out the back of the goons knees. He cursed loudly before Nightwing’s foot landed in his face.

Jason swore he saw a tooth fly out of his mouth along with a glob of blood. He aimed several hard punches to the side of the henchman’s head whilst Nightwing disabled his gun and radio with a graceful poise.

“All this for the girl? She’s nothing but a shell”, the goon smirked across at Jason before choking at the next punch.

“Joker’s hollowed her out...she’s nothing”, he spat out.

His temper flared and his hand subconsciously reached for his pistol. Dick realised and before anything could happen, he landed an electrical ecrisma blow to the goons head, knocking him out cold. His body crashed onto the floor with a loud thump.

“Jason-”.

“Don’t”, Jason cut him off, “I’m fine”.

He took several steps towards the office door and swallowed thickly. You. You’d be in there. You’d told Joker with the last ounce of confidence left that he’d come for you. He’d never leave you. You were right. Jason would never have stopped looking. Ever.

His hand rested on the door handle, trembling only slightly. What if he was too late. What if this was just another trick?

Drawing his hand back almost as though the door had burnt him. He frowned. He couldn’t think like this. No. He had to be strong. Just like you had been in all those videos. You’d been fierce. Your spirit still pouring through to him.

Jason glared angrily at the door and took a step back before kicking it open furiously with his combat boot. The door flew open wildly and as the dust settled. He saw Joker stood in the middle of the room, a sick, satisfied smirk sat proudly on his demented face.

~~~

“Jason my boy! It’s a pleasure to see you again”, his chuckle was deep and sinister, “I see you're still hiding your face though...is that because of what I did?”. The Joker’s eyes danced with delirious joy at the memories.

“I’d have thought you’d have embraced all your scars by now Jason...”, The Joker edged forward leaving you tied up behind him.

Jason rounded The Joker, clicking a button to the side of his mask, revealing his face, his eyes hidden with the domino mask, “I’ve got nothing to hide from you, clown”.

Jason let his eyes run over you for a second. You were bruised and bloodied. Clothes torn and tattered from mistreatment. Your eyes. God. Your beautiful E/C eyes. Red raw from countless tears. Somehow you still managed to give him a smile from behind The Joker. His heart fluttered. God he’d missed your smile.

Tearing his eyes from you he looked back towards The Joker and held his pistols out at him, finger hovering over the trigger. Jason felt the burn mark on his cheek stinging all over again. Pain ever present.

“You don’t have the guts”, The Joker laughed again and walked forward pressing his forehead into the barrel of the gun.

“You wouldn’t dare pull that trigger. I’m your Ace card Jason. You can’t kill me. You want to but you can’t...something will always stop you”.

Jason felt his hand shaking slightly. Everything was throbbing in his mind.

“Even after everything I’ve done to your girl, you still can’t pull that trigger”, The Joker taunted further and grinned sadistically.

“If only you knew where I’d touched...what I’ve done...”, he pushed further into the cold metal of the gun and winked at Jason, “Go on, do it, I dare you...if you don’t- I’m just going to keep coming back and who knows what I’ll do to our little princess next-”.

BANG.

A gun shot blasted through the air. Smoke drifted slowly from the barrel, dancing into the darkness around them.

“JASON!”.

Nightwing had thrown one of his ecrisma sticks to Jason’s gun, knocking it off target. The bullet shattered the brickwork behind them, dust erupting.

Crashing down through one of the broken windows on top of the office roof, Nightwing flew towards The Joker tackling him down onto the damp, concrete floor before he could launch himself at Jason.

Still startled, Jason watched Dick wrestling with The Joker on the floor, punches flying back and forth.

Dick turned to Jason, “Y/N-Jason!! Go get Y/N!! I’ll handle this!”.

The Joker was shrieking with laughter underneath Dick, blood pouring down his lip and from his nose.

“Ahhhh another boy blunder!! I must be lucky!! Two for the price of one!”.

Dick threw another punch and reached for the second ecrisma stick on his back, “I can’t wait to cart you back to the Asylum. I hope you’re looking forward to your 5 star stay in a windowless cesspit!”.

Jason could hear Joker continually laughing at Dick, until the sharp sound of electrical buzzing cut him off with a loud scream.

He almost fell over his own feet as he raced towards you. Jason quickly untied your hands and the second they were free you flung them around his neck, sobbing into his neck. Your tears dropping onto his brown leather jacket.

“Oh baby”, Jason stroked your hair and held you tightly to him. He was worried he was crushing you but you seemed to be squeezing him back just as hard.

You didn’t stop sobbing. The overwhelming emotion of being wrapped in his safe, strong arms make your knees buckle. Jason caught you with ease and lifted you up, “It’s ok baby, I’ve got you. I’ve always got you”.

Jason was one step away from breaking down himself but he needed to be strong for you right now.

You pressed your skin against his, the scratch of his stubble a welcome sting against your cheek. His scent overwhelmed you. Leather. Gunpowder. Smoke. And something distinct you’d never been able to place.

“Jason”.

“Shhh, it’s ok - nothing is going to hurt you, I’m here now - I’m a bit late but I’m here”.

~~~

It had been one week since you’d been back home. Two weeks if you counted the first week you and Jason spent holed up in the manor. Bruce had insisted. You sat in the bathtub, knees pressed up against your bare chest. Silence. All you could hear was the faint crackle of the bubbles every now and again. The clinical white tiles of the bathroom made you feel a little cleaner.

However,  no matter how many baths you took, showers you stood in, you still couldn’t wipe the feel of the slick purple gloves off your skin. Your skin. Skin that was now marred with yellowish bruising. Almost faded physically but not mentally. Looking over the marks you felt yourself transported back into the desolate warehouse. The dank smell of stagnant water filling your nostrils. You choked and coughed loudly, suddenly feeling the oxygen clam up your throat. Drowning in the memories.

“Y/N??”.

Within a mere second Jason had flung open the bathroom door, red tinting his cheek and a little sweat on his forehead, “Sweetheart are you ok?”.

You noted how he chose to call you sweetheart now and not his usual princess. A stark reminder that this whole ordeal had affected him too, more than he’d admitted. You felt the guilt eat away at you. Shame burning at your feet.

“Y-yeah, I’m ok”, you mumbled quietly and swirled some of the water and bubbles around you, “I just accidentally swallowed some of the bath water, I’m sorry”.

Jason nodded although not quite believing you. He closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of the tub taking a deep breath, “It’s ok to not be ok sweetheart...I know it can be difficult to admit that...I know that more than most”, he wiped a stray bubble from the rim of the tub. He looked at you deeply before continuing, “I’ll be here for you...whenever and whatever you need”.

You sat silently in the water and he moved to get up. Maybe he thought it was best to leave you alone, let you uncover your own emotions. Process what had happened. You gripped his wrist and looked up into the crystal blue of his eyes, “Jason”.

“Yeah babe?”, he turned his wrist in your hand and linked his fingers with yours.

“I love you”.

He smiled and squeezed your hand before whispering back, “I love you too, more than you know”.

He looked over you and moved to sit back on the edge of the bath. His spare hand reached out and cupped your chin lovingly, stroking over your skin.

“We’ll work through this together Y/N, I promise”, Jason murmured and leaned forward kissing your forehead lightly, “I’ll do whatever you need me to do...anything at all”.

The words, the touches, the kiss. It made your heart flutter and you fell even more in love with him. Jason made the impossible possible and you had no idea how he managed it every day. You felt so lucky.

“I - I struggle some d-days”, you admitted and with those words you felt a little lighter, “sometimes all I want is for you to hold me and not let me go...Sometimes I-I f-feel like that for hours...”.

“Well then I’ll hold you for hours”, he said simply.

You scoffed lightly but before you could protest or think of arguing back he was stepping into the bath water fully clothed.

“Jay!! You’re going to flood the bathroom”, you gasped loudly, watching the water splash over the sides like dramatic tidal waves. Water dispersed all over the bathroom floor to make way for his broad frame, “What are you doing?!”.

Jason sunk down into the water behind you and wrapped his arms either side, pulling you back into his clothed chest. He rested his head on your shoulder, pressing a chaste kiss there, “Holding you for as long as you need me to”.

You felt yourself melt into his warm embrace. Tears made their way down your cheeks at his endearing show of love, “Jason”.

“Shhh, just let me hold you baby”, he cuddled you tighter into him, his fingers stroking your hips under the water, brushing away the bruises. Marking you with his own special touch.

Relaxing under his soft caresses, you hummed lightly and closed your eyes resting your head back against him. He smelt like leather and spice. You felt at home. He was home.

“Jay”.

“Mmm?”.

“Please call me princess”, you whispered quietly into the air, your eyes still closed.

“Whatever you want...princess”.

~~~

Special Thanks: @offendedfishnoises​​ @internalsealpanic​​ @batarella​​ - thank you both for proof reading this and all the help you have given me - mwah mwah. xoxo

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~~~

[julemmaes]

ahem... cassian taking nesta to that bookstore (fluff, don’t try making shit sad aight?)

Our First Non-Date

SURPRISE I GUESS!!

Nessian Archeron x Cassian

You can find the first part here.

A/N: this month has been really nice on me. I finally feel better, not crying every day for literally nothing and I wanna dedicate this to my fren Sim (@perseusannabeth) cause homegirl just finished the offcampus series and she's grieving. I know she is. So yep. Take some Nessian fluff

And Nina, I had to add some angsty parts, but they're not Irene Angst Level, okay?

Word count: 6,833

When Cassian had called her back the night after their outing with Amren and Varian, she'd stared at the phone for a full minute until it had stopped ringing and she could go back to reading the article on poisonous plants that Elain had sent her.

It hadn't even been five minutes before the words had been obscured from the call screen again and the name "Cassian Navarro" appeared.

When she had ignored the call for the second time as well, he had decided to change tactics.

Hi Nes, I was thinking about when you'd be free to go to the library. I need a couple of manuals because I'm building a little gazebo in Rhys and Feyre's garden and your sister is putting a lot of pressure on me, so I was wondering if you had the day off tomorrow.

Nesta was stunned at the amount of useless information he had given her, but managed to reply with a simple, Working tomorrow, day off on Wednesday. Sending you the address later.

She certainly hadn't anticipated how hard it would be to get up that day, her will to live must have been hiding somewhere under her bed and Nesta didn't know if it was directly related to their going out or just her stupid brain not being able to connect to real life.

The only other worst thing she'd been able to think of at that moment was having to explain to Cassian what was going on, so, pulled out of bed by the future embarrassment they'd feel in such a situation, she'd managed to dress, wash and style her hair so that she had a braid crowning her head.

She hadn't put too much effort into deciding what to wear, after all, it wasn't a date and Cassian had seen her many times before in far more outrageous and scruffy clothes than the comfortable black jeans and grey jumper she was wearing right now.

The silence had made her uncomfortable at first, only because Cassian seemed to be really stressed - about what, she certainly wouldn't ask - but after about ten minutes, he'd turned on the radio and popped a CD into the player and the melody of a Verve song had filled the cabin.

She'd started humming under her breath and he'd looked at her with a faint smile on his lips and his eyes sparkling. She hadn't mulled over that look too much, but she'd started eyeing him more closely and noticed the way he narrowed his eyes at every street sign and how he ran a hand over his face every time a strand of hair landed in front of his eyes.

When Cassian had to blow the hair out of his face for the millionth time, Nesta pulled a rubber band off her wrist and handed it to him abruptly.

Cassian looked surprised, but took it almost immediately, brushing her fingers. Nesta immediately withdrew her hand, feeling how warm and calloused his were.

"Thanks, my hair is killing me today," he finally spoke.

Nesta continued to look ahead, noticing that they were about to enter the highway. "Well, it wasn't very wise of you not to tie it up before you got in the car. I never drive with my hair down."

He nodded slowly, still with the band clutched between his fingers. And then, suddenly he let go of the steering wheel, "Hold that for me for a second." and Nesta's eyes went wide, launching herself at him to grab it and keep the car in their lane.

"Are you nuts?" she almost shrieked, keeping her gaze fixed on the road and feeling every nerve ending vibrate with anger.

"Relax." he said in a calm tone, shifting her hands and gently pushing her back into her seat one more time. "It wasn't even five seconds."

Nesta huffed out a laugh that lacked amusement, "You do something like that again without warning me first and I'm getting out of the car."

Cassian looked at her with a raised eyebrow, "A bit dramatic, but alright."

She sighed, shaking her head slightly and resting it on her hand propped against the window.

That awkward silence fell again and Nesta couldn't figure out what the problem was. She hadn't felt any kind of unease three days before, but after all, they'd been with friends and busy walking, not stuck in a car for two hours with no chance of walking away or splitting up.

And in that moment, the reality of their situation overwhelmed her.

She forced herself to steady her breathing, opening the window slightly so that more air could get in. She forced herself to think about all the things she would see today at the library and how beautiful and spectacular it had looked from mere pictures. She wasn't going to let her twisted mind stop her from having fun with someone who was desperately trying to be her friend.

She took a deep breath and a surprising calm enveloped her. She looked to her left to see if Cassian had noticed that temporal change in her behaviour, but it seemed to her that he was just as fidgety.

She was about to ask him if he was okay, because the knee that kept bouncing and the fingers opening and closing on the steering wheel were obvious nervous tics, when he did the eye thing again, this time leaning forward over the dashboard as well, and the sharp turn he took to the right caused her to shift in her seat so much that she bumped her shoulder against his.

Cassian grimaced, "I'm sorry," he murmured.

"What's wrong?" she asked, readjusting in her seat.

"Sorry?"

"What's the matter? With your eyes, I mean."

"Oh." he seemed surprised by the question, almost as if he hadn't realised she'd been observing him for the last twenty minutes. He cast her a curious glance immediately returning to the road. "I wear glasses when I drive, but I couldn't find them this morning and these contacts are the wrong shade and I can't see very well."

Nesta nodded thoughtfully, "Where do you normally keep them?"

"In the glove box. But I already checked," he replied, rolling his shoulders. Another nervous tic.

Nesta had to suppress a smile. There was no way he could be so worked up just because they were talking. She looked down at the phone in her hand to check the time, and a flash of light momentarily dazzled her. She blinked a couple of times and then scoffed, "Found them."

She reached a hand towards the hatch compartment and pulled out a pair of very plain black glasses, handing them to him. Cassian seemed to finally relax since she'd gotten into the car.

"Thank fuck." then he pulled into a lay-by and without turning off the car, slipped two fingers in his eye, removing one contact and then the other, leaving Nesta stunned. He put the glasses on his nose and flashed her a smile that went from ear to ear. And Nesta was stunned for other reasons.

She couldn't deny that Cassian was an attractive man. She wasn't stupid or blind, but the man next to her should have come with a warning sign or a bell.

Attention, hot stuff coming your way.

Nesta forgot the comment she had wanted to make about how antigenic and risky it had been to remove his contacts without first cleaning his hands and in such a dirty environment.

His hair tied back in a messy bun, with the hint of a beard he was letting grow, and now his glasses on, Cassian looked like a model on the cover of a newspaper about sexy carpenters. The short-sleeved black shirt he wore that pulled on his huge biceps every time he moved in the slightest was just one more point to add to the list of things that made him appealing.

"So," he began, getting back on the road, "what's your favourite colour?"

Nesta snorted, "Are you serious?"

Cassian seemed to blanch, "What?"

"Have you ever been out with a girl?" she asked him sarcastically, knowing full well what the answer would be.

He clenched his jaw so hard that a muscle popped out on his face, "Only on dates."

"And this isn't a date." pointed out Nesta, holding back a laugh at how tortured he sounded.

"It's not."

Nesta touched the tip of her nose, thoughtful, "Shouldn't this be easier for you then?"

Cassian released a breath through his nose, "I'm under a lot of pressure right now."

"Yeah?" she asked, looking away and smiling.

"Yeah, and stop looking like you're enjoying it." he retorted.

She feigned innocence, "Enjoying what?"

"My pain." he sheeted.

Nesta laughed, unable to contain herself any longer and when he glared at her, she covered her mouth with one hand, laughing harder. Only when he snapped his fingers against the steering wheel did she stop, laying a hand on his arm, just for a few seconds, "I'm so sorry." she wheezed, "I just don't understand. When you're hanging out with my sisters or Amren, or Mor, I don't know, you don't seem to be in this much discomfort."

Cassian sighed again and Nesta chuckled one last time, stopping when he smiled slightly. "I'm just trying not to make you uncomfortable. You accepted I take you on this non-date, and I'm doing my best not to flirt badly with you every chance I get." he confessed, nodding slowly, as if to convince himself that he was doing the right thing and not wasting their time.

Nesta was genuinely surprised at his answer and decided to offer him an olive branch.

"My favourite colour is blue."

"Nice." he smiled, showing a hint of a dimple, "Mine is red."

"It's too bright of a colour," she said lightheartedly.

Cassian chuckled, "I'm pretty sure it reflects my peppy personality."

Nesta nodded, "I read an article once about how a person's favourite colour says a lot about the person themselves," she said annoyed, "It sounded like one of those quizzes you find in gossip magazines, like it was written by a third grader. I hate those things, like horoscopes."

He grunted, "God, Mor's obsessed with horoscopes..."

The conversation continued without any more awkward silences for the remainder of the ride, and when Cassian turned onto a bumpy road, Nesta knew they were close. Of course, even if she hadn't looked at the directions from her house to the place, the myriad cars parked along the road would have been an indication.

They parked in the first vacant spot they could find and as soon as Nesta was out of the car, an icy gust of wind hit her face, making her shiver with cold. She looked over the bonnet at Cassian and found him staring at her with a half smile on his face. He'd left his glasses in the car and had let his hair down again, her hair band on his wrist, and he looked even prettier than before.

"Do you want my jacket?" he asked her, with a conflicted look on his face, as if he didn't want to. Nesta narrowed her brows and he hurried to add, "There's no hidden agenda to my offer, just a friend lending a jacket to another friend."

Nesta watched him for a moment, trying to really understand his intentions, but then remembered reading in one of the reviews that the library was heated inside and shook her head.

Cassian gave a small nod of assent and then pointed down the street, "Shall we?"

From where they had parked to the library it would have been about a ten minute walk and Nesta couldn't help but notice the way Cassian kept his distance between them as if he was afraid she would get scared and run away.

He was back to fidgeting nervously with his fingers and when he realised she was looking at him, he put them in his pockets, smiling tensely at her. He took a deep breath and then said, "So, what do you know about this library?"

Nesta looked ahead, hoping to catch a glimpse of the building, but the foliage of the trees was still too thick and they were still too far away for it to see anything. She brought her hands to her stomach, crossing her fingers, "I actually did a bit of research before I came. Did you know that the Peace Treaty between Prythian and Hybern of 1864 was signed here?" she asked in an excited voice.

Cassian smiled at her so naturally that she felt herself blush. He had an expression she couldn't decipher, but Nesta had never been good at cracking people in general, so she didn't venture to continue until he said, "Tell me more."

And Nesta launched into a detailed description of the events that had taken place inside the building, which only a hundred years before had become a bookstore. Only one wing of the building had been furnished in such a way as to become a real shop, the rest had been set up to be visited as a museum, one of the oldest libraries. She talked about the architecture and how it was obvious that the palace had been built long before it became an important meeting place for scholars and researchers.

"And in 1932 a fire destroyed the science wing, burning more than a hundred textbooks." Nesta sighed, thinking how devastating that loss had been. She lit up with happiness when she remembered what happened next. "But luckily, one of the most important literary clubs in the city got together and they managed to recover a small portion of the books. It took them years to rewrite every manual, but they got help from one of the local researchers, a certain Mr. Hawthorn, I can't remember the name or details of the research, only that he's mentioned often in the article I read."

When she paused to catch her breath, Nesta realised with immense horror what had just happened. Cassian had not spoken a word after asking her if she knew anything about the place and she had monopolised the conversation without even acknowledging him once. She felt herself flare up and knew in that moment that any hope they had of becoming real friends was gone.

Sometimes she would get lost in thought and ramble on about the things she was passionate about. Quite often people had stopped her, letting her know they weren't interested in the subject, but Cassian had never interrupted her and she was afraid to look at him, convinced she would only find boredom and disgust on his face.

That was why, when he spoke, she was struck dumb.

"I'm impressed." he breathed, chuckling immediately afterwards.

Nesta pushed herself to look at him and he stood admiring her with his mouth slightly open, as if he couldn't find the words. She felt her heart clench in her chest so tightly that she didn't know if she could survive the pain. Who knows how many times he'd tried to stop her and she'd gone on and on about windows and arches and treaties of peace.

But when she got a better look at him, stopping in front of him, Cassian looked... happy.

He let out a laugh, running a hand through his hair, and Nesta was distracted for a moment by the sway of his arms before she was brought violently back down to earth when he said, "You surprise me more and more every time, Nesta."

And the way he said her name - Ne-sta - made her toes curl.

"Why?" she managed to throw out in a weak voice.

Cassian laughed again, raising his eyebrows so high they ended under the hair on his forehead, locking his eyes to hers. "I have a degree in history and my final thesis happened to be on this very library." Nesta felt the ground open up beneath her feet and hoped it swallowed her alive. "I came out of university with top marks and various accolades for finishing my studies on time and you, dreadful creature that you are, have just taught me at least three new things about this place."

His gaze was so intense that Nesta had to lower her head to hide the satisfied and surprised smirk that popped up on her lips.

"You're amazing." huffed Cassian, "Perfect in every way."

She shrugged.

"Although," he clicked his tongue against his palate, "You made a mistake."

Nesta looked up at him, frowning, "Oh, yeah?"

Cassian nodded, smirking fiercely, "Why don't you turn around and admire the palace, and once we're inside, I'll explain what it is?"

She must have been so lost in her chatter that she hadn't noticed that they had arrived in the large entrance forecourt, because when she turned, her back to Cassian, the building stood among the forest trees, as imposing and splendid as ever. The photos had not done it justice in the slightest and Nesta was left speechless.

Living in a country with a history going back millennia, it wasn't hard to stumble upon historic streets with old buildings and monuments, but this was completely different.

She was still admiring the way the stone around the windows had been carved to look like trees trying to get into the building when she felt something settle on the small of her back. A hand.

Nesta stiffened slightly, before closing her eyes and relaxing.

Cassian must have noticed her discomfort because a moment later his hand was no longer touching her.

They entered the museum part of the building in silence and Nesta paid the entrance fees, reminding him of the tea he'd offered her last Sunday and Cassian hadn't been able to argue with that.

They had just passed the doors to the first room, the smallest in the entire palace, when he leaned towards her, to the point of touching her ear with his lips.

The fact that he was whispering as if they had been in a sacred place did things to her little icy heart, "Mr. Hawthorn was not a man."

Shocked by that information, Nesta's head snapped in his direction and she realised too late that she had miscalculated the space.

Her lips brushed against his cheek, the corner of his lips, before Cassian reacted so quickly he startled her, but avoiding them both an involuntary first kiss. His sudden movement caused him to lose his balance and he reached out his hands towards her, straightening as he held on to her shoulders.

Both of them were holding their breath.

Cassian cleared his throat, shifting his gaze to the wall of books, but returning to look at her soon after, "I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry, you just surprised me," she said when she had recovered. "I must have read the article wrong."

He was still watching her and shook his head, "Oh no, I don't think it's that. They only found out a few months ago that it was Georgina and not George Hawthorn. They found letters in the house of what was thought to be Hawthorn's wife. Some people think they were just friends, but anyone who has read the letters they exchanged knows full well that they were lovers. Anyone who says otherwise is either homophobic or stupid."

Nesta realised that she could have listened to this for hours on end. And so it was.

The visit continued relatively quietly, Cassian explaining every detail to her, expanding on things she already knew and when he forgot something, she would step in and have her say, commenting on every little aspect.

She'd noticed how Cassian hadn't tried to touch her anymore and how whenever someone was about to bump into her, he'd vocally warn her instead of wrapping an arm around her shoulders to move her out of their way like he had on Sunday.

The visit to the museum lasted less than expected unfortunately, because Nesta hadn't had this much fun in too long. It was becoming easier to smile at him or tease him when he said dumb things and even he seemed to finally be more at ease when he had to make jokes that smacked of him.

When they finally got to the shop, Nesta couldn't stand on her feet anymore, she just wanted to buy all the books she saw and go home and arrange them on her shelves.

"Which section do you want to see first?" she asked him, even though she had started hopping impatiently about the place.

Cassian gave her a smug look, "Why don't you go wherever you want and I'll look for the manuals for the gazebo in the meantime? That way you don't waste time keeping up with me. I'll be right there."

Nesta let out an excited squeal and ran off, hearing only the echo of laughter that shook Cassian from head to toe.

***

As Cassian flipped through the various books to find a picture of a gazebo that looked similar to the one Feyre had requested, he kept casting glances at Nesta.

Her eyes sparkled as she grabbed book after book without even reading the synopses. She was in the romance novels section, from what he could see from where he stood, but soon ended up in the classics, where she grabbed just as many books. She moved to the mystery books section, this time stopping to read the plots and putting most of them back on the shelves.

Then, surprising Cassian, she walked over to where the historical novels were and turned to face him. He bent his head to the side, raising an eyebrow to ask her what she was doing there. Nesta seemed at a loss, trying to move all the books from one arm to the other to point him to join her, but Cassian was already halfway there and when she looked back up at him and found him standing in front of her, she gave him a bright smile.

"Hello." she exclaimed.

Cassian's breath caught for a second before he too sighed a greeting.

"I was thinking," Nesta began, running her eyes over the titles in front of them, "that you could recommend something about..." she wiggled her fingers as much as she could, trying to point to the shelf, and Cassian leaned forward, cursing himself for not thinking of it sooner.

"Here," he removed the first stack of books from her arms and she sagged a little, giving him a thankful look. "I can go get a bag so you can put them all in there and you don't have to carry them like this," he said taking all the books and having her help him arrange them so they wouldn't fall out.

He smiled at her over all the books, looking down at her and she smiled back just as happily.

Hell, if she looked at him like that every time he took her to a bookstore he should do it more often.

He had just turned to go towards the entrance, where he had seen special bags for carrying books, but Nesta stopped him by putting a hand on his arm.

"Wait!" she exclaimed almost impishly.

Cassian turned his head, genuinely worried that something had happened to her in the mere seconds he had been shot. He must have moved too fast, because one of the smaller classics flew off the top of the stack and landed right in her face.

Nesta groaned at the impact and brought her hands to her face, rubbing her forehead where it hurt.

"Oh my God, are you okay?!" he asked with wide eyes. And then Nesta laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she stared at him and he visibly relaxed. "Christ, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to throw a book at you."

She waved a hand in mid-air, to let him know it was nothing, and bent down to pick up what he realised was A Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Of course Nesta was reading feminist classics.

She turned back to the books as if nothing had happened and Cassian had the urge to look for a list of all the bookstores in the world to take her to if it meant having her in such a good mood by his side, it didn't matter if she would never agree to go on a real date with him, he realised. As long as he could see her smile like that, he didn't need anything else.

"So, I was saying, before you battered me with a book-" she cast an amused glance over one shoulder at him.

He frowned, muttering, "I said sorry."

Nesta ignored him, "What do you recommend?"

Cassian blinked.

"You said you read historical novels right?" she asked, looking for confirmation, "You could recommend your favourites. But not the English or Russian classics. Or French ones. Chances are I've already read those."

Cassian was stunned. Nesta wanted advice on books. From him.

They were silent for too long as she turned around impatiently, "You lied?"

He looked surprised, "When?"

"When you said you were reading. Were you just doing it to impress me or were you serious?" she asked and maybe Cassian imagined it, but she looked disappointed.

He was quick to reply, "The Black Coat, by Neamat Imam. It's pretty recent, but set in the 1970s in Bangladesh. It's about a man who needs help and seeks it from a journalist he asks for work and one of the main themes is the famine that hit the country after it became independent. It's not my absolute favourite, but it certainly gives you something to think about."

Nesta nodded, searching through the titles and finding it almost immediately, "Anything else?"

Cassian felt his neck heat up and coughed a little before resuming speaking. "The Long Ships by Frans G. Bengtsson. Set in the tenth century, it's about a Viking who is called Red because of his hair and focuses on the European political outlook in the late Viking Age. Again, it's not as good as the historical classics, but it's nice and shows a way of life that we're definitely not used to. It's different."

After looking for a few minutes, Nesta gave up reading and turned to him, crossing her arms. She tilted her head to the side, watching him closely, "What's your favourite book?"

Cassian shrugged, settling the books against his chest, "I think at the moment it's The King Must Die by Mary Renault. But I change my mind every month when I find something more interesting or captivating."

She nodded thoughtfully, "I'll take that one then."

And Cassian wished he could change the title immediately because... what if she didn't like it? Or if she thought it was a stupid book? What would she think of him then?

But Nesta had already found a copy a few shelves down and there was no turning back.

He could counterattack, though, "What about yours? You're not going to give me any advice on feminist classics or blatantly trashy romance novels?"

Nesta opened her mouth wide, looking outraged as she placed the latest addition on the pile, settling the book under her chin, "How can you say they're trashy if you don't even know what they're about?"

Cassian chuckled, "On the cover of You Came," he said as he gave her a sly look, "there's something called a 'spicymeter'. How am I supposed to take you seriously?"

Nesta blushed, "I read erotic novels, so what? I have to keep myself busy in my spare time somehow."

And then he challenged her, "Get me the hottest book you've ever read," he said in a joking tone, "I'll go get the bag in the meantime."

She had already left for the section when he had an idea that would surely doom him depending on how Nesta would react.

He walked up to the cashier's desk, making sure she didn't notice, and begging the clerk behind the counter to be quick, paid for all her books, gently placing them back in the bags.

When he reached her again, she seemed not to have noticed anything.

"'So, what did you get me? Ride Me? Fucked You Good? Last Night I Gave You A Thousand Orgasms?" he teased her with an annoyed grin on his lips.

Nesta gave him a fiery glance before noticing the bags, quite different from those you put the things you wanna buy in, and closed her mouth tightly. She frowned and looked at them for so long before speaking that Cassian began to feel self-conscious.

"You paid for my books?" she whispered, looking at him.

He nodded.

"It's not a date, Cassian," she reminded him for the umpteenth time.

"I know, but-"

"So why would you pay for things that are mine?"

He couldn't read her. She wasn't hinting at anything.

She didn't look angry but she didn't look impressed or grateful either.

Cassian placed the bags on the ground between them and Nesta followed his every movement with her eyes.

He ran a hand through his hair, sighing, "My adoptive family is filthy rich. I have a trust fund that I never get to spend on things I really want to do, the only way I get to use it is by giving gifts to my friends, so just accept these as my first gift - friend to friend - and call it a day."

Nesta continued to be impassive as she kept her eyes fixed on the books.

Perhaps he had gone too far. After all, she had taken more than a hundred and fifty euros worth of stuff, but he really didn't mind.

He was about to apologise, tell her she could give the money back if it made her feel better. Cassian would find a way to spend it back on her at other times anyway.

Then she raised her head, handing him two books with hilarious covers to say the least, "These two have storylines full of plot twists. You won't be able to put them down, but don't expect big epic battles or Viking warriors. It's just two college kids trying to survive in the modern world while finding solace in each other."

He didn't even have time to thank her that she was already across the room and waiting in line so she could pay them.

He scoffed, shaking his head.

"I guess you'll be paying for these two," he said as he caught up with her.

Nesta didn't even look at him, pulling out her wallet, "A gift from a friend to a friend."

As they walked back to the car, Cassian offered to carry the bags, but she didn't want to hear one more word so they had managed to compromise and had split the load equally.

They'd been on the road for about thirty minutes now and Nesta had gone through every book he'd bought her, talking about all the previous works by the authors she was holding in her hand at the moment.

Cassian could have died like that. Happy, relaxed, listening to the plots of those dirty books with no moral lessons to teach the reader, just pure entertainment.

He wondered at that moment if he would make it through the first few chapters of the books she had offered him and let out a heavy breath through his nose as he turned right towards the coast.

Nesta looked at him wide-eyed, stopping her rant about the headmaster's son getting the occasional model student to fall in love with him. She brought a hand to her mouth, "Oh dear, sorry, I'm boring you. I'm sorry."

He gave her a confused look ready to tell her she didn't have to apologise, but she continued.

"Sometimes I do and I don't even realize it. And I realize they're not challenging plots where you have to apply some hidden lobe of the brain to understand them, but they distract me from everyday problems, you know? It's fun to be able to unplug a few hours after I get home from work and-"

"Jesus, Nesta, stop!" he laughed, placing a hand on her thigh. She sighed. "You don't have to apologise. Not when you're so excited about something." he looked at her slyly, offering her a reassuring smile, "In fact, I'm glad you're talking so much today. Normally I have to pull the words out of your mouth."

She blushed slightly and then grew sullen soon after, sitting up straighter, "This isn't the way to Velaris, where are we going?"

Cassian didn't answer.

"You're taking me into the woods aren't you?"

"We literally just came out of a forest."

She ignored him.

"I knew it. You're a serial killer."

"Nes-"

"You're a little dense though. Why would you spend so much on someone if you're going to murder them?"

He decided to ignore her, chuckling, "I'm taking you to the beach."

"Why?" she asked, somewhat unconvinced.

Cassian shrugged, "I wanted to see the sunset."

"You didn't ask."

He sighed, gripping the steering wheel, "Okay," he whispered, then louder, "You want to go to the beach and watch the sunset?"

She nodded in assent and then continued to read the plots aloud.

And Cassian could have sworn he was in heaven.

***

Nesta gathered more sand, making a small ball out of it and placing it on the top of one of the towers she had made so far.

"Where did you learn to make such good sandcastles?" asked Cassian suddenly from behind her, startling her.

She jumped in the air, turning to face him and noticing the satisfied smile on his face for having taken her by surprise.

Nesta didn't answer him immediately, but allowed herself to admire him a bit.

Since they had arrived at the beach, they had taken off their shoes and were now both barefoot and then Cassian had bent down and started to roll his trousers around his ankles, offering to do it to her jeans as well, but Nesta had refused. She had sat down, looking at the sea for a while, while he walked along the shore and collected stones and shells.

When he had come back to her and shown them to her, asking her to make a sandcastle, she had laughed at first, but faced with his serious expression, she had been unable to do anything but get up and roll up her sleeves, moving to where the sand was a little more workable.

She looked away from that heavenly vision and made another ball, placing it next to the one she had just made. "When I was little my mum never let me do these, she said I'd get too much sun and forced me and Elain to stay under the umbrella all day," she replied truthfully, remembering the cruel bite of jealousy watching the children on the shore.

"And Feyre?"

Cassian had joined her, kneeling beside her and had begun to place the shells so that they served as windows to the towers.

Nesta sighed, "Feyre was still too little when Mini Me wanted to build sandcastles, but as soon as I became 'too old to play like a kid'," she gave him a knowing look, mimicking her mother's voice, "and Feyre started to figure out she was an actual being, Mama let her do whatever she wanted. Even stand in the sun for hours on end." she shrugged. "Whether it was out of indifference or love, I never understood."

Cassian had been silent the whole time and now he watched her, hands on his thighs as he waited for her to give him more. For her to tell him another little piece of her soul.

So she offered him a forced smile, "So to answer your question, it's all pent-up creativity."

"Well, you're very good at it," he granted her. "I can imagine what you could have done if your mother hadn't been so strict."

Well, yeah.

"What about you?" she asked him.

"What about me?"

"Did you go to the beach a lot?"

Cassian smiled weakly, getting up and heading towards the water to collect more shells. He nodded a couple of times and then said, "My mum and I loved coming to the beach and she loved making castles. And she always put so many 'windows' on the towers-"

Nesta turned to look at their work, realising how many shells he had placed on the piles of sand. She smiled softly, covering her eyes from the sun and watching him walk towards her.

"We always came when she was free from work."

A charged silence settled between them until Cassian chuckled, drawing her attention, "What?"

"You said this wasn't a date. And that we're just friends. Right?"

Shifting her gaze to him, she noticed how he kept his hands hidden behind his back and the mischievous glint in his eyes didn't reassure her at all. Slowly she stood up, nodding.

"So, I must treat you as I would treat my friends. Correct?"

"Cassian, I swear to god that-"

She didn't have time to finish her sentence that something wet and sticky landed in her face with a resounding splash, making her jump back.

She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it when a strong smell of stale water and seaweed flooded her nostrils.

When she opened her eyes again, wiping the seaweed from her face, Cassian was doubled over in laughter.

She didn't even give him time to get up when she started to run towards him - to do what, she had no idea - but he started to run away too and soon they were chasing each other all around the beach, not noticing the sweet looks they were getting from the people around them.

At that moment, Nesta was running so fast that she could feel the wind in her hair and the smell and sound of the sea, together with the laughter of the man who was chasing her, mixed with her own and the continuous tapping of her feet on the sand, made her feel alive.

She felt Cassian come closer every few metres until two strong arms wrapped around her waist and she was pulled up and spun around in the air.

A surprised yelp escaped her as Cassian laughed in her ear, "Gotcha!"

It wasn't until he stopped spinning with her in his arms that they realised the position they were in and immediately broke away, laughing embarrassed.

Nesta turned to face him, her face red from running and her breathing laboured. He was in no better condition. His hair was pointing in all directions and his sculpted chest was rising and falling with haste under the black fabric of his shirt.

He looked away first, scratching the back of his neck and fixing his eyes on the sunset, and offered her his arm as they returned to where they had left theirs things unattended.

Nesta shook her head, laughing one last time and started to run, " Last to reach the castle is stupid!"

Cassian burst out laughing, but he caught up to her in the blink of an eye and they both knew that she had doomed herself to lose. That's why, when he fell tripping over his feet, Nesta knew he had done it on purpose.

She helped him up and they sat back as in silence they watched the sun go down, disappearing past the horizon and the blending lights of the sky created a breathtaking spectacle.

Nesta couldn't have noticed, too busy admiring the clouds, but Cassian had been watching her the whole time, trying to understand how something as sombre and secretive as her could look so bright just by being.

The journey back was silent, but this time the silence was not awkward. They both welcomed it with open arms, a new awareness that there was no need for it to be filled with chatter and that gave Nesta the opportunity to close her eyes for a moment and doze off.

When the car stopped outside her flat, Nesta was surprised to find that she didn't want to get out.

She turned to Cassian after she had gathered her things and nodded, "I had fun today."

He gave her a genuine smile, looking surprised, "Me too."

And then she permanently shocked him, adding, "I'm not working on Saturday, we could do it again. Changing location."

He blinked once. Twice. Then he nodded, "Sure."

He didn't seem to want to say anything more, so Nesta waved goodbye to him and then got out, not waiting for an answer from him.

Cassian stood motionless in the car park of her flat for another half hour, trying to figure out what had just happened, and when the reality of things finally dawned on him, he smiled, "Fuck yeah."

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added or removed just dm me or send me an ask)

@sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien-of-nargothrond @ireallyshouldsleeprn @messyhairday-me @ncssian @observationanxioustheorist @my-fan-side @booksstorm @maastrash @sayosdreams @thedarkdemigod @courtofjurdan @thewayshedreamed @hellasblessed @nahthanks @archeron-queens-blog @sleeping-and-books @bri-loves-sunflowers @thegoddessofyou @ghostlyrose2 @claralady @queenestarcheron @oop-theregoesgravity @firebirdofscythia @anne-reads @fantastypenguins @laylaameer01 @thalia-2-rose @darkshadowqueensrule @bookstantrash @lanyjoy-13 @the-regal-warrior @lordof-bloodshed @dealingdifferentdevils @swankii-art-teacher @rowaelinismyotp

[ashintheairlikesnow]

I really wanna know what happened during the painful bath that Nanda promised Jameson a while back. Baths in whump have the potential to be so soothing and excruciating at the same time, which kinda fits Jameson’s whole character don’t you think?

CW: Pet whump, dehumanizing language, intimate whumper, dubcon touch NSFW (not explicit), implied dubcon (fade to black), referenced blood and whipping, sadistic whumper, creepy whumper, creepy comfort, drowning, talk of sui (to escape torture), implied death by drowning (unnamed oc)

r/LetsTalkTrueCrime

NEW VIDEOS of the Box Boy Killer! Never Before Seen!

•Posted by u/oshaycanyousee 14h ago

So I got a really good response to my short series on the mysterious Box Boy Serial Killer (you can find my previous write-ups here, here, and here).

Well, recently I discovered something entirely new that I think you'd enjoy getting a look at! Found among personal items belonging to Nathaniel "Nanda" Matthew Benson: a medium-sized external hard drive containing nearly 750GB of photo and video content.

The hard drive was labeled 'Personal'. Police stated there was a second hard drive labeled 'Professional', but what content was on there, if anything, has never been released.

Technically, neither has this. Someone from within the police department leaked a bunch of videos and photos at some point, and I was able to get ahold of them thanks to a friend of a friend (who shall go unnamed, don't want to tip off whatever FBI agent is watching his internet activity, haha... or is it her or their internet activity... FBI Agent will never know.)

In my writeup on Nanda Benson's life with his Boxie, I didn't have a ton of details on how they interacted with each other. Finding this trove of info definitely changed a few things on how I view their relationship.

Take a look and let me know if it makes you maybe reconsider a few details, too. FYI: This does have nudity and some spicy times! Nothing worse than you've seen on HBO or whatever, but like, fair warning.

[Embedded Video Player With Title: Bathtime With Boxie: NSFW and Yet Somehow Still Oddly Wholesome Kind Of]

The video begins with the tub already filled with water, hot enough to gently steam. It's a gigantic soaker tub, large enough for four people to easily sit without crowding, nestled alongside a window in a truly enormous, incredibly well-lit bathroom. Everything is in shades of white, which makes the person in the frame even more immediately the enter of attention.

A young man with short, shaggy brown hair and dark eyes sits in the tub. He looks up, wrinkling his nose and glancing away. Only then does a bright red mark, darkening already to a bruise become obvious on one side of his neck.

"Don't fucking tape this," He says. His voice is slightly rough-edged, as if he's been screaming, and he sounds exhausted. "That's weird. Not taping the fucking but taping the after bit."

Red welts are visible above the line of water, marking his shoulders and arms. The welts are a deep red that is nearly purple - they are surrounded by bright red irritated flesh.

"Oh, but I like you like this." The voice holding the camera is deep and amused. The camera wobbles slightly and then settles, and soon enough a second man enters the screen. It's clearly Nanda Benson himself, stark naked.

Where the Boxie is heavily bruised and beaten, Nanda himself would be spotless if he weren’t flecked with drying red spots that are clearly the pet's blood.

"Yeah, well." The pet shifts to the side as Nanda steps in, hissing softly in contentment at the sudden burst of heat when he enters the water. He settles down against a bench set in to the side of the tub, and opens his arms.

The pet moves immediately into them, without hesitating. His eyes flicker nervously back to the camera and then away again.

"Yeah, well-... yeah well what, pet?" Nanda laughs as he pulls the Boxie into his lap, toying one hand already damp from the tub over the ring at the front of his collar. "Cat got your tongue after that fun we had together?"

"Tongue's the only thing you didn't take," The pet responds, almost playfully flirtatious. "I guess you'd miss it too fucking much."

"If I took your voice, who would call me a fucking idiot before I fuck him into the ground, hm?"

The pet flushes, looking down at the water, at the slightest pink of his blood still running into it. "Sir-"

"Ssssshhhh. I like you insulting me. I like punishing you for it more." Nanda mouths at the unmarked side of the pet's neck, pulling him back-to-chest where he sits, so he's facing the camera directly again. The pet's back arches when Nanda's teeth dig in, making a soft, high-pitched whine as his head drops back onto the man's shoulder.

The camera picks up the quiet splash of water as the pet tries to move away and is pulled roughly right back, catches the refracted sight of Nanda's hands on the pet's thighs forcing them apart, each of his calves on the outside of Nanda's thighs.

"Please-... H-hurts-"

"You love it," Nanda whispers, and bites down again, right into the crook of the pet's neck where it meets his shoulder. The cry this time is wild with a mix of pain and something darker, the pet's hands moving helplessly up and back to clasp just behind Nanda's head. His back is nearly a bow, every muscle trembling with a need to escape and to hold perfectly still, both at once.

When Nanda pulls back this time, the camera picks up the blood smeared on his teeth before he runs his tongue over them. It finds the light glinting off the fresh blood welling from the new bite along the pet's shoulder.

"It's too much," The pet says, struggling to sit back up straight, turning to look at Nanda. For a moment, his shaggy damp hair and angle hides his expression from the camera's gaze.

The twist of his spine, though, shows the bloodied whiplashes making their way up his back nearly to the nape of his neck.

"It's too much," The pet repeats, in a whisper. "Please. Please, it's too fucking much, if you fuck me again I'll fucking die. Please."

"Now, pet," Nanda teases, flirts shamelessly, running his wet hands through the pet's hair. He grips on tight and forces his head back again. The profile of the pet's face shows the slight bump of a broken nose healed almost perfectly, but not quite. The gasp he makes when Nanda's free hand presses over the welts on his chest is loud enough for the camera to catch. "You know you don't get to say when it's too much."

"You'll f-fucking kill me," The pet protests, voice tight from the angle forcing his collar to dig painfully into his throat. "Please, I... everything hurts so much..."

"You love the pain." Nanda's eyes look up to meet the camera before a more sinister smile finds its way across his face. "I know what you can take better than you do, pet, and I think you can handle one more. Sssshhh, here we go. There..." Nanda exhales softly as the two of them shift in the tub, the pet making a soft pained sound, his hips rolling as he is worked slowly down into position.

Then Nanda chuckles and slides his entire arm over the welts marking the pet's torso, holding him tightly in place. "Now take a deep breath."

"Wh-what?" The pet's eyes widen, comprehension coming a half-second too late. "Wait, don't-"

Nanda's hand gripped into the pet's hair plunges him forwards, bent at the waist, forcing the Box Boy's head suddenly under the water. The pet struggles desperate trying to get his head back up to breathe. Nanda grunts in a rhythm as his hips snap up and down again. He groans, "So fucking tight, goddamn I love you, you fucking slut for me-"

[/END VIDEO]

The video cuts off there, but my friend tells me the rest of it is basically the kind of stuff you have to pay a monthly fee for everywhere else on the internet.

But there's another video, from way later, that I find a really interesting contrast and comparison. Same friend got me this one. It involves Robert, whose write-up you can see right here.

[EMBEDDED VIDEO: Titled Holy Shit, No Wonder He Killed Him]

The screen is black for a few seconds, with the sound of someone taking the cap off a camera before things come into blurry view and then slowly into focus.

The bathroom in this video is tiny. It's barely large enough for everything in it, and a person sitting on the toilet will damn near bash their knees into the side of the bathtub. The grout in the tile floor is dark with old stains, and the tile itself needs either serious scrubbing or an exorcism.

Sitting naked in the bathtub is a young man with long blond hair that hangs in filthy, dirty clumps down to his shoulders. His face is streaked with mud and worse, and he has a black eye that has nearly swelled his left eye shut entirely. His hands are bound with rope stained brown with dried blood, held up in front of him.

His one good eye, maybe blue, follows with a kind of resigned terror the person behind the camera.

He sits in water up to his waist, but by the way he is shivering, it's clear that the water is not even warm, let alone hot. Further bruises mark his ribcage and his legs. One leg juts out in front, and something about it seems like it might be broken.

The camera is handheld, panning slowly from the young man's torn and lacerated heels and feet through his bruised leg - one swollen - and then back up to his face.

"Tell me your name." The voice is Robert Weber's.

The young man's mouth twists in a snarl that fades as quickly as it came and he looks away, to the side of the tub marked with deep soap scum. When Robert's house is searched, there are scratches in the tub as though someone had clawed that deeply into the sides in an attempt to escape. "It's..." The young man inhales, winces at the pain. "It's twe-... Twenty-One. M-My name is... Twenty-One."

"Good. And-... what did we practice saying next?"

The man's jaw trembles visibly onscreen. Then he says, flat and numb, "My name is Twenty-One and I have... two weeks to l-live."

"Perfect. Now I promised you a good scrubbing if you played along downstairs-" The young man flinches, closing his good eye and curling up in the tub as best he can. "-and I will keep that promise." There's a pause, jostling as the camera is slotted into a tripod to continue filming. Then, Robert's voice is suddenly deafening. "Dog! Get the fuck in here!"

The door opens with the creak of hinges deeply in need of oiling, and then the Boxie moves into view. He's skinny, malnourished and underfed, and his hair is roughly cut short in uneven hunks. He has bald spots worn in by the muzzle that is buckled over his mouth, making his breathing an audible rasp. He glares with unhidden hatred.

"Give Twenty-One a bath," Robert says, and his hand moves into view as he pats the Boxie on the head. The Boxie flinches but then forces himself to hold still, closing his eyes as the pat turns into prolonged petting. His muzzle is unbuckled and then removed. Robert's fingers drift over his bald spots, play along the red marks pressed into his skin by the muzzle, move over a scar cut into one side of his mouth that wasn't there in the video with Nanda.

The Boxie is naked but for an old dog collar around his neck.

Robert hums, disappears entirely from view. The door opens and closes again. The sound of a lock clicks.

The Boxie looks at the young man in the bathtub, who doesn't look up. "Fuck this shit," The Boxie mumbles, but he moves - dragging one of his legs a little, and there are ropes tied around his ankles that ensure he can do little more than shuffle - and finally kneels next to the tub. "Are you going to be a shit?"

The young man looks at him with surprise. "You... I've never heard you talk before," He whispers, looking fearfully to the side towards the door.

"You've never seen me without the fucking muzzle before, either," The pet replies. His voice is far rougher than the first video, suggesting long-term damage to his vocal chords. "I asked you something. Are you going to fight me and be a shit about this or no?"

The young man hesitates, then shakes his head. "I couldn't fight if I wanted to anymore," He says, like a man confessing a sin. "It all hurts too much. You know? I had a girlfriend-"

"Stop it." The pet cuts him off and leans over, picking up a stiff washcloth and soaking it in the water until it's soft enough to use again, running it over the young man's shoulders. For all the edge of meanness in his voice, the pet's touch is clearly gentle. "You're going to fucking die here, better if you don't talk about stuff that gets you fucked up first. Forget her."

The young man leans over to give easier access to his back. The soft whimpers he makes show that there must be some grievous injuries back there that the camera can't see. "I-I know I will. Die, I mean. Do I really have-... is it really two weeks?"

"Yeah." The pet takes a bar of soap and runs it over his own hands, rubbing them together to work up a lather. The soap found in Robert Weber's house after his death is Irish Spring and Dove - it is believed he used different soap for different captives according to his own odd whims. "He's put little heart shapes on a calendar he marks off. He'll hurt you a little worse every fucking day and then make you beg for him to end it."

The young man slowly nods, looking at his bound wrists. There's a soft sniff, but he seems too tired for tears. "There's no chance of getting away, is there."

It's not really a question.

The pet answers anyway.

"You're the twenty-first, and none of the others have. What do you think?"

"I-I can't do this."

"You have to." The pet gets a red Solo cup sitting on the side of the tub, fills it with water, and pours it down the young man's back. He hisses and cries out softly in pain. "He doesn't exactly ask your goddamn preferences."

"Help me escape," The young man pleads. "Help me get out of here."

"I'm fucking hobbled," the pet snaps. "He'll be on us both before we even made it out of the hallway. You think I'm fucking stupid? I'm the only one who might not die if I stay good. Come on, lean forward so I can wash your hair."

The young man moves to obey, hands disappearing beneath the filthy bathwater, and then he turns, looking over his shoulder. He and the pet share a long, silent moment. Then he leans over far enough to put his mouth nearly to the pet's ear and whispers something so low that the camera doesn't pick up the words.

The pet inhales sharply.

He looks at the door, and then back to the young man.

"Are you sure?" He asks, and the edge is totally gone from his voice, now.

The young man nods, slowly. "Please," he says, a little louder. "If I have to-... please. Not him. I-I know you'll get punished, but... please. God, please, just this one thing." His hands come back up to grip onto the pet's hand where it lays along the side of the tub.

The young man leans forwards, and his forehead gently rests against the pet's. They are silent for a long moment.

"Please, don't let him be the one to kill me," The young man says. "I know I'm g-going to die, but... let me take that a-... away from him. Please. God, I don't even know your name, but-... please."

The pet swallows, then nods, tipping his head back to press a kiss to the young man's forehead. "I don't have a name. What's your name? I'll remember it. Your real name."

The young man's throat bobs and he whispers into the pet's ear again.

He sits back up, leaning over until some of his long hair falls into the water. "I'm-... I'm ready."

The pet takes a deep, deep breath, moves up to kneeling with his thighs vertical, lays both hands on the back of the young man's head, and says, "I hope it's better, wherever you go."

Then he pushes the young man's head underneath the water.

[/END VIDEO]

According to my friend, there's more to that video as well, but obviously it's been cut to take out the end of the poor guy. Now, my friend swears up and down the pet is crying at the end of the video, that he can see tears, but I'm not sure.

That doesn't really line up with the pet killing people before this, you know?

But one thing it does prove is that the Boxie knows the name of one of the unidentified victims. If he could be found, we could give that man back his name and get his family the closure they deserve.

I know some of you argued with me last time that the Boxie is clearly a VICTIM and not a PERPETRATOR, and I definitely admit this second video maybe suggests you're on to something there.

But I still think we have a Boxie killer on our hands here - I just think maybe I was wrong about why he's killing them at all.

I guess we'll find out if he kills again.

-

@astrobly @finder-of-rings @whump-tr0pes @raigash @eatyourdamnpears @orchidscript @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @boxboysandotherwhump @outofangband @whumptywhumpdump @thehopelessopus @downriver914 @justabitofwhump @butwhatifyouwrite @newandfiguringitout @yet-another-heathen @nonsensical-whump @oops-its-whump @endless-whump @cubeswhump @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @whumpiary @burtlederp

​

[slytherinnbitch]

Day 26: Accident

when harry woke up in a hospital bed for the millionth time, his first thought was hermione is going to kill me. and it was true because hermione had threatened to do exactly that if he landed himself in the hospital yet again. 

but when he finally opened his eyes, there’s no red or bushy brown hair in sight. just the pale blond one which belonged to the prat he hated the most. Draco Fucking Malfoy. and for some reason he looked relieved to see Harry. that couldn’t possibly be right. because draco hated harry with passion and he would have been happy if he died-

“Merlin, Harry, gave me a right scare. can’t you play one game without getting injured or is that too fucking much for you?” draco asked, and while the words and the tone of his voice were in perfect contradiction; one thing was clear. Malfoy was concerned about Harry. but that was something he would focus upon on some another moment when his mind wasn’t full of some half a billion questions. starting with what in merlin’s name was malfoy doing here?

“Malfoy, what the fuck are you doing here? he asked, annoyance clear in his voice. and because he couldn’t help himself he asked the other question which was burning a hole in his brain, “what game are you talking about?”

as far as harry was concerned, he had last played in hogwarts, although he did still participate in some of the impromptu Weasley weekly sunday matches but he doesn’t think Draco knew about that. harry’s words seemed to stop malfoy in his tracks. he frowned at harry, then he stared into his eyes for a long time before harry looked away. 

“uhm, okay. Ha-Potter, could you tell me what year this is?” malfoy asked, did he really think harry to be so dumbheaded that he would forget the year. 

“malfoy, do you really be asking me that? don’t you have better work to do? or did your small brain forget the date?” harry scoffed. malfoy was undetered, he asked harry the same question again, as if he hadn’t even heard harry’s words.

“ugh, you’re so annoying. its January 2001, unless i was unconsious for more than two weeks, then it would be february 2001.” harry replied, and the fuck was he alone? that too with malfoy to keep him company. he was about to ask just that when malfoy said-

“i’ll contact hermione and ron. just- sit here and try not to break anything or get out of bed.”

“and who would you be to comand me that?” harry challenged, like seriously what right did the poncy git have?

“as your appointed healer, if nothing else.” malfoy replied before leaving his private hospital room. 

.

"okay so it's 2011 and I have somehow forgotten ten years of my life. So what's up with me right now then? Senior Auror? Please don't tell me I went for Minister!" Harry tried to joke, it wouldn't do good to panic now afterall. "and however did I end up here? Malfoy mentioned something of a game?"

Ron and Hermione share a look. Harry always hated when they did that, especially after they got together.

"and why did you both allow Malfoy to be my healer? What were you both even thinking?" he added because he can't help but feel slightly betrayed by his friends. Malfoy entered at that exact moment, nosy git that he is, can't let people have some privacy.

"so does he know then? Doesn't look like it," Malfoy claimed, and Harry wanted to strangle him because he was aware that the he was him.

"harry was just asking about his job, and ... other prospects of life." Ron said, looking back and forth between Harry and Malfoy.

"well, I would be going really blunt now because reg would be wanting answers soon." Malfoy motioned his hands around as if whatever he said made sense and who was this reg person even?

even if Malfoy had appeared confident just a moment ago, he took a deep breath before he started, looking determinant, "you're a professional quidditch player. You resigned from the aurors about nine years ago and have been persued by various teams, and have changed teams twice. You now are the main seeker for Puddlemere United. You got hit pretty hard by a bulger before losing consciousness. And then here we are two days later. Does that answer your questions?" Malfoy asked calmy, it's a lot to take in. Well, Harry never fancied being a Auror all that much after defeating that noseless bastard so it's a good decision on his part. He wondered how he came to the decision.

But more importantly, he still had plenty questions let, "who are you? I know your name, malfoy. I am curious to your status in my life." Harry asked and by the look on Hermione and Ron's face and pain reflecting on Malfoy's, he wondered what was so wrong about it.

"Harry, I must have forgotten to tell you. I'm the Minister now. And Ron became head auror just six months back! don't you think that's incredible?" Hermione asked but Harry knew when a topic was being changed pretty well.

"it's no use stopping the inevitable, Mione. He would know eventually and I rather face it myself firsthand. Would be the best route for my heart, you know?" Malfoy said sadly. As if he had something to be sad about, Harry scoffed mentally at that. And what ths fuck? Mione? Not only was Malfoy on first name basis but he also called his best friend by their nicknames? What had the world turned to?

"We are married, Potter. And no, I haven't used any illegal or inauthentic means to achieve it. We have been together for the almost nine years now. And married for the past six." Malfoy said in one breath and what the actual motherfucking fuck?

"Yeah, right. So what's the real shit?" Harry snorted because malfoy might have a humor but this was so fucking far from the truth that it was downright ridiculous.

"Draco is telling the truth, Harry. You both are married." Ron said, and are these people alright? Harry was getting worried.

"what did he do to the two of you as well? What kind of potion did you use? Or is it a spell? Tell me, Malfoy. How have you been doing it for what did you say? Nine years, yeah?" Harry sneered. Malfoy's face shattered, as it should. He had been caught afterall.

"Draco..." Hermione started but Malfoy quickly put up his hand.

"I can't, not right now. It's fine, Mione. Don't worry about me." Malfoy said with a broken voice. Harry had never seen Malfoy showing this kind of emotion publicly before, but Harry didn't care.

"oh, and if we are actually married. I would like a divorce, immediately if possible. You can take whatever you want from my vaults if you want, if money is what you have been after. Reckon you wouldn't need much, what with your family fortune but I guess some people are never satisfied." Harry taunted because that's what he knew best, even if Malfoy looked like he was on the verge of crying.

"are you sure you want that? You won't regret it when you get your memories back?" Malfoy asked slowly.

"oh, absolutely. I think my actual self would be actually thankful. And please do this as soon as possible." Harry requested, although his tone showed anything but.

"very well, Potter. If that's what you wish for, then that's what you get. Don't say I didn't warn you," Malfoy said one last time. Harry just snorted at that.

Ron looked torn between shocked and upset and Hermione was actually crying. She started protesting but Draco just shook his head and smiled at her.

"I always knew this dream would break, mione. I'll be fine. I have reg." Draco sighed before he came to stnd directly infront of Harry.

"break the bonds then, the certificate would already be produced after we do that. I'll contact the advocate right after." Draco put forward his hand and Harry hesitated for a bit before putting their hands together. The touch was familiar, the skin soft and tender. Harry didn't even dwell on that for more than a second.

Malfoy spoke a foreign language, although Harry did catch a few Latin words in there as well. He didn't really care, but when Malfoy finally extracted his hand. Harry gasped loudly, his heart felt lighter and there was a whole comfortable weight on his shoulders that was gone. He didn't like that feeling even one bit.

Malfoy silently wiped the tears in his eyes, as if that was insignificant. He stared at Harry for a long time, to the point that Harry started feeling uncomfortable.

"well, goodbye Potter." Draco said atlast and Harry just lifted an eyebrow and sneered at him. He gave a sad smile to Harry's bestfriends as well. Then, malfoy actually hugged both of them, together.

When they pulled apart, he said, "don't worry, you both. He is not my Harry anyway. I'll be fine." Malfoy didn't look fine and even Harry could tell that.

"what about reg?" Hermione asked. Seriously, who was this reg?

"I'll be taking him with me. Or since ha-potter is the one who is leaving. Reg would be staying with me."

Draco then smiled, Harry didn't like that look one bit, he looked at Harry through his red eyes and said, "i must have forgotten to mention but I'll make sure Regulus stays with me. What with you being unable to even remember him. I'm sure I would have no problem at all. And don't even try otherwise. Consequences would be deadly." Harry shivered at the words but still, didn't understand who Regulus was. The only Regulus he knew was Sirius's brother and he was long dead.

"Potter, Regulus is, Regulus Malfoy-Potter is our son. Or I should say my son." malfoy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, "and don't even try contacting him by anymeans before- no even after you have gained your memory back. Because trust me it will, and it won't be pretty. I don't want my child to go through anything that would cause him trauma, and trust me when your own dad can't remember you, that's going to fuck up anyone's mind real bad, especially for a one and half year old." Malfoy spat out.

Harry could still hear some words ringing in his mind. Child? He had a child? He was a dad? He had to-

"Your rings, Potter." Malfoy out forward his hand, Harry frowned at it.

Malfoy finally gestured at his left hand and he say it, a solid but thin band of gold with small diamonds encrusted. It looked perfect. Just what Harry would have wanted for himself. Did he choose the ring himself then? Not detered, he slid the ring out of his finger. It was with some struggle but it came out atlast. But malfoy was still standing with his hand open.

"what now?" Harry asked, irritatedly.

"the family ring." Malfoy coldly stated. Oh, he then noticed the Malfoy family ring on his tiny finger of his right hand. He practically threw that into Malfoy's hands. Who wanted to be even near that thing?

Malfoy's hand pulled into a tight fist and Harry noticed that he still had a wedding band. So of course, Harry asked, "what about the ones you are wearing?"

"what about them?" Malfoy inquired and Hermione asked at the same time Hermione cried out, "harry, can you please not?"

Harry ignored her and lifted his eyebrows at malfoy again, "well if you take away the ones I had. It's only fair, I get those back."

Malfoy's eyes flashed angrily before the icy facade was back on, "i didn't want dissolve the marriage. I have no obligation to return the rings. And even if I did, I won't. My Harry gave them to me afterall." Malfoy said coldly, but his voice broke at the end.

"and the child-"

"nothing of it. Regulus is my son and he'll be known as such from now on. I would like to see you try otherwise." Malfoy basically growled. Then he gave one mock salute to Harry and turned his back to them and strode out of the room.

The three of them sat in silence for thirty more seconds before Hermione got up, mumbled something about Draco and left the room hurriedly. Ron took off soon after.

He patted Harry on his shoulder and said, "mate that wasn't good. You're going to regret it." Ron had said it with such conviction that it had Harry frowning for several minutes.

In the empty hospital room, with no one but himself to provide company, he felt a strange sensation of dread creep up. He looked down on his ring finger and the slightly lighter skin tone seemed to taunt him.

Harry felt extremely lost, again.

Day 25: Battle || Day 27: Babysitting

Part 2