#other than the fact that I fully could not watch one of the episodes

[waterisntreal]

Just finished Burrow’s End. It is 4 am and I’m emotionally devastated

[annabelle--cane]

there's a lot going on in the mag 58 supplemental, this one little scene does a lot of heavy lifting to set up martin and tim's arcs for the rest of the show, but I want to focus on these lines particularly because of how therapy comes back as a symbol in s4/s5.

broadly, in the context of the meta plot and not the individual statements, seeking therapy in tma is representative of trying to improve oneself and get out of a bad situation. later, when taking melanie to therapy, georgie suggests that jon should get some as well but, when asked, says she wouldn't be willing to escort him like she does with melanie, showing how she does wish the best for jon in theory but doesn't think he actually wants to get better, or at least that she's not sure enough to involve herself with him.

that view of jon doesn't come from nowhere, because here we have an instance of him rejecting that same offer, symbolically rejecting help in favor of digging himself deeper on his own (obligatory disclaimer that irl therapy is a very personal thing and says nothing about one's overall character, this is just an examination of a motif in fiction). the word choice of "he just says no" imo implies that martin has suggested this multiple times and jon keeps giving the same answer, continually reaffirming that he does not want outside assistance to pull him out of this spiral.

the fact that martin's the one advocating to go soft on jon despite repeated refusals for more sympathetic help is interesting to me, because I would guess that this conversation was instigated by jon aggressively confronting martin about trevor herbert two episodes earlier. we know he was stalking all three of his assistants, but that is the biggest and most threatening outburst we get from jon in this period, and in this conversation it is still martin being defensive and apologetic vs tim being frustrated and pissed off.

I've said recently that I'm pretty sure martin believed jon was self harming and/or suicidal at this point, so I can see why he would be particularly willing to give jon slack and try to prevent any big conflicts, but that still contributes to his current narrative role of "guy who is treated the worst but ignores it because he's also the guy who cares the most." in that way, he's a foil for georgie; she cares, sure, but not enough to ignore (perceived) risks. martin pushes for jon to get therapy even as he lashes out and rejects help, and georgie won't involve herself when jon asks if she'd be willing to help him see a therapist.

this motif comes back around for a final complication in s5, when laverne, melanie's therapist, winds up as part of her cult. melanie's effort to get better and get out did have lasting effects, she is separated from the watcher/watched system and is coping a whole lot better than she would have before, but those personal efforts still weren't enough to fully get her out of the whole mess. no amount of individual action could remove her from this structural problem, her therapist helped her a lot but also now thinks she's a prophet.

which also comes back to the above scene. tim and martin both write off elias as useless in this situation, so they start sniping at each other and talking about how to stop jon from doing what he's doing without even really lingering on how the guy who is actually in charge and has power over them all is making it worse by neglecting his managerial duties. I'm sure jon could have done with some therapy at this point, but that would have only dealt with, like, 10% of the archive gang's current problems.

[heytherecentaurs]

Burrow's End is an absolute masterpiece.

In the span of ten episodes Aabria and Co. weave an exciting and emotional adventure story about a family of sentient stoats. It delivers huge laughs, interesting societal criticism, remarkably emotional and well-acted scenes and concludes with a series of epilogue scenes that feel appropriate for each character, some heartfelt and subdued and others bigger than life and all the funnier for it.

Siobhan and Izzy play the perfect pair of siblings. They fight and argue but they also love each other. Jaysohn (Siobhan) looks up to Lila (Izzy) and believes she's the smartest stoat in the world (and by the end she probably is) and Lila hypes up her little brother's athletic skills. They both fully embodied these kids and I could watch them do fun stuff for more episodes. Give me a version of Saved by the Bell with them. Stoat by the Bell.

Brennan and Rashawn, playing sisters, also knock it outta the park, showing a more mature sibling dynamic. Brennan portrays Tula as the quintessential overtired single mother of excitable kids, and Rashawn as younger sister Viola straddles a very interesting line of being intimidating to outsiders but very much more naive and looking to her older sister when she starts a family.

Jasper as Thorn, a guy everyone just lets be a cult leader because he really wanted to, is fantastic. His is a difficult role as the only non-blood relative. Jasper plays Thorn with such real humanity of a guy in over his head and letting his ambition wife call the shots, but also one who agrees with her goal, really loves her and has moments of real menace. He has some very funny scenes, his big speech is perfect, and I just enjoy him.

Erika is wonderful. They play the epitome of generational trauma as many have said but as much trauma as Ava has, she is also loving and willing to learn. The fact Erika took this adversarial role is incredible. The tense dramatic scene primarily between Ava, Tula and Viola is amazing. They act their asses off and make hard choices that I imagine are difficult even for such an experienced player.

Aabria's DMing always feels fun. She doesn't get bogged down in the rules. She knows them. She plays by them. But as a master, she knows how and when to break them too. Her seasons on Dimension 20 have all had a tenseness, a particular edge to them that can give me anxiety during dramatic scenes between two characters. It always feel like one of her NPCs may say something devastating and the tension between characters reaches really thrilling heights. This is present in other seasons, but I don't think anyone does it as well as she does. The first season of hers to have battle maps, Aabria really swung for the fences and gave us some of the wildest maps to date.

Shout out to Carlos Luna's voice acting. He did an incredible job. And shout out to the whole crew who have put together one of the best seasons of D20. They keep finding ways to build on what's come before and they should be commended for it.

Dimension 20 is most successful when the concept is very streamlined. They don't do huge 100 episode campaigns capable of handling huge winding complex narrative, but short focused D&D stories, which is why many of the Side Quests have been so fantastic. They embody this philosophy most clearly, but it's apparent in the most beloved Intrepid Heroes seasons as well—John Hughes/High Fantasy, Game of Thrones/Candyland, Retrofuturism, Film Noir but in a Brain... Burrow's End fits this perfectly. It's streamlined concept paired with great storytellers and great chemistry sets it up to be a smash hit before it begins. And goddamn does it deliver.

Thanks Stupendous Stoats!

[urdepressedslut]

I Get Scared Too

♡ Pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

♡ Summary: You have a close call during a mission, and back at the compound Bucky seems to be distant and cold towards you.

♡ Warnings: angst, fluff, reader injury, mentions of gunfire, hints to anxiety attack

A/N: this idea was from a dream i had (im a lucid dreamer). i have been writing in a dream journal since elementary school, so you can imagine the dreams i have jotted down 😭

The mission hadn’t gone to plan, shocker, but everyone kept all their limbs and were able to walk back to the quinjet.

You had a close call, you didn’t see the previously passed out agent sitting back up raising his gun to your back. Obviously before he could fire somewhere vital, Natasha had taken him down, faltering his aim. Although the bullet had skimmed you deep on your hip.

It was hardly life threatening, but Natasha being a protective best friend, scolded you for being reckless. You knew her intentions were good, and that she cared about you, but it didn’t stop you from being annoyed at her treating you like a kid.

She eventually walked to the other side of the quinjet, leaving you to your thoughts. You thought you had done really well, taking down twice as many enemies than last time. But of course, everyone always focused on your flaws, what you had done wrong.

When the quinjet finally landed back at the compound, you were the first one out, having a slight limp from the discomfort in your hip. But otherwise didn’t mind it, you wanted to find your favorite person and tell them all about the mission.

“FRIDAY, where’s Bucky?” You called out to the air once you were inside.

“Bucky is currently in his room, Miss (Y/n).” She announced, making you smile in excitement.

The mission had only been a three day trip, but you had missed him the second you stepped on the quinjet.

Arriving at his door, you knocked three times, hearing shuffling from inside. The door swung open to reveal an unhappy looking Bucky, causing your smile to waver. Assuming he was just having a bad day, you smiled wider and stepped forward to hug him.

“Hi Buck, I missed you.” You mumbled into his chest, squeezing him tighter when you didn’t feel him hug back.

His body tensed, and immediately you released him and stepped back. You were confused at what was wrong, his face was cold. You were hurt that he hadn’t hugged you back, wondering if you had done something to make him mad.

“Missed ya too um... You should go (Y/n).” He spoke finally, his voice holding annoyance.

You blinked up at him and shook your head, fully confused now.

“Buck wha— what’s going on?” You asked hesitantly, anxious that Bucky was being so short with you so suddenly and you didn’t know why.

“Nothing, I just wanna be alone.” He told you, and your heart broke for two reasons.

One, the thought of Bucky having an episode and you weren’t here for him made your heart hurt.

And two, he always came to you when he was upset and the fact that he didn’t want you with him… It stung.

You stared at him as your eyes started to water, your bottom lip starting to quiver. Your heart ached, but you wanted to respect his need for space. You didn’t know what else to say, and considering the lump forming in your throat, you decided to keep it short.

“Alright yeah, of course. I’ll… See you at dinner then.” You told him, watching him retreat back into his room and slam the door, making you flinch.

You were frozen in place, staring at the door expecting him to come back out and tell you it was all a prank. But several minutes passed and you were still staring at the door.

_____________________

You pushed the food around on your plate, keeping your eyes casted down. You had tried to get Bucky's attention, ever since you watched with glossy eyes as he passed his usual seat next to you, and instead sat at the other end of the table. He was avoiding your direction and never attempted to make eye contact.

Bucky giving you the cold shoulder, being silent with you was extremely painful. Considering how well you two communicated and talked, you were the one who had brought him out of his shell. It hurt so bad your chest ached physically.

Out of nowhere, you were slamming your fork down on the plate with a loud clank, causing everyones attention to snap to you.

"What's the matter with you cupcake?" Tony asked you, taking a sip from his wine glass.

Feeling embarrassed from everyones stares, you snuck a glance at Bucky at the end of the table, surprised when you met his concerned eyes.

You scoffed, shaking your head in bewilderment. He had no right to act concerned, after ignoring you. You almost felt bad for him, thinking he was having a bad day, but after you watched him chatter playfully at dinner with everyone, you realized it was only you he didn't want to speak to.

"Hello? Earth to (Y/n)!?" Tony announced, banging on the table to get your attention when he noticed you spacing out.

Everyone was concerned about you by now, all watching you carefully. You glared at Bucky and stood up without answering Tony, pushing your chair back and quickly exiting the dining room.

"Must be her time of the month." Tony mumbled, earning a slap to the back of the head from the redhead next to him. "Ow... What?!"

"Shut up Tony." Natasha rolled her eyes, turning to Bucky and giving him a 'What did you do' look.

_____________________

Laying in bed on your side, you pulled the blanket tighter to your chest with a sniffle. You began to turn over on your other side when your hip throbbed painfully at the movement. The waves of pain had your body shuttering, your eyes filling with fresh tears, rolling down your flushed cheeks.

You blamed your tears on your hip pain, but all the emotions you’d piled up since you’d gotten back from the mission was weighing on you now.

Light knocks sounded from your door, causing you to tense up and turn your back to the door. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone, especially if it was him.

“(Y/n)? I know you heard me.” Natasha muttered, opening the door, letting herself in.

“What do you want Nat?” You snapped, not meaning to take out your frustrations on her.

“You wanna tell me what’s going on? Your little scene downstairs has everyone worried.” She told you, earning a scoff from you, still refusing to face her.

“It’s nothing.” You sighed, wishing she could leave so you could attempt to sleep your issues away.

“Didn’t seem like nothing.” She retorted, huffing in annoyance when you stayed silent.

You were staring at the wall, biting your lip, trying to hold in your built up emotions. Too busy to notice Natasha whispering to another person entering the room. It was when you felt the edge of the bed behind you dip down that snapped your attention back.

“Hey doll,” Bucky greeted, “How’s your hip?”

You twisted your body back facing his worried form, but your eyebrows were furrowed on how he even knew about your injury.

“How did you…”

“Nat told me.”

Rolling your eyes, you were cursing under your breath. Throwing the blanket over your head in attempt to hide.

Your blanket cocoon was quickly ripped away by Bucky, pulling the blanket all the way down below your knees. His eyes dancing around your bandaged hip, clenching his jaw at the red seeping through the white gauze.

“(Y/n), is your hip feeling okay? Do we need to change it—“

“I’m fine!” You snapped, “Now go away.”

You we’re looking everywhere but his eyes, knowing you’d break down if you saw the disappointment in them.

Bucky was taken a back, but he couldn’t be all that angry when he’d brought all this on himself. He just got into this weird headspace when he’d heard the mission report, hearing that you’d been hurt. He realized it wasn’t fatal, but he didn’t like seeing his girl hurt at all. He realized he took it a little too far, he didn’t mean to make you upset the way he did. He’d shut you out and he felt like his old self when he’d first arrived at the compound again. Anxious and closed off, pushing you away when he really wanted to pull you into his arms and tell you how much he loves you.

“Doll, talk to me.” He practically begged, his metal arm whirring, having to stop himself from reaching out to touch you.

“Why are you ignoring me?” You rushed out, your voice louder than you intended it to be, “Is it because I messed up on the mission? A-are you disappointed in me or something? Huh?”

Your chest was rising and falling in a fast rhythm, your mind going haywire at the possibilities of why Bucky was suddenly indifferent with you. Your throat felt like it was tightening up.

Bucky stayed silent, his heart hurting, feeling terrible for making you feel this way.

You couldn’t stop your mind from producing the awful thoughts, and like a switch had been flipped, the dam inside of you cracked. The tears wouldn’t stop, your sobs painful sounding

“Is it… Is it because you— I— Do you not love m-me anymore?” You wheezed out.

Bucky snapped out of his silent trance, his hands cupping your face, brushing away the tear streaks.

“Baby no…” He hushed, trying to stop your mind from torturing yourself.

“I’m so sorry Buck, I-I love you so much and I…” You hiccuped, “If I did something— If I’m not good enough—“

“No Doll hey… Stop that,” He cooed, “You haven’t done anything wrong, okay?”

“Bu-but you…”

“I know baby, I’ve been a dick. I shouldn’t of shut you out like that I was just… I was scared.” Bucky confessed, your tears and breathing slowing down, you sitting silent besides the occasional hiccup.

“I still… I don’t understand?” You thought out loud.

Bucky breathed heavily, swallowing the forming lump in his throat. He scooted closer to you, pulling your form closer to him, and you let him.

“(Y/n), you have no idea how scared I was when I heard you had gotten hurt.” He started, watching your face soften at his wavering voice.

“Buck, I’m okay though.” You reassured him, grabbing his palms, rubbing your thumb comfortingly over the back of his hand.

“I know baby, but… I couldn’t help but think if you got hurt on a mission and—“ He panted out, “And you didn’t make it.”

Your heart ached at the pain laced in his words, him holding onto your hands in a desperate grip.

“Buck..”

“I know that doesn’t give me an excuse to be a dick to you I… I just get into this headspace every time you are headed back from a mission, when I’m waiting to hear that you’re alright and… When I heard you had gotten hurt— I just assumed the worst.” He finished.

The disappointment was clear on his face, but it wasn’t directed toward you, it was directed to himself.

You understood that he meant no harm, and you felt incredibly bad that he suffered so much while you were gone, you thought it was the other way around. You felt extremely loved in a sense, feeling lucky enough to have someone worry as deep as he did for you.

“Buck, you should’ve just told me how you were feeling from the start. You know I’d listen,” You paused, doubt clouding your thoughts, “You still trust me enough to talk to me… Right?”

Bucky immediately nodded his head, cupping your face, hearing your faltering voice.

“Of course I do baby, I trust you with my life.” He reassured you, “I don’t know why I got like that.”

“I know why,” You started, cradling his face, watching him snuggle his cheek deeper into your palm, “You have a good heart, and sometimes having a good heart can be overwhelming, because you can care so much about something.”

“I don’t want a good heart if it’s going to make me act that way.” He whispered sadly, lowering his eyes.

“That’s the thing about having a good heart,” You lifted his head slightly so his eyes met yours, “Its not something you can just change, it’s a part of you.”

He gazed from each eye, to your lips, then back up to your eyes, mesmerized by your beauty and soul. How could you be so forgiving and caring towards him?

“I’m so sorry I shut you out (Y/n), I love you and I will never do something like that again.” He promised, lifting and pulling you into his lap, curling his arms around your frame. Sitting his chin on top of your head.

You snuggled your face into his neck, wrapping your arms around him protectively.

“It’s okay Buck, I get scared too.”

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 | dark-ish!joel miller x reader

sequel to 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐞

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | your... relationship with joel, if you can call it that, has become all you know. you might be his only indulgence, but what happens to you when he needs to leave the boston qz?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | just under 6k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | no episode 2 spoilers/no relationship to the show's plot, extremely dubious consent SMUT (18+ only as always; unprotected sex, non-graphic somnophilia, free use, cnc), angst, graphic depictions of addiction, drug use, and withdrawals, daddy kink, breeding kink, implied but unspecified age gap, degradation and praise, mean!joel but with some hints of soft!joel in there

The lights are on, but you’re not home

Your mind is not your own

Your heart sweats, your body shakes

Another kiss is all it takes…

There were words in your mind, a faint melody echoing, but you couldn’t tell where any of it came from.  You didn’t think you dreamt it, but you weren’t even sure if you’d been asleep this morning.  Time didn’t seem to move the same way when he was gone.

You were tangled in Joel’s sheets, but suddenly it was too warm for them and so you kicked them off, letting the still air of the room sink onto your bare skin.  Your eyes were open sometimes, shut other times… but because the view never changed— the window, the table and chair, the radio— you never knew how much time had passed.

It had to be afternoon when you heard the door open and shut; normally, if he came back during the day, it was the afternoon.  You imagined getting up and greeting him, but you knew you couldn’t— too tired, exhausted to the bone, still recovering from what happened before he left this morning.  In fact, you were already damn near asleep again by the time he had stepped inside.

He approached the bed, tilting his head slightly as he watched you lay still on your back.  He said nothing, just started to open his belt.

“I can’t,” you pouted, but he just grinned at you.

“Can’t say no to me, baby,” he reminded you softly.

“Joel, please,” you whimpered, as he climbed on top of you with a groan, “no— m’still sore…”

“Shh,” was his only reply, his hand reaching into his jeans so he could guide his cock to your opening.  He wasn’t even fully hard yet— but he was hard enough, and he forced his head into you with a grunt.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, holding onto him tightly to cope with the pain; he stretched you open and reawakened the pain from before when he’d fucked you for hours, spitting on your pussy to keep it wet when your body had given all it could.

He buried his face in your neck, breathing in deep, whispering a few things you were too caught up in your discomfort to really make out.  “Just need you right now,” that was one you remembered— “need you, baby…”

This was pretty typical.  Well, it didn’t always hurt this much, but waiting for him all day just so he could come back and use you however he wanted, that was normal.  So normal that you’d basically forgotten what life was like before this— before him, before the pills… it was like a memory of a dream, fading faster than you could try to remember it each morning.

He kept you high pretty much constantly, though not nearly enough for your tastes.  It was a delicate balance: not enough pills, and you might say ‘fuck this’ and leave him, if you even knew how; too many, and you’d be too fucked up to do what he said— or worse, you might OD.  His regiment for you was strict, and designed to keep you addicted enough that you needed him but without getting your tolerance too high.

It was only a few months after this little arrangement started that you moved in.  He wanted access to you all the time, and frankly, you only agreed to it because you thought you could find out where he kept the motherlode and steal a lifetime supply of pills before disappearing into the night.  Of course, even if you had found the stash, he would’ve found you not too much later— because it’s Joel, and that’s what he does.  But it didn’t matter now, because you never found anything more than what he was already going to give you, and that was… you didn’t even know how long ago that was.  Everything was sort of a blur now.

He pulled out, but he wasn’t done; he was only stopping to roll you onto your stomach, running his rough hand down your bare back with a soft hum.  You hissed as he slid inside you again, but if you knew how to do anything by now, it was how to lay down and take it.  Joel admired this talent of yours; “Jus’ take it, baby, mm,” he cooed encouragingly, his thrusts deeper yet slower as he got back to it.  “Good girl.”

Even though you were so weak you could hardly grab the thin pillow under your head, you still moaned and arched your back at that.  You tried not to think too much about why you craved his approval so much, mostly because deep down, you already knew: he gave you purpose, the one thing drugs couldn’t give you.  The pills kept you happy, numb, satisfied; he made you feel like you actually might have some shred of value, even if he was the one who robbed you of your dignity, freedom, your independence of both body and mind.

It was worth it, though.  A fair trade, you thought.

“Joel,” you whimpered when his fingers dug into your arm, holding you tight while he laid on top of you; his lips and teeth trailed along your neck and shoulder, his hips grinded against your ass as he fucked you as deep as he could.  By now, it didn’t hurt when he went that deep— you’d basically built up an immunity, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t still be sore when he fucked you before he left only to do it all again as soon as he came home.  His stamina was impressive at best, dangerous at worst… you might not have agreed to move in here if you knew how often he would want to get his dick wet.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “s’me, baby, m’right here…”

You wondered if he really thought you weren’t sure— you weren’t that high, but it wasn’t the most outlandish idea.  Sometimes you woke up to him already inside you, sometimes you drifted in and out of consciousness while he was using you and he didn't even slow down— sometimes he'd give your face little slaps to try to keep you awake, mumbling 'look at me, baby, look up at me with those pretty eyes'...

Maybe you dreamed those, you couldn't even be sure.  "So good," he grunted as his pace increased and he fucked you faster.  "Perfect little pussy, nice and tight for me."

You buried your face deeper in the pillow to muffle your whines, but he yanked your head back by your hair.  “Fuck!” you yelped as he pressed his lips to your ear.

“Wanna hear you,” he explained in a grunt that made shivers jump up and down your spine like lightning.  “Lemme hear how much my little whore likes it— let ‘em all hear.”

“Fuck,” you said again, closer to a sob now, “Joel, daddy, please— please, fuck, m’gonna—”

“Gonna cream for me?” he finished for you, and you shut your eyes tight as you nodded.  His free hand was kneading your ass, still decorated with a few old bruises from the last time he gave you some nice hard spanks.  “Gonna soak my dick?”

“Yeah,” you panted, “yeah— you’re gonna make me come…”

He let go of your hair, instead wrapping his arm around your neck— he didn’t use it to choke you this time, just to keep you close as he pressed himself to you.  He usually stayed fully dressed, and didn’t give you anything to cover yourself; you would steal a shirt of his from time to time, only for him to take it back to put on before he left— as if he didn’t have anything else he could wear, you knew he had more than one fucking shirt.

Maybe he just wanted to make you stay naked.  Maybe he just wanted to take the scent of you with him when he left.  Who’s to say?

“So good, so fuckin’ good,” he praised, groaning loudly as he sped up even more.  “Tell me what you want.”

That was code for tell me what I want to hear.  “Want you to come inside, daddy,” you sighed, “wan’ it all inside me, please, want you to— to fill my pussy—”

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice deeper than ever, and a shudder tensed up your insides around him.  “Yeah— fuck, keep going.”

“Please, please,” you rambled, your own pleasure ready to burst even though there was still that edge of pain to it all, “wanna be full of your come— wanna… want you to… knock me up…”

He laughed, but then he growled a second later and fucked you more brutally than ever until you bit back a scream.  “Yeah?  Fuck, you’re such a needy slut,” he spat.  “Need my come that bad?  ‘Cause you wanna be pregnant?”

You swallowed, nodding as you pretended that wasn’t one of your biggest fears.  “Yes, daddy, please— need you, need you, fuck, I need you—”

“Come,” he ordered, “right fuckin’ now, come for me—”

He kept talking, but you stopped listening; when it hit you, it was like your muscles were too weak to do what your orgasm dictated they should— because normally, everything in you would tighten and your toes would curl and your head would fall back and it would be obvious that you were coming for him.  Instead, all you could do was lay there and let it wash over you, pangs of pleasure and pain alternating while he groaned and came with you.  He coated your walls with every pump, thrusts faltering until his forehead rested on your shoulder with a long sigh.

“Fuck,” he whispered, only indulging in a moment of rest and stillness before he pulled out and got up.  It was amazing to you how he could just shove his dick back in his jeans and zip up and it was like nothing happened— amazing, and sad.  Meanwhile, you couldn’t even get up off the bed, couldn’t even walk if you tried.  He had such an effect on you, and you were just an instinct for him— just a fill to a need, like food is to hunger or water is to thirst.  Maybe you sort of liked to be needed, but it wasn’t easy.

“Is it time yet?” you asked.

“No,” he answered quickly, firmly, and you rolled your eyes.  He never told you what time you were allowed to get your fix, usually he just told you that it wasn’t time yet.  It felt like it was never fucking time.  What was even the point of all this if he made you wait?  You never made him wait— you tried, but he made it clear your body was his and your job was just to spread your legs when he was ready.

You like to think that you’re immune to the stuff, oh yeah

Closer to the truth to say you can’t get enough

You know you’re gonna have to face it, you’re addicted to love

You were lucid enough now to actually question how and why those words were in your head; your eyes were heavy, but you kept them open to look at the radio.  “A song…” you realized aloud.

He looked over at you again.  “Huh?”

You summoned your little strength to lift yourself up— just enough to turn onto your side and slip under the sheet again.  You were cold again, even though the temperature in the room hadn’t changed.  “The radio… there was a song,” you mumbled.

He stepped up to you again.  “What song?”

You shook your head.  “Didn’t know it,” you said.  Because of course you didn’t, you barely knew anything, you were too young to remember before.  You barely even remembered last month— the pills will do that to you.

“Well, how did it go?” he asked.

Looking away, you tried to conjure it in your mind, but it was so distant.  Did he want you to hum it for him, sing or something?  Your throat was tired from screaming all that bullshit about getting pregnant— it was gonna be a pretty rough go, if you tried that.  “I… I dunno,” you mumbled.  “My brain’s all… it’s fuzzy.  I need the pills.”

He tightened his jaw.  “Are you trying to negotiate with me?” he asked, the tone of his voice making it obvious that the correct answer was no.

“I— no, I,” you stalled, “I really can’t remember, I just… maybe if you give me some—”

“God damn it,” he rolled his eyes as he started to reach into his coat pocket.  “One.  Y’hear me?  One.”

Suddenly you were full of energy, sitting up on the bed and reaching for him eagerly.  “Yeah, yeah,” you agreed, nodding fervently.  “Thanks, s’gonna help, Joel, really.”

You tried to grab the pill as soon as you saw it, but he jerked it away.  “Jesus,” he grumbled, “give me a second.”

He set it on the bedside table, taking out a gun from his belt next and using the butt to crush the pill.  You watched, enraptured, practically drooling, as he ground the pill into powder and prepared a line for you.

“Do you need—?” he began to ask as he backed away, likely about to offer a rolled up paper or something to make it easier, but you were already face-first in it, holding one nostril shut and running the other across the surface of the table.

One wasn’t much, but neither is a sip of water when you’re stranded in the desert— but it’s still incredible.  You hummed a little as you sat back on the bed, tilting your head back.  It was already hitting, and you were already feeling better than you had all day.

A one track mind, you can’t be saved

Oblivion is all you crave

If there’s some left for you, you don’t mind if you do

“You remember it now?” he asked impatiently.

“Yeah,” you sighed.  “Yeah, uh—” you cleared your throat and did your best to sing the hook, the part that repeated a thousand times— “might as well face it, you’re addicted to love.”

You opened your eyes again for his reaction, maybe hoping he might say something nice about your singing voice or thank you for remembering.  That wasn’t quite how it went.  “Shit,” Joel hissed, then again, louder: “Shit!”

“What?” you wondered, your voice sleepy and slurred as you sunk back into the bed, ready to go back to sleep— real sleep, the kind you can only get from a hit.  It wouldn’t last long, but it would still be better than anything else.

“We’ve gotta go.”

“What?!” you said again, though this time you had a lot more energy, because you heard what he said.  He was already shoving things into a bag.  “Joel, we— what?  Go where?”

“Long story, I’ll explain on the way,” he promised.  “Just… start getting your things together.”

What things? “Seriously, we can’t— I can’t—”

“Do what I fucking say,” he said sharply, stopping what he was doing to look at you intensely.  “Don’t make me tell you again: Get dressed. Get your shit. We’re going.”

~

The first day was torture.  You thought maybe he was getting sick of you, too— you weren’t very… useful.  You couldn’t even keep up with him, couldn’t follow as quickly or navigate the rocky, uneven terrain outside the QZ like he could.  You held out hope that you were going to get your daily dose soon— he only gave you that one before, never your full allowance— but as it grew darker, you realized he was going to have you skip the day since you wouldn’t be in any condition to hike once you got your fix.  He promised, though, that you could have a double dose tomorrow if you were patient.  It was still nearly impossible to wait for it, but it was a nice motivator to keep moving.

He never explained where you were going exactly, or why— just that the song you heard on the radio was code for something that he needed to handle.  In a weird way, you were flattered that he was bringing you with him, even though all you could think about was going back home and curling up in his bed.

What you expected to be the worst part of this, though, turned out to be one of the only good things about this situation: sleeping.  He brought something to roll out on the ground, and it helped, but you’d been dreading sleeping on the ground from the moment you stepped outside of Joel’s apartment.  The thing about sleeping out here, though, was that— unlike at home— he held you at night.  Sure, it wasn’t the first time you’d cuddled with Joel, but it was the first time you really noticed it— normally, he would hold you while you slept but he’d be gone before you woke up, so you’d really only be aware if you happened to wake up while he was still asleep.  Instead, now, it started from the beginning: he motioned for you to lay down with him, opening up his arm for you and letting you rest your head on his shoulder.  He held you close, promising it wouldn’t get too cold, even breathing in deeply against the top of your head.  

It took you longer to fall asleep than him, and not just because you were craving your fix; you couldn’t really wrap your brain around all of it, and every time you looked up at his sleeping face, you realized how rare it was to see him this vulnerable.

In the middle of the night, awakened by the pain of craving those pills you were waiting for you traced his features— the lines on his forehead, the slope of his nose, the salt-and-pepper stubble on his jaw.

Having a mischievous thought, your eyes glanced at the jacket rolled up under his head; the right side pocket, he’d pulled out the pill from you from there.  Is that where he’s keeping the rest of them?  You examined it, wondering if you could somehow reach into it without unrolling it or waking him up.

It definitely wouldn’t have worked, but you didn’t even get a chance to try— when your fingers brushed over the jacket, the sound of your fingers on the fabric just beside his ear woke him up.  He just stirred at first, but then he blinked his eyes open and hummed as he held you tighter.

“Can’t sleep,” you whispered, and even though you didn’t think that was good news, he smiled at you and turned on his side— pulling you into him, nuzzling his face in your neck.

“Tell me what you need, baby,” he mumbled just beside your ear.

I need the fucking pills, Joel.  “I need you,” you whispered instead.

He rolled you onto your back, kissing up and down the height of your throat, humming soft praises to you.  It was so easy to give into him, like second nature: you spread your legs and let his body slot between them, hooking your ankles together behind his back and holding on with trembling hands to his broad shoulders.  “Gonna give you what you need,” he promised, and you sighed in satisfaction— you were still imagining tomorrow, when he’d give you what you really needed, but a little dopamine in the meantime would stave off the shakes at least.

He pushed up the borrowed shirt you were wearing, and pulled your panties halfway down your thighs.  A second later, his pants were shoved down and he was inside you— and yes, it stung at first, but it was also shockingly comfortable.  Not just the penetration itself, but the slow movements of his hips, the kisses on your jaw and collarbone, the way he held you… 

“So good, my good girl,” he whispered to you, making you moan shamelessly.  “Shh, not so loud— need to be quiet, okay?  Not too loud…”

Nodding and biting your lip, you tried your best, but every time he filled you made waves of relief flood your body; it was hard to keep from just saying his name, over and over, like a mantra as he took you to enlightenment.

It was mostly wordless after that, spare a few times you hissed out a yes or he mumbled a fuck, but much more was said in the silence.  The way his hand gripped your thigh, fingers digging into the softness of your skin, said don’t leave, don’t even move, you’re right where I want you.  The way his teeth nipped at your neck said I’m holding myself back, but I can only control myself so much.  The way you hid your face in his chest said I know if you look at me now, you’ll see everything.

He must’ve heard that, then, because his free hand brushed your hair back and guided your head to lay down on the jacket-pillow again— he stared down at you, and bent down to kiss away the tear on your temple.  Maybe a more gentlemanly sort of guy would actually stop and ask why you were crying, but you knew he already knew that this wasn’t a cry of pain or anguish, he knew that if he stopped you’d just whine and beg him to keep going.

So he didn’t stop, not until he’d made you fall apart to the pleasure and your walls were coated with him once again.  Even as weak as your body had become, you still found the energy to give him one more squeeze when he grunted at the end, the rough sound of his pleasure which you took a little too much pride in being responsible for.

Only then did you finally fall asleep, with him still inside you and surrounding you, your whole body going a little numb— yet you were warm, ecstasy running through your veins, thick and sweet like syrup.

~

Some things didn’t change at all: he wasn’t laying with you when you woke up, already re-packing the bag and checking his map one more time.  At least he wasn’t totally gone, like most mornings, but of course he’d never leave you out here on your own.

Another thing that didn’t change was your favorite question.  You’d probably asked almost ten times already: “Is it time yet?”

It never was— you tried to keep walking, keep following, but each step was worse than the last and your body felt completely drained.  Joel apparently didn’t understand this, but the pills didn’t really get you high anymore, not in the way they had when he was just your dealer once a week.  You needed them just to feel normal; it wasn’t for fun, you weren’t partying or anything, you just wanted the pain to stop… you just wanted to sleep.

At least you got a few hours last night, but your body could only take so much, and your brain could only survive on so little.

“Is it—” you began as you trailed behind him.

“Don’t ask again,” he ordered, still marching ahead determinedly.  “You’ll know when it’s time.”

“How will I know?” you asked, but he didn’t answer, he didn’t even look back at you over his shoulder.  He just readjusted the pack on his back and kept moving forward.

The sun was so low you couldn’t even see it past the buildings on the horizon, a tangerine haze settling over the ruins of wherever-the-fuck-you-were, and he was guiding you up a long cement spiral— a parking garage, if you were thinking clearly enough to consider what this used to be.

You were thinking clearly enough to know this wasn’t a necessary path through; this was a detour, and presumably it was where you’d settle for the night considering it had all the necessary attributes of a temporary shelter.  You liked this better than the last place— you could probably get inside one of the cars left behind, clean it out a bit, and have an especially secure (and padded) sleeping spot— but there was still one glaring flaw with this plan: it was nearly time to stop for the night and you still didn’t get your goddamn fix.  

You’d been saving your complaints in case he went back on the offer to double you up for today, but you couldn’t hold it back anymore.  Your hands were shaking— almost made you paranoid that you got infected somehow, even though you had managed to avoid any runners the past two days.

“Please, Joel, m’goin’ crazy over here,” you whimpered, clutching your arm.  “I need—”

“I don’t have any!” he finally snapped at you.  “I was out when we left.”

“No,” you denied instantly, “no— you’re lying, you had one— you gave me one.”

He sighed, his expression and tone losing their frustration and shifting instead to a sort of solemnity as his shoulders slumped.  “It was the last one.

It was like instinct: you ran at him like you really thought you could take him down.  Of course, as soon as you reached him, he held you back without even putting much effort into it while you clawed and screeched and and said every horrible thing you could think of.  “Fuck, Joel!  Fucking fuck you!  I hate you!” you screamed.  

“You wouldn’t have come with me if I told you,” he offered, as if that were a defense.

“No fucking shit!” you yelped, trying to writhe your way out of his grip on your wrists, but it was useless.  So you tried to kick him— and then he went from mildly irritated to properly done with your shit.  Shoving you back, he pushed you away and you tripped on a broken chunk of cement; the pain of hitting the ground was nothing— nothing compared to the aching need that crawled under your skin, nothing compared to the twist in your heart that made your eyes and nose burn.  Sniffling, you hid your face with your arm so he wouldn’t see you cry.

He knelt down in front of you, sighing like he was about to say something, but he didn’t.

“I need them, Joel, I need them,” you kept repeating weakly.  “I’m so— fuck, I can’t even think without them…”

“You can’t think with them, either,” he replied.  “They were messing with your head, kid.”

No, you were messing with my head.  You made me your slave and now I’m stranded in the middle of fucking nowhere about to go into withdrawals.

His hand came to rest on your knee, and you were too exhausted to even pull away.  “You needed to get clean— now’s as good a time as any.”

You pulled your arm down so you could glare at him.  “Now, Joel?  Cold turkey, hours from the nearest QZ, no doctors or nurses or fucking anything around— now’s as good a time as any?”

He frowned and looked away.  

“You know how much you had me on, you know I can’t just stop.”

“You’re gonna have to,” he shrugged.  “Unless you have a better plan.”

“We’ll go back—”

“Are you fucking kidding?”

“We— there’s gotta be something on the way, somewhere we can go to get more—”

“There’s not,” he promised.  “You’re just gonna have to ride it out.  But it’s gonna be so much better when you get to the other side— it won’t control you anymore—”

“Will you?”

He stopped.  For a second, he actually looked sad— heartbroken, if you didn’t know any better.  After a long silence, his face straightened out again and he looked at you, just as cold and stern as usual.  “You know you can’t leave,” he said.  “Not because I’m making you stay— because you’ll die if you go alone.”

“I know,” you admitted, only able to whisper because speaking any louder would make your voice break with a sob.  “I know, Joel, I know— m’fuckin’ useless, I know—”

“Shh, hey,” he reached forward, hesitantly stroking your arm through the material of his own shirt that you were wearing.  “That’s not what I mean.  I just can’t let that happen to you— you have to stay here.  Just for the night.”

As if tomorrow you’d be free— but tomorrow would be the same, tomorrow might be even worse depending on how bad the withdrawals got.  Tomorrow wouldn’t give you some magical way to get home, or to get your fix, or to trust him again after that monumental lie.

Still, you both knew that you had no choice tonight: you were here now and he was all you had.

You didn’t even sleep for a second.  The two of you hunkered down in a rotted Land Rover just because, well, it felt like the fanciest option and the seats were in better condition than most; he held you all night, rubbing your back and trying his best to soothe you as the pain grew and grew.  You cried into his chest— you wanted to hate him, but the way he held you was the only thing that didn’t feel like pure agony right now.  You wanted to blame him, but you subconsciously associated him with the cure; some part of you was convinced he was the cure.

“Hurts,” you choked out, as if this was some new information for either of you; it was like everything inside you was sharp, your toes were curling inside your boots and your brain felt like it was swelling up and pressing against the inside of your skull.  “Hurts, Joel…”

“I know, I know,” he soothed, letting you grip as tight as you could onto his arm.  “It gets better— it’s gonna stop hurting soon.”

"I think I'm dying," you announced, "am I dying?"

"No, baby," he sighed, "you're not.  You'll be fine."

“I think I’m gonna die,” you sobbed anyways.  “I can’t— I can’t do this… I just want it to stop…”

“I know,” he said again.  That was the meat of it, really: you kept telling him how bad it hurt and he kept telling you he knew.  But you couldn’t imagine how he could understand pain like this.

It was quiet for a long time, probably hours.  You’d stopped crying— you felt empty of all tears, of all words or thoughts— and just tried to breathe as slowly as you could.  Your heart wanted to race even as you sat perfectly still, curled up in his lap, and it scared the shit out of you; so you were doing everything you could to try to get your heart rate down, taking long breaths and saying nothing and keeping your eyes shut as you rested your tear-stained face on his shirt.

His own breathing was the only other sound in the car— you could hear his heartbeat, too, with your ear on his chest, and you tried to get your own to match it.  It was steady and strong, not weak and unpredictable like yours; it was fitting, really.

It almost startled you when he spoke; it made your heart pick up again, slightly, but you didn’t react otherwise.  “I couldn’t give you anymore, sweetheart,” he whispered, petting your head softly.  “I know you fucking hate me, I know what I did to you for this long… you know it’s almost been a year?  Since you first ran out of rations and offered yourself instead, can you believe that?”

You were too weak to answer— he probably thought you were asleep, he only got to talking this much when at least one of you was asleep.

“I never felt good about it,” he admitted, “but I was able to let it go for a while.  Having you was worth it.  I felt like fuckin’ shit keeping you hooked on that crap but I couldn’t lose you— I knew if I stopped, you’d leave.  What I didn’t realize was I was gonna lose you to the drugs if I didn’t get you clean.  You were too fucked up, baby, you were barely there… this was the only way, m’so sorry, but this was the only way— couldn’t lose you, darlin’, I couldn’t lose you…”

He was holding your limp body so tight, so close, burying his face in your neck; you’d never really seen him like this, he had his moments but he was generally pretty aloof.  You wished you had the strength to tell him: I was never gonna leave you, Joel.  I was never strong enough for that.

~

You watched the sunrise, through the filthy back window of the car and between the cement levels of the dilapidated garage.  Then you watched Joel sleep, and felt a different pain than the shudders of withdrawals that you’d almost gotten used to by now: the pain of loving someone, and having no fucking idea how to survive it.  You were still angry with him for what he’d done, and why he did it, but you knew you were going to tolerate it all— and not just because you had to.  You needed him now, for much more than just survival.

The shakes hit again, and though you held your fist tight to fight it, the movement still woke him.  He opened just one eye first, and you couldn’t help but smile slightly at the expression on his face.

“Drink some more water,” he encouraged you— and you were perfectly capable of handling that task yourself, but he still unscrewed the canteen he’d brought and held it to your lips, tilting it forward slightly for you.  With his guidance, you drank a bit more than you usually would have, which was probably a good thing.  “How are you feeling?” he asked when he let you stop.

“Better,” you admitted.  “I didn’t think it would ever get better but… yeah, better.”

“It might come and go for a while,” he warned you, “but we won’t start moving again until you’re ready.”

You nodded, rubbing your own arm as you noticed a slight chill inside the car.  Your legs were still draped over his lap, and he wrapped an arm around them.  “M’ready,” you decided.  “Just… might need a break—”

“Yeah, of course,” he offered; you’d never seen him so effusive, if that was the right word.  He could certainly be gentle, it wasn’t the first time you’d seen that side, but that was usually little physical things like petting your head or cleaning you off with a rag or something.  Not words: not promising, in a not-so-obvious way, that he would do anything to take care of you now.  That he cared more about keeping you safe than getting to where he needed to go.

Still, you didn’t want to abuse his mercy.  It didn’t take you too long to get everything together and head out, setting down a new path that he’d actually explained to you somewhat in advance: past that big tree there, between the two grey buildings, and East for a while…

For most of the morning you were silent— he led, you followed, walking along the uneven ground and avoiding anything that looked like it might be connected to the larger network of infection.

It must’ve been about an hour before you finally found the courage to say something.  “I don’t hate you,” you blurted out.

He looked over your shoulder at you, an unreadable expression on his weathered face.

“Just wanted you to know that,” you explained.

He nodded, turning back forward, and you kept moving.

[starry-bi-sky]

For the Danyal Al Ghul AU: How would Danyal react to other canon events like when Sam wishes she never met Danny, Tucker wishes for powers, the christmas episode, or other DP canon events?

(Also, I assume Danyal's cover is blown by the reality Gaunlet event.)

Ohooho I love this question. So im only gonna respond to the episodes you mentioned, since it's been a while since i actually watched the show and I don't remember all the episodes. And also since I don't remember them fully, I'm gonna get details wrong. I am fine with that, it still gets the gist down lol. I've got the tvtropes recap page pulled up, so i'll be using that to try and hit the major points it mentions.

So, Memory Blank! Man I've thought about that one, and its the one I'm frankly most excited to answer because it gets to show just how much of a positive impact being friends with Sam and Tucker had on Danyal. So where to start? Their fight goes differently than in canon, but I'm going to start from after Sam makes her wish.

Firstly; she and Tucker are friends, but the two of them are not friends with Danny. He's on his own. In this au, the three of them became friends when they were 11 and Danny's been in Amity Park for about a year.

They met in the beginning with Sam trying to befriend him at first because she realized that they shared similar ideals on environmentalism, but he rebuffed her pretty harshly due to a combination of grief over leaving his home, trying to process the fact that he can never return and will never see his brother again or meet his father, and just plain League arrogance lmao. He really hated being in Amity Park just in general because it wasn't his home and it was the city too.

So he was really rather unapproachable in the beginning. People kept a pretty wide berth of him due to Fenton association and his own vibes.

But Danny's still a kid, and they want socialization with their peers. At 11 he didn't have any friends, and was frankly quite lonely. He decided to approach Sam and Tucker after deeming them "acceptable allies", although Sam wasn't really interested at first up until he did the equivalent of apologizing. Tucker warmed up first afterwards, but Sam really wasn't too far behind.

So thats how they became friends, post-wish though? Lets say that Sam didn't accept the apology and rebuffed Danny, and kinda intimidated Tucker into doing the thing. Danyal closed down, backed off, and then never approached them again because he decided right then and there he wasn't going to chase it. Wasn't worth his effort or time.

Then he just. never approached another person after that because he didn't want to get rebuffed again (he wouldn't admit that it hurt a bit), and he could already tell his efforts wouldn't work. He turned his attention to other stuff. In this timeline it wasn't too difficult to find him at events dedicated to combatting climate change, deforestation, light pollution, animal cruelty, etc. the LOA is an environmentalist group, after all. They just also happen to be eco-fascist assassins-for-hire.

In summary, Sam and Tucker helped Danyal realize the flaws in some of the League's beliefs (the fascism) to the point where he could deconstruct it on his own. Being friends with them made him realize that, frankly, genocide was not the answer to environmental equilibrium, and that the people outside of the League had lives worth living. They also helped quell his arrogance, and just in general influenced him to become kinder even if it doesn't look like that all the time to other people. Sam and Tucker make him laugh, and smile, and just happy.

OG Danyal: wears pretty casual teen clothes. More punky-aesthetic. Has multiple ear piercings. These were self-done. Will have a lip piercing by the time he reunites with Damian, mark my words. Can and will wear muscle tees. Makes puns, jokes, is generally sassy with his friends. Can, will, and has climbed shit he shouldn't be because he enjoys the challenge of scaling a building. It's also very funny seeing Tucker and Sam reenact the "Gregory! HOW DID YOU GET UP THERE?!" meme. Still has a questionable moral compass, but like, he's not an eco-fascist.

This Timeline Danyal: dresses much more sophisticated; dark academia vibe. Closed off, cold. Is 2x more likely to kill someone than OG Danyal, who was frankly, pr kosher with murder already but only if he deemed it extremely necessary. Still an eco-fascist.

Danyal without Sam and Tucker? Still believes in the teachings of the League because he has not been really challenged on them. In fact, he has doubled down on it, actually. Living in the city, growing up estranged and ostracized by his peers, has only strengthened his resolve that all of humanity minus the league (and the Fentons) deserves to be wiped out. He is disgusted by the people around him and desperately wants to go home, even more than the last timeline. The only reason he hasn't is for Damian's sake, but he's been checking in with mother whenever she visits and asking to find a way to come home. She's been steadily wearing down on it; her child is miserable here.

This version of Danyal should not have powers, and is, essentially on the fast track of rejoining the league -- doubly so when he hears Damian is living with father. Clearly it's safe enough for him to be with father, if mother allowed it, and father has become safe enough for Damian to live there. Good. With the threat of two heirs being in the League gone, Danny can return with Mother's permission. And. he probably takes Jazz (and the Fenton parents) with him. Forcibly if he has to.

So Sam has her work cut out for her here, a lot more than in canon, because even when she does tell him that they used to be friends in another timeline, and he believes it, he is not going to give a shit. Clearly they were not as good of friends as she thought they were, if she had wished they never met in the first place. Good riddance, then. This Danny is cold, incredibly hurt, and very closed off.

He is a cave wall in comparison to the Danny Sam knew, and talking to him feels like walking into one. Because he is looking at her with just utter disgust and disdain, keeping a distance like he is revolted by her presence and allergic to her and everyone else's touch.

Which really, really fucking hurts when she knows that in their last timeline, he would actively seek out her and Tucker's company and affection. Sam could read her best friend like an open book, and now its like she's trying to read one in another language she barely speaks. This boy used to smile at her, he used to laugh at Tucker's jokes, and he was so passionate about the things he enjoyed. Now he looks at her like he wants nothing more than for her to drop dead on the spot.

It hurts even more knowing that her last words to her Danny were the words, 'some days i wish we never met'; the way he looked at her afterwards haunts her. For a split second, he looked completely crushed and heartbroken, before his entire body language and expression shut off and he totally closed down on her.

Because by this point in his friendship with her and Tucker, he's told them, he has told them, in a very intimate moment of vulnerability, that they are one of the best things that's happened in his life -- right there alongside the day he first met his baby brother. They are very important to him, and he has finally felt comfortable enough with telling them. There's not a day that goes by that he isn't grateful for their friendship.

So to hear Sam say that some days she wishes they never met? well. That breaks his heart. Just- just a little bit. Sam regrets it the moment it leaves her mouth, and she immediately tries to apologize, but Danny immediately spits back; "Well. I hope you get your wish." and then stalks off.

I'm warring with myself here trying to decide whether or not this new timeline Danyal is at a "point of no return", where nothing Sam says is going to make him attempt to reignite that friendship. Clearly that will end badly anyways, if this is the result of that friendship. He's cut all ties from these people; he feels no prerogative to fix things she broke.

Like, the version of Danyal I'm thinking of here has no close bonds with anyone in the city sans Jazz -- and she? has her own life outside of Danny. She is not his keeper, not his caretaker, and certainly not his therapist. (which i have beef about too, considering how she gets boiled down to 'therapist with no life of her own' but im not going into that.) She has some influence on him, but frankly not enough to really make him challenge his beliefs. Danny cares about her that, if he returns to the league, she is coming with him. Or at the very least, will be spared from the League's goals.

Mmmm. I can't make it a total point of no return though. Sam's very stubborn, and she knows Danny. And while this Danny is still very different, he is still Danny. She'll try and befriend him insistently in a way that might annoy him, but at least not push him away further.

(Tucker, meanwhile, is just soo confused about Sam's very random, very abrupt switch up. Cuz girl he thought you hated this guy? Why are you suddenly trying to get all buddy-buddy with the terrifying Fenton kid. Have you been possessed? Is this some kind of crisis?)

(Sam drags Tucker into befriending Danny because he is the only person she knows that can get him to belly laugh. Tucker is mildly terrified but going along with it.)

Anyways this does end with Sam befriending Danny, or at least getting him to like her long enough that he'll pick up a ghost weapon and face off against Desiree. There's no way in hell he's walking into that portal, that last timeline might have been a 1/billionth chance of it happening and he's not dying for the chance to get powers. And frankly with his training -- which he's probably kept up with even more than the old timeline because he had no one to spend his time with -- he doesn't really need them to be good at fighting them. Just show him how to ghost proof a weapon and he'll handle the rest from there.

But Sam does end up undoing the wish and getting back to her own original timeline in the end. It's the morning after her fight, and the literal first thing she does that morning is get her shoes on and fucking sprriiint to the fenton house. Bursts into tears when she sees Danny and apologizes over and over again. She swears she didn't mean any of it, and to please believe her, and Desiree's still loose and they need to stop her, and she's had the worst time.

She does tell him about the other timeline she just went through, and she hopes that, if it still exists, that that Danyal manages to find friends in the Sam and Tucker there after this. And if not them, then anyone.

Danny's still pretty hurt by what she said, it cut really deep, but he forgives her.

-----

Tucker getting his powers! Frankly things gooo... relatively the same as canon, I think? Actually, no. Danny probably figures out the whole Genie "i wish you would go back into your lamp" thing faster than canon danny since he's not a C student lmao. TV.Tropes doesn't give me too much specifics for a recap on the plot, so we're gonna wing it. For the plot I'm going to say that Tucker gets his powers before Danny figures out the "i wish" thing, which happens relatively quickly.

Danny tries to be... rather supportive of his friend getting powers? Especially since, in comparison to Danny, it was rather painless. However, he's also very suspicious. He doesn't trust the source of Tucker's powers, and warns him to be careful and to let Danny know if he feels off in anyway.

Tucker does end up helping Danny a few times, but the quick progression of his powers and Tucker's willingness to use them more often than not worries him. He reminds him a handful of times that Tucker shouldn't rely on his powers to help -- not even Danny does that. He prefers to use his weapons and martial arts to fight instead. Tucker doesn't listen.

And they end up fighting anyways. Things get resolved, everything turns out okay!

------

Christmas episode straight up just. doesn't happen. Danyal doesn't care enough about the Fenton arguing or about Christmas to be upset about said arguing. He thinks its really childish, but he's not a grinch about all of it.

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Okay it wasn't explicitly mentioned but i have thought about TUE. And I'm trying to think how that would go because it's the result of Danny getting his hands on the math answers and cheating. Which Danyal would not do.

And someone mentioned in the comments on my ao3 under the oneshots there that TUE might just straight up not happen. Which makes sense, Danyal is so different from canon that things don't have to always happen like it did in canon. So that's something I need to chew about, cuz if it does happen, then I'm going to figure out a different way for it to.

[planetatlas]

~ Sanctuary ~ Duncan (TDI)

Summary: You and Duncan are childhood friends. After Duncan leaves for the show he got cast on, Total Drama Island, all the both of you do is count the days until he gets home.

Content: Fluff, you patiently waiting for Duncan to come home, Duncan using his love for you as his coping mechanism for getting through the show.

A/N: I listened to Sanctuary by Joji the entire time I was writing this. Just a bit of childhood friends to lovers fluff.

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It was summertime. Five year old Duncan was currently chasing a five-year-old (Y/N) through the park. The sun was shining, Duncan could barely hear the birds whistling and cars driving by over the wind rushing through his ears as he ran as fast as he could after you. “TAG! You’re it!” He screamed as he finally got close enough to slap your back lightly. He watched you turn around before he took off sprinting the other direction. You were getting closer, and closer, until your little hand began reaching for his arm. You were so close to touching him, just a little further and- 

He felt a slight poking sensation on his butt, then fully woke up when he felt something poke him in the nose. He grabbed whatever was poking him before standing up and snapping it in half. It was a stick. The other members of his team were using a stick to wake him up. He was more than a little irritated, as not only had he warned them not to wake him, but they also used a stick and poked him instead of just shaking him or yelling or literally anything else. On top of that, they interrupted a dream of a fond memory he has of when you two were children. It was the day you two had met. As he demanded an explanation and then proceeded to teach his team how to win dodgeball, you stayed in the back of his mind. He wondered if you were watching him right now. 

~

You watched as Duncan led his team to victory in the dodgeball tournament, this episode’s event. You laughed quietly to yourself at the fact that he managed to turn the tournament into a game of one-sided prison dodgeball. You felt slightly bad watching the other team get demolished, but you were happy for Duncan for winning that episode. As it ended and you turned your TV off, you bid your parents goodbye as you grabbed your things and headed to your room. As happy as you were that Duncan was offered such a big opportunity like this, you also felt lonely. It felt a little selfish, but you missed Duncan a lot. He was basically the only person you talked to, but you tried to keep yourself occupied by talking to and hanging out with your other school friends. You just wished you could communicate with him and see how he was doing. The show he was on looked a little brutal, and you couldn’t help but worry about his well-being. 

~

~

~

This place was starting to get to Duncan. He didn’t show it outwardly, but it was starting to drain him and he felt like he was going insane. He knew the viewers of Total Drama Island probably believed it was all for show, but this show was actually physically dangerous sometimes. The only thing that kept him sane and determined was counting down the days until he got to go home, to you. He sat on the steps of his cabin and watched as everyone mingled about since this was one of the rare moments the cameras weren’t stalking them and they got to hang out together freely. That was another thing that got on his nerves, the constant invasion of privacy. It was all stacking up and causing him way too much stress to be normal. Courtney walked over to him and asked if he was okay, but he shrugged her off, giving her the excuse of being tired and not in the mood to socialize. That was partly true, he only really wanted to socialize with you at the moment. He wondered what you were up to, how you were doing, what you had been doing since he’d left. He wished you were here with him. He then thought about his “relationship” with Courtney. The producers, directors, and Chris thought it would be a great idea, as it would bring in more publicity and spice things up, but Duncan found that he just could not make it real no matter what. However, he knew exactly why he couldn’t feel for Courtney romantically.

She couldn’t compare to you in his eyes. You were the one who held his affection, no one else. 

~

You were sitting in bed, watching YouTube on your laptop. You were having trouble paying attention though, as your mind wandered to Duncan again. The episodes of Total Drama Island were getting more and more shocking and dangerous, and it made you wonder just how much of it was fake. Surely they wouldn’t knowingly endanger several minors to this degree, right? You were just glad that Duncan has made it this far unscathed. It reminded you of when he’d get into fights or hurt himself doing something stupid and you’d be there to patch him up, like always. The distance and inability to contact him was starting to weigh on you a little. You really missed him, but at least you got to see him and hear him talk, even if it was through a TV screen. You were grateful for this, as he wasn’t afforded the same luxury with you.

~

~

~

Duncan laid curled on his bunk, one of your hoodies tucked into his chest. He’d made sure everyone else was asleep before bringing it out, he didn’t want anyone else to get a hold of it, much less know about it. They had done the “Phobia Factor” episode today and it took a lot out of him mentally. Initially, he was scared stiff at the mere idea of hugging a Celine Dion standee, but when he got up to it, memories of you and your comfort gave him the courage to go through with it. Before he hugged it, he just remembered the times when he’d freak out if you two passed one when you were out together, and you would tease him for it. However, when the nightmares would come the night after you always comforted him through them, not a hint of teasing or judgment to be found. He breathed in the smell of your hoodie, which was lavender laundry detergent. The moonlight was shining through the window, hitting the object in his hand perfectly and giving him full visibility to it. It was a locket, to which you had a matching one, with a photo of you in it. As time went on, he felt as though this show was as bad as juvie, with no contact with you. He was grateful he was able to bring your hoodie and the locket this time, since he couldn’t have them in juvie. As he considered it, he’d probably want the items here instead as sometimes this place felt more traumatizing than juvie. The lavender scent from your hoodie lulled him to sleep that night, unaware of someone who happened to catch a glimpse of what he had been holding. 

~

You were struggling to sleep that night. You kept reminiscing on memories of you and Duncan. They were brought up when you watched the most recent episode of TDI. The fact that Duncan actually admitted to his fear of Celine Dion music store standees and had to hug one was hilarious to you. You remembered all the times he would jump when you would pass them, and then you would remember the many nights you had comforted him after a nightmare about the stupid things. It may be a silly fear, but you never looked down on him for it. It was just a part of who he was, and you took it in stride along with everything else. It didn’t change your perception of him, he was still the same guy you loved with all your heart. You then began to wonder about the romance he seemed to have with Courtney. You wondered if it was just some random romance for publicity or if it was real. It looked real enough, but something felt off. Maybe you just knew Duncan too well and could tell when he was acting or wasn’t being sincere about something. You hugged your plushie to your chest, trying to ground yourself and distract your mind from the topic. As you hugged it, you thought about how you got it. It was a plushie Duncan had won you at a carnival a couple of years ago. It was cheesy, just a stuffed rabbit, but it was special. It was the first thing he’d ever gotten you. Whenever you had to be separated from him for a while, or even if the smell would just start to fade, he’d spray his cologne onto it. It was subtle, but it smelt like him. Everything about him smelt like it; his room, his clothes, even his shampoo and conditioner came in the same scent, but it was his and it comforted you. You reached over and opened your matching locket to see the photo you had taken of him one day when he wasn’t paying attention. You fell asleep with the locket still clutched in your hand, which your parent took and put back on your nightstand before turning the lights off when they came to check on you after seeing your light still on. 

~

~

~

Harold, DJ, Geoff, and Owen snuck into the Killer Bass cabin after seeing Duncan walk into the cafeteria hall. They dug around Duncan’s bunk for a moment before DJ pulled out a plain black hoodie. “It smells like lavender,” he informed the others as they gathered around to look at it. Harold then brought up the point, “I mean it’s just a plain black hoodie but I don’t think he’s the kind of guy to use lavender laundry detergent, and it’s weird that we’ve never seen him wear it,” the other boys murmuring in agreement and confusion, wondering why Duncan would have such an item and not wear it. “Look guys! Check this out,” Geoff alerted before pulling a locket out of Duncan’s pillowcase. Owen opened the locket before gasping in surprise. The other boys gathered around and saw a photo of a person in it. They began to question who it was and if they were the reason Duncan wouldn’t pursue Courtney romantically outside of camera view. Then they heard the door slam open. Everyone screamed when they saw Duncan, who looked like he was about to explode. Needless to say, they didn’t attempt to pry into Duncan’s life and warned everyone else not to either, but they didn’t tell anyone what they saw. They felt it was personal and believed it should be Duncan's choice whether or not to talk about it.

~

You were watching the newest episode of TDI with your friends, just talking amongst yourselves when you weren’t glued to what was happening on screen. One of your friends asked you how you were doing with Duncan being gone for the show for so long, and you admitted that it had been a little difficult but you were grateful to them for helping you and keeping you busy. They began teasing you for having a crush on Duncan, saying you were “so in love”. You just rolled your eyes but you kept watching the TV as your eyes would stay glued to Duncan. One of your other friends then asked how you felt about his romance with Courtney, to which you responded saying it didn’t bother you that much seeing as how you weren’t dating and he could make his own choices. You didn’t admit that it did make you quite jealous, as you didn’t feel like it was your place to be.

~

~

~

It had been months since he started TDI. So many people had gotten sent home, and finally, it was his turn. He made it to fourth place, he wished he could’ve won but it’s better than nothing. He was more than a little annoyed when he was brought to Playa Des Losers after being eliminated and seeing how much better it was than Camp Wawanakwa. Despite that, he was trying to enjoy what little time he had there. Since he was fourth, only three more people needed to be eliminated before they all went home which wouldn’t be long. Courtney did approach him at one point, talking to him normally before asking if he wanted to make their romance on the show real. He turned her down politely, stating that he already had feelings for someone else back at home. She inquired if they were dating and if the kiss they shared on the show counted as cheating, but he told her you weren’t dating but he still did it just for the show. She understood, turning to walk over to Bridgette and Geoff sitting by the pool. His mind then swarmed with thoughts of you. He was still counting down the days until he could see you again. The thought of seeing you made his entire body buzz and fill with warmth. 

~

~

~

Seeing Duncan get voted off did sadden you a little, but you were also growing more excited by the day. Duncan came in fourth, which meant the show would end soon. Soon, he’d be back home, back in your arms. You could hardly contain yourself as the days passed by and the show finally ended with Owen being the winner. 

The day of his arrival was finally here and you couldn’t stop bouncing with excitement. You’d been anticipating this for so long. You watched as the plane landed, he’d texted you when the boat brought them back to the mainland telling you he got soaked and had to change before the flight. You laughed at that, and continued to wait patiently. Finally, the plane landed and the contestants began filing out. You stood there anxiously, searching for the green mohawk you’d missed. You noticed a few of the guys from the show do a double take when they saw you, but you figured they just had you confused with someone else. Finally, he came out of the loading dock and when he saw you both of you froze. You didn’t know what to do, you were so overwhelmed with excitement and shock and happiness that your brain stopped functioning for a minute. It seems like his did as well. 

~

When Duncan exited the loading dock and caught sight of you, it felt like time froze. To him, no one else existed at the moment, and how could they when you were finally in front of him? After a minute he shook his head to clear his thoughts, vaguely taking notice of the other former contestants staring at the both of you, but he didn’t have time to process it as he lunged at you, engulfing you in a hug. You hugged him back just as tightly, jumping up as he reached you and wrapping your legs around his waist. His arms flew behind your back and pinned you to him, squeezing so tightly you would think he was trying to suffocate you but you didn’t mind. You two stayed like that for a while before releasing your hold on him and dropping back to the ground. You grabbed him by the hand and said, “Let’s go get your luggage and go home.” All he could do was nod dumbly like a lovesick puppy as he followed you to baggage claim. 

~

~

~

You and Duncan were in your room, laying on your bed with you slightly leaning against stacked pillows and Duncan laying on your front with his head on your chest and your arms around his back. Duncan had music playing softly on your TV, and you were just basking in each other’s presence until Duncan let out a quiet hum. You nudged him to question what he was saying, and he brought his head up to rest his chin on your chest, looking you in the eyes. 

“You know the thing with Courtney wasn’t real right? None of it was.” he questioned you. 

You replied, “Of course I did. I know you well enough to know when something is off,” rolling your eyes at the end. 

Instead of a snarky reply, Duncan simply looked at you thoughtfully. He looked like he was gathering his thoughts and figuring out what to say before opening his mouth. “The fake romance with her did make me realize I need to admit something I’ve been hiding for too long.”

“Oh? And what would that be?”

“That I’m in love with you. The distance and not being able to talk to you or see you didn’t help either.”

You stared at him wide-eyed, mouth slightly open with shock. He watched your reaction for a moment, before disappointment crossed his face and he went to speak again before you stopped him. “Before you say it, don’t be sorry because you didn’t make anything uncomfortable. I’ve been waiting to hear those words for so long.”

He looked shocked for just a second before soft warmth filled his eyes. “Well if I knew you’d been waiting I would’ve told you sooner. In that case, would you go out with me? And do me the honor of going on a date this weekend?”

“Absolutely, I’m all yours,” you smiled gently as you responded to him. He gave you a content look before laying back down onto your chest, beginning to doze off as happiness and love filled his body. He felt like he’d been waiting for this forever, been waiting to be here. He’d been waiting to come home, to you. 

His sanctuary.

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A/N: I loved writing this one, it's just so adorable to me. Feel free to request anything!

[cryptidofthekeys]

A Tiny Star is Born - Mr. Puzzles x Tiny!Reader

Alrighty, finally done with this one! It isn't super long- I mean longer than I expected, but here y'all go, G/T time with Mr. Puzzles! You get a lot more special privileges than anyone else, even members of his crew lmao- he'd just slap them away instead of doing what he's doing with you-

Only trigger warning for this one is that the reader nearly has a panic attack!

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You were sitting there on the couch, you had needed a self care day today as many things have been stressing you out as of recently, and so here you are, with your favorite drinks, snacks, and a weighted blanket to help keep you comfortable, you had seen your favorite streaming service Puzzlevision has uploaded a new episode, you had always loved that streaming service.

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It had a lot of good content, in fact, you were probably the number one fan as not many others watched it for whatever reason and even those who did, didn’t give it high regard, you would also always give the episodes five star ratings.

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It was like a comfort series for you, but either way, you sat there for most of the night, binging some of the previous episodes while eating your snacks, it was cozy and comfortable, and you could feel yourself beginning to relax as you focused on the TV, you could feel your stress melting away already, watching the silly antics going on, you smiled and giggled occasionally.

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You really needed this, this self care day …er, well night was exactly what you needed, as you watched a few episodes, at episode three, you could’ve sworn you seen something on the screen flicker.

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But at first you ignored it, thinking maybe it was just a weird glitch in the program, about halfway into that episode, you could’ve sworn you saw a glimpse of someone standing in the background that you KNEW hadn’t been there before as you’ve watched these episodes already, you shuddered a little, maybe your television was just messing up, or maybe some programming malfunction, it was so brief and so fast whenever it happened and then for the next few episodes, it was normal, you relaxed a bit more now, figuring it was just some glitches.

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You tried not to worry too much about it and continued watching the episodes until you were finally on the new one, excited, you sit up a bit more, still keeping yourself wrapped up in the weighted blanket, you cut the volume up and became fully focused, like you usually had when a new episode dropped.

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And well, it was pretty long, about thirty minutes or more, this episode involved a circus of sorts with all sorts of interesting colorful characters, they were going on wacky wild adventures which entertained you pretty well.

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You finished some of your snacks and the drink you had and for now you sat there and watched, thoroughly enjoying this episode, technically it had been out for a few days now as you hadn’t had time to sit down until you pretty much forced yourself, the episode was pretty sad with the end though, with one character disappearing into nothingness, which broke your heart a little, but even then, you enjoyed this episode a lot!

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You had looked at the ratings of it and frowned, it had even lower ratings than the last one from what the overall public says, it had 3.2 which made you sigh, you didn’t understand why others didn’t like this but oh well, it didn’t matter, what mattered was you liked it.

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You rated it five stars, and as you did, after you rated it and backed out of the website, it came right back up, you tried to close it, it did it again, you raised a brow, what was… Going on with the technology tonight?! You sighed in frustration as at some point your phone shut itself off and you sat it down on the table, and that’s when you noticed, the lights around your house were flickering and when you looked back at your television, you jumped slightly…

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Okay, you DEFINITELY saw a face for a split second there, you saw that one message you’ve seen when they were doing maintenance on the network, it said ‘PUZZLEVISION, PLEASE STAND BY’ and had the logo in the middle, you blinked in confusion but shrugged, maybe there was some kind of power surge going on, and then you yelped and jumped as some of the lights seemed to blow in the house.

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And you were nearly left in pitch black darkness except for the light of the television screen, you hear it beginning to static, the static growing progressively louder with each passing moment, and then those color bars appeared along with a beep that honestly made your ears ring.

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You were completely confused and beginning to grow frightened, this wasn’t… Normal… This wasn’t just a glitch… And then your suspicions were confirmed, as suddenly a face popped up on the television screen, a colorbar shaped into a smile, white eyes, two funky shaped eyebrows, and well you screamed in horror which made the face change into one of shock before you heard a voice speak...

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“Ah…! There you are! I’ve been waiting for you to log back on to Puzzlevision’s streaming service! C’mere” And then before you knew it, you heard a squelching sound and then saw a huge hand reaching for you from the TV.

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You naturally panicked and freaked out, immediately dropping the weighted blanket and trying to run, you had managed to get to the front door and you had gotten it open before you screamed as you were grabbed by the massive hand, it was a gentle grasp but you were completely engulfed and then before you knew it, you felt yourself being pulled back and into the television.

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You screamed and struggled, trying to fight off whatever the hell has grabbed a hold of you, you heard something that sounded like someone snapping their fingers and then you heard your front door close and lock.

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And then suddenly, you heard a bubbling sound and then… It was completely silent, you were encased in the giant hand, it was completely dark, and you were breathing heavily, and panicking, trying to squirm free, and then you heard a bunch of television static, and then suddenly, you felt the hand uncurling from you but gripping around your waist to ensure you didn’t go anywhere.

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You gasped and immediately looked around frantically, you saw some sort of weird television themed dimension, it was weird, and hard to focus fully on, but you could see TV sets floating around this strange space looking dimension.

------------------------------------------------------- You were shaking and breathing heavily and about to have a panic attack but then you heard a voice “Hey, hey! My dear…! Relax, just look at me, all eyes on me~!” The voice cheerfully spoke, and then you slowly looked to where you heard that voice and your eyes went wide, you looked up, and saw a… Giant television in front of you, it was that same face you had seen on your own TV set just a few moments ago.

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You could see the television was gray, had some dials and buttons, clearly an old model of television, he wore a black bowler hat, and had two antennas atop it, one shaped like a lightning bolt, he was also dressed very fancy in mostly gray, black, and white.

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Your mouth fell agape in shock, your panic somewhat dying down as you realized just who you were staring at, as it finally struck you…

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And well, the TV humanoid’s screen changed to show a more smug face “Ah, you recognize my handsome face now, my dear little star?” You were shocked as your struggles died down to some degree even though you were still nervous “...Y-You… You’re… M-M-M-M…” And then the TV headed humanoid’s face flickered to some annoyance by you being too shocked to speak clearly before his screen showed that smug look again.

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“Yes, yes, that’s right… The common denominator…! The most handsomest, and amazing host of ALL your favorite shows… MR. PUZZLES!” His face flickered to a grin that honestly looked a little unsettling.

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You were completely surprised by this, not only were you meeting the man behind Puzzlevision itself but also the man responsible for creating your favorite television shows and movies, you were meeting an… Idol essentially, but the thing that was the most shocking was just how huge this dude was, he was LITERALLY a giant, in fact he had to be 90 to a 100ft tall, he was holding you a gloved palm like you were weightless.

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It was… Scary… He brought you closer to the screen “My my, absolutely flabbergasted by my presence are we? I know, I know~ I’m quite wonderful, but, aside from that…! I want you to relax, I am not here to harm you or anything vile like that!”

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“No no, in fact, YOU my dear… You are the one who's been rating my shows with a PERFECT five stars, have you not?” And before you could speak, he chuckled, his face flickering to a happy smile “Of course you are! Well, I’m here to personally thank you! I do… Apologize for frightening you so, I er…” And then his face shifted to an annoyed and potentially embarrassed look.

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“...I’ll be honest, I do sometimes forget just how horrifying it could be to see a giant hand emerging from your television screen and then… Snatching you up, my intentions really were NOT to frighten you! In fact, I have a proposal of sorts for you in mind!”

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And then you were about to ask but once again, Mr. Puzzles spoke, he seemed to have realized something “Oh, where are my manners though, I’ve told you my name, which you obviously knew, but I’m afraid I don’t know your name, so what is it my little star?” You took a moment, squinting your eyes as you expected to be interrupted but Mr. Puzzles gestures for you to go on, his face going back to that smug look and so you spoke, still a bit shaky from the whole ordeal as you rested on Mr. Puzzles’ palm.

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“M-My name is… (Y/N)” And this made him snicker a bit “Ah, I see, this is a reader insert fanfiction where you can enter your own name…” You blinked a few times “. . .What?” And then he shook his head, his face going back to a smile.

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“Oh never you mind that, my little star! Just talking to myself… Anyways! It’s truly a pleasure to meet you, (Y/N), you’re QUITE a big fan of my show, and I must say I am honored by that…” And then Mr. Puzzles snapped his fingers and the television sets around all changed to the website, to show your ratings specifically, showing all those five stars you’ve given.

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“You’ve given me five stars on every episode so far, and even though the overall audience would… Disagree” His face flickered to show annoyance before flickering back “Your opinions of my show have NOT gone unnoticed!”

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Mr. Puzzles then leans in closer to get a better look at your tiny form, he seems to be pondering something, he seems to get a good idea but he doesn’t say much, waiting for you to speak now.

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

You take a moment to recompose yourself, you take some deep breaths and then finally you speak “I- Um… Well, I’m… Glad I could at least help, with my ratings but… …What does that… Have to do with anything? Why did you take me? And also, you… H-How are you so gigantic?”

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Mr. Puzzles pauses for a moment before chuckling “Well now, aren’t we full of questions, naturally so, either way, I’ll answer the simple one first, how I’m so gigantic, it’s simple really, I can grow my body or shrink it to whatever size I please” . . . That… Really didn’t make sense to you but then you looked around at the weird dimension you were in and looked at the being responsible for your favorite shows.

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…Eh, maybe some things didn’t need to be questioned too much… And then Mr. Puzzles’ screen flickered, showing that wide colorbar grin that unsettled you a little, he leaned even closer, his huge screen nearly touching you, the light from it was… Bright and warm, it was… Somewhat comforting “You wanna know why I chose you…? It’s very simple, my little star… Seeing how you're such a big fan of mine and how many times you’ve watched all those episodes”

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And just like that, the television sets around you flickered to show you, to show you on your couch or in other areas watching those shows and okay that was… Creepy.

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“I figured I would make you a little proposition… So, (Y/N)... How would you like to star… In your very own show?!” Mr. Puzzles spoke excitedly, he saw your surprise, and waited for a response, you thought about it, but were a bit unsure “...I-I don’t know… I-” And then Mr. Puzzles cut you off, a smug look on his face “Think about it…! You could be a star, aligned to my vision of course, we could create something PERFECT here!”

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And then you took a few moments to think about it further, and well… It’s not like you had anything better to do, you just hoped it wouldn’t stress you out too much, on the positive side, you’d get to be working with the creator of Puzzlevision himself “...Y’know what …Sure…”

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Mr. Puzzles’ had a grin on his face, but it wasn’t that unsettling one, he seemed completely delighted “Fantastic! Then… A Tiny Star is Born!” And then he chuckled, muttering something under his breath “…Also funnily enough the title to this story…” Before you could question it, he held you carefully in his gloved hands and spun around happily with you.

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“My dear, you and I will create something wonderful together! Come, come, let’s get started!” You smiled a little, while he could be a bit… Eccentric and honestly a little unsettling looking at times, Mr. Puzzles seemed genuinely nice enough.

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And then you heard him snap his fingers and suddenly, the setting around you changed, it looked like a dressing room of sorts, Mr. Puzzles finally sets you down in the chair, giving your head a little pat with his finger “Now darling~! It’s time to tell you what you’re going to be doing” And then he snapped his fingers again and suddenly, a script appeared in your lap.

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“This is going to be a tale of action… Adventure! Comedy! …Maybe some tragedy… And who knows, maybe even… Romance~!” And he winked when he said that which made you blush a little before you opened the script and began to read it.

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Judging from what the script says, it’s about you getting imprisoned in a cage of sorts by an evil giant, and you have to escape from there, and then your adventure will unfold once free.

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Mr. Puzzles then smiled, clasping his hands together as he looked down at your tiny form, he bent down “Just read over your script and rehearse for as long as you need to, mkay? After all, you can’t just rush perfection~ And when you’re done, some of my assistants will help you with your costume! Good luck, my little star!” And then with a snap of his fingers, Mr. Puzzles disappeared...

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Leaving you alone to catch your breath and take a bit to fully process what was happening, you had essentially been kidnapped by not only a giant TV headed humanoid, but also the man who just happens to be the one behind Puzzlevision itself and he had just essentially hired you as an actor.

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And yet here you were, sitting in the chair, looking at yourself in the mirror, which, you noticed while the room was giant sized, a lot of the objects were perfectly sized for you, everything seemed to have been customized to fit your size, you weren’t complaining though, at least Mr. Puzzles was considerate enough …Either way, you looked down at the script and sighed, smiling a little, this couldn’t be all bad, after all.

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You had met your idol and you were going to be working with him! This gave you determination, excitement, and so you began to read through the entire script, reading the idea, fixating on it much like you did with those shows, you would also rehearse your lines over and over again until they were memorized.

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During this time because well, nobody could just memorize all that in a day, Mr. Puzzles would pop in and check up on your progress and offer you some supporting words, and also obviously giving you something to eat and drink as well as even offering you breaks from time to time, during these breaks, you two would actually get to know more about each other, Mr. Puzzles would let you sit in his palm, you’d talk about yourself.

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And he’d talk about himself …A LOT, although, you noticed despite his egotistical nature that he seemed to genuinely listen to you, in fact, you noticed with any other crew, he’d listen to you more so instead of constantly interrupting and talking over.

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What seemed to stun everyone the most is the fact that Mr. Puzzles listened to YOUR ideas and actually liked them or implemented them into the show they were planning, because according to the crew, he NEVER listened to anyone aside from himself, he’d barely even listen to his own audience, you took notice that you got… Some special privileges, and then finally, after a while of rehearsing, some tweaking of the script, costume design, and all that.

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It was time… Mr. Puzzles appeared, hands clasped together and a smug look on his face “Alright, my dear little star! It’s time for your big debut! It’s time for you to shine!” You smiled and nodded, all dressed up as the man picked you up, holding you gently in his gloved palms, his face flickered back to a smile.

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You knew how badly Mr. Puzzles wanted to hit a full five star rating on his show, and you knew he could be… VERY much a perfectionist but he seemed to lighten up with you around “Yeah, maybe you’ll get the five stars this time, I uh, I’ll definitely do my best to help you, Mr. Puzzles” And the TV headed humanoid paused momentarily before smiling with his head tilted to the side.

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He pats your head affectionately “D’aww… Aren’t you sweet? You’ll do fantastic! After all, a face like yours was made for television, if I do say so myself~” And you blushed a bit at that and then… It was time…

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Mr. Puzzles heard a crew announce that and then he sets you down gently, he ushers you along with some big fingers “Now go on my dear! You can do this, you’ll look fantastic!” Mr. Puzzles praises which gives you some confidence and you nod, and then you were heading out there, it was… A bit nerve wracking, you were worried deep down of failing, disappointing or worse, upsetting Mr. Puzzles as well.

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You had seen how the man could be, sure his anger nor disappointment had NEVER been directed at you so far but seeing that one face… Those realistic eyes and lips, it was… Horrifying to say the least.

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You just tried to do your best, once the cameras were rolling, you played your part, an innocent tiny human who had been captured by a giant, taken to a castle, and shoved into a cage, well, you supposed he was handsome to you as Mr. Puzzles tended to star in his own shows a lot, you acted out your part, the other gigantic being acting out theirs, you had no idea where they even came from but you didn’t question it.

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Then came the scene of the giant about to grab you from your cage before, they had fallen over as if knocked out, and well, sure enough, here comes Mr. Puzzles, playing the hero, a hand extends to you, which you had been told to act fearful of at first to the script.

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…It was… Hard to truly be fearful when you trusted him as much as you did, and then Mr. Puzzles spoke, his voice dramatic …Well, more dramatic than usual “No no, my dear…! Don’t be frightened, I am here to save you from this monstrous creature…! Climb onto my hand, and I shall free you from your gruesome fate…!” You acted hesitantly like you had rehearsed, acting hesitantly as you walked over to the massive palm splayed out in front of you.

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And then you slowly climbed onto it and you were lifted up to see the face …Well, the screen of your savior, you saw the smug smile on his screen and well, you genuinely blushed, you couldn’t help it, and you had even seen some blush on his screen as well, it wasn’t… A part of the script but it added to the scene.

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And then, Mr. Puzzles was about to take you away from there before the giant began to wake up, and then a battle ensued, Mr. Puzzles had set you down, standing in front of you protectively, it took you every fiber of your being not to roll your eyes at how dramatic he was when speaking “Don’t worry my dear! I’ll keep you safe! You have nothing to fear!” Mr. Puzzles and the giant fought.

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A clash of titans if you would… You of course went and hid behind one of the containers on the shelf as that’s what was scripted, the fight lasted for about twenty minutes or so before Mr. Puzzles came out on top, he stood over the fallen giant victoriously.

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And then Mr. Puzzles walked back over to you, breathing heavily for the effect, he then extended a huge palm down to the table “Come now, my dear, let me get you out of here” And then you stepped out, and began walking toward the palm, looking up at him, you climbed onto it and then he began to walk out of the castle, walking and taking one last look back on the fallen giant, after walking out, that ended the scene.

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And another version of him sitting in a chair yelled “CUT!” You honestly didn’t know how he could do what he did, but then again, magic was already a pretty nonsensical thing, you had stopped questioning things upon first meeting him to be honest.

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That copy had disappeared in dramatic fashion after that and the real Mr. Puzzles holding you currently held you up and began to swing you around carefully and gently “My dear little star! You have such talent! I just KNEW I picked the perfect actor for my shows!” You smiled, your face slightly reddened at those words, you had hoped this would help Mr. Puzzles get to five stars as you knew how badly he had wanted it.

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

In fact, during the time you two had spent together, he had confided in you just how badly he wanted to hit that five star rating, he had even mentioned something that if he hit those five stars then nothing would ever be the same again.

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You really hoped you could help him achieve this dream of his and then Mr. Puzzles set you down, his screen flickering to that happy grin of his, it was the less unsettling one, you noticed how his eyes seemed to move about during it, it was a cute expression …Although you definitely had your favorite expression of his, you wouldn’t say that out loud though, and then he set you down on the ground “Alrighty! Why don’t you go and take a breather, (Y/N)? After all, I’m sure you’re exhausted after that wonderful performance!"

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You nodded, he was right, you were exhausted after all that, especially from all the nervousness you felt deep down, you headed off to your own little room that Mr. Puzzles had designed specifically for you.

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You did wonder if he planned to keep you here forever or something, after all, you did have a home to go back to, you maybe needed to talk to him about that… …For now, you sat in your room that was perfectly customized to your size, you sighed and took some deep breaths, you decided to grab yourself something to snack on and drink and then you sat down on the couch, you needed some stress relief, so you decided to read a book.

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

After all, usually after shows were filmed, Mr. Puzzles would be gone for a bit, you assumed he was keeping up with the ratings and well making sure everything was in order, he seemed to be on top of everything that goes on here, he seemed to be in control of everything here judging from the looks of it.

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

You read your book for a bit before moving onto playing some video games, you did that for a little bit, and then finally, you listened to some music, all of these activities easing your stress, although, there was a lingering fear deep down in the back of your head, worrying that you hadn’t done a good job, that Mr. Puzzles would be angry with you if he didn’t hit those five stars...

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Even if he had never shown any signs of anger to you, you definitely had a lot more special privileges compared to the other crew members and actors, in fact, you were the one Mr. Puzzles hung out with a lot, he rarely ever hung out with the others, if he did, it was mostly for appearance’ sake.

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He could be egotistical a LOT, he was a perfectionist, he had a lot of… Questionable traits in all fairness but as you sat there listening to music, you kept thinking of the TV headed humanoid, you had been here already for… Well, a long time, Mr. Puzzles had said you had been here for about a week when you asked, which on one hand you REALLY needed to get back to your home because you just know you had some cleaning to do amongst other things.

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

But on the other you didn’t… Necessarily want to leave here either, the reason is because even during the week you had spent here, you had saw Mr. Puzzles less as an idol, but more so… As a crush, you were developing feelings for him.

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

You thought back to just a few moments ago, when the two of you had blushed at one another, you thought about that damn face, that damn smug look he oh so loved to wear all the time… Even now, when you were alone, just thinking about it made your face blush, you groaned as you plopped down on the couch, laying down and placing your hands over your face.

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

You were falling in love with the TV headed humanoid and you felt silly for it, after all, hell, you doubted he felt anything like THAT toward you, sure, he liked you and gave you special privileges and… . . . Wait… Did he also have feelings for you? You shot up from the couch, thinking about that now.

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

And the more you thought about that the more you began to realize that maybe he did have a thing for you, you wouldn’t assume obviously, but it would make plausible sense, before you could question it further though, suddenly, you had been teleported out of your room and grabbed up by a giant gloved hand like usual, you yelped and panicked just a little bit from the suddenness of it and before you could even try to speak or protest...

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Mr. Puzzles was spinning around with you again, and okay, this time it was making you pretty dizzy, the TV headed humanoid wasted no time in telling you what the deal was “My dear little star! Look!” He pointed at his own television screen, and it flickered.

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This time, not showing a face but he showed the episode that had just dropped with you in it, and your eyes widened, you looked shocked, the episode had a full five stars, everyone, even some of those executives that had criticized the show so harshly were stunned with their reviews of it, they had even given it a five stars, the overall opinion of the public was that this show was very good, and this meant you had helped him.

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

You had helped Mr. Puzzles achieve his dream, and that made you ecstatic, now you understood why he was spinning you around “H-Hah…! We did it!” You were happy, finally, the streaming service and the shows you had such a passion and love for, now people seemed to understand.

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Mr. Puzzles’ faces flickered between each one except the scary and annoyed expression, he seemed like he was going to overload with happiness unless he calmed down, he tried to calm down and recompose himself, his face going back to a regular smile “Yes! I finally got my five stars, and it’s thanks to you, my dear! I just knew I made the right decision by taking you with me, with you by my side, we’ll be unstoppable! The whole WORLD will tune into Puzzlevision to watch our shows!”

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It was not often, if at all that Mr. Puzzles would give anyone else aside from himself the spotlight, the credit, but he seemed to be ecstatic by the thought of sharing the fame if it meant sharing it with you.

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You were happy, and you hadn’t realized there were some tears forming in your eyes, because well, knowing you had helped him succeed, that took a lotta nervousness off that you had been feeling, Mr. Puzzles quickly noticed this, and his face flickered to an expression you hadn’t seen before, a face of genuine concern and worry “(Y/N)? My favorite little actor… What’s wrong? Have I been holding you too tightly? Did the swaying scare you?”

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

You were quick to shake your head “N-No, I just… I’m just… Really glad I helped you, I-I uh, I won’t lie to you, Mr. Puzzles… I-I was… Kinda nervous, anxious about…” And you paused, unsure whether you should admit this.

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

But, Mr. Puzzles looked like he wanted to know what you were about to say, in fact, he wasn’t interrupting you, and well, you couldn’t lie to him or hide that forever, so you sighed and decided to open up just a bit “...I-I just, I was worried… That i-if I didn’t, um, get you to five stars, that you’d… Get angry with me” And Mr. Puzzles gasps, his face flickering to one of surprise but he understood why you’d think that, and then he brought you closer to his screen.

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A warm smile on his face as he held you in his giant gloved palm “Oh my dear little star… My sincerest, I… Know I must have put a LOT of stress on you during those times, and while, true, I do get angry with some of my staff…”

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Mr. Puzzles begins to gently stroke your head with his other hand, using a finger since he didn’t want to accidentally squish your tiny form “I would never take my anger out on you…! You… …Well, as cliché as it may sound, you are… Special to me, not just my favorite actor obviously, I…” And then he paused, seemingly trying to find the words, his screen flickered, and well, he awkwardly stuttered which is rare for someone as confident as him.

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And his screen had pink where his cheeks would be “...W-Well I… Erm, I… I value… You…” His words sound a bit robotic before a flicker of annoyance crosses his face and he sighs before finally speaking properly “I… I really do value your company, you make this space feel… LESS lonely”

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You looked up at Mr. Puzzles, processing his words, you felt his finger reach up to wipe your tears gently away and that made you smile and blush slightly yourself, you reached out to hold his finger, your hand could just barely fit around the gloved appendage because of your small stature, while you did need to address the fact that you also needed to go home …At least every once in a while.

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You could do that later, as it seems Mr. Puzzles had an idea, as he pulled his free hand back “Here, I know just the way to make it up to you” And with a snap of his fingers, the space around you two changed, into a much cozier setting.

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It was your home but, big enough to accommodate Mr. Puzzles’ huge height, a place where you felt at your most comfortable and safe, he snapped his fingers again and a weighted blanket formed around you, wrapping securely around you, some of your comfort foods and drinks appeared if you wanted, Mr. Puzzles then holds you close to his chest, and well.

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

You can hear a heartbeat, it makes you wonder about Mr. Puzzles anatomy, just how did the man work exactly…? He was a TV headed humanoid, did he have a real heart or was he just imitating a heartbeat to give you comfort? Either way, it was a very nice gesture.

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Mr. Puzzles looked down at you with a warm smile and a blush on his face “Let’s just enjoy some quiet time together my dear little star” You nodded at that, feeling utterly relieved to have the pressure taken off and to just be able to relax, you sat there in the palm of the TV headed humanoid’s hand, he gently stroked your hair in an affectionate manner.

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You hadn’t had much time to think about it since you had been working for the last week or so with Mr. Puzzles but, now you were paying attention to just how tiny you were in the palm of his hands, you fit perfectly in them, you felt… Comfortable and safe, despite how unhinged the man could be.

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

You have seen some of his more… Unhinged moments play out as the week had unfolded obviously, and well, he could definitely be intense but he never seemed like that to you…

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You watched as Mr. Puzzles looked down at you, even the way he looked at you compared to others was different, he had a soft, gentle expression on his face, he did give you that smug look sometimes but that just made your heart swoon whenever he did, and you had a feeling he knew that because he loved to pull that face on you more often.

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In fact, his screen flickered to that face as if he had read your mind, he didn’t speak but he was smugly staring down at you, he adored attention and oh boy, did he love your attention on him like this.

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You felt the warmth of Mr. Puzzles screen bearing down on you, it wasn’t overwhelming or super hot, just a pleasant warmth that made you feel comforted, you knew your parents had once told you not to sit too close to the TV many times but, well, considering how things are now, you wouldn’t mind sitting close to THIS television, it’s something you could get used to.

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You snuggled a bit closer in the giant TV headed humanoid’s palm and you saw his screen flicker for a split second, he seemed surprised that you were so comfortable, so trusting around him but then he had a genuine smile and a pink blush on his screen.

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You two didn’t speak, but you didn’t have to, the looks on your faces, the atmosphere of the room spoke for itself, Mr. Puzzles gently reached his free hand down, stroking your cheek with a huge finger, you allowed this to happen, even nuzzling slightly into the touch, it felt… Nice, you felt completely safe and trusting in these giant hands.

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You reached out to gently pat his finger, as a silent thank you, pausing slightly when you looked at your own hand just compared to one of his fingers alone, you were pretty fascinated by the size difference, even though Mr. Puzzles had said he could shrink or grow whenever he felt like it.

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You had questioned to yourself at some point why he stayed this height, in fact at some point during the week you had asked why he stayed that height and he gave you a strange answer, yet another weird thing of mentioning a story of sorts, he had said something along the lines of ‘Oh, that’s because this story wouldn’t exactly be an x Tiny!Reader if I wasn’t giant’ . . . You REALLY needed to ask him to explain what he meant by all that because it had just confused you completely.

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But for now, you were beginning to grow sleepy, you yawned and Mr. Puzzles seemed to catch on to it, and well his screen flickered for a moment before going back to his smile, and then, soft, relaxing music began to play.

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You smiled, appreciative of that as you lay down on the palm of his hands, he continued to stroke your head gently, keeping you held securely to his chest, the steady rhythm of a heartbeat that you didn’t know was real or synthetic but either way, the steady rhythm helped further relax you, you snuggled into both his palm and the weighted blanket, you began to close your eyes, you felt the warm glow and light of his screen on you.

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You could tell he was looking at you, and well, Mr. Puzzles wouldn’t deny, to him, you looked absolutely adorable like this, he was… Awkward with admitting any feelings he may have, hell, he had been awkward trying to tell you that you mattered to him in general.

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You then spoke finally, your soft sleepy voice echoing out “...Goodnight, Mr. Puzzles…” And then Mr. Puzzles chuckled softly, patting your head “...Goodnight, my dear little star… Sleep well…” And then you finally fell asleep, safe and sound in the palm of his hands.

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(Woo boy gfjdhgdfsk be glad y'all get the fluff- bc oh man I have a lotta angsty ideas for this sadistic tv headed freak /vpos but legit I do have a lot of fun writing g/t stuff, a part of me misses doing that for characters but genuinely I hope y'all enjoy!)

[sundrop-writes]

Your First Kiss With Jason Todd

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader

Summary:

Jason always thought he hated you. He did hate you.

Until he didn't.

Until his love for you ruined him in ways he couldn't even imagine.

Jason Todd x Gender Neutral Reader. Frenemies to Lovers. Pure Angst (Hurt, No Comfort). Set during Season 3.

Word Count: 8,200

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: This fic is almost entirely angst - hurt, no comfort. This fic does not have a happy ending!!! So be warned of that before you enter here. Jason and the reader are described as ‘hating’ each other, but they are more like frenemies/annoyances - they have a playful banter (at the time, even they don’t know that they like arguing because it’s sexual tension and passion for each other); the reader is completely gender neutral - the only pronouns used for the reader are you/yours; this is mostly written from Jason’s POV (which is where most of the angst comes from); Jason describes himself as a ‘zombie’ or ‘half-alive’ - but he is fully alive and has all of his mental faculties, he is just freaked out about the fact that he was resurrected; the reader does not have any meta powers, but is described as being very good at combat (this does not denote the reader’s body type); mentions of sex and some sexual themes - but there is no outright smut and no detailed descriptions of sex; mentions of negative stereotypes surrounding frat boys/frat houses - including STDs and group sex (mentioned in a negative light); mentions of Jason masturbating (and thinking about the reader while doing it); mentions of Jason’s canon trauma (being kidnapped and tortured by Deathstroke, dropped off the building); mentions of Jason being killed by the Joker (and being ressurected by Crane); mentions of the reader mourning Jason’s death; mentions of drugs and drug addiction (based around the canon storyline of the anti-fear gas); mentions of Jason’s trauma surround his mother’s drug addiction; mentions of Jason killing Hank (as in the canon); the reader is kidnapped (by Crane or someone who works for Crane) and held hostage, and later rescued by Jason; somewhat graphic descriptions of violence (Jason beating up Crane, other background instances), gory descriptions of a death toward the end (mentions of acid burns and choking on non-breathable air); major character death - the reader character does die. Like I said - no happy ending. Sorry not sorry.

A/N: This is set during Season 3 - and this does feature spoilers for Season 3 if you haven't seen Titans before. So if you wanna watch the show spoiler free, definitely avoid this fic. I was imagining this to be set around episode 6 or episode 7, before Crane's plan to use the ice cream factory is taken down by the Titans, but obviously Jason breaking away from Crane's control so early goes against the canon - so there's that. Also, if you wanna pair some music with this for something truly heartbreaking, I would highly recommend the classic Running Up That Hill by Kate Bush, or the highly underrated Colorado Sunrise by 3OH!3 (the lyrics are way more depressing than people realize, and I love it as a whump song. oomf). I also feel like the song Cloud 9 by Beach Bunny would go so well with this fic, but in like - the most devastating way. I haven't written something this cruel since I wrote Ghosting and I had so much fun doing it. You can't leave me alone with whump for too long, I turn into a monster. I need to go back to smut again quickly lmao.

...

Jason Todd was in love with you. 

It was something that he hated himself for. Actually, it was one of the most infuriating, devastating facts in the world. But it was true. You were someone who was so entirely amazing. You were beautiful - literally the hottest person Jason had ever met who wasn’t photoshopped or catered to be some unrealistic daydream. You were clever and smart and strong. You could kick anybody’s ass on any day of the week and still have enough energy left to tell them how much of an idiot they were and list all of the reasons why. 

And you would definitely never love Jason back. There wasn’t a snowball’s chance in hell that he could ever have someone like you. 

So he kept all of that stupid, idiotic love to himself. It was a secret that he had sworn to die with - and technically, he already had. 

Jason tried not to linger on the very fucked up, seemingly impossible fact that he had come back from the dead. And now he was existing as some weird, fucked up zombie thing - resurrected from having his skull caved in by the Joker to do Jonathan Crane’s bidding. This definitely wasn’t what Jason would have wanted out of a renewed life - but hey: when an Arkham prisoner gives you rotten lemons. 

When Jason wasn’t beating down drug dealers, stealing money, or strapping bombs to people - when he was trying his hardest not to focus on the fact that he had died and he was now living some strange half-life, reliant on Crane’s drugs, he was thinking about you. He thought about you a lot. 

He hadn’t come into contact with you since his strange foray back into the land of the living. That was probably for the best. He knew that you had freshly come back to Gotham, upon Dick’s request. Nightwing had called for backup from all the ex-Titans to help end Red Hood’s reign of terror. Jason wanted to stay as far away from you as possible. 

Genuinely, he didn’t want you getting caught in the crossfire of whatever Crane was planning. He wished you had stayed out of Gotham, but he knew that you were too loyal, too good not to come to the aid of the Titans when they needed you. He couldn’t reveal himself to you just for a taste of nostalgia - one last argument before you sold him down the river for good. But fuck - he thought about you a lot. 

When the two of you had first met, you were the last person he ever thought that he would surrender that stupid, soft label of love to. Even months into first knowing you - he would have said that he hated you. He would have told anybody that he found you to be the most annoying person on earth. 

Your relationship used to be the worst kind of dance. 

Every single time that Jason opened his mouth, you said something to contradict him. To a point, he believed that you didn’t even fully stand behind the things you said - you just enjoyed arguing against him. That you did it for sport. You used every single last bit of your time and energy to get under his skin. From mocking him to calling him a fuckboy to prodding at his grammar, poking holes in his points by smugly correcting him. He always found you to be the most infuriating person in any room. But it seemed that the more frustrated he got with you, the more cool headed you remained. 

He tried to mock you back, and you shrugged it off. Every time he became visibly annoyed in your presence - you giggled. He wanted to strangle you. 

And it was one fated day that he realized the line between heat fueled by frustration and heat fueled by lust truly weren’t that different. 

… 

“Jason! I thought I smelled you coming down the hall!” 

Jason groaned when he heard you make this comment. 

He thought that for once, he could have some peace to train alone - but it appeared that he would have no such luck. You were already in the training room, holding a long bo-staff as you ran some drills. Apparently, you were eager to exercise your mouth too - already whipping off clever insults the minute that Jason entered the room. 

When all he could muster was a glare in your direction, you let out a giggle. His blood boiled. 

“Between that god awful Axe body wash and that alcohol based aftershave that you like to drown yourself in, you smell like a walking frat house.” You continued, blabbering on even though Jason had made no efforts to engage you. At least not yet. “Just throw in some Busch Light and weed, and I might be able to catch gonorrhea just from the stench.” 

That was the nerve that hooked Jason into the conversation. First of all - he smelled fucking delightful. He always made hygiene one of his personal priorities. He was absolutely not one of those guys with crusty, sweaty balls. And second of all - he was not one of those STD spreading manwhores. He was clean in all senses. He always used a condom. 

“Sounds like you’ve got experience with that.” Jason quipped back. 

He looked to you for some kind of reaction, some inkling that he had gotten under your skin even a fraction of the way that you did his. His movements were rough with annoyance as he began wrapping his knuckles with tape so he could have a few rounds with the heavy bag - mostly out of a need to pound out his frustration on something. He was getting too angered with your presence in the room and not wanting to snap and take it out on you. (He already had enough on his record with Bruce, and despite popular opinion - he was trying to improve.) 

When you weren’t quick to respond, Jason continued. 

“You used to letting frat boys all over you? You seem like the type of person who would enjoy a good, sloppy frat house train. Twenty guys, one after the other, none of them knowing your name, just because you’re so needy for a good fuck.” 

Jason grinned, feeling like he had won this conversation with the essence of shock alone. 

But no. As always, you remained cool. You grinned right back at him, stepping toward him, crowding into his personal space as you said your next words in a low, smooth voice. 

“Sounds like you spend an awful lot of time picturing me running a train.” You smirked. “Is that why you’re always so late getting up in the morning? You wake up and the first thing you do is get a hand on your dick, imagining me getting fucked by a lineup of guys? Probably just wishing that one of them was you.” 

Jason’s face fell flat. 

You were so strikingly confident in your words that it made his stomach twist. Facing him down, speaking such filthy words without flinching - embarrassment and heat collided inside of him. Even more so with what you did next. 

You put a hand out in front of your crotch, mimicking the motions of jacking off while you mocked him in a broken voice. 

“Oh, oh fuck Y/N! Come on! Take my sloppy, frat house cock!” 

You then mocked a whiny series of moans that must have been Jason’s fake orgasm - and while Jason’s insides bubbled with a confusing heat, you quickly dissolved off into laughter. 

“Shut up.” Jason snapped, forcing his eyes down to focus on the process of taping himself up - praying that you wouldn’t see the heat that had spread across his cheeks. “You’re the fucking worst.” 

“Only when I’m with you.” You replied, blowing him a kiss - to which he stuck his middle finger up at you. 

He was eternally thankful when you went back to your own training in silence, only taking occasional glances up in his direction. 

… 

After that point, Jason had to admit to himself that he was attracted to you, at the very least. He could no longer deny that you were insanely attractive; you were a very, very hot person. And somehow, even past your annoying habits, he was being drawn into the orbit of your gorgeous looks and your wonderfully cocky, filthy mouth. 

But he still hated you. He definitely still hated you. 

He hated it even more when you became right - and you did become the object of some of his more heated fantasies. He became downright annoyed at the times he had his hand around his cock and imagined himself hate fucking you - imagined forcing every cocky retort out of your mouth, imagining you breathless and needy beneath him, begging for more with every hard push of his hips. 

He hated how everything changed after Doctor Light. 

Jason wasn’t thinking about your stupid beautiful cocky mouth after that. His mind was full of glass and he was being shredded from the inside out. He came home broken. After everything that happened with Deathstroke and Doctor Light - he was some fragile bird; some chewed up, used, pitiful thing. He didn’t have the energy to fight you anymore, not even for sport. 

So after he was rescued, still floating in numbness, he didn’t know what to do when you burst into his room unannounced. You practically shoved the door off its hinges, and stormed across the room toward him - tears hot in your eyes. You pounded curled fists against his chest, screaming at the top of your lungs. Half of your words were static in his ears, but the tone of your voice pierced through his heart like an arrow. You called him stupid, asking where in his empty head he had gotten the idea to go off by himself. 

Jason didn’t have it in him to fight you. So he broke down. 

He felt like the world’s biggest idiot for crying in front of you. But his throat was tight and he choked on the tears - he was too tired. He just couldn’t hold them back. He screamed back, and asked you to lay off. To get off his fucking back. 

You looked shocked. Like you had swallowed a piece of glass. 

You surprised him when you uncurled your fists and wrapped the most tender, gentle hands around his back, and for the first time since he had known you - you embraced him in a hug. He was weak and he needed it more than he was willing to admit, so he let you. He sobbed against your neck, his own cries too loud that he missed the timid sound of your apology. 

That wasn’t the only time you surprised him that week. 

He knew it was because he was some broken little bird, but you started taking care of him. You brought him plates of food without being asked, and when he attempted to shove them away - you refused. You told him to eat before you had to ‘shove it down his fucking throat’. 

You didn’t mock him. You didn’t correct him. And you surprised him even more when you turned the sharpness of your tongue on the others when they tried attacking Jason. They accused him of planting booze in Hank’s room or drawing crosses on Rachel’s mirror to fuck with her, among other things. And you popped veins in your neck going on a winding rant about how stupid and baseless their accusations were. 

Jason wasn’t sure if you knew it, but you jumping to his defense wrapped him in a blanket of protection that he had never before felt. It was so entirely strange, but welcomed coming from you. Especially because he knew that it was genuine. He knew that you didn’t have any ulterior motives for doing this - for some reason, you just wanted to help him. 

When you extended an invitation toward him to come with you as the group dispersed, torn apart by Dick’s nasty, festering secret - Jason felt welcomed by you. He knew that the dynamic between the two of you was changing at a breakneck speed, and he had to embrace it. He found himself eager to follow the weird, newly developing kinship that he had with you rather than wanting to stay in the empty coldness of the Tower with a brooding Dick. 

From there, it was really difficult for Jason to pin down the exact moment that his feelings transitioned toward you from casual lust to something more. He couldn’t tell exactly when it turned into that panic-inducing, ‘oh my god, I’m fucked’ feeling of being in love. After leaving San Francisco, during the entirety of the time that the two of you were in Gotham together, your relationship remained completely platonic. 

It was a few short weeks spent kicking ass as the best vigilante duo the city had ever seen, but there wasn’t a single moment Jason could point to where the two of you lit up with that romantic spark. It wasn’t some romcom bullshit come to life. It was just the two of you being friendly for once. The two of you helping each other survive. 

Back then - Jason wanted you, badly. Even if he didn’t know just how badly, he wasn’t going to fuck up the whole dynamic just to get laid. He felt safe with you. He kicked ass with you. He was good with you. And during that short time - he was happy. So he wasn’t going to do anything to risk that happiness. Happiness was too rare for him. So why the hell would he try putting the moves on you, scare you away, and fuck it all up? 

… 

A little slice of that happiness came in the form of Hal’s Diner. It was a place in downtown Gotham, open twenty four hours, and you and Jason had gotten into the habit of stopping there after your patrols. 

The two of you would kick some ass - break the legs of some drug dealers, make sure that women got home safe if they were walking late at night, keep the streets a little safer. And then you would change out of your patrol outfits and head to the diner, just as the sun was rising over the scummy streets of Gotham. You would get breakfast and Jason would get dinner. He would steal one of your eggs and you would take half his burger, and you would always comment about him putting way too much ketchup on his plate. 

It was harmony. 

“You know, every time I see you make a grown man cry, it brings me such intense joy.” Jason grinned as he said this, reminiscing about a beautiful moment from earlier in the night. 

He spoke about it in the same manner that someone might reminisce about seeing a relative or a cute puppy. But this was natural for the two of you - since you had taken up vigilantism as a duo, violence was a sweet art for the two of you. 

“Well, if he would have left that girl alone the first time I asked, I wouldn’t have broken his arm.” You shrugged, speaking very casually about it yourself. 

You then picked a piece of bacon up off your plate and took a bite, grinning at Jason fondly. You did appreciate it when he complimented your skills. 

Jason chuckled. 

“You know, it is nice to see you using your powers for good instead of evil.” He commented. 

“My powers?” You parroted back, your mouth half busy with chewing, your words slightly muffled. 

You didn’t have any metahuman powers, so this comment did leave you slightly confused. 

“Yeah.” He nodded, entirely confident in the statement he had to follow. “Your endless amount of energy to harass people and be endlessly annoying. The powers you used to spend all your time using on me.” 

“You used to deserve it.” You were quick with your tongue as usual, not missing a beat with this statement. 

Jason’s only rebuttal was to pick up a french fry - one not doused in ketchup - and throw it at your head. You flinched slightly when it bounced off your forehead - but when it landed in your lap, you easily picked it up and put it in your mouth, not thinking twice about doing so as you tossed Jason a wicked grin. 

That. That must have been the moment. 

That was the moment he realized that he was truly in love with you. You grinning at him from across the table, your smile lighting up your whole face, playing around with him like he actually made you happy. Like he could spend the rest of his life making you happy. 

That’s why it hurt so much more when your phone buzzed on the table a few minutes later. When you told him that it was the Titans - Gar in trouble. That’s why it hurt so fucking much when you left. 

Jason knew, in hindsight, that he should have gone with you. But he flailed like a rabbit caught in a snare, and rather than just agreeing with you, he felt the trap tightening around him, and he opted to chew off his own foot rather than simply letting you help him free. 

He stupidly argued that it was some test from Dick. That the Titans could deal with their own problems. Jason knew that deep down, he was still tender from everything that had happened - Dick dropping him, even by accident. The accusations, the secrets. The rejection. He felt like he was laying down a line - he was letting you make a choice. 

Him or the Titans. 

But it shouldn’t have been a choice. It was Gar. Jason should have stood by his friend. He should have gone with you. 

Deep down, Jason feared that if he did go with you - the Titans wouldn’t want him back. He feared another cutting rejection. They would simply bench him again, they wouldn’t even need him to help save Gar. They wouldn’t want him to help. He was useless, after all. He was careless and stupid. That was why he needed you to choose him. To stay. 

That was what his mind was screaming out as you looked at him, disappointment flooding your eyes as you questioned him about Gar, about going back to the Titans. 

Stay. He silently begged. Pick me. 

And watching you snatch up your jacket in a huff and get up from the table, your food barely touched - his eyes boring into your back as you retreated - it was like having his heart carved out of his chest. And because he was so fucked up, he just sat there. He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it. He didn’t chase you. 

He let you go. 

Having you suddenly disappear from his life was like missing a limb. Jason was constantly aching around your non-presence, constantly missing you. He felt torn up from the inside out, wondering if his frayed nerve endings would ever heal themselves. When he went to Donna’s funeral, he stared at you from across the tarmac - telling himself that if you even so much as glanced in his direction, he would cross that sickly one hundred foot black sea and talk to you. He would make the leap and apologize. 

But you were fettered and stubborn and you kept your head straight. You knew it was the ultimate punishment not to acknowledge him. So the moment that the plane took off, Jason shoved on his helmet and sped off on his bike.

He easily became numb after that. 

He went back to Bruce - to lay low and lick his wounds, or because it was the only place he knew, he wasn’t sure. He tried to be a Robin that wasn’t with you. It didn’t work. He felt more broken than ever. It was cheesy, pathetic bullshit - but he talked about you in therapy. Leslie encouraged him to reach out to you, but every time Jason’s fingers hovered over your contact in his phone, his hands shook, and all he remembered was the look of pure scorn you had given him before you snatched up your things and left the diner that day. 

He thought of you as he suited up to go after the Joker. He considered how easy it would be for the two of you to take down the stupid clown together - how flawlessly the two of you worked as a team. 

Jason thought of you as he drew his last breath, soaked in blood and struggling past the world-ending pain. He wondered, in a haze, if you were warm in your bed in The Tower while he was pressed into the cold ground, taunted by the laughter that rung in his ears. 

… 

Jason didn’t know how hard you cried for him when you heard the news of his death. 

You wouldn’t have dared to say that the hole in the middle of your chest was caused by love - caused by the heartbreak of a lover being stolen. But you certainly felt robbed when you heard that the Joker had killed him. You seethed and you heavily considered marching toward Gotham to seek revenge. 

You knew that Dick was angry with Bruce for finally giving in to what the Joker wanted and killing him. For finally ending their sick, twisted game. But when you found out - you were glad that the clown was dead. You wrapped one of Jason’s stolen shirts around your pillow, and you slept a bit easier at night. 

…

Jason knew that he should have left town. 

Crane claimed that Red Hood was going to be the next Batman - that he was going to be something the Bat never could. That he was going to actually keep the streets safe. But so far, all Jason had done was steal, kill, terrorize, torture. Crane spoke of omelets and breaking eggs - pigs and bacon, and ‘marketing’ himself to the public. But truly, it never made any real sense to Jason. 

Jason knew that now, he was the type of man lurking in the night whose arm you would have broken if he was lingering too closely to the vulnerable. And you would have been right for doing so. 

Jason was tired. He felt lost - directionless. He was getting tired of Crane’s bullshit. He missed you. But he knew that he couldn’t just go running back to you. You likely wouldn’t have accepted him back into your life if he did. 

When Crane called him in that night, wanting to discuss ‘the game plan’ - Jason was worn. His patience for all of it was already wearing thin, and what happened next - it truly caused him to snap. 

Jason showed up in full gear, wearing the costume of an alias he no longer believed in; foolishly dressed up as someone he had truly begun to resent. He was holding his helmet in hand, his heavy boots clunking on the floor as he dodged around Crane’s egghead lackeys - a random group of people who were working to convert the anti-fear gas into a larger batch. He knew that they were aiming to get more and more people in the city hooked; if Jason hadn’t abandoned his morals in this new life, he might have cared more about the consequences. 

Instead, he made a B-line for Crane, who was typing away at something on the computer. 

“Jason, my boy!” Crane grinned at him, giving a false, performative grin over his shoulder. “Lovely evening, isn’t it?” 

“What do you want?” Jason asked, his tone flat. 

He was far too tired of Crane to engage in more word play or stupid riddles. 

“Never one for pleasantries, are you?” Crane chuckled. 

Jason didn’t offer him a reply - seemingly confirming his theory with this simple act. 

Truthfully, he wasn’t. He wasn’t feeling very pleasant today. He hadn’t felt very pleasant any day since he had been so rudely pulled from the morgue and zombified to do someone else’s bidding against his will. Being an undead puppet didn’t really make a person all that pleasant. 

Crane reached into the pocket of his oddly quaint grandpa sweater and pulled something out - a small glass vial, containing some clear liquid. It looked harmless - like water. But Jason knew Crane, and he knew that whatever it was must have been entirely dangerous if Crane was carrying around such a small dose of it. 

“Do you know what this is?” He asked, giving the vial a small shake, jostling the liquid inside to emphasize his point. 

Jason hesitated before he shook his head in the negative. He hated to appear clueless and stupid around such an intelligent man, but he didn’t want to guess and be wrong. He knew that being misinformed around Crane was dangerous. But being cocky and pretending to know more than Crane was even more dangerous. 

“This is a very highly concentrated form of liquid Methadone.” Crane explained. “It’s a highly addictive substance. And I think it’s going to give the mass market version of your formula that little extra kick that it needs, ya know? Keep the people coming back for more!” 

He let out a bright chuckle, as though he was talking about a cleaning product that was marketed on an infomercial or some kind of great recipe for soup. That was one of the things that scared Jason the most about Crane - his ability to talk about life changing, deadly things with such jarring enthusiasm. He truly thought of bringing people their worst nightmares and their most painful deaths as ‘beautiful work’. 

“What about it?” Jason prodded quietly. 

He knew that Crane hadn’t called him here just to brag about a new idea to add something to the formula. He needed Jason for something. 

Jason just hoped that he wasn’t looking to use him as a guinea pig again. He would likely rather die again than go down the path of heavy drugs. One thing he had vowed - he wouldn’t end up like his mother. 

“Well, you see, my boy, that’s where you come in.” Crane grinned at him. “Due to its highly addictive qualities, Methadone is also a highly regulated substance. But because I am the wonderfully well-connected man that I am, I happen to know that there is a very large stash of it just sitting there, ripe for the taking, in this quaint little building uptown.” 

Jason’s gut stirred with suspicion. 

“Where uptown?” He asked. 

“Well, it’s just-” Crane stuttered, and then sighed, deciding to get it out and over with. “The Wayne Memorial Cancer Research Facility.” 

Jason glared at him. 

“But see, it’s fine! Because I happen to know someone who knows their way around the Wayne Tech security systems very well. So Red Hood breaks in there, gets me my-” 

“No.” Jason said flatly, before he turned and started to walk away. “Find somebody else. We’re done.” 

Crane had threatened to replace him before. Crane had no-so-subtly threatened to kill him alongside being replaced. Maybe that was a good thing. Maybe Jason would be better off dead. Maybe Crane would find out that Jason was irreplaceable after all. Maybe Jason was a dirty, seedy criminal shaped by life for only one thing: ruining the lives of others. If Jason couldn’t do that, he wasn’t sure what he would do. 

But he wasn’t going to fucking do this. 

Killing was one thing. Stealing from drug dealers and mobsters was another. What he had done to Hank had crossed too many lines - but it didn’t even begin to approach the lines that this crossed. 

Stealing from a facility that Thomas and Martha had set up when Bruce was just a child, shitting all over their legacy, using skills that Bruce had taught him in order to do it? That was too far. Jason couldn’t say that he had morals anymore, but he still had that voice of common decency in the back of his head yelling at him to stop it. Maybe it was your voice, correcting him at every turn the way you used to. 

He should listen to that voice. 

He should leave town. 

“Hold on, hold on there, Jaybird!” Crane called after him. 

The pure annoyance that the nickname caused was the only thing that stopped Jason. He considered turning around and shooting Crane just to shut him up. 

“See, I think you forget how this works.” The man went off again - talking in that humming tone he always used that made Jason’s ears numb, made his brain switch off. “Every loyal dog gets a treat. A little motivation to get that Pavlovian mind barking in the right direction.” 

Jason turned back around then. 

“Nothing you say ever makes any fucking sense.” He barked out, ready to leave Crane with these as his last remarks before he left Gotham forever. 

But then Crane tapped at a few things on his keyboard and pulled something up on the monitor - a dark, grainy video feed that had Jason squinting his eyes and walking closer to get a better look. 

When Jason was able to truly take in the scene - his stomach dropped. 

It was you. 

You were sitting alone in some anonymous, concrete warehouse - probably in the industrial district of Gotham, if Jason had to guess. Crane didn’t like to keep his insurance policies too far away, he liked to play it close to the vest. You were tied to a chair, duct tape tight over your mouth, very much there against your will. You were looking straight ahead, with the camera angled down from the top corner of the room. Even through the grainy, black and white footage, Jason could see the wetness of tears streaking down your face. 

You were terrified. 

Jason’s helmet clattered to the floor, slipping from his grip as the shock overtook his system. 

For the first time in weeks, fighting through the numbness of the drugs and the hazy shock of his new half-life - he was terrified too. Then he was angry. Rage bubbled up inside of him like a sharp, acidic bile. 

“What the fuck have you done?” Jason growled out, the anger setting his jaw so tight that the words could barely escape between his teeth. 

“I told you - every loyal dog gets a treat.” Crane said, a barely contained glee filtering through his voice as he peered over Jason’s shoulder at your weeping face on the screen. 

He clapped a large hand on Jason’s shoulder, and Jason felt himself nearly choke on his own tongue - so swollen with anger that it barely fit in his mouth. 

“So, go fetch, doggie.” Crane continued. “Go get me what I need. Otherwise, that sweet little treat of yours is gonna play dead.” 

Crane leaned over and whispered those last words into Jason’s ear - and that was what truly caused him to snap. 

In a flash, Jason grabbed the hand that was on his shoulder, whipped Crane around - there was a loud crack as Jason broke Crane’s arm. The egghead types who were working on the formula all paused; some of them gasped or hid behind things, but none of them were brave enough to intervene. Jason shoved Crane’s face into the monitor, cracking it out like a spider’s web but never fully obscuring the image of that dark, cold warehouse - the place where you were alone and terrified. 

He twisted Crane’s broken arm, making a sound like glass grinding in on itself, and the man let out a howl. 

“I think you forget how this works.” Jason barked at him, his voice so dark with rage that it almost sounded like he was wearing Red Hood’s voice modulator even though his helmet was on the floor at Crane’s feet. “When dogs get pissed off - they bite.” 

He twisted the injury again, and Crane let out another bitter howl. 

Jason demanded to know where you were, and Crane squeaked out an address. It was in the industrial district, so it checked out in Jason’s mind. It didn’t seem like a trap or a false answer to waste his time. 

Jason shoved the pathetic, useless man to the ground, kicked him in the gut for good measure, and then leaned down to grab his helmet before shoving it on. He would need it in case Crane had anybody stationed there, guarding you. 

Crane shouted something at him as he walked away, but Jason was barely paying attention - now very singular minded on his mission toward you. 

“You have to learn to play by the rules, Red!” Crane choked out. “You won’t like how this ends! I made you! I fucking made you!” 

… 

Jason was surprised to find the building empty. No guards, seemingly no bombs, no gas canisters. At first, he thought it really was a trick, a misdirect to waste his time. But when he had just about given up hope of finding you, searching one of the back most rooms that used to serve as overflow storage for Ace Chemicals - he found you. Concrete and anonymous, some of the beams having eroded away in places from improper chemical storage. 

When you saw him stalking toward you - his gun drawn, heavy boots thudding against the floor, modulator puffing out heavy, mechanical breaths - you let out a terrified whimper past the duct tape and more tears flowed freely down your face. 

Jason felt a twinge of guilt. Of course. You had no clue it was him. 

Perhaps he could get away with the mercy of never revealing himself to you. He could keep his mask on, release you, drop you back off with the Titans and then leave town. But eventually, Dick would tell you who he was. 

At the very least, he could give you the comfort of seeing a familiar face after the hell you had been through. You were wearing a sweatshirt and simple cotton pants, and running shoes - it looked like you had been plucked off the street during a jogging session. He could only imagine how much Crane’s lackeys had scared you. 

Once he was confident that the area was secure, he holstered his gun and then reached up, removing the face mask from his helmet and tossing it aside. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me.” He told you - attempting to be gentle and soothing in his voice. 

He approached you slowly, not wanting you to be scared as he reached to his belt for a knife - only with the intention to cut the ropes around your torso, wrists, and ankles. 

He watched your expression as you flashed through a range of emotions - deep confusion, a bit of relief, sadness, and then strangely - burning anger. You glared at him with the most intense rage he had ever seen from you - more intense even than the day you had stormed into his room and called him stupid and suicidal for going after Doctor Light without backup. 

Jason was slightly afraid of the lecture that would come next, but nonetheless, he knelt beside you and began cutting you free. 

The minute that one of your hands was free, you reached up and ripped the duct tape off your mouth. You took only a fraction of a second to wince in pain from the tender skin of your lips being disturbed before you began verbally tearing into him. 

“Jason Todd!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, so loudly that Jason was sure some of the edges of the corroded concrete pebbled off and fell down just from this. “Jason fucking Todd! I should have known you had something to do with this!” 

“Wh-?” 

Before Jason could question your odd choice of words or even recognize it as an accusation, you raised your other freshly free hand and slapped him squarely across the cheek - it was a hard, skull-shaking clatter. It had Jason dizzy, falling back onto his ass and dropping the knife before he could finish cutting the ropes around your legs. 

“Fucking ow!” Jason griped, reaching up to grab his now very red cheek. 

“You are such an asshole! Of all the completely idiotic, stupid things you have ever done-” 

“I didn’t fucking kidnap you! Okay? I didn’t do shit!” Jason quickly argued back, finally now realizing that you thought he had put you here in the first place. “I’m here to rescue you!” He said each of these words slowly, looking you in the eyes, hoping that his point would get across more firmly this way. 

There was a tense moment as you stared back at him with your jaw locked. It was likely that if your feet hadn’t still been tied, you would have run away - or kicked him. Jason was thankful that you couldn’t do either at the moment.  

“Why?” You asked, finally breaking the tension. 

“What?” Jason gaped. 

This was the last thing he had been expecting. 

He was saving you - why were you questioning him? 

“Why are you ‘rescuing’ me?” You asked, taunting his phrasing of it with a mocking tone and large air quotes. He now regretted freeing your hands. “So you can bargain me off to Dick for ransom money? So you can put a bomb in my chest?” 

You said the last part with intense disdain, tears dancing in your eyes.

So you did know what a monster he was.  

He was surprised that you hadn’t hit him harder. 

Jason heaved a sigh. He reached over and picked up the knife, very slowly, very tentatively resuming cutting the ropes on your legs to free you. 

“I’m just freeing you so that you can be free. That’s it.” He said quietly, defeat lacing through every inch of his voice. “You don’t deserve this.” 

He cut the last rope and folded the knife, sticking it back in his belt. He stood up then and caught a glimpse of your face - you were wearing the most complex expression he had ever seen. Perhaps confusion, perhaps anger. Maybe somewhere deep in your eyes - hurt. 

He turned and moved to leave, hoping you would simply follow him out of the confusing maze of the building and he wouldn’t have to drag you out kicking and screaming. 

“That’s not an answer.” You told him, your tone sharp and certain - the same tone you always used to correct him. 

Jason whipped back around then, heaving a sigh as he looked at you - standing in the middle of the room now, arms folded over your chest, glaring at him on the spot. Cocky and so sure about yourself. Too damn certain and immobile in your points. Infuriating. 

“Why the fuck do you have to make everything so damn complicated?” Jason shot back, annoyance and dread tight in every inch of him. “Why do you have to interrogate me about every damn thing that I do?” 

“Because you make stupid ass decisions when I don’t.” You easily fired back. “Now tell me: why are you doing this?” 

“Because I wanted to.” Jason huffed. 

“Why?” You prodded again. 

He let out another hot huff, and you didn’t let it go. 

“Come on Jason!” You shouted, increasing in volume as you became more frustrated with his lack of an answer. “You didn’t just develop a conscience all of a sudden! Why did you feel the need to suddenly drop everything and come to my rescue? What makes me different than Hank? What makes me different than-?” 

It was the annoyance grinding on him. It was a combination of your nagging voice, the lack of drugs in his system for the first time in weeks. The rawness of the world ragging on his last good nerve. The sound of your voice putting him in line - exactly where he was supposed to be. The way you reminded him of the truth now more than ever. 

“Because I’m in love with you!” Jason shouted. 

It was almost… angry. It was a declaration that hit you like a whip - more like an insult than something warm and kind. It wasn’t made of sweetness, like some moment from a film with a gentle piano riff wrapped around it. It was real - made of the haunting kind of passion that kept Jason awake at night. 

Your eyes widened. Jason’s breathing stilled as he waited for you to react - to say something. 

“Oh.” Your voice cracked around this syllable, and your eyes danced with more tears. 

Jason felt his own heart crack apart inside of his chest, more terror flooding him. 

He had died with the secret because he had never wanted to live up to the embarrassing vulnerability of confessing it. In the deepest part of his mind, he had lived this horror a thousand times. Him finally creeping out onto the edge of oblivion - speaking those words. Confessing. And then you stabbing him in the heart, rejecting him. 

The reality of it ripped through him so much harder than it ever had in his nightmares. 

Any last tiny piece of his soul that had survived being murdered by the Joker had just been shattered by you. 

“Yeah. Fucking oh.” Jason echoed back, his own tears clutching at his throat. 

Seeing him with that naked vulnerability dancing behind his eyes - it reminded you of the same person who came back from being kidnapped by Doctor Light. It reminded you of the real Jason you had gotten to know. 

In that moment, it all came crashing toward you. You gasped harshly as you could barely breathe around it. 

That hole in your chest had been shaped like a lover - it had been shaped like him. Filled with the pain of letting him get hurt, leaving him alone in Gotham to be murdered by the Joker. Filled with the doubt and confusion of never knowing what could have been between the two of you if you had chased those flirtations a little bit farther. 

And now, he was standing right here in front of you, somehow perfectly alive and well - and there was only one possible thing you could do. 

“Jason.” You gasped out his name, unable to fathom more words. 

Before he could move, you reached out and grabbed both sides of his face, one of them still singed with a burning ache where you had slapped him so hard - and you pulled him into a kiss, hard. 

It wasn’t pretty. It wasn’t dainty or smooth like some Hollywood love confession - it was hungry. Bordering on feral as you both fought to consume more of the other person, bleeding out little moans and fighting for breath past each other’s lips. Jason’s hands rushed to embrace you, wrapping around your back and grabbing a needy, possessive handful of your ass while you kept your grip tight on his face, keeping his face forcefully close to your own as you devoured his mouth. 

You felt some of his tears escape - such a rush of emotions making him raw and unable to hold them back, and you moaned pitifully into his mouth as he wetness slipped underneath your palms. Whatever it was - his pain, his pleasure; you would take it. He was all yours now. 

… 

Far off, on the other side of Gotham, Crane chuckled quietly to himself as he watched the scene unfold. He had pulled up the camera feed on a separate tablet, seeing as Jason had used his head to crack the monitor. With his broken arm bound in a temporary sling, he used his one good hand to pull something out of a drawer - a remote with a single button. 

“For these violent delights have violent ends,” He recited to himself, still grinning widely as he looked at the two lovers in the grainy, black and white footage. “And in their triumph, die like fire and powder. Which as they kiss, consume. Even the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness, if the taste confounds the appetite.” Crane poised his finger on the button. “Therefore, love moderately.” 

He pressed down, and dissolved into more epic laughter as he watched what came next. 

… 

You were only human, and you could only kiss Jason for a few minutes before your brain demanded oxygen. As much as you hated to pull away from the sweet, bruising sting of his lips, you forced yourself back and immediately took in a sharp breath that turned into a rolling pant - Jason let out a needy whine in protest. 

With his arms holding you so securely and the dizzying heat now flowing through you - you almost didn’t catch it. But it was there, in the background, something steadily present that wasn’t there before. 

Beeping. A small, electronic beeping. 

“Do you hear that?” You asked Jason, squinting your eyes with confusion and looking around, trying to find the source of the noise. 

He did hear it. 

“Fuck.” Jason mumbled. 

Panic flooded him. The whole thing had been a trap. 

He pulled away from you hesitantly and grabbed his mask up off the ground, snapping it back on. 

“We have to go. Now.” He told you, his voice now sharp and robotic through the voice filter as he grabbed your wrist and began dragging you away - you became limp to his direction for once and simply followed, fear tight in your gut once again. 

Jason didn’t want to consider the possibilities, but he knew it could be anything from a large bomb, meant to tear you to shreds, to a large dose of fear gas waiting to be deployed. And he didn’t have an antidote at the moment. He needed to get you out of the building and transport you to safety. 

When the two of you came to a door - one of the many that Jason had passed through on his way in - it snapped shut in Jason’s face. It was on some kind of mechanical locking system, that much was apparent. Jason rushed forward, trying to pry it open - but it was welded steel, and it wouldn’t budge. 

Jason heard more slamming - more metal forcing itself shut on the same locking system. 

“Jason?” You croaked, that unsure terror back in your voice again. Something so rare for you. You were looking to him for answers. You were looking to him to rescue you. 

Overhead, the last bits of light were shut out - glimpses of the street lights outside - as thick metal shudders collapsed down over the windows. The room was sealing itself shut, becoming air tight. 

“Stand back.” Jason told you, not waiting to see if you followed the instruction before he pulled out one of his guns and began shooting at the door’s heavy metal hinges. He knew it was futile and he feared that one of the bullets might ricochet off and hit you, but he didn’t have many options left. 

Then he heard it. The gentle hissing of gas being released into the air. 

Jason was naive to have hoped that it was Crane’s classic Fear Gas - that would have been a merciful walk in the park compared to what he had planned for you. Betraying Jonathan Crane meant that Jason had to be truly punished. 

Jason turned to you, wrapping his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the air itself - but it was too late. You began coughing and struggling to breathe, and Jason looked on with confusion as his chest twisted with guilt. 

With his helmet on, he felt nothing. For the first few moments, he didn’t even understand what was going on as you gasped for air, struggling to form a word as you choked on each breath. Jason had no clue what the substance was or how he could fix it, looking on in horror as thick fog clouded around your ankles - your eyes bulging out of your head as you struggled for oxygen. 

“Y/N?” Jason gasped, holding you by both shoulders as you became weaker and leaned on him. “Y/N?” 

You couldn’t answer him. 

You continued to wheeze, your breath hitching against your throat harshly. As the fog reached up to touch your face, it left angry, blistering marks in your skin. Unlike Jason, you had no armor to protect yourself - and somehow, Crane had turned the air itself acidic. Your eyes became wrecked with bloody red streaks and your face swelled as you continued to choke. 

Jason’s insides screamed, but he felt too still. 

As more of the fog touched you, some of the marks on your neck and your cheek blistered more and opened up, bleeding out pinkish bubbling puss as Jason continued to hold you - he didn’t know what else to do. 

All he could do was hold you. 

A harsh foam seeped out of your mouth as you choked on your last half-breath, and Jason felt a stinging pain consuming him - he wasn’t sure if it was the acidic fog finally breaching through his clothing, or the biting pain of having you limp in his arms - dead, as he huddled there on the floor. 

“Come on.” Jason wept, steaming up the inside of his helmet as he recycled back his own breath now. He reached up to your cheek, accidentally skimming off a layer of your marred skin with his gloved thumb as he tried to wipe away some of the teary blood that had leaked from your eyes. “Come on, Y/N. Wake up.” 

Jason simply wept. And he held you. 

As he looked at the camera feed, Crane smiled. 

“This is what happens when you don’t play by the rules, Red.”

...

A/N: SOOOO obviously this ending leaves us with a lot of questions - did Jason survive? I think this can be interpreted one of two ways: one, Jason did live. He managed to escape somehow, and he had scars all over his body from the acidic fog, and he enacted a very vicious, bloody, torturous revenge on Crane before going into hiding forever (or before using Red Hood to give actual justice to innocent people who needed it, his scars always a reminder of who he lost). Or - he sat there in shock and eventually choked to death as well. Or he pulled the whole 'my life is not worth living anymore' thing and just took off his helmet on purpose. So you can imagine that either of those things happened next.

Also, if you didn't catch it (or, if you're not a Saw person) - this situation was heavily inspired by the final plot twist trap in Saw X. I love the acidic fog, and I feel like Crane could be a trap guy. The Titans version of Crane could be good friends with John, imo.

Also, if you enjoyed this fic, check out my DC Titans Masterlist for more of my other fics!! And please consider reblogging and commenting on this fic to tell me what you liked about it.

[nervouspearl]

So um...maybe I went a little unhigned after watching episode 2.07 and wrote a whole piece about how it could make sense for Siuan to believe that Moiraine (and Lan?) have turned to the dark?

First of all, I should preface this by saying that I don’t 100% believe that this is what happened, or that this is the thought progress Siuan went through, but it seems at least plausible? Many have suggested that seeing Moiraine channel is what made Siuan believe that she could be a darkfriend, and that would explain Siuan enforcing the sacred oath despite Moiraine's pleas, but it didn’t sit right with me as the only explanation because Moiraine never directly told her that she was stilled, and therefore did not directly lie to Siuan about it.

But taking a few steps back and looking at the whole episode, and even the previous episode, and considering the possibility that the seed of doubt had been sown in Siuan from the moment Lan told her Moiraine had been stilled for months, it started to make more sense to me how the episode could unfold the way it did. Maybe I’m giving more credit to the writers than what they deserve and this is not what really happened at all, but it was an interesting thought experiment to go through.

Now, starting from episode 6. Siuan has been corresponding with Moiraine for 6 months after the Eye of the World, and not once has Moiraine even hinted at being stilled. Lan then appears out of the blue one night to stop her carriage, telling her that Moiraine has been stilled ever since taking Rand to the Eye of the World.

Now, that simply does not compute for Siuan. Her and Moiraine keep secrets from everyone else but never from each other. For 20 years they have shared this mission and the Moiraine she knows would not keep something so big from her, or so she had thought. 

So what does mean for Siuan? Either Moiraine has been stilled for six months and she hasn’t said anything to Siuan about it, or something even more sinister happened at the Eye of the World and the Dark One somehow got to Moiraine.

For the first time in her life, Siuan has to seriously doubt Moiraine, and by extension she also has to doubt Lan: because why is Lan the one to tell her that Moiraine has been stilled? If it’s a lie, of course it makes sense to send Lan to tell it, because if Moiraine herself was caught in a lie, it would immediately be obvious that she has broken the three oaths.

And so Siuan arrives in Cairhien, with 14 Aes Sedai in tow, because she doesn’t know what she is dealing with and whether she is entering a trap or not. She needs to see Moiraine, alone, to determine where they stand, but she can’t go there without reinforcements and a back-up plan.

It’s telling that she doesn’t disclose to the other Aes Sedai why they are there. As she tells Liandrin: “We’ll have to wait and see.” Even Siuan isn’t sure at this point what she will need the 14 Aes Sedai for, if for anything other than show. It will depend on her meeting with Moiraine.

Then she meets Moiraine, and immediately opens with “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you tell me you’d been stilled?” because that’s what it all boils down to.

She desperately wants to believe Moiraine and needs to hear her explain why she has not communicated this monumental thing to her before, but she finds Moiraine distant and defensive. They are alone but Moiraine isn’t talking to her. She is avoiding answering anything and is in fact countering Siuan’s questions with questions of her own (an effective way to avoid having to lie) and no matter how closely Siuan is looking (and she is looking very closely) she cannot glean the answers from Moiraine that she’s looking for.

As a last resort, she approaches Moiraine and tries to directly appeal to the love they share, the mission they share together and Moiraine visibly flinches under her touch before surrendering to it.

The change that has happened in Siuan's expression by the end of the “interview” is noticeable:

She still may not fully believe that Moiraine has pledged herself to the Dark, because that would be a huge leap, but it’s an option she now has to take very seriously and act accordingly.

Next she has to meet Rand. She is in no mood to have a real conversation with him, nor give him a pep talk like she did to Nynaeve and Egwene. She just needs to find out what she can and learn if Moiraine has actually held any part of their deal and taught him how to channel - the answer: she has not. Rand is completely useless and unprepared, which happens to be hugely convenient for the Dark One.

Siuan now knows what she must do: the Dragon Reborn must be separated from Moiraine, for the sake of the mission, if there is any chance that Moiraine is now a darkfriend (and maybe for Moiraine’s sake as well, because maybe things are not as bad as they seem and there is still something that can be salvaged) and at the moment, the best action Siuan can see before her is to fall on Tower protocol, especially, as Siuan has found during her interview with Rand, the Dragon Reborn is still weak and easy to control. They had tried their way and it now seems to have cost her Moiraine. What else is there to do now but try the other approach?

When Moiraine enters the room again, Siuan meets her, not as her lover, but as the Amyrlin: cold and detached.

When Moiraine asks “have you forgotten that day” it clearly affects Siuan. She has not forgotten. But has Moiraine?

“Of course I’ve not forgotten, but YOU were supposed to be with him”

Now, it’s unclear to me if Moiraine is imprisoned with Rand, or if she is there with him by her own will, but clearly she is at least under surveillance. Leane tells Verin not to let Moiraine get close to her, implying that Moiraine is now considered a threat. Presumably these are  instructions from Siuan.

Things are already bad, but they are about to get worse, and confirm Siuan’s worst fears which she still might not have fully allowed herself to believe.

Lanfear is on the loose, and Moiraine and Rand escape. Verin seems to be in on it too. The person that Moiraine recently spent several months with. (I’m not sure if Siuan knows that's where Moiraine was, but since she and Moiraine did correspond during those months, I assume Siuan was aware of her whereabouts.) It doesn’t look good.

Siuan rushes to find Moiraine and Rand because it’s now of paramount importance that they don’t leave the town together. The best case scenario remains that Moiraine has simply lost her mind due to being stilled, but the worst case, and now a seemingly very possible scenario, is that she could be worse than that. But still, Siuan has not let go of all hope and she goes alone to deal with the woman she loves - to try one more time to either reason with her or stop her by force.

She finds her at the waygate and arrives just in time to see that it’s Moiraine - the supposedly stilled Moiraine - who has opened it. Whatever hope she was still clinging onto is gone.

“You lied to me about being stilled.”

Moiraine denies it but what value do her words have anymore if she has pledged herself to the Dark and broken her oaths?  And she looks utterly unhinged too. This is not her Moiraine.

But also Siuan can’t play her hand and directly accuse her of being a darkfriend because what good would that do? If she is a darkfriend she can lie, so her words are worth nothing.

But there is another oath that Moiraine has made directly to Siuan. Maybe that’s been broken too, but it’s all Siuan has now.

Moiraine is begging her not to, and it’s almost enough to break Siuan’s resolve, but she can’t know anymore what Moiraine’s motivation is. Is she begging her not to enforce the oath because it’s wrong, or because it would reveal that she is no longer bound by it, or maybe there is even a possibility that she still is bound by this oath because her deal with the dark one only included freeing her from the three oaths of the Aes Sedai, and now being commanded by Siuan would simply prevent her from taking the Dragon Reborn to Ishamael?

Siuan's command works and it hurts her more than anything to watch Moiraine being moved against her will by a force she cannot resist, but maybe there’s also some relief in seeing that the oath is still in place. Maybe, just maybe, Moiraine has not turned to dark after all?

When Siuan looks at Moiraine after the deed is done, she sees  her Moiraine again and she is beyond sorry for what she has just done. There is a fleeting moment where things could have been said and misunderstandings cleared, but it's too short. There is not time, because Lanfear appears before any of those things can happen.

Siuan doesn’t have any answers yet, but one thing she knows is that she’s not going to let Lanfear go unopposed. It was a valid effort but completely useless. Siuan gets tossed aside as easily as she herself had just knocked out Lan.

Now, I don’t know how Siuan interprets the last things she sees before passing out, whether she believes now that Moiraine remains true to the mission and can appreciate the fact that Moiraine having managed to win Rand’s trust is a good thing. She is awake to see Lanfear about to attack Moiraine, and to see Rand stand between them, which should suggest that Moiraine and Lanfear are not working together, but then Moiraine does go with her to the ways, so it’s open for interpretation I guess, but that doesn’t really matter in the sense that it’s something that must be dealt with later. What matters more is what Siuan believes up until the moment she forces Moiraine to close the gate.

If this is what happened, it kind of makes sense to me. But I guess only time will tell what the real story is.

[supernovafics]

series masterlist | last part

pairing: modern!actor!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 8.1k words

warnings: explicit language, angst, fluff, smut (18+)

summary: it’s ten months of texts, phone calls, voicemails, anything to make it feel like everything isn’t too different. and for the most part, it works. until you and steve finally see each other again

EPILOGUE | ❝𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆❞

You: How’s New York so far?

Steve: Good aside from Tom trying to force me to do more press stuff than what we initially agreed on and I’ve only been here three days

You: I kinda miss that british man

Steve: That truly offends me</3

You: I’m sorry<3

You: Okay very very important question

You: Empire State of Mind or Welcome to New York?

Steve: ???? 

You: You’re in New York for the next month so one of them has to be your signature song (and yes this is coming from the person that has only been to New York a handful of times. shut up don’t mention it) 

Steve: Can I say no to both of them?

You: No.

Steve: Okay then 

Steve: The Taylor Swift one

You: Solid answer

You: Now I will start your morning right every day you’re there by sending you lyrics from that song :) 

Steve: Oh god

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Steve: What was the name of that show we watched for almost five hours at your place that one night?

You: It sincerely hurts me that you forgot the name of Brooklyn Nine-Nine….

Steve: Yes, that’s it! I was thinking about this one episode we watched of it but I couldn’t remember the name

You: Are you about to watch it without me? (if the answer is yes that hurts me even more)

Steve: Yes I was… But now no way I would never watch it without you

You: A true friend. Thank you 

Steve: Oh wait I’m just now realizing how late it is where you are. How are you even talking to me right now? 

You: Yeah, it’s 2am but I can’t sleep. First day of real filming tomorrow. First day being AD. And yes all the pre-production stuff me and Jessie have been doing since we got to Spain two weeks ago has been perfectly leading to this moment, but now it just feels so fucking real and even though I know I’m not gonna mess up or anything I’m still nervous

Steve: You’re gonna do great and actually I think it’s impossible for you not to be really good at what you do  

You: Thank you

Steve: I would suggest that I call you and we watch an episode of Brooklyn Nine-Nine to take your mind off things but you should sleep 

You: No actually can we do that? I’m wide awake right now and I don’t think I’ll be able to fall asleep anytime soon 

You: Also fun fact: I’m actually able to function better when I’m running on barely three hours of sleep 

Steve: That’s a huge lie but okay

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

“… Please leave a message after the beep.”

You listened to the all-too familiar sound of the “beep” and then began speaking. “Okay, I know it’s like three in the morning in LA right now, so it completely makes sense why you didn’t answer. But, anyway, I just landed in London last night and now it’s morning and I’m at the coffee shop that you told me I should go to while I’m here.” 

“It’s really, really great, and I hate how right you are about the tea being amazing, and it actually makes me change my mind about how much I dislike tea. Oh, also, I got my first ever British scone from here and it’s so good too. I think I’ll probably be spending every day at this place while I’m here for the next month.”

“And I know you raved a lot about the breakfast sandwiches here too, so I will try that tomorrow. I think you said that the bacon one was your favorite, but please confirm that because I can’t fully remember… Oh, wait, nevermind, it’s definitely the bacon because I do remember you saying that you miss it a lot.”

“I could bring you one back if you want? No, wait, actually, that wouldn’t make sense because even when I leave London, I’m still gonna be in Europe for three more months… Wait, I see that they sell coffee mugs here, though, so I could definitely bring you back that if you wanted me to? They have some cool options.” 

“Alright, I think I’m just rambling at this point so let me shut up.” You let out a small laugh. “Okay, bye.” 

Call Ended

-

You: *image attached* 

You: Enjoy that picture of me being the most touristy tourist in the world :) 

Steve: I can’t believe you’re doing the leaning tower of pisa pose thing

You: I had to. I couldn’t come here and not do it. It feels like tradition. A rite of passage, if you will

Steve: You’re such a dork 

You: Joke’s on you because I fully take that as a compliment, so thank you 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The feeling of your phone vibrating in the back pocket of the jeans you were wearing surprised you because you thought you had turned it off for the day. And then seeing Steve’s name take over your phone screen further surprised you, but you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.  

“Hi,” You said. You were on a break for the first time that day, so the timing of his call was actually kind of perfect. “This is a pretty nice surprise.”

“Hey, how’s it going?” It felt really good actually hearing his voice for the first time in what felt like forever.  

“Pretty good. I never thought I’d actually find myself truly missing LA, but now I kinda can’t wait to be back there in three weeks,” You answered, saying what had been on your mind for a while at this point. “How’s Vancouver?” 

“Nice so far. It’s actually been snowing a lot, but I like it.” 

“I hope you've been doing all of the snow and Winter activities; making snow angels, sledding down hills. Y’know, all the stuff they do in children’s Christmas movies.” 

You almost immediately heard Steve laugh at your words. “The apartment I’m staying at here has a balcony, and last night after it stopped snowing I made a really small snowman.” 

You smiled. “I love that. Please send me a picture of it.” 

“Okay.”

Things became quiet for a moment, and it was a silence that easily felt comfortable and you didn’t mind it at all. Simply knowing that Steve was on the other end of the call felt like enough. 

“This is a random thought, but we never usually talk on the phone. Mainly because our time zones are insanely different, so the timing is never right, and we’re either leaving each other voicemails or just texting, which is fine. But it’s really nice hearing your voice. It’s just… really comforting.” You let out a soft breath. “Where I am right now and where I’ve been the past five-ish months have become my makeshift “homes,” but talking to you actually feels like home, in a way… And I know exactly how disgustingly cheesy that sounds. Don’t say anything about it, or I will end this call.”

Steve laughed a bit. “No, I agree with you. We’ve talked about feeling lonely before, but even though we haven’t seen each other in what feels like a really long time, whenever we text and especially when we talk on the phone, it’s hard to feel lonely. It’s like all of these miles between us don’t really matter, which is nice. You’re my “home” too.”

You were quiet for a second, fully taking in his words and smiling at how happy they made you feel. It was the kind of happiness where you also kind of felt like crying. 

You loved what you had been doing currently with your job and you wouldn’t have changed any of it, but you also really wished that you could see Steve right then; you would’ve killed for a hug.  

“Okay, I think I should go before I start crying,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “Also, I only have ten more minutes of my break, and I haven’t eaten since this morning.” 

“Oh shit, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you. “No, don’t be sorry. Like I said, I really like when we can actually talk to each other. I like hearing your voice.” 

“I like hearing yours too,” He told you and somehow it was easy to hear the smile in his tone. “Okay, I’m gonna hang up now. Go eat something.”

“Aye, aye captain,” You said with a small laugh. “Talk to you soon.”  

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You: I just watched the final cut of Fear of Lonesome with Jessie… Enjoy this picture of me currently bawling my eyes out at the ending

You: *image attached*

Steve: Sorry for making you cry?

You: It was worth it, honestly

Steve: You’re coming to the cast and crew screening next week right?

You: Of course. I will happily cry at this movie again :)

You: It’s kinda really fucked up how good of an actor you are 

Steve: Thank you? At least I think that’s a compliment

You: It is<3

You: Anyway I’ll see you next week then

You: The first time in a really really long time. Holy shit 

Steve: That feels a little weird to think about. But a good kind of weird

You: Yeah definitely the good kind 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a moment that was ten months in the making. 

Ten months of texts, voicemails, and sporadic phone calls. Ten months of being so far apart from one another, but doing so much to make it feel like you weren’t. 

It was all leading here— seeing Steve in person at the small theater in West Hollywood that had been rented out for the night’s occasion. And when you saw him, talking to random members of the cast and crew, it didn’t exactly feel real, which made you not say anything. 

Until he saw you and your eyes met and small smiles were quickly shared. You gave him a small nod before you got pulled into a conversation with someone.

He looked a little different, hair grown out a bit more and there was something minorly different about his stance, but overall he was still your Steve. Well, not technically yours, but close enough. You then wondered if he thought you looked any different. You personally felt a bit different, in a good way; like you’d become better over the past ten months, and in some ways, more of yourself. 

It was almost amusing how, most of the time, the time seemed to move slowly over the past ten months, but now it was suddenly moving so much faster. 

Everyone left the lobby area and started making their way inside the room that the screening would be happening in since it was scheduled to start in five minutes, but you and Steve lingered back, walking toward each other until there were only a few beats of space between you two. 

You smiled at him again. “Hi.”

“Hi.” He stepped forward to close the rest of the distance between you and pull you in for a hug, but you stepped back. 

“Oh, I don’t know if I’m allowed to hug you. Y’know given that you’re an engaged man and all.” You tried to be completely serious with your words but it was hard not to laugh at least a little bit.

According to many celebrity news outlets, Steve and his female costar of the limited series he’d been filming in Vancouver for the past five months were dating. It was a rumor that started about two months into filming, and there had been no confirmations about the said relationship but there were also no hard denials, so the speculations continued. And then there were even a handful of news outlets that went quite insane with their headlines and said that the two were secretly engaged. You both had laughed about it then when you sent that article to him, because the rumors were hilariously ridiculous, and you couldn’t not joke about it now. 

“Ha ha,” He said, voice deadpan. “I didn’t even get to tell you, but Tom suggested that me and Lily actually start fake dating because, in addition to all of this giving so much more press to the show, it could also help me. If I’m dating someone it will fully “kill off the asshole image.” I immediately vetoed that idea, though.”

Although the asshole narrative that surrounded Steve still existed— not as prominent as it once was but it still lingered whenever his name was brought up by the media— it was hard to see him like that anymore.  

You let out a laugh. “Of course Tom would suggest that.” 

“Yeah, he’s…” Steve trailed off with a quick shake of his head. “Anyway, c’mere.”

You walked into his open arms that time, pushing up on your toes to circle your arms around his neck as his wrapped around your waist. Your eyes fell shut as he held you tight and it was then that the time felt like it started to move slow again. 

“I have something for you,” You told him after a moment, words getting somewhat lost in his neck but he was still able to hear you. “A little gift. It’s in my car, I’ll give it to you after.” 

“I also have something for you,” Steve whispered, and you opened your eyes at that.

You pulled back from the hug, still smiling at him. “Great minds, hm?”

He nodded and matched your smile with one of his own. Seeing him right then still didn’t entirely feel real just yet, so you went quiet once again and the two of you simply looked at each other. 

During the past ten months you and him had talked pretty much all of the time, but there was something different about this moment. Feelings that you thought you had successfully pushed far away rushed right back to the surface. 

“We should head inside,” He said, breaking the silence and pulling you out of your thoughts, which you were grateful for because you really didn’t want to think right then, especially not about that.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You were the one that suggested Steve come back to your place and the small gift exchange happen there. 

The screening felt as if it ended too soon and the inevitability of the night itself ending started to hang in the air. However, you couldn’t allow that to happen; you wanted this night to last as long as it could. 

Steve agreed with your suggestion and thirty minutes after various goodbyes were said, the two of you were sitting on your couch as a frozen pizza that you’d just bought yesterday cooked in the oven because both of you were hungry. 

You were already wearing the navy blue oversized crewneck he got you that had “Vancouver” embroidered in white across the front of it. It was comfortable and perfect, and a simple gift but also the best thing you’d received in a while. 

“I hope you like this,” You said as you handed him the gift you’d gotten for him; a cream colored mug with the logo of a coffee shop in brown lettering on the side. “I know you said that you were okay with not getting a mug from that coffee shop in London, but I just really wanted to get you this one.”

Steve looked at the mug for a second and then at you, a smile on his face. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” You said and your fingers started mindlessly playing with the hem of your crewneck as you continued speaking. “I’ve missed you a lot this past year. I know we talked so often and everything, but being right here, in person, feels really nice.”

“I’ve missed you too,” He said softly before he placed the mug on the coffee table barely a few feet away and then met your eyes again. “There were so many times where I wanted to just drop everything and go see you. Rearrange plans or cancel some stupid press stuff and meet up with you. Even if it would only be for barely a day or whatever. I just always wanted to see you.” 

You wanted to tell him how much you related to his words. You wanted to say how there were a countless amount of times where you had yearned to do the exact same thing. However, you couldn’t find the words to tell Steve any of that, so instead you only looked at him for a bit.

It was almost funny how many times you had become at a loss of words so far that night simply because of him. But it was as if the fact that you were suppressing so much made you unable to say pretty much anything. Because you were scared of where exactly your mind would go if you didn’t immediately shut down some of your thoughts that involved you and Steve, especially now that he was right here instead of thousands of miles away and no longer solely limited to the confines of your phone.  

He was your friend. Best friend. And it had been so much easier to pretend that that was where you and him solely began and ended when you both were so far away from each other— when he wasn’t right in front of you and you weren’t so easily reminded of how close you two used to be in such a different way. 

Those same revived feelings from earlier that night came right back again, and they practically increased tenfold because you found yourself wanting to kiss him so fucking badly. And, of course, there was a part of your mind that immediately told you just how bad of an idea that would be. However, at that moment, you became okay with all logical thinking being pushed out of the window. 

In your mind it felt like you were moving in slow motion, scooting closer to him on the couch and sliding into his lap so that your legs were on either side of him, but in reality it was happening so much quicker. However, you stopped there before you did anything else.

You could see some confusion in his eyes and also something else that you couldn’t fully decipher, maybe he was contemplating things as much as you had been before you decided to take this sort of plunge.  

That look was almost enough to wake you up and remind you of what had been agreed upon all those months ago, but it wasn’t enough to make you pull away from Steve. However, instead of sliding off of his lap or moving things further, you gave the metaphorical ball to him. 

You let silence hang in the air as the two of you simply looked at each other and you gave him the opportunity to push you away. To tell you that there wasn’t any part of him that wanted this to happen. That he was so far past feeling anything like that toward you anymore. That he never even thought about it.

You would’ve been okay with any of those things happening because even though it would’ve hurt, it would actually make things a thousand times easier. 

But, he didn’t do or say any of that. Instead, he closed the last bit of space between you two and slotted his lips against yours. 

It was an immovable and obvious fact that you had missed him so much over the past ten months, but you now realized that you had missed this just as much. A soft kiss that almost immediately turned into something more with one of Steve’s hands coming up to cup your cheek and the other finding your hip to keep you steady. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth when his tongue ran across your bottom lip making the kiss deeper, and your hands fisted themselves into his t-shirt to bring yourself impossibly closer to him. 

For the time being, you effectively turned your mind off. You deliberately chose not to think about what this exactly meant or what it would come to mean. All you focused on in that moment was how fucking good doing this with Steve felt. 

Your hands found the hem of your crewneck because you suddenly felt way too hot and you pulled away from Steve for a second so that you could slip it over your head, leaving you in just your black tank top and shorts.  

You became so lost in the pure happiness of everything that was happening right then that you couldn’t hear anything except your heart pounding in your ears and the soft sounds Steve was managing to elicit from you due to the way he was squeezing your hips.  

“The oven,” He mumbled against your lips, which slowly snapped you out of the haze you were in. “The oven is beeping.” 

It was then that you heard the incessant noise; almost too loud and clear. 

You abruptly pulled away from Steve and maneuvered off of his lap. “Oh, shit.”  

He followed you into the kitchen as you opened up the oven and used a mitt to grab the circular pan the pizza was on and place it atop the stove. 

“That was, um…” You trailed off not knowing exactly where you wanted to go with your words. 

Steve shook his head. “It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” 

“I don’t regret what just happened,” You blurted out. They were the words that pretty much mimicked what was said after the first time you two ever had sex. But, instead of those words first coming from Steve they were coming from you. “And I don’t really know what that means, and I kinda don’t wanna think about what it means right now. I kinda just don’t wanna think at all right now. Sometimes I feel like I think way too much when it comes to us.”

He was quiet for a second before he nodded at you. “Okay.”

His hands found your hips and you were softly pressed against the side of the kitchen counter. You two shared a look that felt as if it was saying a million things, none of which you particularly wanted to decipher right then. 

Before things could stay silent for too long, before you accidentally let your mind fall down a spiraling rabbit hole, you nodded a bit and mimicked Steve’s previous word. “Okay.”   

His hands came up to cup your face before he leaned in to kiss you again. You didn’t waste a second to push yourself onto the counter and Steve’s lips found your neck, roughly kissing and nipping at the skin. Your hands started playing with the hem of his t-shirt before circling in the loops of his jeans and pulling him flush against you. When you felt his hardness press against your inner thigh, you took in a sharp breath and let out a soft moan. You were completely certain that you would’ve let him pull off your shorts and underwear and do whatever he wanted to do to you against your kitchen counter if you weren’t reminded of something else. 

“The pizza?” You mumbled, a bit unable to form the question coherently because all you could really focus on was the feeling of Steve’s mouth against you. 

He pulled away from your neck and met your eyes. “We can eat it after.”

He didn’t have to specify further for you to know exactly what he meant. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. “Yeah, after sounds perfect.” 

It became a blur of movements after those words fell from your lips. His hands found the backs of your thighs and he picked you up— the abruptness of the action made you simultaneously yelp and laugh as your arms came up to circle around his neck. You were carried to your bedroom and softly placed down against the unmade bed. Clothes were quickly shed until there was nothing between you and him. 

No words were said in these rushed moments where hands and mouths roamed almost everywhere on each other's bodies; the brief looks shared and breathy noises coming from both of you were enough. 

It was as if one mind was being shared or a song that only you two knew the words to was playing and both of you were singing along. Your hands were in his hair, softly pulling because the groans he’d let out were probably the hottest thing you’d ever heard. And his middle finger softly teased your clit as he whispered the filthiest things in your ear because he knew just how much that would make you lose it. 

It had been almost a year but neither of you forgot these little things about one another and it almost felt like second nature to be with each other in this way. There wasn’t a hint of nervousness or awkwardness, and maybe that was saying a lot more than you wanted to admit. 

You were positive that if you fully thought about what was happening right then, your mind wouldn’t hesitate to yell at you that this was a bad idea; that it would only make things complicated, and start you both back at square one. 

However, it would also tell you that the times in your life where you felt your happiest and most comfortable mainly consisted of moments with Steve, and that was something that felt as if it would never change. 

Therefore, when he slipped inside you with a low groan that you caught with your mouth and proceeded to make you come faster than you had in such a long time, it was hard to feel anything but completely happy. 

Your legs wrapped around him, coaxing him deeper inside of you and soft “pleases” fell from your lips begging him to come. And after a particularly hard thrust, he let out a loud “Fuck” and came inside of you, and you couldn’t do anything but moan at the feeling of his cum painting your walls. 

The weight of him crushed you in the most comforting way possible, and you tilted your head upward a bit to meet his lips in a soft and lazy kiss. The two of you stayed just like that for a while, coming down from your highs and letting your racing hearts return to normal. Your head fell back against your pillow, eyes closing, but you didn’t feel tired. 

“When those articles about you and Lily dating started coming out, I knew exactly how ridiculous the rumors were because I feel like we have the kind of… friendship where you’d tell me if you were dating someone… But, there was still a small part of me that believed it for a second, and it was actually so hard to not feel a little sad about it.” Your words came out quiet, and you actually had no idea why you had just said all of that— perhaps that confession did not make for the best post-sex pillow talk conversation. But, for some reason, you wanted to say it. 

It was a thought that had weighed on you all those months ago, and you knew that you couldn’t tell that to him then because of what it implied. And you weren’t entirely sure why and what made this moment different from then. 

Steve was quiet for a bit and his face was buried in your neck as he softly spoke. “I don’t really know what to say to that.”

“It’s okay,” You whispered back. “You don’t have to say anything. It was dumb of me to feel that way about it.” 

He rolled off of you and the feel of his warmth against you was something that you missed almost immediately. For a second you thought that maybe you ruined this moment, whatever it was, but then he said something.  

“What are you doing this weekend?” He asked, and you were grateful for the randomness of the subject change. 

You let out a breath that you didn't know you’d been holding and turned on your side to face him. “For once, absolutely nothing. It’ll probably be the last time I actually have nothing to do before the documentary I’m helping out on starts filming in a month, and I have to do some pre-production stuff for it soon.”

Work was honestly the only thing in your life that felt completely certain, so it always felt easy to talk about.

“You should come to New York. I’m going tomorrow, and I'll be there until the premiere here for the movie next week. I have to do some press stuff and have a few meetings. A bunch of boring stuff, but you should come for the weekend,” Steve said, one hand finding your bare hip and softly rubbing the skin. “To make the boring stuff a lot less boring.” 

You couldn’t help but smile at that, and you nodded at him, quickly deciding not to think too heavily about your answer. “Okay.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

It was a little surprising that it wasn’t surprising how easy things fell back into that old place with you and Steve. Back to what sort of resembled the “arrangement” that had started during filming a year ago where you two pretty much acted like you were in a relationship, but neither of you would say the words or wholeheartedly acknowledge that fact. 

There was a lot that you two would eventually have to talk about, but you decided that that would be a bridge that you’d cross once you were hours away from getting on your flight back to California. And it was a flight that kept changing because you didn’t want to leave New York just yet; you didn’t want to leave Steve yet. 

So, your weekend trip extended days upon days until Wednesday came and it was agreed upon that you’d just go back to Los Angeles Friday morning when Steve was heading back there as well because that was the same day as the movie premiere.

You had a little work to do during those first few weekdays you were there, but you found it easy to respond to emails and make the phone calls you needed to from the comfort of Steve’s apartment, which was smaller than his place in LA but of course still massive and had a great view of Central Park. The dining room area became your makeshift “work from home” spot with your laptop at the table at pretty much all times. And while you did that, Steve was off doing press stuff for the movie, or he was in meetings; the things aside from filming that came along with being a famous actor. 

And then when the day would change into the evening and then night, you two were together, doing everything that you both had desperately missed doing. You two still knew each other’s bodies so well, and it was as if that fact was only further and further proven every night. 

It was hard not to be close to each other when for so long, you hadn’t been able to be, and because of that, things became a little different this time around in comparison to what the “arrangement” had been. There were little touches and affections— holding hands while sitting as close as you possibly could on the couch or Steve kissing you goodbye before he’d leave the apartment— that hadn’t happened before because of the lines that had been metaphorically drawn, but they felt pretty blurred now. 

A sort of routine quickly and almost effortlessly formed and it gave you that glimpse into what you and him could be if the circumstances were slightly different. And it was hard not to admit that you completely adored what this “what if” looked like. 

“We need snacks.” Your words were random and abrupt and Steve only looked at you amusingly. 

It was Wednesday night, days before things would inevitably change, and you weren’t completely sure what they’d change into— if they’d go back to the normal you had created with Steve where the two of you were friends and nothing more, or if things changed into something else entirely. You still completely avoided thinking about it all, and it was pretty damn nice living in this fantasy world. 

The two of you were on the couch in his living room. Your legs were draped over his lap and a blanket covered you both.

One of Steve’s hands was absentmindedly rubbing your leg beneath the blanket as he spoke. “There’s some stuff in the pantry.” 

“If we’re about to spend the entire night watching The Hunger Games movies we need more than just the chips to keep us alive.” 

His eyebrows furrowed at your words. “Am I underestimating how long these movies are?”

“You definitely are,” You said with a small laugh and pressed a quick kiss against his lips. You then pulled off the blanket that had been draped over the both of you and stood up from the couch. “I’ll go to the convenience store down the street.” 

Steve got up as well. “I’ll come too.” 

You quickly shook your head. “No way. It’s kinda insane how the paparazzi seem way more ruthless here. I think they’re always camping outside the building.” 

Over the past few days, you had come to the conclusion that it was lucky that Steve lived in an apartment building because whenever you would leave and come back, no one could ever know that you were there for him. And you knew just how big of a field day they would have if they did know, especially because of the dating rumors that were still circling about him and Lily.

“Yeah, way too many famous people live here,” Steve said as he followed you into his bedroom.

Your small suitcase, that had only been meant for a weekend trip and was packed as such, was a haphazard mess in the corner. You slipped off the shorts you were wearing and pulled on a black pair of leggings.  

“And yet, I’ve still not run into Paul Rudd on the elevator since I’ve been here,” You jokingly said and expected Steve to laugh, but instead he bypassed your statement.  

“Wait, it’s raining. You sure you’re gonna be okay out there?” 

You smiled at his slightly concerned face. “Okay, I know I’ve been living in LA for a long time now, but don’t worry I have in fact experienced rain before.” 

Steve shook his head at you but still couldn’t help but laugh a little at your words. “Hold on.” 

He almost immediately walked away, heading into his closet, before you could ask him what he was doing, and then returned moments later with a hoodie and umbrella. 

“I was already planning to steal a hoodie, but thanks for the umbrella,” You told him with a smile as you put on the plain black hoodie. “What kind of candy do you want me to get?”

“Skittles.” 

“Solid answer,” You responded with a nod. 

The two of you headed toward the front door and you put on your shoes that were next to it. Once you were done, Steve handed you the umbrella. He then pulled the hood of the hoodie over your head and then leaned in to press a kiss on your nose. “Don’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator.”

You laughed a bit. “I’m sorry, but I really, really hope I do.” 

You didn’t meet Paul Rudd on the elevator, and you told Steve that with an over dramatic sad sigh when you came back from the store twenty minutes later, a bag full of junk food in hand, before you both settled back on the couch.

The two of you were only able to fully watch the first two Hunger Games movies before falling asleep an hour into the third one, around two in the morning. You half-woke up when the credits were rolling and then lightly poked Steve awake so that you two could go to his actual bed for the rest of the night.

“This is how it would be, y’know,” Steve said in the morning, words slightly getting lost in your hair.

The two of you were cuddled in his bed, your back pressed against his front and one of his arms draped over your waist. You had just finished having a half-awake discussion about what to do for breakfast before he said that he had to leave soon for the final day of press interviews for the movie, but he told you about a bagel place nearby that you’d probably like. And then the conversation shifted to a pinky promise agreement that you and him would finish the final two Hunger Games movies that night. 

Things became quiet after that, with both of you savoring the last few minutes you could spend in bed, and you found his hand, intertwining it with yours and pulling it up to kiss the back of it. 

You almost shifted around to face Steve after he abruptly said his previous words, but you felt too comfortable in your current position to do so. “How what would be?”

“You and me if we decided to be something real.”

 “Steve,” You said softly and then decided to shift around so that you were looking at him. His hair was a little disheveled and he looked pretty tired, but he also looked so cute. If he hadn’t just abruptly pushed open the door to the conversation that you knew needed to happen, you were certain that you would’ve kissed him right then. 

“I’m just saying...” He said as his shoulders upturned in a small shrug. “Also, I’m slightly kidding. This week has been really good, and I’m glad we got to have it, but I know things will go back to… normal soon. And that’s okay.” 

Hearing him say that— confirming that things would just go back to how they were, a friendship where you both seemed to just lie about what you really wanted and how you felt— made you get hit with the sudden realization that you hated the thought of going back to that.

However, for some reason, you couldn’t find the words to tell him that right then, so instead you nodded at what he had just said and plastered on a fake smile. You made your voice sound as light as possible. “Yeah.” 

He left the apartment forty-minutes later and you left it twenty minutes after that, deciding to go to the bagel place he suggested because you were hungry and also because you didn’t want to be alone in his apartment with only your confusing and contradicting thoughts to keep you company. 

However, somehow as you walked aimlessly around Central Park— your bag with your plain cream cheese bagel in one hand and iced coffee in the other— that was when it felt like the dam broke, and your mind started spiraling because it finally felt impossible to keep avoiding and pushing your thoughts away. You were finally facing the bridge that you had told yourself you’d eventually have to cross, and in your head, you could see that the end of it was leading in two completely different directions. And you knew the exact direction you wanted to go in. 

Your friendship with Steve was supposed to be more than enough. That was what you had told yourself that night at the wrap party to convince yourself that you were completely okay with only having a friendship with him. 

But now, after these past five days of getting that glimpse into what something more could look like, you knew that just being friends really wasn’t enough, and it never would be. And although a part of you still felt a little scared to risk it all, there was an even bigger part of you that didn’t want to give this up anymore. 

You couldn’t give up how completely and irrevocably happy Steve made you in more ways than just friendship. It was a mixture of the butterflies you’d get in your stomach whenever he would pull you close to him to press a soft kiss against your forehead or cheek and the wide smile you’d get on your face when he’d come back to the apartment after being gone for hours. It was also how he would look at you so adoringly when you would ramble about work stuff and how he could easily manage to convince you to stay in bed for “five more minutes;” five minutes that would always turn into at least ten but you never cared. 

Steve Harrington made you the happiest you’d ever been and you suddenly became tired of continuously avoiding that fact.  

It was a series of quick but definitely long overdue actions that happened next. 

You found yourself sitting on a park bench with the thought of eating your bagel or drinking more of your coffee long forgotten for the time being, and instead they simply sat next to you, because there was something else you needed to do at that moment. You pulled out your phone and went to Steve’s contact, pressing the call button before you could think twice about it. 

It went straight to voicemail, just like you knew it would because he always kept it off during interviews, so you waited for the way too familiar “beep” sound and then started speaking. 

“Hi,” Your voice came out softer than you expected it to, so you cleared your throat. “I knew that you weren’t gonna answer, and I’m kinda glad that you didn’t because I just want to get all of this out all at once. So, stay tuned for a very long-winded ramble from me.” You let out a small laugh. “Um, anyway, these past five days that I’ve been here in New York with you have been so good, like insanely good, and I’ve been avoiding thinking about what would happen after this and what would exactly change between us. And I was completely okay with not thinking about any of that because it made it easier to just live in the moment and be happy with what we’ve been doing. But then this morning, you said that it’s okay that things will go back to normal soon and that finally made me think about everything, and I realized that I don’t want us to go back to “normal.” I actually kind of hate the thought of doing so.” 

You stopped for a moment, gaze becoming fixated on a group of friends that had blankets spread out in the grass and were having a picnic not that far away from you, and then you looked at a couple that was walking down one of the paths holding hands. 

After taking a quick breath, you kept going. “You’re so important to me, and our friendship is so important to me too… But I love you. I’m in love with you. And because of that, I can’t just be your friend. I want more, I want us to be something real; and that’s pretty much exactly what you said that night at my apartment almost a year ago. I’m so sorry that it’s taken me this long to realize just how fucking great we are together.”  

Your hand that wasn’t holding your phone to your ear began absentmindedly playing with the hem of the sweatshirt you were wearing; it was the Vancouver crewneck he got for you.

“I want us to have days like this past week forever. And I know that this week has kind of been a fluke because, for the first time in a really long time, our schedules worked out pretty well. But we can make this work. I know we can. I was an idiot to say that we don’t make sense before because we do. Yes, our lives pull us in pretty different directions most of the time, and it sucks, but it's okay because it doesn’t change how I feel about you, and it never will. And I think that's the most important thing. It's why I know we, us, can actually work.”  

You leaned back against the wooden bench and let out a breath. “Okay, wow, I’m so surprised that I haven’t been cut off yet… I’m currently sitting on a park bench in Central Park, and I got a bagel and coffee from the place you mentioned. I haven’t tried the bagel yet, but the coffee’s pretty good…” You trailed off with a shake of your head and then laughed a bit. “I have no idea why I’m telling you that right now. Um, anyway, I’m gonna stop talking now, and I’ll see you back at the apartment later. Bye.” 

When you ended the call and pocketed your phone away, you felt an immediate weight lift off of your shoulders and you let out a contented sigh that turned into a small laugh. 

You waited for a second, though, waited for something that resembled dread or regret to suddenly hit you, but it never did. And that was what let you know that what you’d just done was fully the right thing to do. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hours later, you still felt nothing but complete contentment with what you had done, leaving the minute and a half long voicemail that would, in fact, change everything. You wanted it to change everything. 

After responding to a handful of work emails and then enduring an hour-long phone call with one of the Producer’s of the soon-to-be filming documentary, you were in the kitchen searching for some sort of a snack to eat. However, hearing the sound of the front door opening halted your rummaging. 

“Hi,” You said, watching Steve enter the apartment and then close and lock the door behind him. 

He met your eyes almost immediately. “I really loved that voicemail.”

You smiled at him, at how quickly he wanted to address the elephant in the room before it really even had a chance to enter. “Yeah?”

He didn’t hesitate to nod his head and he smiled back at you. “Yeah. I’m never deleting it.”

He looked so happy as he walked over to you where you were leaning against the kitchen island, and that look made your heart constrict in your chest. 

“I love you,” It didn’t feel the tiniest bit scary to say the words right to him, they just felt so honest and undeniable. Your voice was soft and your arms came up to wrap around his neck, hands immediately finding home in the hair at the nape. 

“Mm,” His eyes slipped shut as his arms circled around you, pulling you against him.  “Say it again.” 

Your mouth was right against his ear as you spoke. “I love you.” 

He hummed again and then pulled back a bit, his nose brushed against yours and his lips did the same. It was all so teasing, like he wanted to take his absolute time with kissing you. However, now it didn’t have to be slow or drawn out because none of this was going to abruptly end; there was no expiration date apart of this like the arrangement you had a year ago. 

“I love you too,” He said before finally slotting his lips against yours.  

There was so much expressed in the soft kiss. It completely felt like the beginning of something new, something better, rather than simply a continuation of what you two had. The kiss was so certain and sure and it only further confirmed to you that everything happening was right and good and perfect. This was what you had wanted from the moment the two of you made that pinky promise during the wrap party; the one where you both said that you wouldn’t let your friendship end. Technically, it wasn’t being broken. 

You pulled away when you started feeling lightheaded and you met Steve’s gaze as you allowed yourself to breathe for a bit. You were quiet for only a second. 

“This will work,” You whispered. 

Steve nodded and then pressed a kiss to your forehead. “Yeah, it will.” 

The three simple words comforted you, they wrapped around you like a warm blanket, and you savored the feel of them. For the first time, probably ever, your overthinking mind felt sated; it couldn’t find anything wrong about this moment. You finally felt like you could breathe so goddamn easy because there was nothing to truly worry about, and you found yourself wanting to cry at that feeling, but you didn’t. Instead, you kissed Steve’s cheek and then his other one, and then his nose and forehead. 

“This is random, but I’m really, really glad that I was forced to be your assistant.” 

Steve laughed a bit at that. “Sometimes it doesn’t even really feel like that's where we started.” His hands found yours, intertwining them and giving them a light squeeze. “But, I’m so fucking glad that it was you.” 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

author’s note: i'm gonna miss these two<333 i hope yall enjoyed this series! its been a rollercoaster fr (a good one for the most part though lol) i might do lil blurbs for these two someday because i'm way too attached to them and i have some minor ideas of some things i'd wanna do involving them.... but that probably won't happen for a while because after somehow being able to put out chapters weekly for this i do in fact need a Break lmao but anyway thank you for reading and enjoying this series🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

[theundercoversquid]

The Car Crash

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Reader

Summary: When you and Stephen were driving to one of his parties, he was in a rush

Warnings: Car crash, Injury description, blood

A/N: I had the idea for this before the episode of What If came out. I just had no motivation to write it. Especially after the episode came out as I didn't want people to think I was copying. But it has sat in my notes for long enough. (For those interested, I started this on August 19th 2021)

Masterlist

Somehow, Stephen had persuaded you to come to his latest Neurological Society dinner. He was meant to be speaking, and as the lovely wife that you are. You agreed to go and support him. Not that he needed support. Stephen had enough of an ego to support himself. But it was always lovely to see him talk about something he was passionate about. His face lit up. And Stephen did many things to support you. It was only fair you returned the sentiment.

You watched Stephen from where you were sat. You had already donned your outfit and all the necessary accessory. Now you were waiting for Stephen to pick a watch. You could see him look at the watches. His hand hovering over them. Before he finally settled on the one you had bought him.

The watch had been a gift from your first Christmas as a couple. You had been slightly nervous about giving it to him. But as you watched, his face lit up when he first got it. You knew it had been perfect. The watch was always Stephens go to one. It was the one he wore the most and the one he showed off the most.

When Stephen safely secured the watch around his wrist, he turned to you. Smiling, he extended his arm. You stood up and looped your arm around his as he led you to the elevator at the front of his apartment. Pressing the call button, you and Stephen stepped in.

The elevator sunk. Taking you and Stephen lower and lower until you reached the garage. Where Stephen led you to his Lamborghini. Opening the door, Stephen held it open as you slipped in.

"My gentleman." You tease him. Stephen just smiled at you as he closed the door and jogged around to the other side.

Opening his door. Stephen slips in and squeezes your leg before starting the car up. Leaving the apartment complex. Stephen sped off. You were whipping through traffic like a fish through water. You didn't bother warning Stephen that he was driving drastically over the speed limit. You had tried multiple times at the beginning of your relationship, and nothing had changed. So instead, you started up a gentle conversation with your loving husband.

But Stephan was in a rush. When the two of you got stuck behind a truck, you could see Stephan's thought process. Reaching out. You placed a hand on Stephen's thigh to try to calm him down and stop him from rushing. But it would appear that Stephan was in too much of a rush as he pulled out. Pressing down on the accelerator, Stephan rushed forwards.

The only problem was that another car came around at the same time. Slamming into your and Stephan's vehicle. The car pushed you off the highway.

Spiralling out of control as you plummeted. You smashed your head into the side of the car, knocking yourself unconscious.

When you came to. You were aware of searing pain in the side of your head and your ribs. You could hear a faint beeping next to you. Alerting you to the fact that you were in a hospital.

Forcing your eyelids open. You spotted Stephen next to you. He was sitting in a wheelchair as he was fast asleep. Your eyes travelled up and down his body so you could ascertain the damage that he had sustained. And it seemed that he was worse than you were.

You could see his precious hands bundle in gauze, and you worried. Because if he lost his hands that he may have lost his life. For you knew that Stephen valued his hands above all else.

Reaching a hand out, you tentatively placed it against his arm. Getting the comfort of having your lover near by was enough to lull you back to sleep. But. Before rest could fully take you. You heard Stephen whisper your name.

Turning your head to look at him. You gave him a smile.

"Hello, handsome." You whispered.

"Your awake." Stephen grinned at you.

"I am." You agreed.

"I was worried you wouldn't," Stephen told you.

"You aren't getting rid of me that easily." You teased him.

"As long as you don't go anywhere, I will be fine," Stephen assured you. "You are all I need."

"Don't worry." You assured him. "I would follow you to the end of the world."

And little did you know. You would end up following through on that promise. When Stephen decided he wanted to go to Kamar-Taj, you came with him. And when he became sorcerer supreme, you became his right-hand woman. For the two of you were inseparable, and nothing would change that.

[obislittleone]

The Winner Takes It All

Episode 13

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Tribute(OC)!Reader

Chapter Warnings: This one's dark dark... Mentions of sexual abuse, human trafficking, murder, burning alive, mentions of blood. Mentions of suicide, suicide attempt, depression and anxiety.

Chapter Summary: One tribute remains in the arena with Mercedes... but which one?

Word Count: 3.5k

hello people yes i'm sorry for the delay I've been busy setting up a store front (I know I said I was not gonna be busy but I guess more things started happening so) but I will be getting back to posting I swear.

The dress you’re wearing is now drenched, as your hips are fully submerged. It was white and purple, stingrays printed all over the fabric. It was quite beautiful, but not so much now that it clung to your skin. The dark woolen sweater overtop wasn’t doing anything to warm you, not like that was your objective, anyway. You got deeper than last time, the water drenching your shoulders. You let your eyes close, and let your steps take you until you heard paddling behind you. 

Finnick went to bed. He knows that he's done everything he can do, and that there are only two tributes left. He’s given everything he has and if it isn’t enough, he knows he can’t stand to watch it play out in front of him. Even though he believes in you, on the off chance that he’s wrong, he can’t watch you die. 

So he goes to bed. 

He doesn’t sleep, mind you… there’s no way in hell he could, but he locks himself away in his room, no screens, no capitol pigs to entertain, and no victors to talk to. He doesn’t want anyone’s company but yours right now. He keeps thinking about the last glimpse he had of you. The bare skin of your shoulder as you boarded the jet. It was so simple, so unimportant, and yet it burned itself into his mind. If that’s his last memory of you, he knows it will be well preserved for the rest of his life. He tried to remember the last glimpse he had of last year's tributes but he can’t for the life of him come up with any imagery. Hell, he doesn’t even remember his last glimpse of Lukas.

He sits alone past sundown, about three or four hours. He can hear no cheering in the capitol outside of his window, nor can he hear the thunderous applause from several floors below him. 

He starts getting anxious when he hears the noises of anticipation growing from the balcony of the winner’s circle, and so he closes his window to make sure the whispers of the outside cannot dictate his mind… as if they had the power to, anyway. His mind was still on you, your soft skin, the way he’d seen you in the silken nightgown after your interview. You’d been so soft, so angelic. You were mercy in its purest form, and he cannot think of a better word to describe you. What was once a threat to your chances in the games would now always be on his mind as a reminder of who you truly are. Whether you come out of that arena or not, he knows the word will echo through his brain always. Mercy, Mercy, Mercy…

He had rested his head against his pillows, nearly finding rest when it all fell apart. 

The silence was broken, and the thunderous applause of the outside sent him jolting into action. 

He cannot explain the terrible feeling he had there and then, but he knows it can’t mean anything good. 

He practically tears through the apartment to turn on the screen, and he can’t believe what’s happened.

-

It was later in the evening, the waters of four sloshing around your ankles as you did your best to slowly merge deeper into them. It’s been a long time, but you’re tired of the nasty looks, tired of all the bullying and name calling. Tired of never being able to get a word out without stares or laughs or your head pounding from the stress of producing a single sentence. Your mind was too fast for your mouth, and it was getting to be unbearable. You hate the way you sound, the way others perceive you. You hate yourself and the fact that you can’t be balanced or coherent. 

The last time you tried this, you had every intention of coming out, but you’d needed saving, as usual. No one was here, this time, and that’s how you wanted it. 

Your mother will miss you, that’s for sure. Your father will grieve you in his long days of work, and you imagine a certain young fisherman will have to find ways to pass the time without you… but you can’t stand another day in this world. This world built by the Capitol of Panem is a cruel enough place without adding a speech impediment and crushing anxiety into the mix.

You step deeper and deeper, and the water is cold this time of night. It sends a shiver up your spine that makes you wrap your arms around yourself. You do your best to keep the tears at bay. They don’t really do anything but make this harder. Your body is already reaping the nasty consequences of your decision, you don’t need to be racking sobs on top of it. 

You start shaking in fear and adrenaline when the water reaches your knees, something that shouldn’t make even the smallest child in four tremble. You contemplate letting your weight take you out, falling over would let nature take its course but for some reason you are insistent upon doing it this way. You have to secure the outcome, and sinking this shallow won’t do you any favors. 

The dress you’re wearing is now drenched, as your hips are fully submerged. It was white and purple, stingrays printed all over the fabric. It was quite beautiful, but not so much now that it clung to your skin. The dark woolen sweater overtop wasn’t doing anything to warm you, not like that was your objective, anyway. You got deeper than last time, the water drenching your shoulders.

You let your eyes close, and let your steps take you until you heard paddling behind you. 

“Mercedes! What the hell are you doing?” 

And again to your rescue came the boy you would miss most. 

He got close enough to wrap his arms around you, and you threw yourself into him, eyes bawling a river of tears that could make the tide rise in this ocean. He saved you, he always would. He’d been there since the beginning, and he’d be there till the end. If ever there was something to happen to him, you weren’t sure what you would do. 

Without him, you would need another to protect you. Not because you needed saving from others, but often because you needed saving from yourself. 

He sat on the beach with you, helping you calm down, using his jacket he’d left on the sands to help dry you off and keep you warm. He’d walk you back to your home, but he figured that was the last place you’d want to be on account of giving an explanation. 

“What were you trying to do?” He asked, but he didn’t need to. He’d already known by the slow and steady pacing you’d held that you didn’t plan on stopping. He knew you were trying to get rid of your problems once and for all.

You stayed silent, a few hiccups and tears resurfacing at his question. He knew, and you knew… you had wanted to die. 

“Why wouldn’t you talk to me?” Was his next question, and this time you felt you owed him an answer, but he wasn’t done. “If I hadn’t been here-”

“I’m s-so sorry, Lukas.”

He hugged you tighter into his side, the pain in his own chest increasing when he heard how hurt you still were through your voice. 

“Don’t be sorry. Just please, talk to me the next time you get an idea like that. Promise me you will,” he knew it was juvenile, but he held his pinky up anyways, just like when you both were children and made him use the meaningless motion. 

You took it, locking fingers but not letting go yet. You let your hands sink to the sand the way they were intertwined, and kept your head rested on his shoulder. 

“If someone had found you washed up tomorrow, I don’t know what I would do… I don’t think I’d ever get over it if you died.”

You felt terrible, not just because it was a foolish mistake on a depressive whim, but because you would have affected not only his life, but the lives of your family on account of a really bad day. 

“You can’t die, Mercedes… I’m sorry, but I won’t let you.”

You jolted awake, your head slamming back against the tree you were sleeping by. You didn’t have time to think, or to process a thing, because the sound of the twig snapping in the distance put you on guard. 

Your knife was in your hand, and you had to be prepared to face either Estelle or Brock. Both outcomes would be easily accounted for. You had no intention of losing anymore. There was a venom in your veins, a fiery need for revenge. It consumed you. 

The note that Finnick sent you wasn’t just telling you to kill this tribute, it was telling you something more. 

Show no Mercy. Don’t be merciful, but also, don’t be you. Forget yourself, and become something you swore you wouldn’t. You would have just given up and died had it been a different situation. Had your best friend’s blood not been staining your body. 

Out from the shadows of the humid forest, and into the light of your torch flame, Estelle stepped forward, her knife in her hands, and a wicked look on her face. 

“I would never have expected it to be us,” She said, her mouth twitching into a smirk. What kind of game was this to her? 

The hunger games are a terrible thing for all involved, but some tributes… they like it. The way they get to kill and be praised for it. She’s one of them. 

“You k-killed Brock?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as if annoyed you would even question it. 

“When it comes down to three tributes, you can’t keep allies. I knew I could kill you, but it was easier to kill him first. He wasn’t expecting to die before you, so it was pretty easy. Stabbed him in the back, literally.”

You twisted your face in disgust. You would give anything for Lukas to be alive right now, and here she is, bragging shamelessly about killing her ally. 

“You s-should have waited.”

She looked at you with surprise, taking more steps towards you while flipping her knife in her hand. 

“We’ll see.”

She stepped at you immediately with a swing of her weapon, but you had been on pins and needles, dodging the attack and trying to get the upper hand. You weren’t skilled in combat. You didn’t know what you were doing. She caught you off guard, pinning you to the tree and trying to dig her knife into your skull. 

The advantage you did have was your strength. You were able to push her arm back, keeping the knife a good distance away while being able to slash yours back over her shoulder, the blood splattering your face and your hair. She yelped in pain, but was back on you, chasing you the few steps you took away from the tree. 

“Get over here,” she sneered, her energy becoming more vapid and ruthless as she started swinging aimlessly with all the strength she had. You were able to get out of the entanglement and carefully lead her back towards the tree, but on the other side. You purposely fell out of the way and over the gathering of rocks you’d formed, landing on your back. Looking up at her, your knife had been lost in the dirt, and she had every right to believe she had the upper hand. 

“I’ve worked my entire life for this, and killing you,” she pointed her knife at you, her steps slowly coming forward until she was right where you wanted her. “Is going to be the most satisfying thing I’ll ever do.”

“I’m n-not afraid to d-die.” 

She scoffed, stepping forward one more time, losing her balance on the hidden tripwire. You quickly shuffled back when she fell forward, watching as your woven rope trap fell from the tree canopy above. The rocks attached to the four corners weighed her down, and she’d lost sight of her knife. 

“I’ve n-never been afraid to die… I’m afraid t-to live.”

You stood up next to the tree, taking in your hands the lit torch you’d set up earlier. You came before her once more, a pitying look on your face, but it wasn’t for her. 

“I guess I’ll have to f-face my fears.” 

And with that, you dropped the torch onto the rope, watching it catch faster than a candle wick. 

A mound of giant flames was seen, and an abundance of screams and painful cries were heard, but you didn’t wince. There was no compassion in you for the one who took away from you what you had held so dear. There was nothing you wanted anymore. 

You fell to your knees upon hearing the cannon, and curled into yourself with your hands over your head to try and dull the sound. You’ll be traumatized by cannonfire for the rest of your life, you know it. Even hearing it now, and feeling the fire still ablaze before you, you cannot feel peace. 

Your enemy is defeated, the person who took everything from you is gone, but it didn’t 

satisfy you. You still felt empty, and cold, despite the fire, and despite whom it consumed.

You only stood back up when you heard the canopy of the trees part over your head, a carrier lowering itself to take you away. It sounded crazy, and you know that mentally you shouldn’t even be thinking this, but you don’t want to leave this arena. You don’t want to leave Lukas here without you, and you don’t want to leave the place you last saw him alive. You have no intention of getting on the craft until it lands, and several men begin to pull and prod at you until you’ve boarded. 

You take one last glance at the rainforest behind you before the door raises and closes. You’ll never see it again. Never see Lukas again. Never see any of your allies again. Twenty-four tributes went in, and you came out… and you hate everything about that. 

-

His heart was pounding, his footsteps racing. People spoke to him as he walked by, but he didn’t hear any of it. They were all muted in his sense of urgency. It was real, but he had to see for himself, touch for himself. 

It was quick and all at once, the relief, the anxiety, and a new rush of sorrowful emotions. A cycle of the three, rotating constantly and turning his stomach over each time. He sees the back of your shoulder and arm, the only thing visible from behind the separation curtain between each medical bed. He never understood why there were so many. There was always only one winner. It’s not like this was a hospital. 

His feet still carried him, the walkway, though crowded with a team of experienced staff, were no match for him. He barreled through, earning little protest from anyone. He supposed it was a perk of being a Capitol darling, no one could ever tell him no in a setting like this. 

Your back faced him. Your hair, once braided in a unique and athletic style by Dalton, had been completely destroyed, strands sticking out, some covered in a dried red substance he didn’t care to think about right now. It had been all over you.

“Mercedes,” his whispered word reached your ears, and you turned your head. Bloodshot eyes gazed back into his, and the entire world stopped for you. 

He’s right there. The thought you’d been holding onto in the arena. The mentor who had taken such good care of you both in and out of the games. The only one you wanted to see right now. 

Due to his stillness, you almost thought him to be a figment of your imagination, a culmination of your dwindling sanity that somehow managed to form an actual manifestation… but then he stepped forward, once, twice, three times. 

He was careful, treating you like a scared animal. He’s seen what people can be like when they come back from the games. Sometimes they can’t tell that they’re no longer in them. He didn’t want to freak you out, or even make you feel the slightest bit uneasy.

“Finnick,” your eyes welled up with tears for the millionth time, and you tried your best not to let them fall now. This was a happy moment, don’t cry. Be happy. You survived the hunger games. It wasn’t even supposed to be you. 

He came close, not yet touching what he didn't know he could. You weren’t stiff by any means, but you just seemed so monotonous. So still and weak, and still scared. He took the moment to look at you more. Blood was smeared on your face, your neck, your arms. There were few places it wasn’t residing. 

He couldn’t help but reach up with one hand, his fingertips brushing over your shoulder. It had been the last thing he saw of you, and now the first. He hoped you weren’t so damaged from how you’d been when he saw you last. You had so much you needed to tell him,  he’d remembered. He remembered because it was his hope for you to come back.

“Are you hurt?” He knew he should have added a word, but it slipped his brain. Physically, are you hurt physically?

You shook your head, understanding what he meant. You didn’t want to have to ask, but you wanted his comfort, wanted his embrace. You just survived the worst tragedy someone of your age could experience, and yet, were too scared to ask for a simple hug. 

“W-will you-” you stopped short, the question hiding behind your teeth. You took a shallow breath and met his eyes. “Will you h-hold me?”

“Yes.”

His arms didn't hesitate to move of their own accord. They swarmed around your bare shoulders, smudging the dried blood around and making it feel crusty beneath his long sleeve shirt. He could care less. This shirt could never be worn again and yet he would sacrifice every shirt he had if it meant keeping you here and now, in his embrace. It comforted you, it helped you find peace. 

You hadn’t been able to think or speak of anything else since you left that arena. He was the happy thought on the carrier ride, and in the transport truck, and now even here in the medical ward. He was the sustainability that you craved to go on. You still wished it had been you. Someone else should be sitting here and thinking about going home. It should be Rodey or Lukas or Lyra. The people who saved you from harm and protected you when all else were out to kill you. You didn't blame those kids, either. They were just playing by the rules, doing what they were told. 

You didn't even want to go home. You didn't know what you would do when you got there. You didn't know if you could look your mother in the eye after what you had done. Your father would be ashamed of you. Your little brother would have to grow up with your reputation hanging over his head. You're a murderer, and a nasty one at that. 

The worst part about Estelle's death was that you didn't regret it. You were happy to stand there and kill her, completely enthused to watch her body be consumed in flames while she flailed about, burning to a crisp. It gave you a sense of pride, that justice had been done for your allies, the ones who should have won. 

She's the only thing about the games you don't regret. You should have stopped the venom from killing Lyra, you should have shoved off Rodey when he went to take the hit for you, and you should have pulled Lukas into the water. Those were the biggest regrets. 

Here and now, with everything that was at stake, you shouldn't be here. You should still be in the arena, or wherever they lay the tributes to rest after the games are over. 

Finnick felt you tense in his arms a few times, and he knew it was probably due to your thoughts. He remembers how badly they tortured him when he came home. His guilt was riding on his shoulders for weeks, all hidden under a stunning smile, of course. It was all he could do to mask how horribly he really felt. It wasn't long after that he’d been asked to start his favors for Snow. 

He'd been thinking about that all of last night. When he didn't know if you were going to live or die, he thought about all the things that could happen in either scenario. If you won, you'd be dealt the cards that he was. If you lost, you could escape it in peace. If you won, he'd be able to hold you just like he's doing now, but if you lost, he'd have to suffer the loss of you. He'd have thought about you every time he looked at a new promising tribute. He'd have to think about the promise he made himself and how he'd not only failed to honor it, but failed to save you. 

He shook it all out of his head. You were here, and you were alive. His sweet Mercy.

“I'm gonna take care of you. I promise.”

-

tags(open): @thepassionatereader @i-voluntears @secretsicanthideanymore @mystargirl-interlude @c4ttheart @lilibrn @emma-andrea1 @marvelescvpe

[prince-liest]

Hey, since you've written a lot of Alastor-centric fics that explore him having complex relationships with other characters, I was wondering if you had any wip about Alastor & Husk, or just any hcs about them in general!! I find it interesting that Husk is the only one who knows about his deal...

And yes the fact that Alastor owns Husk' soul is pretty bad for any development in their relationship lol. But it also adds flavor to their dynamic! (and Alastor hasn't been THAT abusive with him so far in regards to their contract? He made a death threat but he didn't need to own Husk' soul to do that. He forces him to work at the hotel but Husk used to use the souls he owned like pawns he could gamble away, treating people like property he could afford to lose to other "masters", so he's not worse that Husk in comparison... That's an insanely low bar, I know)

Current WIPS, no, headcanons, yes!

I think their relationship is very interesting, and a lot of that specifically comes from Husk's side of things. I'm honestly fully putting aside the issue of how abusive Alastor has or hasn't been to him, because in the end, slavery is slavery (assuming that's the power that Husk's contract grants) even if one overlord isn't as sadistic as another (Husk himself included), BUT:

I think it's very interesting that Husk and Alastor clearly have a long-term working relationship that includes Husk giving at least half of a shit about Alastor. Their interaction during Mimzy's episode is not very long but I think it is very telling. Obviously it's telling about Alastor's intolerance toward his power and position being questioned, and it's also telling about how much Alastor has been undermined that even someone who knows him like Husk is expressing doubt... but I think its also particularly telling that it includes Husk reaching out to watch Alastor's back (before Alastor bites his head off for it).

I think it's hard to say exactly why he does it - how much of it is because he knows that Alastor getting in trouble also means Husk getting in trouble, how much of it is because Husk is growing to care about the hotel, especially after his episode with Angel, and how much of it is because he's grown attached to Alastor in a weird way over the years, but I personally like to think it's a combination of all three.

Husk was a powerful overlord and I think that's very in line with his portrayal of being someone who distances himself from people in callous ways... but ends up caring more than he intends to when he does get close to them. We most clearly see this with Angel Dust, but I think it's also reflected in his callousness as an overlord and how it turned into regret once he lost his soul to Alastor, and also how he occasionally reacts to the people he's known a long time: namely, Alastor (during the Mimzy episode) and Niffty (when she gets drunk at the club)!

I think Alastor and Husk's lives have been intertwined for a long time, and I also think that it's hard not to grow to care about another person on some level as a result, even if you also heavily resent them, especially if their well-being is your well-being. I don't think Husk likes Alastor very much (it would be hard to in his position) but I don't think he sees Alastor's ownership of his soul as having taken advantage of him so much as a natural consequences of the games he himself played with people's souls, which lets him sit in a position that to him feels less like "victim" and more like "beleaguered subordinate."

And Alastor also does put some effort into keeping things with Husk copacetic. He loses his cool and snaps at him during their confrontation, but outside of that context the attitude he maintains seems to include both being a smarmy jackass and giving Husk actual reasons to work for him other than "or else." It's technically not canon to the show, but I personally consider his bribing of Husk with drink to work for the hotel in the pilot to be canon to my interpretations, at least. It makes sense to me that Alastor wants to maintain a decent working relationship, as opposed to one where Husk would be more inclined to actively sell him out for a dime rather than marinate in his own resignation.

Anyway. Long post! But I think they're interesting, haha.

[dollarstorefern]

i included this scene because it’s an amazing instance of the core idea of the show, words versus actions, “everybody lies” versus “truth begins in lies”, the lines of the theme song itself, “love, love is a verb, love is a doing word”. house repeats the idea that everybody lies and that words are meaningless, because they are to him! what he says isn’t reflective of any truth, only his fears and deflections, whereas his actions are constantly contradicting what he says.

it's insane to really think about the way house believes wilson and cuddy view him, the way he talks about the way THEY talk about him. he says something along the lines of "the house problem", thinking that’s all they view him as. he believes that they believe he's incapable of functioning in a stable and healthy way; house essentially believes that he burdens wilson and cuddy. and how dehumanizing must that be?

i feel like we can tie this back to that one scene in season three, wilson’s "i was afraid your wings would melt" and house’s "god doesn't limp". house's self-perception is so… interesting to me. but that scene right there, that confirms to me that house is wrong! his beliefs are just fears! wilson is comparing house to icarus, which is so humanizing in a way. the fact that, in this instance wilson is implying that house is destined for a fate in which his pride overcomes him, in which house believes he may reach divinity, yet house objects this idea by implying that he himself never believed he could reach this divinity in the first place. he believes that, at the end of the day, he is too impure, too flawed, too broken to be anything amazing, let alone human; oftentimes, house implies that he views himself as subhuman. but there’s more to the comparison than wilson and house’s conflicting views of house himself. if house is icarus, to wilson, then who is daedalus, other than wilson himself? who is the one that watches this fallout, who is the one that helped craft the very thing that caused this death, other than wilson himself?

sure, i believe that we can all agree that cuddy enables house to a certain degree. but she does it without having a dependency on house, unlike wilson. while cuddy can draw the line, she can leave it all behind to do what she believes is best for herself and her family, wilson is stuck where he is. wilson enables house because their relationship is dependent on this back and forth between house and wilson, the idea that they themselves discuss, where wilson feeds upon neediness and house is a beacon of neediness himself.

wilson is the one that is always there for house, he is the one that dealt with house after his leg surgery and his breakup with stacy, he was the one that was there for house before and after mayfield, and house ends up reversing this and being the only one for wilson when he's dying of cancer in the end.

and to bring back the theme song, as i mentioned earlier, "love, love is a verb, love is a doing word" as well as house' s infamous quote, "everybody lies". these two go hand in hand in my opinion. wilson tells house that he's leaving him, leaving the hospital itself, after amber’s death, yet he returns just a few episodes later, being there for house when house’s father dies, even though house wasn’t really there for wilson the way wilson wanted him to be after amber died. house can't tell wilson he loves him when wilson asks house to say it, he blatantly refuses to say it, but he fakes his death to make sure wilson gets to fully live his last five months, a proclamation of love more meaningful and powerful than the words themselves.

people's words are deceiving, and only in their actions may one find wholehearted truth (“truth begins in lies”, a quote heard in the very first episode not long after “everybody lies”). that is what this show is about; that is what house himself represents.

[crossroads-of-the-raven]

The Hands of Time, Morro the Elemental of Wind, The Cursed Realm, Who Sent Him There and how Chen is at the center of everything | Ninjago

So first off, I've had this theory for the longest time that Morro wasn't supposed to be in the Cursed Realm and besides that, that he was being taken advantage of by the Preeminent.

When Morro first appears at the very end of Season 4, we hear a voice say Morro's name in a whispered raspy voice.

Now, I've heard many people say that, that is literally just Morro announcing his own name but personally I always thought that the voice sounded similar to a different ghost, i.e. Bansha.

Bansha is a ghost who has the ability to control others from a distance and even communicate between Realms, as seen when she forced Misako to fight Wu and when she communicated with Fenwick, the Master Writer, to allow her, Morro and his ghostly entourage into the Cloud Kingdom. As well as, later when Wu and Misako are acting as distractions so the Ninja can sneak into Stix. Bansha is able to use herself to allow Morro to communicate through her to his old teacher.

This, along with Morro's change of heart at the end of Season 5 (even though ghosts aren't supposed to be able to change) is what initially made me suspicious; then something else came up.

Manipula-Chen (Chen Starts a Time War) by rinkunokoisuru on Ao3 brought up something that I knew in the back of my head but never really thought about.

rinkunokoisuru brings up that one little fact that Season 4 repeated so often that I'm surprised I forgot. Chen's manipulation of the Elemental Masters during the Serpentine War.

Now you might be asking - why is that important, what does that have to do with Morro? Well think about it, who else did Chen manipulate other than a young Garmadon.

Garmadon went to train with Chen and sometime after, Wu takes in Morro, eventually training him to become the Green Ninja.

We already know that Chen was intercepting Wu's mail, considering he was able to steal his love letter to Misako, so whose to say that he also wasn't spying on Wu and Morro's training sessions.

This brings me to another piece of information that was brought up recently by @ataraxixx - that information being that on Morro's back is the Japanese kanji for 'evil'.

Now I know that everyone has made their jokes about Morro being an edgy emo Hot Topic kid for wearing the kanji for 'evil' - but as I thought about it, I began to wonder, "why would a kid who wants to be the hero, die with the kanji for 'evil?"

(And incase your wondering, Morro originally had a dragon on his back just like Wu, when he was younger.)

Going back to rinkunokoisuru's story - in the story, it's suggested that Clouse's dark magic might have played a part in Krux and Acronix's betrayal and possibly play a part in the betrayal of the other Elementals.

With Morro I could believe that and I'll explain why in just a moment but with Krux and Acronix, something just wasn't clicking fully even though I liked the theory. Until I was rewatching episode 3 of Season 7 (A Time of Traitors) for my, 'Morro comes back to life' rewrite.

As I was watching the scene where Kai is discussing the Vermillion war helmet with Dr. Saunders, something came to mind. The helmet is definitely a Vermillion helmet but when Kai said it looked familiar he realized that Krux and Acronix were wearing the exact same helmet in the painting of their fight with Garmadon and Wu. At that moment I realized that they were also wear those same helmets when Wu is congratulating the remaining loyal Elementals on their victory during the Serpentine War.

Why would they be wearing Vermillion helmets?

Thinking back on Season 7.

When Kai first shows Wu the helmet in episode 3, Wu tries to say the line, 'time waits for no one' the same line is said completely by Krux during his fight with Kai at the Museum in the very same episode.

To be fair, it's a pretty common line but I think it was ment to indicate that Wu recognized the helmet as one that the Time Twins wore.

Now you might be asking, why wouldn't he recognize it as a Vermillion helmet?

To that I say, one of the best ways for something to be forgotten is for it never to be spoken of. Which is exactly what we find out in episode 7 (Secrets Discovered) when the Ninja - minus Kai and Nya - speak with King Scales in the sewers.

The Vermillion Warriors were the first generation progeny of the Great Devourer with the same instincts to consume everything, they were something that was so feared by the Serpentine that they were not spoken of, with Scale even going out of his way to find out where they are so his people could avoid them.

Now this is pure speculation, but I wonder, what if a non Serpentine/Vermillion wearing a Vermillion helmet could have an adverse or even corruptive effect on someone, considering Vermillion armor is ment for a nest of Vermillion snakes to nest inside of to form a single Warrior.

(Side Note: this is where all you Snake!Jay fans can come in as to why your boy wasn't affected when he put on the helmet in episode 3. And on that note, shameless plug for my theory post as to there being a Serpentine curse on the Jiang/Smith family - on Ray or Maya's side - as the reason why Jay and Skylor both were turned into snakes thus implying that the same thing has happened to Maya or Ray and as such using this convoluted theory as to why Kai wasn't affected when he wore the Vermillion helmet, implying that like the Snake!Jay theory, that Kai and Nya might have some Serpentine passed down to them from one of their parents' own transformation.)

Getting back to the matter.

Where would Krux and Acronix get a Vermillion helmet in the first place - the answer, from a man who find war entertaining and has a vast collection of hard to find/hard to get artifacts with a particular fascination with Serpentine warriors.

A.k.a. Master Chen.

Even if you go with the theory that the Vermillion helmets are not corruptive, there is still the matter of Clouse's dark magic.

On that note, let's get back to Morro and his connection to Chen and Clouse.

Imagine if you will.

You are mad Cult Leader, anticipating the eve of war between the Serpentine and all of Ninjago. While your pupil, the Elder son of the FSM, may or may not stay on the side of evil, you have been watching his younger brother train his first student to become the Green Ninja, something, which if he is successful, could be a possible problem.

Now again, speculation.

Wu was able to gather every Elemental to fight in the Serpentine War, even if some of them eventually turned traitor. I wonder if during Morro's training, if as part of Morro's training, if he was introduced to the Elementals as a sort of know your allies interaction. Basically, baby Ninja Morro getting to meet the Elementals who were all probably older then him (teen to elder) considering how old Morro looked when he ran away.

Continuing the speculation.

Let's say that Chen's spies told him that Morro was outside of Wu's protection. Let's say that Chen had already begun seducing a certain Elemental to his side (traditional methods or magical methods, you decide). Now let's say Chen had this Elemental go to Morro with a present - a medallion of protection. Let's say that Morro accepts this medallion because it's from his allie and let's say that the medallion has two images - one on top that would soon crumble away and one beneath (the kanji for evil) that actually held a curse that would send the wearer to the Cursed Realm.

And who do we know that can send people to the Cursed Realm - the answer, Clouse.

In Season 4 episode 8 - Clouse attempts to send Garmadon to the Cursed Realm, only for said Sensei to kick the sorcerer into the Cursed Realm, the portal closing behind him.

Later, to defeat Chen's Anacondri Army, Lloyd uses a spell from Clouse's magic books to open a portal to the Cursed Realm, thus allowing the Anacondri Generals to curse Chen and his army, sending them all to the Cursed Realm.

Considering all this, what if Chen had already been luring Skylor's mother to his side and convinced her to give a young wandering Morro a false seal of protection that would send him to the Cursed Realm upon his death (what if Chen had laid hints to lead Morro to a swift death in the Caves of Despair, not long after or even had Skylor's mother unknowingly give those hints when she gave him the medallion)

(Two Side Notes:

First: I personally I think Skylor's mother would have been tricked by Chen into giving Morro the medallion but if you want her to have been evil and do it willingly then that's your call.

Second: I don't think it's too farfetched an idea that the symbol transformed into a large medallion that was tied around Morro when he became a ghost. Almost like it shifted to chain itself to him.)

Now consider, the speculative Green Ninja is dead and the Serpentine War begins. The Elemental Alliance has gathered and some question are asked of Wu.

Where is Morro?

How long has he been gone?

Why didn't you go after him?

War continues, Garmadon goes to help his brother and after some time Chen see the war begin to wane so he sows discord among the Elementals and soon the alliance has fallen apart with only a few Elementals remaining loyal.

Gravity survived an attack by Clouse's pet Serpent and Earth while having briefly turned traitor has returned to the Elemental Alliance - but that's fine because the Time Twins are still wearing the Vermillion helmets.

The five tribes are being locked away (the Venomari by Water/Maya and the Anacondri by Fire/Ray) and the Serpentine War has ended. The Anacondri Generals have been sent to the Cursed Realm, Chen and Clouse are now confined to Chen's island (possibly having already hidden Skylor's mother there). But all that is still just fine. For someone so incredibly fascinated by the Serpentine, one has to wonder how much he knows.

Chen has spies and willing pawns everywhere, how else could he open a successful restaurant chain on the mainland.

Did he know about the prophecy of the Golden Master. Did he know that when the Serpentine are released from their tombs, that they would unleash the Great Devourer. Did he know that the Devourer would head straight to the stone army where her Venom would bring the warriors to life.

Or possibly, I wonder.

If when Krux came out of the Time portal not long after entering it - his younger twin brother, nowhere in sight and personally desiring revenge - did he go searching for a way to get vengeance, possibly from the one who first gave him and his brother the helmets.

Was Chen the one to set Krux on the path towards using the Vermillion Warriors.

In Season 7 episode 3, Krux tells Kai that his parents were traitors who worked for the Hands of Time, however, in Season 4 episode 7 Chen tells Kai that there are dark secrets about his parents.

Of course, Chen could have been lying, however ...

Did Chen know that Krux had kidnapped Ray and Maya?

Did Krux ever have the Jiang/Smith parents do work for Chen in payment for the Vermillion Warrior eggs?

~~~~~

Like many of my post ideas, this one got kinda long and rambling.

Something else I wanted to include was that I recall that someone was lamenting that Morro didn't have fangs like the other ghosts and I wondered why, but then I thought of this.

Cole, Garmadon, Chen and Clouse - four people who were cursed/sent to the Cursed Realm (only two of which were evil) and all four of them, in ghost form, are lacking fangs; just like Morro.

(Side Note: Admitably, Garmadon might just be a special case of - Son of the FSM. Personally, I'm in the boat of, give the Dragoni fangs but that's neither here nor there at the moment)

One more thing before you ask if the other ghost have a kanji for evil on them, I checked. Most ghost with a visible (or partially visible) symbol on their back all have the same Cursed Realm emblem - Morro is the only one with kanji.