#should have just went with my gut now i have to deal with the aftermath

[anonymouspuzzler]

god help me i'm Writing

i did a little prose one-shot with Buck and Davey just to test out how it felt, and my buddies talked me into puttin 'er up, so now You All Must Read It Too. art at the bottom too if you make it through!

content warnings for: "Buck is basically about to have a panic attack the whole time" and "brief, not especially graphic description of that time Davey lost an arm", "maybe some secondhand embarrassment because Buck can't pick up a hint if his life depends on it", and "Like Exactly One Sex Joke". Okay Enjoy Or Don't

A bit of a crash after a job was standard. You know, the adrenaline wearing off, replaced by aches and exhaustion. The contrast of going from a dramatic heist or a bombastic fight, to mundanely washing up and scraping together dinner and such. The early stirrings of inevitable cabin fever, lying low for however long it took for things to blow over and the heroes to move on to newer, shinier threats. That ever-present, anxious itch at the back of his skull - the one certain that one day, his luck would run out, and he’d be tracked back here by someone who knew he wasn’t quite unkillable - growing just a bit louder in the aftermath of drawing so much attention to himself. Yeah, all that was normal; something he’d come to expect.

He was not currently experiencing that. No, the cold crawl in his gut as he looked around the empty hideout was decidedly not the usual post-job, I’m-gonna-be-cooped-up-a-while anxiety. This was new, and he knew exactly the cause.

Davey still hadn’t come downstairs.

No-- no, Dynamo. Dynamo hadn’t come downstairs. He kept letting himself slip like this, into that casual, dangerous familiarity. He absolutely could not keep doing that. He’d already gotten too close, crossed the unspoken boundary that kept them both safe in their line of work. It was exactly what’d gotten him into this mess in the first place.

For a few beautiful moments right after the heist, running on pure adrenaline and the high of victory, it had been like none of those concerns existed. Just him and Davey-- Dynamo; him and Dynamo-- and a giant, freshly-swiped stash of unstable compounds in the backseat. A job neither of them could have pulled off alone, and that had gone off with nary a hitch together. The strung-out, victorious cackles from them both, grinning wide, hands gripping each other’s shoulders, heaving breaths passed between each other so closely, he could still feel it in his lungs if he concentrated on the memory.

(So close to each other, that he could’ve lurched forward and kissed him like it was nothing. It took all his willpower not to do so, and that was one of many, many things here that terrified him; that his willpower could be so easily tested by what should have been the easiest, most obvious boundary.)

Of course, that moment couldn’t have lasted. Of course. It couldn’t have just from the baseline, but especially not when they had to deal with handing over the material to Practis. (Practis, stupid fuckin’ Practis, if he hadn’t owed them the favor he would never have gone to deal with ‘em.)

Davey-- Dynamo wasn’t stupid. Quite the opposite. All it’d taken was one well-placed question from Practis while Buck had been busy unloading the goods, and all the dots connected from there.

“O-positive?”

“...excuse me?”

“Your blood type. It’s O-positive. Am I right?”

He’d cut in before they could talk any further, of course, hustling Davey-- Dynamo into the car and bidding Practis a curt farewell, but it was too late. Dynamo was silent as they drove off, tightly-drawn lips betraying that he was deep in thought, even with his eyes hidden behind his goggles.

Buck’s mouth had been dry. Barely able to glance at him out of the corner of his eyes, heart pounding as he wondered whether he ought to make small talk just to distract from the elephant in the room.

He didn’t get a chance. Davey spoke up first.

“You went to them for help when I lost my arm.”

It wasn’t a question. Buck couldn’t tell if the tone was meant to be just observational, or perhaps accusatory. “...maybe,” he answered regardless, cringing the second it was out of his mouth. Repulsed by his own noncommittal cowardice.

Davey would have been entirely within his rights to cuss Buck out for the breach of trust; for hiding that from him all this time, leaving him in Practis’ debt without even realizing. He stared down at his lap instead, silent for a long moment. “...this job was the payment for that,” he added, another not-question. Nothing for Buck to answer; to clarify. “You had to do all this because of me.”

“Not because of you,” he retorted, only mostly lying. “It’s, just… you know. And, you ended up helping me get this stuff for ‘em in the end. So, like. You’ve more than returned the favor, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“It’s not, actually.”

“Oh.” Shit. His grip tightened on the steering wheel; his eyes honed in on a suddenly-very-interesting stretch of empty road on the horizon. Great job convincing the guy he owed you a favor, Buck. (Why do you care? Why care what he thinks? Why do you need his approval so badly?)

“...why the hell’d you go through with it, Buck?”

Shit. The million-dollar question. The one he kept circling around himself, trying desperately not to confront the obvious answer. (His name, his real name on his lips, again casting aside the safety of Dynamo and Bulkhead.) He glanced at him out of the corner of his eye, seeing his gaze averted, gloved hand just barely tracing the edge where his newly-minted battle prosthetic attached to the stump of his right arm.

He needed an answer. (Deserved one.)

“...well, you would’ve done the same for me.”

The truth of it lingered in the space between his words, and he was terrified Davey would catch on. Because yes, Davey would have done the same for him, but because, Buck suspected, he would do the same for anyone - far, far too kind; too adverse to death for someone in his line of work. But Buck - Buck would not do the same for anyone. For Dynamo-- for Davey, only for Davey-- he would. He would, he had, he would again.

(Because Davey was whip-smart and funny and kind and beautiful and he was all those things to him, of all people. And god help him, he was a sad, grouchy, lonely old man and apparently someone treating him like a regular-ass person, like someone to chat and banter and plot with, was all it took for him to start falling head over fuckin’ heels.)

The rest of the drive back was silent, and in some deep, horrible, cold part of Buck’s gut, he was certain Davey had heard the words between his words.

And now here they were. They’d pulled the car into the hideout, Davey had mumbled out something about doing a bit of cleanup in the workshop before turning in, Buck had nodded and mumbled something about washing up so the shower’d be free when he came downstairs, and now here he was discovering Davey still hadn’t come down. (Avoiding him. Had to be, right? He wouldn’t blame him. Hell, maybe he’d grabbed his stuff while Buck was in the bathroom and ran out for good.)

He managed about five minutes of awkwardly milling about the hideout, valiantly trying to convince himself he’d flip channels on the TV or get out something for dinner, before finally succumbing to morbid curiosity and slipping upstairs to see if Davey was still working in the shop. (Making up excuses, trying not to acknowledge the inevitable. Maybe he was just engrossed in some task or another. Maybe he needed help with cleaning up and hadn’t thought to bug him about it. Maybe he sat down for a minute and fell asleep in the backseat of the car. Anything that wasn’t “running off without a word because Buck got way too close to him for people in their line of work”.)

He wasn’t there when Buck got upstairs, and for a moment his heart sank into his stomach, but then he noticed the golden sunset-light filtering in around the corner - the garage door was open. Davey was just in the entryway, just out of sight, Buck rationalized. (He left the door open when he ran off, the more realistic part of him countered. All contradictions in his head right now, both desperately trying to protect his fragile heart and steeling himself for the inevitable reality of the heartbreak.)

He rounded the corner.

Davey was there.

He was there (he was there, he really didn’t run off), back to him, not yet noticing Buck had walked in. Watching the sunset, it looked like, orange-and-gold light spilling across his sharp shoulders and thick curls. He’d removed most of his work gear - the massive prosthetic, the helmet, the goggles, the gloves - leaving him slim and exposed compared to the imposing figure he cut on the job. (Exposed both metaphorically - though Buck knew better, anyone else would see him like this and think he was fairly vulnerable to attack without all his gadgets and armor - and literally, overalls hanging loosely by a single strap in a way that made Buck fight not to ogle.)

It was a quieter, softer moment than Buck expected to find. For a moment, he wondered if he ought to slip quietly back where he came, leaving Davey to his private contemplation. But, at the same time, he had already trespassed, and it felt wrong to keep that fact to himself, too - reluctant, he cleared his throat, trying to hit that careful, contradictory midpoint of gentle yet forceful; enough to alert to his presence without making it seem as if he was demanding Davey’s attention.

(Dynamo. Dynamo. Dynamo. He was slipping, he kept slipping, and it was getting more and more dangerous every time. Harder and harder to pull back.)

Davey-- Dynamo turned, sharp, eyes wide, hair bouncing in its ponytail with the force. (God, he was beautiful. Objectively. Purely objectively. Big eyes, thick lashes, the way he worried at his thin lips with his gap-teeth.) At a loss of what else to do, Buck forced a grin and waved; Dynamo responded in turn. (Warmth in his eyes, but tightness in his smile. The heavy, anxious feeling from the drive returned to Buck’s gut in earnest.)

“Hey,” Dynamo started, tone light. (Yet forced; Buck knew how he spoke well enough at this point to tell - and god, god, what a sign of the danger he’d put them both in, knowing him well enough to recognize that subtle tell.) “Sorry, I didn’t realize that, uh, y’know-- time-- I-I’m just watching the sunset.”

“Cool,” Buck replied, feeling somehow even more socially inept than normal. “Cool. I can, uh--” He gestured behind him, back to the door; trying desperately to communicate he’d leave Dynamo to his privacy if need be. (To reflect, to escape, whatever. Maybe both. Maybe reflecting on how much he clearly needed to get the hell outta there.)

“No!” His voice cracked with the suddenness of the exclamation, sending Buck’s brows skyward - that he’d never heard before. Davey-- Dynamo seemed embarrassed by the outburst on his part, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of his neck, gaze averted. “I mean-- nah, you don’t have to, you can, uh--” And he trailed off, gesturing dumbly to the empty space beside him, an unspoken invitation.

An invitation Buck, by all accounts, should have refused without hesitation.

…he didn’t, of course. Fuck, of course he didn’t. No, instead he shuffled awkwardly up to the empty space beside him, hands in his pockets, balled tight into fists. (He had the good sense to at least leave a polite gap between them, of course. Room for the Holy Spirit, he quipped to himself, trying desperately to lighten the mood in his own mind. He conjured an image of a cartoonish high school dance chaperone, screeching and shoving balloons between dancers’ bodies to force the distance. The thought only cheered him a minute before detouring into grim memories of his own high school dances, spent watching awkwardly from the sidelines, mooning over handsome young men who barely even knew his name. Multiple decades on and he still wasn’t too different from that pathetic kid. Fuck.)

Get back on track. Hands in his pockets, staring out at the (actually quite beautiful, damn) sunset, Dynamo beside him at a polite distance, doing the same. A variation on their side-by-side silence in the car before, but now with barriers removed - their expression-obscuring goggles, Buck’s imposing jacket, Dynamo’s massive prosthetic. Two men off the clock, without their armor, without defenses. (And he hated it, he hated how easy it was, how those walls just came down around Davey without him even thinking about it. This was rule fucking one of the villain lifestyle, not putting yourself in positions where you’re vulnerable around others. You never knew who might be just desperate enough to sell you out.)

(...Even if he was increasingly certain, in some part of his anxious mind, that Davey would never dream of doing so.)

“...You wouldn’t happen to have any cigarettes, would you?” Dynamo suddenly asked, finally breaking the silence. The question came so out of left field Buck couldn’t help but turn his head to stare, finding Dynamo’s gaze locked on the scenery ahead, left hand fidgeting subtly with the outer lining of his pocket.

It took a second for Buck to even process the actual, y’know, words of the question. “...no, I don’t,” he finally replied. (Even if he wanted to smoke, frankly - which he didn’t - his chronic asthma decidedly wouldn’t appreciate it, and asthma attacks were one of those little things his super-durability didn’t prevent. It chilled him how he had to actively stop himself from freely sharing that sensitive, this-could-actually-kill-me information with Davey.) “...you smoke?”

“No, I quit years ago.” A quick, practiced reply. Automatic, in many ways.

“...then why did you--”

“I don’t know.” A quick, barked laugh, no humor behind it. “Just get the craving when I’m nervous, I guess.”

The easy honesty of his words stuck in Buck’s throat, choking down any response he might have been planning. (Too honest, too honest. Was he like this with everyone? Or… did he dare imagine this kind of trust was only for him?) He should have dropped it, he needed to drop it for both their sakes, but unfortunately, his brain was still reeling and he instead responded with a quiet, “You’re nervous?”

A pause. Too far. Davey’s-- Dynamo’s expression was tight. “Maybe,” he replied, quiet. Honest. Too, too honest, fuck.

Buck’s gut twisted and flipped, instinct of shut this down shut this down you’re in danger fighting heartily with a desperate, primal need to return the openness he’d been shown. “...is it… am I…?”

“No. Yes? No.” A heavy exhale, Davey’s hand coming up to scratch at his face, fingers nearly catching at the edge of his now-healed scar. “It’s not you. Exactly. It’s not your fault. Fuck.”

The silence settled back in for a long moment. Buck’s heart was pounding in his chest far too hard for him to dare try and say a word. Davey, for his part, continued to look out into the distance, shoulders tense, hand having come to rest with two fingers on his chin. (Now that he’d asked about it, Buck looked at the gesture and could practically see Davey holding an imaginary cigarette between his fingers. Must have been a long-held habit before he quit, the muscle-memory burned in subconsciously.)

Finally, Davey-- Dynamo broke the silence again with a heavy, shaky sigh. Something in his expression Buck couldn’t quite read. “Listen. I-- I think I gotta say some stuff. I don’t know exactly what I’m gonna say. But I think I gotta talk it out anyway. So if you could, like-- I dunno. Just listen until I feel like I’m done, I guess? That cool?”

His heart was beating so hard, it felt like he was going to throw it up. This was bad. This was bad. He needed to stop this, put up the safe and comfortable barriers between them again. Before it was too late.

Instead, he choked out, “go for it,” because he was an idiot.

The way Davey’s posture instantly relaxed sent him spiraling - forgetting his self-flagellation in the gut response of I did that I made him feel less nervous, followed immediately by a vicious reversal, because that’s all it takes huh you’re so lonely and pathetic that all it takes is a guy kind of half-grinning at you for you to fall all over yourself - until Davey starting to speak snapped him back to the moment.

“I’ve just… been thinking about today,” he began. “And like-- more than that. But, today specifically. The heist and all. It was just… it went well. I mean, you know. You were there! You saw how well we worked together. And it… look, I’m just gonna say it. That was the most fun I’ve had doin’ one of these jobs, like, ever. And maybe I’m reading into it, but… it maybe kinda seemed like you were enjoying it, too?

“It all just… it got me thinking. About that, and livin’ here while I healed up - which, by the way, also has been the most fun I’ve had since I, y’know, started being Dynamo - and just, everything to do with all that, and I… well… you’re not gonna like this.” He chuckled as he said it, mirthless, raising a cigarette-less hand to his mouth seemingly without realizing. “But I… I think. There might be something to… us keeping up with this. Like, working together. Full time. Full-on villain partnership. And I know that’s like-- we’re not supposed to do that. Safety-wise and all. How risky it is for us both. But I-- god, this is gonna sound stupid. But I… trust you. I do.

“I mean--” He gestured emphatically to the stump of his right arm, the haphazard stitchwork Buck had done with shaking hands, kneeling over him on the garage floor all those weeks ago. “If you really wanted me out of the picture, I feel like you had plenty of opportunity and kinda fumbled the bag with it, you know? And I-- I dunno. I hope I’ve made it clear I don’t wanna do nothin’ to hurt you, either. Or that I… can make that clear, you know? Do whatever you need to believe it. But the point is, I-- I like workin’ with you. I think we do good work together. I think we could keep doin’ good work together. And I… want to. Do that.” A heavy breath, a sharp exhale, rolling his shoulders like there’d been a physical heft to what he’d been saying. “Hoo!! God, really wish I had that cigarette right now. But, uh, yeah, that. I think that’s all. For now. Maybe. Yeah. Uh, yeah. Your turn, then. Thoughts, feedback, whatever. Go for it.”

His eyes were bright, his face split into a grin, but Buck -- he-- maybe he was reading into it too much. Maybe. But he could feel the anxiety rolling off Davey as he spoke, a mirror of his own. The words between words. Asking, practically begging for his approval the same way Buck kept longing for his.

His throat felt dry. He couldn’t speak, even if he wanted to, thoughts rolling frantic and aimless in his mind like marbles in a glass spiral. Words turning themselves over and over as his heart pounded and his stomach did enough backflips that it probably oughta qualify for the next Olympics.

We do good work together.

I trust you.

I want to.

Thoughts rolling themselves around in his mind. The dangerous pull, on the precipice of something he knew he couldn’t come back from. Exposed and armor-less here in the setting sun, nothing but the Holy Spirit and this question between them.

It was getting harder and harder to pull back to the boundary.

He had to. He knew he had to.

(Why?)

(He just had to.)

(...but why?)

Inhale. Exhale. Staring out into the sunset, filling the conversation with golden light. A warmth to counteract the anxious chill spreading from his gut as his mind worked itself into overdrive. He felt like he could choke on his own tongue, heavy with words he didn’t know how to speak. (Was afraid to speak.)

“...everything you’re saying is true,” he finally choked out. Almost without realizing it. It felt like he was watching someone else say it, just a little bit beside him.

Davey responded with a subtle, automatic grin and visible brightness in his eyes. It felt like it was putting his heart in a fucking vice. “Yeah?”

“I’m not finished,” he added quickly. Davey went still, went quiet in response. Automatically giving him the same space to ramble that Buck had given him. (Too much, too much, you’re in danger, what are you even going to say here, pull it back pull it back pull it back.) “Everything… everything you’re saying. Including that we’re not supposed to do this. And that it’s risky. Hell, risky doesn’t even begin to cover it; like--”

He felt sick. Panic welling up in his gut from all too many directions. (Shut it down, shut it down, before he notices, before he figures you out, you’re supposed to be the Invincible Fucking Bulkhead here--) “You. You do understand who I am, right? I’m Buck Armstrong. My family--” Bile in his throat, breathing tight; even to Davey, he couldn’t bring himself to reflect on his life before Bulkhead. Bring it back. Different approach. “No matter what I do - whether I’m stealing classified materials or a carton of eggs from the corner store, there’s gonna be a massive target on my back ‘cause of-- where I come from. And if you start associating with me full-time? Publicly? That target’s gonna be on your back too. And you--” His voice was breaking. Swallow it down, swallow it down, don’t let him notice. “...You can’t bounce back from it like I can.”

(There had been so much blood. There had been so much blood. There had been so much blood and it had been his fault, Davey jumped in because he’d already figured out Buck was weak, that he wasn’t as unkillable as he tried to make everyone believe, and he’d known and he jumped in the way and saved his life and look what he’d gotten for his trouble bloody and shaking and heaving in the dirt there had been so much so much he could see the bone he didn’t know what to do he just couldn’t let him die there for him he couldn’t he couldn’t he couldn’t not like that not for him not for him)

“...I mean. Yeah?”

The sheer casual-ness of Davey’s response snapped Buck out of what probably would’ve been a full-blown meltdown otherwise. He snapped his gaze over; Davey was staring back with the kind of mild dumbfoundedness one might get saying hey little-known fact, did you know water is wet. “Buck, I know who you are,” he continued, still utterly blasé about it. “This isn’t my first day in town, ya know. I’ve known about The Invincible Bulkhead since way before you and I started crossing paths.” (He winked at that, and Buck felt his panic coming from a completely different avenue now. God fucking damn it why’d he have to be hot.) “Point is, I’m not, like… stupid. I know your life is dangerous. I’m not saying all this, like, ignorant of that. I just…”

Now he hesitated, averting his gaze, moving to scratch the back of his neck again. Buck’s heart pounded in his throat. “I. I guess what I’m saying is that, it’d be worth it. For me. Like, ‘benefits outweigh the risks’ kind of situation. I mean, honestly, I’m gonna be living on the edge no matter what in this line of work, might as well have fun with it. So, uh. Guess what I’m saying is. If the only opposition you have to the idea is that I’m gonna be putting myself at risk without realizing it, you can toss that right on out. I know what I’m doing. You’re-- this is. Worth that risk.”

(The stumble of you’re felt dangerously deliberate. All at once he screamed in terror at it and clutched it close like a token.)

…was that his only opposition? If-- if Davey really was going into this knowing all the risks, wanted to go through with it anyway-- well, he was a grown-ass man, you know? And a smart one at that. (Smarter than Buck, it felt like, in more ways than one. He was constantly finding new ways to be impressed by this guy.) Did he… was there anything else, besides the whole well THEY say we’re not supposed to do shit like this, no I don’t know who THEY are either, which… all told, held increasingly little weight to him as the conversation went on. Was there anything, anything at all, that could convince him to stop this?

…

…oh, god, there was one thing.

There was one.

His whole body felt cold. His heart pounded so hard and so fast that it looped back around to being intangible to him, too quick to notice. Oh, god. Oh god. The one thing. The one thing that could take this sudden dream come true and throw it right back in the trash where it ought to be.

It wouldn’t be fair. It wouldn’t be fair to Davey, to not put it out there, to not say it. To invite him into this partnership and have him inevitably figure it out down the line, be ambushed by it. It wouldn’t be fair to him. It wouldn’t be fair.

He had to say it.

He would give anything not to say it.

But oh, god, it wouldn’t be fair.

(Davey, stupid beautiful Davey, lit at all his most gorgeous angles by the golden light of the setting sun, watching him out of the corner of his eye, surely waiting for an answer. Davey, who he wanted so selfishly to keep here with him.)

He was at the edge of the cliff now. Teetering on the precipice. There was no going back if he did this.

But it wouldn’t be fair if he didn’t.

“...There’s one thing.” He felt like he was watching himself speak from a distance, words slow and heavy and cold on his tongue. He didn’t dare turn to look at Davey. Eyes trained on a suddenly-very-interesting point on the far horizon like it could get him out of this self-dug pit.

“...Yeah?”

“One thing,” he repeated. His whole body felt cold. God, Davey could probably see him sweating, even from the arm’s length away he was standing. He’d be lucky if he didn’t throw up in front of him by the end of this conversation. “If-- if we’re really going to seriously consider this. I have to tell you. It wouldn’t be fair not to tell you.”

“All right.” A long, long pause, tangibly so. Oh, god. His gut was so tight and cold it felt like he might shit blocks of ice, and then probably just keel over entirely to avoid engaging in this conversation further.. “...are… are you going to…?”

“Trying,” he choked out. Davey went quiet immediately. (Giving the space, waiting for him to be finished speaking. Fuck. Fuck, maybe he shouldn’t do this. Maybe he could just walk it back, pretend he was joking, ignore this whole conversation and just go back to the way things were this morning, before the stupid heist that had made everything go so complicated. But--) “It wouldn’t be fair. If I didn’t. Say this to you now. If I let you, like-- stay here and start working with me and uproot your whole life and didn’t tell you this and let you-- let you opt out.” (Because he would, surely he would, there was no way he would just let it go once he did.)

He went quiet again. Davey didn’t interject this time. Waiting for whatever he had to say.

(Couldn’t pull it back. He couldn’t pull it back again after this.)

His hands clenched white-knuckle at his sides. Sweat down the back of his neck. He had to say it. He had to. He had to. And then Davey would leave and he’d go back to his normal pathetic life and never see him again.

His mind, miles away as he finally forced his mouth open, idly noted that it’d probably been over twenty years since he last made himself say this out loud to another human being.

“...I’m. I’m gay.”

No response. Whether the polite space to continue or the cold silence of judgment, he couldn’t tell and he was scared to dwell too far on it. Forced himself on; no turning back now. “I’m-- gay and I. You. It’s. I-- I think you’re a v-very. Attractive man. And that’s--” he all but retched; suddenly the words were pouring out of him rapid-fire, like he just had to get them out of him no matter the cost-- “I’m not saying that cause I think you’re, like, obligated to be okay with that if you stay, I-I just know it’s not fair to have you like, living here without knowing that-- like most people wouldn’t be cool working with someone they know has a big stupid crush on them so like it’s no hard feelings I can pretend we never talked about this and you can just go and we can just wave from a distance when we run into each other during jobs and it’s fine it’s cool.”

And there it was.

Oh, god, and there it was.

The careful, safe boundary of Bulkhead and Dynamo was no more. Instead, Buck Armstrong, pathetic, lonely, middle-aged man with a big stupid gay crush, stood there sweating like a pig and watching the sunset on the horizon, waiting to hear sweet beautiful Davey turn on his heel and walk out of his life forever.

Davey laughed.

His head snapped around so fast he swore he could hear the vertebra crack. That-- much as that awful little voice in the back of his head wanted him to believe otherwise, he knew that wasn’t a mocking kind of laugh. No, no it was quick, breathy, high; the kind of laugh he’d heard from Davey as they drove away from the scene of the crime earlier; the kind you let out when you were so overjoyed and relieved that all you could do was laugh.

Davey was staring at him. Davey was smiling. Ear-to-ear, crinkling up the corners of his shining eyes, golden and glowing in the sunset light.

An entirely different kind of chill went up Buck’s spine.

“I was hoping--” Davey started, and then laughed again, drawing a hand back through his hair. “I mean-- you, you get the vibes, you know, but you don’t know if it’s just you reading into what you want to see or if it’s actually there--”

“You were hoping?” He repeated, quiet, dumb, cracking in the back of his throat. Did he hear that right? He couldn’t have, right? Or it was like, slang for something? He didn’t know slang. It was probably some kind of slang that didn’t mean anything remotely like it sounded like. That was the only thing that made sense here.

Davey barrelled on like he hadn’t even spoken. “I mean, all the banter when we ran into each other on jobs, right? And-- and I kept trying to tease it out, like, see how you reacted if I got kinda flirty, but I still wasn’t sure and what was I supposed to say, hey Buck thanks again for not letting me die alone in the dirt by the way do you like men. Like, come on--”

“What you wanted? Flirty?” Surely none of this meant what it sounded like it meant. Surely. Or maybe he was hallucinating. Maybe he finally got so panicked he died, like a rabbit does. That would make sense. That would make sense. That was the only thing that would make sense.

Davey finally stopped speaking.

Buck froze.

Davey turned. Eyes on his. Boring right into him. And then he smiled, a different kind of smile, slow and warm and half-lidded in a way that instantly turned that icy chill in Buck’s gut into something molten-hot instead. The slight part of his lips around gap teeth; the crinkle in the corner of his brown eyes; the something something something undeniable in the way he looked at him.

He took a step forward. Buck remained frozen in the headlights of his gaze.

A hand, reaching out, slow, gentle - enough to pull away from if he wanted (like he ever fucking would) - fingers grazing across his knuckles and taking his hand. A slim, calloused thumb circling against his palm in a way he could only possibly describe as intimate, fingernail catching ever-so-slightly at the skin.

He stared down at their hands like it was something utterly alien. (Which-- might as well be. When was the last time he held hands with someone? Oh my god, was he so utterly lonely and pathetic that he was reacting like this to holding hands??) Moved his gaze back, heart pounding at that warm, warm look of his, straight down into his soul. He was so close, now, obliterating the Holy Ghost between them; that imaginary chaperone must be losing their ever-loving shit right now. He was certain Davey could feel his hummingbird-pounding heartbeat this close, smell the way he’d fear-sweat so badly during this conversation he already needed a second shower. (As it stood, he could already feel the slight rise-and-fall of Davey’s chest as he breathed, smell the detritus of the car and the dried-sweat stench of earlier exertion.)

They were back in the car after the heist again. Close, so close, passing the same breath between each other, close enough that Buck could easily just lurch forward and--

It had been a very, very long time since he’d done this. His nose bumped Davey’s, mustache catching awkwardly at his lip; Davey simply hummed a laugh into his mouth and tilted his head to better the angle. Fuck. His lips were thin and chapped; his teeth dragged across Buck’s lip and bumped momentarily into his own as they drew closer. (Maybe, he thought with uncharacteristic optimism, it’d been a while for Davey, too.)

One final half-step forward, the last of the gap gone. Buck’s massive barrel-chest awkwardly slotting against Davey’s sternum, his hand squeezing as they pulled together. He drew his other hand up to rest against the back of Davey’s neck without even thinking, feeling the baby-hairs at his hairline against his fingertips. Passing the same breath between each other, slow and warm and deliberate.

They pulled away too quickly. They pulled away after a million years. Buck’s eyes fluttered open, finding Davey smiling down barely inches away, cheeks dusted red, a terrifying adoration in his eyes, framed golden at the edges by the sunset-lighting in a way Buck was already scrambling to commit to memory.

It was all too much. He was going to-- fuck, start crying, or throw up, or both, and he frankly didn’t want to ruin this moment with either. So instead, burning beet-red, he ducked his face into Davey’s shoulder because it was the only place he had to hide. Davey - sweet, perfect Davey who just let him kiss him, what the fuck, that was real, right, that was real - just laughed again, light as anything, and he felt his face come to rest on top of his head, still toying with Buck’s hand in his grip.

“Take it there’s no further arguments, then?” He giggled. Buck could practically hear the wink in his voice, and it did nothing to calm him down.

“God. God. You really are serious about all of this.”

“Christ, Buck, yeah. What’s it gonna take to convince you I mean it? I could kiss ya some more, if you want. No opposition to that.”

“Fuck, man.” He couldn’t help but wheeze out a laugh himself, relief suddenly forcing itself out of him in waves. (Holding Davey like this felt really nice. Really nice. Wonder if he’d let him keep doing this.) “Fine. Yeah. Yeah. If you’re really so sure you wanna settle for dying in this shithole with me.”

“Don’t be silly! I’ll die outside this shithole with you. We’re infinitely more likely to beef it on the job.”

“God. Fair enough.” A slow inhale, head swimming with the smell of Davey. Dear god it all kept sinking in. “I know-- w-what I said still stands, you know, you don’t-- you’re not obligated to reciprocate or--”

“You think I’m feeling obligated? Christ, Buck,” Davey laughed again in reply, squeezing his hand tight. “You really haven’t been paying attention. I’ve been trying to goad you into making out with me practically since we met.”

“You’re fucking with me.”

“No, see, that’s what I was hoping my flirting’d eventually lead to--”

“Christ alive, Davey--”

“Too much?” There wasn’t the slightest hint of repentance in his tone.

“You’re the worst.”

“You like it.”

“...I do.”

Another sweet, slow laugh; Buck felt Davey press another kiss to the top of his head and thought he might spontaneously combust. “Well, I like you too. You wanna head upstairs about it? I need a shower.”

“Mhm. Yeah. Yeah. Sure. Go ahead. Just… I need a second.”

“All good.” A long pause, a warm silence. Davey’s thumb still stroking circles into his palm. “...uh. One thing. If you mean you wanna stay down here another minute while I head up, I, uh. You gotta actually let go of me.”

He blinked. Somehow he’d gotten so wrapped up in holding Davey, he’d forgotten he was doing the holding. “Oh. Oh, uh-- right. Yeah. Right. Sorry.”

His bastard traitor of a body did not release his hold on Davey.

Lucky for him, Davey responded to the clear freeze-up with a good-natured chuckle, finally releasing Buck’s hand to trace up his arm and wrap around his shoulders, holding him in return. “Or, y’know. We could just both take a second. Go up together when you’re ready.”

“I-- th. Y. Yeah. Yeah.” His burning cheeks had spread to a slow warmth all through his body, tingling at every nerve, lit up with the long-forgotten ecstasy of human contact. He moved his own freed hand to the small of Davey’s back, settling against him, for a moment forgetting all his usual terror of vulnerability. Somehow, somehow, against all logic, against all odds, he felt safe here.

Bulkhead and Dynamo disappeared, up on the shelf with all their gadgets and armor. Buck and Davey remained, holding each other close, breathing the same breath back and forth, illuminated in the golden light of sunset.

[Image ID: A digital illustration of Puzz's OCs, Buck (a middle-aged, barrel-chested white man with balding red hair, a large nose and a bushy mustache, wearing a green turtleneck, kahki pants and brown boots) and Davey (a middle-aged, lanky black man with amputated right arm, diagonal scar across his face, large ears, large eyes with long lashes, large eyebrows and curly dark-brown hair in a ponytail, wearing overalls with one strap down and pointy brown boots). They are hugging each other tightly, with Davey's back slightly facing the camera. Buck's face is buried in Davey's chest, blushing furiously, while Davey rests his head on top of Buck's, with a slight smile visible. There is golden light painted behind them and illuminating the edges of both their figures. End ID.]

[sometimesbrave]

read chapter 1: here, chapter 2: here, chapter 3: here

warnings: dead bodies

June 1986

***

"The death of me was so quiet

No friends and family allowed

Only my murderer, you, and the priest

Who told you to go to Hell"

- doomsday by Lizzy McAlpine

***

Today was the one year anniversary of Raja Mannar's reign in Khansaar. As a gift to their king, a Mannar Dhora delivered the Khansaar court the good news: Dhaara Shouryanga Raisaar's wife and son are dead.

They were both found in Odisha. They were captured to bring back to Khansaar. But they both had tried to escape again, so, they were beaten so much their faces were brutally disfigured and eventually they died. Raja Mannar had planned to hang the bodies outside Khansaar court, but he was advised against it, as it may instigate a few rebels. After seeing the two bloody corpses, he was finally at peace. This chapter has finally come to an end. No rightful claims to the throne remained. The throne of Khansaar belonged to him and him alone.

When Varadha received this news, his soul left his body. He felt as though he was observing himself from the outside. Then he heard someone screaming very loudly. Then he realised it was him. He had actually fallen to the floor, screaming his guts out while Baba hugged him to try and calm him down. Baachi was peering at his brother through the door, not understanding what to do.

After a few hours, Varadha went to the hospital to see the bodies against Baba's wishes. The most important thing now was to make sure the death rites were done properly. It was the least Varadha could do. He can deal with his grief another day. Today he had to be responsible. When he was about to enter the mortuary, Baba took him aside.

"Varadha, whatever you see in there, must be between us. You cannot get shocked. You must accept the truth that Deva and his mother are gone, forever."

Varadha nodded his head. He entered the mortuary and saw two bodies covered in white sheets. He asked the helper to lift the sheets.

The helper looked at Baba concerned, "Sir, I don't think that's a good idea."

Varadha would not budge from his position.

"I am ordering you to lift the face covering. I will not ask again."

The helper relented and lifted the covers off both the bodies.

Varadha did not recognise the faces. There was nothing recognisable. They were so beaten. The eyes and lips were swollen while the scalp was ripped in a few places on both of them. Varadha's hands shook as he approached the bodies. He stood beside the boy's body and began to cry. He fell on his body and started weeping hysterically. Baba tried to pull him away from the body when Varadha noticed something. The bruise Deva got after his fight with Rudra's pahalwan….the electric wire shocked him. The bruise spanned from his arm to his neck and it was no longer there.

This was not Deva.

Varadha looked at Baba in disbelief.

Varadha was about to speak when Baba interrupted him, "Varadha, you are just in shock. We should get you home as soon as possible and plan for the death rites. We have to honour your friend and his mother. We must leave now."

As soon as Varadha and Baba reached home, Varadha hugged him.

"That is not Deva and Amma", he choked.

"No, they are not.", Baba admitted,

"They are just dead bodies of couple of poor strangers who will be buried in a strange land."

"But why?!", Varadha asked in disbelief.

"Because you are not the only person who cares about Deva and his mother. There are few powerful people in Khansaar who want them to be left alone"

"Who are they? Is it a Mannar Dhora?!"

"I also don't know alright. Just be grateful that this worked out in your favour. The most important thing for you to remember is that Deva and his mother are dead to Khansaar. So, your behaviour must not raise any suspicions.", Baba warned.

Though Varadha was overjoyed that Deva and Amma are not dead, he was sad that these strangers' bodies were mutilated and not given to their rightful family. The least he could do was provide them a proper funeral.

Thus, Raja Mannar believed that, on June 27th 1986, Deva Shouryaanga Raisaar and his mother's pyres were lit by his traitorous son, Varadharaja Mannar.

****

tags: @deadloverscity @ghostdriftexistence @sambaridli @rambheem-is-real @sinistergooseberries @vardhamannartitties, @moonnpaww @literariyumi @sana2410 @varadevaficrecs

[jav-uni]

It’s late and I’m venting, words have power I wish Chris well but I have to call a spade a fucking spade!

Even in real life, It’s amazing how we go hard in the paint for people we care about or think we “love” especially when they do us wrong. I try to be understanding but the reason so many can’t forgive is due to the fact when you forgive and the person screws you over agin……at what point do you consider yourself an idiot.

People do fucked up shit and should have to deal with the consequences, PERIOD!

If Chris was remorseful you’d think he’d do more to show it like end this bs, but it’s like he didn’t give a flying fuck so why should I? I can see how I projected onto his image and it was a blow to the gut when this mess went live because I truly thought he was a decent guy in Hollywood but never playing hollywoods bullshit. But to see he pulled the same 40yr with a 20yr old disgusting crap was like WTF?!

He’ll forever have people defending him and kissing his ass no matter what. I hope he reaps what he sows, I’m tired of people taking advantage of others and not taking any accountability. We have real people getting sent death threats over this bs, people have displayed such evilness. Emotions were real due to this. The world will say the fans are crazy, get over it. But people have been hurt due to this. The rift in this fandom, former online friends now enemies. Yes we have to take accountability for our actions to be here discussing this. People celebrate his losses not to be spiteful but so his ass can feel the disappointment he caused his fans. Maybe he cares and is aware, maybe not. We may be mere strangers to him but our support helped his pockets over the years, that was real, going to see movies because his ass was in it, filled his pockets, paying to see him at cons for years, etc. so for him to not only try to use that fanbase to push bs but not just pr but with a racist childish woman and her friends who’ve tainted his fandom and called him names, who he allowed to troll because like Scott said….”we’re crazy”. Like their asses know nothing about crazy fans compared to Taylor Swift, Justin Bieber and others. This fandom is fucking tame compared to most. Chris fandom is like the 1% percentile where his ass should have been grateful to even have a fandom at all let alone one who thought he was decent thus feeling the need to defend him and this bs image.

People have a right to be pissed, he used them.

So many called him out on shit for years but people would be like omg no he’s a good guy. Any time he fucked up he’d just use Dodger to the point it was a running joke in the fandom.

Yeah Chris is human but like the rest of us humans if we do bad shit, we have to deal with the aftermath of our decisions. I try to have compassion too but I expect highly of myself and shame myself when I screw up, unfortunately those who do major screw ups do the opposite and never learn from shit and then claim to be sorry only to do it again.

Chris needs to take a break from Hollywood and get in therapy to gain some self awareness, focus on himself and not wasting time looking at leaves. He needs to learn why he thought this was okay to even participate in.

I’m pissed at those who can do anything, and it’s magically swept under the rug. Half the dumb and serious shit most celebs do would have their asses in jail, unemployed, broke, homeless in the real world. Actions have consequences.

This dude……He really Got his ass on stage and said I’m married. At this point this shit better be real because everything that’s done in the dark eventually gets exposed and man if this leaks that he had a fake pr marriage, I fear it’ll be too much for him to deal with and when I think like that my heart hurts but celebs using fans for gain needs to fucking stop. These celebs want to act like they are so aware, yet end up in stupid ass situations in order to stay relevant and get money. So many of us would have said fuck Hollywood before getting involved in selling bullshit. I don’t do fake shit, it’s never worth it nor does it ever end well. Had he lost everything, he’d still be fine I’m sure. He could have taken a break and recharged. Look if I’m wrong and it comes to light there’s more to this then we all assume and his hands were indeed tied, then I’ll throw some grace, but I doubt anyone had power over him like that.

See it shows true character of how you choose to navigate Hollywood or when you walk away from the industry and refuse to be a pawn of their bullshit. I’m sure Brenden Fraser was terrified in his situation but he stood up spoke his truth and was blackballed. Can you imagine where his career might’ve been. Fortunately, Decades later he’s back, wins his Oscar and STILL refuses to support the association tied to those who hurt him. That’s TRUE COURAGE!!!!

Chris Evans is a poser, talked a big game for years, even caught an attitude with that white boots reporter over the word “brand” and then two years later fucked his up. 🙄 The fucking audacity!

.

[halforcdad]

I watched POI when it already finished airing so whenever I see someone said they watched it when it was still airing I went

Oh honey

Oh dear

Oh sweetie

You watched it live?? You watched 5x10 live?? Not knowing whats going to happen??? *Give you a hug*

I already know what was coming and still that episode left me heart broken just shattered emotionally (which is to say, also, that good writing can still make an impact even when the audience knows what's going to happen so take notes Marvel)

On another note, the 4x11 self-sacrifice lives in my head rent-free. "If you die die for something that you love" and "i'm a sociopath i dont have feelings" then she goes and kisses Root and saves them all I am on the floor bawling

the funny part is i saw bts photos from the finale that showed root and reese together and i naively thought, 'ok cool they still might die, but at least they survive until the end' and the writers really said Lol. but considering the type of show it was (and what happened to carter) and how dire things were going in s4-s5 i kinda prepared for character deaths leading up to the season. it left me numb and sad for a while, but i dont remember being extremely devastated about it. all the stuff we got with shaw dealing with it afterwards, however, that shit hurt bad. and unfortunately i love angst a lot (the writers were very good at writing sad stuff!)

my main complaint is that the death was so sudden and kinda anticlimatic (but i guess there has to be one of those to further stress how much their backs were against the wall). everyone else in the show gets a poetic death/sacrifice scene and in carter's case, at least she was killed by a significant villain in her arc and we're allowed to really feel the pain and consequences of her death, root gets taken out by a guy who started the job like two weeks ago and no time to mourn bc we're in a war Lol (and they had to rub salt in the wounds by showing us her for-sure dead body and telling us samaritan dug it up to get her implant, which while realistic, was brutal).

i feel like a lot of people talk about it as one of the worst writing decisions, but i can see why they chose to keep root's fate the same. yes, it sucked to losing a wlw character (especially when that was so close to clexa, if im not getting my times wrong), but i don't believe lgbt media should only be happy, soft stuff and that lgbt characters should be plot armor protected always. i still found a lot of meaning and emotion in the ending we got with shaw carrying on the work her team left behind with the machine and having some small piece of root to hold on to (and shaw being the only one next to fusco who never really had a lot of direct contact with the machine, getting the chance now to work closely with it and understand root more maybe that way). the show was always dealing with death/loss and grief and emphasizing how people still leave significant legacies behind and stay with us even if it's just the influence and impact they left on their surviving loved ones. i would still prefer if it had ended differently, but at least I could understand the message they were going for.

ill never stop loving 4x11 it's genuinely one of my favorite tv episodes ever. poi was very good at normalising shaw's apd and everything they did with shaw and especially what they did in the aftermath of that episode ripped me to shreds (her telling simulation root that she was her safe place and then telling real root she'd rather die than get them all killed, that made me totally normal). shaw getting the big emotional, meaningful moments in 4x11 (in the machine's simulation when she shows root one last act of kindness with 'maybe someday', the subway scene with the bomber, and of course the ending scene) was so important and well done. and root's slow-moed reactions at the end were gut-wrenching i must have rewatched that scene maybe 1000 times.

[aerialsuperiority]

//On mobile so I can’t put under a readmore, negative shit in the tags

[tyonfs]

i like me better (when i’m with you)

PAIRING ▸ jeong jaehyun x fem!reader 

GENRES ▸ friends to enemies to lovers, college au, sports, friends with benefits, smut, crack, fluff 

WARNINGS ▸ sexual !! tension !! lots of it, smut (public sex, fingering, hate sex, raw sex, pool sex, oral sex), mark lee cockblocking, also yes, there’s actual fluff

SUMMARY ▸ there was no one else on the planet that made your blood boil like jeong jaehyun did. you never thought your feelings toward him were anything past pure hatred, but when you were lost in the feeling of his lips on yours and his hands on your body, you couldn’t help but think that maybe a part of you didn’t completely hate his guts. 

PLAYLIST ▸ i like me better by lauv • unravel me by sabrina claudio

WORD COUNT ▸ 11896 words

TAG LIST ▸ @gotoartistprofile @chanluster​ @steamyjaehyun

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ big shoutout to fia for hyping me up to complete this and i hope you guys enjoy it !! thank you so much for reading ♡ part of the dunk shot! series but can be read separately!

SOMETIMES, THE AMOUNT OF HATRED YOU HAD FOR JEONG JAEHYUN AMAZED YOU.

To the average human being, Jeong Jaehyun was, in a sense, perfect. On the surface, he was everyone’s trademark Golden Boy—good grades, athletic, and a seemingly good personality. The last point, however, was a complete and utter lie. Simply put, Jaehyun was a wolf in sheep’s clothing, and you, unfortunately, wound up becoming his target.

If it weren’t for your love for cheerleading, you probably would never have to see Jaehyun, but your passion came with a price. Competitors were often asked a series of questions, and these questions typically included inquiring about your hardships as an athlete. If someone were to ask you what the hardest part of being a cheerleader was, your answer would not be what they expected.

It wasn’t getting back up after bad falls that left you with bruises and a concussion. It wasn’t dealing with the basketball team’s aftermath of a devastating loss and having to cheer them on through it. It wasn’t waking up extra early for morning practices, or having to push yourself to run miles in the sweltering heat. Hell, it wasn’t even dealing with the horny basketball team members at afterparties.

It was the annual training camp.

Every winter, the team attended a week-long training session along with several other teams in the city. With state-of-the-art facilities and a massive training center, the training camp was an event that the entire team looked forward to. Although the training was brutal, the luxury of the hotel rooms and the gourmet meals had made up for all of that. Yet, despite all of that, the camp itself was still hell for you.

It wasn’t all bad, though. In fact, you indulged in the concept of a training camp, delighted with the opportunity to meet cheerleaders from different universities. A handful of your friends from high school had joined teams at different universities, so it was exciting to get to see them all again. All in all, it was the whole package deal: friends, your favorite sport, and fun times. What could possibly ruin that?

Well, a certain someone by the name of Jeong Jaehyun could, and that wonderful individual incensed your fury quite like no other.

“You again,” you spat, clutching your duffel bag strap. You had just gotten off the bus to head into the hotel, but the devil himself was blocking your way.

“Y/N,” the devil cooed, “do you need help carrying that?”

“I’m fine.”

You shrugged Jaehyun off and tried to move past him, but the bane of your existence had other plans. He tossed you a small carton of milk; it was the kind you could buy at a vending machine. Your reflexes kicked in just in time for you to catch it, giving him a questioning look.

“You should be drinking more milk, Y/N. It’s good for you,” Jaehyun said. You were sure he was going to make a snide comment so you opened your mouth to protest, but he continued, “Jaemin likes big tits, you know?”

Ouch.

You and Jaehyun went farther back than you’d like to admit. While you did currently attend different universities, you had the joyous experience of going to the same high school as him. He wasn’t too different now; he had the same dimpled smile, the same godly features, and the same cocky smirk when things were going the way he planned. What was different was that you two were once friends.

And what took the cake? You had a big crush on his friend and fellow teammate. Introducing Na Jaemin, everyone.

It wasn’t like you never got over Jaemin, but you had to admit that your heart still fluttered pitifully whenever you saw him. It didn’t help that he was so breathtakingly beautiful, so undeniably genuine, and such a sweetheart. Unfortunately, Jaehyun knew of your little secret. Being the conniving little snake he was, he used it to his advantage.

Ever since your fallout with him in your senior year of high school, you’ve hated Jeong Jaehyun, and you were sure he hated you right back. It almost felt akin to the competition at this point, and you were a pretty sore loser. Honestly, you were sad initially when he broke off your friendship in senior year and threw crude insults at you. You normally didn’t let things get to you, but it hurt to hear that your best friend didn’t want anything to do with you after you had told him you were going to a different university. You were sure the both of you had grown past that, but now he had changed from a sincere highschooler to a complete low-life piece of shit.

“You’re a douche, Jaehyun,” you sneered.

A grin spread across his face. “Yeah, I know.”

You scoffed. “God, if I could, I would smash that pretty face into—”

“Hey!” a loud voice laced with trepidation interjected. It was your best friend on your school’s basketball team, Mark Lee, coming to your rescue; or, rather, he was trying to prevent you from doing something you’d most probably regret. He shot Jaehyun a warning look and slung an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, what’re you doing here? We have to check into our hotel rooms.”

You looked back at Jaehyun to see a smug look on his face before he turned to catch up to Taeyong and Jaemin. You looked back up at Mark, who was also keeping an eye out for the demon in disguise.

“Thanks for getting me out of that mess,” you mumbled. “That guy is so infuriating. I can’t believe he still brings up Jaemin when I’m clearly over him!”

Your words were sharp enough that Mark and the people around you flinched, even if they weren’t completely paying attention to your rant. It was common knowledge that Jaehyun’s presence left you in low spirits, and Mark had come to terms that you would always be in a bitter mood during the training camp, and that there was only one person to blame for it.

Mark shot you a sympathetic look that you knew was intended to show his helpfulness, but instead just served to make you appear all the more bitter.

“Why don’t you just ignore him?” he suggested. “He’s just looking for a reaction out of you.”

“If I let him get the last word, then he wins.”

“At least he’d stop bothering you,” Mark reasoned as you both made your way to where your team had gathered by the reception desk.

“Is this about Jaehyun again?” Zhong Chenle chimed in, a devilish grin plastered across his face. “You’re a handful, Y/N.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you snapped.

Chenle just stared at you, arching a brow as if the answer should have been obvious. “You and Jaehyun,” he said, “there’s some tension there.”

“Wow, Sherlock Holmes. Observant, aren’t you?” you spat, words dripping with sarcasm. “We’ve hated each other for years. Of course there’s tension.”

Johnny Suh snorted, averting his gaze as to not bring attention to himself. Chenle rolled his eyes, a delighted smile on his face as he watched you carefully, digging into his bag of chips in the meantime.

“Y/N, I think he means a different kind of tension,” Mark said.

“What kind of tension?” you asked, shocking the rest of them with your surprisingly innocent response. In retrospect, it was more because you couldn’t imagine the answer being anything past the realm of hatred.

While they all hesitated to respond, Johnny spoke up, “He meant the ‘I wanna beat you up and then have rough sex with you’ kind of tension.”

You immediately froze—long enough for Chenle to take a picture of your reaction—the expression on your face a cross between incredulity and visceral rage. You must have looked like a ticking time bomb because Mark had to take a cautious step back.

“Come again? Rough sex?” You were well aware of how strangled and pitched your voice sounded as soon as it escaped your lips, how guilty it sounded, but you couldn’t focus on that as the weight of Johnny’s words were sinking in. “Jaehyun and I?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” Johnny answered.

“That’s a lie.”

“Yeah? Then why do you two always look at each other so weird?”

You didn’t know how to defend yourself now so you just said, “He’s a bastard and I would never see him in any other way.”

“You say that now but we all know—”

“Alright, let’s drop it,” Mark said, trying to defuse the situation before you blew it up into an argument. “I would rather go rest in my hotel room rather than bear witness to a homicide.”

“Fine, fine,” Johnny relented.

You scoffed and jabbed at his foot with yours before letting the topic go. Your squabbles with them were all in good nature, but this one somehow put you off. It was like Johnny had planted the seeds and were waiting for them to grow. You were starting to mull over every interaction you’ve had with Jeong Jaehyun.

Johnny and Chenle had made a startlingly accurate observation. You and Jaehyun did look at each other for a little too long sometimes, nearly to the point where it seemed like you were basking in the attention of the other—

No fucking way.

You were not going down that path. There was nothing more to your relationship with Jeong Jaehyun than pure hatred and resentment. He was a douchebag who was intent on making you feel like shit. His only motive was to start shit again between you and Jaemin, who you would’ve completely forgotten by now if it weren’t for him.

No way. There was absolutely no undercurrent of desire that was creeping its way to be uncovered.

Or was there? a small, treacherous part of your mind offered.

You were lost in your thoughts as the coaches handed you your room key, as you waited for your roommate who was some girl named Eunha from the other school, as you made your way to your room on the fifth floor.

The only thing you could think about were those long stares, those mesmerizing eyes, and the implication behind them. You always attributed it to Jaehyun being a hormonal teenage boy, but you had to admit that you’ve seen him look at you with some semblance of lust. Perhaps that same feeling was buried far in the depths of your consciousness, too.

Could you possibly be attracted to the devil incarnate, Jeong Jaehyun?

No, you argued with yourself, and shit, even your frontal lobe sounded pretty unconvinced. He’s a petty bastard and that’s all he’ll ever be.

You instilled the mantra of you and Jaehyun being sworn enemies in your head, but you couldn’t help the fact that it was peppered by the memories of an irritatingly familiar smirk. You scowled, willing your head to get rid of all-things-Jeong-Jaehyun, but he was right there.

Literally.

He was standing right in front of you.

“Hey, neighbor,” he teased, all too satisfied with the horrified look on your face. “Guess you can’t get rid of me.”

You were falling when you jolted awake.

A groan tore its way past your lips. You made sure you didn’t disrupt Eunha’s sleep before you recounted your dream. It had been a while since you’ve had one, and realization was morphing into shame when you realized what kind of dream it was. You’ve never had a wet dream before but what made you want to astral project yourself into oblivion was when you realized that Jaehyun caused it.

After tossing and turning for a couple of minutes in a desperate attempt for sleep to overcome you once more, you came to terms with the fact that you were staying awake for now. Staying awake was worse, though, because there was no way you could keep the intruding thoughts at bay. Not with the way Jeong Jaehyun kept flashing behind your eyelids, at least.

You considered how to spend the rest of your night, surveying your options as you stared up at the ceiling:

Watch season three of Riverdale on Netflix so you could make fun of it.

Attempt to sleep, but with little success because there was no way you were going back to bed after that dream.

Count the slacks of the window’s blinds even though it would be pointless because what the fuck were you going to do with that information?

It was truly astounding how interesting your life was.

You couldn’t think clearly with Eunha’s soft snoring, so you grabbed your keys and pushed the door open carefully to keep it from squealing. After your delicate movements to escape your room quietly, you leaned against the wall and let out a sigh of relief. You weren’t too keen on someone scolding you in the middle of the night for being outside, but you needed to clear your head somewhere. You packed for weather that was balmy, but the air conditioner carried a bite to it that made you wish you hadn’t just worn shorts and a tank top to bed.

You could practically hear Mark mocking you if he were here: Are you in the right headspace, Y/N?

You shook your head, getting your provoking best friend out of there, but instead, you found yourself wandering into dangerous territory again.

Johnny and Chenle were parroting the same words over and over again in your head. You wished you could use your metaphysical hands in your head and squeeze the life out of them, but they always flew out of your grasp. You clicked your tongue absentmindedly, your annoyance rehashing itself as your mind gravitated back to Jeong Jaehyun with his stupid smirk and annoyingly persistent cockiness. It was almost pitiful that you hated his guts and yet you couldn’t deny the magnetism he carried, the pull that made your breath hitch when he met your eyes.

His presence was announced by the change in the air more than anything else. You didn’t have to see him to know he was there. You clenched your jaw; you couldn’t catch a break from him even during the ungodly hours of the night.

He was unavoidable.

He hummed with amusement. “Look who’s here.”

“What are you doing up this late? Go to bed.”

You didn’t even bother to look at him because there was one thing you were sure of and it was that you could not look at his sickeningly attractive face right now. Jaehyun didn’t move, blatantly ignoring your order. The tension was so thick that you wanted to storm away, but you knew he would follow you just to piss you off.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he said. “You should be the one resting up. You cheerleaders always train until you’re near death.”

“Can’t sleep,” was your curt response.

He laughed once, a short sound that was pretty much gone the moment it hit your eardrums. “What? You get nightmares or something?”

“So what if I do?” you retaliated, getting oddly defensive. It was a given that you’d lie about getting a nightmare over a wet dream. “It’s none of your business.”

He laughed again but this time it was lower, more dangerous. “It’s my business when it concerns you.”

“I have and will never be your business, Jeong Jaehyun.”

He leaned against the wall. “I beg to differ.”

“Then keep begging.”

“If you say so.”

“Jaehyun,” you interrupted your own banter. “What’s the point of this conversation? Just go back to your room so we can go back to not talking to each other.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

“That’s unfortunate,” you said. “I don’t want to talk to you, so go find someone who does.”

“We don’t have to talk.” Suddenly, his voice sounded closer, and you forced your gaze down at the strangely-patterned hotel carpet.

You swallowed thickly. “I’m here to clear my head. I don’t want you to hover around me for the rest of the night.”

“Actually, I had something else in mind.”

He closed in on you, one of his hands skimming up the soft skin of your arm. A shudder ran down your spine as you felt his fingers travel up to your shoulder, your collarbone, and then the side of your neck. With a swift movement, he caged you in his arms, biceps flexing as he did.

What was going on? You couldn’t quite keep up with the situation but the way Jaehyun was looking down at you made you feel hot. It was exactly like your dream—

“Holy fuck, Jaehyun.”

You couldn’t stop the words from escaping your lips when you felt his hot breath on your neck. Your head went fuzzy and you were pretty sure your knees were ready to buckle under you. The corner of Jaehyun’s lip lifted into a smirk as if he had been planning this. You mustered a scowl at him but one thing was clear: you screwed yourself over by getting into this situation.

Damn it. You knew you should’ve watched season three of Riverdale instead

Also, Chenle and Johnny were right. Not that you’d ever tell them that; put simply, you were a sore loser.

Lust was swimming in Jaehyun’s eyes. The way he caged you felt predatory, a show of dominance rather than passion. That smirk of his carved in deeper, and it only pissed you off. Yet, as much as it pissed you off, all you wanted him to do was just ruin you.

Your pride was too strong, though, and you concluded that you would rather stick a fork in your eye than let Jaehyun do what he wanted. This sparked a dilemma in your head: to fuck or not to fuck Jaehyun, that was the question. One sounded like a pretty uneventful night, while the other sounded appealing save for the self-loathing you’d experience afterward.

“You want me, Y/N,” he cooed. “I know you do.”

“I hate you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“I mean it, Jaehyun,” you hissed. Your head was screaming at you to just go with it, but denying Jaehyun’s advances and provokes was just natural instinct to you. “I don’t want you. Stop lying to yourself.”

“Is that so? I think you’re the liar here,” he replied easily as you dodged his attempt to kiss you.

You pushed at his muscular arm but he didn’t budge. For a moment, you strongly considered just dropping to the ground and crawling out from under his legs, but you were done for. Seconds later, Jaehyun’s hand flew up, long fingers digging into the soft flesh of your face as he forced your chin upward to look at him directly. The lust in his eyes was so clear, so alluring, and it made you stop struggling for a second.

“I’m not going to ask you again. Let go of me.”

“Good, it’s a waste of breath.”

“Has anyone ever told you how infuriating you are?”

“You did. Many times.”

“Just fuck off already.”

Your words were like poison, but for some odd reason, Jaehyun was immune to it. Any reasonable person would at least flinch, but Jaehyun was so fixated on his one goal. Again, he didn’t budge. He gazed into your eyes with a fierce intensity that threw you off.

“Just let me fucking kiss you, Y/N.”

His smirk was gone. He wasn’t teasing you anymore. Jaehyun’s eyes darkened with his command.

He leaned in and you could feel his hot breath fanning your lips, drinking in your appearance. You were pulled into his trap and you hated yourself for it. You swallowed hard as all of your worries about being with Jaehyun and getting caught had started to fade away. All you could do was yield to him.

“Fine,” you whispered.

“Good girl,” was all he got out before basically smashing your lips together.

It was rushed, messy, and way too rough. Jaehyun grabbed the back of your neck, his other arm still locking you in place. Your hands moved from gripping at the front of his shirt to slowly wrapping around his neck. You weren’t sure how you felt, but there was something that made you want to tangle your fingers in his hair and get lost in him.

The moment Jaehyun’s tongue slid along the crease of your lips, you were conflicted. You weren’t exactly sure what to do so he took the reins. You wondered if he was expressing his pent-up hatred as well. It was clear in the way he was taking prying your mouth open with his tongue, snaking his hot muscle to dance with yours as if he had something to prove. He wanted you to see that he was the dominant one, that he had leverage over the situation.

But when he broke away, he flipped the switch. The both of you were left catching your breath, Jaehyun resting his forehead against yours in a feeling that had a weird sort of intimacy stemming from it. His hand dropped from your neck to brush messy locks of hair behind your shoulders.

Well, that explained why humans were so tempted by the devil.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Jaehyun grinned down at you.

You fought down the shyness that was creeping into your chest. Before you could respond, the both of you turned your heads at the sound of footsteps. A flashlight glimpsed by you when you saw two dark figures at the end of the hall. It didn’t sound like your coach, but you weren’t too keen on sticking around to figure out who it was.

“Son, how in the world did you get locked out of your room this late?” one of them asked.

“I’m telling you, I needed to use the bathroom so I went outside without my key, and then I remembered the bathroom was in the room.”

That voice was most definitely Mark.

“Hey!” the security guard scolded when he saw you two. “What are you kids doing? It’s late!”

“You’re on your own.” You pushed Jaehyun away from you and fumbled for your keys before Mark or the security guard could spot you. “Bye.”

You jammed your key in, not worried about waking up your roommate anymore. All you could hear was Jaehyun growling out a short string of curses before you shut the door behind him and leaned against it. Your head was still reeling in what had just happened, but that kiss had left you in the clouds. You could feel the ghost of his lips on yours. Dazed, you just fell onto your bed, into the entrancing clutches of sleep.

You were exhausted when you woke up, and you blamed Jaehyun for it.

You weren’t in the proper condition for training; you hadn’t gotten enough sleep and your head was a mess (well, you supposed you were the only one to blame for the latter). You forgot to set your alarm so you woke up to Eunha shaking you gently, coaxing you into stirring. She was already dressed, tying her hair up in a ponytail. You all but jumped out of bed when you saw her, thinking you were late.

“What time is it?” you asked groggily, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you stood up and tried to adjust to the morning light.

“You’ve still got plenty of time,” she assured you. “I just like to get ready early so I can go for a quick run.”

“Ah, okay. Have fun,” you mumbled before she left the room, leaving you to drag yourself around the room to get ready. You heard a knock at the door and went to open it, assuming it was Eunha forgetting her keys. Your eyes narrowed when you saw who it was. “Jaehyun?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” His voice was somewhere between a pant and a rasp as if he had been working out, which he probably was judging by the sheen of sweat on his biceps.

“Were you waiting for Eunha to leave?” you asked. “You’re disgusting. Why would you think about me?”

“I was thinking about how much of a bitch you are for running away and letting me get in trouble like that.”

“Pity.” You mocked a pout for him. “Now move. I have to get ready.”

“Let me in.”

You made a face at the thought. You knew where he was going with this and you needed to stop it. “No. You’re disgusting.”

“You liked it last night.”

His eyes searched yours in the dim light, looking for something that unfortunately was there: longing. You were never the greatest at hiding your emotions, which was why you couldn’t lie to yourself and refuse Jaehyun. Screw your transparency. Jaehyun grinned at your silence and took a step in your room when you opened your door wider for him.

You closed the door. “I hated every second of it,” you said in a childish attempt to get on his nerves.

You were a terrible liar.

Your back was against the door in a second. You could only let out a soft gasp before he kissed you, hands on your waist, slowing his movements unlike the hurriedness from last night. It was foreign, the way he kissed you like you were the only girl he saw. You pulled away quickly but it just left the both of you staring at each other’s lips.

“You sure about that?” His lips curled into a smirk.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you warned in a low voice, “I still hate your guts.”

“As I’m reminded of every single time I see you,” he returned coolly.

“Fuck off.”

This time, you pulled him down to kiss him again. You fisted your hand into his hair, tugging at his dark locks as your lips moved smoothly against his. Caught off guard, Jaehyun groaned, low and deep against your lips.

The two of you separated again before Jaehyun said, “See? I know you want me. Only I can make you feel this good, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

Jaehyun’s eyes darkened at the challenge. To prove his point, he pushed his knee up and between your legs, pressing against your clothed cunt. A gasp escaped your lips, the fingers curled in his hair instinctively tightening. You bit your lip but to no avail; a whimper escaped your lips as soon as he started pulsing his knee against you. You grabbed onto his shoulders for leverage, burying your face into his chest while bunching up the thin fabric of his shirt.

You wanted to hold back your moans because you were adamant about not giving Jeong Jaehyun the satisfaction of hearing you moan. Instead, you shifted your hips so that the pressure of his knee became more intense. Sparks flew behind your eyelids as he bounced his knee under you.

He finally released the tight grip he had on your waist in favor of palming one of your breasts, squeezing it firmly through your shirt and bra. All the while, he continued ramming his knee against the apex of your legs. He kept his eyes on yours and you scowled at the thought of him getting off on seeing you crumble in front of him. But you couldn’t stop yourself. He wanted to completely and utterly ruin you, wanted to fuck you in and shut you up.

The worst part was that you wanted to let him.

“You’re so cute when you’re like this,” he mused, slowly rubbing his knee in circles against you. “God, you’re still wearing that fucking tank top.”

“You’re such a—ah!”

He groped your chest again, thumb pressing down on your nipple. Another whimper escaped you as Jaehyun grazed his lips down your neck, nipping at the supple skin. You only got louder as the kisses turned into bites.

He ignored you and removed his hand. Instead, he tugged the neckline of your tank top down, delighted at the loose straps sliding down your shoulders. He yanked it down to your waist so you were exposed to him, and you swore you heard his breath hitch. Jaehyun pinched your nipple with two fingers, drawing out a moan that drove him crazy. He buried his face into your neck, sucking and making you quiver under him.

“Didn’t you say I had small tits earlier?” you jeered, a teasing lilt to your tone.

“Yeah, I still stand by that,” he replied, resulting in you punching his shoulder.

“Asshole.”

“Hey, I never said it wasn’t cute.”

“You’re such a softie,” you grumbled, but your voice was gentler than before. It was almost like you were warming up to Jeong Jaehyun, and you hated the mere thought of that.

Jaehyun pulled away from your neck. “Y/N, I want you to suck me off,” he demanded.

“I refuse.”

“Be a good girl and do it for me.”

You swore you’d go crazy if he called you ‘good girl’ one more time. You were pretty revolted at the thought of sucking his dick, but the way he looked so fragile under your hold made you want to do it for the power rush. It was like some cheap porno in a way; ‘College Jock Gets Sucked Off By Cheerleader.’ You bet half the members on the team beat their meat to something similar to that.

Your shoulders sagged. “Fine. Get on the bed.”

Jaehyun groaned at your approval. “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he said, letting go of you to pull down his sweats on his way to your bed. He sat at the edge of it, tugging the elastic of his boxers down. You swallowed hard, tugging your tank top back up as you stared at his painfully hard erection springing out.

You got on your knees in front of him, lips parted in anticipation of taking in his length. Your hair fell over your face, which Jaehyun took notice of and held it back in a fist. Taking a deep breath, you wrapped your hand around his cock. It was rock solid to the touch and twitched at your grip. Glancing up at an eager Jaehyun, you pumped the length of it once, inciting a groan from him.

You wrapped your lips around the head of his cock, rousing a strangled noise from his throat. He looked down at you through half-lidded eyes, messy strands of your hair tangling in his fingers while his other hand was gripping the stiff hotel sheets. Then, you took him in fully at his encouragement (which was more of him just grabbing the back of your head and pushing it down on his cock).

“Shit,” he breathed out before slowly moving his hips in and out of your mouth. It was like iron wrapped around velvet, and he was relishing how hot your mouth felt.

He pushed your head down further and right as you gagged on his length, there was a knock at the door.

“Y/N!” Mark’s voice sounded from the other side. “Are you coming for breakfast?”

You pulled off of him with a pop, a string of saliva dripping off your lips. Your eyes were wide as you lunged for your phone, checking the texts. Meanwhile, Jaehyun just frowned down at you, looking up at the ceiling with a frustrated sigh.

“Holy fuck,” you muttered when you looked at the time. You called out to Mark, “Give me a minute!”

“Perfect,” Jaehyun said in a low voice and held the back of your head, attempting to push you down on him. “We can finish up now.”

“Are you an idiot?” you hissed, swatting at his hand. “I have to get out of here before Mark finds out you’re in here.”

Ignoring your state of panic, Jaehyun said, “You look so hot with drool on your chin.”

That was the most disgusting thing you had ever heard, and if it weren’t for Mark being on the other side of the door where you and Jaehyun were screwing around, you would have beat the living daylights out of him. Only a creep like Jeong Jaehyun could find something like drool sexy. You scowled at him and wiped it off with the back of your hand.

“Put your dick away,” you scolded. “Hide in the closet and you can leave when I’m gone.”

He rolled his eyes at you and stood up, making his way to the bathroom. “I need to get rid of the problem you caused.”

You had no time to complain about him jerking off in your bathroom. Mark was not a very patient man, so as soon as Jaehyun closed the door behind him, you stripped off your pajamas and threw on whatever was at the top of your suitcase. You brushed your teeth at the speed of light, using your other hand to brush down your hair. After you laced up your shoes, you opened the door to Mark looking at you suspiciously.

“You’re never late,” he pointed out.

“I couldn’t sleep last night,” you said. In your defense, it wasn’t a complete lie.

“Oh, by the way,” Mark started, “can I use your bathroom real quick?”

“No!” you exclaimed, pushing him away from your room and in the direction of the elevator. “My roommate, um, is… on her period—yeah, you don’t want to see that mess.”

Another reason why you hated Jeong Jaehyun was for giving you reasons to lie when you were a terrible liar.

Training was long and grueling. Your bones were mush and your muscles ached, pins and needles shooting through you every time you moved. As your teammates dragged you to get dinner with them, you couldn’t even resist because you were so drained.

The one thing you loved about training was that you could wear whatever you wanted, whereas you were confined to tight skirts and crop tops at your university. Now, you could rest in whatever position you wanted without worrying about exposing anything, so you didn’t hesitate to manspread as soon as you got to the cafeteria table.

“Did you guys hear about Jaehyun from the other school?” one of the girls gossiped. “Looks like he was fooling around with someone last night.”

You were grounded back into reality from whatever dimension you were floating about in. Your teammates were perplexed as you choked on air, hitting your chest to stop yourself from coughing. You were handed a glass of water, which you gingerly accepted and drank until your body had calmed down.

“Ah, sorry, Y/N,” your teammate apologized. “I forgot you and Jaehyun have bad blood between you.”

“You’re good,” you told her, waving it off. “I was surprised for a second, but I guess it makes sense for a guy like him to go around hooking up.” Then, silence fell. You were confused as they all looked at you with a puzzled look. “What? Am I stereotyping too harshly? My bad.”

“No, it’s not that,” another chimed in. “A lot of girls go around hitting on him, but Jaehyun never lays a hand on them. I thought it was common knowledge that he doesn’t do that sort of stuff, but I guess it makes sense that you don’t care about the details.”

That was news to you.

“Yeah,” you replied distantly. “I don’t care.”

So Jaehyun doesn’t hook up, was what you happened to hear around the grapevine, and he most definitely doesn’t hook up with his enemies.

You stood up in the middle of your dinner. “I gotta go,” you said. “I’ll see you girls tomorrow.”

You actually weren’t very sure where Jaehyun was, but you figured if you walked around enough, you’d run into him or someone from his team. You headed out of the canteen and walked to the basketball courts, expecting to see him dribbling a bar or doing reps. But the first person you saw was Na Jaemin, and he noticed you immediately, eyes sparkling with recognition.

“Y/N!” he greeted cheerfully. “It’s been so long.”

That infectious smile of his was plastered across his face, making a small one creep to your lips. If Jaehyun smiled like that more, then you could understand his charm, but he was always so moody around you. He either did something to get on your nerves or he would just flat-out ignore you. Furthermore, he always riled you up instead of offering you that warm security that Jaemin emanated—

Wait, why were you comparing him to Jaehyun?

“Sorry,” you apologized meekly. “Am I interrupting your practice time?”

“No, it’s cool. We were just messing around in here,” Jaemin replied. “Are you looking for someone?”

You looked into Jaemin’s eyes and your thoughts slowed. He made you feel safe, warm, but that was all; there was no fire, no rage, no heat. It was just a shallow attraction that fizzled out, leaving you neither satisfied nor dissatisfied. And you clawed at your brain as you wondered what you were getting at, but you knew. You knew it was all going back to Jaehyun.

And it pissed you off.

“I was looking for Jaehyun,” you said, “if he happened to be in here.”

“He told me he was going for a swim,” Jaemin said, and that was all you needed.

Before Jaemin could respond, you thanked him and turned on your heel. The pool was in a separate building, and there was no training that even required swimming, so it made no sense for Jaehyun to be there. You let out a frustrated sigh. Even when he wasn’t doing anything in particular to annoy you, it still managed to anger you.

You weren’t going to let Jaehyun do what he wanted this time. This was merely for interrogation—your own personal gain. Then, you thought it over some more, and you reasonably concluded that there was a 97.5% chance that you would not lay a finger on him, but there was a 2.5% chance you’d cave.

When you got to the facility where the pool was, you were entranced by the renovation at first. The pool was massive and the equipment was lined up so neatly along the walls. You peered through the glass to see the pool completely empty save for Jaehyun in the hot tub.

He met your eyes while you opened the door to the pool. His eyebrow arched at your entrance but a smirk settled on his lips as you neared him. You tried to push down your lust; you were not letting him get to you again. You crouched down by the side of the pool and Jaehyun moved so he was facing you, holding onto the edge of the hot tub.

“What brings you here?’ he asked, playfully flicking some water in your direction.

You flinched and scrunched up your nose at his action. “I heard you don’t do hookups.”

“You heard correctly.”

“So what am I?”

“You’re Y/N.”

You were a coward. Admittedly, you had probably always been running away from your own problems, deflecting your feelings with unbridled hate that had no direction, no meaning. Underneath your blunt and fiery front was pure cowardice. Even now, you refused to admit anything to yourself.

You didn’t want to accept that maybe you actually liked Jeong Jaehyun.

Maybe you’ve always liked him.

“Don’t be stupid, Jaehyun,” you grumbled. “You’ve always hated me.”

“I think you just want to believe I hate you. Is that how you suppress your feelings?”

“How long have you liked me for, then? Days?”

“Years.”

You paused for a moment as you recounted your interactions with Jaehyun. It was true that he never explicitly said he hated you and that you always started the arguments, but he was the one who broke off your friendship. Why would he do that if he didn’t hate you?

“You said you wanted nothing to do with me, Jaehyun,” you said in a smaller voice, fist balling at your side.

“You were going to a different university.” He ran a hand through his damp hair, and although you were angry, it was difficult not to enjoy the view. “Plus, you just kept going on and on about Jaemin, and I couldn’t even shut that mouth of yours up back then.”

“So you cut me off?”

“I felt like I was being petty, so I tried to apologize but you blocked my number and wouldn’t let me come near you,” Jaehyun deadpanned. He reached forward and grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to him. You teetered on the balls of your feet, swallowing hard. “Forgive me?”

“No.”

Jaehyun rose up a little so he was eye-to-eye with you. He smiled at your flustered expression and cupped your cheek with his wet hand. Every muscle in your body was telling you to pull away but you couldn’t. Not when his lips were so close, when his eyes were boring into yours.

“Forgive me,” he repeated in a gentler tone, but it became more of an order than a question.

“Make me,” you whispered and Jaehyun groaned, somewhat helplessly.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear.”

You opened your mouth to say something more, but you couldn’t even form your words as Jaehyun yanked you forward and sealed your lips with a kiss. Before, you had the sense to try and push him away, but now you were held captive. He slid his tongue past your lips and you let out an appreciative whimper, hand sliding into his wet hair. You tugged at his hair and this time, Jaehyun was the one to react.

He pulled away for a moment to catch his breath, eyes clouding over with lust. “Get in with me,” he said, voice rumbling. You shivered as he dragged his lips down to your jaw; you could feel his voice reverberate down your spine and to your feet.

“What if someone walks in?” you asked in a daze.

“There’s no use for the swim facility, so no one’s going to walk in on us,” he persuaded. “Come in.”

Water dripped from his neck, landing on your thigh. You took in a sharp breath as his hand tugged at your waist. While the pleading look on his face was priceless, you couldn’t even ridicule him because you were at your limit, too. You let out an irritated sigh when you realized you gave into that 2.5% of you caving.

You responded by pulling off your shirt, tossing it to the side where Jaehyun had left his shoes and towel. Jaehyun watched you as you fiddled with the clamp of your bra. Meanwhile, his hands went to the waistband of your sweats, making you shudder as he tugged them down at the sides. You raised your hips to help him get them off and, after removing your bra, you were only left in your underwear to protect you from his hungry gaze.

You weren’t the type to hook up with guys. Hell, you weren’t the type to even show a guy your ankle if he asked. You thought you’d feel insecure with Jaehyun eyeing you in your full glory, but there was none of that. You wanted to know why it was so different with him but maybe it was the way he looked at you like he just wanted to kiss you. Or maybe a tiny part of your heart always belonged to Jaehyun, and you couldn’t bury it anymore.

“You’re so gorgeous.”

He mumbled the words, barely audible, but they set you on fire. He pulled you down onto his lap like you were his anchor, and you were afraid you’d get swept with the current, but you let him. You’ve only ever kissed a few guys before, so you really had no idea what the fuck you were getting into. All you were sure about was that Jaehyun could make you feel good and you were having your first time in a hot tub. You only prayed that you wouldn’t pass out from the pleasure combined with the heat of the water.

“Is this your first time?” he asked, gliding his hands down your sides. You nodded. “Then I’ll be gentle.” Truly, you did find his gesture rather sweet, but it didn’t stop you from rolling your eyes. Jaheyun saw and narrowed his brows. “I don’t hate you, but you really piss me off sometimes.”

He kissed you again. It was more passionate this time, but also harsher and messier. You let out a sound that was something between a yelp and a moan, making Jaehyun move his hands to run down your bare back. Then, he planted his thumb on your clit and pressed down in a way that made a muscle in your thigh twitch. Your grip on his shoulders tightened; you weren’t expecting that. It felt different in the water, but somehow, you couldn’t get enough of it.

“You’re wet,” he mumbled against your lips as his fingers found purchase on your slit.

“We’re in the water, you idiot.”

Jaehyun scoffed. “You know what, Y/N, you’re right, I did hate you,” he spat, rubbing small circles around your clit now. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders to steady yourself, whimpering as his movements grew more intense. “I fucking hated how you looked at Jaemin with those love-struck eyes.”

There was a shift in his usual cocky expression. He turned focused and, to a degree, angry. It was the kind of look on his face you saw when he was on the basketball court or during a game.

“You’re the one who told me to go after him.”

Wrong choice of words. Jaehyun lifted you up and placed you on the edge of the pool, pushing a finger inside you with no warning. You gasped, your mouth open to ask him why he took you out of the water, but you already knew the answer; he wanted to feel you completely.

“R-right there,” you whimpered out as he pushed his finger deeper inside of you.

He started to curl his finger whenever he passed over your g-spot, and you had to close your eyes. Jaehyun pulled his finger out to marvel at the slick wetness that coated it. Your body tingled as he slid his finger inside you again. This time, he was teasing your slit with a second digit. Jaehyun had no delicacy, though, and he all but shoved in a second finger, causing you to cry out.

He didn’t even care. You opened your mouth to call him a bastard, but all that came out was a pitched moan that seemed to float up to the stars.

“I fucking hated,” he rasped as he pumped two fingers inside of you, “how you treated Jaemin like he was the only one in the world.”

“I don’t… like Jaemin,” you got out, each labored breath of yours fighting off another moan. “I’ve stopped liking Jaemin after high school.”

Jaehyun’s free hand went to your chest, cupping one of your breasts as he rubbed circles around your nipple. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, unable to contain yourself as the fingers on your clit got almost frantic in their place, and the fingers inside of you were pushing against your walls. You felt an unfamiliar cold fire that felt so fucking good, lighting you up and threatening to spill over. Your muscles clenched and spasmed around Jaehyun, and you weren’t even in the hot tub but you felt like you were sinking.

A high-pitched moan left your lips, leaving you hot with embarrassment because you didn’t know you could make a sound like that. You fell from your peak, relaxing in Jaehyun’s hold; it felt like you were floating amongst the clouds in an almost euphoric way.

“I don’t like Jaemin,” you breathed out, still winded from your orgasm, “you fucking idiot.”

“I know.” Jaehyun pulled his fingers out of you, eyes trained on you as he licked them slowly. The look on his face was more gentle now. With his free hand, he brushed loose strands of your hair out of your face. “You like me now.”

“No, I’ve loved you for a while now.” You didn’t know what possessed you to say what was on your mind, but it surprised you more than it surprised Jaehyun. “I didn’t realize it then but… I think I did.”

Love? Love?

You thought you knew what love was. Something that you felt in your bones, that burst within you instantly. Simple glances, thoughts, and daydreams—something gentle and fluffy, but also emotionally shattering. You thought it was tender smiles, kind words, and little gestures.

But maybe that was the kind of love that led to puffy eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and hoarse voices. The kind of love that was left fruitless with an empty gap in your chest.

Maybe this was different.

It was instinctive, the way you fell for him. Like an effortless intake of breath, you were in love before you even knew it. You always thought love was a monster. Ravaging, scraping, foul monsters with jaws so immeasurably large that they would have swallowed you whole. But maybe it wasn’t the tragedy you made it out to be.

With Jaehyun it was fierce and maddening and made you want to rip your hair out. It was a violent hurricane that you tried to brave your way through. But you were blind. You were already at the eye; you had always been at the center without realizing it. And, despite all the pointless arguments and name-calling, it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced.

Yeah, you liked him. You liked how you were around him, despite how much you complained about it to Mark. Part of you refused to admit it, but sometimes the bickering was fun. You realized that you never let go of Jaehyun before because you couldn’t. You simply didn’t want to be without him because Jeong Jaehyun drove a deeper passion within you.

Your rose-tinted loving moment was ruined as soon as a shit-eating grin spread across Jaehyun’s face.

“You love me.”

“I’ll kill you.”

“You love me,” Jaehyun echoed as if he was internalizing the information. “You love me.”

“I take it back,” you said flatly. “I hate you, I hate you, and I’ve always hated you.”

Jaehyun ignored your words, his cockiness morphing into adoration. “You actually love me back.” He cupped your face in his hands, eyes turning into little crescents as he smiled. “Even though I called you a cougar for liking a guy a year younger than you?”

“Yes.”

“Even though I made fun of you wearing a push-up bra in front of him?”

You clenched your jaw. “Yes.”

“Even though I asked Johnny about you and he told me that I still live in your mind, rent-free?”

“What? Johnny said that?” you exclaimed, eyes wide. You grimaced. Johnny would be dealt with later. You placed your hands on Jaehyun’s shoulders and made direct eye contact. “Look, Jaehyun—as much as it hurts me to say this and I’d rather tear out my vocal cords—I like you. I like you so much that I don’t care about the petty shit you pulled when I liked Jaemin because frankly, I don’t care about Jaemin anymore.”

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”

You wanted to slap him.

“Are you just constantly horny?” you snapped. “I’m pouring out my feelings to you here!”

“I’m better at expressing my love through actions, not words,” Jaehyun explained. “Can I show you?”

“Is this another ploy to get in my pants?”

“No, I’m asking you out on a date,” he said. “Sneak out with me tonight. I want to explore the city with you.”

The offer was tempting. In fact, you found no reason to be opposed to the idea. After all, you were always down for an adventure in the city. Jaehyun being with you didn’t sound too bad either, especially when Seoul was so lively at night. Part of you wanted it purely to catch up on all the time you missed when you stopped being friends.

“Fine,” you agreed. “An hour after curfew.”

“Great.” Jaehyun flashed a grin that slowly curled into a smirk. “Now let me get in your pants.”

“Are you kidding?”

“Y/N, you see,” Jaehyun started, “I don’t hate you, but you’ve really pissed me off these past two years. We have all of this pent-up rage, so it’s only fair that we let it out on each other.” His grip on your hips tightened.

You loathed yourself for wanting him, and for putting aside the fear of being walked in on for him. You internally cringed at the thought of Mark accidentally bearing witness, and you weren’t sure you were willing to explain the situation to him just yet.

It was the price you paid for carnality, you supposed.

You sighed in a forced way so that you sounded reluctant and bored. Unfortunately, your plan backfired and you ended up feeling bad when a concerned look crossed Jaehyun’s face.

“If you’re worried about getting caught, I’ll just cover you,” Jaehyun mumbled, the softness of his voice almost putting you at ease.

You rolled your eyes. “How kind of you.” You paused and looked up at him. “Are we really going to have sex for the first time here?”

Jaehyun looked around him. “Well, I guess we could go to the hotel room if—”

“Nope!” you interrupted, wrapping your arms around his neck and drawing him closer to you. “Let’s do it here. I love the pool, love having sex at the pool.”

He rose a brow at you, hands making their way down your body. Suddenly, your realization of being completely exposed had heightened, and you pressed your thighs together. Maybe it was because your vulnerability showed on your face, clear as day, but Jaehyun smirked, further flustering you by tugging down his swim shorts to reveal his hardened cock.

It was heavy and warm against your thigh, but what you were fixed on was the v-line on his pelvis. You traced along the bone, making him shiver under your touch. You were shocked when he grabbed your wrist tightly, holding it away from him.

“You’re playing a dangerous game here,” he growled. Jaehyun leaned closer and nipped at the shell of your earlobe, chuckling as you tensed up under his hold. His hot breath made you squirm under his grip.

Have you ever noticed how insanely attractive he was? Yes, of course. You weren’t an idiot.

Have you ever appreciated his beauty until now? Probably not.

“Just fuck me already, Jae,” you grumbled out as he pushed you down onto the deck of the pool.

In seconds, Jaehyun grabbed your hips and pulled them to his waist. Without any preamble, he rammed himself inside of you. The motion caught you by surprise and you cried out, half out of pleasure and half out of pain. You were definitely wet from being fingered earlier, but two fingers were nothing compared to Jaehyun’s cock.

Seeing his cock disappear in you was enough to make you whimper. Your walls clenched around him, pulsating at the foreign feeling. You were tempted to slap him upside the head for going so fast, but all you could do was tug at his hair and wrap your legs around him.

“You bastard, I’ll fucking—oh.”

Jaehyun laughed cruelly at your reaction, partly to cover up the groan caught in his throat and partly because your attempts at being mad at him were downright pathetic. When you had adjusted to his size, Jaehyun grunted and pounded in you, hitting spots that made your limbs feel like jelly. As if that wasn’t enough, Jaehyun found your clit with the hand that didn’t have a bruising grip on your waist and pressed harshly against it.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Jaehyun gritted out.

“T-then be gentle,” you bargained, drowning in a molten sea.

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes at you. “Have you ever fucking heard of gentle hate sex?” he asked, validating his point with a particularly hard thrust.

Your fingernails dug into his back, leaving hot-white trails down his skin. You were certain you had drawn blood, but knowing Jaehyun, he’d probably feel proud if he saw it. He brought his lips to your neck as you writhed under him, biting around until he found your sweet spot. This wasn’t fair; he was pleasuring you in every way possible and all you could do was cry out as he pummeled in you.

You closed your eyes, sparks flying behind your eyelids as you felt your release rushing to you.

Then, he slowed his strokes down considerably.

“Look at me,” he ordered in a rasp. Your eyes fluttered open, remaining half-lidded as you felt like you were going to spill over. “Look at me when I’m fucking you.”

He slapped his hips against yours again, the sound of skin against skin making you shudder. Jaehyun filled you up to the brim and you were oh-so-close to letting go and falling off the edge. The hardscape was cool but you were on fire, bliss overtaking all of your senses. Your toes curled as you held onto his damp skin for dear life, not sure if it was because he was in the pool or he was sweating due to the heat you both emanated.

“R-right there!”  you wailed. “Fuck, right there!”

Jaehyun angled his hips slightly to pound into you, causing you to see metaphysical stars. It was so hard to keep eye contact with him when your eyes just wanted to roll back. Jaehyun let out a groan by your ear, low and guttural. You didn’t even notice how tight the grip he has on you until he releases your hip for you to see the print he left.

You could tell he was close, but he wanted to hold on for you. Both of your breaths were labored as you stared into each other’s eyes, your body moving up and down against the hardscape as Jaehyun railed you. You tightened your grip on him, a pathetic moan falling from your lips as you were falling over the edge.

Jaehyun understood and fucked you through your orgasm, making sure you made the most of it. Warmth blossomed under your skin as you cried out in pure bliss, your vision blurring and refocusing as it flickered from normal to pure white as you rode out your high. You ground yourself back to reality after nearly sobbing out his name, the pleasure overwhelming you. Jaehyun’s eyes went hazy as he fell apart right after you did, and soon, you felt something warm spill inside of you.

Jaehyun finished inside of you and stuttered out a curse as he pulled out of you. He rolled over and laid on the deck of the pool next to you, the both of you catching your breath like you had just run a marathon.

“I have a cute date idea for tonight,” Jaehyun said after a long pause.

You looked over, watching his chest rise and fall. “Yeah?”

“We go to the store and buy Plan B.”

You couldn’t even disagree.

“Sounds good.”

Jaehyun dragged himself off the floor, muttering something along the lines of “shit, that felt good” to himself as he reached for his swim trunks to pull back on. You grabbed a towel to dry yourself off, but pins and needles shot up your legs when you tried to walk. Jaehyun noticed immediately and a smug look settled on his face again, not the least bit remorseful.

You scowled as you slipped your clothes back on. “Shut up,” you jeered. “You’re so shameless for someone who can’t pull out.”

“Oops,” he replied flatly.

“I hate you, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun ran a hand through his damp hair, letting out a laugh as he shook his head. He picked up another towel from the chairs by the poolside and wrapped it around so it covered your head. You bit your lip as you watched him attempt to dry your hair. It was times like these when he seemed so gentle and delicate, unlike his usual irritating attitude.

“You liked it, though,” Jaehyun said. “Right?”

You faltered, looking down at your feet as he continued to dry your hair. “Yeah.”

Jaehyun smiled softly and leaned in swiftly to peck your lips, but your moment was interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

Mark was gaping at you two, eyelids fluttering rapidly as if he was trying to blink away what he had just seen.

“Y/N? Jeong Jaehyun?” Mark questioned, his voice an octave higher than usual. Realization crossed his face through a series of facial expressions that morphed far too quickly for you to process. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Mark!” You and Jaehyun pulled away from each other quickly.

Mark paused to think his words through. “Did I almost walk in on a murder?”

You let out a frustrated groan. “Jesus, Mark, if you’re not going to read the room, at least SparkNote it.”

“Wait, so you were kissing?”

“No, we didn’t kiss,” Jaehyun assured, and you felt tricked for feeling relieved for a split second. “We actually had sex.”

Jaehyun’s words ended with a splutter as you elbowed him in the gut. Mark looked between the two of you, boggled. You nudged Jaehyun again with your foot, signaling for him to leave so you could handle Mark. Thankfully, he took your cue this time and grabbed his towel, mockingly saluting the both of you. You were stupid to think you were safe, though, because Jaehyun had to get another last word in before he walked off.

“See you tonight, Y/N.”

There was a long, awkward pause while Jaehyun opened the door and left the building. You and Mark were staring at each other but neither of you knew what to say or how to approach the subject.

“I just… I just came here to find you, and Jaemin told me you went to the pool. You…” Mark started. He looked absolutely horrified, like a corpse had fallen to his feet—no, rather, he looked like a corpse himself, like someone attempted to do taxidermy on him but did a shit job. “Bitch.”

“Let me explain.”

“Bitch,” Mark enunciated, “you just fucked the hottest guy here, oh my god.”

Definitely not the reaction you were expecting, but you supposed it wasn’t a bad one. You were glad he wasn’t getting into the whole ‘why didn’t you tell me? I’m your best friend’ rant, but this was equally as overwhelming.

Mark continued, “Wait—is that why you were late this morning? Oh my god, this has been a thing. You’ve been hooking up with him in secret, haven’t you?”

“No? Well, yes, but it hasn’t been much until, um”—you gestured awkwardly around you—“you know.”

“So you were the one who was with Jaehyun last night?”

“Yes.”

“And this morning before I picked you up?”

“Yes.”

“Are you two dating now?”

“Honestly, I really don't know,” you admitted. “Mark, please don’t tell anyone about this. Especially not those little shits, Chenle and Johnny.”

Mark gulped. “About that…”

Before you could question him, there was a chorus of loud clapping echoing from the locker rooms which was then followed by a few cheers. You grimaced as the two boys you didn’t want to see walked out: Chenle and Johnny, Tweedledee and Tweedledum themselves. They both wore cocky smirks as they shook their head at you, which made Mark a touch more nervous than he was before.

“Have anything to say for yourself, Y/N?” Chenle teased.

“Go to hell.” You scoffed and turned to Mark, narrowing in on him. “Why’d you bring them along? What are you? The three stooges?”

“We were looking for you so we could invite you to the movie night we were having in Jungwoo’s room!” Mark defended. “I swear, if I knew about you and Jaehyun, I never would’ve brought them along.”

You sighed deeply as Chenle snickered to himself. “Well, I guess Y/N can’t come to movie night since she has a date with—hold on, what did you call him again? The devil?”

“Okay, I get it!” You threw your hands up in defeat, eyes closed to show you were reflecting upon your actions. “I’m a dirty hypocrite and I’ve committed a crime worse than death.” You opened your eyes again. “I’m sorry.” To your surprise, Chenle and Johnny had their right hand up. You stared at it, puzzled. “Do you want me to make an oath or something?”

“In modern society,” Johnny explained, “we call it a high-five.”

It took you a few seconds to process their words before you tentatively gave them each a firm high-five. You blinked up at them before ease washed over you. This was how it always was, anyways. At the end of the day, no matter how much you guys bickered or teased each other, you always made up. That's what friends were for, after all.

“There we go,” you said, oddly satisfied. “For now, I’ll let go of the fact that Johnny snitched on me to Jaehyun behind my back.”

“How dare you!” Johnny gasped. “Chenle was with me.”

Chenle raised his hand to confirm the statement. “Indeed. Please give credit where it's due.”

“Alright, fuck you both.”

What the fuck even was a date?

This was foreign territory to you, but even so, you decided you wouldn’t rely on your annoying friends. First of all, you were sure they wouldn’t really be of any help and just endlessly tease you about it. Secondly, they were simply going to gradually grow more stressed (Mark), lecherous (Johnny), and aggravating (Chenle). Thus, you decided to slay the monster of first dates yourself.

Your first hurdle was looking cute. You packed absolutely nothing that wasn’t for the training camp, so you had already failed. Jaehyun was going to have to deal with you in your gym shorts and a school t-shirt.

Your second hurdle was sneaking away from Eunha, your roommate. That was a piece of cake considering how she didn’t exactly care. When you headed out of the room, wallet and phone in hand, she wished you a kind farewell, which you returned.

Your third hurdle was sneaking out of the hotel. You weren’t quite sure how you and Jaehyun made it outside without being spotted, but you were certain he must have tipped off some of the staff because there was no way the both of you could have walked straight out of the lobby without being reported. When you asked him, though, he said it was probably because you looked like the cleaning lady.

Needless to say, Jaehyun was on thin ice.

You loved Seoul, loved the dirty of it. Even at night, the city was alive and full of vigor, full of young people like you who were chasing cheap thrills. Jaehyun was a dream under the glowing lights, and you almost couldn’t believe that the prince-like boy was head-over-heels for you.

He took you to a wide alley with a night market, full of life and energy. Jaehyun was walking through the crowd and you were following right behind him, like some awkward fish swimming after a cuter, more popular fish upstream. There were several times where you almost lost yourself in the crowd, and Jaehyun noticed this. He reached behind him, still shouldering his way through the crowd, and grabbed your hand. The smell of spicy rice cakes, the numerous pop-up bars lining the alley, and Jeong Jaehyun gripping your hand—it all made a pretty eventful first date.

Jaehyun didn’t kiss you. Not once. He didn’t try to touch you anywhere that would have tempted you both into doing something you definitely shouldn’t do in public. There were times where Jaehyun turned pink or looked away from you shyly, and you indulged in it because this was a side of him you didn’t see often.

Jaehyun stopped at a convenience store before you both decided to head back. You waited outside for him, kicking stones as you thought of him. He was undeniably perfect, which you somewhat despised because you had spent the last two years hating his guts and this was an abrupt change. You were worried if he was buying you something; he had already bought you lamb skewers and rice cakes at the night market. You didn’t want to be the girlfriend to empty his wallet.

Wait—

Were you his girlfriend?

“Y/N,” he called when he walked out of the store, holding something behind his back with a sneaky grin. “Close your eyes.”

You bit back a smile and closed your eyes, holding your hands out. He placed the object in your hands and it felt light, so you were sure it shouldn’t have cost much. Although, your stomach was pitted with guilt at the thought of him spending money on you. You opened your eyes when he directed you to.

Plan B One-Step.

You no longer felt bad for him.

“Very romantic,” you observed, putting the packet in your wallet, “but thank you.”

You were seething. Your face grew unconditionally hot and you had to look down at your feet. It seriously pissed you off that your feelings were so clear right now because Jaehyun had bought you fucking Plan B.

Jaehyun seemed to notice right away and tilted your chin up with two fingers, chuckling. “Is something wrong?”

Your face screwed up when you decided on what you were going to ask him. “Are we dating?” you blurted out.

Jaehyun held your face gently like it would shatter if he applied any more pressure. His fingertips grazed the hinge of your jaw while his thumbs rested on your cheekbones. You were panicking when he leaned in, but it wasn’t what you expected. Jaehyun pressed a chaste kiss to your nose, grinning at your reaction. You reached up to trace his dimple with your finger.

“Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, flustered beyond imagination, but you had already gotten this far so you continued, “do you?”

“Do I want to be your girlfriend?”

You wanted to hit yourself. “Fuck. I mean, do you wanna date me?”

“Of course,” he said with a laugh. “I’ve been waiting for this for so long.”

He drew you into his warm embrace and you buried your face into his chest, wondering how you hated this man for so long. Of course, when those cocky smirks and impish looks came back, you were sure you’d remember again. But right now, in his arms, you just knew that you wanted to be with him. You looked up at him, arms slung around him, and got on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

You were positive you hadn’t ever seen Jeong Jaehyun blush before tonight, but it was a sight you were sure you could never get sick of.

And you never would.

[ladyylesbian]

communication trials part two

pairing: natasha romanoff x fem!reader

summary: r deals with the aftermath of breaking up with natasha and figuring out how to move forward with her choices

warnings: anxiety, panic attacks, angst to happy ending

word count: 1396

a/n: honestly not in love with this but i hope you like it

you do not have permission to translate/repost my works anywhere! all mistakes are mine and mine alone. likes, comments, and reblogs are always welcome & appreciated <3

GIF by whatelsecanwedonow

part one

“I think we should break up.”

It had been a few days since you muttered those words to Natasha. Instantly you regretted opening your mouth. Knowing that saying those words would cause all the trust you had spent months building with Natasha to break. You had gone out of your way to avoid her knowing that if you saw her face then everything you’ve worked on pushing down over the last few days would come out.

To make matters worse, tonight was the night of Tony’s party. A party nobody else knew was being thrown to celebrate your birthday. If it was up to you then nobody would know your birthday. There was nothing appealing left to celebrate. You were tired of crying on your birthday. You are tired of the disappointment and heartbreak that fills each one. This was all you could think of as you pulled out the first thing you saw from your closet.

As you were standing in front of the mirror and smoothing out the outfit you put on there was a soft knock at your door. Panic flowed through your body as you walked towards the bedroom door. Pausing for a moment to gather yourself you glanced down towards the floor taking a deep breath and saying a quick and quiet message to yourself under your breath, “you can do this”.

The last person you would have expected was waiting on the other side of the door.

“Nat? What are you doing here?”

“I thought you could use someone to walk down with” the redhead said uncharacteristically shyly.

You glance at her eyes then your gaze falls down to her held out hand. Your mind is racing with thoughts. Completely unsure if you should accept the comfort your now ex girlfriend is offering. The comfort you so badly missed and really needed in this moment. Your hand slowly went to take hold of her own hand before you suddenly remembered she isn’t your comfort anymore. You gave that up.

“I’m fine. I’ll be down in a second” a pained look came across your and the redheads face simultaneously.

Watching her hand fall back to her side was another punch to your gut. Turning around and closing the bedroom door you walk in front of the mirror yet again taking a moment to calm yourself from seeing Natasha again. She was just as beautiful and strong as she has always been. It was relieving to know that she was not breaking the same way you were. You could feel the tears starting to make their way into your eyes, so you look up and blink them away.

As you’re walking down the hallway towards the elevator you notice Natasha is still there. Your chest tightens a little as you make your way closer towards her. The button to call the elevator was already lit up so you decided to stare forward attempting to ignore the redhead. Thankfully it was mere seconds before there was a ding followed by the elevator doors opening.

The two of you were standing shoulder to shoulder until half way down Natasha turned to you. She had looked you up and down and silently begged you to acknowledge her presence. You made an audible sigh before mirroring her stance.

“Can I help you, Nat?” you spoke with a fake underlying tone of annoyance.

“I know what’s bothering you. Did you forget that I’m a trained spy? More important than that, did you forget that I love you? You could have talked to me!” the redhead said increasing in volume.

You couldn’t help but stare at her with your mouth open. The last thing you expected was for Natasha to actually find out what was going on with you for the past couple weeks. Your heart felt like it could have beaten out of your chest and part of you wished it had. The entire reasoning you had to break up with Natasha would crumble away if you had this conversation. You would have broken your own heart for no reason. Every ounce of pain and sadness would have been for nothing. Now you knew it was for nothing because Natasha knew, she knew everything. You open and close your mouth a few times trying to find the correct words to say back. Instead you only managed to say a few panicked words, “I- how- who told you? Tony?”

The redhead tried to stifle a laugh but failed causing you to frown. She noticed this and quickly went to grab ahold of your hands.

“You, my love, you told me. Your actions and your words. Ever since that briefing, I should have noticed faster. I should have talked to you. You had been screaming it for weeks and I couldn’t hear you. I am so sorry I wasn’t listening to you earlier” Natasha spoke with extreme softness and love in her voice as if you could have shattered simply from hearing her words.

Slowly you remove your hands from Natasha’s grasp and she thinks she’s blown any chance she had to get you back. As you place your hand onto her cheek looking deeper into her eyes than you ever had before you notice the surprised look on her face. For just a moment the pair of you are the only two people in the world, that elevator is the only place you want to be. Standing so close to each other you can feel her chest brush against your own with every inhale. Your desire to push your lips against hers becomes so overwhelming you can’t help but to start leaning in. Then you hear the ding and the sound of elevator doors opening announcing the arrival at the main floor.

“I’m so sorry Nat” you sputter out quickly, stepping backwards and rushing out of the elevator not bothering to look back at the woman you have left behind yet again.

The rest of the night consists of dodging almost anyone who wants to speak with you out of fear of anyone saying happy birthday to you or more importantly anyone overhearing someone else saying happy birthday to you. All your attempts at running for safety in the corners of the giant rooms are constantly getting squashed by a different avenger pulling you back to the center of the room where the music is so loud you can feel it under your feet.

Once you’ve been dancing for a while is when over the speakers you hear Tony starting to make an announcement, “Thank you for coming everyone! I am not sure if many people know the true reason for this party but it’s for someone who’s very special and incredibly important to me.” You feel your heart is starting to race, your hands starting to feel clammy, your head is starting to spin, and you’re shifting your weight between your feet. All you want is for the floor to swallow you whole. Anything to get you out of this situation that makes you feel so vulnerable.

Only when you feel your feet starting to trip over each other do you realize there’s a soft hand holding onto your arm dragging you away from the center of the room towards the back door. Forcing yourself out of the mental fog you look up to see the same red hair that has saved you many times before.

The moment she’s dragged you through the door your back is against the wall. After taking a few seconds to calm yourself down from your previously fast approaching panic attack you try and find those green eyes that make you feel the safest in the world.

“Are you okay?” Natasha asks, finally meeting your gaze. The tears in your eyes causing her to feel stupid over asking a ridiculous question. Still she waits for your reply. Hoping to hear anything other than the slightly muffled speech Tony is making. Your body shrinks slightly before you decide to stop running. Your quick glance down to Natasha’s lips doesn’t go unnoticed by the redhead. She makes a sharp inhale before giving you a small nod, that’s all it took for you to lean in again for the second time that night. Right as your lips reach her lips you hear, “everyone please wish Y/N a happy birthday!” and you deepen the kiss.

[dr3amofagame]

as of yet unnamed ghost!dream au

here’s some of a ghost!dream au that i’ve been working on for the last few days!! it’s been Fun - definitely one of my favorite current aus, along w/ vegas team 2.0 and others. it’s a really ,, bittersweet c!sam + c!dream centric au that’s equal parts fluffy and messed up, and my goal is to (somehow) wrangle this mess into some sort of happy ending 

anyway, i hope you all enjoy!! definitely look out for more of this in the future, and a future name change when i get around to thinking of one that Fits lmao 

tw: blood, violence, implied torture, abuse, description of dead bodies, unhealthy relationships, emotional distress, unhealthy coping mechanisms, grief, death, dehumanization

Sam woke up to fifty pounds of fur smacking him in the face.

He startled, stumbled to awareness as he struggled to breathe from the newfound weight on his chest. It took a few moments for his vision to clear up enough to see what was right in front of him, but his lips quirked up in a small smile as Fran sat, self-satisfied, with her paws pressed against his collarbones, looking for all the world like she was priding herself in her win.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up." He ran a hand through the fur on her head, got a bark in return. The smile dropped, however, when his brain - still foggy with sleep - began to drag itself into awareness, bringing with it a whole slew of unpleasant memories that largely made him want to crawl back under the covers for another week, please.

Fran barked again, headbutted him insistently, and he pushed away the thoughts with a bleary shake of his head. As much as he wanted to avoid his responsibilities, experience had taught him otherwise, and what was he without his duty, now?

He was halfway through the process of putting on his armor when he realized, hands falling from the straps they had been readjusting, lips pulled into a thin line.

Oh.

Right.

Fran barked again, probably noticing his hesitance, making a point of ramming her head into the backs of his legs again when he stood still for a little too long. Sam stared at his hands for a moment, then another, before going to undo the fastenings of his netherite chestplate and hang it back up on the stand.

He wouldn’t be needing those for a while, would he?

“Hey girl.” He kneeled down to scratch Fran by the ears, smiling softly when she closed her eyes in satisfaction. He usually didn’t have any time to spend with her, not with him needing to check on the prisoner in the morning to make sure he would be ready for Quackity’s visits at noon and his afternoons usually filled with his work at Las Nevadas and on his own bank and keeping the prisoner alive-

Sam breathed out a little too harshly, reaching for the Warden’s communicator he kept tucked in his chest pocket. The same words stared at him in the morning light, clear and damning.

Dream was slain by Quackity using [Warden’s Will].

It had been an accident, in the end. He hadn’t been listening well enough, Quackity’s shouts blending with Dream’s ragged screams making up the same painful two-note song that filled most of his days, when the cell - steadily growing in sound for the past hour, as Quackity (inevitably) became more desperate and the prisoner (inevitably) forwent any attempts at holding back his pain - suddenly went silent.

The quiet itself was enough to raise his hackles, have him reaching for a pearl as he clicked open his communicator; the quiet “Sam?” from Quackity only made them rise more.

By the time he reached the other side, his communicator was already buzzing with the notification he’d known would appear, in the end, and Dream was lying still with a sword shoved through his chest.

---

Sam hadn’t really reacted, when he first realized. He set upon the task of cleaning up the aftermath much the same way as he approached everything nowadays, quick, efficient, and methodical. He sent Quackity away to wash off the worst of the blood, not bothering to follow him across the lava; it’s not like there was any prisoner that could take advantage of the loosened security, anymore. With the winged man gone, he resigned himself to the job of dealing with the remains of the prisoner.

In the heat of the lava, the body hadn’t even cooled yet, the blood flowing from it- him- whatever, still warm to the touch. Sam eased off the cracked remains of the mask, heart momentarily seizing at the sight of the face underneath it; gaunt, pale, and stretched in memories of pain that it could no longer feel, it- he looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were still blown open in fright, bright green eyes long-dulled, a smattering of freckles over the bridge of his nose and cheekbones thrown in sharp relief from the paleness of his skin. Even with the scars on every visible inch of skin, he looked- young, like a scared kid, expression tortured even in death, and Sam could feel echoes of horror beating against his skull like a heartbeat. With a slightly shaking hand, he closed Dream’s eyes - the man was dead. It was the least he could do.

He must’ve spent a solid few minutes carefully bandaging each cut and gash, still sluggishly weeping blood - not that it meant anything, with him dead, but it felt - necessary, to at least give him this much dignity after death. He was covered in blood, some of it fresh, most of it not, but after wiping away the worst of it from his skin (his hair and clothes had been a lost cause for a long time), he almost looked- human. It wasn’t a perfect image; he was far, far too still to be anything like the Dream that Sam remembered, and there were more bandages than exposed skin, at this point, skin paper-white against the black of the obsidian floor and the air still thick with the smell of blood, but if he squinted a little he could almost imagine that Dream was only sleeping. That nothing had happened.

Nothing had happened.

Or at least- nobody could know what did happen. Not with Dream’s death meaning that the information of the revival book was lost forever, not when his death would open up a whole can of worms that both he and Quackity would be better off not having to deal with for the rest of time, thank you very much. Keeping it all a secret wouldn’t be that hard, all things considered; he could turn away visitors with the excuse of preventing something like Tommy’s death from happening again, and it’s not like anyone was particularly preoccupied with thinking about the conditions of the prisoner. He and Quackity would have to think of a better excuse in the future, but now wasn’t the time. All he had to do was get Dream’s body out of Pandora and away from people’s prying eyes; everything else could come after.

Picking up Dream took less effort than he expected; even though the man was a dead weight, he hardly seemed to weigh anything in Sam’s arms. Making their way out of the prison was much harder, but with a few well-placed enderpearls and the abuse of quite a few guard mechanisms, they were out under the night sky. It was a clear night: the moon nearly full, the stars bright and twinkling; it was the kind of night that Dream loved, once.

He bit back the thought as soon as it came. Dream was dead and those days were gone. There wasn’t any point of thinking about them, now.

He ended up carrying the man to a patch of forest against the beaches behind the prison, burying him without much fanfare and pulling out a piece of cobble to serve as a shoddy headstone. It was a small and lonely grave in the middle of a woods that no one ever visited, the cobblestone dull and easy to miss. Only Sam would know where it was.

He told himself that he didn’t care as he left, tridenting across the bay towards the community portal so he could finally go home and rest. It didn’t matter; hardly anyone had bothered visiting the man when he was alive. What would change with him dead?

Distantly, thunder rumbled.

---

It was strange, to have nowhere to go, reminded him of the early days when it was just him and Fran exploring and hollowing out the mountain for his base one block of stone at a time. He figured that it was about time that he and Fran went on a proper walk, anyway, and so after a light breakfast they were off - Fran running in front in leaps and bounds, tail a blur as she greeted every tree and rock by the house with the eager overfamiliarity that only a dog could have, Sam staying back and whistling whenever she came a little too close to harassing a fox or chicken or whatever mobs were out in the early morning. Every once in a while, she would run back, shoving her face into his hands as if to check in and say hello, and he would give her a couple assuring pats before she rocketed away again.

He definitely should’ve been doing this more often; a small rock of guilt settled in his gut at the sight of Fran’s clear exhilaration at being outside of the same four walls. Her room was as nice as he could make it - food and water kept in abundance, an assortment of toys scattered all over the floor, her bed covered in a collection of blankets she had claimed for her own - but with everything going on, he really hadn’t had the time to bring her on long walks and play with her as he should have. She looked happier than she’d been in months.

He looked up; Fran was in the process of running back towards him, again, and he opened his arms in anticipation of a flying ball of fur smacking him in the chest once more, when she froze. Paws digging into the grass, her head cocked to the side as her ears swiveled, pointed up and alert at some sound that Sam couldn’t hear. Her muscles tensed, and he stepped closer, hand reaching forward-

“Fran, don’t-”

Fran darted off into the forest, a white streak disappearing in the underbrush, and Sam muffled a yell as he moved to chase her. Her sprint sent fallen leaves flying up into the air, a trail of dust and destruction following her as she dashed deeper into the trees.

“Fran, get back here, what are you doing, stop running!”

Completely ignoring him, Fran continued to run ahead, turning suddenly to the right and sending Sam scrambling in an attempt to follow. Ducking out of sight past a collection of thickets into what appears to be a sunlit grove in the middle of the forest, she gave a sudden, triumphant-sounding bark.

“Fran, you really can’t be running off like this, girl, I don’t even know where we are-”

He froze.

Fran, bright white in the sunlight, was wagging her tail as she panted, tongue lolling out of her mouth, muzzle seemingly split in a wide grin. Her dark eyes looked up at Sam, bright and intelligent, and she barked again when he looked at her as if to ask him if he was proud of her discovery.

Just behind Fran, translucent in the light, stood a figure. They were short - only coming up to Sam’s waist, if that, and wore an oversized light-green hoodie that reached halfway down their hands and khaki shorts. Their hair seemed windswept, blown around by some nonexistent breeze, defying gravity as it floated in a messy halo around their head; they turned towards him, freckled cheeks immediately breaking out in a blinding smile.

“Sam!”

He watched, numbly, as the kid stumbled forward, tripping on nothing as they crashed into him, arms immediately going to wrap around his legs tightly. They looked up, shoulders shaking with small giggles, mouth open to show a gap-toothed grin - one that was far, far too familiar.

“Dream?”

“Hiya Sam! Didja miss me?” Dream giggled again, still looking up at Sam, and he felt something dark and cold, almost like guilt, rising in his throat as he met his gaze.

Dream’s eyes were pitch black.

[thefallennightmare]

Vas Prizrak-Seventeen

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader. Slight Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 1632

Warnings: swearing, some smut if I’m feeling frisky, tiny bits of fluff, and a whole lot of angst.

Summary:  Bucky and Reader’s life in Wakanda had been everything they ever wanted. But when they are told about the fight that was on it’s way to them, they fear that life would be dusted away for good.

A/N: There are only a few chapters left! I have also decided that the trilogy(Soldat, Dorogaya, and Vas Prizrak) will only be a trilogy! Once this series is finished, it’s done for these characters!  

TAGS: @mggpleasedontlookhere @grey-force-jedi @austynparksandpizza @lovelyladymayyy​

A loud gasp escaped my throat as I sat up with a start, smacking whoever was in front of me. The last thing I had remembered was falling out of the sky. 

“Hey, take it easy doll. It’s me.” 

After a few deep breaths, I relaxed when I saw Bucky’s concerned eyes looking at me. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. 

I nodded and let him help me to my feet. “How am I alive?” 

Bucky motioned towards Sam and I gave him a quick nod of thanks. 

“What did I miss?” I questioned. 

Suddenly hearing loud screams, all of our attention fell onto Thanos, who was fighting Tony for the gauntlet. My eyes watched with horror, almost as if I was having a Deja vu moments, watching Thanos prepare his fingers for the dreaded snap. 

“I am inevitable,” He smirked. 

When he snapped, however, nothing happened. No one around us had dusted away like last time. Bucky and Sam were both in their spots beside me. 

“No,” I breathed when I realized why the snap didn’t work. 

Tony held up in hand, all six infinity stones shining bright. “I am Iron Man.” 

With Tony’s snap, Thanos’ army started disappearing around us, dusting with the wind. Everyone watched in confusion until they realized that Tony had worn the gauntlet, snapping away our enemies. 

Steve had joined us now and I could see the weight lift from his shoulders, knowing that we had won. However, I don’t think we all knew what it cost; or who. 

“Stevie,” I pulled on his hand so he could see what I saw. 

Tony laid against a rock, taking his final breaths. The snap had been too much for him, his body not being able to handle it. 

Tears fell from Steve’s eyes and I gave his hand a squeeze, letting him know that we all felt what he was feeling. 

Sadness, grief, despair, and a gut wrenching loss. 

We all loved Tony, he had been the one that brought the Avengers together all those years ago, and he knew in the end that someone needed to make the sacrifice call. 

“What do we do now?” Sam questioned when everything had settled. 

I looked between the three men and let out a very shaky, uncertain breath. “I don’t know.” 

A heavy boot shut the door behind us, Bucky locking it while I sat down on the large bed with a deep groan. 

“Are you alright?” He wondered, kneeling in front of me. 

I started to nod but knew that it was a lie, everything post fight started to settle in on the way over to the hotel. No one could enjoy the victory or having their loved ones back, now knowing what it had cost. We had lost too many good people for this mission. Even though Tony and I hadn’t been close, it still broke my heart to see him take his final breath in front of all of us. 

We were also confused, the majority of us having nowhere to go, nowhere to turn. Our prior home had burned to the ground along with all of our belongings. 

Well, not everything. 

Steve thought it would be best for us to stay at a hotel for the night to recoup and prepare for tomorrow; Tony’s funeral and returning the stones. I wanted to give everyone more time to heal but knew the longer we waited for returning the stones, the worse effect it would have on our future. 

Sam and Steve were in the room across the hall from us, knowing that they needed to give Bucky and I some alone time. We had a lot to catch up on. 

“Hey,” Bucky lifted my chin with a gentle finger. “It’s okay.” 

I shook my head in his hand, tears starting to spill. “They didn’t deserve this ending, Buck. Tony and Nat should both be here. It’s not fair.” 

On the way to the hotel, Steve and I filled in Sam and Bucky on all of the important things they had missed the last five years. They were shocked to learn how long they had been gone for while Steve and I were shocked to hear that even though it was five years for us, it only felt like five minutes for them. 

“I know, doll,” Bucky hushed my cries with a kiss to the side of my forehead. 

Alongside the scar from the aftermath of me trying to kill myself the other night. So much had happened that it seemed so long ago.

“I have so much to tell you,” I sighed. 

Bucky nodded. “First, let’s get you cleaned up.” 

I agreed with an obnoxious groan of pleasure at the mere mention of a shower. Bucky slowly led me towards the bathroom and I hesitated once we crossed the threshold. 

“I know you’re probably expecting sex but my body is exhausted,” I fought. 

“Doll, all I want is to have your body next to mine. Sex can wait,” he admitted. 

Truthfully, I wanted to tell Bucky about Steve and I before we had sex. He deserved to know the truth; about everything. 

Cool vibranium fingers traced the patterns down my left arm and over the star on my shoulder. Bucky’s breath warmed my bare shoulders as I laid in front of him, enjoying his touch. 

“I still can’t believe you got this tattooed,” he breathed against my neck. 

His lips left small kisses, causing shivers throughout my body. 

“It was a dark point in my life, Buck. We thought that we weren’t getting anyone back so I went on a murdering spree, killing Hydra members.” I admitted. 

Bucky rolled me onto my back and propped himself up on one hand, eyes looking down at me. His familiar scent had engulfed my nostrils, him lathering himself in my favorite body was; teakwood and mint. 

Our shower had been anything but sexy. The dirt and blood that we washed off ourselves stained the shower floor, turning the water black the instant we stepped inside. Bucky had washed my hair with a loving scalp massage and went on and on about how he couldn’t believe my hair turned to literal fire tonight. 

“I studied my powers, getting stronger”. I had informed him with a shrug as if it was no big deal. 

After our shower and after we had washed one another, I sat in front of him on the bed while Bucky braided my hair back. The small intimate moments between us had returned, almost as if he had never left. 

“Doll?” 

Thinking back to the present, I looked up at Bucky with a small smile. “What?” 

He let out a deep chuckle. “I asked if you wanted to get some sleep.”

The blueness of his eyes had made my heart skip a beat and jump into my throat. He looked at me with so much love and adoration which made the guilt eat away at me once more. I couldn’t hold it in any longer, Bucky needed to know the truth. 

“Actually, we really need to talk,” I stated while sitting up in bed. 

I wrapped the sheet around my naked body tighter. We still hadn’t had sex but wanted to feel each others skin on one another, which proved to be hard for him. His dick continued to press up against the back of my thigh. 

Bucky nodded with a sigh and sat in front of me. “About you and Steve?” 

I looked at him dumbfounded. He had found out?

“How did you?” I asked. 

“I was gone for five years, Y/N. I didn’t expect you to wait around for me and with the history between the two of you, it was bound to happen,” Bucky shrugged as if it hadn’t bothered him.

It hadn’t. 

I was expecting to feel jealousy, anger, or rage coming from him but all I felt was acceptance. 

“You’re not mad at me? You don’t want to punch a wall or storm out while calling me a slut?” I asked, shocked. 

“God, no!” Bucky shook his head. “Is that what people do?”

“Typically yes, when they found out their girlfriend cheated on them,” I replied while messing with my hands. 

He cupped them with his own to stop the nerves. 

“You thought I wasn’t coming back, doll. I won’t hold that against you. Can you just promise it won’t happen again?” He asked with pleading eyes. 

Immediately I shook my head while cupping his face. “Never.” 

We shared a passionate kiss, short but sweet, and when Bucky pulled away, he motioned to the bed. 

“Anything else you want to talk about or can we get some sleep?” He questioned. 

There was one more thing I had wanted to talk to him about but decided it would be better to surprise him with it so I shook my head. 

“I’m definitely ready for some sleep.” 

A very unattractive yawn slipped through my lips at the mention of sleep and Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“I’ve missed you doll but I sure as hell didn’t miss you stealing all the blankets.” 

I gasped at his confession while he pulled me into his chest, wrapping the blanket around us in our own private cocoon. 

“I do not steal the blanket, Mr. Snores so loud I want to smother him with a pillow!” I semi yelled. 

Bucky placed another kiss upon my lips. “I love you, Y/N. Sweet dreams.” 

Sniggling closer into his bare chest, I smiled into his warm skin. “I love you too, Buck.” 

That night was the first night in a very long time that I didn’t dream of dancing with his ghost. He finally was back where he belonged; in my arms.

[gffa]

Hello there I read a post of your and you mentioned the star wars comics Can you please suggest some good ones to read about the prequels or the original trilogy era? I would be most grateful

Hi!  BOY, I CAN I.  :D PREQUELS COMICS: - Obi-Wan & Anakin by Charles Soule.  This is probably my favorite prequels comic, for both iddy reasons (the art is gorgeous, there are some joyfully extra Jedi shenanigans, Obi-Wan & Anakin’s relationship is darling, etc.), but also because it’s really, really good when you read the whole thing and look at what it’s saying about the plot, the Jedi and their view of their relationship with the Republic, their relationship with Anakin and his relationship with them, and why everyone views things the way they do, right down to Palpatine poisoning everything for everyone. - Age of Republic by Jody Houser.  This is a series of oneshots (don’t let the numbers fool you) for various hero and villain characters and all of them are really good.  My favorite is the Obi-Wan one (obviously) because it’s so good at exploring his relationship with Anakin, but the Padme and Anakin and Maul ones all have really excellent character moments as well. - Star Wars Adventures by various authors.  I enjoy pretty much all of the Adventures comics, no matter what era they’re in!  I don’t remember specifically which numbers the prequels ones are--there aren’t very many, but I’m recommending the whole run because there’s a lot of OT comics in there as well and the ST comics are really, really cute ones.  They’re light-hearted but have some great worldbuilding bits and have some amazing Padme moments especially.  (SWA #12-13 have the Anakin/Padme date episode that’s hilarious + the 2019 Annual has an amazing story about Breha telling baby Leia about her friend Queen Padme Amidala.)  There’s also a story about Mace helping a young Twi’lek girl somewhere in that run that’s WONDERFUL. - Clone Wars Battle Tales by Michael Moreci.  It’s a kids’ series (part of the Adventures line) but it has so many great moments for both the clones and the Jedi.  Both hilarious and with some touching moments (oh my god, Plo & Wolffe’s interactions got me right in the feelings and Obi-Wan is my fave forever, as always) and it’s a nicely done 5 issue mini-series. - Jedi of the Republic - Mace Windu by Matt Owens.  Don’t let the art put you off (it is an acquired taste, if that) because the story itself is really worth digging into, a great look at Mace and the Jedi and their struggle with their role in being warriors in the Clone Wars, as well as their capacity for compassion and care when someone is deeply unfair to the people around them.  It’s an excellent Mace story but also has Kit Fisto being amazing in it, so it’s also worth reading for that. - Darth Vader: Dark Lord of the Sith vol. 2 by Charles Soule.  Set in the immediate aftermath of Revenge of the Sith, this is a phenomenal look at Anakin Skywalker and Darth Vader and how they are absolutely the same person.  The bigger arc of this story illustrates all these various Jedi that Anakin meets, showing him paths he could have taken instead of the one he did--he could have went on sabbatical, he could have left the Jedi for a family, he could have found other paths, he could have helped even while falling to the dark side--and he rejects every single one of them because he refuses to believe there were any other options than the one he has.  Add in some incredible worldbuilding and this is the comic for understanding Darth Vader, for me. - Kanan: The Last Padawan by Greg Weisman.  Another must-read, for the stunningly gorgeous art, for the amazing cuteness of baby Jedi, for the incredibleness of everything of Depa Billaba, and for the heartbreak of watching Caleb Dume become Kanan Jarrus after the Jedi Purge.  The worldbuliding is amazing (the look at the Jedi is so satisfying!) and the deeper understanding of Kanan’s origins and heartbreak at watching how much he suffered through all of that, it’s just gorgeously done. ORIGINAL COMICS: - Darth Vader vol. 1 by Kieron Gillen.  It’s best to read this concurrently with the Star Wars ongoing (from 2015 by Jason Aaron) because the first 6+ issues overlap with each other, but after that, read in whatever order you like.  This series is amazing and I would probably say, if you’re going to read one Darth Vader comic, it should be this one (even though the Soule one is my favorite), because Gillen really nails that balance of keeping him something of a mystical figure while also exploring the character.  There are so many absolutely iconic moments from this run that are Must Reads. - Darth Vader vol. 3 by Greg Pak.  While I almost put this in the prequels second, because while it’s set between ANH and ESB there are a lot of flashbacks and aftermath of prequels era stuff.  It’s less than 10 issues into its run yet, but every issue has been grabbing me by the throat and really giving us another entire comic full of gut-punches about what a shit lord Anakin Skywalker chose to be while also breaking our hearts for him. - Star Wars vol. 1 by Jason Aaron.  While the main series has been rebooted and is now being written by Charles Soule, the Jason Aaron one is absolutely worth reading, it’s centered around the time just post-ANH, where Luke and Leia and Han are having adventures and it does the brilliant job of exploring the characters in meaningful ways while working around the framework of the original movies and adding onto them to make them even better, imo.  Plus, there are some Obi-Wan issues in there that are absolute heartbreakers. - Star Wars vol. 2 by Charles Soule.  We’re only on the second arc at this point, but the first arc with Luke recently wrapped up and it was really amazing, Soule is really good at drawing connections between the character arcs of both the PT and the OT,  ones that may not always occur to me on the first read, but once I go back, it really feels it’s deliberate.  Luke struggling with the dark side in the aftermath of ESB and the revelations there and how he deals with it?  Incredible. - As mentioned above, the Star Wars Adventures comics have a lot of OT ones (anything with Leia tends to be my favorite) and they might be aimed at a younger audience, but they are often gorgeously drawn and have either really iconic moments or are just really feel-good reads. - Shattered Empire is a four-issue mini-series that’s basically the aftermath of ROTJ and setting up a lot of stuff that’ll happen in the years between the OT and the ST.  The art is absolutely stunning, you will fall in love with Poe Dameron’s mother, and there’s some great nods to what the original trio was up to.  It’s great for connective tissue, but also I just genuinely enjoyed it for itself. HONORABLE MENTIONS: - It’s been awhile since I read either of the Maul comics (the one by Cullen Bunn I remember really enjoying, and I haven’t read Son of Dathomir by Jeremy Barlow yet) but they’re worth picking up, if you’re enjoying SW comics. - The Adventures comics had a Tales from Vader’s Castle + Return to Vader’s Castle series released near Halloween for some cutely spooky stories that I really loved, if you like the Adventures comics.  There’s a hilarious one with Dracula!Dooku references as a nod to Christopher Lee’s portrayal of the character that absolutely delighted me. - If you enjoy her introduction in Darth Vader vol. 1, the Doctor Aphra comics are excellent reads as well. I also loved the Princess Leia mini-series by Mark Waid

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! pt. 2

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him nice and slow.” Marley calmly claimed as she continued to aggressively tap her foot.

“Mochi, stay still, I’m still putting pins in.” Asmo pouted in response while straightening out the cloth on Marley’s body.

Despite Asmo’s pleas, Marley continued to fume upon thinking of Lucifer and his snare. One moment she was folding laundry, the next she was standing in Asmo’s room for a fitting. Asmo hummed cheerfully as he pulled fabric and tucked in more pins. After a few moments, he finally finished as the frustrated sealskin wiggled out of the finished outfit.

“Alright, that one’s finished, time for the next one, Mochi~” Asmo chimed as he set aside the pinned-up clothing for tailoring.

The fifth born turned back to the annoyed Marley who crossed her arms in anger as her foot continued to tap rapidly against the floor. Asmodeus, taken by surprise, held his hand to his mouth to keep his fawning under control.

“What?” Marley asked in a pissed fashion.

“I didn’t realize you wear bloomers. I haven’t seen those in centuries~”

“Yeah, so what?” Marley asked as she pulled down her under blouse.

Asmo didn’t answer as he pulled Marley close into a tight embrace. Nuzzling his cheek against hers tenderly, Asmo sighed happily while Marley snorted sharply, trying to free her arms from his grasp.

“What’s with you, Asmo?!” Marley growled as her eyes squinted at the demon.

“I’m just so happy, Mochi...” Asmodeus quietly cooed.

Marley looked at the clinging demon and sighed tiredly. Instead of pushing him away, she held him close and rubbed his back gently.

“Since when did you all get so attached to me?” She asked fondly.

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

“Levi, will you stop your pacing, you’re going to wear out the marble.” Satan scolded.

Sadly, his plea fell on deaf ears as Levi continued while swiping away on his phone. He was too enthralled with the message boards and Devilgram, looking for any instance of mentions of Marley since her arrival. She may have been brought back by Lucifer but there always was someone who knew something they shouldn’t in Devildom.

“Alright, Lucifer, she’s all ready for her first day back to RAD!” Asmo chimed while leading Marley by the hand.

Marley stood in front of the brothers with her arms crossed and a tired expression on her face. Everyone stared at her clothing which barely resembled the school uniform.

“Asmo, you were supposed to make sure her uniform blended in, not stand out.” Satan claimed with a heavy sigh.

“I know but how could I not go all out~”

“Geez, how can you mess this up? Marley isn’t your dress-up doll, Asmo.” Levi grumbled lowly.

“That’s rich coming from someone who plays with dolls.” Asmo answered flatly.

Levi gasped harshly.

“How dare you, you know that they’re figurines!”

“Naw, if they were, you shouldn’t be able to take the underwear off.” Mammon blurted off snickering.

Marley sighed as the conversation seemed to swell in volume. She took a look around for a moment before addressing the brothers with a question.

“Where’s Beel?”

“Oh, he went to RAD early with-”

Before he could finish, Mammon cut Asmo’s answer with a sharp elbow in the side. They all went silent as they stared at the annoyed woman who raised an eyebrow.

“What?” She asked sharply.

The brothers just stumbled with their words, filling the foyer with random thoughts and observations until their eldest brought attention to himself.

“Enough all of you, it doesn’t matter what she’s wearing since she’s going to RAD as a seal.” Lucifer informed as he redirected the conversation.

Marley squinted her eyes in annoyance at the eldest demon brother.

“Seriously!? What the hell?!” Marley protested harshly which caused Lucifer to shake his head.

“No arguing, this isn’t up for debate. Now change.”

“Why should I!?”

“Because your Devilgram stunt has caused an uproar and unless you want to deal with the aftermath, get changed. Now.”

“Couldn’t be that bad.” Marley mumbled while looking away.

“What was that, I couldn’t hear you.”

Marley growled underneath her breath as she pulled out her pelt from her uniform. The brothers’ eyes grew wide as they stared at the black and white sealskin she draped over her shoulders.

“Marley, wasn’t your pelt grey with rings on it?” Levi pointed out.

“It was, now it’s black and white.” Marley answered flatly with a snort.

“But how? Why?”

Marley just ignored the questioning and wrapped herself in the fur.

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

“Mochi, stop growling, we’re in the library.” Satan whispered as he turned a page in his book.

Mochi just flopped on her side and huffed heavily. Since she arrived at RAD, she had been sliding around on her belly with a multitude of demons poking and prodding her. Normally, she wouldn’t care but it didn’t help when they started asking if she was different from the seal before. Sure her pelt was a different color but she still was herself or that’s what she would tell herself. She lifted her head, looked back at her black glossy coat, and sighed as she slid from underneath the table. Satan looked up from his book to see her shuffling toward the library’s entrance. In a smooth motion, he rose from his seat and stood in front of Mochi with a curious expression.

“Marley, where are you going?” Satan whispered to her as he crouched down to her level.

She snorted in response before patting her side in a particular rhythm that echoed along the library’s walls. Seeing other students peering from the aisles of books, Satan attempted to shush the noisy seal only for her slapping to increase in tempo. With a sigh, he motioned for her to follow him to a private study room where she could change in private.

“Alright, what’s the problem, Marley?” Satan asked as he locked the door.

“I just want to go for a walk by myself, Satan. On my own two feet instead of sliding on my belly.”

“Sorry but it’s for your good unless you want to be bombarded by demons.”

Marley snorted as she folded her arms in protest.

“Please, what’s the worst that can happen? I end up dying again?”

“...So you were dying back then.”

Marley snapped back to the blonde demon who turned his gaze away from her. She bit her bottom lip and cursed herself since she forgot that she was more or less lying about her condition. A swirl of guilt formed in the lower part of her gut as looked at Satan with remorseful eyes.

“Hey, don’t think too much about it. It’s done and over with.” She claimed jokingly as if to quell his suspicion.

“It’s not done, Marley. You left so suddenly and we didn’t get a chance to talk to you about...well...”

Marley paused for a moment and released a tired sigh before patting Satan on his arm.

“Hey, baby steps, no point in worrying about something I don’t want to talk about yet. All you need to know is that I’m alright now.” She claimed cheerfully.

Satan blinked before giving her an understanding smile. He gently placed his hand over hers and let their eyes meet.

“Thank you Marley. But you still can’t go wandering off.”

“...You’re killing me, Blondie.”

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

Luke sighed as he made his way through the hall, dodging rushing demons who carelessly lost track of the time. He wondered what was getting everyone so riled up when school started. For the past month, everyone around him has been acting weird from some Devilgram post. He searched for it but he couldn’t find any trace of it after the app crashed. After which he asked Solomon about the picture that everyone else saw but he refused to tell him regardless if Simeon was there or not. And all that Simeon told him was that Marley was alright and she was taking some time off to go back home.

“It’s not fair...” He pouted to himself.

He was the last one to know about Marley and he didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye. Shaking his head free of distracting thoughts, he hurried down the hall to meet up with Simeon for their next class. However, in his rush, he tripped over a sudden black figure which kept him hitting the hard floor. He groaned before taking a look at the seal he fell upon.

“S-Sorry!” He apologized as he pushed himself off the warm creature.

On his knees, Luke took a moment to think before addressing the seal.

“You’re Mochi, right? The same Mochi from before?” He asked hopefully.

He received his answer as Mochi picked up his fallen hat with her mouth and gave a sweet whistle at the young angel. Luke’s eyes grew wide as he found himself hugging the seal tightly in an expression of his joy.

“Mochi, it is you! You’re all better now!” He squealed as Mochi sighed and placed a flipper on the angel’s back while putting his hat back on his head.

“That’s the same seal from before. See, I told you guys!”

Luke jumped a bit as he looked up to see a trio of demons looking down at him and Mochi. He pulled himself up to his feet as Mochi sighed and snorted in response. However, the demons continued to stare at the unimpressed animal and talk as if the little angel wasn’t present.

“Look at it, it’s the same as the one that woman had on Devilgram.” One pointed out.

“Yeah, my girlfriend’s been beggin’ me for a fur-like that since Lord Diavolo posted that pic.” The second claimed as he inched closer.

“Oi, you already have a girl, so I get first dibs! I’m gonna get a lot of likes with this thing’s coat.” The third protested as he approached the unamused seal.

Luke, without thinking, stepped between Mochi and the advancing demon who towered over him.

“Buzz off, kid. You’re in the way.” The demonic student sneered.

“I’m not gonna let you take her fur! So leave her alone!” Luke yelped out while standing his ground.

“Listen, kid, it’s obvious that thing is just here as a joke since its fur is a stupid Devilgram fad.”

“If it’s so dumb, why do you want!?” Luke retorted.

“I ain’t gonna explain myself to a brat, especially an angel brat, now move!”

In a flash, the frustrated demon grabbed Luke roughly by his shirt and tossed him aside on the ground with a hard thud.

“Dude, what are you doin’? That kid’s an exchange student!”

“Shut up, he ain’t hurt, if he can’t handle getting knocked over, then he shouldn’t be messin’ with demons. So help-”

The arrogant demon didn’t finish his thought as he collapsed to the ground with a scream of agony. His friends backed away in shock as they watched Marley bite down harder on his leg which leaked crimson drops on the floor.

“Don’t just stand there! Get this fucking thing off of me!” He cried out as he kicked at her with his free leg.

However, this only made her clamp on harder, threatening to snap the bones in his calf. Cold radiated from Mochi’s mouth as she growled out cold smoke while she stared daggers at the now shaken demon. Instinctively, the demon took his shaky hand and summoned a ball of fire that hovered in his palm. The crimson color flashed in Mochi’s eyes and fiery memories struck her to her core, leading her to release him from her mouth and back away from him trembling. Seeing this, the demon chuckled as he shakily got up onto his feet, wincing as he placed weight on the injured leg.

“So the dumb animal is afraid of a little fire, huh?” He mocked as he increased the size of the blaze.

Luke stared at the panicked seal that backed away further and barked shrilly at her assailant. In a blink, he lunged and gripped the demon’s injured leg tightly causing him to scream out in pain.

“Are you trying to get burned, brat!?” The demon cried out as the blaze in his hand grew further and he threatened to stomp out the little angel.

“Don’t you think animal abuse is low, even for a demon?”

The demonic students jumped upon hearing Belphie’s calm voice as he stepped out of the shadows of the hall. They took a step backward as the weakest of the demon brothers slowly walked toward them, stepping in front of the shaken selkie. Luke took the opportunity to scamper over to Mochi as the opposing demons stared down the avatar of Sloth.

“Seriously, picking on cute little animals makes all us demons look bad. Could you try and at least show some higher standard?”

The flame-bearing demon snarled as he showed his fangs.

“Who do you think you’re talking to!? Just because you served directly underneath Lord Diavolo doesn’t make you the boss of me, Angel!”

Belphie just held his chin with a lazy smile as he ignored the insult.

“Oh right, your father’s a duke, isn’t he? That just makes it even sadder.”

The student clenched his jaw as the fireball in his hand flared and flexed in size. Luke clung tight to Mochi whose barking turned silent as she stared at the talking demons. Belphie glanced at them through the corner of his eye before returning to the furious student.

“Either way, you and your friends should probably start running now.”

“Why should we, saint?”

“Because Beel prefers a moving target when he’s mad.”

The demon blinked in confusion only to fully grasp the situation when a large firm hand gripped his shoulder, nearly crushing the bone. The sound of his friends cowering only accompanied the sound of Beel’s slurping as he bent over and devoured the fireball from the student’s hand in one gulp. Regret began to fill the demon to his core as he shakily locked eyes with the imposing sixth-born who chewed his demonic flame as if it was thick cotton candy. Belphie chuckled darkly as Beel swallowed which made the demon jump in fear.

“So how is it, Beel?” Belphie asked his twin casually.

Beel’s grip tightened as his steeled gaze never left the cowering demon’s eyes.

“Not spicy and tastes bad, just like his attitude.” He claimed coldly.

Without another word, Beelzebub suddenly snatched the demon by his collar and dragged him away while grabbing his two friends on his way down the stairs. As the sound of their pleas dulled in the distance, Belphie looked back at Luke and Mochi for a moment before turning away.

“That was tiring, I’m going to go take a nap.” He yawned as he left the twosome in the hall.

[masterwords]

My Cup is Empty (Part One)

Notes: Part One of a two part re-imagining of the aftermath of Adrian Bale's bombing. (Season 1) This is only loosely based on explanations from the show, I just reinvented an entire timeline no big deal. If the CM writers can do it, so can I. (Title & lyrics from Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds "My Cup is Empty".)

Warnings: Anxiety, depression, PTSD

Word Count: 2161

Look, this cup of mine is empty!

Seems I've misplaced my desires

Seems I'm sweeping up the ashes

Of all my former fires

“Yours isn't the only team affected by Jason Gideon's mismanagement of the Adrian Bale negotiation, Agent Hotchner.”

Erin Strauss narrowed her eyes at Aaron as she sat across from him, hands folded neatly atop a case file on her desk. He counted his breaths, tried to ignore the rushing of the blood behind his ears, the way his heart thundered against his rib cage like a hammer. For a minute, he thought he'd forgotten how to breathe and his eyesight swam dangerously. It hadn't been Jason doing the negotiation, Aaron knew that and yet Jason had taken all of the blame, all of the finger pointing, he wouldn't let Aaron take the fall for bad advice or missed cues. Sure, Jason made the final call, he decided whether or not to listen to Aaron's advice, but at the end of the day, Aaron held himself responsible. When Jason turned off his ear piece, ignored Aaron's warnings not to trust Bale yet, he thought about going out there, pleading face to face with Jason. The only thing holding him back was honor, Jason had given him a direct order to stay back, stay out of sight, keep Spencer out of the way. JJ was dealing with the press at a safe distance, none of them would be hurt, and that was on him. Jason accepted the responsibility for the scene, the way it went down, his actions. He'd been yelling for Derek, he wanted Derek there but something in Aaron's gut told him no, told him to keep Derek away just a little longer. Jason had the bomb squad, he had SWAT, he didn't need Derek too. In the end, as he reasoned, the only good thing he had managed to accomplish that day was tying Derek up on the other side of town long enough that he hadn't wound up inside that building with the rest of them, disobeying direct orders to get him there. He closed his eyes, thought about the way Derek had stormed to the van he was standing behind, spitting fire and rage because he knew bombs and, more importantly, bombers and he should have been in there and not outside with the desk jockeys. Derek loved to throw around cop slang, and usually it made Aaron laugh, but not this time. He was hurt, he wanted to explain himself but there wasn't time. When the bomb went off and Derek was beside him, behind the doors of the van being showered in molten shrapnel and hot blasts of shattered glass, he no longer minded being called a desk jockey. They crouched back there, each attempting to shield the other from harm, hearts thundering and fear coursing through their veins. Moments, it was sheer moments that filled the space between Derek living and dying and he had no idea how to even talk to Derek about that. He could see the other man's resentment, his pain, every time he looked at him though. In that brief moment, picking glass out of their skin while they sat on the ground, the scene erupting into absolute chaos around them, unable to hear for the ringing in their ears, they stared at each other and Aaron pleaded silently for Derek's forgiveness, his understanding but all Derek knew was that there were people who had died and he should have been one of them.

“You'll make do with the three of you, for now. I'll try to lighten your out of town load but that's as much as I can offer. Might I remind you, this is what you wanted, Agent Hotchner – it may not look the way you imagined, but you'll soon find that reality often falls short of our expectations. This may be your only opportunity.”

Aaron blinked himself back to reality, forced his eyes to focus on Chief Strauss seated before him, tried to remember why it was he was sitting in her office. His head felt wrong, like he was on the verge of an anxiety attack but somehow different and unnerving. He hated different, wouldn't allow it. He didn't have time for his body's needs.

Help, he'd asked for help, for their caseload to be dispersed some, for them to be let off the hook for lectures, deadline extensions, anything to ease the burden they were feeling. His team had just experienced trauma, the shrapnel wounds on his arms from throwing them over his head during the blast hadn't even healed yet and they were drowning.

She was too hard on him, she knew it right away. Agent Reid was still training, realistically it was just Agents Hotchner and Morgan shouldering the load, but she couldn't worry about that, they weren't the only ones hurting. There was a crushing look of defeat that flashed through his eyes, she saw it, but as soon as it appeared it vanished and she watched the way the soft around the edges young Agent who always had a kind word for someone in need squared his shoulders and nodded, pursing his lips and she wondered, briefly, if she hadn't just ruined him. Destroyed every golden bit of youth still left, every smile – maybe she should have been a little more gentle with him. He hadn't wanted this, not this way, she knew that – he was still learning, Jason was still mentoring him and this was too soon but there were no other options, she was just as stuck as he was and it would do neither of them any good for her to sugar coat it. This was a sink or swim moment and she'd be damned if he was going to get by just treading water. He was going to swim. She opened her mouth to say something encouraging, to soften the blow, and she started to speak when he stood and excused himself quickly, averting his eyes. Somehow she knew that the man who entered her office and then man who left it were both moments and worlds apart and they may never see the former again. The thought filled her with immense regret.

She prayed that she was wrong.

Days turned into weeks. Aaron almost never made it home before midnight, a point of contention in his already unraveling marriage. There were moments, quick flashes, where he thought he might come home to find himself locked out, or all of his belongings strewn on the front lawn like a movie breakup scene. Except he was no John Cusack and he would not be able to flash a sweet smile and work his way back in, not a man like him. Haley was pregnant, she was angry, and he couldn't blame her – she was alone, utterly alone when she thought he'd be with her. Doctors appointments, ultrasounds, baby kicks, birthing classes, shopping, nursery decoration, maternity photos...he was missing it all buried beneath an unrelenting load at his desk, endless meetings, networking, conferences and trial prep. When he did come home at night he was beat, useless. She would have dinner for him and he couldn't seem to make himself eat more than a few bites, she would try to tell him about her day and he would try to listen but at a certain point he would retreat to his office and cry, sometimes go to bed without even being able to look her in the eye. This is what you wanted, Agent Hotchner. The words haunted him. In all aspects of his life, the things he'd wanted were crushing him. He'd wanted a promotion, but not like this. He'd wanted to be married, have a family, but not like this. None of it was ever supposed to be like this, and yet he wondered why he'd dared dream it would be any different. Why he thought he deserved better.

At work, he was faced with Derek's worsening attitude toward everyone and everything. He would come into Aaron's office, asking to talk, but just wind up lashing out, biting his head off over something seemingly small or insignificant. He would fly off the handle over something someone had said to him, police who didn't listen to his recommendations when he consulted with them, the order JJ put papers inside of the folders or the way Spencer got coffee rings on his papers sometimes. Even Garcia, who had always managed to make him smile, just found herself keeping her distance. Everything was setting him off and Aaron could see it for what it was, he knew the symptoms of PTSD as well as anyone, yet he ignored it because if he didn't...God, if he didn't, he'd lose Derek too. And he beat himself up over it, over sweeping it under the rug and hoping it would just disappear - he knew it was just going to get worse. Derek was a ticking time bomb, and Aaron's only hope was that when he exploded, he would take them both down because he couldn't be left without him.

“Aaron, you can't keep going on like this.” Haley's voice was soft, and though the lights in the bedroom were off and he was curled beneath the blankets, she knew he was awake. He made no move to respond. He remained silent, stifled his breathing in the hopes that she would go away, leave him alone. Instead she slipped into the blankets and pressed her swelling belly, brimming with life, against him. She draped one arm over him, startling him briefly with a cold hand slipping beneath his shirt and resting against his ribs.

“What else can I do?” he whispered, and she couldn't help it, she laughed. She didn't mean to.

“You could just leave. Go back to being a prosecutor, start your own practice like your dad did...you know you'd do just fine and we could have a good life. You don't owe them anything, and the way they're treating you...”

“They aren't treating me,” he began, sucking in a deep breath, stifling the venom lacing his thoughts. He couldn't finish his sentence without regret. She was baiting him, bringing up his father, and he wouldn't take it. He was barely in control of any aspect of his life but he would not let his father in, dictate the course of his life from the grave. “I'm not leaving my team.”

“Your team? You don't have a team anymore...they all left. Max, Dave, Gideon...all gone. It's just you and Morgan and that new kid. That isn't a team, it's a bunch of children playing cops and robbers.” She hadn't bothered biting back her venom, he thought, and wondered why he had. This argument had been just beneath the surface, a long time coming, but he was too exhausted to continue. Instead, he carefully pulled her hand out from beneath his shirt and slid out of the bed, making for the bathroom. He would shower and dress and go back to work because at least no one questioned his motives there - sanity, perhaps, but never his motives. No one would bother him at all at 11pm, except maybe security but by now they were used to his always being there. In Jason's absence, he'd become a staple, a gargoyle seated above the bullpen, peering out in the darkness, tired features set in stone.

“If you leave,” she called after him, but he turned briefly toward her, knitting his brow in a scowl. She thought he looked sweet, in his rumpled pajamas and his bed head, except for the look on his face. She felt guilty for picking a fight, wondered why she had, but pregnancy hormones were a helluva drug and she felt justified.

“Haley, you're going to do what you want whether I go or not. Don't bother with ultimatums, it's beneath you.”

Next Chapter ->

She glared at him, watched as he retreated to the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Inside she knew he was going to crash and burn, she would sit for a moment and listen to him as his body shut down, threw him into the hurricane winds of an anxiety attack, and her fingers twitched, aching to go soothe his hurt and make him feel better but instead she threw the covers back and stormed down to the kitchen, to have herself some ice cream and do some thinking.

If she couldn't have ice cream in the middle of the night, what even was the point. She knew he was right, she didn't need the ultimatums, and she wasn't ready to throw in the towel just yet. This was just a rough patch, they could weather it, but maybe she would take some time away, take a break and go visit her family and let Aaron circle the drain. She didn't need to watch her husband unravel.

[chuchiotaku]

[Preview] TBA 16: On Flamel, Quidditch and Noble Houses

The Holidays may be over, but the adventure is just getting started. Bullies, Quidditch, secret meetings, and red herrings, oh my! But wait, what’s this about noble houses?

Just to let you guys know I’m still alive and writing. :)

[Target Release Date: April]

But then the portrait hole opened, and in hopped Neville, panting and sweaty with his legs awkwardly bound together by the Leg Locker Curse. He tried to make his way to their group, but a missed hop caused him to fall flat to the floor.

Ron’s eyes widened. Right. This happened.

It took a second before the majority of the occupants of the Common Room burst into laughter, including Dean and Parvati. It made Ron’s gut queasy with disgust, especially when he saw the pained looks in Neville’s eyes.

“Neville!” Harry exclaimed, running over to the fallen boy while Hermione whipped out her wand to cast the counter curse.

“SHUT IT, ALL OF YOU!” Ron snarled. “Before I shove that curse right up your stupid arses!”

One of the Gryffindor older year’s smile dropped into a glare. “Who died and made you Merlin, Weasley?”

“He said shut it, Towler.” Lee growled. “And there’s nothing funny about this! Neville could barely move right!”

“Bit rich coming from you, Jordan,” said Towler coldly. “Pranks and shite are only funny if they’re coming from you or the Weasley twins, eh?”

“Why you—!”

“I’m OK.” Neville panted with a hand in the air. “I’m OK. Sorry for the trouble, but I’m OK.”

Dean, who now looked rightly mortified for his initial reaction, went to help Neville to the couch. At that, the crowd in the Common Room shrugged the whole event off as if it were nothing and went back to their own business.

“Sorry about that, mate.” Dean said apologetically.

“Sorry, Neville.” Parvati seconded weakly, looking just as guilty.

Neville smiled understandingly. “It’s OK. If the circumstances were different, I’d be laughing with you too.”

Harry frowned. “What happened, Nev?”

“Malfoy. Ran into him at the hall near the library. Wanted to practice that curse on me or something like that.”

“You should have gone to a teacher!” Hermione exclaimed..

“What good will that do?” Neville said sadly.  “Snape will make it my fault somehow, and then Malfoy will just get back at me! I don’t want to cause any more trouble!”

Ron exhaled noisily at that. He knew Neville still had confidence issues around this time, but he had hoped that by being included earlier, the boy would be better this time around.

“You ought to stand up to him, Neville!” Parvati said strongly. “Those bullies will just keep tormenting you until you do! You can’t let him keep getting away with doing this to you! Frust me, I’d know. Padma and I get it a lot because we’re not pure Brit.”

“Or pureblood.” Dean added. “But you’re a Gryffindor, Neville! And you’re worth more than ten of that snake!”

Lee frowned thoughtfully. “Shite, we all know the lions and the snakes have bad blood between them, but to think firsties would actually do this to one another…” He nodded. “I’ll have to bring this up to a few people sometime. Can’t have you lot worrying about getting hexed out of nowhere, can we?”

Harry fished out a Chocolate Frog pack from his pocket and handed it to Neville. “We have your back, Nev. Like what Dean said, you’re worth more than what Malfoy will ever be.”

“...Am I?”

“Sure you are!” Ron said confidently. “Malfoy and his dumb and dumber babysitters got nothing on you! One way or another, we’ll rub that onto their sorry mugs!”

Neville let out a watery laugh after a bite into his frog candy. “Thanks, mates.”

“Ouch! What the—?”

“Oh,sorry, Weasley, didn’t see you there.”

That familiar, annoyingly nasal voice had Ron forcing air through his pursed lips in an effort to keep calm. “Fancy seeing you here too, Malfoy.”

Beside him, Neville stiffened while he heard Hermione hiss in irritation. The red head ignored them all in favor of subtly glancing at the others in the stand with them. Aside from Crabbe and Goyle, he saw Nott, Zabini on the stand with them, as well as a number of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs, some of which he recognized.

Well shite, not a lion in sight, since we had to sit somewhere else to get a good vantage point. But why does Malfoy have to be here this time too? If I didn’t know better, I’d say he just followed us here to be a total prick. Ron shook his head. On second thought, knowing him, he definitely would. Shite, what I’d give to smash the ferret’s face in...no, Ron, stop! Change for the better, remember? You’re eighteen years old! You’re not supposed to let that idiot get a rise out of you!

“Wonder how long Potter’s going to stay on in his broom this time? Want to make a bet, Weasley?” Malfoy crooned haughtily. “Oh, that’s right, you probably don’t have even a single Knut to your name!”

“Hilarious, Malfoy, but I actually have a couple of Sickles on me right now.”

Ron did a mental cheer when he saw Malfoy do a double take at his deadpan answer. Since he was fairly certain that Harry would stay safe in this match, he wasn’t as high strung as he was in his first life, and was in a better mindset to verbally spar with this pathetically young version of their rival. Seeing that Ron was keeping Malfoy occupied, Hermione gently directed Neville to focus on keeping his eyes on the pitch. 

Snape had just blown the whistle to start the match, and at once, the players quickly dispersed, with Harry circling the pitch like a hawk in search of the Snitch. Hermione made a noise at the back of her throat, crossing her fingers while keeping her eyes on Harry, while Neville sucked in a breath and stayed rather still and stiff while gripping his wand.

“You know how I think they choose people for your Quidditch team, Weasley?” Malfoy tried again. “They pick people they feel sorry for. There’s Potter, who’s got no parents, then your brothers, who have no money. Maybe you should try for your team, Longbottom, having no brains and all.”

Neville’s blush was especially apparent with his face as pale as it is right now, but he managed to say clearly. “I’m worth more than ten of you, Malfoy.” It got a laugh out of the idiot and his airheaded bodyguards, but Neville didn’t say anything more.

Ron grit his teeth in a bid to reign his temper in, but bloody hell, even at eleven, Malfoy was brilliant at pushing someone’s buttons, even if he wasn’t any good at dealing with the aftermath because he was such a snivelling, spineless berk. 

There has to be a way to get him off my back without having to use our fists or getting detention. Come on, Weasley, think. 

What ever made Malfoy leave us alone whenever he’d try to pick a fight with us? Other than punching his stupid face in? A nice jinx? Like that one that’ll give him oversized buck teeth? Ron shook his head. No, Weasley, no ideas that are can get you detention! So what else? Other than getting hurt or jinxed, it’s usually because there’s a Professor around, wasn’t it? So an authority figure. But there’s no one around right now with enough authority or power to scare Malfoy... 

...Wait, power?

A wild idea suddenly occurred to Ron. Now that he thought about it, it made a lot of sense since it was something Malfoy took as much pride in as being a Slytherin. He wouldn’t have thought of it before, but after everything that happened, everything he had to learn this month…

And with the people around me, this could actually work. What do I have to lose at this point, anyway? At least I could say I tried to not go straight to giving Malfoy that black eye.

[ghostinthebau]

Super Fanfic Rec List -- Iron Dad Edition (because I just wanna share the love)

I’ve had such a blast reading fanfic of the IronDad and SpiderSon variety over the last 6 months or so, and I thought I’d just make a rec list of some of my favorite stories.  Most of them are angsty, with whump and hurt/comfort because that’s what I live for.  

This is in no particular order or in any way complete because there’s just way too many amazing fics/authors in the Iron Dad fandom, but it will still be hella long, so....here goes! 

First off, @yellowdistress:

What We Are series - Bio-dad Tony series that goes all the way through Infinity War.  Endgame AU.

Someday I’ll Make it Out of Here series - Adoption AU!  It’s so good.

The Missing 92 Days - A take on HYDRA Peter that destroyed me emotionally.

Reviving Peter Parker - This about killed me.  Peter actually died during his fight with Toomes and SHIELD brings him back a la the TAHITI project like they did with Phil Coulson.  

A Sailor Went to Sea - Gut-wrenching Endgame fix it.  

Double, Double

@losingmymindtonight:

Webcams and Webshooters series

I Never Lived ‘Til I Lived In Your Light series - !!! TISSUE WARNING !!! Peter dies, but there’s another one shot with a happier ending if you need it.

And You’ll Blow Us All Away - Adoption fic!  A lovely one at that.

5 Times Peter’s Mental Illness Made Him Stumble And The 1 Time He Refused To Falter - I really love a well-depicted take on mental illness, and losingmymindtonight delivered 100%.

If You Can’t Catch A Breath (You Can Take The Oxygen Straight Out Of My Own Chest)

Cyanide? In My Shawarma?

@justme--emily:

The Guardian - Adoption AU with a lovely Loki and Peter friendship!

Radioactive - Peter endures the after effects of the spider bite, and scares bio-dad Tony to death.  Lovely, lovely, lovely.

The Good Fight - Peter gets hurt at the airport in Germany instead of Rhodey.  

@iron--spider:

ever in your favor - Hunger Games AU and an epic work of art!  

Lazarus, come forth - The Endgame fix it before Endgame.  Peter will break your heart.

dear mr. fantasy

this isn’t a game - Highly underrated fic based off the PS4 Spider-Man game.  I’ve never even played the game, and I loved this story.

what if there is no tomorrow? - This story actually made me kinda like Justin Hammer, if you can believe it.  

blindness

@tempestaurora:

hydra’s not a home series - HYDRA Peter, and also bio-dad Tony and bio-mom Pepper!

i’ll find you in the drift - Pacific Rim AU, and I have never seen PR, but I adored this so much.

it’s okay, we’re okay [whumpvember 2018] series

@jolinarjackson:

Lights To Guide You Home series - Another adoption AU.  They are my weakness, and this is one of the best out there.  

... and when you can’t crawl ...

Damaged At Best (Like You’ve Already Figured Out)

@blondsak:

No Life But This

come morning light (you and I’ll be safe and sound)

Burying Grounds - Eeeek!  Tony has to choose between saving Peter or Pepper and it hurts.

hold on, hold on

Something the Soul Needs

@madasthesea:

turn back the clock (and I’ll try again in the morning)

when my body won’t hold me anymore (where will I go)

They have so many other lovely looking fics--including an adoption au series (which I, of course, love), but I just haven’t gotten around to reading them yet.  I’m pretty sure anything they write is golden.  :)

@signofuncertainty:

It’s Always the Little Things

I’m sure their other fic, The Third Option, is fantastic and I really, really wanna read it but I’m trying so hard to wait until it’s complete!  It’s really difficult to wait, though, tbh....I may give in soon.  

@upcamethesun:

Twelve Days Of Peter Parker - So cute and fluffy, and then it kills you at the end.

5 Times Peter Made Tony Laugh Out Loud

5 Times Tony Didn’t Need To Worry About Peter

5 Times Peter Pretended To Be Tougher Than He Was

@frostysunflowers:

Between how it is and how it should be - This story made me love a Peter and Bucky friendship.

@kitcat992:

Identity Theft - This was one of the very first Iron Dad fics I read, and it was a doozy.  Full of whump, medical accuracy, and hurt/comfort!  The author is posting a sequel now, too: Identity Crisis.  :D

For Pete’s Sake!

@camelot-queen:

Goner - A perfectly heartbreaking kidnapping fic, but heed the warnings!

Who Saves The Hero

Never Meet Your Heroes

i’m the satellite (and you’re the sky) - Tony is Peter’s bio-dad but Peter doesn’t know it.  I haven’t actually finished this yet, but it’s good.  So, so good.

@peter-stank:

built from scraps - YOU GUYS, this is one of the best fics I’ve read on AO3.  It’s a ‘Tony gets dusted instead of Peter’ AU, and it’s got such an amazing dynamic between Peter, Pepper, and Morgan.  It’ll also make you tear up a few times, at least.

@geekymoviemom:

Sins of the Fathers - So, I’ve only read the first 5 chapters of this epic length (303k words@) adoption AU so far, but I’m LOVING it so I wanted to add it here.  They also have an even longer bio-dad Tony with added Stony bonus series, Pieces of Echoes, that they’re posting the 3rd installment to right now.  I’ll definitely be checking it out!

@too-many-bees:

let’s kick it

like a bridge over troubled water

@jbsforever:

it’ll be over (and I’ll still be asking when)

@tnyystark:

where the memories reside

@whumphoarder:

Quieting the Void series - Peter kinda has an eating disorder due to the spider bite, so take care if you read!

Poison Apple - Loved how medically accurate this was, and Ned’s reaction to Peter’s condition was heartbreaking.

@seek-rest:

It Hurts to Become

Someday We’ll Know - This is a Walk to Remember AU, so there’s MCD.  I’ve gotten about halfway through, but I can only read it when I’m in the right mindset.  But it’s lovely and so well done.  

This author has so many fics that I’m sure are amazing, and they’re on my ‘to read’ list when I’m in the mood for beautiful Spideychelle stories.

@caraminha:

The Primary Reason Tony Stark Would Throw Down With an Anti-Vaxxer in the Street - Hella scary depiction of Peter with tetanus, and it’s SO GOOD.

@tonystarkstan:

it all comes back to this

skeletons series

to build a home series - I love recovery fics, and this was a beautiful story of Peter dealing with the aftermath of being snapped and coming back.

lay your weary head to rest

@foolscapper:

Exploding Head Syndrome - Everyone comes back when the snap is reversed, but Peter is sort of catatonic--stuck between the living world and the soul stone where he’s with Gamora.  It’s such a lovely fic.

@alice-in-ink:

It’s a Little Bit We Do

Danger Pizza

@legalassie:

oh, darling - Peter’s kidnapped and Tony frantically searches for him--one of my favorite things.  Peter uses his smarts to help him get out of the situation, too, which is also one of my favorite things.

don’t think about tomorrow. 

@blackwatchandromeda:

Broken Thoughts (I Remember Everything)

Leave Me to Dream

A Nightmare to Remember

@emma--anacortes: 

Accepting the Tides - Here I am with another adoption AU.  Can you see a pattern yet?  I love them, and this one has danger and whump and comfort as well.  

@ardenskyedarcy221b:

they are standing in the garden - This hurt.  Several times the author had me tearing up and there’s a few lines that will stay with me forever.  It was just immensely lovely to read.

@iamallyetnotatall:

At the Start of the Universe - This was so much better than I was expecting! Peter is an Angel, and he knows Tony from the very beginning of the universe. It’s different, but absolutely gorgeous.

@starktowr:

somewhere outside my life - I don’t wanna say too much, but just read this.  It’ll break you and you’ll love it.

@jessicagoddamnjones: 

too bad (but it’s the life you lead)

@silver-bubbles:

The Fire’s Out (But Still It Burns)  

@day-dreamer176:

Like A Strike of Lightning - I kinda took this as a demonic possession a la Supernatural, but I don’t think it actually was.  Either way, it was fantastic.

fifty-four

five, tops

The World Stopped

@ambivalentmarvel:

Into His Fold series - Where Thanos brings Peter back from the ashes to make him into his new son (a la Nebula and Gamora).

@notaparty-trick:

Doom and Gloom - A ‘Peter doesn’t get dusted’ AU, filled with whump and Iron Dad and an awesome Carol Danvers.  Angst!!!

Dust and Blood - Peter is hurt much worse when Toomes drops the building on him.  More angst!!!!  This author does angst very well.

@ema--vee:

You don’t have to hold your head up high - Peter can’t thermoregulate!  I love that trope.

@forensicleaf:

All the Things We’ve Lost (And All the Things We’ve Gained) - This one gutted me, and then made it better.  But there’s pain to be had before the comfort!

They just posted the first chapter of a new WIP that looks AMAZING, too: Can’t Part the Sea, Can’t Reach the Shore.

@plnkblue:

foolish, fragile spine - Peter’s severely injured in his fight with Adrian Toomes and Tony finds him.  

@helloitisiafellowgay:

god did not craft us as altars, but as dying gods - Okay, guys.  This one is heavy.  It deals with Skip coming back into Peter’s life, and it’s not pretty but it’s handled superbly.  It’s a tough read, but one I definitely recommend if you can handle it.  Take care of yourselves first and foremost, though.  <3

~ ~ ~ I’m not sure if the following authors have a tumblr, so I just linked their AO3 pages ~ ~ ~

eccentric_artist_221b:

Only for a Little While - This is a Titanic AU, and it’s AMAZING.  There’s several scenes that just took my breath away and brought me to tears (not an easy feat). They’re also working on a WWI sequel!!!!

tiaylasglass:

the one who made it out - Short, simple in a gorgeous way, and poignant.  

And finally, I thought I’d humbly add my own little contribution to the fandom.  So far, I’ve only written the one fic, but I hope to write more in the future!

@ghostinthebau:

For Want of a Dad (in need of a son) - There’s a bit of blood, and a very distraught Tony at one point, so warning for angst and injury!

Again, this list is probably severely lacking, and if someone has a rec that’s not on here please please please reblog this and let me know!  I’m always in the mood for more fics.  

And I hope anyone reading this finds something they enjoy!  

I’m sure you will.  

ilu 3,000

:)

[princess-of-the-corner]

Human After All: I'd like to know more about A) Lust realizing that Hohenheim had an actual life in Resembool and B) everyone's reactions to Ed and Al sneaking off to do the human transmutation and the aftermath.

Oh boy here we fuckin go!!!!!

Lust realizing that Hohenheim had a life in Resembool:

Oh boy. Okay so this has some setup.

When Lust first meets Ed and Al, she assumes the situation is a lot different. Basically They're close enough to be mistaken for twins, so she thought it was more "one night stand and disappeared from town but their mom remembered the name and told the kids". Because... Why would he stay?

But then Lust babysits Ed and Al on a trip back to Resembool to visit Winry and her grandma. And like.

Lust gets curious about some things. And she happens to see a photo album out that she can't help but look through.

Of course Granny finds her snooping but just lets her look through it and explains that it's from Winry's parents' wedding. And Lust eventually flips to a page where Hohenheim is in the photo.

Lust pauses on it because it's so strange. First in general, of how Hohenheim looks just like Father but also nothing like him at the same time. Physically identical, but the way they carry themselves is.. Entirely different.

Especially as this picture is kinda goofy. Granny tells her how everyone was hinting to Hohenheim that he should marry Trisha since they were already "basically married". And the newly married Sarah Rockbell had given up pn subtly, and chucked her boquet right at Hohenheim's face with a "sorry I was aiming for Trisha!"(which no one belives because she has incredible aim).

Lust asks more on that. And Granny mentions how Hohenheim and Trisha had been together for a bit amd were already living in the same home. And that pretty much immediatly after that whole "lack of subtly" the pair decided "despite not going through legal paperwork we are married now fuck you' and also bonus pregnancy announcement. Which has Lust relize Ed and Al aren't twins.

But it's weird to her. Because like. Hohenheim had a life here? He was with this woman for a few years and essentially got married (clearly the "don't go through the paperwork" is because he doesn't legally exist). But like. He had a wife and kids. One of the kids seems to have been actually planned. Why would he do that? And why did he leave? No one has answers on that, but Granny says that if he did leave, it was for good reasons. Not whatever the town gossips make up for fun.

Granny is a little sus about Lust's interests in all this because like. I kiiinda mentioned this before on my artblog but he way I draw Lust she actually looks a lot like "if Ed was a girl" and considering how much Ed looks like Hohenheim... They basically look somewhat related. Granny points that out and kinda pulls some Gaslight Girlboss Gatekeep of "nope no relation whatsoever my father just worked with him long ago but it's totally not relevant to anything!"

Anyway!

Later, Lust is wandering around Ed and Al's home because that fucker hasn't burned yet. And she just... Sees more of it.

True. It's been just the boys for years but there's still things like his clothes in the bedroom closet or something casually put on a shelf too high for Trisha to have reached.

The two rooms that really hit are the bedroom and the study.

Tbe bedroom is mostly untouched. But she sees a shelf of little statues. It's strange to her, but she realizes all the statutes are made from Alchemy. About half of them have very obvious marks, a sign of a talented but inexperienced maker. Seeing two distinct styles, she cam guess Ed and Al made those.

The rest are perfect. Intricate and flawless. If they weren't on the shelf with the others, she would've thought they were made by some master clay artist.

Alchemically made trinkets as gifts for someone they love.

The study is another beast altogether. A whole library on Alchemical texts. Some even older than Lust. All marked up with someone's notes in the margins. The same person's notes, as the handwriting doesn't differ. Clearly all these are important. So why leave them?

The real hard hitter is a journal Hohenheim left. Of course Lust reads it. The fact that the journal is written in Xerxian is just another punch to the gut, but thankfully Lust can read it.

It has a lot of things but the main info she reads is an entry from when Ed was just born and Hohenheim is discussing worries over how his whole "Philosophers Stone in Human Form" deal might be effecting Ed in terms of like. Genetics and stuff.

But the main thing Lust focuses on is that Hohenheim mentions discussing those fears with Trisha. That he told her what he was and his whole history and everything.

It's... Confusing to Lust. Why did Hohenheim just settle down here in this small ass rural town with a normal woman? What was it about her that compelled him to stay in one place so long? To settle down after years and have a kid? Having a second kid? And telling her about... Everything?

She finds no answer because, from all accounts, it seems like Trisha was just a normal, small-town girl. She didn't even have an interest in Alchemy! Just gardening. Why her? Why not someone at least... Great and powerful to match what he was? Even if no one could truly compare to what he was.

Everyone's reactions to Ed and Al sneaking off to do Human Transmutation:

Oh boy. This is a big plot point.

So the boys had quite a plan to trick the adults. Lust has gone on trips out of town for weekends(reporting back to Father), and she's also babysat the boys on a trip to Resembool before. So the boys wait until one of her trips and tell Roy and Riza that she's taking them on a different trip to Resembool. None of the adults know this until Lust comes back without them and has no idea where they were.

They put it together real fast and all three book it to the train station. Several hours of worried pacing of what could've happened.

Roy and Riza are entirely in the dark of what might happen. Lust though... She knows how the Gate works. And what could have happened.

She knows that There's a Price to pay. And while she was planning on encouraging the boys to go through the Gate anyway, she was supposed to be involved with it so she could trade a part of her Philosopher's Stone for their safety. Obviously just so they don't loose a Sacrifice to blood loss or later infection! Not because she cares or anything! But yeah without her, who knows what the Price may be?

They check the boys house first. They see plenty of blood, which is a terrifying sight. But they also see a trail leading out. And that if the boys are still alive, they probably went to the Rockbell place.

Which yeah. Granny's already waiting for them. She wants to yell at them for failing, but it would be hypocritical sinve she didn't notice the first time around.

She tells them the boys are alive but fucked up. Ed lost a couple limbs and Al is... Hard to explain.

Lust is the first to notice the suit of armor in the living room. The way it's arranged like a child, curled up and hiding, barely peeking out from behind the "arms". Light in it's "eyes", like someone's in there watching her.

She remembers the experiments done on the death row inmates. Puttin Souls in suits of armor. She's horrified, but not surprised, when it moves.

That is a whole conversation. Lust has to pretend she doesn't know how that works(while also questioning how the boys managed it). Al tells them what he remembers, which is just everythiny going wrong and then being in the armor and Ed missing some limbs.

We have a long emotional scene when Roy goes to talk to Ed.

Ed is very much not okay at this point and he's trying to be angry but it's just not really there. And he just asks why Roy is still there. He failed to keep them from fucking up why does he still care? Just go back home and leave them so he doesn't have to deal with them anymore.

Well that's just heartbreaking. Roy just talks to him about a lot of things. And the main thing was that this wasn't just "I'm gonna try and stop you but whoops failed that bye bitch" situation. He's not just going to drop the kids because he failed once. He's not even going ti drop them after months of pushing him away and being stubborn about the whole situation. They're a family now damn it.

And Ed kinda feels like that might be worse, because he threw that away ti go fuck up. But Roy tells him it's not "thrown away". They're still going to be here for him. And figure things out.

Later at night, Roy, Riza and Lust all kinda sneaknout individually. Which does lead to some comedy until Granny catches them and calls them idiots. But all of them were thinking of going to the boy's house and looking over their notes.

Roy and Lust are the only ones who can make heads or tails of the notes. Riza can follow some but gets lost and Granny never was an Alchemy person. Roy's looking more for "what went wrong" while Lust is focused more on "what went right". And Lust does find that though they came very close to making a Homunculus, they did do everything pretty right. She accidentally comments on that, which leads to a horrifying theoretical of "what if the boys managed to make a fake Trisha that looked and acted like her but wasn't her?". This also leads to the more disturbing question of "what was it they did manage to make"?

This is a thing that came up in Canon, but here they get answers of the thing that they made wasn't their mom, and you can't bring back the dead. Ed and Al take that news about as well as they did in Canon as well.

The "possible homunculus" thing comes up too with the others wondering if Al really is Al and not just... Something vaguely like him that Ed accidentally created. (Lust knows but can't tell how she knows rip!). Riza to the rescue on this one by asking Al about something Ed shouldn't know about. So that existential crisis is averted!

Of course there's discussion of what to do to help Ed and Al. Which... Does lead to getting back toward Canon of "have Ed become a State Alchemist". It's debated a lot because ya know. Sure it's the best option to help them have the freedom and access to stuff tk find shit but. Ya know. Roy already feels like he failed to protect these kids once already this is not helping.

Anyway! One more fun scene!

Please imagine once Ed gets the automail arm and just does the clap-slap Alchemy. And Roy and Riza are like "yo what the FUCK???"

[nightwingshero]

Being saved by a man child?

Hehehehehe, I fucking love this. Okay, so like...I know I should have used that title for something Wren x John, but its actually for one of my Jujutsu Kaisen ocs that's shipped with Satoru Gojo. Uhhhh, I answered part of this already, so I'm gonna link it here (especially because its connected and it happens before what I post here, so it gives insight), but I'll add another snippet for funsies!

“You don’t normally have issues with special grades, Hada.” She pressed, not letting me brush it off. I took a moment to take her in. The bags under her eyes were notably darker and her hair was haphazardly pulled back into a ponytail, she looked exhausted to say the least. That only made me feel worse.

“You look like you could use a smoke.” I muttered, ignoring her comment completely, but that only made her raise a brow at me.

“I quit, remember? Last I checked, it wasn’t a brain injury I had to heal for you and considering that was just a few moments ago…” Trailing off, she watched and waited. When I didn’t say anything, she rolled her eyes and continued. “You gonna tell me what happened?”

“It was just…” I tried to find the words to describe it, but nothing really came to mind, so I just shrugged, too frustrated, tired, and stressed to really care at the moment. “I don’t know.” My jaw ticked as an overwhelming feeling grew. Everything was just too much and all I wanted was to collapse under my bed and get the hell away from the godforsaken fluorescent lights above us.

“Well,” she sighed as she put her hands in her lab coat pockets, catching onto my mood. She switched tactics then, giving up on the questioning only for the moment. “This could have led to you being dissected.”

Scoffing, I moved to make my way out of the room. “I’m sure you would have had a field day with it. You would have done a good job—" A hand shot out and gripped my arm as her brown eyes sharpened on me. I blinked at her in shock for just a moment, not used to her breaking her laidback demeanor the way she was.

“Take in account that it would have been me cutting up a friend.” Guilt twisted in my gut for a moment as she held my gaze a few moments more. We had been friends since starting at this damn school, so of course it would have bothered her to have to see her friend laying on a slab in her morgue. No matter how normal it was for us to deal with it. When I opened my mouth to reply, she only huffed and let me go. “Besides, I wouldn’t want to deal with the damn aftermath of that. Last thing I need is that idiot bursting in here with his chaos and starting bullshit with the higher-ups because of it.”

“That wouldn’t have happened.” I replied, ignoring the image that popped in my head of him losing his shit in the meeting room, his crazed smile almost making me shiver. Almost. Grabbing the handle of the door, I looked back at her. “Gojo has his own issues with the higher-ups, my death wouldn’t have—”

“Bullshit. He’s arrogant enough to take things personally when they don’t even concern him, so if you think your death wouldn’t hit him that way, then you’re delusional.” I stared at her for a moment, my jaw hanging slack, but she just continued, her eyes closing as she rubbed them. “Of course, it could have actually been personal in this case, considering.”

My hand slipped from the handle as I turned back to her. “Considering what exactly?” Shoko groaned as she rubbed her face, tucking loose strands behind her ear.

“Forget it. I don’t want involved—”

“Considering what, Shoko?” I pressed, my tone taking a bit of an edge. We eyed each other for a few moments, and when she realized I wasn’t backing from it, her shoulders slumped.

“Its convenient that this happened just after that meeting, don’t you think?” I frowned as my mind raced to catch what she was referring to, and once it hit me, my body went cold. That meeting. Would something so small truly have such a major effect? To the point of my life getting put in a position of being taken? I knew the answers already, knew them so deep in my bones, but I couldn’t figure out the reason, other than what I already knew. What made this so different? Why do it now? Gojo’s words suddenly echoed in my mind, taunting me.

“That means they have to actually get to me, and I’m sure that’s not possible. I’m untouchable.”