#this man is called triple face and none of these faces are the real one (even furuya's one...)

[homosexualcitron]

Furuya Rei from Detective Conan, Ivan from Alien Stage, Kazui from Milgram, Yuujirou from Honeyworks' idol series, do all my fav characters have to be pathological liars and have fake made up personalities

[heart4reigns]

DRAGGED, roman reigns.

warnings: curse words, kayfabe, bitch (y/n) alert!!

tags: austin theory trying to flirt, kissing, paul heyman being annoying, just pure agony between these two losers, pet names

summary: it's not an act, she's just a bitch

TURNING heel was definitely a career-defining moment for you. it was easier for you to be portrayed as the 'bad guy' in this industry. it made people think that you are, in fact, a bitch in real life–which was true. that helped people stray away from you. you were untouchable. no one dared to cross your path. people backstage remembered the 'austin theory' incident.

he thought you were only unapproachable on stage, but you were still the same after the camera stopped rolling. the male-wrestler decided it was a good idea to ask for your phone number and flirted a bit with you, in front of the crew, of course. things took a turn when you didn't say anything and just walked away. to say the least after that day, you were the talk of the town and no one bothered you.

after showing your face on tv, you went backstage in a hurrying matter–wanting to go home as fast as you could. you thanked god that the hallway to the parking lot was empty–so you thought–as you spotted a certain man in a suit. it was none other than paul heyman. of course he was there, he was everywhere.

you hated the entire bloodline (with an exception of solo and the twins) which leaves only paul and roman. they were insufferable. "hey, new girl." he greeted you. "what do you want?" your tone was cold. "you did great out there, you have so much potential." you only nodded in response. "is that all?" his eyes widened in surprise.

paul confirmed it himself that the rumors were true, you were hard to crack. "i'm interested in your future, you know, the draft is happening in a few days. you heard about it?" "yeah, and?" you knew he was a higher up in the board, but you couldn't careless. you were tired and you wanted to go home. "'if that's all, i'll be going home." without waiting for his answer, you went outside.

after hearing your footsteps fade away, paul immediately pulled out his phone and made the call. "hello, yes, you'd love her."

the next following days were somehow boring; you couldn't careless about the draft happening, you knew you were always going to be with the blue brand.

to say the least, the backstage was crowded with people. you passed crews doing their own job, like usual. wardrobe passed the iconic blue shirt that they were bringing back since the 2000s. "now we have to wear this thing again?" you raised an eyebrow at the staff. "y- yes. the boss asked us to bring it back." you sighed in agony. "okay." was all that came out of your mouth.

you sat at the very back, not wanting to gain attention from anyone. but like a diamond in a sea of blood, you stood out. one by one, the stars entered the room, you spotted your coworkers, only nodding at them when they greeted you. and there he was.

the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns. you've never interacted with him or even spared a glance at him. he had this aura that you hated. he was just as dominant as you were. people were intimidated by his position and the power he had. he just had to sit right next to you.

he was alone. what a rare sight. the twins were two rows in front of you. so it was quite strange for the tribal chief himself to not sit in front, gaining everyone's attention. but then again, you couldn't careless. you could feel his eyes on you. "what do you want?" you asked, each word laced with ice. he didn't respond. "then stop staring at me, we're rolling in 5."

the draft started and everyone got into character. not you though, you were still the same. you saw triple h, speaking to the microphone. "this first pick, goes to smackdown, and they select... all four drafted as one. paul heyman, solo sikoa, the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns. and the lone wolf, (y/n) (l/n). the bloodline!" the camera panned to the two of you as you heard people in the room gasping. "what the f–"

and things went downhill after that.

the cameras stopped rolling and you didn't know what to do. your entire career path was a mess. no one said anything to you about being drafted with the bloodline. the last thing you remembered before you were dragged into a meeting room was that smug look plastered on roman's face. as soon as the door closed, leaving 6 people–including you, alone, hell broke loose. "what the fuck is this about?" you raised your voice.

"listen, (y/n)." paul was the first one to speak up. "no, you listen to me you little shit. i was doing fine alone, now i am dragged into this bullshit family drama without me knowing? what the fuck happened to diplomacy?" you furrowed your eyebrows. solo, jey, and jimmy were speechless. people would kill to be in the bloodline. "you just had to drag me into this mess that i don't want. i would prefer to be drafted to raw for fuck's sake."

"leave." a word came out of roman's mouth, instructing the other 5 to leave the room and they did. this was the very first time you were left alone with the tribal chief himself. the room was quiet, tension so thick, you could cut it with a knife. "if you think i am scared of you, you're wrong." you barked at him. "calm down, babygirl." the black-haired man chuckled. "do not fucking call me babygirl, i have a name."

you didn't know what was going on in the minds of the creative board, but you didn't like it. "if you stop being a hot-headed babygirl, we can talk terms." he said. "then fucking explain it! i was doing so good alone, roman. i don't even know you." you continued. "it was my idea to include you in the bloodline." he paused for a second to stare at you.

"paul saw your potential and i watched your match against bayley. this entire lone wolf act, you fit right in." "well, it's not an act. i work alone." you glared at him, trying to fight back. "fuck you, i don't want to see you." he leaned in closer and grabbed your chin. "babygirl," roman paused for a second, not breaking eye-contact. "i'm not going anywhere." oh it was so on for the two of you.

the first match was in 2 weeks. it was already stressful enough for you to train with the bloodline. you arrived at their usual gym, still pissed off by the fact that you weren't going to train alone. "hey, (y/n)!" jimmy greeted you with a smile. you nodded in response and went straight to the ring.

roman was standing there with a clipboard in his hands, scribbling something down. "you're late." he said, not looking at you. "blame my uber." paul entered the ring with the twins and solo. "so i just got word from creatives that they're going to push the two of you," paul paused for a second to point at you and roman. "into a tag team."

just when you thought things couldn't get worse than before, it did. "you gotta be shitting me." you cursed out. the smug look came back once again. "they're putting you up in a match with sami and kevin." the four wrestlers chuckled. "this is so funny." jey chuckled. "oh they're going to love it." paul added.

the training started and surprisingly, the chemistry between roman and you were unmatchable. you never doubted him and his strength and the same goes to him. "punch him as the last move." you suggested, scribbling down some additional notes. "and you'll flip owens over the ropes." he knew exactly what you were thinking about. "right." then again, you were kind of surprised how well the two of you were in-sync.

training ended, leaving only you and roman in the gym. the others left as they didn't have anything to do. you hated the fact that the two of you were a match. "you did great, babygirl." he said, taking off his gloves. "call me 'babygirl' one more time and i'll knock you out without any hesitation." you stared at him. roman chuckled darkly. that was kinda hot, you thought. "i'm leaving."

"no, you're going to eat with me." "and what if i say no?" you raised an eyebrow. "i'm going to kiss you on live television." this man was getting on your nerves. "if you do that, i'm actually going to fucking kill you." and there you were, in his car, eating your feelings away. you hated this. you hated the fact that you were under his control.

you didn't want him to actually kiss you on live television, it could damage your cold image. "are you always this hard to deal with, sweetheart?" he asked you, taking a bite of him fries. "are you always this fucking annoying to women?" "only to you, baby." you groaned in frustration. "why do you work alone?" questions kept coming from him. "because i don't like people."

"but you'll like me soon." like hell i would, you thought. sure he was handsome, everyone wanted to be with him, but his ego was triple the size of his achievements. “you know, you were once a men’s locker room topic.” you furrowed your eyebrows. “what does that supposed to mean?” you took a sip of your drink. “the guys had a bet on who could have your number first. i didn’t participate because it was pretty dumb.” roman chuckled at the memory.

“i’m not something to bet on.” you defended yourself. “i know, that’s why i told them to call it off. but some of them, not naming any names, didn’t listen.” you had flashbacks of the austin theory incident. “god, people are so fucking dumb sometimes.” it was the first time that he heard you laugh. “sorry, i just hate it when people think that they can easily break me by flirting with me and all. it doesn’t work like that for me.”

“so what works for you?” he asked. “nothing works for me, i’m here to get paid. not flirt with people and be a trophy that men can just carry around.” your answer made his eyes softer than before. “don’t fucking cry on me now, big boy. i don’t need empathy.” you barked. still, the toughest one out there, he thought. “anyways, paul asked about what do you wanna do to gain attention for our match?” he stirred the conversation to work stuff.

“i don’t know, don’t need anything, people will either boo at me or they’ll praise the ground i walk on. what do you wanna do?” you returned the question. “let me kiss you.” that sentence made you choke on air. “be fucking for real, roman.” you stared at him. “i’m serious, babygirl. imagine the views, the engagements, the talk. you said you wanted a great match? i’ll give you a great match.” you were not going to kiss this hot man for the sake of views. “not going to fucking happen.” “trust me, i’m a good kisser. and i know you’re attracted to me.”

the booking decision went viral on social media. it was shocking news to everyone. you grew okay to working with the bloodline, you were able to tolerate all their antics including roman’s flirty nature. d-day came and you were ecstatic for it.

the locker room was filled with excitement. "LET'S GO, LET'S GOOOOO!" the twins were pumping with adrenaline. "WE'RE GOING TO EAT SHIT UP TODAY!" jey said. "jesus, calm down would you?" you rolled your eyes at him. "NO I CANNOT CALM DOWN, THIS IS D-DAY!" he was bumping his chest with sami. the locker room's excitement quickly died down as one of the staffs called in for you and roman.

the choreography worked out well for the 4 of you. countless practices and you were ready to go. "let's go." roman said, dragging you out to the hallway. "i can walk on my own, big dog." he smirked. "not in my world." roman was practically holding your hand. "it's good for the act." he assured you. what act? you just want to get it with me, you thought.

"for the first time ever, the undisputed wwe universal champion and the lone wolf in a tag team match against sami zayn and kevin owens, this is history!" the announcer yelled. walking down to the ring was painful for you as roman kept holding your hand. you kept a straight face along the way, hoping that he would drop your hand soon, but he didn't.

the match started and it was going well, until kevin accidentally tripped and landed on you. you clenched your teeth in pain. this is why you didn't like working with people. you pulled through and there was only one move left. roman's eyes was filled with concern but you gave him a quick nod and flipped kevin over the ropes. "and your here are your winners for the tag team match, the undisputed wwe universal champion, roman reigns and the lone wolf, (y/n) (l/n)!" he looked at you with a huge smirk plastered on his face.

oh shit, you thought. he was going to do it. "you are not going to kiss me!" you shook your head in panic.

there you were, standing still, while he kissed your lips. the entire crowd went wild. you know what? fuck it, for the views, you thought. you responded to the kiss and left him in shock. "what? cat got your tongue?" you lifted his hand up, acknowledging your victories. "i'm going to give you hell for this." you mouthed at him. "look at them, the lovebirds! that should be their tag team name!”

the locker room atmosphere was unbeatable. everyone was praising you for your moves. "(y/n), that was amazing!" kevin greeted you with a smile. "i'm sorry i kinda botched the last move, i wasn't very careful." he apologized. "yeah, we're good. although it hurts like a bitch but that's life." kevin still felt bad. "dude, chill. now go away and get some rest." you assured him that you were going to be okay.

roman came back to the locker room, after being the last one to exit the ring. that was a long ass outro, you thought. "babygirl, you did so good." a shiver ran down your spine. "of course i did." you took off your gloves. "you're a good wrestler and an even better kisser." your cheeks flushed. "why the fuck did you do that?" "because i wanted to."

"you could've just asked." you were challenging him. "so, can i get a kiss now?" he raised an eyebrow. "no." you barked at him. "i always get what i want." the cocky tone made you agitate. "you know what? fuck it." you stood up from your seat and leaned closer to him. it caught him off-guard as you placed your lips on his. the locker room cheered as they saw you provoking the tribal chief himself. "you got what you wanted, now i want something in return. i want you to take me on a proper date so you can get a proper kiss."

[icyowl]

Fields of Dolos

Pairing: Leander x reader

Synopsis: Leander sees your curse in action for the first time. You tend to his wounds while he tends to your heart.

Request: none

A/N: Help this man has made me feral. How can you expect me to wait 2 and a half years to find out his secret?!

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

You'd love to say you were surprised, that you'd never expect yourself to be facedown in the mud, choking on street water, with a man's knee pressing down between your shoulder blades and forcing the remaining air from your lungs. . . but you'd be wrong. Why were you blessed with such a gravitation towards trouble?

The burly man's arms pinned yours to the ground, making it impossible to do anything other than thrash helplessly. He was huge — tall yet thick, his neck bordering on a triple chin. “We saw you with that horned demon. Conspiring to bring the soulless in here and massacre us all? Huh, worthless little wench?”

“That's not. . .” You wheezed. Lack of air was robbing you of your sight. After facing off against monsters from beyond your most twisted nightmares, it would be a slobbering, balding, pig of a man that would end you. How cruel. How ironic.

One comment by him shocked one final, desperate wave of adrenaline into you: “What're these bandages for?”

Suddenly your fight grew more desperate. “Don't! I'll hurt you!”

He seemed to take it as a challenge. “You? Don't think you're in any position to be making threats.”

Words were nearly futile, he was still bracing most of his weight on your back. Still, you had to try, especially when his fingers began to dig under the bandages. “'S not—” your demands turned to pleas when he began to reveal your darkened skin, “please!”

“Whoa, looks like we got ourselves a bonnefide freak here, boys,” he said to the chuckling grunts behind him, “your mom sleep with a monster or something? Bet getting someone to love an unsightly thing like you has been a real chore.” He ended with a laugh, tinging your fear with humiliation. Your mind threw up a brief image of Leander, the only person you'd been able to touch, the only one who put so much effort into showing you kindness. Would he care when he found your corpse?

“Hold her arm still, gents, I wanna take home a souvenir.” You could just catch the gleam of a knife—from what you could see with your head buried sideways in the ground—and struggled with everything you had left.

“No!”

The three of them together took your arm in their hands, the one on top of you bringing the knife to rest on your skin, causing blood to well from under the serrated edge. He had just begun to cut, eliciting a scream from you at the terrible plain, before the madness took hold of them, and brought the whole struggle to a screeching halt. The earth stilled, so too did your heart, until time began to pick up at twice the pace.

By some stroke of luck, as the insanity began to plague their minds, the men turned on each other rather than you, lunging and ripping at one another in a brutal frenzy. You could finally run. And run you did.

Their hideous cackles sounded behind you as you hastily scrambled for purchase in the mud and took off down the streets. Anywhere was safer than here. Were they following you? You didn't stop to look. The only thing you could process as you tore down the alleys was the overwhelming desire to run, to escape. Water obstructed your already impeded vision, burning hot with emotions you couldn't hold back: sorrow, hatred, regret. You'd just condemned more souls to insanity. It didn't matter that they probably deserved it, it didn't matter what they called you or wanted to do to you, it only mattered that you'd brought more trouble than you were worth and you despired your existence for it. Why couldn't you—

—you narrowly avoided colliding right into the man rounding the corner towards you, careful to clutch your arms close to your body until you took in the shocked lichen-colored eyes of the man you trusted most.

“L-Leander?”

He placed gentle hands on your shoulders. “I've been looking everywhere for you—what's wrong?” He added, clearly seeing your terror. You didn’t have the time to answer. If they chased you down, if they caught up… you dreaded to see the aftermath. People affected by your curse not only grew mentally fractured but physically unencumbered by basic human limits. They turned beastly, inhuman, unrecognizable, and the last person you wanted to witness that was Leander.

“They’re coming, we have to go,” you begged.

“Whoa, slow down…”

Icy dread enveloped your burning lungs at the sound of maniacal laughter and rushing footsteps. The three men had indeed tailed you, and now appeared from behind the corner, sporting horrible grins and distorted cackles. They moved at you in a trance; your attempted escape probably provided the instinct to chase you down through the sprawling streets. Frankly you had entirely forgotten Leander was there at all until he pulled you behind his large silhouette, causing the men to slow and become wary at his gaze alone.

They slobbered through enormous smiles until it fell from their chins in fat globs, giggling and mumbling all the while. It was a painful sight to watch but one you were far too familiar with. Just as scared as you were for your own life, you too worried about Leander. Three against one? Three against two—if you could be any help—still didn’t seem like a favorable outcome. There was no way—and yet, Leander looked like he certainly would try.

His hands lit up with the same bright swirls you first saw in the Wet Wick, but the feel of the energy was a far cry from what you’d seen before. Now he felt dangerous.

You voice trembled. “I’m sorry, I never—“

“Stay behind me.” Leander growled lowly. Had he always sounded so commanding? Guilt enveloped you to the point of resigned silence. It was one thing to deal with problems of your own doing, but now you were bringing in others too.

There was a momentary standoff while Leander kept them at bay with his aura alone, enough time for you to be engulfed by guilt to the point of pain. It was one thing to deal with problems of your own making, but now you were dragging in good, innocent people. People that would lead simpler lives without your presence.

Before you could think anymore the three men jumped on Leander. Or, tried to. Your companion transformed into a skilled, tactical fighter, keeping three grown men at bay with his fists, dagger, and waves of magic. It seemed to be going in his favor until the numbers game and their natural ferocity began to play out: as good as he was, Leander wasn’t winning against six tearing hands and burly adults with no regard for personal safety. They went at him like animals.

In the fray, Leander tossed one unwittingly close to your feet. You prayed you wouldn't be spotted, you really did, shrinking back against the alley's decrepit walls. The man's eyes were far too familiar.

Despite the broken jaw, courtesy of Leander, swaying to and fro, the man held you still with a gross and wicked grin. You could tell he had a broken leg, too. It didn't matter. He only stood, forcing the bone protruding from his shin farther out into the open air when he put his weight on it.

Fear? Absolutely.

Guilt? For sure.

Resignation, maybe even relief, that you were about to be put out of your misery? That was there, too.

It seemed like you were meant to suffer, so why not get it over with?

You stared while the man got down on all fours and lunged like the animal you'd turned him into. He flew at you, mouth agape and serrated teeth gleaming with saliva. It would have been the last thing you ever saw if it weren't for Leander, who, in one move, yanked you against his chest and turned so his back took the brunt of the attack. You both shifted as the enormous weight crash into him — he had to brace himself against the wall with his free hand to stay on his feet — yet he held tight, and you remained upright, protected, and unharmed.

A grunt gave away Leander's pain, yet he refused to loosen his grip on you. His voice was tight when he spoke. “You okay?”

You looked at his calm and gentle eyes, mouth wide with shock, and then to the man still biting into his back. Leander didn't wait for your answer. It was probably a good thing — words had escaped you entirely.

By now the savage man had wrenched his teeth free from Leander's shoulder, eliciting a spray of blood, and moved back to assess his options or plan for another onslaught. Leander adjusted the dagger in his grip. Sure, he looked like he could look after himself, the other two already dispatched and laying in the dirt off to the side, but all you could look at was the burgundy blood ebbing from the back of his shoulder and staining his cloak. Your chest shrunk two sizes.

Frankly you should have been used to violence by now — you certainly had seen your fair share — but still you closed you eyes when the man charged at Leander, somehow convinced your skilled friend would meet his end and unable to watch it happen. When you opened them, he was holding the man back with nothing but his hands on the man's arms, pushing him off balance and using the dagger to swiftly and precisely cut across his jugular. The man stumbled, gurgled, and smiled until he dropped dead in a limp heap.

The air began to settle. Dust floated back to the ground and the alleyway had gone silent except for the mildly labored breathing of Leander. He didn't even sound like he'd broken a sweat.

Finally your body felt safe to worry about breathing again. When before you'd been silent with fear, now you took in loud, gasping breaths like there wasn't enough air in the city to fill your tight lungs. Leander was on you in a second, hands trying to ease every jump of your shoulders.

“Easy, easy.” He said.

“I'm so—you shouldn't have had to—I—they—”

You should have been used to instances like this, you were used to instances like this, but what you weren't used to was the sacrifice he had made to keep you safe. Never before had anyone done something like that, and now he was bleeding because of it.

Your eyes found the tears in his cloak where he'd been bitten. It was one thing to know about your curse, to hear about it's side effects, but now he'd seen, with his own eyes, what it could do; he'd bared the brunt of it, too. He had accepted the fissured skin and skittish tendencies, but fighting off deranged men with horrible grins and getting bit in the process as if he were fighting off animals. . . you tucked your chin to your chest, full of dejection. You didn't want to confirm what you knew would be there: anger, disgust, fear, and rejection. A gentle grip on your hands drew your attention. Leander ducked to meet your eyes and you saw nothing but concern for you. It made you feel even worse.

“I,” you began.

“Your panic is consuming you. I need to get you to calm down before your heart bursts.” Leander didn't mean it seriously, but still you did as told. The last thing he needed was to look after you like a child. It took time, and the occasional word of encouragement from Leander, but eventually you were stable enough to stop taking in strangled gulps through your mouth and breathe through the nose like a normal person.

“Focus on your breathing,” he continued, pausing to use his gloved hand to tenderly wipe the mud from your eyes and cheeks, “here, let's get you cleaned up.”

When he was satisfied, he disappeared to get water, and when he was done with that, he walked you back to your room at the Wick, briefly telling a bloodhound to 'tend to what's behind Merda street' while you hide you exposed arm under your cloak. You didn't have the energy to tell Leander that he didn't actually have to help you up the stairs. Before you could get your key in the door's brass lock, Leander's hand was hovering over your arm.

“You're hurt.” He said. For the first time, you looked at the cut you'd received from the man's knife. One clean, crisp line of red bubbled up from your skin where your wrappings had been unwound. In truth you'd forgotten about it entirely.

“It's nothing.” You replied, rushing to open the door and get some space between you and the warm, inviting, chivalrous man crowding your body and mind. The room was small—just a bed, two chairs and a table, and a nightstand—but clean. Better than you'd ever remember having, anyway.

Leander entered the room and shut the door quietly behind him. “It's natural to be scared. They could have killed you.”

“It's not that,” you said hastily. Where had these tears come from? They were invading your eyes and welling up in your throat against all wishes. When Leander grazed your shoulder, sensing something was wrong, you jumped. He saw the look in your eyes. You looked at him like you had the first day you'd met: like you could hurt him.

“Or,” you continued, hand on your forehead to perhaps keep you from falling apart, “or it's just that. I don't know. It's just. . . you saw. You saw what I do to people. Out of everyone, I somehow kept this curse from affecting you, and now it has. Now you have proof how inhuman I am.”

Your other arm inherently covered your body. Anything to be smaller, to disappear. When you spoke again, it was watery with emotion, and you gestured to the wound taunting you from atop his shoulder. “And now I've hurt you—”

Just as you broke down, Leander was there to piece you back together. He pulled you right against his front, close enough that your feet knocked into his, and thumbed away your tears with gentle touches, knowing how sensitive skin could get under his rough gloves. Leander even guided your head back to look at him when you attempted to back out of his hold. Somehow he had laughter in his tone even when you were wracked with guilt and shame.

“You think you could ever hurt me? That I'd blame you? Ais does worse than this on the monthly! And I know you have eyes, I know you've seen that I've been through much worse.”

His gaze was intense with many emotions while he gave you time to look at the scar on his face. The one you'd touched and revered just as he was doing with you now. Leander was right: the scar on his face was proof that he'd endured much more than a bite wound. He still hid much of his past from you; he never talked about himself, always putting you as the center of his attention, and whenever you tried to get him to open up, he deflected smoothly.

No close friends. No long-term relationships (Kuras had told you that much). No real connections apart from you. At least, you thought it was a real connection.

“I'd still like to help tend to it, if that's okay.”

His eyes widened as it dawned on him what that would entail. “Are you sure? I can go to Kuras—”

“Please?”

Leander appraised you for a long moment, looking for what, you didn't know, but eventually he nodded and moved to sit on your single bed. The bed creaked loudly under his weight and he fixed you with an expectant gaze. It dawned on you at that moment that this was the first time you'd see him shirtless.

“Uhh,” you struggled, “I'll g-go get some medical supplies.”

Your trip down to the bar for a small bucket of water and other necessary items was just as much to give you time to work through your thoughts as it was to actually get some water. Would he already be shirtless when you got back? Why did it matter? What if you didn't do it right and he had to leave to find someone else? How did this become such a big deal? Was it a big deal or were you just making it out to be one? No way Leander worried about this as much as you, the guy probably did this with another woman this week. Would you be mad if he had?

The bartender had to say your name twice to get you out of your thoughts.

You returned -- pale, towels, and bandages in hand -- up the creaking stairs to your little room just at the top of the landing. The narrow wooden door, worn with gouges from years gone by and darkened in the grain, stared you down and pinned you still. It felt unyielding.

The brass handle elicited a shiver when you took it in hand.

If you had to guess, you'd expect Leander to have taken his shirt off, and yet, there he sat where you'd left him when you finally opened the door. Clothed, relaxed, smiling.

“I was starting to get worried.” He said.

“Yeah, I. . .” You trailed off awkwardly. Sensing you needed some help, Leander jumped in again.

“I might need some help getting this coat off. If you're still—”

“Yeah. Sorry.” You rushed to put the bucket down by his feet at the bottom of the bed. When you straightened, his eyes were a vibrant jade, comparable only to the precious stones you'd seen the occasional diplomat wear on your travels, and you stepped back, suddenly aware of the close proximity. Leander touched your arm gently to try and prevent you from back away, and showed no reaction when you instinctively flinched. You were still wary of any touch to your arms — you'd been through too much to overcome it so easily — but Leander had been endlessly patient with you. He'd been that way from day one. It was a gesture you were endlessly grateful for, even if your nerves prevented you from voicing it.

There had been one of two people that had been similarly kind, only to reveal their true intentions: kill my enemy, let me experiment on you, help me threaten my family. No one had shown you the genuine kindness that expected nothing in return. No one.

Leander stood, letting you walk around his side to the wide berth of his back and shoulders while he pulled his gloves one finger at a time and tossed them on the bed. "I wish I could help, but," he caught your eye with a mischievous glint in his own, "I think you'll have to undress me yourself this time."

"This time? This is the first time."

"There can always be more."

You decided to ignore his quips in favor of gripping the collar of his coat in your hands. The shudder that overcame him at the feel of your fingers brushing the back of his neck went unnoticed by you.

Leander groaned when you tried to relieve him of his cloak; he couldn't lie, the tugging made the bite mark flare dangerously with discomfort. The guy really got him good.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be, just -- be gentle, baby. I'm a sensitive guy." He added with a laugh.

Leander did his best to suppress a grating hiss when you pulled one sleeve down past his elbow. Sure, the wound was on the other shoulder, but the radiant pain was no joke. Twisting his shoulders in any way sent more blood from the wound like it was excited to leave his body. Just ridding himself of the coat was a slow, laborious process. First one side, then the other, then back again, every tug on his skin pushing more blood out into the air. He was thankful for your patience while he carefully bent this way to shimmy free. After one last pained moan, you were finally able to rid him of the cumbersome jacket and toss it on the bed.

You'd never seen Leander without it before. Even with all the clothes still remaining, you couldn't help the nerves catching fire under your skin, and Leander couldn't help but watch you take him in with a barely-concealed reverence.

Your eyes, after finding Leander's gaze too powerful to maintain, drifted back to the wound and gaped at the clear damage he had to endure. No way would a regular set of teeth do this much damage. "Did this guy really have serrated teeth?" You asked incredulously.

"Some gangs of Lowtown will do it as initiation. They believe it emulates the Soulless and makes them more intimidating."

Well, it proved far worse than simply intimidating. To penetrate his jacket, the leather gorget underneath, and his shirt? Another wave of guilt consumed you. You were no better than the Soulless or those you cursed if you let people around you get hurt. Should you leave town? A painful twist deep in your gut told you how much it would hurt to leave those who were perhaps the first -- the only -- people who cared about you. If it kept them safe, though. . .

"Hey," Leander pulled you quietly from your reverie with soft words and a gentle thumbing of your chin with his good arm, "I could never blame you for something like this, understand? You looked so scared. . ."

You nodded, at a loss for what else to do, having yet to meet his eyes. Leander wasn't convinced, leaning down until there were scarcely a few inches between his face and yours. No way he didn't feel your heart galloping behind your ribs, and yet, the color of his eyes alone and the emotions flickering within -- you dared to think you might have seen adoration -- were almost strong enough to distract you from your own overwhelming reaction to him.

Whatever he was looking for, he must have found it. You'd just begun to taste his exhale on your tongue before he pulled back, allowing you to breathe and clear your head in the cool air that took his place. Had your mouth always been this dry?

You were trying to regain your bearings when another one of Leander's agonized grunts tore you back to the present. What didn't he understand about I'd like to help? In a rush you were on him, reaching up to loosen the straps of his gorget. The buckles were pliable after so much use and were easy enough to undo. Subtle clinking from the metal was the only thing breaking up the otherwise quiet atmosphere. One by one they gave way until all that remained was the one at the back of his neck, holding the collared portion flush against his neck.

Now it was your turn to close the gap. Your heartbeat accelerated with a vengeance, and your fingers trembled as they so often did around him, but still, your persevered. Leander was kind enough to lean forward to make it easier to reach the back of his neck. Kind enough to put your heart into overdrive, more like.

Hurry up. Don't mess up. Hurry up. Don't mess up. Hurry up. Don't mess up.

He only continued to stare down at you, smiling all the while, as you fought to remain calm and keep from fiddling too much with the buckle. At this rate, you were practically embracing him -- something you'd done with others -- so why couldn't you stop worrying?

From here you could watch the unruly strands of his hair tickle his long lashes. A set of criminally stubborn eyebags taunted you from beneath his otherwise vibrant eyes. How had they never gone away? His smile was so easy, so casual, even with the dark circles and the deep scar embedded under his eye and down his neck. Only now did you notice the intense color on his cheeks; how had you gotten so brave?

You stepped away as soon as you were done, embarrassed, only for Leander to catch your arms in a soft grip of his own and meet your eye -- giving you plenty of time to protest -- before deftly beginning to reveal the rest of your cursed hands to the open air. Even the room's stagnant air felt cool against the skin you diligently kept covered under layers of bandages.

"When are you going to worry about yourself?" He asked, carefully inspecting the slash on your forearm.

You resisted the urge to pull back. It was a strange dichotomy: you were so accustomed to keeping to yourself, drawing as little attention as possible, and putting up walls between you and people who would no doubt betray you if it meant bettering their own circumstances; you also felt an intense desire to bear yourself to the man in front of you and be encouraged to do so honestly. If you had the wherewithal, you'd be concerned.

"Uhh," you said faintly. He saw you eyeing the gorget and finally acquiesced to your silent request. The leather came off easily under your grasp. Now in just his shirt, what little of his physique normally kept hidden by his coat now left little to the imagination. Leander was broad, solid, and physically imposing. The remaining leather straps across his chest and stomach only made your mind wander farther faster. When those were gone, you then only had his black shirt to remove.

Then, after some struggle, that was gone, too.

The torrent of emotions sloshing in your stomach churned and roiled. Leander was so clearly damaged, and yet so, so beautiful. You hated staring and yet couldn't bare to look away. What had once been a sizable scar on his cheek and arm now revealed itself to be one massive, monstrous scar across his entire left side. It ran deep (how could he even survive something like this?) a covered his arm, shoulder, pectoral, and neck in a criss-crossing web. There were plenty of other nicks and scrapes and smaller scars, too. The man -- always so sweet and compassionate -- had clearly endured intense pain.

Yet even with all of that he remained devilishly handsome. Toned, muscular. . . he obviously spent a lot of time honing his physique and had great genetics to boot. Unfair, really.

Your admiration meant you'd been openly gawking for some time. Leander laughed a little to try and ease the tension. "I heard chicks dig scars."

That got you out of your funk very quickly. He shushed your rushed apology (you had done that too much today) and waited patiently while you procured rags and soaked them in the bucket of water. His wide back took up most of your sight when you moved to sit behind him on the bed.

"It's gonna sting." You said. His substantial shoulders hunched and flinched when you began to clean the bite wound on his back and shoulder. Now that you'd seen all he'd been through, the bite seemed meager in comparison, despite how it looked like it came from a rapid dog rather than a person.

You worked in silence for some time. Who knew there'd be this many tooth marks? Leander hissed quietly when you pressed on one, causing blood to ooze freely down his back.

Guilt took your heart in its claws and squeezed. Why did you feel so bad? He'd clearly been through worse before. You began to spiral. The emotions from the alleyway -- perhaps now that you finally felt safe -- raced up from your gut and into your throat and mouth. In no time at all water pooled at the bottom of your eyes and you were having a hard time staying silent. No one needed to deal with your silly emotions.

"Hey."

It was Leander. His good arm reached over his opposite shoulder to grasp your hand in a warm grip. Such a gentle caress put your heart on life support. A steady roar of blood erupted in your ears, turning into a cacophony when he let go of your hand only to carefully wipe away a tear that had escaped.

"Breathe." He urged.

How could you?

Regardless, you tried. It became easier when you focused on the jade light softly emanating from his eyes. He continued to thumb at your jaw, cheek, and chin, almost undoing all your progress with the simplest of actions.

"I'm so sorry," you said again, "for what happened, for me, for-"

"You," he interrupted, leaning in and kissing your forehead, his lips a little dry but nonetheless reverent, "never need to apologize for something you have no control over, okay? No one blames you, and if they do, tell them to talk to me."

He smirked. Against your will, the corners of your mouth lifted ever so slightly.

"Okay."

The rest of the cleaning went off without a hitch. It did, however, slow down considerably when you had to bandage the wound. Because of it's odd placement, you would need to anchor the bandages by wrapping around his arm, chest, and shoulder. Did you even have enough to fit around his bulky frame?

Your arms wrapped closely around him every time you wanted to pass the bandages around his front. Thankfully, Leander spared you from any of his usual teasing. You'd probably burst if he hadn't.

Heat continuously ebbed off of him and into your hands. It felt criminal for someone to look like this. . . and more criminal to hide it. How did Leander not have women hanging off his arms at all times?

Then again, the barkeep hinted that he did. Where were they? How was this man not married yet?

You tried to focus on your work instead of wondering about his private life. It wasn't hard, really. After all, Leander's physique was about all you could see. Large trapezius muscles held together toned shoulders, his arms were built, and his forearms veiny. His body fat must have been in a single digits, and his back muscles, prominent yet smooth under lightly freckled skin. . .

Again, criminal.

You swear you were doing final adjustments to the wrappings. You weren't intentionally stroking the large scar on his opposite shoulder. It just happened that you touched it accidentally.

Leander shuddered and worked through a shaky inhale. You retreated, afraid you did something wrong, only for him to quickly ease your worries.

"You're okay. It's just. . ." he exhaled, "sensitive."

Against better judgement, you moved to touch it again. How had Leander become the one person you were brave enough to get close to? He could have anyone, anytime, and yet, here he sat, patient and prone while you satisfied your curiosity and the overwhelmingly natural need for human connection. Your hands spanned the extend of the scar. First, his arm, which he lifted a little to give you better access. Your fingerpads danced up his tricep, almost fascinated when it turned and flexed. Then, you moved up to his shoulder, gently brushing the lines of scar tissue and ghosting along the changes from light to dark skin. The juncture of his neck and shoulder seemed to get the worst of it; so dense was the hatchings of scar tissue you could scarcely see any unharmed skin at all. What could have made such marks? Could it have been something physical, or magical?

Leander couldn't take it anymore when your fingers wandered to where the scar wrapped around his throat. If he let you continue, he didn't think he'd be able to keep himself in check.

Quickly he took you hand in his, dismissing your worries by rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "Careful, sweetheart. We're supposed to be taking it easy. You can't rile me up like that."

Shame made you retreat. Getting off the bed, you moved to gather the unused materials and set them across the room. Your back was to Leander, and yet, though he made no sounds, you could sense him closing the distance behind you. It made the back of your neck break out in tingles and shivers. You could feel the heat from his bare chest at your back when you stood.

For a moment you didn't dare move, acutely aware of the imposing figure behind you. It made your skin zing.

Leander all but whispered your name into your ear. When you turned, somehow expecting danger, all he did was take your arm in his hands and move to inspect the cut you'd sustained.

"Can you tell me what happened?" He asked.

You swallowed in an attempt to ease the dryness at the back of your throat. "I - the guy, from before, he. . ."

For a moment you thought about lying. To ease his worries, to get this over with, to satiate some irrational fear that getting him angry would have dire consequences, who knew, but in the end you decided the truth would be best.

"They saw me with Ais. Wanted to teach me a lesson, I guess? They saw the bandages - I told them not to, I did - but they unwound them. When they saw my curse, they tried to - to cut off my arm, as a trophy."

You couldn't meet his eyes. It surprised even you how nonchalant you sounded. After all, this wasn't the first time someone had something like that; it wasn't even the worst you'd heard.

Suddenly Leander took you in his arms and pulled you into his chest, arms deftly securing you against him. You were shocked, to say the least, and rigid. Only when he rubbed your back and you'd gotten a chance to inhale his scent did you manage to relax.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner. I can't imagine what that must have been like. If I could, I'd never let out of my sight."

That would be impossible. You knew that, and yet, the sentiment alone was enough to force you into a moment of vulnerability.

Nestling into his skin should have been embarrassing, but he merely held you tighter when you did it.

"I think you can imagine." You said, muffled into his skin. He pulled away, fixing you with a look of confusion, head tilted in question, until he saw your eyes glancing at his scar.

"Oh, this?" He tried to brush off with a laugh. "Its really not that bad. I just-"

Leander stopped. When you looked at him, you saw that he'd begun staring off into space, unmoving except for the rapidly increasing rate of his breathing. His eyes didn't move even when you called his name. Then, they began to glow. At first you weren't sure, but now, without a doubt, you watched them brighten until they were as intense as candlelight. With one touch of your skin to his, he erupted into an explosions of movement.

His hand flew up to cover his nose and mouth and he turned away, creating space however he could. You tried to bring him back to face you, to help however you could, only for him to snatch his hand away.

"Don't touch me!"

Pain tore at your heart. "Leander? I don't understand? Did I do something-"

"No!" He interrupted, his face obscured by his hand and the hair falling over his eyes. "You didn't - just - you need. . ."

"Need to do what? Should I get someone?"

"No, no. I'll be fine. You need to leave, now."

Kicking you out of your own room? You'd never seen him act anywhere near as bad as this. It was such a turn that you didn't even think this was a way to somehow be rid of you. If it was, there'd be no way his pain and anguish would be this believable. His shoulder line rose and fell swiftly, like he was laboring every breath. He'd begun to shake violently, too. Despite his words, you didn't make ay attempt to leave. He'd done so much for you. How could you leave him in a clear state of distress?

Just as quickly as he regressed, Leander now settled into a calm stillness. The breathing and shaking disappeared entirely. Too calm. This was too calm. The hairs all over your body rose defensively. You backed away when he stood back up to his full height. Even if you wanted to leave, he was now between you and the door. No place to go, no way to bring back the caring soul that had left you behind.

Shakily, you ventured one word into the open air, realizing you were giving yourself up to the creature across from you. "Leander?"

[cookie-crumblr]

Hype Train!

F! Streamer Reader x M!Yandere Streamer OC

Part 2~

His Info: 📹✨

Part: 1 2 3

!!!MINORS DNI!!!

CW: !F reader, use of she/her when referring to reader, reader has a vagina, extortion, pet names not given by ML (kitten, good girl), little angsty possibly?, smut will start in the next part!🐶✨!

“Sup Jazzy” his own voice says to him.

“Sup Devvy, how’re you and Issac?”

“Awww, did you just call cause you missed us?” they say in an mocking tone, their voice changing to one of their own mid way through the sentence.

“Always, but that’s not why I called.” He sends a copy of some of your cat cam footage that he sped watched through. “I just need the name of the dick hole at 57:32. I’d do it myself but I don’t want to look that thing up on my work computer.”

“Ooooo! I see why you need that info. She’s mine and Issac’s type too… Sent!”

“Thanks. This still doesn’t pay me back by the way.”

“Figures, I am using your face and all.”

“Yeah ‘nd my face is hot. You’ll owe me for a long time you filthy fuckin’ sadist.”

“Takes one to know one,” they say through a smirk. “Hey Jasper,” their head tilts in curiosity, “your girl just left her building…”

“What?” He pulls up some of the other cameras in the building to look. The second floor has a bling camera that pinged it’s owner’s phone just now.

Sure enough you’re seen walking down the stairs in front of that door. You have a baking pan in hands with one birthday candle sticking out of what looks like chocolate cake.

“Why is she going out at this time? it’s like 3am for her. Has she done this before? does she always bring cake, and nothing else?”

Not even a second passes, “Looks like once a month. She goes out at two-ish, I followed her through the ground cameras to a factory. Sending all footage from the last time now. And coordinates for current active cameras near the perceived destination.”

“Shit. A factory?! What could she possibly be doing at a place like that at three in the fucking morning. That’s so dangerous. Watch her until she gets home. And I don’t know, fucking, blow somethin’ up if shit starts to go down. I have to take a flight. ‘Nd, don’t go outside for a while, unless you get a new face in the meantime.”

“Awww, but I like your face,” they pout.

“Me too! Just kidnap someone for a minute, and deal with it. jeeze. You’ll figure it out.”

“Or I could—”

“Bye Dev.in, i’ll be in contact, and if something happens to her, you’re never getting out of my contract.”

“I hate being indebted to a filthy fucking sadist like you.” they fake a sigh, not actually upset.

“Takes one to know one.” Jasper hangs up abruptly, already packing up three laptops, and their accessories to go.

Sure enough, you’ve walked all the way to a factory at 3am.

You’re running a little late tonight…

He can wait… You think.

He’s already extorting you double, almost triple your rent now.

He can wait.

“Fuck!” You hurry.

All you brought is that stupid hollow cake filled with a plastic bag of cash, and a lighter. Like always.

Eventually you get there, none the wiser that you’re being watched over by a sort of guardian angel this time.

They invisibly follow as you swerve through dark alley ways. You take slightly different routes every time.

Dev.in sits watching, waiting, finding everything nearby that they could hack if they need to cause a distraction to hopefully save you if it comes to that.

You’ve done this so many times before, usually just out of a camera’s reach.

They get into the satellites, replaying footage, as it is unfolding in real time, comparing.

On more than one time you’ve gotten attacked.

Jasper isn’t going to like that.

He already doesn’t approve of this.

You hobble dazedly to the ER when that happens, but you still go to the drop off point first.

What could be more important or scary than that, that you’d not see a doctor first?

The satellite and the real time footage all play out similarly:

You meet the same man.

He grabs you

He kisses you on the cheek.

You light the candle.

He blows it out.

He leans in to say something into your ear.

You walk either home, or to the hospital depending.

Dogs are out barking viciously nearby.

You don’t even flinch at any of this anymore.

This has been going on for more than a year it seems.

What is in that cake?

“The cake you wanted.” You shift uncomfortably, holding the pan out in offering. “And sorry I was running a little late.”

“It’s okay,” He gives you that smile that sends a freezing chill right down into your bones. “things happen,” He shrugs.

He kisses you on the cheek, and leans further to tell you how much you owe them next month and the day he wants you to come.

His menthol cigarette scent makes you nauseous the closer he gets to you.

Intrusive and rough hands grope up your arms and one rests now under your chin.

He makes you feel filthy.

You’re grimacing.

“I trust you Kitten, besides… you know i’ll get my money one way or another.” His grip tightens and your face scrunches harder. “You’d hate to go back into the pit right? Now go on home and be a good girl until we meet again…” his grip is so tight you stifle a whine.

You turn and walk away again. Keeping your pace even, and your head held high.

You almost blend into the underground world.

Almost.

A man with a blade that glints in the cameras is following you back home.

While you fiddle with the main door’s lock and your keys, your hands tremble, displaying how terrified you really are.

Dev.in starts a car parked directly behind you.

You manage to stumble inside while the guy is distracted.

You lean against the inside of the front door, a relieved, and beyond stressed sigh leaves your chest.

Then you head upstairs, fatigued just like every time prior.

You have a fitful rest, filled to the brim with nightmares that constantly wake you up, panting and clutching your chest.

The dawn finally comes. The sun is more than welcome as it shines through the slits between your blackout curtains.

You jump out of bed, not wanting to try and sleep any longer.

You have today off work, thank goodness.

As soon as your computer is on, and dipcord is open, you get a DM, “Hey! Sorry I had to suddenly leave last night! getting a little overworked rn. Wanna VC soon?”

You call him this time.

The longer it rings, the harder your heart pounds.

“Hey there, Y/N, I forgot to tell you somethin’ last night.”

“Oh really?” You try not to sound nervous, or stressed but he can hear it all in your sleepy inflections.

“I have a meet up comin’ up soon!” He didn’t until last night though. “It’s in (a city near you), is that close to you at all? My viewers have been begging me to bring you since they met you!” He isn’t wholly lying, they really do love you already.

“What?! really!” your excitement overpowers you precarious emotional state, “That’s actually super close to me! I think I can afford the trip…” You sigh, remembering work, “Wait, um what day…?”

He frowns, his heart spreading a tingling sharp pain all the way down to his left hand, “I-I can change it! i-if you can’t make the day! when are your days off next month?”

“No!” ops, that came out a little too loud, “Uh, no, sorry. I can’t have you do that. I mean, what if your viewers already changed their schedule?” You sigh.

He hasn’t even told them yet, nobody’s schedule can be impacted.

He scrubs the footage from the bling camera downstairs to see your schedule quickly, you seem to have one day off a week… What the fuck? He thinks… And so much overtime, how little are they paying you?

“Jasper…?”

“Oh sorry! i only got like three hours of sleep last night,” he chuckles”

“Oh no! that’s not good, you should try and nap after this!” you sound so genuinely stressed for him. His pain evaporates.

“It’s on Tuesday the 12th. Is that doable?”

You sigh in relief, “Yes! I actually can! that’s so cool! it falls right on one of my days off!” Your gut flips, something feels so off…

Maybe it’s just the residual feeling from last night?

“Awesome! I’ll definitely be takin’ that nap soon then,” he laughs such a perfect and easy laugh, it somehow eases your entire being beyond belief.

Tears start prickling your eyes, and he hears your tiny sniffle.

“Is somethin’ the matter Y/N?” His voice is so gentle again. he makes you imagine a summer morning in a sprawling golden field. It’s like sun on your skin for the first time in so long…

Yes. God yes. your life. That’s what’s wrong. How the fuck did you get in half the predicaments you’re currently in? “No,” You fake a yawn, “I’m just a little sleepy, I guess we’re in the same boat there!” you let out a laugh that sounds more strained than you wanted.

You can’t cry yet.

Don’t cry yet.

Please.

Do. Not. cry.

I’m gonna take a nap too! sorry I-I have to go!” Your voice cracks, “sleep well, Jasper…”

You hang up without giving him a chance to say anything more. Without the chance to catch you.

and the second that app is closed, your dam bursts.

You feel like screaming, and you feel hoarse like you already have been.

How long ago was the last time you’ve cried?

The last time you’ve even felt safe enough to cry.

“Jazzy! my man-”

“Dev, I need ya to black this entire town out for an hour.”

[milimeters-morales]

chapter 6 of my transfem miles fic :3

Chap 1 / Chap 2 / Chap 3 / Chap 4 / Chap 5 / Chap 7

Wordcount: 4k+

Warnings: None! But a non-binary character does talk about getting jumped!

CONFESSION PLAN:

Tell Peter and twin

Survive

???

Profit

(Note: If dead, warn Ganke through haunting)

____

Miles doesn’t plan on fighting while he’s out, and he honestly doesn’t even need it if he does, but he changes into his now-dried suit and a jacket anyway before opening a portal to Peter’s dimension.His parents, sound asleep in their bed after dinner, won’t even realize he left. He folds his paper and tucks it away in his pocket, lightly slapping the sides of his face as he’s shot through the portal and into a water tower. 

Groaning in annoyance, he stands up, taking a good look around. Peter’s dimension is only half an hour ahead of his own, so the man should still be out. Unless he’s watching Mayday tonight? 

“I’ll just go check his house,” he mumbles, rubbing his face. He doesn’t want to wake Mrs. Watson at all, much less Mayday if they just got her to sleep, but he’s on a time crunch. He needs to get this done before 12, or else that would be breaking his promise, even if Ganke didn’t actually have to know if he gets it done around two… which was shamefully tempting. 

But he could do this. His anxiety was just making him fear every possible bad outcome, and didn’t even allow room for any possibly good outcome, or even consider the long term effects of being honest despite the bad outcomes. He knows this, he’s a really emotionally intelligent guy, or whatever.

Honestly, though? That means jack when he’s still not brave enough to actually confront those emotions. That changes tonight, for sure. He can do this!

He camouflages as he’s swinging, landing in the family’s front yard with a quiet thump. Gross, the grass is wet.

Crawling to the windows, he tries to find any lights already on, sighing when it’s all dark in the house. The blinds are closed on all of them too, so he can’t see inside. Putting his ear to several points on the walls only reveals two heartbeats calm and steady with sleep. 

So Peter is still out, then. He can’t just wait here until the man shows up, who knows when that would be?  

Crawling onto the roof, he sits and frustratedly rubs at his face. Bringing his knees up to his chest, he tries to make a more detailed plan. Peter’s currently not at his house and there’s no way of telling when he’d be back, and Miles can’t search all of Queens in under… an hour, he needs an hour for Peter and G., even with his spider-sense guiding him to where the man could be if he got in range. 

“So… okay, wait, I can call him,” Miles mumbles. If Peter doesn’t answer, he could go to Earth-42 and try his luck there, his alternate self definitely wasn’t going to be asleep… but it would be even harder to find the other boy since there’s not even a spider-sense to help guide him…

Peter picks up on the second ring, sounding out of breath. “Hey bud! Kind of busy right now! Can it be quick?”

Miles can be quick. Rip the bandaid off, for real this time.

“Peter, I have something super-- EXTREMELY important to tell you.”

“How important are we talking? Scale of one to ten, oh darn--” Peter’s cut off by mad cackling that Miles doesn’t recognize, must be a villain losing it. He hears Peter coughing and his heart speeding up.

“Do you need help?” Miles asks him, standing up, grimacing at the realization the roof was wet too. Double gross.

“No buddy, all good here! Aaalll good, c’mon, what were you saying?”

You’ve already told him once before, you can do it again. He’s already promised to not tell.

Miles inhales deeply, pushing past the giant wave of terror-- okay, no, he’s not going to lie. He’s still terrified, and those rocks in his stomach are trying to burn a hole through his stomach and spill his innards all over this roof tile. Triple gross. 

Confessing better get them out, Miles doesn’t even know what he’d do if he had to carry their weight and shame with him any longer.

“Buddy? You good?”

But what if it’s all for nothing? What if this honesty doesn’t get rid of any of his fears, what if this only makes them worse if it goes poorly?

Miles exhales, letting the coming waves hit him full force, saltwater filling his lungs.

“Miles--”

“I’m gay.”

It burns. Horribly. He knew it, he knew it all along, and he still confessed.

“Whu-- Yeah, I knew that already, remember?”

The rocks seem to gain sharp edges out of nowhere, making him sit back down and try to catch his breath. There’s too much on his body, and the water is still on the roof, and it’s all so gross. He’s gross. Admitting being gay didn’t help at all, all it did was give Peter confirmation, it gave him reason to hate him. 

“Your heartbeat is all fast, is everything alright?”

He could be on his way to beat us to death , a voice whispers in his head, you know what happens to boys like us.

Please, just stop , Miles begs the voice, tears escaping and freely flowing down his cheeks.

“Miles, where are you? Are you at home? I hear crickets-- are you outside?”

What a brave-hearted hero, risking it all , the voice whispers, trying to smother his actual voice of reason, you’re going to get Ganke killed.

“Stop, he wouldn’t…” Miles breathes out, digging his nails into his leg. He has to focus.

“Kid, please tell me where you are.” Peter tells him, a hint of urgency in his tone.

Look, he still cares, Miles thinks, he doesn’t hate me. I didn’t ruin anything! Nothing bad happened!

With pain in his leg clearing the fog of anxiety that was beginning to overtake his mind, Miles takes another deep breath in and exhales loudly.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m… I’m on your roof right now,” he tells him, coughing harshly into his elbow at the end.

“The roof?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright buddy, how about you stand on the porch instead? Much more stable than the roof, trust me. My ankle last month can attest to that.”

Miles chuckles wetly, and wipes at his face. “Yeah, okay. You, um, you’re not like… mad at me or anything…?”

“No, buddy, I’m not mad. I told you I knew already, remember? You accidentally told me.”

Miles jumps off the roof and lands safely on the grass, dropping his camouflage and waiting by the front door. He could get away with the cosplay excuse if some random person is nearby and curious enough, hopefully. “I know, I just… I had to tell somebody, and I thought telling you on purpose would make me feel better.”

“Well, did it?” Peter asks him. 

Miles thinks of the horrible possibilities his brain was pushing to the forefront of his mind. He thinks of how the rocks in his stomach are waiting for the man to show up and lash out after luring him into a false sense of security. He thinks about the stinging pain in his leg, all to just focus on not drowning in his fears that even he knows are too much and too unrealistic.

“Nah,” he answers, taking in a shaky breath.

“Well… that’s okay, bud. I was scared too.”

“What? Scared of what?” Miles asks, turning around when he hears a familiar heartbeat come closer.

Peter lands softly on the grass and ushers Miles inside.

“It sounded like you were about to confess to a murder, or something,” the man chuckles as he locks the door behind him. “Or… y’know,” Peter makes a weird motion, pointing up then down, so Miles very much doesn’t know.

“Oh,” Miles says, taking a look around the dark living room. “I can’t stay, Peter. I have to go to G. next.”

“You seem really shaken up, are you sure?” Peter asks him. “Are you gonna come out to him too?”

Miles nods wordlessly, and rubs at his face. “Hopefully. He was actually the one I was supposed to tell, so you’re like… practice, kind of.”

Really awful practice.

Something in Peter’s stance and gaze hardens, and every voice Miles was holding at bay started to howl out the very anxiety that created them. This is it , they cry, we told you!

“Miles,” the man begins, and Miles finds himself agreeing with those voices at the steely tone he hears, “when you say ‘supposed to’, is someone making you do this?”

And that’s… a complicated question. One he certainly wasn’t expecting.

“Is that what you’re worried about?” he asks, forcing his shoulders to relax. It doesn’t work, they hike back up the tiniest bit.

Peter sits down at the small dining room table, folding his hands on it in front of him. “Yeah bud, you shouldn’t feel forced to come out to people. If someone’s making you do that--”

Miles stops him right there. “No no no, you’re making it sound really bad. He’s not doing that, I’m just not being… a really great guy right now. Ganke doesn’t like-- he’s actually never liked us being a secret. So, we agreed that I’ll tell G., but I couldn’t… so I’m telling you, so I can say I told someone, and maybe be prepared.”

Peter stares at him, lips pressed into a thin line. “You feel prepared?”

Miles lets out a humorless laugh, “No, no.”

Peter continues staring at him, and Miles briefly glances down to see that he camouflaged again without even noticing. 

“I really gotta go,” he mumbles, making his way towards the front door. 

“Wait, kid, why not just take a few minutes to calm down? Sit on the c-- actually, sit at the table, don’t get my cushions wet,” Peter walks over and gently places a hand on his shoulder, guiding him to a chair. “So, why didn’t this help?”

Miles shrugs, “Iunno.” He supposes it should’ve shown him that nothing bad was likely to happen, but… he knew that. It just didn’t convince all of his brain, apparently. “Hey, we can talk later, I have to get this done tonight.”

“You have a time crunch too? Miles, this doesn’t sound--”

Miles doesn’t really have time for what it sounds like. He knows what it is, what the possible outcomes are if he fails, and… it’s all… none of it makes sense. It clashes, it mixes, it contradicts, it supports each other and the rocks in his stomach. He now knows, with Peter’s reaction, the worst possible outcomes that are at the forefront of his mind aren’t likely, but he can’t do anything about the “what if” that hangs heavy on his shoulders.

What if , a voice speaks up, he’s stalling? What if he’s pretending?

He isn’t, stop it , Miles scowls, and hopes Peter doesn’t think it’s directed at him. Well, it’s not even like he can see Miles, so why was he even worried about that? 

Why was he worried about any of this? He should be worried about Ganke feeling hurt by still being hidden from his boyfriend’s family and closest friends, not what Peter, some middle-aged man with an entire life and family of his own, thinks. He should be worried about Ganke feeling like their relationship can’t work anymore, and leaving him for some Barbara who probably exists. 

“Kid, are you… angry? You’re buzzing a bit louder than usual,” Peter’s voice from behind asks him.

“Dunno,” Miles mumbles, stepping outside and opening a portal. Peter, fortunately, doesn’t follow.

____

Being on Earth-42 is infinitely more calming than being on Earth-1610B, but somehow also just as stressful. 

Miles checks his watch. Forty minutes until 12, but he can work with that. G. is himself, so he’s bound to be painfully aware of the time while he’s out as the Prowler. He’ll understand the urgency for sure.

“Speak of the devil,” Miles mutters when he sees a brief flash of magenta out of the corner of his eye, followed by a rapidly approaching heartbeat. 

“We have to stop meeting like this,” G. says with an exaggerated shrug after he lands quietly in front of Miles..

“That joke doesn’t work here,” Miles mumbles.

“Yes it does--”

“Remember that thing I was gonna tell you? On the roof?”

“The thing you didn’t tell me? After freaking out about Barbara?”

Miles frowns angrily at the reminder. “Yes. Listen, it’s really important.” He takes a deep breath, feeling a shiver go through his shoulders and down his spine, and blurts it out, painful as ever. “I’m gay and dating our roommate.”

“Your roommate,” G. corrects, sharp white eyelights widening slightly, and he places his hands on his hips in a way that’s almost scarily reminiscent of their mom. “Is that seriously all you wanted to tell me?”

Miles stares at him, trying to stop the waterworks before they begin and calm the panic that’s rapidly climbing. It’s probably working. The voices that like to talk about how he’s made a huge mistake and won’t wake up tomorrow are strangely quiet, maybe it’s because he’s basically talking to himself?

“Hey,” G. says, sighing, “look, I really don’t care. Good on you. Go home now, you look like you’re about to faint.” 

“I don’t get it,” Miles mumbles.

“What’s new,” G. shrugs.

“Shut up.” The playful jab is like poking a hole in a tire, and Miles can feel a tiny part of his mind clearing. “I meant that I expected… worse. Y’know… yelling. Running away. Fighting.”

G. shakes his head and his eyelights flatten into a line as he waves a hand around in the air, looking for the words he wanted to use. “I know. I honestly expected worse too. I’m-- wait, you don’t want me to tell anybody, right?” 

The weight that was slowly lifting from his shoulders slams back down, forcing a breath out.

“Taking that as a no,” G. says, “take a few breaths. Think logically about this, man.” G. takes a few steps closer until he’s an arm’s length away. “You could probably beat me in a fight if this went wrong. And if I was the type, I wouldn’t gain anything from telling people that you, a guy who shares my name and appearance, is gay. That would be pretty strange and useless, right? Pretty stupid?”

Miles nods once and swallows hard. His legs are slowly trying to camouflage in messy patches, he notices.

“Don’t go all Swiss cheese on me,” G. chuckles, placing a clawed hand on his shoulder. “I know that just saying ‘I accept you’ isn’t gonna convince you.”

Miles nods again, slowly relaxing his shoulders and resisting the urge to bite at something. That’s one of the things he likes about G., having basically a copy of yourself to comfort you means that they know exactly how you’re thinking, and what would and probably wouldn’t work with way more certainty than anybody else. 

“But… why do you think I’m not really surprised?” G. asks, tapping his temple. “Think about it. But don’t hurt yourself.”

Miles’s eyes widen, knowing his lenses are taking up most of his face at this point. 

No way.

There’s-- there’s--

“No way,” he breathes out, feeling a sort of warm, pleasant feeling spread through the top half of his body. His hands slowly stop shaking, and he doesn’t feel like the ground is about to collapse under him. “No way!”

G.’s eyelights squint, and Miles hopes he’s smiling. 

“But…” Miles remembers G.’s words from earlier, “what about Barbara? You said you liked her?”

The other boy removes his hand, taking a step back and looking around, “Yeah, but y’know how it is. Sometimes you like girls, sometimes you like guys.”

“So you’re… bi?”

“No? I’m-- we’re gay, but sometimes you see a woman and she’s… y’know,” G. elaborates. 

Nodding rapidly, the rush of being understood in a way most people would never be able to experience like this flowing through his veins, Miles agrees with a shaky smile. “Yeah, I mean… there’s this-- you remember how it felt meeting Margo, right?”

G. puts his hands on his hips and tilts his head to the sky.

“Right!” Borderline-hysterical laughter coming from Miles shocks them both. “Sorry, I just-- I thought this was gonna go so horribly, I’m just so-- super excited!”

G. nods his head and fidgets with a strap on his jacket, and man, he’s moving around a lot more than usual. Does he have somewhere to be? Probably. Maybe his mom is gonna go to work soon? Those are weird hours though, maybe his Aaron needs something?

“Sorry, again, I’ll just,” Miles holds up his watch with a wide smile, “I’ll let you go.”

“Right, right. Be easy, man.” With that, G. runs past, leaping onto the side of a building and darting up to disappear over the top, leaving a faint pink light trail behind him.

Miles tries to school his expression, but his mouth refuses to drop the smile no matter how hard he tries. His limbs have a sort of lightness to him, and feels like he can run a marathon. Scratch that, several marathons. The electricity in his legs is practically howling at him to start running until he collapses, all out of joy and without the expected crowd of voices telling him how badly he fucked up.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt so good in his life!

Making sure nobody was secretly watching him, Miles shakes his hands at his sides, running in place. He then kneels down on one knee, and launches himself high into the air, twirling slowly. The air rushes past him, the wind rushing down his body feeling like a hug he’s been missing.

There’s no trace of the overwhelming fear, the anger, or even any sort of begrudging acceptance of a hatred that evidently was never going to blow up in his face. He felt like light was trapped inside his body. Closing his eyes, Miles lets some of it run through his arms and out of his finger tips, creating mini-sparklers on their ends. A quick burst through his legs sends him tumbling higher into the air, and he flails his arms legs wildly, unable to hold in the energy any longer. The flailing lasts a few seconds before he’s rocketing back down to the roof, pressure suddenly returning with the wind. The sparks at his fingers and feet fizz out, leaving light trails in the air.

He’s like a comet as he spins down onto the roof, quickly flipping at the last second to land feet-first instead of cracking his head open on the cement. That would be such an embarrassing concussion.

Landing with a bit more force than he meant to, Miles starts to giggle quietly as leftover electricity spreads from below him and spiderwebs out before fading completely. 

“Okay, okay,” he breathes out, trying to calm himself. He opens a portal back to his universe, being spat out behind some grocery store, for some reason. He didn’t leave here, why did--

A fast heartbeat and quiet sniffles have him snapping his head to the side, eyes landing on a kid leaning on a wall and crying. 

“Hey, you okay?” Miles asks softly, not moving from his spot. 

The kid startles hard, eyes wide as he- … um, they, Miles decides on- stare at Miles.

“Y- yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” they say, voice shaky. Miles can see their hands shaking, and even with little moonlight reaching the alley, their eyes shine wetly. One is more closed than the other.

“That a black eye?” Miles asks as he takes a tentative step forward. “Someone punched you?”

The kid crosses their arms and curls in on themself a bit, nodding. “Got jumped.”

“Oh, man. You know them, or…?”

The kid shakes their head, “Just some guys from school.”

Miles’s eyes widen. Guys, as in multiple? “Dang, how many? You look like you ain’t let them do much besides that eye.”

There’s a quiet snort, and Miles internally cheers. “Like, five. Teacher was coming, so they ran.”

“Five? Holy…well, good on you for standing your ground,” Miles laughs quietly, taking a few more steps. “I can walk you home, if you’d like?”

The kid is quiet for a few moments. “Really?”

Miles nods, and realizing it might be too dark, says yes. 

“Sure, that would be cool. I’m Kenneth,” the kid says, walking towards Miles.

“I’m Spider-Man,” he replies.

“No way, really?” 

They both chuckle as they make their way onto the street, weaving through the few others heading to their own destinations. 

“So, why’d they jump you? Was it money?” Miles asks casually, hoping it wasn’t too personal to share.

“Man, I wish,” Kenneth sighs, “they just… they don’t like people like me.”

Racists? Miles turns his head, ready to offer his support, but Kenneth continues, “The way I dress, my hobbies… stuff like that.” Their voice trails off near the end. “They make fun of my designs a lot, threaten to rip all the clothes I make.”

Oh, Miles thinks, feeling even more upset. “You been dealing with that long?”

“Kinda,” Kenneth nods. “I usually win, though.”

Now that they’re walking under the streetlights, Miles can actually make out Kenneth’s appearance. They’re wearing a purple sweater and denim jacket, a somewhat long black skirt, and some sneakers that are so customized that Miles has trouble figuring out the exact type they are. Of course, to top it all off, Kenneth is sporting a busted lip in addition to that black eye. He doesn’t like to think about what else they deal with when they don’t win.

“You said you make clothes?” Miles asks, high-fiving someone passing by.

“Yeah! I-- do you wanna see? I have some pictures on my phone,” Kenneth pulls out a phone with a cracked screen, and Miles looks away until it’s moved closer to his face. “I made these shoes for a friend, this dress, this-- well, I’m actually wearing that jacket right now!”

“Ooh, is that like a jean-skirt deal? I really like that one,” Miles tells them, already getting ideas of figure drawings he could add these clothes too. “You got some real skill!”

Kenneth beams, not even wincing a tiny bit at the pain that the pull on their lip must cause, and thanks Miles. 

“I don’t design clothes or nothin’, but I draw a lot too. Artist to artist, you seriously could make a career outta this,” Miles tells him, “don’t let those fools try and convince you otherwise.”

“That’s what my mom says,” Kenneth says, smile softening into something that feels a bit too private for Miles to just be seeing, “I’m glad you’re chill. And that you like my work, this is probably one of the coolest things that’s ever happened to me.”

Miles nods, “No yeah, I’m totally chill.” Wait, that sounds like a lie! “Like, having that type of hate in your heart is just so strange anyway.” Totally saved it! “And your designs have some real character, the creativity you got is crazy, ma-” Shoot! “--my buddy.”

Kenneth laughs at him, “You--” Miles tries to not let his teeth start grinding in embarrassment at the other teen’s laughter, “--you tried, it’s fine. I know you didn’t mean it. They/them, by the way.”

Miles breathes out a sigh of relief. “Still, sorry, force of habit. Call everyone that, y’know? My bad though,” he stumbles through the apology, “and, uh…”

He’s never had to tell someone his pronouns before. Spider- MAN doesn’t really leave a lot of room for speculation, and he thinks he’s pretty obviously a guy. Well, masculine. Wait, no, because he knows it doesn’t always work like that for people, but… he’d think people would refer to their default when they see him, hear his voice, the name--

“You don’t have to tell me yours,” Kenneth pipes up when he’s been quiet too long. “No pressure or nothing. This is me,” they say, pointing to a brownstone entrance with a woman in just her pajamas sitting on the steps. 

“Kenneth!” She cries out, rushing down to embrace the teen in a fierce hug. “Baby, those boys got you again? Oh, come on, let's get inside.” 

“Ma, give me a second,” Kenneth whispers, half-heartedly returning the hug as they try to gesture to Miles. 

“Did you find them?” The woman doesn’t let go, instead just picking her head up and very coolly glaring at him.

“Yes ma’am,” Miles says, deepening his voice and placing his hands on his hips, “I was worried, so I walked them home.”

“Thank you.” She gives a small, tense smile, and Miles can’t blame her. It is a pretty tense situation! 

“Yeah, thanks!” Kenneth’s smile is much bigger and warm as they wave goodbye.

“Buenas noches!” Miles calls before swinging away.

____

Later, as he’s lying in bed, his mind drifts to Kody. He never asked their pronouns, should he have? No, right? That would be putting them on the spot. He didn’t ask Kenneth, he just went based on appearance just like with Kody, and they had offered up that information. 

Should he start using they/them for everybody? That way he isn’t unintentionally offending anybody? That would be a lot of work, and he knows he’d mess it up a lot… kind of like being Spider-Man! 

Shifting to scratch a scab on his leg, he thinks of how he faltered when he tried to tell Kenneth to use he/him. People always-- well, until recently, he was never seen as anything other than a guy, obviously. He’s pretty manly, his voice is supposed to get deeper, he’s got some nice muscles, and he’s almost taller than his dad. He’s definitely taller than his mom.

He stops scratching his leg and stares at it, bare of any hair. 

It’s not like pronouns make the person. And it’s not like shaving doesn’t make him any less masculine. Not that anyone thought that, of course. Nobody even cares about that. Miles doesn't even care about that.

Those kids that jumped Kenneth would probably care , he thinks, they sound like the type to think any small difference deserves a beatdown… what was I thinking about? 

Right, pronouns. He should feel more confident using he/him, but there’s some weird, vague hesitation when there should be a brief acknowledgement so casual that it’s barely there. Not a feeling of wrongness per se, but something similar to forgetting what you walked into a room for.

This probably requires a bit more thought than he really wanted to give at this time of night. He did what he had to do, and now he can go to Ganke with the good news, and Ganke will be so happy and won’t leave because Miles is finally being the best boyfriend to him. There isn’t much reason to stay awake any longer.

Miles puts on his headphones and resumes his video, drifting off to sleep.

A/N: lowkey wish i cared enough to figure out how to format the text in the exact way i wanted bc there's a text message part coming up that i put on opposite sides of the doc to make it clear who's talking 💔 anyway... YAY KENNETH !!! They're gonna be appearing more often, and is NOT one of the characters that don't appear again but Miles can't stop thinking about. dw kennethheads miles is the queen of unknowingly befriending trans people and becoming their fav.

[loosepocketchange01]

BATMAN FIGURE SKATING AU BATMAN FIGURE SKATING AU

———————

Break the ice

———————

Heel to toe.

Heel to toe.

Wait for it.

Don’t rush it.

Don’t slow down.

Don’t lean out.

Keep in.

Heel to toe.

Don’t wipe out.

The only thoughts repeating in Jason’s head are like a mantra. The moment his skate hit the ice again, he knew it wasn’t right even before Bruce called out.

“You’re pre-rotating! Don’t skid your takeoff, keep it clean!”

The man began skating over to him, giving Jason only a moment to prepare for the disappointment in Bruce’s expression. When he finally stopped in front of him, Jason was surprised to find there was none, only the face of a man deep in thought. When their eyes met, it was hard for him not to look away. It was as though Bruce was studying him, trying to find out what made him tick.

“Jason…”

He swallowed. “Coach?”

“Is something, say, bothering you? Distracting you maybe?”

Aw hell, he seriously thought it was because he wasn’t focused? It was hard to get a jump like that when your whole life depends on it, why couldn’t Bruce just understand?

“Nah, B. I’m good. Probably something up with my skates. Actually, ya know what? I’ll just go retie ’em real quick.”

“Jason-“

“Don’t worry, Bruce! It’ll only be a sec!” And Jason was already speeding off the ice and into the locker rooms.

Dumping himself onto a bench, he took a moment to catch his breath. Head leaning against the wall behind him, the cool brick— or whatever it was— felt like heaven against his sweaty hair. Jason’s eyes shut for a moment, replaying the sequence in his head.

He needed that double axel. If he didn’t get the 2A, then he’d never get the 3A. If Jason doesn’t land that 3A in competition, Bruce won’t see the point in keeping him. He couldn’t fail, not when everything depended on it.

Life at the manor made him realize just how much he lacked living with Willis and on the streets. The man earned just enough to fund Jason’s skating and his mother’s addiction but fell short completely in the parenting apartment. The goal before he was arrested was to take the total share of Jason’s money from sponsors and place rewards. Before.

Bruce was like a father to him even before he was adopted. Constantly saying how proud he was of Jason, hugging him when he reached a milestone, and even celebrating his 11th birthday when Willis forgot.

He was 14 now and still didn’t have his double axel. Jason wasn’t stupid. He knew people took years to get their double and triple A. It didn’t matter. If Jason wasn’t skating, if he wasn’t winning, then Bruce wouldn’t see the point in keeping him around.

If only it wasn’t so hard, but no. It was always pre-rotated. Under-rotated. Over-rotated. Waxel. Check the arms. Nothing was ever right.

Except for the one time.

A perfect takeoff, 2.5 rotations, and a perfect landing. He’d done it all while he was sick and shown up to practice anyway, too delusional to think about his mental block and simply going for it without a care in the world besides the migraine in his head.

Bruce had cheered for him up until the moment he realized Jason had hidden being sick from him.

He did it once, why can’t he just do it again?

“Hey, JayBuddy!”

Jason nearly slammed his head against the wall as he jolted, eyes opening in a panicked array. His vision centered on Dick Grayson.

“Woah, hey, relax. Sorry I scared ya.” The smile never left his face.

Jason scowled.

Dick. Fucking. Grayson.

Possibly the worst part about living with Bruce was his other kid. The ever-annoying man never knew when to stop teasing, and made his disdain for Jason obvious. Dick didn’t even live with Bruce anymore, but he always made time to visit just to piss Jason off. This was even without the constant comparisons made by the man.

‘Struggling with your 2A, Jason? I could do my 3A at your age!’

Or

‘Oooo tough wipeout on your quad salchow. Ya know, that’s my signature jump.’

Jason hated the man, no matter how much the papers emphasized that they were brothers.

“What do you want, dickface.”

The older boy made an expression of mock offense, even going so far as to lay a hand over his heart.

“I’m wounded, Jason, truly. You realize this is a public locker room, right? I can be here if I want.”

Jason rolled his eyes, moving to redo the laces on his skates despite not needing to. He barely bit back the series of curses when he heard Dick set down his back beside him and take a seat to Jason’s left. He’d come to find that the best thing to do was to ignore him.

“Though, with how long that double is taking, I’d wanna hide too.”

But that would only work if Jason was good at ignoring people who pissed him off. He wasn’t.

Jason nearly stood right up before remembering that his laces were completely loose and setting himself back down. Dick’s cheery expression did little to hide the man’s malicious intentions.

“Fuck off, asshole! It’s not that easy!”

He set to work on the first pair of laces.

“Isn’t it? I got mine in a year. Less if you don’t include the times Bruce made me do it in a harness.”

Jason fumbled with the hooks in his anger, loosening the whole thing and having the start over.

“I guess that’s what you get for stealing my place while I was gone though.”

It had been a sore spot for both of them. After Bruce got Jason off the streets after 2 years of not seeing the boy, they were quick to return to training. When Dick returned from a sponsor trip abroad, he wasn’t the happiest upon seeing that some kid he didn’t know took all of his practice slots.

Jason willed himself not to let the liquid collecting in his eyes fall. He simply moved on to the next skate.

“That it? You’re not gonna argue back? Maybe tell me about how much of an ass I’m being again?”

It was getting harder to hide the quiver in his lip.

“None of your sarcastic responses?”

“What do you want me to say, Dick?” Nothing was more embarrassing to Jason than the shakiness of his own voice. He felt Dick’s shadow over him lean back and out of his space.

“What? Hey, kid. Are you crying?”

Jason tugged on the final knot of his laces and stood up, glaring at the stunned man through his blurry vision.

“I hate you! You don’t even know how lucky you are!”

Any part of the older man’s expression that showed guilt dissipated in a quick second, quick to fire back.

“And you aren’t? Don’t act like it’s so easy for me!”

And now Jason couldn’t stop himself from letting everything stream out, like a raging waterfall trying to escape from a stuttering source.

“You don’t have to fight for your home! You’re already B’s son! Why do I gotta fight to have a place to sleep? Nail every stupid jump and sequence or else Bruce is gonna send me back! And because you’re such an ass-, you just gotta rub it in my face! I get it, okay?” He cringed at how his voice cracked but pushed through anyway.

“I’m not good enough to be his kid!”

And finally, Dick had no more left to say, just the face of shock as Jason gathered his things and rushed out of the room.

There wasn’t time for Jason to dwell on it. He had a practice to return to.

As soon as he was a safe distance away from both Dick and Bruce, hidden in the corner by the water fountains and vending machines, Jason wiped away his tears and tugged his jacket back on.

And so after he returned, they ran through it again and again. There was always some mistake, some issue Jason couldn’t seem to get under control without a new one popping in. Fall after fall, failure after failure. By the time the whistle rang for them to clear the ice, Jason’s knees and elbows showed promise of nasty bruises for the next day.

He rushed to get his shoes on, cringing at the sight of his red ankles. Bruce was already waiting for him in the car and the rink was basically empty aside from the Zamboni driver on the ice.

Before he could push out of the locker room, a hand on his shoulder shoved him back in. Jason quickly regained his balance before he looked up to see who it had been.

“What the hell, Dick!” He nearly shrieked, ready to tear into the man. Before his mouth even opened, Dick cut him off.

“Sit down. We need to talk.”

Jason’s expression hardened. His eyes narrowed in on Dick’s equally serious ones.

“I got nothing to say to you.” He tried to go around the man but Dick’s hand fell on his shoulder again and pulled him back.

“Great. That means you’ll be able to listen.”

Jason scoffed, relenting. He sat down on the bench and folded his arms, Dick taking the seat across from him. He raised an eyebrow for the older man to speak.

“I think—you and I— we got off to a bad start,” he began, giving Jason a look before the boy could get out his sarcastic remark, “and there are some things we need to work through.”

“Now, I won’t sugarcoat it, Jason. I don’t like you, I don’t like that you’re in any part of my life.”

“FYI, just so you know, you’re doing a pretty shit job at ‘working things through.’”

Dick gave him a pointed look before Jason rolled his eyes and zipped it.

“But,” he continued, “you’re also still supposed to be my brother, and it was wrong of me to comment on your progress or why you were adopted. I was just trying to hit you where it hurts and I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry.”

Jason gaped at him, rushing to school his expression before urging Dick to continue. Clearly, the man still had more to say, what with the way he was nervously picking at his nails.

“About what you said earlier…the, uh, part about staying with Bruce. You- don’t tell me you seriously think you have to fight for a place to live.”

His expression tightened, and Jason had to resist the urge to snarl back a nasty reply.

“Oh, shi- crap. Jason.”

The way Dick was looking at him made Jason want to run away from the whole conversation. Like he felt bad. Like he cared.

The man got up from the bench to kneel in front of Jason.

“If you don’t believe anything else I say, Jay, then you have to believe this. Bruce would never make you fight to stay with him. No matter how long you take, how much you fall or make mistakes, Bruce will never send you away. He won’t kick you out, he won’t make you work for his love, and if you wanted to quit skating altogether, you’d still be his son all the same. Nothing could make him send you away, I promise you that.”

The tears began welling in Jason’s eyes halfway through, and he willed himself not to let them fall. Every word was spoken with the utmost sincerity, and yet…

“Jason,” Dick whispered, heartbroken.

“You don’t know that!” Jason shouted, hands tightly gripping his pants. “You don’t!”

Dick gently placed his hands on Jason’s shoulders, his calm, sad eyes meeting Jason’s frustrated, fearful ones.

“You have a home to stay, Jay. You have a family. One that loves you, and if there’s even the chance Bruce goes crazy and says something, you’ll call me and I’ll take care of it.”

The dam finally broke, and Jason threw himself the rest of the way into Dick’s arms, face burying into his chest. His brother’s arms were quick to wrap around him, fingers passing through Jason’s hair.

“Shh…I know..it’s okay, bud, you’re okay.”

Once the tears were wiped and they both pulled away from the hug, Dick promised him that he’d be there for Jason from then on, that he’d become the big brother that he needed. Jason would hold him to it.

——Junior World Championships, Paris, France——

“An astounding program from 14-year-old debuting skater Jason Todd! A beautifully balanced mix of artistry and elements, we have watched as this young boy has shown us the skating skill that many desire and cannot come to par with. The double Axel was gorgeous! Though, without it being a triple, some wonder if it’ll be enough to guarantee Todd gold.”

In short; it wasn’t. Jason had placed 3rd overall and ran straight to the empty lobby before the medal ceremony. Arms wrapped tightly around himself, Jason nearly slid to the ground before a pair of strong arms wrapped around his frame.

“Jason!”

It was just Dick. Hugging him. After Jason placed third.

“Dick, what-?”

“I’m so so proud of you! That was awesome!” Dick pulled back, excitement turning into confusion upon seeing Jason’s downcast face.

“Jay? What’s wrong?”

He shrugged, lip trembling but no signs of tears to be found.

“I didn’t win. I didn’t have a triple Axel in time. If I could’ve just gotten that jump, I would’ve won!”

Dick sighed, connecting the rest of the pieces. His hands remained on Jason’s shoulders, grounding him.

“Little Wing,” a nickname Dick had given them shortly after their first time getting ice cream after practice together, “do you remember what I told you?”

Jason slowly nodded, hanging his head down and refusing to look back at Dick.

“I know.” His voice was little more than a whisper. “Logically, I know. But I still…”

Dick brushed a hand through Jason’s hair. He understood. You could know something, repeating it over and over in your mind like a mantra that it was the truth, but there would always be something in the back of your mind. An evil voice filling your mind with bearish thoughts and false realities.

“If I say you did amazing, how did you do?”

“…good?”

“No.”

“…amazing.” Jason tried again, head lifting enough for Dick to see his face entirely again.

“Exactly. You did amazing, Jay.” He smiled, leaning down to kiss Jason’s hair.

“Now, come on. You have a medal ceremony coming up and I can’t wait to celebrate with Nachos!”

And when they walked back into the main area, and Bruce threw him into a bone-crushing hug and told Jason how proud he was, maybe he could finally start believing that he did have a home, one where he was loved no matter what.

[arkhamsrevenge]

Arkham Knight and the Queen of Hearts pt 1

TW - Torture

My skin was crawling with anticipation. Finally, after several weeks of carefully waiting and preparing. I’ve found him. Joker was going to finally be put down.   

The stinging of my cheek woke me up.   “Wakey up Queenie.” I opened my eyes and they focused on a clown. Joker. Great.  “I wanted to meet the kids that’s giving Batman a run for his money. He doesn’t seem to have time for me anymore.” He said holding my chin in his hand, forcing it up to look at him. I spat in his face. The Joker let go of me reeling back in surprise.  

I smiled politely.    

“That was very rude. I’m going to have to teach you some manners later.” I swallowed dryly. Taking in my surroundings I was able to see that I was in a basement. “You need to be reformed. Good thing I have room for one more.” The Joker than walked into the shadows only to return with a man, tired to a wheelchair with barbed wire. His face was bloody and bruised all over, dry blood mix with new blood stained his clothing (if you could even call it that anymore) and the wires digging into his flesh. I noticed the emblem on his chest. He’s another Robin. I fought the one who's running around with the bat. “Introduce yourself to her royal highness.” Joker beckoned the man. When silence followed Joker’s smile grew wider as he zapped the man with an electric pron. The man’s body tensed and jerked before releasing. His breath was heavy, 

“I’m....Jason.... Todd.” He was able to grit out through his teeth. Joker laughed and clapped his hands before gesturing to me.   “Now you my dear.”  

“You may call me Red.” I spoke. Joker tilted his head.  

“Red? Is that your real name? Or one you made up.” I remained silent. He waited then walked over to me pron in hand, then in one swift movement he hit me with the pron. My body jerked upward, and the wire tore into my clothes, tearing at my skin. Joker finally pulled away and held my cheeks in his hand squashing them hard. “I asked you a question cupcake.” We remained staring at each other until,  

“Time to go back up, Joker! Second shifts coming on.” A guard with the last name Boles grabbed the Joker’s suit and dragged him back up the stairs.  

“Seems I gotta run! But don’t worry Little Bird, I’ll be back soon to play! Then you and I, Red Velvet will have another go at that name of yours. HA, HEEE, HA HAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!!!” Once I was sure they had left, I stood up and ripped right through the wire. It is ripping up my skin the entire time, didn’t hurt as much as I thought it would. I didn’t even react as blood dripped onto the floor. Jason, however, had a surprised look on his face. I bent down and snaked my arms under the wire, having them on either side of him. I’m not so heartless that I’d leave someone to the Joker’s wrath. Jason didn’t even struggle, nor say anything. I don’t think he had the strength.  I then jerked my arms outward snapping the wire instantly. None of the wires grazed or even came near Jason.   

“Come with me, we are getting out of here.” I whispered, grabbing one of his arms and wrapping it around me.  My cuts had already stopped bleeding. By tomorrow they would be gone. I couldn’t say the same for Jason. I don’t think he’s got a healing factor like I do.  Then, I hoisted Jason upward, grabbing his torso, supporting his entire body with my own. “Can you walk?” I asked. Jason only nodded slightly, keeping his head down, eyes glazed over. Then, we both slowly walked down the long hallway toward the exit. It was all going smoothly until,  

“Hate to ruin your escape kids, but the clown pays well.” Damnit, Deathstroke. I threw Jason to the side as bullets rang out. One catching me in the shoulder and off balance. Shit. Deathstroke then pointed one gun at my head and one at Jason’s. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it quick. I wanna get back to all the shows I dvr’ed.” Mother fucker. This guy... 

“Whatever Joker’s paying you, I’ll triple it if you get us out of here.” A deep ragged voice spoke. Deathstroke turned towards the voice as did I. Jason slowly got up, his hands forward and made his way over ton Deathstroke, standing in front of me. “Deal?” He asked.  

“...If I do this, I need to be confident you don’t run. So, this tracking device is going to make sure of that. Say Ah” Deathstroke sneered grabbing the back of Jason’s heard and shoving a small device down his thought. Jason coughed and fell to his knees. “Keep up.” Deathstroke snapped as he took off running. My arm couldn’t move with a bullet in its joint, I’d have to dig that out when we were out of here. With my good arm I grabbed onto Jason, helping him up and leading him in Deathstroke’s direction. I could see the end of the tunnel approaching when an alarm started blaring. A red light bathed the room.  

“ATTENTION CODE BLACK, ARKHAM FACILITIES ARE ON LOCK DOWN.” Deathstroke stopped for a second to look back at us.  

“Keep going!” I shouted over the alarm running past Deathstroke. Three of us crashed through the doors exiting the building.  A helicopter was waiting for us.  

“The GCPD will be coming from the west. We’ll be good if we law low and head east.” Jason explained as we all piled into the copter. Once I whistled to Deathstroke. He huffed and threw his pocketknife at me. “What are you...?” Jason started but stopped when he realized I was digging out the bullet Deathstroke had put in me.  

“Damnit,” I hissed, “You really got me good this time you bastard.”  Deathstroke chuckled.  

“Sorry kid. Life of a mercenary.” I finally dug the bullet out and held it to Deathstroke still piloting the helicopter. “Toss. Got too much blood all around it.” I rolled my eyes and tossed it in the ocean below. “Alright. Where is the money I’m owed.” 

[mskoreodyssey]

[TLOK] Book One: Air (Fix)

Original-Novel: Info [Buy]

First 6 Episodes // Last 6 Episodes

Fix Book 1 by Tim Hickson

Rules

12 episodes // Fixing (not a full rewrite)

3 main issues on Book 1

They didn’t establish or give enough consequences to the oppression of non-benders.

The love triangle conflict doesn’t really work, so we need something else.

Korra’s arc is meant to be about her learning who she is without her bending, and Amon taking it away is a huge part of that, but we don’t get enough time to explore it.

[Episode 1: Welcome to Republic City]

The season opens with Korra living a contained, controlled life under the watchful eye of the White Lotus. She has a good grip on fire-bending, water-bending and earth-bending, but not air-bending, and we see she relies a lot on her passion and anger and independence as she fights and moves. “She's strong”, says Katara, “but she lacks restraint”. Korra, on the other hand, is stoked three elements down, barely an adult and ready to fill face the world. She longs for freedom and to do what the Avatar is meant to do right, fight injustice. This is the foundation for Korra's character arc, she's a prodigy who has had most things come to her in life easily. She's the chief's daughter, the prestige, the power. It's made her impulsive, a little unempathetic and makes her easily frustrated when she can't get things quickly, as well as overly reliant on violence and action rather than listening and understanding. Tenzin and his family arrive in the Southern Water Tribe with Korra, expecting him to teach her about air-bending and the spiritual side of being the Avatar. Only to reveal Republic City is unstable with tensions between benders and non-benders. And because of that, her training will need to wait. Korra insists that just means that's where she needs to be, the place with injustice and imbalance, but Tenzin refuses and leaves. That night, Korra escapes with Naga on a ship bound for Republic City. (...) Upon arriving in Republic City, Korra is astounded she's never seen so many bright lights before. But she soon finds herself in the poorest parts of the city, filled with the homeless, the drug afflicted, the impoverished. She sees a bending police squadron clearing out a city park, first peacefully and then with more of a threat, the non-benders scatter. In another place, one group tries to light a fire and to announce herself as the Avatar. Arriving in the city she conjures a fire for them and cease to sit down. But when Korra asks why none of them started a fire because surely one of them must be a fire-bender, they scoff. “They're all non-benders. You think you'll find a fire-bender down here. Make do, make mend”, an old man says. The others look at her nervously, as if they're a little worried she might come after them. But Korra, confused as to why people aren't excited at her arrival, leaves only for a Triple Triad gang member to begin extorting the group. Korra, inflamed with righteous anger, turns back to save the non-benders and does so, but destroys the surrounding neighborhood in the process. The place these people clearly called home...  and nobody thanks her. Korra then enters a wealthier part of the city, but is stopped by a bender. “I saw where you came from. I don't want thieves around these parts.” The police close in around her, asking if there's any trouble. But when she threatens him with bending, the man backs off. “Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were one of them.”

(One of the major criticisms of season one was that it didn't show the inequality between benders and non-benders enough. We see a gang exploiting one person and that the council is maybe ruled entirely by benders, but not much else. We don't see real systemic issues that demand real systemic reform. This is one attempt to do that, to show a city divided into pseudo-classes with a deep cultural association of non-benders with stealing and crime. Something we see in the real world, leading to classist divides and creating stereotypes. I also wanted to show a systemic bias from the police to assist benders over non-benders being benders themselves. That it's not like the average bender is going out of their way to hunt down non-benders, but it's a lot more subtle in this society.)

The episode ends with Korra finding the pro-bending arena, this monolithic building that everyone seems to be heading towards. And she also finds one of a man's pamphlets, “Equality”, it reads. At which point Tenzin flies down to interceptor, blocking her path. “You know, word travels quickly when the Avatar is in town”, he says, a little frustrated. We then get a cutaway scene of Amon learning that the Avatar has arrived in the city as well, and that they must accelerate their plans.

[Episode 2: A Leaf in the Wind]

Tenzin takes Korra to Air Temple Island, away from the pro-bending arena. Much to her protestation, insisting that she return home. But she refuses, Tenzin storms away, frustrated. Korra then connects with Pema, Jinora and Ikki, who try to teach her some basic air-bending techniques. She doesn't learn much, but when Tenzin returns and spies Korra trying to learn, Pema comes up behind him and encourages him to let Korra stay. Tenzin goes to her, “I can't believe you followed me all this way when I specifically told you not to, but I'm impressed. So long as we can put that determination to good use with your studies”. Korra punches the air, fire bolts all around ecstatic. That night, Korra has her first dream of Aang in the past. Those flashbacks to Yakone, and like in the show, she's just going to get more of those dreams. The following day, Tenzin takes Korra for her first lesson. He impresses on her that air-bending is about attaining full control over yourself, your emotions, your body, by detaching yourself from the world and the things that affect you. Not holding on to the past and allowing yourself to change, not holding on to one idea of themselves. A freezing gust of wind hits them and Korra shivers. But Tenzin explains that they can even control their body temperature with careful use of their breath, which is why it didn't affect him.

(And keep that in mind because we're just going to set that aside for later.)

Korra tries to air-bend, but she doesn't move with the world around her, she relies on punching and kicking. Asserting herself on the world around her and as a result, she's beaten in that spinning boards test. She tries again and again and again, but fails every single time, getting more and more frustrated. She is not used to taking this long to get what is in her mind a very simple thing. At the end of the lesson, Tenzin tells her firmly that attaching oneself includes things like pro-bending, and he forbids her from going. Better from having tried and gotten nowhere, Korra sneaks out with Jinora to go and see the Pro-bending tournament. As in the show, she meets Mako and Bolin who are down a member, and she fills in. Tenzin arrives furious, but sees Korra putting the lessons he tried to teach her into practice in her own way during the tournament. And he starts to understand that she might have to learn this stuff on her own terms.

[Episode 3: The Revelation]

Tarrlok, another counselor in Republic City watched Korra perform and approaches her after the game. "You must be the Avatar. I've heard you're a natural, a true prodigy". He encourages her to join the council sometime, to sit in and hear about the politics of the city. "With the instability between benders and non-benders, that it'd be good to have the Avatar to help maintain order. I heard you dealt with this yourself first-hand, and I commend you". Korra wants to loving this praise, but Tenzin insists that she stay out of politics. It's here they're also approached by Asami, a non-bender and the owner of Hiroshi Industries.

(So there's no Hiroshi Sato in this rewrite, which I guess makes it Asami Industries, and that's because of our first major change. Asami is an Equalist, though she doesn't reveal that.)

She offers to sponsor them, noting it would be well worth having the Avatar's face for her company. Korra immediately hits it off with Asami, this charming, beautiful girl from a whole other world to her, who admires her skills and says that she sees value in the Avatar. And Mako initially refuses, insisting that they don't need her money. But Bolin presses that well, they're not going to make it very far without it. Reluctantly, Mako agrees. Korra wonders why Mako was so opposed to taking Asami's money, to which they explained that their mother was murdered by a group of Republic City non-benders during the riots a year ago. Apparently when this instability really kicked off, in that since then, Mako has found it difficult to trust non-benders. He describes a non-bender with a prosthetic leg and scarred arm, that he remembers the man's face and swears he will find him one day. Korra asks what he's going to do and Mako says nothing.

(I wanted to introduce this change because to be perfectly honest, Mako isn't that interesting. In the first series, Bolin is likeable and delivers comedic relief and heart to the story. Korra is an interesting conflicted character with a real arc. But Mako is brooding without much of a reason, no obvious flaw or goal to overcome in this story, he's a dollar shop Zuko. Here Mako's trauma in the past, and it's a trauma that does exist in the story, we're just modifying it a little bit. It really plays into the current narrative conflict and it provides a personal bias and arc for him to overcome his prejudice against non-benders. It's just enough to enforce those social divides and give a face to one side of it.)

Taking out Amon's pamphlet that she found at the end of the first episode, Korra insists that they look more into this divide. These equalists, this guy called Amon, especially if Tenzin isn't going to let her get involved in politics. As in the show, they piece together where it's happening and go to find the rally, here Amon reveals himself. He gives this brilliant speech about bending being the source of suffering and war in the world, and removes the bending of those same gang members who Korra fought at the beginning. As well as a couple of the policemen that she saw. Impulsively, Korra leaps up onto the stage to rescue the remaining victims. Horrified at the idea of losing her own bending, she fights Amon and his right hand man, referred to only as the Lieutenant. Who, like Amon, keeps his face hidden. But it goes terribly, and she has to be rescued by Tenzin, Tarrlok and Beifong's police force. In the course of that rescue, though, Korra witnesses some kind of police brutality. People are arrested for simply attending this rally. All of this only hardens Mako's resolve, that they need harsher measures to deal with the Equalists. In the aftermath, Lin Beifong rails against Korra for acting unilaterally like that. That they knew about the meeting and they were monitoring it from afar until she had to go and jump up and ruin everything. She coins it as typical teenage Avatar entitlement and ignorance, not knowing how things really work in a city like this. While Korra says that at least she did something, at least she tried to save people. Tarrlok, however, insists on forgiveness, "It is the Avatar, after all". Tenzin takes her away, but he's also angry, and although he empathizes with her frustration. He insists that the situation is complicated and it needs to be left to the professionals. "Professionals, I'm the Avatar. What's more professional than that?", she cries. But the episode closes out.

Amon’s speech (Fix)

My quest for equality began many years ago. When I was a boy, my family and I lived on a small farm. We weren't rich, and none of us were benders. This made us very easy targets for the water-bender who extorted my father. One day, my father confronted this man, but when he did, that water-bender took my family from me. Then, he took my face. I've been forced to hide behind a mask ever since. As you know, the Avatar has recently arrived in Republic City. And if she were here, she would tell you that bending brings balance to the world. But, she is wrong. The only thing bending has brought to the world, is suffering. It has been the cause of every war in every era. But that is about to change. I know you have been wondering, "What is the Revelation?" You are about to get your answer. Since the beginning of time, the spirits have acted as guardians of our world, and they have spoken to me. They say the Avatar has failed humanity. That is why the spirits have chosen me to usher in a new era of balance. They have granted me a power that will make Equality a reality. The power to take a person's bending away. Permanently.

- -

[Episode 4: To Fight or Not to Fight]

Tenzin tries to teach Korra more air-bending, but Korra can't focus. With everything going on, she just wants to go out and help with this stuff. She insists that the world gave her the four elements for a reason, not just air-bending. And at least she can use three of them to do something good and bring them on to justice, there are also further reports of benders disappearing off the streets. Korra sits down with Bolin and talks about how she just wants to help people, that she hates sitting around when she knows there's so much wrong in the world and she's just not sure how to help. Bolin tells her, “That sometimes you've got to fight, yeah, but sometimes you've just got to listen and learn, and sometimes you've got to wait before you can really make a difference”. Meanwhile, Mako tries to find an Equalist hideout. Asami comes across him while looking for Korra and offers to help, and he refuses it. But after struggling and getting nowhere, he reluctantly accepts the help. Beginning to trust non-benders again, he even flirts with her, and the two get along and laugh. And in turn, she provides a map of the city's underground infrastructure, tunnels and buildings, even the power grid, able to nail down where they might be by an unusual consumption of power. Asami insists that Korra and Bolin go with Mako if he really wants to do this, to help keep him safe. While Asami stays behind, insisting that although she wants to help them, she doesn't want her company to get caught up in a turf war. Sure enough, though, they find a huge weapons cache of these new electric gloves that the Equalists plan to use. But before they can call in Beifong, they're ambushed by the lieutenant who electrifies Mako and Bolin. Korra only just manages to fight her way out with them, and realizing the Equalists must be planning something big if they're collecting weapons like this. Korra challenges Amon on the city-wide radio system to a duel at Big Aang Face Island, which plays out exactly as it does on the show.

(It's a brilliant scene, genuinely one of my favorites in the entire show, with Amon taking her down easily and promising that he won't take away her bending yet because he has plans.)

Amon’s announcement

Good evening, my fellow Equalists. This is your leader, Amon. As you have heard, the Republic Council has voted to make me public enemy number one, proving once again that the bending oppressors of this city will stop at nothing to quash our revolution. But we cannot be stopped. Our numbers grow stronger by the day. You no longer have to live in fear. The time has come for benders to experience fear.

Korra’s Challenge

Amon, I challenge you to a duel! No task force, no chi-blockers, just the two of us tonight at midnight on Avatar Aang Memorial Island. Let's cut to the chase and settle this thing, if you're man enough to face me. Guess you're a no-show, Amon. Who's scared now?

Amon’s speech

I received your invitation, young Avatar. Our showdown, while inevitable, is premature. Although it would be the simplest thing for me to take away your bending right now, I won't. You'd only become a martyr. Benders of every nation would rally behind your untimely demise, but I assure you, I have a plan. And I'm saving you for last, then you'll get your duel, and I will destroy you.

[Episode 5: A Voice in the Night]

Korra is shaken by her confrontation with Amon and returning to Air Temple Island. She's suddenly starting to internalize for the very first time that she isn't necessarily the most powerful person in the world. Tenzin counsels Korra and tells her about how fragile he feels as well that as one of the last air-benders in the world. And at one point the only air-bender in the world, that it was a big responsibility. And for a long time, there was all he could ever see himself as the last air-bender. Until Jinora and Ikki and Pema came along, and he started to see himself as more than that, as a father. He links this in with air-bending by explaining that it's a lot to do with finding peace with oneself, not defining ourselves by what we can do for the world, by the role that we are born into, but recognizing we are valuable outside of that. Korra internalizes this a little and even manages to learn some more air-bending movements but confesses that she doesn't know who she is outside of the Avatar. That is all she has ever been, that is all anyone has ever really seen her as, and she's terrified of Amon because of that. Even pro-bending is based off her powers, she thinks that Mako and Bolin would drop her without them. Mako and Bolin overhearing her, assure her that this isn't the case. “We love you because you're fiery, you're our friend.” And Pabu comes up and sits on top of her head. But following that very escalation, Tarrlok opens a special task force with more powers to deal with the Equalists. Beifong opposes this, but Tarrlok tells her that it isn't her business. This is a council decision, it's for the safety of the city. Mako joins the task force, but Bolin steps aside, saying “No! Hey, this is going too far for me”. That, yeah, he's scared as well. But this will only make things worse between benders and non-benders, and it'll only make him on bolder.

(One of the most common criticisms of Season One is that the love triangle between Bolin, Korra, and Mako is distracting. And to be honest, it doesn't actually take up that much time. I rewatched the series, it's not that invasive. And it does make sense for Korra as someone who is developing her independence for the first time. She wants these kind of experiences, but it is also the only real character conflict within the trio, and I don't think it's a particularly great example of that. And I think that this would be a more interesting conflict. It's drawing on their traumatic history together, but it also deepens that wider conflict, giving more room for growth and personalizing it. Especially because neither of those romances really come too much in the end.)

Feeling a lack of purpose and fearing failure, Korra joins Tarrlok in hopes of reasserting her sense of self-worth, her role as the Avatar. Bolin and Asami are disappointed, and a rift develop in the group. At an operation that night, they burst into an Equalist facility and once again they face the Lieutenant. Mako is initially happy to see some success rescuing several benders who are being kept for Amon. But he begins to question his feelings towards non-benders after watching more brutality at the hands of the special task force. Even targeting people who just happened to be in the building, suspicions of them being Equalists. With a group of harmless civilians also being rounded up for questioning. In the apartment building, their raiding itself also partially collapses during the fight. When Mako goes to Tarrlok about this though, the Council just insists that it's crucial for law and order. That they had intel that Equalists would try to hide like this, hide amongst civilians. Mako looks away, nods, but reaffirms his dedication to the Task Force.

[Episode 6: And the Winner is...]

This episode plays out basically exactly the same as in the show. I think it was pretty good. Amon warns that if the Pro-Bending final isn't cancelled, there will be consequences. Beifong and Tarrlok swear to protect the stadium, the Wolf-Bats with foul play and the Equalists attack. Amon ascends from the sky, removes the Wolf-Bats bending, and though they fight, the Equalists do escape.

(Only one tiny change I will mention.)

In the midst of the fight, Korra tears off a section of the Lieutenant's clothing, revealing a tattoo of a small white lop-eared rabbit. Korra would have gotten a hold of Amon if not for the Lieutenant, shocking her at the last minute. Watching her as they ascend into the sky before they escape.

Amon’s announcement

Good morning, citizens of Republic City. This is Amon. I hope you all enjoyed last night's pro-bending match, because it will be the last. It's time for this city to stop worshiping bending athletes as if they were heroes. I am calling on the council to shut down the bending arena and cancel the finals, or else there will be severe consequences.

Amon’s speech

I believe I have your attention, benders of Republic City. So once again, the Wolf-bats are your pro-bending champions. It seems fitting that you celebrate three bullies who cheated their way to victory because every day, you threaten and abuse your fellow non-bending citizens just like the Wolf-bats did to their opponents tonight. Those men were supposedly the best in the bending world and yet it only took a few moments for me to cleanse them of their impurity. Let this be a warning to all of you benders out there: if any of you stand in my way, you will meet the same fate. Now, to my followers: for years the Equalists have been forced to hide in the shadows, but now we have the numbers and the strength to create a new Republic City. I'm happy to tell you that the time for change has finally come. Very soon, the current tyrannical bending regime will be replaced by a fair-minded Equalist government. You and your children will no longer have to walk the streets afraid! It's time to take back our city.

📖Hello👇Future👇Me✏️’s Legend of Korra

[druigprotectionsquad]

||SUIT UP|| Dark! Tony Stark x Reader DARK AVENGERS

Ironman suit x F reader PART 1 DARK AVENGERS SERIES

A/N THIS IS A NONCON ONESHOT. NOTHING IN THIS STORY IS REAL IT IS ALL FICTION. IF THIS WILL / DOES TRIGGER YOU PLEASE EXERCISE SELF CARE AND TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF. I am not your mother and I cannot stop you from reading this but if you choose to discard my warnings and CHOOSE to read this then I am not responsible for the harm it may cause you. If you don’t like this just move along

Summary- you betrayed The Avengers and sold them out to HYDRA in return for immunity and protection, however, your ex fling Tony Stark decided to give you a taste of your own medicine in a twisted revenge.

Warnings- Noncon, suit fucking, choking, DP, name calling, restraints, bondage, Gags, triple penatration, technically a 4some 

You don’t know how you ended up here…

You were seated in the outstretched arms of the red Iron man suit itself. Legs being held down in place by a similar Ironman suit, except this one was blue, who stood directly in front of you, sporting a rather big…metal appendage.

Tony had made this in secret years ago after you let it slip when drinking that you had a fantasy about being fucked raw by his metal suit, and the gentleman that he is he decided to fashion a new suit for the sole purpose of sex. Tony calls it Mark 69.

The final suit, a gold one, stood behind Red, one hand lightly placed around your neck, the other cupping your exposed pussy, one vibrating finger firmly pressed down on your clit.

“What did I say about running your mouth, Sweethart? Naughty girls get punished.” Tony tutted with a lustful smirk on his face.

Tony sauntered over to you with a gag in his hand and your eyes widened.

“Tony you absolute bastard let me go!” you gulped, knowing what was to come.

You betrayed the Avengers, selling them out to HYDRA because they had promised you a substantial amount in rewards, enough that you could disappear from the map and live off grid in safety, and no longer an enemy of HYDRA. 2 days ago you were reported missing, the avengers planned to storm your apartment and take you to SHEILD for questioning, but when they arrived it was ransacked and you were missing.

But you weren’t missing. Tony had stormed your apartment and kidnapped you, deciding to keep you hostage and question you himself in his own twisted sexual way.

‘Tighter, Gold, and restrain her” on Tony’s command the cool hand around your neck tightened just slightly, and Gold’s other hand moved from your pussy to grab both your hands and hold them above your head.

“Open your mouth, slut”

You shut your mouth in defiance, and he stood in his place thinking about what he was going to do with you. He thought for a second and marched up to your captive form. He pursed your lips together and stuck his fingers in your mouth, using them to tug your jaw open.

He placed the bright red gag between your lips, fastening it behind your head, which was no easy task due to your shouting and thrashing.

So there you were… held down between two metal suits, restrained and gagged at the mercy of the Genius playboy.

“Mmhph!” You let out a muffled grunt as Tony slapped your dripping pussy before walking towards the door.

“Boys, pleasure her good’

Again at his command the blue suit In front of you moved one hand from your leg to your wanting core, inserting two cold thick vibrating fingers inside of you.

“Hmmmph!” Letting out a hum at the feeling of being penetrated you jolted forward, as you did the hand on your neck became tighter.

“ (Y/N) (Y/N) (Y/N)” he sung in a singsong tone as he circled you.

“What ever am I gonna do with you huh? You turned your back on your team, you sold us out! If you hadn’t been such a disobedient slut you wouldn’t have done something so stupid…now I’m gonna punish you until you can’t take it anymore”

You stared at him with fear and pleasure in your eyes. Someone has to find and free you, you had no idea where you were, the room was none that you recognized. You were brought from your thoughts as Blue sped up his thick fingers, pulling an orgasm out of you.

“Mhmm mhmmm T-hmm-y” you tried to shout but it came out as a strangled muffled moan as he let out a dark laugh.

“Yeah that’s right you dirty fucking slut. Your never leaving here, your gonna stay and I’m gonna tie you up and fucking ruin that 2 timing body of yours. I’m gonna leave you suspended all night with a vibrator stuffed in every hole I can fit”

He was stood in front of your face detailing the assault he has planned for you as revenge. You’d rather he killed you because it would be quick and painless.

“Or maybe I should have the suits fuck you raw for days on end, making your little pussy cream for me huh?”

You were lost in pleasure, too focused on not coming to hear him. Blue pulled his fingers out and took a step back. Tony also stood back as you tried to breath in, your pussy was pulsating as the touch, pushing out justices onto the floor. Tony walked up to you pulling your gag back to allow you to speak.

“Got something to say bitch?”

“Tony please, listen!- “ before you could justify your decision the gag was placed back in your mouth, pulling you off the suits as they changed positions. He pulled you by your hair, throwing and pinning you to the floor, your faced pressed into the cold tiles.

“No you listen to me, (Y/N) you don’t get to tell me to listen, you sold us out, my avengers are in critical condition because of you. I’m gonna fuck you baby, I’m gonna abuse you and I’m gonna keep you here as my special little fuck toy and there’s nothing you can do about it”

He spat at your face as he let you go to walk over to grab some other toys and ropes. You attempted to make a run for it put you were grabbed by the leg by the Mark 69. He held you tight by both hands as Tony approached you with rope in hand, securing your legs and arms tightly.

Blue released you to lie on its back on the floor, Tony’s grip was back in your hair as he placed you over the cold metal cock of the suit, you fought to fight it but red appeared behind you to forcibly grab your hips to slam you down on Blues metal member.

“Ah! Hmphhhhh!”

You yelped through the gag at the force and the feeling of being filled so suddenly with no preparation. You thrashed around and screamed with all the force you could manage in an attempt to free yourself from the sexual torture. All movement and noise stopped as Tony sat down beside you with his legs cross crossed.

“Look at you kitty, your begging to be let go but your creaming all over blues dick down there, I’m starting to think your enjoy being used.”

As he spoke his hand trailed down to find your clit, pulsating and wet with arousal, he toyed with it between your fingers before giving it a harsh slap.

“God what I’d do to have that filthy little pussy around my dick right now, but you’ve been such a bad bad girl, and I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

Still no movement from the robot underneath you, Tony stood and walked over to the place his rope was stored, in a closet at the other die of the room, but now as he switched on a brighter light and opened it he allowed you to see what was hidden in side.

Rope. Gags. Paddles. Canes. Vibrators. But plus. Collars. Clit suckers..everything. Tony had every single sex toy known to man In that closet.

And beside this closet and scattered around the still dim room were suspended ropes, a cage, sex machines, sybians, the lot.

Red was ordered to push your head down so you didn’t see what Tony had grabbed to continue his assault on your aching pussy.

With your head down the panic began to set in. The most famous man and superhero on the planet had abducted you and is now using you as his own personal sex toy, no one would find you because no one would notice you’re gone now that you were off the grid.

You were lost in your thoughts until you felt Tony’s hand on your pussy, gathering your wetness in his fingers.

“Here’s what’s gonna happen for the night baby. I’m gonna fill every hole in your body with the biggest fattest dildos I own, and I’m gonna order blue down here to fuck you until I return, he’s got a lot of tricks up his sleeve and he’s gonna fuck you until your broken. I’m gonna keep you here and fuck you dumb little bunny”

You screamed through the gag, the regret of what you have done has finally hit, you felt a dildo at your asshole being pushed in with no prep or mercy, the gold suit was ordered so stand in front of you, red was ordered to keep your hips secured and blue was not given a command yet.

You felt a second dildo being pushed into your pussy, which was already filled with blues metal cock, but that didn’t stop Tony from finding space to stretch you to your limits.

You discovered that the gold suit had also been upgraded to have its very own metal cock to match blues. As tony ordered the suit to ‘get bigger’, you watched the metal plates expand outwards adding more on, making Gold’s dick thicker.

Tony held your chin and unfastened the gag 

“Tony I had to I’m sorry...” Your voice was hoarse but you tried everything to bargin with him to let you go, but Tony wouldn’t budge. He leaned into your ear and his hot breath tickled as he whispered

“You will be sorry, when we have decided you’ve learned your lesson we’ll let you go”

“wait? we?” You asked in a panic, but before you could ask any follow up questions, gold’s dick was shoved down your throat without a second thought

“I’ll be back for you in a few hours my love!” and that was the last thing he said before walking out the door and closing it with a slam

STAY TUNED FOR THE REST OF THE AVENGERS, COMING SOON

[devildom-drabbles]

Story - Stitched with Care

Summary: Leviathan has sewn together a meaningful gift for MC, but will he have the courage to give it to them?

Characters/Ship: Leviathan x MC

Word Count: ~2.3k

Warnings: None

Leviathan glanced back and forth between the character reference images on his computer screen and every inch of the small plush in his hands.  He triple-checked everything, ensuring that it was a perfect match.  All the while, his fingers grazed over the fabric to check for any rough edges that could potentially hurt the holder, and he gently squeezed the plush to assure himself that the stitching was tight enough that no stuffing would pop out.  After confirming that there were no flaws, he cheered aloud.

“I did it!  It’s finally done!” he hollered within his room.  He shifted closer to the tank beside him, where Henry 2.0 was watching him intently.  “Check it out, Henry!  I made an exact stuffed replica of MC’s favorite fictional character!  Sewing some of these little details together was a challenge, but just like the real Henry and the Lord of Shadows, I was able to conquer it through the power of friendship!  Well, my friendship with MC, that is.  I had to skip my weekly TSL marathon for this, but it was well-worth it.  Now I just need to text MC to meet me in my room.”  

He giggled to himself, giddy with excitement while he typed out a series of spam messages to the human.  “Oh, man, I can’t wait to see the look of surprise on their face when they see this.  I hope they get here soon!”

As he awaited a response from MC, Leviathan studied the plush in his hands.  It was a character that MC gushed about frequently, like he did with Ruri-chan.  They had mentioned recently that they couldn’t find any good quality, reasonably-priced merchandise of this character in the Devildom, so they asked Levi to keep them posted if he ever found anything like that on Akuzon or any of his other merch locations.  He had considered just buying one of the more expensive items for MC, but then he thought, why not just make something himself?  He was skilled in sewing--having made dolls before as a gift--and capable of putting together something that likely would be sold for a high price online.  And so, he decided to create his own merch of the character--a plush that’s one of its kind and for MC only!  He picked at the bandage on one of his fingers while gazing at the finished product with pride, a feeling he doesn’t experience as often as he’d like.

However, the longer the shut-in demon waited for MC, the more his pride was replaced with self-doubt.  MC wouldn’t find this weird, right?  Would they even like how it turned out as much as he did?  What if they’re disappointed?  What if they only pretend to like it?  His hands trembled and pressed further into the plush, visibly distorting its features.  Oh no, it is poorly made, isn’t it?  MC wouldn’t like this!  And when they find out it was made by this yucky otaku who probably likes them a whole lot more than they like him--?!  

Leviathan screamed at himself internally.  What was he thinking?!  Why did he send those texts so quickly?!  He should’ve thought it over more before asking them to come--

A familiar rapping on his bedroom door nearly made the demon jump out of his skin.

“Levi,” MC’s voice called from the other side, “I’m here.  Can I come in?”

“P-P-Password!!” Leviathan hollered while scrambling to figure out what to do with the plush.  Should he hide it and come up with a different “surprise” for MC?  But what else would be exciting and urgent enough to order them to come here on such short notice?  He got a new game recently that he’s been wanting to play with them--  No, wait, they both planned to do that next weekend!  Think, Levi, think!!

“I thought I didn’t need a password anymore,” MC pointed out.  “Besides, you asked me to come here ASAP, didn’t you?”

“Uh, r-right!  I meant--  Um--”

Leviathan stared at the large fish tank lining the wall of his room, giving him an idea.  He’ll jump in the tank, hide the plush among the items inside, and then act like he wanted to show MC some underwater tricks in his demon form!  ...No, no, no, that’s so lame!  If MC wanted to see something like that, they’d go to an aquarium!

“Come on, Levi,” MC complained.  “I promise I’m by myself, if it’s your brothers you’re worried about.”

“N-No, it’s not--  Erm--  Can you just--”  Overwhelmed, the demon pulled on chunks of his hair and shouted, “D’ahhhh!!  Never mind, okay?!  Forget everything I texted you!”

MC was silent for a few moments before saying, “You said you had a surprise for me, right?  Well, I’m coming in to see it!”

“No, wait!! I just said--”

Upon seeing his door begin to open, Leviathan desperately tried to get inside the tall tank and hide away, dropping the plush on his bedroom floor in the process.  MC found him flailing about as his feet kept sliding on the tank’s glass while he attempted to climb inside.  Confused and concerned, they ran toward him and grabbed his shins, begging him to get down.  Since he was alarmed by their touch, he accidentally pushed himself off the tank too quickly.  He fell to his back, narrowly avoiding any collision with MC.  The commotion and pain left him feeling temporarily sluggish, so he just stayed on the ground for a bit.

MC approached Leviathan’s side and lightly tapped their hand on the cheek of his dazed face.  “Levi?  You okay?”

Once he had regained his senses, he realized how close MC was to him and hurriedly scooted away.  “F-Fine!  I mean, I’m fine!  N-Nothing to see here!  Just a weird shut-in otaku being his embarrassing self in front of the person he likes--  Likes as a friend, I mean!”

Not wanting to see MC’s reaction or show his own face to them anymore, he hid behind his hands in shame.  This wasn’t working out at all like he’d planned!  Instead of presenting a wonderful surprise gift for the human he cherished, he’d probably just made himself even less favorable in their eyes!  He really is the worst, isn’t he?!

The demon waited for a response of some kind:  a negative comment, snickering directed toward him, or even footsteps leading back to his door to leave him in his misery, but nothing came.  Feeling uncomfortable in the silence, he peeked between his fingers to see what MC was up to.  Were they actually holding back their laughter?  Were they looking at him in disgust?  Or maybe in disappointment?!  Maybe they couldn’t even bear to look at him at all?!  

What he saw made him suck in a sharp breath:  MC had found the plush he had made for them.  Their eyes were wide as they scanned over the doll of their favorite character, taking in every tiny detail.  They treated it like the most precious and delicate object in existence while they carefully turned it around in their hands repeatedly.  When they locked eyes with Leviathan, he covered his view with his fingers again.

“Was this the surprise, Levi?” MC asked him calmly.  “Did you get this--”  They paused, noticing that there were no tags.  Upon closer inspection, they suddenly recognized the familiar stitching, and when they turned back to the third eldest demon brother, they finally registered the bandages around some of his fingers.  “No way...  Levi, did you make this plush of my favorite character for me?”

Still hesitant to reveal his face, Leviathan slowly nodded in reply.  A grin grew on MC’s face that practically stretched ear to ear.  They threw their arms around the timid demon’s neck, nearly knocking him over from his seated position.  His hands instinctively moved away from his face to steady himself and prevent MC from toppling over, one hand hovering over their back protectively.  He hardly had a chance to be flustered from the physical contact before MC suddenly thanked him.

“This plush is amazing,” MC praised the shocked demon.  “It looks so much like them, too.  It’s better than anything I’ve seen online for this character.  I almost thought it was some kind of rare official merch!  Seriously, Levi, your sewing skills are incredible.  This might just be the best surprise gift I’ve ever received!”

“Y-You mean it?” Leviathan questioned them nervously.

MC leaned back to show him their joyful expression.  “Of course!  I wouldn’t lie about this.  You know that, right?”

“Well, I--  I was worried that...maybe...you’d think it was weird or...not good enough...”

They shook their head.  “Not at all.  I’m actually flattered you took the time to make something so nice for me.  I love it.  I really do.”

Leviathan felt guilty for beating himself up earlier and for allowing his mind to misconstrue who MC truly was.  No, MC would never pretend around him.  They would never criticize or make fun of something he made.  Most importantly, they would never agree with the negativity he threw at himself.  MC was his friend through and through, without a doubt.  With a thin line of tears forming in his eyes, he promised himself he wouldn’t forget that again.

“I-I’m glad,” he said, swiftly wiping his eyes with his sleeve.  “I’m really really glad you like it, MC!  I’m so sorry I tried to hide this gift from you earlier!”

MC laughed lightly.  “It’s all right.  Just promise me you won’t get worried over something like this again, okay?  You can always be straightforward with me.”

“MC…!  Aaaahhhh, you’re such a good friend to someone like me!!  I’ll never doubt you again!”

Leviathan hugged MC back, hiding his face in their shoulder.  He felt the vibrations from their chuckling and their free hand stroking the top of his head, which filled him with an intense warmth that reached his ears.  He still wasn’t sure if he deserved MC’s kindness and friendship, but he wanted to do whatever he could to make sure he’d never lose it.

~~Epilogue~~

“Now that I have the best plush ever, what should I do with it first?”  MC wondered aloud, holding the plush out in front of them while sitting on the edge of Leviathan’s bathtub bed.

Leviathan swiveled in his computer chair toward them, removing his attention from the gaming news website that had been his reason for physically separating himself from MC.  Truth was, once relief washed over him at the fact that MC liked the plush he made, he was beginning to get too flustered by their close contact and had to retreat somehow.  He didn’t want them to leave just yet, so he asked them to wait while he checked for updates on the newest video games he wanted.  This allowed him time to recover and a way to hide his blushing.  One day, he vowed to himself, he’d have the courage to hold MC longer without freaking out!

“You could put it up on display in your room,” the otaku demon suggested.  “Or keep it on your bed with your pillows--”  His face suddenly flushed at the realization of what he just said.  “U-Um, that is, i-if you want to.  Or maybe that’d be too weird.  It’s not like it’s a body pillow or something.  Y-Yeah, you know what?  Just ignore me, ahahaha…”

“Actually, you just gave me an idea,” MC remarked cheerfully.  They hugged the plush to their chest.  “It’s small and comfy, so I can sleep with it!”

The chair rolled back into the computer desk as Leviathan abruptly stood up.  “Y-You’re going to sleep with it?!”

MC shrugged at his outburst.  “Sure, why not?  I might as well make use of it.  It’s my favorite character, after all, and it seems pretty cuddly.”  They held the plush closer to their face, noticing a trace of Leviathan’s scent.  “I kind of don’t want to let it go, you know?”

The Avatar of Envy’s nails slowly dug into his balled fists as he watched MC snuggle with the plush in their arms.  Yes, he made the plush himself, so he does feel overjoyed that MC likes it so much that they don’t want to part with it.  However, if he wasn’t such a coward, he’d be the one snuggling with MC!  It’s not fair!  He can’t look at this anymore!!

With swift motions, Leviathan removed the plush from MC’s grip, a small pout evident on his face as he looked back at the human’s startled expression.  “A-Anyway, you can make a final decision on what to do with it later.  For now, since you’re here, why don’t we get an early start on that game I promised to play with you?”

“But can’t I still hold my plush while we play?” MC inquired, trying to reach for it as the demon kept it secured behind his back.

“No!  I won’t be able--  I mean, you won’t be able to focus if you do that!”

MC scrunched their eyebrows in confusion for a bit before a lightbulb went off in their head, sending a smirk to their lips.  “Are you jealous of a plush, Levi?”

“H-How did--  I mean, no!  No, I’m not--”

The demon let out a screech when MC pulled him in for a hug, squishing their face into his chest.  They looked up at his deep red face with a smile.

“Don’t worry,” MC reassured him.  “I may like the plush a lot, but I like the demon who made it even more.”

If Leviathan was physically capable of melting into a puddle, he would’ve in an instant at that comment.  Instead, he basically fainted MC’s arms due to the heat frying his brain’s circuits.

[redhoodieone]

His Girl

Plot: Dick Grayson has a type in women: athletic, feminine, and classy. However, the reader is completely different as she is plus-size, tomboyish, and spontaneous. But a conversation about Y/N between Dick and the batboys takes an unexpected turn one night.

Warnings: Language, Sensitive topics, and Fluff.

“What the hell’s up your ass?” Jason asks Dick, as he hands him a bottle of beer from the refrigerator in the Batcave. It was only until last week that Bruce gave in and allowed a refrigerator to be down there after the boys begged him for one.

As long as it was only for beverages, of course. Bruce had mentioned the boys have been eating too much junk food lately, but the boys knew deep down that his rule is simply for him, because of his age, and maybe for Y/N, too.

Y/N has only been with the Batfamily for a year since her family died at the hands of Two-Face. She had only started training with Bruce for two months now, and the two of them have been working out quite a bit.

Which makes sense of Bruce’s one rule for the refrigerator, though. But that hasn’t stopped Jason from sneaking in food anyways; mostly pizza and lunch meat and cheeses for sandwiches.

But now, Dick’s distant and silence is unbearable since the circus descent acrobat is usually excited and rambling about anything and everything.

“Uh, nothing! I mean...” Dick stutters. His behavior tonight was questionable to say the least. Usually, he would be on his game and even throw some wisecracks but he’s been awfully quiet, nervous even.

“Uh-huh, sure. Whatever you say,” Jason scoffs.

Dick sits on top of the hood of the Batmobile while he peels the sticky label from the beer bottle. He notices Tim and Damian walking out from the showers and are already dressed in sweatpants and t-shirts. Bruce is seated at the Batcomputer, still in costume but minus the cowl. Jason sits at the small table and sips from his beer and snacks on a triple meat and cheese sandwich he must have made quickly.

And Alfred had long gone to bed after Bruce forced him to get some rest since they’ve returned home and are not dead.

Dick suddenly notices Y/N must still be in the showers, on the other side of the cave for privacy where the guys can’t bother the girls.

“Fine...I’ve been...having these thoughts and dreams about Y/N lately,” Dick confesses. He notices Jason staring at him with a confused expression.

“Yeah, and…?”

“Well…lately, I’ve been thinking about her as…more than a friend. I’ve been seeing her in a new light. And you know I’ve always thought she was cool, and funny, and incredibly smart,” Dick continues, with a small smile. “But…I’ve never been sexually attracted to women like her before.”

Jason purses his lips and appears to think it over. “So, I don’t see the problem.”

“I just told you I’ve never felt this way about Y/N or any woman like her before.”

“Because you’re shallow.”

“I’m not shallow,” Dick argues, suddenly feeling defensive at Jason’s attack. “I just…I’ve never seen heavy women as hot, you know?”

“You can try to justify all that, but the point is, you’re shallow.”

“Have you ever slept with a heavy girl before, Jason?!” Dick snaps.

Jason chuckles and grins. “Actually, I have.”

“Bullshit,” Dick scoffs.

“Yeah, I have Dickie-bird. It happened three years ago, when my Outlaws and I kicked Black Mask’s ass. We went to a bar to celebrate in downtown Gotham. Roy and Star left early to go fuck or something. I was left alone and I was about to call it a night until this smoking hot woman took a seat next to me. She had long dark hair, tan skin, and curves that made my mouth water and my cock hard enough to pound nails. She was gorgeous, but there were these assholes around her and were calling her fat and telling her to leave because no one here would take her home. And do you want to know what I did?” Jason asks.

“What?” Dick asks quietly.

“I took her home, after I broke all those guys’ jaws. She was fucking amazing, man. She had a magnificent ass that she actually allowed me to spank. Her curves were endless, and after I fucked her good three times, cuddling and falling asleep with her was probably the best part of the night. I’ve never felt so…comfortable and felt warm, because I actually felt someone beside me,” Jason admits.

Dick raises an eyebrow at him. “Wow, I didn’t think something like that could happen to you, Jason. If anything, I thought you were shallow.”

“I used to be, until I realized I was judging others, when I was actually trying to have others not judge me. Alfred actually helped me with that. I don’t remember every word he said exactly but he said I wasn’t trying all the ice cream flavors out there. Like, I was always sticking to a certain flavor of ice cream, and I wasn’t trying other kinds, meaning I should be looking at all types of women. And after my one night stand with that magnificent woman’s ass, I realized bigger girls aren’t deal breakers; they’re just more to love,” Jason admits, and shrugs with a smug smile.

“That’s…I don’t even know what to say. But Y/N’s different. She’s someone we know and it makes it harder. And my problem isn’t that I’m shallow, it’s how I’m supposed to handle my feelings about her.”

“Yeah, you are, Dick. Y/N’s literally the best woman we’ve ever met. Hell, the best woman I’VE ever met. She’s fucking funny, she’s so caring and kind, she’s smarter than Timbo when it comes to common sense,” Jason lists off his reasons.

“That’s true! I’m not going to lie about that!” Tim interrupts from the distance.

“Y/N’s real, she doesn’t bullshit about anything like other girls. She’s honest, and that’s a rare thing to find nowadays. And fuck…she can really handle her alcohol, she can down shots of Fireball like it’s water,” Jason adds.

“You don’t think I know all that? Of course, I do! That’s why I’m having such a hard time dealing with my feelings for her. I’ve only ever been with tall, athletic women, who wear skirts and dresses, eats healthy, and are…well, feminine,” Dick confesses. A guilty expression shows on his face. “And Y/N’s not any of that. She’s really short, kinda chubby, and she’s more of a tomboy type, who’s loud and rambunctious, and eats like a man.”

Jason snorts. “And that’s a problem why? That’s why Y/N’s fucking awesome, man! I actually really like how she’s not afraid to be herself. She’s not fake. Do you know how long it took for her to be comfortable with all of us and be who she is rather than how she thought we expected from her? And I don’t know about you but I love how she eats, whenever we go out to restaurants, I actually like how I can eat the way I want and not feel like a fat ass because I know her and I both love what we love and fuck all who have a problem with that!”

Bruce turns around in his chair and gives both boys a warning look. Even Tim and Damian silently take a seat and watch closely.

“Fuck…Y/N is the perfect woman. She’ll always be in my eyes,” Jason admits, looking down at his beer longingly before taking a sip.

“If you feel so strongly about her then why haven’t you tried to go out with her or sleep with her?” Dick asks angrily.

Jason’s pause takes everyone by surprise. “Because she can do better than me.”

“You-you actually tried to get with her?” Dick stammers.

“Oh, yeah I definitely did. I think about a year ago. I had spent the summer with her here while everyone was busy with the whole Justice League and Superman bullshit,” Jason explains. “You were with the Titans with Tim and Damian. It was just me and her.”

“Alfred was there as well,” Bruce mumbles.

“Anyways, call it cheesy as hell like those romcoms, but we actually got really close. She’s a spitfire for sure, but she really knows how to get under your skin,” Jason chuckles.

Tim and Damian nod their heads in agreement with that.

“And I obviously made the whole situation uncomfortable as fuck because when I told her how I felt, she rejected me. She said we were too alike, we’d butt heads all the time. And after that, I never brought it up again.”

Jason’s confession gives Dick a sense of confidence.

“Look, if you want to ask her out and do all that then I support you. Just know if you fucking hurt her or do anything wrong, I’ll slit your throat even if you’re family,” Jason threatens seriously.

“I wouldn’t even know how to bring it up with her,” Dick says.

“Well, don’t bring up how her weight and appearance bothers you,” Jason says seriously.

“It doesn’t!”

“Okay. How did you ask Barbara, Star, Zatanna, and-”

“I get it, Jason. I’ll just talk to her and tell her I have strong feelings for her,” Dick interrupts him. “I’ll just tell her the truth.”

“You already did.”

That voice belonged to none other than Y/N. All the guys in the Batcave jerked their heads to the top of the stairs where Y/N stood and looked down with tears running down her cheeks. She was wearing her plaid pajama pants and a loose black t-shirt she stole from one of them a long time ago, she doesn’t exactly know who though.

Dick and Jason slowly stand up. Dick carefully walks over to the stairs while Jason cautiously follows.

“Y/N…” Dick whispers, already feeling guilty and nervous that she had probably heard everything. “Please listen to me…”

“WHY?! So, you can tell me you didn’t mean any of that, when you actually did. I thought you were different! I didn’t know you could judge someone like that! Especially someone like me!” Y/N yells. “I thought you were my friend!”

“I am your friend! Y/N, please give me a chance to explain! I really like you, and-and I was just trying to ask for help so I can talk to you!” Dick pleads.

“Don’t lie to me! You were only asking for help because you didn’t know how to deal with me being fat and manly! I’m sorry I’m not like Barbara and Star! I’m sorry I’m not beautiful and thin! I’m sorry I’m not perfect for you!” Y/N cries out and runs up the stairs.

“Y/N! Wait! Please!” Dick shouts for her. He chases after her.

By the time Dick reaches Y/N’s bedroom door, it’s locked. He can hear her crying, automatically feeling like shit for being the reason why she’s hurt.

“Y/N, please…” Dick tries again.

“Leave me alone, Dick!”

Dick swallows hard and forces himself to move away from her door. There was no use for him to stand there; he’d already broke her trust and possibly ruined their friendship. He might have even ruined his chances with her.

Jason approaches Dick. “Is she crying?” he asks.

“Yes,” Dick chokes out. He runs a hand through his dark hair. “Fuck, Jason…I don’t know what to do. She won’t even talk to me.”

“You should go, Dick. I think you’ve done enough.”

Dick was a little taken aback by Jason’s command. He pushes himself to walk away anyways.

“Bruce wants to talk to you. You should go find him before he finds you,” Jason adds.

Dick exhales heavily and leaves. Jason shakes his head in disappointment at him. He takes a deep breath and knocks on Y/N’s bedroom door.

“Doll, it’s Jay. Please let me in,” Jason says softly. “I just want to talk to you.”

He didn’t think she would open the door for him. He didn’t think she would want to talk to him even though he hadn’t pissed her off or upset her in any way. But Y/N unlocked her door and even opened it for him.

Jason was deeply heartbroken to see Y/N; her eyes were red and swollen, her cheeks were wet, and she had the devastating look on her beautiful face. He quickly walked into her room and shut the door, quickly locking it.

He had to be cautious though. He knew couldn’t say or do the things he wants to do with her right now. Instead, he slowly and carefully approaches her. She allows him to wrap his strong arms around her, bringing her closely to his body to hold and protect her from everyone and everything.

“Shh…it’s okay, sweetheart. I got you. I’m not going anywhere,” Jason whispers into her hair. He tries desperately to not inhale the addicting scent of her shampoo and lingering perfume so much. “You’re okay. Everything’s going to be okay.”

Y/N lifts her face from Jason’s chest and gazes up at him. The sight of her glistening eyes makes him draw her closer to him.

“What did I do wrong, Jay? What did I do to deserve all that? Is everything about me really bad?” Y/N asks softly, on the verge of tears again.

“No. No, don’t say that. Don’t say any of that! Nothing is wrong with you. You’re beautiful, Y/N. You’re perfect just the way you are,” Jason admits.

Y/N shakes her head in disbelief. It breaks Jason’s heart more when she tries to pull away from his embrace, but he refuses to let her go. His grip tightens and he holds her as if she’d disappear and leave him all alone.

“That’s not true, Jay,”

“It is true. Hell Y/N, you’re the most badass woman I’ve ever met. You don’t take shit from any of us. You’ve managed to stay here even after all the bullshit everyone has put you through,” he explains. He even chuckles at a memory. “You’ve even made Bruce cry, remember? Remember you called him out on his bullshit when he refused to train you? You’re almost a savage like Alfred, you even make Wonder Woman and Catwoman look like dollar tree prizes, and that’s no lie.”

Y/N looks down at her feet. Jason knows she still doesn’t believe him.

“You’re always perfect in my eyes, Y/N. There isn’t a goddamn thing I would change about you,”

“If I’m so perfect, then why does Dick think so low of me?” Y/N asks. She sniffles adorably and looks back up at him.

“Because he’s a fucking idiot who can’t see the best thing that’s in front of him,” Jason answers, and looks into Y/N’s eyes before he looks at her lips. “But his loss is my gain.”

[foli-vora]

more than words - pt.1

A/N: I’ve had this in my head for forever and a half so it feels good to finally sort my thoughts and random notes out. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: The one person who you thought would be happy for you finally getting with someone decent was your best friend. After all, he had set you both up. Who would’ve thought he’d be the reason it all falls apart?

Pairing: best friend!Benny Miller/f!reader, Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales/f!reader

Word count: 1.6k

Warnings: alcohol consumption, swearing, mentions of sexual acts/sexual refences (no smut yet but it’s coming so this is strictly 18+)

pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

+++

Wednesday nights were pizza nights. A rule established in the early stages of your friendship with Benjamin Miller – a loud mouth, golden hearted ex-spec ops mess of a human being. A chance meeting one stormy day on the freeway, led to something you weren’t expecting – a friendship, and a solid one at that.

“– she damn near tried to suck the life out of me!”

“Jesus Ben, there are kids a table over.”

“So? They shouldn’t be eavesdroppin’ on conversations that don’t concern them.” He grins lopsidedly at your scowl of disapproval, ripping off a mouthful of pizza and humming as he chews it, head swaying to the faint music playing behind the bar. “You’re payin’, by the way.”

You snort quietly, “Don’t I always?”

He recoils, blinking in playful surprise. “Excuse you? I paid last…” he trails off, eyes rolling to the wall as he thinks but a frown soon pinches his brows. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is that I love you and I appreciate you.”

You laugh quietly, shaking your head as you signal for another round. “Anyways, reverting to our previous topic before you got carried away with your blowjob story.”

He makes a noise, snapping his fingers as he tries to rush chewing and swallowing his mouthful. “So,” he starts, “I’ve got a friend…”

You groan immediately, letting your head lull back. “Ben –”

This wasn’t anything new. Benny took it as his own personal mission to fix you up with anyone he thought could give you a good time and treat you well. Friends, colleagues, Hell – even his brother at one point. Will was lovely, by all means, but not your type. Both you and Will had agreed you were not a match in the slightest early in the evening, enjoyed a night of beer and pool, and then went your separate ways.

Although, now that you thought about it, Ben hadn’t mentioned setting you up with anyone for a long while. Not since before his mysterious trip.

You still didn’t know anything about it, other than he and some old work friends went on an apparent ‘vacation’. It was more than that – you knew it, and he knew you knew it, but you didn’t push the topic. Instead of interrogating him, forcing question after question on him, you let it go, sensing it was something he really didn’t want to talk about.

He had returned from that trip a few months ago, heavy with exhaustion and usually bright eyes dull and weary. You tucked him into your bed, and left him. He slept for hours. It wasn’t until much later that evening that you crept in to see how he was doing, and found him thrashing silently in the sheets, sweaty and incoherently mumbling, face pinched and puckered in pain. You didn’t wake him. Instead, you knelt beside the bed, softly stroking along his forehead until his erratic movements and breathing calmed. You didn’t bring it up.

“I know, I know,” he threw his hands up in defence with a small grin, “but I think you’ll like this one.”

“That’s what you always say.”

“No, I mean it this time. He’s a real good guy – one of my closest. I think you guys would really hit it off. I haven’t tried to set you up before because he was with the chick but she upped and left him alone with the baby and –”

“Sorry, what?”

“What?”

“He has a baby? Like a… like a child?”

Benny frowns defensively, “You’ve always said you want kids!”

“It’s still a huge commitment, Ben.”

“Jesus, I’m not walking you down the aisle! Just meet him and see where it goes. If it ends in some good sex, you say ‘thank you Ben’ and we move on. And if it ends in something more, you guys take it slow and buy me wings as a thank you.” He shrugs, looking thoroughly impressed with himself, and reaches for his beer, polishing it off in one swig.

“And what if it ends in bad sex?” You challenge, crossing your arms on the table and leaning forward to eye him critically.

He scoffs, “Woman please. I know my brothers. You’ll be in good hands.”

You take a moment to thank the waitress as she stops at your table with your beers. She lingers just a little on passing Ben his, an act he didn’t miss as he shoots her a wink and a honeyed, thanks sugar. She smiles, cheeks flooding with colour before she turns and waltzes off towards other customers, swinging her hips as she goes.

You’re expressionless when he finally turns back to you, “Sugar?”

“Shut your mouth.”

Façade cracking, a snicker falls past your lip and you chuckle. “Alright,” you concede, “you’ve got my interest. What’s his name?”

“Fish.”

… what?

“Come again?”

“Francisco – we call him Fish. Catfish, actually.”

“Your age?”

“Bit older.”

You sigh deeply, rolling your head on your shoulders in thought. You were curious, no doubt about it. Despite never being able to make anything last long-term out of the list of men Benny had set you up with, none of them were bad guys. They were all kind, funny and incredibly respectful. One great thing about Benjamin Miller was that he had an impeccable taste in character.

“I don’t know, Ben –”

He slips his phone from his pocket and swipes away at his screen before wordlessly handing you the device. It was a photo, taken from one of Benny’s many weekend trips into the wilderness. Your eyes are dragged from the incredible background of snow peaked mountains and lush green forests to the man standing beside Benny, tucked under his arm. Average build and height, a well-loved trucker cap hiding dark hair. Warm brown eyes, crinkled from a large dimpled grin between dark patched facial hair.

Benny, seeing the sudden spark of interest, grins around his beer bottle. “So, I’ll slip him your number?”

You tighten your jaw and hand his phone back, sniffing impassively as you reach for your beer. “If it means you’ll leave me alone, then fine.” You mutter coolly, ignoring his quiet chuckle.

+

“Wait, wait – you have a best friend and it’s not one of us? I’m cut, Benny. Cut real deep.” Santiago Garcia was curious, to say the least. For years, he had known the youngest Miller and he had never mentioned anyone beyond their little circle or their families. “She cute?”

Benny huffs a chuckle, leaning across the pool table and lining up the final ball. “Hell yeah, she’s cute.”

“Where you been hiding her?”

“She moved away – only came back late last year.”

Santi hums, “Ironhead – she cute?”

Will half smiles, dragging his attention away from the pool table to shrug. “She’s alright.”

His bait works. Benny snaps it up – hook, line and sinker. He stands abruptly from his shot, cue just skimming the white ball, and points an angry finger in his brother’s direction, “I won’t take that shit. She’s a damn angel and you know it.”

Will chuckles to himself before returning his attention to Santi. “Yeah, she’s cute. Show ‘em.”

Benny briefly steps away from the pool table, opens his phone and brings up your Instagram profile, throwing it to Pope and letting him scroll through your feed.

“How come you’ve met her and we haven’t?” Pope aims his question at the older Miller brother, currently bent over the table and pocketing the black ball.

He half shrugs, straightening. “He set us up. It didn’t work out.”

Santi’s face puckers into a teasing glower, and he pouts at the younger Miller. “So, what? You set everyone else up and just leave me to die alone? What’s that about, Benjamin?”

Benny holds his arms out in obvious exaggeration, gesturing deliberately to himself. “You’ve got me.”

Frankie quietly sips his beer and watches in fond amusement, content to stay in the background and away from the bickering. Like Santi, his interest had been piqued but he was somewhat nervous about the situation. He already had feelings of apprehension returning to the dating scene after the shit show of a year he’d had, and those feelings tripled when it came to potentially dating someone close to one of his longest friends. He hadn’t dated in years. He was rusty. What if he disappointed you and Benny ended up kicking his ass? It could get messy real quick.

“I don’t know, man.” He finally pipes up, crossing his arms comfortably across his torso and reclining in the bar stool after peaking over Santi’s shoulder and at the screen he was lazily scrolling through. Ha. Way out of his league. “This kinda shit never works.”

“You sayin’ she’s not good enough for you?”

Frankie shakes his head, rolling his eyes. “You know I’m not.”

“Sounds like you are.”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I’ll take his spot. Give me her number.” Santi holds a hold out, clicking his fingers impatiently when Benny merely rolls his eyes. Pope grins, settling back into his seat and elbowing Frankie softly. “I think you should go for it, man. She seems great, and you need to get back out there.”

“I can’t, I’ve got Mena –”

“And Mena’s got her tío. Go for it. You’re just looking for excuses – no seas cobarde.”

Frankie chews on his lip as he gives it a bit of thought, wondering what’s the worst possible case scenario that could come from it. A busted lip? His self-image in ruins? Scared off from dating for the rest of his life? All things he could live with.

“… alright.”

Immediately, Benny perks up from setting the pool table with a large grin. “Yeah?”

Fish sighs, long and drawn out as Pope playfully pokes his side. “Yeah. Give me her number, I’ll message her now.” Before he freaks and changes his mind.

Maybe he was just thinking too much. What’s the worst that could happen?

+

Tags: @anu-simps​

[alpacaparkaseok]

The Pact: Date #2

Pairing/Genre: OT7 BTS x reader (not poly), idol!BTS, best friend BTS

Word Count: 6.4k

Premise: The truth about the pact the boys have about you has been revealed. What happens when you agree to go on a single date with each of them?

Warnings: none, so much fluff (adkshdaslkfj...yeah. fluff.)

a/n: please, if you feel ok with it, let me know how this date was! Remember, you guys are deciding the outcome. Every little bit of feedback, even if it’s just unintelligible screaming, helps. I’d be very interested to hear your thoughts on how this date differed from last week’s!

Date #2

series masterlist ∆∆∆ join the taglist

It’s safe to say that by this point, you’ve replayed last Saturday’s date in your mind about sixty thousand times. Yet, despite your near-constant analysis, you find that you’re no more prepared for today’s date than before.

Perhaps it has something to do with the way it was described last week, giving you a little insight to how different this date would be compared to the relaxed atmosphere before.

Classic. Romantic. Picture perfect.

Your mind races with the possibilities; heaven knows that could be any of the boys. But you can’t help but expect one in particular to appear on your doorstep.

You shuffle back and forth before your mirror, triple checking your reflection. Jungkook texted you earlier this week with some instructions.

Dresscode was set to casual-nice. Whatever that means.

Make sure you’ve got your T-money card, which gives you access to the Subway.

Your green sweater vest is tucked neatly into your black skirt, giving you a posh academia vibe that you’ve honestly been dying to try out for a while. Hair falling in thick ringlets around your shoulders, the look is complete with black suede boots that only extend up to your ankle.

“Oh yeah,” you grin at your reflection. “I look good.”

And just there, resting atop the sleeves of your turtleneck, sits Hobi’s bracelet. The word ‘jagi’ is facing the ceiling, which is enough to soften your smile, remembering Hobi’s sweet date.

You’d gotten Jungkook’s permission to send a little message to Hobi, thanking him profusely for the date. It’d been fun to get to chat with him for a minute, already missing him. If you’re honest with yourself, you miss hanging out with all of them. It’s only been a couple of weeks since you were last all together, but it feels like months.

The upside to this Saturday is the fact that (after you’d sent some choice texts to Jungkook), you were given a time as to when your date would appear. Which is why you’re sitting on the edge of your seat at six o’clock ticks ever closer, waiting for the tell-tale knock on the door.

Every time a car turns onto your street, you’re leaping up to peek out the window, holding your breath until it passes by. However, this time you find yourself nearly passing out as a sleek black car rolls to a stop in front of your house.

You lose all ability to think straight when Kim Taehyung steps out of the car, straightening his beige cable knit sweater and puffing his cheeks out as he exhales. His black hair tumbles into his eyes, just long enough to brush up against his brows and make him brush it away.

Stumbling back from the window before he can see you spying on him, you bring a hand up to your chest.

“Ok, ok,” you rush to compose yourself. “Holy-”

A happy knock on your door cuts you off, and the only thing you can hope for is that you don’t say something stupid within the first sixty seconds of this date. If you can make past the first sixty seconds, you should be good, right?

Right?

You don’t have time to ponder as you force yourself to take a deep breath and open up the door. Sure enough, there stands Taehyung. Looking like he just stepped out of a French renaissance painting, complete with a smile.

A smile that’s meant for you, you realize with no shortage of shock. Grinning at you while he tilts his head to one side, his hair falls across his face from it’d been semi-parted.

“Hi, my name is Kim Taehyung,” he taps his heels together and extends his hand out. As he swoops into a bow, you can’t help the giggle the bubbles up at the silly scene before you. Gently placing your hand in his, you watch with wide eyes as he brings it to his lips. Planting a soft kiss to your knuckles, he looks up at you from behind his hair. “And you are?”

At this point, you’ve realized that there’s no stopping the mad blush crawling up your neck. Attempting to shake it off with a laugh, you shake your head.

“Are you lost or something?”

Taehyung gasps, stepping back and nearly tumbling down the stairs. “C’mon!” He groans, his smile never faltering. “I was trying to be classy!”

Shrugging, you grab your bag equipped with the essentials (keys, chapstick, mints...more mints), and lock the door behind you. Linking your arm through Taehyung’s and delighting in the momentary surprise that graces his features, you smile up at him.

“Where to, Mr. Kim?”

“Ah! That’s better.” The two of you make it to the car, Taehyung opening the passenger side before hustling over to the driver’s side. Once he’s in and buckled up, he answers your question. “Choose a number between one and ten.” Coming to stop at a stop sign, he looks to you expectantly.

“One.”

He raises his brows, making a show of turning the blinker on to signal turning right. “Good choice. We’ll get there in about...twelve minutes.” You nod, smiling softly. “How have you been?”

“Good. It’s been weird, not getting to hang out with everyone,” you admit. Tae hums in agreement.

“Yeah, it’s been weird not seeing you around the house. What have you been up to?”

The two of you get lost in conversation, relating your most recent horror stories from work or your classes. Taehyung listens raptly, snorting when you mention that you considered bringing your homework with you on the date.

“Seriously!” You laugh. “There’s so much of it. I swear, my professors have all ganged up on me.”

Tae turns into a closed off parking lot, swiping a small card in front of the monitor and pulling forward when the gates swing open. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t. Hopefully I keep you entertained enough to keep you from doing homework,” he teases.

You gape at the huge building before you, the architectural design enough to have your mouth running dry. It looks like it was taken straight out of ancient Greece, the pillars stretching up high and boasting chiseled divots. Leading to the entrance is a path of hanging wisteria, the soft purple petals swaying in the breeze.

In fact, if you hadn’t currently been sitting in a car that was definitely a product of the 21st century, you would have thought that you’d accidentally time-traveled.

Taehyung’s soft chuckle brings you back to reality, and you watch as he throws the car in park and rushes around to open your door before you even have time to twitch a muscle. You find yourself torn between gaping at the building and the man in front of you, as he extends a hand out to you and pulls you out of the car.

“What is this place?” You ask, afraid to even blink for fear of everything disappearing. Tae gently links your arm through his, which in retrospect was probably a good idea. Heaven knows you’re at risk of wandering off and never returning.

The evening sky does wonders for Taehyung, the sleepy golden sunlight settling over him. “It’s a project that’s been in the works for a long time, actually. They’re bringing together different artworks - some are replicas that they’ve been permitted to use - from all over the world. The best of the best, all in one place.” He runs a hand through his hair, looking up as you enter the small tunnel of hanging wisteria. “It’s not open to the public yet, they just finished moving the final pieces last week.”

You blink, looking up at one of your closest friends with awe. Squeezing his arm, you take a moment to pause and look around at all the beautiful wisteria.

“I’m friends with some of the curators here,” Tae explains when he catches your eye. “They said we could have a look around...if you want to…?”

In response, you wiggle out of his grasp and take off toward the entrance, Taehyung laughing and hurrying after you.

The art museum is, in a word, massive. The two of you fall into a companionable silence as you take in the artwork, occasionally wandering away from each other to get a closer look at something. Every so often Taehyung will call your name, motioning for you to look at a piece he especially likes.

There’s a point where Taehyung is trying to explain the difference between the replicas and the real oil paintings. “See, this one doesn’t have the same kind of sheen, so it’s obviously fake.” He reaches out to touch it, but freezes as soon as his fingers touch the painting.

“What?” You ask, craning your neck to see. He turns to face you with a horrified expression.

“It’s real.”

You choke a laugh, seeing the way he slowly removes his hands from the painting as though afraid to set off a bomb. “You’re joking.”

He shakes his head, looking up and down the hallway before whispering to you. “Run. They’ll kill me if they find out that I touched that thing with my bare hands. It’s like...three hundred years old or something.”

“Wha-”

“Split up!” He hisses, taking off down the opposite end of the corridor. Heart pounding even as you laugh, you run the other way. Taehyung’s laugh bounces off the walls, only making you laugh even more.

It doesn’t take long before the sun has dipped below the horizon and the two of you find yourselves in a spot dedicated to different sculptures. Sitting down on the bench in front of them, you realize just how long you’ve been up and running around.

“Wow,” you breathe out, Taehyung grunting in agreement. “So you weren’t caught?”

“Not yet, at least.” He fidgets a little beside you before speaking again. “Actually, there’s one more thing left to do here.”

You glance over at him, delighted to see that his hair has somehow grown even fluffier over the course of the date. “What is it?”

“Let me show you.” He hops up, leading the way to the end of the corridor. He enters a small room that’s completely empty save for a white backdrop and a camera.

He walks to the camera, making sure it’s on before gesturing for you to walk before the backdrop.

“Think of it like one giant photo booth,” he explains. “Pose, and I’ll choose a backdrop for you.”

You chew on your lip, feeling a little awkward as you stand before the camera. “What should I do? I’m not used to people taking pictures of me.”

Taehyung frowns. “What do you mean? I take pictures of you all the time.”

Against the start white backdrop, there’s no chance he doesn’t see your blush. “No, er...not like that. I’m not used to posing.”

“Oh.” He steps back, crossing his arms. “Just...smile?”

He snaps a few photos before rushing over to a small printer. You wander over as well, laughing when you see what’s become of your photos.

There you are, smiling awkwardly where Mona Lisa usually sits in her painting. “Oh, that’s horrible.”

“Da Vinci would love it,” Taehyung objects.

“Here, I’ll take your picture.” You run over to the camera while Taehyung steps up front, placing both hands on his hips while looking off into the distance. Selecting the ‘Starry Night’ background, you take the picture.

“Oooh, very nice!” Tae croons when he sees the photo. “But I want both of us in this.”

“What do you mean, both? There’s only enough room for one-”

“We’ll make it work,” Taehyung says as he drags you in front of the camera. Fiddling with it for a moment, he turns back to you. “Ok, it’s set to take four photos in a row. Stay still.”

“How are you going to…?” Your words fade out as a light in the camera begins to blink, counting down. Taehyung comes around you, slipping his arms around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

Just as the camera flashes for the first photo, Taehyung decides to try his hand at tickling you mercilessly.

You squeal, trying to get away but unable to as Tae keeps his iron-like grip on you. “Stay still!” He scolds in a serious tone, even as a smile is pushing its way onto his lips.

“S-stop!” You can hardly breathe as the attack continues and the camera flashes again. “Tae! You horrible human being-”

Suddenly he drops the attack, standing up straight and smiling at the camera. You take the opportunity just as the final flash goes off to shove him, laughing maniacally. He shouts, stumbling backward dramatically. Taking the temporary distraction to your advantage, you hurry over to where the pictures are being printed. As each photo comes out, you can hardly hold back your laughter.

Picking up the first photo, taken just as Taehyung had decided to attack you, you turn around to face him. “Look at how evil you look here!”

He saunters over, a lazy smile on his face. “Oh-ho, classic.”

Sure enough, the other photos are just as entertaining, although you can’t help but groan at the second photo which shows you with a mixture of laughter and annoyance as Taehyung fights a smile. “Oof, this one isn’t the most flattering…”

“Does that mean I get to keep it?” Taehyung asks quietly, taking the photo from your hands and looking at it closely. “You look cute.”

You blink, but shrug it off. Taehyung has always been a bit more forthcoming with his flirtatious manner, but it’s just now that you realize there was actually some sort of truth behind all of those silly remarks over the past few years.

Huh.

Taehyung checks the time, looking up at you with wide eyes. “Oh, we have to hurry!”

“Why?” You manage to ask before Taehyung takes off in a brisk walk. He grabs your hand, giving you no choice but to try to keep up.

He doesn’t directly answer your question. “You brought your T-money, right?”

“Yeah...but why?”

“Why do I feel like we’re going to get in trouble for this?”

“We won’t. I will.” Taehyung doesn’t look the least bit bothered as he slips a hat on over his hair. “That is, if we get caught.”

“So no pressure.” You say sarcastically, wishing you had some sort of invisibility cloak.

You never knew that the subway could be such a rush. It’s a Saturday night, people are filing in and out of the Subway at a rapid pace as they chat jovially together. Taehyung keeps his head down, attempting to blend in and completely failing.

“Tae, you’re going to be recognized.”

He shrugs. “I do this all the time. Hasn’t happened yet.”

You furrow your brows. “You do? I had no idea.”

“It’s nice to pretend to be normal every once in a while,” he confesses, looking down at his phone. “Just don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret I’ve managed to keep for years.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

Pulling up the timer app on his phone, he grins mischievously at you. “Ok. We have 60 minutes to get to three different places.” He holds up his phone for you to see. “First, we’re going to that night market you hit up all the time to get Tteok-bokki, which you love probably way too much-”

“Hey! It’s a healthy obsession!” You defend yourself, only earning an eyebrow raise in return.

“Whatever you say, weirdo. Then, we’re going to that walnut shop - you know the one at the end of the line?”

“We’re going to a walnut shop?”

“Yeah. Namjoon’s got this new obsession with them, so I promised I’d pick some up for him”

You snort. “Ok, and the last spot?”

Taehyung lowers his phone, toggling the timer to 60 minutes and looking at you and chuckling. “It’s a surprise. You ready?”

“Wait, how on earth are we supposed to get to all of these places within an hour?” You ask, incredulous. “Especially if we’re stopping to eat or buy stuff?”

Finger hovering over the start button, Taehyung looks around the busy subway station. “We hurry.” With that, he links his hand with yours and begins the timer. “Run!”

Taking off like thieves on the run, you swipe your T-money card and hurtle past the barrier, rushing to see which line to take. “It’s the red line, right?” You ask, roles switching as it’s now you dragging Taehyung behind you. “Hurry! It’s already here!”

Rushing over to where the red line train is just pulling in, you leap through the doors as soon as they open. Taehyung is right behind you, and the two of you stand off to the side with your faces down and trying to hide your giggles. He leans down to whisper something in your ear, your head automatically tilting to hear him better.

“Keep an eye out for our stop,” he urges, squeezing your hand. You nod, remaining on high alert even as you’re bursting with excitement. You know that if anybody found out that you and Taehyung were out here, looking very much like a couple, you would be toast.

The rush goes straight to your head, pumping you full of adrenaline as your stop approaches. A thought hits you, and you hurry to voice it before you have to jump out and run.

“How are we going to get you through the night market without being recognized?”

“Oh,” Taehyung angles his body toward the door, preparing. “I talked with the owner of the stall you go to. He promised to have the food ready and waiting for us, we just have to meet him in the back.”

You still have no idea how you’re going to make it through the market without being recognized, but there’s no more time for questions as the train slows to a stop and the doors slide open. In a single heartbeat the two of you leap out and take off toward the stairs that will lead you out into the night air.

It’s embarrassing just how much you’re panting by the time you reach the top of the stairs, but you shrug it off as you see the huge crowd mulling outside of the market. Without giving you a single second to doubt, Taehyung plunges into the crowd.

The two of you weave in and out, a startled laugh coming from you as the two of you pass by a stall filled with BTS merchandise. Taehyung hesitates for a moment, almost looking like he wants to stop in, but thinks better of it.

The people around you are so focused on the different stalls and their night out that they pay you no mind as you pass by, bumping into people with every step you take. If only they knew that it was Kim Taehyung bumping into them.

He never lets go of your hand as you make your way to your favorite food stall, for fear of losing you in the crowd. Glancing back at you, Taehyung shouts above the din.

“It’s been almost eight minutes!”

You nod, once again wondering how on earth you’re going to make it to all the places Taehyung has planned. Your mouth runs a little dry as you see the long line of people waiting at the food stall, all of them wanting a taste of the delicious tteok-bokki. Going in a wide circle around the crowd, the two of you end up behind the stall where it’s surprisingly empty.

Taehyung wraps on the back entrance, loud enough to be heard over the loud night. A moment later an elderly man sticks his head out, eyes crinkling with a smile as he sees the two of you.

“Ah, I was just wondering when you’d be showing up! Let me grab your order.” He winks at you guys before disappearing back into the little stall. You take a moment to breathe, looking up at the starry sky. Taehyung joins you, smiling softly.

“Why 60 minutes?” You ask quietly. Taehyung shrugs.

“I make this run whenever I can,” he responds quietly. “I’ve never been able to do it in less than an hour. Thought that it’d be fun to try to break the record with you.”

You laugh quietly. “How come I didn’t know that about you? Why didn’t you invite me before?”

Taehyung runs a hand through his hair, his other hand still hanging loosely in yours. “The pact.” When you look at him with a confused expression, he goes on. “Think about it: have you ever hung out with any of us just one on one? At least, intentionally?”

You frown, running through your memories. “I mean, yeah, but-”

“Intentionally, though.”

Automatically your thoughts run to the memory of Hobi and that night you’d vented in his car for a solid two hours, tears running down your face. Or that time you’d gone shopping with Taehyung, that was intentional wasn’t it?

“We went shopping that one time,” you say.

“Yeah, but that was an emergency of sorts. Remember? You’d spilled on your shirt and had an interview for your internship soon,” he reminds you. “I took you shopping and dropped you off after.”

You remember that, but there were other times that you just spent time with one of the boys on purpose, right? Taehyung sees your thoughts, giving you another example.

“And that time you sat and talked with Hobi in his car for hours? He’d seen you walking and offered to give you a ride. That obviously wasn’t planned.”

You blink. “How did you know about that?”

Taehyung turns a little pink under the starlight, realizing that he wasn’t supposed to know that. “Hey, it’s not my fault. He wouldn’t shut up about it. But that’s not the point!” He quickly tries to backtrack, mussing his hair yet again.

“Right,” you sigh. “So what does that have to do with the pact? And what does the pact have to do with you and this weird route of yours?” You laugh, Taehyung chuckling nervously along with you.

He opens his mouth to respond, but at that moment the door opens and the same old man appears with a bag of your food. “Here you go!” He happily hands it over to Taehyung, who thanks him and hands him the money and thanks him profusely. You also thank him, smiling warmly.

As soon as the door shuts again, Taehyung is leading you back out into the crowd. He keeps a firm grip on the food, and you stare at it longingly. The two of you manage to make it out of the crowd without any complications, except for the fact that you had to drag Tae away from the merchandise booth.

Descending the stairs to the subway, you glance over at the food again. “Are we gonna eat that, or…?”

He squints at the screen that shows the different lines and arrival times. “We have four minutes before the yellow line gets here.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs and standing off to the side, he hands you your food, chuckling as you tear into it. He shares it with you, devouring the food at an alarming rate.

It’s embarrassing to say that the two of you finish it with thirty seconds to spare.

“Wow,” you groan, rubbing your stomach as Tae throws the container away. “We’re messed up.”

He chuckles at you, checking the timer. “That, we are. But it was good, right?”

“Ugh, so good. I swear, that place is magic.”

This time, instead of running to the platform, you waddle. You get there just before the doors close, sliding in between the door and pole, which you cling to. Taehyung stands across from you, resting against the pole as well and smiling.

“Ready to go buy some walnuts?”

The question has you giggling. “Definitely.”

You fall into a comfortable silence, waiting for your stop to arrive. The walnut shop sits on the other end of the line, one of the final stops. It takes a few minutes to get there, each second ticking down. Once there’s only one stop left before you have to get off, you ask Taehyung to check the timer.

He raises his brows. “We’re making pretty good time. Thirty minutes left.”

“Nice!” You give him a high five, smiling simply because he is. “Let’s get these walnuts!”

Nevermind the fact that people listening in to your conversation think you’re crazy.

Once you make it to your stop, the two of you settle for a brisk walk rather than running. Together, you walk down the street hand in hand while trying to find the walnut shop.

“You never finished explaining that thing about the pact,” you recall. You’d nearly forgotten amongst the rush of eating and the sleepy subway ride after. Taehyung glances down at you, almost looking a little bummed out that you remembered.

“Oh...right.” He stops on the corner and presses the crosswalk sign. “Well, that’s one of the things about the pact. I never invited you to come along with me because I couldn’t. It doesn’t allow for intentional one-on-one activities.”

“You know how weird that is, right?”

He snorts. “Yeah, I know. But that’s how it is, I guess. All of those other times you were with any of us, alone, it wasn’t on purpose. It just worked out like that. You know, something about keeping everything even. And, spending too much time alone with you would probably lead to breaking the pact.”

Nodding, you tuck this information away for further examination. “Sounds like you guys thought of everything.”

“Almost.”

“Ok,” you begin to cross the quiet street, this side of Seoul starkly different in comparison with the busy night market. “So what does this route have to do with any of that? Why did you even start doing this in the first place? It’s...all over the place.”

Taehyung chews on the inside of his cheek. “Well...oh! We’re here!”

You roll your eyes as Taehyung bounds up the stairs of the walnut shop, which appears to be nearly closed. Why they’re still open at this time of night is beyond you. Do they really have people coming out to buy walnuts at all hours of the night?

The little shop is warm, and the young girl behind the counter looks anything but shocked as Taehyung enters. She immediately leans down to grab a small bag, placing it in front of her.

“Just the one bag?”

You pause to wonder just how many times Taehyung has frequented this shop for the employees to be so familiar with him. The thought makes you smile, picturing Taehyung sneaking in here late at night just to feed Namjoon’s odd walnut addiction.

“Just the one should be fine,” Tae responds, looking at you over his shoulder with a warm look. You don’t notice it, lost in your own thoughts as you wander over to a display.

Once he’s finished with the transaction, he wanders over to you. “Looks like we might just make it.”

You turn around, looking at him expectantly. “How much time is left?”

“Sixteen minutes. Let’s go,” he holds out his arm for you, which you rest your hand on the inner crook of his elbow. Bidding the girl goodnight, the two of you wander back out into the night.

“Soooo...where to next?”

Taehyung shakes his head. “I told you, it’s a surprise.”

The subway on this end of the city is much less crowded, it’s easy to find the blue line and hop on. You realize that you’re heading back to a stop fairly close to the night market, which makes you wonder.

“Why’d we go to the end of the line before this?” You ask. “It would’ve been much quicker to go here second.”

“Because,” Taehyung sits beside you, stretching his legs out. “It’s a spot that you can’t rush in. It’s meant to be the final destination.”

Giggling a little, you nudge him. “That sounds a little morbid.”

The Han River glistens from your viewpoint atop the bridge. Sitting next to Taehyung, your feet dangling off the edge, you take a deep breath.

“I see why this had to be the final stop,” you say as you breathe out. The entire Han River lays at your feet, the city lights bouncing off the surface and creating a dazzling atmosphere to rival that of the stars above you. People walk along the edge or ride bikes, their small figures making you realize just how high up you are.

“Mmm,” Taehyung hums beside you. He leans back, glancing over at you as you take in the view. “This is always the last stop.”

You take a moment to allow the sounds of the night wrap around you, tilting your head up to the stars and watching them wink down at you. A profound contentment settles over you, a smile playing on your lips.

“And my last question?” You mumble out. “What’s so special about this route?”

The quiet moment seems to be enough to urge Taehyung to finally answer you. He sits up, admiring the way you look, sitting here on top of the world.

“About a year ago, we all talked about the normal, everyday things you like to do. What we would like to do.”

“I remember,” you muse. “You guys were talking about what you’d do if you weren’t famous. Romanticizing the mediocre.”

“Right.” He slings his arms over the railing, looking out over the people enjoying their Saturday night. “You talked about how you always go to that night market to get tteok-bokki. You basically swore by that one stall, it was hilarious. But you looked so...I don’t know, I just remember thinking, I’ve never seen someone so happy about some cheap night market food. But it made me happy. And then you said that you like to grab your food and head out to the Han River. Enjoy the evening with some good food and a view.”

A slight breeze picks up, ruffling Taehyung’s hair. He hardly notices, wearing an adorable look of concentration as he continues. “And that just seemed...I don’t know, it became this thing for me. Those late nights at work or when we were away, I’d always stop and wonder if you’d gotten to do what made you so happy. But then, I realized that it wasn’t enough for me to just sit and wonder. I wanted to- I wanted...to be there with you.”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you catch sight of the faraway look in his eyes. How many times had he stopped and wondered if you had gotten to do something that made you happy? Sitting beside this man who is such a force for good, you find that you are entirely out of your element.

“So, whenever I had a chance in the evenings, I’d make up an excuse about picking up some more walnuts for Namjoon’s stash, and I’d head out. They told me to be back in an hour, hence the sixty minutes. But I’d take the train to the night market, go straight to that stall and pick up some tteok-bokki. I knew that I couldn’t just call you up and ask to go with you, and I was kind of selfish and didn’t want the other guys to come along. It was...I don’t know, I wanted it to be our thing. So I’d go there and hope I’d run into you. Make it look like an accident, so we could hang out. Just the two of us.” He laughs quietly to himself. “I sound like a stalker, don’t I?”

You only manage to shake your head, at a complete loss for words. Taehyung continues on, feeling the need to get it all out.

“In my mind, I thought that it would at least take you about fifteen or so minutes to get from the night market to the Han, so I’d run down to grab the walnuts and then head up here,” he gestures to the bridge. “And I’d look out and see if I could spot you. Maybe run down to meet you, pretending to bump into you. Give me...an excuse to see you.”

Taehyung glances over at you for a minute, looking a little embarrassed. You stare back, the shock evident on your face.

“Really?” It’s the only word you manage to get out. He smiles gingerly, huffing out a breath.

“Really. Does it creep you out?”

You snort, scooting over a little closer. Taehyung instinctively wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you against him.

“No.”

“No?”

Taking a deep breath, you take a leap. “Am I allowed to tell you that I sometimes wished I’d run into you?”

Taehyung tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, looking at you with an indescribable emotion. “I don’t think you should.”

You frown. “Why not?”

The moon and the stars as your only witness, Taehyung gives you a long look before leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He lingers for a few seconds, his warm lips reminding you of spring after a bitter winter.

When he pulls away, he gazes down at you and you just know that he’s memorizing this moment. Tucking it away for a rainy day, similar to the rain clouds behind his eyes. “I’m scared of hoping.”

In the span of five syllables, he’s completely shattered your heart. It’s now that you recognize that look in his eyes.

How many nights has he sat up here, waiting for you to come along? Hoping that you’d bump into him at the night market, delighted to see him?

Hope can be just as devastating as it is uplifting.

Taehyung sees how you’re dying to reassure him, dying to just give your heart over to him at that moment. He knows it, sees how it could play out. But before you can open your mouth, he’s stopping you.

“For now, let’s just enjoy the view and try to stay warm,” he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. You rest your head against his shoulder, heart still aching from his small confession. “Don’t worry, jagiya. Just remember to have fun, ok? You’ve still got five dates, don’t forget that.”

How could you?

Time ticks by all too quickly as the two of you remain snuggled up together atop the bridge. Eventually you fall into a quiet conversation, Taehyung chatting happily about how he had a mini crisis on night when he came on this route and Namjoon complained about having not finished the walnuts from last night. He’d had to find some other sort of enticing treat that would act as a cover for him.

“When it comes down to it,” he says as the two of you enter the subway and find a seat. “I didn’t want the boys to find out, because I didn’t want them to think I was going behind their backs. They all deserve a chance, and me trying to find a way to bend the rules wouldn’t have gone over well.”

You marvel at how perfectly his hand fits in yours, sighing contentedly as the subway rumbles on. “You always have been a rule-breaker.”

You’re exhausted from having run all over Seoul, nearly falling asleep as you get back to Taehyung’s car. He grins at you, turning on the heater and beginning the drive back to your apartment. Your eyes struggle to remain open, slipping closed every few seconds.

“Sleep, jagiya,” Taehyung urges. “I’ll wake you up when we get there.”

“N-no,” you say between yawns. “I’m fine.”

Taehyung chuckles to himself when you fall asleep about thirty seconds later. The sound drifts into your dreams, where you dream of art museums and the Han river.

Needless to say, you’re a bit disappointed to be woken up from your beautiful dream when Taehyung opens up the passenger side door and crouches before you. He can’t help but laugh at how adorable you look, completely disoriented and staring at him like you can’t quite place where you’ve seen him before.

“Hey,” he whispers. “We’re home.”

Gently unbuckling your seatbelt, Taehyung helps you out of the car and only continues to laugh as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your head in his chest.

“I’m so tired,” you groan. “I wanna go to bed.”

“Well, you can. You just have to unlock your door first, jagi.”

Somehow, in your half-asleep state you manage to fish your keys out of your bag. Taehyung helps you unlock the door, swooping in to help you when you nearly trip over your doorway.

“Woah, watch where you’re going,” he teases. Suddenly the world turns sideways as Tae places his hands under your knees and around your waist, literally sweeping you off your feet. “How about we get you to bed in one piece?”

Some small, semi-conscious part of your brain is currently screaming about how embarrassing yet attractive this entire situation is, but for the life of you, you can’t tell why. Instead, you opt to nuzzle in a little closer to Tae’s sweater as he uses his foot to kick the door shut.

“I love this sweater,” you mumble, eyes falling shut again. “You look so good in this sweater, did you know that?”

“Oh...thanks. And yes, that’s why I wore it.”

You hiss, swatting at his chest. “That was very narcissistic of you.”

“You’re too tired to walk, but you’re using words like narcissistic?” He shoots back. Making his way through the dark house, he enters your room and sets you down on the edge of the bed. You sit up straight, watching as his silhouette turns on your bedside lamp. Squinting at him, he crouches down before you, resting a light hand on your knee.

“Thank you,” you whisper.

“You’re welcome,” he whispers back. “You need anything before I go?”

Always finding a way to push the limits, you smirk down at him. “Are kisses really off-limits- ow!” You rub your knee where he just flicked it, appalled at him as he straightens up.

“Don’t get greedy,” he teases with a raised brow. Heading out of the room, he turns back to look at you from the doorway. “Goodnight.”

It’s this moment that you memorize. The way the light from the lamp barely reaches him, his dark hair a little messy and a tired smile on his face. The way he leans up against your door, looking for all the world like he belongs here.

“Goodnight, Tae.”

Your ears strain to hear his footsteps, a fissure forming in your heart as you hear him closing the door and driving off into the night. Eventually, sleep takes over.

Even as you dream, the feeling of being wrapped up in Taehyung’s arms while sitting above the Han River lingers.

main masterlist

again, your opinion matters! especially in this series! if you’re comfortable with it, please please please comment or send me an ask with your thoughts! (i.e. chemistry, how this date differed from Hobi’s date, ect.) thank you for reading, and I’ll see you next Saturday with date #3!!

taglist is open, click on the link at the top of the post or let me know if you’d like to join!

taglist: @baepsaetay @dreamcatcherjiah @kookie-vuitton @thecaffeinatedscribbles @moon-write @fangirl125reader @heishichoulevi @knjkitten @sacha-cff @vik7797 @delacyrose224 @luvtaeha @fanfictionreader05 @mininimmy @dreadity  @starlight-night0 @luzaroon @seaoffangirling @prachi05 @fangirl125reader @eusticenatalie @hesmyphenominiall​

[thecreaturecodex]

Lux Slug

“Glowworm” © Kenzer and Co., by Anthony Carpenter

[Monsters in the 5e Hacklopedias often have multiple alternate names, and I’m going with one of these alternates for my primary name for this monster. Because the name “glowworm” is used to refer to a number of different real animals, none of which are like this luminous cow-catcher maggot ooze.]

Lux Slug CR 7 N Aberration This massive creature glows with brilliant light. It is shaped somewhat like an enormous caterpillar, with thousands of finger-sized cilia running along its underside instead of legs. A pair of tusks grows from its head, curving upward in a wedge shape. Above these tusks grow a cluster of huge lidless eyes.

The lux slug, also called a beacon jelly or glowworm, is a subterranean generalist that defends itself with light. They consume almost all organic matter they come across, resting on top of it and taking it in through a series of toothless maws running parallel along its belly. Although a lux slug can survive on only fungi, algal slime and occasional guano or dead animals, they require high protein diets in order to lay eggs, and may attack mobile creatures according to primeval mating urges.

A lux slug’s most notable feature is its glow, which shines like a beacon in Darklands tunnels. A lux slug cannot dampen or modulate this light, which remains until the creature is slain, and even after. This light acts to repel some creatures and lures others closer. If a lux slug desires to feed, it bowls prey over with its tusks, then runs over them repeatedly until they stop moving. The tusks of a lux slug act as shields, protecting its face from blows and deflecting projectile attacks. Lux slugs are only half-hearted carnivores, and will attempt to escape from a fight if badly injured.

Lux slugs are simultaneous hermaphrodites. Once they are sufficiently filled with protein to make eggs, they leave trails of slime that are luminous and laden with pheromones—these slime trails radiate light like a candle for as long as two weeks. A lux slug following the trail of another will eventually catch up, whereupon the pair will fertilize each other’s eggs. Eggs and juveniles are protected by their parent until the young are roughly man-sized. It is while protecting their offspring that lux slugs are most likely to fight to the death.

When a lux slug is slain, its radiant organ continues to glow for some time. This is a crystalline structure about the size of a human head, which radiates bright light as per the slug’s luminous ability for one day per HD of the slug. If alchemically treated (reagents requiring a DC 25 Craft: alchemy check and 8 hours of work), the duration of the glow is tripled before finally fading. A radiant organ sells for 750 gp, or three times that if alchemically treated.

Lux Slug                   CR 7 XP 3,200 N Huge aberration Init +4; Senses low-light vision, Perception +6, tremorsense 30 ft. Defense AC 20, touch 8, flat-footed 20 (-2 size, +12 natural) hp 84 (8d8+48) Fort +8, Ref +2, Will +6 Defensive Abilities parry projectile; Immune mind-influencing effects Offense Speed 30 ft. Melee gore +11 (2d6+9 plus trip) Space 15 ft.; Reach 10 ft. Special Attacks crushing trample, trample (Reflex DC 20, 2d6+9) Statistics Str 23, Dex 10, Con 22, Int 1, Wis 10, Cha 5 Base Atk +6; CMB +14; CMD 24 (cannot be tripped) Feats Combat Reflexes, Deflect Arrows (B), Improved Initiative, Vital Strike, Weapon Focus (gore) Skills Climb +12, Escape Artist +9, Perception +6; Racial Modifiers +4 Escape Artist SQ luminous Ecology Environment underground Organization solitary or pair Treasure incidental (see above) Special Abilities Crushing Trample (Ex) A lux slug deals double damage with its trample attack against prone opponents. Luminous (Su) A lux slug radiates bright light in a 60 foot radius. This light functions as a dalylight spell for the purposes of interacting with darkness effects and light sensitivity. Parry Projectile (Ex/Su) A lux slug gains Deflect Arrows as a bonus feat. It can use its Deflect Arrows feat to defend itself against rays, ranged touch attacks and even magic missile spells.

[ecto-american]

Stuck (Stubbornly)

Phic Phight Oneshot for @deuynndoodles​ : Jack and Maddie are stuck in the Ghost Zone. Fortunately for them, Phantom's around and willing to help out. However, they'll rather be arrested by a ghost warden and put in ghost jail before they'd allow some teenage menace to help them. Oh wait...

Read on AO3 or FFN

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

"Should we call Jazz or Danny?" Jack suggested.

Maddie stared out into the unending void of the Ghost Zone. It hurt to think that their voyage, a trip that they had been planning out for months, would end so soon already, but they had barely made any progress when they realized just how much fuel the Specter Speeder was guzzling. Something was wrong.

"...Not yet," she determined. "We should have emergency fuel. We should be able to get back without any problems. Can you refill?"

"You got it," Jack replied, and he got out of the co-pilot seat. She could hear him go to the back, and shuffling around. He didn't say anything for a while, and that immediately began to unnerve her, but she kept her attention on the dashboard, trying to think of what went wrong when building. Was their fuel lines loose? Was there gas leaking everywhere? "Uh, Mads? I'm not seeing it?"

Her blood froze, but no need to panic. Maybe he just didn't see…

Maddie walked to the back and checked. And checked. Moved some stuff around, checked some more.

They had no emergency fuel.

"Why don't we go outside and check the engine?" Jack suggested. "Maybe we can figure something out." With a dry mouth, she nodded, and they hesitantly went outside to check.

There were no ghosts around, thankfully, just an endless green void. They knew that they would be safe breathing in the GZ air, thanks to their prior tests and experiments. They hooked themselves to a rope using a carabiner clip, the other end tied tightly to the speeder. Floating unnerved her, and she kept a hand on the speeder as they went to the front of the speeder. Jack popped the hood, and smoke floated out, making Maddie's heart sink. This was definitely not a good sign at all, or something that could be a simple fix.

"Need some help?"

Maddie looked over her shoulder to see…

"Absolutely not," she scowled. Phantom was floating nearby.

"Are you sure?" he asked. He floated up a bit higher to glance at their vehicle. "Looks like you got. Well, uh, basically car trouble."

"Leave. Now."

Phantom opened his mouth to say more, but Maddie pulled her ecto-gun out.

"We don't want help from some lowlife ghost!" she hissed. Phantom put his hands up in surrender and flew away.

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

An hour passed, and they decided to take a break working on the engine. Every possible problem that she could think of had been exhausted, and she had to take a break to both cool down and think. She sat on the steps leading into the speeder, with Jack deciding to lay on the floor of the inside.

"Fuel line wasn't broken, none of the lines were cut or had knicks. There's no reason it should be draining so much gas," Jack thunk aloud. "There shouldn't be anything besides the engine that the gas is going to, and there's no weird random connections to anywhere else. The battery's still good."

"And we forgot the emergency fuel," Maddie slumped over. Jack sighed.

"It's my own fault," he replied. "I should have checked to make sure Jazz and Danny had properly put all the supplies in. A proper exploration team always triple checks before a voyage."

Maddie could only give a low hum of agreement as she stared out into the zone. She felt somebody pat the side of the speeder, and she scowled as she saw Phantom grinning at her, giving a half way.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed.

"I brought help this time," Phantom told her, and he jerked a thumb behind him. It was finally then that she noticed the Red Huntress. Maddie raised an eyebrow.

"How in the world…" she murmured, only to trail off as she stared at the two of them. Jack sat up, and he poked his head out of the speeder.

"Oh dope! It's my favorite huntress!" Jack boomed. Red seemed bashful at the comment, shifting her weight onto her other foot and rubbing her upper arm.

"I mean, if you don't trust me or want my help, I figured you'd be willing to let a human help," Phantom explained, motioning towards Red.

"So, do you need help?" Red finally spoke up. She reached down to pat her left calf. "I have some tools with me, but I can always go and fetch more."

Something in Maddie's gut told her that this was very, very odd. Humans and ghosts working together so...willingly like this. She had taken note that Phantom and Red hadn't hunted each other down or fought like they used to, but she just assumed that they didn't quite run into each other that much anymore. Both were unpredictable with odd schedules and routines.

She glanced at Jack, who despite his initial enthusiasm, seemed to share her feelings, and she shook her head no.

"We'll be fine," she insisted. "You two should leave."

Red stared at Phantom, who shrugged his shoulders.

"So, wanna just go get some boba tea?" Phantom asked.

"And just leave them here?" Red scowled, motioning to the Fentons.

"They don't want our help," he replied. Red glanced from Phantom and the Fentons, who studied the two of them. She finally shrugged as well.

The two began to idly chat as they flew off, their conversation becoming more and more distant.

"That was weird," Maddie mused.

"Yeah, I thought she and Phantom were rivals," Jack mused. Maddie shrugged. Right now she wasn't too invested in the mystery. She'd worry about that later when they got home.

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

Judging by their phones (which they had worriedly learned that they oh-so-helpfully had no reception in the land of the undead), another hour passed since Phantom and Red had left. Jack was deep into the engine, fiddling with a possible solution to the problem as Maddie stood nearby. She continued to think as she looked around. She was surprised that they hadn't been bothered by now.

"Trespassing in an unauthorized vehicle that is also a real world item," a deep southern voice boomed. Well, she absolutely spoke too soon.

They whipped their heads to see a huge, hulking figure, an all white man with a black hat, black gloves and wearing a suit of white.

"Ghost!" Jack squawked. He scrambled to grab his gun, Maddie already having hers drawn. The ghost frowned deeply. Maddie was finally very aware of just how many ghosts were surrounding them. Too many to count, but they all looked exactly like the ghosts that terrorized Amity Park years before, all identical and matching in uniform that resembled a SWAT team. There was also vehicles resembling police cars and police vans.

"Resisting arrest. That's against the rules," he continued. He opened a large green and white book in his hands, flipping to another page. "Assault and battery with a deadly weapon." He glanced up at them with an angry glare. "Y'all are going away for a long, long time."

"We're not going anywhere," Jack frowned. He charged up his weapon.

Maddie looked around, and she shivered anxiously. There was no way they could take on all these ghosts. She nudged Jack, and he side-eyed her curiously. She lowered her weapon, and she used her head to motion around them. Jack blinked as he looked himself, and all of his confidence left him. He also lowered his weapon.

"We'll go," Maddie finally spoke. The ghost smirked, and he knocked on the side of a police van. The back opened up.

"Surrender your weapons," he ordered.

One of the SWAT ghosts came forward with his arms outstretched. Reluctantly, the adults handed their weapons over, detaching themselves from the speeder and getting into the van.

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

Their cell was a lot like a normal cell, and it was just them. Iron bars, no windows, single toilet, and four bunk beds. Jack was laying on one of the beds, facing the fall, as Maddie laid on the one across from him, staring up at the bunk bed above her.

Of course. Of course they ended up in ghost jail. It was just their luck. Though a scientist part of her was giddy at knowing that ghosts had some kind of legal system! Who would have known!

As she tried to start figuring out what on earth to do, she heard something banging against the jail bars.

She immediately sat up, staring to see Phantom making the noise by banging something in his hand on the bars. He was staring at them with a bright smile, and it only made her mood drop even more.

"Phantom!" Maddie hissed, standing fully and going up to the bars. "How did you find us?"

"We came back to check on you guys and see if you changed your minds," Phantom explained. Jack got up from his own bed to come over, looking surprised to see the infamous ghost teen. "Technus and Skulker were looting your speeder, and they said Walker arrested you. So we came by as quickly as we could."

The Fenton adults could see Red nearby, glancing around the corner. She was keeping watch.

"We're not going with you," Jack replied. Phantom rolled his eyes.

"Okay, and what? Stay here forever? Never see your kids again?" he asked. Their faces instantly dropped. "So do you wanna go home or not?"

Maddie narrowed her eyes at him before noticing that he was holding a metallic-looking cup of boba tea and raising an eyebrow.

"You brought a snack with you," she said. Phantom shrugged, offering it to her.

"Want a sip?"

"No! Just!" Maddie glanced at Jack worriedly, and he mirrored her expression. They, unfortunately, knew that they really...didn't have a choice. "Get us out of here!"

"Danny, you may wanna hurry it up," Red's voice called out softly to them. Maddie did a double take. Oh yeah. Danny Phantom. Huh, she kinda forgot about that.

Phantom nodded, and he dropped the boba tea, letting it float in the air as he phased them out of the jail cell. Maddie stared at him.

"Wait, you can just phase through?" she asked. Phantom shrugged.

"Uh, sorta yes, sorta no," he replied, grabbing his tea.

"Danny!" Red's voice hissed. Phantom glanced to her.

"Okay, so super quick rundown of Ghost Zone rules. In the Ghost Zone, you guys are the ghosts, so you basically can fly and phase through objects, so Red can phase through objects and you guys too, but this is also a human cell that only I can get you out, and speaking out getting out, we need to leave. Now," Phantom quickly explained. As soon as he finished, he motioned for them to follow him.

He began to fly towards Red, and they jogged after him. Phantom peered around the corner before pulling back. Red did too.

"How's our escape route looking?" Phantom asked. He took a sip of his drink as Red pulled up a map on her suit. She studied it for a bit.

"Hmm. We may run into some trouble," Red mused. "Best bet is for me to take Mr. and Mrs. Fenton and phase with them out of here, and…" She gave a weird pause. "We'll uh. Wait for you to escape on your own." Phantom sucked on his drink, and the sound of air coming through as he ran out of boba tea grinded Maddie's nerves.

"Oh would you just!" Maddie scowled, and she slapped the cup out of Phantom's hands.

"Hey! I paid for that!" Phantom cried out. He scrambled to pick it up. "They were having an unlimited refills special if you got that cup!" Red snorted in amusement.

"Danny, they kicked you out for getting too many refills anyway," she reminded him. Phantom made a face.

"Well maybe they shouldn't advertise it as unlimited refills then," he retorted.

"Most people don't drink twelve cups of boba tea," she replied.

"Maybe I should be rewarded for being able to drink that much then."

"Hm, we'll debate it later," Red replied. "Look, I'll get them out and meet you on the other side. Got it?"

"Got it," Phantom replied. To Maddie's horror and shock, Red lifted her visor up, but not all the way. Just enough to expose her lips, and she leaned into Phantom to give him a light peck on the lips.

"Be careful," she told him. Phantom nodded.

"I will," he promised. "If I'm not with you in five minutes. Just." He paused. "Leave without me, get the Fentons home, and then come back for me." Red nodded as her visor went all the way down.

"Grab my hands," Red instructed the Fentons. Maddie blinked, reluctantly taking one of her hands. Jack took the other. Red summoned her board, jumping in the air and allowing it to manifest beneath her. She held onto them tightly and flew through the walls.

Instinctively, Maddie closed her eyes as she flew through. Only to feel no impact. A blur of walls impaired her vision with constant flashes of the darkness of being in a thick jail wall and the light of the prison rooms and hallways. She blinked as the neutral green skies of the Ghost Zone finally greeted her, and Red continued flying until they were a decent distance from the prison. And now that she had a moment to think…

"What the hell are you thinking?" she exclaimed to Red. The huntress snapped her attention to her in confusion.

"What? You would have died if we let you stay in there!" she scowled.

"No, not that!" Maddie clarified. "I mean, thank you so much for helping us, but you? And Phantom?"

"Exactly!" Jack agreed. "He's an absolute menace! He's a danger! Don't you guys fight? What happened to all of that?"

She could see a glimpse of Red's face under her heavily tinted visor, and Maddie was sure that the girl looked embarrassed and was likely turning as red as her suit.

"Oh man, it's a looong story," Red sighed heavily. "Uh, best and easiest and quickest way I can explain it is; a lot of the things that made me angry with him was a misunderstanding, and I found out that he's...actually a really sweet guy. I know it's weird to say, but, um. Well, I've never met a guy who was so kind, thoughtful and romantic. My life's kinda hectic, and he just...he really goes out of his way to make it easier on me."

"How so?" Jack wondered.

"Well, like. He does a lot of my household chores and stuff like laundry, bringing me lunch when I have long shifts at work, listening to me when I have a bad day," she explained. "He makes life a lot easier and better."

How cute. If it wasn't between a dead teenage menace and this poor, obviously manipulated girl. It honestly reminded Maddie a lot of her own Danny and his little girlfriend, Valerie. Valerie told her a few times about Danny doing some of her chores at home since Valerie was so busy working and doing school. It kinda pissed Maddie off, since Danny never seemed to remember his own chores at home, but she never felt like bringing it up to him because, well, at least he was really good to her. She'd be ashamed of him if he was any lesser.

"Hey!" Phantom called out as he zoomed towards them. "Let's go! Quick!"

Red nodded. She passed Jack off to Phantom, and the two teenagers flew the Fentons home.

[space-city-traffic]

yet again im back on my bullshit so... (gazes with mixed feelings at the TV show Firefly) i could fix him.

my extremely long thoughts about my Own Personal Good Version of Firefly (with plenty of spoilers for the show and the movie) under the cut:

things that are getting axed first thing no question:

out with the whole “let’s add in a thin veneer of Chinese cultural aesthetics out of context for ~flavor~” deal. just no.

instead, let’s hire some actors from a bunch of different cultures and work with them to figure out how their characters would bring those cultures into space with them!! and also hopefully bring some experiences with immigration/alienation/travel into it, since the Whole Core of Firefly is about how humanity always brings our doomed and silly and stubborn and unique warmth with us even into the cold void where nothing is familiar or homey in the slightest.

let’s respect our sex worker character shall we?

i do appreciate that Inara’s work as a companion is described as legitimate and well respected in the show. however please stop having your captain and hero call her a wh*re every five seconds against her clearly expressed wishes and portraying this as just a totally acceptable thing

let’s be more respectful of our characters of color and also have some more diversity, shall we?

others have put it better than me but yeah, the way Zoe and Book are treated is very uncomfy, and the rest of the show is depressingly monochromatic. come on let’s do better.

stop the weird confederacy hat tips

again others have pointed these out with much more thoroughness than I could, but the names of some characters and locations, as well as some of the language used to describe the browncoats, has uncomfortably confederate vibes. instead i propose we very Clearly tip our hats to the Alliance equaling space capitalism instead! you can’t go wrong with space capitalism as a villain.

don’t! make! the! psychotic! character! violent!

listen i love River Tam with my whole heart. but you should absolutely not portray your only character with psychosis as violent because of that psychosis!!!!!!! and yeah, a huge part of her character is that her brain got fucked up by the alliance and so she hallucinates and is also a super ninja. but like. she doesn’t need to be a super ninja for her character to work, okay? the crew does not need to be scared of her for her character to work, okay??? more on this later bc it would take a lot of care and nuance to make her character work but i really think it can be done

things we are absolutely keeping:

found family tropes my fucking beloved

this should be self evident. this is why the show is as appealing as it is despite its flaws, at least in my eyes.

malcolm reynolds, the knight in dusty armor

there’s something so appealing to me about what Mal stands for. because at his core is this ridiculous, silly, stubborn, doomed devotion to what he thinks is important and right, a romantic idealism thinly covered by cynical cowboy platitudes that he thinks make his bleeding heart totally invisible. and he is so obvious and entirely incorrect. bless. this is a man who will do anything for his family, who charges into swordfights to defend his friend from a man who wants to turn her into an object despite having no clue how to hold a sword. at his worst, he starts brawls in bars just for the martyr’s thrill of being persecuted for supporting the right; at his best, he inspires downright religious belief from his crew because he represents a romantic and chivalrous and doomed dedication to the right thing over any practical concerns. and then he throws a “selfish” quip over it with 100% confidence that everyone fell for his clever distraction and believes him to be a dirtbag. he’s oblivious and ridiculous and god he makes me want to be a better person because he’s just so goddamned sincere. stupid, but sincere. 10/10 himbo. <3

Mal and Inara ultraslowburn friends to enemies to friends to lovers to enemies to friends to lovers to friends to...

there’s nothing i love more than a ship that’s just two people who know each other way too well, and they’re each the only one who knows the other well enough to call them out on their bullshit. the way Mal and Inara interact in the show sometimes makes me uncomfy but like. the core of their relationship has to stay.

space western aesthetic

i need the cows on a spaceship scene to stay like i need air okay

that sweet sweet religious shit

mal, who lost his faith in gd and a whole lot else during the war. who lost his faith in himself, and now feels he has to hide the part of him that still wants to be good, because he knows he can’t be anymore, and he feels like it’s embarrassing for a guy like him to want something so unattainable. who takes a preacher on board, and the preacher has lost something, too. the preacher has his own past, and his own questions. but not questions like the observant neurodivergent girl, the one who wants to interact with and understand this thing that’s so important to him, but it just doesn’t click with how her brain works and she feels like something needs to be fixed, either the Bible or herself. and Mal takes care of them all, and slowly, he begins to find gd again, not in a prayer but in humanity. humanity doesn’t need to be fixed, like the alliance thinks. the shining imperfect strawberry sweetness of it in his family’s smiles is something to be worshiped and served and devoted to. and he finds he has something to believe in again. (and his crew find that he’s given them someone to believe in, too. and maybe suddenly he’s a saint.)

and finally, my brilliant ideas as to what i would like to add:

TRANS WOMAN KAYLEE RIGHTS

listen her femininity is so important to me okay? it’s so thrilled about everything that’s pretty, from dresses to the spaceship’s electric innards, and it’s so non-traditional and grease stained until it’s not and it’s pink and ruffly and twirly, and she never sees any of it as a contradiction, because none of it contradicts, it’s all just her! her gender is warmth and love and prettiness, feeling pretty and appreciating the pretty and making her friends’ days pretty too.

i want us to find out she’s trans in that episode with the ball, and i want us to find out alongside Mal who just never asked or never realized. Kaylee gasps and squeals at the dress in the shop window and Mal makes an off handed, ill considered comment, and then... someone yanks him aside and hisses a few very significant words in his ear. and suddenly he remembers what the blue white and pink she painted all over the engine room means, and he knows he has something to make right. so he buys her that dress himself and lets her know just how pretty she looks, and when he walks into that ball with her displayed on his arm like something precious, he looks the proudest out of any man there. and she notices. for a few seconds, of course, until there’s chocolate, and ‘nara, and a chandelier—and some horrible girls, but she’s used to that, until—suddenly, she finds her people. a group of old men who light up when she jokes about compression coils and whack presumptuous boys who ask her to dance. they adopt her as a treasured granddaughter, and Mal is beaming at her like a proud dad, and she finds that one of her new elderly friends gazes a little too long at her bracelet, and so she gives it to xem and teaches xem a few new words, and... it’s a good day, huh? it’s a really good day. (of course, then the captain has to go and punch somebody in the face, but it was a real nice party up until then.)

also she and Simon are both transhet t4t im correct and you know it

time for a better River Tam

the first thing we’ve established is that this version of her is not unpredictably violent and the crew is not scared of her!!!! it makes no sense to take a kid who’s primarily brilliant, experiment on her brain, give her telepathic powers....... and tack on the fact that she also has super strength and speed and dexterity and what not, AND say that they programmed her to be super violent. no! no. not only is that extremely harmful rep, that’s also just stupid.

instead!! my version of River is in fact not terrifying to the crew, but is actually the one they feel safest around. River has always been totally blunt, she was one of those kids you could tell realllllly early was autistic, and she doesn’t like being disengenous at all. so you can always trust her to tell the truth and not play weird passive aggressive games or have any hidden agenda, which makes her just a really chill person to be around. also, one of her longtime special interests is music and dance, so whether or not she’s nonverbal on a given day, there will always be some sort of beautiful sound when she’s around. she does have the singing voice of a dying crow unfortunately but that’s ok bc Simon’s is even worse and they’re both incredibly competitive so you’ll at least get free entertainment out of the affair.

my version of River does have psychosis and hallucinations because of the trauma of the experiments, and they are really troubling to her. she and Simon work together to find ways to cope and meds that help, and it’s a process, but there are some things that help.

the only thing she gained from the academy was the ability to hear people’s thoughts and sense the future a little bit. and yeah, that led to her picking up a few spooky secrets at the beginning, which, yikes. and for a while, it was hard to figure out which voices were real and which were hallucinations. but around her friends, she always feels safe to ask “did you just think about triple cheese burritos or was that just a me thing?”, and they’ll always tell her the truth no matter how embarrassing their thoughts are, bc it’s important to all of them to respect her and help her sort accurately through what’s reality and what’s not. and bit by bit, she gets better and better at figuring out what kinds of things tend to be telepathy and what kinds of things tend to be psychosis, and that each one feels a little different. and because of the trust and respect and support of her found family she’s able to do that in a safe environment!!!

trans man Simon rights

listen i wanted to keep him as just a side note on Kaylee’s list but he is my son and he’s important to my heart so here goes

out on the outer rim where Kaylee’s from, gender ain’t much of a big deal, there’s an individualistic quality to life out there, and so if the trail you blaze is the trail of a woman or a man or neither or both, that’s respected even in the rare cases where it’s not outright encouraged. but in the inner planets, where competition and connections and public faces and family names are everything, you have to be what’s expected of you to survive. you can’t change your brand, you can’t be anything other than what your family planned for you since before you were born, it’s incredibly hard to survive in such a hyper competitive environment, and so your very identity becomes just a tool in how to market yourself for better success.

needless to say Simon (just as autistic as his little sister and also very trans) fuckin hated it there. but he was very good at it. correction: he was very good at his very specific field of STEM, good enough to where people stopped talking about how cute he looked in bows and started talking about how impressive his work was from a very young age. and his work had no gender. he could be whatever he wanted to in equations. so that was where he could express himself, and gd, he got so much praise for it, he never wanted to stop.

not until he discovered that his sister needed him, and ran away, and needed a disguise, and realized... suddenly, every stifling rule and prying eye was a million miles away. he was freefloating, freefalling, with none of the charted paths he’d been following all his life... so you know what? fuck it. he’s always enjoyed the name Simon. and since it’s not on any legal records, it’ll make him just that much more untraceable.

and on Serenity, starting over with new people who never knew him before his transition feels like an unbelievable blessing that just dropped right into his lap. he has to keep up the secrecy, he has to make sure they never find out who he used to be, because gd, it’s so nice when they look at him and say his name right, and he doesn’t know if he can handle losing that, not when it’s so new and so important to the person he’s finally becoming. but then one day, the unthinkable happens, the wanted posters for his arrest have an old name on them, they’re looking for the Tam sisters, and... nothing changes. the crew of Serenity could not give even a tenth of a percent of a fuck, and it doesn’t seem like they even know they’re supposed to. huh. that’s new. Simon could get used to that, he thinks.

i’m sure there’s more i could add, but it’s 4:30 in the morning now, so if more occurs to me, ill simply add it in a reblog tomorrow. if you’ve read down this far, i am in love with you. please let me know your Better Firefly ideas, too, bc im always down to yell about this show!!!