#and heartbroken at husk’s reaction

[notherpuppet]

I’m so overwhelmed with what we saw,,,, I’m trying to grasp onto one train of thought

#hazbin hotel spoilers #hazbin hotel #I can’t even begin #what order do I go in #chaggie my otp forever #omg vaggie is so fucking badass #Carmilla is THAT GIRL FOR REAL HER SONG WAS SO GOOD #Susan LMFAO #Vox was sooo fucking funny #Lucifer is so cool #the Adam alastor fight was FUCKEN SICK #alastor is scared af of whoever he made his deal with holy shit #ahhh also Charlie made a deal with alastor!? #and i still don’t even freaking know if alastor is for the gang or against omggg #cracked up at Lucifer’s reaction to seeing alastor was still alive #and heartbroken at husk’s reaction #huskerdust is huskerdusting #MY DEAR SIR PENTIOUS #I hope the egg boys joined him in heaven too #Emily’s joy I fucking love her #oh also loot is CRAZY #and Lilith girl I know you wasn’t chillin on a beach for seven years #OMG QUEEN NIFTY

[chaoticace2005]

I’m not saying we need more betrayal angst fics. But WE NEED MORE BETRAYAL ANGST FICS! The hotel’s reactions? Husk and Niffty being forced to leave? Charlie being heartbroken? Vaggie hating herself for not “keeping Charlie safe?” Huskerdust (friendship or romantic, either way) being ripped apart? The main cast literally cutting back down to the original 3, who all have to deal with this betrayal in different ways while all blaming themselves for letting the others in?

#hazbin hotel #husker hazbin hotel #alastor hazbin hotel #husk hazbin hotel #niffty #charlie morningstar #vaggie #angel dust #angel dust hazbin hotel #huskerdust #angelhusk

[tw1l1te]

blueberry₊˚✩⊹sal fisher x reader₊˚✩⊹

(Not edited, so please forgive men if there are grammatical/spelling errors. Random thought I came up with. Please let me know if you'd like more backstory/a continuation of this!

Sitting on top of Addison Apartments was a place to think. A place of silence except the sounds of breathing and the occasional shuffling around. You haven't been up here in a while, since the fight you and Sal had a few months ago.

₊˚✩⊹

"God you're such a hypocrite. You keep telling others to take care of themselves and not isolate, but yet you don't give two shits and don't even take your own advice. Not answering your phone or leaving your apartment for over two months? Do you know how worried Ash was? How heartbroken and distant Larry became?? We thought you were fucking dead Y/n. And after all that you decide to drop by and ask 'what's up'?" Sal seethed, his tone getting more hostile by the second.

You don't think you've ever seen him so angry.

"I'm sorry Sal, I didn't mean to make you all worry. That was the last thing I wanted you guys to feel. You know I don't handle my mental health well," you murmured, avoiding Sal's eyes. You could already feel the tears streaming down your face.

"Listen I get it Y/n, but you can't just cut us off like that. You made us all husks of what we used to be. Do you know how many nights I stayed up till the early morning just staring at my phone, hoping you'd at least call?? I couldn't even remember what you sounded like until today."

"Bluebe-"

"Don't call me that. You have no right calling me that after the months of heartbreak and worry you've caused us. Every time this happens, I get my hopes up in that you won't shut us out and disappear. I get disappointed every. Single. Time. You're lucky that Larry, Ash, and Todd are such forgiving people. You don't deserve them."

You mulled over his words. He was right. You didn't deserve them. All the affection and love that they gave you all for you to throw it down the drain when you got too ill. The hundreds of phone calls from Ash. The constant check-ins from Larry over the walkie-talkie, talking about stupid shit that happened that day or speaking softly about how much he missed you. Todd emailing you every few days asking how you were holding up and if you needed anything, but eventually those emails automatically went to spam. And Sal. Sal was probably the hardest to avoid.

He sat outside your apartment door for hours, talking, pleading you to let him in to talk. He brought snacks and slid them under the door, worried if you were eating enough. Playing his guitar for you through the walkie-talkie, hoping it would soothe you or cheer you up. Sliding random doodles and letters under the door so you had something to help remind you about how much they cared about you. How much he cared for you. You kept them all under the bed in a shoe box, reading over every word and cat doodle every single night.

"I can't do this again, Y/n. You've hurt me over and over and over again. Each time I expected it to end different."

He took a pause, waiting for a reaction or a word from you.

"We're done. I don't know about the others, but don't bother writing or talking to me. I can't do this anymore."

And with that, he headed downstairs, not sparing you a single glance back.

₊˚✩⊹

You snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the rooftop door creak open.

You don't look back, hoping the person would get a hint and leave.

You hear the footsteps get closer, and stopping right beside you.

"Didn't think you came up here anymore." he mumbled, shifting uncomfortably.

Fuck. He was probably the last person you wanted to see right now.

"I come here to think." you stated, looking out to the street and nearby houses.

"Y/n, I'm sor-" "I'm leaving." you cut him off, already knowing what he was going to say.

You've thought about your time in Nockfell and decided that it was time for you to move on. You couldn't be stuck in a time capsule forever. The more time had passed, the more it had started to hurt being here and see reminders of what had happened. Reminders of him.

"What?" he whispered, finally looking at you.

"I need to move on. I can't be here anymore." you stated, trying to keep your voice level.

"You were right, I can't keep leaving people in the dark and constantly worrying them. I'll keep doing that if I stay here. I need to be somewhere else, I don't know where, but I'll figure it out."

"Y/n. If this is about what I said, I'm sorry, I was in a bad state too. I was just so worried that something had happened-"

"Sal, please stop. I'm not changing my mind. I'm leaving tomorrow morning-"

"What about Ash? Larry and Todd? What about me?? I need you here. It was wrong of me to shut you out, to ignore you. I'm so sorry, Y/n."

You finally looked at him, right into his blue eyes.

His hair had gotten longer, choppier, like he'd tried to cut it himself. No longer in the pigtails you loved. Seems like you'd both changed.

"I need to go, Sal."

You walk away, not looking back because if you did, you wouldn't be able to leave. You wouldn't be able to leave them. Leave Nockfell. Leave him.

"I'll see you around, Blueberry."

₊˚✩⊹

#sally face #sally face x reader #sal fisher x reader #sal fisher x y/n #sal fisher #enemies to lovers #sally face x you

[shootinwebs]

Some mildly to moderately upsetting Alastor headcanons I have:

(content warnings: abuse implied, sexual assault/forced siring implied, Angel Dust abuse mention, child death, child abuse)

-He was abused in his life on Earth. Anything that reminds him of it either sparks a reaction of rage (i.e. when Husk reminded him that he's "on a leash" -- because that part of Alastor's life in Hell reminds him of his abuse in life, for one thing), excessive smiling (in a Stepford way -- a passive-aggressive display of nothing being wrong), or makes him want to be alone. He obviously never healed much from it.

-One of the abusers was his father, who was the same towards his mother.

-Alastor doesn't actually hate children. He had a child in life (daughter, named Zuri) (illegitimate/unplanned and also non-consensual on his side), and the circumstances made it so he had to hide away in the woods with her to keep her (and himself) alive. She was killed when she was 10 months old.

-Alastor has an altar dedicated to her in his room at the hotel, with the one memento he has of her: a wooden crocodile carved out of a piece of slash pine, with Zuri's teeth marks in its snout and tail.

-The person who has Alastor under their control knows about Zuri, and their version of "get back in the studio Angel/I own you" is a mocking "You sure would love to see your little girl again, wouldn't you? Too bad..."

-Because of Zuri and what happened to her, Alastor is actually a fierce protector of children. The primary people he killed when he was alive were anyone who caused harm to children.

-He has an understanding that revenge is a lie. Because, no matter how many people he killed for the sake of his daughter, it was never enough. He was still angry and heartbroken.

-He has told one person about the particularly horrific things he's been through: Angel. He empathizes with Angel a lot.

-The first time he told Angel such personal things was one night when he was helping a high and injured Angel get through the front door, get bandaged up, and into bed.

-Angel noticed that Alastor wasn't smiling when he was helping Angel with his wounds, as if he actually cared and didn't think of Angel's pain and situation as pitiful or horrifically entertaining. Angel got angry and said, "Where's the usual grin plastered on your goddamn face? You think I'd believe you trying to show that you actually give a shit about me? Or about Charlie or anyone!?"

-Alastor felt in that moment that the only way he could prove he actually cared was by telling his own story -- but only of his life on Earth, not of his suffering in Hell by whoever has ownership of him.

-It was actually the fact that Husk poured himself out to Angel that inspired Alastor to do the same.

-A major reason he is always smiling (besides that he loves scaring people and being mysterious) is because pretending he's fine and not in horrible pain helps him feel a one-up over the things he's been through. Underneath the smile, he feels broken.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #headcanon

[evansbby]

BESTIE, HAPPY POYT 4 DAY, OMGGGGG

My ask contains spoilers for POYT 4, so girlies who haven’t read it yet pls don’t read any further 🙈 I don’t want to spoil the treasure that this chapter is!!!

Okay firstly your writing is so incredible and beautiful!!! That’s an understatement - I’m really struggling to find the words to convey how blown away I am by your gorgeous writing and story-telling. You got across the raw emotions from omega and Steve so realistically and beautifully, the transition from each scene was so effortless and flowed so well - POYT is ten times better than any published book by reputable authors that I have ever read!!!

O M G Bucky was so cruel!!! It was so downright evil of him to leave her out there!!! I was so heartbroken for omega out in the rain because of how it triggered her unravelling into a broken down numb shell of her former self - bestie I had tears streaming down my face reading the entirety of the locked out in the rain and the bathtub scenes! She’s had several months, almost a year, of being treated like absolute dirt by everyone around her when all she’s been is either staying out of their way or polite and kind yet everyone bullies and beats her down - no wonder this extremely callous stunt from Bucky pushed her over the edge - there’s only so much she can bear before it all gets too much to continue to take day in day out

In the bathtub, it felt like Steve was hesitant to stay with omega at first but decided to remain with her because he had this fear she could drown in the tub? Like when she let herself sink a little further down he immediately grabbed her back up and held her up so tightly

Oh learning more about omega’s backstory oh my god my heart aches for her 😢 The way you conveyed her story and emotions was so vivid, raw and striking, it was truly amazing the way you wrote it. Her constantly hearing that no one cares and that everyone will leave her, oh god it’s so heartbreaking that she’s started to believe it herself 😢 And the fact that she’s basically been alone her whole life and carries the scars from the memories and guilt brought on by her mother for her father leaving - she doesn’t deserve this pain 😭 When she’s been nothing but kind and considerate to everyone her whole life yet it’s only resulted in them hurting her, it’s no wonder she wonders if she’s doing something wrong but oh I wish she can see someday that she’s not the problem at all … it’s everyone else in her life who are just bad people 😭

Her unravelling giving her the strength to tell Steve exactly what she’s thinking and not letting herself brush aside her feelings to appease him and not let him sweet talk his way out of it was so powerful!!! I loved that she spoke her mind with no fear of what he would say or do - she told him straight up all the wrong he’s done, the damage and scars he’s left on her and I could tell that it hit him square in the gut and heart because he realised then the huge impact his words and actions have had on her, that he’s the reason why she mistakenly believes she’s the problem and why she’s a husk of her former self

His reaction was so different to what I thought it be - He didn’t immediately stop her hitting him and didn’t warn her to watch the way she’s speaking to her alpha or threaten to go to another omega who knows her place. It just shows he realises she’s going through so much more than he had any clue about and that she’s been pushed too far and that he’s a huge reason for the misery she’s going through. It was also so unexpected and another powerful moment where he just broke … broke from seeing the pain she’s been bearing, broke from realising that it’s his fault, and broke down his barriers to finally let himself hold her close to him, reassure her it’s everyone else that’s the problem and not her, and telling her she means more to him than she thinks.

I went through so many tissues wiping away my tears in this scene 😭🤧 And that’s just the first half - you bless us with even more, we are not worthy of your gift 😭🫶

Sam apologising wow whatta twist, but it was so nice to see!! I really needed something not bad to happen to omega and it was a nice touch that he said sorry and I’m glad he saw how insanely fucked up it was of Bucky 😔

Ah so Steve accusing her of cheating - well he’s still an alpha after all, okay he’s making some progress but we can’t fairly expect him to do a 180 because we know he has his alpha instincts and those will always be with him and shine through. We can only hope he lets his softer more sincere side out every so often

But the yellow roses 🥺 Omg he got them for her and was going to try to make some amends … before he went psycho alpha, but you know what, I appreciate his initial intention of trying to do something nice for her 🥺

Oh wow we got treated to see Steve actually caring and looking after her 🥺 Him worried about her not eating and drinking and then putting in the effort to fix up Steve Junior because he knows the stuffie meant a lot to her 🥺 The resurrection of Steve Junior, I’m sobbing happy tears oh my god thank you thank you thank you so much bestie for giving us Steve Junior back 😭😭😭🧸 !!!Joyous occasion 😭🤧🫶!!! Ah yes Steve gave Steve Junior to omega with just as much grace and gentleness as he did the first time I see 😌 No but omega has her one source of reliable comfort and company with her again 🥹🥹🥹

The second bathroom scene, I see Steve is aching to get things back to the way they were - the no distance, no silence. He’s tried to fix things with some nice gestures like the roses and Steve Junior and bringing her food and something to drink - but I don’t think anything can be truly fully fixed without him apologising to her. He told her in the bathtub scene that he’d never leave her and never hurt her again - but she couldn’t trust or believe him because he’s always made her feel like she’s dispensable for any other omega. He’s never made her feel protected or safe - and that’s when I realised she needs to hear that he’s genuinely sorry for everything he’s done because that’s when she knows he truly means what he says and that he’s not just saying it to manipulate her into doing what he wants

I felt like his apology in the balcony scene changed things a lot. She needed to know that she’s not just another omega - he’s been with other omegas, dated them, fucked them, cheated, manipulated, then left and moved on to another omega. Omega knows this and I felt like she needed to hear him say sorry for what he’s done because only then it made her trust and believe him when he said he feels differently about her than he did with anyone else he’s been with 🥺

Oh his drawing book 🥹 Especially the one of omega and Steve Junior 🥹 I can’t handle it, it’s too sweet the way he spends so much effort admiring her and drawing her so meticulously!! And Steve Junior and omega’s communication, him urging her to go to his dad’s football game to hand him his lucky jersey - too cute 🥹

The football game scene - He LOVES her!!! He promises to take care of her!!! He wants to marry her!!! The changing room scene we saw Steve and omega back to their usual selves - Steve all smug and babying her, omega all shy and giving into Steve … but we must note she did not say I love you back to him and didn’t say “yes” but rather “okay” to his proposal. I want to believe Steve is genuine in everything he said to her that night with the most wholesome of intentions for their future because of his sincere apology and the remorse he previously showed … yet omega has shades of hesitancy and it feels like she wants to believe rather than actually believes things will turn out the way we want them too. We’re still in for an interesting enthralling ride between these two and their dynamic!!!

The smut scene!!! His hands, so big and warm, trail softly down your figure – the gentlest he’s ever been. Fingers splayed out and stroking carefully over your stomach, he lifts your hoodie up and presses his face against your soft, exposed skin. “You’re so tiny,” he breathes, almost in wonder. “So little… How’re you gonna carry my baby inside you when you’re so little?”. The delicious size kink hsjskalqkwjsna it made me feral, oh my goodness the sheer carnal drive they had for each other hswkaisjaa that was gorgeously filthy, so frickin amazing oh my gaawwwdd 🤤

Peter!!! He’s been MIA for the past like 2 months when omega really needed someone she could depend on to genuinely care and be stable towards her, but just when things look like they’re heading in the right direction and Steve’s acknowledged his mistreatment and promises to treat her better - this Peter decides to show up and just take her … he delusion and must be stopped - Steve come get your girl 😫 Also I hope Bucky’s drowned in his own pile of tears - the lil bitch, hmph 😤

That cliffhanger tho bestie, I AM HOOKED AND SHOOK AAAHHHH

Okay my heart is racing, I need an oxygen mask, and I don’t even have asthma but I feel like I need an inhaler - I am just sooooo in awe of your writing and all the things that happened in this chapter, HOLY CHEESE STICKS!!!

Bestie I applaud you and throw bouquets of the prettiest flowers at you for how beautifully you wrote this. You had such an exquisite hard-hitting depiction of omega and Steve’s emotions and mindsets - this was a stunning chapter!!!

Thank you so much for the feast that is POYT 4 💐🥰

- 💙

Oh my gosh bestie thank you so much! I don’t think I’m better than reputable authors but you’re so fucking amazing for saying that and just ugh!! Omg!! Thank you!

TW for mentions of self harm under the cut!

Okay so yes, Bucky was so cruel!!! These toxic alphas really know how to lash out when they don’t get what they want, huh??? WHO RAISED THEM. 😭😭

Also yes, in the bathtub scene, Steve was hesitant to leave omega bc he thought she would hurt herself😩 I think that was the beginning of him realising that his and his friends’ callous words and actions actually have had a huge impact on her. He realises she’s been pushed too far💔 and learning about her backstory also made him realise this. In a way, this chapter was very centred around Steve and his emotions and emotional growth 😌😌 which is why it was so hard for me to write bc I don’t want to reveal what he’s thinking through his POV, but rather through his actions (bc in the bathtub scene he barely speaks at all, but he still has quite a few realisations). Which is why, as you said, he doesn’t react when she hits him. He knows it’s his fault and he’s confused on how to deal with that.

Sam apologising hehe, I debated taking that scene out so many times, bc I didn’t know if it was too OOC for Sam. And, Steve accusing her of cheating was meant to be like, him projecting… i read a few reviews where people pointed that out and YES that’s what it was meant to be! It’s his own shame and guilt for cheating on her, and he’s grasping at straws and trying to accuse her bc he feels helpless in a way. (Idk if that makes sense).

YES STEVE JUNIOR RETURNED! Y’all loved him so much, I just had to do it. He’s a major character at this point😌 and yes, the second bathroom scene — I love that you pointed out that nothing can truly be fixed until he apologises… and it took about 12k words to get Steve to apologise… but he did! And yes as you said, his apology changed their relationship dynamic! It shows that he sees her as more than just an object, therefore she can start seeing herself as more too. (Bittersweet, bc her self worth shouldn’t be based on whether he apologises or not but… she’s so damaged that it is💔)

Oh bestie I love how you notice the little things! Like her silent convo with Steve Junior about whether she should go to Steve or not! AND ALSO THE YELLOW FLOWERS! You’re the only person who has mentioned those! He was trying! 😭😭😭😭😭😭

Also the proposal, yes she did indeed say “okay” and yes i indeed wanted to show that she’s hesitant! Not bc she doesn’t care about him or want to marry him, but bc she still doesn’t fully trust him. It takes time to build trust, it doesn’t happen overnight even if he did apologise! But she totally does wanna marry him and be with him—it’s just the trust!! And hmmm, she didn’t say I love you back… I wonder if she ever will?? 🤔🤔👀

ALSO YES PETER MUST BE STOPPED AIDNSKJSIA WHERE WAS HE FOR TWO MONTHS PLS YOURE RIGHT. you know I debated removing him from the story altogether bahahahaha but oh well

Anyways BESTIE your comments leave me speechless!!! I just love how long this was, how long it must’ve taken you to write!!! Thank you for interacting with my fic so much!!! You inspire me and any writer would be so lucky to have you as a reader!! This is why we do it😌😌😌💕💕💕

#anon #poyt ask #poyt 4 ask #💙 anon

[jxngh]

Home full of guests, you and JK met each other somewhere between kitchen and bathroom, long and dark hallway, he is aroused, you start to suck his dick very hard and intense. His back on the wall, your knees on the floor ... he is finishing inside your mouth and Jimin comes in ...

ty for requesting! here's your request, enjoy✨

and i ooops-

tae's friends were giving him a secret birthday party. you and jungkook were currently at home, waiting for you to finish your makeup. you weren't slow at it or something but the man behind you were being mischievous, grabbing your ass, leaving wet kisses to your neck and talking with his satoori. knowing it's effect on you.

"sweetie, why don't we stay at home a little,huh?" he said holding your waist and pulling you closer to his body. "we'll be quick."

it made you aroused and him a little hard as you can feel it on your ass. but no, you couldn't be late, you promised to help jimin checking everything.

"i'm sorry koo, we can't. you know that i promised jimin to help." he got a little sulky and avoided you a little till he drove you both to the party house.

it made you feel bad and before you two got out of the car you grabbed the neck of his shirt and pulled it to yourself and you kissed him rough, painting his lips with your red lipstick. you had to reapply your lipstick that's how rough you two were.

when you two got into the house you left him with his close friends and went to help jimin. during helping him with everything you felt his gaze on you and whenever you looked back at him he just kept looking at you with hazy eyes, making you forget what you're busy with.

after taehyung came in and you did the celebration part he went to everybody's tables to chat. that was when you felt his breath on your neck.

"meet me in the hallway babygirl." he said before leaving you in the table with the others. jimin saw the way you gulp after his voice, smirked before fake coughing. and you found an excuse to go after your boyfriend.

you got into the long dark hallway, trying to find him in the dim light. there were a silhouette near to the bathroom door, his back was on the wall and arms crossed.

you moved closer and he started to talk. "nobody's here babygirl, care to fix the problem you caused?" he said while he was eyeing you head to toe.

you smiled and gave him a quick kiss before kneeling down slowly. could you be caught? yes. will it gonna stop you? no. he was standing like a rockstar and you couldn't think of something else but pleasing him.

you unbuckled his pants and reached to his boxers . you held the waistband of it with your teeth and pulled it down while watching his reaction.

"damn baby, you're so hot." he said making you feel flutters in your heart.

you gave him kitten licks while you look at him in the most innocent way, making him curse breathily. he was getting harder by the view of you on your knees, tongue teasingly licking him.

after getting the reaction you wanted, you got his tip in your mouth and started to suck it, slowly moving your head forward.

"shit nghh baby, you're so wet and warm." he said, unable to hold himself back from pushing himself to your mouth. you took most of his length into your mouth and started to suck him harder, making sinful sounds. his low moans were mixing your sounds and there were some music coming from far.

as you took himself fully he held the back of your head and started to move. you were under his control while he pushed all of his cock into your mouth. he watched you getting destroyed by him.

"ahh babygirl mmmh y-yeah suck me just like that." he said and started twitching.

"will you be a good girl let me ruin your mouth baby? huh?" he husked while softening his touch on your hair. you pulled yourself out and said "do it kook. ruin me."

after hearing your words he came into your mouth while his head at back, mouth opened and leaving broken moans while you get all of his cum into your mouth, slowly swallowing.

"holy sh- " jimin left out then his voice tone changed. "i'm heartbroken, why didn't you tell me that there's another party here?"

you were finished and got up, showing your tongue to your boyfriend before whispering "do you mind if i play with him a little?" he smirked slightly and whispered back. "go on babygirl."

you went closer to jimin, moving your index finger from his chest to down. "next time we will handsome." you whispered before giving a small intense kiss to him, leaving him dumbfounded.

.·´ you can ask me anything or send requests in here (my messages are open for talking too!) ✨

#jungkook smut #jk smut #jk x you #jk x y/n #jk x reader #jungkook imagine #bts smut #jungkook fic #bts drabble #jeon jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook thirst #bts one shot #thirstlist #replies #killyourprayersforloveandpeace #park jimin #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jikook x reader

[anxiouslyfred]

Selling a Soulmate

Completely Inspired by this post from @writing-prompt-s and @chaos-by-all-means

Pattons sells Virgil’s soul to a demon, that demon and their soulmate are extremely angry when they don’t find Patton while following the soul connection. Virgil just got 2 new demonic soulmates of Deceit and Remus

/\/\/\/\/\

Patton thought it was all for the best, after all Virgil constantly made jokes about wanting to die, or just going to hell for more continuous torture as if that’s all he had in life. They’d been soulmates for years and he still couldn’t get Virgil to stop.

So he was selling a soul to a demon, for the chance to look after his family and friends, to actually be the perfect dad friend to them all and make them feel better, face the struggles of the world down and keep standing too. If that meant Virgil actually would be destined for hell now, well those jokes always did seem to serious to Patton.

Deceit and Remus had always known that soulmates had some ownership over each others souls, and could in fact bargain each others souls when making deals. No demon had ever heard of that actually happening.

Then they followed the soul link that came from Deceit’s deal with the human Patton to find someone neither had seen ever before.

“You’re definitely Patton.” Deceit was glaring between the strand of connection and the man, curled on his bed in a hoodie and clutching a letter.

“Apparently so, given his letter is only saying that all those jokes I make about going to hell can come true as I wished. Who the fuck actually wishes something like that and what the hell does he mean? If it’s a break up letter then that’s one hell of away to tell your fucking soulmate they’re dumped.” The man barely even looks up, tears brimming even as he glares at the page.

“Soulmates? I mean I do some twisted things with the souls I get from deals but that’s dark.” Remus comments quietly, knowing his pairing with Deceit is unusual since most demons ignore any compulsions to their soulmates and that he technically shouldn’t even be there.

Deceit just moves closer to the bed. “What’s your name, Patton’s soulmate?”

“If he didn’t tell you when he invited you in that’s even more stupid. I’m Virgil but whatever.” Virgil does glance up at the two people, barely taking any of their appearance in before turning to grab a robot plush toy. “Logan always used to warn that Patton only understood his brand of puns and would take my dark jokes too seriously after a while. Who are you?”

Deceit turns to share a heavy look with Remus, deciding if the words they want to say will be echoed but Remus is already moving to take the letter from Virgil’s hands.

“We’re your new soulmates, Remus and Deceit. Not sure what nonsense Patton’s been writing but it’s this weird rare quirk thing that can happen.” The explanation makes no sense, a lot of the things Remus starts without thinking through don’t really, but at least this time he’s on the same page as Deceit.

“In a manner of speaking at least, we are indeed your new soulmates. I was hoping to be able to take you out this evening, but if you need time to process what ever Patton wrote to you we understand.” Deceit’s words are smooth, offering but not demanding and they’re only hoping the rage that’s going through them isn’t showing in their eyes.

Virgil had looked to Deceit as Remus moved and while part of him wanted to believe them and relax, he could see fury waiting to burst out of Remus, especially as he read the letter, and there were small echoes of anger in the one called Deceit too. “You wouldn’t be angry if some weird quirk had given you a new soulmate. Why should I trust you when I can still only feel the connection to Patton?”

The mention of his anger is enough to set Remus off, unleashing a hundred attacks to the walls, windows and door to the room, form shifting as his fury is too much to remain consistently human now it’s being released. Deceit had made to intervene then, but all they could do was stay on the bed and keep Virgil there too.

Virgil is shying away from them both at the change, recognising Remus as so many creatures he’d read conspiracies about over the years, and wishing he’d never spoken. He doesn’t feel at threat, but he feels terrified.

Four hours ago he had woken up to Patton’s clothes emptied from the cupboards and a letter that left him feeling like the world was ending, like the anxiety Patton had insisted countless times wouldn’t change his love had driven his soulmate away finally. He’d felt confused and heartbroken.

Half an hour ago Patton had called him, laughing and making puns all around wishes coming true. Virgil hadn’t understood why or how someone could call his self-deprecating jokes wishes anymore then than he had while reading the letter, but knew Logan had said something about it before. The mention that Virgil should expect a guest had only confused him more.

Now there were two beings, basically strangers, trying to claim they were his new soulmates and destroying the room. Nothing felt safe and everything seemed likely to kill him or suck out his soul and leave his body just a husk. He wanted to fight and scream but couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could barely think as one stranger tried to shield him on the bed while the other raged.

A whimper breaking through Virgil’s lips finally calmed the storm. Remus flipping on a dime, from raging to comforting, but keeping his distance now. “Darling, if you’ll have us, we will be your new soulmates, far better than Patton ever was.”

“But you’re demons.” Virgil can only assume both of them are demons, despite Deceit still looking completely human. Why else would they be talking for each other?

Deceit just nods, wanting to twist words but knowing that blunt honesty would help them more in this moment. “And I had your soul sold to me. Technically, if I wanted I could easily make it truth when Remus says you’re now our soulmate, and given that I cannot believe even the most selfish person would do what Patton has done, I’m sorely tempted to.”

“That’s what he meant by my jokes about going to hell being wishes that come true?” More tears and pain hit Virgil then as he realises that not only had Patton broken up with him, he’d literally sold him, and whatever was brought couldn’t be equal to what Virgil had thought they had.

The creature, whatever he was now was leaning over to Virgil, a limb he didn’t want to identify wiping the tears away before they fell. “Let us court you Sweet thing. We’ll be your soulmates now.”

Virgil’s life and his room were suddenly in shambles where the day before he’d thought things could be improving. He’d been abandoned and learnt that abandonment included getting sold. He’d already spent the day crying but here were two beings, two demons who while they definitely had violent reactions showed no chance of them being directed at him. 

Nothing seemed real and everything seemed doomed and Virgil could almost hear Logan telling him not to make life changing decisions when emotionally compromised but his friend wasn’t there then. His friend had been unable to comfort him when Virgil had called up to ask for help after first reading the letter.

Looking at Deceit,still kneeling on the bed and looking at Remus, slowly regaining a more humanoid form, Virgil nodded. “Okay, yes, if - if that’s - if you actually mean it when you say you want me as a soulmate despite being such a fuck up even Patton couldn’t stay with me, you can do that, just let me keep Logan, let me keep whatever friends won’t expect me to be around someone who sold me.”

“Come here, Raindrop. I’ll make you ours now.” Deceit just nods, gathering Virgil into their arms while bringing their powers to the surface. Changing the binds of soulmates could be difficult, but Virgil’s was already weakened, first by Patton using it to sell a soul that wasn’t his and now by Virgil’s own honest agreement. Their eyes beaming golden yellow and the scales shining through their form were all the outward signs that anything changed, but Virgil gasping as the connection changed from one of a brought soul to a soulmate was warming.

Deceit has accepted a deal for ‘a soul’ precisely once, and he got a new soulmate from it. Ever since then Remus and they have been precise in wording every deal for the persons specific soul. If someone wants to sell their soulmate then they’ll have to find a different demon.

#unsympathetic patton #toxic moxiety #anxceitmus #virgil sanders #remus sanders #deceit sanders #dukeceit #demon remus #demon deceit #soulmate au #demonic deals au

[monomonomagines]

could you write dr2 boys reacting to learning their s/o is part of the neo world based off of a dead classmate like chiaki after being able to graduate the simulation the intended way or through surviving the killing game ?

Oh my goodness anon I love you for requesting this but I am equally angry that I never even contemplated something like this. I'm going to go with the boys graduating from the simulation the correct way for this ask and used bullet points but if you want me to do it the other way as well feel free to tell me. I won't go on much longer I just had to get it out that this is a great idea. An angsty idea no less but still amazing.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it. If you all couldn't tell already I live for angst. Anyways here's the boy's reactions.

Teruteru

Teruteru had been so glad that you had accepted him for who he really was.

You didn't mind his accent or quirks and loved him for him.

That's why he was elated to graduate from the simulation you were in together after the class had collected all the hope fragments.

It meant that you and him would be able to be together for real. Just him and you with nothing else between you.

As soon as he woke up from the simulation and got to actually explore the real island his immediate goal was to find you but he just seemed to be missing you.

He thought that he'd find you soon enough when Hajime approached him and put a hand on his shoulder telling him about your own demise before the simulation.

He didn't want to be the one to break the guy's heart but no one else would be better at telling him the cold hard truth.

You didn't exist anymore. You slipped through Teruteru's fingers long before they were placed into the Neo World program.

As soon as the words left Hajime's lips it was evident that they weighed on Teruteru.

His smiling face had taken a more solemn expression. He needed to be alone so that he could mourn you. He'd end up bawling like a baby and crying out for you until he'd pass out some nights until he'd force himself to get out of this funk.

Neither you nor his mama would want to see him like this. He needed to honor your memories, not just mope around.

He'd make all your favorite dishes, he'd walk along the beach like you two said you would in the Neo World, and he'd cherish you. Even the you that wasn't real because it was still you that made him feel whole not that simulation in the end.

Imposter/BBB

The imposter never expected to end up getting close to you but with your kindness and tact, it wasn't unforeseen.

You weren't unworthy of his love or anything and you seemed to genuinely enjoy his company like no other person.

You wanted to know his dreams, his hopes, his inspirations, and most of all to get to know him and his heart.

Unlike Teruteru he wouldn't jump up at immediately graduating until after he'd turn to look at you and have you both promise that you'd find each other when you were out of the Neo World.

The only issue is you couldn't promise. The simulation's version of you did just that but you were long gone far before that promise was made.

That was why he couldn't find you.

Unlike Teruteru when everyone else was somehow all there but you, he'd quickly put the pieces together and rush to excuse himself.

He never wanted to get attached and here he was left heartbroken over a simulation.

He'd mourn without showing many expressions around the others. He just wanted to be alone to think, to reminisce as he'd gaze at that same ocean you two would in the Neo World.

Normally then you'd be holding hands but now his were empty as he was alone.

Nagito

Nagito like Teruteru is the type to rush into things.

They both tend to take drastic actions in order to get the things they want most in life so he wouldn't bat an eye at graduating from the Neo World with you.

Only he wouldn't be able to.

The same person that had gotten to know and accept the real Komaeda didn't exist anymore.

They perished long before the Neo World Program began and it fits almost too well with his luck for the person he loved to never have been real.

Like the Imposter, Nagito would wan to be alone for the most part to mourn you, getting snippy and irritable with anyone that dared to interrupt him.

He didn't want anything but you and you were dead. He'd try to laugh but would just end up crying as he remembered each moment he shared with the illusion of you.

He missed you more than anything.

Fuyuhiko

Fuyuhiko only had you and Peko. That was all he needed, he thought.

You two were closer than anything and he couldn't be happier. You never underestimated him. You saw all his capability and appreciated him for who he really was.

That's why he decided he did want to graduate with everyone. He wanted to be with you and Peko. With all three of you together he felt invincible.

However, that invincibility duration was not long. It soon fizzled out as he came to the real island he and his friends were on.

He thought he'd be able to find you but from the look on Peko's face when he asked he knew something was wrong.

Looking as distraught as him she had to tell him why their search for you was unsuccessful. How it was because you weren't real then.

You had been gone for years and you weren't coming back. Not now, not ever.

Fuyuhiko would immediately fly into a fit of rage, taking things out on inanimate objects and lashing out at others but whenever it was just him he'd cry his eyes out.

He missed everything about you. He was sorry he sometimes bitched at you or that he acted ungrateful at times he was sorry so why couldn't you be here with him?

He's filled with far more regrets than most of this cast at the loss of you.

Kazuichi

Like Nagito, Kazuichi's always been a pretty obsessive guy but he'd decide in an instant that he'd want to graduate from this simulation.

He knew you'd end up with him so what was there to worry about?

Apparently, a lot more than he knew because even after running around the whole island a few times, there was no sign of you.

He'd have just kept running on and on simply thinking he missed you if not for Hajime stopping him.

Like with Teruteru, it was better if Hajime broke the news to him since they were so close.

But as soon as he hears what Hajime has to say he goes into denial immediately.

He refuses to listen to reason still looking for you for days on end until the reality hits him like a slap to the face.

You really were dead! You were dead and there was nothing he could do to bring you back.

He'd end up isolating himself like Fuyuhiko and being quite irritable but when he's alone he surprisingly wouldn't cry.

Instead, he'd talk to the sky as if you were there with him right then and there.

Hajime

Once Hajime would leave the Neo World Program to be with his friends he'd be the quickest to piece together why you aren't with them.

Once he's in the real world he is basically Izuru reformed after all.

However, he's able to feel more than Izuru could. He'd know that you were a mere simulation, that you died long before this all began but he'd struggle with accepting it still.

He wanted so badly to see you running up to him to embrace him like you did so many times within the simulation but it was hopeless.

He knew it was true but he would want some time alone to think.

He didn't need to bawl his eyes out but he'd definitely cry those first few nights without you.

It's just that after he'd come to the same conclusion that Teruteru would at a faster speed.

He'd keep your memory in his heart for as long as he was around.

It didn't matter if he was just sitting on the shore watching the sunset or if he was drawing with his fingers in the sand alone because your memory was there with him.

You were still there by his side doing your own thing as he did his. Your memory was real enough for him to still cherish your time together.

Nekomaru

Nekomaru loved your fun-loving nature from the start of your escapades in the Neo World Program and was more than excited to continue to enjoy life to the max with you.

He was definitely would graduate without a second thought, immediately assuming you'd be there when he'd wake up.

But when you didn't he just assumed you were taking your sweet time.

Hahaha, S/o's so funny waiting to graduate.

He'd keep positive thoughts the whole time that you weren't there, arguing with anyone who said otherwise when deep down he realized.

You were like Chiaki, you didn't exist anymore.

You died before he went into the Neo World Program and there was no bringing you with him when left.

He'd have a lot of anger like Kazuichi or Fuyuhiko but he'd put it all into his fights with Akane or when he was training anyone.

He'd try to stay positive for you but some nights he'd find himself looking at the sea and thinking about how things could've been different if you could just be standing next to him right now.

He felt so empty.

Gundham

For someone to infiltrate the Dark Overlord's defenses was an anomaly at best.

He didn't allow others to pierce his walls but somehow your might had completely obliterated them.

That's why you were dating.

You understood Gundham and his eccentricities and even when you didn't you accepted him.

You did more, you loved him. You loved him and his dark devas, him and his poison blood, you just loved him as he was and he couldn't ask for more.

He decided to graduate with everyone rather hastily at the prospect of getting to see you for real but reality quickly caved in on him.

When everyone was there but you, he'd immediately assume the worst but would try to stand tall. Simply asking Hajime as to where you were.

But when Hajime shook his head and put his hand on his shoulder he instantly knew.

He'd barely comprehend those words but at the same time, they'd stick to the inside of his skull.

S/o died long before the Neo World Program started.

He just wouldn't be able to do more than turn into a mere husk of a man.

He wouldn't speak to anyone, not even Sonia. He'd just stand by the shore in solitude, wondering what you'd tell him to do now.

#danganronpa #danganronpa imagines #dr2 #danganronpa goodbye despair #danganronpa x reader #x reader #imagine #teruteru hanamura #ultimate imposter #byakuya twogami #nagito komeada #fuyuhiko kuzuryuu #kazuichi soda #kazuichi souda #hajime hinata #nekomaru nidai #gundham tanaka #ask #mod toko

[fly-sky-high-bug-games]

Trapper Mugo

Species: moth

Design based on (kind of): Brindled green moth

Birthed at Highgrove but moved to Hallownest when fairly young, Mugo started taking interest in critters that lived there. Some time as a teen, he met the Hunter and the two talked about the journal. Mugo gave the hunters journal a try but quickly realized he has no thrill in killing the critters he encounters. Instead, he wanted to study them eventually started making traps and such to capture them instead, finding the cunning of the hunt to be more interesting than killing. Likewise, he liked exploring the flora and fauna of Hallownest. It use to be a lot more exciting before it all got infected...

As a young adult, Mugo found himself at the Colosseum of Fools during one of his travels. There, he met his future boss, Boss, a mechanic that works on the stage setup during the battles. She recognized his skills and understanding of critters so she hired him to capture and bring them for the coli fights She also build and provided mechanics for the traps needed. It was a learning experience but Mugo eventually grew to enjoy his job.

During one of the busy days at the Colosseum, he learned it was visited by the group of nobles called Magnolia family who stayed at the City of Tears at the time. He was curious about them as they come from the same kingdom where he use to live but has barely any memories of. Alyssum, a butterfly from the family, noticed him and the two started chatting when other nobles weren’t around. The two were completely different worlds so they just clicked in the conversations. Mugo was head over heals in love with Alyssum and she warmed up to him as well during the Magnolia family’s long stay at the city.

The two dated, meeting mostly at night and deep within the city on their own, just being in love. As the time went by, Alyssum started to try convince Mugo to come with her, become part of the Magnolia rule and family and live as a noble by her side at Highgrove. However, over time of the two dating, Mugo learned the family was rotten business and trouble so he kept refusing her offer, countering it with his that she should stay with him instead. Alyssum also refused, losing her patience, demanding for him to join her side, showing that she had no intentions in losing her status in a ruling family of another kingdom, claiming that her wishes should be final. This hurt Mugo but made it clear they will stick to their own viewpoints that gave more strains on their relationship that slowly started to fall apart.

Argument after the other, the two broke up on bad terms in a fight, Alyssum scaring his face with her magic as he tried to escape from her possessive act. Heartbroken and injured, Mugo retreated to lake of Unn for some time to be alone. They haven’t heard from one another in quite some time after that until Alyssum sent him a letter to meet her at the Crossroads as one last attempt of “mending” the relationship. Mugo never showed up. As things became hectic within Hallownest, Alyssum eventually left and Mugo hasn’t seen her since and many years passed...

Mugo fully focused on his hunting business, changing tactics, trapping and alike as things within the kingdom changed as well, filling his journal and notes with useful info about every beast and critter, their tricks, weaknesses and strengths and how to deal with them. He worked alone and did everything as a lone wolf unless the task requested a group work.

After meeting Rham and Yonna on the way back to Colosseum one day, he learned he missed companionship and friends, growing rather close to both, feeling welcome and happy for the first time in a long while.

---

Characteristics:

+: Adaptable, intuitive, strong willed, helpful -: Withdrawn, vengeful, clings to the past, somewhat harsh n: cunning, fair, righteous 

Inventory:

Spendable/Consumable: 

Sweet root: A root equivalent of a sweet snack or an energy drink, depending on how much you eat it. It’s not very favorable but it’s VERY juicy and sweet! It’s like sugared water. Mugo LOVES these. Often replaces them for actual food which isn’t healthy.

Lifeblood gel: Made out of herbal roots, hot spring water and lifeblood seeds. It’s for external use ONLY and heals wounds faster~ Can’t mend any internal injuries though. Too much application might worsen the healing, especially if wounds aren’t properly cleaned first.

Spare Lifeblood seeds (for now): Because who doesn’t want to have the marks of the heretics around, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Known to drive regular bugs a little… ditsy or delusional if eaten raw. Good for internal injuries but one won’t be able to get back to their feet easy for few hours.

Sleeping Pollen: Collected from a specific plant, causes drowsiness or sleep when eaten or inhaled. Too much of it can knock out a person for hours.

Numbroot: Extremely bitter but nothing subdues pain like few bites from it. Internal use only. Too many bites lead to full numbness for couple of hours. Some factions of other kingdoms use the extracted liquid from it for assassinations. Mugo takes bites of it to kill off his back pains…

Stinger ivy extract: A potion of a sort, made by the shamans. He isn’t sure what’s mixed in them but it helps recover from electric shocks and stings. Has one spare bottle just in case, as he avoid any charged lumaflies if he can. Didn’t seem to use it in recent shocking events but decided to walk it off instead…

Fog mushroom: A specific type of fungi that lets out a lot of smoke when placed near fire. It’s like a fungi fog machine if thrown in fire, easily covering a lot of space in thick, funky smelling fog. Mugo uses it for hunting belflies who rely on the sight. (he can see their glow but they can’t see him coming for them with the traps~)

Ember seeds: Plant seeds that pop and crack loudly when near heat or in fire. Good for scaring off large critters away or in specific directions (like where traps are set~)

Odor bomb: Kept in the palm sized round chestnut like shell, it’s a mix of collected, specific droppings that have a strong scent. To some critters, it’s a sign to get out of there and to some, it’s a wonderful bait to come close to…

Hive nectar: EXTREMELY RARE, a gift from someone, owns just a small pill size with him. It speeds up recovery and healing of any sort, even from the illnesses but only for less than a day which is often enough to pull someone out of a critical state. Carries it and keeps it with him at all times for most alert emergency.

Items:

Traps, nets and gadgets (only during hunting): Depending on the errand at the time, the types and sizes of them vary and he carries only essential ones for the job.

Two large nails the same size and look: The nails are long with short handles. Uses to both fend himself and to agitate critters when necessary or activate traps from the distance. Uses one for shield and other for striking but isn’t a very good fighter, only super fast on reactions and saving his husk.

Emblem of White Magnolia: a necklace with a pedant that’s always around his neck, gifted by Alyssum. Unlike the original Magnolia family symbol that has pink hues over the flower petals, the white one represents Alyssum’s faction of the family. Always keeps it around his neck, hidden by Mugo’s thick mane. 

Forsaken Dagger: Carries Taka’s ashen essence, named purely out of troublesome events it caused to the group. Have yet to be examined. After paying Sly 2000 Geo for it, having it be stolen minutes after, taken to the dream realm to cause problems to Taka and then taken back only to end up in Mugo’s hands again, he’s not too trilled to have it but has to.

#hollow knight #oc #muse: Mugo #muse list #damn aaa still hid the details of his past but hngh #have some of his background at least~ #note that the upper pics are older cept for the color one #so his mane is pretty crazy drawn #it's still crazy now but it's brushed in story at least #more fluffy

[ultrakeystotheheartblog]

Not So Alone (Part 2) (Teen Titans x Reader)

Part 2 of 2

Request: Requested by multiple people.

“Uhm, your teen titans imagine was?? so great?? I would totally love a sequel omg (only if u want obv)”

“Omg please I just read the fic and want a sequel too so badddd you don’t have to if you don’t want to but I’d be super hype to see it and read and scream because the first parts great” - @laneygthememequeen

A/N: I’m back! I’m not dead! And I am definitely going to  write an update some time soon to explain everything that’s happened, but for right now I’m just gonna go ahead and say thank you again for all the positive comments and support that the first part received. I wasn’t expecting so many people to enjoy it, so I was over the moon at the response. With that said, I hope you all enjoy this part too ♥♥♥ 

(PS: This was the imagine that got the most votes, so the final part for my Jason Todd fic will be coming next! And, uh, It’s already turning out like a novel guys, prepare yourselves).

Warning: Swearing. Little bit of angst, but mostly a whole lot of fluff.

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

You can’t help but feel that something is not quite right today.

Things are quiet.

Too quiet.

There’s no bouncing music or flashing video games, no arguing, no laughing, no daily echoes of training or disastrous calamities unfolding in the kitchen. No doting, friendly teammates to regale you with their presence (as what’s been the norm for the past few weeks while you’ve begrudgingly, slowly, began to heal from your injuries). No, the Tower is practically, for lack of a better or less ironic term, dead. And has been for most of the day—a husk of boredom and loneliness and one too many pieces of cold, leftover pizza. 

Not to mention that looming cloud that’s followed over your head, a suspicious kind of quiet that’s been pressing in all around you like a swarm of invisible hands, seeping into the very foundation of the room. It’s been keeping you teetering on the edge of a pinpoint for literal hours—your fight or flight response practically grinding its teeth in preparation for an inevitable...something. And all the while you sink further into the entertainment room’s monstrous, curved couch and try to focus on ‘relaxing’.

Ha.

You’d be more relaxed if you knew where everyone disappeared to.

But alas, you do not—no matter how much the urge to snoop is (and you so want to snoop), because that’s not what friends do. At least, you think it’s not. You have to admit, it’s been a long time since you’ve considered anyone a friend, but you’re trying. Trying to let go of the past. Trying to be vulnerable. To be good. To be open. And you very much find yourself liking all the ensuing, chaotic changes in your life recently. But you’re rusty and unsure, and always, always, waiting for some other shoe to drop.

You don’t want it to.

You really don’t want it to.

But sometimes you wonder if it would give you some sort of relief from all the waiting—if that metaphorical shoe just got it over with already and put its ugly, metaphorical foot down. So you could breathe without all this pinchy, backwards kind of guilt you’ve been storing up inside for years, waiting to finally punch out into the world like a nest of angry wasps. Like you should feel bad for wanting to be a part of something....something more. 

You’ve always hated just waiting for something to happen. But here you are now; alone, completely over-thinking the meaning of life, and left to stew in a concoction of sulky feelings that leaves you nauseous in a way you’ve worked so hard to forget.

So.

With your sore legs propped up onto the coffee table for comfort, you just continue to glare at the blank TV screen and watch your faded reflection in the shine of the glass, biting bitterly into the last of the pizza crust from the plate balanced in your lap.

ZuZu (as declared by Star the morning you’d first woken up—words tripping in a rush of excitement and a stream of breathless chatter about some sort of inspiration from an earth movie—while she gently sits the little creature into your lap with a ceremonious flourish of her arms) flops onto their belly to find a more comfortable position beside you. 

Their front legs tuck underneath their bulk, long, spiked tail curling around their body in looping circles, before they come to rest their head on your hip, staring intensely at the leftover crust between your fingers.

They’re about the size of a small dog, heavy and wide, with the hybrid body structure of some sort of lizard and a...well, a bear. Their face is coated in silky auburn fur, snout ridged and twitchy, large heavy-lidded, expressive pink eyes set deep in their sockets. The majority of their torso and back legs are scaled and shiny, while three stripes of that autumn colored fur zigzag down their back, their front legs thick and capped with massive fuzzy paws and hooked dark claws. But the most distinctive features are the large, pleated creases of skin which usually lay folded back against their head and neck. 

A frill, like you remember seeing once, adorning a lizard from some travelling petting zoo. It’s supported by long spines of cartilage connected to each side of their jaw bone, and when spread to encircle the entirety of their head, is lined in pink and filled with bright orange scales.

Beast Boy called it a ‘deimatic display’ that first day, a behavior or reaction of patterns and colors used like a defensive bluff—akin to beady eyes on the back of a moth’s wings or selective changes in the body pattern of a cuttlefish—manipulated to startle, display a warning, or distract predators. But it seems ZuZu is able to use it a bit differently—a slight alien twist to the reaction, which allows them to communicate solely through a language formed by varying flashes and multitudes of color. 

You’ve all been scrambling to figure out the meanings behind each display lately, trading yes or no questions with the creature at any given point throughout the day, before documenting any noticeable details in the Tower’s staggering, inexhaustible database. 

Red, you’ve found quickly, suggests that they’re annoyed, or angry, or generally, exceedingly, unhappy about something. Yellow, on the other hand, simply implies content in the most peaceful sense. And pink? That’s become their version of taunting—something smug and annoyingly self-assured, which seems to be their more….colourful version of resting bitch face.  

You grunt at the heavy weight of ZuZu’s head as it presses more firmly against bruised muscles and skin, hidden away beneath the cozy, cotton sweatpants you’d wrestled from the bottom of your closet. It doesn’t keep you from slipping deeper though, into the clouded memories shrouding that first dreamlike morning after finally waking.

Robin—grinning, more relaxed then you’d ever seen him, and already lying back in his spot beside you on the bed—had leaned over when Star finally took a moment to find her breath, voice dipping low as he casually filled in the most obvious, glaring blanks in her story. He explained how they’d come upon ZuZu while rushing you back to the tower for medical attention—left behind by their master, defensive and shaking, and hidden away beneath the burning hot rubble from unlucky buildings crushed during the Jump City attack.

You can vaguely recall those creatures and their part in the invasion, as you hold the curious, unwavering stare of your new housemate. You pinpoint a fuzzy recollection of hundreds of similar alien hybrids, large percents of them being used as cannon fodder against the city’s responding defense—some sort of attack dogs or bloodhounds originally breed for what seemed to be an unparalleled sense of incoming danger. And a lethal aptitude for sniffing out and marking targets, even in the most extreme of circumstances. All to make the invading attack’s that much more…. precise. 

Equally as shaken and heartbroken, both Starfire and Beast Boy insisted on giving little ZuZu a home, one without the need for cold masters and needless sacrifices.

Robin admitted that it took some convincing to get him to agree, but that he caved to them rather quickly, like the truly soft-hearted dork you know he is on the inside. The one, you’ve been noticing, that is no longer carefully tempered behind masks both metaphorical and literal (like those you’d learned to cultivate for yourself, to ensure your own survival among the flocks of good and evil in this world)—all veils of enigmatic charm and cool leadership, strategy and logic.

(While for just as long, you had mused, you refined your wall of sarcasm and teasing, and strained, plastic smiles. Even as fate saw it fit to laugh and thrust you into the role of cosmic punching bag in both a figurative and literal sense).

Because Robin is never really one to deny a safe haven to someone, especially an orphan, in need.

And it’s not too hard to understand why.

It’s one quality you’ve only caught glimpses of, before the attempted invasion and one too many near-death experiences changed everything.

Your once positive opinion on lizards.

Your practical, humanly limitations regarding the ability to eat your weight in cold, cheese pizza.

Your mostly cynical take on all the possible wonders of this life.

Your team and their conduct—their outreach of friendship, their measure of trust and willing openness towards you.

Your place among them.  Your.... the need for the permanence of those masks.

All while you’ve been learning to come to terms with this warm, slowly blossoming….strange feeling of finally belonging.

ZuZu shifts to find a different angle, and then they’re sliding their head further into your lap, situating themselves just underneath your hovering hand. Your sullen gaze darts down to examine them again in the cresting evening sunlight, their lithe body bathed in an orange light that softens the harsh lines and edges of bluish-green scales, until they’re all but glittering like some magnificent, stain-glass fish below rippling water. 

Shit, they’re so wonderfully unique, maybe too much so, for a world that tears down all that’s different in the name of fear (and this you know all too well). They’re intelligent and hardheaded, and kind of an absolute dick if you’re being honest. But you can’t help but feel close to the little creature, and hope, however possibly (awfully) misguided, that it’s at least somewhat mutual. After all, for all their rough edges and guarded, worldly acceptance, they were learning to fit in here—just like you.

The flash of a long, forked tongue startles you from your thoughts, and you catch sight of it in your peripheral, snapping out towards the piece of half-eaten crust in your hand before you can even process where it’s suddenly emerged from. You jerk away clumsily on reflex, letting the crust plummet back to the plate in your lap as you lean to the side, trying to avoid the persistent little alien. You hoist the plate up and out of their reach at a safer distance—though not without a twinge of pain that bursts like fireworks in your shoulders. 

You glare down at them in admonishment.

Well then.

Earlier sentiment revoked, actually.

ZuZu narrows their intensely bright eyes right back at you, their frill rising from their neck like the hackles of an angry dog. The trim pleats of skin folded there flutter in anticipation before finally sweeping open with the rippling, fluid grace of a hand-held folding fan. The pretty scales lining the exposed frill change colour almost instantly when they hit the open air, flaring a deep red when you stick your tongue out at ZuZu in an act of childish defiance. 

Yeah, someone’s no longer a happy camper now, are they? Well, join the club, pal.

You can’t always get what you want. Because no matter what you do, life just likes to screw you in the—

It takes a total of three, distracted seconds.

The offending tongue snaps out at an impossible length to hit the surface of the plate. It’s like some cartoon frog catching a fly that’s far enough out of reach to be considered natural, the appendage wrapping around one end of the half-bitten crust, before proudly reeling it back down into a waiting mouth. Their jaw snaps shut again with an audible click of teeth, and they swallow their prize whole and much too slowly, flashing you a fanged smile that gives you the creeps.

Or you do, you find yourself bitterly amending in the wake of defeat, especially when you’re a terrifying space gremlin with freakish mouth biology. Why are you even awake again today?

You sag into the couch cushions with an unexpected wave of soul-weary tiredness, a full body and mind exhaustion creeping upon the fringes of your being, though you’d been fighting it off rather successfully for most of the month. 

You lower the empty plate to sit on the surface of the coffee table—while grumbling under your breath about the reigning injustice of such snack-stealing gremlins in your midst—and lean even more precariously forward. Much farther than you normally would consider doing without others around, but you persist in you reach, getting a good grip on the propped up crutch you’ve left leaning against the table. 

You struggle to your feet then, deciding to leave the main living room to find something more productive to do (rather than wallowing and getting your food pilfered from beneath your slowly healing, broken nose). ZuZu watches you silently from their cozy napping spot, gaze tracking you as you begin to hobble around the couch on your way from the room. You toss a half-hearted, parting wave to Starfire’s first adopted friend—a chunky, gooey, mutant moth larvae dubbed little Silkie, snoring away beneath an open side table near the couch.

It’s good going, until something unexpected flutters down from the ceiling with the grace of falling snow—just as you’re about to cross the threshold into the hallway. Your gaze follows the swirling path of the shiny, red and black length of foil as it lands near your feet. A candy wrapper.

Huh.

Strange.

You pause in your journey and peer down at it for a moment, bewildered enough to take a full step back before finally looking up to retrace its fallen path.

And okay, so in hind sight, you kind of wish you hadn’t left the couch.

A single, suspiciously green, bat drops like a stone from the ceiling once it’s seen, swooping down over your head with a panicked flutter of leathery wings. You shout and unashamedly curse like a drunken sailor, ducking in surprise to further avoid the little needle talons that brush across the top of your head. Beast Boy turns human once he clears your form and hits the floor, once again completely, frustratingly, naked when he hops up to his feet. 

He tries to quickly console you, only to jump back in order to dodge the fear-driven swing of your crutch.

“Hey! It’s just me!!” He exclaims, hands held out towards you. You sling your cast over your eyes and wonder just how bad it would be if you bleached them clean of the searing, full-frontal image that lingers just behind them.

“WEAR PANTS.” You demand in alarm.

“They’re not comfortable!” He complains. Eyes still tightly shut, you shake your head and gesture wildly at him, throwing out your plaster covered arm to wave it around in loose, frantic circles. “PANTS!” You insist in a higher voice. “Fine!”

He mutters something else, low and displeased under his breath, and then goes to dig out a familiar non-descript bag you’re used to finding at random—usually full of extra clothes and stashed around the tower, or other frequent hangout places around the city—hidden away within the grassy, potted plant next to you both. You choose to ignore the obvious sass he’s exuding in protest, cracking open an eye just a bit to make sure he’s following through. 

He smoothly tugs his purple and black uniform free from the depths of the shiny leaves, wrangling on the bottom half with a pout as quickly as he can, and before you know it, he’s already shrugging the fabric up over his narrow shoulders.

(Though to your satisfaction he’s careful of the stitches still lining his spine). You sigh in relief, “Just—oh my god, what were even you doing up there in the first place?!”

Beast Boy works his mouth in silence as though he can’t find the right words to explain at the moment, bottom canines glinting as he squints up through the fluorescent lights and tosses the empty bag to rest beside the plant. He seems to be thinking hard about his answer (you hope), his gaze dropping to you after a few seconds of awkward, disbelieving silence. He shrugs, apparently deciding it’s appropriate to simply respond with a pair of finger-guns and a strained grin. “....hanging around?”

…..

You think you’re starting to miss those dragon-tailed, sumo alien’s from space-hell.

Your shoulders slump as the pent up energy from your frustration and sudden scare seeps from your body all at once. You groan, lifting your crutch up to point at him, the tip barely brushing against his chest. “You’re dead to me.” You proclaim lightly. Beast Boy rolls his eyes, and after securing the clasp on the back of his suit with a small chuckle, reaches out to gently lower the makeshift weapon. “Oh, come on—”

You don’t wait for him to finish, moving to hobble around him and retreat to your room. You shouldn’t have gotten up today. Nope. Call it a bad feeling. Something is going on around here and you are getting the hell out while you can. He slides into your path immediately, cutting of your escape with a smooth glide across the hardwood flooring. You narrow your eyes, shuffling to move around him again. He meets you like before, lunging closer still with each attempt to counteract your movements. You huff and stare him down, feeling like a Spanish bull in the ring, ready to charge the moment you see an opening. “BB, move.” You warn lowly.  

He throws out his arms to either side of him, blocking your way when you take a threatening step forward. “Can’t do that.” He chirps, puffing out his chest to seem more confident in his current position, while beginning to look as though he’s starting to regret his life’s choices, what with the way you’re gaze is cutting into his very soul. (Positively icy. You’d practiced that, rest in peace).

But he doesn’t move.

You frown and glare at him suspiciously, forcing your heavy limbs to cooperate with you for a moment. You take a step to the right, and as expected Beast Boy mirrors your movement, but your body isn’t as fast as you remember it. And he knows it. You careen to the left to try and complete your fake-out, but Beast Boy anticipates the slow sway of your body, following the uneven momentum like a puppet on strings to block your way yet again.

 He reaches out to steady you when you wobble, legs shaking with the sudden quick strain on your knees, and you wince at the flair of pain. Crappy broken body. You shake him off angrily, more upset at yourself then at him, and strike your crutch against the floor with a wave of strength (propelled simply by the heated frustration you feel festering in your chest like icky, wriggling worms). “Beast Bo—Gar, I’m serious.” You hiss in annoyance, ignoring the ricocheting twinge of pain that shoots up into your shoulder at the action.

“Believe it or not, so am I!” He defends, hands flying to his hips.

“Debatable.” You snap back.

“Rude.”

“Twenty bucks on (Y/N).” A new, deeper voice declares with obvious amusement. You spin to face the living room again, Beast Boy peeking around you to get a better view. Cyborg and Starfire are standing before you, having appeared out of thin air and quiet as can be, the latter of the duo looking as though she could just burst with excitement. More than usual. Cyborg’s gaze cuts to you when he notices the way you’re staring at her in confusion, putting a hand on her shoulder and squeezing gently to sooth the absurd tremble of her body. 

Okay. Double suspicious. 

They’re dressed in casual clothes; Starfire in high-waisted, purple shorts and a stylish pink sweater that hangs off her shoulders, her wild red hair tied back into a ponytail and her feet bare, smile wide. Cyborg is donned in sweatpants and an old blue and yellow football jersey you think might have seen better days once, newly buffered limbs gleaming under the lights. Beast Boy pursues his lips and squints up at his friend when he catches sight of the teasing smirk Cyborg trains on him.  

“Thanks, dude.” He responds as sarcastically as he can. Starfire spins to face Cyborg with glee, hands clasped in front of her.

“Friend Victor, I too wish to attribute money to the outcome of this argument.” She reveals enthusiastically, leaving you to trade an exhausted look with Beast Boy at the spiraling situation. Cyborg’s grin grows larger, and he winks at you both before giving Starfire his undivided attention.

“Okay.” He relents, staring down at her curiously. “Bettin’ on (Y/N) then?”

Starfire pauses, nose crinkling as she considers the question. “Can I not take part of the betting for both?”

“No, Star, it doesn’t really—” Cyborg begins, sighing with reluctance when she only continues to look up at him expectantly. “You know what? Sure.” He amends with a shrug, rubbing at the back of his head. Starfire claps her hands excitedly and laughs, her feet lifting from the floor in her in a rush of elation.

“Glorious!” She exclaims. You almost miss it when Cyborg turns away from her, but you’re able to barely catch the sly way she throws a wink at you too, the quick gesture leaving you reeling in amusement.

Oh shit, what a hero.

You can definitely appreciate a good swindle win you see one. And that was great.

You slump against your crutch and chuckle tiredly, massaging your forehead with the tips of the fingers peeking stiffly from your cast, before raising your arm up to draw their attention.

“Alright, seriously, what’s going on with you guys today? Where’ve you all been? Some secret club within our secret club?” You question fervently, on a  new mission as you hobble closer towards them. “I have to admit, I’m kind of offended if that’s the case.”

“Oh, you know, out.” Cyborg says much too casually and unhelpfully for your liking, shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweats. Simultaneously, Starfire responds much too quickly.

“In my room!” She declares loudly, unable to stop herself from flinching at the sharp, wide-eyed look Cyborg cuts her. She mouths an apology at him and flashes you a sheepish smile, tapping the tips of her index fingers together.

Oh, something is definitely going on. Not on my watch, secret keepers of the crypt.

You squint at them, “Sure. I’ll believe that. But why do I suddenly have a five-foot-furry shadow? One who doesn’t seem to know the concept of the word shame?”

Beast Boy gasps as though he’s never been so insulted in his young life (okay, so you may have possibly taken it a little too far that time. But in your defense, there’s a lot of stressful things going on right now, and the bat thing may have thrown you a little too far over the edge), scurrying around you to passionately wave a random, uh, peace sign in front of your face.

Wait, what?

“Five-foot-two.” He stresses firmly, wiggling both fingers for emphasis. You lean your weight on the single crutch keeping you gloriously upright, reaching out to tug his hand down with a groan.

“So not the point, batboy.”

“Hey! Bats are cool!”

“Ha! You know what else is cool?” You question sarcastically, nestling your casted arm against your chest as you lean forward to regard him with an arched eyebrow. “Not scaring the living shit of a person who’s already legally died twice from heart failure.”

Beast Boy concedes to your logic with a grimace, no doubt fighting off a burst of vivid memory on the subject.

“Point taken.” He agrees.

Cyborg pads over to you with a muffled laugh, giving your upper back a hearty, friendly slap that propels you forward a few steps. “Aw, B.B.’s just doing his job. Lighten up, (Y/N/N).”

You stumble with a strangled sound and work to regain your balance yourself through burning muscles, gripping the handle and uprights of the crutch as tightly as you can. You always forget how strong he is. And sometimes, though not often, so does he. Cyborg winces, flexing his fingers while he graces you with an apologetic smile. You raise an eyebrow at him; eyes locked intently on his face, as though you could simply reach into his mind and know all with a simple blink, and subtly tilt your head towards Beast Boy.

"And that means I can't leave one single room?"

"It was more to keep you busy." Cyborg admits with a grin that makes you all too nervous.  

Okay, red flag. Were you sweating? You might be sweating. They weren’t the…vengeful type, right? It’s not really your fault you tend to stress eat. Though….

"What are you all planning?" You ask again, unconsciously scanning the corners of room behind them for your two missing team members. Why do you feel like you’re about to be ambushed? Starfire hops forward like she’s stepping on air, looping her arm through yours and shaking it gently as she leans into you. Then she begins to drag you forward the smallest bit.

"Something wonderful!” She responds in that giddy way of hers, green eyes simmering with something impassioned and restless when they focus on your dumbfounded expression—fire brimming from her touch and her very being. She leans in closer and continues in a secretive whisper, which you think was meant to be soothing at some point between her thought process and strange execution. “But you must come to the roof to see it, my friend."

The….roof?

What’s so special about the fucking—

Oh.

….

Sonuvabitch.

To be completely honest, you knew it would somehow end like this. Betrayed by a moment of weakness and reduced to seething shame and broken trust, only to be real-life ghosted and then unceremoniously Mufasa-ed by your own team. A dramatic, imminent doom of Disney proportions. Ugh, what an embarrassing way to go. You really shouldn’t have gotten out of bed this morning like some normal, model citizen with an inane urge to contribute to society. What an idiot.

Still….maybe you’re just being a little over-dramatic here. Heroes usually have non-murdery morals, don’t they? Which is a big step up from your last group of…yeah….they weren’t even close to friends. Still, you can never be too careful these days. Right? Right.

You pull back from Starfire, trying to sound teasing as you respond, while barreling through your baseless internal panic and sprinkle of sugar-riddled guilt. How do you always get yourself into these messes?

"Is this the part where you throw me from the top? For finishing off the leftover cake without telling anyone?"

Beast Boy’s jaw drops.

"That was you?!"

Of course it was.

You laugh nervously and much too awkwardly to be convincing while you scramble to backtrack, "What?! Of course not!"

It was so good.

Starfire looks kind of horrified at your earlier insinuation about the roof, and she pulls away from you completely, eyes wide and unbelieving. She gasps, "We would never!"

Cyborg’s eyebrow shoots up as he studies your reaction. He frowns, lifting a hand to rub at his chin with an exaggerated sweep of his arm—as though he’s taking a moment to think more deeply about the matter—his metal fingers clunk-ing in the blanketing silence when they meet the thick, metal plate covering it. He sounds playful when he speaks up, and you know he’s not taking the news as hard as Gar currently is. 

"Well, now you've given me a lot to think about." He says slowly, amusement thick in his voice and vibrantly pulsing beneath his already crumbling, disappointed façade.

You wonder when it was exactly—when you’d unconsciously began to find his eagerly outspoken and protective spirit, his overly intense and personal pride (in all manners of technological tinkering and projects), and awful, awful acting, somewhat endearing. Maybe it was around the same time you’d grown rather fond of Beast Boy’s organic simplicity with life or perfectly-timed wit, his endearing, steadfast spirit and dorky, down-to-earth charm (though you would deny any accusation that says otherwise, pretending to find his endless stream of puns nothing but annoying). 

Or Starfire’s unfathomable warmth and, mostly smothering, overzealous passion in all things, no matter how small—a burning, extraterrestrial sun with a warrior’s soul and an open heart. Or Raven’s sarcastic calm and quiet disposition, a hopeful kind of darkness—as encompassing as it mystifying—which brings peace in ways one wouldn’t expect or think they needed. 

Or Robin. Noble and kind, brooding, insufferably stubborn, Robin—with an annoying competitive streak that rivals even you. Your outwardly, fearless friend and leader, a little birdie who keeps you from slipping back into your cold, old ways while still wanting to be a part of something better. To be a Titan. Time and time again. And—

Ah, fuck. You’ve gotten so sappy lately.

Near death experiences are the worst.

You roll your eyes at Cyborg, regardless of that grating, growing itch of sentimentality crawling up from your chest and into your throat like a rock, all the while fighting down the upwards twitch your lips.

"Oh, shut up.” You mutter, ducking your head so he won’t see as you move to hobble past the group back into the centre of the living room. “Even though I'm at my weakest right now, it doesn't mean I won't fight you."

Cyborg drops his arm and laughs, "I don't doubt it."

Beast Boy ducks around him; sparing no time as he shrinks down to the form of a chattering, green squirrel. Without breaking stride, he dashes towards your slowing figure, leaping forward to scale the rungs of your crutch. 

You jump at the sudden weight and list sideways, the vibration of his hurried ascent and the clattering of his nails against metal throwing you out of your concentrated state. You lean back too fast in surprise, catching the back of the couch with the underside of your cast to keep yourself somewhat upright, and wait with a raised brow as he moves to pull himself up onto the crutch pad at the top.

"Besides, you proved you’re anything but weak when you kicked Death’s ass! Multiple times.” He chirps proudly, settling back onto his little hind legs to stare up at you, bushy tail twitching and dark eyes round and glinting when they catch the light. “You're a survivor. Always have been.”

You grin, feeling satisfied that he finally seems to be more…relaxed about your injuries now (as opposed to the annoying, but much appreciated, panicked mother-henning you’d experienced throughout the first few weeks back on your feet). You have a sneaking suspicion Cyborg had a hand in this recent development—bless his beautiful, understanding soul—and you make a mental note to treat him to a pizza night soon. Or just hug him really, really tight in relief.

You heft your cast from the couch to hold out two fingers towards Beast Boy.

"And always will be." You agree. He reaches out with a shrill, happy squeak, tapping a front paw against them in a painfully adorable semblance of a high-five. Starfire joins you by the couch and lays her hand against your upper back, right between your shoulder blades, the swelling heat of it soothing the ache and strain of your poor muscles. Her gentle touch slides up, mindful of the bruises still splattered like patchwork across your skin, until you feel her lightly squeeze your shoulder.

"Very much like the warriors of old from my planet." She tells you softly, a smile pulling at her lips when your eyes dart up to look at her. It’s then you realize that all three of them are now looking at you rather expectantly, attention solely trained on your face as the room falls into an eager kind of silence. One that is quick to twist your abdomen into fluttering, nervous knots. 

Right, you think with a start, there was something about the roof—something they wanted me to see. You hesitate (is it getting hot in here, or is that just you self-combusting?), gaze jumping to each of your friends in turn. They continue to stare you down with purpose, waiting for your consent to be dazzled and thoroughly surprised, before you catch the barest hint of movement in your peripheral vision. You glance down at the back of the couch, wanting to scream your frustration to the sky, when you take in the wide, furry face peering back up at you.

Oh, not you too, ZuZu. You traitor.

She locks those intelligent eyes on you. He glowing pink gaze is intent and reprimanding, and god, you’re actually—silently, awkwardly—getting told off by an adorable lizard-themed care bear, who hails from the far reaches of infinity and beyond the known galaxy. What has your life come too? And the worst part is you don’t think you’re strong enough to—oh, goddamit. Peer pressure is a bitch.

"Alright.” You relent with a groan, throwing ZuZu a pointed, disgruntled look (which she simply counters with a glowing pink frill and mischievous wink, a move that has you breathing deeply to avoid just chucking your crutch across the room in defiance of it all). You turn to gesture at the others, “Fine. Let's get this show on the road then."

Beast Boy leaps down from the top of the crutch before you’ve even finished talking, his tiny shape shifting into the much larger form of a tiger once he touches down (more gracefully than you’d expected him to). He gives a little throaty growl in excitement, circling in place to get his bearings. And then with a sudden focus that makes you laugh, he’s bounding in a rush to slink between Cyborg and Starfire—his gaze already intensely trained down the hallway that leads towards the elevator.

"Sweet! Now you’re talking!" He exclaims with a swish of his tail, pausing only for a moment to throw a look back at Cyborg, the familiar imitation of a fanged grin even more terrifying with larger, sharper teeth on display. "Dibs on the donuts!"

Uh, donuts??

Cyborg groans and scrubs a hand over his face, stepping forward with his other hand outstretched, as if he could keep his excited friend from moving with just sheer force of will. "No! You don't get to just—Gar!"

Starfire tilts her head and watches until Beast Boy disappears around the curve of the hallway, "You have to admire his will power up until this moment." She points out, reaching out to brush a soothing touch to Cyborg’s shoulder.

He gives her a solemn nod in agreement. "...true." "Hi, yeah, still confused." You slowly iterate, when it’s clear they’re going to say nothing more on the manner, and looking hilariously haunted, just stare out into the middle distance like some kind of dramatic dork-asses. You can’t help it though—you want answers. You’ve been officially intrigued (donuts are always a good sign and nothing will convince you otherwise) and that cat-damning curiosity in you can never be quieted for long, so help you.

“Are we still going to the roof?”

Cyborg is the first to shake himself to attention, and he swings around to look at you with a knowing grin that tells you’re probably about to regret opening your mouth again. Probably. You guess?

…..

Okay, so you might be already exhausted enough now, with all this moving about and floundering, moral turmoil, to deal with any mysterious roof meetings and their possible consequences—and there’s no truly hiding it, or just burying it away for future you to worry about come morning (damn, why is past you always such a dick?).

Which leaves you decidedly awash in a ‘My mind is an emotional dumpster fire and all I want is to hibernate for forty years’ kind of way, unable to completely distinguish the nuances of your feelings on anything happening within a 10 foot radius. 

Especially since you’d….broken that quiet morning after the attack, finally reconciling with a screeching realization you’d been pushing back for years—even with all that damaged purpose, all that strength and determination and precious time you’d flooded into looking after yourself and only you, instead of worrying about others and how they might screw with you this time, you’d left yourself open anyway. Unwillingly, accidently, raw—like an exposed nerve adrift in the cosmos and crying out for relief.

Someone in power must have had mercy on you at last though, because you have friends. Good friends who are good people. And you love them in your own rough-around-the-edges way (is that the right word here? Love? You hope that’s the right word—it feels like the right word); but there’s no chance you’re ever going to tell any of them that. It’s become too embarrassing to even think about in your own mind, let alone out loud where they could actually...hear you.

But you’re not going to let all your personal baggage stop you now. Not while there’s the promise of donuts anyway.

Yeah, your priorities might need a little sorting out.

"Come on." Cyborg says, already treading backwards in the direction Beast Boy had gone. Starfire zips past you with ease, cutting around the corner like a fish would dart through deep water.

Her laugh echoes through the hall as she vanishes from sight, "Oh, this is going to be such a joyous occasion!"

Cyborg takes his time to snicker at the nervous grimace on your face. But you valiantly choose to be the bigger person here (no matter how much you want to knock your head against the nearest wall and see if your middle finger still works within the stiffness of a cast), simply rolling your eyes as you hobble to catch up to him around the bend in the hallway. He slows his pace without a word until you’re following closely at his side.

“So why aren’t we taking the elevator?” You inquire, watching as the thick metal doors slide past in your peripheral. It’s then you spot the other two loitering around by the door to the stairs.

The plot thickens.

Cyborg struggles to squash his playful grin, “Occupied.”

“By...”

“A second surprise. Now come on.” He diverts smoothly, waving his hand over the sensor for the door once Beast Boy and Starfire step away to make room for you both. It slides open from left to right with a mechanical hiss, and you peer in to the brightly lit stairwell with a raised brow. The glaring, white fluorescent lights are already giving you a headache.

“How do you expect me to get up the stairs?”

“Easy.”

“Oh, really? Easy? What are you even—”

The world shifts like a seesaw in your vision and you can barely comprehend the next few seconds: the way Cyborg stoops low enough to knock out the backs of your knees, the simultaneous rush of weightlessness—a fluttering, dizzying drop in your stomach that stalls the very breath in your chest—or even the jumbled burst of restrained laughter and disapproving click of a tongue which dissipates almost as soon as it starts. 

And you tip backwards into his arms with flailing limbs and a startled yelp as you’re gently scooped up, hanging shocked and boneless until he swings you up to cling onto his back like some sort of panicked koala. Cyborg laughs more boisterously as you lose your crutch in the commotion, grip loosening in your surprise until it slips entirely from your hold and vanishes from reach, the telltale clattering of metal against ground echoing from somewhere off to the side.

“—goddammit, Vic!” You gasp when the world stands still again, sucking in air for your breathless lungs. “A little warning!”

He simply cups the back of your knees and holds your legs tightly over the ridged, triangular slab of metal casing his hips, slowly straightening to his full, giant height again. It gives you a moment to throw your arms around his neck for safety and squeeze with all your reprimanding might. Cyborg turns to look at you with a teasing smirk you’re all too familiar with, before stepping further into the doorway.

“Comfortable there, Grumpy?”

“You’re the worst.” You announce without any real bite, leaning back to scan the floor for your missing crutch. It doesn’t take you long to realize that Starfire has already rescued it, hugging the dented metal pole to her chest with a look of determination. She catches your relieved gaze over Cyborg’s shoulder and nods as if reassuring you that she’s got everything handled now, gently patting the cushioned padding at the top of the crutch.

And then her eyes eagerly snap to Cyborg.

You can’t see his face from your vantage point, but you think he’s relaying permission with the way he tilts his head towards the stairs. Both Starfire and Beast Boy rocket forward in any case, barely sidestepping around you in their race up the first flight of stairs. Cyborg follows them without hesitation, and you can hardly wait another moment once your little group hurriedly passes the third floor, before the mystery of the roof becomes too intriguing to avoid any longer.

“So...are Rob and Raven in on this too?” You carefully begin, speaking to no one in particular but hoping someone might answer you anyway. “Cause they've been more mysterious than usual.”

"Grumpy and observant. You know…you'd make a pretty awesome detective too—give Dick some healthy competition around here." Cyborg returns in an innocent manner, which you know for a fact is bullshit. So you lamely thump a fist against the point between the heavy, metal plating circling his neck before it tapers down into his chest, and grumble your displeasure.

"Annnd you're dodging my questions, big guy. Again."

Cyborg says nothing this time and simply uses the firm hold he has under your knees to toss you up a few inches, jostling you free from your comfortable koala cling as though he`s trying to readjust your position. Only you know that’s not what he intended at all—evidenced by the irritating way he starts to laugh while you groan at him and shimmy urgently at his back, trying to right yourself from the haphazard tilt you’d landed in.

"Ugh! I miss being able to walk up a flight of stairs like a normal person!" You whine, bonking your forehead against the smooth, climate-controlled casing covering the back of his head, the vibrations of his full-body laughter rattling straight through you.

Beast Boy goes still ahead of the group, front paw hovering above the next step up. That unsettling tiger grin as he turns to regard you is the only warning you get before the inevitable.

"Eh, I wouldn’t trust these stairs though,” Beast Boy drawls with terrifying purpose, “They always seem like they're…up to something."

Starfire pipes up from her place hovering beside you and Cyborg in perfect comedic timing, her eyes narrowed in contemplation.

"Well yes, up to the roof—oh...that was..."

Yeah, Kori. Damn.

He waits in the ensuing, hollow silence of the stairwell for a reaction, gaze expectantly darting from person to person until you don’t know whether to laugh or just get mad.

....both?

Alright, okay, here’s the thing.

Though you may have...secretly....begun to appreciate Garfield’s endless arsenal of jokes and puns as much as that next person (you’ve got a reputation to uphold after all), that....was not so good. 

You’d face palm if you had complete confidence in your upper body strength as of late, but you definitely do not—especially after that embarrassingly sad attempt to escape to your room earlier (feat. the interference of your awkwardly unexpected, five foot-two bodyguard). And you’d very much like to keep securely clinging for your life atop mount ‘Victory’ Stone instead, rather than somehow (ridiculously) finding some way to slip from his back and fall to a more permanent death down the tower’s two-hundred stairway to hell.

So, you’ll just lock away this existential breakdown for another day and move on. Be the bigger person here, again.

....

Or.

"I think I'm starting to miss the coma." You deadpan with unabashed pettiness (because you’d actually had to listen to that with your own two ears), refusing to give him even the slightest satisfaction of a job well done.

Step up your game, Gar.

You can pinpoint the exact moment Cyborg winces with regret for his friend—his chin dipping down, the glowing blue machinery encasing half his skull whirring with a soft, discomforting humming like he’s finally reduced to just screaming on the inside.

"Oof,” He eventually adds through a long exhale. “I've heard better stuff from you, man."

Beast Boy sniffs in displeasure at your less than positive reactions, "Yo, give me a break; I'm still getting over the pizza thing."

You heft your body up straight to stare him dead in the eyes and lift your unbroken arm, wiggling your fingers over Cyborg’s head in a teasing way. "Let it haunt you for the rest of your daaaays~"

You don’t think you’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing a hulking, green, murder cat roll its eyes so hard before. But there it is—in all its uncanny, cartoon-like glory. Beast Boy shakes his heavy head and resumes slinking up the stairs, leaving the rest of you to catch up while he throws another line over his shoulder, in a way you know is meant to be a playful declaration of war.

"Which reminds me...” He purrs slyly, “….what did the ghost say when it arrived at the party?"

Starfire taps at her chin in thought, "Ummm hello?”

Beast Boy’s enthusiasm swells with her genuine attempt, and he turns to coax his best friend into answering as well.

"Not quite. Come on, Cy, this is all you dude."

"Can I get a—"

"Victor don't you dare!"

Cyborg merely hums at your desperate interjection, "Uh-oh full name. That's never a good sign."

"Oh!” Starfire’s expression lights up in a way you’re entirely used to by now, and she leaves your side on the flutter of a giddy laugh, hovering quick up the next few steps. She smiles down at Beast Boy once she reaches him, titling her head as he looks up at her with an animated flick of his tail.

“I believe I know this one. May I?" She quietly gushes, twirling to lounge back gracefully in the air beside him. His head bobs once, long and slow, still flashing that sharp grin.

"Dazzle me, Star."

"Can I get the Boo-ya!!?"

"HA! Yeah, that’s wassup!"

You thunk your head against Cyborg’s shoulder this time, wincing at the brief pulse of pain from pounding metal against skull. "Oh my god, are we there yet?"

"As a matter of fact..." Cyborg mysteriously trails off, hopping up the last step to the top landing of the stairway. You peek up in interest and immediately want a better look when you see that the access to the roof is propped open the slightest bit, squishing your cheek against Cyborg’s as you lean forwards with the anticipation of it all. It’s easy to spot the flickering movement from just beyond the door—shadows moving fast from one end to the other. Is someone already there?

You suck in an anxious breath when Cyborg lowers himself to one knee and releases his hold on you, carefully helping you dismount from your cling, and Starfire is all too eager to return your crutch, pushing it into your arms and waving you forwards. Your friends let you nudge open the door then without another word, following you out as you bravely take your first few steps and—

…..

You think you might’ve blacked out for a moment in shock.

Beast Boy circles your legs as you silently take in the state of the roof, rubbing against them with a gentle brush of his body before he exclaims, "Surprise! Did we getcha??"

You blink a few times to get your bewildered mind working again. Because out of any possible scenario you could have—and did—invent within your imagination….it was nothing like…well, this.

The smell of hot food wafting through the summer-like air reaches you first, and you’re drawn to admire what is definitely Starfire's touch in your unexpected surprise. 

There are two tables set up across the roof directly ahead, side by side and pushed flush against the lip of rectangular ledge boxing in the space. Each wooden surface is filled with cutlery, food and drinks in jade colored bowls and glasses, and adorned with fun, rainbow coloured table cloths—the cheap, plastic kind you’d find from a dollar store—and regal centre pieces among the clutter. These consist of wreaths with beaded jewel strings and alien metal shapes, forms that remind you of branded symbols you’d once glimpsed from the hilts of her homeworld weapons.

There’s a fancy new boom box sitting on the ledge, just to the left of the food tables. It’s silvery and shiny in the late evening light, akin to the small heap of patterned presents sitting below it, or the bouquets of metallic balloons weighed down by sandbags in each corner of the roof. 

Cyborg’s own creative touch is more quiet, but still obvious in your racing mind, reflected in the large blue and white fairy lights the size of your fist, strings of them hooked beneath the ledge and spaced along the entire perimeter of the roof. They remind you of mini lava lamps—slowly swinging, each casing filled with swirling, pulsing energy, casting loops of light and shadow which dance across the sleek stone of the rooftop ground.

Your gaze finds four, dark green bean bag chairs next, moved from the game room to sit in a circle further down the left side of the roof. A neat, tent-like canopy, reminiscent of Raven’s more gothic looking style, is set up over them and affixed with steel piping, made of sheer dark sheets in purple, blue, and black—a cozy, magical lounging spot that makes you long for the calmness and dark that only sleep can bring. 

You slowly turn to your right, noting that access to the elevator on the other side of the roof is surprisingly clear for once, the usual pile of rickety telescope gear stored away to make room for dancing. And through an odd urge to cast a look behind you, you easily catch sight of the cute, homemade banner dangling above the door you’ve just stepped through, green and bubblegum pink letters scrawled across a white strip of poster board: Party Like It’s Your Birthday!!

You recognize Beast Boy’s handwriting the moment your eyes trace the first few letters.

It takes you a moment, still staring out at the culmination of your surprise, to realize that it all clashes terribly, although you don't find yourself caring in the slightest. It’s beautiful and endearing and makes sense to you in every way that matters—and you wouldn't have it look any other way.

Huh…look at that.

You're actually getting a hang of this sappy feelings thing.  "Uh, wh—I…what's all this for?" You finally manage to sputter out, once your friends go back to watching you with those barely contained grins and expectant gazes. Even Raven, already in the midst of final preparations, standing by that glorious canopy as she methodically smoothes out wrinkles in the overlapping fabric—both manually and magically—is smiling shyly at you over her shoulder. Her dark, purple-colored eyes are carefully mapping out every hitch in your expression. 

Like the others, she’s dressed more casually than you’re used to seeing around the tower; ripped dark-washed skinny jeans with a cropped tee to match and clunky, black combat boots, a leather choker that looks uncomfortably tight around her neck. But the most unexpected difference has to be when you realize what she’s missing. Her signature, purple-blue cloak has been swapped for a hooded, bomber jacket—black with gold zippers and detailing, and one size too big. It’s so strange a sight that it’s actually….kind of weirding you out a little.

Starfire grasps the wrist of your cast and gently tugs you forward, guiding you further into the organized mayhem that was once the tower’s roof. "The happiest day of birth to you my friend!"

Oh. Oh.

Now this is awkward.

"It's my…birthday?" You ask dumbly. Beast boy’s tiny head, that of an adorably, fluffed up squirrel monkey this time, pops up from the depths of a bowl sitting on the first food table—like some knock-off whack-o-mole game (and wait a goddamn minute, when the hell did he even get there?). His little hands grip the lip of the bowl as he chatters through crunching pretzels.

"Duh! At least yeah, I think so…uh, right?"

You clasp a hand to your forehead when you remember the date and groan, "No, no, you’re right, I think it is. Crap, I feel like I lost an entire year."

Starfire’s whole body slumps at your reaction, floating down until her feet touch ground.

"You are unhappy." She concludes sadly.

Aw, cripes, why are you like this?

"NO! No, Kori, I'm happy!” You hurriedly reassure her, “I just....I haven't really celebrated it in a long time. I never had anyone to..."

They hear your unspoken implication clear enough and offer you sad, little smiles—varying degrees of empathy seeping through into their expressions. Empathy. And not pity. Not judgment. Just compassion from people who understand it all. 

An alien princess far from home who embraces difference and is learning to choose a life for herself, a half-cybernetic football star who had to learn when to let go and walk a new path in life, a troubled half-demon not wanting to be defined by the past or her heritage, a metahuman menagerie of animals fighting the pull of loneliness while still finding strength in his friends, and an orphan circus boy turned vigilante—given not only a second chance to make a difference for others, but unwavering hope as well.

Your own Breakfast Club of heroes.

"Well now ‘ya have us." Beast Boy says with serious resolve you haven’t often seen when it comes to your loyal jokester, the others agreeing simultaneously as he bounds closer in small leaps from across the table. There’s a painful clenching in your chest at their sentiments, and although it feels like you’re on the verge of a heart attack, it’s a good kind of hurt that brings relief to your entire being.

Because thinking it is one thing, but hearing it out loud dregs more emotion to the surface than you ever thought you had—makes it all the more real. You swallow thickly and try to keep composed through another monumental shift in your perceptions.

"I know." You return softly.  Starfire takes your hand and holds it firmly in hers, mindful of the strength in her grip.

"And you are indeed truly....happy?"

Well, that’s a heavy question.

You never truly belonged anywhere, in the past. Too unnatural for everyday civilians, too angry for heroes, too kind for villains. You never understood why no one could just let you be....something in the middle.

But now, you think you’re finally learning that happy is something you can be, even while half-existing in that kind of grey area. So you squeeze her hand in reassurance and take a page from Beast Boy’s book—you attempt to lighten the mood.

"I will be once we get this party started." You tease, pulling away to turn on the boom box and click through stations in search of something party worthy. With that, the others move to disperse; Starfire and the boys already picking through the food tables with interest, while Raven briefly ducks beneath one to retrieve an opaque, plastic storage tote. 

It’s blue and more than decently sized in her arms, but she carries it easily and without a word to the bean bag canopy, sitting (legs crossed and back perfectly straight) to methodically sift through its contents.

Starfire waves you towards the food tables once you settle on a popular radio station known for their mix of genres and artists—a little something for everyone hopefully.

"Come then, you must partake in some of this delicious food. I tried earth recipes." She proudly tells you, scooping up some sort of rice dish to wave under your nose as though hoping to entice you further. It smells pleasant, of grilled vegetables and egg, but all your attention has latched onto a single word that equally intrigues as it concerns you.

“Tried.” You echo, leaning to balance on your crutch and free up your unbroken arm. You press a single finger against the rim of the dish in her hands, lowering it down and away from your face. Starfire looks a little sheepish as she curls an arm around the ceramic, rounded dish and fits it into the crook of her elbow to rest, lifting her own newly freed arm to sweep a lock of hair behind her ear. A nervous tick.

She hugs the dish even closer, “There were…the incidents.”

“Nothing you couldn’t handle.” Raven adds from afar. Starfire leans around you to beam at her welcome encouragement; seeming as though she’s already seconds away from just fly-tackling her into a vice-like hug—a very Starfire act of affection.

Which you should probably redirect now, if you want to keep that beautiful canopy standing.

"Everything smells great, Star. Thank you. In fact..." You select a spoon from the first table and a tiny serving plate, before gesturing in silent question to the dish still in her arms. She’s ecstatic at your offer, extending it to you at once with bright, shining eyes. You carefully ladle out a few spoonfuls of the rice mixture, and with a playful cheers and raise of your spoon, you taste your first dish of the evening.

"Oh shit, that's good." You groan in surprise.

"Oh wonderful, I knew you would enjoy it!"

Beast Boy whoops eagerly from the centre of the second table, crouching among a spread of simple desserts. "Wicked! I call the donuts next!"

Cyborg anticipates his movement before you can, firmly squashing a hand against Beast Boy’s monkey head to keep him from leaping towards an open tray. Beast Boy whines openly at the injustice.

"Dude, come on, be cool!"

Ah, now that makes sense.

Starfire sighs and returns the tasty rice dish to its rightful place, hesitating only to shoot you an apologetic look as she steps towards the commotion. But you just smile in understanding, gesturing for her to go on and deal with the boys before they decimate all of her hard work.

And now it’s probably a good idea to clear the blast zone.

You make a rather slow beeline for the front entrance of the canopy, lowering your body down to sit in the place Raven silently offers you by shifting pointedly to the side—content to be off your feet for a moment. Raven picks up on your underlying curiosity though, the second you glance at the box still under her scrutiny, her gaze cutting up to regard you with the slightest touch of amusement. 

You observe the way she tips her head, a pulse of darkened magic lighting up around the mysterious container, and it slides in a short burst to rest in front of you.

Well, well, what do we have here?

You peer down into the depths and react too late to stifle your gasp.

It’s filled with boxes of classic party games and entertainment, stacked upon each other in neat little towers along the inside: video game cartridges and two portable games devices, a deck of cards, Connect Four, Cluedo, and yep….that's definitely Twister, oh my fuck (you may be a little over excited for this. Which is strange for you...considering you can't even remember the last time you've ever so passionately, deeply, viscerally, wanted to roll out a stupid, colorful tarp and contort your body into unhealthy positions), a wooden board and an accompanying game-piece tin for Checkers, Pictionary, Monopoly, Jenga, Uno, the Game of Life (aaaannd too real with this one actually, might be avoiding that), Guess Who?, Snakes and Ladders, as well as games you hadn't seen since your earlier days of childhood—Rock 'em Sock 'em Robots and Hungry Hungry Hippos (meaning your small child self is living right now).  

Only one person knew about this, knew about your stupid birthday-candle wishes from the short, hopeful part of your childhood that's since been eradicated by harsh realities; the longing desperation to make any kind of worthwhile connection, to know love or be wanted outside of a means to a quick pay-day. 

To swing with others at a crowded park, to play games and join clubs, or have a sleepover with greasy food and late night truths—to be free (and you blame this emotional vomit entirely on exhausted, blabbermouth you, spilling your guts in a tired stupor while sharing stove-top hot chocolate in the kitchen at 3 a.m. Feeling vulnerable when he'd quietly shared his own frustrations with the role of leader and recent disconnect with his father, letting you lament in return about never getting the chance to just…be a normal kid. Something he understood. Something he remembered).

Oh, Dick Grayson.

You are the best of us.

You shake your head clear of any vivid memories, reaching in to unearth the Twister box and hold it up to admire its magnificence in the rapidly fading light. "So.” You start in what you hope is a casual enough tone, exchanging the box for another to seem busy. “You put all of this together, huh?"

She shrugs, "We figured you could use some...fun. After everything that's happened."

You grin and fish out an exceptionally old classic next, pointing the vibrant box of colourful, caricature hippos at her. "I didn't think this was your kind of fun, Rae."

"It's not.” Raven admits bluntly, floating the game from your hands despite your protest and back into the storage container with a challenging raise of her brow. “But I can enjoy the value in it. And in spending time with my friends." 

(You don’t do enough of that. Why don’t you do enough of that?)

"Pfft are you going soft on us?" You say, weakly avoiding eye contact while wrestling away the any more intrusive thoughts and stabs of related guilt.

You watch her fight the beginnings of a smirk, "I could ask you the same question."

"Oh man, that's disgusting even for you B.B!" Cyborg grouses suddenly in the distance, and you’ve never felt so relieved for a distraction in your young life. Your friend is standing in front of the farthest food table when you look over, his hands on his hips and a frown of disapproval trained on something among the mass of dishes and delicious smelling cuisine. 

You find out why when you follow his line of sight, your body and gaze lifting a tad to seek out what’s happened—and you can’t say you’re all too surprised with this inevitable development.

Beast Boy is laying, dramatically draped, across the tray of donuts he’d been denied earlier, monkey toes wriggling to dispel powdered sugar from between them.

"Let me live my life, man." He jokes between fistfuls of sweet pastry. Cyborg makes a grab for him in retaliation and he jerks back out of reach as if fully expecting this outcome, throwing himself to the side in a graceful dodge.

"Halt! Oh please do watch out for the—"

In his flurry of movement—kicking out his legs for momentum and rolling head over feet to a neat stop a few feet further down the table—Beast Boy accidently whacks the side of another bowl near the edge, the dish teetering dangerously on the precipice of destruction.

But Starfire is always quick on her feet. She lunges for the bowl and makes the catch before it can fall victim to the laws of gravity (those you’re already painfully aware of), cradling it safely in her arms and sighing in relief as she cordially lifts it in your direction.

"Do not fear! I have saved the mac of the cheese!"

"Though it has its moments." Raven deadpans, flipping up her hood with a shake of her head.

"Speaking of moments…is this a good time for a dramatic entrance?"

Starfire whirls around unearthly fast at the familiar voice, the echo spiking through the low, near constant beat and rhythm drifting from the speakers of the boom box—none of you having heard a door open or close, or even a single footfall drop onto the roof.

"Robin! You have made it!"

Alright.

You know he’s practically a ninja (because it’s what he’s been dutifully trained to do), but you still think this deserves a hearty what the hell anyway.

How long has he even been standing there?

Though before you can reflect too deeply on the matter, you find yourself bearing witness to Robin’s handling of the fly-tackle hug. To his credit, he takes the sudden, colliding weight like a champ; a short laugh ripped from him at the initial breath-stealing thump, and he stumbles back to restore his balance without falling on his ass.

You can tell that he’s definitely a pro at this by now.

He gives her a generous, friendly squeeze before they part, turning his attention back to the rest of his team. It’s then you fully take in how he’s dressed; slim-fitting jeans, a dark blue tee, a solid, gray flannel shirt over top—unbuttoned and left hanging open, long sleeves rolled up at to his elbows—and red converse. 

His knee is still in a brace, a black watch with a stiff Kevlar strap fastened around his left wrist, its face square and rimmed with silver. And from your place you can even study the state of his dark hair—soft and without gel, but noticeably mussed like he’s been running his fingers through it all day.  

"There's our fearless leader!” You warmly call out, letting Raven ease you helpfully to your feet so that you can welcome your newly arrived team member. You lightly bump your cast against his shoulder once you reach him, and then again just to be annoying when he nudges your arm away the first time (but not without a fond roll of his eyes).

With less distance your gaze finds thin, pink marks left like badges on his skin, the stitches having already healed and dissolved from under his chin and across his collarbone, his blue eyes a little hazy in their focus. 

All in all, he looks tired up this close, in small ways you might overlook in passing—his grin beginning to wilt just at the upper corners of his lips, dropping eyelids and subtle bruising under his eyes, and the barest smudges of oil left neglected on his person; freckle-like specks across his jaw, staining the toes of his converse and the collar of his t-shirt (that particular one looking especially dark and ingrained into the fabric, like he’d hastily blotted at the spot in a rush and then gave up half-way through)—though you wouldn’t guess it from his posture. 

He’s all squared shoulders, a confident lift of his head and a soft, delighted glint in his eyes despite the heaviness you’d noticed before. He’s proud even in the face of exhaustion, so you elect not to bring any attention to it.

“I was beginning to think Batman whisked you off back home for some clown-punching and father-son bonding." You continue impishly, mimicking his mentor’s cowl by placing an index finger on either side of your head. You bounce them up and down in a tease.

"No, that was last month.” Robin reminds you dryly, pressing his lips together to keep from smiling. He jabs a thumb over his shoulder at the open elevator door he’d obviously emerged from. “I was actually just finishing up some final touches on an old friend of yours."

Huh. O…kay?

"Ominous." Cyborg offers before you can voice your own confusion, settling back against a food table with a deviously knowing smile.

Best Boy huffs with palpable disappointment instead, climbing swiftly onto the ledge behind his friend. He scuttles around a portion of the roof to sit beside the thumping boom box, while still taking time to throw out his own affirmation on the matter, before shifting back into his human form and swinging his dangling legs to the beat of the current song.

"Yeah, way creepy, dude."

Robin frowns, “I was being mysterious!”

Cyborg seems to be enjoying this immensely for some reason, leaning forward and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Well, don’t.”

“Damn. Don’t hold anything back.”

“Do not worry, Robin.” Starfire remarks with a pat to his shoulder, “I still find you the mysterious.”

You try to stifle your sputtering laughter as Robin sighs in defeat, reaching up to touch her hand in wordless thanks. He motions for you to stay where you are then, swiping his finger across the face of his watch. It lights up blue like a touch screen, and something large and humming (a machine?) darts from the inside of the elevator.  

The futuristic motorcycle that slides to a near-silent stop in front of you is like something right out of Tron. There’s a high leather seat and bullet-proof windshield among sleek, rounded black metal and glowing, magnetic green lights. They detail the length of the body like racing stripes, circling around the headlights and up into the shape of a triangle above them, as well as lining the inside rims of its large, treaded wheels (two in front and one in the back). The padded, silver handles poke through the front casing like devil horns.

It’s a familiar, wrenching image—one you could only dream of seeing again after the brutal attack on Jump City.

"Lucy!” You burst out instantly, and much to the Robin’s immense enjoyment, hopping forward in your excitement to reach your beloved cycle. You trace your fingers over the glowing triangle, pressing your palm to the leather seat with stinging, blurry eyes. It feels warm. Alive. “Oh my crap, you resurrected my bike!"

Cyborg gently pats the cycle with pride, "Rob and I spent weeks trying to fix her up. Finally got all the parts working again."

"You—this is—holy shit."

"Glad you like it."

Robin throws an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side, pretending not notice your muffled sniffling like a super-star best friend. "Happy birthday, (Y/N)." He mutters, loosening the fancy watch so he can clasp it around your unbroken wrist in a nimble flourish.

Cyborg pumps his fist in the air when you choke out a disbelieving laugh, victoriously striding to the centre of the roof to proclaim:  

"Well, what are we standing around here for? Let's get this thing started!"

“Oh yes, let us start the celebration my friends!”

“Eh, sure.”

"Party people!" Beast Boy cries out in agreement, finally leaping down from the ledge.

"Alright, Alright. You don't have to tell me twice." Robin chuckles, gesturing for the others to go ahead with the festivities. He stays to hover around you though, and is suspiciously quiet at first, simply stepping around you and your newly built cycle to pluck a can of soda from a food table. He idly brushes away condensation with a broad swipe of his thumb, waiting for the others to further disband around you both. 

When the coast is clear, evident by the way he glances from side to side, he turns towards you with his head down, popping the tab on the can and taking a heavy gulp. You raise a brow and wait, more than aware of his tendency by now to try and constantly torture you with the value of patience. He purses his lips in thought, before he finally meets your gaze with a playful twist to his usual smirk.

“So, hey.” He begins somewhat offhandedly, drumming his fingers across the surface of the table, “We should take a team picture at some point. All of us. Like a…memory of tonight’s occasion—if you want.”

You shouldn’t make it this easy for him—because he’ll never stop teasing you about how quickly you caved—but you find that you truly do like the idea. He just doesn’t need to know how much at the moment. So you settle on feigning tired reluctance, hoping (fooslishly) that he doesn’t see right through you.

“It wouldn’t hurt, I guess.”

“You guess?”

….

It’s really annoying when he does that.

You pout at the light amusement in his tone and follow his earlier path to the table, seizing a donut in a moment of pure impulse from the tray Beast Boy had previously vacated. You feel satisfied when you notice that it’s one of the unfortunate monkey feet ones, and then thrust it into Robin’s free hand. 

He must have been around long enough to see the offense for himself, because his nose crinkles in distaste when he registers what you’ve given him, letting the tainted pastry dangle from two fingers.

Sweet revenge.

You dole out smirk of your own.

“Eat your donut, dick.”

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

It’s well into the evening, sunset colours already fading calmly from the sky, when Robin parks himself next to you on the ledge of the roof, smoothly swinging his legs over and dropping to sit with a long sigh of relief. Huh…it seems like someone definitely had a longer day today than they let on.

And honestly? Mood.

You tap him with the rounded bottom of the crutch lying across your lap, throwing him a cursory glance and a smile in greeting. But he doesn’t respond the way you expect him to, no. Instead, you’re surprised to see that rare, relaxed grin of his already peeking through all of the obvious exhaustion.

"What are you smiling about, Grayson? You're creeping me out." You muse gently, brow arching at the amusement that grows all the more in the curl of his smile. It’s like he’s proudly uncovered some great secret in the time it took you to voice your thoughts, and is now going to make you work for a satisfying answer. Which, you have to admit, isn’t a very unusual outcome when it comes to your friend and his bat-crazy mentor.

Heh.

Gar would love that one.

"Oh, you know…nothing too important.” Robin counters with a non-committal shrug of his shoulder.

Uhhh, yeah, that’s not comforting in the slightest, you decide.

You narrow your eyes at him and poke at his upper arm accusingly, “You’re never really this terrible of a liar usually.”

“Well, usually isn’t now.”

You pause to let his utter nonsense sink in.

“Are all detectives this uselessly cryptic or is this just a you thing?”

“I think it’s a family thing actually.”

“That I believe.” You laugh, gripping tight to the edge of the concrete ledge with one hand as you lean forward to admire the twinkling darkness of the water far below—a beautiful, convoluted gloom in the beginnings of silver moonlight. You catch his lingering stare in your peripheral when you shift, an odd amount of softness there you’re not exactly used to seeing directed your way.

“What?” You ask again in exasperation (and maybe a tad more overly sharp than you wanted). He only winks when you turn to get a better read on him, and looking much too smug and unconcerned, tips his head back to study the distant, firefly-like pinpricks of light just now glittering through the encroaching dark above you.

There’s a blissful beat of silence between the continuously wafting smells (of heavy spices and cheese and the lingering sweetness of fancy chocolate) and the nearby ambient sounds of your friends locked in an intense game of Jenga (their laughter and conversation—Raven is definitely on a roll by the sounds of it—the clinking of cutlery and plates, and the low, near-constant pop music blanketed beneath it all), and then—

“Welcome home.” He says quietly.

You stare at him a moment longer; hesitant, flustered, warm—like some kind of utter punch-drunk goober—until your gaze slips mercifully back to the sky, drawn in by the trembling might of the stars far out of reach.

And you let the moment sit within the unexpected, peaceful calm his voice brings, unbroken without a sarcastic quip or cynical remark, just this once. A moment to find value in.

Because this is your family, or….what you’d always imagined one to be.

So, even though you’d never truly been privy to a lot of happiness before this—this tiny, momentous moment right where you need to be; sitting on the roof ledge of your home—you find your own sense of peace in thinking that here and now, if there ever was a happy place in this life for you—

This is it.  

#teen titans #teen titans imagines #teen titans x reader #dc comics #dc comics imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson imagines #robin x reader #dick grayson #starfire x reader #starfire imagines #koriand'r #starfire #raven x reader #raven imagines #raven #beast boy x reader #beast boy imagines #beast boy #garfield logan #rachel roth #cyborg x reader #cyborg imagines #cyborg #victor stone #x reader #imagines #x you

[my-emotional-self]

Mistaken Revenge Part 2/5 (Chris Evans x Reader)

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Breakups, Sexual Tension

Summary: Your boyfriend broke up with you the same time Chris’ girlfriend broke up with him.  You were acquaintances with him through Scott and one night, Chris got a revenge idea.  The two of you pretend to date to get back at your exes.  Before long, feelings develop right around the time your exes want you back.

Requested  By: @missecharlotte

“So” he broke the silence, placing his hands in his pockets.  “I have an idea I want to run by you.”  Your eyebrows quirked up at his words, wanting to know what he had in mind.

His hand came up to cup your cheek and you melted into his touch.  Chris’ hand was warm and inviting as you tilted your head into it. Glancing up through your lashes, you saw the desire in his eyes.  He leaned down as you slanted your head backwards.  His lips connected with yours as your eyes shut; hoping that this wouldn’t end soon.  His lips were warm, smooth and damn was he a good kisser.  

Chris pulled away too soon for your comfort as you pouted.  He chuckled at your reaction, shaking his head.  “Are you up for a little revenge?”

Your head cocked to the side, wondering what he meant.  “How so?” came your subtle reply.

“I was thinking….since we were both in very committed relationships when we first met, and now we are both heartbroken and pissed about what happened…” he trailed off as your interest piqued.  “What if you and I pretend to date and we end up coincidentally at the same parties of our exes, making them jealous?”

You took a second to think about it.  Sure, it sounded like a good idea.  You wanted to get some revenge against Brad seeing as he broke your heart out of nowhere. Things were good between the two of you. There were no problems in your relationship at all and he just up and ended it out of nowhere.  And from what you learned from Chris that night, it seemed like he was in the same predicament.  

“So, revenge against our exes huh?” you questioned.  

“Exactly.”

“No strings attached?”

“None.”

“And what was that kiss supposed to mean?” you inquired with a quirked brow.  

He hesitated for a minute; thinking about what to say.  “Well, I mean, I guess if things get physical, that’s not a bad thing right?”

You chuckled at his reaction.  To be honest, having sex with Chris or getting any kind of physical intimacy with someone like him wasn’t a bad thing.  Shrugging, you replied, “I’m in!”

“Great!  How about I get your number then?”

The two of you exchanged phone numbers before he headed off for the night.   As you made your way into your apartment, you paused to think about the situation for a minute.  You weren’t a clingy person, but you did get attached emotionally.  You wondered if this was a good idea, or if your drunk self just agreed to it because it was Chris Evans after all.  

Letting out a sigh, you undressed yourself as you made your way to your bathroom; drawing up a bath before putting in your favorite bath balm.  You sunk into the tub; your muscles relaxing at the warmth of the water. Your phone beeped as you reached over for it.  

Chris: I hope I didn’t scare you off with my offer tonight. I had a really great time catching up with you

You grinned at his text as you shook your head.  

Y/N: You didn’t scare me off.  I agreed to it after all.  And it was great to see you tonight.  I had a really wonderful time!

~~~

The next week was pretty uneventful.  It was all work and no play which put you in a foul mood.  Plus, you hadn’t had sex in nearly a month and it was really starting to take its toll on you.  Your rabbit just wasn’t doing it for you lately; you needed the real touch of a man.

One night you found yourself stalking your ex-boyfriends facebook; that’s right, stalking him. You couldn’t help but creep on his profile to see what he was up to.  Neither of you deleted each other as a friend so you had full access to whatever he posted.  You perked up when you saw he was attending a party at a club in the upcoming weekend.

Chewing on your lower lip, you decided to give Chris a text.

Y/N: So it looks like Brad is going to a party this weekend. Are you up for a little revenge?

You nervously waited for his reply.  The both of you were drinking a lot the last time you saw each other and you didn’t know if it was just the alcohol talking when he asked you about his offer. Before long, you heard the beep of your phone going off.  

Chris: Hell yes I’m down!

~~~

The next Sunday you found yourself standing in your closet, trying to figure out what to wear.  You wanted to make Brad jealous and to also make Chris never want to take his eyes off you.  Since it was summer, you decided on a black mini skirt paired with a sparkling black tank top.  Hey, it was a club after all.  You picked out a pair of black boots to go with your outfit as you put on some jewelry.

Your doorbell rang as you grabbed your purse and opened the door.  Chris stood on the other side; his hands in his pockets as his mouth dropped open. His eyes scanned up and down your body before landing on your eyes.  “Wow” he breathed out.  “You look incredible Y/N.”

You glanced down, blushing at his compliment before going into the hallway; shutting and locking your door.  “Ready?” you asked as your door was fully locked.  

“After you” he replied as you walked ahead of him.  You made sure to sway your hips a bit, knowing he was an ass man.  

The two of you made it to the club in no time; bypassing security all because of Chris of course. Making your way inside, you headed to the bar to grab a few beers.  As you scanned the crowd, your eyes landed on Brad as he was talking with some blonde chic who had her hands all over him.  Scowling at his direction, you took a swig of your beer.  

“Are you ready for some revenge jealousy?” Chris rasped in your ear making your body quiver. Looking up at him, you gave him a broad smirk.  

“Fuck yes!” you exclaimed as you quickly downed your beer, gripping his hand and pulling him to the dance floor.  

The music was blaring as you felt the base in vibrate your bones.  Chris was behind you as you swayed your hips into his crotch. Without a doubt, you felt him harden behind you and you grinned.  His hands gripped your hips as you swayed them back and forth to the beat of the music. Looking up, Brad had seen the two of you; a frown on his face as he watched you enjoy dancing with Chris.  

You turned around to face Chris as you gripped the back of his shirt.  “Brad’s watching us” you spoke loudly over the bass of the music. Chris’ eyes twitched as his hand roamed your back, slowly going lower to cup you ass cheeks.  Your body ignited with warmth as he pulled you closer to him.

“Then lets give him a show, shall we?” he husked out.  He leaned down, joining your lips with his in a heated kiss.  Your hands wrapped around his neck to pull him closer to you. Tilting your head, you deepened the kiss as you felt his tongue swipe over your lower lip.  Opening your mouth, your tongues met in a passionate way.  You moaned into his mouth but the noise was drowned out by the music of the club.  

Chris’ hand came up to cup your cheek; fire burning with desire throughout your body.  You wanted to claim Chris for everything he had; to take him back to your apartment and ride his cock, but you weren’t sure if he was up for it.  For the time being, you were glad to make out with him in front of Brad, hoping to make him jealous from your ministrations with Chris.  

The both of you struggled to breathe as you each pulled away; Chris’ eyes seemed much more dark than his usual bright blue ones.  Desire pooled in your belly as you felt your face become tinged with pink.  Nibbling your lip, you tore your gaze from him to look for Brad.  It didn’t take long as you found Brad staring back at you; his eyes narrowed as his fist was clenching.  

“I think it worked” you giggled to Chris, motioning for him to turn towards Brad. You noticed Chris’ eyes widen, his lips parting as a small smirk grew on his face.  Turning back to face Brad, you saw him marching over towards you with a sinister look on his face.  

Tag List: @patzammit @missfirstavenger @wildestdreamsrps @miss-cap21 @pumbibaby @potterhead1265 @kanupps06 @zohoffman @the-real-kellymonster @remember-that-one-blog @princess-evans-addict @mustbenot @srgntjbarnes @marvelmakeuplover @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @projectxhappiness @libbitinasdeath @01asianista @hispeculiartreasure @guera31 @ssweet-empowerment @createdbytinyaddiction @mwesterfeld1985 @abbiestyles18xo

#Mistaken Revenge #Chris Evans Fanfic #Chris Evans Fanfiction #Chris Evans x Reader #Chris Evans Request #Chris Evans Imagine #Chris Evans Series #Chris Evans #Chris Evans Smut #Eventual Smut #There Will Be Smut #I Promise You That

[lucianhuntress]

Could I request chocobros reaction to their small and cute s/o making them to go to the concert of her favourite band and it turns out to be alternative/hardcore rock band 😁 actually I'm really small and cute so people are often shocked when I show them my music taste (Get Scared, Nothing But Thieves, the Neighbourhood and System of a down are my favourites 😅) so it would make my day ❤

Oh, a request!

I have never done requests, so I really, really, really do hope this is good enough! I’m not a small not sure about cute either person, so I thank @bleucommelhiver for giving me some ideas. :3

Also, I loved changing the band names just enough to fit the FFXV world. Because I love doing that, just for the giggles. 

I did my best! Apologies if this isn’t something you expected! *bows and ninja-vanishes into thin air*

Warnings: None? SFW?

Scenario: A Surprising Rock Concert

Noctis

Whenyou asked Noctis to go to a concert with you, he hesitated for amoment. He would have rather lied in his bed with you all day,listening to your favourite songs from his stereo — maybe evensharing a kiss or two, but the cute and begging face you pulled athim made his heart melt instantly.

Obviouslyhe thought that you two would go to an EDM concert, after all youboth had listened to the music back at his apartment and you hadn’tcomplained at all, despite you being a fan of a bit more differentgenre. But as you saw your favourite band coming into town, it wasjust too hard to resist.

Noctiswas ultimately surprised, when he saw the tickets you had booked.

“Systemof a Phoenix Down?” he hadnot expected someone like you to listen a band like that. You seemedso innocent in his eyes to listen something so…hardcore.

“Ihope that’s okay,” you beamed at him, sending his heart flutterand made his cheeks burn mildly.

“Uh,sure it’s just that—” he found himself at a loss for words whenit started.

Hequickly found himself enjoying the music. It was different from whathe usually listened to, but seeing you enjoy the concert as youbounced in the rhythm of the furiously played tune he couldn’t stophimself from joining in on the fun too.

Someone— much taller than you— bumped into you, causing you to almost trip, but Noctis was quickwith his reactions and he stopped you from falling by embracing youinto a tight hug.

“Youowe me one now,” he husked, after parting from the hug just enoughto get a look of your face. Noctis give annoyed side-eyes to the tallperson, who hadn’t obviously noticed you. He still held you tightlyand you batted your lashes curiously at him.

Noctis’sirked expression softened as he saw the confused look on your face,“you owe me a kiss now, how about it?”

Prompto

Promptowas so hyped to go to a concert with you. He even forgot to ask whichband it was you were going to see, while he was engulfed by hisexcitement. And he even had his camera prepared for the event eversince you two made plans for the ‘date.’

Inthe back of his thrilled mind he thought that you were going to seeOne Chocobo,because the band was quite popular and topped the charts with theirattractive love songs. Prompto wouldn’t complain —  what matteredthe most was to have good time with you.

Andoh how the reality hit him hard once you arrived at the concertplace. The place was filled with people wearing so dark and gloomyclothes that it made him shudder. “A-are you sure t-this is theplace?” he stammered, while squeezing your hand. He couldn’tpossibly let you disappear into the masses.

“We’llbe fine! Come!” you encouraged him with a heart-warming wink and hesighed, but complied. After all, who would say no to that sweet lookthat pulled your lips into an inviting smile. You pulled him with youcloser to the stage. Zigzagging through the fans was easy — thanksto your smallness.

However,you never noticed how his hand slipped from yours and Prompto foundhimself lost in the middle of a dozen of scary looking GetPetrified-fans.

Themusic started playing and Prompto felt like his heart was going tojump out of his chest. He couldn’t find you and the people aroundhim started fisting the air and bouncing along the beat. Promptodesperately tried to peer around for you, only to feel a gentle tapon his shoulders.

Heturned around and saw you flashing him an apologetic smile, “I’msorry Prom!” you had to shout for him to be able to hear you overthe music. He looked confused and his eyes were a little bit teary.

“Justdon’t disappear like that,” he mumbled shyly, his cheeks turningrosy pink. His gaze darted on and off you and he bit his lipnervously.

“What?”you had to shout again, as you couldn’t hear his sad mumbles.

Henever answered, as he just pulled you into a hug and buried his faceinto your hair — feeling relaxed again.

Gladiolus

Youpiqued his curiosity, when you showed him the tickets to theCitadel’s concert. He wouldhave guessed that your music taste was just a bit different from hisand was genuinely surprised that you, out of all people, would sharethe taste with him.

Whenit was time for the concert, you found yourself pouting — becauseall the other fans were so tall and you couldn’t possibly get agood view of the band.

“What’swrong, babe?” Gladio asked softly as he saw the tears forming atthe corners of your eyes. You had been waiting to see them for solong… only for the taller people to block your view.

“N-nothing,”you answered meekly, your shoulders slumping from disappointment.

However,it never passed Gladio’s eyes to see someone he cared deeply about,to look so heartbroken all the sudden. He could only guess what wasbothering you so badly.

Withouta word he scooped you up with his arms, and lifted you on top of hisshoulders and you let out a surprised squeal. You could hear and feelthe chuckle he made, making his body vibrate slightly. “Betternow?” he asked and glanced up at you with an amused smirk.

“U-uh!Y-es!” you huffed, while your heart was still pounding madly fromthe surprise.

“Okay,now pull that cute smile back and enjoy,” Gladio winked and gentlypatted your leg.

Andso, he carried you around for the whole evening, while theCitadel pulled the best gigever.

Ignis

Afteryou had told him that there was a band in town, that you had alwayswanted to see, Ignis almost instantly assumed it to be one of thoseboy bands — or maybe a twerking pop artist that was gainingattention with delicious gossips.

“Alright,I shall come with you. Someone should make sure you’re safeanyway,” Ignis volunteered to keep you some company for theevening, despite that neither of his assumptions wasn’t somethinghe enjoyed.

Ignishad never been so surprised as he was, when you two walked into theconcert place.

Heblinked his eyes and clenched his jaws. NothingBut Tonberries was going toplay that day and he had never heard of the band. Ignis had no ideawhat to expect and as you dragged him towards the stage, his worrygrew deeper at every step.

Peoplewere dressed up for a rockconcert.

Ignisswallowed.

“Everythingokay?” you bit your lip as you saw his cheeks turn pale.

“Myapologies, but what kind of music this… NothingBut Tonberries play?” hequestioned, while his eyes scouted the area. People seemed to havegood time already, but still he pulled you a bit closer to his body.Just incase something might happen.

“It’srock,” you chimed cheerfully at him and you could hear the tinygasp escaping his lips. You furrowed your brows as his lips pursedeven tighter. “What? Did you expect that this was OneChocobo concert?”

“Whywould I…” he breathed and caught you giving him a cute butmischievous grin, that sparkled your eyes in the dim lighting. “Ishould’ve done a better research on the concerts in town,” hebroke into a sorry smile, his cheeks flushing mildly red.

“It’sfine Iggy,” you giggled and jumped up to give a peck on his cheek,making him even more flustered, “we can go to a concert you likethe next time.”

#aa--leksandra #asks #request #ffxv fanfiction #ffxv imagines #ffxv scenarios #noctis x reader #prompto x reader #gladio x reader #ignis x reader #ffxv reader insert #going to a concert like #not nervous rn #i hope you like this #i did my best #ffxv #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15

[kurogabae]

i’m on an angst kick and memory loss!AU calls to me like no other

“Oh! Miss Caldina was right!” Sakura cried in delight, pulling Syaoran along with her. “The city skyline is beautiful at night!”

There was no arguing it. The shimmering lights of the modern city were breathtaking from their vantage point at some tourist sightseeing cliff face. They were a few miles out and had a great view of the impossibly tall buildings and all their dancing lights, like stars stolen from right out of the sky. Since losing his memories, Kurogane had been to many cities like this one, but he’d never seen any the way they were seeing this one now. He found himself hoping he wouldn’t have to forget this one day as well. 

Hanging back, he watched Syaoran, Sakura, and Mokona lean on the safety railing, gazing out at the skyline in awe. Sakura and Syaoran’s fingers were comfortably intertwined with each other and upon noticing Kurogane felt that inexplicable, powerful pang of satisfaction, like one would feel after a hard job well done. He knew that the two kids -- young adults really, old enough to think about settling down by his wager -- had had to fight tooth and nail for the happiness they enjoyed now, and Kurogane was sure he had played some part in all of that, but he couldn’t imagine it would have been enough to warrant such a reaction.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Fai said beside him. “Seeing them so happy. You don’t remember, but I know you love them and want them happy all the same,” he added with a sly smile. 

Kurogane didn’t see anything to deny about what Fai had said. “How does it make you feel?”

Fai shrugged. “I don’t think I’ll ever have words for it,” he admitted, and Kurogane could understand the feeling. “Some days I still wake up and think this might have all been a dream.”

Even now, months after waking to the unfamiliar faces of people who claimed to love him, he still knew next to nothing about Fai, where he had come from before joining their small, traveling family, or who he’d been to all over them in their early days of travel. He knew there was a lot of pain hiding in the past, especially where Fai was concerned, but Kurogane wanted to know, even if he’d never really remember.

“Don’t suppose you’re ever going to tell me why you feel that way,” Kurogane said, trying to make it sound offhanded. 

The smile Fai gave him was sad but honest. “You don’t want to know those things,” he said. “They only hurt, and they’re behind us.”

“You told me before, didn’t you?” he pressed, latching on to Fai’s train of thought. He didn’t know why it was so important to him that he know Fai’s past as well as their shared past. Kurogane was not a man that cared about where people came from, it was more important where they were going, but it just wouldn’t stop niggling him. “Why won’t you tell me now?”

Something painful came over Fai’s face and for a moment his eyes for focused somewhere far away from Kurogane. “I never told you,” he finally admitted. “You were shown by someone else.”

The flatness of Fai’s voice was enough to have Kurogane drop the subject. It wasn’t that important.

-- 

Kurogane’s nightmares were things of smoke and fire, the air was always filled with screams and ash and he could feel himself burning away inside and out. Everything would be red and he would be calling names, looking for familiar faces, praying that when he met their eyes they were still looking back at him.

He had never had a nightmare about snow before, where the silence was more deafening than anything he’d heard from a demon. There was no red -- fire or blood or evil eyes glowing through the smoke and shadow. In fact, there was no color at all. Grey was all there was, shades of it. This nightmare was different than all the others, except for one thing.

He was still burning.

It was cold, though. The burn was not fever or flames, but ice creeping into emptiness. It was a sense of complete hopelessness overwhelming him, burning away everything that he was until all that was left was a husk of a person. It was terrifying. He tried to scream, to call for help, but he had no strength, he could only lay there in the snow and let the grey surround him and swallow him and erase him.

He couldn’t give up, but he couldn’t fight. He needed help, he needed to help...

... to help... someone... some...one...

Kurogane felt the scream more than heard it as he jerked awake. When he opened his eyes the suffocating world of his nightmare was gone and it was replaced by blue. 

“Fai.”

“Yeah, it’s me, Kuro-sama,” Fai said. He looked worried, bordering terrified really. He was gripping Kurogane’s arms tightly and was all but sitting in his lap, both of them tangled in Kurogane’s bed sheets as if there had been a struggle.

Slowly, it dawned on him that Fai must have been trying to wake him up. “What was I-”

“You were calling my name,” Fai said. That look was back again, the one that was sad because of something Kurogane didn’t remember. It didn’t make him as angry as it used to, but Kurogane knew it would always hurt to see. Fai loosened his grip on Kurogane’s arms. It was still dark outside and Kurogane hoped he hadn’t woken the children with his ridiculous screaming. “What were you dreaming about?”

Sighing, he sat up more and didn’t shoo Fai off his lap, taking comfort from the warm weight of his friend. “I don’t know,” he said truthfully. “It was jumbled. Everything was cold and covered in snow, and I was alone and trapped even though there weren’t any chains I-- I knew I was trapped.”

The harder he thought about the dream the more he could remember about it. It was the first time in months memories were coming back to him when he chased after them, so he didn’t let up. In his lap, Fai was silent.

“It was a punishment,” he continued slowly, the worlds coming as realizations. It was like a memory that wasn’t his emerging from the haze that constantly clouded swaths of his mind. “A punishment for something we hadn’t even done.”

He paused when he realized there had been a second person there. In the tower, so far away and just as alone. There had been other people too. “There were corpses. People who had been killed, thrown in as punishment as well.”

Suddenly, flashes of it all came rushing at Kurogane. Two young boys, innocent and frightened and helpless. Unfairness and blame, bodies raining from the sky. A dark man who spokes twisted words of half truths and lies. The need for help. The need to help... the one he had needed to help in the dream, the one in the tower. The reason he had been calling for Fai.

“You’re not Fai,” Kurogane said, his voice disturbingly plain for the realization. “That isn’t your name.”

Chancing a look up he saw unshed tears shimmering in blue eyes. 

“You never met him,” he said. “My brother died when we were still young.”

Kurogane reached out a hand, slowly, as if he were reaching out to a wounded animal, and wiped away the tears with no small amount of reverence. “I know.”

Fai had stayed the rest of the night with him, neither of them had gotten any more sleep, but they hadn’t spoken any more either. Memories continued to accost Kurogane throughout the night and by morning his head was pounding and his mood was foul. When Mokona summoned Watanuki he let Fai do all the talking.

“Why does he remember those things?” Fai hissed. Perhaps they should have left this to the kids. “Of all the slip ups you could have made, you had to leave him with my scars?”

For his part, Watanuki did look wholly apologetic, possibly even a bit heartbroken, but Kurogane had a hard time feeling charitable at the moment. He was with Fai on this. If he was going to remember something from his past travels why this? Why not something kinder? Or at least more useful?

“They aren’t his memories,” Watanuki said after Sakura had ushered Fai to the side. “They’re yours, Fai-san, and so they were not his to give as payment. They will remain with him.”

There was not much to be said after that. Watanuki exchanged a few words with Syaoran and Sakura before Mokona disconnected and all eyes were on Kurogane and Fai, but the two adults were already retreating and none of them were surprised.

The morning sunlight shining through Kurogane’s bedroom window betrayed the mood surround he and Fai. He didn’t want to talk about this, but he wanted these memories hanging between them even less. 

“You intended to kill me,” he said without preamble. 

“We all see how good a job I did with that,” Fai said and Kurogane almost laughed. From would-be assassin to would-be husband. It was a bit funny. Or it would be in a few days after he had some time to let all of this new information settle into his world view. 

He could tell, knew it in his gut, that Fai had never actually made an attempt at his life. Kurogane knew it like he knew his own name. Fai had been right the other night, though. He hadn’t wanted to know any of those things. The pain of Fai’s memories had begun filling in the empty spaces left by Kurogane’s missing ones. It ached and raged in his chest, made all the worse by the knowledge that he was separated by those responsible by so many years and worlds. The only comfort he had in this was the knowledge that everyone person who had hurt Fai was now dead.

Kurogane had more questions, but he wasn’t sure if either of them were able to handle the answers without breaking after the morning they had just had. No for the first time, and certainly not for the last, Kurogane cursed the fates. 

“Well,” Fai finally said. “Know you know everything.”

He’d been wrong. He wasn’t able to handle anything more right now without breaking. Unfortunate. 

“What the hell do you mean?” he snapped, rounding on Fai in an instant. “I don’t know anything!”

Fai stared up at him with a mix of disbelief and frustration and opened his mouth to speak, but Kurogane wasn’t finished. 

“All I know is how you’ve suffered,” he said, voice low and rumbling with fury. “I don’t know anything of your life, of our life.” He saw the understanding slowly dawning on Fai’s face as he spoke. “You speak of how this all feels like a dream sometimes, but you never tell me why. You’ve told me you love me, but you won’t tell me why.”

He wanted to understand Fai, but in hiding his pain so steadfastly he’d hidden everything from Kurogane. How was he supposed to find the man he had once loved if Fai kept him hidden all the time...

#KuroFai #TRC #SyaoSaku #spoilersTRC #my fics #memory loss!AU #kurogane just wants to remember loving fai but fai is a difficult and stupid man