#“My little sword fiend”

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 107

"Darling" and "Dear" can be written away as him being gay, a bard, and british From Lettenhove, Geralt assures himself one late night, early into traveling with Jaskier. "Dearest" and "Dearheart" make sense. Geralt muses one late night, after a few years of traveling with Jaskier. Jaskier has said before that Geralt's his best friend, they travel together constantly, nearly all of Jaskier's songs are about him, it makes sense to mean this much. "Sweeting" "Honey" "Sweetheart" are confusing, and Geralt doesn't understand. It's been more years with Jaskier, and more and more names keep appearing, but these ones do nothing but confuse and vex him. Those are usually used for romantic partners, aren't they? Does Jaskier mean them in a teasing manner? "My love" Jaskier calls him this one night, and Geralt.... Geralt panics. He mumbles something stupid and practically books it into the woods to think. He worries for how it'd appear to poor Jaskier, but he can't help but need a few minutes to process it. Love? My love? Does Jaskier really see him so fondly?

If Geralt marches back there and snogs the life out of him, is it too soon?

[bi-writes]

an eye for an eye | knight!ghost x f!reader

your husband bends to your will. men must learn from difficult lessons how far that bending goes.

type: a continuation of a hand for a hand, but can be read stand-alone (11.6k)

cw: 1600s au, dark!ghost, reader described as curvier/plus-sized, graphic depictions of war + violence, possessive!ghost, war-criminal!ghost, inaccurate historical settings probably, unprotected piv, cumplay, breeding kink, size kink, simon "i'd do anything for my wife no matter the devasting consequences" riley (18+)

Your husband has an insatiable appetite. Such a big man he is; he towers over you, so much so that you must tip your head back always to look up at him. You had to make many arrangements in your house to accommodate his hunger–a pantry stocked full of eggs and less fabric for your skirts.

Your house isn’t like others. Neither you nor Ghost have ever lived in luxury. When he showed you your home for the first time, you had shaken your head–you didn’t believe that such a large place was supposed to be yours, and even now, sometimes you feel like a stranger, out of place when the maids ask you what you want for supper or where you’d like to take your afternoon tea. You don’t like the fuss, the asking, the women that curtsy when you come near, concentrated over the creases in your skirts or the loose thread of your sleeve or the wispy hairs that fall out of your braids. You are told all the time that you must behave like a duchess, that you must poise yourself with your new title and your new money, and you must do the things that duchesses do–but no one says the same to your husband.

He is still allowed to sleep in the barracks. Lick the blood off his gauntlets. Polish his sword in the dirt. He’s still allowed to be everything that you cannot be anymore, he still lives the life he had before.

He still kills; and he is still very, very good at it.

Your queen told you in a letter that the king is very pleased. Ever since your union, Ghost has been quite the conqueror. Bloodthirsty and very determined, your husband has been taking his men across the water. He is not any less impressive off land. Not even the pirates have tried to negotiate; they bend the knee or taste the salt water. You breathe shakily when you read your queen’s letters—her praise for your husband’s conquests, how blessed your family will be and how valuable you are to the crown, how grateful she is that Ghost is no longer a fiend in court but rather a little more polite and a little quieter.

All for your sake. Ghost’s name is now your own, and he refuses to embarrass you now that you have it.

You won’t lie; the bodies that Ghost has stacked since you’ve been wed do not scare you. He’s doing it for you. He has never said it out loud, never told you so, but you know it. He wants to show you what kind man that he is, what kind of soldier—you know he’s trying to prove himself worthy. If he killed a thousand men to have you, how many will he slaughter to keep you?

He sends you letters of his own. Not many, but he does send letters, and while Ghost seems to be ineloquent and entirely too brutish, he has quite the voice when he writes.

To my wife,

The sun falls quicker here. I’d like to come home. Tell me of your day, and I will tell you of mine. There were a fleet of ships that came to meet us at dawn. When we sank three, they begged for us to spare the rest.

I have you to think about now. So I burned them.

Simon

A poet, your beloved.

He signs his real name in his letters. Your eyes skim over most of it–you don’t even blink when he tells you what he does to them. Sometimes he writes in great detail about the screams of a hundred souls, the way burning flesh smells, the taste of dirt in a new place when you know it is finally yours. He doesn’t like having secrets. He tells you all his thoughts, even if they might scare you, because you are his wife, and he has discovered quite quickly that you have been cut from the same cloth.

Even when he is home, and he tells you these things all over again, he can’t help the way his cock hardens when you merely blink and ask him if he has added any scars to his collection.

Ravenous, naughty little duchess, and you are all his. He knows he picked well–he knows, he knows he wasn’t wrong when he saw you across the throne room hiding behind his queen, he knows now that he was right about what he saw in your eyes.

You do hate when he’s away. You’re not used to the maids helping you dress, and you secretly abhor the help. That is why when you hear the shuffle of your house early in the morning, your heart thuds in your chest knowing he’s home.

The staff get antsy when Simon is around. He is very good at keeping an estate for someone that has never had to or ever been taught to, but he leaves the responsibilities with you and only you every time he goes. He doesn’t trust anyone else to do it, and every time he comes back, he makes you sit on one big thigh as he teaches you something new that you need to remember for when he goes away. He demands much of those he employs, and they are eager to please him. Whether it is because they respect him or are afraid of him, you aren’t sure.

Perhaps it’s both.

You sit up as the bedroom door opens. You smile, big and wide and sleepy as he steps into the room. He shuts the door with his boot, slipping his hood off, and you sigh as he grips the clasp of his mask and unhooks it. He tosses it onto the floor, bare-faced, and as he makes his way towards the bed, he sheds the rest of his clothes until he’s completely naked.

You cannot stop yourself from the shaky breath you take. He is all muscle and fat, strong and entirely too scary, but it’s hard to focus on what he really is when he stands before you like this. He has fat thighs, big shoulders, carved muscle of intense labor around his middle and along his biceps. He has large hands with calloused palms and split knuckles, and your eyes meet his own as he comes closer. He’s so gorgeous, even with a face like that. He has a long scar that stretches from one brow to his lower jaw, another that cuts his nose and splits his lip, but those eyes are dark and lovely, and you can’t help the warmth that comes over you when he catches you staring at him, closer, right to his cock that hangs heavy between his legs.

Just as he begins to lower himself onto the bed, you hold out a hand, giggling.

“Simon, if you think you are getting into this bed without a proper bath, you’re mistaken!” You laugh, and he raises a brow.

“Mmm…” He smacks his lips together. “Tha’ right, my lady?” He clicks his tongue. “This is my bed. ’s oll mine. Every blanket…every pillow…” He grips your ankle from under the covers and yanks you towards him. “And every part of you.”

You giggle again, shaking your head, “Please, Simon!” You push him away with your toes. “They only changed the sheets yesterday. You’ll dirty them…” You flutter your lashes. “Will you bathe if I join you?”

He grins wide, licking over his teeth.

“Can’t refuse an offer like tha’.”

You hold out your hand for him, and he takes it gently. You watch as he brings your knuckles towards his mouth, and you bite back a smile when he decides to kiss each one, slow. He tugs finally, pulling you up, and you wrap your arms around his neck as he hoists you up into his arms. You would worry about your weight normally, but Simon holds you so easily, barely even a grunt as he wraps your legs around his middle. You don’t waste another second, cupping his cheeks in your hands and kissing him softly.

It’s never just a kiss with Simon. He slides one of his hands up your back, into your hair, and you whine as he tips your head back just enough to slip his tongue into your mouth. Simon doesn’t just kiss, he consumes. What he did to get back to you, the things he endured, the places he has seen and the bodies he has buried and burned and scattered across the places he now calls country, it’s always to get back to this place.

To you.

“How’s my boy?” He asks when you pull away. He carries you to another room, to where the tub sits, and he rings a bell by the door to call the maids in. You snatch a robe off a hook and cover him with it as he sits with you, but all he does is put a few fingers under your chin and make you look at him again. “Oi. Asked ya question, luv.”

Your lip wobbles a little, and you look away.

“I…”  You wait until the maids have gone to fetch hot water to tell him. “I bled while you were gone. I…”  You smooth your hands over the robe, distracting yourself. “I’m…I’m sorry, Simon.”

You close your eyes as he leans close, resting his forehead against yours, and you shake a little as he lets out a warm breath against your lips. He moves a warm hand over your soft stomach, cupping you there, and you lean your head back a little at the tender touch.

“It will happen,” he says finally, and your mouth opens to respond, but he sticks his thumb between your lips to shut you up. He doesn’t want to hear you blame yourself. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s his, for not being here with you, for not be able to take care of you. You give in, suckling on the salt of him, and he grits his teeth as he watches you. “I know. Seen it in m’dreams.”

Simon has dreams. Lots of dreams, but he tells you that they are not dreams, they are glimpses into something that has already happened. When you asked if he was some kind of seer, the kind that the king used to have at parties, Simon doesn’t laugh.

He says the dreams are why he knows he won’t die. Why he is never afraid, because he knows somewhere behind his eyes what’s to come even if he didn’t see the entire painting of it. It is why he knew he would marry you; it is why he paid you so much attention, why he knew he would win his battles, why he always knows whose blood it is in his mouth because he has tasted their death before and relishes in the knowing of it all, in the certainty.

It’s never I think, it is always I know, and Simon is nothing if he is not the most honest man that you know.

So if he says you will have his babe, it is as good as truth. As green as the grass grows beneath his feet, as blue as his sky, and as red as the blood that is caked underneath his nails.

When the tub is filled with water, you let Simon sink into it first. You kneel beside it, picking up a glass of oil, pouring it into your palms before sinking your hands into his hair. It’s gotten longer since he left, in need of a cut, but you smile when he leans his head back into your shoulder. You can feel his content as he relaxes into you, and you admire his physique as you use the warm water and scrub the mud and grime off of him.

“I missed you, husband,” you whisper, and he only lets you massage his hair for a few more moments before he grips you by the wrist and tugs you forward, right into the bath. “Simon!” you laugh, “my night dress—oh!—it’s ruined!”

“Too far away,” he mutters, practically ripping the silk off of you as he tosses it besides the bath. “Mmm…” He cups your breasts with two big hands, smoothing his thumbs over your nipples, and you whine a little as he pulls at them just enough to make them stiffen. “Y’should be naked when I come home,” he says lowly. “I’ll soil y’r bloody gown next time, m’lady.”

You giggle, and he smiles. A real smile. As real as he’ll ever give anyone, maybe the only one that anyone has ever even seen. He has never shown his face in court, and while it angers the women and irks the men, you revel in the fact that all of this is only for you.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You kiss him softly. The water sloshes, warm and inviting, and sometimes you forget your life used to be anything but joy. A year ago, you would not believe that you would be here, titled, wealthy, in a stone room lit by candles bathing with a blood hungry ghost.

A year ago, you trembled whenever he looked at you. You cowered when you heard his footsteps. What a stupid little girl you had been. What a fool. She had no idea what she could have, the kinds of things she could hold in her hand.

Real power wasn’t being able to command a room with your words. Real power was being able to say anything and have it be believed as truth. Real power was making someone look in one direction and have them see what you see, even if what you see isn’t real.

He lays you down in your bed afterward and eats. Your wet hair soaks the sheets, but you can’t seem to be really bothered as he fits your legs over his shoulders and bends you at the waist, his mouth suctioned to your clit as he eats you slowly. One of his hands is spread out over your tummy, the other you can hear making a squelch as he fists his own cock. It’s slow and methodical, and he slides his tongue between your folds firm, catching what dribbles from you on the tip of his tongue before he swallows it and leans in for more.

He has eaten you in nearly every room in your house. Frightened the cooks tossing you onto the dining table, given a servant a scare as he ducked under your skirts in the library, had the gardeners fleeing as he dropped you onto the grass near the lake and disappeared with a frenzy to eat your cunt during sunrise. It’s maddening, the kind of need that Simon requires, but it’s hard to refuse when you feel so warm and bubbly and happy after he’s finished. A pampered princess you are, never lifting a finger, only awake long enough when he’s home to eat until you’re full and cum until you fall asleep again.

Maybe that’s why you’re not pregnant yet. Simon likes to be here, between your thighs, mouth fixed on your wet pussy until he’s practically exhausted himself with a sore jaw and lax tongue.

He kisses you sloppy after. Licking into your mouth, practically spitting onto your tongue, wanting you to taste—tastes so good, luvvie, don’t ya see, yeah?—wanting you to know why he’s so eager to be on his knees all the time.

You sniffle, a little dizzy, shaking your head.

“’s not what I really want,” is all you whimper, and he nods, because he knows, he always knows.

“I know, luv. I know wot ya really need.”

“I must be broken,” you sob, cradling his face in your hands, and he shakes his head.

“Not broken,” Simon assures you. He speaks so surely that it’s hard not to believe him. “It wasn’t time.”

“You can’t see the future, Simon! You don’t know!” You cry, and he snarls a little, shaking his head again.

“You listen t’me,” he growls. You shake a little as he grabs your face with one hand, fixing your jaw under his grip as he holds onto you firmly. “Wot I say goes. Y’r my wife, so listen t’me, and listen t’me good. Y’r not broken. Not time. Say it back t’me.”

Your lip trembles, and he rattles your head a little.

“Say it,” he snaps, and you hiccup.

“It’s not time,” you whisper, and he plants a fat kiss onto your tear-soaked lips.

“Just need my cock, luv,” he murmurs. “Tha’s oll. Just need me t’fuck it outta ya.”

You nod, pressing your face to his, and he tuts, reaching down and spreading your legs wide to accommodate him between them as he lays over you.

“’s oll y’need,” he repeats, and you nod again.

You have to take another bath in the same morning; and this time, you weren’t able to walk there.

You like when Simon is home because it’s quiet. The only one that dotes on you here is Simon. The maids do not dress you or do your hair or moisturize your skin. It’s always Simon.

You smile at him in the mirror as you sit at your vanity. He has a brush in one hand, and he’s using it delicately to detangle your hair how you like. His hands are practiced and gentle, and when he finishes, he leans over you as he starts to part your hair to braid it. He did not have sisters, but his mother had him always do her hair after she lost the use of her hands with age. You don’t know where his mother is, but you assume she is not here anymore, because he never invites you to meet her.

He oils your skin. He slips the robe off of you, revealing your damp skin from the bath, and he slathers oil in his hands before using it to soften your skin. He takes his time, smoothing those big hands over your shoulders, down your back, along your arms. You tilt your head back when he warms your breasts, squeezing and fondling your tits. He murmurs in your ear the entire time, and he has to fuck you with his fingers to quiet you when he stops because just his hands on your tits has you wet all over again.

He dresses you, too. Helps you slip into your undergarments, fastens the cage for your skirts over your hips. He ties them skillfully, and after he layers your skirts over the farthingale, he gets you into your corset. It’s intimate as he does this. Even with your wide skirt, he comes closer, over your shoulder, and he tugs at the laces at your back, pulling it tight with firm grunts. You sigh when he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his hand skimming over your breasts as they sit nice and perky between stiff fabric and whalebone.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Fuck, unnerving…the way ya look…”

You close your eyes, “S-Simon, please…I’m already dressed…”

He chuckles, “I know. I know.”

But when he has to leave again, you nearly come with him. You fasten his armor for him, help him slip each piece of leather on and click every piece of metal into place. You tie his cloak and slip his mask on, and you try and duck your head when you flip his hood up, but he catches you, tilting your chin up.

He huffs when he sees your face. Tears sliding down your cheeks, lips wet with them, eyes all glassy and red. He draws you up onto your toes, pressing his mouth to yours through the mask, and you hold onto him tightly, digging your nails into his chest armor and threatening to not let go.

“I want to go.“

“No.”

“Simon, let me go,” You gasp, begging, gripping his hood in firm fists and not caring that his armor is cutting into your front. “Let me go with you, I can’t do this anymore, I want to go, I can do it.”

You aren’t sure if Simon underestimates you. You think it’s more that he does not want you to see him in a place where he is most true. Where he wears the least of a disguise. He does not know he wears it the least with you, and that you have already seen his blood and how it curdles under his skin. You like it that way. You like him angry…and mean…and terrible. You like him when his sword is dirty and his armor needs polishing and his mind thinks of nothing else besides war. He should know this by now. He should know that you see him and see what he is even more than his king, more than his men.

He couldn’t scare you, even if he tried.

“War is not where women go,” Simon snaps. His tone is harsh, even for you, and you stiffen when he grips you by the jaw and rattles your head a little. “Especially not one like you, my love. War would eat ya, eat ya fuckin’ whole. Look at ya…” He huffs, deep, sliding that gloved hand down your throat to slip it beneath the neckline of your dress and fondle your breast with a firm grip. “Beautiful. Meant for my lips…for these dresses…meant to be held in my hands, not bleed from stray arrows, because tha’ is surely the least of wot they would do t’ya if they knew ya were my wife. Now ya will wipe these tears, ‘n see me off, and then ya will come back inside like a good girl, ‘n you will wait for me here until I come back.”

Your bottom lip trembles, and you scowl up at him. Not indifference, but frustration, and Simon doesn’t think it suits you.

“I’m sick of waiting for you, Simon,” you spit. “It’s all I ever do, wait. Wait for you to come back, alive or dead, I never know. And don’t say you do this for country, that is a lie.” You shove him backwards, but he barely budges when your hands touch his chest, a rigid wall that does not give. “You do it because you like it. You’re a bloodthirsty dog, and all you do is bend to our king’s will.”

A lie, but you tell it anyways, because you want something, and he will not give it to you.

“That is my duty.”

“Your duty is to me,” you snap. “Kings come and go, but I will not.” Simon stills. He glares down at you from behind his mask, and perhaps this might terrify his men, but that you are not. You are his wife, and you are protected by that title alone. The only man to ever lay a hand on you would not live to see another second, himself included. “Now you will let me join you, or so help me God, Simon, I will not be here when you return.”

You do not expect the full-bellied laugh that leaves him. His armor shakes with him, and you grind your teeth, narrowing your eyes. He uses his thumb to force his mask up, and then he cups the back of your head and draws you in for a sloppy kiss. You resist at first, but when he feeds you his tongue, you melt. You kiss him back, letting him draw you closer, and you sigh as he tangles his fingers into your hair and cradles you with those big hands.

There is nothing more to say. Simon neither confirms nor denies, but you taste it in his mouth, his devotion. Not wrong, not right, but just so–he has many responsibilities, but you are the only one that will remain the same. One day, his king will die, and he will serve another, but the space you have made beside him will never change. Even when you die, because he knows you will go before him, there will never be someone else to fill it. You and you only, the woman he found and made his, the one he demanded lest he kill his own country for it, it will always be you. Soft and sweet, you are, but the Lord knew Simon could only have one woman, and he made it be you; the one spitfire enough to defy her own king because she trusted his love enough for it.

Would you commit treason to save his life? Would you watch a king die if it meant your beloved lived? 

Would he?

He thinks about what you have said when he takes his fleet across the water. He runs his tongue over his teeth behind his mask, breathing deep when he thinks about your proclamations of duty. Of change. Of what remains when other things move, of the kind of life that waits for him when he comes and goes with a king’s order. He thinks about how easily he is taken away from you, and he knows there is truth in what you feel. It is not really Simon that sacrifices, it is what he leaves behind, and that is you.

It’s never angered him before. He had accepted the fact, as early as your wedding day, that he would leave and come back, then leave again. It has always been the way of his life, come desire or not, so it bothers him that of all the things that surprised him in his life, it would be missing someone that shocked him the most.

Missing his wife. Missing the serene perfection of one woman, and the perfect place between her soft thighs. Every day that he finds himself between them is the best day of his life, he reckons, so now he feels bitter about staring at a freezing ocean amongst his men because he will go weeks without her.

Her. Her. Her.

He is bitter, yes, until he is not.

It comes in a letter from a messenger on horseback. They have been stationed in a foreign land for weeks now, watching slowly as the stone walls of a castle at their front crumples day after day from the stones filled with powder that ignite what is wood and break what is rock. The letter is sealed with wax, with the motif of a snake. It is given directly to Simon, whose name is scribbled in the letter, and when he reads it, he tastes ichor and smoke.

So the great phantom has come to seal my fate. I am not in the business of letting what is mine be taken. Even if you have brought your all, it won’t be taken from me.

I heard you have a beautiful new wife. I heard you paid for her in blood.

I shall do the same. I will hang your sword above our marriage bed.

Ghost is not someone that bends to the threats from foe he cannot look in the eye. Words are so empty. It is nothing like when he stands just a few meters apart from them, eyes fixed against one another, as they decide whether today they want to live or they want to die. The letter means nothing, but he’s surprised by the heat that bubbles under his ribs at the mention of his bride. He meant it when he said you were not meant for war, and that meant in this regard, too–nobody was allowed to talk about you, not like this, not ever.

When his king orders him home, Ghost crumples the note and tosses it into embers. He watches it burn, and then he orders his men to set to flame the ground around the stone walls.

So men like him can be goaded, it seems. His resolve is not as strong as he thought.

The weeks make you anxious. All you do is sit and collect dues and tell the maids which dress you want to wear and which you do not. It is peaceful and boring, and you wish Simon was here to make your days more exciting, but he is not.

His letters are the only things that keep you occupied, truly. He writes to you about war and loneliness, and you write to him about the mundane of domesticity and the ache he leaves behind. Sometimes, his letters come folded with pressed flowers he finds along the way, and you start to collect them, putting them away in small boxes or using them as bookmarks as you go through Simon’s library.

He has many books. His most loved books are those of war, of history, and you smooth your fingers over the pages he has dogeared and find comfort in reading the same words that he once did. You learn, as well. While in your studies as a girl, they made you learn arithmetic and the flowery bits of history and art, here in Simon’s house, you learn of strategy and weaponry and military tactic. Sometimes you disagree, and you write about these disagreements to Simon, and he writes back, pleased with your observations. He told you once that if you were a man, he would want you in that tent with him, beside him, deciding on which formations to take and when to strike. You responded saying that you could be that for him anyway. What did your sex have anything to do with whether you were right or wrong?

Simon agreed.

But I would never invite you here, dear wife. You have to understand that.

When your queen asks for your audience for dinner, you oblige easily; finally, you have something to do rather than add up numbers or sign a document on Simon’s behalf or read another fucking book.

You don’t want to wear all the costume your maids insist on, but you appease them after they repeatedly explain to you what your title means. With a drawn face, you let them tie your corset and layer your skirts, and you watch in the mirror as they braid your hair and drape large, obnoxious jewels over you. You grimace at the tiara they fit into your hair, and your elderly handmaid pinches your cheeks and tells you to put on a fair countenance, Your Grace, lest you make the Duke look ungrateful.

You bite your tongue from snapping at her. She should know that Simon would say nothing about your countenance; all he would do is fix whatever was bothering you until you smiled again.

You arrive early enough to have tea. Your queen is so excited to see you; she gushes when you meet her in the throne room, pulling you up from your curtsy so she can hug you tight, squealing. When you try to address her with a curt “Your Majesty,” she shakes her head, pressing her hands to your cheeks and giggling, “No need for formalities now. Call me Victoria.”

You hide your displeasure with a small smile. Now that you are no longer her lady-in-waiting, she allows you her name. Is it because she sees you more as equals, or because now you’re allowed to be somewhat of friends?

You must be some kind of friend. She sizes you up like you are one. She wears England’s colors this afternoon. A fire red dress adorned with gold accents, a dragon pin holding her shawl. She wears magnificent red and gold jewelry, but she’s looking at your dress, and you can see the slight twitch of her eye. You are wearing French lace, and she doesn’t like it. Or maybe she doesn’t like the color, the accents of navy blue and silver that you wear.

The skull motif that is woven into your tiara and printed on your coat and sewn into your dress. Does it insult her? That all your life, you wore nothing but browns and beiges and grays, were invisible to her, and now you represent your house, visit her as your guest, and bear an honorable name?

You were no one when you served her. Just a girl, no close family, no friends, just a distant uncle who gave you to the crown that hoped you could be of service. That was to be your duty for all your life–to serve the king’s wife until she wanted you no more or until she was gone. To cater to her every need and every wish, no matter the time of day or night.

Now you sit across her, more noble. Refined. Wearing a dress she despises, perhaps because she likes it more than her own.

Over tea, she gossips about the other ladies she has visit. You’ve heard this before, but you’ve never been included in the conversation. She talks to you, and she wants to hear your opinion, and you find yourself uneasy as you try to think of what to say. She is your queen, and you want her to like you. When you worked for her, you earned her favor by always warming up her jewels before she put them on, by making sure she had her tea ready in the morning at her bedside, by always holding the fan she so loved for when she inevitably had a hot flash. Now, as her friend, you weren’t exactly sure what to do. You suck in a soft breath and look at her, and then you purse your lips.

You think it best to agree with her. To be on her side. You might not be her direct servant any longer, but you still must fall under her favor. A queen’s favor can be just as powerful, especially if she occasionally has the ear of her husband.

“Well, that’s not very kind of her,” you say finally, and she laughs.

“No! She’s such a prude. I think her husband doesn’t sleep in her bed enough, if you know what I mean,” she winks at you. You giggle at that. “Speaking of husbands–” She pops another cake in her mouth. “How is yours?”

You reach up and tug at your necklace a bit, smiling nervously.

“Oh, uh…” You clear your throat, “He’s doing very well. I hear his latest campaign is quite the success. His majesty is very smart, heading for the east that way, I’m sure they will be victorious soon enough.”

Victoria smiles at the thought of her husband. His intelligence. She always used to talk to you about how many hours he worked, how she hated when he was away, how she wished he was home more so he could give her a son because she was so, so lonely.

“Wise words from the duchess, aye, my love?”

You jump a bit at the low voice from behind, and when you turn, you gasp, immediately standing and falling into a delicate curtsy. John Price waves his hand, coming further into the room, shaking his head.

“It’s alright,” he tells you. “Please, sit. You’re here as my guest.”

You stand and lift your head, trying to relax. You take a seat, smiling nervously, and Victoria smiles giddily at her husband. When he bends to kiss her cheek, she fawns, reaching for his hand and squeezing it before taking another piece of tart and eating it. John hums before motioning for one of the staff to fill your cup again with tea. He eyes you curiously, taking in your appearance. You sit up at that, performatively brushing off over the skull pattern on your corset. John runs his tongue over his teeth, smoothing a big palm down his wife’s long coils of hair.

“Since you’re here, I’d like a word, if that’s alright,” John says to you. His tone carries a little more authority now, and Victoria sighs, whining a little.

“John, please, she’s my friend. Can’t it wait–”

“That wasn’t a question, Victoria,” John bites. Her face falls a little. She swallows and tucks her hands into her lap. You’re reminded as you look at the slight wobble of her lip that there is no one truly above John Price, not even her. You keep your face neutral, but if you were invisible, you’d pity her.

What a shame her husband sees her as less than. How embarrassing. Your Simon would never. Your Simon waits until you finish speaking before speaking himself. Your husband kneels to take off your shoes, your husband tears your skirts to get a taste of you, your husband used his teeth to sever a man’s throat just to have your hand.

What did John Price do to get his wife? Who did John Price kill to have her hand? How many bruises did he earn around his knees on their wedding night from eating her out? As many as Simon, whose knees were black and blue by morning?

No, you suppose not. How unfortunate. How pathetic.

Victoria picks up her skirt and stands, pasting a big smile on her face. It doesn’t reach her eyes, and you can see the way her hands shake a little as she scurries off. She scowls as soon as she turns away from John, clearly annoyed.

“I’ll go check on dinner,” she says, but it is soft and unenthusiastic.

When she goes, the room falls quiet. At the nod of John’s head, the staff leave, and you keep still in your seat as John sits across from you, picking up one of the cakes in front of him and breaking off a piece to busy himself. He keeps his eyes on his task of cutting up the cake in small pieces, focused on his hands and how they work. You watch him carefully, steeling yourself.

You anticipate a conversation between man and woman, not a king and his lesser.

“Simon’s been away for some time. I bet that’s difficult for you.”

You straighten your posture, realizing what this conversation will be. By his tone, John seems to think you a bored, stupid housewife, perhaps. Uneducated. A woman, no thoughts in her head. You let your face relax, and you fold your hands in your lap. Maybe now is the time John should learn who you are and who you are not.

What you have become and what you no longer are.

“I do just fine, Your Majesty,” you say finally. You pick up a spoon and drop a cube of sugar into your tea, and you stir, picking it up to take a long sip. John is curious by your content. You have a quick tongue. “I could say the same to you, couldn’t I?”

John laughs. He narrows his eyes a bit at your clever response, taking a large bite of the cake and running a cloth over his beard. His eyes sparkle a little.

“So you know.”

“Know what, Your Majesty?”

“You know I gave Simon orders. And you know he didn’t listen to me.”

You purse your lips, but he sees the shine in your eyes. The lack of surprise. His face twitches a bit, and you shake your head. You blink slow, and it irks him to see you so calm. He is your king, and Simon answers to him, and you are his wife, so you must answer, too.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about.”

“I could have your husband’s head cut off for treason for that, you’re aware, aren’t you?”

You tilt your head to the side. What an odd thing for John to say. What an odd thing for John to contemplate, since it would never come to pass. “Don’t be daft, my king. You wouldn’t want to do that.”

John slams his fist on the table, making the plates and cups rattle with his frustration, but you do not even flinch. You blink, stone-faced, and it makes his nostrils flare. He recognizes that glare, he knows it well. He has seen it before, stared it down many times in rooms just like this. Only now, he is not fighting for land, he fights for control of the one man that he has always been able to rely on. Simon has followed him into battles outnumbered by a thousand men, and only now he ignores an order? Only now he chooses something different?

“Now, let’s be civil, Your Majesty,” you say softly. You smile at him, leaning your head in your hand. “Is there something that you need from me? I have a feeling you might have encouraged this dinner just so you could see me in passing, so why don’t you just ask me what you wanted to ask me?”

John lets out a deep breath, leaning his elbows on the table, lowering his voice. He leans towards you, and you admire how blue his eyes are. John is quite a handsome king, but he does not captivate you. It has been a long time since John has tasted blood, and he lacks the edge that you crave dearly.

“I need him back here, is what I need,” John murmurs.

“My king, I couldn’t get him back here any more than you could, even if I wanted to.”

“Now who’s being daft?”

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. John is not a stupid man. He created a beast of a man, and he is trying not to poke it too hard. You shift, brushing down your skirts, and you let out a low breath.

“Why did he refuse?” You ask finally.

“What?”

“Why does he ignore your order to come back?” You ask again. “I can’t think of a lot of reasons why he would stay. So why did he ignore you?”

John clicks his tongue, smoothing a few of his fingers over his beard. He averts his eyes, looking out the tall windows, frowning a little at the grim weather. The weather is always grim here, but it irks him at the moment, makes him scowl a little harder.

“I was…informed that there was some sort of letter,” John explains. “Some threat.”

“I don’t follow. He gets lots of threats. And terrible letters.”

“Was about you this time, Your Grace.”

You close your eyes at that, shaking your head. Simon would never be so foolish as to be baited by baseless threats. He barely bats an eye when someone even in front of him draws his sword. He is so comforted by his ability to win, by his dreams and his visions that have not yet happened.

“That’s absurd,” you breathe. “Simon wouldn’t…”

John chuckles, but there is no humor there. “Wouldn’t he?”

“I still don’t understand what you expect me to do,” you roll your eyes, looking away. “Simon is…he’s not…he doesn’t listen. It’s why he’s good at this, isn’t it? He doesn’t really take orders, he’s…I…”

John has never complained before about the way Simon chooses to lead. Oftentimes, it is an order ignored that has made it so that he delivered another crown at John’s feet. Simon asks for forgiveness, not permission, and John has barely batted at eye at it. He sees Simon as some kind of distant son, but this refusal bothers him so?

John leans forward. “You need to understand something here, Simon is a rabid dog,” he spits. “And sometimes I let him off his lead, but this isn’t like anything I’ve had to deal with. I need you to call him back here.” He scoots closer. “England needs you to call him back here. To me.”

You narrow your eyes a little. England needs you to call him back? What kind of sick sense of patriotism is he trying to instill in you? John is stupider than he looks, to think a woman like you would show loyalty to country. You are loyal to your husband, and nothing else, because what has king and country ever really done for a woman like you except for dispose of you?

You wear Simon’s colors, not John’s, and you will wear them to your deathbed.

“If I do this for you, my king, then you owe me,” you whisper. He laughs again, no humor, and he picks up a goblet and fills it to the brim with wine. He drinks half before slamming it down onto the table, spilling it over his hand.

“Kings do not owe their subjects.”

“Quite right, Your Majesty,” you agree, picking up your napkin and dropping it onto the table. You stand, giving him a polite curtsy. “But I am not doing this as your subject.”

“Everything you do is as my subject.”

“You put your entire right to the throne on the back of one man,” you say softly. You are not accusing him, you’re reminding him of a truth. “Simon is why…he’s why your counsel still listens to you. He’s why your people are free from famine, why…why your taxes get paid on time, why your kingdom is still standing, no thanks to your father who wasted this place’s fortune on women and liquor.” You shake your head. “You have an eye for conquest, Your Majesty, but you lack the execution of any plan you conjure.”

You are not wrong, and John knows this, and it’s why he hasn’t spoken up yet or interrupted you. The man before, his own father, was a drunkard who spent all their money. He drank himself into the grave, and the only reason John stands before you now is because of Simon. A man who he fought beside, who he commanded, who once John’s duty became reality took up the mantle and finished what his father never could.

John would be in the next history book you read because of Simon, and it’s Simon’s name that will never be written. They do not bestow legacy to men who serve other men.

“Where…Where did you learn to speak to men this way?” John scoffs. “I am your king.”

You must have hit a soft spot. John is defensive now, and men only deflect and insult when they are cornered with the truth. They don’t like being held in front of a mirror.

“You are king because my husband made it so,” you correct him gently. “And Simon is a loyal dog, and that is good for your sake, because if he had any desire for your seat, it would be his.” You come closer, your heels sounding, and John glares down at you; but you glare right back because you are protected by your name and what you can do with it. John knows this, and it angers him, but he seems to have difficulty facing the truths of his own making. “But he is not your dog anymore. He’s mine.”

Your pen on paper is aggressive. You can tell because the splotches of ink are deep, bleeding black sinking into white as you put angry word to parchment. Not even a fortnight later, you are playing cards with Victoria, and you see Simon’s silhouette standing in the doorway, hood shadowing his masked face as he observes. When you look over your shoulder where John sits, and you meet his eyes, he looks away from you with a grim understanding.

Simon answers your call. Always.

At dinner, John is in better spirits. He drinks with a big smile, eats more than one plate, and he picks Victoria up by the waist to make her dance with him when he asks for the music to be played louder. Simon sits, fidgety, gloved hands moving in and out of fists as he watches you cut into your food and eat it with a blank face. He huffs beside you, his armor stiffening as he sits up straight, and you let your fork clatter onto your plate as you turn to glare at him.

“You were thinking with your cock, Simon,” you spit. “That is how men like you get killed.”

“You ‘ave no idea how men like me get killed because there are no men like me,” Simon growls. You roll your eyes, standing, and he grips your wrist angrily, tugging you close until you fall into his lap. You sigh, shaking your head, putting your hands on his broad shoulders and making him look at you.

“Maybe,” you whisper. “But I’m not wrong. It is how you’ll lose. You know better than that, Simon. To fight someone because they taunted you in a letter, it’s playing the fool.” You cup his cheeks, keeping his eyes on yours. “You don’t need me to tell you that, and yet here we are.”

He breathes slow, closing his eyes for just a moment. He thinks he came for this, just a little. For clarity. Reason. It comes from you in waves, and it’s comforting to hear. It is something he knew, and yet it only makes sense now that you have said it.

“I know,” Simon mutters. “I know. Y’r right. I’m sorry, luv.”

You ask him to apologize when he undresses you. You ask him to apologize again when he sinks into a hot bath with you. You ask him a third time when he is in your bed, a heavy weight between your thighs as he licks and sucks at the soft skin of your tummy. He begs, lowly, let me ‘ave it, and you will, but he has to say he’s sorry again.

“‘m sorry,” he breathes, sucking on your inner thigh, and you close your thighs around his head, forcing his mouth against your cunt.

“Again, Simon,” you whisper. “I wanna hear it again.”

“‘m sorry,” he slides a rough tongue between your folds, breathing shakily when he tastes the oil that he smoothed over your skin only moments ago. You taste so good, you smell so lovely, coming off of you like fumes blinding his senses so that nothing else but you makes any sense at all. When you open your eyes, you think about where you are, and you nearly come thinking about what you have wrapped around your finger.

Not even your king tells your husband what to do. Not even your king commands his men, they won’t listen, he’s not who they turn to when things go belly-up, it’s your husband, and your husband answers to you.

You weren’t sure about it until today. Seeing him when you asked him to come, it flooded you with something that hurt. You could tell from even so far away that Simon was salivating under that mask. You knew the only thing separating his mouth from your cunt were the other people around him (and they were not privy to seeing you naked).

It is such a thing to observe. John needed a lead on Simon when he was his dog. You need no such mechanism. Simon never strays, not with you. He sits proper when you ask, and he speaks when spoken to. He tears at unwanted flesh, and he comes when you call.

John cannot give him all that he desires. Perhaps he thought what Simon truly wanted was fame and fortune. Legacy. But like most things men do, John does not observe. He takes in only what is right in front of him, and he makes assumptions. Simon is not like other men. Fame and fortune do not matter. He does not care about legacy. What matters to Simon is what he can hold in his hands. The ground under his feet. The steel in his hand. The woman underneath him, spreading her legs, inviting him in.

You love Simon. You love Simon more than anything in the entire world, but it would be a lie to say that you are not at some advantage here. Simon is all-consuming. He is the pinnacle of duty and honor and everything that a man is supposed to be, but Simon is also weak. There is something that he wanted more than anything in the world, and now that he has it, he will do anything to keep it, and that makes him vulnerable. Subject to all kinds of new things. Revenge. Retaliation. Pain.

Manipulation.

Maybe you should feel bad about it. Maybe you should feel guilty, but it’s hard to feel anything like it when there’s a big bear of a man between your thighs slobbering on your pussy like dessert. It’s hard to feel anything but bliss when he’s tracing the letters of his name into your cunt and making you see stars and fucking you into the silk sheets like it’s the last time he’ll ever have you.

It is men who govern your world, and if this is how you must move in it, then so be it. You will not feel bad. You will not be sorry for doing what anyone else would do. John thought he could keep his hand there, muzzle his mutt, but you like him this way, and you’re certain John doesn’t fuck the way you do.

He’s mine.

It isn’t John that commands an army, it’s you; or maybe your cunt, but that belongs to you, too, so it is you, isn’t it? You’re the one that lets him inside, that whispers in his ear, that tells him things you know he wants to hear to make things move in your favor, so it’s you, right?

Not John. Not Victoria. Not their counsel. You. They have stepped on you your entire life. They have made you small and inferior and sad for all of your existence, and they gave you something feral knowing it could eat you alive, and now you are the hand that feeds, and they are forgetting that if they bite too hard, you have something that will surely bite harder.

A collar would suit him, you think. He would look so pretty. He already is, the terrible beast, prettiest thing you’ve ever seen (the necklace your drape over him does just fine, a pendant with his motif that you hope reminds him of you). You don’t care if people would say his face is quite ugly. It is, very much so, but you never see him this way. Whenever that mask falls, your stomach flips. He takes your breath away. His intensity, his raw form of love, the look on his face–there is nothing else in the entire world that will love you the way he loves you.

“You came back for me?” You ask. You have a leg tangled between his, and his fingers are between your thighs, a shadow of a smirk on his face as he feels the mixture of your cum and his. He grunts a little, and you tilt your head to look up at him, your chin on his chest.

“‘f course,” Simon mutters, and you kiss his chest gently, keeping your eyes on his.

“But not for John.”

He turns his head, looking down at you more intently, and he scoffs. You know it’s true, but you want to hear it, anyways. You want to hear Simon admit, unknowingly, that you are the tether.

“John is afraid, and I don’t listen to ‘im when he’s afraid. Makes bad choices.”

It’s almost adorable that this is what Simon tells himself. That he comes back for his own sake, and not for yours, even though they are one and the same, intertwined and inseparable.

“Simon,” you say softly, and he sighs, his eyes closing briefly when you kiss him gently. “You have to listen to your king when he asks you to come back. Making a…rash decision about war strategy is one thing, but…” You cup his cheek gently. “Make things easier for me, husband. If he asks you to come back, you come back.”

This time, at least. Just this time.

Simon snarls a bit, but you swallow it when you kiss him. You maneuver yourself over him, straddling his hips, and he grunts as you sink down on him. He swells hard again very quickly, releasing a deep breath as you give a slow roll of your hips.

“Make things easy for me, my love,” you whisper, and he leans his head back, putting two big hands on your ass and moving you with ease. “Appease your king, yes? For me?”

“Can’t say no when y’r pussy squeezes me like tha’, sweet’eart,” Simon groans, and you giggle, planting your hands on his chest and starting to move a little faster. You lean your head back, your mouth falling open, and you gasp when you sink down completely, your ass touching his thick thighs as you tighten around him. “Fuckin’ Christ–”

“I hate when you go,” you whine, digging your nails into his chest. He hisses, planting his feet on the bed, and he fucks up into you with a renewed fervor. “Hate when you’re not here, Simon, I-I miss you, miss this–”

“Nghh…fuck, I know,” Simon pants. “Can feel it. Feel you.” You squeal when he grips you by the waist and turns you over. He makes it seem so easy, tossing your weight underneath him, and your arms circle around his neck as you draw him closer, hanging onto him. “Y’r so fuckin’ pretty…”

“Simon–”

He kisses to devour. His jaw hinges wide to kiss you sloppy, breathing in the moans that you can’t contain. Simon always fucks so well, stretching your thighs as wide as they will accommodate so he can make room for the goliath of himself that he is. He suffocates, in a good way, and his cock never fails to stretch you for all that you are worth. Simon holds your jaw in place as he grinds into you, relishing in the wet smack of his hips against yours. The fat of you satisfies him. It makes him growl with delight when he grabs onto wide hips, your fat arse, the body that you hold that tells him you are fed and warm and content. It draws his grin wider, and it makes him drool thinking about having you again and again and again, until you beg him for reprieve and his heir sits in your womb.

Simon fucks for sport. He wants to see how stupid he can make you. He wants to know how long you’ll cry for, how fat he can make your tears. He wants to know how loud you will cry, how many times he can make you cum before you’re incoherent, he wants to know the extent to which he can use you that you will still be awake enough to say his name just one more time. Simon is not satisfied until he pushes your limits.

It is what a Riley does. They endure, and they eat, and they consume, and they take pleasure in the all-encompassing indulgement of things they have never been allowed to have. You are a woman, so he knows this will come easy for you. So often, he knows, women are not allowed to indulge at all, so he wants you to. He wants you to cry and moan and eat, and he wants you to do it bearing his name so that no one will ever tell you no.

Simon says no to kings, and they placate, or they die. His wife will be offered the same respect, and he’ll stand behind her with a sword to make it law. When you bear his children, he will expect the same of them–to give their mother utter devotion, lest they answer to his hand. There is no one above you, not God, not country, and certainly not blood. They will know what their father did to have you, and they will spill the same amount of blood to keep it that way. They will do it for you, and then they will do it for their own lovers, and if they don’t have the same sentiments, that love is not true, and Simon will not give his blessing.

Everything else is trivial. He knows this, understands it, because history repeats itself. It is cyclical, and you are right. Kings come and go. Sons die to other sons, fathers make bad decisions, and crowns are passed to bastards and back again, until lineage is merely spectacle and power changes hands often enough to lose generational merit. There is one thing that remains, and it is what you do while you are on earth, while you are standing on the ground you were born on. Even faiths change; when men find it suitable, they change the rules, and then you worship a different God, so Simon sees no point in staying loyal to any of it.

Instead, he is true to what he knows. To what he can see and what he can feel. With John, he remembers being a young man, fighting alongside him. He follows John, to an extent, because he knows what it is like to share blood with him on a muddy hill and take an arrow for him.

With you, time stands still. He saw you in a room, and he had to have you, and he brought nations to ruin to make certain no one would bat an eye when he asked for your hand. He saw you in a dream, too–he saw you laying in his bed of furs, wearing nothing but a tiara of his making, wet between the thighs because that is how it’s meant to be. He recognized you when he saw you that first time, and he doesn’t know how, but saying no to you, really saying no, will change that vision, and he couldn’t bear that.

Your voice echoes. You’re moaning, overstimulated, but he doesn’t stop. The hair around his cock rubs your clit too many times, and when you come around him, you’re a shaking, withering thing, back bowed and nipples pebbled. Your toes curl as you cry from the starry-eyed, hot pleasure, but he keeps moving, chasing something in the distance that he can taste, so close.

Yes, Simon ignored his king. Yes, Simon did not ignore you. Yes, Simon admits, he came when you called, and he doesn’t feel bad about it, he doesn’t care how it seems. He would do it again if he had the chance. John could give him the same answer as you in every timeline, but he will only move if the command comes from you, and yes, Simon knows it makes him a liability, but crowns come with costs, and this is the one John must pay.

Simon will fight any of John’s enemies, but he won’t fight fate. He won’t fight what has already been seen, and he won’t fight what he already knows will happen.

With Simon’s cock in your mouth, you can make him deliver on promises. Sucking on the girth of him, you can make him an honest man. Taking inside of your mouth what you can swallow, you can make Simon do your bidding, and it is a hard lesson that John learns.

“Do this for me,” you slobber against the underside of his cock, and Simon relents.

“Make me happy,” you say, swirling your fingers against your puffy pussy, and Simon kneels with an open mouth.

“Just this once,” you whisper with his cum on your tongue, and Simon seals his choice with his hands on your tits and the taste of himself in his mouth.

When you make eyes with John across the low lights of the throne room, he can’t help the way he admires you. You stand beside Simon, looking the essence of nobility and reverence in another intricate silver and blue dress. The train of your skirt glitters with delicate jewels hand sewn into the fabric, and the headpiece you wear adorns a skull insignia. Your corset has been tied just right, thanks to Simon’s hand, and your own fingers are clasped between his. Your corset and jewels are of exquisite detail–one of the newest designs from Paris, structured and elegant and accentuating every curve of soft skin.

You glow in the room. His wife must be wearing a dress just as expensive, probably more, and yet his eyes (and everyone else’s) cannot help but follow you. Your own eyes won’t leave Simon; you flutter your lashes whenever he looks down at you, big smile on your face, and even when there are people curtsying and bowing to you and giving Simon their gratitude between bites of cake and glugs of wine, your attention never really strays. 

John feels inadequate in his own fortress; suddenly, red and gold sicken him, and England tastes sour in his mouth.

In a few generations, John’s house will likely fall. He will make heirs that will fail him, he knows this. In a few centuries, his family will not sit in the same place, but a Riley will remain right where they are supposed to be. Banners of blue and silver will always fly. If Simon does not make sure of that, then you will.

It’s what happens when you force women like you to their knees. When they grow up invisible, always in the shadows, forgotten and sold to the next man who will pay a higher price, it’s what you learned to do. It’s all you’ve ever known, to make the best out of something terrible.

Simon is the same, in that sense. You understand him in a way his king will never be able to. Simon has nothing, and neither do you, and Simon was stepped on and berated and tortured to the point of no return. It is why blood does not scare him and why death doesn’t come knocking. Time will be the only thing capable of killing him, and everyone that stands up to him learns that when they eat his blade.

In the quiet of the evening, Simon undresses you. He sits behind you on the bed, fingers pinching the bows at your back and unraveling them. He traces your corset, thumb circling over the skull pattern of the belt around the small of your waist, and he tastes something warm in his mouth at the sight of it. You look so beautiful–more beautiful than he’s ever seen you maybe, decorated in his colors and wearing his motif and sitting so pretty.

“You wanna know something…funny?” You ask quietly. Simon finds the ties of your skirts and starts to undo them. He grunts in reply; he might sound standoffish, but you know he’s listening. “John…John made it…he makes it seem like you don’t really listen to him. He implied that…in the face of adversity, you might only listen to me.” You put your hands on the front of your corset to keep it from falling. “Isn’t that funny?”

“Wot’s so funny?”

You swallow, looking down. Your hands fidget, and you take a closer look at the ring you wear, the delicate gold band he gave you not so long ago.

“I…”

“Mmm…might be right, innit?” Simon snickers after a moment. You feel him stand, and you look over your shoulder as he peels his mask off and grins down at you. He tilts his head to the side, and you smile back at him a little. “Do anythin’ for ya. Disobeying a king…” Simon cackles, tearing your corset off, tossing it onto the floor as he walks you backwards. “Ignoring one…” He shrugs, “Oll in a day, love.”

“He can hang you for it,” you whisper. “Cut off your head. Cut off mine.”

Simon lays you back on the bed, spreading you out, climbing over you. You blink up at him, and he leans down, pressing his forehead to yours.

“I would ‘ave seen it. I would know.”

He would have seen it in a dream. It would have come to him in a reflection in a pool of blood on the battlefield. It would have come to him, the voices in his head, he would have heard them amongst screaming, or perhaps in the void that he finds his mind in when he’s between your plush thighs.

You can’t help the smile that graces your face when Simon kisses the curve where your jaw meets your neck. It is fun, you suppose. Fun to control the tides that set the courses of history. It is fun and almost unbelievable that a king bends to the will of one man’s wife just because it solidifies his name.

You wrap your hand around the twine that dangles from Simon’s neck. It twirls around your fingers, easy, solid. Simon’s eyes are dark, and they are yours, and when you smile, so does he, because this is where you are meant to be, forever and always.

“What if I want more?” You ask. Simon hums, low from within his chest, and you run your tongue over your teeth. “Did you see that in your dreams, Simon? Hmm? Do you know what I’m asking for? What it is that I really want?”

Simon smiles. A dark one, with teeth, and you know he hears it. What more means for a duke and his duchess. What more means when you have all the money you could ever want, all the land you could ever need.

What more means when you have climbed your way to the top and still desire more. More, more, more. There are not many steps left to climb. There are not many places left to take, not much more of the world that can really be yours, but Simon looks ravenous, and Simon looks hungry, and if you fuck him now, you’ll have him right where you want him.

When you tug on what hangs around his neck, Simon bends. Simon follows.

[strayheartless]

Things in Zack’s ADHD apartment that are necessary for him to function (as implemented by Angeal.)

His toothbrush lives on his nightstand. Not in the draw, not in a cabinet over the sink, not in a little pot on the sink. On. His. Nightstand. Because in Zack’s brain, if the first thing he see’s in a morning is his toothbrush he thinks “I need to remember to do that, I’ll do it now” and then gets to the bathroom and thinks “I might as well shower and do my hair too…. Hey I need to pee!”

Everything he needs for meal prep goes in a little container in the fridge and is labeled with the days they are to be consumed by. Even the stuff that doesn’t classically live in the fridge go in to these cubbies. Angeal checks them every week and if there is left over stuff he takes it away, makes small lunch portions, freezes them and leaves a note on Zack’s fridge that says lunches are already there for him.

Speaking of, there is a dry erase whiteboard on Zack’s fridge door. It has a grocery list side and a calendar on it. Cloud tends to be the one who updates it when Zack forgets (which is a lot).

Zack’s game consoles are in a cupboard with his games to stop himself getting distracted while he typed up his reports. This was Zack’s own solution and it works semi well.

His sword hangs on a peg on the back of the door now.

Shoe rack. It’s messy but he can see all of his shoe options.

Files on his shelf that are clearly labeled: “pay checks, bills and taxes”, “letters from home”, “bills part 2”, “commission certificate and graduation paperwork”, “legal thingies”, “passport, birth certificates, and other Identification stuff”. The files were Genesis’ idea. They are written in fun fonts and in colourful felt tips, so he knows where they go.

If he forgets to put things in files they are usually on the coffee table and Sephiroth (the filing fiend) usually does a weekly sweep and sort of his documents.

Laundry basket hoop. Doesn’t always work but sometimes it gives him the dopamine.

A physical letter box on the wall by his front door. He gets a dopamine hit from using a key to check his mail…. Nobodies willing to question it.

The worlds most irritating alarm clock.

Cloud. Just Cloud.

Bottles and kitchen tools all hung at eye level.

Spiny spice rack. He could have had a shelf but the spiny one entertains him.

The smart watch Lazard had Reeve make him. It reminds him of basically everything.

Stamp the dog hydration app that makes sad puppy noises when he needs to drink water (he was irritated about it but he doesn’t actually like upsetting the dog.)

A roomba with googly eyes on it called George. George is on a timer.

Electric air freshener and automatic air filtration.

Kunsel.

[nightmarist]

Some Zevlor Things —

EDIT 12/2/23: Added a few more things

A fellow Tiefling Hellrider, Tilses, is with him in the caves acting as his bodyguard. He sometimes calls her Tilly.

There is one bedroll in the caves shoved off in the far corner with a book titled "The Devil You Know: An Autobiography" - not sure if it's his personal writing or if he's reading it, either way it adds to the flavor of his of his tiefling pride (and/or anguish).

It reads:

Have you ever had a god change your blood? It is a horrifying thing, even for those who may desire it. Yet few tieflings wished for Asmodeus to claim their bodies, only be given no choice in the matter. It is not as if we were well-loved before the archdevil's gambit. Our people have always struggled against the notion of 'devilkin', as if a single drop of infernal ichor inescapably corrupts. How amusing, when so many others willingly sell their souls to fiends, yet their culture as a whole escapes the blame. By what method can we redeem ourselves, when the crime is not ours? I would drive a blade into every warlock that aided Asmodeus' damned ritual, but personal vengeance cannot undo the will of a god, much less one as slippery as the Lord of Lies. When every passerby thinks you a thief and heretic, it is deeply tempting to become one. (cut off) The only thing that has stopped me is knowing Asmodeus wants nothing more than for all of us to fall from grace.

Around the his table are Invasion Plans for Elturgard, Traveler's Guide to Baldur's Gate, Traveler's Guide to the Sword Coast Vol IV: The Risen Road (which aligns when he tells you earlier there are gnolls on the road), and "Front and Center: a Thespian's Memoir" that reads:

"... in fact, the greatest joy of my life hasn't been acting, but becoming. When you choose a character to play, you don't just wear a mask - you take a little bit of their soul for your own. Whoever you are in your heart of hearts, if only by the faintest note."

Zevlor aside I think this is a sweet quote for the player and player character relationship <3

Dialogue in the Caves:

Zevlor: I Hardly need a bodyguard, Tilses. This isn't Avernus. Tilses: No sir. At least the monsters there looked like monsters.

—

Tilses: Commander— Zevlor: Just Zevlor, Tilly. We're civilians now, remember? Tilses: With respect, sir — being a Hellrider is for life. They can't take — Zevlor: They can, and did. Avernus changed things — best we get used to that. Tilses: ... Yes, Zevlor

—

Tilses: The Watch or the Flaming Fist? Zevlor: Pardon? Tilses: When we get to Baldur's Gate. Where are we enlisting? Zevlor: I'm done soldiering, Tilly. I'd like a clean start. But go with the Watch. You're too honest to be a mercenary.

—

Zevlor: No word from the scouts, yet? Tilses: No sir. But if there's a clear path past the goblins, they'll find it. Zevlor: Yes, of course.

ITEMS —

in the Chest there is a bronze goblet, 46 gold, and a battle-worn blade. On his person he has his gloves (Hellrider's Pride), an apple, a camp supply pack, and the key to his chest.

The blade says:

A fine by well-used sword. It seemed to have once belonged to a holy order, but the indication of rank and patron deity at the hilt have recently been filed down.

The gloves' flavor text says:

A waft of sulphur emanates from this proudly-kept piece.

Celebration at the Camp:

"I should be out there, talking with them. In... Just a moment, maybe." "Is this everyone? Our numbers have grown so few..." "No more. I can't afford to lose any more of them." "No. Let them have fun. I'll be ruining it come morning anyway."

Mindfayer Colony:

Things he mumbles in the Pod:

The pod will show you his memories of Elturel:

After saving Zevlor, I forced myself to pick the "mean" options just to see how it goes.

If you tell him its his fault tieflings were imprisoned in moonrise, he says:

If you tell him "Do yo have a right to ask?" when he asks about the tieflings:

He doesn't argue with any of your remarks except one, when he says "For a moment I welcomed it" and you tell him "For a moment until you realized your reward would be a tadpole" he corrects you:

If you tell him if he wanted power he should live up to his own ideal:

If you tell him to get out of your sight:

When you tell him it's not his fault he was enthralled:

If you tell him "Fine. Good luck, Zevlor."

If you say you could use another blade in the fight to come:

At the Netherbrain:

(smiling <3)

"The journey has been brutal, but I stand here a Hellrider once more, and I would die a proud man if I died this day."

I know it's a Soldier thing to be proud to die for a cause but it still makes me worry for him given his background so far <:]

If you click on him, he has two unvoiced lines:

if you pickpocket him at this point, he'll have the same items on him as before (in this save he has a carrot instead of an apple for me).

His stats at this time: (Steeped in Bliss is from one of my items)

Post Game (Patch 5)

I don't know if there are other permutations of this letter, yet, but this is what I received:

I hope my penmanship has improved somewhat in the past months. When I first stumbled into this city, I shook so badly that I could scarcely hold the soup the priests pressed into my hands - let alone write and thank you as you deserve. It is only when the city itself began to shake that I felt my hands grow still. Along with the other veterans sheltering at the temple - discards of Elturel's 'unworthy' legions - I watched that monstrosity rise over the city. We felt no fear. Only anger. Disgust. Purpose - and with it, power. I do not know what oath we cling to now, or how long it will last - but we shall use it to ensure that this city will not suffer as Elturel did. Whether it wants us or not. It is more than thanks alone I owe. No words can make amends for what I did to my people, but that is as it should be. More come to the temple every day to aid in the relief efforts, and if I am permitted to work alongside them, then I am content. Come and see us, when you can. Zevlor

It's interesting — if not bitterswet, tragic, and inspiring — to hear that Zevlor and other Paladins regained their Oaths via pure, stubborn devotion to saving people when it began to look as bad as Elturel.

[i-drop-level-one-loot]

Hun something else I want to ask is if you would do a hybrid dragon Yan..? Forgot to mention it in the last ask because I forget ideas a lot <3

-from the one anon who said to use 3 names you like :)!

P.s I’ll probably refer to myself as this forever now hun

I'm sorry this took so long!! Here it is:

CW: mild violence, video game logic

Yandere!Dragon x GN!Reader

The winds in the mountains were cold enough to slice open skin and leave blisters.

Traveling up towards the sky was (Reader), a warrior known throughout the lands for their incredible feats, climbing up the snowy pass towards the dark splotch on their map.

The dragon's lair.

Only human in appearance, (Reader) had slaughtered almost every type of monster and fiend in the continent, sending fear through all living beings. They were rumored to be immortal, since they seemed to be capable of recovering from any wound they received, no matter how critical. Whatever life threatening hit they took, and no matter how certain their death seemed to be, (Reader) would only black out, waking a few hours later. A warrior without a past, without a home, who only lived to kill.

Slaying a dragon would be the last creature on the killer's list, having already defeated deities and apocalypse level threats. It wasn't that a dragon would be harder than killing a god; they just hadn't gotten around to it.

In the grand scheme of life, dragon slaying would be a side quest.

(Reader) doubted that the battle would be difficult in any sort of sense; aside from their incredible physical attributes they also had legendary gear such as "the Ring of Absolution" which was forged from the tears of a Golden Warrior. That ring alone made it impossible for enemies to block their attacks or use "break out" to parry.

Upon finding the cave and entering recklessly, (Reader) wished that someone had told them sooner:

That "when you're at the top, the only place to go is down.."

A blast of fire knocked their helmet off their head as the heat pushed them back. Shocked (and a little excited) the warrior raised their vampiric sword. Inside the cave, a giant red and golden dragon sat posed, muscles tense and eyeing the invader with intrigue.

"Who are you, to enter my home?" His deep voice sounded more confused than offended. And when (Reader) pointed their weapon at him in response, he chuckled. "Adorable little human, if you wish to live a long life, leave this cave now, and I shall spare you."

(Reader) shouted, igniting a glowing light around their body, then lunged, slashing at the beast.

To the dragon's surprise it hurt.

"Foul little thing!" He snarled, attempting to blast the human with another bolt of flames (this time not as a warning) but the fighter rolled out of the way, effectively dodging the attack. (Reader) thrust again, angering the dragon when he found that he could not block the sword, the blade passing his harder scales and hitting his soft flesh despite his guarding.

Amidst the rage and frustration a new emotion began forming within the centuries young being; respect.

There were no dragons he wished to associate with, there were no creatures that approached him of their own free will. He was alone. For a very, very long time. For he was not just a dragon..

He was Targov the Malicious.

A dragon of legend, ender of nations, killer of kings..

And his health was slowly being chipped away by the steel of a mortal.

(Reader) did not know who the dragon was, only that this was the closest location for a dragon nest.

"Small human.. I have a proposition for you."

The warrior paused, tilting their head as they waited for the dragon to continue.

"You have impressed me, and you have earned my admiration. So I offer you a chance at life eternal: become my mate, and ascend to a higher state of being.

You shall never want nor need for anything. I will be your willing servant for all of eternity."

It wasn't the first proposal (Reader) had received, yet it was certainly the first from a beast. They stepped back a fraction as though his words caused them to stumble. His request sounded so genuine that it almost killed their blood lust.

Almost.

Disappointment and betrayal filled the dragon's eyes as (Reader) suddenly threw their sword like a spear, lodging it into Targov's chest, a feather's distance shy of his heart. But even that only further fueled the growing need he had for the mortal. And the obvious solution to the warrior's resistance was to make the choice easier for them.

Targov flew forward, but instead of attacking like (Reader) had predicted, he grappled the human in his talons and continued faster, propelling them both out of the cave and into the sky as he built speed.

The wind jostled the surprised human about like a rag doll as they rose higher into the atmosphere. Their ears popped painfully, but they could still hear the roaring laughter of the dragon.

"HA! Now what do you say, human?! Shall you be mine? Or shall I drop you?!" He held the adventurer loosely by the fabric visible under their armor in an attempt to frighten them. But what he saw next made his heart falter.

His eyes widened as (Reader) smiled triumphantly, raising a dagger while maintaining eye contact, and sliced off the part of their outfit Targov held onto, willingly allowing themselves to fall.

It was just a fall.

Yeah, it would hurt. It would hurt like a son of a bitch, but (Reader) knew they wouldn't die. They never did.

However, their near immortality was something that Targov didn't know about.

Before his emotions could fully form into separate feelings, Targov dove, recatching the little human, now with a more secure grip, and flew back to his home, his heart beating a billion beats per second once it restarted.

(Reader) was thrown to the floor by the dragon seconds before being blinded by a bright flash. The dragon was consumed in a bright white glow that illuminated the cave, morphing into a more human appearance, with deep golden skin and red hair. His horns and claws still remained, but as (Reader) could see clearly from his lack of clothes, was now mostly human. He charged towards (Reader), face twisted in his confusing mix of emotions. Anger, shock, hurt, feelings his adrenaline wouldn't give him time to categorize as he closed in on the confused human.

He hoisted (Reader) up by their neck.

"You'd really rather die than be mine?!" The enraged dragon screamed.

Struggling to breathe, the warrior grabbed one of his scaly hands while trying to smack his face with their dominant hand.

The glint of their ring caught Targov's attention, who recognized it instantly. He had been alive for a very long time, and killed many a god during his rebellious years. Sharp teeth sunk into (Reader's) fingers, the dragon biting their hand lightly, suddenly, earning a shocked cry from the struggling human. Targov dropped (Reader), pulling the ring off their finger with his fangs as he did so.

The warrior didn't notice their missing ring until they regained their composure and attempted to attack the humanoid dragon, who blocked their attack perfectly fine.

Targov wore the ring on his smallest claw.

"I see I was right about you.." His deep voice chuckled, but (Reader) couldn't tell if it was out of amusement or fury. "A fellow God killer.. who better suited to be my mate?"

He grabbed (Reader's) wrist, and despite it's low speed, the ring prevented (Reader) from dodging.

"Welcome home, my mate."

"Even if I have to break you, I will have you. And you will learn to love me."

[thebenjiblackwoodexpress]

The Blackwood Knight prt.8

Disclaimer: I wrote this because Victoria is a Shakespeare girlie and loves Romeo and Juliet. She also loves Crimson Peak, which inspired the last two parts.

Description: Benjicot resorts to drastic measures to win back his lady's trust and love, having accidentally placed doubt in her mind as to his true intentions.

Part 7

Playlist:

Gold Rush~ Taylor Swift

The Way I Loved You~ Taylor Swift

How You Get The Girl~ Taylor Swift

Adore You ~ Harry Styles

Warnings: female reader. Nothing else I don't think. Robb being an iconic twink with access to the blueprints for Bracken Hall and too much sass for Westeros to handle.

"Let me get this absolutely crystal clear in my mind. You described your union as 'mutually beneficial'!" Robb cried incredulously, striking Benjicot on the shoulder from behind, as he sat slumped onto a desk in the library of his ancestral seat. 

The glow cast by the lit lanterns, attached to the ancient stone walls, cast shadows over his face which bore signs of the deepest distress. 

"It sounds beyond reprehensible when you repeat those words, words which I most bitterly regret. I did not mean them in the way that both yourself and my lady have interpreted them, but it makes them no less acrid when you repeat them." He responded dejectedly, slumping his head once again upon the desk. 

Mumbling almost incomprehensibly so that Robb had to tilt his head down towards his friend to hear him. 

"What can I do to make amends? She hates me. I fear she will never speak to me again." 

Robb cast a contemptuous look at his friend before retorting. 

"You bloody fool. Not only did you make her sound to even my indulgent ears like a prize to be bartered between Houses, but you also did so with the very fiend from whose taunts you once defended her. Can you not see that you have made a shy, sweet girl who loved and trusted you feel as if the one person who she believed cared for her and would protect her above all others was nothing more than a cipher of the bullies she has sought to shield herself from?!" 

Seeing Benjicot's increasingly pained expression, as he roughly gripped his hair in both hands, Robb relented a little. 

"The damage you have done in your carelessness will be very difficult to remedy. You must show her that you love her and value her above all else. Words are not enough." 

Lifting his head, Benjicot's expression became resolved as he turned it to meet his friend. 

"I will, even if she will never again allow me to be in her presence," He struggled to continue, the thought causing him physical pain, "I must at the very least convince her that my love for her was never a lie. I cannot bear the thought that I have only cemented her insecurities. That I have born my own part in making her feel as if I mocked her...just like her contemptuous cousin." 

At this, he began to rise.

"I must see her." 

Perking up at this and slapping his friend approvingly on the back, Robb moved to lift his sword from the table and responded. 

"Glad to hear it. I'll get the Lads together and we can defend your flank whilst you hop over the border and get on your knees to beg your lady for forgiveness, you're favourite past time I know." 

Looking at him with mild irritation, Benjicot rose, placing a firm hold on Rob's shoulder. 

"Whilst I greatly appreciate the support, I must go myself. She's shy and frightened enough of me, after my misdemeanor, and I don't want you and your cronies scaring her off before I can even apologise." 

Laughing at this, Robb retorted smugly. 

"More likely you're afraid of her falling in love with me. Fear not, my interests lie in another direction entirely, but I'll hold off if you are determined. Of course Kermit will be devastated not to have a free shot at a Bracken, but I will assuage him." 

With this, Benjicot nodded at his friend before rising quickly and striding from the room, through the halls of Raventree as he continued to ruminate with anguish on the distressed face of his lovely lady and the part he had played in causing her distress. He would explain that he loved her and valued her above all else. That he meant every word he had said to her. That he would protect, serve and adore her if she would only let him, only forgive him. He would beg for her forgiveness, even if she could never herself love him again. It would be enough if she would only permit him to continue in her presence as a loyal knight.

It had been a day since Y/N had fled from the man she had come to trust and love, the only one she believed had ever cared for her and seen her as more than a shadow in the background of life....mistakenly. After Aeron had carried her back to her quarters in Bracken Hall she had locked her doors and allowed no visitors, barring her handmaiden. 

She spent the intervening hours between that of the previous days events and the advent of night on her balcony, her still pained ankle raised on a cushion on her chaise, as she read of Visenya. She was mentally and physically retreating to the shelter of her room and her books, determined never to open her heart to another person, as she had so foolishly done this time. She was silly to believe that Benjicot could love her for herself, rather than the political promise she could represent for him. She had trusted him where she had never invested anyone else with such trust. She had begun to gain in confidence in her dreams, her beliefs, and in his love, all for it to be shattered in a moment. Her embarrassment at having opened her heart to another person, to revealing herself so freely, where she was always so careful to be a shadowy presence in others' lives, was overwhelming, as she sunk further into her seat and further into herself. 

Wrapped in these painful thoughts, it was a few seconds before she heard a muffled voice calling her name from the direction of the dark expanse underneath her window. Rising carefully from her seat, using the pillars lining the portico of the balcony to balance herself as she moved towards the edge of it, she looked down to see the hopeful and desperate expression of the man she both hated and loved. Seeing her come into view, his face lit up with irrepressible delight, before quickly falling when she began to quickly turn away, book pressed protectively to her chest as she made to retreat to her room. She did not want to speak with him. 

Seeing her retreat, he quickly called out. 

"Please my love, please, I entreat you to let me explain what you overheard in the woods." 

Stopping where she was, she turned and moved once again back to the edge of the balcony. 

Speaking quietly and timidly, but not so much so that he could not hear her, accustomed as he was to listening for her quiet voice, she responded. 

"Please leave, I do not wish to speak with you now or henceforth. I can't understand why you are here now when you have made it abundantly clear that I myself am not what you seek. I would like you to leave."

Taking a deep, pained breath, Benjicot's expression underwent several changes before it became resolute and he stepped determinedly towards the pillar bolstering the balcony from the ground. 

Confused at his movements, Y/N became panicked when she realised he was climbing the pillar, frozen in position. It wasn't until he had swung his leg over the top of the balcony and had landed gracefully that she turned to flee, forgetting her injured ankle in the attempt, causing herself to stumble and hold onto a nearby pillar for support. Feeling gentle hands enclose around her elbows, she heard Benjicot speak quietly near her cheek. 

"Please don't run from me, my love. Your ankle is still injured. Please just allow me to help you." 

Looking down with concern at the ankle in question, he slowly, with great caution lest his lady should be offended, raised her arm around his neck and held her waist, fully supporting her weight so that he could place her on her chaise.  

Distressed to see his lady look away from him, her expression betraying embarrassment as well as displeasure, he knelt before her, bending his head low, before gently, reverently holding her hands in both of his own. 

"I will not disturb you further if you do not wish it, but I must convince you of the truth of my feelings for you and beg for your forgiveness for making you believe otherwise." 

Stopping him abruptly, Benjicot immediately desisted in deference to her speech, so important was anything she had to say to him, even if she meant only to order him away from her forever. 

Speaking quietly, she interrupted him. 

"I already heard what both you and my cousin said of me when you believed me not to be listening. I know that your protestations of love for me were all a ruse and that you were both in league together." 

Benjicot's expression betrayed the deep pain he felt at her response, drooping his head to rest it on her knees. 

"I can never apologise enough, nor beg for your forgiveness enough, for making you believe such a horrific notion. I had never spoken to your cousin of you before that dreadful moment, except when I first had the honour of meeting you. You were never just a bartering tool between us. I would break his legs if even tried to make such a suggestion. I had only meant to convey to him that I would repair the conflict between our houses so that in choosing me as your husband you would not also be choosing to abandon all that you knew. It is my mistake that I so brazenly worded my intent, my love." He added, casting his face down in desperation. 

"I have loved you since I first saw you sitting with your nose tucked into your histories under the Brackentree and have persued your love ever since. I have meant every word I have said to you since, and will continue to prove it to you in any way thay you will allow me."

His lady slightly turning towards him, Benjicot grew at once desperate and hopeful that she would listen to his entreaties, gripping her hands tighter in his as he raised his face to hers, hoping to convey the truth of his feelings in his eyes. 

"You speak very elegantly but I now know that you are so to all ladies and that this charade is not reserved for me alone." 

Reaching out to touch her face before quickly retracting his hand once he saw Y/N move away from him in discomfort, he instead responded. 

"Whilst I would consider myself to be a gentleman, there is only one lady I would traverse miles of enemy land and scale walls to get to." Saying this with a gentle smile, he continued to gaze upon her reverently. 

When she did not respond, he removed a brown leather volume from its place, stashed underneath his cloak. 

"I found this in my library and I thought it might be of interest to you." 

Hesitantly reaching to take the volume from his hand, she examined it before opening it. 

As she did so, he interposed "May I?" Pointing at the book. 

He turned the pages to an earmarked section, coloured with a rich illustration of a knight kneeling in homage before a queen. 

"This tells the story of a knight loyal to his queen above all else, swearing to protect, serve and..." He hesitated "love her for all of his life".

She gazed curiously down at the illustration in her hands as he spoke. 

"I thought you would like to have it, even should you order me away from your presence now. But I should like it to serve as an illustration of the devotion I feel towards you and as a reminder that I will always protect and adore you, even if only as your knight. Without any conditions. Without any expectation for you to love me in return. Just....let me adore you." He faltered staring up at her penitently, anxiously awaiting her response. 

It was a few agonising moments for Benjicot before Y/N raised her hand towards his shoulder, causing him to hold his breath lest he frighten her in his shock. Delicately placing her hand on his shoulder, she placed the other one on his other shoulder, causing him to subconsciously lean into her touch. 

Looking timidly away from him, she began to speak. 

"So you really did not mean that I was a...political tool." 

Leaning further towards her face, he quickly refuted such a notion. 

"I would thrash any man who suggested it. You are my lady, my love." 

Gazing into his eyes searchingly, she seemed to find what she sought in them, and leant her head gently upon his shoulder. 

Shocked, yet rejoicing at her affectionate gesture and in the comfort she seemed to look to from him, he lost no time in wrapping a protective arm around her waist, pulling her into his torso as he held her head gently in his other hand. Closing his eyes in relief, he held her like that for a few peaceful moments, scarcely believing that his love had forgiven him and that she had initiated their embrace. Taking it as a sign of the trust she had reinvested in him to protect her heart as well as her person, he solemnly swore in his own mind to guard it with more sucess than he had yet done as of late.

She pulled away too quickly for his liking, wishing as he did that she could always be so close to him.

"How did you even find your way here with impunity, let alone my balcony?"

Smirking at this, Benjicot threw his cloak dramatically over his shoulder to amuse her with his antics.

"I of course practiced great stealth, opting for a cloak and daggers approach."

Raising a disapproving eyebrow at him but with her mouth turned up at the corner, Benjicot rejoiced to have made her smile and to have amused her.

"In truth i just walked past the Red Ford and straight until i found Bracken Hall, i wasn't too worried about encountering any Bracken men. I'd just run them through if they tried to prevent me from reaching my Love. As far as finding your balcony goes, i was just blessed to see your pretty person upon it....and my good friend Robb also has an encyclopedic knowledge of Bracken Hall, having planned to storm it so many times." He added, slightly sheepishly.

Rolling her eyes at him, lightly swatting his chest.

"You're crazy."

Smirking again he rose to put his arm against the wall by her face, leaning his face towards hers.

"Crazy about you."

"And ridiculous," she added, laughing.

Reaching out to hold her chin gently in his other hand he leaned in further, before whispering in response "ridiculously in love with you", as his lips crashed onto hers, his arm moving to encircle her waist and support her weight as he did so.

Breaking the kiss, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, gazing up at her as if she were the sun. 

"Can i come and see you tomorrow?" He asked tentatively, unable to fully conceal his fear that she would still order him hence.

"I'd rather you didn't risk your life in such a dangerous attempt. I can always come to meet you."

Frowning at this, he stroked the back of her cheekbone with his nuckle. 

"You think i would allow my darling to cross that distance with an injured leg when i can cross it myself?"

Seeing her blush at his appellation, he smiled and reached forward to increase her blush by kissing the corner of her mouth.

"I think not. I have no fear of your Bracken bannermen. Although I do fear having to inform my disapproving lady love that i've despatched all of them because they tried to stop me from seeing her."

Benjicot walked away from his lady love's balcony that evening, not before blowing her a kiss, and silently rejoicing that she had forgiven him and permited him to remain in her presence and in her heart.

@lovebabe18-blog @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @drwho-ess @dancingbaek @aemondslove @cheendrella

[solar-wing]

⚣ Open Arms ♾️

⚣♾️ A/N → yall betta love my butt from dawn till dusk and kiss it from dusk till dawn. 25K WORDS?!?!?! EXCUSE ME?! Anyway, another request done! This was an anonymous one, though that I got from my previous account but never did. So, whoever sent this in, I hope you see and enjoy it! Gotta say, it definitely feels good getting these requests out of my inbox. Well, my screenshots, at least. I used this request as a continuation of a previous fic I did, which you can read here: ⚣ Forever 💛 You can read this as a standalone, but I recommend reading the previous part beforehand for context. ALSO HERE'S THE ANGST YALL WANT SO BAD FROM ME YOU FIENDS! NOW GET🤺 GET🤺 BACK I SAY🤺 WARNINGS: Mentions of Death | Angst/Comfort | Emotional Fluffy Vibes | TW: Neglectful Parenting | Implied smexy stuff but compared to what I write, it's literally nothing | ETC

⚣♾️ Summary → Conner couldn't let it go; wouldn't let it go. He was out there somewhere, lost and afraid. His instincts have never lied to him in the past, and he was certain they weren't starting now, no matter how much the Team thought he was holding on to lost hope. They made a promise to each other, and Conner planned on keeping that promise no matter what.

⚣♾️ Words → 25.6K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY ♾️

How long is forever?

By definition: it means ‘for all future time; for always.’ Another line says ‘lasting or permanent.’ That’s what it was supposed to mean by the books at least. When he promised he would stay forever, that’s what he was supposed to do. That’s what he should've done.

Guess not all promises were meant to be kept, and words were really just that, words. No power to them at all.

Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword, Conner wanted to meet that guy just to show him how wrong he was, possibly with an actual sword if he had his way, but, hopefully, that wouldn’t happen.

Hopefully.

It had been over a year since Y/N’s disappearance. A year since he up and blinked out of Conner’s life, his friend's lives, and so on. There wasn’t a day that the young superhero didn’t find himself dreaming or thinking about Y/N. He’d catch himself frequently getting lost in remembering the way his smile always put him in a good mood.

When he was happy, Conner was happy.

Truthfully, he felt as if everything that happened before he met the young super was less significant now. Everything that happened before the two met didn’t matter anymore. Only what happened then and in the future.

Not even the day when Dick, Wally, and Kal found him at Cadmus and set him free. Or when Batman and the Justice League set him and his new friends up with their own headquarters and stealth team. Not even the day when he finally seemed to have Superman’s acceptance and bond as a mentor and family figure.

Before Y/N, life was just that; life. Something where he got up every day, worked out or trained with the team, went to school, beat up bad guys, and then went home to do it again. All those were supposed to be exciting things, for him at least, since those were things he never had or would’ve gotten to experience had it not been for his ‘liberation.’

At the time, that could’ve meant something special to him. But then some new guy stumbled into his life and fucked everything up.

“Heard we’re supposed to be getting a new recruit,” Wally mentioned as he and Kal were currently sparring in the training circle.

“Yeah, me too, or at least I read about it. Saw his file on the Batcave and read over it. There wasn’t much detail in there besides a little bit of his background. He goes to that really prestigious boarding school in the Midwest and his family is one of the most elite and wealthiest families on the East Coast.” Robin said as he was typing away at the computer.

“Great. Another spoiled rotten rich kid on the team. Sounds awesome,” Artemis uttered while organizing her arrow pack.

“Hey, I’m not rotten!” The Boy Wonder responded, feigning offense.

“Ah, but you weren’t offended by the spoiled rich part. Point still stands then,” Artemis smirked.

“Why do we even need another person? It’s not like we’re lacking or anything.” Conner proclaimed, his arms crossed in his usual defiant manner as his face held not an ounce of joy on it.

“I don’t know, I think it’d be nice to have a new member as a part of the team. It’s always great to meet new people. And who knows, maybe they can help us be even better.” M’Gann spoke.

“So you think we’re bad and need improvement,” Conner responded with an accusatory tone.

“No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I just don’t think it’s bad if we learn from other people.” She responded, though slightly more irritable than before.

Part of the reason why she had no problem when Conner proposed they split up and just remain friends/teammates was not having to deal with his mood swings and attitude all the time. Don’t get her wrong though, he was a great boyfriend, inside and outside. But, it was clear to her that she was not a high priority on Conner’s radar.

Superboy was still getting to know who he was and understanding his place in this world, and that came with understanding his emotions and how they responded to certain situations. As time passed, he realized his ‘feelings’ or what he thought were feelings for the Martian girl were nothing more than platonic.

A byproduct of his exposure to the outside world, and society’s definition of a ‘normal’ relationship, which usually consisted of a handsome, strong fella and a nice, pretty gal. He figured that was the role he had to take on. However, after some time, realizing how forced and unhappy he felt with the role he placed himself in, it created a wedge between the two superheroes, thus prompting them to end their relationship on good terms.

Conner had things he needed to work through, and M’Gann wanted someone who put her first before anything else.

“I agree with M’Gann. Meeting different people and learning from their stories is always a valuable lesson. You never know how they could impact you in the present and the future,” Kal commented after beating Wally in their match, the floor lighting up to announce the speedster’s defeat.

Conner only let out a displeased grunt in response before the sound of the Zeta Gateway activating caught his and everyone else’s attention.

Everyone was a little apprehensive about adding a new member to the Team in the beginning, even M’Gann and Kaldur despite their positive attitudes. They had a dynamic, a flow that worked for them, and they were all more or less living by the line of thinking that if something wasn’t broken, why try and fix it?

But, change was inevitable. And, this change may have been something they all could happily get used to, seeing how the recruit seemed to tame their hot-headed Kryptonian the moment he walked into the mission room.

Okay, not tame in a way like he was an animal, but more in the manner of calming down. It was no secret that everyone knew Superboy had a bit of a temper and given his biology and nature, Wally once made a joke that they all should bring hard hats to the Cave just in case Conner was in a bad mood and needed to punch something.

He didn’t find it amusing, but he also couldn’t deny the truth of it. It became something the Kryptonian sort of obsessed over and wanted to change about himself. Especially in front of the recruit who he couldn’t understand why for the life of him he cared so much about what they thought about him.

He didn’t even realize how much he was trying to show himself as a level-headed person in front of the new guy until M’Gann pulled him aside one day and asked why he was acting so weird.

He tried to deny it at first, claiming he wasn’t acting weird at all and M’Gann was reading too much into something that wasn’t there. As expected, the Martian didn’t let it go and decided to present evidence to back up her claim.

She brought up the first week Y/N spent at the Cave, and Conner didn’t necessarily come off as anxious, but everyone could tell he was nervous, which had them all puzzled. Before then, it was rare (try never) that any of them would see the Kryptonian nervous or anxious about something. And if he was, he’d usually mask it with anger or disdain.

Yet, after meeting the new hero on their team, something about all of that changed.

“I wonder what kind of abilities he has,” M’Gann wondered aloud, an excited look on her face as everyone stood by the entryway to the Zeta Gateway.

“There wasn’t anything recorded in the file on the Batcomputer. Maybe he’s another vigilante like Artemis and me.” Robin said.

“Hopefully, a better one than Bird Boy.” The snarky smirk the archer currently held was met with an unpleasant look from the Boy Wonder before their attention was redirected to the gateway, hearing the computer announcing their mentor's arrival.

Batman, Superman, and Flash came through one by one, while being followed by another individual none of them had recognized. The computer announced their name as a guest, which Robin figured was because he wasn’t fully registered into the Justice League systems yet.

He had a puzzling feeling about why Batman was being more secretive around this individual, seeing as he usually puts every single detail he can find on a person of interest into a file. Plus, he would always have things like registrations and paperwork taken care of before anything else was done.

Not to say it made him suspicious, but he was curious.

The others waited patiently while their superiors came into the mission room, followed by the individual who was carrying a small designer duffle bag. His clothes and look were simple, and he held a genuine and curious look in his eyes, tinged with a bit of uncertainty that Superboy managed to pick up as well from how hard he was staring and analyzing the boy from the moment he walked in. Though, if you asked him, he’d most definitely say he was not staring.

It wasn’t obvious, as the guy took whatever measures he could to hide it, but he could tell the young man came from wealth. It was a familiar aesthetic and look that the Kryptonian had come to learn by being friends with Boy Wonder and all, even if he wasn’t necessarily born into a rich family.

Plus, through certain missions and social events his ‘status’ would get him into, he’d had his fair share of interactions and hand-shaking with those who had more money than they would ever need. He’d begun to learn their various looks and covers. Most were unpleasant, hiding underneath a vain and inflated sense of superiority. Something he almost could relate to at one point, considering he used to believe his powers and abilities put him above everyone.

This guy was different, though. Conner couldn’t put his finger on it, but something about him was intriguing. Nobody he had ever met before made the young Kryptonian feel whatever that Earth saying was he’d heard M’Gann rambling about one time. Something about butterflies in the stomach.

Why one would even eat a butterfly was beyond him. Yet, the feeling she described was exactly what Conner was feeling in his stomach at the moment. His first immediate thought was that his stomach was broken and it took Zatanna, Artemis, and M’Gann explaining it with the help of Black Canary that a week and a half later he was nervous or scared.

“Hello, everyone. As I’m sure you’re already aware, we’ve decided to recruit a new addition to your team. His name is Y/N, and he’ll be staying here at the Cave for a few weeks while we get more details situated. Y/N, meet your new team.”

Everyone introduced themselves one by one to the recruit, and since Conner was on the end, he was the last one to be greeted which he now regretted. He started going over in his head how he should say ‘hi’, not wanting to come off too aggressive where he scared him, but also not wanting to sound like he was some weakling.

It took getting an elbow shoved into his side from Robin for him to notice everyone looking at him, including the reason for his distantness.

“Oh, uh… Sorry. Hello, I’m Boysuper.”

Everyone started laughing, including Superman and Flash, and Conner swore he saw a hint of a chuckle from Batman as well. It wasn’t until he thought back on his words and realized his mistake that he blushed embarrassingly. Though everyone found it funny, they were all more or less completely thrown off.

This behavior was completely out of character for Boysuper! If someone were writing a character analysis of him, they’d say this was completely unimaginable and not realistic at all. It wasn’t anything like him or something he would do.

Which is exactly what made it all the more shocking and funny.

Y/N, also tickled by the name mistake, gave him grace and just pretended it didn’t happen.

“Hi Superboy, nice to meet you.” His smile was something that clouded Conner's thoughts, focusing in on the innocence in his face and the twinkle in his eye as he looked back into the Kryptonian’s eyes.

For a fleeting moment, Superboy forgot everyone else was there as he reached his hand out to shake the others. As far as he knew, Kryptonians didn’t sweat, yet his palms felt hot and they felt damp. He was almost scared to touch the boy’s hand, thinking the man would find him gross and disgusting perspiring in his palm.

It didn’t happen, though. They shook hands, and Conner got a weird tingle up his arms that had him freaking out even more on the inside. But, the smile on Y/N’s face kept him rooted. Kept him from leaping off the ground like a spooked cat who’d just been electrocuted.

Despite his nervous feelings, seeing the beautiful face smiling at him made him feel happy on the inside. It was a nice feeling, a very welcomed feeling. Something he wanted to cherish and protect forever.

Wait, did he say beautiful?

At some point, Black Canary along with Superman helped explain to Superboy what he was feeling of desire and attraction, and that it was completely normal to have those feelings, no matter who they were aimed at.

Artemis was a little less careful and just stated the simple truth.

“You’ve got a crush lover-boy.”

Everyone chuckled and laughed at the statement and the somewhat irony behind the revelation.

That day, Y/N changed his perspective on the meaning and purpose of life. Before, he didn’t see the significance in the saying ‘You only live once.’ True, you do only live once, but if you live to do the same thing over and over each day, then what’s the point of living at all?

What was the point of getting to know things or wanting to improve and get better at something when we all had the same eventual fate, give or take how many years it took for it to come? What did life really mean if all it had was for you to wake up and do the same thing you did yesterday and the day before that?

It was one of the constant questions he had mulled over in his head since his liberation from Cadmus and being welcomed into the Team. His first and only purpose in life was to be a weapon. Now, besides doing good and saving the world now and then, he had the chance to do something meaningful with his life.

He just didn't know what meaningful was.

Until he met Y/N, who from the very moment they met had a way of bringing out the best in Conner and making him want to be a better person. It wasn't like the Kryptonian was a bad guy or anything. In fact, he was a great friend, teammate, and hero. But, there was something about the boy that just made him want to be a better version of himself.

Even despite the rocky start to their relationship.

"I'm telling you, there's something up with that kid. Batman said something about them needing to do 'more tests' and that he couldn't return back until they were sure he wouldn't be a liability," Conner spoke with his teammates in one of the library rooms in their base.

Conner had recently overheard a conversation between Y/N and Batman when he was going to try and 'confess' his feelings for him as his friends had encouraged him to do, even M'Gann. But, those plans were halted when he overheard the Dark Knight talking to the recruit about tests and making sure they wouldn't be bugged.

He mentioned something about the school Y/N was attending and how they also had to make sure his parents wouldn't be a liability or get caught in the crossfire. The biggest thing that caught the Kryptonian's attention was when Batman said he had to absolutely keep his full identity a secret from the rest of the team, especially from Conner himself.

And, no matter how sad and reluctant Y/N sounded when he agreed to Batman's instructions and feeling a strong urge to comfort him, he didn't waste a second before running back to his friends and telling them everything. After the Red Tornado ordeal with his siblings, he didn't want to take any chances, no matter how his heart felt.

Everyone seemed on the fence though when he first told them. They all had gotten along really well with Y/N during his first few days and didn't want to think the guy could be a threat to him. But, they'd all learned from their mistakes in the past, and so decided they needed more information before they proceeded with anything.

Dick had pointed out that there still wasn't much in Y/N's file that he could find besides his background. The only solid things he was able to find were about his parents and how they shared very similar views with Lex Luthor on supers. It wasn't enough for them to outright accuse him of being up to no good but it was something for them to look into.

The Boy Wonder suggested the best way to learn more about him was to spy on him, and despite how much it didn't feel right to Conner, he agreed to do it. They know confronting him directly wasn't the best strategy, especially if he was being told by Batman to not reveal anything to them. They needed to be covert.

That's what led them to this moment right now. Conner had just overheard another of Y/N's conversations, only this time he was talking to his parents. Everything seemed fine at first, despite the obvious fact that his parents had no clue their son was currently living in a cave with a bunch of teenage superheroes and vigilantes. The Kryptonian was ready to call it quits, already feeling guilty enough for listening in on such a private conversation until...

"Yeah, everything's great at the school. I'm having a lot of fun and have met some very interesting people. And, yes, Uncle Lex has been really nice to me. His tests have been effective so far and he's confident he'll reach a solution soon."

That confirmed everything the Kryptonian and the others needed to know. They were all convinced Y/N was a mole sent here to spy on them and the Justice League for Lex Luthor. They were going to bring it to Batman, but Dick once again pointed out the conversation Conner heard earlier between the Dark Knight and the recruit, and that he was probably already aware of everything and was investigating on his own.

But this was their team, and they were going to do whatever they could to protect it. So, they decided to set up a trap for the mole.

Dick created a fake mission while Wally, Artemis, and Zantanna went to recruit Y/N to come with them. They spun a fake story about the League being in danger and that they needed all hands on deck. Of course, Y/N was willing to help them. He didn't ask questions and just followed them to where they were supposed to meet up with the others.

They had to wait for a few minutes for everyone else to arrive. Y/N was sitting on the ground, waiting patiently and trying to make conversation with everyone. When they finally arrived, Dick began his 'fake' briefing.

He decided to trust them, but something still felt off. And he didn't know why, but the look Conner was giving him let him know he wasn't being given the full truth.

"Alright, team. We have a situation. The League has been compromised and we're the only ones who can save them."

"What's going on?" Y/N asked, confused.

"The League has been captured and is being held by Lex Luthor. We don't know what he's planning, we only know that they need our help," Dick explained, not even batting an eye at the ridiculousness of the situation he was describing.

"And, how do you know all this?" Y/N questioned, confused as to why Batman wasn't the one giving the briefing.

"Batman told us before he got captured. He managed to send us a signal before Luthor's goons cut him off. We're the only ones who can help," Artemis added.

"How do we know they're really in trouble?" Y/N inquired, looking at everyone and their lack of gear or weapons.

"We have to trust Batman," Wally answered, trying his best to act as natural as possible.

"I don't know, guys. Something doesn't feel right about this," Y/N muttered, trying to figure out what was happening.

"Y/N, we're the only ones who can save Batman, the Flash, and the others. We need you," M'Gann pleaded, placing her hand on his shoulder.

Y/N was hesitant, not sure if what they were saying was true. He thought back on his conversation with Batman and how he made him promise not to tell the team about him and his family until they had everything figured out. But, if he was really in danger...

"Okay. Let's go."

And that's how Y/N found himself tied to a tree in a random park near his boarding school. A convenient location, the others thinking it would trick a confession out of the mole. But, when Y/N instead was warning them that by bringing him there, they were putting not only him in danger, but themselves and the League.

They didn't believe him at first, thinking this was just the cover story he was using if he got caught. But, then Batman, Superman, and the Flash found the young team of heroes and vigilantes would soon realize their mistake.

"Tell us the truth, now! Why are you here?" Kaldur demanded.

"I'm telling you I don't know what you're talking about," Y/N insisted.

"How dumb do you think we are? We know you're working with Lex Luthor. Just admit it!" Artemis spat, annoyed that the boy was trying to lie to their faces.

"Yeah!" Wally added, throwing peanuts from his snack compartment at the boy's face.

"Seriously, KF?" Dick said.

"What? Maybe if he has a peanut allergy, this will make him fess up."

"I don't have a peanut allergy."

"Oh, well. Now, it's just for fun," Kid Flash said before throwing more at him.

"Okay, this is just getting ridiculous. We know you're working with Luthor. I overheard your little conversation with your parents about Uncle Lex's tests," Conner said, his tone carrying its usual hard edge, but not as much aggression as it would be for someone else.

"You were eavesdropping on me?"

"That's not important. What's important is you confessing what you're doing here. What are you trying to do? What's your mission?"

"I don't have a mission. I don't know what you're talking about and what you overheard, you heard out of context," Y/N stated, the last part aimed at Conner who looked away from his hurt gaze.

"Y/N, please," M'Gann pleaded.

"I'm telling you the truth. I'm not working for anybody, and even if I was, it wouldn't be with Lex Luthor of all people. But, we seriously need to leave. We're not too far from the school, and if he finds out I was here, with all of you out of all people, it's going to cause more trouble than ever."

"Alright, Zatanna. Truth spell him..."

"He's already telling the truth."

Everyone turned around to see Batman, Superman, and Flash approaching with not-very-pleased looks. Then again, when has Batman ever looked pleased?

"Then, why didn't you tell us?" Dick asked with an accusatory tone toward his mentor.

"Because we didn't want this to happen," Flash stated, looking over at Y/N and the mess their young protegees made.

"What, so you don't trust us all of a sudden?" Artemis accused.

"This had nothing to do with trust, it had everything to do with a delicate situation."

"What situation?" Wally asked.

"A delicate one," Batman reiterated.

"Y/N is being used by Lex Luthor," Superman began explaining.

"So, he's not a mole?" M'Gann asked.

"No, he's not a mole. He's actually the exact opposite. His family is a known affiliate of Lex Luthor, and he's been using their known distrust of Superman, myself, and the rest of the League as a way to perform experiments on him with the promise of removing his powers at the request of his parents. However, someone like Lex, we can be sure has other purposes for these experiments. Purposes he intends to use for his own advantage and as a means to target the League," Batman continued.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Conner questioned, feeling even more guilty while glancing back at the recruit who was currently rubbing his wrists, having been freed from his restraints by Superman.

"Because we didn't want you getting involved. Lex has eyes and ears everywhere, especially in that school, and if he were to discover our involvement, it could put Y/N and his family in danger," The older Kryptonian pointed out, while placing a reassuring hand on the younger male's shoulder, who held a slightly worried look at the mention of his parents being put in possible danger.

Despite his still guilty feelings, something in him felt he should have gone over to comfort the younger male. He along with the rest of his teammates apologized to Y/N for their distrust before making their way back to Mount Justice.

Since everything was out in the open, Batman gave Y/N the okay to share with the others everything about his background. And share he did. He told the entire story of how everything came to be.

His parents had always been more or less distrusting towards Superman, The Flash, Wonder Woman, etc., and saw their powers and abilities not as ways that could help protect regular people like themselves and others, but as a means to oppression. They felt the very thing that made them superheroes gave them an unfair advantage over others.

Kind of how other people saw their super wealthy status as an unfair advantage over people of a lower class but that's another discussion for another day.

So imagine their surprise when their very own son ended up manifesting his own powers early on in his childhood. It started with small things like enhanced durability and moving at inhuman speeds.

But then, when it turned into being able to fly and manipulating energies in his teenage years, his parents had had enough. They were afraid their son was going to become just like the superheroes they hated so much. And, they were afraid of what he could do if his powers became too out of control.

So, they did the only thing they could think of.

They turned to Lex Luthor for help.

They told him about their situation and how they were desperate for help. They didn't want their son to be a danger to himself or others. Lex promised them he'd do everything he could to help their son and to try and remove his abilities.

The wealthy elite suggested sending him to one of the prestigious boarding schools that he funded. It was a school that catered to kids with extraordinary talents and abilities. They would provide him with an excellent education and would have the best teachers and professors teach him.

As a bonus, they were very confidential and private with their students and wouldn't share any information without explicit consent. That meant even if his parents were to come by and ask, they wouldn't be able to say anything, thus keeping their son's secret abilities safe.

However, they were none the wiser to Lex's true intentions. With these experiments, he'd finally have the advantage he needed to rid the world of Superman and the Justice League. But, of course, things wouldn't be that easy.

But, when Batman, Superman, and Flash came to his school in their civilian identities but still in disguise, they offered him the chance to truly understand and control his powers along with a spot to join their team of young superheroes as a new recruit. They also promised to find a way to end these experiments with Lex as Y/N explained that he hadn't met success with getting rid of them, but he did suspect he was up to no good, he just didn't know what to do as he knew his parents wouldn't listen to him.

It's why Batman also initially told him not to tell his new teammates anything about himself, at least until they found a way where Y/N could work and be protected from the experiments without putting his family at risk. Lex was known to be crafty and wouldn't hesitate to use the young teenager's parents as leverage to force him to comply

"Of course, I want to use my powers for good and help people. It's why I came with Batman and the others in the first place. But, not if it means I could put my parents in danger. Yeah, we have our differences, and they're not the most accepting of my abilities. But, they're still my family and I don't want anything bad to happen to them."

The others all felt for the young man and apologized again for their mistrust and promised to do whatever they could to help him out. They were a team after all, and a team sticks together through thick and thin.

Conner, on the other hand, still felt guilty for accusing him and even considering he was a mole. Y/N, however, was more understanding and forgiving than the Kryptonian thought he deserved.

"Ah, don't be too hard on yourself, Conner. If I were you, I would have probably done the same thing."

"Really? You don't hate me?"

"Why would I hate you? Sure, you accused me of being a spy for a supervillain, but it was only because you wanted to protect your team and the League. How can I hate you for that?"

Conner had been stunned by the younger male's response. He wasn't mad at him or even holding a grudge. He wasn't even holding the peanut incident against him. He was just so understanding. The Kryptonian knew if the situation were reversed, Y/N would be considered lucky if he hadn't blown up at him.

 It was then Conner realized that maybe he felt something more for the young man than just a simple crush.

He thought about how much he admired how positive and enduring Y/N was, despite the challenges he was overcoming. His parents not accepting him, being used as a pawn to hurt others, and the same people meant to protect and love him allowing it, despite them being ignorant to it. But, the younger male still held onto hope and wanted to use his powers for good. He saw the best in people and wanted to help them, no matter what.

Y/N had this infectious energy about him. He always did everything with a smile and a positive attitude, no matter how much his life proved to be the opposite of positive. Yeah, he was a bit naive, but despite all that, and all of the things he'd been subjected to, he was innocent and pure.

He was like an angel, a light shining in a sea of darkness. And, Conner wanted to be the person that light shined on. The Kryptonian wanted to protect and cherish him. He wanted to hold him in his arms and never let go. He wanted to love him.

And, Y/N wanted to love him back.

He didn't care that Conner's temper was a bit short or that he could be a bit stubborn and aggressive. He understood he was just a boy raised to be a weapon. He had been taught to view the world in a certain way, and it was only now that he was learning there was more to life than that.

He understood that despite his gruffness, it was just the way Conner had learned to live, and that deep down he was a very loving and caring person.

Of course, their eventual getting together was nothing like anyone had expected, despite them waiting for the two idiots to confess their obvious feelings for each other.

It had been about a month since the incident with the fake mission and the eventual truth about Y/N being revealed to the team. After returning to Mount Justice and going over some logistics with the rest of the Justice League, they all got a debriefing from Batman on what would happen from there.

They knew that they couldn't risk keeping him away too long, otherwise, Lex would get suspicious and alert his parents. So, Y/N would go back to school as per usual, but he'd be under the surveillance of a team of League members disguised as his teachers and other staff. They would keep an eye on him and Lex Luthor's experiments and if they became too much, they'd intervene.

Conner, however, was not happy about this arrangement. He wanted to be the one who would look out for the younger male, but the Dark Knight had other plans.

"I can't allow you to do that. If we have you constantly watching over him, it'll be too obvious. He'll be under constant surveillance and have League members watching over him at all times. You'll be too obvious, Conner."

"Then, I'll just go back with him. I can stay in the school, and watch over him. I won't leave his side."

"Conner, the school isn't equipped for a teenage boy with Kryptonian abilities. We can't allow you to be there with him. If you go, it'll just put him in more danger." Superman said, attempting to reason with him.

"But, what if he gets hurt? What if Luthor does something? What if..."

"Conner, please. I'm going to be fine. You heard what Batman and the others said. They're going to be right there with me and won't let anything happen. They'll protect me." Y/N said, placing a hand on the younger Krypontian's arm to reassure him.

"Besides, we've worked out a way to disrupt Lex's experiments. With the help of our scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs, we've created a dilution solution. Whatever Lex decides to inject him with, these solutions will work to nullify them. It'll give us more time to figure out a way to end these experiments for good and won't pose any risk to Y/N's powers." Batman explained.

Conner wasn’t happy with the idea, not one bit. But he knew he had no choice but to let Y/N go with it, no matter how much he hated it.

"Of course, he'll still be a part of this team. We're setting up a new Zeta Gateway near the school, and one of our agents will make sure he gets there safely and without alerting Lex. Y/N will come here after his classes and sessions with Lex to report anything new as well as keep his training up."

With that, Black Canary and Captain Marvel came forward with a box, handing it over to Y/N with a smile. The young man opened it excitedly to find a brand new super-suit, specially made and tailored for him.

"Welcome to the Team, Primus."

The other members congratulated him with cheers, hugs, and claps, a little bit more enthusiastically than they would have with someone else, but it was deserved. He'd already shown to be an amazing member of the team and an amazing friend, and they were happy to have him.

They celebrated later that day on the beach, before Y/N's eventual departure. Batman made it seem as if he was on a vacation with his parents while he was here at Mount Justice, so he knew he'd have to return eventually to prevent any eyes from getting raised.

Everyone was having fun, playing, swimming, and laughing. At some point, they all ended up lounging around on the sand, laying or sitting on their various blankets and chairs while watching the sun slowly descend towards the horizon, signaling the closer approach of Y/N's leaving.

"I have a question," Y/N suddenly said, "I had meant to ask this before after everything that happened last month but kept forgetting. When Batman told me to keep my background a secret from you all, he specifically kept telling me to not tell Conner about my connection to Lex. Why?"

Everyone looked around at each other, before settling their gaze on Conner, who looked down at the ground with his eyebrows furrowed.

"Well, it's a bit of a long story," Dick began, not wanting the boy to feel awkward with his question.

"I'm Superman's clone," Conner interrupted, silencing not just the Boy Wonder but everyone around him as he continued, "I was made in a lab from the DNA of both Superman and Lex Luthor to be a weapon against the Justice League. I'm not an actual person, and if it wasn't for these guys, I'd still be in Cadmus, probably sitting in a pod right now."

Y/N seemed taken aback, not saying anything as Conner continued to look down at the sand in shame. He was afraid of revealing the truth to Y/N, thinking he wouldn't see him as an actual person.

However, he, along with everyone else, was more than shocked at his response.

"Wow, you are a miracle to all the gays around the world."

There was a beat of silence before a chorus of laughter erupted around them. Wally, Artemis, and Dick did nothing to hide their hysteria while Zatanna and Kaldur attempted to conceal their own chuckles. M'Gann and Conner were both confused, but the Martian laughed as well, while the Kryptonian was just looking at the younger male in front of him, his cheeks turning red.

"I-I don't know what that means."

"Let's just say I know some people who kill to have someone like you in their lives. You're more special than you know," Y/N answered, smiling at him.

Conner was shocked, not expecting that response.

"You don't think less of me?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

"Because of what I am. What I was made for and who I was made from."

"I don't care about any of that. You're you, and you're the one that makes you, you. Not what other people made you to be if that makes sense," Y/N said with a humorous, confused look that Conner couldn't help but smile at," You're a person, Conner, and I think you're amazing," Y/N looked at the Kryptonian with a smile who had the blush on his face returning even more.

"Thank you."

"Hey, guys. The sun is going down. We should take a picture," Dick suddenly said, pointing out the setting sun.

They all gathered around for a group photo, Y/N and Conner being the closest, with the younger male leaning into the Kryptonian. It was a great moment for all of them, and the perfect way to start their journey as a team.

Eventually, the sun had set and it was time for Y/N to make his departure. He made his goodbyes to everyone, promising he would be back soon before eventually stopping in front of Conner who nervously looked down at the boy, his emotions still all over the place from their previous conversation.

"Can I actually talk to you in private before you go?" The Kryptonian asked.

Y/N looked a little shocked and turned to Batman who gave his nod of approval, "You've got five minutes."

The two boys walked a bit away from the group, the others looking on with eager faces and eyes as they not so subtly tried to see what was happening.

"Um, I just wanted to apologize again for everything that happened. I know it was stupid, but I didn't want anything bad to happen to the Team or the League. And, I thought if there was a chance you could be a mole or something, I needed to find out. But, I realized that it was stupid, and I was just being paranoid..."

Without even realizing it, Conner began to ramble and Y/N had to take his hand to get him to stop talking, "Conner, it's okay. I told you, I already forgave you for that. And, remember, I was the one who said you were justified in doing it. You were trying to protect your team and that's something I respect and admire."

"You do?" Conner asked, feeling a bit hopeful.

"Of course, I do. You were willing to do anything to protect the people you care about, and that's admirable. I could never hold that against you. My own parents don't trust me just because I have powers and sent me away to a boarding school to be experimented on in hopes of getting rid of them. You only reacted the way you did because you were worried about the people you cared about and loved. Something only a real person is capable of doing," Y/N said.

Conner didn't know what had come over him, but the feeling of Y/N's hands in his own and the sincerity of his words had him pulling the younger male in for a deep kiss, his lips fitting perfectly against his own.

Y/N was surprised, but after a moment, he wrapped his arms around Conner's neck and deepened the kiss, not even realizing the shocked expressions of the people around them.

"It's about time," Artemis muttered.

Y/N had left back to his school and sessions with Lex and returned to Mount Justice within a month where he'd reported everything that had happened. The dilutions were working for the most part and Lex was none the wiser from what he could tell.

And once the Zeta Gateway was set up, Y/N was able to return every other night or when he was needed for a mission. It gave him the time he needed with the Black Canary and the other League members to test and train his powers.

Conner, on the other hand, had a new drive. He was less of the brooding and angry teen he used to be and was a lot more caring and less abrupt and aggressive. Y/N had made him want to do better, to be better than he was before.

And with their new relationship, Conner was more determined than ever to protect Y/N and keep him safe, no matter what. As far as the Kryptonian was concerned, no one would be allowed to hurt him. Not Lex Luthor, not his parents, no one.

Their relationship developed and deepened very quickly during their time together with the two becoming nearly inseparable. When Y/N would come to the Cave, Conner would frequently join in on his training sessions with Black Canary, and he would realize how fast of a learner his boyfriend was.

Within a couple of months, he was able to adapt and adjust to his powers, growing more confident and powerful. He was even able to keep up with the Kryptonian's own speed and strength, something that impressed the others.

"I can't believe how much he's improved in such a short amount of time," Dick said.

"Yeah, he's been doing well. I've never seen anyone adapt to their powers so quickly," Wally added.

"Yeah, well. With the right motivation, I think anyone can do anything," Kaldur said, watching the two lovers spar with each other while shirtless from across the room.

"Yeah, I bet," Artemis said, watching the two as well.

"Conner's become really protective of him," M'Gann said.

"Yeah, well. When you're dating a guy with superpowers by someone who's kind of your arch-nemesis, you tend to get a bit protective," Dick pointed out.

"You think we should do something about it?" Wally asked.

"What do you mean?" M'Gann questioned.

"I don't know. It just seems like Conner's gotten a bit more possessive than usual. I mean, Y/N can't even go to school without him worrying. And, he's always asking about him and his progress with his powers. It's like he's obsessed or something."

"Well, it's not like he's done anything wrong," Zatanna pointed out, "We don't even know what's going to happen with his parents and Luthor. I mean, imagine how Conner must feel when Y/N has to go back to the school and those experiments and he can't do anything about it."

"Plus, the fact his family is essentially allowing this, whether they know about the full situation or not," Kaldur added.

"Yeah. I mean, the guy was practically raised in a lab and was used as a weapon by that same jerk. So, the idea of his boyfriend's family being involved with his arch-nemesis would definitely get his panties in a twist," Artemis added

"Well, hopefully, we can figure something out soon. I'm not sure how much longer Conner can handle it."

"I think we should just let things play out. If it gets to a point where it's affecting our missions or our teamwork, then we can intervene. But, for now, I think we should just let them be," Kaldur said, ending the conversation.

As if on cue, the two boys finished their sparring match, with Y/N pinning Conner down against the floor.

"I win," Y/N said with a smile.

"Only because I let you," Conner replied.

"No, you didn't. You just couldn't handle me. I'm just too fast and strong for you," Y/N teased before letting them both up.

"Oh, yeah? Well, let's see who's too fast and strong now," Conner said before grabbing Y/N and throwing him over his shoulder.

The Kryptonian carried him around the room, his boyfriend laughing and protesting while the others just rolled their eyes.

"Alright lovebirds, that's enough flirting. We've got a mission," Dick said.

"Yes Father," Y/N replied sarcastically before having the Kryptonian put him down who had a disgruntled face at being interrupted, "Stop pouting, you big baby."

"I'm not pouting," Conner mumbled.

"You're totally pouting."

"I'm not."

"You are."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"No."

"Yes."

"Haha! I win!" Y/N said before giving Conner a peck on the cheek, causing the Kryptonian to smile while his boyfriend checked his phone, "Oh Crap, I didn't realize how late it was. I have to get back to the school."

"Do you have to go?" Conner asked, his arms wrapping around his waist.

"You know I do. We don't want to alert anyone. I promise I'll be back later, okay?" Y/N said, cupping the Kryptonian's face.

Conner nodded before leaning down and capturing the younger male's lips in a sweet kiss.

"I'll see you later."

"Bye, babe."

"See you later, Y/N," The others called out as the young male made his way to the Zeta Gateway.

"Man, I don't know how he does it. If I had a boyfriend like Conner, I don't think I'd ever leave," Artemis said.

"Yeah, well. I think the only reason he's able to is because of the fact that he's being experimented on by his parents' best friend and his parents are okay with it. He wants to be there to protect his parents and keep them safe, despite what they're doing," Dick pointed out.

"I hope we can find a solution soon," Wally said, "I can't imagine what Conner's feeling."

"Yeah, we'll figure something out," Kaldur said, before they made their way to the mission briefing.

Things continued on like that for almost a little over a year. During the day, Y/N would attend his classes and sessions with Lex while still taking the dilutions S.T.A.R. Lab made for him. Then, at night, he traveled back to Mount Justice for training, any missions he was needed on, and to provide updates to the League while they worked on shutting the experiments for good.

He'd come far in his development and was no longer the helpless kid who had no control over his powers. He was now a superhero in his own right and had become a very important member of the team.

Plus, he and Conner were as close as could be, deeply in love with each other and always together. The Kryptonian was still a bit protective and possessive of the younger male, but not to the point where it was interfering with the team. If anything, it had the opposite effect.

When they were out in the field, Conner was more determined and focused than ever, especially if Y/N was involved.

He still went out of his way to make sure the younger male was safe, even taking on the responsibility of walking him back to his campus at night, in disguise of course. Batman objected to it at first, but knowing how stubborn Conner was, especially when it came to Y/N, he decided to allow it.

And that's where Y/N got to discover the jealous side of his boyfriend when they ran into his roommate one night the Kryptonian escorted him back.

"Hey, Y/N. Who's this?"

"Oh, this is CJ, my boyfriend. CJ, this is my roommate, Mason." Y/N said.

Conner gave his boyfriend a look at the fake name before turning back to the other present male, "Nice to meet you," he said, a bit more gruff than he intended.

"Same here. I'm glad to finally meet you, Y/N's told me a lot about you. Well, when he's here."

"I'm sure," Conner replied, trying not to sound as jealous as he was.

"Well, I'm gonna head back. I'll see you back in our room, Y/N" Mason said.

Conner did not like how suggestive that sounded and was glaring daggers into the retreating boy's back. He should have considered himself lucky that the Kryptonian didn't have heat vision, otherwise he'd be a pile of ash on the ground.

"You okay, babe?" Y/N asked, seeing his boyfriend's expression.

"I don't like him," Conner stated.

"Why? Because he's my roommate?"

"Yes. He's your roommate. And he's a guy. A guy who spends a lot of time around you. A guy who sleeps in the same room as you and knows you have a boyfriend. A guy who probably has a crush on you and is probably fantasizing about you being with him right now."

"Conner, you're being ridiculous," Y/N said, rolling his eyes.

"I am not. I know what guys like him are thinking about. He wants to get into your pants."

"So, what? Do you think I'm just going to let him? Or that I'm not capable of fending him off?"

"I know you can, but that doesn't mean he won't try. And, I don't like the idea of you being alone with him. You need to switch rooms."

"What? Just for me to end up in another room with another guy?"

"Doesn't this place offer single rooms?"

"Yes, but they're for seniors only."

"What about CO-ED?"

"I-... Really, Conner?"

"What kind of prestigious institution is this? Fine, you're moving into the Cave then, and you'll share my room with me. Your actual boyfriend."

"Conner, I can't..."

"Why not?"

"Because it's not safe. If I'm not here, my parents will get suspicious. What if they try and contact me, and I'm not here? They'll get worried and call Lex, and then he'll get suspicious. I can't risk it."

Conner sighed, knowing his boyfriend was right.

"Have I mentioned how much I don't like your parents?" Conner muttered.

"Yes, you have. Multiple times."

"Good."

That wouldn't be the last time Conner would suggest Y/N moving into the Cave, and no matter how much the younger male wanted to, he knew he had to stay at the school.

In their time together, Y/N had become one of the most, if not, the most important people in the Kryptonian's life. He was the light in the darkness, and Conner couldn't imagine his life without him.

However, the strain of the situation was beginning to show.

Lex had started to increase the intensity and frequency of the experiments, and Batman and the other League members weren't having much luck trying to figure out how to stop them. They weren't having much luck with Y/N's parents either, trying to subtly change their views on the League and Lex Luthor to help them see the potential mess they were creating by allowing these experiments to happen, but it was to no avail.

Conner could feel himself getting angrier and more impatient. He wanted to protect Y/N and help him in any way he could and was tired of not being able to do anything.

He'd also become frustrated with the League and his teammates. They were so focused on making sure they didn't make things worse that they were neglecting the actual problem.

When Y/N started slipping in training and showing signs of ill effects, Conner became even more worried and stressed every time the boy left back for school. Not being able to know if something happened to him while he was there was driving the boy up the wall, and as a result, he became more persistent in his efforts to get Y/N to stay in the Cave where he could protect him.

None of them were successful of course. But, things were slowly getting more out of control and dangerous, and Conner didn't know how much more he could take before he lost it.

"Y/N, keep up! Come on," Black Canary shouted as she ran the team through different training drills.

Batman and Superman were also there observing the training. They were there to discuss potential updates to the situation after meeting with the League, but they, especially the Kryptonian showed signs of worry at the younger superhero's seemingly exhausted state.

"He's been training a lot lately. Maybe he's just tired," M'Gann suggested.

"Maybe, but this is unusual. Even for him," Dick said.

"He's been a bit off lately," Artemis added.

"Maybe it's because of the experiments," Wally suggested.

"We don't know that," Kaldur said.

"Well, what else could it be? You saw how he was acting yesterday. He was exhausted, and his powers were all over the place. He's not getting any better. If anything, he's getting worse," Artemis said.

Her words kept everyone silent as none of them could deny the obvious fact sitting in front of them. It didn't help that Conner was already upset about the situation as a whole and the fact that the League had allowed it to go on as long as it did was only making his anger worse, something everyone could see.

"Alright, that's enough for today," Black Canary finally said.

"Are you sure? We still have some time left," Zatanna asked.

"We can finish up tomorrow. I think we all need a break. We've been working hard lately and need some time to ourselves. You can come down, Y/N!"

"I agree," Superman said, "You guys have been doing great. You deserve some time to yourselves."

"I'm going to go see if Y/N is alright," Conner said.

"Maybe we should let him rest for a bit, Conner," M'Gann said.

"What? Why? He's my boyfriend which makes him my concern. So, I'm going to see if he's alright."

"I think M'Gann is right, Conner. You should let him rest for a bit before you see him," Dick said.

"Is that an order?" Conner asked, his eyes narrowing.

"Conner, we're just saying that—"

"Oh my god!"

The Kryptonian was about to make a retort, but the sound of a scream stopped him. Everyone turned to see Y/N falling from the sky, his body limp.

"Y/N!"

Conner didn't waste a second and leaped off the ground towards his boyfriend. He caught him just in time before he hit the ground, his body hanging limply in his arms.

"Y/N! Y/N!" Conner said, shaking him, but the younger male didn't respond.

The Kryptonian's eyes were furious as he turned to the League members who had rushed over, "This is all your fault!"

"Conner, calm down. We're going to figure this out," Batman said.

"No! All of this is your fault. You and the entire League! You all knew this was happening, and you let it continue. You didn't do anything to stop it, and now look at him!"

"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you need to calm down. We need to figure out what's wrong with Y/N."

"What's wrong with him?! You guys have been using him as your little guinea pig for over a year and now that something's wrong, you're suddenly concerned? You're all a bunch of hypocrites!"

"Conner, please. Let's just get Y/N to the med bay and see what's wrong," M'Gann said.

"Fine!" The Kryptonian shouted before following the others towards the medical bay, his boyfriend still held tightly in his arms.

Y/N was placed on the bed, while the League and the Team watched as Red Tornado checked his vitals.

Batman sent out an emergency call and had some medical professionals from S.T.A.R. Labs come to Mount Justice to figure out what was going on. His diagnosis wasn't good.

"His vitals are improving, thankfully. But, it seems his body is under a lot of stress."

"What does that mean?"

"From initial tests, it seems that the combination of whatever he's being injected with combined with our solutions to dilute and nullify them are causing his immune system to feel like it's getting attacked from two ends."

"But, this wasn't happening before when Y/N started taking the dilutions?"

"Yes, because whatever serums Mr. Luthor was using weren't as strong. We can only assume he's gotten more persistent and amped up the intensity of his tests. Combined with our dilutions, now, not only are they fighting with each other, but it's causing his body to fight itself as well. We need further tests to confirm, but what I can say is that since these experiments are primarily designed to extract and/or remove his powers, his use of them in combat or training causes more stress than he can handle."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that Y/N's body is rejecting the combination of both the serums and our solutions, and the only way to prevent further harm is to stop using them."

"But, that'll mean he won't have any way to counteract the effects of the serums," Superman said.

"Yes. But, it's the only way to prevent further damage. His body is essentially going into a sort of self-defense mode and is attacking itself. We need to stop it now before it gets worse and becomes permanent. Right now, it's only affecting his immune system, but if it continues, it'll affect other parts of his body, and we won't be able to save him."

The doctor unhooked him from the machines, packing his things before being escorted back to S.T.A.R. Labs by Black Canary and Captain Marvel. The room was quiet as Conner stood by Y/N's side while glaring at the Dark Knight.

"You knew this was happening, didn't you?"

"Conner, you need—"

"No! Don't tell me what I need to do. You knew this was happening, and you did nothing. You were fine with just sitting around and doing nothing, letting this happen. You let Y/N get hurt and put him in danger."

"Superboy! That's enough." Aqualad ordered.

"Dude, you think they've been sitting around doing nothing? That's all they've been doing trying to figure out how to shut this all down while dealing with other stuff. Batman even tried going to Y/N's parents directly to get them to see reason." Dick tried to argue on his mentor's behalf.

"And, look where that got us. Y/N nearly died today because of the crap you've all been subjecting him to. It's been over a year and you still haven't done anything. He's the one suffering while all of you get to just sit back and watch."

"Conner, please. We're trying. They just need more time," M'Gann pleaded.

"Time? Y/N could have died today. Do you understand that? I could have lost him. And, it would have been all of their faults."

"Conner, please. I know you're upset, but you can't blame them. They've been trying their best," Zatanna said.

"No, they haven't. If they were doing their best, they would've confronted Luthor directly and put an end to this shitshow months ago!"

"That would've just put Y/N and his family in more danger! They can't just go around accusing someone like Lex Luthor who is known to cover his tracks without any proof!" Artemis argued.

"Conner, enough. We all get how you feel, but they've done everything we can," Kaldur said.

"Really? Cause, from where I'm standing, they've done nothing, " He said before turning his heated gaze to Batman, who stayed silent during all of this, "You're all a bunch of cowards."

"Conner!" Superman yelled.

"No, fuck all of you. I'll save Y/N myself if I have to," He said, before picking Y/N's unconscious body off the bed and exiting the med bay towards his room.

"Should we stop him?" Wally asked.

"No, let him go," Batman answered, "He needs time to cool down."

"He's right though, isn't he?" Dick asked, "We've been putting this off for too long. We've been waiting for the League to handle this, but they haven't done anything."

"We've been trying," Superman said.

"And, yet, you haven't gotten anywhere. Despite his reaction, Conner's right. You've just been sitting around and waiting for something to happen. What have you done to stop this from happening?" Wally asked with a pointed look.

"We've been trying to find evidence against Luthor, but he's been hiding it well. We need to find a way to expose him and bring him down without risking Y/N and his parents. We can't afford to lose this."

"Well, let's hope something can get figured out soon because I don't think Conner can handle any more of this. None of us can," Kaldur said, the tone of his words hanging heavy in the air as he and the rest of the team made their way out of the med bay as well.

Y/N had woken up a couple of hours later, finding himself being held by a softly snoring Conner whose grip around him was so secure, you'd think the Kryptonian was guarding a treasure.

He smiled at the sight, not wanting to disturb his boyfriend, but the Kryptonian sensed his movement and woke up. The second he laid eyes on you, a softness appeared on his face as he brought a hand to caress Y/N's face who smiled back at him while leaning into his hand.

"Should I be worried about this being a regular thing?"

Conner didn't respond, but the slight smile across his lips indicated he was happy to see Y/N could still make a joke out of anything. The younger boy started to look around, wondering how he even got there in the first place.

"What happened? Last thing I remember was being in training, and then nothing else," He asked, turning back to the Kryptonian.

Conner still didn't say anything, just leaned over and pressed a kiss against the boy's lips, forcing him to lay back as he positioned himself over him. Y/N wasn't complaining at the move, kissing back with as much fever and passion as the Kryptonian.

When he broke the kiss apart, Conner just leaned his head down into his neck while being careful not to lay all his weight on the boy, placing small kisses on his neck and breathing in his scent. Y/N brought his arms around the boy, giving small caresses to his back, sensing the boy needed this quiet moment.

He could tell whatever happened wasn't good, and it would likely upset Conner in talking about it. That's when he suggested going to the common room to watch TV, having more time to cuddle, and just relax after what must have been a stressful day. Plus, based on the way he was acting now, Y/N knew his boyfriend wasn't planning on letting him out of his sight for the rest of the night.

Without a word, Conner hopped up off the bed, picking his boyfriend up in his arms, and carrying him out of the room.

"You know, my legs work just fine. Just thought I should remind you," Y/N joked, finally getting a smile from the Kryptonian.

"Shut up and let me take care of you idiot."

"Whatever you say, honey."

"I hate that nickname."

Eventually, Y/N discovered what happened, after he practically had to force Conner to give him his phone which he needed to get back to his dorm and the Kryptonian all but exploded on him for even considering the idea of going back to that place. He knew the experiments were getting worse, and he could feel the effect it was having on his body.

The only thing he didn't realize was how much of an effect it was having on Conner and even his friends who all were concerned for his well being after watching him nearly split open his skull after fainting mid-flight and plummeting towards the ground. But, in the end, all he could think of was his parents and not putting them in danger.

It didn't matter though, because the Kryptonian had made his decision, and he made it clear not only to his boyfriend but to the rest of the team and their superiors. Either he goes with Y/N back to the school and stays with him full-time, or Y/N would remain at Mount Justice and transfer to Happy Harbor and they would just have to figure out another plan to protect his parents.

Surprisingly, he wasn't met with any opposition. Everyone agreed with him. While the League was still concerned about the potential consequences of these actions and the dangers they could bring, they realized their hesitance had already put Y/N in a more than dangerous position that could have cost him his life.

While the League still had a plan in motion and would be monitoring the situation, they knew things had escalated beyond their control. They decided to follow Conner's suggestion, having the Kryptonian pose as a transfer student, allowing him to attend the school and stay by his boyfriend's side.

He was moved into his own dorm with a roommate (despite his initial demands that he be placed in the same room as Y/N, but there was only so much they could do without raising heads) and placed in all his classes. Conner became like his personal bodyguard, making sure he was never alone or in the presence of anyone they didn't know or trust.

He was unpleasantly surprised to find out it was an all-boys school, and it only made the Kryptonian even more suspicious of his classmates, especially the ones who seemed too friendly or close to his boyfriend.

Y/N was not amused.

"Conner, please, stop glaring at everyone."

"I'm not glaring. I'm just observing."

"Observing, glaring. Same difference."

"What? They're all just staring at you. Like, they're undressing you with their eyes. It's disgusting. And you should've told me this was an all-boys school!"

"I didn't tell you because I didn't think it mattered. Plus, I knew you would react this way. Besides, they're not undressing me with their eyes."

"Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean they're not doing it. And what do you mean you knew I'd react this way?"

"Conner, sweetie, I love you, but you've got to be one of the most jealous people I've ever met."

"Okay, you're exaggerating. I don't get that jealous." Conner scoffed.

"Babe, you literally get upset because Wolf always wants to play with me more than he does with you."

"Okay, that's completely valid. I'm his owner or Alpha or whatever, but he only wags his tail excitedly when he sees or smells you coming."

"I've always been a dog person." Y/N shrugged.

"Yeah, well apparently, you're also gonna be the person who gets all these irritating fuckers sent to the nurse's office if they don't find somewhere else to look at."

Y/N rolled his eyes in amusement, "You're ridiculous."

"I'm your boyfriend."

"Exactly."

The Kryptonian couldn't argue with that, not that he would want to.

"I'm still not going to like this," Conner grumbled.

"Yeah, I know. And, I still love you."

"Good."

Looking on the brighter side, however, things were better with Conner attending the school. He was able to provide updates to the Team and League about what was happening, and the Kryptonian was always on high alert when Y/N was at the labs.

Plus, it was nice having the Kryptonian nearby. The fact that his boyfriend was always so close made Y/N feel safer and less stressed, and it gave the Kryptonian peace of mind knowing he was safe.

Of course, there were moments when Conner had to remind himself not to overreact, trying to control the situation, but he was getting better at it.

Ironically enough, Conner ended up becoming a little popular within the school, which should have been surprising. The Kryptonian was the picture-perfect American boy. He was athletic even if he didn't join any sports teams, most people just assumed from his muscular build. He possessed high intelligence thanks to his G-Gnome programming and was insanely attractive in the eyes of many.

Even though he wasn't exactly the most social, choosing to mostly keep to himself or stick by his boyfriend's side, many of the students and teachers slowly began to warm up to him. He was still a bit standoffish and awkward, but his protective nature towards his boyfriend was seen as endearing and adorable by his peers.

It was also envied and desired by many of their classmates. And since Conner was still convinced that certain boys in the school couldn't be trusted because of their obvious love-struck eyes for Y/N, it made him all the more surprised when he realized some of those looks were meant for himself. Much to the displeasure of his boyfriend, of course, which the Kryptonian took great pride in. It was satisfying knowing he wasn't the only jealous one in their relationship.

"You're jealous," The Kryptonian smirked at his boyfriend's irritable expression as they sat in the library studying.

"Am not," Y/N denied.

"Are too."

"And what makes you think that?" Y/N tried to show a neutral face, but Conner knew him too well and could see the visible anger twitching in his eyes.

"Well, for starters, you get this irritable look in your eye like the one you have now when someone tries to come up and talk to me. You looked about ready to blast my lab partner's head off in chemistry earlier today during our experiment. And you've been glaring at Logan for the past twenty minutes ever since he came over here and offered to study with us," Conner stated, his smirk growing bigger as he watched his boyfriend's cheeks begin to burn with embarrassment, "Now, you know how it feels."

"Okay, first of all, I got annoyed because they always came up and tried to talk to you when we were clearly in the middle of a conversation. That would irritate anyone, even a nun—"

"What do nuns have to do with this?"

"—Secondly, I was only looking at your lab partner like that because he kept popping his gum and you know the sound of the shit drives me crazy. Plus, he didn't need to position your chairs right next to each other during the experiment. And, I was not glaring at Liam, which is actually his name, by the way, I was just... observing."

"Observing?" The Kryptonian asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes, observing. We're in a library, would you like me to grab you a dictionary? It's when you look at something or someone closely and with attention," Y/N stated, the sarcasm dripping off his words.

"Really? Because it looked more like this," Conner said, before he scrunched his eyebrows together, making a look of intense concentration, his eyes squinting, "Then, the person you were looking at would start to panic and freak out because it looked like you were going to attack them," Y/N held an unimpressed look while actively suppressing the amusing chuckles he felt rising in his stomach.

"Careful sweetie, hold that face for too long and it might get stuck like that," Y/N said.

"Very funny," Conner replied, before his eyes took on a mischievous glint, "I like it when you're jealous, though. Makes you even cuter."

Y/N let out a scoff, "I'm not cute, and I'm not jealous. And if you want to live to see tomorrow, you'll refrain from using those words again."

"Or what?" Conner challenged, a teasing smirk on his face.

"Or, I'll show you just how 'cute' I can be," Y/N threatened.

"Is that a promise or a threat? Cause, I'm hoping for the first one."

"You've been spending way too much time with Wally."

"Maybe. But, I'm not the one who's jealous," Conner said, his smirk still firmly in place.

"Shut up," Y/N said.

"You're cute."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

"Shut up."

"Never."

"Do you want to fight? Because the energy you're giving me right now says you want to fight."

"It's okay, babe. I am also a jealous boyfriend," Conner said.

"I'm so glad you've finally acknowledged it. You know they say the first step in the journey is acceptance and admittance," Y/N said, the sarcasm and humor evident in his voice.

"Whatever. At least I don't deny it like you."

"I've already told you I'm not jealous. You're the jealous one, not me," Y/N argued.

"Whatever you say, babe."

"I'm not!"

"You're so cute when you're in denial," Conner said, reaching a hand across the table and pinching his cheek.

"I will destroy you," Y/N threatened with a fake menacing tone.

"I'd like to see you try, cutie."

Y/N couldn't help but crack a smile at his boyfriend's antics.

"I love you," Y/N said.

"Love you too, even if you are a liar."

"Fuck off."

Across the room, the couple were not aware of the eyes on them as their peers watched them bicker back and forth.

"Ugh, can't those two ever get a room?"

Things seemed to be going well, but not all good things weren't meant to last forever.

Despite their moments of levity and fun, the experiments were still taking a toll on the boy. Y/N's powers were getting harder and harder to control, and the Kryptonian was constantly worried about the boy's safety and well-being.

One lesson Y/N took very seriously from Batman was to always trust his instincts and what his gut was telling him. Those same instincts were telling him that Lex was on to them if his feelings of dread and hyper awareness anytime he and Conner were in class, out on campus, or just anywhere outside of their dorms was anything to go off.

They'd also be fools not to see how just as much as their classmates were observing them, certain members of the faculty were watching them as well. The only thing they couldn't be certain of was if these people knew they were aware of them watching them. Of course, Y/N and Conner both knew the risks of having the Kryptonian on the campus more frequently and the increased chances that Lex would recognize him, even despite the changes in his appearance they did to throw him off.

The teacher and faculty agents the League had sent in were doing their best to uncover Luthor's plot, but even having them on campus watching out for him and Conner didn't do much to ease Y/N's nerves.

Little did he know how right he was to feel on edge.

During one of their sessions while Lex was in the observation room, his assistant came to him with a tablet, "Mr. Luthor, the surveillance footage you requested."

"Thank you. Any developments?"

"Actually, yes, sir. There's a new subject who has joined the school recently," The assistant said, showing footage of their subject eating lunch with the addition in question.

"What's so special about this one?" Lex asked, his eyes narrowing as he watched the two interact.

"From initial gatherings, nothing sir," Mercy said, swiping through the different video files they had recorded of Y/N and this new student around the school since his arrival, "But, after close observation and monitoring, we found the nature of their relationship to be more intimate than expected. And, after noting his unusual practice of never leaving the subject's side for more than a second and their frequent trips off campus together, we ran a facial recognition and found this." She swiped over to an old file from their Cadmus labs in Washington.

Lex's eyebrows raised in recognition while a knowing smile grew across his lips, "Ah, so it seems Project K.R. has gone and fallen in love with our little experiment. How interesting. Expected of course, which gives me a perfect opportunity."

"What would you like us to do, sir?"

"For now, continue monitoring. Keep a close eye on them. If our resident Superboy knows about him and is here assumingly to watch and protect him, we can only assume the League is on to us," Lex instructed, a hand to his chin as he thought over their moves before his usual knowing smirk returned to his face, "Also, reach out to the family of our subject. I do believe it's time we set up a parent-teacher conference."

Mercy nodded at the instructions, before turning to leave. Lex turned back to the one-sided window, watching as the scientists and doctors performed their tests and experiments on Y/N with a knowing smile. He grabbed his phone out of his pocket, opening a message thread and pulling up a photo he received some weeks prior.

A cute and lovely photo it was too of Conner taking a selfie of him and Y/N who was seemingly caught off guard and trying to get the phone back. Lex smiled at the screen with a thoughtful gaze before making his way inside the experiment room, intending to have a little chat with his subject.

Y/N knew something was up, and the only small relief he had to his growing anxiousness was the fact that the League finally had come up with enough evidence and was now formulating a plan to end these experiments and take Luthor down, without risking his parents in the process. Only that seemed less likely when his parents suddenly showed up at the school the following week, surprising both their son and the Kryptonian who immediately became suspicious.

Apparently, Lex had decided to call a meeting with him and his parents to discuss his performance and results. And, if the uneasy dread in his stomach was correct, it definitely had nothing to do with his grades.

The agents immediately reported back to the League, and Conner was insistent that he and Y/N return to Mount Justice as soon as possible, almost certain that Lex was up to something. But, his boyfriend who just as much wanted to agree with the Kryptonian wouldn't allow it.

He was also very aware of the ominous feeling that Lex was setting up something, and that's why he had purposely invited Y/N's parents there. In the past year he'd spent with 'Uncle Lex', he'd gotten to know him pretty well, and getting to know him meant he got to see the parts of Luthor that were cold, calculating and always scheming.

Whether Lex was aware or not that Y/N could see these traits coming out at times, the young superhero noted it. And that's why he was certain he had no choice but to attend this meeting.

Lex got his parents involved for a reason, and he wasn't ready to find out what that reason was. But, Conner was not ready nor willing to let his teammate and boyfriend walk into an obvious trap. Despite his very strong feelings concerning the boy's parents and his wanting to give them a piece of his mind, Y/N's safety was his #1 priority. If his parents were in on the scheme, then any wrong move or miscalculated step could put him at risk, and that wasn't something the Kryptonian was willing to gamble on.

"No, you're not going," Conner stated, leaving no room for argument in his tone, despite knowing his boyfriend would still argue back with him.

"Yes, I am."

"Y/N, this is not up for discussion. You're not going, and that's final." Conner said, looking down straight into his boyfriend's eyes and not budging an inch. In any other scenario, he'd typically argue a little before giving in to the smaller male...not this time.

"Last time I checked, you were not my boss. And you know what will happen if I don't go. Lex will just end up coming after me and my parents," Y/N retorted.

"Fine. Then, I'm coming with you. End of discussion."

"Conner—"

"Y/N, I'm not letting you do this alone. End. Of. Discussion."

"Conner, I have to. You don't understand, he's got something planned and he's not stupid. He knows the League's onto him and this is basically his insurance policy. I can't let my parents get caught up in this," Y/N said, his decision final.

"And I can't let you get hurt," Conner yelled, grabbing Y/N by his shoulders and bringing him closer, his face showing his desperation while Y/N tried to push back the tears building in his eyes, "What if your parents are in on it and this is just you playing into all of their hands? You can't expect to believe that they have no idea what's going on and haven't noticed the condition you've been in all those times you went home."

"You don't think I haven't considered that?! I'm not stupid, Conner. But, if my parents are in on this, then that's something I'll just have to face the reality of. But, I'm their son, superpowers or not, I'm still their kid. That has to count for something," Y/N said, the tears no longer being held back as they broke free and ran down his face.

The Kryptonian softened at the sight and reached his hand up to wipe away the tears, before bringing the boy closer to him and embracing him, his arms wrapping around him as if trying to protect him from the entire world. Just like before, when they stood in the middle of his room at Mount Justice, only this time, the roles were reversed and Conner was the one comforting him.

Just like the many other teens and kids who had the blessing of being gifted with powers and abilities beyond the average human, it came with many circumstances, and sometimes those circumstances outweighed the benefits. As he'd come to learn, he wasn't the only one who had his fair share of daddy and mommy issues, didn't make it hurt any less though.

The idea that his parents couldn't accept him for who he was and would rather subject him to cruel and awful experiments, just to get rid of something they saw as an imperfection in him...stung, to say the least. It wouldn't be the first time he'd wondered about how his life would have turned out had he not had these powers, but he'd be lying if he said it hadn't crossed his mind that maybe his parents would be happier and more accepting.

That thought alone was what made him the most upset. Not the fact that they'd rather see him as a science experiment than their son, but the fact that they'd rather just erase him and get rid of him completely, even if it meant losing their son than having to face the idea of their child being different.

It was something he'd only admitted once before to Conner, and the Kryptonian could still recall the pain he felt at the admission. It was a pain so subtle, yet so raw and so deep that he could feel how much it affected his boyfriend, making his dislike turn to disdain, almost hatred towards his so-called 'parents.'

Now, in the face of everything, Y/N was slowly accepting it as his reality. The thought had been slowly settling in his mind more and more over the past year as these experiments continued. Conner was right. His parents had to have known something was up when they saw him come home the few times he did in the past few months.

If it was enough for his friends and his protectors from the Justice League to see, then they had to have noticed at some point. And the fact that he'd never seen them show any ounce of concern unless it was relating to the state of his 'undesirable traits' as stated by his mother told him everything he needed to know.

At any point, they'd probably agree with what Lex was doing, especially if they knew he was doing it to eliminate Superman and the Justice League. His parents weren't at risk. They never were.

But, the Justice League was.

His Team and friends were at risk.

Conner was at risk, and that was something he wasn't going to take any chance with no matter the cost to himself.

"My parents just texted. They're meeting with Lex in his office. I have to go," Y/N said, going to grab his things and head for the door.

"No, you don't," Conner said, pulling his boyfriend into his hold, "If you think I'm going to willingly let you walk into what's almost certainly a death sentence, then you actually are an idiot. We're going back to Mount Justice and telling the others what's going on."

"I can't, Conner. My parents are already on their way, and if I'm not there, they along with Lex are going to get suspicious. It's one thing if Lex knows about us and the League, but if my parents find out, then we're going to have an even bigger problem to deal with," Y/N argued, still trying to break free from the Kryptonian's embrace.

"And, what about when they figure out you're a superhero and are part of the team who's been working to bring them down? If you're going to that meeting, then I'm going with you, and if I have to, I'll protect them as well. It's not like I can't handle myself. Besides, you'll be there, and we're stronger together," Conner stated.

"No, absolutely not," Y/N refused.

"And why not?"

"Do you honestly think for one moment Lex hasn't prepared a thousand and one different contingency plans? Like I said before, if he invited my parents here, then he did it for a reason. And I'm willing to bet he's got plenty of different backups in case you, Superman, Batman, or anyone from the Team or League tries to intervene. I've spent the last year observing this man, Conner. He's smart, and he's always planning his next move. You should know that more than anyone!"

"Exactly, which is why I'm not going to let him hurt you."

"But, he'll hurt you if you're there! Do you not get it, Conner? If Lex sees you, he'll use you against me. Do you not understand that? If you show up to that meeting, he'll have all the leverage he needs to take everything from me. Despite my not wanting to believe it could be true, I have to accept the reality that my parents may actually be 100% totally on Lex's side, so he won't be able to use them effectively against me like he could if they weren't, which gives me an advantage. An advantage that goes straight out the window if you're there," Y/N explained, hoping the Kryptonian would listen.

"You're not invincible, Conner. Your abilities might rival Superman's, but Lex created you. Even if M'Gann removed all the programming the G-Gnomes did to you before that gave him control over you, Lex still knows how to get to you in ways I couldn't even imagine. And that scares the shit out of me. I can't lose you. I can't," Y/N cried, finally breaking down and dropping his body fully into his boyfriend's arms.

Conner's heart ached at the words, never feeling as helpless and weak as he did at that moment. It seemed no matter how much he tried to protect his boyfriend and keep him safe, all his efforts were in vain, and both of them were at risk of losing the other.

It was amazing how only a year together could bring two individuals who hadn't known each other and were seemingly doing just fine on their own before, could reach a point where they felt like they couldn't go on without the other, and just the thought of was enough to send them down a spiral of panic and misery.

Conner wrapped both his arms around Y/N's waist at that moment, holding him in what could be considered a lethally crushing embrace while digging his face into the smaller boy's neck. His boyfriend never complained though, holding on to his Kryptonian just as tight while rubbing his hands through his hair and up and down his back, his tears still falling silently down his face.

The Kryptonian couldn't hold back his own tears as he felt them drop down his face, hiding his face even further to prevent his boyfriend from seeing him cry. One of them had to be strong for the other, and Conner decided it would always be him. It was what he was made for. His grip grew tighter with every second as he fought the urge to just break through the window and run off with his boyfriend, hiding them away forever.

He wanted nothing more than to take him away from all this. To take him somewhere far away from all the danger and chaos that plagued their lives and just live. The fantasy of having a simple life with Y/N and getting married, settling down, and starting a family was the only thing he could think about now.

"I love you, Conner. You've done a great job at protecting me so far, but, just this once, let me protect you. Let me keep you safe," Y/N whispered, his voice strained and hoarse.

"I love you, Y/N. I promise we'll figure this out, and we'll have that forever we talked about before. Just wait for me," Conner said, pulling back just enough so he could look the smaller boy in the eye, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, his cheeks, and the tip of his nose, before finally landing on his lips.

"With open arms," Y/N replied, the smile on his face bittersweet, yet full of love and promise.

"With open arms," Conner repeated, the tears still running down his face, and his arms still refusing to let go of the boy.

The two embraced in a bruising kiss, one full of desperation and pain, and a silent promise. When the kiss broke, Y/N pulled the Kryptonian into his chest, his fingers running through his dark hair and rubbing small circles on his back, and Conner closed his eyes, allowing the touch to soothe him, wishing he could stay there forever.

"That was so cheesy," Y/N chuckled messily through his tears.

"You were the one who said it," Conner smiled, his eyes still closed as he buried his face into his boyfriend's chest.

"Shut up," Y/N laughed lightly, his hands still rubbing Conner's back.

"I'll let you go, but only on one condition," The Kryptonian spoke, his eyes opening and looking into the eyes of the boy in his arms.

Y/N looked at him, holding back a sad chuckle, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let it go easily, "What is it?"

"You have to let Batman and one of our friends go with you, just as a backup. They don't have to go with you inside the meeting, but I'll feel better knowing you have some sort of reinforcement. And the only other option if you don't agree to that is me throwing you over my shoulder and taking you back to Mount Justice."

Y/N almost opened his mouth to argue but held back his words, knowing Conner wouldn't budge and would likely follow through on his threat. He sighed, knowing the Kryptonian wouldn't let him do this alone, despite his protests.

"Okay," He relented, hoping for once that his boyfriend could not read him as easily as he did.

"Promise me," Conner said, the determination and stubbornness still present in his eyes, "You promise me, okay? Promise me, you won't go alone," He demanded.

Y/N nodded, "I promise."

"No, say it. I need to hear it," Conner ordered.

"I won't go alone, Conner. I promise."

"Good," Conner sighed, his grip on his boyfriend relaxing, "Now, who are you going to bring with you?"

"Wally, I think," Y/N answered, "He's fast and can get me out of there pretty quickly if things get out of hand."

"Fine, but just know, if anything happens, I'll come and get you myself," Conner declared.

"I know. But, I'll be okay. Everything will be fine," Y/N reassured, "I love you."

"I love you, too," Conner said before getting up, "Now, you stay here, and do not go to that meeting until I'm back with Batman and Wally. Got it?"

Y/N rolled his eyes playfully, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Remember what you promised," Conner said, before leaning forward and kissing his boyfriend again, the kiss much sweeter and calmer than the one before, but with the same amount of passion and love behind it. He pulled away, giving his boyfriend one last glance before heading out of the room.

That was the last time he saw Y/N.

Conner wasted no time in getting back to the Zeta Gateway to Mount Justice, not caring who saw him leaping across the campus and the city. When he finally made it back to the Cave, he explained the situation and demanded Batman and Wally return with him. Wally had no problem going along with it, not liking the fact that his friend was being put in danger, and not caring that the Kryptonian's protective nature was kicking in, knowing they were all a little protective of their teammate and friend.

Batman needed a few more details, but when he had the whole story, he immediately called in Superman along with the rest of the Team. Conner truly didn't care at that moment, as long as they got back before Y/N did something stupid. Despite the smaller boy's wishes, they were not granted, as the Kryptonian could clearly see his boyfriend was planning something.

When they made it back, Batman held back, opting for Robin to go in his place with him, Conner, and Wally.  The three boys, each now dressed in their Team attire made their way to Y/N's dorm, only to find it empty, their teammate nowhere in sight. Conner had to physically hold back from tearing the entire school apart.

"Where the fuck is he?!" Conner screamed, his patience and concern growing thin.

"Calm down, Supey. He probably saw we were coming and made his way to the meeting. Let's just follow the plan and get there so we can be ready to jump in when he needs us," Kid Flash said, trying to calm the Kryptonian down.

"Where's the meeting at?" Robin asked.

Conner took a few deep breaths, trying to get ahold of himself, "He told me it was in Luthor's office. Knowing him, he probably lied thinking I would've gone after him by myself. I'll bet they're meeting in the science building where they've been doing the experiments," He theorized.

"Then, what are we waiting for?" Kid Flash said before the trio made their way over, alerting Batman, Superman, and the rest of their team.

But, by the time they made it, it was too late.

On the outside, the building looked fine. But, on the inside, everything was destroyed. It almost looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off inside the building. The testing lab, where they usually performed the experiments on Y/N was in even worse shape than the rest of the building.

All the equipment and furniture was completely demolished, and the one-sided mirror Lex would watch from was shattered, with a small hole in the wall behind it, indicating the explosion came from the inside.

There were scorch marks everywhere, the smell of burnt metal and plastic filling the air as the four boys walked around the scene. The League had already contacted the police and the fire department, and the school's administration was currently being investigated and questioned by the local authorities.

They couldn't find Y/N though. They managed to find students and faculty who were in the building and trapped under rubble. They found some of the scientists hiding in various spots in the destroyed wreckage of the room like they were trying to shield themselves from the damage.

They even managed to locate Mercy Graves, who was unconscious in the rubble.

But, no signs of their missing friend and teammate.

No trace of Lex Luthor or Y/N's parents either which made the rising anger and panic Superboy was feeling reach astronomical levels.

"Where the hell is he?!" Conner shouted, his patience finally giving out and the anger and concern he'd been feeling the past hour finally bubbling over.

"Superboy, calm down," Batman said, "We'll find him."

"And how can you be so sure? We've been looking for over an hour, and there's no sign of him," Conner yelled, the worry and concern in his voice very clear.

"Superboy, relax. We'll find him, don't worry," Superman said, only to be interrupted by the groan of an awakening Mercy Graves.

"You won't find him," She said, coughing a few times and holding her head as she sat up.

Superboy made his way over to the woman, grabbing her off the ground and throwing her against one of the few remaining walls in the room.

"Superboy!" Batman shouted.

"Where is he," Superboy growled, ignoring his mentor and leader's warnings.

"I told you, you won't find him," Mercy said, smiling through her bloody and bruised lips.

Superboy, very much past his limit, wrapped his hand around the woman's throat, lifting her into the air, "Tell me where he is right now, or I promise I will choke the life out of you right now and enjoy doing it."

By the tone of his voice and the warning squeeze he gave around her throat that had the bodyguard wincing in pain, he was not bluffing.

"Superboy, stand down! We need her to talk," Superman ordered.

"Why? She clearly knows something and she's not telling us," Superboy retorted, a dark and ominous tone to his voice no one had ever heard from him before as he watched the tears build in her eyes from not being able to breathe, "Might as well make sure she never speaks another word again. Save us all the trouble."

"And how will that help you find him?" Batman asked.

"It won't. But, I'll feel a lot better," The half-Kryptonian said, turning his attention back to Mercy, who was trying her best to remove the hand from her throat.

"Superboy, release her and stand down now. That's an order," Batman said.

He seemingly was done listening to them though, his anger-filled gaze focused solely on the woman choking and gasping for breath as her throat was crushed slowly under his grip.

"Superboy, that's enough. You're going to kill her," Batman said, trying to reason with his clone.

"So, what? She's not telling us anything, and she's working for Lex. Who cares if she dies?"

"We need her alive. If she knows something, then we have other ways of getting her to talk. But, if you kill her, you may lose your only chance at finding him. Now, let her go," Superman ordered.

Everyone stood still at that moment, the sounds of debris flying and police sirens drowned out by the struggling noises coming from Lex's bodyguard as she fought to keep herself awake and alive under the deathly grip the Kryptonian had her in. His face was hard, his rage clear as day and not showing any signs of relenting.

Batman was prepared to use external measures, signaling Robin when the Kryptonian suddenly backed off. He released his grip over the woman's throat, letting her fall to the ground as she gasped and coughed for breath. Without another word, Superboy walked out of the room, not turning back as his peers and mentors stared after him in worry.

Superman had to stop him from tearing apart the entire school, as Conner was resigned to doing whatever he could to find his teammate and lover, at whatever cost. Thankfully, Batman was smart in bringing the others along as they were all able to assist in subduing him before anything else got destroyed or someone else got hurt in the process.

it wasn't easy for any of them, as they could understand the world of anger and hurt he was in. It was even harder when Batman gave them all pieces of Kryptonite to subdue him, making it easier for them to take him back to Mount Justice while they wrapped up their investigations.

They weren't able to get much out of Mercy, as she apparently wasn't present for the entire meeting and had only just returned before everything went to hell. She knew some details of Luthor's plans but not everything, but she wasn't the only one they apprehended. They detained some of the scientists who were working on the experiments themselves and brought them in for questioning.

"The experiments were designed to remove the subject's powers and abilities, as requested by his parents. Make no mistake, Mr. Luthor had no plans to deceive Mr. & Mrs. L/N. He had full intentions of honoring their wishes and returning their son to them as a normal child with no powers. However, his motives for doing so were not exactly what they may have thought. Mr. Luthor didn't just intend to remove the young boy's powers, he meant to extract them and duplicate them, hoping to copy those abilities into a new generation of Genomorph clones."

This wasn't news. They knew most of this already, but the truth spell Zatanna cast seemingly worked, as they hadn't gotten this much detail out of the assistant/bodyguard before. Conner couldn't care less though.

All he was concerned about was any information she had that could lead them to finding Y/N. It became all he cared about.

But, it seemed all Batman, Superman, and his so-called friend cared about were the experiments that were performed on him. Experiments that they allowed to go on for more than a year.

"Mr. Luthor theorized the key to extraction and duplication in the matter of the subject's abilities lay within the source of his powers. Only after several experiments were the scientists assigned to the matter able to narrow the source down to a matter of three categories. Genetic Inheritance, Biomolecular Engineering, or Magic. While the direct source was never identified, they had created many different strategies to test extraction and duplication before Mr. Luthor eventually found the correct one, which was the reason for his invitation to the subject's parents. However, one variable was unaccounted for."

"What was it?" Superman asked.

"Though it was never discovered what the source of the subject's abilities was, we did discover various effects and consequences of a potential pathogen that was destroying our serums and nullifying our experiments, which caused almost irreversible damage on the subject and potentially his power source as well. We realized the subject's body was now not only fighting against our serums and experiments, it was rejecting its own innate abilities, essentially fighting a war within itself. It was theorized that since the serums were designed to essentially tamper with the subject's powers, and the body was actively trying to expel the serums, it as a result tried to expel a part of itself as well. This caused substantial side effects, and Mr. Luthor was forced to postpone the achievement of his ultimate goal until he could be sure the subject would not die before extraction and duplication were complete."

The dilutions they were giving Y/N. The S.T.A.R. Labs scientists were right all along. And if they hadn't stopped giving Y/N the solutions when they did, they could've actually killed him from the inside.

Suddenly, everyone was grateful when Conner didn't stick around for the interrogations like he planned to, or else none of them knew how he'd react. If the way he almost crushed Mercy's throat against the wall when she wouldn't answer him was anything to go by, they'd rather not find out. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally already had a taste of it once.

They weren't keen on experiencing it again.

"What was the last thing you saw before the explosion?" Batman asked.

"Mr. Luthor had the subject restrained. He'd had him injected with the final serum, a special concoction our scientists had developed. It was supposed to neutralize the subject's powers and allow us to safely extract them. Once the extraction was complete, the subject would have been returned to his parents, and the serum would have been used to create a new generation of Genomorphs with the subject's powers that would be under Mr. Luthor's complete and total control. However, when the extraction began, something went wrong and the subject's body reacted negatively, causing his powers to go haywire, causing the explosion. I was knocked out during the blast and only woke up after your arrival. When I came to, the room was destroyed, and the subject was nowhere to be found along with Mr. Luthor and his parents. That's all I remember."

"Do you have any idea where they could've gone?"

"It is likely Mr. Luthor took himself and the subjects to safety in one of his remote locations. He is a very resourceful man and had me arrange means of emergency transportation and shelter in case anything grew out of his control. I would have been the one to escort him if I had not been caught in the blast myself. As for the subject himself, one of our scientists has summarized that he was likely vaporized from the overflux of power. The chance of his survival is almost non-existent."

A solemn mood fell over everyone at the news. Zatanna and M'Gann were distraught at the news while Artemis did her best to hide how crushed she was. Dick, Kaldur, and Wally were no better, each expressing their own forms of grief in different ways.

Batman, Superman, Flash, and the other members of the League were also plagued with remorse and guilt at the verdict. It was their fault. Especially the first three since they were the ones who brought Y/N into all of this in the first place.

And despite all the pain and anguish they were all feeling, they knew it wouldn't compare to how Conner would feel. No of them had the heart to tell him either way.

How do you tell someone the love of their life is dead?

No one had the answer, but it seemed, they didn't need it in the first place. When Conner returned to find out what Mercy and the scientists had said, all it took was one look around the room, seeing the red and wet eyes and the looks of despair on all their faces, and he just knew.

He didn't need anyone to tell him.

He didn't need the confirmation.

He didn't need anything.

Except maybe the ability to turn back time.

Because, if he could, he would've gone back and stopped Y/N from going to that meeting. He would've done what he wanted to do in the first place and just tossed the stubborn boy over his shoulder and taken him far away, somewhere safe and hidden, and never let him leave. He would've stayed with him forever, and they would've lived happily ever after.

Somehow, no one was surprised when Conner made for the vehicle hangar, clearly intending to leave.

"Where are you going?" Superman asked.

"I'm going to find him," Conner replied, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion.

"Conner, there's no point. We've searched everywhere. There's no trace of him, and Mercy said-"

"I don't give a shit what Mercy said! I'm going to find him, and I'm going to bring him home. I'm not giving up on him," Conner shouted, the tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

He was on Sphere, aka Super-Cycle, and out the door before any of them had the chance to argue.

When he didn't return for almost an entire day, they knew they had to go looking for the Kryptonian. They figured the best place to start would be Y/N's home city, the school, and certain areas around Happy Harbor.

They were right, though they didn't find him exactly where they thought.

After searching the school and their old dorm rooms, all of which showed clear signs of the Kryptonian's presence if the various holes in the wall and broken furniture were any indication. Yet, nothing of Y/N's was touched or destroyed. In fact, lots of it was neatly put together and packed away, as if someone was coming back for it. They figured Conner planned to take his stuff back to the Cave and keep it as mementos to his lost love.

It wasn't until they were flying back toward the Cave when Dick spotted him in a very familiar area. He was sitting on the ground, staring at the sky while leaning against the same tree he and the others had tied Y/N to when they thought he was a mole.

"Hey, guys, I found him," Dick said, "He's at the park."

"Alright, we'll meet you there," Batman replied over the comms.

"No, wait. Don't come here. Just...just stay where you are. I'll handle this," Robin said, his voice low and sad.

"Are you sure, Robin?" Aqualad asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll call you if I need you," Robin said before instructing M'Gann to land the Bioship a little bit away. He knew Conner would notice their arrival, but he figured it'd be easier if he just went himself.

"Hey, Supey," Robin called out, walking up to the Kryptonian.

"Go away, Dick," Conner said, his voice still cold and empty.

"I'm not going anywhere, Conner. Not until you talk to me," Robin said, sitting down next to the Kryptonian.

"I don't want to talk. I just want to be alone," Conner said.

"Well, you can be alone with a friend nearby. I'm not leaving, and neither are the others. We're worried about you, and we're not going to leave you alone. You're not the only one who's hurting, Conner. We all are. But, we're not going to get through this if we don't stick together. So, please, just talk to me. Let me help you," Robin pleaded.

"I don't need help. I need to find him," Conner said, his voice cracking a bit.

"Conner, we've looked everywhere. There's no sign of him. Even the League is looking, and they haven't found anything. There's nothing left to look for," Robin said, his voice soft and gentle.

"That's because they're not looking hard enough. I know he's out there. I can feel it. I can feel him. I can't explain it, but I know he's alive," Conner said, his voice growing firm.

"Conner, I know you want to believe that, but-"

The Boy Wonder was made silent when a folder piece of paper was shoved against his chest. When Conner didn't look back at him and just continued looking toward the sky, Dick figured he wanted him to read whatever he just gave him.

So, he did.

"Is this—"

"A fake letter someone tried to make imitating Y/N so I'd think he was dead? Yeah, it is," Conner answered, his voice still cold and devoid of emotion.

"But, how did you know?"

"I didn't. Not at first. When I got back to his dorm to see if I could find him or anything that would lead to him, I found that waiting for me on the bed. I started to read it, but I could barely get past the first three sentences without wanting to rip it to shreds. It sounded nothing like him. Nothing like the way he talked, not to mention the handwriting was too perfect," Conner explained, his voice growing softer and more emotional.

"So, someone wrote a fake letter to make you think Y/N was dead?" Dick had to admit, what Conner was saying wasn't completely off-track. He'd only known Y/N for a little over a year, but reading this letter, he agreed with the Kryptonian it sounded nothing like their teammate. But, then an image of the destroyed lab flashed in his head, and then Mercy's absolute sureness that he couldn't survive the blast...

"Ok, I see what you mean, but—"

"But, what?! What, Dick," Conner snapped, turning to his friend with a glowering look, "You think I'm crazy? You think I'm delusional? You think I'm making this up? Let me be clear since I wasn't before; if I really thought and believed Y/N was dead, I'd have gone and finished choking the life out of his useless assistant and went looking for any possible trace of Lex Luthor so I could stick my fist through his chest and God knows what if I managed to find his sorry excuse of parents."

Dick was taken aback by the Kryptonian's words, not expecting the sudden outburst.

"He's alive, Dick. And I'm going to find him," Conner stated, his tone leaving no room for argument. The only person who'd ever be able to argue against him was lost somewhere, the Kryptonian was convinced of this, and no one but Y/N would be able to convince him otherwise.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks turned to months. Before anyone knew it, a year had gone by, and no sign of Y/N had turned up.

It was hard to watch for many of the members of their team. Some of them wanted to believe Conner was right and actively helped him in his search for the first few months, but when they kept running into dead end after dead end, they slowly lost hope. Choosing to deal with their feelings of loss and move on with their lives instead of chasing someone they were positive wasn't coming back.

Conner didn't share the same sentiment. In -act, he was more than angry with his so-called 'friends' when they had all but thrown in the towel.

"You're just giving up on him?!" Conner yelled, his anger and frustration clear.

"We're not giving up, Conner. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann said, her voice calm and gentle.

"Move on? Move on?! How can you even say that? You're literally just giving up on him!"

"Conner, we're not giving up. We're just accepting the circumstances and choosing to move on," Zatanna said, her voice calm and understanding.

"He's not gone! He's not dead! He's not!"

"Dude, we're not saying he's dead. If he is alive, we don't think he's coming back," Wally spoke, trying to choose his words carefully.

"What the hell is the difference?!"

"The difference is that we're accepting that he's not coming back. And we're not going to waste our lives waiting for him," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm and serious.

"Waste our lives? You're calling looking for him a waste of time?!"

"No one said that Conner," Kaldur spoke, throwing a pointed look toward the blonde archer, "We're just saying that we've been looking for him for a year, and we haven't found anything. We've looked everywhere, and we've come up with nothing. We've exhausted every option, and we're not getting anywhere. We're not saying he's dead, but we can't spend the rest of our lives looking for him either," He explained.

"No, I've been looking for him for a year. You all gave up on him after the first few months," Conner yelled at his teammates.

"Conner, we didn't give up on him. We're just trying to move on," M'Gann repeated.

"And what if it was one of you? Would you have wanted us to give up on you then? Huh?!"

"Of course not, but-"

"Then, why are you giving up on him?"

"Because, it's not the same, Conner. It's not the same," Dick said, his voice a little louder and firmer than the others.

"No, it is the same. Fine! Give up for all I care. I didn't need your help anyway," The Kryptonian said, turning his back on his friends and walking away.

"Conner, wait," M'Gann called out, but the Kryptonian ignored her, continuing his walk.

"Let him go, M'Gann. He needs some time," Kaldur said, placing a comforting hand on the Martian's shoulder.

"But, we can't just let him go. He's not thinking clearly," She argued.

"He's not thinking at all," Artemis said, her arms crossed.

"Artemis," Kaldur warned.

"What? It's true. Have none of you paid attention for the past year?! He won't even consider the possibility that Y/N is dead," She said.

"He's not ready to accept that," Zatanna spoke, her voice quiet and solemn.

"Well, he's going to have to. We can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing after him. We have lives, and we have missions, and we can't keep putting them on hold," Artemis said.

"She's right," Wally said, earning a surprised look from his girlfriend, "I want Y/N to be alive just as much as any of us, but we can't keep doing this. We can't keep chasing him. We have other things to worry about. We have school, jobs, missions, and families. We can't keep putting them on hold."

"I agree," Kaldur said, "As much as I hate to say it, we have to move on. We have to accept the fact that he's not coming back."

Everyone else murmured their agreement, while M'Gann still looked a bit hesitant.

"What do we do about Conner? He's not going to give up."

"I say we give him another month, and if hasn't come around, then we have an intervention and force him to wake up to reality," Artemis suggested.

"That might be a bit much," Zatanna said.

"Well, what do you suggest? We can't just let him keep going on like this. He's not going to stop, and he's not going to listen to us. We have to do something," Artemis argued.

"I agree, but I don't think an intervention is the best idea," Kaldur said.

"Well, what do you suggest?"

"I think we should just give him some space. Let him cool off and come to terms with the situation on his own."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then, we intervene."

Things didn't get better as Artemis predicted.

With it seemingly just being himself now that his friends had given up, Conner had become even more obsessed with finding Y/N. He'd slowly done another 180 and turned into a worse version of himself when he came out of the pod.

His temper was back and stronger than ever. He barely spent time around his friends, and he was making rash decisions on missions. Black Canary and Superman both tried to intervene to talk to him, even looking into getting professional psychiatric counseling to help Conner deal with his grief.

None of it worked.

Everyone knew how much he loved—how much he loves—Y/N.

They knew how much he cared about him.

They knew how much he didn't want to believe what happened just as much as they knew he wouldn't accept it.

Conner refused to believe it.

He didn't want to.

He couldn't.

He wouldn't.

He wouldn't believe it until he saw the body.

Until he held him in his arms.

Until he could feel his heartbeat or no heartbeat at all.

His teammates and mentors could intervene all they wanted, it wasn't going to change anything. Either Conner was going to find Y/N, or he was going to die trying. Simple as that.

All the Kryptonian could think about was Y/N and the idea of him being lost and alone somewhere in the world, without him or anyone else to help him. He already failed him once, he wasn't going to do it again.

Even while going through the old interrogation videos they had on file from the scientists and Mercy Graves from the day of the accident, he was thinking about Y/N and the moments they used to share.

Their sparring sessions which frequently ended with them play-wrestling and making out on the floor or against the cave walls. All their dates into Happy Harbor whenever Y/N had free time and didn't have to report back to his school immediately that night. Their movie nights where they'd cuddle and watch all of Y/N's favorite movies and shows wanted, and Conner would pretend to hate it but secretly enjoyed it.

He'd even randomly found himself watching more of the show with the talking sponge and sea creatures, which he still had a hard time understanding. He just knew his favorite episode was always the one he remembered watching with Y/N when they were cuddled on the couch after his near accident that same day.

Y/N was lying against a pillow on the arm of the sofa while Conner lay on top of him, resting between his legs. The Kryptonian's head of dark hair was laid on his chest, and his arms wrapped around the waist of his body, like a child hugging their favorite teddy bear.

He had his arms rested over Conner's shoulders, one of his hands rubbing up and down the Kryptonian's back while the other massaged his head, fingers threading through his dark hair while they watched the ‘Graveyard Shift' episode from Spongebob Squarepants.

“I still don’t get it,” Conner spoke gruffly,  “How is he a talking sponge? What gives him the ability to speak and walk?

The smaller boy chuckled at his words, feeling how the Kryptonian nuzzled his head against his chest from the vibration of his laughs.

“I don’t know. It’s a cartoon. Not everything is supposed to make sense.”

“How am I supposed to follow along if I don’t get how the world functions?” He responded, taking one of his arms from under you to gesture at the TV. You couldn’t help the sigh and eye roll that came from your lips at your boyfriend’s antics.

As Spongebob screamed frantically while running to throw the trash out, Y/N removed his hand from Conner’s head to grab his phone off the coffee table. His baby of a Kryptonian let out a disgruntled noise, raising his head to look at him with one of his signature frowns, “Oh, calm down, you big baby. I was just grabbing my phone.” He laughed.

Conner found himself smiling at the memory, always remembering how the sound of Y/N's laugh brought him happiness, despite his occasional grumpiness from losing his head rubs.

He swore for a quick moment he could even remember the feeling of the smaller male's hands running across his head, rubbing his scalp, and playing with different sections of his hair.

It was one of the many memories he had of the two of them, and he cherished each and every one.

He'd never forget the way Y/N's eyes lit up when he talked about his favorite shows and movies, or the way his face would scrunch up in concentration when he was working on a particularly difficult math problem. He always hated math.

Conner would never forget the way his heart would race and his stomach would flutter when he'd catch the smaller boy staring at him, or the way his cheeks would flush and his lips would curl into a smile when he'd catch him. He'd never forget the way his body felt pressed against his, or the way his lips tasted, or the way his skin felt under his fingertips.

The way his name sounded rolling off his tongue, or the way his voice sounded when he was moaning his name. He'd never forget the way his touch made him feel, or the way his presence made him feel. He'd never forget the way his love made him feel.

A particular memory came to mind when Conner was attending the boarding school to watch and protect his boyfriend. It was one of the last peaceful nights he remembered having with him before Y/N found out his parents were coming to the school and their lives were turned upside down.

They were thinking of their lives at the school, wondering what their lives would be like if they didn't have to worry about Lex or his parents. It was something of a dream.

Like a little teaser into what their lives would be like when they were past this entire mess. When all was said and done, Y/N fully intended to follow through on his boyfriend's many invitations to move into the Cave and transfer to Happy Harbor. He definitely wouldn't go back to living with his parents, even if they had changed their minds and views on superheroes and the Justice League.

It was something he and the Kryptonian talked about often, even more, when they found moments of quiet on campus and even before.

The couple was currently lying in Conner's dorm room on his bed, the Kryptonian holding his smaller boyfriend against his body as he slowly regained his strength after another testing session that almost sent him into a mild seizure. Lex was only getting more determined and ruthless in these experiments, throwing all caution to the wind and instructing the scientists to use whatever they had.

Conner was more than angry and was ready to find the bald man and rip his head off his body, but he knew Y/N needed him more at that moment. One of the undercover League agents knew what was going on and supplied the Kryptonian with emergency tools that the scientists at S.T.A.R. Labs said it would be safe to use in case Y/N had any bad reactions to some of the tests.

Thankfully, Conner's roommate was gone for the night, so they didn't have to worry about him coming back. They lay on his bed in quiet, both staring out the large window of the dorm at the bright moon in the cloudless sky. Y/N's body was racked with a small shudder and/or twitch now and then, but for the most part, he was calm and he was comfortable feeling completely at peace and safe in the Kryptonian's arms.

Something was on his mind though, something the Kryptonian could tell he was waiting to ask as he felt his boyfriend's fingers tapping softly against pec, "What's on your mind, babe?"

The smaller boy felt a small smile spreading across his face, the blushing feeling in his chest at how well his boyfriend knew him, sensing when he had something that was bothering him or just weighing on his mind, "Why couldn't we just stay in your room that night forever?"

The Kryptonian couldn't help but smile at the memory, "If I remember correctly, that's exactly what I was trying to get you to agree to, but someone wanted to be stubborn."

"That someone has a name, thank you," He said, his voice muffled slightly, but the humor was still evident.

"Yeah, and they're also an idiot," Conner retorted, feeling the light smack against his chest.

"I hate you."

"No, you don't," Conner responded.

"No, I don't," Y/N confirmed.

The air was silent for a moment, as they just lay there in each other's presence, holding on to as much of the peaceful moment as they could, knowing at some point, reality would come knocking to pull them out of the safe space that was each other's presence.

"You know we can have that, right?" Conner asked.

Y/N looked up at his Kryptonian, "Have what?"

"Forever. Like you said that night in my room, we can have that. You can stay at the Cave with me, Zatanna, and M'Gann and you can share my room with me. You can transfer to Happy Harbor and we can go to school together. I'll even join the football team and let you be my cheerleader like in all those dumb movies you have me watch with you," Conner explained, his voice growing softer as he laid out their future together.

"First off, don't act like you don't enjoy those movies just as much as I do. Secondly, if anything, I'd be on the football team and you'd be my cheerleader," Y/N retorted, the Kryptonian scoffing at the mere idea of that even happening, "And, lastly, don't think I'm not on to you and you're real intentions of trying to get me to share a room with you."

Conner's mischievous smile along with his peculiar hand placement gave away the Kryptonian's thoughts at his boyfriend's words, "I have no idea what you're suggesting. But, even if I did, I'm your boyfriend, so I'd argue that I'm allowed to have those intentions."

"And that's why I'll be making sure I get my own room," Y/N smirked.

"Not if I can help it," Conner retorted, before leaning down and pressing a kiss to his boyfriend's lips.

"You're impossible," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.

"But, you love me," Conner replied, his voice equally as soft and his eyes full of love.

"I do," Y/N said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I love you."

"I love you too," Conner said, his voice matching his boyfriend's, leaning down to press another kiss, this one deeper against the smaller boy's lips.

"We'll have that, right? We'll have our forever?" Y/N asked when they eventually broke apart.

"Of course, we will. I promise," Conner said, his voice firm and his eyes serious.

"Good," Y/N said, his voice soft and his eyes full of hope and love.

"Good," Conner repeated, his voice soft and his eyes full of love.

"Hey, Supey, you in here?" Wally's voice called out, startling the Kryptonian from his memories.

He and Dick walked into the mission room, finding the Kryptonian standing in front of the computer, watching the interrogation videos.

"What are you doing?"

"Watching the interrogation videos," Conner answered, his voice cold and devoid of emotion.

"Again? Dude, you've watched those a million times. You're not going to find anything new," Wally said, his voice a bit exasperated.

"Maybe not, but I'm not going to stop looking," Conner said, his tone leaving no room for argument.

"Dude, you can't keep torturing yourself like this. We've exhausted every option, and haven't gotten anywhere. Maybe you're right, and he's not actually dead. But, if he hasn't come back yet, maybe it's time for you to move on. You can't spend the rest of your life looking for him," Wally said, his voice a bit firmer and more serious.

"And did you ever consider that maybe he hasn't come back because he's being held captive, and hasn't managed to escape?" Conner asked, not even turning an eye to the speedster as he continued watching the videos.

"Yes, we have considered the idea. But, have you considered the possibility that he actually may just be dead?" Wally blurted.

Conner visibly tensed at the suggestion, Dick throwing a nervous look toward the speedster who looked well aware and positively anxious at his word choice. A few moments of silence passed as the next video loaded, neither of the two males knowing what to say before the Kryptonian replied.

"He's not dead."

"And how do you know that?" Dick asked softly.

"Because I just do, Dick. Alright, is that good enough for the two of you?" Conner snapped.

"No, it's not," Wally spoke, his voice a bit firmer, "You do realize it's scientifically impossible for you to have some psychic connection that tells you if Y/N is alive. You need to face reality."

"Dude, back off," Dick said, seeing how the speedster's words were starting to get to the Kryptonian.

"No, I'm not backing off. He needs to hear this. He's not going to wake up and accept the facts until someone makes him," Wally argued.

"Okay, KF. I get what you mean. But, this isn't going to help anything." Dick tried to warn his friend of the increasingly agitated Kryptonian, but it seemed Wally also was no longer listening.

"Face the facts, Conner. He's not coming back. And, if he is, which is highly unlikely, it's not going to be anytime soon. You can't keep doing this. We're all worried about you. You need help, man," Wally said.

"Wally, dude seriously, chill out," Dick said.

"What I need is for you to leave me alone," Conner growled, his hands clenched into fists.

"I'm not going to leave you alone. Not until you accept the truth. He's gone, Conner. And, he's not coming back," Wally said, his voice stern and unwavering.

"No's he not," Conner said, his voice low and his tone dangerous.

"Then, where is he?! Huh, Conner?! Where is he?!"

"KF, cut it out."

"What's going on in here?" Kaldur said, entering the mission room along with the girls.

"Nothing," Conner growled, his eyes turning back to the screen.

"It doesn't sound like nothing," Artemis said, her arms crossed.

"Well, it is. So, leave me alone," Conner said, his voice a bit louder and his tone a bit harsher.

"Conner, are you alright?" M'Gann asked, her voice soft and concerned.

"I'm fine," He growled.

"Are you sure? Because you're not acting like it," Artemis said, her voice a little more firm.

"Artemis," Kaldur warned.

"No, she's right. He's not," Wally said, "He's been watching the interrogation videos again."

"Dude," Dick turned to his friend with a warning tone knowing where this would lead if it wasn't put to a stop.

"What? It's true. He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is dead," Wally said, his voice a bit louder.

"Seriously, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit more firm.

"No, I'm not going to stop. In fact, I told you we should've deleted these videos a long time ago. He's been obsessing over them," Wally said, his voice rising.

That got Conner's attention again, and everyone could see it by the furious twitch in his brow.

"Wally, knock it off," Dick said, his voice a bit louder.

"No, dude! He's not listening to us. He's not listening to the League. He's not listening to anyone. He's not listening to the facts. He's not even listening to his own heart, He's not accepting the fact that Y/N is gone," Wally yelled, his voice getting louder and louder.

"Wally, drop it!" Kaldur shouted.

"He's not coming back, Conner. He's not coming back. He's not-"

"Shut up," Conner growled.

"He's not coming back. He's dead, Conner! Are you listening to me right now? Y/N is dead!"

"I said shut up!" Conner roared, his fist flying and hitting the speedster square in the jaw, sending him flying across the room until he landed on the floor by the wall with a sickening thud.

"Conner!"

"Wally!"

Artemis, M'Gann, and Zatanna ran over to Wally to check on him while Kal and Dick shoved Conner away from the computer.

"Dude, what the hell," Dick yelled, his voice a mix of anger and shock.

"He deserved it," Conner growled, his fists clenched and his body shaking.

"You didn't have to hit him," Kaldur said, his voice a mixture of concern and frustration.

"Yes, I did. He wouldn't shut up," Conner said, his voice cold and his eyes full of rage.

Neither would admit it, but both males were very unsettled by the dark and dead look that seemed to be cast over their friend as he stared back at them blankly. If they both unconsciously stepped back to ensure they weren't within swinging distance, it wasn't anyone's business but their own.

"Conner, you can't just go around hitting people because they're saying things you don't want to hear," Kaldur said, his voice a combination of authority and worry.

"Yes, I can. Especially when they're saying things that are wrong," Conner said, his voice still calm and his eyes still cold.

"He's not wrong, Conner. We've all accepted the fact that Y/N is gone. And, it's time you do the same," Kaldur said, his voice a bit sterner.

"I'm not accepting anything," Conner said, his voice a bit louder.

"Conner, you have to. You can't keep living like this," Kaldur said, his voice growing softer and his eyes pleading.

"Apparently, Kal, you've got the same listening issue as Dick and everyone else around here. I'd say it in Atlantean for you, but I don't speak fish so I guess you're just going to have to deal with English. I'm not accepting anything. I'm not giving up. I'm not going to stop looking for him. I'm not going to stop believing. I'm not going to stop hoping. And, I'm not going to stop loving him," Conner said, his voice a lot louder and his eyes a lot colder.

A small groan was heard from the other side of the room, as Artemis and M'Gann managed to prop Wally over their shoulders, getting him back on his feet slowly.

"Hopefully, this teaches you to keep your mouth shut in the future," Conner said before walking off, his teammates watching his retreating back in silence.

"Dude, what the hell," Wally groaned, his head throbbing.

"You deserved it," Artemis said, her voice a bit harsh.

"What the hell did I do?"

"You're an idiot," She retorted.

"You're not wrong," Dick agreed, "You shouldn't have pushed him like that."

"I was just trying to get him to listen," Wally defended.

"Yeah, and you did a great job of that," Artemis said sarcastically.

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't think he'd hit me. I didn't think he'd react like that," Wally said.

"Clearly, you didn't think at all," Artemis said, her voice a bit softer.

"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," Wally said, his voice a mix of guilt and regret.

"We know, Wally. We're not mad at you. Well, except him," Dick said.

"We all want to see Conner move on and get better, Wally. But, there's a difference between helping him see the truth and berating him," Kaldur explained.

The speedster just nodded, before feeling Artemis and M'Gann nudge him away, "Come on, idiot. Let's get you to the Medbay so we can clean that lip. Man, you finally get knocked between your teeth, and I can't even say it wasn't from me or that it was justified. Way to ruin my day, dipshit."

"Aren't you just the loveliest," Wally replied sarcastically.

Dick, Kaldur, and Zatanna watched them walk off before turning toward each other.

"What are we going to do?"

"I don't know, Z. I really don't know," Dick answered.

"This is getting out of hand," Kaldur said, his voice a mix of worry and frustration, running a hand down his face.

"Maybe, we should try talking to him again," Zatanna suggested.

"If he reacts the same way he just reacted with Wally, I'd rather avoid it. I was fine with him taking his anger and frustration out on the bad guys, but him doing it to us is a different story," Dick said.

"I agree. We need to find a way to get through to him, and soon before his violent outburst gets worse," Kaldur stated.

"So, no more giving him space then?" Zatanna asked.

"Maybe not necessarily, we don't want to provoke him into open confrontation like Wally just did, but clearly, leaving him alone is only making the problem get worse because he's not acknowledging or dealing with his grief," Kaldur said.

"Agreed. The last thing we need is him going rogue," Dick said.

"Do you think he'd actually do that?" Zatanna asked, her voice a bit worried.

"I don't want to think that, but you've seen the way he's been looking and walking around lately and the one person who could actually get him to listen without being threatened by violence is more than likely buried somewhere. It's almost like being around a ticking time bomb, or worse, walking around someone who's possessed. Kal, tell me you weren't the least bit unsettled with the way he was just looking at us. Like there was nothing behind his eyes besides anger and death," Dick asked his Atlantean friend.

"I was," Kaldur answered, his voice a bit solemn.

"Me too," Zatanna said, her voice a bit quiet.

"Okay, so we're all in agreement. We need to figure out something, and we need to do it soon. Otherwise, the next person who pisses him off might not be so lucky," Dick said.

"Agreed." The two others said.

"Recording in progress. Project: E&D. Log #77..."

The three teens whipped around to the computer, seeing it play a recording none of them ever heard before. They each looked at each other weirdly while listening to the recording, each feeling a little bit unnerved.

"We still haven't found any concrete findings on the source of the subject's abilities, but we have made other fascinating discoveries. According to the parents of the subject, the abilities he displays now all came at different age points in his previous years. First was the enhanced durability, an ability shared by many notable metas and heroes. This power came about in his early childhood, not enough to raise alarms, but enough to have the parents rightfully suspicious."

A sick, ghostly feeling overcame the three teenagers as they realized what they were all listening to.

"Oh. My. God. This is about Y/N!" Zatanna stated.

"And, it's from the experiments Lex was performing on him. This must be from one of the scientists who were working on the project as well." Dick theorized.

"But, I thought Batman, Superman, and the League collected every piece of evidence and recording they could find from that place. We would know since Conner had us listen and watch every single piece of evidence we had in hopes of finding a clue to where he might be. I've never heard this one before," Kaldur pointed out.

The two other team members each shrugged at the Atlantean before they all went back to listening.

"Then, came the power of flight and energy manipulation in his teenage years, which led us to rule out Kryptonian biology after the inhuman speed he developed in his pre-teen years. Since energy manipulation has never been a known or recorded Kryptonian ability, it brought us back to the main three categories we had for the potential answer to the subject's source. But, this discovery along with the new data that's coming in from the tests we've been doing with the serums on his body, has led us to the conclusion that whatever gives the subject these different abilities is active and growing. If these were powers he developed in his early stages of life, it definitely leaves us to question if he will manifest other ones in the future as he ages and develops more."

"Wait, did that guy just say there's a possibility Y/N could grow to develop other powers in the future?"

"He sure did."

"Okay, but, what does any of that have to do with the explosion the day Y/N disappeared?"

"I don't know. But, I have a feeling we're about to find out," Kaldur said, his voice a bit grim.

"The most exciting part is we may have stumbled upon a new power completely by trial and error. After we discovered the unknown pathogen tampering with our serums, we had to reduce the potency and level of our experiments to eliminate any potential risk to the subject's health. But, we found that during one of the experiment sessions post-reduction, when the patient seemed to be under a lot of stress, especially after his conversation with Mr. Luthor, a slight startle from that dunderhead Martin seemingly caused the subject to teleport himself from one end of the room to the other, in theory away from the thing that startled him, i.e. the danger or stressor."

All of their eyes went wide.

"The subject now seems to have unlocked the power of teleportation!"

"Holy shit! Y/N can teleport?!"

"It would appear so, yes."

"With this new ability, the subject could virtually teleport themselves out of situations that pose any danger or stress to them. Imagine the possibilities. If the subject can learn to control and harness this power, it could be the key to the ultimate weapon against the Justice League and their allies. A secret agent, able to sneak into the most secure facilities and locations undetected and unseen. And, if they can't handle the mission, they can simply teleport themselves out of the situation. This is a breakthrough. Unfortunately, since this is an ability the subject unlocked while in a drug-induced state and was not aware of it post-test, Mr. Luthor has instructed no one to inform him of this development, nor does he want any testing of this ability until further notice. Since his discovery of the relationship between the subject and the still liberated Project: K.R., he's been very cagey about things but urging us to speed up our work, as if he's preparing for something. These brainwashed fools may listen to his every word, but I intend to get every piece of data I can from these experiments. Oh- someone's coming. I must end this log early. Grant out."

"Y/N can teleport," Zatanna said, her voice a bit soft.

Dick had a look of realization come over him, "That's why no one could find him. He wasn't vaporized or abducted. He teleported himself away," He said, his voice a mix of relief and realization.

"But, where did he go? And, why hasn't he come back yet?"

"I don't know, Z. But, the fact that we're even asking that question means—"

"Conner was right. Y/N is alive."

The two dark-haired teens turned to their Atlantean leader, who held a relieved but stern gaze over his face as he stared at the recording sitting open on the computer.

"Call Batman and Superman now."

Conner was walking along the beach with Wolf. He needed to get out of the Cave for a little bit, feeling a little bit guilty for how he reacted with Wally. It wasn't completely his fault though!

Wally shouldn't have been pushing his buttons so much. He was basically asking for it.

Either way, the Kryptonian knew he was going to have to apologize at some point. He knew his behavior was getting out of control, and he was aware of how his friends and teammates were starting to feel uneasy around him.

But, he couldn't help it.

All he could think about was Y/N and how much he loved him. How much he missed him back and how much he wanted him back.

He'd give anything to have him back, and he'd do anything to make that happen.

But, maybe his friends were right. Maybe he was chasing a lost dream and it was time for him to move on. Maybe it was time for him to accept the truth.

Conner looked down at the sand, the canine whining at his side as he could sense his human's sad distress, smelling the sad emotions all over him. He blinked repeatedly, trying to hold back the tears pooling in his eyes, but they just kept coming before they were eventually dripping and falling into the sand on the beach.

"I'm sorry, boy. I'm trying. I'm really trying," Conner said, his voice a bit broken.

Wolf barked softly, nudging his head into his human's leg with another whine.

"I know, buddy. I miss him too," Conner said, his voice a bit softer, running his hand across the canine's fur, though he seemed to be poking his snout up at a scent he caught on the wind, his tail wagging back and forth excitedly.

The silence over the beach was so loud, but not louder than the Kryptonian's soft sniffles as he stared out over the water, pulling the folded-up photo out of his pocket. Despite his overwhelming mournful attitude, he couldn't help the small smile that crossed his lips as he stared at the photo of himself, Y/N, and their friends at the beach. The same day he told Y/N he was a clone.

The same day he confessed his feelings for him.

Tears were falling onto the photo.

"I'm sorry," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.

"You know, you really need to stop apologizing so much."

Conner's head shot up.

There was no way. It wasn't possible.

Wolf suddenly shot away from his side, barking happily before the sound of him tackling someone to the ground hit the Kryptonian's eardrums.

There was no fucking way. It couldn't be possible.

He turned around slowly, to see the canine licking the face of the person he was currently lying on top of.

"Okay! Wolf, Sweet Jesus, okay! I missed you too, buddy," Y/N or at least someone that had Y/N's body laughed, his voice a bit muffled from his arms trying to cover his face as the canine tried to lick him.

Conner inched a bit closer, scared out of his mind to take too big of a step and risk the sight in front of him disappearing like an illusion. It'd be really ironic and bittersweet if he was to be actually losing his mind at this moment.

"Y/N?" Conner muttered softly under his breath.

When the smaller figure finally managed to get the excited canine off of him, he uncovered his face looking up at the Kryptonian before smiling that same infectious smile that had Conner's heart spiking and his eyes watering even more than they were before, mirroring the same watery eyes staring back at him.

Y/N slowly stood up, looking at his Conner with red eyes, doing his best to hold in his own tears, "Did ya miss me?"

"Is it really you?" The taller boy asked, still 100% not trusting that he wasn't losing his mind and this wasn't a product of his overly emotional state. This is why it was so much easier to keep shit bottled in.

Y/N didn't say anything for a moment, just staring at him leading Conner to think he really was hallucinating or sleep-walking until he opened his arms toward the Kryptonian, "Open arms?"

Realization hit him and before he even knew what he was doing, the Kryptonian felt his feet moving on their own and his arms were wrapped tightly around his boyfriend, holding him close and tight, almost afraid to let him go.

"Don't you ever leave me again," Conner whispered, his voice a bit broken.

"I won't. I promise," Y/N replied, his voice very broken.

But for the first time in a long time, the young hero finally felt comfortable. He finally felt like he could let his guard down after so long, feeling safe in the arms of his lover.

"I love you, Conner."

"I love you too, Y/N."

They sat just like that for a while, holding each other and finally basking in each other's presence again, "So does forever start now?" Y/N asked through a small sob.

Conner smiled through his own tears, comforting his boyfriend like he used to.

"Yeah, it starts now."

☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[rekino2114]

Welcome back I hope you had a lovely trip

Can I get a meeting with S/O family for the chainsaw man girls

The chainsaw man girls meeting your family

Makima

Your parents were nervous to be meeting with her actually

When you told them you were dating the head of public safety herself, they didn't believe you until you showed them photos, and even then, they were like, "How?"

Makima is very kind and polite throughout the meeting, she makes sure your parents see how much she truly loves you and how she'd do anything for you. She does everything she can to appear as the best girlfriend you could have.....meanwhile your parents are freaking out cause one of the most important women in Japan is standing in their living room and holding hands with their child.

She categorically refuses to use powers on your parents to make them like her as that would hurt you and that's the last thing she would ever wanna do

"I promise you, as long as y/n will be with me they will be loved safe and cared for, all of their needs will be met and I will try to make them the happiest person on this planet"

".............."

"Excuse me, but are you alright? You look nervous"

"O-oh no i-it's alright......please continue"

Power

This.....did not go too well

It's not because you were dating a fiend or anything, your parents were actually pretty supportive of that, it's that power doesn't really have manners.......at all

She talked over them,yelled at them when they served her vegetables, and called them "humans" multiple times

She also brought meowy along with her....she thought bringing a cute cat might get her some points which it actually kinda did

You had to do a lot of.....damage control, but eventually your parents figured out power was a genuinely good "person" and gave her permission to continue dating you

"Listen to me humans you should be grateful the great power has chosen your child to be her romantic partner"

"........please don't stand on the table"

Himeno

She was actually pretty excited to meet your parents and prove herself a good girlfriend

She made sure she was sober and didn't drink the night before to not have a hangover. She did have to put on a lot of perfume on to hide the smell of alcohol and cigarettes though

The meeting went pretty well, himeno was nice,fun and showed them her love for you.....she also flirted a lot with you but you're used to that at this point

If you have any little siblings, then she's like the cool big sister in their eyes. she gave them piggyback rides, played with them, and showed them some cool tricks with her ghost devil powers

"Nice to meet you Mr and Mrs l/n, it's great to finally meet the people who gave birth to this cutie"

".......even now?"

"What? Is there a problem with me showing how much I love you?"

Kobeni higashiyama

As usual, she was very nervous to meet your family, she loves you and was very scared of them not approving of her for any reason

She tried to look her best and only had 2 panic attacks while getting ready

She was very relieved when the meeting actually went well and your parents approved of her, it was like a giant weight got lifted off of her

She doesn't have the best relationship with her family so she's really happy at least yours like her

"I-it's nice to m-meet you, m-my name is k-kobeni higashiyama, I-i am y/n's g-girlfriend"

"......are you OK? You're shaking"

"Y-yeah, t-totally fine"

Quanxi

Despite her many partners, this was actually going to be the first time she met one of their families since all of the other members of the harem are fiends and don't really have families as a result

Speaking of, you decided to keep the whole harem thing a secret for now to not overwhelm your parents

She left her swords at home and put on her best suits to go to the meeting, where she held your hand most of the time and let you do most of the talking

To be honest, your parents are kinda scared of her. It seems like her one eye is always glaring and judging them, but they can still see the loving looks she gives you and eventually grow to like her

"Mr and Mrs l/n, I promise you I will protect y/n with everything I have, I will die before I let anyone hurt the people I love especially them"

".......I think I got a shiver down my spine"

"Me too"

Asa mitaka

Another girl who was really nervous about the meeting, she has a pretty low self-esteem and she thought your family would hate her for anything she did

She literally begged yoru not to ruin the occasion as she at least wanted the opportunity to look like a good girlfriend, and the war devil surprisingly agreed (maybe because she wanted to watch asa embarass herself of her own)

She tried to strike up conversations with your parents....keyword being try, this often results in voids of uncomfortable silence that you try to fill

In large parts thanks to you eventually your parents grew to like asa and approved of her, which she couldn't be happier,after her parents died, she feels like yours could kinda help her deal with that

"I swear this is so boring, I'll take a nap ok?"

"Whatever just don't bother me"

"........Uhm....sorry but who were you talking to?"

"I-i said that out loud?"

"Y-yeah"

"I'M SO SORRY"

Yoru

.......this was....weird. you can't really say "Hey mom,dad, I'm dating the literar representation of war that's possessing the body of one of my classmates" so you decided to improvise

Yoru pretended to be a human, she covered her scars with makeup and put contacts to cover her horseman eyes. Your parents were kinda surprised to how similar she was to asa so you decided to say they were sisters

Yoru was kinda unpleasant the whole dinner, saying snarky comments and laughing at inappropriate times but you convinced them that she was a good girlfriend

She had to stop herself from laughing when your dad gave her a warning not to break your heart as she could easily kill him right there if she wanted....she didn't though thankfully

"So what did you think about my parents?"

"Oh they were great, I'm sure they'd make really powerful weapons"

"........don't-don't turn my parents into weapons"

"Calm down I was just joking"

Fami

She was actually fairly excited to meet your family.....mostly for the food they'd be serving her, in fact you specifically told your parents to cook a lot for her

She tried to eat with more etiquette than she usually has,but kinda gave up halfway through when she realized just how good the food was

When she's not eating, she's telling them how much she loves you and how she'll cherish you and protect you forever, which makes you blush and them like her even more

Your mom actually loves her and asks you to invite her more often since fami eats everything she cooks

"Your cooking is great"

"Oh thank you, you really like food don't you?"

"I love it, the only thing I love more is your child"

[pursuitseternal]

✨⚔️Chapter 3–“Little Huntress:” update to “Love Me, Hate Me” ⚔️✨Enemies to lovers retelling

Astarion x Tav (Katja) | M chapter | 3.8 K

🎨 by @dafna-winchester

Summary: After being bitten, Katja spends a restless night, learning for once that monsters are sometimes made… not born. One wayfairing stranger makes her confront these feelings, forcing her to question that straighter and narrow view of the Gur… much to Astarion’s delight.

CW: Act 1 spoilers, Astarion’s trauma rears its head, corruption kink incoming, Gandrel scene retelling

Previous ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

Katja tossed and turned and then tossed some more.

Blood replenished, but her stomach curled in on itself with hate and disgust. At least, yeah, that’s what she thought it was. Sitting up in her dark tent, legs tangled in her bedroll, she stared at her wrist in the dim light of dawn. Those fang marks stared right back at her, angry, red circles ringed in darker flesh from the ice of his bite.

It… wasn’t supposed to feel that good, was it? She flopped herself back down on her other side. Or maybe it was, maybe it was supposed to pull her under his spell, weaken her constitution to make her hot and wet and dripping with the need for his cool touch on her cheek and between her…

“Fuck,” she hissed to herself, kicking her covers off completely. It was no use, she would be miserable tomorrow with no sleep.

Maybe just some fresh air? Just a walk to clear her head… the rest of the revelry had shut down long ago, the fires smoldering. With everyone so drunk, no one stayed awake to stoke it, she realized.

Dangerous. Katja groaned, taking on the responsibility that, once again, no one else noticed. She grabbed some grass, some sticks, poking and feeding the fire until it was strong again. Strong enough to keep the scary monsters away.

“I might have one good eye,” a warm, jovial voice spoke from behind her, “but I can see you got to fire-tending before me.”

Wyll stood calmly behind her, his face turned into that casual, confident grin. It made Katja’s heart steady, even as it made her wrist sting with pain and shame. “Well, I figure if you want something done right… “ She reached far enough over for another log from the pile, the cuff of her sleeve creeping up to reveal those angry, red circles.

Fang marks.

Any monster hunter worth his salt would recognize them.

And Wyll was worth… a lot of salt.

“Katja,” he whispered, watching as she gruffly pulled her sleeve back over the bite wounds. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” came her reply. For once, her cold, distant, grumpy nature worked in her favor and hid the lie. “You should see the other guy,” she made her lips laugh.

“I bet he looks sated, happy, and stronger,” Wyll jested back, folding his arms over his chest. “I may have just joined your party, but I can see the tragic charm of your… friend.”

“He’s not my friend,” she interrupted with vehemence, standing and squaring her shoulders, ready to argue.

But Wyll just laughed, warm and rolling, holding his hands up in surrender. “Easy, Barbarian,” he spoke in jovial tones. “I’m not judging. I might have killed my fair share of monsters and fiends, but never a vampire. Those are harder to find outside their hunting grounds. They don’t make themselves as… dramatically obvious as our companion.”

“Dramatically obvious? You mean loud and annoying,” Katja rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t resist glancing at his rose and scarlet tent where he was trancing.

“At the very least, he might be a menace and an egomaniac with a flair for the dramatic and a penchant for bloodshed, but Astarion isn’t soulless, heartless, or of the infernal persuasion.” Wyll trailed off, a distant look in his one good eye. “You’re not beholding your soul to anything truly evil…”

Katja scowled. “How can you say that?” she scoffed, grinding her own booted toe in the dirt and ash. “Aren’t you the Blade of Frontiers, the best monster hunter on the Sword Coast? You should be appalled at me… tell me I’ll be banished from Selûne’s light just for thinking all the depraved… impure… unholy…”

“Ah, ta, ta,” Wyll stopped her, frantically waving his arms. “I’m a Warlock, not a Priest. I don’t need your confession, by Balduran’s beard.” He shifted uncomfortable on his feet for a moment, and Katja wanted nothing more than to be divinely smitten right then and there.

“Gods… I don’t know what to do,” she sighed, her scarred face looking into the night sky, a canvas for her inner turmoil. “He told me if I let him feed, I can have the head of his Master as a bounty for my tribe. I’ll be Chief Hunter for sure, but…” That face grimaced with something other than pain.

“Katja,” Wyll spoke softly, assuringly. “I’ll be the first to admit ignorance on the ways of the Gur, but I do know one thing about battles— the enemy of my enemy is my….” He gave a flourish with his hand, waiting for her to finish the tried and true phrase.

Katja just waited, dark eyes wide and waiting on his wisdom. “What?” she asked, a few beats of silence later.

“Seriously?” Wyll’s face broke into a goodhumored and skeptical grin. “Friend. The enemy of my enemy is my friend.”

“Astarion is not… my friend,” Katja’s hackles bristled at the mere insinuation. Again.

“It’s a phrase? Like, choosing the lesser of two evils?”

“Why would I want a lesser evil?” Katha shook her braided head. “I want the no-evil-option.”

Wyll gave a heavy sigh. “What I mean is… maybe Astarion isn’t as he appears at first. Some monsters are born…. Others are made.”

That made her pause, her little nose scrunching, her blonde head tilting. Her dark eyes darted to Astarion trancing on his bedroll in front of his tent. Even from here, she could see the little rise and fall of his chest, taking sleepy breaths he technically didn’t need. His fingers curled into that shape Elves did. His pointed ears twitched in his reverie, whatever he relived in his meditations clearly affected him. His jaw clenched, and those breaths came faster and more frantic.

She hadn’t even noticed that Wyll had withdrawn to sit by the fire, or that her feet had led her closer to observe Astarion in his rest. He muttered to himself, names and grunts that sounded half-formed in his throat. If she crouched… yes, if she crouched she could hear names— Dal… Petras… Violet… Cazador. That last one was a snarl on his lips as his eyes flashed open. His breath was too quick, his eyes dark and dilated with rage, and… were those tears pooling in the corner of his eyes?

Unsure what came over her, but she reached out to soothe that pain. Katja pressed a hand to his own, only to get a face full of fangs and death-cold breath as he pinned her under him in the dirt.

“What are you doing?” he snarled, his thighs trapping her waist, his hands grabbed tight on her wrist and the other now on her throat. But in two blinks of his eyes, he released her. Her hands and throat at least. He raised himself up, a smirk on his sweaty face as he kept her pinned beneath his legs.

“And here I thought I was the nightcrawler that slipped into beds to seduce the sleeping…” he purred, but his voice seemed a little tight, less velvety than his usual simpering tones. “What’s wrong, darling? Come for a cuddle?”

“Get off me. I was just trying to help,” she snarled, pushing on his belly and thrashing beneath him.

“Oh, I bet you were,” he leaned down again, “in fact I can think of something very hard you could help me with… maybe a few times….”

Katja stared at him, neither angry nor submissive. Just those dark eyes boring up into his face as she stilled. “What was your nightmare about?”

Astarion froze for the splittest second. Then he breathed a laugh. “I wasn’t having a…”

“Who’s Dal and Petra’s and Violet?” she interrupted.

A reluctant groan, and he slipped off her, settling with one knee bent into his chest, his head tilted back to look into the stars. “My siblings,” he muttered after a moment. “Not… not my literal siblings, mind you, the other six spawn Cazador sired.” For that moment, as the moonlight bathed his pale skin, making his silver hair glow as if it were kissed by the stars, Katja’s heart stopped. He could have been any ordinary seductive Elf, with his mouth shut and his eyes closed.

Sitting up, she waited for more. But he didn’t offer anything, not yet.

“Why were you crying and thrashing and…”

“Alright, enough, you intrusive vagrant,” Astarion leveled his crimson glare at her, unamused… well maybe a little amused. “Cazador would send me and my six siblings into the city to bring him victims, we… couldn’t say no, compelled by him and his every dark whim. I had to lure his prey back to the palace by every means necessary, most especially with the gifts I was given…” He gestured dramatically the whole length of his body, from shimmering grey hair, to his bare chest, to the tips of his unclad toes. “If we failed, or disobeyed, or resisted, he would torture us… or even compel us to torture ourselves.”

His hand gripped around hers like a vice, pulling her closer as he twisted around. “You were too busy hating my undead guts to probably notice, but here…” As he turned, he placed her hand on the back of his shoulder. Rises and ridges, jagged and rough script circled in scars across his whole back.

“Moonmaiden’s light…” Katja whispered in shock.

“More like Cazador’s sadism,” Astarion scoffed in derision. “It’s a poem, composed and carved in my flesh one night, punishment for nothing more than the fact I existed.”

Katja couldn’t help herself, her fingers running over the weird shapes and whorls of his cool flesh. “Reason enough for nightmares…” she murmured.

Astarion turned once more, his finger tracing down her own jagged line in her cheek’s flesh. “Well, you told me of your scars,” he shrugged, almost gently, “I figured maybe I could do the same, since we do have our little… understanding now.” That look of vague kindness shifted, twisting back into that smirk of suave seduction. “And… I might have noticed that you didn’t stab me in the back, given the opportunity.”

“Don’t hold your blood-stinking breath, vampire,” Katja scowled in that little way of hers. “Just because I’m not killing you doesn’t mean I like you.”

“I’d be offended if you did like me, or if you stopped having murderous thoughts about me,” he crooned.

Katja grinned, turning her head and brushing her hands together to hide it as she stood. “Night,” she bid politely. Too politely.

His hand gripped hers roughly from her side. His thumb tracing over the fresh mark. “I think that tortuous nightmare left me… strained,” he purred, voice smooth as Cormyran silk. “You wouldn't mind soothing me a bit more with one last nibble, would you?”

Katja clenched her teeth, begrudgingly sitting back down on his bedroll. Their bodies decently far apart, she judged with a satisfied smile.

His bite was no less painful this time… nor less pleasurable. She tried to hide the way her back arched, concealing that tiniest clench of her thighs and her cunt. But more unnerving was how he just… stared at her.

He only took a few polite swallows before his tongue jutted out to lick the puncture wounds closed. “Finished?” she sniped at him, pulling her wrist away with white hot hostility.

Astarion just smiled and licked his lips, dabbing a finger at the bloodied corner of his mouth. “For now, my little treat,” he replied, a voice of silken seduction and venom all at once. “Don’t forget to say your prayers before you sleep,” he called, that sadistic lilt in his honeyed voice.

And Katja grumbled as she slapped her tent flap closed behind her. “Moonmaiden, deliver me…” came her prayer.

As she wrapped her hand around those icy wounds in her wrist, she ignored the needling thoughts in her brain… Did she really want to be delivered from this… from him?

The next morning was filled with acrid bog stink and rot. Katja could sense it, the Hag’s lands rife with dark magic meant to eat you alive. No way in the nine hells would she let some Hag offer her a cure. Gods…. If she thought about it long enough, she realized this was one story she could never tell to her tribe.

If she ever saw them again, that was.

It was just one monster after another… infecting her, helping her, possibly curing her… fucking and feeding from her….

With that though, Astarion turned his head, smirking over his shoulder. Fuck, Katja wondered, was he listiening through the tadpole?

A nice solid glower only made him scowl in return before focusing back on the road ahead. Katja took that as a victory. She’d show him she wouldn’t cow to all his demands; she might agree to make him stay strong with the boon of her blood, but he wouldn’t order her or control her… or dominate her…

Oh, that last one made her shiver just a little. Swallowing, she forced away the ghosts of his touch on her body and the memory of his mouth on her skin. Focus on finding the Hag, she reminded herself. Focus on the vapors of the bog and that stink of powdered iron vine…

Powdered iron vine? She froze in her tracks and squinted up the hill. “Astarion,” she hissed.

“Yes darling?” he turned and walked backwards, hands gripped into the straps of his pack, “I thought you were pretending I didn’t exist, too ashamed of your lover of a Vampire Sp—”

Katja lurched forward and clapped her palm over his sneering, ignorant mouth.

“What the hells do you think…” he muttered and hissed under her grip.

“Ah, stranger,” a warm voice bid them as a traveler approached them. “Forgive the aroma… Powdered…”

“Iron vine, yes,” Katja interrupted as she awkwardly released Astarion’s mouth, lips that now gaped in disgusted surprise. “Kushti divvus,” she greeted, guessing which dialect of her people he might speak.

Another Gur.

Apparently she guessed correctly as he eased his stance. This Gur was stocky, built for the hunt and the glory of their people. Surely he was the best of his tribe, and by the necklaces and strands of bone trophies and beads on his belt, he always got his quarry. Forcing a smile, she made every sinew in her body follow suit. If he suspected the monster she kept as company… Well, there would go her only chance to use him for Cazador’s head, for her own pride and promotion and future. A prize like that would serve her far more than some weather beaten old coot.

“A fellow child of Selûne here?” the stranger grinned, hands on his hips as his weathered, tanned face grinning wider.

Katja grunted, careful to show deference to an elder. “The scent of iron vine is not unfamiliar to a younger hunter,” she bowed her head. About to reach her hand out in greeting, her gaze caught the fleeting sight of those infernal bite marks. Shame seared through her, and she stuck it in her pocket. “Are you hunting so far out from tribe lands?”

Astarion’s honey voice took that tone that jeered with all the snark in his undead soul. “Pfft, is every Gur a monster hunter? How quaint you have more purpose than just vagrant cutthroats…”

Katja shot him a look, one that was supposed to do as much damage as her axe, one he wasn’t supposed to just blow off with that well-practiced, easy smirk of his. “Ignore the Elf,” she stressed the last word, “he talks too much.”

“Fairest and wisest beings are not my quarry,” the stranger arched a dark brow. “My name is Gandrel, and I am indeed seeking a monster, a Vampire Spawn, in these lands. His name is Astarion, and I am to bring him back with me to my tribe. I hope that the Hag of these lands will help me flush him out after the sun sets tonight.”

“Is that wise? Using one monster to trap another?” Katja folded her arms, insolence edging her tone. “If he’s just a Spawn, why risk more of your soul to seek aid from a disgusting Hag?”

Gandrel paused, his dark eyes skimming over the short little Barbarian, that glance quickly taking in each of her companions. Then, he scanned her up and down, no detail would be missed, not with his wizened experience. His brow furrowed in suspicion, his gaze was quick and sharp.

Shit.

“Did your elders not teach you respect, child?” Gandrel suddenly shifted onto his toes. “Your own presence in these lands is… curious, too young and insignificant to be on your own hunt. Which begs me to ask you… how did you come by those fang marks on your wrist?”

Katja could feel Astarion coiling like a spring beside her.

“They are fresh,” Gandrel’s thick, cracked lips turned in a chilling half smile. “And if I didn’t know better, I’d say they were given out of… familiarity. The wrist isn’t a Spawn’s first choice of bite unless they mean to draw out the life of their victim for reasons of torture, mercy, or affection.”

Katja’s pulse was deafening. The burn of shame was immeasurable, only outmatched by the swirling, gut dropping angst that churned in her belly to think that another Gur would take Astarion from her. He was hers… her prize that was. Her chance at the head of a Vampire Lord.

Fuck this guy, she decided.

“Well, Astarion,” Katja gave the Vampire a twisted smirk. “Which one is it?”

The Pale Elf suddenly flexed his muscles, a wide and wicked smile on his face, catching the scent of ambush in the air. “Torture, it’s the torture one,” he purred. “Just to be clear.” Unsheathing his daggers, he bowed his head in mock submission. “Together, my little vagrant?”

“Impossible,” Gandrel’s eyes went wide. “But… the sun!” His panic set in, the inconceivable truth of a daywalking Spawn all but shattering that experienced air.

“The only thing impossible is your survival,” Astarion purred, running a finger down the sharp edge of his blade. “I’m going to enjoy this…”

Only once he was licking Gur blood off his dagger did Astarion finally catch his breath. They paused just off the path, cleaning their blades and resting before finding the same Hag their unwanted intruder had sought. He watched Katja as she knelt by the Gur’s corpse. Rudely, she had denied him feeding from this foe, and his curiosity had gotten the better of him. From the corner of his eyes, he watched as she muttered prayers, placing two coins over his lifeless eyes before standing once more.

It was almost picturesque, this scene of pious devotion and tradition. Two things he loathed. And because they were Gur practices, why that only made him loathe it more.

She took her sweet time standing in that congealing pool of blood before she moved once more. A few paces away, and she stopped and turned to use one of a few spells her tough Barbarian brain knew. “Arde!” she called, and the corpse burst into a mass of flames. Their enemy was no more, just ash and smoke.

Astarion sat back on his heels, narrowing his eyes. Katja was a curiosity, a conundrum he couldn’t quite pick apart. And it irked him to no end. What started as a small way of exacting his revenge against a whole people on one little girl now became… complicated.

He hated the Gur, those cutthroats that took their ignorance out on him one fateful night outside of the Magistrates’ offices. The night he died in this world. Shuddering at the memory, he forced himself to assess this blonde braided beauty more carefully. She stood in a silent vigil, mumbling her Selûnite prayers one after another. She looked so… immaculate, pious, untouchable. Pure. It made his stomach lurch into his throat. In excitement, in anticipation.

A thought niggled the back of his mind, that part of him, ruthlessly cruel and oh so skilled at manipulation, plotted long and hard. Those thoughts reverberated with the notion of how much fun it could be to show her just what she missed on that straight and narrow path of the Gur.

A little corruption would go a long way, he smirked. Besides, he owed her a good time after taking his side.

He suspected her ambition protected him, her need to keep him alive so she could claim Cazador’s death as her final offering to become chief hunter… or whatever those backwater people called it. He didn’t care, so long as someone helped him kill that bastard.

Ever the conundrum, she stepped into the ashes, kicking them up with her boots. As all the dust had settled, then she reached in and retrieved those same two coins.

That… that made him smile. “Well,” he purred and resheathed his dagger, “perhaps there’s some hope for you after all. I was beginning to think you were no fun at all.”

“Why waste two coins?” she harrumphed, putting them in her pocket. “He’s not going to need them in paradise.”

“Yes, yes,” Astarion purred. “Eternal rest grant unto him, etcetera etcetera…” Those crimson eyes leveled at her, all brimming with primal hunger.

Katja shuddered, trying very hard not to feel like a mouse in a trap. Trying hard to remember she was the hunter.

“You know, I could show you a different sort of paradise.” He crept closer on silent feet, the tip on his tongue dabbling the teeny corner of his lips. “You wouldn’t even have to go through death to reach it, perhaps just a little death… once or twice if you’re very responsive.”

Katja’s scarred face twisted into a perplexed frown. “How can anyone die a little?” she sneered.

Undeterred, he grabbed that bitten wrist, pressing his full, smirking lips to that pulsing vein beneath. “Oh my dear, I’m glad you asked. My tent, tonight. Once the others are asleep, I’ll make sure you are thoroughly illuminated, my little huntress.”

[bloodchapell]

the kirkegaard to my camus - armin a.

brief summary: you meet armin in a philosophy class and it seems there is something about him that is drawing you in. after talking over text and in class you propose to read the next story in his book together since you haven’t read it either. you do not read but spend the hour talking about it all.

what to expect: alt and very nerdy reader, equally nerdy armin, mutual pinning, armin being soo awkward

your sword’s note: this is the first delivery of this thing. i may or may not be projecting myself in the reader:0, other than that i love armin sm and love imagining little scenarios of daily things with him rather than just consuming smut like a fiend so this will focus more in the evolution of their relationship —yes there will still be smut eventually but the plot is the main thing rather than the smut. all future parts of this au series available in my mistresslist

It is no surprise that nerds tend to group together, and though you seemed to be a pretty girl with an amazing style, you were the biggest nerd ever. Bland people that could only gossip and talk about relationships were like sunlight for you as an aspiring vampire. You liked being able to sit down and talk about life and death and philosophy and astrology and music and science and conspiracies and everything and anything, and only some kind of people could really fulfill that hunger for comprehension from a mind on the same level.

You were majoring in fashion, but for funsies decided to take a philosophy class as an elective, and there you met Armin. He was shy and seating in the row next to the wall, and since you took insanely long in the morning to do your makeup and choose your clothes, you were moderately late and the only seat available was besides Armin when you got there.

As a proper philosophy class, you had to talk with people and debate, so the professor asked for everyone to talk to the person besides them and boom! You were talking to Armin. The talk started simple, introductions in the most basic sense, but your eyes soon caught a glimpse of the book under his elbow.

“I also like Asimov.” You pointed out and he turned around fully to face you nervously. He could not believe you knew Isaac Asimov. “Well he is the father of the laws of robotics we follow to this day…how could I not know him?”

Armin observed you closely. Your hair had an unusual haircut and he could see that it had been dyed over dye because the color was inconsistent. Your makeup was carefully done and not in a way to alter your features but enhance them and almost as decoration too. Your eyes were fierce and normally he wouldn’t speak to someone that looked like you in fear of being judged, ironically. He had a certain admiration for people that were cool looking, and almost some sort of envy. In the depth of your eyes that waited for him to say something he felt enthralled by you.

To say he was quietly fascinated is low. He caught an almost immediate crush on you and though he was too shy to talk, he found himself quickly comfortable knowing that you would start the conversations during class. That same day, you asked for his number and texted him right away.

As soon as he arrived to his dormitory, he sat down in his bed, ignored Eren, and texted you nonstop. Talking about simple things and confusing things could take you both hours, and the topic of the conversation swiftly changed and made the texting an ongoing conversation. You both went to sleep pretty late that night.

You two only shared one class, but had some gaps in your schedules that matched and by your own proposal, you two started hanging out together as often as possible. You had no other close friends, to Armin’s surprise, and his friends were often busy. For your first outing with him out of class you decided to go to the library since you both were yet to read Nightfall by Asimov so you asked to read it together in the library after class over text and though he was extremely hesitant, Eren convinced him of accepting.

“Hiii!” You said waiting for him in the entrance of the library. He didn’t know what brand it was but his eyes were immediately captivated by your h.NAOTO coat and the long Anna Sui black dress you decided to wear for the day.

“Hello.” Kind of shy he started. Initially he didn’t understand why you’d want to be seen with him, as if he was convinced –and he was– that having him by your side would take off aura points from you. He eventually got that you were beyond the comprehension of the average fellow and having such a knowledgeable person as he is as a friend was even an honor for you. He remembered Eren’s words: to compliment you. So he did. “I like your coat.”

“Well thanks, I also like your jacket, very dark academia-ish.” You laughed and walked inside the library. Armin was nervous as hell, he didn’t know where to put his hands or how to carry the book, suddenly his phone was seating uncomfortable in his pocket and the tag of his shirt started tickling his side, just as if everything was against him in that precise moment.

When you reached an area that was silent and a little secluded, you asked Armin if he wanted to seat by the window and when he agreed you two pushed two small sofas together.

“Did you finish reading The End of Eternity?” You asked taking off the coat and putting it in your lap. He nodded trying to make some eye contact. “Did you like the ending?”

“Yes, it makes sense, both sides make sense but I think I lean more towards supporting the Eternals, having a controlled and stable future seems better.” Armin said playing with the pages of the book in his hands, a collection of some works by Asimov. He had wished for the longest time to have a friend with whom he could discuss complicated things, he had imagined in his head that it’d be another nerd guy just like him or something; he had not expected for his wish to be granted in the form of a seemingly unreachable and mysterious goddess. He cringed at himself.

“Yeah stability does for sure sound calming, but don’t you think that it is kind of boring?” You inquired and he simply looked at you in hopes you’d expand your thought. “For sure stability is necessary, but controlling every possible outcome that seems negative can withhold progress, and what is better than to be better… uhmm for example, I wouldn’t like all my pieces to feel the same or look the same; amongst several fails something has to succeed. Mistakes are the road to progress after all.”

“Yeah I guess so too…” After a good second of silence, Armin said. “I guess if we are scared of failure we are consequently avoiding possible success.” He laughed softly and you smiled at him; he immediately thought you had a pretty smile.

Truth be told it was pretty easy for him to develop a crush on someone, but most were fundamentally just neutral, he saw someone and built their persona in his mind according to the information he had of them and would stay with that. It was different with you though, he started to believe there were genuine reasons for him to like you, you were of course beautiful and fashionable and cool, but you were also intelligent and thoughtful.

“Are you not afraid of making mistakes?” He suddenly asked and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I don’t think I am that honorable. Mistakes are a pain in the ass but I guess I am not going out of my way to avoid making a mistake… it is a complicated thought.” You mentioned and he nodded as in trying to make sense of every word that came out of your mouth, as if they were words that could prophesy the meaning behind existence itself.

“That is so absurdist.” Armin laughed.

“So precise of me, so accurate of you to guess my philosophical current.”

“Absurdism, that is crazy. Guess mine.”

“Be the Kierkegaard to my Camus?” You asked taking off a ring from your hands and offering it to him. “I once read something by Kierkegaard in high school and it genuinely made my brain hurt.”

“He is a little complex.” Armin laughed softly without knowing how to react. You had guessed correctly and he knew, you didn’t even have to say the actual word, simply replacing “existentialism” by making an allusion of yourself as Albert Camus, father of absurdism, and of him as Søren Kierkegaard, father of existentialism; it was as if you were proving to him that you understood what he was talking about.

The silver ring did not fit in any of his fingers but his pinky, so there he wore it.

“Do I need to give the ring back?” He asked seconds after you put it in his right hand.

“Hmm you can keep it if you plan on using it next time.” You said standing up. The hour had passed already and your class was starting soon so you needed to go. “See you soon, next time let’s not get distracted and actually read.”

“Okay.” He waved goodbye from his seat and after you left he glanced at the ring for good ten minutes, your words just repeating over and over again in his mind, “next time”.

[rimeswithpurple]

Good morning! Thank you @monbons for the tag! I'm still buzzing from @palimpsessed's remix of my COC artwork, it's truly stunning!

The kids are back in school and the house is quiet again. It was a little harrowing at first because I was behind on sewing Littlest Purple's uniform, so I was sewing the next day's outfit the night before. Towards the end of the week, I caught up and eventually found the time to draw.

My CORB concepts are submitted and I can't wait to see what everyone has come up with! After a pivot on my artwork for chapter 3 of Time Will Lie Down & Be Still, I'm plugging away and I'm much happier with the results. Here's a peak of the good old Baz Pitch Sneer™ and the beginning of chapter artwork!

The tiniest bit of a tattoo is gonna be visible on Dev, so did I design a whole ass tattoo? Of course I did! @blackberrysummerblog and I threw around some ideas and I also grabbed some inspo from the fic, Sword of Mages Tattoo. If you're curious, I used coriander, oleander and camellias.

This really made me want to get another tattoo, so maybe I'll get off my butt and finish my Vegas vampire concept

No pressure tags and hellos below!

@talentpiper11 @messofthejess @valeffelees @artsyunderstudy @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @bookish-bogwitch @facewithoutheart @thewholelemon @larkral @run-for-chamo-miles @roomwithanopenfire @fiend-for-culture @cosmicalart @mooncello @that-disabled-princess @cutestkilla @noblecorgi @iamamythologicalcreature @best--dress @emeryhall @ileadacharmedlife @drowninginships @supercutedinosaurs @whatevertheweather @rbkzz @ebbpettier @cccloudsss @theimpossibledemon @katatsumuli @thehoneyedhufflepuff @theearlgreymage @theotherhufflepuff @onepintobean @orange-peony @hushed-chorus @fatalfangirl @ic3-que3n @bazzybelle @martsonmars @aristocratic-otter @shrekgogurt @alexalexinii @prettygoododds @ivelovedhimthroughworse @raenestee @skeedelvee

[lullabyalikpoptarot]

Ateez Green/Yellow/Red Flags in Relationships

Now time to see what I get from this group. I don't think any of them gave me any toxic vibes from their love readings, but this reading does expose these sides, so let's see what I get from them.

Hongjoong

Green (The Sun) He is vibrant and warm. You will have a great time when you are with him. He will make his partner feel great. I see a lot of joy and fun times with him as a boyfriend. He is like a bright light to his partner. He will definitely lift up the spirits of his partner when he is around them.

Yellow (The Lovers rv) I am not sure why entanglement is popping up here. He may put himself in situations to cheat. I am not sure he actively pursues someone to cheat, but he could get up in it, or do something that can mess up the relationship.

Red (The Fool) Dude is a little too carefree in relationships. He doesn't really take things too seriously. He may very well act innocent and act like he did nothing wrong when he did, or lack awareness that he did something wrong, I get a little dense. I just see him getting caught up in stupid shit, or just do stupid things.

Seonghwa

Green (The Emperor) Well, if you want a strong masculine man who takes the reigns and leads the relationship. This is your type of man. He will very levelheaded, confident and seems pretty smart. He will basically be the man of the relationships, take charge, take the lead, pay for dinners, treat his partner well. I mean I don't see this as the best green flag for myself, but hey, girls may like this. I also see him planning things out as well, so his partner won't have to do that as much either. He will also be a head of the game, not sure why that popped up or how that is a green flag.

Yellow (King of Pentacles) He will be a provider and supporter for his partner, but don't see him giving much emotional support to be honest. He will also be career focused and most likely be focused at work most of the time. His headspace may be there mostly.

Red (3 of Swords) Yeah, he is a heartbreaker, probably hurt partners in the past. His work may be more important than his partner. He will probably put that first, so if his partner gets in the way, they are gone, or will get a reality check.

Yeah, I will love him from afar lol

Yunho

Green (The Hermit) He is someone who can be very introspective and gives his partner space when need be. He seems to be fine with being on his own, so he wouldn't be dependent on his partner. There is a sense of him knowing himself very well and being a very reflective person, so if he makes mistakes in a relationship, he may be able to grow and learn from them through inner work. I think in healthy relationships spending time alone as well is important and I think he would be that way and would want his partner to do so, to be able to do their own things every so often.

Yellow (King of Wands) Well, he is an Aries man, so yeah. I got he can be a freak, now that could be good or bad depending on what you like lol I guess he could be prone to cheat, maybe sometime assert his dominance, can be a little too much, like too over the top with things. Sometimes he wouldn't be able to control himself. Yeah, could be a bit of a sex fiend. I kept asking my guides what they meant by too much and stuff, to clarify, so I guess that is what they meant lol

Red (Ace of Cups) He could love bomb that shit out of someone. Act emotional to get what he wants. I am getting can be emotionally manipulative. I guess those are characteristics of love bombing, had to look that up, because I heard of it, but didn't really know specific definitions for it, but oh boy I do feel he may do it to get sex to be honest

Yeosang

Green (6 of Pentacles) He will give as much to the relationship as his partner. He wouldn't leave them hanging. It will be a nice equal balance of give and take. He may want a balanced relationship where both pay and play a role in the relationship. I don't see him liking a power in balance in relationships. He sees both parties as equal. Sp, whatever his partner brings. He will bring as much.

Yellow (10 of Wands) He can get overwhelmed and stressed out very quickly. He may feel relationships are too much or a burden for him. Can get stressed a lot in relationships. He may try to put the burden of the relationship on himself, or just do too much.

Red (King of Wands) This card again lol There can be some cockiness or arrogance to him. I get asserting his control, which makes no sense from the other two cards I get and once again this man is a walking contradiction. It is like maybe he will start off acting like the relationships is equal, but then start asserting his dominance further along the relationship. Now, his green flag isn't looking all that great to me, it is like I will sell you this fantasy, give you want what you want, but then once I have you, the real me shows up. He then takes control.

San

Green (6 of Wands) I say he can boost the self-esteem of his partner, cheer them up, hype them up, makes them feel proud of themselves. He will appreciate all their achievements and push them achieve their goals, kind of be a cheerleader. He will be proud of his partner.

Yellow (Emperor) He will need to have some semblance of control. He can lack a little bit of playfulness. May play is safe. A little to strategic and organized. He may not like to do things outside his comfort zone. I get this. I can be this way lol

Red (7 of Pentacles) He may want his partner to depend on him, once again this need for control, so having his partner be dependent on him financially can give him that. He will also feel the need to catch his partner and be there for them in times of need, even if they can handle it on their own. He just wants to be their savior, but sometimes his partner just needs to do things on their own and handle things alone, so he may have trouble staying in his lane. It is like he has to be the one to save his partner.

Overall, this doesn't seem too bad. His partner might need to set some boundaries for him.

Mingi

He is such a Leo, I can't lol

Green (The Sun) Basically the card that represent Leo. He will be in it for a good time. His partner will have lots of fun with him. He is energetic and magnetizing. You would feel in great spirits when you are around him. If his partner is having a bad day. He will make them feel better, lots of adventures when you are with him. I hear life is a play for him.

Yellow (2 of Wands) He may be in it for sex or just the chemistry or attraction. Not really in it for love. That is what he is in it for a good time came in when I did his green flag lol So, if you are looking for romance and love, he may not be it. He may appear that way, but that may not be what he wants in relationships.

Red (5 of Cups) Can be dramatic af as per unevolved Leo. Cry his eyes out if you try to leave him, wallow, could throw a pity party for himself. It can be hard for him to move on, and he may focus on the bad, rather than the good. Yeah, nothing else here.

Wooyoung

Green (2 of Cups) This surprises the me, wtf is this. When was he a romantic. Anyway, he can be sweet, loving, can build a nice strong bond and connection with his partner, could be the type you can have long talks with and never get bored. He is very good at building strong emotional bonds with someone.

Yellow (Ace of Cups) I got pours his heart out to quick. Can get emotionally invested very quick. Can share too much too quickly, bruh this goes against how I see him, so I am struggling with this, but got to go with what I get. I can see that he falls in love with a lot of people, it isn't just one person, now I think I see the yellow flag here. Although, he can connect on an emotional level with someone, his partner may not be the only special person in his life. He pours his heart and love to lots of people, because he is very open, but he never gave me this overly emotional person. I feel this dude got multiple personalities lol

Red (Ace of Wands) Short and sweet, the message I got that had me laughing was he thinks with his dick, there we go. Sometimes he just doesn't really think things through. I don't see him being a monogamous type to be honest.

Jungho

This dude is a mess

Green (5 of Swords) Not seeing how this is a green flag. I guess he can be able to handle an argument well, dish it out and move on. I mean in relationships, fights will happen, so this may be showing me he can handle it. I needed another card, because was not getting green flag from that, so got ace of wands, does fighting bring some sort of excitement for this dude, what is wrong with this dude? Yeah, not going to try to understand this, don't like this vibe at all.

Yellow (The High Priestess) He is a mystery, can be secretive, maybe sneak up on his partner. He will know a lot about his partner but can get a bit invasive and know too much. It will be hard to get to really know him, pretty private person.

Red (3 of Cups) Could like threesome, orgies, in for a good time. Likes to party and maybe meet new people there. A freak, may be into taboo shit

Couldn't get much, because I did not like that energy and had to go through that quickly. I kind of got the ick with him, sorry if you like him. I mean I still like him, but from afar. At the end of the day, we ain't dating them so don't have much stock here. Still love his voice lol

Oh man, this was not great, ya'll they hid this side to them. I feel it gets worse the more I do these wtf Love ya'll from afar. But interesting stuff here.

[cosmic-navel-gazin]

Finished Felvidek and had a grand time!

Thought I'd do a lil list of things/moments/details I loved off the top of my head:

gave cursed coffee bean to a chicken and it mutated. Did it for science

game's got some twin peaks vibes, some monty python, a tad of hylics, along it a bunch of other ingredients, but it feels very much its own thing with its own identity

pear man and his daughters deserve the world, wish we hung out more

there's a fight with an invisible enemy, all your attacks miss because your guys can't see shit and I was laughing just imagining Pavol and Matej swinging their swords at nothing hoping to slay the forest fiend. Very Don Quixote, I love it.

the PS1 style cutscenes are sooooo beautiful I love them to pieces, they drip with style and charm. I knew I needed to give this game a go the moment I watched the trailer and was greeted by the cinematics. God I love them so much. And not just the syle but the directing itself, the way shots are framed, god...

I love the character portraits for everyone. There's so much detail and everyone feels unique/like an actual person with distinct features. From the Priest's very punchable face, to Pavol's grin to Josef's sexy ass... From main characters to NPCs to enemy sprites, I love everyone's design and colour coding (don't know if it was intentional but the purple for the cultists was neat, seemed to subtly imply early on that they were being funded by rich folk, since pruple is associated with nobility, power and wealth)

speaking of character design, shout-out to this lil guy, look at him please

Numnut the drunkard my beloved, I recruited him and less than a minute later he fell on flat ground into a nearby river (and drowns???). I reloaded a previous save to see if I could have him in my party a lil longer. I took a different path, got into a fight. "yay I get to see him in action!"- I thought. I used his one special move, called: 'good idea', and Numnut proceeds to punch his own face, dealing 90 damage (not even in the endgame did I deal such high numbers!). THE Character of all time, he drowned again after that and I'll never forget him.

BALLOON IN THE MIDDLE AGES! (possible Andrei Rublev reference? I can dream...)

just, the way things are worded:

cutting people's ears after killing them as spoils (and giving the ears to a maiden, as you do)

there's a quest where you have to cut a man's tattooed buttock to give to another guy, and it's all for nothing, you ruined a man's ass for nothing. I love it. The dialogue during this whole section had me dying.

I love that there's just this guy who lives in the castle's well. And our boy Pavol thinks it's a great idea to throw a bomb in there to make him come out.

this:

there's these lil inisghtful and mournfoul comments on the dead bodies you leave behind. Like, expressing regret at all the senseless violence and death or how cheap life is here. And I'm not sure if it's Pavol or Matej making them. It makes more sense for it to be Matej but I kinda like the idea of it being Pavol's comments, these small moments of introspection and realization in the midst of a drunken adventure. You've been engaging in all the violence while pissed drunk but then after you kill your opponents and look at their corpses... and it's like this sobering moment, before you're back at it with all the merry-making (I also like that a lot of these bodies don't disappear and just remain on screen, and you can see the carnage your guys leave behind in their quest)

the whole adventure felt to me like, this series of odd little events in a knight's life before it's passed down, told by and retold by different people, and after many generations it's been touched up and made more coherent and noble than the clusterfuck it actually was. Before it became a narrative I guess is what I mean

it can get a bit wordy and hard to follow but I really like the old timey way the dialogue is written and its dry sense of humour

there's these little subversions of gaming tropes that I found really fun too! Like as soon as Pavol's wife and your falling out with her is introduced you may expect a reconciliation between the two, or a moment where you have to save her and prove your worth and love to her to win her heart. As you would expect from a story with a knight and a damsel. But no she hates his guts lmao tries to murder him too! (tho I do think Pavol took her in that balloon ride at the end). There's also the fact that I am not allowed to play minigames! Josef wants to play tabletop games but your character always replies no. No minigames for you son! And like, this feels especially catered to me as someone who, more often than not, will dread whenever a game will introduce some sort of card game or the like. I was so happy that wasn't forced on me for once! Couldn't believe it. Kinda felt bad for Josef tho, I'm sorry Pavol doesn't wanna play Pexeso wth you.

the battle animations! I'm particularly fond of the eating porridge one, or the chugging down a bucket of sour cream, and the petard

the little *slaps face* animation

Pavol and Matej as a duo and the whole tavern scene with the two exchanging clothes

the lil moments of humanity where Pavol talks about his broken life and sense of self

the rare moments when Pavol stops grinning

it goes without saying but the art is absolutely gorgeous. Its nostalgic monochrome melancholy speaks to me on a deep spiritual level. Inject it directly into my bone marrow please. Shout-out also to the ost, it fucks and has tons of bangers. The Hrad track, the one that plays on Josef's castle... god... love at first listen, and have been listening nonstop for the last few days now while going on walks.

[isaackkkbunn]

Here finally is my OC submission for the @kirbyoctournament ‼️‼️‼️

Name :: Artemis The Blood Fiend

Reference images ::

Lore ::Created by 0²'s blood, Artemis the Half-blood prince is one of 0²'s strongest Dark Matter Swordsman, his "favorite".

Younger Brother of 0² and Zero, and "Twin" brother of Matty, even if Matty is a "low class" Dark Matter, Artemis apreciates and dearly loves his twin brother. Artemis at some point tries to escape but ends up really bad injured by someone that uses the rainbow trident, Meta Knight finds him and saves him, Artemis eventually starts to discover a new and better life out of the Dark Star.

Personality :: He has a strong character, he gets angry quickly if something bothers him, he is serious and calm (at times), Artemis is quite mature thanks to the time he has lived, although that does not prevent him from being impulsive at times. He is kinda hostile and proud by nature, But thanks to Meta Knight and DMS practically raising and caring for him, Artemis is not as arrogant as he seems. He is quite distrustful of strangers and has a hard time trusting others, He's a little grumpy and cold, although when he is around Meta Knight, his personality softens a lot. He is VERY afraid of being emotionally vulnerable, he desperately craves approval and apreciation from 02

Extra notes ::

— Meta Knight also has a lot of appreciation for Artemis and has created a very strong relationship with him over the years, considering him a son. They have a father/mentor relationship

— DMS has been the one who has taught Artemis how to handle a sword properly for many years.

— Meta Knight is kinda protective with Artemis, although he knows that Artemis can protect himself

— Artemis usually has trouble sleeping, most of the time he doesn't sleep because he doesn't really need to. But he can actually fall asleep if he is with someone he trust

— Artemis usually levitates, stupid egg

– He knows how to fight and has very good reflexes. He is not afraid of hurting his enemy, unless is someone he cares about, but usually a fight with him will end up in Artemis killing the one he is fighting

— He can cry and feel sadness, usually cries a lot of blood when this happens and he feels emotional pain

— Because they are connected, 0² and Artemis sometimes feel what the other feels, including their emotions and physical pain

[dartagnantt]

Otherworldly Patron: The Bound Demon | Let's be honest, 'the fiend' patron is just 'the devil'

PDFs of this and more can be found over on at my Patreon here!

Anyone else dislike how the patron in the core rule book is called "The Fiend" when its totally 100% a devil? I did, but since we're all about sealing things this week, let's be a bit anime about this and bind demons inside of children and grant them unfathomable power. This would be different from a part demon which is more of a sorcerer situation.

This was slightly tricky considering canonically, each demon is different (even though mechanically there's only like 5 of them) and that of the few demons there actually are, they share very few properties. Originally I was going to make this subclass customisable, but considering this is customisation: the class, I chose against that. But considering that the high level demons are: demon lords, which are way too specific, and the balor, goristro, and marilith which are melee beat sticks, I needed to go for a more generic form of the sort of 'power' a demonic entity would give.

Demonic Endurance

A little something from our friend, the draconic sorcerer. A consistent throughline of demons is their resilience, considering they need to survive the abyss, so hit points!

Unnatural Presence

This is fun, I like the idea that animals are more innately aware of demons. I extended this to humanoids because while we may not understand it, we generally can feel something is off. But for extra flavour, there is some demon (literally, not in a my great great great great grandpappy was a demon way) in you therefore you should ping as a demon.

Envenomed Blood

Not an ability demons really have, but I felt like I needed to give more than just poison resistance since immunity to poison is the demons' thing, and devils too for some reason, but I'm just going to ignore them, so make the poison resistance from the fact that the blood is literal poison :)

Magic Resistance

I hesitated in giving a form of magic resistance, because not even the devil patron gives it while definitely having it, and I avoided telepathy for the same reason (and because it's the GOO's thing) but here we are. That said, most enemies still like to beat you to a pulp rather than to use spells even at high levels, so it's not that powerful

Abyssal Transformation

And this is me giving in and giving your the big smash, but trying my best not to invalidate any path but bladelock. But all high level demons are big and smashy, so I give you the big hurt.

And now to plug my stuff. I release homebrews weekly over on my Patreon. Anyone who pledges $1 or more per post don't have to wait a month to see them, and also help fund my being alive habit.

At the moment, they have exclusive access to the following:

It's a Trap!

Judgement Domain

The Greatwyrm Patron

Breaking and Exiting

I also have three classes, and a splatbook over on DriveThrueRPG to check out:

The Rift Binder. A class specialising in summoning monsters and controlling the battlefield.

The Witch Knight. A class that combines swords and sorcery in the most literal way.

The Werebeast. A class that turns you into a half beast to destroy your foes.

d'Artagnan's Adventurer Almanac. A compendium of races, subclasses, feats, spells, monsters and more!

[anoandthemoondogs]

Sun Wukong's Baldness

There have been countless depictions of Monkey King throughout the years. My personal favourite ones include the Lego Monkie Kid, The Monkey King Conquers the Demon, and Journey To The West (1986).

While these depictions are AMAZING, when they show the Monkey King on his pilgrimage journey, they miss this one small detail; Sun Wukong’s baldness.

That last sentence mostly likely made you pause and go–”Hold on…since when was he bald?!”

Well, let’s dive into the source material ‘Journey To The West’.

Screen shot of Monkey King and Nezha fighting from Havoc in Heaven (1961)

There are many times that Sun Wukong’s baldness is mentioned in the novel. The first is in Volume 1, chapter 20 when Monkey has already joined the pilgrimage with Tripitaka and an old man asks;

"... and why did you shave your hair to become a monk?"

(Wu and Yu, 2012, Vol. 1, p. 395)

Seven chapters later, his bald head is mentioned once again:

"But ever since Nirvana delivered me from my sins, when with my hair shorn I took the vow of complete poverty and followed you as your disciple, I had this gold fillet clamped on my head."

(Wu and Yu, 2012, Vol. 2, p. 24)

And then twice more in chapters 34 and chapter 75

The fiend then gave the rope a tug and pulled Pilgrim down before he gave that bald head seven or eight blows with the sword. The skin on Pilgrim's head did not even redden at all. "This monkey;' said the demon, "has quite a hard head! I won't hack at you anymore. Let me take you back to the cave first before I hit you again. But you'd better return my other two treasures right now:'

(Wu and Yu, 2012, Vol. 2, p. 24)

"You come over here," said the old demon, "and act as my chopping block first. If your bald head can withstand three blows of my scimitar, I'll let you and your Tang Monk go past. But if you can't, you'd better tum him over quickly to me as a meal.... ...He lifted up his scimitar with both hands and brought it down hard on the head of the Great Sage. Our Great Sage, however, jerked his head upward to meet the blow. All they heard was a loud crack, but the skin on the head did not even redden. Greatly astonished, the old demon said, "What a hard head this monkey has!"

(Wu and Yu, 2012, Vol. 3, p. 373)

Monkey King from Journey to the West (1986)

But even with all these excerpts from the book, it's interesting to me how Wukong is never depicted with shaven or bald head in media. At least not to my knowledge.

Sun Wukong has been adapted over and over again. He's been everything from Peking Opera, to an anime, a video game, and then a literal Lego character!

Monkey King from Lego Monkie Kid (2020)

But not one shows him bald even though it is wide knowledge he became a disciple of a monk.

I just wanted to show this silly little thing I noticed. If anyone knows any kind of media that has him as a shaven or bald head, I would be very interested in seeing it!