#(SO FAR its goin well but I have Doubt)

[koushirouizumi]

{D I G I M O N} 02 - @.M.V x "Kocchi wo Muite" {"Look This Way"} M U S I C (C) C.L.A.M.P / K O D A N S H A (Originally from: C a r d c a p t o r S a k u r a) + DAIHIKA

Summary:

"Although you show C O U R A G E, YOU'VE{?} got it B A C K W A R D S A {m a i d e n}'s H E A R T is {f r a g i l e} and T R Y I N G..."

D i g i m o n 02 (C) T O E I @.M.V. by Me No $$$ is being made off this Fan-work

Notes: -This part took about 45 min already. - Aiming for an 08-02 finish, but let's see what happens...!! - This @.M.V. is overall a Stand-alone work. (It is not directly involved with my other work); However, it can be considered a work For the storyline that's a precursor to Repeat-verse, which came before that story was conceived!) Therefore, it can be watched as a Stand-alone! - I reused a part of an older edit for the Tri P.V.; (for timing placements) it had an old subtitle on, but I'll remove that for the finished version! However, the work is overall/near-wholly 02-focused (so far)!

{I have not yet re-written the DaiHika storyline involved with the past fic-verse of mine; So please take this work as a sort of preview to it!}

(Further lyric{s} under 'read more'!)

"Turn this way, don't look anywhere else, darling It'd be bad if you weren't completely by MY side... Although you show courage, you've got it backwards A maiden's heart is fragile and trying---"

If we get separated by any distance I'll come after you

(J.P.N): Kocchi wo muite yo So mi shinaide Daarin Chanto watashi no soba ni inakucha dame da yo Tsuyogari datte uragaeshi Otome-gokoro kyun to setsunai...

Donna ni tookute hanarete 'te mo  Oikakete 'ku wa---

NOTE: The speaker may be speaking as if theyre NOT BEING CONSISTENT with their {FEELINGs}.

(Please acknowledge Rules BEFORE INTERACTING) {Failure to regard Rules WILL RESULT IN A BLOCK}

[mjbarrosart]

My Dragon Prince Boards season 6, episode 602

Before we start, a little words...

Working in The Dragon Prince is for sure one of the biggest privileges of my career as a storyboard artist. I got into the show as a junior board artist during season 4 and was able to stay until the end of season 7.

The quality of the show, the characters the fans, are things that I truly enjoyed and keep close to my heart.

Have been years since my work in Drago Prince - we were boarding season 6 in the Summer of 2022- and to be honest feels like a lifetime ago, haha, my skills and art have change so much during the years, but every time a new season premieres, going back to my old boards and write this little commentary has become such a fun thing to do.

Season 6 is so far one of my favorites. This season was in such a sweet spot for us, with seasons 4 and 5 already done we were feeling really comfortable on the style of the show, and we were able to work without the huge pressure that later we had for season 7 (closing a huge story like this saga is a monumental challenge and that put a lot over our shoulders for sure!) So I have fond memories of my sequences on season 6, having a lot of fun while working on them.

During all my time in the show, I was part of the 2nd unit on boards. The show had 3 units, each unit was in charge of 3 episodes. If you check the credits its pretty easy to figure out which unit is which. I had the huge privilege to work with experienced artists like Jae Harm and Lori Allen, who also worked in seasons 1 to 3! My unit director for this season was Mike Jones, hands down one of the best storyboards artist I ever meet.

As the 2nd unit, we were in charge of episodes, 602, 605 and 608.

So lets start with Episode 2 of season 6!!

A little irony about this season is that while in season 5 I was working SO MUCH with Janai and Amaya, in this season we only had sunfire elf plot in this episode, so is my only time on the season working with my favorite ladies. Knowing that, I tried really hard to nail all my parts!

My first sequences is when Janai scolds the remaining sunfire generals. This episode deals with the consequences of the season 5 finale of the sunfire elf plot. Janai is sitting on her throne betrayed by one of her generals and her brother, feeling doubts about herself, but also about is she can trust others.

I think was pretty cool to being able to explore a more emotional side of Janai. I wanted to make this sequences to feel imbalanced and aggressive. Janai is dealing with a lot of emotions that are hard to process.

I read some complaints that Janai in this sequence is not being better than a Karim (yes I read your comments!) and I agree, but I think that that is a good thing. The idea of this sequence, was to show Janai taking things wrong, acting her feelings in a way they are hurting people around her. I don't think Janai is being a good queen here, and I thing that is good, because is good for characters to have flaws to overcome.

Sadly, part of this anger is not only directed to her subordinates, but also to Amaya, but she is a mature person, who doesn't take it personally and keep herself calms in order to be able to support her partner.

My next sequence is when Janai burns the sunseed tree.

This sequence continues working around the idea of Janai's rage and frustration. The sunseed is not there anymore, and she struggles to imagine a future, she is defeated, scared and angry.

The next shot is a fun one. On my first pitch of this sequence, I had her image reflecting in the crown turning into Karim, as a symbol of that both are the same, or that right now she is not being better than him, she is being haunted by him. But that idea was scrapped during revisions. I was happy when I saw the final episode this weekend and I notice that they put him on the crown. I think works really well as a symbol of her struggle and pain.

The Janai's fall keeps goin, the rage overcomes her and starts to burn the sunseed tree, the same place where last season she was talking about hope and future, now being destroyed in frustration, a rage that quickly turns into sadness and despair.

But Janai is a lucky one, she is not alone and has love ones who are there for her, to help her to navigate this hard times. Amaya and Green arrive just in time to stop her. I wanted to make the action of Amaya removing her from the fire messy, they lose balance and end sitting in the floor, it is a desperate move, but a necessary one. Amaya is there holding her, and that mark the beginning of Janai's change of mind.

Next sequence is this cute one when Amaya tells Janai the story about the "king with the thousand eyes". It is a simple one, but i like what Amaya is doing her. She is not telling Janai what to do or what to think, but given her context and tools to work her own thoughts. She needs space and Amaya is giving her something to think about.

As a funny detail, this sequence had a lot of Amaya talking, and that means tons of ASL, and, let me tell you, animating ASL is super hard, ergo expensive. The team had ASL interpreters acting the lines, and used that as a reference. What makes it hard is the fact that they need to be ultra precise with the hand movements, you don't what your ALS to be sloppy, and that takes time, so I got a note from the director to reduce the amount of ALS on screen, and we tried to be creative with the shots, haha.

Next sequence is when finally Janai is able to come to her senses and decides to do the right thing (be the right kind of leader to her people)

I really like this sequence, is soft and tender and emotional, and you can see the growth of Janai. I based a lot of their touches and love gestures on my own relationship with my wife, I always wanted to make this two feel real.

The last shot of this sequences is pretty deliberated. While is true, there is not sunseed anymore, they don't need that, because they are the new sunseed, they, their love, them as a symbol of the union between elves and humans, they are the future, there is hope.

My last sequence of the episode, is the short "let's get married" sequence by the end. A short sweet one, and I think the only time i boarded a kiss between them!!

In my original boards there was a close up to the kiss, but they removed it :( ... but I can show you anyway, haha

Well, that was my work on episode 2 of season 6.

Thanks for reading this long post, I'll write about my work on episode 5 soon!

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

I’m Hot, Sticky Sweet

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Commonwealth (after series end)

Warnings: Poorly written smut, food and sex, p in v, cunnilingus

Summary: You and Daryl haven’t been able to spend much time together. With only a certain amount of time available, you’re able to make the best of it by killing two birds with one stone.

A/N: I have no idea what I’m doing as a fanfic writer. Please forgive me for this insanity.

*gif is not mine

“What’s goin’ on here?” Daryl could smell the delicious scent of spices the moment he opened the door. He knew you could cook, but there really had never been enough resources or time for anything fancy. He was salivating by the time he reached the dining room, taking in the spread on the four person table. 

The archer was always up before the sun and home long after it had set, helping around the Commonwealth in any way he could. Some days, Mercer would have him beyond the walls, pushing back herds. Other days, he’d be part of the labor responsible for reinforcing those walls. He did what he could, rarely turning down a request for his assistance. Runs were still necessary in order to maintain the life to which you all had grown accustomed. Daryl would be gone for hours, sometimes even days. 

He was always so tired. He was sore. He missed his family. 

Once Pamela had been imprisoned and Ezekiel eventually took over the position as governor, Daryl was given a larger house. The two of you had turned it down, though. There was a quaint little home, still bigger than the apartment, away from the town center. It was your idea of perfect for your little family. Its four bedrooms were small but none of you had very many belongings anyway.

You settled in quickly. Daryl didn’t worry about Judith and RJ. They were safe in your capable hands. While you fit the role of the stay at home mom, you wouldn’t hesitate to pick up your knives and bring them down on anyone that threatened the safety of those kids. 

“Hey, you.” You were beaming at him, a bowl of steamed vegetables in your hand, when Daryl shook himself out of his thoughts. 

“S’all this? Where the kids?”

“Well,” you began, wiping your hands in the apron you had just removed. “We haven’t had a lot of time for ourselves lately. Carol took Jude, RJ, and Dog for the evening and I grabbed some extra venison from the market.” When he simply stared at you, doubt eased in slowly and then all at once. You knew you could afford the extra meat. Daryl was paid well for all the hours he put in for the community. The leftovers could be used for his lunch tomorrow and dinner for you and the kids. Still, you twisted your hands in the soft fabric of your sundress and avoided his eyes. “I’m sorry. I should have asked if—”

“Whoa, slow down. I ain’t upset or nothin’.” He had his hands up placatingly, a ghost of a smile adorning his lips. “Just didn’t know if I fucked up an’ forgot somethin’ impor’ant like our anniversary.”

Your self doubt ebbed away into amused adoration. “You remember our anniversary?” 

He was taking off his vest and gloves, glancing over at you with a sarcastic smirk. “Yep, s’that one day that looks just like ev’ry other day.” You laughed and gave his shoulder a playful shove. He didn’t let you push him too far and wound his arm around your side to pull you into him. “If we had a way to keep up with that shit, I’d mark that day up with a lil’ heart an’ blame Jude.” He nuzzled his nose against your jaw. 

“Daryl, that’s mean.” You chuckled, letting him press a quick kiss to your mouth. He hummed, continuing with his quick kisses while guiding you backward. 

“Pretty sure I told ya from the start that I’m a asshole.” He mumbled against your lips, pulling your bottom one in between his teeth. There was no stopping the small whimper that managed to escape your throat, earning a pleasant growl from deep in his chest. You let your arms wind around his neck and tugged at the wavy hair you found there. 

“Mmm, Daryl—food—table.” You managed between his increasing assault on your mouth. 

“Mhmm.”

He shifted in front of you but kept you close, the legs of one of the chairs scraping across the floor. Soon, the small of your back met the edge of the table but you were already too far gone to care. Your head was thrown back with his lips attached to the front of your neck when his large hands squeezed the backs of your thighs and hoisted you up. 

Your ass had barely met the cool surface when he was reaching underneath your dress and dragging your panties down your legs. You could hear the shifting of the dinnerware behind you but couldn’t entertain why that should be concerning. The damp heat between your legs was demanding your focus, and you let yourself be consumed. 

“Shirt.” You panted, crossing your ankles behind his back to pull his groin against yours while he removed the offensive garment, tossing it into the void of ‘I’ll find that later.�� Your mouths crashed together again, your hands working open his belt and fly while he shoved your dress up and out of the way. 

Tenderness was not on the table tonight, so to speak. Daryl grabbed your hips and pulled you down, wasting no time in entering you. Your mouths separated, your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip while his jaw went slack, satisfied breaths and quiet moans mingling somewhere in the air between you. 

“Fuck.” His fingers flexed against your hips, his hold damn near bruising your soft skin. You couldn’t suppress the drawn out moan you offered him as he pulled his hips back, dragging each and every inch of him against your fluttering walls until only the tip remained. He was just as slow pushing back in, swallowing your little sounds of pleasure. 

The next few thrusts were faster. The ones after that, faster still. Soon enough, his pelvis was slamming against you. Your small hands gripped his shoulders but couldn’t seem to remain there. You needed to feel more of his skin. Your hands slid down his back and grabbed the waistband of his pants, pushing them down past his hips. Daryl chuckled against your mouth when you grabbed handfuls of his ass and dug your nails in to leave crescent moons indented in the skin. 

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered, bowing your head to suck on the skin where you could feel his pulse hammering away. The archer rewarded you with a hard snap of his hips before reaching behind him to pull your hands away. He pressed you down against the table and quickly pulled out, leaving your cunt empty and clenching. “Daryl.” You whined, but before you could sit up, his face was buried between your thighs, tongue lapping and lavishing your clit until it was swollen and throbbing.

“Cum for me.” You heard him growl, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive nub while a finger prodded at your entrance. Daryl slid his middle finger past your opening and began pumping hard and fast, desperately seeking to pull your orgasm from you. He curled that finger slightly, finding that soft spot inside you that had you near screaming and grasping for anything that you could hold onto. Plates and silverware crashed to the floor. You thought one may have shattered. “Did ya not hear me, woman? I said cum.” 

Your chest heaved for the breath you couldn’t seem to catch, all cognitive function absent as the coil in your belly began to pull taunt. “Daryl—I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“Good girl. Give it to me.” He went back to flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. You were clenching around his finger in waves now. He knew you were seconds from climaxing. Wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves, he gently took it between his teeth and started to suck. 

“Fuck!” Your back arched off the table, your body vibrating through the throes of pleasure. It started in your stomach and spiderwebbed out through your limbs. Your hands found his hair and pulled, soliciting a deep grunt against your flesh. 

When you began to come down, your cunt was suddenly empty. But not for long. 

Daryl entered you again, roughly thrusting into your body at a punishing pace that shook the table beneath you. His right hand creeped around the back of your neck and pulled you up to capture your lips in a sloppy kiss that was all spit and tongues and teeth. 

He never slowed down, bringing your second orgasm on quickly while he slipped the spaghetti straps of your dress down your shoulders. You let his attentions fall to your neck while you pulled your arms from the straps and pushed both the dress and your bra down, giving the man access to your breasts. He wasted no time in placing his lips around a pert nipple. 

“Fuck, Daryl!” Your fingers found their way into his hair once again, urging him toward your mouth. He allowed himself to be led away from your breast but not without replacing his mouth with his hand. “Just—just like that. I’m so close!”

“Yeah,” he panted against your mouth, “me too.” 

Neither of you lasted long after, the room filled with your cries of his name and his drawn out moans. You fell back onto the table, still pulsing around him as he softened inside you. Daryl leaned forward to rest his forehead against your upper stomach while you ran your fingers through his sweat-damp hair. 

“That was incredible.” You breathed, staring up at the ceiling with a beaming smile. 

“Yeah. I missed ya, sunshine.” He said into the wadded up fabric of your dress. You hummed and gave his hair a gentle tug, encouraging him to look at you. When he did, you caught the gleam in his pretty blue eyes. 

“What?” You asked cautiously. 

“I ain’t nowhere near done with ya yet.” He went for your nipple but your hands quickly left his hair and caught each side of his face. 

“We need to eat before we spill something.” Somehow the food had indeed survived. 

“Can wait.” He muttered, shaking your hands off. When he tried a second time, you caught him again. This time he huffed in annoyance. 

“It’ll be cold. Well—colder.” You pouted. The archer watched you for a moment, ready to pull out and reset the table when he got the most brilliant idea. You saw the spark in his eyes and drew in your brows, feeling a little concerned. “I know that look. What scheme is rattling around in that head of yours, Daryl Dixon?”

With a Cheshire grin, he rose slightly and stretched an arm behind the top of your head, pulling back with a dollop of mashed potatoes on the tip of his finger. “We can both get what we want.” Without giving you time to consider his meaning, the bowman smeared the side dish across one of your nipples, dragging his tongue over it to clean up the mess. Your eyes sparkled. 

“You, sir, are a genius.”

More than an hour and a half later, half empty serving dishes still littered the table, but you and Daryl were on the floor, the area around you a complete disaster. Daryl sat next to you, propped up on the wall with his legs stretched out. His pants were up but not buttoned. The left side of his face was dripping brown gravy, a portion of his hair wet with it. Remnants of mashed potatoes and macaroni and cheese were smeared from his neck all the down to disappear past his waistband. 

You looked no better. Shavings and juices of venison were stuck to the swell of your breasts and side of your neck, anything between that and the lower part of your dress— pulled up to cover you by now— was hidden by the fabric itself. Your hair was a mess, with a half of a baby carrot dangling from a thin strand. What could be seen of your inner thighs was sticky with apple pie filling. 

You were both panting and even Daryl mirrored your small smile and chuckled when you looked at one another. He had been absolutely right. You were sated and full. 

But you probably wouldn’t serve the leftovers to the kids after all, though you were almost certain Daryl wouldn’t mind taking some for lunch. 

You were just about to suggest getting cleaned up when you heard a key enter and then turn in the front door lock. When you heard Carol call “hello,” you snapped your attention back to Daryl. 

“You gave her a key?!” You whisper-yelled. 

“Why wouldn’t I!?” He returned at the same volume. You gestured broadly at the two of you, and Daryl relented with a nod. “I see your point.”

“What happened?!” 

You both turned to the doorway, finding RJ and Judith staring at you with wide eyes. 

“What do you mean what— oh.” Carol hurried into the room and her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. Dog bounded around her leg and immediately began to sniff the floor, licking up any scraps he found dropped or smeared there. Daryl couldn’t even bring himself to correct the canine. “So,” Carol began, crossing her arms, “what did happen, you two?” From the knowing smile plastered on the woman’s face, you knew you needn’t explain to her. 

But shit, the kids. 

“There, uh—there was a, um, a spider!” You shrugged a shoulder when Daryl gave you a look that blatantly said ‘really, Y/N?’ 

“A spider.” Carol repeated, licking her lips to wipe away the grin. 

“Was huge.” Daryl nodded, carefully avoiding any of the eyes that were on him. “An’ mean.”

“Ew. Did you kill it?” RJ asked with a small cringe. 

“Sure did.” The archer lied. 

“How big?” Judith queried, crossing her arms like Carol. 

“Like—real big.” You supplied, covering your thighs a little more with your dress when you caught Carol looking at the mess there.

“Cool! Can we see?” RJ, who had seemed afraid just moments before was now very interested in this make believe monster arachnid that had slathered both you and Daryl as well as half the dining room in tonight’s dinner before meeting its untimely demise at the bowman’s hand. 

“No!” Daryl barked. RJ froze midstep. “S’ uh—s’in the gravy.”

“Gross. I’m not eating that, aunt Y/N.” The young boy curled his lip. 

“Of course not, baby.” You soothed, relieved that you two had seemingly gotten away with this. 

“Not to mention your bra.” Judith smirked. Your eyes widened. “Your bra is in the gravy too, aunt Y/N.”

Your eyes slid slowly toward where the gravy boat sat, a few feet from Daryl’s leg. The man was already hooking a finger under a strap and lifting the article, staring almost blankly ahead as he passed the dripping thing across his lap and let it dangle for you to grab it. 

“Damn huge spider.”

“Bra removing spiders in gravy boats.” Carol nodded, chuckling when Daryl put his red face in his hands and you rubbed the back of your neck. “Right. Well, don’t worry. These guys and that guy,” she pointed to Dog, who was gnawing on a piece of broccoli, “have already eaten. I’ll just go get them settled.” 

“Thanks.” You mumbled, looking defeated. Footsteps disappeared up the stairs before you and Daryl looked at one another. 

“She ain’t never gonna let this go.” He commented sourly. “Just feed me ta the walkers, sunshine. M’beggin’ ya.”

“If I have to hear it, then you do too.” You chuckled, leaning over against him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. 

“She won’t pick on ya too bad.”

“She saves it all for you cause I’ll cry.”

“Guess I need to start cryin’ then.” You giggled and tilted your head back just in time for him to press a kiss between your eyes. “Was fun, huh?”

“Yeah, you make a nice buffet, Dixon.”

He hummed, drumming his fingers against your upper arm. “I wouldn’t mind s’more pie.” 

“How about a plate this time?”

[curvykittyyssmutfics]

Direct Instruction

"Slow down, Denji. You're gonna overstimulate her too quick. Slow licks. Yeah.. Just like that. Take your time, she ain't goin nowhere."

Aki speaks from across the room, patiently observing Denji struggle not to devour you. He slips his t-shirt off but leaves his sweats on. Head tilted, one hand resting on his raging dick as he leans back further into his chair. You don't know why he's still clothed; made you and Denji get undressed soon as this started.

"I don't want tooo. She tastes so fuckin sweet. Its like candy, Aki."

Denji's a fuckin brat but slows down anyway, giving you a chance to catch your breath. Even with him replacing his savage ass sucking with fast little kitten licks, you can't dig your toes out the mattress at the feeling.

"Yeah, I know she does. Don't mean you can do whatever you want." Aki tells him, squeezin his dick to the sight of you.

"Not the fuckin boss of me.." Denji mumbles into your pussy, making Aki's brow raise.

"That right? Want me to shut this shit down? Fuck y/n till she can't see straight while we leave you to play by yourself?"

That gets Denji back on track. Doesn't dare talk back. Only whines into your sensitive lil pus before getting back to his task.

"Thought so. Fuckin brat. Did you not promise me to work on followin directions? Gonna have to handle your bad ass later.. And you better make her cum real good too."

Theres no doubt about that. Tip of his tongue is dead on, swiping that spot on your slippery nub with an accuracy you wouldn't have thought a virgin could possess. He's only been between your legs for a couple minutes but apparently a few tips from Aki and suddenly he's a pro.

"Ahh, ahhh- Denji! Can't believe- didn't think- ohmygod!"

Aki chuckles as Denji moans around your clit, gripping around your thighs tight. The vibrations put an arch in your back that make Aki finally pull himself out to stroke; he's way too fuckin hard watchin you so drunk on pleasure.

"See what you're doin to her? She can barely take it. Use your fingers.. Yeah, like that. Bet shes squeezin round you.. Always bear hugs the fuck outta my dick when I first slide in."

"Mmmhmmm.."

A finger swipes at your opening, experimenting with the slip and slide of you. Denjis curious. Slowly lets his digit creep inside, suckin at you a little quicker. He's stares at your glistening lil puss, mesmerized by how you engulf him like his lips do to your clit.

"Good boy, Denji. Thats it.. Isn't he doin so well, sweet heart? Makin your lil puss flutter nice and tight, huh? Well, tell him then. Dont be rude.."

"Yeeees, Aki! Makin me feel so- ah, ah, ah!"

Denji can't take it anymore. Wants you to be a good boy, and to be the one that makes you cum but he so fuckin selfish. Needs something from you first: wants a real taste of your pretty lil chocolate pussy. So he abandons your clit, pulling you even tighter against his mouth so he can dig his tongue inside of you as far as it can go.

"Ohhhhmyyy- uh, uh, uh!"

It's too intense too fuckin quick. Your yank at his hair to pull him back but he doesn't budge, leaning into you body to trap you against the bed. He wiggles it inside of you erratically, no rythym at all. Just trying his damnest to reach your depths.

"Geez, Denji.. Should've known; you never fuckin listen."

But Aki doesn't stop him, quickening his strokes as he gets up to stand closer for a better view. He swipes at the precum streaming from his flushed tip. Reaching down with the same hand to pluck at your stiff nipples, smearing them sticky before rubbin slow teasing circles around your clit.

"Listen to that.. Hear that cute lil pussy singin for us? She's loud.. Even louder than your mouth. You so nasty, baby."

"Mmm mmm mmm."

Denji doesnt even hear Aki anymore, groaning in between your thighs like you just offered him a feast. Which is hella funny cause that's how he eats you. It's so damn sloppy, too messy. Your juices and his spit mixing to slide down your ass to the bed.

"Gonna cum Denji! Dont stop, please. Fuh-uuck.. More, Akiiii!"

Your pleas the prettiest symphony either of em has ever heard.

"Okay, y/n, okay. Let it out- ahhh.. Need to see you wet up his mouth, princess.Ohhh, gonna buss- don't stop Denji. Our girls gonna cum. Huh, y/n? Fuuuuck, you're so damn. beautiful."

He gives your twitchy lil button the attention you need, just not in the way expect. Stops rubbing to land 3 swift smacks against your clit. But your gone by the first, mindlessly squealing and cumming on Denji's mouth. Hips twisting uncontrollably but his hold on your thick thighs keeps you in place by. All the while, the fuckin brat makes multiple attempts to reach that special spot inside you with his devilish tongue.

"Mmmmfankoooohmmmm!"

Denji groans his appreciation when you shower his swollen mouth with your love. His tongue batters your walls, forcing moan after moan from your throat till your voice cracks.

What neither of you expect is for the scene to become to much for Aki. He pushes Denji to the side and bullies his cock between your spasming walls. He relishes how the end of your orgasm pushes him into his own.

"No fair, Aki! Wasn't done yet. Not your turn!" Denji's whining, swiftly standing to take Aki's place.

"Shut it."

He strokes his dick slowly, whimpering when he notices how Aki fucks you so good that when your lips part to cry nothin comes out. No breath in your lungs, mouth open wide in a silent scream as Aki leans over you and humps you quick and hard. You're left to grip at your covers, shapely brown legs wrapping around his waist; having no choice but to take what he gives you.

"Yeeees y/n! Bout to fill up my pussy, baby. You ready? Gonna take it all? Got so much cum for you, princess!"

You shake your head, hoping he takes some pity and pulls out.

"Nooo, Aki. Take it out. Don't want you too."

Your mumbled denial definitely lacks conviction.

"Too fuckin bad, baby- ohhhhshit! Can't stop now. Mmmm.. 'S too amazin y/n. Ahhh.."

Aki fills you and then some, thick streams pushing out everytime he fucks back into you. You're thankful his strokes turn shallow at the end of his nut, energy draining from his limbs as he lays over you heavily.

Denji watches as he jerks, envious of the intimacy between you two as Aki pecks kisses all over your face.

"A-aki, 'm close, so fuckin close.. Can I cum? Please, Aki, please?"

"No. Hands off." Voice commanding, he's back to his stoic demeanor; even though his hips still stutter slowly into yours.

Denji groans in disbelief, droppin his hand reluctantly. He can't believe Aki's bein this way. You came and he clearly just satisfied himself, shivers still running through him as he pulls his dick out of you. So then why can't Denji find some fuckin relief too?

But then Denji's pleasantly surprised when Aki spreads you wide, both watching as his nut pools too your entrance. You cover your eyes with your arm, embarrassed how they stare at his cum slowly oozing out and into the big puddle beneath you.

Aki looks at Denji, smiling brightly; cock still stiff as fuck.

"Kay, Denji. Put it in, your turn.."

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Destinytober24: Day 11 - Frog

Eris knows what he's thinking and so do you.

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

After the first ten minutes of silence in the H.E.L.M. with nothing but the Drifter's coin tumbling across his knuckles to fixate upon, Eris sighed deeply.

"Bein' on time never was a Hunter speciality," Drifter said, dryly.

At least he was tumbling the coin quietly. For her benefit, no doubt. The Drifter loathed silence and always sought to fill it with his fidgeting.

"That is... accurate," Eris said, turning away from him to approach one of the alcoves in the walls.

"So it's not surprising he's still not here."

"No it is not and... he is new to being Vanguard. It is not unexpected he might become... detained." Eris approached a large glass container vaguely reminiscent of an engram with several segments in front removed. It contained rocks, several plants, and a small creature.

"Well if he makes us wait past dinner he'd better be buyin' us food."

"Hmmm..." Eris peered inside at the container's green and black splotched resident.

"His name is Captain Jacobson and he is a frog!" Failsafe said brightly, startling both Eris and the Drifter, despite both of them having known she was there. She had been so quiet after initially greeting them that her voice now seemed loud.

The three-eyed witch and the rogue Lightbearer made brief eye contact in acknowledgement of their shared nervous response. The Drifter grinned. Eris' lip quirked slightly and she turned back to the enclosure, tilting her head.

"The frog is... a captain?"

"That is his name! However, the frog has no real authority."

Failsafe's voice changed as her politeness filter switched off. "Not that it wouldn't improve things around here if he did."

"Ha!" the Drifter laughed. "Failsafe, I like your style."

"Thank you!" Failsafe's politeness filter once more engaged. "And I like your...your... your ability to give compliments!"

"It has more than the expected number of eyes for a frog," Eris said quietly as she continued her examination of Captain Jacobson.

"Yeah, well, you have more than the expected number of eyes for a human," the Drifter said as he moved closer to her. "Doesn't make you any less cute."

Eris sighed again. "There are many who would disagree with your opinion."

"They'd be wrong."

Eris continued her inspection of the enclosure and its resident. "One of my visitors on the Moon recently informed me that... when asked what the scariest thing they'd ever encountered while on adventures was... they said me."

"Just because someone is terrifying does not mean they're not hot, Moondust. In fact, the argument could be made that bein' scary makes someone even hotter."

"Hmmm..."

"Would you like to pet him?" Failsafe asked brightly, attempting to change the topic of conversation.

"His skin looks... toxic." Eris said.

"It is!" Failsafe said with excessive cheer. "Wearing gloves is highly recommended."

"I'll pet him," the Drifter said, reaching out a gloved hand. Captain Jacobson made a soft, happy sound. "Aww... Isn't that cute. He likes it. Reminds me of Udon."

"He is considerably smaller with far fewer legs," Eris spoke quietly as she observed the interaction closely.

"Most things have fewer legs than Udon," the Drifter said, chuckling.

Eris' lip quirked again. "Indeed."

The Drifter continued petting the frog. It climbed onto his hand.

"Do you have a pet as well?" Failsafe asked. "The Saint-unit has come to visit with pigeons so that our pets can play together. Would you like to bring your pet here?"

"Uhhh..." the Drifter paused, the frog on his hand, a look of concern on his face.

"That would be... ill advised," Eris answered.

"Udon's a... ambush predator from Savathun's Throne World, Failsafe," the Drifter explained, carefully rotating the frog as he determined how it preferred to be touched. "He can snatch a Ghost goin' at top speed outta the air, and he has a pretty nasty bite. It's strong enough to pierce Hive chitin. He probably shouldn't' be around anything small, cute, and delicious. Like you, Captain frog. I could just eat you up." He licked his lips as he brought the frog closer to his face and grinned.

"Oh! Please do keep him well away from here!" Failsafe's voice sounded excessively cheery.

The Drifter coaxed the frog onto its back and began gently stretching out its legs, running his fingertips along its sides. Eris frowned. He was drawing invisible lines on the frog, sectioning it in similar ways to how he had deboned chickens in front of her before, mentally chopping it up. Eris turned and looked sharply at the Drifter.

"What?" He asked her, feigning innocence badly.

"We shall not endanger the life of your pet, Failsafe." Eris fixed the Drifter with a withering glare.

He stuck his tongue out at her and gently put the frog down.

"Did you want to feed the batadactyls?" Failsafe asked. "Their names are Petris and Babata!"

Eris walked around a partition to where the flying animals were perched. A small bowl of food was nearby. Slowly, so as not to startle them, Eris picked up a piece of unidentified meat and held it out to one of them. It gobbled the food greedily. She repeated the action with the second one.

Both batadactyl's screeched. Eris looked about in alarm.

"They make those noises when they are happy. I find their screeching very soothing!" Failsafe said, her voice almost gleeful.

"Petris." Eris repeated the name. "An interesting choice of name. Have you met the queen's Wrath?"

"Hunter Vanguard Crow introduced us! Petra Venj has met Petris the batadactyl and they got along very well!"

Eris nodded and then turned to look in the large glass box beside her. "Is that... a tiny... tree?" she asked.

"Yes!" Failsafe responded.

"Bonsai, right?" the Drifter asked.

"Yes, it is!" Failsafe's digital presence spun its outer ring.

Eris looked across at the Drifter through the glass, confused.

His grin widened and his eyes sparkled as he realised he knew a word she did not know. He winked at her. She frowned back.

"It's a way of makin' trees tiny," he explained. "You train it real slow to grow like that. Some people do it for years and years. It's a patience and meditation thing."

"It seems like it would be torturous to the plant," Eris said dryly.

"Eh... the line between art and torture gets pretty blurry sometimes."

"I assure you. I am not torturing my tree." Failsafe chimed in brightly before switching off her politeness filter.

"At least I don't think I am. Do you think it feels pain?" Her voice was lower without the filter, and sounded concerned.

"Nah, it's fine," the Drifter reassured her. "Unless you start hearing it screaming," he added. "Then you should probably stop. At least... if you don't like screaming."

"Tsch," Eris shook her head dismissively.

"I'm surprised you managed to crash land the H.E.L.M. with all the pets making it out ok, Failsafe." the Drifter said as he turned toward the AI projection while nodding in appreciation. "That took some skill."

Failsafe's digital projection shifted colour to her politeness filter, her voice changing again. "Outside of the Eliksni who turned into Scorn, all biological crew members survived. It is something I am very proud of. I have become very competent at crash landings!"

"Ha!" the Drifter smiled a toothy grin. "Me too."

"We have this experience in common!" Failsafe's projection changed colour. "I'm sorry," she added in a more sombre tone.

"Yeah," the Drifter said wistfully and more gently. "Me too."

"Eris! Drifter!" Crow stepped through a nearby doorway. "Sorry to keep you waiting."

"It's all right We were just lookin' at Failsafe's frog. Did you know its skin is poisonous? I pet it!" The Drifter reached out to shake Crow's hand with a mischevious look in his eyes.

Crow reached automatically to shake his hand and then stopped. Looking at the Drifter's hands, concerned. The Drifter laughed and pulled back his hand.

"Be sure to avoid licking your gloves." Eris said to the Drifter as she stepped between him and Crow.

Crow motioned to the door he'd just come through and began to walk in that direction. Eris followed.

"Don't say it that way, Moondust." The Drifter said as he followed Eris out of the room. "That just sounds like a challenge."

"Ugh."

Once they had left, Failsafe began searching through Vannet records looking for any evidence of bonsai trees screaming or feeling pain.

Link to the entire month's worth of prompts on Ao3, posted daily.

[themidnightleo]

Lurking Within

Leo sat on the chaise in the living area, his gaze lost in the flickering fire, with only his fox, Vega, for company. The distant sounds of children’s laughter and playful screams drifted through the air, a reminder of the life outside. Meanwhile, Trist and their newborn slept peacefully in another room.

What would have once been a dangerous moment of solitude, a time when his thoughts could turn dark and consuming, had become instead a rare moment of stillness. For the first time in what felt like forever, his mind felt empty—quiet. The usual din of voices, the constant clamor of thoughts that had become as familiar to him as his own heartbeat, faded into the background. They were still there, no doubt, but so much a part of him now that he barely noticed them.

From the far corner of the room, a voice broke the silence, cutting through the trance Leo had slipped into. "Yeh be doin' dat more and more of'en."

Leo blinked a few times, as if clearing away the cloudiness from his thoughts. "What are you on about now?" he asked, his voice low, not even bothering to turn and search for the source. He knew that voice all too well.

"Da way yeh look out inta nottin' for so long," the voice continued, its tone thick with an ancient accent. The footsteps came closer, soft and measured, despite the immense size of the Zandalari who owned them. "There be nottin' in yuh eyes when it happens. Like yeh be lost, like yeh be gone somewhere. Where do yeh be goin', Voidsinga?"

Leo sucked at his teeth, a faint twinge of irritation flickering in his eyes. "So I need a reason to enjoy silence now? You used to be so happy to see me find peace in these moments, and—"

"Dat was before them moments became sometin' else. I feel da air aroun' yeh. It gets tick and troublesome."

"Thick and troublesome? Please... you are reading far too into it."

"Okay... so where yeh go den? What was it yeh were tinkin' about just now? No lyin'."

From the moment they met, Zy'chaal had sworn to be honest with him, and Leo had vowed the same in return—no lies between them. "I…" Leo began, his voice faltering, the silence that followed heavy with unspoken tension. Finally, he admitted, "…I don't remember."

Zy'chaal pointed at him, approaching with more assertiveness. "See? Dat not be right. Dere is sometin'. Sometin' happenin' to yeh."

With a long sigh Leo leaned further back into the chaise, "I am just tired- exhausted even. A new baby is rough. I know Trist is doing most of the work but it is still taking a toll on me as well. It'll be over soon in a few months."

"And den it'll be too late."

Suddenly, Leo shot upright in his seat, the abrupt movement sending Vega skittering out of the room. "Stop talking like that! There is. Nothing. Wrong!" Each word dropped like a thunderclap, the final one laced with a growl that rumbled deep in his chest—a warning, primal and raw. His voice, now carrying the edge of his Star-Eater form, sent a shiver through the room. His eyes burned with unbridled fury, and, as the troll had warned earlier, the air around him grew dense, heavy with power.

"Dere it be..." Zy'chaal approached showing little to no fear. He kneeled before Leo and looked at him with worry and sorrow- an expression he's never showed before. "Da raven fear for yeh too."

Leo's nostrils flared, his irritation palpable, but at the mention of the raven, Saiya, his expression softened—if only slightly. His features returned to their usual calm, though the annoyance lingered in his gaze. "If she’s so concerned," he said sharply, "why hasn’t she come to me about this herself?"

"She fears yeh, Voidsinga. She know what yeh are capable of doin' to her if yeh let that power overtake yeh. Best to not be in yeh way when it happens."

A look of guilt crossed Leo's face at the confession, "She really thinks I will succumb to something that much?"

"We both do."

A look of surprise now, "I am fine. I feel great, honestly."

"I taut yeh were tired?" Zy'chaal tilted his head, calling Leo's bluff. "Yeh lied."

Leo stared down at his hands, turning them over as if expecting to see the transformation his companions claimed to witness—but there was nothing. No sign of the monster they feared. His voice wavered as he finally admitted, "I did lie. And I’m… so sorry for that."

Pressing his palms against his face, he let out a heavy sigh, the weight of his guilt pressing down on him. After a moment, he rubbed his face and lowered his hands again, his expression weary.

"It isn't like yeh, Voidsinga. Sometin' is happenin' to yeh. But I will remain 'ere and watch yeh. Just like I promised. I hear dem whispers too. And they be sayin' a lot about yeh. Yeh be important to them and everyone 'ere. Dun let dem take yeh." Zy'chaal placed his large hand at Leo's cheek. "Stay wit us."

Leo raised his hand, letting it rest gently atop the one at his cheek. His gaze locked onto Zy'chaal’s, searching those eyes for the comfort he desperately wanted to find. Every fiber of his being longed to make that promise, to give the reassurance Zy'chaal sought—but something deep within him resisted, a quiet, stubborn force that refused to yield.

No lying.

[whump-cravings]

Runaway Gunslinger - Safe

Masterlist

~2100 words | D&D - Fizlei Delrem, gunslinger Content: referenced parental abuse and manipulation, positivity whump?? caretaker promising safety

Varo came out from around the desk. Now in a more relaxed setting, the elf had shed his outerwear, leaving him in a cute little top that let his belly show, detached sleeves, and some loose trousers. 

"We have shown you much trust," he said, leaning back against his desk as he considered Fiz. "Much vulnerability."

Fiz had expected to have to explain his evident change of loyalties, but not all this. Despite having all the walk back from Oya's lab to here to think about what was apparently happening, it still weren't making no sense. Between this place being nigh inescapable and the idea of being some high-up advisor, his palms were sweating and his smile was strained. He had half a mind that this was some kinda trap, but even that didn't make no sense, because he was a Dhorosian human nobody, and these folks could kill him quicker than he could wrangle a calf.

"Yeah," he said, looking away from Varo's piercing gaze, rubbing the back of his neck. For some reason. "And uh, from the sounds of it, you're hopin' to keep me 'round for a while."

Varo inclined his head slightly. "If I can," he answered pleasantly enough.

You can't. Nobody can. Fiz didn't say them things out loud, because that made folks ask questions he weren't allowed to answer.

"I'm sure you don't invite just any gal that turns heel on his last group into your inner circle," he said instead, tryin' to turn the conversation around a bit and uncover what the feller was playing at.

Varo's smile was coy, and he pushed off his desk to walk in a slow circle around Fiz. Fiz watched him out of the corner of her eye without twisting around. Being evaluated like this weren't too unfamiliar to him.

"Perhaps I was impressed by your talents… perhaps I am after your unique perspective," the elf said, and Fiz could find no reason in his voice or body language to doubt either statement. "But tell me," he stopped in front of Fiz, barely a handspan away. "What kind of person burns bridges so easily, to throw everything away for a cause they had only just learned of?"

It weren't everythin'. Fiz didn't have an 'everything' no more. 'Tilda and the kids, Kyoko, Davbar, Nickel, Quarter… they were just more folks Fiz was bound to leave. Heck, it weren't even a group he'd joined, just one fate had lumped together in a train car. They'd made for good company, that was all.

Varo kept on looking up at him with them big ol' brown eyes, patient as could be. Fiz's smile weakened further under the close inspection. He'd been planning on saying something about "switchin' to the winnin' side," thinking that Varo wouldn't trust a turncoat—and if he didn't trust her, then he wouldn't show her nothing important, and nobody would mind her disappearing when time came due.

Yet here Fiz was, having seen the other side of this 'mercenary crew.' He'd touched the walls they'd painted their dreams and history on. He'd seen the kids playing.

An organization like this couldn't survive long if its leader made undercooked choices like putting full trust in a drifter he picked up practically off the side of the road. So Fiz had to think that he didn't truly have Varo's confidence, but he knew well enough that he'd learned and seen a little too much to walk outta here easily. Being kept captive wouldn't usually concern him much, but this was different.

There was something special here, and Fiz couldn't be the one that ruined it. He had to put a stop to this before it went too far.

"Look, I can't…" A sigh escaped Fiz as he looked down, running a hand down his mouth and chin, the other on his hip. He gestured at Varo. "You seem plenty strong enough, but… what I got goin' on would put those under your care at risk." Fiz could imagine Pa tearing through them happy little families all too well.

Varo tilted his head, gaze narrowing thoughtfully. "Hmm. Let me show you something." He offered his hand again.

Maybe Fiz took it outta curiosity—that certainly hadn't been the expected response—maybe cuz he knew nothing could change, maybe cuz he hoped something could—but like a fool, Fiz took it.

Wordlessly, Varo took Fiz over to a flight of stairs. Light poured from the landing up above and grew brighter as the two of them climbed. They came to a small room, empty of anything save for a window overlooking land far below and the Planemeld, bright as the sun.

With a gesture at the Planemeld, Varo said, "This is the most dangerous place in all of Ban Gualenco, and I have chosen to keep my people here." He looked Fiz in the eye. "If I did not believe they could handle it, I would have abandoned it long ago. But we are a strong people.

"Every day, I contend with forces that would seek to end our lives and very culture," he continued. "Governments, celestials, devils, fae, horrors beyond your comprehension, and more. And I have survived for centuries despite it all. We have survived."

What would it be like to have that kind of community? That family? Fiz could scarcely imagine. But that sort of thing weren't for him, of course. He couldn't be drawn in by Varo's sweet-talking.

"I trust in my people, and I trust in my own strength." Varo squeezed Fiz's hand, meeting gazes again. Without the faintest trace of deception, he declared, "If you will it, I would be honored for you to put your trust in us as well."

Oh no. Fiz could feel his walls crumblin'. Don't look at me like that. His gaze wavered, heart speeding up and fingers itching to grab his guns like he was in a fight. I can't take it. Everything in him was telling him he had to get out of here now.

There was just one problem: He wanted to put his trust in somebody, for once—wanted to be trusted. It was the height of selfishness, plain and simple, to put people's lives at risk just because he didn't wanna follow the Rules. Because he couldn't be happy with what he got. So he couldn't. He shouldn't.

And yet.

Swallowing, Fiz turned his head away. "I… don't know how strong It is. Ain't never seen It fight somebody like yourself." Somebody who could down two skilled companions and fend off a deadly warrior like Kyoko, who was already a fair bit stronger than Fiz. Somebody who could get stabbed straight through and come out the other side just fine. If Varo couldn't beat It, who could?

Fiz pushed the thought away. "Can't—I can't say no more if you're gonna let me walk away."

Just mentioning It was almost enough to put them at the point of no return. But maybe Varo would let him off with just that, and he could leave with no harm done. It wouldn't wanna mess with such a big group if It didn't have to.

A hand cupped Fiz's cheek, calloused but soft. Varo turned her face back, gaze confident. "You are safe here."

Safe.

Something like pain shot through Fiz, and he was leaning into the touch before he could stop himself, quaking. How long had he waited to hear that? It couldn't be true, but that didn't seem to matter to his heart, fool that it was.

"I…" His lip trembled.

What am I doin'? He squeezed his eyes shut, head bowing and face twisting. I can't. It'll just end like last time. He remembered the chains and long winters well enough. I can't go through that again.

What if this was the last time It would allow Fiz to misbehave, even if seven years had passed in between missteps? Was he really gonna toss what little he had for a pretty face and prettier words?

"I'd thought you'd grown out of this, Fizlei," he could hear Pa sighing. His lungs lost a bit of air at the thought.

But despite that, his mouth kept moving. "It…"

Oh. He couldn't stop himself.

"Ah…" Varo closed his other hand over Fiz's now-crushing grip. "Let us go to my chambers." 

Fiz's nerves were firing off too strong to question that. In a daze, he barely managed to keep his footing as he trailed behind the elf. They traveled down a couple flights of stairs, and into another room. This one was cozy, full of comfy furniture, throw pillows, knick-knacks, and a big round bed at the far end.

Varo sat on a plush sofa and pulled Fiz down next to him. The human sank into the cushions heavily.

Fiz tried to speak, but his stomach and tongue knotted up something fierce. He folded over his knees, just short of gasping for breath.

"Take as long as you need," Varo murmured. Still holding Fiz's hand, he now gave it another squeeze. "You are safe here."

The words were still like a bullet straight through his heart. Varo didn't know what he was promising, not really, but Fiz couldn't keep from clinging to the notion. He swallowed several more times, finding his voice.

"I ain't… allowed to have friends," he finally forced out, each word like pulling nails. "It don't like anybody… payin' us too much mind."

"It likes to wear my ma and pa," Fiz went on. "Calls me Its daughter."

"'Wear'?" Varo asked.

"Their faces, bodies. Memories. Not like a changeling—can only do that with anybody It's eaten."

Varo took a measured breath in. 

Fiz closed his eyes. "Used to keep the whole family out, but not since I grew older than any of my siblings ever were."

Varo squeezed Fiz's hand tight. "Oh, pequeña ave."

The pity stung as much as it soothed, like water on a wound. It reminded Fiz of his grief—grief he had locked away and buried six feet deep. Doing so had been the only way to go on, and he feared to dig it all back up. 

Varo didn't let the lapse go for too long, gently prompting, "What manner of creature is it?"

"Some kinda ooze, near as I can tell," Fiz answered, grateful to focus on something less painful. "Able to eat anything livin' and some things that ain't. It can have multiple forms out—be multiple folks at once, but all connected by a red line, and it can't stretch much more than a couple seconds' walkin' distance.

"Able to do faces from memories, too," Fiz murmured, swallowing as he remembered a handful of dark mornings. "But those … ain't as convincin'."

"It reads minds?"

"Blood," Fiz said. "Don't know how much It gets, but I ain't never been able to hide nothin' from It." His voice quieted. "It's always enough to figure if anybody's gonna be a… problem." 

Faces flashed through his mind then—those who'd died for his carelessness, before he'd understood  the Rules. He put a hand to his face, voice breaking a little as he went on, "Never mattered how—how careful I got 'bout goin' unnoticed, never mattered where I get off to or how far. 'S only ever a matter of how long I got."

His voice quieted to a whisper again, soul feeling the weight of the horror of being relentlessly hunted. "It always catches up. Then we go back home."

Fiz didn't even try making it hard to follow after him no more. Sure, he still skipped towns to throw it off a bit, but used to be that he didn't tell people to expect his pa to come lookin', and even tried paying folks to keep quiet about him. But anybody acting particularly suspicious towards Pa gave It reason to think Fiz had broken the Rules. So now he made sure folks would point Pa in the right direction.

Varo pressed his leg up against Fiz's, hand holding tight. "The world I am creating has no place for such monsters." He gently took Fiz's hand from her face, his gaze steely with determination and promise. "So long as I breathe, It will not have you again."

Looking into Varo's eyes, Fiz could believe him. A feeling of security, warm and bright and almost unrecognizable, bloomed in him. Maybe it was possible. At least, while his hand was in Varo's, he was safe. 

"I'll hold you to it," Fiz whispered, a dangerous seed of hope in his heart. Maybe for just a little while, he could pretend everything would turn out better this time.

[peachpopfizz]

yk the first couple of episode drops were a bit ehh to me but like.. these two just hit Right. maybe bc i knew what to expect pacing/story wise now? either way, they're def my faves so far, especially ep 5. that's my Favorite favorite :]

spoilers for both eps under the cut, mostly just me blabberin abt what i liked (warning: its alotta alastor)

for ep 5, at first i thought charlastors/radiobelles were winning (and while i don't ship it myself, i was happy for em) but then the realization of 'wait wait wait this isn't romo at all, alastors tryna be a FATHER FIGURE?!' hit instead and i went WILD bc thats 1000% my preferred dynamic for charlie and al. so uh.. yippee dadlastors, sorry charlastors..? gsjahafdaj

also the "Ha! Fuck you." im normal im normal im NORMAL im SOOOO FUCKIN NORMAL (IM CRAZY IM VRAZY I CRAZY IM CRASTY IM FUCKI)

mimzy!! (mimzie??) her intro was abrupt, but she seems like a doll, and her hug with al was real cute. tho i do think she needed that metaphorical kick in the ass abt al's thoughts when it comes to her leeching off his strength for protection. about that..

ALASTOR ACTUALLY CARES. HE CARES. (seemingly, at least). LIKE, HE ACTUALLY LEGITIMATELY, NON-FANONILY, GIVES A DAMN ABT THE HOTEL. HE WENT OUT OF THE WAY TO PROTECT THE PLACE AND TOLD MIMZY TO LEAVE IF SHE DIDN'T COME FOR REDEMPTION. MAYBE ITS IN HIS OWN WEIRD-GUARDED-PETTY WAY BUT FUCK FUCK HOOOLLLYY FUCK ALASTOR CARES

and one more thing b4 i move onto ep 6, i've already seen some ppl comparing what al did to husk in the hall to angel and val's dynamic, and while i do agree the two are both trapped in unsavory deals (loser, baby literally confirms this) i don't think al's ANYWHERE near as bad as val. was what he did fucked up? oh, yes, definitely. but it really?? shouldn't be surprising??? al's in hell ‘n has all this status for a reason, so i was really just waitin for a moment like that to happen. however, it didn't do any lasting damage. at least i really wouldn't say so. most it did was scare the shit out of husk for a minute, nowhere close to what val does to angel on the daily (see: episode 6). tho im willing to admit i might be lookin thru rose colored glasses bc i love al as a character. my opinion might change when/if the actual conditions of al and husks deal are revealed, but as of rn, i think al acted as he did there bc husk attacked a reeeally sensitive subject. he would've just been the petty bitch he always is if husk said like.. anythin else. oh and uhh yeah im abt 85% sure he and lilith have SOMETHING goin on. idk who the hell else would be powerful enough to have alastor on a leash

..oh yeah, lastly, lucifer was cool :] silly silly guy (with lotsa trauma) that hit me right in the daddy issues. funny tho, i rlly dont have much to say abt the guy despite the ep literally being focused on him. his song with charile was spectacular though, i need to listen to it on its own immediately

okokok, episode 6, finally, hopefully shorter than the mess of text above

first off. vaggie = fallen angel theorists, i would like to bow down and apologize for ever doubting you. i was one of the skeptics, i really was, but the show did it in a way that (albeit rushed, but what hasn't been so far?, thaaanks, 8-episode limit..) made it seem believable, with assdam calling her out for it..

but putting adam aside, uh, lute?? maam?? holy fuck, step on me??? please???? i mean uh. sick character design yk ahah ^^

whats her name.. emily? the younger seraphim girl, i liked her, she was a cutie. she really did just seem like heavens version of charlie. and the older seraphim woman i (expectedly) have mixed feelings abt. i feel like all would've be great it adam got outta her damn ear cause she might've actually be down to try the hotel with em gone.. angel was doing so well

speaking of angel, ANGEL!! oh lookit that character development, charlie's gonna be so fuckn proud!!! also, CHERRI!!!! saw someone else say cherris the devil on angels shoulder while husks the (heh) angel, and i have to say i agree. they both want the best for him, they just have different ways of goin about it.

unsurprisingly, fuck Valentino. although i did notice he was wearing a dress today, so. (through gritted teeth) slay.

thiiink that's all i gotta say for today?? besides the fact that next week is gonna be agonizing, ofc :] buckle up ppl we might get a genuine, emotional chaggie fight come next thursday

..oh yeah!! molly!!! we briefly saw molly!!!! i hope youre absolutely thriving girl, you deserve no less <3

[almalvo]

STAR TREK: DISCOVERY | S1E2 "Battle at the Binary Stars"

[I will react to each episode individually and in full, raw reception and then post as is unrevised here onto my tumblr for the full span of every and all NuTrek episodes and series that have been and will be released. If this falls under your field of interest - I welcome your company in joining me. Enjoy the ride.] -------

god this show looks so fucking juicy with all its colours and shapes and resolution … BURNHAM IS SAREK'S WARD??????? bro bro is she a sibling in upbringing with spock or something. everyons so fucking pretty ugh these sounds i really want this uniform LMAO THAT LOOK SARU GIVES BURNHAM AHHAHAHAHAHAHAHA saru is so good looking UGHH THIS INTRO I CANT I CANTTTT LOOK AT IT ITS SO PRETTYYY i love the feeling DISCO gives me im so happy for star trek getting such a massive visual and all around production upgrade also i just realised since old-trek's Star Trek Enterprise series, we have been inching closer and closer to the one that started it all. Star Trek ENTERPRISE > DISCOVERY > STRANGE NEW WORLDS…

does this… mean we are…. just possibly……… heading into a reprisal of some kind of "Origins" production in the future non-AOS?

if so i know it will never be a replacement of what is irreplacable. but im actually EXCITED to see something like that. if even it were to be a bad project, it would still be such a tickling spectacle - an experience that reminds us of where we came from.

but also.. to see what came before to be such a modern topic to discuss and potentially (i fucking wish) revive the world with its gravity and vision - all eyes on Star Trek once again……… it would be so worth it. it would be. everything.

anyways back to the episode LMAO UGHHH look at the way all the united federation ships warp in among their brethren ughhhhh ughhhhhhh takes my breath awaayy i like klingon whats odd is it sounds so slow in this rendition man the amount of work it took to get this pronunciation right ughhhh everything looks so pretty in this literally movie quality for a TREK series

no but also one more thing - back to the idea about the future of modern trek, since the movie saga has fallen flat, if we head into a modern revival of TOS, featuring AOS cast as a different universe/mirrorverse or seomthing cameo in TV/STREAMING EPISODIC FORMAT would be just… JUST-

...

i am so curious as to how and why burnham and sarek are even existing together simultaneously ugh damn look at the damage on the ship the detail i love saru's eyes hearing this as the ship's computer voice is so odd to me because im so used to Majel's voice but hey its smooth what is happening also oh my god this mind meld scene is so pretty oh my god im so curious how Burnham and Spock's dynamic even IS THE FUCKKK?? what would that even BE??? i only know spock exists because that is one of the few spoilers ive seen of this show - i KNOW hes in DISCO. as well as pike but thats it. what purpose they serve and why? no idea. and how burnham becomes captain?? god im so curious iits so intersting to hear statements as familiar as "weapons disabled" being said in such a new setting. with such a new sound for somehting so classic. tractor beam WHO WHOS EUROPA? WHATS ON THAT SHIP WHOOO

the human and klingon transmission will never be in peace… until far into TOS's timeline.. man this is so INTERESTING. HEARING KLINGON TERRAN. I CANT LIE i miss their fabulous long locks of hair bro klingon ship is fucking knifing through this ship dude that is so hardcore but also devastating af oh my god this antimatter explosion looks so fucking pretty admiral is gone the chian of command shifts how does this go phillipa doenst become admiral does she? then burnham as captain i doubt its this easy nah its so weird to hear klingon so spaced t'kuvma is such a cool name ughhhh lok at all the WARPPPING SHIPSSSS hearing klingon accent is cool love how smart the ship is oh god burnham you MADLAD yo they goin hard the klingon attire is so victorian english inspired not too keen on that ahha ughhh saru is sooo NICE TO LOOK AT such nice features this ready room is very reminiscent of what is to become enterprise internal design i mean, of course. but i just cant help but hype over it all thats interesting, to have a human taught as vulcan. hmm a subtly different circumstance than that of spock. the visual aberration effect is working well in this series ahaha DISCO has a very…. odd feeling from since its first episode that continues into its second one - it doesnt feel super episodic at all? it feels all like a really long montage. the sets are so pretty whoa those armoured vests though? touch screen energising ughh the gold animation of the energising effect is lovely those klingons dropped so fast and easy from those phasers dude these are some of the sexiest phaser designs ive ever seen. the klingons are just dropping like nothing whoa burnham's yell when the klingon grabbed her was so not her XD it didnt sound like her oh wow we are actually seeing the short handheld klingon knife OH SHIT well i see that this is how phllipa is usurped by burnham.. BRO YOU JUST LEFT HER BODY THERE hmmm interesting the pacing of the first two episodes is very… fast

t'kuvma is dead already?? i think its this pale klingon that ive seen on the comic cover whoaaaa all these shuttle/escape pods leaving like baby toads off momma's back XD (if you know, you know.) its so montagey very consistently - i guess THIS is where we start the series as it is to be? i really like this chiaroscuro lighting hm. its over already huh idk if its me - but apart from the visually and audially beautiful presentation - it has an odd feeling to it i cant lie. i think it must be because of this 2-episode montage. i hope it is.

i guess ill find out.

[waterdroplet02]

"...And you're expecting me to... keep this just 'cause of that?!"

"Mmm... well, whatever it means to you, perhaps that decision is yours; but to me, Merix, it means I will not be accepting it. A gift must not be traded away."

"I- ugh."

Scoffing, they set down the dragon's gift on the coffee table near them, onto one of the softer parts of the covering. Then, they went to lean onto a bookshelf. "Y'know I'm not the careful type, right? Hell, needed a new phone after droppin' my last one. I'll drop this thing. I ain't takin' care of crap, Thal, let alone a-"

"That," the wizard interrupted, "is only what you think!" He stood suddenly, but calmly, from his chair. "See, you give yourself far less credit than you ought to, my friend.

"That cellphone you speak of; was that not only your previous one? Is your current model not one decade old?" He gave Merix a friendly questioning glance.

The gift victim looked away for a few moments, looking annoyed, then shook their head. "...Irrelevant. I ain't 'special'. Thal, just- just take this. Know you're obsessed with dragons, surely you're droolin' to have it. I don't want it, 'kay?"

Shaking his head, Thal cleverly tried to think of any way to get them to accept. "But what about the dragon? The dragon certainly wants you to have it. I would know, in fact, seeing its behavior when it met you up close."

"...god, I regret goin' with you to that exhibit."

"Why so? Come on, Merix, friend. Did you not forge a special bond with that beast?"

Merix cringed thinking back to that time last week. "I did. Regret it."

"You did, and the dragon evidently befriended you back. Well enough to give you this, of all things! It is truly special to receive such a thing, you know!"

"...just why the hell would it give me one?! Thought they'd be more protective about these?"

"Not this particular species, no; with how many they tend to earn themselves, you'll find they give these away more often with less of a criteria than one would think. But, of course, only to the most trusted of friends."

Merix just rolled their eyes in response. It would've helped if they knew this back in the exhibit before Thal had made them try to 'connect' with the nearest dragon they saw.

"Look," began Thal. He took a step toward Merix, laying a gentle hand on their supposed gift sitting on the coffee table. "You are a more careful and reliable person than you think. Merix, my friend, have you not always underestimated yourself like this?"

They snickered unenthusiastically. "More like the dragon overestimated me."

"Oh, these winged creatures are far more knowing than one would think, you know." He turned around and walked back toward his chair.

Thal then picked up one of the small figures of dragons from his desk, holding it up for both of them to see. "It knew you're capable of possessing such a priceless object, and thus, I know too. Must you dare doubt the judgement of such a being?"

He just receives an unamused glare from Merix.

Eventually, though, they say something in response, looking exasperated. "...God, Thal. Droppin' the act, bein' honest with you here. I don't care about this thing. Didn't ask for it, just saw it dropped in our garbage bin- you're the dragons guy. Me? Gonna get home, stuff this in a cupboard who the hell knows where in our kitchen, not givin' a crap if it falls apart in there. Don't care."

Thal snickered, and gave Merix a very sly look. "Do you, now?"

"Don't. I'll kick this to pieces now for all I care, and I don't."

"Do you?"

"No, I-"

Suddenly, Thal elbowed the bookshelf Merix is leaning on, and a book began to fall out, right above the dragon's gift. It tipped over before either of them could do anything, and...

...Merix quickly slapped it out of trajectory, protecting the gift. It tumbled over onto the floor nearby, and opened to a page about the early life of a growing dragon. "Wh- what the hell, dude?! Are you insane?!"

But Thal only smirked. "Heh, friend. That tome was easily within your range, and I know your reflexes wouldn't let it past-- and if that does not reassure you, I had already enabled a protective spell beforehand." He aptly tries to slap the gift, to Merix's evident horror, but only to hit an invisible forcefield around it.

Thal then somehow gently picked up the object straight through its protection spell, and presented it to Merix. "You do, in fact, care for this, my friend. In addition to my reasons earlier, I have seen it in your eyes since you walked in here with it, and have been noticing as you decisively set it down on specifically my cushioned coffee table."

Merix kept silent, gazing away from Thal and down over to his five coffee tables. They did, in fact, choose to put it on the only one with a cloth covering over it.

"...Do not worry," said Thal, after letting them process some thoughts. He continues, "I, out of anyone, would certainly know how to assist you in maintaining this gift. Contact me for whatever it is you're concerned about, okay, friend?" Thal nodded his head toward one of the books.

"...okay. Fine."

-----

Merix stepped down the porch, as Thal waved goodbye behind them, closing the door. "Can't be too bad, right," they thought to themself, before hearing a little 'crack' come from the gift in their hands.

"...Ah, crap." Having started jogging down the sidewalk, they tried to waste as little time possible finding a nice, suitable environment back home for their hatching dragon's egg.

Sometimes dragons are capable of making friends. To these friends, they give gifts. And these gifts act as messages to other dragons saying “don’t harm this one, they’re special.”

[scream-play]

ACT II - SCENE II

[Fifteen minutes away from their arrival, the plan has changed and the gas of the car put a wrench in it all. ANDRÉ was trying his best to savor the scenery as he looked out the tinted window on his side. He was keeping himself busy, bored out of his mind; tapping against surfaces, observing anything he sees, playing games in his head, when the stranger scowls, maneuvering past multiple cars as he takes a sudden turn.]

STRANGER: (Groans.) This dumb empty gas tank gonna fire me up.

[ANDRÉ looks around. The building is a gas station connected to a small store.]

STRANGER: (To ANDRÉ.) Stay here, don't move - don't even think about it. [He plans to walk into the store in a rush, careful not to use his credit card.]

ANDRÉ: (Rushes out.) I uh, I really need to use the b-bathroom, man. Please, just-

STRANGER: (Narrows eyes.) Well, I mean, they don't have a bathroom here - you can hit the can at the next stop. Don't worry 'bout it. I really need to get some gas in this car so I can get us where we're 'goin, Dré.

[That's definitely a bad sign, ANDRÉ thinks.]

ANDRÉ: (He sighs and looks at the mask on the floor. The glove box is shut; the item and its sharp edges are still in there.) Of course, yeah. That's fine.

STRANGER: (Grins.) Perfect.

[The stranger slams the door shuts and quickly walks to the door, pushing it open and smiling at the other people in the small store. ANDRÉ watches until he's out of view. Catching sight of the keys still in the ignition, he grabs it and keeps his movements still. He lets his hand rest at his side, but still holds onto it with a death grip. In only two minutes or so, the worried stranger is rushing back out of the store, jaw tightening as he realizes he forgot his keys.]

STRANGER: (Said slowly, steadily in anger as he grinds his teeth together.) Tell me where my keys are. Where are they, Dré?

[A twisted and sickening feeling forms in his gut, like a rock in his stomach - dropping with no parachute. Tethered in doubt for a fleeting moment, he regrets this before he catches his doubts and crushes them. I am going through with the idea, he reminds himself, I have to.]

ANDRÉ: (Smiles.) Here. (Opens the car door where his hand was resting the entire time and throws the keys as far as he can into the dark woods.) Go fetch.

ANDRÉ: (Runs into the gas station as fast as he can while the stranger fumbles to find his keys with shaky hands.)

[My weapons are in there, how am I going to make him pay if I can't even get in my own car, the stranger asks himself as he sneers.]

ANDRÉ: (To security.) Lock the doors, now! M-murderer! (He breathes heavily and bends down, holding his knees as he tries to catch his breath.)

[His backpack has a bad habit of weighing him down in serious situations.]

SECURITY MAN: (Like muscle memory, he locks the door in a second as ANDRÈ rests his head on his shoulder.)

SECURITY MAN: (Hugs ANDRÉ and draws small circles onto his back with his palm.)

ANDRÉ: I think he... (Sniffs.) I think he liked me in his own way. He wanted to trust me and befriend me.

SECURITY MAN: (Shakes head.) His mind is wired differently. It's wired in a very strange way, hun. Manipulation sounds like one of his tactics.

ANDRÉ: (Looks into the security man's brown eyes with a frown.) He makes me feel weird. I feel like I'm constantly about to literally vomit when near him.

SECURITY MAN: (Laughs and runs fingers through ANDRÉ'S hair, comforting him.) That sounds about right.

[Giving up on finding his keys and his whole plan, the stranger bangs on the door with his knuckles until they bleed.]

ANDRÉ: (Whispers.) Oh god, he's crazy.

[The cashier who was in a different, smaller room opens the door and peeks their head out the door, then motions for the sweet security man to follow. He does, but not before giving ANDRÉ another pat on the back. And even with the distance and them being in the other room, ANDRÉ can hear exactly what they're saying.]

CASHIER: The police are on the way, but I have an inkling that the imbecile out there is the serial killer they're currently looking for!

SECURITY MAN: And Zaira, what makes you think that?

CASHIER: Don't you dare doubt me and my abiliti-

SECURITY MAN: I'm not, it was a question.

CASHIER: Yeah, whatever. Anyway, do you remember the cops talking about there being a multitude of murders near this area that were connected to hitchhiking and backpacking?

SECURITY MAN: Why'd you word it like that?

CASHIER: (In a serious tone.) You've got to be kidding me, Sulli. Can you be even slightly serious for one second?

SECURITY MAN: Sorry. Go on.

CASHIER: It's him! It has to be.

[quandaryqueen]

Fools Part II

Assault on Arkham Edward Nygma X Reader

After escaping a draining relationship, you find a way to restore the previous fervour for life... But fate had other plans.

Prepare yourself, this is going to be a long one.

Part I

"Oooh~" Coos Harley Quinn in intrigue. You try your best to remain apathetic, turning away and pretending you did not notice her. "I spy with my little eye, the Riddler's sweetheart!"

It irked you. Riddler's sweetheart? It's been a year since you walked away from him, but Harley does not have a way to know. It's not like a hiatus of Quandary can tell her of your split from Edward. You sigh, dropping the act. Of course Harley Quinn is here and of course, she just had to announce your presence.

"Quinn." You begrudgingly acknowledge her.

The former psychiatrist giggles before she launched herself to cling on your neck. "How's it goin' Quandie?"

"All was well until this happened." Or should I say, after this will happen. Whatever does Amanda Waller need you for? You've been clean for the past year, what could she possibly want from you?

With that revelation, everyone now knew that the casually-clothed person among them was the Riddler's former sidekick. Just your luck. It came to some fellow night crawlers that the Quandary's real identity is obscured despite being as well-known as the Riddler. Everyone knows who the Riddler is, Edward Nygma, but Quandary? Who knows? The only known details about them is their repertoire of prowess, the public debated that the mysterious figure is a multi-talented individual...

Who would have thought Y/N L/N, co-owner of the quaint cafe in 19th Street is Gotham's most wanted criminal Quandary? Amanda Waller apparently.

Ever since you walked out of the Riddler's workshop, slipped your ring off, you've abandoned your identity. You were no longer the Quandary to his Riddler and you were no longer L/N-Nygma. Everything was going fine without him but then these people decided to fuck you over. You've yet to know what was up, but fuck it, things like these succeed in seldom.

Introductions are far from needed, everyone seems to be getting along already, the nanobomb in your neck can attest to the bind of your new friendship. One quarell, aka distraction and boom. KGBeast's head was blown up, but all's fun. Escaping was out of the option, now that you're a member of the Task Force X. The hope of living normally again was taken away the moment you were finally well-adjusted back to society. Now you're sitting in the floor with six other criminals, excluding the guy whose head was blown off the moment he tried to go against Amanda Waller.

She started the meeting with a heavy one, "You're going to break in Arkham Asylum."

Sure, you have no problem with that, you've studied its structure for the benefit of breaking your former husband out, along with some of his friends. Quandary was the reason why Arkham now utelises motion lights in every corner. You can break in, with teammates surely it won't be as difficult even if their reactions vary from disbelief, namely Black Spider, Killer Frost, Captain Boomerang and King Shark, and of course enthusiasm from Lawton and Quinzel. With a wide array of teammates, consider it done.

"A week ago while in my employ, a lowlife calling himself the Riddler managed to gain access to my computer system."

Well shit. Pfft, of course Waller needs you in a way that can be held leverage to Edward. Not that he cares anyway, she would just be wasting her time if she thought she can utelise you against him. You have moved pass Edward but... What was he up to? What benefit would grant him to post information about the suicide squad? He couldn't care less for fellow convicts... Unless, of course, he needed something else from Waller. A dirt of sorts. Edward is not above doing blackmail, so no doubt blackmailing Amanda Waller really is his goal.

She continues. "He downloaded a file containing the identities and histories of every current, past and potential members of the suicide squad. He's threatning to release them all in the internet. You're going to get it back. Riddler's got one copy, and it's on a thumb-drive in his cane. Which is currently locked away in the Arkham property room."

"In the intensive treatment building right under the solitary confinement cells... Good times, ain't it, Quandie?" She turns to you with a certain fondness at the mention of Arkham.

You cannot reciprocate her nostalgia, you have never been incarcerated in Arkham. Your means of entering the building was only breaking some fellow criminals out for your benefit.

"Sure." You can only answer to Quinzel's musings with a void of interest.

"So we'll get someone inside," Deadshot chimes in.

"Is it me? Can it be me? Dibs!" Harley cheerfully exclaims, before she once again latches herself on you. You fail to hide the blantant irritation in your eyes as she shook you excitedly. She couldn't care less about your vexation. "Come on, Quandie! It'll be just like old times!"

You only broke in Arkham with her once and you weren't particularly thrilled about it. She wasn't really serious when you needed her to.

"Harley Quinn and Quandary both have encyclopedic knowledge of Arkham's layout and its logistics." Amanda Waller adds. "You'll be snuck into Gotham. You will rendezvous with a power broker who will set you up for the break in. This is as off the grid it gets, so keep the body count minimum. Deadshot, rubber bullets only."

"What about the bats?" Lawton brings up a good point. Ahh, Bats. You really didn't miss him.

"He has his hands full on another case. In fact if we get it right, we might be able to take advantage of him." After that, she begins to saunter off.

The last thing you remember was Amanda Waller scoffing in amusement, before turning away. "Gas them."

Then, you awoke, situated beside Black Spider and strapped to your seat. Amanda Waller once again wanted to present the complete control she has by dropping you in individual boxes and refused to open the parachutes until the last minute. Once the chaos has somewhat subsided, you were deployed to Gotham and arrived in the Power broker Amanda had mentioned via the sewers to avoid the Bat's radar. You were told he's kept busy but it was better safe than sorry. The aforementioned power broker was someone by the name of Oswald Cobblepot. All were a blur to you, but you only became more aware of your surroundings after dinner.

Harley was urging you to "catch up" over a glass of wine, but you declined. And to avert her attention away from you, you pointed at Lawton. Hopefully he doesn't mind her floundering about around him for your peace and quiet.

Harley wasn't the only one interested in mingling with you, in the form of Digger Harkness thinking you're a lovely little sport, draping his arm on your shoulder with a steinbif beer in hand.

"Oi, L/N! Care to join us for a pint?"

"No." Blunt and straightforward, you hoped it was enough to drive a point and yet he doesn't get it.

"Oh c'mon now, loosen up." He drawls, his weight relying on yours for balance.

Since simple refusal were already hard to comprehend for his sloshed state, you opted for an action that spoke louder. You grab his wrist and pried it off you, before taking a step aside causing him to stumble. You left with a huff, taking indignant steps to your room.

On your way back, you pass between Killer Frost and King Shark. You paid no mind to them, they seem to be getting along quite well despite the misstep in their introduction when Nanaue tried to take a bite of Louise. You didn't notice their heads turn to your direction when you cut between them, brows furrowing as to why you looked as though steam was coming out of your ears.

You arrive at your door but as you twist the knob, someone calls you by your alterego. You need not turn, you knew it was the Black Spider.

"What is it?" You turn to him, hands resting on the doorknob, just wanting to make this quick.

He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed to his chest. You hoped that this will not further spiral downwards to a full interrogation, you needed your sleep for fuck's sake.

"I was made aware of your previous affiliations with the target. Rumours also state that your relationship with the Riddler were... personal."

What the fuck does he mean by that? Wait, nevermind. With his tone, you already knew where this was going. And you can't fault him.

"You heard right. If you need assurance that I won't screw this operation up simply because of my forfeited connection with Nygma, you needn't worry. Our days together are over."

He seems to be satisfied with your answer. "Good. Just making sure we don't have another lovesick Quinzel."

"Right, I see where you're coming from." And by god, you hoped that Quin doesn't encounter Joker. "It's that all?"

"Yes. Thank you for humouring me." And with that, he turned to the corridor and was no longer there.

Finally, you were able to get inside your room and collapse on the bed.

All those months you stay clean from crime, you steer yourself in a better direction in life after a decade of experience with Edward. It was pathetic that you blamed it all on him back then. It was your choice to tamper with evidences pointing at the Riddler back in your GCPD Pathologist days, it was your choice to break him out of Arkham, it was your choice to follow him in life of a crime. You chose to become Quandary. It was your choice to become a fool.

Admittedly, it was fun while it lasted. The chaos you stirred with him, the riddles, god the riddles... You would be lying if you said you didn't miss them... It's been a year, why does it still hurt? The relenting absence of his presence in your life continues to persists and hinder your daily life. It hurts the same the moment you walked out his life. Your finger has been itching without the wedding band on it and you tried once to wear a different to fill in the sense of its absence, but it didn't felt the same. You tried to force it in yourself to move on and yet everything reminded you of him. And now you're presented the opportunity to see him again. Or is it? I mean, the mission isn't him, it's retrieving the copy of the documents he downloaded.

After tossing and turning, every hour that pass made you more restless. Frustration had you shooting up from the bed and rummage through the drawers. Surely the Penguin kept some sleeping pills in these rooms? To you chagrin, it didn't. You huff out it disappointment, once again seating yourself on the corner of your bed. Sleepless nights aren't new to you, the bouts insomnia brought by the circumstances you find yourself in. It really didn't help that you just downed a cup of caffeine to ease your headache. A glance at the clock by the bedside table informed you it was too late to sleep. It looks like you'll be downing another bottle of energy drink to keep yourself active in this suicide mission.

With no other choice, you bend to reach for the bag under the bed where your Quandary uniform has been kindly fetched from your apartment. It was ensured that they have done so discreetly, you've contacted your friend awhile ago to inform them of your absence, as if you were gone for a mundane trip. A rush of emotions flooded you, the uniform in your grasp remained the same after you had put it away.

You don't know what will happen, but you doubt this was a simple "retrieve and leave" kind of thing. Amanda Waller recruited you of all people, the fact that Edward is here and knows your relationship with him. Well... previous. But it solidifies your suspicion that she might be using you against him.

The arrival in Arkham is the cathartic one, of course. From the delay of the planting of the device to sneak yourself in Arkham due to Harley Quinn encountering her ex much to your chagrin, the guards, the cooperation of the team (lack thereof) and of course, your lackluster of a performance in the battlefield. Amanda Waller had instructed a minimal amount of body count and that didn't go well. Lawton and Harkness were in their bouts of their one-sided dick measuring contest, making a fool of themselves in the process and causing an officer to radio in an emergency alert.

There was a protruding vein on your temple, pulsating with frustration. Perhaps working alone was more of your thing, breaking into Arkham isn't this difficult for you with enough prep time. It took you all will power not to walk off and just go home. If it weren't for the nanobomb administered at the back of your neck, you would have ditched. Not to mention, you do not look forward to possibly encounter Eddie. You really did not want a repeat of Harley Quinn encountering the Joker.

Thankfully, it has been managed, your headache subsided and the only thing left for you to do was to retrieve the cane from the property room.

"Bingo," was uttered monotonously under your breath upon spotting the Riddler's crate of property. Deadshot followed behind, helping you pry the crate's lid. There, you found the main objective. Stacked atop myriads of books and complicated puzzles, the Riddler's cane.

You watch Lawton picked up the cane, but instead of opening the passage at the tip of the modified handle of the cane, he hands it to you.

"You open it."

You blink owlishly at him from the lense of your dark visors and obeyed, reaching the for question mark-shaped cane. You twist the section of the cane, the spherical, compact make-shift storage of the supposed thumb-drive. Everyone watched in anticipation as you twist it open, only for it to be empty, replacing the anticipation with shock... At least to them, it was empty of the target they intend to retrieve, but to you, it wasn't.

In the storage, was your and his wedding bands. You had your mask to hide to dumbfounded look on your face. A certain dread racked your entire body, quivering from the cold. Was it always this cold?

He... He kept it all this time?

You thought he would have thrown them away or sold it off, he told you weren't significant for him to waste an ounce of his time to think about you. You weren't worth the time to be considered to be an object of sentiment, he often chastised you for being overly sentimental and yet... He must've not had time to dispose of them, that's the only answer. He made it clear you were unnecessary in his life— but why would he go an extra mile to store your rings together in his cane?

You've long since shut down and did not notice everyone around you in a surge of panic. Killer Frost was missing, Deadshot pointed out how she was eyeing patient's cells— Eddie's cell in the security room. The rest of the team has caught on to the fact that this mission isn't about retrieving the thumb-drive. Edward knows something, he knows everything. He hacked Waller's system and fuck, you doubt it was about retrieving what he stole. He already seen them, read them, probably had it mentally noted. Why steal the documents back, when you can silence him? And with that realisation, you immediately pocketed the rings and made a mad dash towards the wing of Arkham patients.

Unfortunately, the chaos you've caused from the break-in had resulted into summoning Arkham's special forces, aka, the ones with the shields and guns, and will shoot if you don't cooperate. If only your break-in was silent, this could've been less loud. Thankfully, Waller has yet to find out about it.

You spot Killer Frost and... Him in a bit of a pickle, having been surrounded by the special forces, lacking any defense other than a broken slab of what used to be and what should be a wall. Things would have escalated from there if you didn't arrive with weapons and defenses.

This was the nearest you could ever come to Edward, the deep seated feeling of feelings were ignored and shoved further down by busying yourself with shooting back at the special forces. Harley was the only one who squinted at you for reaction and even if your face was concealed, she knows you were pushed in a tumultuous corner. That, and the fact that your aim was off.

As for Edward, try as he may to play it cool but to see you again... It does make memories resurface. Mainly, your last moments together, he was unsure how to approach. Would it make sense to approach you? Well, in his excuse, he knows that the only reason why you're here, is because of him. What else could it be? Of course Waller was going to use you against him, that's the oldest trick in the book. Or maybe it was the fact that you were a highly efficient jack of all trades.

"You were supposed to off him as instructed by Waller, correct?" Your voice was heavy with voice modulation built within your mask, but the shiver down in Edward's back was all the same. "Care to tell us why you spared him?"

"Yes. He says he knows how to turn off the bomb." Killer Frost says, side-eyeing the Riddler as if asking him to back her up.

And that he did, turning around and lowering the collar of his Arkham inmate uniform. On his nape, was the similar X mark where the bombs were implanted.

"Look familiar?" He says. "I can do it, but you have to get me to the medical bay."

"We got maybe five minutes before Waller figures out what's what." Deadshot says. You sense the improbability of that happening, since the threat of the special forces are barely neutralised. "We get to that room, or we're dead."

"We should've brought a tank." What Digger thought was a mere sarcastic quip, ended up being somewhat helpful.

"We have one." Lawton firmly pointed out, before glancing at King Shark.

Thankfully, there were no further arguements that ensued. Nanaue was particularly blunt in terms of revealing his fear of heights, but thankfully Killer Frost was there to offer her guidance. A ripped piece of fabric did the trick and some of Killer Frost's guidance, King Shark was finally able to eliminate the threat of the special forces. Soon, you were on the move for the med bay.

Edward practically burst in the medical bay, making a beeline straight to the complex control panel and monitors and began twiddling away. His voice was nonchalant, as he goes about things as casually.

"Let's see now, we need this on, this for back up..." He mutters to himself, then turns to all of you. "Grab a chair."

And so you did. You were wary of this little operation of his, seeing as the med bay contains a lot of things. Knowing Edward, oh lord, anything can be a weapon for this man. God knows, maybe the whole thing is an elaborate ruse for him to kill you... You took a seat nonetheless. Black Spider took his place by the window, keeping a lookout.

"How do you diffuse this bomb exactly?" Lawton asks, he must've had the same doubts as you were.

"It's the electro shock."

"The what now?" Boomerang raises a brow.

"I'm gonna run a thousand bolts through your head and fry your bombs." You can only watch with narrowed gaze as Edward gathered wires with pads meant to stick to your body. God, this doesn't bode well with you. "Good, now put your chairs around a circle around old sparky here."

You settle on your seat, white-knuckling the armrest as he goes around, distributing the adhesive pads and strapping your fellow inmates one by one. Everyone had stressed the fact that they were wary of whatever this operation is, Edward seems to be confident. You hated how he didn't take too long to get to you and god, the tension was already suffocating before.

"Lose the mask, Y/N." His voice was light, sweet even. It was sickening.

First of all, how dare he act as if you're back to first name basis and second, why is he pretending as if nothing happened?

But you complied, slipping your mask off and shaking your hair in place.

Edward knows how to keep things internal, so it wasn't that noticeable when he froze. To see you in your uniform was one thing, but seeing you take your mask off, be Y/N... You were as beautiful as the last he's saw you.

"Any conductives in your pockets?"

"O-Oh um..." Fuck, you didn't expect your voice to come out like that. Shy, flustered even. Your eyes refused to meet his. Not to mention, how you fumble to retrieve something in your pocket.

The confidence front he's cultivated cracked for a split-second, having bee caught off-guard when you handed him your wedding rings. He didn't expect you to keep it in your pocket after you collected the cane from the property room, where the supposed hard-drive was in.

You look up for the first time, his face sunken with solemnity. He must be deep in thought to pause like this, his eyes fixed on the rings that you placed on his palm. Not a word was spoken in the room, you couldn't sense the other presence and the eyes that were on you. The only person you could see was your lost love and how you sense his feelings. However, you wish not to prolong this stupid fucking personal stuff. It would be hypocritical of you to roll your eyes at Harley for being emotional at the sight of Joker, but here you were, unable to find your bearings before the Riddler.

"You can strap me down now."

"Of course." And just like that, you clicked the Riddler in place and his typical bravado returns.

He first pockets the bonds, before he binds you down. He was gentle, making sure the restraints weren't too constricting. He can't have your skin chaffed from his carelessness.

"It'll all be okay." His hands lingered longer than he intended, slender digits relishing the warmth that he missed. But he pried himself off before he can get carried away.

Goosebumps erupted from your skin when his fingers traced along your arm and you resisted the incoming shiver that came with it. It was already bad enough that your personal bygones were coming back in full screen before fellow rogues and not to mention, how it hinders.

All the grudge just suddenly disappeared and you didn't know why. He didn't even said he was sorry, nor do you even see it ever coming and yet you were ready to forgive him... Better yet, you already forgave him. And you were angry at yourself at the fact that you fell for him, hell, even before you can see him again. When you found the rings tucked away in the secret storage of the cane, you were at a back and fourth between your skepticism and optimism, the fact that he must've kept it because how it meant to him. And seeing him freeze when you present him the ring further solidifies that he had indeed kept it due to sentiments.

As of cue, Waller calls the leader, Lawton, but that didn't stop Edward from working. He broke off a piece of wood from a mop as a makeshift silencer for each of you. When he assist you with yours, you avert his gaze. You didn't want another repeat of the pause between you, especially when Waller is already on-call with Lawton and he's doing a bad job lying to save all your asses.

All was prepared, Waller was on the line and the electric shock was bumped to the appropriate setting, distributing electricity equally among you. A scream would have ripped itself loudly from your lungs if it weren't for the piece of wood between your teeth. Edward can only watch you convulse on your seat with a wince, his chest being ripped from the sound of your muffled pain. A few seconds more and he turns off the machine.

Your body slumped over and with your ragged breathing, the wood fell from your lips. The room stenched with smoke and you swore you saw stars dotting your vision whilst the electricity was coursing through your skin.

"Fuck, that better be it." Your voice came out from your squeezed throat.

"I'm never doing that again." Boomerang pants, eyes squinted in pain.

"Are you kidding? I feel great!" Typical Harley.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" Edward asks, voice laced with worry.

"Why'd his head explode?"

You didn't get the chance to respond, hearing a familiar beeping beside you, coming from King Shark.

"Uh... Guys?" Nanaue utters nervously.

"Run it again!" Killer Frost barks, her voice raspy.

"I don't know, maybe he has thick skin?" Edward says, voice different from when he spoke to you, as he was more nonchalant at the face of emergency.

And before you knew it, a clot blood shot at your direction and King Shark's metal mouthpiece shot forward, almost hitting Lawton and piercing through the wall. Upon opening your eyes, the figure beside you was now headless.

"Because the bomb in his neck neck didn't diffuse, you asshole." Killer Frost snaps at Boomerang.

"So what's his excuse?" Digger glances at Black Spider, who stood by the window with his head intact.

"Ohoho, that's rich..." Everyone glanced at Edward. "Haven't you solved it yet? The Black Spider, is Batman!"

Without warning, he pulls out a Glock from his pocket and began shooting towards who you thought was the Black Spider. His aim was sloppy, giving Batman a window of opportunity to throw a batarang at him, resulting to him stumbling back and accidentally twisting the control panel, activating the electro shock again.

With no muffler, screams filled the room and when you said you couldn't take a single shot of electricity in your system, you meant it. The mission was a complete shitshow, your body hurts, Batman now knows your identity, somehow it had gotten worse when the fucking Joker appeared shooting shots and throwing marble-like bombs.

You break free from your restraints from the excessive thrashing, thankfully Edward didn't made it all too tight. You yank adhesive wire off your temples, breathing heavily in amidst the smoke filled room. Upon slipping your mask back on, you pull Edward's unconscious body out of the room. You find yourself separated from the Task Force X when you got yourself and Edward in a secluded spot in the asylum. At this point, you couldn't care less about them, nor the mission. As if you'd fulfill the real mission, Waller can fucking suck it.

"Hey," you didn't hold back smacking Edward's face to wake him up. "Get up, I'm busting you out." You only stopped when you heard him sputter, his eyes shooting open and blinking rapidly to adjust his vision.

"What happened?"

"Your aim was shitty and Batman subdued your threats. You could've watched where you hand landed, I thought I'd throw up blood after that second dose of electric shock." You groan, throwing your head back and cracking it. "Look, we need to get out. The bomb's already diffused, Arkham's about to be hell and transportation will be difficult to obtain."

"Any ideas?" You rose a brow at his question.

"Aren't I supposed to be asking you that question?"

"Between you and I, you're far knowledgeable than I in this field."

He is still enamoured at the memory of you breaking him out of here for the very first time. And to be reunited through these circumstances, it almost felt poetic, walking back through memory lane.

You didn't realise you already had your mask on, looking away from him to conceal the rushing heat spreading across your face.

"Alright then," you cleared your throat. "There's a chopper, but I doubt that we'd get there especially with our lack of weapons. Arkham is presumably going to undergo a lockdown from the break-in."

"How did you even get in?" He asks.

"Penguin gave us a hand. Had a strategy catering to our roles and abilities, some of us entered disguised as staffs—" you paused, eyes widening at an epiphany. "Heh... I got it. Let's get you out of that uniform, shall we?"

Edward smirks, the long-lost warm feeling spreading across his finally returning to him, reigniting the feeling he thought he'd never feel again. He's partial to following ones lead, but he doesn't have any problem following you because in no time, Arkham Asylum was no longer in sight. You got yourself saddled in a stolen car and booked it.

"I missed you. There was no passing moment wherein I didn't think of you. You simply had an impact on me, I can't the deny the fact that I relied on you so much that I forget to do some things." Edward blurts amidst the drive, solemn eyes remaining in the road. Your neck practically snap at his direction. "I'm sorry I... I was acting like a fool."

Your tense shoulders grew lax. "Oh Eddie..."

"I truly am sorry, Y/N. I recognise that I don't deserve your forgiveness but I want you to know how regretful I am to let you go by letting myself go. I was wrong in a lot of aspects and I should have listened to you instead of being stubborn." Oh shit, he was admitting to being wrong.

"Eddie..." My love. "I forgive you. And I missed you too." You didn't expect your voice to crack. "I deny it to myself, but every waking moment I yearn for you and sometimes I'd see you at the corner of my eye and mistake strangers as you... I wanted to crawl back to you and beg you to take me back, but I was scared of getting hurt again—" Fuck, here comes the waterworks.

"Shh, hey," his hand reaches to cup your face, thumb gently running under your eye to swipe the tear away. "I'm sorry that I made you feel that way... I promise to be better."

You reach for the hand that caressed you, lacing your fingers between his and placing a kiss on his palm. "You promise?"

"I'm a man of my word." He doesn't know what he said wrong, that you started to laugh through tears. "What's funny?" He asks with a slight chuckle.

"This whole thing... It's so foolish."

"Why do you think that?"

"The fact that we're only getting back together after the worst thing has happened to us."

"That doesn't sound foolish to me. It's love."

"Well then, love is foolish."

Edward smiles, relieved that you were finally by his side again. He stops the car over the edge of a cliff, the ray of sunrise peaking from the horizon. He looks at you with sunset eyes, and leans forward. You meet him in the middle, automatically melting into his warmth. He couldn't bare to pull away even if the kiss was over, his forehead pressed against yours.

"Then I suppose we're both fools." With every word, his lips touched yours, before diving in for another kiss.

[amporella]

although on a more serious note i hate it when ppl say that kyle blew up canada because he was jealous of heidi bc i personally believe that:

he didn't blow up canada because of jealousy. he didn't go "guess ill blow up canada" after heidi decided to date cartman. the heidi situation might have contributed to it, but they fail to recognize that he was socially outcasted by his peers. for reasons kyle thought were unreasonable, and to be fr kinda were. and kyle, similar to in 'south park is gay', when he feels as though he's been isolated for something he feels unreasonable, he ends up wanting to 'prove everyone wrong', or avenge himself. he obviously also starts thinking negatively of his peers that have isolated him and of things he associates with them. he tries to find things to blame for how they treated him, so it'll be the thing he gets revenge on or something. in that case it was terrance and philip. one thing leads to another and canada gets nuked. was he indirectly involved in it? sure. did he go to the fucking white house to get nuclear codes from garrison then march on over to the goddamn pentagon to do the deed? no! obviously! and it wasn't even his intention in the first place!

does it mean his name is suddenly cleared if wasnt the one to directly do it? probably no, but it certainly can't compare to shit cartman's done, and he definitely didn't do it just because he got jealous that heidi started (read: got manipulated into) dating cartman again, and in the episode 'splatty tomato' he clearly said he no longer had any feelings for heidi at the time, and probably hadn't for a while. his whole relationship with heidi started out as him trying to get her out of what turned into an abusive situation. to see her go back into that situation then turn into a female version of the guy that's been antisemitic to him since what? infant onesies? would probably be very upsetting. in the end he did get over her, and like i said, clearly stated he had no feelings for the person she became.

like the 'kyle blew up canada' comment alone shows they only really did surface level analyzation on kyle's character and while he's done tons of fucked up shit, in terms of intent, the general moral code and policies he has, and his general attitude, he really isn't 'just as bad as cartman'. sure he's far from a 100% goodie two shoes but being on par with cartman? as if. like its not very hard to think through.

ive also seen people who say this kind od thing say they're missing the point of south park (being full of assholes, being offensive, etc. etc.) like no YOUR missing the point of cartman. the point of his character is the he's the assholiest of assholes!!! his character is supposed to embody nearly every bad opinion or belief that exists!! every bigoted thought you could have!!! the worst in people!!! like im not goin to deny that overtime he's started developing lots of depth and grew to become more than just the 'psychopathic child' caricature he started out as, but if you can't even understand the basic purpose that cartman's character has in south park's narrative and its main base and foundation, then like,,, i doubt you oughta be saying that chief. just a thought.

that's it from me, sorry for the ramble!! i just really wanted to share my thoughts on this kind of comment specifically ^^; hope ur doing well!!

RIGHT ON THE MONEY TBH!! (And it's been a while since I've watched that arc, so excuse any errors)

It's beyond insane to accuse Kyle of nuking Canada over something as petty as jealousy alone, and it really shows a fundamental misunderstanding of his character, as well as a fundamental misunderstanding of how external influence can affect someone? Like, I am genuinely concerned about how people can be so out of touch to not understand that Kyle had a million things coming at him at once in that instance - Heidi included (and not even just Heidi dating Cartman, but Heidi, a girl he really liked and felt protective of, making a sharp pivot to antisemitism), but also his friends (as you mentioned) and Mr. Garrison! It's obvious by Kyle's immediate horrified reaction that he didn't realize the implication of his actions; he was used as a pawn by Mr. Garrison to achieve and justify his political goals, and at the end of the day, you're totally right - he wasn't the one who actually did the deed, and imo there is NO way he would have done it himself. He expressed anger that he thought was righteous, and Mr. Garrison took it and ran with it. How is that his fault?

You worded it just as well as I could; it's absolutely laughable to think that Kyle is in any way as bad as Cartman based on one instance that he didn't even directly commit. Cartman does the bad shit he does out of genuine hatred: nobody taunts him over the phone to tell him to do it, and the minorities he hates certainly don't push him to the brink. He just does it because he can, and he wants to. He shows no remorse when he does succeed, and the regret he shows when he doesn't is only that he didn't succeed - not that he regrets any of his actions, at all. Kyle and Cartman are not on the same plane whatsoever.

It requires intentional misinterpretation of literally EVERYTHING Matt and Trey intended about South Park to think that Kyle is as bad as Cartman tbh! In order for South Park to work as a piece of satire, Cartman HAS to be the bad guy and he HAS to have good guys to play off of. Not perfect guys, but good guys. Without the contrast of bad guy vs good guy and Cartman having people who actually care about doing good to attack, South Park would have never survived this long. And even beyond all of that; why the hell would Matt make the character who's essentially his self insert as bad as Cartman? Surely that's enough of evidence that no, that obviously wasn't the intention?

Don't apologize for the ramble!! I think it makes a lot of sense and I totally agree. I hope you're doing well too!!! <3

(and WAJIPFAJFI all's well that ends well I guess?)

[chiefhugo-slade]

"Oh no my dads good mate." Hugo nodded. "He just needed to retire." The man was old but he wasn't the walking dead. Hugo laughed. "He was honestly hanging out most days and doing almost zero work so I've got to make up for all that but I've got it all covered." He could see that Ralphs face was a but uneasy. Never really a personal guy Hugo wasn't going to press it.

"Oh yeah its been gnarly but I wouldn't give up bull riding for anything...." He laughed. "Well that was until I got taken out." He motioned to his leg. "You didn't see i swear it was all over the press mate. Snapped my femur in some freak accident." He shook his head. He knew it wasn't a freak accident...that Fox fucked with his rig and it could have killed him. "Been on the mend for like a little over a year...So it all works out that I'm back here."

It wasn't the end for him though..." Swynlake isnt the end....I've got some stuff goin on back on the ranch here that will take me far. You should come by soon...check it out." Hugo know that Ralph would be a good guy to have in the mix. At least the old Ralph...but he doubted his friend had changed that much.

"Travel eh? Nothing wrong with that! Good on ya for getting out there." Hugo shifted his weight a bit. "You find any favorite places or anything? Any girls out there? Everyone talks about the American girls being a catch...no thanks!" @ralph-wreckin-reilly

bulletin board activity | open

[shootybangbang]

Can i request an Arthur/sadistic female reader please？i really want to see him all messed up because of...you know🥺

(btw, pls check out the requester's art. her arthur content is 😩👌)

[Oneshot]: In which you still don't know how to tie an overhand knot

[Rating]: Explicit

[Note]: this is so fucking horny that i feel i have to apologize in advance. unedited and a little rough around the edges, feel free to point out errors or give criticism

———

“Huh,” you muse aloud. “Looks like the gallery’s putting up a new exhibition this weekend.”

With one hand, you spread the newspaper across the bed and skip to page three. With the other, you continue to stroke Arthur’s cock, twisting your wrist a little to smooth your palm against its dripping tip. The man himself groans as you touch him, and the frame of his body trembles beneath where you’ve straddled yourself over his thighs.

His breaths are quickening again. “Please,” Arthur rasps, his voice hoarse with exertion and desperation alike. You indulge him with another slow, teasing pump of your fist as you continue to pick through the St Denis Tribune, humming thoughtfully as you peruse the newspaper’s Arts and Entertainment section.

“I’m beggin’ you, girl.” He sounds as though he’s teetering on the very edge of agony and ecstasy, and venturing perilously close to the latter. “C’mon. Please.”

“Looks like it’s mostly Impressionists this time. Let’s see here… a selection of Seurats and Monets… a couple Renoirs… oh, some Degas too?” With a mild expression that belies the depth of torture you’ve been putting him through, you slow your hand to a stop. He makes a choked, unhappy noise in the back of his throat that you heartily ignore. “That’s pretty bold of them, considering the reception they gave that Chatenay fellow you told me about.”

Growling, Arthur starts fumbling with the (admittedly badly tied) restraints securing his arms behind his back, twisting his wrists in an attempt to find a loose end.

“Easy there.” You run the pad of your thumb along the ridge delineating the head of his cock, slicking against the precum beaded at its tip. “I’ll give you what you want soon enough.”

“Been hearin’ you say that for almost half an hour now,” he replies, glaring. “You enjoyin’ yourself?”

“Immensely.”

“Better savor it while you can, because I promise you — I’m gonna remember this the next time I get you beneath me.”

You laugh. “Oh yeah? What‘re you gonna do then?”

“Untie me and I’ll show you,” he says.

“No,” you reply with a beatific smile.

He narrows his eyes and lowers his voice to something smooth and dangerous: the sort of tone you’ve known him to use for threats he actually intends to follow through on. “When it’s my turn,” he says. “I ain’t gonna tie you up. Won’t need to. Because with you, all I need is my hands.”

A shiver runs down your spine. The man’s wrists may be bound, but you’re still very much at his mercy. In all actuality, your authority here amounts to only a length of rope and his own good humor.

You let out a soft, involuntary whimper at the very thought of it.

“Gonna pin you down when I fuck you,” he continues. He’s smirking now, clearly enjoying the demonstrable effect his words have on you. “Lay you down on your stomach and keep you under me, where you belong.”

You’re half-tempted to loose the rope and let him do just that. Instead, you grab the hem of your shift with both hands and pull the garment over your head in a single fluid motion. It’s 1899, after all. High time for a woman to take charge of her own pleasure.

The dim glow of the oil lamp bathes your bare skin in a wash of gold and amber as you settle yourself against him, pressing the wet line of your slit along the length of his cock. “Go on,” you tell him. “What else?”

Arthur swallows hard and licks his lips, then draws in a sharp intake of breath as you roll your hips forward — just a brief stir of movement, but more than enough to make him twitch beneath you. “Drive you to the brink the same way you’re doin’ to me now,” he says weakly. “Take my time with you, nice and slow. Make you really beg for it.”

“Mm-hmm.” Another roll of your hips, this time with just enough pressure to grant him a touch of warmth.

Finally, he breaks. And it’s truly a sight to behold: Arthur Morgan, a man who you’d thought would break your spine like a toothpick the first time you’d met, openly begging for the simple privilege of being allowed between your thighs.

“God, please,” he groans. “You can’t do this to me. Can’t let me feel how wet you are and just leave me like this.”

“Of course I can.” You relent. “But I won’t. So be a good boy and stay still for me, alright?”

His cock weighs heavy in your hand as you guide him between your thighs. Arthur lets out a harsh gasp and instinctively thrusts upwards — but you immediately withdraw, and he finds nothing but the cruel emptiness of absence waiting to receive him.

“Thought I told you to stay still,” you repeat sternly.

He nods with the frantic desperation of a badly-trained dog begging for a meal. Hungry and eager, but standing to attention with as much obedience he can muster. Which isn’t much, even on the best of days, but he is trying. And for that, he deserves something in return.

You take him in slowly, both out of principle and necessity. Just a taste of him first, then the gradual descent, a long and drawn out consumption that he has barely the means to endure.

His gaze still hasn’t left you. There is an intensity in it that once might have frightened you, an azure bright as broken glass and twice as sharp. The purity of emotion in them strikes you to the bone, makes your throat tighten and your dominance waver — there is a depth of devotion there that borders on the absolute.

When you move against him, he squeezes his eyes shut against the sheer force of sensation that floods through. Arthur makes a low, pained noise in the back of his throat and confesses, “I ain’t gonna last long.”

You lean forward and kiss him, then start a slow, rocking motion with your hips that spurs him to whimper your name against your lips, a small cry of warning before you feel the first twitches of his cock. Arthur bucks up once, twice, then shudders beneath you as his seed pulses deep, blooms hot and slick inside your core.

“Goddammit,” he hisses. “Didn’t think I’d— ah, fuck…”

You ride on, grinding through the last, weakening throbs of his orgasm and until he lets out a final, heavy sigh. Arthur regards you with loose-limbed exhaustion, lolling his head against your pillows as he flashes you a drained, weary grin. “Alright,” he says. “Untie me and get up here so I can—”

“No need,” you say brightly, then lift your hips in a brief mockery of release before sheathing him again and sending him reeling into oversensitivity.

Arthur’s eyes roll back in his head. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he gasps, wincing. “What’re you—”

“Too much?”

“Didn’t say that,” he says. His jaw is clenched tight and his voice is faint, but the look on his face is one of stubborn determination.

You test him with another slow, sinuous slide of your hips. This time, he meets you with a shallow thrust of his own. He’s breathing hard, each exhale shivery with exertion. “Keep goin’,” he urges. “I can take it.”

The added lubrication of his come eases the friction of him, soothes the inevitable ache of penetration. You settle for an unhurried, leisurely rhythm that allows you to fully appreciate the slickness of each stroke, the accompanying warmth of his seed still spread through your core.

Arthur’s gaze darts downwards to the base of his shaft, where the drip of his come has begun to pool. “Beautiful,” he murmurs. “Just beautiful.”

He snakes his right arm free from his bonds and abruptly flips you onto your back with a well-timed shove.

“What— how did you…?”

“Sweetheart,” Arthur says, his voice warm and affectionately condescending. “You still can’t tie an overhand knot for shit.”

“But I double-checked this time!”

“Not very well, apparently.” He hitches your thighs around his waist and cages you in beneath him, then lowers his mouth to the slope of your neck. A brief, gentle nip — not hard enough to hurt, but more than enough to convey his renewed authority. “God, but you’re a greedy little thing, ain’t you?” he growls against your skin. “Just one load of my spend ain’t enough?”

“Thought you’d appreciate the challenge, since you’re always so— oh, shit,” you gasp, clutching at his shoulders when he drives himself downwards with a sharp, savage thrust.

“Go on.” Arthur says. He’s panting now, his dark blond hair slicked against his forehead with sweat. “Weren’t you sayin’ somethin’ about me?”

You let out an indecipherable whine that bears only a passing resemblance to human language.

“My poor girl,” he murmurs, low and tender. Arthur cups the side of your face against his palm and traces his thumb over your cheekbone, then presses a chaste kiss to your brow. “Can’t even talk right when I’m fucking her proper.”

He’ll no doubt be insufferably smug about this later, but you can’t quite bring yourself to care, distracted as you are by the view of him rutting against you, his shaft still streaked with his previous release. He’s fucking his own come back into me, you think to yourself, and that thought alone blinds out all else and leaves you blank with pleasure.

Arthur takes you hard and fast. Far rougher than his usual handling, which can sometimes be almost excruciatingly cautious. He kisses you clumsily, then lowers his mouth to the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting until the first, faint traces of tomorrow’s bruises begin to darken.

And with this, it’s not long before the first delirious ripples of your own orgasm begin to crest.

Every muscle drawn and tensed, dissolving into an inward ache of arousal that spurs you to grip him tight and whimper, eyelids fluttering as you struggle to keep his face in view. With a fierce satisfaction, you savor the sudden weakness in his expression when he feels you contract against him, then his harsh groan and the stutter of his hips as he follows, spilling what seed he has left.

Arthur keeps himself hilted until the very last shivers of exhilaration fade, then pulls away with a reluctance usually reserved for long farewells. The overflow of his come is thick and heavy as it drips from between your thighs, and the look on his face as he beholds it is one of tired appreciation.

Then he flops onto his side, totally spent. “You’re a real demon,” he sighs. “You know that?”

“A real demon would go for round three,” you reply faintly, staring dreamy-eyed up at the ceiling.

Arthur groans at the mere suggestion of it. “I think that’d actually kill me.”

When you curl up against him, he automatically throws an arm over your side, the action at this point an instinct secondary only to breathing, and brushes his mouth over the back of your neck.

As you ebb towards sleep, you murmur as an afterthought, “Didn’t you say you were gonna make me beg?”

He lets out a weary chuckle. “Well,” he says, “There’s always tomorrow.”

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 26: Illusions (Dance)

AO3

Prev

Marinette quickly decides she hates the punishment. The grounding. It sucks not being allowed to go on patrol with her family. Luckily, Adrien came back to Paris the day after she was grounded, so she didn’t have to take any of her family to Paris. Which she was thankful for, because as much as she loved them, she also doubted they’d be able to control their emotions long enough. 

“Hey kiddo, we’re about to head out to patrol. Do you need anything?” Dick asks, sticking his head into her room. He’d been extremely nice since she got benched, not that he was ever anything but nice. But he’d also been acting like another dad, checking in on her, making dad jokes, the works. It helped since her own dad was currently still mad at her for blocking him from Paris. 

“To patrol with you guys.” She says with a hopeful smile. Dick sighs, shaking his head. 

“You know I can’t do that Mari. B’s the one who has to say you’re allowed back. I’m sorry kid.” Dick says. Marinette frowns. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just stay here and draw or something.” She says, flopping back down on her bed. She can tell Dick hesitates, as if he wants to say something else, but then he’s gone. And she’s alone. Again. 

“Marinette, are you okay?” Tikki asks, flying over and landing next to her head. 

“It’s been four days, Tikki. Four days. How much longer is he gonna have me benched? If the akuma was bad, I would’ve brought in Kagami or Luka.” She rambles, covering her face with her hands. She was restless, which was making her anxious. She wanted to do something. She didn’t want to be stuck at home. And sure, she could train in the gym here, but her mind wouldn’t be in it. She’d be worried about her family the whole time. 

“Well...maybe it’s time for you to be ungrounded.” Tikki says slowly. Marinette pulls her hands from her face and blinks at her friend. 

“Are you...are you ungrounding me?” She asks. Because yes, her dad had grounded her. But Tikki had agreed with the punishment. And while sneaking around the world’s greatest detective would be hard, she was willing to do it. Going against the goddess of creation? Not so much. 

“If you bring Trixx, you’ll be able to be invisible when you’re around your family.” Tikki suggests and Marinette grins. 

“Plagg’s rubbing off on you, isn’t he?” She teases. Tikki huffs. 

“Not at all. I just don’t like seeing you upset, Marinette.” She says and Marinette smiles. 

“Thank you, Tikki.” She says, going over to the Miracle Box and pulling out Trixx’ necklace. She puts it on and grins at the small fox. 

“Hiya Guardian! What’s goin’ on?” Trixx asks with a wide smile. 

“Tikki suggested I bring you on patrol so I can be invisible. Whaddya say Trixx, ready to cause some mischief?” Marinette asks. Trixx smirks. 

“Obviously!” He cheers. Marinette grins. Let the fun begin.

---

Marinette sticks close to her family, using Mirage to make herself invisible. It was weird, following her family and not being able to hear them (she hadn’t wanted to take a comm in case she messed up and talked, she’d be in real trouble then). But it was also funny, watching her dad tense if she got too close. He could definitely tell that something funny was going on, but she was determined to not let him figure her out. The beeping from Trixx’ necklace makes her huff. She’d have to go hide and recharge, but it was fine. Trixx had already told her that he was having fun messing with her family, so she knew he’d be willing to keep going for a little while longer. Dashing behind one of the air conditioning units on the roof, she lets Trixx’ Mirage drop, passing him a handful of berries. 

“Take your time Trixx, they won’t get far.” Marinette reassures him, smiling at him as he grabs the berries from her. She leans up against the unit, taking a minute to just relax. 

“Well, well, well. Looks like the little bug strayed from her birds.” A familiar voice drawls out. Marinette stiffens, not turning. 

“Trixx, go. Find the others.” She commands, ripping the necklace off and passing it to Trixx. He immediately zips away and she whirls around, just in time to jump back and avoid the sword coming at her. 

“You have more than one Miraculous? How interesting. You know, Damian stopped us from talking last time. I’d love to...chat.” Slade says, pulling his sword back. She can’t see his face, but she can hear the smirk in his voice. Marinette grits her teeth, remembering the last time she’d seen the man. The scar she had on her shoulder. 

“I’d rather not. No offense, but you don’t seem like a great conversationalist.” She snarks, her entire body tense as she stays poised to fight. She glances around, trying to find an escape route that would get her as far away from him as possible. And quick.

“You’re not actually thinking of running, are you? You have no backup. I’ve been watching the Bats tonight. No one knows you’re even here.” He says, stepping closer so that he’s almost blocked her in. She feels her breathing quicken as she starts to panic slightly. She’d only escaped last time because of her family. They’d fought him off after he got ahold of her. He’s far stronger than her, she has to stay out of his reach. She takes a deep breath, staring the man down and schooling her features into a neutral mask. She refused to give him the satisfaction of seeing her distressed. 

“I never run from a fight.” She lies, throwing her yoyo out to wrap around the handle of the man’s sword, tugging as she throws her weight to his left. The clanking of the sword as it bounces off the roof makes her grin, and she quickly tugs the yoyo, grabbing the sword by its handle and twirling it around slightly, planting her feet in her new position. She’d managed to move so that she was no longer blocked between Slade and the air conditioning unit. 

“Oh sweetheart, you can’t possibly beat me.” He says, shaking his head as he walks towards her, pulling his second sword off his back. 

“Don’t underestimate me.” She snaps, holding up the sword and preparing herself to fight back. He sighs, as if he’s disappointed in her, before lunging forward, bringing his sword up for an attack. She holds up her own sword, blocking his strike. It was much different than the fencing foil she’d used a few times back in Paris, much heavier. She grits her teeth as he pushes down with the sword, obviously trying to overpower her. She holds for another moment before jumping back, jerking her sword away. The sudden change in force makes him stumble forwards and let out a growl. He continues to lunge towards her as she dances back and forth, trying to avoid fighting him too much. He’d definitely overpower her if she let him get too close. 

“I’d rather do this the easy way, darling, but if you’re really going to make me do this the hard way we can.” He threatens, twirling the sword around before charging her again. She let out a gasp, jumping back again, her foot slipping as she was much closer to the edge of the roof than she expected. She falls, managing to grab the roof with her open hand, the sword now dangling at her side. She had two options. She could let go of the sword and use her yoyo to swing away, or she could try and let go of the roof and shoot out her yoyo quick enough to avoid splatting on the ground. She quickly makes her decision, dropping the sword into the dumpster below her and yanking out her yoyo to attempt to swing away. 

“No!” She yells, as Slade grabs her hand from the roof, tugging her towards him before she can swing away. She struggles against him, kicking at him, throwing her elbows around wildly. She had to get out of his hold. 

“Did you really think that would work?” He asks, as he pins her to chest. She continues struggling in his grasp, not willing to give up yet.

“Thought I’d try it.” She huffs. 

“Sure you did sweetheart. Now, I’ll be taking these.” Slade says, reaching for her earrings. He touches them and hisses in pain, Marinette also hissing in shock. They’d heated up when he grabbed them, almost like they were trying to burn him. Unfortunately for Marinette, they were still on her ears. Which meant she also got burned. 

“What the hell was that?” He hisses, whirling her around to face her, continuing to hold her arms down. She continues to struggle while glaring at the man. 

“Apparently the earrings don’t want you either.” She snaps. 

“Guess I’ll just have to take you with me.” He says and her eyes widen in panic. No. Nope. Not a secondary location, she’d watched enough true crime shows and listened to Tim rant about cold cases enough to know what a secondary location meant. It meant death. And she was not about to die again, especially not somewhere she couldn’t use the Cure. A hard blow to the back of her head makes her vision go black as she quickly slips into unconsciousness. 

---

Dick Grayson was not expecting to see a tiny floating fox on patrol. He was definitely not expecting said tiny fox to be carrying a necklace and rambling worriedly.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down buddy. What’s wrong?” Dick asks, smiling at them. They were similar to Plagg, the tiny floating black cat that had hung around the day Marinette was a toddler. 

“It’s the Guardian! She needs help. A man with a mask and swords found her and she doesn’t have any backup.” They ramble, a terrified look on their face. Dick frowns. 

“Who?” He asks, not quite sure why the fox has chosen him. 

“Marinette!” They cry, and Dick freezes. “Tikki told her she could be ungrounded and so we were following you guys, but then she had to stop and the man found her. Please, help her!” 

“Lead the way.” He says, whirling on his heel and following the little creature as it zips through the city. He follows them all the way to a roof, frowning when the fox pauses and looks around, clear panic on their face. 

“They were here. She was here.” They mumble, twisting in circles and looking around. They start zipping forward again, and Dick has to rush to follow. Hopefully they’d spotted Marinette. And whoever the guy was. As he follows the fox, he frowns when he spots a figure carrying something over their shoulder. Something limp- He pushes forward, going faster than the fox as he attempts to catch up. The second the figure lands on a roof, he whips out his escrima sticks, whacking the man across the back of his legs. The man stumbles, spinning around and glaring at Dick. 

“Nightwing, wasn’t expecting to see you.” Slade growls. Dick narrows his eyes. 

“Drop the girl, Slade.” He demands. Slade lets out a humorless laugh. 

“I’ve been trying to get to her for weeks, do you really think I’m going to let go of her that easily?” He asks. 

“I think if you know what’s good for you, you’ll set her down and get the hell out of Gotham.” Dick says. 

“Nightwing, who is it?” Damian’s voice rings through the comm. Dick’s relieved that he was on the duo’s channel rather than the group channel. If he could get Marinette home before B noticed, maybe his baby sister wouldn’t get in more trouble. 

“I don’t think you understand the importance of her earrings.” Slade counters, obviously preparing to fight his way out. 

“I don’t care how important you think they are, Slade. Put her down and get out of the city.” He says, watching the older man’s body language to try and anticipate the attack. He hears Damian curse in his ear, and he resists the urge to reprimand him. 

“How about no.” Slade quips, tossing Marinette to the side of the roof and charging at him in one fluid motion. Dick sees red as he watches Marinette get tossed aside so carelessly, her head bouncing off the roof. He uses one of his escrima sticks to counter the blows from the other man’s sword, using his other to whack the man’s shoulder. The two circle each other, each taking turns to start the attack. Slade may be motivated by his want for the earrings, but Dick was fighting for his sister. Losing wasn’t an option for Dick, not when one of his siblings was in danger. 

“I believe Nightwing told you to leave.” Damian calls, bursting into the fight. Slade turns back towards Marinette, and just as Dick’s about to lunge for him- she disappears. Completely. Gone from sight. He begins to panic slightly. Where did she go? What happened to her? The cry from Slade breaks his concentration from where his sister just disappeared into thin air. He glances back at the man, unsurprised to see Damian’s sword through the older man’s side. As much as he wants to see Slade suffer, he knows Damian would be in trouble later if he actually killed the older man. “Robin.” Dick calls, hoping to ground his little brother before he did something he would regret. Damian scowls, stepping away from Slade. Dick turns his attention to the man, who was now disarmed and bleeding profusely. Not much of a threat. “Get the hell out of this city. Don’t let us see you here again Slade.” He snaps, unsurprised as the man turns and rushes away. The man was a coward. His biggest enemy was a twelve year old boy who had done nothing but be born. Gritting his teeth, Dick takes a deep breath. No need to let his anger get the best of him. He immediately starts to panic when he remembers Marinette disappearing. Just as he’s about to call it in, her limp form shimmers back into view. He rushes over to her, glancing momentarily at the floating fox next to her. 

“I can do mirages. Hopefully I controlled it enough not to make chaos anywhere, but-” They stop, glancing at Marinette. “But I had to do something.”

“Thank you.” Dick says softly, picking up Marinette and holding her close to his chest. 

“Should I alert Father?” Damian asks. Dick turns to look at him, noticing how tense the younger boy looks. He weighs his options. He could take her back to the manor and let her get into even more trouble with Bruce. Or, he could take her to his apartment and try to convince Bruce that she’d been there all night. 

“Let’s not. She’ll just be benched for even longer, and obviously trying to keep her from patrols isn’t going to end well for us.” Dick says, frowning at her limp form. Damian tenses, but nods. “I will continue patrol while you take her to a safe location. I expect an update once she is awake. You should stay with her, Slade has obviously become obsessed with her.” Damian says, and Dick nods.

“Thank you, Robin. I know you don’t like going against him, but…..” Dick trails off, looking at Marinette and how tiny she looked right now. Damian nods. 

“She’s family as well. I did not agree with her punishment, I will not aid in it being lengthened.” He says before swinging away. Dick just smiles softly, shaking his head at his youngest brother. That was probably as close as he’d get to admitting he loved Marinette. But it was clear, in his actions, that he did care about her. Just as he cared about their other brothers, no matter how much he denied it. Sighing, Dick adjusts Marinette in his arms before grappling towards his apartment. This was going to be a long night. 

---

Marinette wakes up and immediately groans at the light in the room. Almost immediately, the light disappears, as if someone flipped a switch. 

“Hey kiddo.” A soft voice says. She sits up and winces, holding a hand against her head. She blinks, her eyes adjusting as she glances around the unfamiliar space. 

“Dick?” She says, confused. Where were they? What happened?

“You’re okay kid, we’re at my apartment. It’s where I live when Kori and Mari are in town. Slade got you, almost got away with you too. But your little fox friend found me and I was able to get there in time. Try and drink a little water, I need to call Damian and let him know you’re awake.” He says and she starts to panic. Did their dad also know? Was she in more trouble? Was- “Marinette, you gotta breathe. Damian and I are the only ones who know you snuck out. Neither of us wanna tell B, cause then you’d just be sneaking on patrol even longer and that’s dangerous. But I’m not gonna lecture you right now. So just take a breath. That’s it kid, you’re okay.” He soothes, breathing with her for several counts. She nods once she’s calmed down, and he grins at her before walking away to make the call. She picks up the water, sipping on it and trying to ignore the pounding in her head. Instead, she glances around the apartment, smiling softly at the pictures. She’d found out about her sister in law and niece not that long ago. They were apparently off planet right now, but she had hope that they would be back before the summer was over so she could meet them. A sudden wave of nausea hits her and she groans, laying back against the couch. She huffs in frustration when she realizes she likely has a concussion.

“When I said you were ungrounded, I didn’t mean for you to fight the man that stabbed you on your first trip to Gotham.” Tikki complains, flying up and staring straight into her eyes. Marinette groans, squeezing her eyes shut and pouting. 

“I didn’t mean to.” She reminds the Kwami, opening an eye to peek at her. 

“Didn’t mean to.” She mumbles before letting out an uncharacteristic huff. “Next time tell one of your brothers, please Marinette. Even if you’re sneaking out. I’m sure they could figure out a way to be in communication with you without letting your dad know. It would make me feel better knowing that you have backup from the start.” Tikki says, her worry clear on her small face. 

“I will, don’t worry Tikki.” Marinette says with a sigh. She could hold her own against a normal criminal, or an akumatized villain. But it wasn’t easy fighting against a man more than twice her size who was obviously highly trained. 

“B thinks you came over here before patrol, so your cover is safe.” Dick says, walking back into the living room. Marinette smiles weakly at him, fully expecting a lecture now that he’s off the phone. Dick sits on the arm of the chair next to the couch, looking at her worriedly. “Think you have a concussion?” He asks. She blinks, but nods slowly. He walks away and comes back a moment later with some painkillers, passing them to her. She takes them, hoping that they’ll start working sooner than later as the dull pounding in her head has escalated since waking up. 

“Are you gonna yell at me?” She asks quietly, not looking at him. 

“No, Marinette, I’m not gonna yell at you.” He says, and she looks at him, frowning. 

“Why? I knew I was benched. And I still went out, and I didn’t tell anyone.” She says, confused as to why he wasn’t yelling. Her dad hadn’t yelled at her after she got stabbed, just flat out refused to let her patrol. But he’d yelled at her after the Watchtower thing. And the stealing the Batmobile thing. And the whole keeping him from getting to Paris thing. And the fighting an akuma alone thing. 

“You know that you messed up, why would I yell at you? You know, and now next time, you’ll do it differently. You’ll be better and learn from this mistake. I’m not gonna yell at you for secretly going on patrol ‘cause I’d be a hypocrite. Was I scared to death when I realized the limp thing on Slade’s shoulder was you? Yes. God, yes, I was terrified. But you’re here and you’re fine. So instead of yelling, you’re gonna stay here tonight and I’m gonna make sure I don’t need to take you to Alfred for the concussion.” Dick says with a small smile. Marinette smiles at her brother, relieved. 

“Are you gonna tell dad?” She asks. Even though he doesn’t know yet, she knows that there’s still a chance of Dick telling him. 

“No, but can you do something for me?” He asks. She nods. “Next time you wanna sneak out without B knowing, could you tell me or Jay? Please? Just so we know to check in on you. We’re not gonna follow you or anything, but it’d be nice to know that one of us needs to check in and make sure you’re okay.” He says. She quirks an eyebrow in surprise. He wasn’t going to follow her?

“Really?” She asks, he nods. 

“I know that sometimes you just need a break. Trust me, I get it. I understand that B can be….overbearing.” Dick says with a sigh. Marinette nods in agreement, sitting back slightly and letting out a yawn. Just as her eyes are about to close, there’s a snap in front of her face. 

“What?” She groans, frowning at her brother. 

“Can’t go to sleep yet kiddo. You clearly have a concussion, so I’m gonna need you to stay awake for a couple hours just to make sure your symptoms stay on the mild side.” He says. She frowns and is about to argue when the front door opens. Dick immediately jumps up and stands in front of her, but relaxes almost as quickly. 

“Daddy!” The little girl, who Marinette realizes must be Mar’i, squeals, flying straight at Dick. Marinette blinks. Her niece could fly. That’s awesome! But would definitely throw a new challenge in when she babysits the girl. 

“Who is this?” The woman, who was taller than Dick and drop dead gorgeous, asks, a small smile on her face. Marinette grins, waving from the couch. 

“Hey, I’m Marinette. Dick’s newest sister.” She says. The woman, Kori, sighs, a smile on her face as she shakes her head. 

“He adopted another?” She asks Dick. He snorts, shaking his head as he holds his daughter close. 

“Nope, she’s his actual daughter. Little D took it surprisingly well.” Dick says. 

“So she’s my aunt?” Mar’i asks, peeking over Dick’s shoulder. 

“Yup! I’m so glad to finally meet you Mar’i.” Marinette says with a small smile, dizziness hitting her again randomly. She shuts her eyes, trying to ground herself. 

“Oh, nope, sorry honey. Aunt Marinette has a bit of a headache right now, you’ll have to be easy with her.” She hears Dick say, probably stopping Mar’i from launching herself at her. 

“Can we play ballerina?” Mar’i asks, and Marinette forces herself to open her eyes and look at the girl. Her heart melts at the little pout on the girl’s face and Marinette already knows that this girl is going to have her wrapped around her finger, just like Manon. 

“Sweetie-” Dick starts, but Marinette cuts him off. 

“Why don’t you show me your ballerina moves tonight, and then tomorrow once I’m feeling better, we can play ballerina together?” She suggests, grinning at the look on her niece’s face. 

“Yes, yes, yes!” She squeals, launching herself from Dick’s arms and flying to a different room. 

“Marinette-” Dick starts with a sigh, an unimpressed look on his face. 

“I’ll help her.” Tikki speaks up, flying to be eye level with Dick. “I can’t heal her completely, but I can heal her partially just as I did when Slade stabbed her. But I do have to warn you, if he tries to hurt my Bug again, I will let him see that there is a fate worse than death.” Marinette blinks in surprise at the complete and total rage radiating from her usual cheery friend. She watches as Dick nods in agreement. 

“Better you than me. Bruce can’t yell at you.” He says in an even tone. Marinette’s jaw drops. That was...surprisingly violent for her usually cheery brother. Before she can question him, Mar’i flies back into the room in a pale pink tutu. 

“Ready to see my dances?” She asks, grinning widely. Marinette nods, settling in to spend some time with her newest family members, plans of a new ballet outfit for Mar’i already dancing through her head.

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