#Bush Flash Records

[donospl]

Europe Jazz Media Chart - Sierpień2024

Wybór nowości muzycznych, dokonany przez grupę czołowych europejskich magazynów i witryn jazzowych. A selection of the hot new music surfacing across the continent by the top European jazz magazines and websites. Gadt / Grzywacz / Kordiak / Zagajewska Voiceact (Fundacja Słuchaj) Krzysztof Komorek, Donos kulturalny, Polska Mateusz Smoczyński Adam’s Apple (Warner Music Poland) Paweł Brodowski,…

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 9: The Harassment

His children are already waiting for him the moment he and Alfred walk in the door, no doubt aware of everything that’s happened concerning him and their brother.

As expected, his reunion with you had been posted on the internet and every major news outlet has been talking about it ever since, especially the Gotham Gazette and the Daily Planet. Fuel was added to the fire this morning when he met you at the airport after Lex dropped you off and tried to get to agree to talk to him, you yelled so hard that the entire airport stopped to watch you tear into him, only stoping when security stepped in.

He ignored all the stares as he watched your plane take off for Nevada, far away from your family and home. And he was greeted by a crowd of reporters when he returned to Gotham, all of them flashing their cameras and shouting questions over one another.

He did his best to hide his hurt when many of them asked why were you not present for any of the family functions or galas over the past twelve years.

He wanted to say he was protecting you from the limelight; that you had just lost your mother and the last thing you needed was to be bombarded by those parasites who feed on misery to turn a quick buck, but of all the lies he’s forced himself to say, that would be one lie he couldn’t force out of his mouth, opting instead to vomit everything he has in his guts.

Because he knows the truth: he neglected you. No amount of beating around the bush could eve change the fact that he’s never had a genuine conversation with you. From the moment you arrived at his home, you were ignored because he was too busy wallowing in his own suffering that he couldn’t see you were suffering, too.

Plus, there was no doubt in his mind that if he did say that, it would get back to you and you’d be more than glad to set the record straight.

“That video of you and Y/N’s already gone viral,” Tim says, not looking up from his phone. “It had over a million views in just ten minutes. Now, it’s nearing a billion.”

He suppresses a sigh. Of course a video of playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne getting his ass handed to him by his previously unknown firstborn biological son would go viral.

“I could scrub it, if you want,” Tim adds.

If anyone could absolutely scrub a video from the internet and condemn it to the void, Tim absolutely could. But, as much as he wants that video of you tearing into him gone forever, the memory of it would live on in his memory for the rest of his life; the hatred and pain in your eyes haunts him every time he closes his eyes.

Also, at this rate, there’s no closing this Pandora’s Box. The world knows you’re his son and that he obviously wronged you. People aren’t going to forget that anytime soon.

Since last night, he’s monitored the Gould Games Pixtagraph page and before his reunion with him, you were sitting at following of a couple tens of thousands, but after last night, your following jumped up to several millions, your studio is tagged in countless reposts of that damn video, and so many people are asking you to explain your relationship with him.

So far, you’ve yet to say anything about your time living with them. On one hand, he’s glad you haven’t responded as it gives them time to do damage control and plan their next move concerning you, but on the other hand, he’s hurt because you don’t deem him worth your time to badmouth him on the internet.

“It’s fine, Tim,” he responds, ruffling his son’s hair as he walks towards the living room, Alfred and his children following behind.

The moment he walks in, his eyes immediately go to the family portrait sitting on the wall above the mantle, a family portrait that doesn’t include you. Before he got his head out of his ass, every time he looked at the painting, it filled him with pride and a sense that despite all his failings, he had done the best he could for his children and created a family that he’s proud of.

Now? That portrait is a constant reminder of how much he’s failed you. He can remember the day he had the portrait commissioned (a few months after Damian moved in with them and when Bruce was sure he wouldn’t attack the artist), he had fought all morning to have his kids dressed in their formal clothing and to behave before the artist arrived. Hell, he can remember the artist asking if this was everyone, he had said all members of the family were here.

While they were downstairs, having a family portrait made, you were alone and upstairs in a room not fit for any human to stay in.

How many times had you looked at this portrait and thought it was proof you weren’t a part of this family and no one even remembered you.

He wants to take it down right now and burn it, but that won’t get rid of his guilt. Nothing will change the fact that he had commissioned this portrait and you were left out, that he cared so little about you back then that you didn’t even cross his mind when he was corralling everyone to the living room the day it was made.

Fuck, he just wants to tear out his own heart just thinking about what you must’ve thought of them over the years.

Well, as soon as you come home, he’ll have that same artist paint a new portrait; one with all of them surrounding you and looking at you with nothing but love in their gazes.

“Based on the video, last night didn’t go well,” Jason asks with a hint of sarcasm, but Bruce hears the hurt and guilt in his voice.

He opens his mouth to respond, but closes it, unable to trust himself not to break down, the last thing his family needs.

He knows that his behavior was unacceptable and that he has no right to ask you to leave a place you clearly love to come back to the house that caused you so much pain and sadness over the years.

But now that he knows his mistakes, all he wants is for you to come home so he can shower you in the love he should’ve shown you. To make you a part of his family as is your birthright. To show you off to Gotham’s elite in massive galas at the manor and revel in the looks of envy when they realize they can look all they want, but they’ll never get the privilege of speaking or courting you. To display you for the entire world to behold and watch as your family heaps their undying love upon you.

But in order for any of that to happen, they need to find a way to get you speaking to them, something that may prove to be more difficult than crime fighting.

“Master Bruce,” Alfred says, breaking home out of his stupor. “If I may make a suggestion?” Bruce nods, eager to hear the butler’s wise words. “Maybe send one of the children to talk to Master Y/N? I had a feeling that the young man still held animosity towards you, but I never thought he would lash out the way he did last night.”

As much as he hates to admit it, Alfred’s right. You hate him, last night proved that, and you have every right to.

“But who isn’t gonna piss him off,” Steph chimes in, all eyes on her now. “I mean, we all did what Bruce did. What’s saying he won’t do to us what he did to Bruce?”

It seems with each passing day, he feels more and more like a pathetic excuse of a man. It’s one thing for you to be mad at him (god knows he deserves it and he’s definitely not the easiest person to get along with), but for you to hold that same hatred for your siblings as you do him? His family’s falling apart at the seams and he’s powerless to stop it.

His parents are probably so disappointed in him right now.

“I’ll go,” Damian announces. “I’m his blood-brother. No doubt he’ll be more receptive to me than the rest of you.”

“You’re the last person who should go,” Jason mutters. “Let me go. I’ll bring him back.”

He knows Jason will most likely bring you back home by your ankles and as much as he’s tempted to bring you home, forcing your return isn’t the proper way to start the healing process. He’s confident that they could handle any difficulties you gave them, but he wants to keep kidnapping last resort.

“Let me go,” Dick begs. “If there’s anyone who knows how to talk to people in this family, it’s me.”

Unfortunately, Dick’s the only one in this family who knows how to have genuine heart-to-heart talks with anyone, specifically members of their family. As much as he wants to fly over to Nevada and bear his heart out to you, he knows that he’s the last person you want to talk to and him repeatedly approaching you would only make things worse for them.

Also, you need him, but Gotham also needs Batman; bar the usual Arkham escape and petty criminal activity, things have been quiet since Joker’s death, but if he’s gone too long, the city’s criminal element will become more active.

And he needs to make Gotham safe for you when you return home.

“Alright, Dick,” he sighs. “Go. Bring your brother back. Take the jet.”

Dick cheers and his other children roar in outrage, but Bruce leaves them to settle their disagreement themselves.

“How was it, Master Bruce,” Alfred asks as the butler follows him to the Batcave. “To see Master Y/N again after so long?”

“I can’t believe how much he’s changed,” he responds as he walks down the stone staircase.

It’s true, when you stepped on stage to accept your award, he was shocked to see how much you’ve grown; if he tries hard enough, he can vaguely recall what you looked like when you first moved in: a scrawny little boy who looked like hell.

Of course you did back then, you just lost your mother and had been dragged away from your home and everything you’d ever known to live with a man you’d never met before in a city you probably never heard of, so it would make sense. All you wanted back then was your father to hug you and tell you everything would be ok and that you weren’t alone.

But he was too selfish to give you what you needed back then. He deemed his own grief greater than yours, the city’s needs greater than yours. And if it wasn’t bad enough he neglected you, he had to go and replace with you with your siblings.

And if he tries harder, he can recall what you looked like when you were fifteen, which was not long after Damian moved in with them. He can remember an incident involving you, Damian, and some sort of pen. Sure, it was stupid for you to fight Damian over some stupid little pen, but he should’ve listened to you back then. He knew Damian hated you on sight because he felt like you were a threat to the legacy Ra’s and Talia spent years putting in his mind; he should’ve stepped in back then because you had no idea how to defend yourself while Damian was trained by an assassin who’s lived for centuries, but he gave Damian the benefit of the doubt, leaving his younger son to grow out of his assassin upbringing.

The last thing he remembers about that incident was him demanding the pen for Damian and you telling him no. Back then, he was angry at you for defying him, but now, he admires that you did. Even though you were shorter than him and weaker than him, you stood your ground.

As much as you probably hate to hear it, you’re just like him.

And last night, he saw you as a successful, confident young man. He couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw just how much you’d grown (and how he wasn’t a part of your life).

And when you gave that speech?

He’s not ashamed to admit it brought a tear to his eye.

He knows he wronged you, but to know you view your time with him and your siblings hit him like a freight train. And to add insult to injury, the entire world now knows you hate him; hate him enough to lash out at him in public.

His head throbs a bit when he thinks at the amount of damage control he’s gonna have to do to avoid raising too much attention when you come home.

“He’s changed so much,” he sighs as he sits in front of the Batcomputer, his fingers typing away at the keys. “There’s so much I wasn’t there for.”

“Yes, Master Y/N has certainly grown into a fine young man,” Alfred responds. “He takes after his mother.”

That statement makes him pause. You share none of his features, nearly everything coming from your mother; the only thing tying you to him is DNA and his mother’s eyes. As if it wasn’t bad enough you don’t share his last name (he’ll have to look into that when you come home), but if he didn’t know better, he’d never know you were his son.

It also didn’t make him better that Alfred was the one to practically be your father. God knows Alfred raised not only him, but his children, but to know that the wise old butler stepped up to the position he failed to only makes the pit of guilt he’s in even deeper.

He can spend the rest of his life making it up to you and he’ll never even scratch the surface of his transgressions.

As expected, Tim spent the last day gathering every piece of information about you, from your report cards from Goodsprings Elementary to your tax records while you were working during your time in Gotham (and while he’s glad you got out there and found a job you loved, it pained him to know that you had to work while he had more than enough money to give you like he gives your siblings).

He pulls up your medical records (for dozens of doctor’s appointments he wasn’t there for) and sees the last one you had was just before your eighteenth birthday (a major event he didn’t even think of) and according to it, you were in perfect health.

He leans forward as he speed reads it before comparing it to all your other appointments.

“Something unusual, Master Bruce?”

“His medical records,” he answers as he pulls up your records from the day you were born. “I’m looking for any abnormality.”

“Like what?”

“The Meta Gene.”

“What,” Alfred exclaims. “Why would you assume he has the Meta Gene?”

“Last night, when he pushed me. There’s no way he should’ve been able to punch me the way he did. I’m taller and have more weight than he does.”

“That doesn’t necessarily prove anything, Master Bruce.”

He looks Alfred in the eye. “I could tell there was something unusual with his strength, Alfred. And I could tell he was holding back.”

The poor butler looks defeated and Bruce resumes his research.

He’s made his stance on Metas in Gotham known to all: none are allowed to enter and Gotham will be protected only by human strength, determination, and intelligence.

But if you do have the gene, it doesn’t change anything, you’re still his son and your proper place is here, with him, Alfred, and your siblings. He’ll just have to prepare the Cave to hold you.

“There’s no sign of the gene in any of his records, but regular equipment isn’t as thorough as the equipment we have in the cave. We’ll need a fresh sample.”

“That may be easier said than done, Master Bruce. Your son doesn’t even want to give you the time of day, I highly doubt he’ll give you a blood sample. Perhaps you could obtain one from his doctor?”

“Not an option. Look.” He pulls up your last medical record. “The last time he saw a doctor was his eighteenth birthday. There’s no sign of him at any doctor’s office in the last four years.”

“No doctor’s appointments in the last four years? I’m going to have a word with him when he returns.” He gives Bruce a look. “Looks like he did inherit something from you, after all.”

As much as he wishes to know there’s something concrete you got from him, he really hopes it’s not his lack of self care. Of course, there’s plenty of him he hopes you don’t inherit from him, but not taking care of yourself is at the top of the list.

Well, second on his list. His inability to properly care for his family would be on top.

“Hopefully Dick will make some progress.”

To say Dick is both excited and nervous is a gross understatement.

Don’t get him wrong, he’s ecstatic to see you, his baby bird, but he’s so worried about how you’ll react to him.

He knows he wasn’t the best big brother (actually, he wasn’t a brother to you at all), but he knows he screwed up and he wants to make it up to you!

In fact, if you want, the two of you can hang out in Vegas (although someone innocent like you shouldn’t be in a filthy place like that), eating at some of best restaurants there, taking in a few shows, and if you insist, he’ll go with you to a casino (that he’ll choose) and play a few games. After that, the two of you can book a room in the best hotel in Vegas (hopefully you’ll be ok with cuddling with your big brother) and in the morning, you’ll come back to Gotham with him.

He takes in your house as he walks up the driveway. He’s happy to know your grew up in a nice house and your mom provided for you (not many of his siblings had the same luxury) and he loves that he’s getting to see your house with his own eyes, but come on, baby bird, this house is too small for someone like you!

You’re a growing boy and you need something bigger! He knows you make videos games (he played your game and gave it a good review), so you need a place to work, and everyone knows the manor has more rooms than they know what to do with. And do you even have enough space to walk around in your room?

His heart aches when he thinks of that pathetic excuse of a room you were forced to sleep in back at the manor. To know his baby bird was sleeping in a room the size of a walk-in closet while he was practicing his gymnast moves in his room—

“That’s in the past,” he tells himself. “It’s not like that anymore.”

It’s true, Bruce had Alfred get the empty bedroom next to his ready for you, complete with a bed large enough for four people (he can’t wait to have sleepovers with you), a solid oak desk perfect for you to play and work on the new computer they got you, and filled with plushies, posters, and figures from all the video games they know you’re into.

And if there’s something missing from it, he’ll be more than happy to run out and buy it for you!

And if it wasn’t bad enough that the house was too small for you, you lived all alone on the edge of this small town. Come on, baby bird, you need your siblings to keep you company! You must be so lonely living in this house by yourself and no neighbors around.

The family’s already made plans to hang out with you: Bruce has already planned a whole gala for you, Dick plans on taking you to arcades and movie theatres, Jason’s read all your mom’s books and wants to talk about each of them with you, Tim’s called dibs on any and all video game activities with you, Babs wants to bring you to the library and hang out with her and maybe go out for coffee, Steph and Cass want to take you shopping and out to eat at all their favorite restaurants, and Damian has demanded that you go on walks with him every night after dinner and allow him to paint you.

He knows you’ve set up a good life here in your old hometown and he’s so proud of you for going out and making your mark on the world, but you need to come home. You’ll probably be sad on having to leave your childhood home, but your family misses you and the world’s too dangerous for someone like you to be on your own.

You have your family, so you don’t need to work when they can take care of you! And if you want to, you can come down here once or twice a year and check on the place (with one of them accompanying you, of course).

He knocks on your door with his usual playful knock he uses on his other siblings’ doors and waits. When he doesn’t hear any footsteps from the other side, he does it again.

“Y/N,” he calls out. “It’s me.”

He knows you’re home, your car’s in the driveway (Bruce owes you a better car, that one isn’t fit for you) and your phone’s GPS signal is clearly inside.

“Y/N,” he calls out even louder. “I know you’re in there!”

Finally, after forever, the door opens, revealing you; you open the door just enough to stick your head out. He’s blown away by how much you’ve grown; of course he saw the video (you really need to learn violence doesn’t solve anything, baby bird), but it doesn’t compare to seeing you in person. You’ve grown up from that teen boy into a fine looking young man, even if you look like you want to set him on fire right now.

“What the hell are you doing here,” you growl, taking the wind out of his sails just a little bit.

“Is it weird a big brother wants to see his little brother,” he says, flashing you his trademark wide grin.

“You’re not my brother and I don’t want you here.”

Ok, now that definitely took the wind out of his sails completely.

“Of course we’re brothers,” he responds, letting out an awkward chuckle. “I know I didn’t do a good job at it, but—”

“We’re not brothers, Dick,” you interject. “You were there for everyone else, but not me. You never viewed me as a priority.”

“That’s not true—“

“Yes it is, Dick! You didn’t say anything to me when we first met, you constantly went out of your way to hang out with Tim and the others and left me out of the fun every time, and when Damian attacked me with a fucking sword, you took his side and told me to let it go! And you have the nerve to call yourself my brother? Where do you get the fucking audacity?”

Alright, you have a few points. He should’ve included you when he hung out with the others. And yes, Damian had a rough upbringing, but that didn’t give him the right to take his sword and hurt you like that.

“I know, I know, I screwed up. I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. But I know I did you wrong, we all did, but we want to make it up to you. To bring you back home and show you the love we should’ve showed you from the beginning.”

“But I am home, Dick. Gotham was never my home and I didn’t lose twelve years of my life in that damn mansion in a city of the damned just to go back to it, surrounded by people I hate.”

Hate. That one word pierces his heart like a spear. He knows they’re probably not you favorite people in the world, but to know you hate them…

It hurts.

“Baby bird, you don’t mean—“

“Mean it? I absolutely do. You people ignored me for years, treated me like I was just a nuisance, that I obviously didn’t belong in your perfect home and your perfect family. You clearly didn’t want me there and I felt the same.”

“But we—“

“I don’t care how you feel. You obviously remembered me, probably thanks to something Alfred did, and feel guilty over how you treated me and that guilt is making you think I owe you a second chance. That’s why you’re here, Dick. To being me back to Gotham because he knows he can’t emotionally manipulate me.”

Each word you speak cuts him to his core. To know how much low you see them makes him want to cry.

You’re just saying this because they hurt you.

That’s right, they hurt you and now you want to hurt them. He gets it, baby bird. If this is what it takes to get you back home, you can berate him all you want.

But, he needs to get you back home, first. So, as much as he hates to use it, he’ll have to use his ace card. You might be scared when he tells you, but he’ll be with you as long as it takes and answer any questions you have.

“Look, I know it doesn’t justify everything we did, but there’s a reason why we were always not around. It’s because—“

“You’re Nightwing. Is that what you were going to say?”

He feels his heart stop and his blood go cold at your words.

What?

“What?”

“That you’re Nightwing. That’s what you were about to say, right?”

A moment passes as he processes your words. Once again, the wind is taken out of his sails, but this time, it feels like you just sucker punched him in the gut to do so.

You know their secret? For how long?

“How—“

“Wow, you must really think I’m that fucking stupid to not notice that. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but none of you are as subtle as you think you are. I lived there for twelve years and you really think I didn’t notice you all in costume, see your gear left strewn across the house, and hear you talking about criminals when I was right behind you?”

“I never thought you were stupid,” he defends himself.

Really, he never thought you were stupid! He saw your school records, you were a great student (struggled in math a bit, but that’s on him, he really should’ve been there to help you). But he just thought you just missed it with you sleeping on the far side of the manor.

“I also saw you guys celebrating each night when you came home. You know, with large banquets, movies, and take out. Looks like you guys had a lot of fun.”

Another gut punch. To know you saw them having so much fun that you weren’t invited to hurt him and made him want to take you into his arms and take your pain and loneliness away.

“Also, it’s not rocket science; Bruce Wayne gets a new kid every time Batman gets a new sidekick, Batman is clearly using equipment that costs a pretty penny and not many people in Gotham could foot the bill, and Jason Todd rises from the dead not long after Red Hood showed up. Honestly, the fact that no one else in Gotham has figured it out is astounding.”

Once again, a moment passes as he processes your words, his mouth agape and eyes as wide as saucers. He looks around quickly and is relieved to know there’s no camera recording this interaction, so there’s one less thing to worry about.

“Well,” he finally stutters out. “You know what we were up to. So, you know we were always busy and didn’t have one of free time.”

It hurts that he’s saying that you were less important than going out at night and punching criminals, but he’s drowning and he’s reaching for anything to keep himself afloat.

“But all of you made time for each other. I saw you make plenty of time to be there for the others, but never me.”

He really wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole. This conversation is one of the most painful things he’s ever done in his entire life. To know you stood in the background and saw him being there for everyone else…

“Well, maybe if you had done something else to get our attention,” he spits out, saying the first thing that comes to mind to keep this conversation going.

“And what should I have done,” you spit out, your eyes little more than slits and filled with hate.

“Maybe you should’ve become like us,” he mutters, his voice sounding pathetic even to him.

“What’d you just say,” you say, your tone a deadly silence.

He says nothing, realizing his mistake. You had a normal childhood with your mom, with no training whatsoever that would be useful in a vigilante situation. Plus, you’re innocent, you don’t belong on Gotham’s harsh streets; you belong at the manor with Alfred, eating cookies and drinking hot chocolate.

“I said ‘what’d you just say,’” you yell, making him jump a bit. “Say it again.”

Even though he’s taller than you (thank god), you look absolutely terrifying right now. You’re obviously pissed and repeating his stupid mistake is just going to make you angrier.

“I told you to say that again,” you yell as you open the door wide open and shove him back, making him step onto the grass as you step outside. “Now be a good little circus freak and do as I say!”

The insult is another sucker punch. It’s not the first time he’s been called that, he’s always countered it by showing off his acrobatic skills and silencing the sneers, but that obviously won’t work here.

“I said maybe you should’ve become a vigilante—“

He’s cut off by a slap to the face. When his vision clears, he sees your expression is a mix of anger and sadness, making him feel even worse about himself.

“How dare you,” you hiss, tears beginning to flow from your eyes. “So, I had to waste my life fighting Arkham’s inmates to be worthy of your love? I had to prove myself worthy of affection?”

“No,” he quickly retorts, ignoring the pain in his jaw from the slap. “I’m sorry, I—“

“Fuck you, Dick! Fuck you and fuck that dysfunctional mess you call a family! I hope you all get eaten by Killer Croc next time he breaks out!”

And with that, you storm back in your house and slam the door shut, leaving him to stare at the door, alone with his thoughts.

Shit. He came here to make you more receptive to them and all he did was make things worse. Now you’ll never come home.

And worse, he made you cry, something else he’ll never be able to forgive himself for.

“Well, I’ve done all I can,” he mutters to himself. “Guess I need to phone B and tell him what happened.”

He moves his leg to start walking back when pain surges from his ankle and when he looks down, he notices a vine covered in thick thorns wrapped around his ankle, a small line of blood on the vegetation. He must’ve got caught in it when you shoved him back and didn’t notice it.

He bends down and untangles his leg, taking care not to cut himself on the vine’s thorns.

Really, baby bird, this is why you need to come home. You don’t know how to take care of yourself, let alone a house.

When Dick told everyone what happened, Jason was genuinely surprised. When he first met you, he thought you were some little squirt that had no idea what the real world was like (of course, at that time, he was still pissed at Bruce and still riding high on Pit Madness, so he didn’t bother to spare you a passing glance).

When he learned that you lost your mom in a tragic accident and were forced to move to Gotham, where you were basically ignored and forgotten about for years…

Well, it’s not often he feels guilty about something, but this is definitely one of those times.

All those times when he yelled at Bruce for replacing him with Tim when he was doing the same thing…

Fuck, despite his best efforts, he became the old man, after all.

He was too busy being angry at the world and focusing on his own pain that he couldn’t see you were suffering.

And he knows your pain all too well, kid.

Losing your mother? Been there.

Being treated like shit? Oh yeah.

Have your life turned upside down because of Bruce? Oh, he’s president of the club.

If he had just pulled his head out of his own ass, he would’ve seen you were in pain like him. For fuck’s sake, Bruce didn’t even acknowledge your birthday or get you anything for Christmas while he was downstairs getting a limited edition copy of Pride and Prejudice and opening birthday cards with checks and gift cards.

The thought of you sitting upstairs in that fucking pitiful excuse of a room during your birthday (which is also the day of your mom’s death, ain’t that a bitch). Shit, he just wants to go back to Gotham, kick Bruce’s ass and then his own. Hell, he can remember flashing you his Pit Eyes after meeting you and you’re a damn civilian, for fuck’s sake!

Seriously, he knows he’s fucked in the head, but is he really that fucked up?

Maybe he should finally listen to Alfred and book a session with that therapist he recommended.

Well, he’ll do that when he brings you back home. After Dickhead not only failed to bring you back, but made things worse than before (they were all amazed when he told them you knew their secret, but of course Bruce stated drafting new rules about wearing their suits and handling their gear in the house to prevent someone outside the family from making the same discovery), Bruce finally green light the use of force and sent Jason.

He looks up at your house: a nice, simple thing in a small town where everyone probably knows your name.

While the others said it wasn’t for you, he actually thought what living there would be like. According to Alfred, you lived a great life there with your mother, complete with your own room and a nice tv perfect for eating cereal while watching Saturday morning cartoons.

He imagines doing that with you, him reading Jane Austen while you watch whatever silly little cartoon you like.

Yeah, shocking, but he wants to make up his shitty behavior towards you. Hell, he went ahead and bought everything your mom wrote and started reading and making notes. Now, he’ll never forsake Austen, but your mom is definitely a close second on his list of favorite authors.

She had a thing for the Age of Sails, apparently, since the books always took place on boats. She was also a romantic because she always ended her books with the two main characters falling in love, be it a noble woman and a pirate captain or the son of a major trade company and the commander of his naval escort.

Maybe your mom had some unpublished manuscript lying around and you’ll let him read it. He has plans to discuss her books with you, hopefully you know enough about her to answer them, but all he wants is to spend time with you.

Of course, first you have to come home. Whether you come along willingly or he has to drag you depends on his conversation goes with you.

“Sorry, kid,” he mutters to himself as he walks up to your door and knocks.

You want nothing to do with them. He gets it, trust him, he really does. It wasn’t that long ago he wanted to be as far from Gotham and Bruce just like you. Unfortunately, when you’re a part of this family, you’re in it for life; when it has its hooks in you, you can’t get them out.

Hopefully your transition won’t be too painful. He’ll try to keep the others (mainly Dick) from hitting you too much with their guilt-driven affections.

“What the hell are you doing here,” a voice calls out from behind him.

He turns around to see you with a brown paper bag in your hand and if he squints hard enough, he can see some restaurant’s name on the bag.

That’s right, Goodsprings is a small town where everything’s within walking distance, so it would make sense why you got take out while your car’s in the driveway.

“Look, kid, before we go any further, I just want to say that I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care,” you respond. “Go away.”

“Look, I know where you’re coming from. Really, I do. When I came back, I was pissed at Bruce and wanted nothing to do with him.”

“And yet, here you are, a part of that disgusting family and doing his bidding.”

That perpetually angry part of him wanted to say something that would only make things worse, but he manages to put a lid on that. If there’s anyone who deserves to lash out at him it’s you.

He’ll take whatever insult you have if it helps make you feel better.

“We all know we fucked up and we want you back. Just come home, Y/N. If you know who I am, then you know I’m more than happy to do things the hard way.”

“So you’ll use force to get your way. Wish I could say I’m surprised, but I’m not. You can pretend to be the well-read intellectual all you want, but you’ll always be Crime Alley trash who knows nothing but violence.”

Ok, that hurt. And that lid is starting to get harder to keep on.

He knows he’ll always be a man who uses his fists more than his words or head (those kinds of people never last long in the Alley), but he’s really tried to be more than that. He had to toughen up in order to survive back in the Alley, always hiding his love for literature and showing an attitude to the world, but when Bruce adopted him and he was able to become more than that little brat (despite all the cons living with a bastard who dressed like a bat entails).

“Too bad your mom wasn’t the type of junkie who sells her kid for her next hit. Would’ve saved the both of us a ton of trouble.”

Alright, so you know a lot of their dirty laundry. Shit. He already knew this probably wouldn’t end well, but this is going off the rails faster than he thought.

“Kid, I know you’re pissed at us and you have that right. Trust me, I’ve been pissed at Bruce for years, but you need really to come back—“

“And stop trying to relate to me, you asshat. You say you know how I feel about them, but you don’t. You came back determined to kill Batman and show him how you’re better than him, but you were also crying like a little bitch and begging Daddy to love you.”

You laugh at him mockingly while he’s starting to shake in anger, taking deep breaths to temper his rage.

“Daddy, Daddy, kiss me, kiss me,” you mock. Then your face goes back to pissed as you walk closer to him and look him straight in the eye. “You’re pathetic. Just like that whore, junkie of a mom. And your drunk of a dad.”

That’s when he loses it, despite his best efforts, and takes a swing at you. Oh well, he’s already in hot water with you, adding something else isn’t going to do much damage. At least it’ll be easy to drag you back to Gotham while you’re knocked out.

You drop the bag and catch his fist, stopping it no problem.

“How,” he starts to say before you twist his fist and he lets out a yell in pain.

“Jason Todd lashing out when faced with reality,” you say as you twist even more, bringing him to his knees. “How predictable.”

With your left hand (the bag still in your hand), you grab him by the chin and force him to look at you and when he does, he’s genuinely scared at the joy he can see reflected in them.

You’re taking pleasure in this; seeing him on his knees and at your mercy.

“Before I forget, I owe you for the black eye you gave me when we first met. Unlike your mother, mine taught me to always make good on my debts.”

Before he can do or say anything, you punch him squarely in the right eye, letting go of him so he’s knocked back by the force of the punch. He lands on the hard pavement and lays there with his right eye throbbing from the punch, already swelling up.

“Stay away from me, Jason. Next time, I won’t be so merciful.”

And with that, you step over him, unlock your door, and slam it shut, the sound of it being locked audible from his side.

“Shit,” he hisses, sitting up and touching his eye, wincing when it throbs in pain.

How the hell did you do that? You’re way smaller than him and you obviously don’t hit the gym, so how did you manage to catch his fist and counter him? And how did you manage to punch him hard enough to really hurt? Seriously, he’s taken a few shots from Bane and that punch was definitely on that level.

“B’s gonna love hearing this,” he mutters to himself as he gets up.

He walks back to the rental car he parked at your curb only to discover all four tires were punctured.

“Shit,” he yells, crouching to get a good look at the damage.

Something small and sharp punctured each tire and from what he could tell, it looks like something pierced the tire and snaked around it, making more holes.

He looks back at your house, but realizes there’s no way you could’ve done it. He didn’t see anything on you that could’ve done this. And no one else passed by while you were ripping him a new one.

So how the hell did this happen.

“Fuck,” he whines, realizing standing around isn’t going to do anything and pulls out his phone to call a tow truck.

Tim’s been curious about things he doesn’t understand all his life. It’s true, if he saw something that he couldn’t explain, he studied it, asked questions, and observed it until he finally understood it.

To say he’s curious about you is a gross understatement.

He’s ashamed to admit when he first met you, he thought he had you figured out. From what news he was able to see, you were the product of a one-night stand between Bruce Wayne and Maria Gould, a moderately successfully writer, and after she was killed by a drunk driver leaving a casino after a night of drinking and losing money, you were moved to Gotham to live with Bruce.

And when he met you, he saw nothing under that story. You grew up in a normal house with a loving mother (truth be told, he was a little jealous about that back then), not a traveling circus like Dick or in the heart of a slum like Jason, nor did you possess any notable talent like gymnastics or brute strength, and you certainly didn’t belong on the front lines, defending Gotham from crime.

You were average, nothing more, nothing less. End of story.

Well, he’s ashamed that he thought that way. You’re his younger brother, damn it, you shouldn’t have to possess anything to make him worthy of his attention. And he of all people knows what it’s like to be ignored by your family, so he should’ve talked to you and treated you like a brother, not do what his parents did to him and completely forget you exist.

But he’s here to make amends, apologize to you, and bring you back home.

Also, as much as he hates to admit it, but he’s completely obsessed with you now. He’s analyzed everything he could find on you and he’s incredibly curious how you went from getting mostly Bs and a few Cs to getting all As? Or how did you go about making your game when all you had was that sad Coding Games For Dummies to go on (he would’ve loved to teach you to code)?

And of course, there’s how you managed to push Bruce and block Jason’s punch and give him a black eye. Both of them are easily the strongest out of everyone in the family, so how someone like you managed to take them down is nothing short of astounding (and concerning).

In fact, if he fails like Dick and Jason, he wants to at least find a way of obtaining a blood sample. The last time you had blood drawn was on your eighteenth birthday, none of it showing you even have the Meta Gene, but until he performs the test and sees the results himself, he’s keeping all options open.

“Hello, Y/N,” he greets you as he sits in your booth at the Pearl’s Diner, a restaurant you routinely frequent.

You look up from your meal and your expression shifts in disgust.

“Are you fucking kidding me,” you spit, slamming your utensils down on the table. “Are you people really stalking me? It’s been everyday with you people!”

It’s true, Dick visited you two days ago, Jason was yesterday, and today is his turn to bring you back to the fold. He’s really hoping he succeeds, because Steph and Cass are next, and Damian is last (he demanded to come and was pissed when Bruce sent him instead).

“Come on, Y/N, I just want to talk to you. Is that too much to ask for?”

“Yes,” you instantly respond. “Why are you even here in the first place, shouldn’t you be stalking Mr. Wayne from the shadows?”

He hides his wince from you, but your words definitely hurt him.

Yes, he stalked Bruce, but there was nothing nefarious about it! He was fascinated by Batman and Robin and just wanted to know more!

“Look, I know you’re angry at us and you have every right to. We should’ve done better and there’s no excuse we can give that will ever erase the damage done to you.”

“Glad to know you understand that,” you say that with a raised eyebrow. “Now go away.”

“You know I wouldn’t be here just to say that. I’m here to bring you back home.”

“Gotham isn’t my home,” you growl through grit teeth. “How many times do I have to say that? I’m never going back to that city of the damned and I’m sure as hell never stepping foot in that fucking manor.”

On one hand, he gets why you feel about Gotham, it’s a city that’s taken much from its people, it’s constantly dark and gloomy, and its atmosphere is constantly oppressive and intimidating. But on the other, he’s a born and raised Gothamite (no matter how much Jason says otherwise due to his upbringing) and he’s Red Robin, so he has a strong pride for his home. But, he’s willing to let it slide since he knows you had happy memories of Goodsprings and every memory you have of Gotham is negative (something he hopes to correct).

“I know why you feel that way, but no matter what you say or how you feel, Bruce’s DNA makes up half of yours. Like it or not, he’s your father and we’re your family. We realize we screwed up and we want you back.”

“You’re wrong, he’s not my father, he’s a sperm donor.” He winces at how you view Bruce. “Hell, my Momma probably took pity on him and gave him the best night he’ll ever have. If I could, I’d suck out all the Wayne DNA and give it back to him. I want nothing to do with him and I sure as hell don’t want anything to do with you.”

Alright, this isn’t going well (as he anticipated), so he needs to switch gears and get a blood sample. If Bruce is right and you have the Meta Gene, knowing your powers will go a long way. After they (he) studies every last molecule of your DNA and they find ways to counter your abilities, they’ll be able to bring you back home.

Sure, you’ll be angry (probably more than now), but in time, you’ll realize this was for the best; that you belonged with them and while you have the last name Gould, you’re a Wayne and your rightful place is the manor. Hell, he’s helping Bruce draft a story to tell the media why you moved back to the manor and plans for your gala, which will be the biggest event Gotham will ever see, complete with endless buffets, the finest music, and the city’s biggest movers and shakers.

But in order for any of that to happen, he needs a blood sample. He glances down at the ring on his finger, which houses a hidden needle that will pierce your skin without you even feeling it and your blood will be housed in a small vial housed within the ring. He has a blood analyzer in his car, so he won’t have to wait to get to the manor in order to run the tests, he can do it once he leaves and read the results on the jet ride home.

“Y/N,” he starts, reaching out to your hand, thankful you’re wearing a t-shirt. “Please, come home.”

Almost there.

“Alfred misses you.”

Just a little more…

Then, you grab his wrist, halting him and squeezing it, making him wince in pain.

“Why are you so eager to make me go back to Gotham,” you hiss, yanking his arm, causing him to jerk across the table. “Let me guess, now that I’m gone, everyone’s ignoring you? They’re treating you like your parents treated you?”

So Jason was right, you know all their secrets. Specifically, his issues with his parents and how he felt about their lack of affection towards him. Shit.

“Did it feel nice, Tim, ignoring me and pretending I didn’t exist? Jack and Janet made you feel like shit for years and now you had the opportunity to do the same to someone else.”

He tries to flip his wrist to try to slide the ring across any exposed skin so he can take a blood sample, but you have a vice-like grip on it and he can’t move it any; all he can do is look you in your hate-filled eyes.

“Do you ever think they knew something was wrong with you? That’s why they wanted nothing to do with you? Despite their best efforts, you came out so fucked up not even your own mother could love you. How pathetic.”

He tries to break free, but your hand doesn’t budge at all. Hell, he’s using his Red Robin strength and it’s not budging at all. Seriously, what are you?

“I’m telling you this right now, Tim, stay away from me. All of you. I didn’t lose twelve years in Gotham and spend the last four years creating my dream life just have you lot fuck it up.” You squeeze to the point it feels like you’ll snap his wrist off and he bites his tongue to resist yelling out in pain. “If you guys keep coming near me, you won’t live long enough to regret it.”

And with that, you throw him back into his booth, his wrist throbbing from the pain, and get up, walk to the waitress behind the counter up front to pay for your meal (which is unfinished), and leave.

He looks down at his wrist to see it’s definitely bruised.

Well, things just got more interesting.

Damian shouldn’t be surprised the there’s failed. Especially Drake, that misfit proves his inferiority at every turn and makes his poor breeding apparent.

Honestly, Father really should’ve let him go instead of Greyson. You’re his blood brother (granted, you come from a different mother than him, but Father’s DNA is what matters) and out of everyone in their family, he’s the only one besides Father capable of reaching you. The original plan was for Brown and Cain to come and bring you home, but a major Arkham breakout changed that.

Well, technically, Father said Brown and Cain were to come to you after all the inmates were returned to Arkham, but he used the breakout as a cover and took the jet to fly to Nevada. Father will no doubt complain about his actions, but he’ll no doubt forget about his actions when he returns with you in tow.

Of course, he knows his transgressions against you. He remembers drawing his sword and drawing blood, he remembers the countless insults he spat at you and your mother, and he remembers sending his pets to hunt you for sport.

When he met you, he was honestly surprised when Pennyworth said you were Father’s firstborn, something not even Mother and Grandfather were aware of because they told him he was to be Bruce’s only blood son. After learning of your existence, he immediately became concerned about his role as heir to the Wayne legacy; after all, tradition states that everything of true value passes to the firstborn son and seeing you put his position as heir to the Bat at risk.

And then he lashed out, drawing blood and cursing you and your mother, who he now regrets calling a whore because he now knows she didn’t intentionally share his bed, it was just the result of two adults making an idiotic mistake.

His time in the League gave him unrivaled perception and he could tell at a glance that you possessed no training whatsoever, nor did you possess any skill useful to fulfilling Father’s mission of combating Gotham’s criminals. You were raised in an average house and lived an average, unremarkable life.

You were no threat to him and knew nothing of what the family was really doing at night.

He knew that, but he felt the need to assert his place in the family’s hierarchy and remind you that you were beneath all of them, even beneath Drake (of course he knows better, no one could be beneath Drake and you belong with him, underneath Father).

He spent the next few years going out of his way to make your life miserable, insulting you every chance he got, cruelly reminding you that your mother was dead, using his pets to chase you throughout the manor, and abusing Greyson’s favoritism for him to deflect any accountability when you tried to defend yourself.

Back then, he didn’t see the value in having a biological connection to anyone because he viewed it as a danger to his position as heir to the Bat. Besides, he had more than enough “siblings” due to Father’s need to adopt every orphan that crosses his path.

Now that he’s grown some surrounded by Father, Pennyworth, and the rest of his family (even Drake), he knows the value in having you by his side. To have someone he’s bound to by blood is to have a connection with another that can’t be beaten by any other and he knows that he was a fool to spurn that gift.

He intends to make up for his transgressions by being the best brother imaginable; Greyson has shown him how a brother is supposed to be and he knows he can improve upon those methods to be better than Greyson. While Father plans on being the one to greet you every morning, he intends on being by your side, involving you in everything he does (except at night when he’s Robin; even if you have the Meta Gene, you have no place surrounded by the filth of Gotham), including painting, where he has plans on painting a portrait of you and him and hang it in your room.

Of course, there’s still the matter of bringing you back home. While he knows that you most likely despise him the most, nothing will hinge the fact that you and him are brothers. There has to be some rational part of you that will be receptive to his words.

He approaches you from behind while you’re crouched at your mother’s grave, talking to it as if it was her. He looks over you to see her tombstone:

Maria Gould

May Her Sails Point Towards Heaven

The tombstone is between two clusters of red lilies that seem to have been planted there, most likely by you if he had to guess.

As he nears you, you slowly turn around and face him, your expression of mourning shifting to a look of disgust and hatred (an expression that unnerves him slightly).

“What fresh hell is this,” you spit out, standing to your full height (you must’ve inherited your height from your mother because he’s slightly taller than you). “It wasn’t enough that your father had to come and ruin my big night, now you have to come and desecrate my Momma’s grave?”

“Brother, I—“

Before he can say another word, you close the distance between the two of you and wrap your hand around his throat, silencing him.

“You have no right calling me that! After you made my life a living hell!”

He brings his hands up to your arm and tries to break your hold, but unsurprisingly, he can’t. When Drake told them about your grip on his wrist, he attributed it to his natural weakness, but there may be some truth to the theory of you being a meta.

“After what you did, I should snap your neck. Wouldn’t that be a bitch, to die by the hand of someone you deemed to be of ‘ill breeding?’”

He regrets ever calling your breeding into question (something only reserved for Drake); he wants to say he takes it back and he deeply regrets it, but right now, he’s struggling to breath.

Just then, you toss him aside, he coughs as he quickly fills his lungs with air.

“You’re lucky we’re at my Momma’s grave, or I’d kill you.”

You spit at his feet to show your disgust for him before storming off to your nearby car. He watches as you drive off before looking down at the ring on his finger, the same kind Drake hoped to get a blood sample from you; he takes it off and looks on the inside to see the vial filled with your life essence.

“Once again, Drake, I have demonstrated why I deserve the Wayne name and you don’t.”

He pockets the ring and makes his way to the rental car. He had hoped to convince you to return to the manor, but he was content to extracting a blood sample to answer some questions they have about you.

You might know their secrets, but they’ll soon level the playing field and when they do, they can bring you home.

And when they do, he’ll be the brother you deserve.

Tag List: @space1crow @bat1212 @minkyungseokie @nosyrobin @bunbunboysworld @kitty-from-daaaa-voidddd @feral-childs-word @phoenixgurl030 @soriansick @hellcatsworld @prettyboys247 @marsmabe @paolexsstuff @c0l1fl0r @starryperson @kore-of-the-underworld @kiarst @vanessa-boo @moxiemy @greatwhisperspaper @tatsuri-zomushiki @starsdotalk @luna57765 @jsprien213 @lizz-lrm @chericia @lunaluz432 @orbitingtraveler @roseytheteacup @bellethesleepypotato @exactlynumberonekryptonite @fantasyhopperhea @ellaprime7 @ratchetprime211 @bunbunbread @solelifauna @diejager @v0idl1nq

[toulousewayne]

🌿🍃Toxic Lover: Pt: I

Nightwing X male!reader with a former team who had become Poison Ivy like meta-human.

Summary:Your a former Titan teammate, you and Dick have unresolved feelings and you become infected with the same toxins and chemicals that turned Poison Ivy into a meta-human.

————————

It was a simple mission. Get in and get out. It wasn’t supposed to go the way it had.

Y/n was a skilled fighter and vigilante, he trained with Black Canary, WildCat, Wonder Woman and the League of Assassins. He operated as solo vigilante since he could remember.

He worked with most of the league and helped them as much as he could. He helped Batman and Robin a lot since he did very similar missions to them. When Dick formed the Titans and went solo as Nightwing he asked Y/n to join him. Y/n worked well with Starfire and Raven, he had fun playing games with Cyborg and Best Boy. He often hung out with Dick and Donna and Wally would visit often too.

Y/n took some time from the team and did solo missions for a while before being called by Dick to help him,Wally and Donna with a rescue mission in Metropolis.

“We just need to find the data bank with the information containing Ivy’s records and research. Luthor was help to gather and stored it in his lab. We need to get the information and destroy any bioweapon schematics.” Dick instructed.

“Anything we should be aware of,”Y/n perked up from his seat in the jet. Donna adjusted her sliver lasso to her waist,”Is Ivy herself involved?”

“As far as Batman’s intel can confirm she’s been missing for the last three months.” He confirms.

“Great so no giant kale bushes to crush us, noted.” Wally quipped. Y/n chuckled as Donna and Dick rolled their eyes.

——-

The Quad split into pairs;Wally and Donna and Dick and Y/n. Donna and Wally took the research offices upstairs meanwhile, Dick and Y/n took the lower levels.

Dick sneak into some of the office while Y/n found a hidden lab. He took photos, and took a flash drive to take the data from the server. He found several vials, tubes and plants on a desk and took photos.

“Nightwing, I’m in this lab. It looks they’ve extracted some of Ivy’s original pheromones and try to weaponize them.”

“I’ll be there soon…kinda busy.” He heard a loud bang and a punch. Y/n turned around to see a scientist and three guards at the doorway.

“Sorry you found this, but unfortunately Mr. Luthor doesn’t what this getting out. Boys don’t let him leave.” The scientist quickly fled as the guards moved in.

“Sorry lapdogs,but I’m leaving with the drive.” Y/n sprang into action and started fighting.

“It’s a trap,you have to get out of that room.” Nightwing’s voice filed the hero’s ear. Y/n managed to take out two goons but the last one was the biggest and blocked the only exit. He rushed Y/n and managed to forcefully shove him into the computer and servers. Knocking Y/n off his balance and disorienting him. He had cuts on his faces and blood trickled from his lip.Then, while he was stunned he took him and threw him into the desk with vitals and pheromones.

The two guard got the their feet and assisted in beating him to a pulp. Y/n was loosing his consciousness and went in and out. “..Dick—help.” He winced.

The large goon took the remaining vitals and smashed them over the hero. He threw the plant cart on him too and took out a lighter.

“Mr. Luthor sends his regards.” He threw the lighter at the spilled chemical and engulfed the room in flames.

——

The fire spread through out the facility and Nightwing managed to find the source. Toria and Flash managed to get to him but the flames were to high.

“We need to save him!” Nightwing tried to go towards the labs but Toria stopped him.

“You can’t go in there you’ll die!” He tried to push her but she wasn’t budgeting. Tears streaming down his face he begged his friends.

“Please, we have to try, please.” Wally nodded.”Get him to the surface I’ll try to get to Y/n. Go now!” He barked. Toria grabbed Nightwing and sped out of the lower levels as Flash created tornados to clear up the flames.

—-

Dick set on the jet without his mask, tears, bruises, and soot. Donna stood guard watching as the building’s flames were put out by firefighters. Wally entered the vessel with a stretcher with a white sheet on top.The form on it was Y/n’s body. Dick didn’t say a word as more tears formed in his eyes.

“It’s all my fault.” He hissed. Donna placed a hand on his shoulder,”It’s not Dick, you can’t blame—“

“It is. I asked him to come, I asked both of you to come and it nearly killed you all. I—l..” Dick broke down in tears and shouted. He rocked hisself and sob and Donna comforted him. Wally placed a hand on his other shoulder and talked him through it.

——-

Dick sat in his seat at the cemetery in Gotham. The small crowd of heroes dressed in black one by one left the small private ceremony for Y/n. Dinah gave a worried look at Dick whose gaze hadn’t left the spot where Y/n’s casket had been lowered into the earth and covered with fresh soil.

Bruce stood next to her and they didn’t speak right away but Dinah broke the silence. “Diana told me what happened from Donna. He hasn’t been the same.” Bruce didn’t reply.

“Well he be okay?” She hummed. Bruce turned to his friend and looked back at his son.”They were in love Dinah, it was obvious to most of us but not them. I’m not sure he if knew he loved Y/n as more than a friend, but I know he won’t stop until he can give him justice.”

“You think he’ll kil-“

“I hope not but I can only help him through this, I’ve learned a long time ago to not try to pressure him into a decision.” He walked to Dick and gave his shoulder a squeeze.

“Let’s go son.”

——-

Y/n saw his life flash before his eyes during his attack. Between each rib being fractured, another punch to the back, or kick to the stomach he felt his favorite memories flood his eyes.

From training the younger members of Young Justice with Dick’s little brother the third Robin, game nights with the Titans, going to a concert with Dick he practically dragged him to.

That concert was the best night of his life he felt so carefree, not birdied with the responsibilities of being a more experienced hero. Not feeling like he couldn’t tell his best friend how he truly felt, and just watch from a distance as he went out dates with other girls or laughed with the guys at games nights.

Y/n knew he was in deep shit from the moment he met the Last Flying Grayson, and he didn’t care.

The band was one he like since he was in Middle school,and he begged Dick for weeks to go with him, eventually he agreed to go because he felt bad for missing so many plans to help his family with their own missions.

“I hope they aren’t a snooze fest because I could have stayed home and listened to Tim explain Quant-Time travel.” He joked as Y/n pulled on his hoodie he just purchased.

He shoved his shoulders,”Don’t even Grayson these guys are the best. You’re not gonna regret it. Plus, don’t act like you don’t love Timmy’s rambles.” Y/n fired back.

He held his hands in surrender. “Hey I had to think of something.” Y/n took Dick’s hand and dragged him into the arena just as the music blared through the speakers. Y/n was unaware of the crimson color that painted Dick’s face. And to busy to notice the stole glances Dick took through the night.

—-

The smell of smoke burned Y/n’s nostrils and he chocked on it. But the blood in his mouth took out some of the harsh smells. The flames were roaring in the room and shortly everything began to spin. Y/n barely regained consciousness before everything swiftly went to black.

Then it went Green.

The green light became paler and paler and the sound of a heartbeat echoed. Almost in slow motion. Most of the light became closer too. Became bright white and the sounds of Gotham City came hard and fast like a gunshot.

Y/n stood up in the middle of the street and he noticed something wasn’t right. The last thing he remembered was dying in Metropolis and now he’s in old Gotham. To his left was the build up of traffic and to his right was Gotham Cemetery. He tried to move but fell to the ground.

“The fuck.” His hoarse voice choked out. He noticed his arms were covered in slime of some kind and leaves. He saw a small puddle and took a glance at his reflection. His face was the same but more beautiful, sharper features, deep green iris, and fuller lips.

“Hey freak,get outta the way!” A voice shouted and honked his horned.

Y/n snapped his head up and grew easily frustrated,his head was still spinning and blaring horn was causing more pain.

“Ugh, can’t you be idiotic somewhere else.” With his hand on the ground it began to shake and large vines jumped through the concrete and began to crush the car. The driver managed to get out before it was crushed to pieces. Y/n slowly got to his feet and stumbled.

“That’s new.” Several other drivers fled their cars and screams. Two officers drew their weapons and order Y/n to freeze. Something in Y/n slowly turned and began to change in his feelings toward the police.

“Freeze Freak!” The older officer hisses,Y/n cocks his head to the side with smirk.

“Pathetic pigs, you never appreciate the things you take for granted. You worthless meat sacks.”

The two officers look at each other,”Meat-what?” It’s short lived as vines bursted through the growing and take them prisoner. Y/n strolls over to them. He chuckles.

“Mother Earth wouldn’t be to proud of you. Nature will always win.” He takes his nails and scratches both across the face and then plants begin to grow out their faces and they gag. More large vines rise and take Y/n underground.

—————

He re-emerges in the old Gotham Greenhouse in Robinson Park. More vines and flowers bloom in the old building giving it a new look. The old overgrown plants become green and flourish again with life.

“Men have ruined you, I don’t know what yet, I know can revive you. But I promise you will be avenged. I am Mother Nature’s new branch and I will take Gotham first then, we will cleanse the rest of this planet.” He laughs to himself before the sound of glass shatters.

He worlds around to see Nightwing.

“Y/n,what happened to you. You were dead.” Y/n felt conflicted. On one hand he wanted run to Dick and get his help, but on the other hand he wanted to crush him and turn him into mulch.

Nightwing drew closer, “This isn’t you N/N. I don’t know what happened in the last 72 hours but you aren’t yourself. I can help you but you have to let me.” His voice was strained like his had been yelling or not speaking. It didn’t go unnoticed but something in Y/n didn’t care and he was constantly fighting a battle within himself.

“Dick—what?”

“I can help you,Y/n you have to understand I care about you. But you have to stop.” Nightwing earpiece buzzed and Y/n could heard the voice of Robin from a nearby plant. The words: Cops. Killed. Poisoned. Y/n.

Nightwing turned to him with a blank expression and a tighter grip on his weapons.

“Y/n, let me take you get help. I promise I won’t let anyone harm you.” His voice wasn’t as raw as it was. It was stern yet cautious.

The switch in Y/n flipped and the smirk and sultry voice returned.

“Dick, join me,” he persuades, “Become my Adam and help me flourish this place into a new garden. Just for the two of use.”

Nightwing took a defensive stanch. “Can’t do that. I’m sorry.” The last part was a whisper but Y/n caught it.

“Well then I’m sorry too.” With the flick of his wrist and two large flowers sprouted. The plants around Nightwing were now healthily and quickly attacked him.

Y/n rose several feet in the air on a seat of large leaves and petals. Nightwing dodged the vines but is eventually became captured after miscalculating a step after trying to not harm Y/n.

He’s wrapped in vines and is unable to move. The vines bring him closer to Y/n who purrs.

He runs a thumb across Dick’s lips. “I never noticed.” He whispered.

“What?” Dick huffed. Y/n takes his face and brings it closer. He has a soft smile and Dick is conflicted.

“How much I wanted to do this.” He kisses Dick. He tries break free of his binds but after a few moments he stops and kisses back and soon the kiss deepens and Y/n has to stop. He places his forehead against Dick’s and sighs.

Dick’s eyes are glossed over and his blue eyes are a pale green.

“Dick?”

“Yes, my Love?” He says deadpans. Y/n sighs to himself and releases him.

The virus in Y/n grows stronger. And he laughs to himself.

“We have a few housewarming gifts to give out. Fetch them for me Darlin.” Nightwing mindless obeys and leaves Y/n who glances at his appearance in the water fountain for the first time noticing the torn up suit he was buried in.

“It’s time for a new Harvest.”

[the-apocrypha]

anything related to dream's german accent from "the fourth dimension"? I've been obsessed with that little detail since you first posted that fic ❤️

OMG yes. The original fic, for reference. Also, asking for a friend, does 800 words count as short?

They stand in perfect silence on the forest path, Dream’s phone balanced in the palm of his hand as it records. The sound of the bird's song is made into an aesthetically pleasing series of bars on a line, on the app, and below it an hourglass spins as the song is compared to millions of other stored bird calls around the world.

Pacific wren appears first.

Below it, reed warbler.

Then, at last—sedge wren.

“It must be,” Dream murmurs. He loses patience and pulls the phone back toward himself, tapping at it. “These other two are not native species, they would not be—no. Pacific. And… India. It must be the sedge wren, there is—” He taps some more, and then a recorded bird call plays from the phone. “Yes?”

Dream is looking at Hob.

It sounds the same to Hob, but then, Hob has long proven that he has neither the senses nor the temperament for birding. Why Dream insists on consulting him at these turns is an ongoing mystery.

“Definitely,” Hob says.

Dream's nose scrunches.

"Definitely not?" Hob tries.

“If only—” Dream's brows draw together as he abandons the phone to squint into the bushes where the birdsong has been coming from. The binoculars come up, and then back down again. The squint gains agitation.

There is contention, amongst the birding community, about what constitutes a “rare bird spotting”. Some people hold that the bird must be seen, while others will settle for call identification only. This is to say nothing of the debate regarding rare birds unintentionally captured in the background of photographs, noticed days or weeks later.

“Show yourself,” Dream mutters, with a scowl fit to light the brush on fire.

Hob has a little gander about the path while he waits, like an airplane in a holding pattern. Further down the trail, there’s supposed to be a boardwalk over a wetland that he suspects will take at least an hour to traverse for all the birds expected to be nested there. He’s brought a book for that particular layover. It’s even not in English, at Dream’s insistence that Inkheart was best enjoyed in its original text, and also of an appropriate reading level for Hob’s current faculty with the German language.

He takes a picture, as he waits, of Dream with binoculars to the sky. It matches the other thousand of them on his phone. Binoculars at the beach. Binoculars at the park. Binoculars out the train window.

Eventually, Dream’s shoulders slump, and he lets the binoculars drop. He pockets his phone.

The bird song has gone.

“Sorry, love,” Hob offers, with a consoling hand between Dream’s shoulderblades.

“Such are the trials of ornithology,” Dream sighs.

“There’ll be other birds,” Hob tells him, and with gentle pressure, he gets Dream’s feet moving down the path again. “Maybe you’ll get that, uh, gargagney you wanted instead.”

“Garganey.”

“S’what I said.”

Dream trudges down the path.

They make it approximately a hundred feet before Dream’s head suddenly snaps up, and he has the binoculars up as quick as a flash.

A second later, Hob is unceremoniously yanked closer.

“Look!” Dream hisses, shoving binoculars in front of Hob’s eyes. “Look, look, up there, third branch from the top, just to the right, it’s a peewit.”

“A what.”

The sound of fingers on glass patters away as Hob takes approximately an eon to find the little bird that Dream had somehow spotted out of the corner of his eye perched fifty feet up a tree.

“It is not actually called a peewit,” Hob says.

Dream ignores him.

Hob shakes his head, and lowers the binoculars to watch Dream race through the Merlin menu to find the peewit's dedicated page. He holds out the binoculars in preparation, and sure enough, thirty seconds later Dream snatches them up to verify his identification.

Hob returns to his holding pattern.

“Hey,” he says, at length. “Is that the peewit’s call?”

Dream looks up from his phone. “Mm?”

Hob gestures at thin air. “That?”

There’s a wok wok wok wok wok wok wok overhead.

Dream shakes his head, and returns to his phone. “A squirrel, Hob.” Only, of course, they are speaking German and so it is Eichhörnchen.

“A what?” Hob asks, suppressing a grin.

“Ein Eichhörnchen,” Dream repeats. He glances up briefly.

Hob’s pretend expression of confusion passes muster.

“A squirrel,” Dream translates impatiently, and then switches back to the binoculars.

One of Hob’s greatest sorrows in life is that Dream has learned to minimize his accented English over the last few years. It had been Hob Gatling, and vhatches and seh Dhreaming, every word just a little bit imperfect and all the more wonderful for it. Now, it is only when Dream’s focus slips that Hob is allowed these little gifts from him.

Skuurl.

Hob turns into another holding pattern, and grins to himself.

[knightyoomyoui]

[SMUT] TWICE Momo x Male Reader -  “A Steamy Post-Action”

Longest smut one-shot I had so far! I enjoyed writing this one a lot because I added this with a genre I’ve never wrote before, even in my non-smut one-shot book. So yeah, this one is unique and I’m delighted that I get to finally challenge myself to work on it! Enjoy everyone!

It is year 2050, where people are on a brink of extinction since monstrous creatures spawned in Earth from a fallen asteroid recorded by specialized people on the field of science. 

As they grew and developed in various speed of time, they began to attack and slay every innocent individuals around the planet; marking the beginning of their unresolvable domination that still occurs up to this day.

Fortunately, some of the people who avoided the dangers brought by these horrible nightmarish lifeforms were intelligent and applicable enough to stand as a leader and participate in other various positions as they build their own force; with the agenda solely dedicated for the destruction of their villanous monsters.

They proposed plans in preparation to strike back as a revenge for their deceased fellow humans while the researcers and scientist proceeded to search for a key that will enable them to unlock the weakness in result to take down these monsters all at once.

That is, until one day; luck came into their side when they successfully gathered a research about this particular plant that holds juices which can act as acidic liquid to evaporate and poison the disfigured bodies easily.

They scanned through every areas where this plant could appear, and they included it on their mission to assign for their outlaws in command whenever they get dispatched from outside to face these diabolical monsters roaming around.

Just like today, two of the agents from one of the headquarters in Japan named YN and his sidekick Momo were tasked to collect some herbal plant for a new experimentation to be performed.

Scanning around the surroundings of Kyoto, they managed to detect one; which leads them to an abandoned mall. They entered together with the hopes of discovering one for them to finally believe their findings.

"The dot is blinking at the center." YN who is holding the tracker in his hand while walking, said to Momo flashing a light around just like him. "If we will based it from the interior map of this mall..."

"... that means the plant we're looking for is..." Momo and YN stopped on their tracks as they reached the border of the open grounds of the mall. Lowering her head, YN looks at her while waiting for the next words for him to listen. "... down here."

"Basement. We're going to the parking lot." YN specified after getting what Momo is pertaining to. "Cmon, we gotta hurry up and look for emergency stairs that will take us there."

Momo and YN quickened the speed of their steps. "Here!" he exclaimed but not that loud, as they're still trying not to create too much noise to attract monsters that might be strolling around nearby.

They went downstairs and reached the basement. It was dark, empty and almost suffocating with the almost less than average amount of air consisting the place. "Let's stick together. Stay by my side, I don't want one of us to get lost in the dark." YN grabbed Momo's wrist and pulled it closer to him. The black curly haired Japanese woman felt slightly astounded at her partner's sudden touch.

As they continued to cautiously look around while illuminating some spots with the use of their flashlights, they finally directed theirselves into a bush filled with the special herbal plant they've been looking for.

"Gotcha." YN pulls out his scissors and plastic bag. He cuts the stem of the leaves one by one and placed it inside the container while Momo is keeping his vision clear with her light.

After they finished, they both faced each other as YN returns the things back to his backpack. "We're now done. Let's go head back to the base."

Momo nodded. As they're about to walk back to the entrance of the emergency stairs, Momo accidentally kicked a single empty can scattered in the ground; creating loud sounds of metal clanging echoed throughout the parking lot.

"Shit!" Momo cursed under her breath. She gritted her teeth and shuts her eyes in irritation at the accident she has done.

"Oh no." YN looked at her frightenedly. Creepy roars became audible to them from a distance, signalling that the sounds has indeed attracted some of the monsters at the end far away from them in the parking lot to become attracted at the noise.

Hearing some increasing sounds of footsteps, YN and Momo's instincts became aware of what's about to happen. "T-they're coming. We have to run. NOW!"

YN didn't cared anyone if he raised his voice. The monsters already knew of their presence now anyway. It was no use to play safe.

Momo and YN dashed through the steps upstairs and went back to the first floor of the mall. Screeches and intimidating growls greeted them too as it seems like they got alerted too that an invader has arrived in their territory.

Preparing theirselves for a fight to ensue with these bastards, they pull out their handy weapon; a gun out of their waist pocket. While they're on a run for survival, YN and Momo begun to encounter one tethered creature along their way. It looked at them fiercely and opened his mouth to show its hunger, with the black substance slowly coming out from it; effectively disguted the both outlaws.

Without any further ado, YN shot the monster straight to its head double times. "Go! Go! Keep moving forward! We might get trapped!" He encouraged Momo to proceed running by tapping her shoulder.

More monsters emerges from the shadows, YN and Momo back and forth fires bullets to each of them as they defend theirselves side by side. It doesn't mean an easy escape for them now as they also had to face some monsters who had a slightly tougher skin and more resistance to damage.

They why it left both YN and Momo to reveal their secondary weapon they carry with them to finish this in no matter of time. Sliding out their katanas from their backs, they start slashing and cutting all the parts of monsters; causing it to get ripped out or left open with the insides and blood to flow out.

Too occupied with their respective enemies, Momo didn't noticed that a hand from a nearly slained monster just grabbed her foot. She kicked it repeatedly to let go, only for a monster to have an opportunity to charge at her and send her to the ground, dropping her gun away from her.

The monster tried to push its face closer to Momo so that it could get an infectious bite. Momo groaned through her all strength to push the monster away until she uses a knife to aggressively stab the neck. It left her in shock when it is still moving and doing all its best to include Momo as its next victim.

Not until when she had to witness a brutal kill close to her as YN yelled at the frightening sight of Momo about to be devoured by the hideous creature. "MOMO!" He ran and swung his katana to the left, straightfully aiming it on the head and decapitating the monster as its blood splattered around his overpowered sidekick.

Momo was just laying down on the ground, still eyes wide open in shock and confusion about what just happened. The body slowly collapsed in front of her and YN's figure appeared on her vision as it kneeled down and checked on her. "A-are you okay, Momoring? Did you get bitten?"

"Y-yeah. I'm good. Not a single scratch." Momo nodded. YN thankfully didn't found any bite marks around Momo's exposed skin. Due to relief and being afraid of nearly losing Momo, he immediately pulled her closer to him; where he cuddled the stunned Momo around her arms for comfort.

"Thank God I was alarmed right on time to save you." YN muttered as he took more time to feel the still alive and well partner of his who is now blushing and fluttered much at the contact of their bodies together.

Around half an hour later, they both safely returned back to their base. Informing good news to them about successfully collecting plants for a wider research and purposive experiments, their comrades along with their very own command leader thanked and congratulated them for accomplishing their task.

Back in their own rooms, YN was placing back his belongings to his locker when a knock on the door grabbed his attention. It was Momo standing there with a white towel on her hand.

"Oh, hey. I didn't noticed you there." YN said as he closed the locker and fold a towel to his arm too. "What do you want us to talk about?"

"I just wanna say thank you for earlier." Momo smiled appreciatingly. "You saved my life out there. If it wasn't for you, I would probably be one of those infected now, insanely limping around the mall without no memories of how I lived as a human before."

"I had to it. You're my sidekick, Momo. It's my responsibility to put you in no harm. We got each other's back and I would never let you slip out of my sight unless I'm contended enough that I'm looking at you safe and alive." YN replied to her grateful message.

"Yeah I can see that. You just proved that a while ago, and I couldn't be more contented than to pour all of my trust for you to take care of me as much as I want to do the same for you." Momo giggled and tightened her hold on her towel as she shyfully swayed her body.

YN stepped closer to her and stood in front of her near the door. "But could you do the same thing for me about something that I've been hiding from you ever since I get to meet you when you were assigned to be my new partner?" He asked, looking around her features that never failed to make your butterflies in your stomach to go wild.

"Uhm... w-what is it?"

YN sighed and looked around the hallway, wanting this to become a moment only you two could understand and hear each other out. "I like you, Momo. I really do. That's what it keeps me always motivated and devoted from treating you good and keeping you safe and comfortable beside me. You know I lost a partner before, I sweared to myself that I'll never lose one again. Then you came, and you made me feel this something in my heart almost undescribable for me to begin with. Now I know to myself that if something happens to you, I never forgive myself for that... and a part of myself will never recover if you do."

Momo was just standing there in surprise as she watches her friend and mentor confessing his love courageously in front of her. Her heart blossomed, blood rushing fast in her body up towards her cheeks to form intense blushes when she finally got to know that her crush adores her back.

"I know you'll be shocked. I can see it already. You didn't expect me to be this emotional and heartfelt for you but just to let you know, I've been waiting for this moment to come. To finally tell you how much I love you." YN chuckled as he placed his hands on his back and lowered his back in embarassment. "And now, I'll only get to wish that you're fe-"

His words were cut off when YN weren't allowed to speak anymore by Momo who interrupted him by cupping her slim hands to each sides of his faces. She squeezed his cheeks and Momo enjoyed how adorable you looked when she tame you like this.

"Uhh... ehh... M-momo?" You asked confusedly with your muffled voice.

"You don't have to do that too any longer, YN. I'm here to grant it all right now, because I love you too YN."

Momo kissed YN, sending shockwaves through his body as he feel and taste the sincere love gesture across his lips. Melting at the intimacy, YN surrendered from his desires as he touched Momo back by placing his hand behind her head and pull her closer to deepen the passionate kiss.

As they released, both of them laughed sheepishly from one another before they smiled softly. It didn't last long for Momo however, when an idea popped up in her mind that led to the curve of her lips transform into a playful smirk.

"Follow me, YN." Momo holds your hand and pulls you with her.

"Uhh hey, sure but... where are we going?"

Taking a turn to the right hallway, both of you entered a room. It had to recognize immediately from the toilet and showerhead connected to the walls that Momo had just led you to the headquarters' public bathroom.

"W-wait, why did you take us here? This is for anyone?!" You hissed at Momo after you glanced at the sign on the door.

"Don't worry about it. No one will catch us if we won't get too obvious~" Momo said as she caressed your chest and looked at you with her changing aura.

"Look at me." She turned your head to face her.

"Isn't it good to save water, especially when are in a midst of an apocalyse?" Momo asked.

"Y-yeah." You nodded. "Momo, are you saying that..."

"Yeah. I just thought what if... we just clean ourselves up by showering TOGETHER?~" Momo seductively smirked as she gripped your toned arms. You gulped at her growing lost visible in her eyes. She stole your towel and joined it with hers as she hooked it on of the available cubicle doors.

"Let's get started, shall we? We still have to rest afterwards." Momo pulled you with her again, inserting yourself in a free space only occupied by you and her; where she could get to enjoy her time with you tonight for a steamy shower.

She had you in for another kiss before she stood straight in front of you. "What are you waiting for? I'm dirty, take these off from me first." Momo said as she spreaded her arms, causing to inflate her visible cleavage from the tightness of her smelly and filthy suit from the innards of those monsters both of you killed in the mission.

For the first time ever, it won't be your leader that you'll get to comply with her commands to you  You are into Momo tonight, and you're willing to serve and satisfy what she wants and needs for you to make her feel pleasured tonight.

You ran your hand behind Momo, searching for the tip of the zipper and trailing it down to her lower back. There were supporting straps included in her outfit to add stability of its grip to her body and you unbuckled those too; exposing her back to the cold air filling the entire room.

Holding the two folds of her suit, you seperated it further to allow her to slip off the straps in her shoulders. The cups of her pure black laced bra barely managed to contain her large mounds  that were irresistible for you not to salivate with.

Her well-built abs displayed on her midsection were also unveiled as you go deeper from sliding off her garment. Her top is now hanging below, noticing that it was caused by her shorts not removed yet from her waists.

You inserted your fingers inside the waistband and pulled it downwards, as she is now in her matching black panties as well.

Finally making her half naked, you hanged her dirty clothes at the door and admired the view of her incredible body for a while.

"Enjoying the view? Can you believe it that these are all... for you to use if you want to feel good?"

"Fuck, I couldn't even depict if I'm dreaming right now or not." You muttered as you shuddered at her sultry tone. "This is so unreal."

"Come and find it out then." She smickered as you stepped forward on her. Momo took the turn to strip all your clothes until you were left with nothing but your boxers outlining your fully erected cock. She couldn't help but to bit her lips at how fascinating it looks.

"You're so big. I can't wait to feel it stuffed in my mouth." Momo muttered as she lowered her sight. She looked back up to you and embraced each other up again with her pulling your face close to hers as you wrap your arms around her waist.

As both of you make out, her supple breasts were now squished to your chest as you leaned more to her. You grabbed those meaty ass of hers and slowly squeezed it as you feel her skin filling the gap of your hands.

"God, you look so freaking sexy Momo." You said as you looked at her magnificent figure in a black lingerie, effectively turning you on.

"I would really love for you to say that to me often." Momo giggled.

"Oh be assured with that."

Your hands roamed to her sides before it landed on her large boobs as you begun to massage and caressed it with your hands, feeling its softness and perfectly weight for it to bounce on your hold.

Grasping the lock between the two cups, you untangled it and opened her bra, revealing your gift as two bare delicious breasts greeted your eyes.

You licked your tongue and looked at Momo who is anticipating for you to do what's on your mind. "Go ahead, like I said. It's all yours."

Delighted at that permission, you fondled her obs before you finally get to discover its insatiable taste by suckling her hardened nipples and brown areola to her right breasts.

Not wanting to leave the other unattended, you palmed it with all gentle as you get to enjoy sucking her tits. Momo purred and ruffled your hair in a slow pace while taming you once again.

Circling and kisisng every spots of her right breast, you moved forward after to her left breast and did exactly the same; however you did something different this time as you flickered your tongue in her nipples and licked her underboob while your other hand travels down to her panties.

Momo felt your hand invading her wet cavern as you slipped in to her panties and inserted your slender fingers there. Now that you give attention to her crotch, she did the same as she holds your hardened shaft still imprisoned by the confines of your boxers.

She slowly stroked it as she moans with the movements of your fingers pumping in and out on her pussy while on the hand, you whimpered at the feeling of her strokes to your dick as your face is buried between her cleavage.

Kissing her neck and lips once more after you freed her breasts, you seperated your face away from Momo to allow her to kneel and lower down your boxers, finally revealing your huge cock that almost hit her face when it sprung.

"Mmm~ it even looks bigger at this angle." Momo said, licking her lips as she reached out and performed some strokes while your pre-cum streams down in her fingers.

You sighed and groaned as she played with your throbbing shaft more and more until she decided to have a taste of it by circling the tip and your head.

She moaned as she pumped her head more inch by inch to your length, making every skin not left stained with the mix if your pre-cum and her saliva. Licking and slurping as she traced your bulging veins of your impressive length, she curled her fists tighter to add more pressure on her strokes.

You glanced Momo doing a blowjob to you from above and moaned at the pleasure she has been giving you masterfully. Your satisfied sounds is what makes Momo to smile that she's doing the right thing.

She raised your cock and blew your testicles as she toyed it on her hands, your eyes largened at the new found refreshing feeling that Momo spotted. It wasn't a matter of time before your balls gets to join your cock on getting wet with Momo's slobbering mouth.

She sucked each of your balls while pumping your length as she stares above at you with her hungry pair of orbs before she returns to it and gave you an instant deepthroat, you grunted at the heat and the gags that envelopes and vibrated your manhood.

Lasting for almost 10 seconds later, she removed her face away from being almost buried in your shaved groin before she introduced to you next her another way of pleasuring your manhood.

Putting your shaft between her ample mounds, she used it to ejaculate you as your moaned grow louder at how the pillowy and comfortable feeling it sends to your body.

She stopped moving, silently instructing you to do it on your own this time. It motivated you to buckle your hips as you thrusted forward and out repeatedly with your cock still trapped between her jiggling breasts as she holds it steadily.

Momo felt your cock twitching and sensed it as a signal that you're now close to reach your orgasm. She joined your movements and now the both of you are cooperating to make you finally let loose until your cum has successfully spurted out to Momo's face, breasts and some in her hair.

It was too much that Momo had to scooped every stream of it and take it to her mouth to prevent it from being wasted. As she finished, Momo glanced at you and raised herself back up to equal your height.

"So delicious." She commented on the load you delivered for her. Letting you breath out to rest a bit from your orgasm, Momo decided to tell you something first to alarm you what she prefers to do next. "You get to taste me now, don't want you to be the one who gets left behind."

She sat in the toilet seat and spreaded her legs for you. You took the initiative to crouch down and plant you lips to her glistening folds as Momo whimpered at how you carefully spreaded her entrance.

Your tongue invaded her pussy and wiggled it against her insides. Momo moaned in ecstasy as she is now the one feeling how is it to be pleasured orally by her mate and lover.

Her arousal keeps on increasing as she gets to feel every bit of your lips and tongue moving in sync all around her walls while it traces the line of her slit. You even focused on her puffy clit and blew it before you kissed it repeatedly.

"O-ohhh my~ YN... Y-yes yes right there!" Momo cries out as she gripped your hair and pushed your face more to her cavern when she found out that you successfully hit her g-spot. Meanwhile, you observed that your lips and chin are getting wetter from her fluids leaking out.

Momo groped her own breasts to add the euphoria as you continued to tongue fuck her pussy and eat it in an increasing intensity. This reached the required method for her to began quivering her legs as she is now about to reach her orgasmic bliss.

Few more pumps from your fingers who just joined in a late timing while you licked her folds still, she gave her final howl as she squirted out her juices in your face while you attempted to catch some of it in your mouth for you to drink and have a taste of her too.

As she panted to rid out her newly arrived orgasm, you stood up and opened the shower head where the water is now flowing out to the floor. You lend a helpful hand to Momo and she accepted it with a smile.

Both of you shared a reassuring and caring eyes that you two always give for one another in your missions together before Momo nodded and gave you a proof that she is ready for this moment.

Knowing that she's all fine with this, you quickly went to work right away as you stood behind Momo who bended for you.

You slowly entered her body with your hardened cock and gently pumped it in to her welcoming hole before you get to hold each of her wrists and position yourselves in stand and deliver.

You groaned at the sensation as you pounded Momo from behind, her juicy ass rippling from the impact of your body bumping at her while she moans in pleasure at the feeling of your cock rubbing her insides.

She was amazed at how you immediately discovered her g-spot too early and now she has this lustful smile plastered on face as you kept on fucking her.

You amped your thrusts harder, sending Momo to purse forward. Her moans turns to screams as she truly enjoys the combined strength of your pounding and your largening cock drilling up her pussy.

"Fuck... fuck... FUCK! Oh my god you're so great in this, YN. I'm so-mhmmm-turned on right now!"

Sounds of claps from the collision of your wet bodies together goes louder, her hanging hair and breasts were both swaying and bouncing matching the pace of your cock lunging into her.

Few more rams to give into her and you shot out your second load out of her gaping hole, your cum landed all over back which didn't lasted long as it were all washed away by the water from the shower.

Momo noticed her body being carried back up with your hands grabbing underneath her shoulders as you stood her with her back facing your chest. She leaned onto it as she felt your hands knead her tits once again but with a slimy feeling as you added some liquid soap in your palm before rubbing it all over her skin.

As you covered her entire body with soap, Momo does the same for you. However, she left your lower part ignored for a while when you pulled her with you as you sat in the toilet seat and Momo understood the initiation real quick.

Your member pointed straight ahead at Momo's used pussy, assisting her to easily insert it back on her as she slowly sat in your lap with her cock filling her up again.

She rode you in a reverse sitting cowgirl, bouncing herself in a moderate pace while you returned on playing with her hypnotizing huge breast while grazing her puckered clit through your fingertips; sending her into the familiar sensation she just had earlier.

Adding it with some grinding of her hips, you moaned with her at how it feels so good having your cock going in different angles as it kept on thrusting inside her walls. Holding it as your substitute handle to maintain her balance, you nibbled around her nape as Momo whimpered at your soft lips gliding around her smooth skin as you continuously slammed her rear in your crotch.

You gripped harder into Momo, tightened fingers leaving some prints in her skin. She tilted her head and pressed her lips against yours, dueling for another sloppy kiss as she sucked and licked your teeth and sides of your tongue while you explored her mouth that will contrast to her lustful actions. You moaned with her on the kiss before you halted on fucking her moist pussy to remove her on your lap. That's for her to make her straddle your erection and face you now where she can easily kiss you back and for you to gnaw and suck on her hardened nipples after. "Ugh ugh nghh mmhphh I-I'm cumming! haah haah oh!" assorted noises escaped Momo's as the only thing she could react at your huge meaty girth pummeling her walls roughly, making her bounce extremely and voice go shaky until you let out your third wave of sticky cream spurting high enough to mess Momo's face, breasts and torso again.

In retribution, Momo also timed her squirt along with your cum release as her warm juices flooded your thighs and legs after you lift her up; a fair situation to occur.

There were footsteps that joined the sound of the running water from the shower as you and Momo noticed that there's two fellow members of their organization just entered the bathroom and mind their own business.

You paused to guard any obvious movements of theirs in case they might accidentally get caught red-handed so you and Momo had to be careful with this.

As you're about to be contented that none of them suspects anything as they continue to talk about a random topic not minding someone very near to them is taking a shower while secretly engaging to have a sex with a fellow comrade who is a sexy woman inside the cubicle, Momo surprises you when she steps behind you and grabbed your sensitive cock; awakening its hardness back as she strokes it.

"W-what the- Momo!"

"Ssh~ Be quiet if you don't want them to see us like this." Momo whispered in your ear. You failed to contain a moan in your mouth as she involves her another hand to roll your balls in her fingers while she proceeds to pump your length until it's erected again. "Just imagine, they take a peek and led theirselves to watch you getting jacked off by a fine lady like me. They'll be so jealous to be in your position. Do you even realize how lucky you are on winning the heart of a woman like me?"

She rotated you and stared at you with her cunning smirk, you shook your head at this new side of the seductress that you will be getting to meet frequently from now on whenever her horny state got activated.

As the loud voices of those two men decreases, signifying that they just walked out of the room and leaving both of you to be alone again, you took the opportunity to speak again to address what she just did.

"You're crazy for that, Momoring. I barely had to endure that." You said as you sighed deeply and looked at your manhood standing and poking her abs.

"That's what you do to me, YN." Momo winked and pinched your cheeks. "Let it all out on me, we'll go for last round then we can wash ourselves fully after."

"Alright. What do you want us to do next?"

"Hmm~ I want to try... this."

Momo raised her one leg and you hold for support as she stand with her other leg only planted in the tiles of the floor. She moved your cock closer to her entrance and you took that as a signal to slid into her, setting yourselves up in another new sex position in similarity of a ballet dancer through its required form of stance.

You kissed Momo on the lips as she wrapped her arms around your head while you rammed into her wet core mercilessly and aggressively to test how it will took Momo to give in.

Feeling her insides compressing your cock as you rocked her body back and forth, you let a muffled moan in tune with her own as both were feeling the pleasure invading their nearly drained bodies.

Momo was challenged to strengthen her grip into you as she is now raising both of her legs in the air when you lifted the other one before sending her in the wall to lean on while you cornered her on fucking her precious little tight pussy.

"Ooh ahh ungh Y-YN... I love this so much~ I knew it would be awesome when it's been done by you."

"Damn, Momo you're so freaking hot. Why I couldn't get enough of you."

"So as I! Give it all you got, YN. Don't be easy on me. Oh god I can't wait to do this with you everytime we want."

"As you say so, Momo. Fuck it feels so incredible!"

You drilled your cock into her pussy upwards as Momo insanely bounced in the intensity of the impact of your crotch clapping with her thick ass. Her moans and screams alternate until you interrupted her by shutting her damn noisy mouth with your rough kiss.

Another slow grinds and palming of her supple breasts to give yourself a short timeout before you returned the speed by thundering her loving hole with your maximized manhood.

Momo felt that twitching again in her velvety tunnel, knowing that you're close on your end. "D-do it inside! I want you to fill me up!"

"Are you sure? Is that safe?"

"Yeah positive. I took birth control earlier. Just trust me, please I want you to make me feel good for the final time."

The desperate pleads of your lover on making her satisfied and enjoy is too harsh to be denied. Strong few thrusts and your cock called it a wrap as it spasmed at the splash of wave flowed into her insides, giving her the first ever creampie from you.

Her face lit up and eyes shined white while she gaping her mouth in awe as you suckled on her tits one more to ride her orgasm away with your shaft still remained in her slimy pussy.

She loved how it absolutely makes her full as you couldn't even count how many times your cock gave ropes of pearly fluid that resulted in Momo to feel how it overflowed and broke out of her folds, your liquid streaming down in the sides of her fluffy thighs.

You slipped your cock out of her dominated core and helped her to sit on the toilet. You cursed in admiration at when the sight has became visible to you of Momo's lustful smile watching the continuous leaking of your seed out of her.

Both were slightly sweaty and spent at your first ever sex with her new girlfriend, you did a couple of inhale and exhale, planting both of your palms and lower your head as you breathe heavily.

"We did it so well..." Momo said as she scooped some of your cum and sucked her fingers with it to have a taste of its saltiness. "Our bodies were indeed compatible with each other."

"I'll take it as part of our destiny to be matched together." You chuckled and smiled unbelievably at Momo's never-fading dirty talks. "Stop doing that now, you're sounding like you want another one."

"What if I do?" Momo dared you as she crossed her legs and stares at you menacingly.

"I would like to give it to you, but no thanks. That's enough for tonight, Momoring. We have to take a proper bath now. Don't you want to rest?" You declined her dare as you stepped below the shower to wash yourself.

Momo saw your serious expression and pouted. "But I'm just kidding though. Don't be too serious." She replied as she went away from the toilet to join you.

You looked at her and assumingly sensed her worriedness and tensed emotion. She was focused on scrubbing her skin with soap when you turned her to face you and cooperate with you on another passionate kiss.

"I should be telling the same as you. Chill, okay? I'm not mad. It's just a joke, I know. I don't even see that for my blood to boil at you with just tiny thing such as that. I just love you so much Momo and I'll always think of what you feel for me." You patted her head and kissed her again in her peachy colored cheek.

"How sweet of you, YN." Momo blushed at your heartfelt words. She coiled her arms around you and glanced. "I'll do the same, ofcourse. Remember that now in our relationship, we'll be as one and it will stay like that for the rest of our lives. Whatever it takes for us to keep on surviving and defending ourself against the odds around us. I love you."

"I love you too, Momo. I will be your protector and romancer until time will tell us how we end."

"Till death do us part." Momo added and you nodded agreeingly at her truthful oath. You kissed again before continuing to freshen yourselves up on a cold bath to ensure your entire cleanliness.

You and Momo sneakily returned to your respective rooms and dressed up before rejoining again, as you proudly and joyfully cuddled with her to make your relationship official for anyone in the camp to see and determine the good news.

[priceyprice]

Prof!Price sitting down on his couch, watching through the window the heavy rain and the upcoming storm. He lifts his glass of bourbon to his lips, drinking a little and feeling the burning sensation trailing down his throat.

But that's nothing compared to the burn he has on his chest.

Price can't stop thinking if the decision he made about breaking up with her was the best. Yes, she's an adult and she's very capable of a lot of things, but for fuck's sake, she's his student. That's so dangerous.

If he's being honest, he doesn't care about his career as a professor. He already made a lot of things he wanted (not all of them since he hasn't proposed to her yet. That's one of his dreams.), he already made his career and pursued his future, but she’s just only starting hers.

She's studying so hard and giving all her will to the things she loves. He can't risk her passion and her career just for his selfish needs.

Selfish needs called love for her.

A week ago, one of the superiors found out that a professor had a relationship with a student. They fired the professor and expelled the student, her record being damaged with a warning of an inappropriate relationship with one of her professors.

Since then, Price couldn't stop thinking about his situation. If one of the superiors finds out about their relationship, everything's going to be over for her.

So he did what he thought was the best. Breaking up with her.

He called her to his office this morning, anxiety creeping up to his veins. When she stepped inside, his heart stopped for a moment. She looked so beautiful with her dress and her smile adorned with some blush over her cheeks. The sparkle in her beautiful eyes looked like The Starry Night.

He felt so guilty. He doesn't want to break up with her. Fuck, no. He was already planning how to propose to her when she graduates.

"Let's break up," he said without going around the bush. Direct, cold, and fast. Finally, he did it. He was going to end things with her for good.

But when he saw the look in her eyes, his world crumbled. She looked confused at first, but she realized what he said. The pain flashed within a second.

"What?"

"You heard me. Let's break up."

Since then, he couldn't get that burning feeling off his chest.

That void.

Now, he needs to get used to not hearing her giggles anymore or seeing her smile. Seeing how she walked in his apartment with only his shirt on. How his heart fluttered every time she kissed him. How soft was her skin. How she gasped his name every time he was pleasuring her.

Now he needs to get used to loneliness because he's pretty sure he can't find someone like her. He doesn't want anyone like her. He just wants her.

In the midst of his loneliness, three knocks grabbed his attention.

His eyebrows frown as he looks to the door. Who could it be at this hour? Maybe it's one of the tenants complaining about something again.

One time, when he was with his lover, one of the tenants knocked on the door to ask if he had water since there was an accident leaving a few tenants without water. He opened his door a little too wide, and the tenant caught a glimpse of the beautiful woman sitting on his couch, looking at them with confusion. Since then, the rumors about the hot and reserved professor having a beautiful girlfriend started.

Price slowly stood up from his chair and walked to his door. He turned serious. It could be an intruder trying to fool him.

Getting closer to the door, he looked through the peephole. His eyes widened in shock when he saw who it was.

It was her.

Price unlocked the door and opened it. His heart stopped for a second. Is his mind really playing tricks with him? Is he really seeing correctly? Maybe he needed a new prescription of glasses.

She looks up to his eyes. Every suspicion of her being a product of his imagination vanished like thin air.

There she was, standing in front of him. She was real.

"What are you doi-"

"We...We need to t-talk," she said, shivering. His eyes took a look over her figure, realizing she's drenched in water.

His face changed into one of worry. "Oh my God, love. You're freezing, come here." He grabbed her arm and took her inside his apartment, closing the door behind her. She exhaled a little, feeling the familiar coziness his apartment always gave to her. Even though she really loved that, she was not here for that.

He turned around and started to walk, "Stay here and take off your clothes. I'll be looking for a towel and one of your clothes in my drawe-"

"No."

He stopped.

Turning around slowly, he looked at her with confusion. Only to see anger in her eyes.

Oh. Right. They broke up.

He was so used to taking care of her that he almost forgot that detail just a second ago.

Price closed his eyes, sighing. "Look, I-"

"We need to talk." His eyes snapped open at her words. He could feel how his heart was beating heavy at his chest with her tone.

Her freezing body was now going back to its normal temperature, thanks to the anger consuming her.

"My love, calm do -"

"Fuck, don't call me that! And don't tell me to calm down when it was you who broke up with me without any explanation!" She said taking a step closer to him, drenching his floor with water, but both of them couldn't care less.

"I've been nothing but good to you! I've been a good student, a good friend, and mostly, I've been a good lover! I think I deserve a fucking explanation!" She's now standing in front of him, pointing at him with her index finger. "And I want to hear it now, John. Why are you breaking up with me?"

His heart started to beat faster with every step she took. Emotions are still alive and fresh, consuming every fiber in his body and reminding him who those feelings belong to. But what kept him down on his feet was her eyes. She looked so angry, so... hurt. And it's caused by him.

"I don't want to explain it. Please, let's just get you a towel and dry y-"

"Are you cheating on me? Did you find another student?"

"What? No!" He looked at her with his eyes wide and brows frown. There's no way in hell, heaven or earth he would've done such a thing. He preferred to die before cheating on her.

"Then why are you breaking up with me, John?!"

Price just wants to take everything back and tell her it's his fault. He wants to tell her that everything's going to be alright, take her in his arms, and continue his future with her. But he can't risk her future. If he tells her the risk and the consequences of their relationship, she would've ignored it and never left him. He knows her. He knows how much she loves him.

He needs to forget her. She needs to forget him and continue her life. And he's going to do so.

"Because I don't l-..." He sighed, trying to find the courage to resist his emotions and not spell the truth. "Because I don't love you anymore."

Her body froze. Her mouth hung open while she looked at him with her big expressive eyes. Her heart stopped for a few seconds. She's trying to process his words.

He doesn't... love her anymore?

She doesn't believe him. A few moments ago, he was calling her his love. And he wasn't looking at her.

Price is known for his confidence and the way he intimidates people with his electrifying blue eyes. But he wasn't looking at her right now.

So that means one thing, he's lying. She thought.

"You're lying."

His face went up. "No."

She laughs. "Yes, you are. You're not looking at me. You're lying."

He can't look at her. She's too good at reading him, and he's scared she's gonna find the real reason for his breakup.

But of course, she found out he was lying. She's a smart girl.

She's his smart girl.

"No, Look Lo-..." He closed his mouth, swallowing the word. "Look, I'm not lying. I don't love you anymore. Everything's over. We are over."

The strings of her heart were being cut off one by one.

No.

She doesn't want to believe him. He loves her. She's sure of it. She just needs to prove it.

He can't leave her like this.

So she took a step closer to him and smashed her lips with his.

Price looks shocked for a second, processing what was happening. His heart started to gain those familiar warm emotions again, racing like it was gasoline.

But on his mind was a voice screaming at him.

It was a trap.

She's testing him.

He couldn't make the same mistake again and start from zero, so with all his willpower, he grabbed her arms and pushed away, making her stumble in her feet. She looks at him wide-eyed into his eyes, only realizing the cold look. She saw emptiness, not even sadness or madness. Nothing.

He felt nothing.

Tears escaped, rolling down her cheek, and he almost, almost, lifted his hand up and wiped the tears away. Price hates it when she cries. He can't stand looking at her beautiful eyes glossy and teary, and of course, he hates it more when he makes her cry.

Fuck, this is going to be difficult.

Her breathing was faster each second. Her heart was so heavy on her chest that it felt like it was going to get out of her ribcage. Sadness starts to consume every cell in her body. "So you used me, right?! You... You got what you wanted. You get to bed one of your students, have fun with her, and then toss her like some piece of garbage?!"

He swallowed hard, but nothing could calm down his storm of emotions. The inner war he's having with himself.

Love,

"That's right..."

Please

"I used you."

I love you so much.

"I don't love you anymore. I never did."

I will never let you go.

"So get out of my house and my life."

I will remember you, my love.

"We're done."

: : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : : :

Just a little idea, and I'm sorry for a few crying hearts.

This is my second post, which I'm kinda new on this app. I apologize for some errors or misspelling. Any suggestions are appreciated. 🫶

[the-kr8tor]

Thread the needle

Thread the Needle Masterlist

Prologue >>> Chapter 1

God, you're so late for class. Your white sneakers squeak against the linoleum floor, feet running as fast as you can. Your hastily thrown backpack struggles to cling on to your arm. You regret going out last night, on a school night too.

Almost running past the classroom, your feet skid to a stop in front of the door. Taking a breather you take a second to fix your appearance, fixing your backpack properly, breathing out a puff of air, you mentally ready for the weird stares thrown your way once you open the door.

You open the door with a loud creek from the old hinges, cursing the metal for the loud intrusion. Grimacing from the sound, your eyes roam around the room, surprised to see that the professor's late too. You sigh in relief, sitting down in your station, you decide to clean up the mess that you left yesterday in haste.

While picking up loose threads, misshapen cloths and cluttered tools littered around your space, you accidentally listen in on a conversation.

"Did you hear? About our last project?"

"Yeah, I have a friend from the other class, heard it's a doozy. Can't believe Mrs. Williams' making it forty percent of our final grade "

Unbelievable, you thought. And here you go thinking that taking fashion as your major was gonna be easy. You sigh, pondering what kind of next stress is gonna befall you.

Suddenly the door opens with a loud creaking sound– your ever fashionable professor saunters in, clad in her stiletto heels, posture perfect and neck always covered in pearls. God, you want to be her when you grow up.

She stands tall in front of the whiteboard.

"Since this is your last two months here, I'm gonna make this last project the biggest and hardest one you've ever done," she doesn't beat around the bush, going straight to the point, speaking in her posh accent, making elegant gestures as she talks, "This final project will be sixty percent of your final grade, therefore if you fail this you might not graduate this year"

Various sounds of protests can be heard around the room, some groaning in pain, others straight up scream in anguish, but you just look at Mrs. Williams like she grew a second head.

Sixty percent?! This close to graduation? Does she not want anybody to graduate? You think, biting your tongue just in case it slips out.

"You've gotta be joking Mrs. W!" A classmate of yours shares your sentiment.

"Do I look like I'm someone who makes jokes, Flash?" The professor raises a neat eyebrow, side eyeing your classmate.

Fuckety, fuck fuck. You internally swear. This is so much worse than forty percent. Outside you might look calm but inside you feel like spontaneously combusting right there on your chair.

Mrs. Williams stares at her class silently. The entire room feeling the dark aura she exudes, they all clam up immediately.

"The project - find someone, I do not care if you're already close, or you're strangers to each other. Just someone who's willing to model for you-"

"For the record everyone, I'm available" Flash interrupts the professor, with one look from her, he sits back down defeated and embarrassed.

"This project requires you to make an outfit," she continues, staring daggers at your classmate "not just any other piece you have ever made. You have to cooperate with your model, in creating it."

That's easy enough you thought, you've already worked with models before, like changing some aspects of the clothing to match their sizes, and changing some designs if they're not comfortable wearing it.

Mrs. Williams raises her index finger, "This outfit, it has to encompass the both of you, so it's a requirement, a necessity, to pick a model that has an entirely different style from you"

Different style? Your mind goes to him immediately, with his heavy leather boots, spiked accessories, and overall Punk aesthetic, compared to your fluffy cardigans, sneakers and plain button ups. He's perfect for this project. The only problem is how in the world are you gonna convince THE Hobie Brown, your best friend of ten years, to model in front of the entire graduating class.

Mrs. Williams' voice brings you back to the present. "They, whoever you pick, must be willing to fully participate in making, and modeling it. They don't even have to be a student here, all that matters is that the final product must be a perfect blend of both yours and their style"

Flash raises his hand this time "How would you know that they have a different style from us?"

"Next meeting you must bring them, and" she emphasizes the last word "a picture of them with a timestamp from a year or two ago, this prevents cheating. And if I ever find out that you edited the photo's timestamp, don't even think about graduating"

"Um, ma'am, when are we presenting it?" A brave classmate of yours raises their hand.

"You have a month to work on it, the show will be three weeks before graduation, if you'll even be qualified for it"

You swallow down your anxiety at her last comment. Bringing Hobie in class will be a bitch and a half itself. You're already thinking about how to convince him.

"And remember this project fosters teamwork and cooperation with each other. Do not forget it has to be a perfect blend, not some smorgasbord of an outfit." The professor adds.

Great, now armed with the great task of convincing Hobie, you think, if he still owes you a favour, maybe you can call it in for this.

[milkywaydrabbles]

Oh, sorry for make you feel uncomfortable! :( then that request but with Eren, Levi, Armin and Floch! Sorry again

A/N: omg no it's okay I appreciate the new characters! This was wildly different of what I usually do since I normally don't write AoT as much as I used to but this was fun! I think Floch is a bitch so I wrote him mean but I think it worked out LMFAO. Hope you enjoy mwuah

CW: smut, degradation, oral (m!receiving), lots o cum.

Bukkake x Eren, Levi, Armin, Floch

"Open your mouth wider, baby—fuck—there we go" Eren groaned above you, stuffing his cock into your mouth with no regards to how you gag around him "Such a good little bitch in heat." You looked up at him doe eyed, trying your best to take him down your throat. You have to remind yourself to breathe through your nose as you do, taking Eren wasn't easy.

"Oi brat, don't stop moving your hand." Fuck. You had gotten too distracted, focused more on Eren than the captain Levi and company that was also here in the room with you. You had no idea how you got here, couldn't remember the conversation well enough when all you could think of were the men around you and their dicks (im)patiently waiting for you to please them. You popped off Eren's cock just enough to murmur a "sorry, captain" before he grabbed the back of your head and shoved you down again. "Be a good little fleshlight and stop talking."

"Eren, you're being too hard on her." Ah, the only saving grace in this entire room. Sweet Armin, patient with you as you slowly pumped his dick with your other hand. You looked at him as best you could, throwing a thankful glance as you tightened your hand around him jerking him with more vigor. Armin whines above you, hips stuttering and meeting your tempo. "Fuck, it feels so good, honey. Don't stop" it was always so easy to make Armin feel good when he was so receptive.

You heard a click of a camera go off, before glancing in the direction of the flash. "You'll look so good as my phone background, what a little slut." Floch laughed, turning his nose at you. He was always the meanest to you, no matter how rough Eren would be or how harshly Levi would stare at you, they always took care of you after your escapades. But Floch was always cruel.

It made your pussy clench with need.

You moved your hands in tandem, music ringing in your ears in the forms of moans and panting, dampening your underwear as you knelt on the ground. You wanted more than anything to be able to touch yourself, but you had to get them ofd before they would take care of you. Eren threw his head back before letting out a wanton moan, both hands burying into your hair and shoving you down onto his dick. You did your best not to choke as he face fucked you. "You like that, slut? You wanna be my little cum dumpster huh?" You moaned around his length with a nod before hearing another click of the camera and a laugh. "Gonna paint your pretty little face." Eren jerked away from you right before cumming on you. Ropes of sticky white landed on your face, dripping down your cheeks and forehead.

"Fucking finally my turn." You barely got to breathe before being shoved down on another cock. Floch was never one to beat around the bush. He got to shoving himself down your throat even worse than Eren. "Only way you ever look good is with my dick in your mouth" he sneered.

"Fuck, not gonna last long" a mumble to your right: Levi. You want him more than anyone else to cum, feeling accomplished in making your captain feel good. You pumped his length, smearing the pre cum over his tip and giving yourself more lube to glide over his dick. "Fuckfuckfuck" he stuttered, his cum landing in your hair and side of your face. He stepped away from you after he was done, nearly in disgust.

The camera flash went off and you looked up at Floch, recording you now. "Come on baby, don't you wanna be good for us? Look at you, covered in cum from different men like the whore you are?" You whimpered, trying your best to keep up with his thrusts down your throat and still giving Armin the attention he deserves. "Fu-ck, Floch you're worse than Eren" still having your back no matter what. "I'm so close honey, fuck just like that" Armin speaking so nicely to you almost made you whimper. Although being degraded always had an effect on you, hearing his sweet words made you want to do better for him. You pressed on and continued to jerk him off until he was whining mess and came on your left side, almost covering your whole face with cum.

Floch gripped your roots at the top of your head trying to avoid any cum as he did so. "Now you're my bitch, open up wide" he taunted, pulling out just enough so the tip of his cock was placed on your tongue and shot cum over your nose and eyes, slapping and smearing it over your tongue and mouth. "Stick your tongue out and smile at the camera baby" you did your best to do so, disoriented at the bright light and how lightheaded you were with all the attention you received. He turned off the camera and Armin petted your head. "Why don't we get you cleaned up and take care of you like you did us, hm?"

"And send me that damn video."

"Yes, captain."

[euphreana]

The Shape of Truth - Chapter 7: Unit 531

Masterpost

-

Knightly Storage required a passcode to get in. The key tag hadn’t included that - it just had the name and unit number; 531. And 531 wasn’t the code.

The storage building was a tall, stone structure with a side entrance hidden from the street by some towering bushes. An awning over the door blocked the rain as Ambrosius stared at the keypad next to the doorway. Nimona, next to him, shifted into a hulking humanoid with large hands.

“We could break in.” She said with a grin, flexing an arm.

Ambrosius rolled his eyes.

“That would be illegal.”

Nimona smirked and shifted back to a teen.

“As if today wasn’t already toeing the line.”

“We didn’t… break any laws.”

“Sure. We just bent them a little.”

“Exactly. A knight must uphold the rules that keep us in order.”

Nimona groaned.

“Come on… don’t tell me you haven't broken at least ONE rule at least ONCE in your life.”

Ambrosius still looked unamused.

“Even if I did, I wouldn't be telling YOU about it.”

“Aw, why not?”

“Because I still don't know anything about you! I don't even know how old you are, or if ‘Nimona’ is even your real name!”

Nimona was silent while Ambrosius tried to figure out the door code, punching in several numerical combinations off the top of his head. The keypad flashed red each time.

Nimona’s voice broke his concentration.

“They never told you how your dad really died, did they?” she said, seemingly out of nowhere.

Ambrosius gave her a side glance.

“What in Gloreth's name are you talking about?”

“I mean you were just a kid - they didn't want you to think he was a bad man or anything - nothing you could possibly blabber to the wrong person about. They told you he went out for a few drinks with his knight buddies, got plastered, and then walked in front of a speeding truck, right?”

Ambrosius looked wary.

“That's... what happened.”

“That's what they WANTED you to think happened. That's what they wanted EVERYONE to think happened. They couldn't let Gloreth's name get dragged in the mud, could they?”

Ambrosius didn’t look convinced.

“So you're saying there was a coverup.”

"I'm saying you never saw him drunk before, did you?”

“I don’t remember. Maybe?”

“Believe me, you didn’t.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m telling you - I’m full of information about your family.”

Ambrosius turned back to the keypad.

“Aaaand now you're just sounding creepy. One less reason for me to trust you.”

“Think about it though! The man never got drunk. So how did he get so tipsy that night he didn't see the truck coming?”

“There’s a first time for everything.”

“Hey, you don't have to take my word for it - with your rank, you can go to the medical records building and see the original coroner's report for yourself.”

Ambrosius typed in another combination.

“Maybe I will. Or maybe I won't. What difference would it make? He’s still dead.”

The keypad flashed red again. Ambrosius sighed. He was quickly realizing he could stand here all day trying different combinations and none of them work. He waved a hand towards the other side of the building.

“Come on, let’s go to the office.”

“I still vote ‘break in’.”

Ambrosius gave her a weary look. Nimona held her hands up.

“I mean bend, not break.”

~ ~ ~

There was already a woman arguing with the clerk when Nimona, now matching Ambrosius’s height and age, entered the office, followed by Ambrosius himself. Fortunately, there was another worker passing by whom Nimona was able to flag down.

“Heeeeeey… I totally forgot the passcode for the door. Could you let me in?”

The worker pointed to the desk.

“Sure, just show them your ID.”

“ID… yeah… you know, I think I left it at home. I just ran over here to get something” she dangled the storage key in her hand.

The worker gave a forced smile.

“Talk to the desk.”

They both looked at the discussion at the desk. It didn’t look like it was going to end soon.

Nimona held a hand up, “Come on, me and my brother just need to grab something real quick.”

“Talk to the desk.”

“What if I slid you a 20 goldpiece?”

“Talk to the desk.” The worker pushed past her, off on their own errand.

Nimona glanced at Ambrosius with a look that said ‘ok we tried it your way and it didn’t work.’ Ambrosius shrugged and jerked his head towards the desk. This could still work - his own ID would draw attention, but maybe Nimona could work something out.

“For the last time, we can’t let you use acid on the lock!” The clerk behind the desk was saying, “You either find your key or find a licensed locksmith to remove the lock for you.”

The woman in front of the desk waved a hand desperately.

“But what if—”

“We can recommend a locksmith for you if you don’t want to do the footwork yourself.”

“— I fill the lock with water, and then freeze it! Water expands when frozen, so the lock should break right off!”

“Miss Bitsmore, there are other people waiting in line behind you.”

“It’s Blitzmeyer! Meredith Blitzmeyer!”

“Miss Blitzmeyer, would you like the number for the locksmith or not?”

“I’m telling you, I can’t afford a locksmith! My lab burned down and I’m living off savings!”

Ambrosius’s ears perked up. The initials from the sword invoice flashed in his mind. MB!

The clerk didn’t miss a beat, sliding a business card across the desk.

“You can find the number here. Let us know when you plan to come. Next!”

The woman waved her hands in exasperation and stomped out the door, not bothering to take the card. The clerk tapped an intercom button on the desk.

“Hey, keep an eye on unit 531 - we might get someone trying to break into it.” Then the clerk looked up at Nimona. “Can I help you?”

Nimona gave a toothy grin.

“Heyyyy, I need to get in but I forgot the passcode. My ID is—”

Ambrosius hurried forward and grabbed Nimona by the arm.

“Hey you know what? I think I remember where you left your ID!” He pulled her toward the door. “Come on!”

~ ~ ~

It had started to rain in earnest now. Meredith Blitzmeyer walked hands-free, umbrella balanced on her shoulder thanks to the weights built into the bent shaft and handle. She'd designed that part herself, and more.

“Excuse me missus umbrella lady...”

Meredith looked down to see a small boy suddenly standing in front of her. He was dressed in tatters and looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“I can't find my mommy... She went through that scary alley over there.” the child pointed, shivering in the rain. “Could you help me find her? Pwease....?” He looked up at her with sad puppy eyes.

Meredith glanced around. There were other people walking down the street, but nobody was stopping to see if the child was alright. Nobody except her. She sighed.

“Come on, let’s find your mom.” She took the child by the hand and started down the alleyway.

She hadn’t gotten far before she sensed someone else behind her. She glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough, there was a tall, hooded figure barely a meter behind her. Of course. Meredith could have slapped herself for being so gullible.

The hooded figure reached out, but Meredith was faster. Before either the child or the stranger could react, she’d swung her umbrella off her shoulder, collapsing it and shoving the end into the stranger’s chest. A crackle of electricity rippled through the air and the hooded figured dropped like a stone.

Meredith broke into a run. The street was close. Just a few meters… A beastly snarl echoed down the alley as a set of jaws clamped around her leg, yanking her to the ground. Meredith tried to get back up, but the grip on her leg wouldn’t let go. It started to drag her backwards, away from the street, back into the dark alley.

The electrified umbrella was still in her hands. Meredith turned and swung it at the beast, electricity arcing at its tip. She almost hit it. It let go of her instead, ducking out of the way. That was all the time she needed to get back to her feet. But before she could run, the hooded figure slammed into her, knocking her back to the ground. Then the beast - a large, pink wolf - grabbed the umbrella in its jaws and yanked it away.

Meredith blinked in surprise. Pink? The next thing she knew, the hooded figure had rolled off her and the wolf was towering above her, teeth bared.

A man’s voice rang out, angry.

“Who are you working for?!”

The question caught Meredith by surprise.

“What?!”

“We know you ordered the sword!”

“I didn’t—”

“We have paperwork - with your initials on it! You had the sword - the sword that killed the queen - the sword that framed Ballister, that got him killed…” The man’s voice broke.

Meredith tried to look at the source of the voice, but the wolf growled at the slightest movement. The man found his voice again, wavering as it was.

“I should turn you in now. There’s enough evidence here. That’ll be enough to prove his innocence, and then… then…”

The wolf spoke in a female voice.

“Hey, keep it together man. We’ve got an interrogation here.”

Meredith, fully bewildered by now, broke in.

“I didn’t do it! They ordered the sword in my name and then burned down my lab when I said I wouldn’t put the blaster in it! …. I can show you the emails!”

The man sank to his knees next to her. Meredith got a look at his face.

“Wait, you’re the Goldenlocks guy!”

Ambrosius didn’t bat an eye.

“Yeah. Something like that.”

“Ohhh no… I- I didn’t do anything wrong! I swear I thought I was designing mining equipment! Good Gloreth I talk too much…”

“Why didn’t you say something after they arrested Ballister?”

“I thought he was the one who’d ordered the sword! I- I didn’t want to get in any more trouble!” Meredith blinked several times under her glasses. “They already killed my friends in the fire…”

There was a long silence. Then the wolf spoke again.

“You think she’s telling the truth?”

“Not all of it.” Ambrosius turned back to Meredith. “You said there were emails. Show me.”

Meredith hesitated.

“Ah, you see, I don’t have my work email on my phone - I use my laptop for that. And I left that at home.”

Silence. Meredith spoke again.

“So if you could let me go….”

“We found this at your old lab.” Ambrosius said, holding up the misplaced storage key.

Meredith’s eyes grew wide. Ambrosius pocketed the key and continued.

“Meet us at the library. We’ll be in a study room under the name ‘Goldenlocks’. Bring the laptop. Otherwise I toss the key and give the sword invoice to Security.”

“But… I have somewhere to be…”

“You have two hours.”

Meredith looked like she wanted to say something else, but thought better of it. She didn’t want to get on the bad side of a noble, much less a knight. She nodded instead.

The wolf backed up. Meredith scuttled backwards, grabbing her umbrella and getting to her feet. She paused to brush the water from her clothes.

"If I can ask... You said you thought Ballister was framed. Why? Didn't he confess to the murder?"

Ambrosius hesitated.

"I don't think that confession was from him. It didn't... sound like him."

Meredith gave an unimpressed “Oh,” then flicked her umbrella open and hurried back to the street. Still in the alley, Nimona shifted back to dog form, suddenly dry as she ducked under an overhang. Ambrosius turned away, rubbing his eyes. Nimona looked up at him.

“You okay, boss?”

Ambrosius didn’t look at her.

“… It was just yesterday. They published the confession at noon, and he was dead before sunset.” He leaned back against the wall. “I didn’t even get to see him...”

Nimona sat next to him, pressing her furry head under his hand. Ambrosius reflexively ran his fingers through her fur, appreciating the softness. He cracked the faintest smile. So that was what having a dog was like.

Next Chapter

[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 1 Pt. 23 (So Much Romance!)

While Everett and Heather loved spending nights counting stars at Lord Volpe’s old ruins, Kris and Holly had a favourite spot of their own inside the picturesque national park. The night before the Easter break, they hiked into the hills, to the cliff’s edge of Cordelia Falls for endless views south toward acres of green and gold farmland. Spring rains made for a muddy trek to the top, but Kris was determined. He’d planned this day for almost a year and thought about it even longer.

In all their years together, Holly and Kris had talked about their future many times, but now that they were coming to the end of their high school years, he was ready. He’d saved up for the ring and got down on one knee while Cordelia Falls sent a misty spray into the air behind him. Holly was elated. She said yes before they ‘christened their engagement’ right then and there in the woods behind a hydrangea bush. They couldn’t get enough of each other, and her family was thrilled by the engagement. They’d always loved Kris, and looked forward to the day he became an official member of their family.

The Nesbitts arrived in San Myshuno a day early for Karl and Mortimer’s wedding, helping with last minute preparations and bringing Mortimer’s aging great-aunt, Agnes Crumpcakes, with them from Henford. Type-A Mortimer was running around and stressed, and to escape the mood inside, Karl and Heather found a chess table in a park away from the others. Though they’d only known each other a few years, Karl stepped up as an uncle as soon as he met his nieces and nephew. He was silver-haired now and wouldn’t have kids of his own, and he took his second chance at family seriously.

Heather could be open with him about her terrible romantic choices. He could relate somewhat and assured her she would find the man she was meant to be with some day. If it could happen to him, a guy who felt he’d done little to warrant his recent great fortune, for a girl like Heather who wanted to save every animal in Simlandia, he said it was guaranteed.

Like fate, no sooner had he said it than Heather locked eyes with a teenager across the park plaza. He had short blond hair and flashed Heather a crooked smile, which she returned with a sheepish glance behind her glasses before he walked over to meet her. He said his name was Malcolm, and they talked for most of the afternoon while Karl pretended to practice his chess moves at a close distance. They exchanged numbers, and he sent her a flirty text the morning of her uncle’s wedding.

She smiled gleefully to herself as butterflies danced in the pit of her stomach, but something about Malcolm seemed off. Though she was an open book and told him all about her family’s success with Nesbeets, when she saved his number to her phone, she realized he’d never given her his last name. She started second-guessing her new feelings almost immediately, especially as she thought about Everett and Bob and Lucas Munch and her less-than-stellar romantic track record. But was it Malcolm she didn’t trust, or was it herself? It’s not like she’d asked him for his last name, anyway. But today was her uncle’s wedding, and she shook off her unease to celebrate with the Goths and her family.

Would Malcolm be the key to Heather's romantic future, or would her longtime feelings for Everett stand in his way? ->

<- Previous Chapter | From the Beginning

[fairykazu]

06. a date or not a date? that is the question

after the session was over, kazuha offered if you wanted to go to the cafe. although, you were told to stay low with kazuha, you couldn't help but take this chance with kazuha since you haven't seen him in years. "i'll take your offer but on one condition," you replied, smiling. kazuha nodded, waiting for you to continue.

"we have to wear disguses. i don't want to have another 'scandal'." you groaned. kazuha noticed that you referenced the scaramouche drama, chuckling to himself. "so, what kind of cafe are you taking me to?" you asked as the blonde interwined his hands with yours,

"the tabby tearoom, of course."

"i love the tabby tearoom! we used to go there all the time during highschool," you gushed, the memories filling your brain as it flooded in.

the two of you walked out of your apartment, unaware of the camera flashing in the bushes. you were in a brown wig although it didn't fit as well as it did before. kazuha was adorning his usual mask and baseball cap combo. "do you remember when yoimiya brought her boyfriend there when they were crushing on each other and fumbled?"

"i do! well, technically, she didn't fumble because he asked her out. but they were kind of hard to watch."

"it hurt watching them trying to flirt."

"i know right! i was begging them to be together already."

when the both of you arrived, a gray little cat arrived and leaped onto your lap, your eyes nearly filled to the brims with tears. "oh my archons, this little kitty is so cute." you held it up, facing your face in the process, "kazu, isn't this kitty so cute?"

i think you're so much cuter. but he kept that thought in the back of his head, agreeing with you, "yes, the cat is really cute." once the little cat was out of your embrace, it leaped towards kazuha instead. you cried,

"nooo! mr.... kazuha, what's the kitty's name? i forgot to check his tag."

"his name is... kuni?" kazuha said, confused. where has he heard of this name before?

"sooo cute!" you said, gushing, leaning over to pet the gray cat in kazuha's arms.

the platinum blond pulled away from you, much from his own demise since he had realized where he remembered the name from. "not cute," kazuha picked up the golden tag around kuni the cat. "his full name is kunikuzushi, which translated into 'country destroyer."

"he's still really cute! i would let him destroy the whole country of europe."

"that's a continent." kazuha corrected, seeing you wilt a little.

you tried to reply just as fast and witty, "who wouldn't let mr. kuni destroy europe?"

kazuha wanted to disagree since continent and a country aren't the same but the little hope in your eyes, hoping that you'll win this argument. he faltered to your sweet smile, you knew that was your secret weapon, didn't you? "you're right. he deserves to destroy the continent... i mean, country of europe."

"thank you!" you picked up kunikuzushi from kazuha's arms, sliding on the bench with kazuha. "now, kuni, say 'thank you' to kazuha." making your voice pitched,

"thank you, kazuha!"

"no problem, kuni." he said, playing along with your joke.

"wait, kazuha, i think i have to go." you said with a little frown. kazuha just wanted to lift that frown upside down, seeing you frown was like the sky beginning to fall off of the atmosphere.

"why is that?"

"i have to record somethin' for the little star twins."

"ahhh, okay, goodbye!" he said, waving and making the little cat wave too.

you looked back and laughed, "you two are so cute!"

they called me cute...

celeste

masterlist | prev nxt

a new and upcoming soloist was coming into the world of tevyat. but wait… isn't that one of the triple stars?! y/n was apart of the trio band called "triple stars" with aether and lumine. but due to mysterious reasons, they left the group with no explanation. however, they have come back with a new name: celeste

notes: - dc (divider credit): @\bunnysrph

taglist: @pyrrhicgaze @d4y-dr3am3r @murderisokayforme @aeongiies @florakis @luvnoya @mellowknightcolorfarm @elikyeet @4leyn3 @imkaaayy @xiaosonlybeloved @kavxikitty @jayxncya @sakiimeo @theblueblub @whipped-for-fictionals @ynverse @eunchaeluvr @rifran @meowmeowmau @sweetstrawberrybabe

[obsessedwhim]

Made It!

Alarms blared meanly through dreams that felt more like memories, but the brain in the sleepy soup was quick to recall that it was, in fact, a Thursday, and at around 09:00 AM is when one would be considered late for school.

And so the screams of anxiety caused your limp body to flash your veins with energy. It wasn't too long before a storm of quilts, teddies, and pillows were thrown into the air as your worried-filled yelps followed you through your morning routine.

A handful of No's littered your teeth brushing time. The pooling denial kept with you as hair was combed and shoe lacers were tied into untieable knots- but that was something that could be dealt with once the familiar shoe locker arrived in sight.

You yelled your departing words to mumbling parents who could barely catch your sweet farewells due to the bell on your bike ringing. The handlebars of the mobile device slipped from your sweaty palms and fell to the path ahead of you and a few toes were caught by the balancing rods, after a moment of hopping around you grabbed at the hurtful handles and yanked your steed upright. "Alright, time to go!"

One foot after the other you bullied your way through the bustling streets of Kurrakara Town and gained speed as tactfully scattered hills bolstered your pace, much to the disdain of the street-walking folk but there would be nothing that could slow you down!!

Aside from a few alarms not making their daily marks.

Streets grew narrow as shops and cafes were swallowed by homes aligned with bushes and clean fencing, familiar street signs caught your wide gaze and you took a sharp turn. Holding your wrist before you where a digital watch blinked at you with the current time, "Yes! I bet we won't be late Today!" A cheer came, your toothy grin growing as you wheeled closer to a familiar family business. A teen stood in front of Kurakara's classic Kurosaki Clinic, with the classic Kurosaki Frown.

"You're late" The skinny ginger raised a brow at your arrival and you couldn't help but scrunch your curved eyebrows into a mean profile. After all that hard work peddling through busy streets, holding back laboured breaths that wheezed through your lungs.

"Fine then, walk to school like some sort of.. peasant!" You threw your nose in the air and readied to ride yourself away to a perfect arrival record. Before any of your loan pedals could begin the being next to you couldn't help but throw his prayers high in the air, begging for patience.

"Alright already, I'm sorry" Ichigo's eyes rolled as he made himself comfortable on the pegs added to each side of the back wheel.

The young man threw his bookbag on top of your own in the front basket before grabbing your shoulders lightly. Thank goodness he thought you were tensing from being spooked.. because it certainly wasn't because his fingers dug into the small space between your shoulders and collarbone. Big eyes stole a glance at his lengthy fingers which doubled at the shortness of your own.

"Heeeey, hurry up already" Ichigo shook you by the bones of your torso "I don't want my Dad seeing this"

You thought you made it up, but once your vision had seen his cheeks keep their red stain there would be no way to hide your laugh as you hightailed yourself and your bike buddy to the very gates of hell. The same gates that you would soon be biking away from in but a few mere hours. Ichigo's fist shook as he growled about your dangerous driving, swallowing his rage to gulp once the last and largest hill of your journey began curving from the horizon. "H-hey, we're not going down there, right?" his squeaky break came from behind and your brain lavished the thought of Ichigo's skin growing pale from the nerves, but when his wide gaze met your glance it was too late before your precious tyre slipped over and nose-dived down the concrete fall.

Nimble arms wrapped around your head as you threw one appendage into the air, the other wrang at your delightful bell. Laughing as you both began slowing with your bright gaze blinking through the gap of Ichigo's circling grip. "See? We made it and school gats haven't even shut yet!" Your muffled voice came from your man-made cave and you pointed at the metal frames keeping still at the side of Kurakara highs opening. "We just gotta speed up!"

"No, no! No speeding up!" Came the boy's quirky yells, arms still around you as the wind picked gentle drops from the ginger's tear ducts. His tears littered the finishing line as you both pulled up to the front door where many students murmured about the following dirt cloud that lifted from your total gnarly drift.

"Wow, ain't nothing quite like a bike ride to wake ya up, right 'Chigo?"

A squeak came from the teen's closed throat, paused in his moment of fear before the familiar sounds of students made it past his ruptured eardrums. "You Drive Like a Crazy Person!!" Ichigo pointed his longer finger at you with accusation after accusation tumbling from his furious lips, but before any real statement could be made the devilish ring of school time bellowed through the building.

Popping upright from chaining your steed to the bike rest you clicked finger guns at your furious friend, "But we made it"

"That's not The Point!"

[vulpes-fennec]

Happy Day 5 (Feelings Realization) of @sjmromanceweek!!!

Pairing’s mentioned: Itharion, Chaorian, Jassa

I couldn’t resist making a couch ad since SJM seems to love using chairs as a vehicle for love 😈

Dearest reader, this author has been fondly keeping up with the latest season of Fangs and Bangs. Especially now that Ithan Holstrom, famed Lunathion sunball player, has made his acting debut as a charming guitarist starring opposite a seductive singer, played by the handsome Tharion Ketos. 

The chemistry between the wolf shifter and mer was off the charts during the first three episodes. Indeed, the two sparked dating rumors after being spotted strolling along the Istros riverwalk (well, Tharion was swimming, his coppery tail illustriously flashing in the sun) and eating lunch in the Moonwood district the last few weeks. 

Such rumors were confirmed last night at the White Raven, where Ithan (drunkenly) shouted, "if my boyfriend wins this dance battle, next round of drinks are on me!" With the mer being known for their flexibility, it is no surprise that Ithan left the club with Tharion hand-in-hand and a sky high credit card charge. 

One might argue that "Itharion" is a fake dating situation used to generate press for the new season. Others, like this author, firmly believe that the feelings developed as a result of long hours on set were simply realized after spending time together off camera. 

With Fangs and Bangs being shot and aired on a weekly basis, the finale is not set in stone. But it has come to my attention that producers are planning a romance arc between Tharion and Miss Natalia Paloma, who plays a vampyr songwriter in the show. With Natalia and the general public being staunch Itharion fans, this author hopes the writers may be persuaded to change the season's course before it is too late.

King Dorian Havilliard and Lord Chaol Westfall have been two peas in a pod since the tender ages of 8 and 12—historians will call them close friends. But the chasm that often separates platonic and romantic love can thin to a fine line, and this author has become privy to information that implies such line has been finally crossed. 

Gentle reader, you may recall how the flirtatious prince attended his fair share of courtly revels with the young Captain of the Guard in tow. Perhaps watching Dorian seduce all sorts of ladies had Chaol broodily wishing Dorian was flirting with him instead. Well, last month, the Hand of the King was in for a treat when he offered to organize his King's old paperwork, finding "Dorian Westfall" scribbled across several margins of palace tutoring notes. These precious records were dated to a decade prior, when Dorian was but 15 years old. 

This author surmises that the court ladies were not the only ones ogling at a shirtless 18-year old Chaol Westfall as he trained with Theodus Brullo, Adarlan's Weapons Master. But whatever the cause for Dorian's affections, one cannot deny the prince has continuously prioritized Lord Westfall above himself over the years. Whether it be backing off Aelin Galathynius (nee Celaena Sardothien) or repeatedly saving his friend's life using magic, Dorian's love for Chaol is steadfastly unquestionable. 

There is only one thing that comes to mind when mutual feelings are realized: "Now what?" The sensation is akin to reaching the crest of a hill, stomach tight with nerves and anticipation. It has come to my attention that the two will announce their engagement tomorrow at noon. King Dorian has been reviewing potential candidates to succeed Chaol in his role as the King's Hand, and Chaol has been busy settling into the royal chambers. Take that, historians! 

Adarlan is not the only kingdom with citizens eager to see their ruler wed. This author does not consider itself impatient, but it certainly has had enough of Queen Vassa and General Jurian beating around the bush. I am sure their bickering is equally grating on their foxy roommate's poor nerves. My condolences to him, but what does one expect by throwing a mad general into the cauldron and adding a firebird queen to the mix? Passion, dear readers, passion. Well-mannered folk may believe the best relationships are maintained with agreeable manners, but this pair will have them considering otherwise. After all, we need partners who can keep our egos in check! 

It is well known that the young queen has rejected multiple proposals from fair noblemen across the lands. After all, why settle for a pasty duke when you have a seasoned general always at your side? Before you accuse this author of being a hopeless romantic, consider: what is affection, if it is not scouring the markets for the queen's favorite birdseed and scratching all the hard-to-reach itches while she is stuck in her bird form (even if it is all done under a guise of teasing)? What is desire, if it is not peeping at the bathing general while perched on a tree branch, or nesting in his clothes (and thusly rolling around in his scent)?

Stubborn hearts may deny their feelings all they want, but this author wagers that forcing Queen Vassa and General Jurian in even closer proximity (a locked bedroom, perhaps?) will have them at each other's throats in a more sensual manner.

Dear Suriel, it has been centuries since the Valkyries have passed, so of course I had to drop in on the Valkyrie revival in my own court. My good friends roped me into the training session by pairing me with an Illyrian Valkyrie for a round of sparring. With her earthy brown eyes assessing me, her glossy hair fluttering in the wind, her full lips set with curiosity and determination...my heart was positively pounding! You can imagine that I tried to prolong the sparring session to the best of my ability.

To my surprise, the fierce Valkyrie became a blushing lady once we started conversing normally! I'll admit I was flustered, too. After learning how she enjoys drinking tea and reading smutty books, I plan to "drop in" again next week with a special edition novel. And maybe an invitation to high tea the following week, if all goes well. Oh, did you know that she also runs her own business? And it's a clothing store?!? Can this female get any more perfect? I think her wings are the loveliest out of all Illyrians. Actually, I think I may be in love. Help! All my love, Wine o'Clock

Dear Wine o'Clock, this is an advice column, not your personal diary! Help? It seems you are doing fine, when it comes to your courtship plan. But if you are in a tizzy over your newfound feelings...alas, there is no remedy to love sickness! But I am certain a delightful future is in store for both of you, if you catch my meaning. Cauldron bless you both, Suriel

Nolan’s Furnishings: couch BLOWOUT sale! Blow your back out on the hottest deals in Prythian! Pink couches, golden couches, red velvet fainting couches…you name it, we have it! Hear what our customers have to say about our couches: “plush enough for hours of lounging,” “sturdy enough to withstand sexual activities”

[sword-reborn]

A video recording. Watch it?

----

[ATTACHMENT: From the looks of it, the video is taken from Blake's pocket, their phone sticking out just enough to show you the chaotic maze of greenery that's become of Obsidia Park. Gigantic vines coil across the forest floor like serpents, and trees are even sprouting through the concrete road, entangling it in their roots. The angle makes it hard to see anything, but from what you can hear, it sounds like Kaita and Blake are trying to traverse the thick foliage together.

"Fucking-" Blake curses under their breath as they try to pry their way past a large root, but the plant continues to coil and squirm as if it's consciously resisting them. "Damn it, move!"

There's a flash of light as flames fwoosh from Blake's hand, setting the root ablaze. They stumble back, nearly knocking into Kaita as they watch the obstacle wither away to cinders.

"Arceus, Blake!" Kaita cries out, retreating from the vicinity of the remaining fire. "Be careful! Did no one ever teach you forest fire safety?!"

"I think we have more pressing issues at the moment, Kaita," Blake says through gritted teeth, stomping past the disintegrated root without any caution towards the tiny fires lingering on the ground beneath their feet. You can hear Kaita's far more careful footsteps follow after them.

"Well it's gonna become an even BIGGER issue if you torch this place down with us still in it," Kaita sighs as they press on. "One of the killing-us-all kind. If not that, then the getting-arrested-for-arson kind."

You hear Blake scoff and just ignore her. The two trudge on forwards through the labyrinth of twisting roots and branches, occasionally sending out their Pokemon to cut down a tree every now and again. At one point, Rotom levitates out from Blake's pocket, providing a clearer view of the surrounding area.

At one point, Blake comes to a stop, raising their head high in alert. They hold an arm out, telling their sister to stay back. "Hold on. Did you hear that?"

"Hear what-?" asked Kaita.

"There's voices up ahead."

Blake suddenly dashes forward through the dense vegetation, leaving Kaita behind and scrambling to catch up. "Blake, wait!"

They run for a long while, navigating swiftly over boulders, fallen logs, and vines, until Blake reaches what you suppose is the source of whoever it was they heard. They stop at a gap in the trees, crouching down behind a bush to watch in secrecy.

"You sure whatever you heard is over here?" Kaita huffs as she catches up, panting a little from running so fast. "This was a pretty freaking long ways away from where we-"

"Shh," Blake shushes her, and pulls her down to hide with them. Kaita furrows her brows and opens her mouth to protest, but is cut off by a voice from up ahead intercepting them.

"Pathetic."

Rotom whirls, and through the gap between the tree trunks you can see two figures standing up ahead. One, a girl with black hair tied back in a long ponytail- Victoria. The other, a cloaked figure whose facial features you can't discern very well from this point of view. All you can really make out are the bits of purple hair sticking out from beneath his hood. Before him, a Crobat hovers, glaring down the girl menacingly.

"Are you truly the best defense this wretched city can muster?" the man scoffs.

"Tch..." The girl clenches her fist. "I can't believe I lost so quickly- and after I was able to find Borealis, too..."

"Borealis?" Kaita mutters to their sibling. "Isn't that the guy the gym leaders mentioned?"

"To say you lost is a flagrant understatement," Borealis continues, sticking his nose up at the girl. "A more accurate description is that you barely managed to show up to the fight in the first place. Do not glorify your meager performance here with a result as if there were any competition to begin with."

He steps closer, standing at Crobat's side. "You are out of your depth. For you to come here was folly most moronic. What did you even think someone like you could accomplish?"

Victoria opens her mouth, her voice emerging shakily. "I-I thought, with the others..."

"The others, from which you've allowed yourself to be separated." Borealis taunts.

"To protect the city-"

"This city, which festers like a wound in the earth," He scowls, voice dripping with deep, utter disgust. "In both ends and means, you demonstrate naivete. You play pretend hero for the sake of ideals which have no basis in reality, and upon a foolish pride that even a misguided action is better than none."

You can see Victoria visibly shrink back at his words as he approaches closer.

"This was the only possible outcome."

There's a long pause. It looks like Victoria opens her mouth to argue back, but yet again, her enemy speaks over her. "Yet, what done is done. You cannot be allowed to report what you've seen today. Crobat?"

The four-winged monster hisses, narrowing its sharp eyes at Victoria as it awaits its trainer's command.

"We will take her some place secure. You'll find no shortage of time to reflect on your myriad of mistakes in captivity."

With a flick of the man's wrist, the order is given, and Crobat swoops in at the speed of sound. It happens so fast- Victoria lets out a shout as its claws dig into her shoulders, pulling her forwards towards Borealis.

"VICTORIA!" Blake shouts, springing to their feet. Without a moment's hesitation, they reach for their belt to grab a Pokeball, not even paying attention to who they're about to send out. They move to jump out of the foliage and ambush the hooded man, but at the last second Kaita manages to hold them back by grabbing the back of their shirt.

"Blake, don't-!"

The second they're yanked away, a wall of vines erupt forth from the soil, seconds away from ensnaring them had they not been pulled back. Blake falls back onto their rear, accidentally pushing Kaita down with them, and their eyes bulge in horror upon realizing the route to Victoria's rescue was sealed.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" Blake swears frantically as they rise to their feet. "Come on, we've gotta find another way around!"

"Blake, would you hold on-?!" Kaita shouts after them, scrambling back onto her feet to catch up with them as they make a dash into the dark looming up ahead.]

----

[greenbird809]

Ever wonder what it's like to drown? Story of opposites. There's peace in water. Like it's holding you, whispering in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away. But then, there's this thing... in your head, and it's raging. Lighting every nerve with madness.

The river was calm, gentle as it glistened in the pale moonlight. But it was cold. Jinx hissed and retracted her toe from its reflective surface.

She stood on the bank, fickle blades of grass tickled and stained her soles with dew. Her clothes lay in a messy pile beside her and the air was sharp against her naked ashy skin. The smell of ripe fruit from a nearby berry bush swirled and blended with the pollen in the air as it wafted up her nostrils with every sharp inhale. She wrapped her arms around her middle like a blanket.

What was she doing? Washing away her sins? Drowning? Saving lives by removing a problem?

With another ragged breath, she plunged her foot into the water. It came up to her knee and felt like being swallowed. She pushed further into the river until it was licking against her collarbone. A shiver wracked her body and a gasp escaped her lips. The voices were like static and she could almost see Silco standing opposite her, his image fuzzied and faded like a recording on a scratched disk. His eyes were full of care as he beckoned her further into his embrace and-

“What are you doing?”

Jinx paused and Silco was gone. She sniffled and craned her neck back towards the bank to see Lux stood there with her arms crossed. The blonde was wearing nothing but a loose white t-shirt and pyjama shorts. Her hair messied from bundling up against her pillow whilst she slept.

“I don't know,” Jinx answered candidly, “When I felt… confused… Silco would always help me find who I was.”

Lux’s expression softened, “And now?”

Pain flashed across Jinx’s face and she subconsciously brought her hands together in front of her, “Now he's gone, and I'm alone, again. And it's all my fault, again.”

“I can't say what is and isn't your fault. But I can say you're not alone anymore,” Lux said, stepping out of her shorts and taking her shirt off, “I'm here now. Forever and always.”

Jinx could do nothing except watch in fascination as Lux discarded the clothes into a pile next to hers and took the plunge into the freezing water fearlessly. Lux reached out and took a hold of Jinx’s hands, offering comfort.

“I'm a jinx. I'm a problem, and we both know it. I'm going to mess everything up again,” She nestled her head into Lux’s shoulder, “I-I’m sorry.”

“It's okay,” Lux whispered, “I've got you. Anything you need.”

“I don't know why I muck it all up. I don't wanna. I only wanna help,” Her voice was hardly more than a muffle into the other girl’s skin. “Please…”

“You're helping. You help me everyday. Without you, I would have fallen apart by now. You've given me hope again and without you, well, I think this village would be a little bit darker,“ Lux continued, “Those kids you created those toys for? Did you know they've been hounding poor Mira to ask if you can teach them how to make their own?”

“They have?” Jinx hated the way her voice cracked.

Lux smiled and held Jinx in front of her, “Yeah.”

“I don't want to jinx it any more.” She confessed.

The mage smiled, “What did Silco use to do?”

Jinx chuckled breathlessly with tears blurring her vision, “He’d give me some big dumb speech about becoming who I was always supposed to be. How I need to let go and be reborn anew. He'd dip me under the water and…”

“You're free here. You can become who you want to become here. Who do you want to be, Jinx?”

“... I want to belong. I want to be Powder. But Powder is gone now. I'm all that's left. Jinx stands for Jinx,” She smiled, broken, “I'm perfect.”

Lux shook her head, “No, you're not who he said you are. You're Jinx, you're my Jinx.”

“Blondie…”

Jinx felt Lux’s hand on her cheek and she grabbed it softly. A thumb wiped away her tear tracks. “You're my light.”

They stared into each other’s eyes, peering through them and into their exposed souls. Jinx rested her forehead against the other’s, and their noses bumped as their mouths connected. They closed their eyes and melted into each other.

The link between them felt like electricity and fire running through her veins. She couldn't quantify the feeling as anything other than love. And as they parted, Lux’s hand remained tangled within her blue hair and she tenderly lowered her into the water.

With a final look into Lux’s loving eyes, Jinx closed her own and the water swallowed her once again.

Underneath, the voices were quiet and she realised who she was. This village and Lux, her sunshine, had wormed into her heart in such a short time with their openness and friendliness. They were good people and she cared for them all like they were family.

And she would protect them all. She would jinx any that would dare to rob her of this feeling ever again.

Lux pulled her back from the water, reborn, and into a hug that she returned instantly. Jinx stands for protector.

Ever wonder what it's like to love? There's peace in love. Like it's holding you, whispering in low tones to let it in. And every problem in the world will fade away.

And it will.

[sidhewrites]

I was possessed by the spirit of writing last night and stayed up way too late working on a Graveyard Lesbians rewrite. So here's a brand new chapter 1 :)

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tag list: @adaughterofathena @ambreeskyewriting @carnelianflame @halfbloodlycan @vigilantdesert @nadunacreates

For the record, I wasn't in a graveyard in the rain to sulk, or brood, or pout. I had work to do. I'll admit, I had done no small amount of those things the past two weeks, but this wasn't the time. Regardless of the weather, grass had to be cut, headstones had to be cleaned, and ghosts had to be banished.

Okay, that last one was a lie, but I did feel a little bit like a ghost buster, leaving the tool shed armed with a trowel, huge garden shears, and an assortment of other tools hanging off my tool belt, and a grim scowl of determination on my face. One of the rose bushes had thrown out a runner, and if I didn't tackle it now, Mr. Ngo would try to take care of it himself.

And though I was a cool, collected, recently-single young woman in a college town full of other young women ready to mingle, I wasn't about to let a sixty-year-old man with arthritis try to fight a runner. Better just to keep him ignorant of the whole thing.

So I leave the tool shed properly armed, and only pause briefly to wonder if I should take the golf cart. The roses weren't too far away on a clear day, but it was pouring buckets, and it would be better for the metal tools. But it would also ruin the mood of my post-breakup wallowing. In the end, it wasn't a hard decision at all.

I take off, and let the rain wash down my face, ruining my recently-touched up pink dye, and dripping off my various piercings. Perfect.

The town had newer graveyards, with fewer ghost stories and questionable history, but this one had been around for almost 150 years. The first grave dated back to when Joseph Sutterman and his party first arrived here and set up a logging operation to service all the settlements along the river as it traveled down the mountainside. As the surrounding cities grew, so did Sutterman's settlement and the town of [Town] was founded. Even if the logging industry had dried up in the 1940s, people kept moving in, Sutterman College kept growing, and now we had a whole modern graveyard, and zoning laws, and everything. [find a way to put this back on topic about how this graveyard and like half of town has ghost stories with how old it is]

A flash of movement out of the corner of my eye has me stop in my tracks and look over my shoulder. The graveyard isn't open to the public for another two hours, so there shouldn't be anyone there. All the same, I could swear I saw something. But as I turned, my headphone wire snagged on the shears, and I flinched as one earbud tore out of my ear. By the time I'd saved it from falling in the mud, the brief pain had receded, and I was able to turn back to where I'd seen the person.

Only there wasn't anyone there. Just the old tree in the center of the older headstones, looking as ominous and spooky as always when the weather was like this. Spooky, but not actually someone trying to trespass. 

The graveyard was well-trafficked, with a wide gates on three of its four sides, separating many of the apartments and off-campus housing from the university campus itself. The odd passer-by wasn't an uncommon sight, nor was it unheard of for students to spend time here, studying or hanging out between classes. There's a small chance I'm speaking from personal experience when I say that the gates were too difficult to climb when locked and slick from the rain.

So I tip an imaginary hat at the old spooky tree with its crown of red-and-gold leaves, and make my way over to the rose bushes.

#

By the time I've got the runner pulled up and the dirt back in place, I'm exhausted, covered in mud, and soaked to the bone, but I feel better about my life for the time being. Digging things up and gardening had always helped get my mind off things, Josie included. She'd be at the curio shop by now, hard at work and hopefully feeling guilty about how we'd left off the last time we tried to find time for her to come pick up the rest of her things from my place. It was almost noon, which meant the end of my shift, and I figured that the older graves could stand to wait a day or two before I mowed the grass in that quarter of the graveyard.

Mr. Ngo, being a grandfather, had perfected the disappointed dad stare, and he leveled me with one as he puttered up to the tool shed in his own personal golf cart. "What happened to you, Karen?" He also knew exactly when to use my full name to kick his fatherly disappointment up a notch. Normally, it's Kas to him, and everyone else except my actual father, who I only spoke to on holidays.

For the record, I'd only ever called him dad five times since I started working here three years ago.

"Morning, boss."

"You look like a zombie that crawled out of the ground." Though he lost his hair years ago, Mr. Ngo had never lost his Vietnamese accent, nor his love for campy monster movies from the eighties. I have him to thank for my own love of horror, and half my DVD collection.

"I could definitely go for a skull full of brains right about now." Listen, I wasn't good at clever comebacks. "How are your joints doing?"

His expression didn't change, which meant that they were indeed hurting and didn't want me to know. "I'll tell you when it's your business."

"Sure thing, boss."

"Anything left to do today?"

"Nothing that can't wait until the weather clears."

He paused, looking at me in a way that made my insides squirm. I hated when he got sympathetic and fatherly. "Phan made banh mi today. I'll meet you in the office."

"Braiiiins."

He gave me a look, and drove off. His wife always made something for me, since my own family is half a country and two time zones away. She's an angel, and, if I didn't think my mom would disown me for ever saying such a thing out loud, I'd ask her to be my second mom, too.

Thankfully, lunch wasn't the worst thing ever. Mr. Ngo had taken a few days to accept Josie and I were properly broken up, and was still dealing with the fact that neither of us had any intention of getting back together. Any friendship we might have had post - relationship had been ruined with how long we'd drawn things out, and I still bristled when she was brought up in conversation.

I told him to thank Phan for lunch as always, and, now that I was off the clock, I let myself brood broodily back home.