#Clark how dare you be so strong

[itsonlybaby]

𐙚ᣟ݂﹒𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 - 𝐛. 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐤𝐞﹒

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

playlist !

Bellamy Blake - Drop ship

꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ ⸝⸝ You're an Azgeda assassin sent to kill Bellamy after the mass genocides to Trikru. Azgeda assassins are supposed to be stone-cold, and feel nothing, but what happens when a certain boy tries to gain your trust ﹒ 　 ⊹ 　⤷ cw: smut, nsfw, oral, a little violence

Day two

Sitting atop my horse, Swan, I was studying the boy beyond the trees. He knew I was here, he was also studying me as well. He goes by the name 'Bellamy Blake', an oddly long name, but a name you don't see every day.

I was here to kill him.

To deliver his head to my buyers, Titus, the fleimkepa, and King Roan.

I had been following this Bellamy for two days, he's known I was following him for a few hours, and my horse had given it away.

I like to study my targets, see what they are like, study their mannerisms, and how they survive. It isn't standard, most assassins would've had it done within the hour. I've had the chance to kill him plenty of times. He is always so vulnerable to attacks, or maybe he knows that and is testing me.

Bellamy carries himself well for the most part, he's a good shot but very loud, as most Skaikru are. It was fairly easy to track him. The first day I was sent he was at their initial landing spot, what they call a 'dropship'. I wasn't sure why he wasn't behind the walls of Arkadia, could they have banished him?

My thoughts were cut short when I realized I had lost sight of him, I couldn't believe I got so caught up in my own thoughts to realize he was gone.

I hitched Swan and treaded lightly to his last position by the river.

Under a rock was a note and a piece of fish, the note would've been nice if I could read it.

The ignorance of Skaikru.

It wasn't that I couldn't speak English, in fact, I was fluent, as all warriors and assassins are. Only the warriors are taught English along with Trigdasleng, it was so we could understand the Mountain Men, well when they were a threat.

Thank you, Clarke.

I had tossed the piece of fish back into the river as I didn't trust Bellamy, I mean I was here to kill him after all.

Looking into the dirt I saw a heavy set of footprints, foolish boy. They were leading back to the dropship, were he was spending most of his days. His schedule was very plain, wake up, walk to the river, eat, walk back. Very boring for a sky person.

I walked back to Swan to hitch her somewhere safe and headed towards the dropship carefully.

Clearly not careful enough as I ended up in a trap, a bear trap of some sorts. It didn't have jagged edges like a normal trap, it was flat and only applied enough pressure to injure my foot and land me on the ground.

"Who are you?"

I heard a voice call from the bushes, it was very easy to spot him as he was a fairly tall man. How stupid could I have been? I wasn't even watching where I was looking? The trap wasn't even hidden that well and I walked right into it. I got weak. Clumsy. I let my guard down. I could never call myself an Azgeda assassin after this.

Moments passed without an answer from me and he was growing impatient.

"I said who are you? I am not afraid to kill you, grounder." Bellamy yelled, now emerging from the bushes with a pistol in hand. I may have let my guard down but I wouldn't let this man intimidate me.

"Azgeda," I say flatly, not revealing anything else.

Bellamy pondered for a moment, his gaze on me remained strong, not daring to look away, it was clear I intimidated him.

"Ice Nation? I said who are you."

No response.

"Tell me or I swear I will pull this trigger!" He shouted, stepping closer until the barrel of the gun was against my forehead.

I had already accepted death.

"Ai gonplei ste odon." My fight is over.

Bellamy had pistol-whipped me, and before I knew it I was knocked out.

Day three

I had awoken tied to the ladder in the dropship. Looking around I saw that most things were covered in tar from the fire, the only clean things being Bellamy's makeshift bed and his other belongings, as well as all my armor and layers, leaving me in a simple t-shirt; which I could only assume was his, and my jeans.

I was tied down with leftover seatbelts, very sturdy, I had struggled before finally giving in after a headache caught up with me.

I groaned in pain, death would've been kinder than a pistolwhip. Where even was he? Had he just left me here to rot?

A few moments after Bellamy had appeared from behind the red tarp acting as a door, he was wearing what he always wears. A gray shirt paired with his usual black jacket, with certain patches gone missing. His hair and face had been littered with dirt and blood, though I was sure the blood wasn't his.

"Good, you're awake. Makes this a lot easier." Bellamy spoke, swiftly walking to his pack next to his bed. My worry grew when he pulled something out, was he going to kill me now?

He pulled out a water flask and walked over to me, I'd never drink from an enemy's flask.

Bellamy put the flask to my mouth, when I pulled my face away he sighed and took a sip himself to show me it was safe. I still didn't trust it.

I took a big sip, and once he pulled it away I spit the water back into his face. He pursed his lips, seemingly trying to keep his anger down. I'd never be this man's peace.

"A bath would do you good, ripa." Murderer. Even without a bath, his scent was.. likable.

He scoffed amusingly, "That's funny coming from you, grounder."

Bellamy stood up, wiping away the water with his hand and turning his back towards me.

"What do you want from me?" He continued, grabbing a chair and sitting it close in front of me.

I refused to answer, I only stared at him with anger.

"I have all day, princess." He spoke, leaning back in the chair and pulling out a wrapped ration from his pocket. He was going to eat in front of me, what kind of torture method was this? And princess? Who does Bellamy think he is?

A few hours had passed since then and I really had to go. I'd been holding it in for hours but I was at my limit. Bellamy was still staring at me through it all, he could tell I was starting to get uneasy.

"I need to go..." I let out in a barely audible whisper, quickly regaining his attention.

"What was that?"

"I need to go."

The dots seemed to connect in his mind and he nodded, getting up ready to let my wrists free.

"Tell me your name first," Bellamy demanded.

Are you serious? Of course, he would stoop this low.

"y/n," I spoke with a sigh, I had no other choice but to give in. And with a nod, he freed me- well, for the most part, one of my hands was still attached to a seatbelt, which he was holding.

Bellamy led me out of the dropship and to the side, god, this was so embarrassing.

"Can you at least turn around?" I questioned, my voice wavering for the first time since I met him. So much for not being intimidated.

With a silent nod he turned to the side and I did my business, a real gentleman, pistol-whipping me, and tying me up.

Though I had no room to speak.

Day four

I was back on the ladder, and Bellamy was in his now usual spot. Right in front of me. I hadn't eaten in two days, he knew this. And he used it against me.

"Now, princess, why were you following me?" Bellamy questioned, waving a piece of fish in his hand, like I was some dog he was rewarding for good behavior.

Was he trying to train me?

I had come to the conclusion I either answer the question or die of starvation. I already failed the mission, I could never return to Azgeda or Polis. I couldn't face what was waiting for me.

"I was hired to kill you." I flatly state, eyeing the fish and practically drooling over it.

Bellamy seemed satisfied with this answer and handed me the piece with a small nod, which I quickly scarfed down. I watched him pull another from the little silver bag.

He really was training me.

"Why didn't you? You've been following me for a few days, and had plenty of chances."

I thought about my answer for a few seconds, "You were intriguing. You didn't act like how they described."

He only smiled at this, for reasons I couldn't comprehend. But I got another piece of fish so I didn't really care.

"Well, until you pistolwhipped me," I added in between bites. His smile slowly faded.

"Sorry about that, I didn't wanna kill you."

"Cause you needed answers?"

He hesitated.

"Yeah."

Day five - smut

The isolation had started to get to me, Bellamy being the only person I could see, and I started to notice more things about him. The way his back muscles would flex when he changed clothes. How defined his arms were and how defined his entire body was.

I cursed myself for having these thoughts about Bellamy, I was his prisoner, and I should be scared for my life.

It was particularly hot this morning, so Bellamy decided the best option was to be shirtless. All. Day.

His chest was well shaven surprisingly, and his pants sagged low, low enough to see his V line. That only brought worse thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't suppress.

He hadn't asked me any questions since I've awoken, I assume he's given up and doesn't need me anymore.

"Like the view?" He asks, snapping me out of my trance, how long had he known I was staring?

His gaze on me was intense. He knew I wouldn't answer his question so he only stepped closer and closer, leaning down when he got close enough to me.

"Keep looking pretty for me, yeah princess?" He spoke, his voice becoming husky.

A bright red tint lined my face at his words. Nobody had ever spoken to me in that way. I couldn't reply, too filled with nerves to form a comprehensible sentence, all I could do was stare at the handsome man before me and hope he didn't notice how vulnerable he made me.

Bellamy seemed to get an idea, with a smirk he stood up and sat back in the chair.

Leaning back he began unbuckling his belt, pushing his pants just below his bulge. I was more turned on than I'd ever been. Was he really going to do what I think he's gonna do? Now this is torture. Not being able to touch him.

Bellamy started palming himself through his boxers, letting little grunts slip past his mouth, meanwhile maintaining full eye contact with me- though my eyes were focused on his hands. I wanted so desperately for that to be my hands touching him, my hands making him feel good.

A few seconds passed before he pulled his boxers down just enough to reveal his entire cock, causing me to clench my thighs together tightly; craving any friction I could get. I now only realized the shirt I was wearing still had his scent on it, it was intoxicating.

He started stroking himself slowly, leaning his head back in pleasure. I needed him.

"Bellamy," I spoke, my voice laced with lust and need, my entire body feeling warm. His name sounded so good coming from my mouth. Bellamy's eyes locked back with mine as his pace quickened.

"Princess," His voice sounded breathy. The nickname did no help in calming me down. I wasn't sure what to say next.

Bellamy stood up and walked closer to me.

"On your knees." He demanded, to which I quickly obliged, finally getting what I wanted. I got to my knees and looked up at him, his cock resting on my rose-tinted cheek while his hand caressed my other cheek, moving down to my mouth and running his thumb along my lower lip; asking for entrance.

Opening my mouth I felt his thumb explore it, pressing softly against my tongue, all the while maintaining eye contact with me.

"So good for me." Bellamy praised before tapping his tip against my tongue, the taste being surprisingly good given the limited resources. He slowly inserted his cock into my mouth, releasing a loud groan of pleasure once he hit the back of my throat, the warmth feeling amazing against his dick.

His hand instinctively grabbed ahold of my hair, holding my head in place as he started throat fucking me. I began breathing through my nose and using my tongue to feel against his shaft. Bellamy's moans only grew louder and his breathing became erratic.

My mouth was doing this to him, I was making him feel so good.

"Just like that." He whispered between moans, noticing the tears that began to coat my cheeks.

His free hand gripped the ladder steps above my head. The hand on my hair gripped tighter than before, I could tell he was close.

His tip hit the back of my throat relentlessly, I was sure I'd have trouble speaking after this, but its be so worth it. I could feel his cock twitch in my mouth, his thrust slowly becoming sloppy.

"Doing so good, princess, so good, so fucking good."

My throat began to hurt from the abuse of his dick, and with one final deep thrust, I felt his warm cum fill my throat, forcing me to swallow every drop of the salty substance. Once he was sure he was done Bellamy pulled out, leaving my mouth feeling empty, missing the feeling of his cock. He was covered in sweat and I was covered in tears, but in this moment he never looked sexier.

I felt my hands drop to my sides, was he letting me free?

"Let's get cleaned up." He spoke, dropping the seat belt completely and helping me up. I stumbled a bit but used him as support. I was free but I didn't want to run.

In this moment nothing else mattered but him.

◜♡﹒﹒𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭﹒𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹒𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[ijustthinkhesneat]

I feel compelled to expand upon the previous fae/folklore! Batboys headcanons:

-Bruce is just a straight up normal human. I think this provides a great opportunity for angst because unlike his immortal? children Bruce does age and it terrifies them. And Bruce is young he’s in his early 30s but like his knees will crack a little or his back is slightly stiff after a bad patrol and it just sends them into a spiral because they cannot fathom their dad not being around forever. I can definitely imagine them trying to strong arm Bruce into becoming some flavor of unaging. You could go super dark or just more generally emotional angst but damn the possibilities.

-Cass is giving me shadow person. Very cryptid of her. I’m not sure that I have a clear backstory for her worked out yet. Either magic gone wrong or she’s another flavor of undead like Jason and Tim. I like to imagine she just hovers over people at night to be creepy.

-Originally I wanted to say Duke was a Will-o-the-wisp. But I’m not really sure it fits, especially since he’s primarily active during the day. Then it hit me. Mothman. My lamplight boy is a moth creature. I like the idea of him hiding his little antenna under a beany and wearing sunglasses. The wings would be difficult. But my boy is creative.

- I think Steph and Barbara are also human like Bruce they just are extra bad ass.

-Coming back to life as a magical creature warps peoples memories and emotions from both the trauma and changing into something not human. Tim is significantly less effected than Jason, at least outwardly, because he was only a toddler when he died so he didn’t have many memories or experiences to draw from, but Jason was super volatile. His memories surrounding Willis became even more dark while his memories of his mother sort of glossed over her absentee parenting and drug use. Jason can’t help but struggle with associating the negative learned experience he had with his first paternal figure with Bruce. Jason ends up going to live with Talia for a while because he doesn’t want to feel that way about his dad anymore.

-Basically I think Jason, at least mentally, is the most human of Bruce’s kids besides Damian because he actually lived a life as a human, where as Tim changed so young that he doesn’t really know how to be anything but his extremely disturbing self.

-I think Gotham just has major ‘I do not see it’ energy. Like The Batfamily? Demons from hell. The Wayne’s? Hot neurodivergent people. Did you see Dick Grayson unhinge his jaw like a fucking snake at a gala? No you didn’t he just has a really big smile. Jason Todd??? Has scales??? Nope actually he just developed early onset Eczema and he’s really self conscious about it how dare you! Tim Drake sucking the blood of the himbo blonde boy? Everyone knows Tim and Bernard are total freaks. Cassandra Cain is your sleep paralysis demon? Honestly fair.

-It’s totally a coincidence that strange misfortune befalls anyone who threatens the Wayne’s!

-Clark is Bruce’s favorite man to sleep on so he gets a pass. I don’t know why but a midwestern spin on the story of princess kaguya lives in my head rent free. Like Martha Kent is just shucking corn and then boom baby in the corn. We call that children of the corn. I still love to imagine him being like so perfect that it’s high key alien, but his little sharp nails and fangies! Maybe even slightly pointy ears. And like Clark fully thinks he is human, like his parents don’t tell him humans can’t fly until he’s in kindergarten, and even then they just tell him he is special and learned super fast and shouldn’t embarrass the other kids and Clark is such a Good BoyTM that he just never uses his powers in public cause he doesn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. Like bro doesn’t learn he is adopted until he is about to go to college, he is just straight up clueless.

-Clark learns Dick is a Fae creature when Batman brings Robin to the Watchtower cause he couldn’t get a baby sitter and Alfred doing some spooky shit like dusting the mausoleum. Like Batman just slinking around but there is this super colorful child with him. And then Dick turns and smiles and it’s just so wrong, like his mouth just stretching his face like some horror movie shit. Clark almost shots himself cause like what the fuck. Bruce told Dick to just ‘be himself’ so like he just thinks he’s being friendly. Despite being creepy as all hell Clark kinda thinks Dick is super adorable. Like was he spider crawling around the floor with all his limbs bent the wrong way while Bruce and Clark were talking? Yeah but then he just tugged on Bruce’s cape to ask for a juice box, like that’s a baby.

-Jason freaked him out in a different way. Since Jason is undead he doesn’t have a heartbeat and doesn’t need to breath so when he isn’t moving he makes literally zero noise. When he first met Clark he was just watching him from around corners and behind stair banisters and Clark was convinced he was losing his mind and hallucinating the kid from the Grudge. Then Bruce is just like “Oh you met Jason! He’s so sweet, just a little shy. He’s my second oldest! I think he likes you though.” And then a little grey blue slightly webbed hand just reaches around the corner to give a little wave and boom Clark would kill for him.

-Tim is similar in that Clark has trouble pinpointing his location because of a lack of normal bodily functions, but Tim has no idea what a boundary is. So like at first he’s a shy little toddler and then that night he’s crawling all over Clark and pranking him nonstop.

-Damian is a baby but like Clark looked in his eyes and just felt like this infant could see his past present and future and was judging him heavily. Clark was relieved cause at least he had a heartbeat.

-Cass lives to fuck with Clark. She’s Jason’s age but not only has no heartbeat and doesn’t breath, when she is in shadow form he can’t see her with X-ray vision. She can literally make herself undetectable to Superman. He learns this one night sleeping in a guest room at the manor. He gets the feeling he is being watched but can’t find anyone. Then right when he relaxes her arm shoots out from the darkness under his bed and grabs his leg. Clark screams so loud it cracks the window. And then just nearly silent muffled laughter as the arm retreats into the darkness. He X-Ray visions but nothing is there. He demands to stay in Bruce’s room after that. Bruce is just like “Oh that was just Cass. She likes playing practical jokes, she is my little princess!”

[whoopsyeahokay]

October Sun

summary: after you'd sent Xavier a text that told him not to meet you, you'd ventured to the school at dawn, alone, bouquet in hand as promised.

pairing: Wally Clark x fem!reader

warnings: eventual smutty smut smut. and mad spoilers. and obvious Canon divergence. very involved, very dense plot.

🚨💀⚠️thank you for bearing with me, guys. this is entirely new material. PART 24/25/26 have been combined here to create a massive fluffing installment (6509 words 😮‍💨). i'd suggest rereading at least the latter half of PART 23 beforehand if you need a refresh of the point in time we're returning to. please pretend that the old parts never happened. erase them from your memories 🕰️👁️‍🗨️💤🌀

bon reading, frens

___________________________💀

OCTOBER SUN pt.24

It was barely 6AM. You'd hardly slept after Dave had returned you to the house. He'd watched you climb the stairs to the second floor, ever the persistent warden, before you'd heard him slink down to the basement he and Aurora had converted into their private apartment. Besides the numerous big reveals that had unfolded last night—Ajay's odd friendship with your sister, Simon's warped inverse of your ability, Maddie's soul penetrating the field of your cosmic artery, the soul-tie you and Wally somehow shared—besides all of that, something, a feeling of profound unrest, had kept you up. Had you staring at the green stars on Aiden's ceiling until your alarm began to chime.

Sharing a soul-tie with Wally should've been the thing that terrified you most amongst all that'd transpired. It was unheard of, curious, downright impossible in nature. Soul-ties were as fragile as they were strong and required both souls to be alive, together in the same lifetime in the world of the living, to exist. That Wally was extremely not alive should've made you question the validity of the connection you and he had. Especially given there was evidence of magical tampering on school grounds, a spiteful, bitter essence sickened into the ether that surrounded the campus.

And yet, that nor the symbol etched into the tree, that bastardized amalgamation of runic lines, hadn't been what you'd kept ruminating about from the moment you'd laid down until dawn. No, it'd been Dave. Something about how he'd come out of the trees, so steady and sure-footed; how his eyes had held your gaze as he'd marched toward you.

You pressed your fingers into your eyes and groaned. There was no use thinking about it further. Not now. You had a bouquet to put together and two friends to save. Dave's feline equilibrium had to wait. With a grunt you rolled out of Aiden's little-kid bed and shuffled into your room, not daring to check your appearance in the mirror. You could feel the bags under your eyes. Heavy and dark like someone had injected squid ink beneath the delicate skin.

Showering was a groggy, clumsy affair, appendages weak and a step behind your brain's transmissions. You did what you could to make yourself presentable, hoped to conceal the fatigue behind a cute outfit: A thin, loose, autumn-orange destination sweater tucked partially into a slim, black denim skirt with opaque black tights underneath. You applied makeup where you needed it to hide the sleep deprivation and called it at that, unable to muster the strength for much else. It was going to be a long, long, l o n g day.

But worth it, you reminded yourself firmly in a voice not unlike Wally's, because you were going to find a way to help Simon and once Simon was helped, you'd both find a way to get Maddie back on the right side of the veil.

A sweep of berry-tinted lipgloss and you dragged yourself outside into your Nanna's garden, brandishing a pair of pruning shears from the mud room you'd passed through on your way out. You clipped a variety of flowers and piled them on the bouquet paper you'd liberated from the stash Nanna (and now Aurora) kept at the house. Once accomplished, it was time to head out and you sighed in regret that you'd texted Xavier to sleep in, telling him you wanted to be alone that morning to center yourself before having to face your classmates after yesterday's ordeal.

It wasn't entirely false. It couldn't have been. You didn't lie to Xavier as a personal commandment. But it wasn't entirely the truth either and you felt queasy from it. Still, you sucked in a deep breath and forced yourself to move forward. Nanna was in the kitchen when you walked in with the bouquet, sitting at the table as she waited for the kettle to boil. You could smell the floral tea blend Nanna, Aurora, and Dave drank. Even dry the scent was potent, overwhelming the herb and warm spice aroma the kitchen usually held. You nearly gagged as you passed the open teapot, the concoction inside like a punch to the nose when you got too close.

"Good morning, Maypie." Nanna smiled warmly, patting the table in front of the seat beside her. The nickname irritated you, too close to the one you'd scolded Xavier for using yesterday, but it was Nanna and you couldn't find it in yourself to say something.

Instead, "Morning, Nanna," you greeted with a yawn, setting the bouquet on the counter as you traipsed toward the sink to fill a glass of water. "Can't sit. Gotta get to school."

Nanna hummed in acknowledgment and you could tell she was checking the time on the stove before she turned to face you in her chair. "Awfully early, isn't it?"

"So early," You agreed with a sob of disdain as you brought the glass to your lips for a sip of cold water. Your skin began to feel warm and wherever you rested your gaze seemed irrationally farther than where it should be. Shaking your head to dispel what you assumed was a lack of sleep, you took a deep drink from your glass.

Nanna tilted her head and raised a snowy brow at something near your elbow, "And who are those for?"

For a brief moment, you didn't grasp the question, casting about to understand. When your eyes landed on the bouquet beside the sink, you blinked slowly at it, lids like lead. The floral aroma itched your nostrils, traveled into your skull, a thick fog dampening your mental processing.

Sedate, you panned your head and stared properly at the bouquet, told Nanna, "It's for Maddie," confused as to why you'd believed you shouldn't. That desperate, nagging feeling you'd had earlier when thinking of last night—last night?—growled in warning in the back of your mind, but it was so far away you easily ignored it.

"Oh, how lovely," Nanna replied, standing to put her hands on your shoulders and rub your arms kindly, "I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture when she comes home."

"Who will appreciate what gesture?" Ginny croaked from the doorway, slugging into the kitchen in a silk robe and thick, knitted socks up to her knees. You knew she wore them to keep in place the gauze she slathered in anti-aging creams and wore overnight. Grumpy and rumpled, she questioned, "Who're the flowers for?"

You huffed a laugh as you watched her pull out a chair and drop into the seat, seeming as ill-suited to the morning as you.

"They're for Maddie," Nanna explained and, immediately, Ginny straightened, her glazed eyes turning sharp as they landed on you.

"She's back?" She asked.

You shook your head, "No," and you were tired, so tired, and couldn't quite seem to formulate the words to explain why you were taking flowers to school for Maddie who hadn't actually returned from wherever she'd run off to in order to accept them.

"Is it a shrine thing?" Ginny asked.

A feeling of awareness clawed through the mist that had filled your head. You felt an insidious tickle in the back of your nose, gasped a breath, and then released a cathartic blast of a sneeze, expelling that horrible, heady floral scent.

You blinked several times as you recovered your wits, glancing at the bouquet and then between Nanna and Ginny, at last able to think clearly, "Something like that. We're just trying to stay positive. Principal Hartman said he'd pass along whatever we bring in to Maddie's mom." And there you were, feeling like yourself again, able to map out a plausible lie to keep Wally (and, by extension, Maddie-as-a-ghost) safe from whatever Ginny or your mother could do if they discovered you were conspiring with the school's dead.

Ginny returned to a slouch, propping her head on her fist, "That's nice of you." She looked halfway back to sleep when you gave her a kiss goodbye, patting your thigh limply and muttering a slurred farewell. As you shrugged into your leather jacket, you heard Ginny scoff at Nanna, barking, "Don't you bring that nasty stuff near me, I don't know how you drink it," and couldn't help but snort because, truly, not even a man dying of thirst would accept a cup of it.

"I'm taking mom's car." You announced, peeking back into the kitchen. Your mother was on what constituted for her as a work trip; taking money to perform a ceremony that had no bearing on the ghosts—if they hadn't already crossed over as many of them had—at all. The concept was as stupid as it was a scam and you were revolted that someone in your family, who you'd once respected, was capable of performing such a farce.

Fucking. Ghost weddings.

You pressed your lips in a line in an effort to control the disgusted expression you knew you'd make upon thinking about it. Without looking at you, Nanna and Ginny gave their assent and carried on bickering after wishing you a pleasant day.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

"So," Maddie said in a neutral tone which set Wally's teeth on edge, "How long have you guys really known each other?"

It was just him and her outside, lingering by the door waiting for you and Xavier to arrive. Wally leaned while Maddie sat on an empty bike rack adjacent to the entrance, looking out over the parking lot like watchmen on duty. The others were inside; Ajay had vowed to coax Mina down from the rafters while Charlie and Rhonda had simply wanted to observe how that interaction went after learning Ajay and Mina were entangled in their own version of a relationship. Strange and unconventional and, apparently, wholesome though Wally had no idea what that meant coming from Ajay.

"I was wondering when you were gonna ask me." Wally said, ducking his head sheepishly and rubbing the back of his neck. He lifted his gaze to Maddie, "Not long. Since Field Day."

Maddie's brows raised, but she remained composed. After a few moments of silence, Maddie spoke again, a smile in her voice, "She talked about you a lot."

Wally swallowed, his heart fluttering at the information, unable to repress the feeling of giddiness that fizzled through him. Regardless, he tried to play it cool, "Yeah?"

"Yeah. She always said her 'ghost was so hot' and that she was 'saving herself for her ghost'." She paused, chewed her lip, and stared down at her lap as she thought about what to say next. "Looking back, I guess she thought she could hide in plain sight." And then, with a snort, "And it worked. None of us believed her for a second. It never even crossed my mind that it could be true until I got here."

Wally nudged her side in a friendly motion. "Was she right?" He snickered, teasing, "Am I hot?"

Maddie shoved his head down playfully with a laugh, "You're an idiot." Another comfortable beat. She hummed quietly before she revealed in a gentle tone, "You two are cute together. If it means anything."

"It does," Wally said and it was true. It was more reassuring than it should've been to have someone on the outside see what he saw. Cemented it somehow.

Another few minutes passed before a car pulled into the parking lot. Maddie jumped down from her perch, face screwed up in confusion, "Wasn't she bringing Xavier?"

Wally could see the tension she'd been holding in her shoulders slowly diminish as you parked and climbed out. Alone. He and Maddie made their way over to greet you, twin smiles of relief on their faces. Wally hadn't been keen to see that dickbag anytime soon. It was better for everyone that you'd decided to leave him behind.

"Hey guys," You said, eyes automatically finding Wally's, his heart beating that much harder in his chest. You seemed to read the unspoken question and informed, "I thought we'd get more accomplished if Xavier wasn't here."

Maddie nodded, "Smart," visibly grateful for your forethought.

Wally treaded around the front of the car you'd driven and scooped you up into a solid hold, one arm under your thighs while the other clamped at a diagonal on your back, his hand tangling in your hair. Looking at you closely, he could see the exhaustion beneath the surface and felt a pang of guilt for agreeing with everyone (including you) that you should come as early as permissible by school standards.

"Hey, baby," He uttered, pressed his forehead to yours with a lopsided, affectionate grin, and hinted greedily for a kiss that you supplied without complaint. He almost groaned as your lips yielded under his, the simple touch striking a match low in his belly. Fuck, he wanted you. Like, always. Was hardwired at this point to get aroused whenever you were within arm's length. It was driving him half insane that he couldn't climb into the back of the car with you, have you straddle his lap, and show you how affected he was by you.

"Rhonda's right," Maddie commented from the sidelines, referencing something Rhonda had said the previous night after you'd left with your brother-in-law. "You guys are gross."

You pulled away from Wally with a cackle, prompting him to place you back on your feet, and said, "Oh, like you and Zav aren't just as bad."

Twirling around and bending (very nicely) into the backseat of the car to collect your things, you didn't see the look that flashed across Maddie's face, one of hurt and betrayal and anger, but Wally did and it made him want to grab you by the shoulders, and shake you until you stopped thinking the world of Xavier Baxter. He wouldn't dare do that, of course, you were too precious, and he couldn't imagine doing anything to frighten you like that. On the contrary, he'd proudly do things to Xavier that would earn Wally a spot on a Most Wanted list if he'd still been alive.

He pushed those thoughts down when you straightened, lifting a lush, full bouquet into your arms which you handed over to Maddie in a way that signaled to Wally you and she were used to each other's mannerisms and motions. Again, you reached into the car, grabbed your backpack, and hoisted it out of the backseat. Wally noticed that it seemed to weigh more to you than normal and took it from you, slinging it over his shoulder with a broad grin.

"Such a gentleman," You teased, though Wally could see how much you enjoyed the gesture by the way you pinked up so sweetly. He slung his arm around your waist and pulled you into his side as you and he walked, stamping a kiss to your hair and openly breathing in the scent of musky vanilla and coconut.

"Wait." Maddie said, just as you and Wally were about to reach the door. You and he paused, turning to look at Maddie as she regarded the bouquet in her hands and then the backpack on Wally's shoulder, an intense cast to her features. "How..." She squinted at you, "Where are the originals?" Scanned back to the car, then you, then the bouquet.

"Originals?" You asked, completely lost, though Wally recognized what Maddie meant. It hadn't occurred to him how unfeasible it was that he still had the notes you'd given him stashed away in his private, just-for-him corner of the school; none of the resets between now and then had vanished them as resets were wont to do.

"Yeah, the originals." Maddie repeated.

Wally stepped in, taking over the explanation since Maddie appeared to struggle with how to phrase that every object they, as ghosts, picked up was just a clone of one that stayed anchored in the living world. He did his best to describe it, beckoning both you and Maddie to follow him so he could show you an example with a piece of chalk in an unlocked classroom. He lifted it, of course wielding the copy while the original remained in place, untouched, not even a sign that it'd been tampered with.

You cocked your head, lifting the original and handing it to Maddie who took it without issue. Experimenting, Maddie placed it back on the chalk ledge, left it there for multiple seconds, and then instructed Wally to, "Pick it up now."

Wally did.

As in he actually did. Picked up the original, no immense, herculean emphasis of energy required (and that very, very rarely worked, normally resulting in a brief flicker of an already on-its-way-out lightbulb). How had Wally not noticed before?

"Gnarly," Wally laughed, tossing the chalk in the air and catching it. "Do you think the living see it floating if I'm holding it?" He began to zoom it around like a toy airplane. "I wonder if it works the other way."

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"Like, things that we brought with us into the afterlife," Maddie clarified, "Do you think you could make them real on your side?"

You shrugged and admitted, "I didn't even know I could do this until you guys pointed it out." And then you sighed and rubbed your temples, "Another thing to add to the laundry list of stuff I have to look in to." You looked at Maddie, "I'd probably need someone who can't see you guys to confirm whether or not it works both ways."

Wally strode over to you, putting the chalk back down on the ledge as he went. He adjusted the weight of your backpack on his shoulder so he could cradle your face in both of his big palms. "One thing at a time, baby," He said, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Let's check off giving Mina the flowers and then go from there, okay?"

You slumped, thankful, and slanted into him so that your forehead was pressed to the center of his chest, "That sounds like a good plan."

Together, you, Wally, and Maddie strolled to the theater, passing Mr. South who welcomed you with a friendly wave and a short hello. His eyes seemed to migrate this way and that as he watched you walk by, Maddie close to your side, Wally a half-step behind and falling father back as he studied Mr. South. Vaguely, he heard the man mutter, "Mm, dahlias," but that was about as much fuss as he expressed. Nothing to indicate Mr. South saw a puppeted bouquet or levitating backpack drifting down the hall of their own volition.

Wally caught up to you and Maddie quickly, his hand finding the small of your back on instinct. Rhonda and Charlie were already outside the theater when you, Maddie, and Wally arrived, Charlie rising from where he'd been seated on the floor as Rhonda pushed herself off the wall, today's lollipop stuffed into her cheek.

"Well, Ajay got her down," She announced, rolling her eyes, "But she refuses to talk to us. She won't even answer Ajay if he asks because she knows the questions aren't his." Belligerent, Rhonda shook her head, "And I thought Janet was a diva."

Charley shook his head, "I'm sorry, but that," He hooked his thumb over his shoulder to stipulate Mina's behavior, "isn't anywhere near as bad as Janet was. At least Mina was polite when she told us where to go."

Rhonda conceded with a bob of her head, pursed lips, and raised brows. Upon noticing the flowers, she remarked, "Huh, you came through, strawberry pie," her tone impressed, "Next time you should bring lover boy a new wardrobe," a smirk at Wally and a coy look at you, "He looks pretty good in jeans."

Wally cleared his throat and squeezed you to him tightly, his gaze soft and imploring as he said, "Ignore her, you don't have to bring me anything," then to Rhonda, "She's not our personal gofer."

Rhonda raised her hands in surrender, glimpsing at Charley in amusement, "No need to blow your jets, superstar, it was just a suggestion."

Charley added, "And a joke," as he gave Rhonda a sardonic side-eye. "So, should we get this over with? See if our Split River Phantom has anything useful to share?"

You patted Wally's chest to signal for your backpack which he handed over with a pout, disliking the idea of you hauling it around when you were so tired.

"You guys go do that. I'm going to steal Ajay and see if we can figure out what these symbols mean." You looked at Maddie, "If you guys find anything, let me know."

"How?" Maddie wondered. It wasn't as if she still had a means of communication in the afterlife; the decoy phone had been with Xavier when she'd been thrown from her body, and, as far as Wally knew, her real phone was in pieces. Even if she did have a phone...would it have worked? Wally had heard Dawn brag about her 'socials', but she wasn't actually capturing or uploading selfies...was she?

Before he could fall too far down that rabbit hole, he felt your hand grasp his, fingers twined, skin smooth under his thumb. You grinned at Maddie, "That's the best part," you brought your and Wally's joined hands up, "If Ajay and I don't get back before you're done, just manipulate the connection. Wally and I—"

"Don't know if it'll work!" He interrupted, worried that you might've forgotten that all those times he'd felt your emotions like his own or found you in crowded spaces had happened before last night.

It seemed you had because you blinked those darling Bambi eyes up at him, visibly uncertain. Wally saw the instant you realized your mistake, could see the gears turning as you backtracked and reassembled your speech. It didn't take long, maybe a second or two, and then you picked up where you'd left off, saying, "—but it should make it so he can find me."

Rhonda twirled her lollipop, whistled in surprise, "Magic is in.sane."

"It's not magic," You stated mildly, "It's connectedness. I promise there is a difference." You listed into Wally's side, turned your head to hide a yawn, and then seemed to try to shake yourself awake.

In response, Wally, cupped the back of your head and kissed your hair, rubbing his hand up and down your arm while holding you closer. "You gonna be okay?" He asked, concerned that you might not be able to stay upright much longer.

"I'll be fine," You said, however, the assurance you'd meant to offer was dimmed by another yawn you couldn't suppress.

It was then that Ajay appeared. He held the door to the theater open for Charley, Rhonda, and Maddie who waved their see-you-laters to you. Wally released you in measured degrees, careful and considerate, so you wouldn't fall into the space he left behind.

"I'm coming to find you as soon as we get something, okay, baby?"

You nodded, a forced smile on your face that made Wally want to carry you home and tuck you into your bed. Innocently. Innocently. But he couldn't help himself, dipping in to capture your lips in a gentle kiss that still somehow made his breath catch and his heart pound and his belly coil tight with desire.

"Okay, we get it, you're hot for each other, can we go now?" Ajay's voice cut through the muggy atmosphere that now permeated between you and Wally, exasperation pitched shrill as a school bell.

Wally untangled himself from you, hated having to do it, but understood that it needed to be done in order for both you and him to focus on what was important. That was finding clues or proof that Mr. Anderson was involved in Maddie's circumstances and pointing the police away from Simon. Right. Wally was an independent, capable guy who could do what it took to help. He just didn't want to do it without you plastered to him in some way.

"That face is exactly why you two can't be around each other right now." Ajay stated flatly, all but shoving Wally aside and ushering you back down the hall.

With a chuckle, Wally called after you, "I'll see you later, baby!"

"If either of you say 'I'll miss you', I'm boycotting this relationship until I can cross over." Ajay declared, not allowing you to stop and respond.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier sat behind the wheel of his truck, nervous, jittery; inching toward full-blown paranoia after having stopped at your house to pick you up. He'd received your message earlier, the one that had gently told him to stay home and sleep in since you weren't going to crusade after evidence against Mr. Anderson until a more appropriate hour.

But he hadn't been able to get back to sleep, had instead sat in bed contemplating how fucked up everything would inevitably get. And he was scared. Your newfound friendship with Simon made Xavier's veins clog with cold, slimy fear. He had no idea if Maddie had read the message he'd accidentally sent her ("The coast is clear, I'm alone. Wanna see you, babe, so hurry up."). Had no idea if she'd told Simon about Xavier and Claire. Simon hadn't outright accused Xavier of cheating on Maddie—not to Xavier's face, anyway—but, if Simon did know, it was only a matter of time before it came up and Xavier lost you forever.

Fueled by anxiety and desperation, Xavier had dressed and left the house in a flurry, drove over and at the speed limit in frenzied intervals as he'd forgotten and remembered it by turns. He'd arrived at your place faster than ever before only to discover that, according to Abigail, you'd left about forty-five minutes earlier. Granted, you hadn't explicitly said you'd want to spend the morning by yourself at home, but Xavier couldn't shake the feeling that something was utterly and profoundly wrong.

Why go to the school alone? Why leave him out of it? An agitated growl ruptured from his throat as he smacked the steering wheel, tears springing to his eyes unbidden. He pulled in huge gulps of air to stop himself from tipping into a panicked breakdown, begged the universe or God or whatever was out there that he was overthinking it, that you weren't slipping away from him and everything was okay, it was all going to be okay.

Except it wasn't okay. He'd fucked up and fucked around and made you participate by sending texts about band practices that'd never been scheduled, lies about how you'd needed help around the house and Xavier was family so he'd been obligated to assist. Jesus Christ, what had he done? He couldn't breathe, a balloon in his chest that expanded the closer he got to the school. When he pulled in and saw your mother's car, he was already one foot into a mental crisis.

He parked beside your mother's car and sat for a moment, filtering through a litany of excuses and reasons and apologies to retch at your feet in libation. Xavier couldn't. lose. you. Not you. The only person left in his life who fucking mattered. Hurt and anger and grief and hopelessness funneled into him, a tornado of self-deprecation howling insults that ricocheted inside his skull, the torment building and building and—

"FUCK." He belted, smashing the steering wheel over and over again until his body collapsed forward and he heaved a thick, wet sob.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

The other vertices in the barrier projected outward from symbols that varied slightly from the first you'd found. Two were etched in stone, one in a tree planted on the same alignment as the other, and the last had been burned so thoroughly into the dirt that you couldn't dig under it or dig it up.

"Can we call it magic now?" Ajay folded his arms and thinned his lips in a dour line as he watched you dog-dig at the dirt from a new angle. "Because this feels like magic."

You huffed and let yourself fall back on your bum, mopping the sweat from your brow with the sleeve of your sweater. "I mean, it's harnessed energy," you countered, still reluctant to call it something so fantastical when you had dirt caked under your fingernails and math class in twenty minutes. Those mundane, ultra-ordinary truths made it difficult to reconcile the existence of something Harry Potter fought a war with.

Ajay wasn't having it, "Girl, just say it. It's magic."

A squawky noise of denial later and you snapped a picture of the symbol on your phone, finally standing and returning to your backpack which you'd left at Ajay's feet. You dug out the notebook you'd used to scribble down the Futhark alphabet last night before tiptoeing back into Aiden's room and compared the symbol in the dirt to the runes on the page.

"It's like the others," You observed, "It has all the binding elements, except this one also has an extra line here..." You indicated, chewed your lip in thought, frustrated when nothing jumped out at you. Whoever had created these symbols and performed the ritual that accompanied them had either not known anything about the Futhark runes or they'd known too much. Which meant that you had no way of decoding the bastardized symbols by yourself. At least, not without major effort.

"An extra line?" Ajay echoed, "To make us extra trapped?"

You slanted him an unimpressed look, "No, Sassy McQueen...but also kind of yes."

Ajay flashed a victorious grin then crouched to look over your shoulder at your notebook. "Why would someone want to trap ghosts here?"

"Maybe they didn't." You considered as you brainstormed aloud, "Maybe they wanted to trap something and didn't realize the effect their spell—"

"Which is magic."

"—Nghyah," You declined and then continued, "The effect their spell would have on the different realms within the parcel they created."

"I know English isn't my first language, but I can tell that wouldn't make sense to anyone."

You rolled your eyes, clapping your notebook closed and filing it away in your backpack. "Think of the spell like a box. Whoever cast it brought that box down on this specific location, trapping everything in this location in it. But it only affects things outside of the physical world because it's not a physical box."

"...Have you ever seen the Witches of Eastwick?"

"Have you?"

You straightened, bowing your back to loosen the stiffness that had collected in your spine. Ajay took responsibility of your backpack and together you and he walked back toward the school.

After a short silence, Ajay spoke, "You know, Wally mentioned a cult that used to practice around here. He's really into that spooky-ooky, creepy shit." He emphasized with spirit fingers.

You stopped and stared after Ajay, eyes round and mouth ajar, "Wally? Golden retriever, football bro, Wally?"

Ajay turned to walk backward, smiling, "Oh yeah. He was into it before he died, too. A real savant of the deranged history of Split River." He pondered you for a moment and then muttered, "You know you two are allowed to talk when you're alone, right?"

Kissing your teeth, you resumed your stride, waving Ajay off, "In our defense, we haven't actually had a lot of time to be alone since we started talking."

Ajay snorted, but merrily settled his pace to match yours, his gait slower and longer, "He was alive during the rise of the Satanic Panic. If I'm remembering right, he told me about a cult called the Something-Something of Dagda."

"Very helpful."

"They were established before Milwaukee was founded and then faded out of history for awhile."

You sighed drearily, having heard similar tales through the family grapevine as well as your own special-interest research, "Let me guess, the Something-Something of Dagda made a comeback in the '20s when it was fashionable to be associated with the occult?"

Ajay nodded, "I think that's what Wally said. Apparently, they crawled back into the shadows, never to be heard from again, just after the Second World War."

"Typical," You chuckled, shaking your head, "You join a resurrectionist cult and then leave when—"

"How do you know it was resurrectionist?"

"I'm assuming." You confessed, "Dagda is a Celtic god whose staff can resurrect or kill whoever he clubs with it." When Ajay acknowledged your answer with a low oh, you expanded on your previous point, "I guess the members didn't like that their sons didn't all come home in one piece." To put it crudely. Unfortunately, that was the reality of many cults borne from the spiritualism boom in the 1920s. People either got bored or got bitter when their prophet couldn't stand and deliver in the face of a catastrophic global event.

You and Ajay entered the theater from the side door to avoid the students who began to flood the halls as the morning trundled toward the first bell. You found Maddie rising like the second coming out of the center of the stage, followed closely by Wally and then Rhonda, Charley, and lastly, Mina who turned and closed the trap door behind her.

"You find anything?" You inquired as Wally neared you, eagerness writ all over his features.

"Yeah!" Wally grinned, planting himself in front of you to band his arms around your waist, "You?"

"The symbols are definitely based on the Futhark alphabet and they're all designed to keep energies in." You said, snuggling into his front, happy to let him take your weight. He shifted you around so you and he could walk toward the stage, everyone gathered around a spot at the end of the center aisle. Rhonda and Charley sat on the edge of the stage, Ajay joined Mina who leaned beside Charley's legs, and Maddie stood with her back to the door, facing everyone.

As soon as you were within reach, she held out a piece of paper, informing you that, "It's a receipt for new band uniforms signed by Mr. Anderson." You scanned the paper, trying to absorb where it fit in the puzzle, but your brain was rapidly losing steam. Seeming to read your fatigue, Maddie interpreted it on your behalf, "I think he's been stealing money from Booster Club. He's got a whole operation under the stage to sew new patches onto old band uniforms."

All you could think to respond with was, "Holy shit."

"It doesn't prove he had anything to do with what happened to me," Maddie went on, "But I think it'll help Simon."

"Maddie this is awesome." You smiled encouragingly and shambled forward to hug her. With your arm still around her shoulders, you and she looked over the receipt again, particularly the cash amount at the bottom, "Is that how much you figure was in the closet?"

"I'd say it for sure is." She answered, her gaze turning a trepidatious sort of hopeful, "It's Friday, so there's a staff meeting tonight. If we give this to Simon, he can prove that Mr. Anderson is guilty of something and then we can try to figure out where my body is. Together."

"Together." You repeated with a grin because, God dammit, finally, you felt like progress was being made. While not the kind of progress you'd hoped for, it was something, and now that you knew Simon could see Maddie, you didn't have to swerve around landmines in conversation to hide your abilities; you could let him in instead.

It was one step closer to bringing Maddie home.

‗‗‗‗•‗‗‗‗

Xavier hated himself more than he had before his breakdown, having succumbed to the siren call of his vape in the dissociative aftermath. He skulked into the school, shoulders up and hands stuffed in his pockets in an effort to make himself invisible. He wasn't going to his first class, wasn't entirely aware of where he was going, but he followed his feet nonetheless. Since the blissful first hit, his mind had quieted some, though his nerves were still ragged, eyes puffy and bloodshot, hair rumpled, a scab on his lip where he'd bitten it too hard to redirect the emotional pain he'd inflicted on himself.

He was distantly surprised to find himself standing in front of the theater when he eventually lifted his gaze from the ground. Without giving it too much thought, he reached out and opened the door, stepping into the shadowy space beyond. For a moment, a cotton-candy static fuzzed across his brain and made it hard to process whether or not what his eyes saw was real.

It couldn't be, could it?

At the end of the center aisle, you stood, body wilted from exhaustion. Around you were incoherent silhouettes that phased in and out of focus, nothing substantial to them, just distorted shadows that seemed out of place against the direction of what muted light filtered into the theater. What made his breath catch and the balloon in his chest swell bigger wasn't you, standing in the dark, or the uncanny shadows, it was—

"Maddie," He croaked, voice reedy and tight, "You came back."

The fuzziness in his head was instantly replaced by fear when his gaze slid to you, an expression on your face—wide eyes, parted lips, furrowed brows—that Xavier readily interpreted as betrayal. The darkness crowded against him, the rampage of wailing curses picked up within him again, screaming at him for how worthless and stupid and vile he was to do what he'd done.

"I-I'm so sorry," He choked out, pushing the words past the balloon that had expanded from his chest into his throat. Maddie's expression didn't change, something akin to alarm or hate or defeat or all three, he didn't know because his vision was beginning to cloud. "I'm so, so sorry." And then he stumbled sideways, falling into one of the empty seats, curling himself into a ball as if he could make himself disappear. Everything would be better, so much better, if he could just...stop being.

Xavier didn't realize he was crying until he felt your hands on him, pushing his arms away from his head, forcing him to kneel on the ground with you.

"Zav? What's happening? Are you okay? Zav!"

Your words sounded spoken through water and he couldn't get his head above the surface, couldn't breathe, couldn't answer, his body wracked violently with stinging sobs as he kept trying to apologize. He grappled at your back, pinned you against him, a buoy to keep him afloat as the waves crashed over him and threatened to pull him down into the cavernous abyss below.

"I'm sorry, please, don't leave me, I'm so sorry," He begged you, but couldn't hear himself, so he repeated them louder and louder until his throat scraped.

This is the moment, a facsimile of Maddie's voice told him, this is the moment you lose everyone.

And then another voice, unfamiliar, louder than Xavier's, louder than Maddie's, began to roar:

💀___________________________

PART TWENTY-THREE

note: i am of the belief that Mr. South is spooky in his own right and doesn't need Reader to expose him to the supernatural. agree with me or not, his ominous words to Simon at the beginning of the season set me on a path that i can't ignore 🤭

i really hope you guys are okay with how i'm reworking this. i know i gave away a pretty major spoiler, and i regret that so much because i dearly want you all to enjoy this, but it had to be done. otherwise i was more than likely going to throw in the towel. rest assured, there is SO MUCH more to unfold.

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ABOUT THE TAGLIST: y'all know, it ain't a thing around here anymore due to the overuse of ritual magic, some demon-summoning, and an unfortunate sacrifice that resulted in more technical issues than tumblr could handle 🔮🗡️ if you'd like to be kept up-to-date, please FOLLOW ME and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS. we have fun here (•¯ ∀ ¯•)

[sicariodechinchulines]

Damijon headcanon: Dami doesn't flirt, he COURTS.

•We tend to forgot WHERE and HOW Damian was raised. He just doesn't get the concept "Highschool sweetheart". when he first mentioned that, they were at a gala.

"-Im not interested on playdates, that's a waste of time.-" and they nodded because that's SOOO him, but then... "-If someone is interested on my being and dare to ask for my hand, I expect them to be ready for marriage. If not, then is just to be mean a ephemeral game that I won't even bother to remember, they shouldn't either."

Unnecessary to say that reporters we're so fucking excited with that response, so much that they didn't notice Dick Grayson hanging from a chandelier.

• and yes, he had a girlfriend before, even shared some kisses with other ladies and acted like a gentleman for them, but the truth is: he didn't take them seriously.

• Dami was ready for living alone and single, that's not the big deal, but Jon appeared again, and things started to get weird... in an amusing and warming way. Jon was now a mature good looking man, strong and good-natured as always. The little naive and childish boy was gone, and now was a man; a man worthy of his attention, in any areas.

• Without saying ANYTHING about his feels, he started to court Jon in the way he learned was appropriate, the problem is: Jon Kent is not a lady.

AND IS NEITHER SINGLE.

• Flowers, luxurious gifts and expensive jewelry. People started to suspect if Jon became some type of sugar baby for Damian, but when is questioned, Jon unsuspecting, answer "I don't know, rich people are weird"

• yes, people, Damian does HOLD the doors open for Jon, while ignoring the people behind, usually ending on them smashing their faces with the door.

• They rarely travel on cars, but when they do, Dami open the door for him; the bats are BEWILDERED by that.

• Needless to say that Jay DOES want to beat the shit out of him. (I don't blame him, if a sort of Arabic prince- heir of one of the biggest fortune in the world- a fucking Robin is trying to conquer MY boyfriend, I would love to beat the shit out of him too.)

Even if he's mad at him, don't see the point on competing with a child, because after all he's not even 15.

• Everyone knows that this boy is weird in SOOO many ways, but waiting 4 years until the object of your courtship is legally able to touch you, is little to much... even for Superman, who lost his virginity in his late twenties.

• Clark never say anything about that matter, first because he doesn't want to feed rumors, and second..

Because if he ADMIT that he would be okay with Damian marrying his son, Batman will KILL HIM.

•Even if he is worried about the future that Damian and Jon hold as best friends or partners, he can't denied that Damian devotion to Jon is cute.

Sorry but Clark is a hopeless romantic who loves his wife DEEPLY

(and he doesn't like Jay at all, he doesn't knows him as much he would like, neither is happy with the amount of info about his son that is on internet now thanks to jay's activism... but this ray of sunshine don't talk about that because, wHAT IF HE IS BEING HOMOPHOBIC OR SOMETHING?? Don't want to stress his boy with that.)

• after the SHOW Damian Wayne gave at that gala talking about his expectations on a partner and the PROPER way of courtship, the rumors about the younger Wayne being a heartbreaker like his father were over. NOW, they love to talk about how amazing and romantic Damian would be as a boyfriend.

When in an interview, a reporter mentioned Tim Drake-Wayne the titular "The teens dream: A prince like Damian Wayne. His thoughts about dating and how court a lady" he dissociated for 1 whole minute.

• the worst-best come now. Still hanging from that titular a journalist did DARE to ask about PRE-MARITAL SEX. (yes, Bruce demanded that journalist, yes, Bruce won.)

"- Isn't obvious? I'm against it, at least for myself. I don't find shame on waiting the proper person to lost your virginity with... even if I fall in love with SOMEONE who isn't virgin anymore, I'll wait anyway."

And yes, that was a hint for Jon. Jon didn't get it, but the press did.

It was funny how teen boys were so spiteful towards him and how teen girls were so delighted. Damian set the bar so high for Gotham boys.

• even with all the gifts and flowers and food, Jon is the ONLY ONE who don't notice. His mother did, his father did, Batman, Redhood, RedRobin and Nightwing DID, even StARFIRE AND THAT'S A LOT. a night after a mission she just said "Correct me if I'm wrong... but the little Robin is courting Superman according his culture standards, isn't?" And the whole Bat Boys just stared.

"That's adorable... a little gentleman!"

• They usually cuddle. It was hard for Jon getting used to it after YEARS gone, but Damian was weirdly okay with it, even pleased Jon can say.

But there was something unsettling. He don't cuddle him as before, instead he do it in a way that makes Jon feel incredibly conscious about himself, but safe anyway.

Damian does it on purpose, holding Jon head close to his chest when they are on the couch, caressing the side of Jon's jaw and lightly touching his temple.

If Jon is being lucky and Damian too tired, he will press his nose against his curls and close his eyes, answering anything with a lazy "mmh"

• Bruce is worried. He's not Clark, he's not tHAT optimistic. He knows his son and how unhinged and dangerous he can be, and see this said devotion as a time bomb. What if Jon is not that good??? Or Damian manage to CONQUER the teen's heart and decide to guide him into a darker path???? Jon probed that he can DIE for him in most of one occasion, Damian is starting to act the same and is unsettling.

Sorry if isn't readable, my mother language is Spanish and i learned English from comics, translator and weirdly poetic AO3 p0rn. If you're that kind, please point out my mistakes or care to give me an advice so I can better my grammar, ty so much!!!!

[dangerousdan-dan]

Hold up, I need to rant about this because I'm upset with how some of you are attacking My Adventures with Superman's Lois for what happened in episode 5.

Thing is, Clark's desire to keep his secret is valid, but so is Lois's frustration. She was worried about Clark, and she only turned to anger when he didn't let her express her worries and treated her like she was stupid when it was more than obvious that she already knew what was going on.

Again, Clark is allowed to want to keep his identity a secret, but a lot of people are using that as an excuse to call Lois unreasonable and a bitch, when her reaction was nothing but human.

You all loved her because she was adventurous, a rebel, strong-willed, and inquisitive, but now you hate her because she dared point those feeling towards Clark and then got angry with him? Mmh, interesting.

Oh, wow, what a surprise, Lois isn't perfect! Oh, wow, how dare she feel anything but smitten with Clark? What a monster.

You all love your female characters until they show themselves imperfect, or they disagree with the male lead character (regardless of if they're right or wrong). It's a known fact that misogyny is more than present in the comic world and its fandom, but some of you don't even try to hide it. Look me in the eye and tell me they would attack a male character the way they're attacking Lois if he had had the same reaction? Come on.

[ambriel-angstwitch]

Batman Hush Thoughts Part 2

(Batman 611-612)

It’s sort of funny to see little Bruce so in awe of and excited to see Green Lantern when now he doesn’t get along very well with Green Lantern

I feel like not being in Gotham should make them safer actually.

They spent the whole time looking for a hero but soon they would be faced with what turned Bruce into a hero.

It’s still so sad that they drifted apart because they look like such good friends in all the flash backs.

How dare you assume it’s a girl Tommy? What if it was a boy Tommy? (I mean it’s not this time but it could be)

I love how his only complaint about his wife and best friend flirting with eachother is that it’s not appropriate office behavior.

Like guys flirt some other time. PDA is not ok

(Also another incident of Bruce having chemistry with literally everyone)

I love how well they know eachother

(Also refer to what I said about Bruce having chemistry with everyone)

Ahh! I’m going to cry. I love Batman’s self critical thoughts though they make me sad.

But it makes me happy to see the reverence he has for Superman even if his goodness is exploited as a weakness. They have so much respect for eachother

I love how Batman is just a shadow man in this panel.

I love how his entire plan rests on the pure goodness of Superman which he has no doubt in (though Catwoman could catch Lois if things went south)

I love that Superman’s desire not to hurt Batman is strong enough that he can hold back despite Ivy’s orders.

Love the glance between Bruce and Selina and the immediate agreement. It’s so cute

Why the … before friends? Why did you hesitate on friends Bruce?

I love their little nicknames for eachother.

I love the sheer trust that Clark shows for Bruce giving him a weapon to hurt him

< Prev Next >

[crimsonxe]

I'm late but spoilers below the cut:

Always love and gotta admit to having a weak spot to the whole "persona A is hit with a forgetting thing (tech or magic) to not remember person B then the feelings for them are so strong it pulls the memories back cause our souls themselves are connected that much." idea.

Loved Lois and Clark breaking through the simulation field as the super-couple

Loved the Lois gets to be a superwoman because in Clark's eyes that's what she is. Like fuuuuuuuuck you know that'll get under the skin of the chuds cause they'll bitch about Clark being made a beta or whatever bullshit. Cause how dare a dude actually value the strength of his partner instead of putting himself as the center of the universe and need to assert his strength over them.

[justmenoworries]

Watching Justice League X RWBY (both parts) is such an amazing experience because you can't help but burst out laughing at seeing how incredibly insecure RT is about having RWBY stand next to DC characters.

They want to be acknowledged as DC's equal so bad, it's hilarious.

The DC characters are constantly made into jokes or just flat-out incompetent, just so a RWBY character can swoop in at the last second to save them or give them a heroic speech. No DC character can ever have anything cool for themselves, it needs to be undermined or undercut by someone from Remnant. Diana and Bruce have to lose to Blake and Weiss respectively because we need to establish how superior Team RWBY is in combat to these actual adults who have been wiping the floor with supervillains before Blake and Weiss were even a thing. Clark has to be put in his place by Ruby and Yang and isn't allowed to be leader because what else were we gonna do here? Acknowledge that Ruby's own leadership skills are severely lacking and have her learn from a fellow symbol of hope? Pfft, naah.

The RWBY characters have an almost pathological need to make fun of the DC heroes' aliases and no one points out the inherent hypocrisy there for Reasons. Like, how are you gonna make fun of names like "Batman" and "Superman" when y'all's team names are just edgy alphabet soup??? And your given names are shit like Raven Blessed Raven, White Snow or Sunshine Dragon (in languages from countries that don't even exist in your world)????

And the bootlicking, holy shit, the constant bootlicking.

Bruce is so completely fucking awed by the mere existence of Weiss and Yang he actually thinks about abandoning Gotham for Remnant, because that's not completely nonsensical and out of character at all. Diana is suddenly a callous jerk who dismisses the other Leaguers for not being "warriors" and connects more to Team RWBY because they, like her, are "warriors" (Diana, did the matrix glitch your brain and make you forget the literal fucking years the Justice League have fought by your side???). Vic is super into Nora because we needed to have a dick-measuring contest between him and Ren for Reasons. Clark needs to take a backseat to Ruby as leader because if anyone but Ruby "Power of the Special" Rose got to lead the group, RWBY stans would probably suffer an aneurysm. Oh and Jessica has insecurity issues and has to be given a peptalk from fucking Jaune of all characters!! (Oh, and she's also been white-washed because RT gotta do an RT.)

When someone from the DC universe does something cool? They immediately get upstaged or humiliated for daring to be characters in a RWBY world.

When someone from Remnant does something even mildly impressive? Non-stop praise, tongue-lashing and kowtowing from the DC characters.

And if you think this situation gets reversed in part 2, where the RWBY characters go to the DC universe, turning them into the fishes out of water?

You get to eat shit.

Because the premise to both parts is basically, "The Justice League cannot handle whatever messed up shit the bad guys are throwing at them and so they seek help from the amazing, strong, powerful, superior, magnificient, lauded, divine Team RWBY".

Part 1? Justice League gets trapped in the matrix with Team RWBY and since the simulation is of Remnant, the JL has to defer to the Remnant characters

Part 2? Grimm show up on the DC Earth and despite being back to full power the Justice League still can't handle them, so they call in Team RWBY.

Yeah.

The point of a crossover like this is to show the strength of both casts and how well they play off of each other.

But RT is so fucking insecure over Team RWBY standing next to actual heroes they couldn't help themselves.

It would be funny if it weren't so sad.

[whywoulditho]

ough... sorry for jumping in when you said you're still reading stuff, i hope this doesn't come off annoying or anything! but that thing the prev anon said about timkon is... a WILD take.

tim wasn't trying to "replace" kon, he was having a grief-induced mental health spiral and was doing anything and everything to get a chance of getting his best friend back. (the "resurrection of ra's al ghul" event goes over this too - tim and dick have a short fight that ends in tim crying in dick's arms because tim was tempted to use a lazarus pit to try and bring back his dad, steph brown, and/or kon.) it's an unhealthy coping mechanism he exhibits during a period of his life where he's experienced several catastrophic losses back to back, and he's coping poorly. moreover he literally apologized to kon for trying to clone him in adventure comics (2009) #3.

also saying that kon is created as a replacement for superman is true, but acting like he never has an established character outside of "replacement for superman" or that other characters treat him as just a replacement superman, is not. in world's finest three (tim and kon's first meeting) we literally see tim initially turn to kon for backup with metallo, a superman villain, and at first he's dismayed that kon doesn't have all of superman's abilities, but over the course of the two issues, he admires kon's use of his ttk and they establish a mutual respect with each other (they both save each other's lives at the end).

and generally, kon & clark have a very positive relationship in postcrisis comics (aka the continuity that the cloning stuff with tim happens in) - if you want to see more of it, i'd rec "adventures of superman" #506 and superboy (1994) #59 and #70. kon definitely has plenty of issues, but his identity and relationship to superman aren't really the ones in question. (although i'll admit there is the caveat that kon's [lack of] superman-related identity issues is kind of soft retconned in teen titans (2003), which is where the lex luthor retcon is introduced - fun fact, luthor has nothing to do with kon initially!)

this got long i'm SO sorry - it just gets my goat when people tell straight up lies about comics to people who are just getting into reading comics 😭😭 i hope i didn't come off aggressive bc thats def not my intention but i'm sorry if i did!! and i hope you enjoy your comic journey and have fun with it overall!!!

do NOT apologize! i really appreciate this!!

i have a couple more people on my inbox yelling things like "how dare you even entertain the thought of them together!!!" i wasnt expecting to see so much passion on this subject when i first talked about it but it seems like DC comics fans have very strong opinions about that pairing hahaa

as i said in my previous reply to that anon, i really need to do my own reading before i form an opinion on the ship but your reflections seem very fair and i really appreciate the comic recommendations! and honestly, the whole reason i was interested in timkon was that their relationship seemed very complicated, and therefore very angsty, which is what i live for. so i do really understand why some people like it and some hate the idea of it. from what i've seen so far.... i like it. but i can't really speak on whether or not it is compatible with the canon dynamic of the characters. does that make sense?

also like on another note. HOW do you guys give such specific references when talking about these things?? 😭 DC universe seems HUGE and i have no clue where to start and then i see people giving like the exact issue number of events and stuff and i'm like.....HOW?? and also like. teach me. guide me. i'm lost 😭 HQJSKFKCJDJ

[vodrae]

Inspired by everything @daminette-56 has done for humanity (daminette and al-ghul fandom)

This, ladies and gentlemen, is why Dick needed years of meditation to stand Talia :

Bruce is driving back from Metropolis, him and Dick just had dinner with Clark, he was still single at the moment. Bruce had a appointement, there, so even if Clark can fly to the manor at speedlight, it was not necessary this time.

B : You behaved real good. I'm proud of you, chum.

Dick is flexing his muscles in the mirror and says

D: He said he became this strong because his mom fed him a lot of meat when he was young ! I'm gonna do the same.

B: It was a joke, chum. He gets his strenght from the sunlight.

D: I'm gonna eat meat outside.

Bruce laughs and the conversation stops there.

The day after, Bruce don't go to bed after patrol, a few hours later, a very pretty asian lady comes in, she has several luggaes with her.

B: Chum! Come say, hello! This is Talia my...oldest friend from my training years.

T: What beautiful boy you have! What is you name, sweetheart ?

D: Dick. I'm Dick. Nice to meet you.

T: Why are you blaming yourself like that ? Do we need a pediatrician ?

B: No, no! It's a old fashioned way to say Richard. His parents were immigrants and wanted him to have a local name.

T: I see. I'm so glad to meet my beloved's child. We're going to be great friends!

Day after day Dick is constantly chewing on meat. Meatloaf, sandwiches, beef jerky. One day Talia as the audacity to say.

T: Hey sweetie, I made vegetables from my country, do you want to taste it ?

How dare she ?

Later, when Dick is trying to fullfilled himself with boeuf bourguignon, she's even has the audacity to say.

T : If you are full we can put it in the freezer for later, there is more than enough for next time.

D: You don’t want me to be superman !

T: Wha-

D: You're trying to stop me to become strong !

T: No I-

D: Good night!

And he ran dramatically to his room.

This came out way longer that I thout it would be.

[reallygroovyninja]

I'm so emotional after reading Lexa comforting Clarke about her size 🥺 It was such a lovely and tender moment between them. Would you consider writing their first time being intimate and how they navigate Clarke's insecurity together?

Clarke stood in front of the mirror, her reflection staring back at her with uncertainty. Her relationship with Lexa had been evolving rapidly. They had passed the point of casual dating; they were on the cusp of consummating their relationship. Clarke knew it. She could feel it in the way Lexa's eyes lingered on her, in the way their touches became more daring and their kisses more passionate.

But with that realization came a growing anxiety that gnawed at Clarke's confidence. Lexa was everything she had ever wanted—intelligent, compassionate, strong—and the thought of disappointing her in any way was unbearable. Clarke's worries revolved around a singular, deeply personal issue: her size. She wasn't as well-endowed as other alphas, and the fear that Lexa, as an omega, might value that particular trait was starting to consume her thoughts.

Clarke's hands clenched the edge of the sink, her knuckles turning white. She had always been confident, secure in her abilities and her identity. But this—this was different. This was about meeting Lexa's expectations, about being enough for the omega she was falling for.

"Get a grip, Griffin," she muttered to herself. "Lexa loves you for who you are, not just what you have."

Still, the doubt lingered. She remembered overhearing conversations between omegas over the years, snippets of their desires and preferences. The size of an alpha's penis was often discussed with a mix of awe and expectation. Clarke had never paid much attention then, but now those words echoed in her mind, amplifying her insecurities.

Tonight, she was heading to Lexa's place to watch a movie. It was a classic setup, the kind that had become a cliché in the dating world. Clarke knew what that implied, and the thought both excited and terrified her.

She glanced at her reflection in the mirror again, her thoughts a tangled mess of anxiety. The evening had been planned casually—Lexa had suggested a movie night, and Clarke had eagerly agreed. But as the time to leave approached, Clarke's mind couldn't stop racing.

"What if she rejects me?" Clarke muttered to herself, her eyes dropping to her reflection below her waist.

Clarke's hands shook slightly as she ran them through her hair, trying to steady her nerves. She had always been confident in other areas of her life, but this—this was deeply personal. The thought of not measuring up in this way was almost unbearable.

"Just be yourself," she told her reflection firmly. "Lexa loves you for you, not for what's in your pants."

Still, as Clarke grabbed her jacket and headed out the door, the doubts lingered. The drive to Lexa's apartment felt longer than usual, each mile giving her more time to worry. By the time she arrived, her heart was pounding.

She sat in her parked car for several minutes, trying to calm her racing thoughts and gather the courage to face whatever awaited her inside. With a deep breath, she finally stepped out of the vehicle, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth of her anxiety.

Clarke stood in front of Lexa's apartment door, she took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves, and knocked lightly. Within moments, the door swung open, and there stood Lexa, a radiant smile on her face. Clarke barely had time to say hello before Lexa's lips were on hers, the kiss far more passionate than their usual greeting.

Lexa's arms wrapped around Clarke, pulling her closer, and Clarke felt the intensity of the kiss deep in her core. This was different. There was a fire in Lexa's touch, a hunger that hadn't been there before. When they finally pulled apart, Clarke's breath was coming in short gasps, her heart racing even faster.

"Hi," Lexa whispered against her lips, her voice filled with warmth and desire.

"Hi," Clarke managed to reply, her own voice barely a whisper.

Lexa took her hand, leading her inside. The apartment felt different tonight, too. There was a certain intimacy in the air, a sense of anticipation that made Clarke's pulse quicken. They moved to the living room, but instead of settling on the couch as usual, Lexa pulled Clarke into another deep kiss, her hands roaming more boldly.

Clarke's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The fear and anxiety she'd felt earlier were still there, but they were being overshadowed by the overwhelming desire she felt for Lexa. She knew, without a doubt, that this was the night they would sleep together. The realization both thrilled and terrified her.

Lexa pulled back slightly, looking into Clarke's eyes. "I've been looking forward to tonight all day," she confessed, her fingers tracing soft patterns on Clarke's arm.

"Me too," Clarke admitted, her voice shaky but sincere.

Lexa smiled, a look of pure adoration in her eyes. "Let's watch that movie," she suggested, though the way she said it made it clear that the movie was just a prelude to something much more.

They settled down on the couch, the glow of the TV casting a soft light across the room. Clarke's heart was still racing from the passionate greeting at the door. She tried to focus on the movie, but within moments, Lexa's hand began to rub up and down her thigh, the touch sending electric sparks through Clarke's body.

Clarke could feel her body reacting to Lexa's touch, her skin tingling with anticipation. Lexa's hand moved with a slow, deliberate rhythm, each stroke igniting a fire within her. Clarke's breath hitched, and she shifted slightly, trying to control her reactions. But with every pass of Lexa's hand, Clarke's mind started to wander back to her insecurities.

The fear of her penis size crept up on her again, mingling with the arousal Lexa was stirring. Clarke's throat tightened, her earlier confidence wavering. She knew Lexa loved her for who she was, but the doubt was persistent, gnawing at the edges of her mind.

Lexa's touch grew bolder, her fingers tracing patterns that made Clarke's pulse race even faster. Clarke turned her head to look at Lexa, finding those green eyes filled with desire. It was a look that both thrilled and terrified her. She needed to address her fears, but the words seemed stuck in her throat.

Before Clarke could say anything, Lexa moved in for a passionate kiss, her lips capturing Clarke's with a fervor that took her breath away.

The kiss was intense, all-consuming. Lexa's hand continued its slow exploration of Clarke's thigh, while her other hand cupped Clarke's cheek, holding her close. Clarke melted into the kiss, her fears momentarily forgotten in the heat of the moment. Lexa's lips were soft but insistent, coaxing a response from Clarke that was both instinctive and eager.

Clarke's hands found their way to Lexa's waist, pulling her closer as the kiss deepened. Lexa's tongue brushed against Clarke's, and a soft moan escaped her lips. The sound seemed to spur Lexa on, her hand moving higher up Clarke's thigh, dangerously close to where Clarke's insecurities lay.

As they finally pulled apart, both breathing heavily, Lexa rested her forehead against Clarke's. "I want you," Lexa whispered, her voice husky with desire. "All of you."

Before Clarke knew it, Lexa had shifted and was now straddling Clarke's lap, her legs on either side of Clarke's hips. The sudden movement took Clarke by surprise, but the feel of Lexa's body pressed so intimately against hers ignited a fire within her. Lexa's hands cupped Clarke's face, and she leaned in, capturing Clarke's lips in a passionate kiss.

The kiss was intense, filled with a passion that left Clarke breathless. Lexa's tongue teased and explored, coaxing a response from Clarke that was both instinctive and eager. Clarke's hands moved to Lexa's waist, holding her tightly as their lips moved in perfect sync.

Clarke could feel the heat radiating from Lexa's body, the weight of her straddling Clarke's lap adding to the growing arousal. Lexa's hands trailed down Clarke's neck, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin and sending shivers down Clarke's spine. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of them in this bubble of desire and need.

As the kiss deepened, Clarke felt her own hands moving almost of their own accord. One hand slid up Lexa's side, following the curve of her body until it found its way to Lexa's breast. Clarke hesitated for a moment, the soft, warmth under her palm making her heart race even faster. But Lexa's response—a soft, encouraging moan—gave her the confidence to continue.

Clarke's fingers gently stroked Lexa's breast, feeling the firmness beneath the fabric of her shirt. Lexa's breath hitched, and she pressed closer, her hips grinding slightly against Clarke's. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through Clarke, making her grip Lexa's waist tighter with her other hand.

Lexa broke the kiss, her lips trailing down Clarke's jaw to her neck. She nipped and kissed the sensitive skin there, her breath hot against Clarke's ear. "Clarke," she murmured, her voice a husky whisper, "I want you so much."

Clarke's own desire surged at Lexa's words. "I want you too," she whispered back, her voice trembling with emotion. She squeezed Lexa's breast gently, her thumb brushing over the peak through the fabric, eliciting another soft moan from Lexa.

Lexa's hips moved in slow, deliberate circles, each motion sending waves of pleasure through Clarke. The feeling of Lexa's body against hers, the sounds of their shared desire filling the room—it was almost overwhelming. Clarke's insecurities still lingered at the edges of her mind, but they were being steadily drowned out by the sheer intensity of their connection.

Lexa's lips found Clarke's again, kissing her deeply, passionately. Clarke responded with an equal hunger, her hand continuing its gentle exploration of Lexa's breast. Every touch, every kiss, seemed to bring them closer, building a tension that was almost unbearable.

Clarke was lost in the sensation of Lexa straddling her lap, their kisses growing more heated by the second. The feel of Lexa's breast under her hand, the softness and warmth, made Clarke's heart race. Lexa's hips moved in slow, deliberate circles, each motion sending waves of pleasure through Clarke.

Then, Clarke felt Lexa's hand begin to move down her body, tracing a path of heat from her chest to her stomach. The anticipation was electrifying, but as Lexa's fingers reached the button on Clarke's pants, a surge of anxiety shot through her. Lexa deftly popped the button open and slowly unzipped her pants. The sound of the zipper seemed to echo in the room, amplifying Clarke's suddenly heightened awareness.

Clarke froze up in the kiss, her breath catching in her throat. All her earlier fears and insecurities rushed back in a torrent. Her mind raced with thoughts of inadequacy, the fear of disappointing Lexa rearing its head once more.

Lexa immediately sensed the change in Clarke. She pulled back slightly, her eyes searching Clarke's face with concern. "Clarke?" she whispered, her voice gentle and soothing. "What's wrong?"

Clarke's heart pounded in her chest, her mouth suddenly dry. She took a shaky breath, trying to steady herself. "I… I'm just… nervous," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Lexa's hand stilled on Clarke's waistband, her other hand moving to cup Clarke's cheek. "Hey, it's okay," she said softly, her thumb brushing reassuringly against Clarke's skin. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

Clarke closed her eyes for a moment, gathering her courage. She knew she needed to talk to Lexa about her fears, but it was so hard to find the right words. Finally, she opened her eyes, meeting Lexa's concerned gaze. "It's not that I don't want this," Clarke began, her voice trembling. "I do. But… I'm worried you might be disappointed when you see me."

Lexa's brow furrowed slightly, her concern deepening. "Disappointed? Clarke, why would I be disappointed?"

Clarke took a deep breath, deciding to lay her fears bare. "I'm not as well-endowed as other alphas," she said, her voice barely a whisper. "And I'm scared that you might be expecting something… more."

For a moment, there was silence. Clarke's heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest. But then Lexa's expression softened, and she leaned in, pressing a tender kiss to Clarke's lips.

"Clarke," Lexa said gently, her eyes filled with love and understanding. "I care about you, not your size. What matters to me is how you make me feel and the connection we share. You're more than enough for me."

Clarke looked down at her crotch, her insecurities still swirling in her mind. She then looked back up into Lexa's eyes, trying to determine if Lexa was truly being sincere. The intensity of the moment made it hard for Clarke to fully believe the reassurances she desperately wanted to hear.

Lexa saw the doubt in Clarke's eyes, her heart aching at the sight of Clarke's vulnerability. She cupped Clarke's face gently, making sure Clarke's gaze stayed locked with hers.

"Clarke," Lexa said softly, her voice filled with tenderness and conviction. "I just want to love you. All of you. Nothing else matters to me."

Clarke searched Lexa's eyes, looking for any hint of doubt or insincerity. But all she saw was pure, unfiltered love. The warmth and honesty in Lexa's gaze made Clarke's heart swell with emotion.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, Clarke's racing heart seemed to slow and quicken at the same time as Lexa leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a tender kiss, soft and reassuring, conveying all the words left unspoken between them.

When they pulled apart, Lexa whispered, "Let me show you how much you mean to me." With that, she moved off of Clarke and positioned herself between Clarke's legs. Lexa's hands found the waistband of Clarke's pants, her movements gentle and deliberate as she helped Clarke remove them. The increasing intimacy of their encounter sent a shiver of anticipation through Clarke's body.

Lexa then did the same with Clarke's underwear, her eyes never leaving Clarke's as she carefully pulled them down. When Lexa pulled down Clarke's underwear, Clarke's penis was starting to get erect. The vulnerability of the moment was overwhelming, but Lexa's touch was nothing but tender and loving.

"You're beautiful," Lexa said softly, her voice filled with genuine admiration. She leaned in closer, her breath warm against Clarke's skin. Clarke's heart pounded in her chest, the mixture of nerves and anticipation almost unbearable.

Without breaking eye contact, Lexa leaned in and took Clarke's member in her mouth, her movements slow and deliberate. Clarke gasped, her body reacting instinctively to the sensation. Lexa's mouth was warm and soft, her tongue skillfully teasing Clarke's sensitive skin.

Clarke's hands gripped the couch, her mind a whirlwind of pleasure and emotion. Lexa's touch was everything she needed—reassuring, loving, and full of desire. The doubts and insecurities that had plagued her moments before seemed to melt away, replaced by the overwhelming love and connection she felt with Lexa.

Lexa continued her gentle ministrations, her eyes flicking up to meet Clarke's every so often, ensuring she was giving Clarke exactly what she needed. Clarke's breath came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with the intensity of the moment.

"Lexa," Clarke whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Lexa responded with a soft hum, the vibrations adding to Clarke's pleasure. Lost in the sensation of Lexa's mouth on her, each movement sent waves of ecstasy coursing through Clarke's body. Her mind was a whirlwind of emotions—love, desire, and a deep sense of connection. In this moment, Clarke felt completely and utterly cherished by the woman she adored.

As much as Clarke was enjoying the feel of Lexa's mouth on her, she wanted more. She wanted to be closer to Lexa, to make love to her and show her just how much she meant. The intensity of her feelings built until Clarke couldn't hold back any longer. She reached down, gently cupping Lexa's face and guiding her to look up.

"Lexa," Clarke breathed, her voice trembling with emotion. "I want to make love to you. Can we go to your bedroom?"

Lexa's eyes sparkled with affection and understanding. She slowly released Clarke, placing a soft kiss on Clarke's inner thigh before moving up. Lexa stood and offered her hand to Clarke, helping her up from the couch. Their fingers interlaced, and Clarke felt a surge of anticipation.

"Of course," Lexa whispered, her voice filled with tenderness. She led Clarke through the living room, down the hallway, and into her bedroom. The room was softly lit, the atmosphere intimate and inviting.

Clarke's heart raced as Lexa closed the door behind them. They stood for a moment, taking each other in. Lexa stepped closer, wrapping her arms around Clarke and pulling her into a deep, passionate kiss. Clarke's hands found their way to Lexa's back, pulling her even closer as their lips moved together in perfect harmony.

As they kissed, Lexa's hands moved to the hem of Clarke's shirt, slowly lifting it up and over her head. Clarke raised her arms to help, feeling a shiver of anticipation as the cool air touched her skin. Lexa's eyes roamed over Clarke's exposed body, filled with admiration and desire. She then reached behind Clarke, deftly unclasping her bra and sliding it off, revealing Clarke's breasts.

Clarke's breath hitched as Lexa's hands gently cupped her breasts, her thumbs brushing over the sensitive peaks. Lexa leaned in, placing soft kisses along Clarke's collarbone, trailing down to her chest. Clarke's hands found their way to the buttons of Lexa's shirt, her fingers trembling slightly as she began to undo them one by one.

Lexa shrugged off her shirt, and Clarke's hands moved to the waistband of Lexa's pants, unbuttoning and unzipping them. Lexa stepped out of her pants, standing before Clarke in just her underwear. Clarke paused to admire her, mesmerized by the beauty and strength of Lexa's form.

Lexa reached for Clarke's hand, guiding her to the bed. Before joining her, Lexa paused, her eyes locked with Clarke's as she slowly removed her underwear, letting them fall to the floor. Clarke's breath hitched at the sight, admiring the beauty of Lexa's fully revealed form.

They lay down together, their bodies pressed close. Clarke's hands roamed over Lexa's curves, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath her fingertips. She marveled at the strength and grace of the woman she loved, her heart overflowing with affection.

"I want you, Lexa," Clarke whispered, her voice filled with sincerity and passion.

"I want you too, Clarke," Lexa replied, her eyes shining with emotion.

As they lay entwined, their breathing heavy, Clarke pressed another lingering kiss to Lexa's lips. The heat between them was undeniable, and Clarke felt an intense need to bring Lexa as much pleasure as she had just experienced.

Clarke began to kiss her way down Lexa's body, her lips trailing over her neck and collarbone, her tongue leaving a path of heat along Lexa's skin. Lexa's breath hitched, her hands tangling in Clarke's hair as she encouraged her downward journey.

Clarke paused to lavish attention on Lexa's breasts, her tongue circling and teasing each nipple before taking one into her mouth. Lexa moaned softly, her back arching slightly off the bed. Clarke's hands continued their exploration, moving down Lexa's sides and over her hips.

Lexa's moans grew louder as Clarke kissed her way down her stomach, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin. Clarke could feel the tension building in Lexa's body, the anticipation in every touch.

When Clarke finally reached Lexa's core, she paused, looking up to meet Lexa's gaze. The desire and love in Lexa's eyes gave Clarke the confidence she needed. She leaned in, her tongue gently parting Lexa's folds, eliciting a sharp gasp from Lexa.

Clarke took her time, her tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, tasting and exploring every inch of Lexa. Lexa's hands tightened in Clarke's hair, her hips moving in response to the pleasure building within her.

"Clarke," Lexa breathed, her voice trembling with need.

Encouraged by Lexa's reactions, Clarke increased the pressure, her tongue finding Lexa's most sensitive spot and focusing on it with determined attention. Lexa's moans grew louder, her body trembling as she edged closer to release.

Clarke slid a finger inside Lexa, curling it to hit just the right spot while her tongue continued its relentless assault. Lexa cried out, her body arching off the bed as waves of pleasure crashed over her. Clarke felt Lexa's muscles tighten around her finger, the intensity of Lexa's orgasm evident in the tremors that ran through her body.

Lexa's cries of pleasure filled the room, her hands gripping Clarke's shoulders as she rode out the waves of her climax. Clarke continued her gentle ministrations, helping Lexa come down from the peak of her pleasure.

She kissed her way back up Lexa's body, savoring every inch of her warm, soft skin. As she reached Lexa's lips, she captured them in a passionate kiss, their tongues intertwining as their bodies pressed together.

Clarke positioned herself between Lexa's legs her erection pressing against Lexa's entrance. Pausing for a moment, Clarke met Lexa's gaze, searching for any sign of hesitation.

Lexa's gaze was filled with love and anticipation. She cupped Clarke's face with her hands, pulling her into another deep kiss. "I need you, Clarke," she whispered against her lips. "Please, make love to me."

Clarke's heart swelled with emotion. She slowly pushed forward, feeling the heat and tightness of Lexa envelop her. Lexa gasped, her nails digging gently into Clarke's shoulders as Clarke entered her fully.

"You feel so good inside me," Lexa murmured, her voice breathy and filled with pleasure.

Clarke's breath hitched at Lexa's words, the sensation of being inside her almost overwhelming. She began to move slowly, pulling out nearly all the way before thrusting back in with deliberate, measured strokes. Lexa's moans grew louder with each thrust, her hips meeting Clarke's rhythm, their bodies moving in perfect harmony.

They kissed passionately, their lips and tongues exploring each other with a newfound intensity. The connection they shared in this moment was unlike anything Clarke had ever experienced.

As Clarke's thrusts became more urgent, she felt herself approaching the edge. Wanting Lexa to join her at the peak of pleasure, she slid one hand between their bodies. Her fingers found Lexa's clit, rubbing in rhythm with her thrusts.

Lexa cried out, her body arching off the bed as the dual sensations drove her wild. Clarke could feel Lexa tightening around her, the pressure almost too much to bear. She increased the speed and intensity of her movements, each thrust and stroke bringing them both closer to the brink.

"Clarke," Lexa gasped, her voice a mixture of pleasure and desperation. "I'm so close."

"Me too," Clarke managed to reply, her own voice strained with the effort of holding back.

With one final thrust, Clarke felt herself tip over the edge. The waves of her orgasm crashed over her, her hips moving erratically as she came inside Lexa. At the same time, her fingers pressed firmly against Lexa's clit, sending Lexa into her own intense climax.

Lexa's cries of pleasure mingled with Clarke's, their bodies trembling and shuddering together as they rode out the waves of their orgasms. Clarke continued to move inside Lexa, prolonging the pleasure for both of them until they were both spent.

When the last tremors finally subsided, Clarke collapsed onto Lexa, their bodies slick with sweat and their hearts pounding in unison. She pulled out gently, rolling to the side and gathering Lexa into her arms. They lay there, tangled together, their breathing slowly returning to normal.

"Tonight was perfect." Lexa whispered, pressing a soft kiss to Clarke’s chest.

Clarke smiled, feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness. As they drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, she knew that this night was just the beginning of something beautiful and enduring.

[nouearth]

not a request but i saw the "send dirtiest thoughts about a character" and well i just wanna share if that's okay!

how bruce/batman does punishments. (all consensual ofc!, and imagine which depiction of bruce do you want)

i can imagine bruce/batman's punishments are rough, if you were ever to make him angry, its probably because you know what you're in for...

a light punishment to him is tying you up and fucking you in his bat suit on the front of the batmobile, but whatever he used to tie you up with has been adjusted to discharge small amounts of electricity at his control, not enough to hurt, but enough to overstimulate you in minutes, always ending with you begging for batman's mercy.

sometimes, punishments happen even outside of the bedroom or the batcave-specifically, in his office, he likes when you go there to visit when he's working overtime or at lunch.

if you were to be particularly daring on a day when you visit during lunch when he's having a bad day in the office, then you better be prepared to get bent over his desk. pants down and clothes messy with a hand wrapped around your neck.

If someone happened to knock on the door to his office, he'd go even faster, asking the person to come in, much to your surprise and humiliation, as he nonchalantly asks what that person wants....word quickly spreads around the office about the playboy billionaire's shenanigans with you, its not like he cares though.

if you were to really get him mad, then it wouldn't be him punishing you-no.

you're tied up and blindfolded, getting spitroasted by two of bruce's friends as he sits from a chair on the corner of the room, watching the scene unfold infront of him.

in front of you was Clark, hips moving with need and strength as makes you gag on his big cock, his strong hands holding your face, behind you was Barry, hips moving fast and rough as he pushes his own length in and out of you, hitting that spot inside of you constantly., barry's hand was tightly gripping your hair while the other was at your waist, both men getting to use you as per bruce's request.

it ended with you sucking off bruce on your knees to show him how sorry you are, while filled and covered in the cum of his two other friends as a lesson for you.

oh my god, yes.

i imagine for the light punishments where you're tied up before him, you'd come from being fucked so good. the shockwaves and ropes to your body all the more restrictive and painful, but you still managed to come, hand-free, from bruce's cock, constantly digging into you despite your confusing pleas for him to stop, to slow down, and to fuck you harder.

hot, needy, and sloppy sex is the best when it's done in the office, where everyone can imagine what goes on behind those closed doors because you're practically his stress ball. he calls you in whenever there's been some delayed shipments or whatever, slowing production, and he needs to take it out on something, fuck something raw and hard to dispose his annoyance—blinded rage.

oh my god, and clark and barry?! how do you know my deepest fantasies?!

with clark, i imagine that he likes the way you're so obedient under him. you would open your mouth and pant hungrily as he fucked into your mouth, throating you until you gagged and coughed. and then he probably wouldn't be satisfied enough, so he would yank you by your hair, guiding your head back and forth on his cock because he likes taking control of you even for a brief moment—he was always envious of bruce.

then for barry—yes to the hair-grabbing! yes to everything, basically. but while he's fucking into you, he's annoyed that he can't see anything else. only your flushed back and the back of your head, your bouncing locks as the impact of his thrusts rocked you. so in midst of his frustration, he marks your back in tiny kisses at first. but then it grows to hard bites that made bruce almost jump from his seat.

no one was allowed to be so intimate with you like that, bruce would ironically think to himself as your hole was dripping in cum, your mouth as well when clark finished inside of you.

and later that night, he'd show you who you really belonged to, whether you liked it or not.

[delurkr]

Criminal Clarkes AU

BECUZ LISTEN I was really tickled with the crimes tierlist @kindheartedgummybears posted. This isn't necessarily related to that but it's what got me started imagining the Clarkes as a ✨family heist ring✨ because literally yes.

I'm thinking they're mainly burglars, aiming for the safes but cleaning up whatever else they find along the way. They're always planning occasional high stakes burglaries like banks and museums (shoot for the stars amirite) but more often they do smaller house burglaries and sometimes bank robberies for quick money (I want them to have range lol).

Breakdown of everyone's roles under cut, I think I'm a genius:

ANNE - Mastermind, doesn't get her hands dirty much but she's the best at keeping everyone organized. She generally takes a backseat during the actual heists and might not be there at all if it's low risk, but she'll always go along for the big ones because she's excellent at sensing danger and predicting people's next moves, and also because she can easily identify valuables and knows what's worth stealing

Likelihood of getting left behind in a panic: 2% (Stranger things have happened, but really no one would dare)

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 30% (She could be convinced, sometimes she wishes she was a lone wolf. But she'll get revenge on whoever made her do it)

JAMES - Second-in-command, sources the supplies and vehicles and such and heads the heists. Way too jumpy ofc (he's this close to making a stupid move in any charged atmosphere), but he's the most attentive to safety, trying to minimize risk beforehand and making sure all the evidence is disposed of and everything

Likelihood of getting left behind in a panic: 40% (He's not a fan favorite)

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 25% (But he's already planning how to break them out of jail)

TANYA - Information gatherer in the planning stage, the inside lookout during the heist, and the impromptu distraction if some guard or a neighbor gets suspicious. She goes undercover sometimes to scope out the joints and is basically the public relations member, charming enough to extract a lot of critical information without arousing suspicion

Likelihood of getting left behind in a panic: 5% (Not if Dennis has any say)

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 85% (She would, be real)

DENNIS - The muscle ofc. He keeps the hostages in line during a robbery, and during burglaries he's usually the first one to enter to make sure it's clear for the others. He also carries the crowbars and other supplies, but nobody trusts him with the nitroglycerin

Likelihood of getting left behind in a panic: 15% (He's strong, right? He can take of himself...probably)

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 35% (They said they would come for him! And then 10 years go by. But he'll believe you if you say they won't get in trouble, so he'll spill a name or two)

ANTHONY - The getaway driver, was there ever any question? He helps with a lot of the prepwork to plan a smooth getaway but he doesn't go in with the others during the heists, he's the outside lookout. And if something goes wrong for everyone inside (say, somebody let Dennis handle the nitroglycerin) he'll be stuck outside helpless to do anything and he'll feel guilty and experience all the horrors of being the lone survivor years down the line but he'll do it from inside a prison complex because he actually was a criminal this time

Likelihood of getting left behind in a panic: 10% (Only by mistake. If he gets left it's because everyone thought he was with someone else)

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 15% (Was it on purpose? Who knows what goes on in that brain of his)

MEGAN - MVP, they'd be nowhere without her precision. She's the one to disable the cameras and alarms and crack the safes (her favorite method is torching). Unmatched sticky fingers and maximum stealth, and gets no appreciation. She's not at the scene during bank robberies, she's on the other side of town committing arson to distract the cops

Likelihood of getting left behind in a panic: 3% (Everyone would have to answer to Anne)

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 60% (It's their fault that she doesn't feel like part of the team)

VINCE - Normie, not usually involved but he'll run errands and buy the newspapers if the gang is in hideout

Likelihood of ratting out the others for a reduced sentence: 2% (It would get Tanya in trouble)

~

If anyone has different ideas or anything to add I'd love to hear it 😁

[gremlin-bot]

Lance through a Kyrptonian Heart

I blame @precarious-hermit for this. @dpxdcshipweek

Ao3 link: here

Edward Lancer loved Amity Park, even with the daily ghost attacks, but by the Ancients does he miss his hometown. Smallville was a distant memory for him, the farms and the town’s sweetheart family. He hasn’t seen Clark in a long time. One would think childhood friends would keep in better touch but alas, being a teacher and journalist tends to take over one’s life. 

Growing up in Smallville was nice. He remembers long summer days spent at the Kent's farm helping Clark out here and there with chores. The easy ones, at least, seeing as his family was one of the few that did own or help on a farm. Daring the inhuman boy to eat metal and different unusual things, as little kids do. Trying to help Clark with blending in with humans. Letting him learn by example and sometimes telling him, no, we can't eat the can we put the beans in. 

Edward still chuckles at those memories. Growing up with an alien as a best friend was surprisingly helpful in his daily life. He just wishes that Danny Fenton would tell him, or some adult about his new found inhumanness, it would be easier on the boy. He's getting away from himself now. He's supposed to relax on his vacation to Metropolis, not think about the problems of his students.

The drive to the city was long but worth it to see and actually catch up with his childhood best friend. He's supposed to stay in the man's spare room. He's glad that Clark offered, the hotels were just too expensive for his budget. He hopes that Lois doesn't mind, last he knew, her and Clark had a kid and were happily married.

He’s very happy for them, for Clark. Thinking about Clark's relationship with Lois hurts a bit, an old, familiar ache of want and longing that comes from a long standing crush from childhood. He could never really get over his best friend, and he's fine with that. He accepted that he will always be too much of a coward to tell Clark how he feels.

Edward sighs as he finally turns into a parking spot of a lot next to the coffee shop they agreed to meet at. He takes slow deep breaths to settle himself. It was just past noon and the sun was shining nicely in the summer sky. A perfect day for a meeting of old friends.

A bell jingles as he opens the door. The bittersweet smell of coffee and pastries fills the space. The shop had a comfortable homey style that he enjoyed. He must have got here right after the lunch rush, as there was barely a line. Gettinghis coffee was a quick affair. Finding a place to sit so he could call Clark, however, took a bit longer. He ended up in a small two person booth on the back wall. Before he had even finished his phone out of his pocket, Clark opened the doors to the shop. 

Clark skips getting coffee completely and heads straight to Edward, a bright smile on his face that seems like it was only for him and oh did that do things to his heart. Taking a small moment to prepare himself, he stands to greet the man that his cowardice would never let him have.

"Clark, It feels like forever since we saw each in person!" Edward is proud to say his voice didn't betray him in this moment.

"Yeah, it has!" Clark forgoes a handshake, instead, he crushes Edward in a too-strong hug. Edward has to tap the man to remind him that he isn't made of steel. It only lasted less than a minute, but it had Edward melting."How have you been?"

"I've been good." He gestures for Clark to take a seat before he sits himself. "I have an interesting student that I'm keeping an eye on. He seems to develop a similar thing to what you had as a kid. Otherwise the same old life." The look on Clark's face was worth the questions he would get later. 

"Oh wow. We'll have to talk about that later."

"I assumed so. How about you? I haven't heard from you in ages."

"Well, work has been good. A lot of new stories are coming up about certain companies I'm not allowed to say the name of at the moment. I've been a bit lonely since the divorce but it was for the best, you know?”

Edward almost choked on his coffee. "The divorce?" The hope that bloomed in his chest was a sick thing, but was there nonetheless. 

"Yeah. Lois and I got a divorce. She realized something about herself, hell I realized something about myself, and we decided to go our separate ways.” Clark chuckles a bit before continuing on. "We've been separated for 6-ish months now, still friends and all that, and I get Jon every other week. You'll probably see him before Lois picks him up."

"Oh, okay. How are you holding up with all of… that?" Edward can't begin to unravel how he feels about this whole thing. He feels bad that his friend went through this, but on the other hand he can't help but hope that he has a chance.

"I was bad the first couple months or so, but I did some searching and revaluated myself and our relationship. It was for the best. I got to meet her girlfriend last weekend. She is really nice, even made cookies for Jon and I." Clark beams a small smile at the memorie

"I'm glad it all worked out for you in the end. You should probably get something to eat. It's your lunch break, right?" Edward raises an eyebrow at the man across from him, causing said man to chuckle as he leaves to order his food.

Edward is relieved that his best friend is doing alright with his divorce, and even more so that Clark may not be so straight himself. After all it wasn't just Lois that realized something about herself, though It's best not to get his hopes up too high. There may be a chance, but he always  was a coward.

It doesn't take long for Clark to come back to the table with a nice looking sandwich, but he doesn't sit down. He looks a little sad, actually. 

"I just got a call from work, they want me back early to look over a story. I am so sorry."

"It's okay, Clark. I'll just-" Edward didn't get to finish his sentence as Clark shoved a set of keys towards him. 

"Here is a set of keys to my apartment. I already sent you the address and stuff. I’ve got to go, see you in an hour or two. I've got some things to tell you." Clark didn't wait for Edward to fully take the keys before he was out of sight. Well, this certainly gave Edward time to himself to let the whole conversation set in, at least.

Having time to himself was a bad idea. He kept on analyzing what Clark said over and over again. He's getting away from himself. A dangerous thought of actually telling the other man his feelings is plaguing his mind. He’s a coward and always has been, but maybe, just maybe he doesn't have to be about this anymore, and isn't that a striking thought. Edward Lancer actually admitting his feelings. His sister would be proud. He'll wait till Clark gets back, see what he has to say. Edward is still a coward after all, even with this bout of bravery. He just has to wait an hour or so.

Being in Clark's apartment without him was slightly strange but not the worst. He's using the new space as a distraction and time waster. It wasn't very effective, but it worked enough. 

He could tell which bedroom he would be staying in, a cozy light blue theme room with a queen sized bed. Setting up his things had taken under half an hour. He's going to need more things to distract himself with. He wandered around a bit finding where the bathroom is and what he thinks is Clark and Jon's rooms. He ended up in the living room fifteen minutes later.

He sits down on the couch, huffing. Deciding to turn on the TV as he waits, live coverage of Superman defeating some robot plays on the screen. Waiting is the worst when you are expecting something, and the news  wasn’t exactly helping.

It wasn't long after the news coverage ended that Clark burst into his apartment. Hair windswept and tie rumpled, a bit of blue peeking out from under his white button up. The smell wafting off of him is smoky with a hint of something metallic.Strange, but not something he could bring up with the man at the moment. It would take a lot of explaining of ectoplasm and Amity Park. Honestly? It’s not worth it, unless Clark ever decided to visit. He was getting distracted again, this really isn't like him at all.

"Oh good, you've settled in!" Clark said slightly out of breath. Now that was very unusual.

"Clark, are you okay? You're out of breath. Did you get caught up in the fight with Superman…" a slow realization crawls on Edwards face. "Oh Paradise Lost, you are Superman." 

Clark had the decency to look sheepish as he answered. "I was going to tell you, tonight. After the original thing I needed to tell you, but yes I'm Superman."

"I know too many inhuman superheroes. Go change out of your suit, and then let’s talk, please." Edward runs his hand down his face as he hears the wind whip around Clark as he moves about the apartment.

Clark is back to the living room in sweatpants and a t-shirt by the time Edward's hand drops from his face. He really shouldn't be surprised, the man had a heart of gold. It was one of the reasons Edward fell for him in the first place.

"Thank you. Now what was the thing more important than your secret identity that you had to tell me?" Edward will not get his hopes up, but the feeling in his chest says he is a liar.

"Well, it's best if I start at the beginning. Mainly for my sake rather than yours. I have no doubt that you would understand but uh, yeah." Clark's hand is rubbing the back of his neck in that nervous habit he never did kick. "Like I said at the coffee shop, Lois and I got a divorce. Turns out that she figured out that she's a lesbian. I'm happy for her! Really! But it caused me to look at our relationship, and myself, in a new light. It spiraled into my own realization, one that had me look back at our relationship." Clark took a deep breath, looking at Edward with caring eyes. Edward' heart was pounding in his chest. Hope that he had denied didn’t seem so foolish anymore.

"Edward Lancer, I think I've been in love with you since the summer before you moved out of Smallville." Clark's small unsure smile melted what was left of him.

"That's good, because I think I have been too!" Edward walks from his spot on the couch to where Clark had been standing, too far away for too long. Embracing the other in a tender hug. Light laughter bubbling up from both men.

"Can I kiss you?" Clark asks, ever the gentleman.

"I've been waiting to hear that for too long. Yes, please." 

Edward starts to lean in, meeting Clark halfway. The kiss is soft and tender, everything Edward has ever wanted and more. He hopes that Clark feels the same.

[matt0044]

RWBY being “childish” is far more a feature than a flaw.

I’ve been thinking about this since My Adventures With Superman started on Adult Swim. Though it shares a TV block with far more risque and PG-13 shows, it’s actually a TV-Y7 show sent there to avoid Davey-boy’s Max Axe (patent pending).

And a lot of people love it. Yes, you have doubters like how Live Wire is portrayed (so far, people) or Slade but plenty like how Clark Kent is the big blue boy scout actual fans have known him to be.

The fact is that if it was made for Adult Swim from inception, then chances are that it wouldn’t lean into such optimistic territory with Superman doing good for goodness sake or Lois and Jimmy being such delights. There’s likely to be some dark elements but none that other cartoons of today haven’t dipped their toe into within kids TV S&P.

That reminds me of RWBY except for the fact that the show never started out with kids in mind. Monty, Miles and Kerry even got their start writing for Red Vs. Blue which started as a dudebro web comedy and continued to be even as more epic elements were implimented.

RWBY easily could’ve been this Anime parody that took the piss out of the medium it was paying tribute to but there’s an earnestness to it that largely occurs with shows aimed at younger audiences or at least below older teens.

It could’ve gone for the type of Bathos that modern media has been racked over the coals for (despite it stemming from far more earlier examples like Action or Buddy Cop flicks) but it decided not to. I feel like that’s a significant factor in the “Childish” accusation.

It dares to say that Ironwood’s not the big strong general man who’ll see them through to Salem’s defect. It dares to say that Mantle isn’t just a few city blocks but full of people with a right to live and be protected. It dares to say that sacrifice shouldn’t even be the last option so much as not on the table at all.

It dares to say that a better world is possible with people who can better themselves.

And we need more stories outside of kids shows to dare and be that sincere. Hell, Anime overall has been popular because of a multitude of titles that dare to dream of a better world.

[c1tyhaunts]

things your muse will notice about mine. ( repost, don't reblog. )

WHAT THEY LOOK LIKE. in the afterlife, he's short, stout, and slick for a skeleton man; his skull is built like it forever has an mildly frustrated demeanor to it, with a notable feature of his being the three carvings in the middle of his forehead and back of his head. It's decorative and distinguished, but logistically, doesn't make sense (until you realize that, in his past life, he died via three gunshot wounds in the head).

in general for his human appearance, however, he's a handsome, sweet looking guy. strong jaw, strong nose, brown wispy hair often combed back to be out of the way, soft brown eyes - manny looks like he walked out of a 50s film noir film like he was the lead. clark gable esque, played by pe//dro pas//cal. his suits are sharp and well-cut to his shape, often sporting darks blues & neutrals with subtle, fun patterns that play with the outfits texture. 5'9" technically, but his black shoes help give him at least an inch of height.

WHAT THEY SMELL LIKE. crisp and sophisticated; manny won't admit it, but he puts a lot of attention to his appearance and the nonverbals; how people take in his presence. the lingering smell of pomade may waif from him, intermix with the smell of cigar / cigarette smoke. there's depth to it, however - sage & sandalwood, mixes sweetness like citrus. manny knows a salesman is selling the appearance alongside the product, so playing the part wins the deal.

WHAT THEY TASTE LIKE. against his lips are the aftermath of a cigar's bitterness, espresso, with the afterburn of fine tequila or dark bourbon. again, another subtle act of pride and vanity that he doesn't want to admit - anything he consumes has to be at a great quality. he's the son of farmers, knows the value of a well-made product. so when you kiss him, you can taste that same delicateness.

WHAT THEY SOUND LIKE. an interesting mix of gravely, charismatic, but lighter than you'd assume from looking at him. he has a genuinely suave way of speaking, and even in his goofier moments, he has charm to how he speaks. his accent slips out from time to time, harkening back to his mexican/cuban roots. he's voiced by Tony Plana, ala his performance of... Manny Calavera of Grim Fandango.

WHAT THEY FEEL LIKE. gentle, despite the gruffer aspects of his rather go-lucky attitude. manny got a warmness to his touch despite having rough calloused palms. that's the ironic thing about the man: his appearance appeals to the sly salesmen who haven't worked hard for what they earned, never felt the struggle from being at the bottom and clawing their way to the top. manny has farmer boy hands that have been through tragedy, through trial. they're firm in his convictions, dedicated to his goals. and if you dare pry away what he had built himself, be aware: he's going to get it back.

tagged by: @samuhelll tagging: @lotuskissed, @halfnvmb, @artmadc (any muse that sways you!), @thieved, @hesperid (Thyrra)