#I would simply live in a cave of denial

[music-orthemisery]

Genuinely, like…pretty much all of my theories (aka delulus) around p2/fob could be proven completely wrong and I’d be like “huh…ok then!” I don’t live and die by my silly thoughts about men I don’t know. At the end of the day, it’s all just for funsies.

Unless it was that Patrick didn’t write the majority, if not all, of “Miss Missing You.” That would send me into a complete and total existential crisis.

[randomasfuk]

No spleen and forever 17

I had a dream that explained Tim’s constantly young and sweet only 17 god knows how long my dreams are a funny sort of place but with abit of creativity it could be a dam good angst fic but this is coming straight from dreamland to tumblr no changes It started with Damian. For reasons unknown, he was going through old boxes of photos, and somehow, he stumbled upon pictures from Tim’s 16th birthday. That’s when it hit him—he’s been living in the manor for literal years, and not once has he heard anything about Tim’s birthday. He paused, thinking. No one ever mentioned it, not even in passing. So, like any sane Bat would do, Damian concluded that Tim must be a ghost.

In his mind, Tim had died years ago—probably around the time or shortly after he lost his spleen. The family, unable to cope with the grief which was why he was still able to interact with the world. He could touch things. He could get hurt and everyone was in collective denial. This explained everything: Tim didn’t age, and some of the odd dynamics he had with the rest of the family. But no one acknowledged it. Damian assumed that Tim didn’t know he was dead, and the rest of the family just pretended as if nothing was wrong. That’s why Tim remained seventeen, stuck in a perpetual state of youth, untouched by time.

Things went on like this for a while. Damian remained unusually wary of Tim, though it didn’t seem odd to anyone else, considering the well-known feud between them. But then, one day, Tim got captured. This time, the situation was more dire than usual, something akin to Jason’s experience. Bruce freaked out in a way that was almost out of character, and Damian, still convinced that Tim was a ghost, decided there was no need to save him. After all, ghosts couldn’t die, right?

Bruce called in the entire Bat-family, all hands on deck, and Tim was returned to them. That’s when Damian was called out for his lack of concern. With a deadpan expression, he simply said, “Drake’s a ghost. He can’t die. This was pointless and a huge waste of my time.”

The room went silent. Even Alfred, who had come down to the cave to offer everyone tea, was at a loss for words. Tim was the first to speak up, his voice thick with disbelief: “What?”

Damian, still completely serious, repeated, “You’re a ghost, Drake.” They just stared at each other in stunned silence until Bruce, clearly confused but doing his best to hide it, asked, “What makes you think that?”

Damian replied, “Drake hasn’t aged in at least two years. He’s untouched by the passage of time, while the rest of us inevitably age. I can only assume his death was linked to the loss of his spleen.”

And that’s when it clicked. Everyone muttered some form of curse under their breath. Alfred didn’t even bother scolding them. Well, except for Jason, who seemed to be barely paying attention. He suddenly piped up, “Wait, Tim doesn’t have a spleen? Since when?”

Damian, still trying to piece everything together, answered, “At some point, grandfather removed it from h—” He was cut off by Bruce.

“That’s beside the point, Damian,” Bruce said, his voice tense. Damian blinked, confused. He thought his reasoning had been sound, but clearly, he was missing something.

Bruce paused, clearly uncomfortable, before continuing, “I forgot your birthday. Twice. Consecutively.”

That’s when realization hit Damian like a ton of bricks. He was mortified. Bruce added, “That wasn’t my intention.”

Tim, who had been silent for a while, spoke up, “Yeah, I figured. Third time’s the charm, right? Besides, you weren’t the only one who forgot. I’m just disappointed that this gremlin over here was the one who noticed first.” He gestured to Damian, who still looked baffled by the whole situation.

Everyone else, except for Jason and Steph, offered their apologies. Jason and Steph, of course, knew exactly what had been going on the whole time. In fact, they had bet on how long it would take the others to notice.

“Hold up, you thought I was a ghost?” Tim spun around, finally processing Damian’s words.

Damian, still in disbelief, replied, “Yes. It seemed like the most plausible explanation. You haven’t aged since I got here, and I didn’t think Father and the others were as incompetent as they clearly are. I overestimated them. And you look almost… blue. You’re exceedingly pale.”

At that moment, everything became a bit more hazy. Bruce, trying to make amends, bought Tim multiple absurdly expensive, lavish gift, while the rest of the family threw Tim a belated 18th and 19th birthday party. They made sure to cover every detail, as if trying to compensate for the years they had ignored. Tim, however, was a little pissed. He owed Steph $500 from the bet and now had to start paying taxes. And Damian lost a lot of respect for his father and brother.

[kasunex]

Hello! I found you in the TCOAAL tag, hope it doesn't bother you lol, I just enjoyed reading your opinions on this game.

Since I saw you questioning Andrew in the Decay route, I wanted to offer you my two cents about it, and why Andrew is so snappy at Ashley there: you can enter the Decay route in two ways, if either of the siblings fails to commit to the other and don't break away from their unhealthy coping mechanism.

If Ashley refuses to let Andrew watch over their parents, she is giving in to her own paranoia and mistrust. Her controlling tendencies towards Andrew stem from her fear that he doesn't really love her (because she is fundamentally impossible to love, that's what everyone told her), and if he has a choice he'll always pick the other choice. No matter how much Andrew commits to her, she is always scared - this is what causes the big fight in the room 302. So her solution is to simply cut out the other choice. She let Nina die, she harassed Julia into breaking up with Andrew, and now, she won't let him talk with their parents. This is the same "Leyley orders Andy around" dynamic that Andrew wants to desperately break free of, and the very reason he despises the nickname Andy - which Ashley keeps using in this route to exercise control: "I love you, Andy. I love you, I love you, I love you". If you choose this option, Ashley ruins their relationship further by caving in to her insecurity, the fear that Andrew would lie to her, abandon her for anyone, and that he really gives her nothing (read: not the all-encompassing love she craves, since she's "no pretty lady he can fuck"... also, sidenote, Ashley's obsession with sex and what it says about her selfworth is fascinating). Of course Andrew would be mad that no matter what he does, it's never enough for his sister, and she will always try every dirty trick in the book to keep him under her thumb.

If Ashley trusts Andrew with the parents, but Andrew accepts their offer to leave Ashley behind and live a normal life, Andrew sinks once again into denial. He is a normal person, really! He could live a normal life! But he is stuck with Ashley. It's all Ashley's fault for pushing him around. It's all Ashley's fault for ruining his life. Andrew is her doormat, and nothing more. Like this, Andrew builds up resentment and resentment, choosing to put all the blame on Ashley's shoulders instead of admitting to himself, like he does if he refuses, that he's just as fucked up as Ashley is. Case in point: in the Decay route he's disgusted when chopping up his parents, a normal reaction which makes Ashley smile, while in the Burial route he's completely detatched, which worries Ashley because this isn't the weak Andy she knows and loves.

So it's not that Andrew in the Decay route is OOC, I think. You, player, simply choose to exarcerbate the issues between the two siblings, whose relationship was already strained by that point, mostly by Ashley still calling Andrew "Andy" which symbolizes her not wanting to move on from the relationship they had as children. The Burial route allows them to say "fuck it, it's us against the world" in their own way: Ashley by accepting that she can slightly let go the leash she put on Andrew because he's her ally, and Andrew by stopping pretending he's just a victim of circumstances.

Sorry for the long rant lol. Have a nice day ^^

No worries at all - in fact I'm posting this publicly so it can be seen by more eyes. It's very well put and does a good job of explaining.

I had my concerns about the route splitting, but I am curious to see how the different routes ultimately play out. Especially because, to be honest, I don't know what the best path forward for these two is.

The part of me that is playing as them, empathizing, thinks they should just embrace their degeneracy and enjoy burning in Hell together - a la Burial - and the part of me that is watching and judging thinks they deserve to drag each other to the grave for all the awful sins they have committed - a la Decay.

Sans the "less incestous" Burial route. That one seems passable.

[chronicillnessfromateensmind]

I turned eighteen yesterday. And I think it goes without saying that if you’re familiar with what the past five years have been like for me, then you’ll understand I’ve gone through a lot. I could narrate and depict all the horrible experiences and I’ve had over those years, but I can’t be bothered to. But not for the reason you might think.

Late last year I was completely and utterly lost. I’ve always heard stories about people losing themselves, but I never thought I’d ever relate to them. The entire concept of losing yourself seemed foreign, I mean I was so certain in who I was, and what I believed in. I mean that has to mean I’m immune to losing myself, right?

Nope. And how I found myself there wasn’t just a random event, where I one day woke up and didn’t understand who I was anymore. No, it was a chain of events that perfectly aligned that allowed it to happen. A negligent society and a pain riddled body are the perfect recipe to create the downfall of anybody’s psyche.

Five years of negligent doctors, misdiagnosis, disappointments, gaslighting, sleepless nights, endless pains, lost experiences, and progressing symptoms all weighed incredibly heavy on me. The combination of those things led me to enter a space I have never been before, and one I wholeheartedly hope you never find yourself in. A space where shadows and nightmares lurked around every corner. Where the foundation cracked and the ceiling caved in. Where the air felt tight, and the walls narrowed in. Where the strings of others actions puppeteered me, and the voices of others seeped out of my lips.

I found myself at the mercy of this space, and losing myself at a rapid rate. Not only did the activities that bring me joy slip away, but my soul started to as well. I found myself stuck in a psychological warfare situation, torturing my mind, body, and soul with the cycle that seemed to never end.

A cycle of symptoms appearing, no answers, countless dismissals, constant unknowns, no resources, complete denial, and traumatic appointments. A cycle I continuously found myself in. A cycle I thought I had escaped at fifteen, after fighting with everything I had and more to regain the ability to walk and function again. A cycle I thought I had broken at sixteen when I finally got an answer and prescribed medication for. A cycle I found myself in again at seventeen, only this time it seemed to never have an end in sight.

It’s impossible to not question yourself, when so many tests and doctors all conclude there’s nothing wrong with you. And in this space this feeling of rejection and disregard had me questioning my own sanity. I started to blame myself for everything bad that had happened to me. I came to fester such hatred towards myself and my body that I couldn’t even look in the mirror anymore. The reflection of the shell of who I used to be is painful to witness. I mean after all, my body had become the source of all my pain and issues in my life, it almost seems logical that I’d eventually grow a hatred towards it eventually.

It didn’t help that plastered on the forefront of my mind were the pictures of other kids my age simply just living their life. Constantly comparing myself to their successes, and blaming myself for not being able to achieve the things they were able to do.

It seemed like I could never escape the what ifs, and the whys. No matter how hard I struggled against the shackles these questions contained me in, they would always win in the end. Dragging me down further and cementing my spot in this new and treacherous space.

I was in a purgatory-like state. Waiting for the right diagnosis, waiting for the right person to help me, waiting for options, and waiting for resources. I had been fighting so hard for five years to get the help I so desperately needed, and it wasn’t being reciprocated on the medical systems side. So, I gave up all and any hope I ever had. I had gone through so much heartbreak at the hands of medical professionals my mind shut off completely to spare me the pain of it all.

The days during this period I can’t really recall. I was operating on autopilot, I was just trying my best to stay alive. I stopped writing, I stopped drawing, I stopped learning, I stopped doing the things I loved the most in the world. I had allowed the pain and symptoms to completely take over who I was and who I am as a person.

Fast forward to a day in early November, and for the first time in a year a sliver of light managed to break through that dark and dehumanizing place. A diagnosis. A resource. Options and directions. A doctor who understood and validated me and everything I had been through. I walked in those office doors hating the idea about even being there, and I left with a feeling I hadn’t felt in months, hope.

I broke down on the curb outside and cried. Five years worth of tears came sprawling out, five months of pain, sorrow, and grief that all could’ve been prevented had someone had known what was wrong with me. I cried as the weight of am I crazy was lifted off of me, and for the first time in a long time I felt like I could breathe.

Something I wish people in our society understood is when you’re navigating a medical system that is set up to fail people who have multi-systemic disorders or illnesses, is that the diagnostic process and the uncertainties are a million times worse than the physical symptoms I have to deal with daily.

After that day in November I realized I wanted to pull myself free from those dark and decrepit walls that space confined me to. I wanted to heal myself, my mind, body, and soul. And that meant I would have to put so much work into escaping and not letting that space become my permanent residence. I couldn’t and wouldn’t let myself be defined by my diagnosis and symptoms anymore.

I turned eighteen yesterday. And I can confidently and proudly say I am not in that space anymore. Through therapy and doing my best to heal myself, I am in a much better place.

I realized that the way I would talk to myself and belittle myself, I would never do to someone else. So why was it okay to talk to myself like that? I realized that I was stuck in a mindset of self-pity and feeling less than just because of my disability. But I would never think that of others who also have disabilities, so why was that okay to think of myself like that? I realized that this is the only body I will ever get, and to fester so much hatred towards it seems unfair. Everyday in this life is so precious and not guaranteed, and living a life of hate, whether it's towards yourself or others, isn’t a fulfilling way to live. There’s already so many heinous and horrific hate filled acts in this world, why should you add onto it, when you can choose to spread love and warmth? Why add to the problem when you can easily help provide a solution.

I used to be laser focused on the future, always planning perfectly to a t how I wanted my life to play out. And when the fantasy I had created for a future me became my reality and it didn’t match, I didn’t know how to handle it. I was always in a state of fearing hypotheticals and situations that would pop into my mind. And when that didn’t work out well, my mind found itself reminiscing on past traumatic events. I was stuck in a place between the future and past, and not focusing on living in the present.

I realized that it’s not worth worrying about the future, because the what ifs and the hypotheticals you create in your head might not even become your reality. And if they do, then you’ll figure it out in that moment. I realized that you can’t change the past no matter how much you want to. And I realized that there is nothing you can control other than what you do now, in this moment. And that’s all that matters.

I realized that to fully love and know myself I had to learn to love and accept the diagnosis and illness that caused these chain of events in the first place. It’s not going anywhere, it’s my scary ominous companion that's glued to my side. I might as well put a pink bow on it and try to learn to love it. And for a long time the thought of loving and accepting the thing that caused you so much pain seemed impossible. But I can confidently say that I do love it, in my own weird way.

I also realized that there’s no point festering hate and blame towards my body, because I was simply born with faulty wiring. It’s not my body’s fault, and it’s not my fault. My body is simply trying its best to hold me together, and for how hard my body works to do that I am so proud of it for. I can’t change the cards I’ve been dealt, I can only change how I play the game.

I turned eighteen yesterday. And I am in the healthiest space mentally and soulfully I’ve ever been in. Maybe not physically, but we're doing the best we can haha.. I am a whole person outside of my illness, but I’ve also learned that denying that my illness is a part of me only ends up with negative results. It is a part of me, but it’s not me.

I am an old soul. I love to get lost in a good book. I love to articulate an idea I had in my head into words. I love to create art out of a blank paper with my own hands. I love to learn about our world and the history behind it. I love to get sucked into a catchy chorus and dance around in my room. I love all things pretty feminine and delicate. I love that I find the beauty in all broken things. I love dressing up and doing my makeup. I love to advocate and provide a safe space for people. I love, love. I love to have such a deep sense of empathy and compassion towards everyone. I love that I am a positive light in this dark world. I love that I have the ability to step back and see a situation from all different perspectives. And I love that I love myself.

Getting myself out of the deep end, to where I am now was not easy. But I am so proud of who and where I am today. Everything happens for a reason, and even though these health issues are annoying and cause me so much pain, maybe I have them for a bigger reason. In the grand scheme of things maybe I’m supposed to have these diagnoses for some reason.

I think and firmly believe that one of the greatest blessings in this life is the ability to help another human. In any shape or form. And I’ve always felt like I was put on this earth to help other people. I mean when I was twelve I organized an entire presentation for my entire grade on mental health disorders and how to recognize some of the signs. And maybe by me having hypermobility ehlers danlos syndrome, post orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, mast cell, amplified musculoskeletal pain syndrome, chronic regional pain syndrome, function neurological disorder, dysautonomia, generalized anxiety disorder, depression, and ocd, maybe I can use these things I used to consider burdens, to create something positive and helpful.

If I’m able to help just one person in this world, in any shape or form then I would be content and proud of the life I led. And while people might think it’s noble that I want to do this, I just want to make it clear that I’m not doing this in spite of my disability. No, I’m not noble for thinking like this, i”m just simply being me. And no, I’m not doing anything in spite of my diagnosis, I’m doing anything with my diagnosis. I’m working hand and hand with them, and in return I’m more accepting towards them, and they’re more gentle towards me.

I turned eighteen yesterday, and I am so happy. My main goals right now are to just work on healing myself even more, learning and listening to my body, and loving all the wonky weird bits that make me, me. I’m finally living in the present, I don’t worry about the future and wish I could change things about the past. Instead, I worry about what I could do now, in this minute to make me feel better. Whether that's picking up a pencil to draw, typing on a keyboard, watching funny TikTok videos, listening to my favorite albums, reading my comfort books, talking to my family, or even just simply taking a nap.

I’m focused on the current me, and what she needs. And I really love her, I truly do. And I am incredibly proud of myself for pulling me out of the torturous space, and bringing me to where I am now. Happy, content, loving, creative, artistic, wise, funny, compassionate, weird, wonky, rare, beautiful, me.

[pan-fried-autism]

Lovesick

Characters: Swap!Grem, Swap!Nikolai (@bowlerhatwearer), brief appearance of Swap!M0u5e

Summary: No longer undead, Nikolai has been mostly confined to Grems bed, due to the condition his body had been left in. The time spent in Grems house has made him realize something, something he needs to do... but hardly anything ever goes to plan.

Nikolai L. Akdow had a problem.

Or at least a problem he was no longer in denial about.

After an adventure resulting in him no longer being undead, simply alive, his body was in a... less than favorable state. Thought no longer rotting and generally corpselike, he found himself to be quite physically weakened and tired, and quite susceptible He even found he couldnt eat most foods. As a result, he spent most of his days in bed.

Not his own, however. His friend Grementine Mewton's bed.

He had offered to take her couch, but she refused to let him stay there, saying to him, "My guy, with the condition you're in, it's for the best that you're as comfortable as possible! I'LL take the couch."

But that's not the point. Or at least, a bit related to the point.

You see, the problem involved Grementine.

Grem herself was not the problem, though-- if anything, she was the opposite of one. She, along with her assistant M0u5e and friend Mothgo (if she was over), took very good care of him. She always made sure to keep a good supply of rusk, vitamin water, and tea (as they were some of the only things he could stomach right now), and had taken the liberty of buying actual vitamins, too. She had a fan placed on one of the bedside tables in case he got overheated, and had a cold wet rag for him as well. Sometimes, she'd come in with books, or maybe her portable DVD player, and she'd watch a movie or show with him. Sometimes she would just come in to talk.

It was... it was nice. He was slowly getting better.

But that wasn't the point. He still had a problem.

It was a problem he had since he was still a lich, and started to have a while after he met Grem. Something he couldn't ignore for very long...

Feelings.

He noticed them a little bit after they sprouted up-- he felt different about Grem than he did about other people. He oft wished to spend more time with her, to be close to her, hug her more, talk endlessly with her about ideas, stare into her beautiful eyes as he did it....

A crush of some kind had developed. And it frightened him.

This was the first time he ever felt this was about anybody. It was... it was confusing. Something he didn't know how to handle.

So he kept his feelings hidden away the best he could.

I don't think it would work out between us, anyway, he reasoned with himself. I probably would not be a good partner to her-- the past is a fickle obstacle, I've found.

If things had stayed the same, he could have dealt with them, he thought. They'd continue to be good friends and maybe nothing more. However, staying with Grem while she helped him in his weakened state hadn't exactly done any wonders for the crush...

Without the factors of an ice cave and a cold environment (relatively speaking-- Grem kept the bedroom air conditioned for him), along with the fact he was currently living with her, Grem was able to see him MUCH more often and for longer periods of time. In that time, he got to see a lot of Grem's personality in action-- how she talked about her ideas and experiments, how she hyped up the movies and shows she chose for them to watch (especially if she thought he would love it), how she almost always came back from the supermarket with a new flavour of vitamin water for him to try, how she laughed at certain jokes, the way he swore her eyes sparkled while he talked about ideas and experiences he's had, how she talked about her coworkers and friends, how sometimes she would purr a little when she hugged him...

All this had done was strengthen his feelings-- in other words, worsen the problem in a way.

As time went on, this weighed heavier and heavier on his mind. The feelings were still strange and nebulous to him... why? he would wonder. Why were these feelings he's had for so long still so indecipherable to him?

Not only that, it... didn't feel right. To keep it all to himself, of course. He found himself wanting more and more to at least tell Grem how he felt about her. Even if she didn't share the feelings (a likely event, to him), they wouldn't weigh so much on him anymore.

But... maybe it wouldn't be so bad if she DID share them. Nikolai had recently found himself wishing that she would stay and talk with him for a little longer. For her hugs to last longer. To be able to perhaps... make a nice dinner for the two of them.

If only...

Nik was so enraptured in his own thoughts, he had completely zoned out during the last five minutes of the movie he and Grem were watching.

Until Grem spoke.

"MAN... that was a great movie, huh, Nik?"

That jolted NIkolai out of his thoughts.

He looked over at the screen of the DVD Player-- the credits were rolling, and a pop song he'd never heard before was playing. The song spoke of getting older but never wiser, and one's depression working the graveyard shift.

Ignoring it, he simply smiled at Grem and pulled together what he remembered of the film before he zoned to form a response.

"Yes, it was very nice."

"What was your favourite part?" she replied, tail swishing around lightly. "My favourite was the twist. Like, Janelle's mother is the SECRET BIG BOSS at her company? It's so stupid, but it works."

"I think my favourite would have to be the factory scene."

Grem made a little 'feh' noise. "Of course it was. Ya LOVE that stuff."

"What can I say?" he said with a smirk. "I've always loved inventing."

"I know. Ya talk a lot about your ideas. They're all really cool."

Nikolai couldn't help but turn his head a little aways. Grem couldn't see the light blush on his cheeks that way.

"Thank you, Grementine."

Grem smiled, before yawning, raising her arms and stretching as she did so.

"What... what time is it, Nik?"

Before he could respond, Grem turned to look at the electrical clock/alarm on the bed side table to her left.

10:25 pm.

"Oh boy." she blurted out. "Ya know, I think I might just go to bed. I have work tomorrow anyway."

"That's understandable." he replied. "It was nice watching a movie with you, Grem!"

Grem grinned and gave me a hug.

Nikolai froze for a second, before gently wrapping his arms around her. He was very glad Grem couldn't see his face-- he imagined he looked like a tomato at that moment.

Sadly, Grem pulled away and leaped off the bed, going to the door before turning around and saying "Goodnight, Nikolai!"

The moment Grem closes the door, Nikolai lets out a small sigh.

He wanted to tell her so badly.

Why shouldn't he?

The sudden thought made him sit up.

.... really, though. Why shouldn't he? Why should he have to keep these feelings to himself? They weigh so heavily on him they hurt, anyway. All he had to lose was a metaphorical weight on his shoulders!

Or maybe a friendship, depending on how she reacted.

But no matter. Nikolai had a confident look on his face as he lay back down. He would throw caution to the wind, look Grem in her lovely eyes, and tell her how he felt about her!

He knew he could do it. The small, scary doubts he felt couldn't stop him this time.

........................

The next morning, Nikolai awoke with a cold.

His nose was stuffed and runny, his throat felt sore, his head was pounding slightly with pain, and he felt like he was being weighed down with bricks.

His first thought that morning was 'oh, confounded.'

Of course, the MOMENT he felt ready to tell Grem that he might love her, his own immune system just haaaaaad to ruin it for him! He felt awful enough lying around too weak to go outside or eat certain foods, WHY of ALL TIMES did he have to get sick now?

He stopped yelling in his mind for a bit. It just made his head hurt more.

When Grem came into the bedroom and noticed his sickly state, she immediately started fretting over him. She got him a cup of tea, some Advil, some crackers, she even worried that she gave it to him somehow.

"Ne-never mind that, Grem." he had reassured her, before sneezing loudly. "Uhff, I'm sure that you... that you didn't."

Grem had her robotic assistant M0u5e care for him while she was at work. The little robot was a good caretaker, he had to admit... but he found himself longing for the cat regardless.

He felt bad about it. Was he really so focused on one person that he couldn't focus on the actions of others? He really needed to tell Grem how he felt, if that was the case.

Around 4 PM, as Nikolai lay coughing a bit in bed, he happened to hear the bedroom door open.

It was Grem. And she had a bowl of soup.

Nikolai, sick as he was, sat up slowly and cracked a smile as she approached him happily.

"He- (COUGH) Hello, Grementine!" He greeted her.

Grem set the soup down on the nightstand closest to Nikolai as she sat on the edge of the bed next to him.

"Hey, Nik!" she chirped. "How's the bug been treating ya?"

"You mean the cold?"

"Yup."

"It could.. (ACHOO)... it could definitely be MUCH better, seeing as my throat feels like somebody tried to sand it down. But M0u5e has taken good care of me while you were gone."

"That's great to hear."

Grem looked off to the side.

"I missed ya while I was at work. I was sad thinking about how sick ya were." she confessed.

The sickly man swore his heart skipped a beat.

'You-- You were?"

"Yeah. I want ya to be healthy, Nik-- you were already have a pretty bad time anyway. I was... worried about how much this would be affecting ya."

"Oh, Grem..." he reached out and gently put his hand on her shoulder. "I think I'll live, my friend."

Grem softly smiled at him. "I know ya will. I just worry."

Neither said anything for a second.

Grem then got up, saying, "Well, I'll be on my way now. Enjoy your dinner, Nik!"

Nikolai quietly watched as his friend walked away.

His amazing, intelligent, caring, humorous, cute friend...

God, he couldn't stand it anymore. He had to get out it before the illness worsened.

Before he knew it, he was calling out "Grementine, wait!"

The cat stopped just at the door, and turned to him.

"What?"

Nikolai said nothing, then coughed a little. Then he looked down, trying not to make eye contact.

"... Can you- can you stay? I want- (cough) I want to talk to you about something." he asked, quiet and sheepish.

Grem stared... then gave a sympathetic smile, walking over and hopping up onto the bed to sit next to him. She said, "Yeah, what's up?"

Nikolai went to speak... but stopped.

He couldn't help but look at her-- her matte gray eyes, her little heart shaped nose, the way her right ear twitched lightly as she waited for him to start talking, a canine sticking out slightly from her mouth, the way her tail curled up, the way the fur on the sides of her face stood up, her little whiskers...

He couldn't help but look at her for so long, he only snapped out of it when someone said his name.

Now, he was made painfully aware of the quizzical look Grem was giving him, and the way his mouth was slightly agape. Nikolai buried his face in his hands, blushing shamefully.

"Sorry, sorry..." Nik muttered.

"No, I get you're nervous." she spoke softly. "Go on."

The human folded his hands in front of him, took a deep breath... and began.

"We've (sniff)... we've known each other for a while now, Grementine, and you've taken care of me. You've... made me happy to call you a friend, Grem. You're a wonderful person, through and through... you saw how I was, how I was merely but a lich... and yet you believed in me. You believed I could be... you believed I AM a good person. And for that, I will always be thankful."

He gave the cat a soft smile, before going quiet.

No going back now, he reminded himself, picking up again.

"... Grementine Mewton, you are the most wonderful person I knoww, and I... I love you through and through... with all my heart. My heart which beats thanks to you."

The cat in front of him looked... surprised to say the least, especially with the touch of blush on her face. She gently placed her hand over her heart.

"You... you mean it?"

He nodded and replied. "Yes, Grementine, I mean it. I really, really do. You are wonderful (cough)... you are perfect... you are you, my dear."

Grems face turned a deep shade of pink, blending into the light pink fur blotches on her head.

"I... WOW! I-- uh-- I didn't-- didn't expect this, hahahah..." she managed to stutter out.

Nikolai swore he saw a couple tears appear in the corners of her eyes.

He assumed they matched with the ones forming in his own.

"You really are, Grementine." he beamed, smiling. "You are wonderful in your own Grem way... and I am glad and happy that we know each other."

Grem started quivering after that.

For a split second, Nikolai was struck with a small bolt of fear. Had he... had he messed up?

... and then Grem leapt into his arms and gave him a giant hug.

Nikolai was briefly caught by surprise before he returned it. He held her close, trying not to cough as he took in just how real it was. How this was... actually happening.

Grem pulled away, still holding him, and Nikolai could see small tear trails going down her cheeks.

"S-sorry," she blathered to him, "I just-- I didn't expect that. Didn't expect how-- how nice it was."

He offered a kind smile as he spoke again.

"Grementine, may I (sniffle)... gently touch you on your cheek? I would like to tell you a bit more, if that's alright with you."

The cat perked up at that. "Oh--Oh yes, of course."

Niks hand went up, and was gently placed against her left cheek, illiciting a small purr. He continued with his confession.

"You have gone through so so much, your whole life you never had a break. Let me tell you-- (ACHOO)-- let me tell you as someone who has messed up a lot... You are great, Grementine. You are wonderful, and smart, and you deserve to be happy."

Grem closed her eyes, before lifting one of her own hands and placing it atop the hand against her face, sending little sparks of joy into Nikolai's heart.

"Ya know something, Nikolai?" she began to admit. "I've grown to... like ya like that, as well."

Nikolai felt the blushing on his face deepen. She did? That was nice to hear.

The kitty continued. "I woulda confessed sooner, but... y'know, you're kinda sick at the moment, so I didn't think it would be a good time."

"I wanted to (sniffle)(cough)-- sorry, I wanted to confess to you sooner as well, but then my cold flared up. However, I wanted to tell you, just in case my cold gets even worse, my dear." he replied, smiling again.

"Hehe, yeah. Heck, even when ya WEREN'T down with the cold, and ya just needed bedrest really. I thought it would be best to do when you were feeling well."

"It's alright, my dear. I do hope it was alright for me to confess my feelings to you like this. It... it is not really romantic."

Grem gently patted his shoulder. "No, it's completely fine! It came from you, after all."

Nikolai slipped his arm back around her and pulled her a bit closer, making her giggle.

"I love you, Grem, I really do. I want to spend my life with you, together as your partner... if that's alright with you."

Grem smiled at him... though the smile faltered, and pulled away just a little as she asked, "... What kind of partner?"

Worry began to seep into Nikolai's mind. Had he... had he said something wrong?

"Well... just the way you are." he tried to reassure her. "I like you for who you are, Grem, and I would like to live with you, if that's alright. I really enjoy your company Grem, and I... I love you."

Grem put up her hands, shaking them a little. "I mean, of course you can live with me! There's nothing wrong with that! I just... what kind of relationship would we have?"

Nikolai looked off to the side, scratching the back of his head.

"Well, I... (ACHOO)... I honestly want to have the kind of relationship... that you want to have, Grem. I want you to be comfortable and happy."

The cat looked down and hugged herself. Nikolai internally prepared for the worst.

Finally, Grem took a deep breath before speaking.

"Uh.. I'm... some form of aromantic, Nikolai. I don't know how to describe it too well. I guess I'd say that... well, I'm not completely aromantic, I don't mind a bit of romance... but I don't think I'd be comfortable with a romantic relationship."

The human was quiet for a moment. Truthfully, he didn't mind that at all. But what kind of relationship should they have?

He started talking again. "I understand that. So, would being in a non-romantic... a platonic relationship make you happy?"

Grem looked back up at him, and a wave of relief came over him as she gave him a big smile and said one word.

"Definitely."

Nikolai sighed in relief and lay back down in bed, a good bit of energy taken from the whole ordeal. He coughed a little before he responded to her.

"And that is completely alright with me, Grem."

Grem crawled over next to him and sat down, before taking one of his hands and… holding it.

Nikolais face felt warm. It could have been from blushing or from being sick. He didn’t care, as he grinned at Grem and gently squeezed the hand interlocked with his own.

He wasn’t sure if it was real or not… but he was feeling a lot better now.

…………

The next afternoon, Nikolai and Grem lay in bed together as the latter cough loudly and sniffled.

“I want to take… eat an entire bottle of Tylenols Cold and Flu.” Grem mumbled.

Nikolai had given Grem a cold.

He (who was still sick— thank his immune system) offered the cat a tissue from the tissue box she had brought in when she stumbled into the bedroom that morning, and gave her a sad look.

“I’m so sorry, Grementine my dear.” he whispered to her.

The cat waved her hand a bit at him as she blew her nose into the tissue.

“No, no, it’s fine… (sniffle) We’re gonna be fine, sweetie.”

Sweetie… he blushed at the pet name. He felt a little less bad now.

The door opened, and M0u5e came in with two steaming mugs of chicken noodle soup.

“I’ve brought lunch.” It announced as it handed the mugs to the two sickly new lovers. “How are you both holding up?”

All Grem could say was “I just hope I don’t have to take cough syrup.”

Nikolai chuckled at her response— she told him the same thing earlier.

“I’m holding up decently,” he responded to M0u5e. “I think I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

The robot clapped her hands together. “Good to hear. Do either of you require anything else?”

“Could ya perhaps bring in my DVD player and my copy of Legally Blonde?” The kitty asked.

M0u5e simply nodded and left the room.

The moment the door closed, Grems hand dove towards one of Nikolais and held it gently. She smiled up at him as she traced circles on the back of his hand.

Nikolai sighed happily as he stared into her eyes.

They’d get through this cold… together.

[campbluelake]

reality caves in the lungs | kyousuke | trial 5.4 | re: jb

Kyousuke knows Eri better than he knows himself.

It goes both ways - they have had the sort of friendship where entire conversations are had in seconds, with nothing more than a glance, a raise of the brows, a hidden smile that no one else understands. Both of them could tell you with a 100% success rate how the other would act in any situation. He misses when it was someone at college telling a story about her that he could recite like he’s heard it before – when really, he just knows Eri.

If you laid out this situation to him, he could tell you beat for beat what would happen. Of course she would panic in the dark. Of course she would lash out at anyone approaching her in her fear. She’s scared. Eri, unlike Kyousuke, has always been so full of life and felt every single one of her emotions without shame, and that included letting herself think things like I want to live.

She’s reckless, stubborn, headstrong, and so, so, so kind. And he loves her so much.

When she starts to speak, he knows. This is Eri Enomoto. In all of her flaws that coalesce into a friend that is the first and only person Kyousuke has loved for years. It’s because of her that the door wasn’t so rusted over that it could no longer open; the reason he can love Niko and Abbie, that he can look at others and think of them as friends and mean it, is because of her.

Kyousuke watches her as he stands. His face tenses as her tears escalate. As she lashes out.

He glances at Abbie with a smile and words so soft that only she can hear, before he turns to his best friend.

“Eri. He didn’t bleed out. You know that now, right?”

The smile on his lips is comforting; it’s familiar, one he’s worn time and time again to calm her down. He gives the same one to Jacky-Bobby. It’s touched with too many emotions. Gratitude, mostly.

The guilt is a close second.

“... I get what you’re doin’. Sorry, Dad. I appreciate it. If I didn’t make a promise, it might be temptin’ to take you up on it. But – you’re a parent. You gotta be used to your kids not listenin’ to you.”

Kyousuke unzips his leather jacket that had stayed stubbornly zipped up despite the sweltering heat for all of the investigation and trial. He presses it into Eri’s hands, still smiling.

The bottom half of the black turtleneck he wears beneath has been torn away, and he’s completely uninjured.

“... I think JB is the only one who’s put it together. He got it in one. I was countin’ on him to say my name so I could at least ease y’all into it, but – it’s fine. Maybe you’re in denial. I was only ever tryin’ t’hide it from one person, so you’re lucky I always planned on confessin’. A worse person’d be havin’ a blast right now. It’s hard t’get worse than me, but, still! At the rate you were goin’...”

He lets out a breath that he’s been holding since he watched Max die, and looks at everyone with a loose smile. The deep misery that he’s been stamping down over and over is finally allowed to swell up, making the smile a platitude that he simply feels too uncomfortable without. He should be comforting these people, but he–

He swallows something that forms in his throat and says it clearly:

“It wasn’t Eri. Like Dad said - she's safe. I killed Max. All of it is 100% my fault.”

[nimata-beroya]

MY THOUGHTS ON TBB 2×15 "The Summit" and 2×16 "Plan 99"

To say that I'm devastated is an understatement. As I write this during my second viewing of the episodes, I keep tearing up even before you know what happens. This is NOT how I imagine this finale would go. I guess I can say that objectively, removing all emotional perspective, it was a great finale, one where the setting up along the season pays off.

But emotionally, it's awful. Absolutely and undeniably impossible to believe. It'll take me a long time to process this. And I'm not sure if I'm capable of sharing with you all my thoughts because of that. I'll try, but probably I'll skim over some things that seem irrelevant at the moment or simply too painful to talk about.

In hindsight, the batch should've collected every favor they're owed from people they've helped the last 2 season to pull this off with everyone alive! just sayin'!!

Nope. I'm not talking about Phee and Tech saying goodbye. Watching it for a second time threw me into another sobbing fit 😭😭😭

The summit, ugh! I hate everyone in there. And especially Hemlock with his awful ideas to experiment on clones, and also Tarkin, how does he dare to disrespect clones that way? Clones that he fought alongside, and even they gave up their lives to save him?!!

I can't deal with all the foreshadowing here. It's too painful 😭😭😭 I can't stop crying.

Half kudos to that imperial complimenting the clones. A little naive of his part to think the Empire cares about that. He should've known better, but at least he has a little bit more of a conscience than the rest. I don't know who he is because there's no credit for the voice actor.

For a moment, I thought the other group infiltrating was with Cody in command. I thought he might've not gotten to Rex yet and this was the way to connect them, of course, after he helped to save Crosshair. But I was wrong! I never liked Saw Gerrera, and now he jumped to be part of the characters I hate! If he had helped, no one would've died!! Part of the fault belongs to him!!

The escape on the railcar went fine! Yep! Everyone is fine!! Everyone lives!! Plan 99 who? I don't know her.

But leaving extreme denial aside, I must admit that the part where Tech and Hunter are escaping after being made by the stormtroopers and Saw left them to their luck is very well done. There's a particular moment that it's both of them almost going in and out of the focus of the camera as they go kicking stormtroopers' asses, that's absolutely awesome. And after I took a nap (being sleepy and emotional is a bad combination), the pain of Tech's sacrifice is a tad less raw, and I guess I can see why it was necessary. I hate it but yes, absolutely, it was in Tech to sacrifice himself for his siblings, like any of them would. That's why Plan 99 exists.

And some part of me knew that Plan 99 was about sacrifices, honoring how 99 died. I just thought that they'd subverted it and everything would be fine. But no.

As if it wasn't devastating enough to see Tech falling, they had to do a parallel, carrying injured Omega to the Marauder as they did injured Hunter in season 1. So rude of them!!

I can't blame Hunter for wanting to hide in a cave (or a remote island) and never leave again. This is why he's been so cautious since the beginning. They already lost one of their own, he didn't want to lose another. And yet, he was helpless to stop it from happening.

And we all knew Cid would betray them. No surprise there. At least, she doesn't look too happy about it. I hope the regret gnaw at her for the rest of her life. That she can't sleep thinking about it.

And of course, Hemlock had to appear and Omega wasn't going to obey Hunter. He should've known she wouldn't go.

And I really, really, reeaaaallllyy want to cling to the idea that Tech is not dead, that Hemlock found him injured and took him in, hence why he has Tech's glasses. I mean, this is Star Wars, and we know that death can be temporary. And you know what? It'd be great (not really, but you know what I mean) if Tech is alive and Hemlock uses him in one of his experiments. We could get Imperial Tech, which is a terrifying thing to think about. Because that intelligence used for evil, damn!!

Omega trying to save Hunter and Wrecker, my poor angel. You should've listened to your dad!

I loved how Echo was a menace with the stolen walker. Also, Hunter and Wrecker taking out the commandos even as injured as they are, nice, but I knew they weren't going to stop Hemlock from taking Omega.

And like I saw a post earlier, Hunter just entered in his Joel Miller phase for Season 3. Anyone who gets in his way to find Omega is dead already. I agree 100%!

And clown of me to think that we'd get a fair share of Crosshair screen time during these 2 episodes, and all we got is 30 sec of unconscious Cross!! Ugh!! and still a prisoner!!

The theory that Emerie is a female clone too turned out to be true, altho I don't care much about it. I guess they want to show how Omega would be if she had stayed with the Kaminoans/Empire. I guess I have to wait and see what this is going.

I have more thoughts, but I'm too distressed to keep going. The season overall was way above my expectations, but the jury is still out about the finale. I have too many conflicting emotions about it. *SIGHS* Now, it starts the long waiting for season 3.

But in the meantime, and bringing a happier note, let me remind you that there's ONLY 2 DAYS before the phase 1 of prompt voting for the bad batch appreciation week 2023 is over!!

Check the link below, and remember that you can vote as many times you want!

[jordyn-degas]

Blast from the past [pt. 3]

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Final Part]

characters: Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader

warnings: afab!reader - fem!reader; characters are 21+; smut; unprotected sex; slight edging; vaginal sex; fingering (female receiving)

notes: story dramatically adapted from personal experience - pouring some soul out here through one of my sexy JJK men - my FIRST SMUT posted publicly -

if any of the above used art/images belongs to you or know the person that owns them - feel free to tell me so I can credit properly ❤️ - i couldn’t find any user/name where i found these

Update: the amazing Megumi art belongs to @ramluvart ❤️ thank you for letting me know it’s yours!

word count: 3.457

☠️ NSFW; MINORS DNI! ☠️

Mood 🎧 DHARIA - Sugar & Brownies

"A love like a fire, no fears, no denial Just something to gladden me I feel electricity Your lighting is guiding me"

3 months later

“Hello, love.” Megumi said on the other side of the phone as, in the past few months, he has picked up on the nickname you got used to calling him. “Do you need anything from the shops?”

About 2 months ago, Megumi fully moved in with you.

“Hi.” you smiled widely. “No, thank you. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I’ll be home soon.” he replied before hanging up.

There was no longer a home if he was not in it.

After the conversation Yuji and you had, things have simply and undeniably became normal, easier, much more peaceful than you could have ever anticipated. Both working in perfect sync at Jujutsu High, having dinner and spending time together along with Kasumi and Megumi which brought all of you closer together. Nobara and Maki would also join when not too busy being with each other.

The two of you were never alone more than a couple of minutes and it helped you tremendously in overcoming the powerful tsunami of feelings that tried to overflow at every given chance. Besides this small detail, it seemed as everything was back to normal as it used to be 5 years ago. Sure, there were gazes and small smiles that hid so much behind them, both capable enough to keep each other at arm's length.

Megumi could see everything. He accepted to move in with you because he knew you needed it but also because he was as in love with you as always. Even more now that you two lived together. He accepted the role of medicine, the one able to take it all away, to wash away the pain with a smile and a touch, when allowed. The man wiped the tears you shed in your sleep, sobs being heard through the thin walls. And as hours followed by days went by, so did your sadness, your aching pain, heart stopping its screams for Yuji abruptly.

"Will you .." your throat dry, stomach churning from the emotion of what you were about to ask. " .. sleep with me tonight?"

Megumi turned around quickly almost dropping the plate he was so thoroughly wiping of water. His dark gaze met yours, innocence and need flashing in the pair of eyes he loved so much. Lips parted slightly, eyebrows furrowed at his silence as Megumi realized you had no idea how you worded your question.

"Is that what you want?" Megumi asked with a raised eyebrow wanting to make sure that there was not another meaning to it.

"Huh?" you frowned for a couple of seconds before eyebrows shot up in surprise, bright blush slapping the cheeks. "Oh .. I meant .. I .. sleep as in .. " *cough* *cough*

Megumi let out a laugh that had your heart skip not just a simple, mere beat. It had your heart racing, absolutely adoring how the most quiet and mysterious man was capable of such colorful emotion.

"Come on." he said placing the plate into one of the cupboards before his fingers intertwined with yours.

The simple act of Megumi pulling you towards the bedroom had an unexpected effect on you. Knees threatened to cave, arms trembling lightly, goosebumps filling your skin from head to toe as a sudden itch nested into your core. It has been brought to your attention about a month ago that you found him incredibly attractive, watching the way he walked around the apartment with only a towel wrapped around the waist after shower, droplets of water glistening down the well toned torso that gives you the most improper thoughts.

"Are you alright?" Megumi asked cupping your cheek softly, you shivering at the touch much to his surprise.

"Yes." you nodded. "Sorry, I zoned out."

Placing a quick peck on your forehead, Megumi pulled off his shirt to which you swallowed harder than intended. His perfectly outlined chest came into view, muscles rippling deliciously with every single movement. You were so out of the present it was unbelievable.

Megumi held back a chuckle as he watched you drink him in with fervor, not even realizing that he opened two of the buttons from your nightshirt. Wanting to only take care of you while his scent coated your body, Megumi placed his shirt into your hands.

"Oh." you breathed coming back to reality seeing the shirt and another bright blush hit you. "I love sleeping in your shirts."

"I know." Megumi replied turning to face the bed as you quickly changed into his shirt.

Placing your palm on his broad back, Megumi turned and took your hand into his before pulling both of your bodies under the covers. It was always so easy with him. At the same time, he was capable of bringing out of you a shyness never felt before, not even Yuji was able to push the buttons with such perfection.

Megumi held out on letting a deep breath escape, you having no idea what this closeness did to him. Knowing he subdued a part of yourself the moment he took the shirt off, an arm reached out and pulled you closer, head resting on the chest, arm draping his waist as Megumi wrapped his own arms around you. Instinctively, your leg went over his as if both did this all the time.

"Megumi?" you swallowed hard, pushing yourself up on his chest as your lips almost brushed.

"Yes, love?" he asked unsure of how to read this closeness.

"Kiss me, love." you whispered, nose brushing against his.

It took a couple of seconds for Megumi to register your words, not quite understanding where was this coming from. Sure, he noticed your lingering gaze in these past few months but has never thought you actually hid something behind it.

Soft palm touching your cheek, cupping it with care as Megumi pulled you into the kiss that has plagued your thoughts and dreams for a while now. Lips beautifully moving into sync, starting slow and full of uncertainty before it grew passionate, mouths granting access to hungry tongues, both exploring each other with fervor. His arm dropped from your face, wrapping tightly around the waist and, without breaking the kiss, Megumi brought you on top, straddling him as your already wet core sat right on top of the protruding erection threatening to rip off his boxers.

Megumi's other hand slid under the shirt, palm cupping one of your breasts, fingers pinching the erect nipple, a loud moan slipping into his mouth. You could feel his smirk against your lips, setting you on fire even more. Placing your palms on Megumi's lower abdomen, a low growl ruptured from the back of his throat as your breasts were squeezed together by the position of your arms, his own hand getting caught right in between them.

"Leave it on." Megumi said, a threatening tonality surprising you, stopping your hands from removing his shirt as he wanted nothing more than to see it on your body when he'll fuck you for the first time.

Hot, sloppy kisses being placed all over your neck, his teeth grazing the jaw as your pussy clenched the moment Megumi bit on the collarbone knowing it will leave a mark. It was HIS personal mark on you.

Pulling back, lips parted, half-lidded eyes watched a blush pinching his cheeks the moment your hips rolled against his throbbing cock, measuring its length with your motions, realizing through the pleasure that you had to work a bit more than usual to fit him completely. Fingers tilted your chin forward, his eyes meeting yours with a burning question in them. Megumi was specifically waiting for you to approve of what he was about to do to you. Biting on your lower lip, you nodded completely mesmerized of how this man was capable of looking at you, a smirk peppering his pink lips.

"Up." Megumi instructed with a dark gaze.

Happily obliging, you pushed your hips upwards, his fingers pushing to the side the already soaking wet panties, sweet slick drenching his boxers beautifully. The air was sucked out of your lungs in a split second when Megumi's finger expertly made its way inside your gummy walls, pumping slowly in and out as his thumb applied pressure on your clit. Moans filled the room, unable to control as no one has touched you in so many years it was borderline embarrassing. The second finger came almost immediately, both curling inside of you, Megumi picking up the pace, hitting the swollen spot that had you completely weak. His hand went into your hair and pulled at it, lips crashing into each other, teeth clashing, tongues fighting for dominance as your hips rolled against his long fingers chasing the release.

"That's it, baby." Megumi whispered into your mouth before pressing his palm in between your breasts, pushing your body a bit backwards to watch how beautifully you could unravel only by the simple fingering he offered. "That's it."

"I'm - ahh - 'gumi - I -" you tried to speak but the moans mixed with the incredible pleasure were chocking out the words.

"Cum for me, love." Megumi growled as you both picked up the pace with your pussy sucking in his fingers, clenching on them as he finger-fucked you into oblivion, thumb rolling deliciously on the sensitive nub. "Cum all over my hand."

Permission granted, the coil in your stomach snapping violently, a loud, high-pitched moan erupting from inside, thighs trembling as you fell forward, forehead landing on Megumi's shoulder, his fingers moving slower allowing you to ride your high.

"Good girl." Megumi cooed in your ear, warm breath brushing softly, managing to bring out a whimper from your saliva smeared lips.

Before you could inhale a proper breath of air, one of his palms landed sharply on your ass cheek, spreading it open and lifting you slightly. A breath of pleasure left you feeling him shifting slightly as the boxers were pushed off. Looking down, you could see Megumi's beautiful cock in all its might, veins pumped with arousal, beads of pre-cum leaking out of its perfect pink tip and an unwilling growl came out of you, a dark chuckle escaping him.

Megumi teased your wet entrance, the swollen tip of his cock being coated deliciously with the mix of your cum and his pre-cum.

"P-please .." you whispered as your eyes watched with hunger the way he mercilessly teased your pussy, a pleasurable pain forming as all you wanted was to fuck it into you.

"I can't hear you, love." Megumi's playful tonality sending shivers down your spine.

"P-please, baby .. " you begged louder, trying to sink on his cock but he held your hips in place. ".. please .."

"Please what?" Megumi raised an eyebrow as he pulled your chin up to look at him, barely able to keep your eyes open feeling the tip pushing into your entrance before pulling back, shocks of pleasure and frustration jolting through your body.

"Please, fuck me!" you begged again in a much louder tone that had Megumi shiver at how much want you had for him, one he never believed you had in the first place. "I want you so, so fucking bad it hurts!"

"That's my girl." Megumi replied bringing his middle and index finger to your mouth, hooking them on your teeth, pressing gently on the tongue, tasting yourself on his skin.

With a simple, swift movement, fingers grabbed the thin pair of panties and pulled with hunger, ripping them off with ease, almost cumming from the gesture. He started lowering your body on his cock slowly, the need to adjust to such girth clear on your face, eyes wide, tongue rolling out of your mouth under his fingers as you sank lower and lower. The burn and the pain were overcame by the exquisite pleasure of Megumi filling you up. Grabbing a handful of his own shirt, he pushed it behind your neck to only expose your beautiful breasts without taking it off completely.

"All the way, baby." Megumi smirked at the lewd facial expression, pressing his fingers back on your tongue, saliva dripping down them and onto your breasts, an image he will never want to forget. "Such a good girl can take me whole, right?"

You nodded eagerly, not spending another second as you let your body drop, sinking on the cock furiously, a scream filled with pleasure and pain erupting.

"F-fuck!" Megumi groaned as his fingers fell from your mouth. "You're so fucking tight, baby!"

All the praising that fell from his lips had you drenched, adjusting as quickly as you possibly could to his massiveness, rolling your hips slowly, his pelvis brushing your swollen, aroused clit. Moans and groans danced off Megumi's lips, placing your hands on his shoulders for more grip, starting to move up and down the hardened shaft with a delicious pace.

"'s so g-good .." you moaned feeling his cock rubbing the gummy walls inside, your pussy sucking him in with fervor. 's-so biiiig!"

Megumi's brain hit reset completely at your words, the adjusting period of your pussy to his dick ending as he slapped his big hands on your ass cheeks, spreading them open and holding you steady before taking control. Parting your lips wider, merciless moans rolled off them as he began slamming himself into you deliciously, nails digging into the skin of his shoulders. The force and the pace with which Megumi fucked his cock into you had your mind lose all sense of reality, small hand wrapping around his neck and tightening the grip as he gasped slightly for air. This only had him slam into you even more furiously, watching how you lost all composure, eyes half-lidded, tongue rolled out of your mouth, head slightly fallen backwards as your breasts bounced in perfect sync with his rhythm. You could not even form words anymore, the pleasure reaching an all time high, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the man shamelessly bullied his girth into you.

"M-more .." you moaned without even thinking what you were asking for.

With a swift movement, your back hit the mattress, legs being thrown over those broad shoulders, Megumi pushing himself into you to reach the perfect angle for what you have requested feeling your hips lifted more than you were used with. With one hand, he pinned your arms above your head while with the other your hips were held in place. When he sunk his hard cock into your swollen pussy with one movement, your back arched, another scream snapping from your lungs as he bottomed out into you.

"'s too m-muuuuch .." you cried, tears forming in the corner of your eyes as Megumi mercilessly fucked himself into you at an alarming yet delicious pace.

"You asked for it, baby!" Megumi chuckled bringing his hand from yours to wrap around your neck as he noticed you wetting yourself even more when not treated like a lady. "You begged for my cock to ruin this perfect pussy."

His words pulled a whimper out of you, tears staining your cheeks from all the pleasure this man was capable of providing. You have never thought in a million years that Megumi could reset your body and mind in such way, cursing yourself for not doing it a lot earlier.

"Look at you crying for my cock." he teased amused at how you literally started drooling the deeper he reached, bullying your cervix with perfect hits. "Such a beautiful mess for me."

With every thrust, pussy squelching lewdly, skin slapping against the other, you felt another orgasm building, ready to let go at any given moment, a single thrust needed, clenching around him aggressively. Oh, and he knew!

"Don't cum." Megumi's words dawned on you, hitting like a heavy slap as you protested through whimpers. "You asked for more, love."

"P-please .. 'gumi .." you moaned through words. "I-I c-can't .."

"Of course you can, baby!" Megumi cooed pinching one of your nipples only to see you squirm. "Isn't this perfect pussy mine to stretch it out?"

"Y-Yours .." you mumbled clenching around him which earned you the most arousing hiss you have ever heard. "Aaa-aah-all .. y-yours .."

Megumi spread your legs, wrapping them around his waist as he lowered onto you, his cock not slowing down a single bit seeing how much pleasure this aggressiveness was bringing you. The hand from around your neck came down in between your legs, rubbing at the swollen clit having your body starting to tremble, wanting nothing more than to cum. He surely fantasized you completely ravaged by his cock but never imagined you actually craved roughness. In his eyes, you were this pretty, little and innocent sorceress that would never cream on a cock from chocking or by having your pussy abused. Boy, wasn't he wrong?

"Tell me .." Megumi purred against your lips as you could barely keep focus anymore. "Have you ever been fucked this good? You won't cum if you lie."

"N-never .. p-pro-oh-mise" you whined, your hips released from the grip to meet his trust that were becoming sloppy, sign of his own release building rapidly. "P-please .. wa - ah ah - nna cuuum .."

And it was the truth and nothing but the truth so help you God! It was not just to stroke Megumi's ego as he had you at the mercy of his delicious cock. There was only one other person that could dick you down this hard and it started to feel as if even he could not reach the cloud of pleasure on which Megumi placed you.

"Cum with me, baby." he purred into your mouth. "Show me how your perfect pussy can cum on my cock."

The way his voice vibrated throughout your body sent a shock down your spine as a single, bottomed out thrust had you flip over the edge, the violent orgasm having your legs shaking beyond reality, vision going blank, drool dripping out of your mouth, body almost limp. Smeared with all of your juices, drenching in your release, Megumi found himself thrusting another time before pushing himself out, hand wrapped around his cock shooting the thick, white ropes of cum on your belly.

Your mind could not yet comprehend the orgasm you have been pulled through as you panted, trying to grasp the threads of reality. Laying in the same position Megumi left you, unable to move even an inch as he brought over a warm, wet towel to clean off the mess he made. Throwing it on the ground, he crawled into the bed, placing soft kisses from your ankle, along the leg, showering your belly and stomach with small love bites before leaving another mark on your neck. It was visible, the only thing capable of covering it being a turtleneck and he was proud. Megumi was proud of fucking you into oblivion, dicking you down so perfectly, knowing he managed to reset your system completely.

"Baby?" Megumi whispered capturing your puffy lips into a soft kiss to which you hummed in response. "What if I run you a bath?"

"Mhm." you nodded as he pulled you into his chest tightly, your lips peppering tired kisses on his chest, Megumi's heart swelling with love. "Only if you join me."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world." he replied kissing your forehead with a smile before taking his shirt off your body.

Wrapping his arms around your tired body, Megumi picked you up and carried you into the bathroom. Maybe it was how he fucked you, maybe it was how he cared for you in the past three months, maybe it was because of him or maybe it was because you have simply fallen in love with the man. However, the next words that you uttered changed the course of everything no matter where they came from.

"Stay with me." you said as the water surrounded you both, him pulling your back to rest against his chest. "Forever."

"Forever." Megumi replied placing a kiss on your bare shoulder, his heart almost exploding hearing those words he had dreamt of since the day he met you.

But as life has it, when the seed of happiness latches into the soul and starts its most awaited growth, there are bound to be storms that will try to dig out the seed and steal it with its furious winds. Both embraced in the bliss of finding each other, life would have been too kind to warn you about what was to come. So, it waited, patiently, into the shadows leaving you both this moment to remember each other by.

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Father of Mine – 2/2

Character: Bruce Wayne x Daughter!Reader

Summary: With the tragic passing of her mother, Y/N learns to the truth of who her father is.

Word Count: 4,100+

Warnings: absent father, subtle violence, mention of family death

A/N: The reader is described as tall in this fic. Bruce Wayne is 6′2 and I’m tall, so I’m indulging myself with no apologies. Read it or don’t.

Part 1

Bruce was working in the cave when Alfred interrupted him.

“Master Wayne, a guest has arrived unexpectedly.”

Bruce gave him a strange look. Hardly anyone showed up to the manor unannounced.

“Ms. Y/L/N,” Alfred added.

“Right,” Bruce sighed.

“She’s waiting for you in your office.”

Bruce found Y/N pacing in the room, refusing to take the seat that he was sure Alfred offered her.

“Y/N,” he greeted, remembering how she disliked the formalities last night.

She whipped around at his greeting. “Am I your charity case now?”

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

She looked offended by his lie. “Don’t insult my intelligence. You paid all of my outstanding expenses that my mother left me.”

Bruce opened his mouth.

“Don’t try to lie to me,” she warned.

Bruce closed his mouth.

“Look, I don’t need your help,” Y/N sighed in obvious irritation. “Did you or did you not pay them?”

He took in a shallow breath, “I did.”

Y/N clenched her jaw as Bruce finally admitted his deed.

“I was only trying to help.”

“You can’t just throw money at me and expect it to make up for being a no-show.”

Bruce tensed. 

Did that mean…Did she know?

“You read the letter?” He asked.

“No,” she clarified. “But I figured it out.”

“I had no idea,” he tried to tell her.

“I don’t care,” she almost snorted.

“You have ever right to be angry with me…”

“I’m not angry. I’m annoyed.”

She took a defiant step toward him and crossed her arms.

The heeled boots she had on caused her already tall height to make her be eye to eye with Bruce. 

How many people had faced off with Batman and cowered with fear? 

But she didn’t submit or show any signs of intimidation.

“Do you think I cried myself to sleep every night as a child, wondering where my dad was or why he didn’t want me?” Y/N hissed.

Bruce didn’t respond.

“You think I give a fuck about the father-daughter dances? Or whatever the hell people think dads are only capable of doing?” She narrowed her eyes. “The thing is…I didn’t need you. I didn’t need you then and I don’t need you now.”

Bruce felt sick as he listened to her.

“I have the sneaking suspicion that you wouldn’t have been there for those anyway,” she added roughly. “My mom loved me more than enough. I didn’t need anyone else. And she made damn sure of that.”

“So I’m not your charity case to make yourself feel better after my mom made it clear she thought it was better to keep me from you, than to ever tell you that I existed. Says a lot about what kind of person she thought you are, huh?”

When Y/N finally stopped, she was taking deep breaths.

Bruce wondered how long she had that all bottled up. He didn’t think anything she said was a lie. Y/N didn’t need him. That had become clear.

She had grown up to be a successful, intelligent, and independent young woman.

And she got that way without a father figure of any sort.

After a few moments, Bruce finally bowed his head and cleared his throat. “I never intended on making you feel like a charity case.”

Bruce saw as Y/N took in a deep breath and the guilt slowly took over her expression.  

“Look,” Y/N sighed, “we finally know the truth. Let’s just���let’s just move on with our lives. OK?”  

Bruce couldn’t deny that the suggestion hurt.

After processing the news over the past week or so, he realized he wanted to get to know her. This wasn’t the first time a child of his had been dropped on him far too late. He had failed Damian in so many ways because of it. 

But Y/N was a young woman, fully developed and independent now. And Bruce couldn’t help but wonder that him being absent from her childhood had only benefitted her.

“If that’s what you want,” he finally told her.

Y/N didn’t know him well enough to hear the underlying pain in his words.

So she simply nodded and walked past him, having nothing more to say.

——————

Bruce adjusted his tie. He wanted nothing more than to rip it off his neck.

But he was on his best behavior tonight.

This year, the Gotham Gazette was given the honor of hosting the Pulitzer Prizes. And since Bruce and Wayne Enterprises donated quite a large sum of money to the Gotham Gazette, they felt inclined to invite him.

Bruce had every intention of skipping, until he found out that Lois Lane was receiving an award and Clark would also be attending.

He figured the least he could do was congratulate her and say hi to both of them.

That’s why he was trying to find them as soon as possible so he could and get the hell out of there.

Bruce finally spotted Clark talking to a woman whose back was to him. All he saw of her was the black dress and y/h/c hair. 

He made his way over.

Clark noticed him when he was a few feet away.

“I see you’ve finally left your cave,” he teased with a lift of his brow. “I honestly didn’t expect you to show.”

But when the woman Clark was speaking to turned to look at him, Bruce swore he felt his heart stop.  

Y/N’s eyes widened slightly, clearly just as surprised at seeing Bruce.

None of this went missed by Clark. “Oh, do you two know each other?”

Bruce didn’t know how to respond. What would Y/N want? 

So he hesitated.

“I shot him for a cover once,” Y/N answered quickly.

She was a shockingly smooth liar.

Maybe she got that from Bruce, too.

But she didn’t realize that Clark could hear her heart rate quicken, catching the fib.

“And how exactly do you two know each other?” Bruce asked, recovering quickly.

“Y/N works with Lois a lot,” Clark answered. “She basically refuses to work with any other photographer.”

Y/N managed to force a smile.

“I should actually go find her and say my congrats,” she answered. 

“And I need to hunt down a drink,” she mumbled. 

Both men caught it.

Clark was rather taken aback by how she fled.

The Y/N he knew was always charming and kind, usually life of the party. He’d never seen her dodge a conversation in such a way before.

As soon as she was out of hearing range, Clark gave a intimidating glare to Bruce.

“Want to tell me what that was about?” He asked Bruce.

But Bruce only clenched his jaw.

“Past fling?” Clark asked with a somewhat disappointed tilt of his head.

“No. Nothing like that,” Bruce quickly corrected.

Not only did the idea make him feel sick. But if rumors started of the two of them being romantically linked, Bruce knew it would only make Y/N hate him more than she clearly already did. 

Thankfully, Clark took his denial seriously.

“She’s not my biggest fan,” Bruce added darkly.

“Y/N is a good friend,” Clark told him – almost in warning. “Lois and her have become rather close over the years.”

Then Clark smirked. “She does know how to hold a grudge though. And she’ll make your life hell...if you deserve it.” 

Bruce’s brain hurt as he realized how easily Y/N and his path’s could’ve crossed. She had been friends with Clark and Lois this whole time?

“I’m happy for her,” Clark added.

“Happy for her?”

Clark looked at Bruce as if it was obvious. “She’s being awarded tonight, too.”

How could Bruce not have realized? Why didn’t he think of looking at the list of people being awarded tonight? He’d been dreading attending so much that he didn’t even consider it.

“Bruce?” Clark asked with concern.

“Hmm?” He was not one to hum or mumble.

“You alright?”

Bruce didn’t have a lot of friends.

But Clark Kent was one of them. And him and Diana had noticed how Bruce was acting off for weeks now. Bruce was notorious for remaining stoic and giving nothing for people to try and guess what he was thinking or feeling. But they both knew it was something different. 

Someone over Bruce’s shoulder suddenly waved Clark over.

“If you’ll excuse me,” Clark told Bruce politely.

Bruce’s first instinct was to leave now that he knew Y/N was also in attendance.

But he knew he couldn’t act so cowardly.

Was he really that scared of his own daughter?

His eyes glanced around the room looking for her.

He spotted Y/N at one of the bars.

Either her conversation with Lois had been quick, or she simply used that as an excuse to get away from Bruce.

Bruce walked up beside Y/N at the bar.

He knew she felt his arrival by the way her body tensed.

“Had I known you would be here I would not have attended,” he told her while looking straight ahead.

Y/N ignored his apology. “How do you know Clark?”

“He’s a friend,” Bruce answered casually.

Then he allowed himself to take a sideways glance at her.

Her jaw was clenched.

He wondered what thoughts she was holding back.

Y/N really did remind him of her mother.

When they were together, Bruce was convinced she was the prettiest girl in the world. He wondered if Y/N had found someone in her life who told her the same.

“Congratulations on being honored tonight,” Bruce offered sincerely.

“Thank you,” she answered shortly.

A beat passed between them.

Bruce was about to give up and leave her be.

“Does Clark think I’m one of your one-night stands now?”

Y/N might not know Bruce well, but everyone was familiar with his romantic history. He wasn’t one to keep the same woman around for long. 

“No,” he quickly answered. “I made sure to prevent such a rumor from starting.”

Y/N finally slowly turned to him, her annoyance clear. “And you’re convinced that he really believed you?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Yes, Clark has always been rather good at detecting a lie.” His tone was so confident that it left little room for argument.

But Bruce knew a losing battle when he saw one.

He dipped his head. “Enjoy the rest of your night. Congratulations again.”

But Bruce lingered, debating if he wanted to say what was on my mind.

“You look very beautiful. Just like your mother.”

There was nothing creepy or contrived about it.

Y/N blinked at the compliment, completely taken aback.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” Bruce dipped his head and finally surrendered, leaving the party.

Y/N felt a presence behind her shoulder as he watched him leave.

“Was Bruce Wayne just hitting on you?” Lois asked with amusement.

“No. Not at all,” her tone was dazed and confused.

“He’s a good guy,” Lois told her lightly.

“Doubt it.”

“I mean it,” Lois insisted. “The media has given him a bad image. But I think he likes it that way,” she shrugged. “It’s not easy for him to open up. He’s not quick to trust.”

Lois thought she was building up a possible suitor for Y/N, having not a clue that she was describing Y/N’s father to her.

But Y/N was too busy thinking about how much Bruce sounded like her.

—————

A few weeks had gone by since Bruce and Y/N had run into each other at the ceremony.

It got Bruce to thinking: would he and Y/N had run into each other at some point in life – even without her mother’s posthumously confession?

Y/N knew Lois and Clark, lived in Gotham, seemed to know the same people through her work that Bruce was forced to interact with to keep up his persona.

Would he have sensed a connection had that been the case?

The possibilities kept Bruce up at night…along with the guilt that had already been eating away at him since he first read the later. And he’d read it 100 times more since.

Of all the boys, Dick was the only one that knew of Y/N’s existence. And if he hadn’t been at the right place at the right time, Bruce never would’ve told him. He had just been in shock after reading the letter that he blurted out the realization while Dick was in the same room.

Since then, Bruce didn’t linger in a room alone with him, knowing Dick would finally let all of his questions loose. And Bruce wasn’t ready to answer them.

While Tim was the one to connect them, he never followed through with what the situation was. He already had too much to deal with on a daily basis. Tim simply thought he was doing a nice favor for a beautiful woman. 

But if Bruce had told him, Tim would immediately do every possible background check on Y/N. He would be suspicious of the timing and underlying motives. He would probably assume that Y/N’s end goal was to get money or fame – or both. Bruce knew eventually Tim would come to the conclusion that Y/N wanted neither of those things. But it would still get an unnecessary rise out of the boy.

Bruce didn’t even want to think about how Damian would handle it. He knew his son felt a certain level of pride from being the only blood-son of his. Knowing he had a sibling – and an older sister at that – would most likely enrage him. And that wouldn’t make anything better. 

Jason…Well, Jason would get a kick out of Bruce letting down yet another child. And it would just be worse that she was blood related. He’d be curious about Y/N. Hell, he’d probably be tickled by the no-bullshit attitude Y/N had towards Bruce and her harsh efforts to keep him out of her life completely.

Now, Bruce sat at a Justice League meeting.

They were only a few minutes into a council session when his communicator started going off.

The boys knew not to contact him unless it was an emergency. So, he quickly excused himself and stood to leave the room.

“What is it?” Bruce answered, his Batman voice in full form.

“There’s been an attack at city hall,” Dick reported back hurriedly.

Bruce frowned. The boys had handled much worse things on their own before. There had to be more to it than that.

“Scarecrow,” Dick confirmed. “He released a fear toxin. It’s bad Bruce. The mayor has been infected, along with half of their staff. I think it’s a new string. Our antidote doesn’t seem to doing anything. Even if it did, we don’t have nearly enough for the amount of victims.”

“The others?” Bruce asked quickly – meaning Damian, Jason, and Tim.

“They’re fine. Jason’s trying to get everyone out before they inhale too much. Tim and Damian went after Scarecrow. GPD is in a panic.”

Bruce turned to see Clark had raced to his side. Clearly he had been eavesdropping on the conversation. But the expression in his face prevented Bruce from getting into an argument about it.

“What?” Bruce asked him, knowing something was wrong.

“Lois and Y/N were at that council meeting,” Clark breathed out.

“We’ll be there soon,” Bruce told Dick before hanging up.

—

Bruce thought he knew fear from the few times his boys had been in trouble. But it was nothing compared to the fear he had knowing it was Y/N this time. She wasn’t a trained vigilante; she was just an innocent civilian. Bruce had not insured that she was trained and could take care of herself.

As soon as Clark dropped them on the ground, they were in the midst of the chaos.

“Lois!” Clark yelled.

People were too distracted to notice Superman and Batman had arrived.

Bruce looked over to see Lois rushing to Clark. He could tell it took all of Clark’s willpower not to embrace Lois from his relief.

“Are you OK?” Clark asked as he dipped his head and his eyes raced across his wife’s body.

“I-I’m fine. I got lucky. Somehow I was out of range of the gas explosion.”

“Y/N?” Bruce interrupted. “Did you see Y/N?”

“She was helping these kids get out and I was getting shoved out of the building. I tried to get to her but it was impossible with everyone’s panic. I think she’s still in there.”

Before Bruce could turn to Clark to come up with a plan, Clark flew into the building. A few people finally noticed the presence of superheroes and started murmuring.

“Nightwing, Red Hood – I’m at the front entrance of City Hall.”

Clark flew back to them not even 30 seconds later.

Y/N was unconscious in his arms.

“Oh my god,” Lois muttered at Y/N’s condition.

“She’s gone into shock. We need to get her to the medics,” Clark informed them. “She was exposed to the toxin more than the others.”

But Bruce was already shaking his head. “They won’t be able to help her.”

Clark gently handed Y/N to Bruce as he explained, “There are others in there.”

Just then Nightwing and Red Hood dropped in front of them.

Nightwing immediately recognized Y/N and his eyes shot up to Bruce with worry.

“Nightwing, I need you to take her back to the cave,” he tried to sound as controlled as possible.

Bruce was confused why Dick hesitated to take Y/N out of his arms.

“Do you have the batmobile? I brought my motorcycle,” Dick sounded apologetic when he explained.

Jason stepped forward before Bruce could answer. “I got her.”

As if she were the most fragile being ever, Jason carefully took Y/N’s unconscious body from Bruce’s grip. He could see in Bruce’s gaze that she was someone special. How and why, Jason would figure out later. 

Jason had seen Y/N trying to help as many people before she was completely poisoned from the toxin. She’d risked her life to help. 

Watching Jason cradle her into his body caught Clark off guard, always seeing the brute strength and almost animalistic energy from Red Hood whenever they so happened to fight beside each other.

“Meet us at the cave,” Bruce clarified. “Alfred will know what to do. We have to help out here more.”

Jason nodded before he hurried away with her and rushed to his hidden car.  

——————

Y/N’s eyes snapped open and she shot up, sitting in a cot.

“Hey, hey, hey,” a voice she didn’t recognize said beside her. “You gotta relax.”

She turned to see a mammoth of a man sitting beside her, wearing vigilante gear with at least two guns being displayed at his sides. But it was the red helmet completely hiding his face and true voice that made Y/N feel uncomfortable.

“What the fuck,” she groaned at the sight of him.

Just a few seconds later, two men rushed into the room.

Bruce walked in still in his Batman uniform, but without his cowl – to Jason’s shock.

Clark was beside him, making Jason confused as to why he was still here. Surely he would want to be with Lois. 

Y/N took in the sight before her.

“You were poisoned with a new strand of Scarecrow’s toxin,” Superman explained.

Y/N had seen plenty of pictures and shaky video of him. But now that the man stood before her, she immediately recognized him.

“Clark?” She gasped.

He didn’t say anything. But his expression didn’t fight her realization, just silently waited for the truth to settle.

“Does Lois know?” Was her next question.

Clark smirked at that. “Of course.”

Y/N gave a slight nod.

But now her attention switched to Bruce. 

The Batman symbol was large across his chest, and his cape was still intact.

She looked around her surroundings and then up at the ceiling.

They were in a cave.

“You’re…you’re…” she couldn’t finish her sentence.

“Batman,” Bruce finally offered.

Y/N’s eyes were wide with panic.

How was this possible?

Now that the others had exposed their identity, Jason felt inclined to take off his helmet. Clearly, it was making her uncomfortable.

The hiss of his helmet being removed caused Y/N to finally look away from her father and to Jason, who still wore a domino mask. But it was far less frightening than the helmet.

“We’ll give you two a moment alone,” Clark spoke for both him and Jason.

Jason nodded and stood up from the seat beside Y/N, and walked out. 

Clark lingered in the doorway. “I’ll be right outside if you need me,” he told her.

He might’ve revealed his Superman identity to her, but she was still his friend.

Y/N managed to nod in thanks, but was clearly still shook by all this news.

Bruce very slowly made his way to the chair that Jason had just been sitting in.

“How are you feeling?”

She shook her head. “Body’s sore. Migraine is killing me. What happened?”

“You were more exposed to the toxin more than the other victims. Jason brought you here. We had to make a new anecdote, and quickly.”

Bruce wanted to add that she could’ve died. But he didn’t see the use in scaring her.

“Oh,” was all she managed to mumble.

An awkward silence settled between them.

“Very few people know the truth about me,” Bruce explained.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up from her lap to look at him.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I figured I couldn’t ask you to allow me into your world if I didn’t allow you into mine.”

She was silent.

“Y/N…” Bruce cleared his throat. The time had come. “The reason I left your mother was because I was starting this life. I pushed her away to protect her. I knew I couldn’t be the man she deserved while also being Batman. Had I known the truth…”

His words died out. It was starting to become harder to control his emotions.

He leaned forward in his chair, just getting slightly closer to her.

“Had I known about you, I would’ve…” He cleared his throat to try and hold back his tears. “I never would’ve abandoned you or your mother.”

He leaned back then. “But I know those are just words. And to you, they probably sound like empty promises for the past.”

“She never knew?” Y/N whispered.

In the few moments she was allowed to process this information, her mind immediately wondered if her mom had known about Bruce’s double life all along. And that’s why she kept him away from her.

Bruce shook his head.

“Thank you…for trusting me enough to tell me your secret,” Y/N finally told him. “I promise I’ll never tell anyone,” she quickly added, feeling like she just needed to clarify that to him.

He gave her a small small, “I know.”

Y/N winced as she thought about how terrible she’d been to him all this time. Now that she knew the truth – the whole truth – she was looking at everything with a new perspective. Even what she knew about Bruce Wayne, the spoiled socialite... it was clearly all wrong. 

He used it as a cover. It was all a cover.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you,” she whispered shakily.

But Bruce shook his head before she could even get the apology out.

“Do you think it’s too late for us?” She breathed. 

Could they ever find any fragment of a father-daughter relationship?

Y/N was an adult – she had been for years now. And she made it clear she didn’t need nor want a father.

“Believe it or not, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me,” Bruce sighed.

Her brow furrowed. “This meaning…?”

“My son, Damian. His mother kept him a secret from me. She didn’t reveal his existence until he was nine. And she only did it in an attempt to disrupt my life.”

“This seems to be a rather strange pattern in your life,” Y/N couldn’t help but point out.

Bruce glared at her, causing her to chuckle.

“My point is,” he continued, “I don’t think it’s ever too late.” And he cleared his throat quickly. “That is, if you want to try.”

“I think I do,” she answered with a shy smile.

It was the first time she’d done so in his presence.

“I don’t know anything about raising a daughter,” Bruce rubbed his face as he attempted to make the joke. But she could tell there was sincerity there, too.

“Well, I’ve already been raised,” Y/N laughed.

There.

That laugh.

It brought Bruce back to his teenage years. It sounded so much like her mother. Her face lit up just like her’s had.

“You remind me so much of your mother,” he gasped.

Her face dropped at his confession.

“Really?”

He nodded. “She said you were just like me. But there’s more of her in you than I think she ever realized.”

Bruce saw his much his words effected her.

Y/N’s eyes were shiny with tears, but she managed to hold them back.

“So what now?” She quickly asked, obviously trying to distract herself so she wouldn’t have a complete emotional breakdown.

“Well, Alfred should have dinner ready soon. Would you stay?”

She gave him a tear-filled smile. “I’d like that.”

“You can meet the rest of them,” Bruce told her casually as he stood.

“The rest of them?”

He nodded. “Well, you only have to meet Damian now. You already met Jason, Dick, and Tim in passing.”

“And here I thought you had no idea how to be a father…” Y/N muttered with amusement.

Bruce helped her get out of bed, making sure she was alright to stand and walk on her own.

“Well, depending on which of them you ask, they might tell you that you’re right.”

--------------------

Thank you to everyone who read the first part. Let me know what you think <3

BONUS: This Game of Ours

[pricescigar]

My Daughter

Summary: Every story has a beginning, and Monroe's story was one of them. When he believes Elvira could be the recianrnated self of his late daughter, his insanity grew stronger...

The 1918 influenza pandemic was the most severe pandemic in recent history. It was caused by an H1N1 virus with genes of avian origin. It killed an estimated 50 million people worldwide. Monroe and his daughter Elvira, live in the desolate Village in Romania. Even then… The Flu didn't spare his little daughter. . .

8th of August 1919

"You'll be alright Elvira, I promise you… You're my little fighter." Monroe spoke to his daughter softly, he pulled the cold flannel looking at her.

"Papa…" Elvira spoke softly, she was terribly weak and fragile. The flu had taken a toll on her. And Monroe was worried for her, no remedy was working on her. Watching Elvira slowly drift off to sleep, he stepped away to wet the flannel again. Once he returned back to Elvira's bedroom, he knew something was wrong.

Monroe approached Elvira's bed, he gently placed his fingers on Elvira's wrist to feel her pulse… And it wasn't there, he was in denial. His worry increased, he knelt down to her. Trying to wake her up, alas it didn't work. "No… Elvira, wake up, please, wake up for me…" He whispered to her, no matter what Monroe did… Elvira didn't wake up. He held her little body close to his. Holding his daughter close to him, closing his eyes, feeling a few tears running down his cheeks.

1 week later. . .

"I'm so sorry for your loss Monroe, losing a child is never easy… If you need anything. We'll be here to help you." Luiza sympathetically put a hand on his shoulder.

"I just want my daughter back… I don't want help, I don't want anything…" Monroe spoke softly, staring down at Elvira's grave, seeing the little Coffin broke his heart. 

"I know… I know you do Monroe, we won't let you suffer alone. We never suffer alone." Luiza said to him, as they watched the soil being dug up. 

"I wish to be alone." Monroe simply said kneeling down and he placed flowers down by Elvira's grave. Luiza simply nodded and the other villagers who attended the funeral had soon left.

The weeks had been hard for Monroe, he isolated himself and none of the townspeople saw him again. Even if they did it was a rare sight– He remained in his home, alone with his thoughts. Elvira was the only thing in life that he truly ever cared about, forget about all the other people in the damn village… It was only his daughter he cared about, and now she's gone. He could no longer concentrate at his job, the forever battle he was trying to fight in his mind… The grief and loss, it was getting all too much. Not to mention the dreams he'd been having the last couple of weeks… Nothing made sense, nothing did anymore. Life was cruel and unfair to the man, and all he ever wanted was answers. Though he never dared to tell anyone his true feelings…

The cave, that's where he drifted off to. He was so lost, and in so much pain. The grief was hitting him hard, the ache within his heart was a different kind of pain. He was angry, angry with the world. Angry that the epidemic took the only thing he ever cared about. Overstaying his visit in that cave, the mold infected Monroe. And there… He began to see all memories of assimilated organisms, everything made sense to him.

Monroe searched deeper in the vast memories, and there he saw his daughter again. However, she looked much older, this was the future… Impossible, his daughter had been reincarnated into this young woman. The village alone would be in shambles if Monroe would go through great lengths, but his daughter Elvira was back…

Monroe was a different man when he walked out of that cave, he took the molds sample, wanting to find out more about it as a whole. He began to heal the sick to see its side effects, and how it would affect people as a whole. He was fascinated by it's work, with enough people healed, and enough gaining his trust. He manipulated them, from there he made his own version of the mold known as the "Cadou Parasite." 

Monroe phoned himself as "The Blsck God." But to the poor villagers who had abandoned their own Christan faith, serving under Monroe's faith… To a new Pagan Cult that had risen, he then became known as "Father Monroe."

With those long decades of research, experimenting… Failed experiments, hosts out of control; Those unlucky villagers… Those who had turned into Lycans. Soon to make a den of their own, recognised as failed experiments of Father Monroe himself. The most promising candidates of Monroe's Cadou experiments were themselves the descendants of the Four Kings who ruled over the region - Azariel Dimitrescu, Karl Heisenberg, Donna Beneviento, and Salvatore Moreau. Monroe found them perfect as their own individuality despite their ancient feudal rule over the region and they operated together as a council. And that was all they ever were… They watched the village like Hawk's.

In the space of those decades time was slow, even if all was lost. He didn't give up, knowing that somewhere down the line… Monroe would finally see his own daughter again.

During Monroe's free time he created a story, but not any kind of story. A fairy tale, a tale that told of his daughter reincarnated; Elvira, upon seeing her future henceforth, he created the story and was given out to the villagers who had children. Deemed as a local tale to the many villagers and the children who were there and of the truth come what may.

 The four Lords read the books too, however they kept their true options to themselves; But to Donna and Moreau... They were rather excited, to say the least, hearing Monroe's daughter would return. They were happy for him of course, hell the four Lords were lucky that Monroe ever spoke about his feelings.

How could Monroe ever come up with something like this, they would always question. But the four Lords knew well enough; To never question Father Monroe, no one would ever dare to do that. Unless you wanted to get on his bad side…And as the story would always go. . . 

"Long ago, a young woman found herself awake in the cold, dark and desolate forest.  In the freezing cold, the cold air whispered in her ear. Chills running down her whole body, shivering, holding herself ever so clearly for the warmth she needed. Finding such will and courage, she journeyed her way through into the unknown or what may lie ahead of her. At the end of the forest, her eyes met a large castle. For the bell has tolled echoing all throughout the village, the monsters of all the village grew wild. For attacking the stranger that bestowed upon their territory. Managing to escape from the beast's grasps, and finding herself on the way to the ancient castle. While trying to find warmth and shelter, one of the many monsters found her. Knocking her out, while the other monsters called out to the summon. The great witch appeared, his dark figure, dark yet regal . . . Darkness appeared around her. For she, the fly got trapped within the spider's web.  Until then suddenly. . . The bat lord had suddenly appeared! It's great wings spread out, high and mighty. Saving her from such darkness that tried to engulf her . . . Whisking her away to it's grand castle, there his sons would be and his brother. Endlessly fighting for her life, terrified, scared and lonely. Feeling the hatred and burden of it all. In the howling night, the girl struggled to sleep. Tossing and turning in her newly found bed, in no hopes of being able to return back to her old life. The nightmares catching up to her . . . Yet then again, to save her from those wretched thoughts, the bat lord once again was always there.

With his wise and cunning words, his voice sweet and deep like honey. Softly and tenderly tending to her every need to calm her, to soothe her saying to her, in the dark of the night: "My dear, come to me. But do not fret, for I am your guide, your shelter, your protector. Of night and day. . . Until the end of time."

And the story concludes there… The pages blank and unfinished, now why would Monroe give out an unfinished book? Because the story is only beginning.

5th of February 2021

Elvira noticed her father was out and about again, which she didn't mind. She always appreciated her own company, and that was enough. Luckily it was her time off from all the Military training that Chris had been giving her, it was a little tough, but if she wanted to be strong; This is what she needed to do, hearing the front door closing she knew her father had returned. Making her way downstairs to see him, but it wasn't her father. It was a complete stranger. It was Monroe.

"Vater you're- … Who the hell are you? How did you get in here?" Elvira became suspicious as she stared at Monroe.

Monroe was looking at the photo of Dietrich, Mia and Elvira, which was in a frame as he looked over to Elvira. "I'm here to bring you back." He placed the photo frame down.

"What the hell? You creep, get out of my house." Elvira spoke sternly this time as she backed away from him cautiously.

"Your father is dead, come with me if you want to ensure your safety." Monroe still remained calm, as he extended his hand towards her. Still advancing, he wanted to do this the easier way.

Monroe watched Elvira closely and saw her get a pistol out of the Kitchen drawer, he could only laugh as he watched the pistol being aimed towards him. He wasn't scared at all. "Go on… Shoot me. I'm not afraid." He stepped towards her.

Elvira shot him a couple of times, one bullet went into his shoulder and the other two bullets went into his chest. But it didn't take an effect on him, he grabbed the Pistol, crushing it into pieces like it was nothing. 

"You're coming with me." Monroe spoke seriously, when Elvira tried to escape he grabbed her wrists pulling her towards him roughly. Pressing onto the pressure points in her neck, watching her fall he easily caught her. 

"I'm sorry if it had to turn out like this Elvira, everything will make sense soon… I promise you." Monroe whispered to her.

[theyreonlynoodlesmike]

It’s Just a Movie: Part 15 (Poly!Lost Boys x reader) fic

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: angst, depression, blood mention

Word Count: 2081

(( This chapter is mainly just exposition cause I actually want to finish this story and not lose mojo for it!! Hope you guys enjoy!! ))

Nightly visits to the boardwalk never seemed to get boring, even if it’s what you had been doing for months. With the boys, your boys, you could never be bored. Time passed like grains of sand in an hourglass, each day slipping out of your fingers and down to the bottom. As the summer months got closer, the less you felt like going home. 

Of course, you had your days, and your phases. Something would happen, usually small, and you’d find yourself reaching for your phone. You had stopped bringing it with you to the boardwalk, finding that you couldn’t take it out on the boardwalk and it wasn’t like you could use it much anyways. And sometimes that was it. You’d remind yourself that you hadn’t brought it with you, that you had no use for it, and that was it. But not always. There were days, days that didn’t start occurring until after you’d been there for over three months, where that realization would encircle your heart like a cruel fist. It’d squeeze, and you would suddenly feel out of place. Wrong. Lost. 

Those moments racked through you, and there was hardly much you could do to stop the aftermath the first time it happened. Sobs would escape your mouth before you could stop them, and the boys had been just as taken aback as you were. They had, unfortunately, seen you cry before. But that had been from their own actions. Your sudden break, sudden sorrow, had been confusing to all of them. Though, of course, there were a couple of them who were more vocal than the others. You were lucky that you hadn’t left the cave yet. You had cried for nearly hours, with the boys trying in various ways to get you to stop until they finally just let you let it out.

When you were finally able to explain, you found that they understood more than you thought they would. It was then that you reminded yourself that they were lost too.

You had been lying in your bed with David besides you. They were taking turns trying to cheer you up before, but there was something about the blonde that comforted you just a tad bit more than the others. Perhaps it was that he wasn’t telling you it was going to get better. Or trying to make you laugh. Or trying to cheer you up at all. He was simply there, smoking in your room no matter if you asked him not to. You were laying your head on his chest, which was silent under your ear. After an hour of silence, David decided to speak.

“We all went through, well, something similar.” He said suddenly, and you lifted your head. Confusion was evident on your face, and you said an audible, 

“Huh?” David blew the smoke towards the ceiling and shook his head, gesturing to you.

“Your- whatever it was. I guess your denial stage is over.” He said, and you sat up. Denial? For some reason, David was the best at flaring your temper, and his words did exactly that. You had been dating all of them for two months at that point, and David knew what anger looked like on your face fairly well by then.

“Denial?” You echoed, and you watched as the blonde took another drag. In the past months that you’d been dating them, you’d learned to read all of them fairly well too, and you could tell David wished he hadn’t said anything. As annoying as he could be, you found that he just liked getting on your nerves. Not getting into actual fights. He sat up as well, but he leaned back against the mountain of pillows that the boys had collected for you.

“Denial. You were telling yourself that this wasn’t really happening. That you weren’t really staying here.” He said, and you couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to bring this up again. You scoffed, shaking your head as you moved away from him. Now, some things made sense. Why he’d dropped the topic so many months before. He knew you couldn’t control it, and he chose to chalk up your reluctance as denial. You couldn’t believe him, and you had half a mind to tell him to get out before he was reaching for your hand. “I’m saying this because we went through it too, y/n. We all had to mourn our old lives.” He said, and you stared at him in a whirlwind of confusion and anger. But there was something about what he’d said that struck you. It never occurred to you that the boys had anything to leave behind. Sure, you had read the prequel script, but there wasn’t anything solid. Anything that had made it to the screen. You shook your head.

“But I’m not- I’m not like you. I’m not a vampire. And I’m not- We don’t know if I’m staying forever.” You said, and he stared at you. You watched the way his eyes changed. How just the tiniest bit of disappointment had crept into them. In the two months since you’d started dating, David had become more affectionate. You weren’t surprised when he reached out to cup your cheek, and you let him. Even if your anger was still brewing. 

“I know.” You could tell that he wanted to say more. Hell, it was rare that he was ever this quiet, and now you almost wished that he would monologue at you. But, whatever he wanted to say, it seemed he had decided you weren’t ready for it yet. Or that he didn’t want the fight that would follow it. Instead, he held out his arms and said, “C’mere.” It was a small command, and you narrowed your eyes at him before you sighed and gave in. You crawled back into his arms, tucking your head under his chin as his arms wrapped around you. Neither of you spoke of the topic anymore, even if his words had caused a new flurry of thoughts inside your head. 

You’d been depressed for a few weeks afterwards. Angry and irritable. And, sometimes, just the tad bit resentful of the four. But, you quickly reminded yourself that this wasn’t their fault, and those feelings dissolved as time moved on and the wound began to heal. There were other moments when the wound would reopen, just as painful and wrenching as the first time that you realized you may be stuck there for good, but those times became fewer and farther in-between until the approaching summer brought on a whole new wave of something else. Excitement. Anxiety. Doubt. 

And the closer it got, the more difficult it became to ignore your situation. It was finally a week in late March that you asked David what he had in mind for when you met Star, and it had taken all of the boys by surprise. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been planning for the summer, but none of them had dared to discuss any plans that involved factoring you into it. And when you asked, you couldn’t help but notice how it had pleased your boyfriends. Even if they did their best to hide it, though some were better than others. It was growing increasingly difficult to pay attention to David’s ideas when Paul kept kissing down your neck, and Marko wasn’t helping either. He was holding your hand, and if you dared to look in his direction then he would take that as an opportunity to lean in and steal a quick press of your lips. And if you didn’t? Well, he would simply nuzzle your cheek instead. Finally, after a glare from David, you had settled to sit in Dwayne’s lap. Even then, the brunette kept squeezing your waist every so often, and you swore that you could feel him smiling, just ever so slightly, into your hair.

By the time June arrived, acceptance was inevitable. It was officially summer, and there you were. Still in sunny Santa Carla. Not that you got to see the sun that often. But you had been in their world for seven months, and your world seemed like a thing of the past. And as your nerves for the upcoming events grew, you could hardly spare a thought for your home. 

There was no clear indicator as to when the Emersons would arrive, and you didn’t have the internet to research. The best you could do once summer arrived was wait. You weren’t the only one that this was proving difficult for, and certain boys seemed ready to pull their hair out when a hint of what was to arrive finally came. Max, no matter how well the boys hid you, had asked if the boys had started seeing anyone. He assured that he hadn’t actually seen you, but he’d said he could rather smell you. Apparently, a feminine scent was hanging off of all of them. The boys did their best to dodge the topic, and dodge mentioning you. The five of you were worrying about how you were going to cover your tracks when you finally caught sight of a curly haired brunette just at the turn of the month. 

The five of you had been on the boardwalk together, going on one of your weekly group dates. Dwayne had his arm around you, even if Paul was trying his best to snatch you out from under him. Your breath had hitched when you saw her. You had to admit. She was gorgeous, even if the sight of her made you feel like you were going to faint. Or throw up. Or both. It was Dwayne that called your name before he asked,

“You okay?” And you quickly looked up at the brunette. You looked ahead, pointing with your eyes, at the barefooted and red lipped girl floating through the crowd. When the others saw her, it sobered any fun that they’d been having. It was time. You’d all been discussing it for literal months, and now it was time to put that plan into action. You reached out for the boy besides you, your hand tangling into Pauls’, and you gave it a hard squeeze. The thought repeated in your mind. It was time. 

You didn’t know if it was anxiety or adrenaline, but the night seemed to pass by in a blur. You remembered David approaching her, the drive back to the cave, and now you were sitting on the couch with the girl, Star, sitting besides you. You felt a similar feeling as to the first time you met the boys. Disbelief. Surprise. A strange feeling that this couldn’t be real, even if the past seven months made it obvious that it was. 

You didn’t expect to get along with her, but it came as a welcome surprise. Stars face had a way of lighting up as she laughed, and it was helped with how much Paul joked with her from his spot on the wall. Both you and Dwayne smiled, Dwayne’s arm wrapped around the back of your seat on the couch. Marko stood besides David’s chair, egging Paul’s joke on further while David sat in his chair, smoked, and laughed at their banter. You were having a good time, even if what was going to happen soon itched at the back of your mind. Even if you knew the events of the future, it was hard to imagine, at least right now, that Star would be alright with betraying them. Even if you had just met, you had to admit that she fit into the group almost a little too well. And you tried to not let jealousy crowd your thoughts, even if it was David's flirting that had gotten her to come to the cave. You reminded yourself that she ended up with Michael. Whatever she thought of your boys now, it'd change the second she saw Michael. If not the second she turned.

When David finally offered her the bottle, you almost felt bad. Almost wanted to stop it. You even went as far as flicking your gaze to David's. But you couldn’t change what needed to be done. Not when she was the one who reeled in Michael. Not when Max was starting to become suspicious. Not when the boys' lives were at stake. That's exactly what David's eyes told you. So, you watched as Star drank the blood.

[hnychn]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐓𝐄 [𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐈]

summary : levi wanted to believe the Fates were kind, but he should have known better

warnings : character death, heavy loss, a single mention of suicide, more greek myth allusions, fem! reader

word count : 3000+

a/n : omgomgomg tysm @yeehawslap for giving me permission to write this, i swear when i read their post i was immediately inspired to write this and i'm so sorry to your feelings :') also i swear i changed the title of this like, ten times

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The Fates had dealt Levi a rough life. 

When the goddess Clotho had spun the thread of his life, she must have incorporated thorns into every string; even now Levi could feel the pricks of guilt that chipped away at his soul each time he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and faced the bloodied scout patches of the lives lost.. 

Lachesis had enforced his life; she had been the one to use his thread to create. Although, Levi must admit, the fates must have favored him a tiny bit if they had sent you to him. You, his lovely wife whom he met one late evening under the stars, a gash on his head and gauze in your hand ready for you to patch up. 

You had been there to take out every thorn in his thread Clotho had stuck in his life; every ounce of guilt, every second of regret had been a burden on his shoulders you relieved by simply being there. 

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad. 

They must have been even just an ounce of virtuous if they had allowed him to call you his forever. The fates had strung together a love story into his thread of life and allowed him to invite someone into the most intimate parts of him, allow him to find peace within someone; to create a life together. 

Levi could remember the day when you burst into his office, a smile so bright he was sure even the sun was envious of the warmth you radiated. No words were spoken as you pulled him into your arms and cried. 

It was only through hiccups and sobs did he hear your soft voice tell him he had created a life. And while your stomach was still as flat as it had been the night before and many nights before that, he pressed his hand against it nonetheless and promised to protect the life within you until his very last breath. 

Perhaps the Fates weren't all that bad. 

Isabel, as the two of you named your daughter, had become a nearly carbon copy of her father. not only did she share many features in common with him, she also inherited his strength. 

She was able to hold her head up on her own only a mere months after birth, and she often gave you a terrible fright when she climbed out of her crib at night with a strength a toddler shouldn't have. Though, it was of no real surprise to either of you; you were sure your womb must have taken a terrible beating with the strength of her kicks while she was still growing inside of you. 

And, with her strength and many similarities with her father, came her desire to join the scouts. 

It was the first time in her life Levi had denied her something. 

Admittedly, little Isabel had her cold, ruthless captain of a father wrapped around her stubby little finger since the moment you pushed her out of your womb. You could hear the way he promised to give her anything her little heart desired and often you found yourself being more strict with her. 

Though, this had been Levi's one fear. 

Levi has seen countless people fall beyond the walls. He's witnessed Farlan and Isabel (his daughter's namesake) tragically torn to pieces by those wandering monsters. He’s seen countless bodies piled up in wagons to return to the walls for burning. 

You’ve seen your fair share of horrors, too. You’ve seen the injuries people walk into your clinic with, the blood gushing through gaping wounds, their bones snapped in angles they shouldn't, the limbs you've had to amputate; and the sheer image of your daughter being one of them was enough for you to turn green with sickness. 

There were countless arguments between Levi and Isabel (you often found yourself the mediator of these fights and cursing the fates for making both father and daughter stubborn as mules). But ultimately, Levi had caved as he always did, and promised to train her harder than anyone else in the training corps.

True to his word, Isabel often returned home with bruises and collapsed next to you on the couch, her head falling into your lap with fatigue. You smiled as you ran your fingers through her hair as she tiredly recounted her training with her father and other members of the Training Corps. 

She had recounted many stories of the friends she’s made there; an arrogant boy named Jean who she loved to tease and roughhouse with, a boy with a buzzcut named Connie she liked to mess around with and prank occasionally, and a girl named Sasha. 

The dusty pink on her cheeks when she told you stories about her sprouted an inkling inside of you that made you think she was more than just a friend to your daughter. You only smiled as she went on. 

Though, late at night, when your husband had long ago fallen asleep and your daughter was tucked safely away in her room, did you find yourself praying to the Fates. You prayed no arm would come to your daughter and she would lead the happy life she deserved. You prayed the Fates were kind.  

Perhaps . . . the Fates weren't kind . . .  

Levi should have known the fates hadn't meant to give him a life as peaceful as his (or as peaceful as it could be with you and Isabel by his side). He should have known better than to think the Fates were righteous.  

Afterall, the goddess Atropos always came to collect what was due. Atropos was the third and final Fate, the goddess who cut the threads her sisters weaved and toyed with. She was the one who claimed souls. Atropos watched time and time again as Levi avoided her attempts to collect his thread and grew frustrated the more he slipped through her fingers like sand. So, Atropos did the next best thing. 

She stole a life close to him. 

Levi could feel his blood run cold when Jean walked in, his hands fisting the shirts of two children and his eyes wild with shock. His words were shaky and his eyes were covered in a daze of denial, as if his mind was trying to protect him from the inevitable heartbreak he would experience. 

Levi waited with a bated breath for Jean to crack a smile and admit this was all some sick joke he could punish him later for. That his whole thing was nothing but a nightmare and he was bak at home, cuddled in bed with you and your daughter was sleeping soundly in her room just down the hall. 

But he knew it wasn't a dream, not when you gasped as you did, when he could practically see your heart shattering in your eyes and the way you nearly pushed him to the floor as you ran to the back of the airship. Levi followed close. 

"ISABEL!" 

You had practically thrown Connie to the side to get to your daughter. Her eyes were hazy with the same veil of death you had seen time and time again with your patients and friends. Sasha stood still to the side, her eyes wide and her hands shaking, “should have been me, it should have been me.” She chanted the words like a spell that would somehow transfer the wound to her, a spell that would miraculously heal your daughter who lay on the cold hard floor of the airship, blood slowly seeping out of her. 

The logical medic in your brain delivered you the harsh truth as you assessed your daughter and her wounds. The unforgiving voice hissed in your ear about her inevitable death, the wound is too fatal, there’s no way she’ll make it back to the island. You hushed the voice as quick as it spoke, your heart denying the severity of the situation. 

"oh," Levi could only watch as you clutched onto Isabel, your hands working like clockwork as they put pressure on her wound despite the violent shake in them, "oh, my baby..." 

Levi took a hesitant step closer. It was haunting, watching his daughter who held so many of his qualities lay on the floor, bleeding to death. He had remembered the many times she pulled his hair as a child, giggling loudly as she pointed out the obvious, ‘I’m just like you, daddy!’ 

Oh, how he wished he could go back to those moments. When his daughter was nothing but a small child he cradled in his arms, tucking her safely under his chin as he gently rocked her side to side to lully her back into a deep sleep. He wished to go back to the nights he held your hair back as your stomach churned with nausea and your daughter was but a growing fetus, protected within the walls of your womb. 

"M . . . mommy . . .” Isabel breathed. 

You sobbed harder, "it's okay baby, i'm here, mommy's here." 

You ran your fingers through her hair, hushed her and soothing her as you once did many years ago when she was nothing but a small baby clutching onto the material of your dress. 

She had been so tiny then, so fragile and sweet and innocent. But she had long since grown out of her baby face and matured into a strong woman you were proud to have nurtured. But in this moment, it was as if she returned to the same fragile baby as she was years ago as she clutched onto the straps of your gear like a lifeline, her eyes dull but full of fear and hesitance.

"Mommy please, i'm- s' scared . . ." her voice was breathy and you could see the energy drain from her eyes the harder she tried to keep them open.

You wanted to be selfish, to tell her to keep her eyes open, to keep breathing and push through the pain. But you could see the pain flash in her eyes each time she took a breath, you could hear her breathy wince with every movement she made, and you knew you couldn’t be selfish. 

Levi could see your resolve slowly crumble, the way the shake in your hands grew more and more violent and he could practically see the screams bubble in your throat as you tried to swallow them down to comfort your daughter. Levi knew if he didn't step in now, there would be no salvaging the broken pieces of you after this. 

"It’s okay, princess." Levi crouched down on the other side of his daughter, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he tried to keep his composure. 

Her head slowly turned to him, "d-daddy . . . ?" 

Levi hummed, "Yeah, it's me princess. It’s okay, you did so well, you were so brave." 

"I was?" her words were breathy and rushed as she tried to cling on to the last threads of her life. You could feel her grip in your gear lose its strength and you nearly let the screams clawing at your throat escape. 

pleasepleasepleaseplease, you begged, not her please not my baby. 

"So brave." 

Levi had never felt so helpless watching his daughter's eyes lose their life, he could only sit there and reassure her that everything would be fine and she had done good as she took her last breaths. Images of the other Isabel laying dead on the floor flashed through his mind and Levi nearly vomited. 

"I love you" 

Levi nodded, "I know. I love you too, princess. Now rest." 

The winds howled loudly outside, but there was nothing loud enough to drown out the screams that had finally escaped from you as you gripped your daughter’s hand so tight your knuckles turned white. Levi held you close as tears of his own dripped down his face and an indescribable weight placed itself in his heart.  

The Fates were not kind. 

Life after that seemed to lose its shine. 

Your home was hauntinly quiet. Every inch of the home had memories of your daughter carved into the wooden frame. Her first words, her first steps, her first breath. You had given birth to your daughter in the living room, and where the walls once gave you comfort and warmed your heart with reminders of the first life you had brought into the world, it now made you sick with grief and added to the weight in your heart. She had taken her first steps in the hallways, clutching your fingers tight as you guided her down the hall to Levi who waited for her with a proud smile. Her first words had been in the kitchen, where you and Levi cooked dinner for your quaint little family and she called out to the two of you, begging for attention. And who was Levi to deny his princess? 

You and Levi struggled to find your places in the world after that. Late at night, the two of you often clung to each other for comfort. Though, you knew Isabel’s death was hitting Levi harder than you. You could see it in the way he tucked her Scout badge into the left breast pocket of his shirts, hoping to keep the memory of her close to his heart; the way he avoided every mirror like it was the plague. You could see it in the way he flinched whenever he caught sight of his reflection, his own steel grey eyes and matted black hair staring hauntingly back at him. 

Isabel had taken after her father the most, afterall. 

You also found Levi’s features a bit hard to look at after that. It was hard to look into his eyes and see your daughter staring right back at you with a pleading look to not leave. There had been late night conversations where Levi assured you he knew of his similarities to Isabel and promised to not be mad if you wanted to leave him, 'I find it hard to look at myself sometimes.'

But you only held him tighter and stuck closer to his side, washing away any thoughts he had of you leaving him. You married him because you loved him, and nothing could change that. Even if he looked so similar to your lost daughter. 

The Fates also decided to make your lives a bit harder, as if taking away your first born hadn’t been enough suffering to put you both through. Levi had been sent away with Zeke into hiding. Initially, you wanted to go with him, to stick by his side and cling to your life support, but the others hadn’t allowed it. 

Hango could only grip your wrist tight as you watched Levi climb into the carriage and ride away. 

You begged Hange not to leave you alone after that; because you knew if you were left alone for long enough, there would be nothing stopping you from joining your daughter in the afterlife. 

Hange stayed by your side. 

You wanted to vomit. 

You could feel the sickening churn in your stomach as you stared down at the very girl who had stolen the life from your daughter. The images of your daughter clutching on to you tightly and her scared voice begging you to comfort her rang loud in your ears. Your mouth had dried instantly, any one of the thousand of words rattling in your head stopped by the numbness in your mouth. There were so many things you wanted to say, so many words you wanted to exchange with the girl who had taken your child from you. 

You could see Nicolo’s mouth move and his adam's apple bob with every sound he made, but it was all muffled whitenoise as your eyes trained onto the little girl who stared up at you with a look of horror and fear. 

“ . . . kill her,” Nicolo’s voice buzzed in your ears. 

You hadn’t even realised you took the knife from his hands until you heard Hange speak up from behind you. She begged you to put the knife down, to think rationally. 

But how could you? How could your mind think of anything other than harming the girl who was the cause of all your pain? When the girl who murdered your daughter was right in front of you, sitting on her knees, vulnerable. Your heart screamed and thrashed against the veins that held it in place for you to stab her, to make her feel the same pain your baby had to go through. 

But then she looked up at you. Her eyes were wide with the same fear and pleading look your daughter had in her final moments. You dropped the knife, your shoulders shaking as your eyes lined with unshed tears. 

“Kill a child. . . you- you want me to kill a child. . .” Armin stared at you from the side as your shoulders sagged and a few tears escaped your eyes, and he couldn’t help but realize how tired you looked. As if the weight the world had placed on your shoulders was finally catching up to you and your body struggled to carry it any longer. 

“I can’t do that. She’s a child. Someone’s daughter.” You collapsed to the floor, your hands digging to the carpet underneath you, “I can’t kill a child, not while I know what it feels like to lose your own. I can’t put another mother through the same pain I’m in. I just- can’t.” 

Hange kneeled next to you and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, her lips pressed into a thin line and sympathy swimming in her eyes for her friend who had lost her world. You looked back up to Gabi and she nearly flinched with how broken and tired your eyes looked, “I can only hope she’s found peace in the afterlife. . . 

“I can only hope the Goddesses of Fate are kind to her soul.”  

[ttuesday]

We just lost a family member. It was my uncle, it’s so sudden it kinda got me thinking while trying to escape reality for a bit:

What would the gang be like during crisis mode? Between the inconsolable sorrow and the desire for someone to pay. It can teeter between rage, survivors guilt, sorrow and all the other emotions that come with being numb from loss.

Especially Arthur mostly because someone needs to get got for causing such damage to the gang, and I know he says vengeance is a fools game but for his S/O I think he’d go John-Fucking-Wick on someone.

I’m also thinking Dutch, Javier, Charles and Hosea (he’s interesting bc he’s survived this long for a damn reason). And SADIE.

yo I know you know this already but if you need anything I'm always here <3 I hope these headcanons are good!

Arthur

Arthur's in shock. He knows what life as an outlaw is like, he's witnessed many deaths and destruction yet it's something he can never get used to.

His main priority is making sure you're ok. Seeing you upset makes him panic and he blames himself. Arthur won't stop going through different scenarios in his head where everything might've worked out ok.

He knows revenge is bad but knowing how this has impacted you and his own mixed feelings of regret and guilt pushes him over the edge.

Arthur packs his satchel full of everything he needs, loads up his guns and gets ready to track down whatever motherfucker that has caused this. You wake up just before he leaves your shared tent. You know what his plan is just from looking at him. Maybe you'll stop him or maybe you'll go with him, that's your decision.

Dutch

Dutch always tells the gang that revenge is a fool's game. It's a motto he's learned to live by but when business gets personal, Dutch can be quite the hypocrite.

Dutch knows that killing whoever caused this will bring you and everyone else the closure ye need but it isn't that simple. In one way, Dutch feels as though the world around him is caving in.

He spends the next few days alone in his tent. The only thing he's focused on now is finding an excuse to kill this person. Maybe the killer was also paying off the Pinkertons or maybe they're gonna be on a high society train that ye could rob.

Dutch knows he's going to kill them but now he has to make up a reason why that will align with his twisted morality.

Javier

Javier is confused. How could this happen? Why did this happen? It's like the entire gang is asking these questions yet no one can come up with an answer.

When Javier first heard about what happened, you were the first person he thought of. He didn't care how far away you were, he needed to go and see you. Maybe if he was fast enough then he could be the one to break the news to you.

He didn't say much when he saw you. Javier simply sighed in defeat as he wrapped his arms around you. He guided you over to a quiet spot and sat with you for as long as you needed.

Javier knows that if he’s determined on getting revenge, that could take months or maybe even years. But right now, revenge doesn't matter. The only thing he cares about now is you.

Charles

Things like this normally doesn't impact Charles that much, he knows that he has to accept it. But it's different when you’re involved. Charles wants you to be happy and to have a good life, not deal with grief and disaster.

Before you can even think about what's after happening, Charles is swiftly by your side and comforting you. Charles doesn't care about his own emotions, in all honestly he felt numb after hearing about what happened so instead he focuses on you.

Every morning Charles takes you out hunting so you can vent and express all the different emotions you're feeling without the whole gang listening in.

Sometimes when he's lying in bed at night, Charles wonders if he should try to get some kind of vengeance but he doesn't know if he can. That's something he'll only be able to figure out when he's face to face with the person responsible for all this sorrow.

Hosea

Hosea knows all the current emotions you're feeling. Denial, guilt, helplessness, sadness and maybe you might feel nothing at all.

At some point in his life, Hosea’s felt the same way so he knows how to help you through this.

But Hosea is quick to tell you that the best thing you can do is move on. If you go get revenge then that will only result in more pain and death. Life is hard, cruel and relentless, and the best thing we can do is try to keep up with it's constant punches.

Hosea will try his absolute best in helping you overcome all these different emotions but he thinks revenge is pointless and so that's one thing he can't help you with.

Sadie

Sadie's been where you are. She unfortunately knows a lot about grief. However you react to the news, Sadie stands by your side.

If you’re angry and lash out, she’s there for you. If you’re sad and need a shoulder to cry on, she’s there for you. If you need someone to tuck you into your goddamn bed at night, then hell, Sadie will do that too.

Sadie is all for revenge. She knows revenge is bad but sometimes that doesn’t matter and what’s important is getting closure. Not only that but she thinks revenge might be a good motivator to help you get back on your feet.

But right now she knows that you’re not ready to get revenge. The situation is too fresh. Sadie knows that the best thing to do now is help you through the grief and help you practice for when you finally kill the son of a bitch that’s responsible for this.

[antebunny]

April 30: rebirth

(Also called Bargaining–idea is taken from an old Loki fic with the same time travel premise).

When Jiang Yanli dies, Wei Wuxian goes into denial and just runs from Nightless City. He goes back to the Burial Mounds and feverishly works on a time travel array. Within the month he completes it and prepares to travel back in time, but there’s a catch. He first activates the array and then spends the next several hours going through the ritual, while outside the Siege of the Burial Mounds begins. The Wens know what Wei Wuxian is up to so they understand why he’s not bothering to protect them. He completes the ritual just as Jiang Cheng and Lan Zhan burst into the cave. They’re both there, at the front, in order to protect Wei Wuxian, but by the time they arrive it’s too late: the array is fading and Wei Wuxian is already dead. He barely sees them in the entrance when he dies, which leads him to (logical) conclusion that they’re there to kill him.

Here’s the catch: Wei Wuxian gets to go back, rewrite time, and change things. He decides to go back to the day before he got kicked out of the Cloud Recesses. But when time finally arrives at the time he activates the array, everyone gets their memories back. Although a lot of people will remember dying, it’s preferable to actually dying. Then Wei Wuxian has to conduct the ritual again, to ensure that this is the future that stays, and seal the deal with his own life. Basically, in order to change the future Wei Wuxian has to die. And obviously because he's Wei Wuxian, he decides that that’s okay so long as everyone gets to live.

So Wei Wuxian comes back to life with a golden core and cries for a solid minute, scaring tf out of Jiang Cheng, before he gets a grip. Then he proceeds to yell at Jin Zixuan, not get kicked out, and live life like everything’s normal. He enjoys the next six months of peace, and then he gets to work. Once the year is over, he goes on a very long night hunting trip, kills the Xuanwu of Slaughter, and sets up the cave for use. A year later and they’re at the archery competition, where Wei Wuxian still places first, meets Wen Ning again, and doesn’t pull off Lan Zhan’s forehead ribbon.

Then Wen Ruohan is ~mysteriously~ assassinated and the Wens declare war on all the sects in revenge. When the Wens come for Lotus Pier, there’s no personal vendetta, and Wei Wuxian hides in the shadows and drowns all of them. Then he pretends that he got knocked out and was unconscious somewhere hidden from the main battle where Jiang Cheng finds him. They win the war, and Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan are still alive and bickering with each other, the Jiang sect is still strong, etc. etc. Wei Wuxian personally hunts down Wen Zhuliu early in the war, before he can cause any damage. Then he also kills Jin Guangshan, blames it on the Wens (does it make sense? No. does anyone care? No) and Jin Zixuan commits fully to the war. Jin Zixuan learns to appreciate Jiang Yanli during the war, and since they’re already engaged they get married soon afterwards. Jin Guangyao gets taken in as Jin Zixuan’s younger brother, and since Jin Zixuan is a decent person who doesn’t want him to commit crimes but also needs Help, it goes a lot better. Meanwhile Wei Wuxian finds the DafanWen and they move to the Xuanwu cave, which Wei Wuxian has prepared. Also the carcass of the tortoise should scare anyone away.

Wei Wuxian sticks around to see his sister get married, takes Lan Zhan on a tour of Lotus Pier, at the end of which Lan Zhan proposes. Wei Wuxian is confused but figures that Lan Wangji must like this version of him that hasn’t used resentful energy as far as Lan Wangji knows or recused the Wens as far as he knows, or done any of the things that Other Lan Zhan hated him for. The Wens ask him to adopt A-Yuan, which he does after talking about it with Lan Zhan and after they get married. So now Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji are married and they have an adopted child. That part was all the fluff and fix-it, cue the angst. The date of Wei Wuxian’s death draws near, and Wei Wuxian starts getting moody and antsy, starts drinking. Yu Ziyuan yells at him, of course, and everyone else worries over him. It is during one of these blackout drunk sessions that Wei Wuxian tells Lan Wangji that he fully expects Lan Wangji to regret marrying him in the future. Lan Wangji swears up and down that he won’t, and Wei Wuxian kinda critiques himself and calls himself selfish, for marrying Lan Wangji and raising a kid when he knows it’s not going to last.

Basically Wei Wuxian starts getting skittish and disappears for periods of time to the Burial Mounds, where he acquires enough injuries that Lan Wangji suspects that someone is hurting him, which Wei Wuxian vehemently denies, but Lan Wangji is still Onto him. He goes to Jiang Yanli, who says that Wei Wuxian has been acting differently ever since he came back from the Cloud Recesses, seemed to know things that were going to happen before they did, disappears at odd times and incidents that occur when Wei Wuxian is missing, and they get Jiang Cheng, who recalls that one time Wei Wuxian woke up in the middle of the night and just bawled, and after that didn’t lose his temper on Jin Zixuan, pulled back on his most crazy antics.

Still, none of them suspect the exact day, so on that day, Wei Wuxian gets up, tells Lan Wangji he’s going to train the Jiang juniors, and then just…disappears. Night comes and Lan Wangji is already worried, according to the juniors he never showed. Yu Ziyuan accuses him of slacking, but then Lan Wangji barges in crying, holding a note. In it, Wei Wuxian doesn’t tell him about the time travel, but says that Wei Wuxian is going forever, and Lan Wangji will understand why tomorrow. He understands that it’s too much to wish for that Lan Wangji won’t hate him, after how selfish he’s been and what a terrible person he’s been, marrying Lan Wangji and pretending it can last, but he hopes Lan Wangji can still look back and remember him fondly in the future. He apologizes again and tells Lan Wangji again that he didn’t mean to tarnish Lan Wangji’s reputation or saddle him with a child, but A-Yuan is here now and he knows Lan Wangji loves A-Yuan. He leaves a similar cryptic note for Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, apologizing to all of them for things they don’t understand.

Lan Zhan immediately begins searching for him all through the night, and then in the morning everyone blacks out and suddenly has memories of a different past couple of years, for most people starting with Wen Ruohan getting assassinated. People don’t immediately suspect the Yiling Patriarch, because they think he was simply never created in this timeline, and lives as Head Disciple Jiang and Lan Wangji’s husband, but Wei Wuxian’s family know better. They immediately rush to the Burial Mounds, and find it guarded by corpses. Inside the cave, Wei Wuxian begins conducting the ritual, also crying because he really had a happy life this time and he really really doesn’t want to go, but he can’t bear to revert to the original timeline, not when everyone is still alive here, so he continues. Yu Ziyuan and Jiang Fengmian find out about the whole yiling patriarch thing and jiang yanli is just like…i don’t care. Jin Guangshan is dead and can’t care, Jin Guangyao doesn’t have a vendetta, Jin Zixuan does what his wife says, and Jiang Yanli is alive so Jiang Cheng has no beef, plus he sees the lengths Wei Wuxian went through to save everyone. He also understands the letter now, then he and Jiang Yanli confront Lan Wangji like…do you no longer love him? Lan Wangji of course reacts poorly to this accusation and denies it. They leave A-Yuan behind and go to the Mounds with the intention of convincing Wei Wuxian that he doesn’t have to run away and they want him back.

They arrive in the cave just as Wei Wuxian is finishing with the ritual. But of course, parallels, Wei Wuxian looks up to see them standing in the entrance of the cave and thinks that they’re there to kill him, but also can see how distressed Lan Wangji looks and attempts to reassure him that he doesn’t have to kill Wei Wuxian! You know, his husband in this timeline! Because Wei Wuxian will do it himself! Wei Wuxian makes them fight some corpses while he rushes to finish the ritual, because they seem keen on stopping him (“i know you disapprove of demonic cultivation but this is the only way to save everyone”). Lan Wangji tackles him away from his ceremonial knife, and Wei Wuxian fights back (still has golden core!) they both fight desperately (“i have to do it myself Lan Zhan, otherwise I would let you do it”) over the knife. Jiang Cheng insists that there must be another solution, bc he doesn’t want Jiang Yanli to die. Then Wen Qing and Wen Ning walk into the cave, and Wen Qing like the genius she is, proposes the Alternate Solution. (What is it? Idk. just a magic solution in which Wei Wuxian doesn’t have to die). Wei Wuxian pauses in the middle of fighting Lan Wangji (“i don’t have to die?” he asks while Lan Wangji is busy shattering the knife and then he and Jiang Cheng pin him down so he can stop trying to kill himself in front of them. “Nope,” says Wen Qing, the only person with brains here). So Wei Wuxian sits on the floor of the cave, tied with deity-binding thread (Wei Wuxian: let me go Lan Wangji: not until you promise to go with wen qing’s version of the ritual Jiang Cheng: unless…do you want to leave? Wei Wuxian: no!) (What’s the solution? Maybe all of them sacrifice something important to them, maybe they just…all use their power to BS their way through a solution? Again, I don’t know).

So Lan Wangji unties Wei Wuxian and they hug and kiss and they all head back to Lotus Pier, where they eat a celebratory dinner, and reunite with A-Yuan, and Wei Wuxian celebrates the fact that he can live this happy life and not owe the world anything/need to go through the ritual.

The End!

[stars-are-just-ghosts]

16th prompt for harrisco 'cause we'd love a fixit <3

So this isn't a fixit, simply because (and I may be alone in thinking this) the mess that the show made out of the Wells' still makes me kind of furious. It's such a nuclear disaster. I try to pretend (okay I do pretend) that it never happened. I live in complete denial when it comes to that debacle. (That aside, Nash is one of my favorite Wells, so he gets a free pass.) I do hope you like this anyway, as I love to write angsty stuff. Be safe! -QD * * *

Cisco's ears were ringing, a chorus of bells and chimes and cymbals rampaging in his eardrums that made him nauseous and far too dizzy. He coughed against the dust that had begun to settle around him like a cloud of gray and forced his eyes to blink, tearing up against the particles that assaulted his vision.

It took far too long for his sight to clear, for actual sound to process, and not chaotic trilling. And when everything finally came into view, all he could think to do was stare. Jitters was more than a mess. It was just... not Jitters anymore. What the hell happened?! He tried to remember... They hadn't had any meta mayhem in over a week, which resulted in him and Harry working non stop on all their pushed-back projects just so they could have something to do. It was the most fun Cisco'd had in a while. He'd always loved working side by side with the genius of a man, but if he was being honest... well, it was more than that now. It had been for almost a year.

Realizing he was falling for the tall, hot-headed, grumpy scientist hadn't had any fanfare. It hadn't startled him. It had, in fact, been the most comforting realization Cisco had ever had. Because it made sense. To him, anyway. Because Cisco had learned to see all the incredible stuff beneath the dense layer of sarcasm and self-loathing Harry had built up over the years. And the more he saw, the more he experienced, had resulted in Cisco head-over-heels before he had the sense to stop it. Not that he would if he'd known.

Lately, he'd been trying to come up with the courage to tell Harry. But the idea that Harry would reject him, that they'd lose the far-too important friendship they'd built, was far too prevalent in Cisco's mind.

It didn't stop him from daydreaming, though. Something he was doing just moments ago, staring at Harry's far too alluring lips as the taller man stirred his coffee while he went on and on about the updates they were doing on the satellites. They'd stopped at Jitters for a night-time pick-me-up. It was almost closing time, and Nancy, a barista, was the only person behind the counter. There weren't any customers. There was some sort of pop music playing softly through the speakers. And Cisco took the quiet and emptiness as permission to just let his thoughts drift. He pictured himself just moving in, capturing Harry's damn delicious lips with his own.

And then...

There had definitely been an explosion. It was all that made sense.

Cisco pushed himself up, a piece of the counter sliding off his stomach as he shoved it out of the way and coughed. He let his eyes wander. Tried to push through the strange daze in his brain. He needed to take stock of the situation. Needed to make sure that Harry was... "Harry?" he croaked out quickly, blinking as he pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly amongst the debris. He could hear water rushing somewhere, the sounds of sparks crackling from a broken and hanging light, the crunch of debris settling.

There was an enormous caved-in sort of hole where the kitchen had been. He could see Nancy, shocked and shaking, picking her way through the debris and toward the shattered doors. She looked as stunned as he felt. And Harry... where was he?! Cisco stepped forward. They'd been standing right next to each other. He couldn't be far, right?!

"Harry!" He called out much louder, looking around. He began to toss pieces of wood aside. A chair. A half-split table. Panic began to settle in. There was a strange sinking feeling in his chest. Because he couldn't lose Harry.

Harry was his cornerstone, the most important reason he got up in the morning, the most constant tangible presence in his life. And maybe Cisco had become too accustomed to their daily antics and bickering. Maybe he had become too familiar with the numerous little kindnesses that Harry showered him in. Maybe he had become too addicted to the touches in passing, their combined laughter, the effortless way Harry just took Cisco's depression and anxiety and transformed it all into happiness...

Cisco froze in place when he saw a boot.

No... not a boot.

Harry's boot!

He rushed forward, yanking aside a tall tea rack and a piece of drywall, revealing Harry's still form covered in dust and dirt. The left side of Harry's face was caked in dusty blood that had pooled from a gash above his brow. The gray shirt Harry wore was stained along the ribs with something dark that Cisco knew wasn't coffee. It made his whole body buzz with terror, made him drop to his knees and freeze in place. He focused on Harry's chest, willing him to breathe... just fucking breathe!

He half registered the sounds of sirens in the distance, could hear a murmur of voices outside the shattered windows, mingling with all the other unsettling sounds around him. "Harry, please..." His voice cracked, tears unnoticed as they rolled down his dusty cheeks. He moved a hand toward Harry's chest. But just before he put his palm down, Harry's whole body jerked and the tall man coughed, turning slightly sideways. It startled Cisco so badly, he fell backward into the tea rack he'd pulled off of him.

"Holycrap!" He blurted out quickly. Then he scooted back toward Harry as he coughed, a hand coming up to his head, the tall man wincing slightly. "Don't do that to me!" Cisco fought the urge to smack him and chose to help him sit up instead. "I... I thought you were dead." Cisco half-whispered. Harry blinked heavily, looking around at their surroundings, leaning his torso into Cisco as he let his hand fall.

"Ramon." He said gratingly, eyes coming back to Cisco's face. Harry took in the sight of him quickly, eyes roaming at the wet streaks on his cheeks before holding his gaze. "What happened? Are you alright?!" Before he could answer, Harry had simply reached up and cupped Cisco's face, a thumb smoothing through the wetness. And Cisco lost any words he'd been planning to say. Because he'd seen a lot of sides to Harry. Seen all the hidden things that no one else seemed to notice. But he'd never, not once, seen Harry look at him like that.

It was at that moment that Barry showed up. Everything moved quickly after that. Ambulances and fire trucks and police cars. Barry got Cisco and Harry back to the labs. The explosion was caused by a gas leak in the store connected to Jitters. Both places were a loss. Thankfully, no one had died. Nancy barely had a scratch on her because she'd been inside a walk-in freezer when it happened. Cisco had a hell of a bruise on his back, about the size of a basketball, a few cuts, and had needed stitches on his thigh. Harry had a concussion. Caitlin swore it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He also needed stitches on his ribs, the cut there almost a foot long. It all could have been so much worse. A thought that was sticking with Cisco as the minutes ticked by.

It was nearly three in the morning by the time Caitlin and Barry cleared out. They had both offered to drive Cisco home, but he didn't want to leave. Not yet. He was watching Harry stiffly put a shirt on in the medlab. That sinking feeling in Cisco's chest hadn't left. How many times had he come that close to losing Harry? And how much longer was he going to be a chicken about telling Harry the truth?

Harry turned his ocean blue eyes on Cisco and paused before pulling the black S.T.A.R. Labs t-shirt completely in place. Then he wandered over to where Cisco was leaning against the doorway of the medlab. And just like that, he was touching Cisco's face again. His palm smoothed over his skin, his fingers slipped into the dark strands of his hair. And Harry shook his head.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly, eyes dancing between his own. Cisco didn't know what to say at first. He was too busy reveling in the feel of Harry's warm and large hand on him. But then he cleared his throat and reached up, wrapping his fingers around Harry's wrist.

"No." He managed, pulling Harry's hand down. But... he held onto it, in both of his own, looking down at Harry's long fingers, running a thumb over his knuckles. Two of them were slightly bruised. "I need to tell you something." He didn't dare look back up at him. He would never be able to get this out if he did. "I haven't said anything because I was afraid of what might happen if things changed. I didn't want to lose our friendship because it just means... it's everything, man. I can't... I couldn't take the risk. But I saw you lying there bleeding and unconscious and... I thought... you looked dead. And I couldn't process that. I couldn't picture existence without you in it. Because I'm... I..." Fuck, why couldn't he just say it? He was a big boy. He could enunciate words properly. He could make his thoughts known. Right? But then Harry lifted his other hand, hooked a finger beneath Cisco's chin, and gently urged him to look up.

And what he saw...

Harry was smiling. It was the most tender thing he'd ever seen on the other man's face. And it made all his anxiety flee in a heartbeat.

"I love you, too, Cisco." Harry said so simply, it made Cisco blink. "I value our friendship. More than nearly anything else. It's why I never said anything, like you." He stepped closer, pulling his hand out of Cisco's hold and holding both sides of Cisco's face. "But if it's a choice between telling you how I feel, and the possibility that one of us could die without the words ever having been said," he shrugged, "Then I'd rather you know just... how much... I love you." Harry's voice cracked slightly, his eyes growing wet. Cisco let out a sound, feeling his own eyes burn.

All he could think to do was move into him, to let Harry wrap those safe arms of his completely around him. He breathed in the smell of Harry's aftershave and the lingering scent of smoke and dust. He curled his hands into the fresh t-shirt and let out an enormous breath, letting all that fear and worry out with it. For a few, blissful, long moments, Harry just held him.

"This is not how I thought I'd tell you." Harry said gently, soft humor in his tone. Cisco chuckled and lifted his head, meeting Harry's sparkling gaze.

"Me, neither. Though it's not like anyone plans on having their coffee date go up in flames." He watched Harry raise a brow.

"Date?" Harry asked, eyes roaming along Cisco's features again.

"Okay, so... maybe I tend to think of everything we do together outside of work as a sort of date. It's pitiful, but it's kind of how I, uh..." He cleared his throat, shrugging a shoulder, "It kept me going, got me out of my head. Since I couldn't actually get the words out." Harry smiled, warm and bright.

"And now that we've gotten the words out?" He asked, bringing his face a little closer. "If I kissed you right now, what would you consider that?" Cisco's brows shot up and his eyes darted directly to Harry's mouth.

"Oh, that... that's definitely not a date. That's more like... we've been established for a while now, and I want some damn affection from my better half." He smiled, hearing Harry chuckle.

"As you wish." Harry winked knowingly, and before Cisco could dare ask how Harry knew about Princess Bride, the taller man had closed what little distance there was left, his lips sliding along Cisco's in a brilliantly soft and tender press.

He'd always pictured Harry to be a pushy kisser. But... he was sooo wrong about that. Because Harry was eager, but he was also so goddamn patient. He let Cisco lead the way, let him decide when it got deeper, and how deep. Harry tasted like dark coffee, and he was pretty damn exceptional with that tongue of his. And the longer the kiss went on, Cisco was glad his daydreams were nothing like reality.

He also had a feeling that the friendship they'd cultivated wasn't going anywhere. In fact, it was just evolving into something far more concrete. Something permanent. Something they didn't need to hide from each other, or anyone else.

Their soreness and exhaustion took over at one point. But Cisco still didn't go home. Instead, he curled up in Harry's bed with him and they talked till even their mouths were too tired to keep going. It was so easy, nothing felt awkward about it. Harry held him as Cisco happily played little spoon, and not a moment of it was uncomfortable. It didn't take long for either one of them to pass out.

The next day, they were still asleep by the time Caitlin came back. She'd gone in search of Harry, wanting to check on him, figuring Cisco was at home. But what she found was the two men very asleep and completely tangled with each other.

"It's about time." She whispered with a smile before closing the door to Harry's room. They had a busy day ahead of them. But there was no harm in letting them sleep a little while longer. They deserved the rest. And each other.

About time, indeed.

[just-jordie-things]

Hey! Can you do 36 and/or 41 for zuko?

prompt 36: “we can never be together” kiss prompt 41: forbidden kiss fuck y’all know i love angst lets do this ___

Your whole life, you’d been nothing but loyal.  As a servant, that was technically the point, but you’d done far more than anyone before you.

You were assigned to the Fire Prince at a young age, too young in your opinion, but you'd been grateful for it.  Because you were only children, you didn’t know any better, and became fast friends.  Of course, he would still ask things of you, if there was laundry to be done, or if he was craving a snack, he asked you, but you’d never minded.  Because he was kind.  Some days, he even asked you to show him how you would do basic chores.  He didn’t really take an interest in them, but he’d always had an interest in you.

As you got older, that friendship blossomed into something more, and suddenly you were in a tricky situation in that you were infatuated with the prince.  He was one of the few people, besides his mother, who showed you nothing but compassion, and it was just too easy to fall for him.  He must have known, you don’t know how he couldn’t.

Your touches lingered, he’d take your hand in his arm as you walked through the gardens, and you’d carefully take the time to adjust the wrinkles in his clothes or the stray hairs out of place to make sure he was always presentable.  And then there was the cheek kissing, in parting one of you would always kiss the other’s cheek.

In your defense, it was never one sided.

When the fateful day of his banishment came, you were there, for every minute.  From the Agni Kai- where you’d sobbed into Iroh’s arms, the old man trying to keep you quiet as not to draw attention to your improper outburst- to the ship that would take him far away from the place you’d called home.

The day you’d gotten on that ship, he’d demanded that you stay, that it wasn’t safe for you to join him on such a long and likely difficult journey.  But you’d reminded him that it was your duty to serve his every need, and that you would never let him go on his own.

You promised to stay by his side, no matter what.

You’d said those words.

A lot had changed since that day three years ago.

You’d grown, in every sense of the word.  You matured, and developed a mind of your own, one that wasn't shaped and sculpted by the Fire Nation’s perfectionist ideals.

Ba Sing Se is what truly changed you.  Living an ordinary life, meeting the most interesting people, merchants, travelers, performers, artists- you fell a little bit in love with anyone who told you their life story, no matter how mundane it was.

The banished prince tried to understand it, and maybe he did for a period of time, but he’d changed too.  You could never quite tell if it was for the better or worse.

Now, standing before the Avatar’s lifeless body, and the young waterbender who held him in her arms, sobbing, you knew that the prince you’d once loved hadn't changed at all.

Because he’d always been this way.  He was always cruel behind closed doors, you had simply been an exception to the rule.  That sentiment provided you no warmth, and as you defended his sworn enemy now, he knew it.

“Zuzu, tell your pet to get out of the way,” The princess spoke threateningly, not even addressing you as she pointed her hand menacingly towards you, ready to strike you with lightning if it meant taking care of the Avatar.  “Or else she’ll have a matching mark on her face”

It was cruel, so cruel, and you wondered how he could just stand there and let her say something so terrible.

“(y/n), come on, don’t do this,” Zuko said to you, in complete denial about what it meant that you were protecting the Avatar.  “Let’s go home” 

You shook your head, speechless as your eyes flickered between Zuko and Azula.

Eventually they landed on Iroh, who was in earth-made handcuffs from the Dai Li, and he gave you a small smile.

Acceptance.  Encouragement.

He was prompting you to do what you’d planned when you’d first leapt in front of Aang and Katara- two people you didn’t know, you’d never met, but you trusted.

You trusted them more than the boy you’d loved your whole life.

“No” You said, your voice steadier than ever.

Zuko blinked, and reeled for a moment.  You’d never said that to him before, and he couldn’t believe the weight of what was happening.

“(y/n),” He repeated your name, his brows drawing together.  “Just... come home with me” 

He held his hand out to you, but you shuffled back towards the Avatar.

“No,” You repeated.  “I won’t.  I’m staying.  I’m going with them” 

You turned around, your eyes meeting those of the crying waterbender.  She looked surprised, but was too busy trying to heal the Avatar to say or do anything.

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Zuko stormed towards you, but you didn’t even flinch.  “If you choose this now, there’s no going back!” 

“I know,” You whisper back to him.  “And I won’t,” 

He shakes his head, and you can see his eyes glossing over as he tried to keep his conflict to himself.  You knew why he was struggling, and so did he, but he would never admit it.  Not now that you’d betrayed him, and not with his sister present.

“I can’t stay with you,” You said, your voice cracking as tears of your own rise up to your eyes.  “Not like this.  Not when I- I don’t recognize you,” 

A tear slips down your cheek as you gesture vaguely at him.

“I don’t even know who you are” You whimper.

Zuko’s taken aback by this, and he wants to reach out to you.  He wants to hold you and dry your tears and tell you that he’s yours, he always has been, and you don’t have to leave him.

But you’re afraid of him now.  He can see it in your eyes, and he can hear it in the way your voice shakes.  

You want nothing to do with him.

“(y/n), I can’t go without you, I- I’ll bring you, whether you come willingly or not” 

It’s an empty threat, you know from the way his tone is quiet, and unsure.  And you know that he would never fight you, even now.

You reach out and wipe a stray tear from under his eye, and give him a bittersweet smile.

And then you surprise the entirety of those in the cave with you, as you lean in, and press a kiss to his lips.  It’s chaste, and had someone blinked, they would have missed it.

But to Zuko, it was final.  It was goodbye, and it was the middle finger of farewells.

You pull away all too soon, your hand lingering on his cheek for a second longer, before you drop it, and back away from him.

“Goodbye, Prince Zuko” 

He keeps Azula from attacking you as you help Katara and Aang to the safety of Appa’s saddle, because he couldn’t bear to see you hurt.

As you leave him, probably forever, he’s not sure what to do next.

He realizes he never even said goodbye.  The last words he’d spoken to you was a threat to take you as his prisoner.

What was the point of having his honor if you wouldn’t be by his side? You said you didn’t recognize him, but he didn’t even know who he was without you.

He’d had you his whole life, and he'd never appreciated it in the ways he should have.

Now, not only were you gone, but you’d be actively working against him.

You’d gone from his loyal servant, his only friend, his one true love, to an enemy, a traitor, a threat to the country.