#Richard L Bare

[nerds-yearbook]

In 1945, in the Philippines campaign during World War II, Lt Fitzgerald was greatly troubled to learn that he had suddenly developed the ability to know who was about to die. ("The Purple Testament", Twilight Zone, TV)

[gatutor]

Randolph Scott-Angie Dickinson "Shoot-out at Medicine Bend" 1957, de Richard L. Bare.

[sesiondemadrugada]

Wicked, Wicked (Richard L. Bare, 1973).

[ozu-teapot]

Wicked, Wicked | Richard L. Bare | 1973

[schlock-luster-video]

On October 28, 2014, Wicked, Wicked was released on Burn-On-Demand DVR through the Warner Archive.

[shangchiswife]

logan howlett- little black dress

summary: after seeing logan and jean together, you feel jealous and decide to get even.

logan x fem!reader

warnings: smut, cursing

word count: 2952

....

The annual gala at Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters was always an exciting night, with mutants and humans in their best outfits, enjoying themselves and having a blast.

Tonight, however, you had a little more on your mind than just a good time. 

You and Logan had been dating for a few months now, and while your relationship was strong, there was something about the way he and Jean spent so much time together recently that had sparked a pang of jealousy in you.

You had chosen a little black dress that hugged your figure perfectly, accentuating every curve with its elegant design.

As you put on your earrings and took one last look in the mirror you felt a rush of confidence, a smirk forming on your lips. 

You were ready to drive him absolutely insane.

As you walked into the grand ballroom, the atmosphere was full of energy and excitement.

The soft glow of chandeliers highlighted the glittering attire of the guests, the air buzzing with the sound of clinking glasses and lively conversations.

Your entrance did not go unnoticed.

Heads turned, and conversations paused as you walked confidently through the crowd. You could even see students whispering and pointing at you. At one point one of them even wolf-whistled at you.

“Looking good, Miss L/N,” one of the students called out with a grin.

You shot him a playful look. “That’s a detention for you, Richard,” you said with a smirk, watching as his grin faltered.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted Logan, deep in conversation with Jean which made your smile fade.

Game on, you thought as you scanned the room and spotted a handsome mutant dressed in a dark suit talking animatedly with Scott.

When Scott excused himself, you saw your opening.

With a purposeful stride, you approached the man, your eyes sparkling with mischief. His attention shifted to you as you neared, and you flashed him a warm smile.

The mutant’s eyes widened as he drank in your appearance.

“Good evening,” you purred, your voice laced with a hint of playful charm. “I hope you don’t mind if I join you for a moment.”

“Not at all,” he said with a friendly smile. “I’m Stan. And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, offering a hand to him which he graciously took. 

“So, Stan,” you said, your eyes sparkling, “What brings you to this splendid event tonight? It’s not every day you meet someone with such an intriguing presence.”

Stan seemed to appreciate the attention, his smile widening as he ran a hand through his blonde hair.

“I was actually looking for a bit of excitement,” he said with a wink. “And it looks like I’ve found it.”

You laughed lightly, making sure to touch his arm casually as you spoke. “Well, I’m glad to be part of your exciting evening. It’s always nice to find someone who knows how to enjoy themselves.”

As the conversation continued, you noticed Logan watching from across the room. His gaze was intense, and you could see his frustration growing. He kept glancing over, unable to tear his eyes away from your interaction with Stan.

His gaze darkened, intense and almost feral, as he took in the sight of you. You saw the way his hand tightened around his drink, the barely restrained hunger in his eyes. 

It was exactly the reaction you had been hoping for.

Jean said something to him, but he didn’t respond, his focus entirely on you.

You smiled, just a hint of satisfaction curling your lips before you returned your attention to Stan.

 “You know,” he said, his voice lowering slightly, “I’m really enjoying our conversation. How about we leave this party and continue it somewhere more private?”

Before you could respond, you saw Logan storming over, his face red with anger.

“Hey, Y/N,” Logan said, his voice clipped. “We need to talk,” 

Stan looked between you and Logan, sensing the sudden shift in the atmosphere. “Is everything alright?” he asked, clearly unsure of what to do.

“We’re fine,” Logan practically barked at him, his eyes not leaving yours for a second.

You glanced at Logan, your expression a mix of surprise and curiosity. 

“I think I’ll handle this,” you said to Stan, giving him a reassuring smile. “Thank you for the lovely conversation.”

“Of course,” Stan replied, stepping back. He cast one last, disappointed glance at you before exiting the ballroom.

Logan’s intense gaze remained fixed on you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little bit of wetness pooling in your panties.

“What’s the deal with you and Stan?” he demanded, his voice low and edged with frustration. 

“You’re driving me insane, flaunting yourself in that hot little dress and flirting with him like that.”

“I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you,” you said, attempting to sound playful despite the blush creeping up your neck.

Logan took a step closer to you so that your chests were practically touching. The air between you crackled with tension.

“You knew exactly what you were doing,” he said, his voice dropping to a growl. “Watching you with someone else is pushing me to my limit.”

You felt a rush of exhilaration at his dominant demeanor.

“Maybe that was the point,” you said, leaning in slightly, your voice dropping to a whisper. “To make you remember what you mean to me.”

Logan’s eyes darkened with desire, his hand reaching out to grasp your arm firmly. 

“You’re testing my patience,” he warned, his voice thick with barely restrained need. “And I’m done waiting.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his words and the assertive way he was holding you. You tilted your head slightly, your lips close to his ear. 

“Maybe it’s exactly what we both needed,” you murmured, your voice laced with suggestiveness. “To see where this tension leads us.”

Logan’s grip on your arm tightened just enough to send a shiver down your spine. 

“We’re going somewhere more private,” he declared, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“Now.”

With that, he guided you firmly but gently through the crowd, his hand never leaving yours. 

The vibrant energy of the ballroom faded as he led you swiftly and confidently towards a quieter, more secluded area.

Your heart hammered in your chest. This is what you were waiting for.

Logan’s hand stayed firmly on your back, leading you towards a quieter, more private corner.

When you reached a quiet corner, Logan wasted no time. 

He pushed you gently but firmly against the wall, his body pressing close to yours, his breath hot against your skin.

Logan’s gaze locked onto yours, his eyes full of lust.

“Do you have any idea how much you’ve been torturing me tonight?”  he growled, his voice low and rough, sending a thrill of excitement through you.

You could barely keep your composure as his words made you even wetter. 

“Maybe I wanted to see just how far I could push you,” you replied, your voice soft and teasing, “to remind you of what you mean to me.”

Logan’s lips curved into a predatory smile. 

“Well, you’ve definitely made your point,” he said, his voice dripping with authority. “Now, I’m going to make sure you feel exactly how much I’ve been waiting.”

Without another word, he cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your lips before he captured them in a deep, demanding kiss. His lips moved against yours with a mix of urgency and hunger, his hands exploring the curves of your body in a possessive manner.

You responded eagerly, your hands sliding up to his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. Butterflies formed in your stomach, yielding to his every move. 

When the kiss finally broke, you were both panting, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Logan’s eyes were dark with desire and dominance. 

“I’m not letting you go until you’ve made up for every second I’ve had to wait,” he said, his tone leaving no room for disagreement.

You looked up at him, your breath catching at the raw intensity in his gaze.

“I think I said something, sweetheart,” Logan said, his voice lowering to a soft but commanding murmur. “What do you say?”

Your pulse quickened as you met his gaze, the fire in his eyes fueling your own excitement. 

“I’m ready,” you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

A satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of Logan’s lips. 

“Such a good girl,” he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips that left you craving more.

You whimpered softly as he began unzipping your dress, the cool air brushing against your skin as the fabric fell away, leaving you exposed under his hungry gaze.

The sensation of his fingers brushing against your bare back sent shivers through you, making you breathless.

Once the dress was loosened enough, he guided it off your shoulders and let it fall to the floor, his eyes never leaving yours. The look of hunger in his gaze made you feel both vulnerable and incredibly desired.

Logan’s hands roamed over your bare skin with a possessive intensity, each touch sending waves of pleasure through you. 

His gaze was unwavering, filled with a deep, primal desire that made every touch feel electrifying.

He took his time, savoring the way your body responded to his touch. His fingertips traced patterns across your skin, exploring and teasing as he gradually shifted his focus to your bare breasts.

“So fuckin’ pretty,” he praised before taking one of your nipples in your mouth.

You moaned in delight, your hand instinctively moving to grip his hair, pulling him closer as you arched into his touch.

Logan’s mouth worked expertly, his tongue flicking and sucking with a rhythm that drove you wild.

After a few moments, he pulled back slightly, his lips still lingering on your skin. 

His breath was hot against your ear as he whispered, “You have no idea what it did to me, seeing you in that black dress. It made me want you more than I thought was possible.”

Logan's hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer until you could feel the hardness straining against his pants.

You whimpered as you started grinding on his clothed cock making him groan. You began to grind against his clothed erection, the friction causing both of you to moan. 

His grip tightened, guiding your movements with an urgency that made your breath hitch. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Show me how much you want this.”

You could feel his need growing, matched by your own as you pressed harder against him.

As you continued to move, Logan’s hands slid down to cup your ass, pulling you closer and deepening the contact. 

His kisses were fierce, trailing down your neck as he held you against him. The heat and urgency in his touch made every moment more intense, heightening the pleasure for both of you.

Logan’s breaths were ragged, his voice low and feral as he groaned against your skin.

“I need you,” you whispered between kisses, your voice a desperate plea. 

With a growl, he bent down so that his face was level with your black lacy panties. Without breaking eye contact, he leaned in, his fingertips grazing your inner thighs before his teeth caught the edge of your panties. In one swift, deliberate motion, he pulled them down, the fabric sliding away like a tease.

You moaned as the cool air hit your bare pussy.

Logan’s gaze remained fixed on you as he tossed the panties aside. His hands cupped your hips, pulling you closer. 

He pressed a heated kiss to your inner thigh, his breath warm against your skin.

When his lips finally brushed against your core, the shock of pleasure made you gasp.

Your hands carded through his hair making him grunt.

“Taste so fuckin’ good, peach,” he murmured eating you out like a man starved, his praise sending a wave of pleasure that made you moan uncontrollably.

He continued his assault on your pussy with his tongue. The way he alternated between teasing licks and firm strokes made you see stars, your moans growing louder with each passing second.

“Lo I’m gonna-” you shut your eyes with contentment as he flicked your clit with his tongue, his movements becoming faster.

“Cum for me baby,” he coaxed, his voice rough with desire. His command sent you over the edge, your body surrendering to the powerful waves of pleasure that crashed over you.

Logan straightened up, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he licked his lips.

“I could eat that pussy for hours,” he said before undoing his belt.

Your eyes widened with anticipation as his cock sprang free, thick, and ready.

With a swift motion, he pressed you against the wall, the cool surface brushing against your bare breasts.

You felt him line his cock against your entrance making you mewl.

“Don’t worry, peach, I’ll take care of you,” his breath brushed against your ear before he playfully nibbled it, causing a light shiver to run through you.

He entered you with a groan.

“Always so fucking tight,” he hissed as your mouth contorted into an o shape from his length stretching you.

He didn’t even give you a moment to adjust to his size before his hips began to move, thrusting deep and relentlessly.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he panted, each word punctuated by a sharp thrust that drove you higher and higher. 

Your only response was a high-pitched moan, your body arching involuntarily.

“You wanted me jealous, wanted me to fuck you like this,” he growled, one calloused hand wrapping around your throat while the other found your clit, teasing and tormenting you.

“Well, sweetheart, you got your wish,” he snarled, his cock twitching inside you as your screams urged him on, driving him deeper with every thrust, each one perfectly hitting your g-spot.

He groaned, eyes closing momentarily as he felt you tighten around him. 

“Keep making those pretty little sounds, baby,” he commanded, quickening the pace of his hips, and making you squeal even louder.

“Logan, I’m gonna cum,” you gasped, your breath hitching as your walls fluttered around him.

“Then cum for me,” he demanded, his voice thick with desire.

The heat between you grew unbearable, and you could feel your release building, your body on the brink of release.

Logan's grip on your throat tightened slightly, just enough to remind you of his control, while his other hand continued its merciless assault on your clit. The rhythm of his hips became erratic, his own need evident as he pounded into you with increasing urgency.

"Come on, baby," he rasped, his voice rough and filled with dark promise. "I want to feel you cum around my cock. Let go for me."

That was all it took. 

Pleasure shot through you in waves that left you breathless and shuddering beneath him. Your walls clenched tight around him, milking his cock as you rode out your orgasm, the world fading into nothing but intense, consuming bliss.

Logan groaned deeply, his own restraint slipping as he felt you convulse around him. 

His hips snapped forward one last time, burying himself to the hilt as he let out a guttural growl, releasing inside you in hot, pulsing waves.

He held you there, still and breathless, his body pressed tightly against yours as you both came down from the high. 

Slowly, he released his hold on your throat, his fingers brushing over the marks he'd left behind. His other hand stayed between your legs, gently soothing you as you both caught your breath.

"That's my girl," Logan murmured, his voice softer now, laced with a tenderness that made your heart swell. He leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "You did so good, baby."

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile coming to your lips.

Logan chuckled, the sound deep and rough, as he brushed a stray lock of hair from your face. 

“You think you can handle it?” he teased back, though the edge in his voice told you he wasn’t entirely joking.

You bit your lip, feeling the lingering aftershocks of your orgasm still pulsing through your body.

“Careful what you wish for, sweetheart,” he murmured, his thumb tracing the outline of your swollen lips before leaning down to capture them in a searing kiss. 

“Maybe I should make you jealous more often,” you panted, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at him, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your release.

Logan’s eyes glinted with a mixture of amusement and warning as he let out a low chuckle. 

“You might want to be careful with that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice rough but tinged with affection. 

He leaned down, brushing his lips softly against yours in a kiss that was surprisingly tender after the intensity of what you’d just shared. 

“Because you know I’ll always give you exactly what you ask for.”

You smiled into the kiss, your heart still racing but now with a warmth that spread through your chest. 

“Maybe that’s what I’m counting on,” you teased, your fingers threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

He groaned softly, his hand trailing down your side, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin. 

“You’re something else,” he murmured, his tone full of admiration as he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. “But you’re mine, and don’t you forget it.”

“Don’t worry I won’t,”

[munsonfamilyband]

I’ve decided to elaborate on Steve’s Mom being good

~~~~

“Elizabeth Harrington.” She didn’t usually answer calls but Richard was busy preparing for his meeting that afternoon, so here she was answering the cellphone she had bought so that Steve could reach them at any time.

“Hi there, are you Steven Harrington’s mother?”

“Yes… who am I speaking to?” There was a pit of worry growing in her stomach, somehow she knew this wouldn’t be a nice conversation.

“I’m calling from Hawkins Memorial Hospital. Your son has just been admitted and is being treated for infected animal bites and a potential concussion. We’re calling because your son has a history of head trauma and we wanted to inform his family that he is being treated.” Her heart stopped for a moment, barely able to hear over the ringing in her ears. Her son, her only son, her baby, was in the hospital. What did she mean infected animal bites? And history of head trauma? What had she missed as she allowed Richard to drag her all over the country.

“Thank you, I-we will be there as soon as we can. We will be there, thank you.” She hung up before the nurse could respond and, blinking back tears, began gathering her things and throwing them into her suitcase. As she was folding up her skirts, Richard walked into the bedroom and raised an eyebrow.

“What are you doing?”

“We need to leave, I just got a call from the hospital at home, Steve is there, he-“ She was interrupted by Richard scoffing and she looked up to see him roll his eyes.

“We can’t leave, Elizabeth. I have a very important meeting this afternoon. Besides, Steven will be fine, he was last time.” Elizabeth froze, her blood going cold as she stared at Richard in dawning horror.

“What do you mean, last time?”

“The boy is so needy. I got a call last summer from that hospital that Steven was there, something about his job at the mall, I don’t know. We were in the middle of that big merger and I said he would be fine. And he was, when we came home-“

“We didn’t come home until late August, that merger was around the fourth. My son was in the hospital and you never told me?” The cold numbness she had felt just moments ago was disappearing, fast, and replaced by a burning hot rage. Fury that she had put up with this man for so long, that she had let him do so much to her son, that she hadn’t noticed that her son had been hurt last summer. “Who do you think you are to hide that from me?!”

“I am your husband, and I can hide whatever I like from you. The boy is fine, he doesn’t need more of your coddling.” In that moment, anger coursing through her veins, Elizabeth made a quick decision. Straightening her back, she turned away from Richard to begin packing again.

“Fine, if you don’t want to come, you don’t have to. I will go by myself and be with my son.”

“How exactly are you planning to get there? You’re not taking my car.”

“I don’t need your car. In case you have forgotten, I am the one with the money in this marriage. I have my inheritance, and the house- speaking of,” she grabbed the phone, dialing a number and turning to face him as she put it to her ear. With a grin, she heard the bank correspondent answer and ask what they could do for her. “Hello, I am looking to remove someone from my account.” She stared at Richard with a smug grin as she recited the account number and told them who she wanted removed. “And if you could add a message or something in your books to let anyone know that if he tries to access the account to not let him and call the police, that would be greatly appreciated.” When they confirmed that the note had been recorded and her account was all hers, she thanked them and hung up. “You can keep the parts of my inheritance that I gave you, but the rest of it is mine.” She took great pleasure in seeing how red his face was before turning back to her luggage and zipping it up. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go see my son. You should be getting a letter from a divorce attorney in a few days.”

She left the room without saying goodbye and got in a cab, heading straight to the airport. Elizabeth thought she should be crying, she had just ended her 30 year long marriage after all, but she felt like screaming instead. Screaming about how free she felt for the first time in her life.

The airport was full of people running around, clearly trying to get somewhere but being stopped by something. It wasn’t until she caught sight of a TV screen that she realized what was happening.

“7.4 Magnitude Earthquake Rocks Hawkins, IN”

She starts walking toward the counter faster.

———

After managing to charter a small plane to get as close to Hawkins as she could, then getting a cab that was willing to drive into Hawkins, Elizabeth found herself running into the hospital and fighting her way though the crowd of people to the nurses station.

“I’m looking for Steven Harrington, I got a call a couple hours ago that he was here-“ A voice behind her spoke before the nurse could.

“You’re here for Steve?” She turned and saw a group of the most dirty teenagers she may have ever seen. She could vaguely recognize two of the children as Sue Sinclair’s but she didn’t know their names. She did recognize Nancy Wheeler, though she had thought her and Steve weren’t dating anymore.

“Nancy?” The girl mirrored her own confused face, brow furrowed as they looked at each other.

“Mrs. Harrington? What are you doing here?”

“I got a call in Chicago that Steve was here and I came as fast as I could, what are you…I thought you and Steve weren’t-“

“Oh! No, we aren’t dating, but we are friends and he got hurt so….here we are.” Nancy gestured to the other people around her, including a girl her age in a red beret that was staring at her like she was an alien.

“Right….” Just as she was about to ask who the others were, a nurse tapped her on the shoulder and informed her that she could come back to see Steve. Elizabeth didn’t even stop to say goodbye to the group of children she had just seen, all she could focus on was seeing her son.

When she entered his room - after having to go into a new wing with men in black suits standing in front of the doors - she nearly collapsed. Because there was her son, lying in a hospital bed with bandages wrapped around his head and neck, looking so small in a way he hadn’t since he was little. She stumbled forward and the noise she made had Steve jolting, looking around the room like a cornered animal. She hurried closer and grabbed his hand in both of hers, getting him to focus fully on her.

“Steve, sweetie, you’re okay, it’s just me.” He squinted in her direction before something like shock covered his face.

“….mom? What are you…what are you doing here?” Her heart cracked at the hesitancy in his voice and she felt tears drip down her cheeks.

“I got a call from the hospital earlier, I got on a plane and got here as fast as I could. Your father….well, he’s not here.” Steve stared at her, processing her words as he blinked slowly.

“Why now? You didn’t come last time, why now?” She could see the tears shining in his eyes that he was fighting back and her heart cracked all over again.

“Oh, my sweet boy…. If I had known, I would have been here.”

“What…what do you mean, if you had known? The hospital called, how could you-“ He cut himself off and his eyes widened slightly. “Dad….dad got the call, didn’t he?” She nodded sadly, knowing that no more had to be said. Reaching forward, she cupped his cheek with one of her hands, rubbing her thumb gently under his eye and she smiled sadly as he leaned into it.

“I’m leaving your father.” Steve’s attention snapped back to her, trying to sit up in his bed and she quickly shushed him, guiding him back to laying down. “I should have left him years ago. All the things I let him do to you….I am so, so sorry, Steve. I should have done this a long time ago but I wasn’t brave enough. Finding out that you had been hurt enough to be in the hospital and he never told me… that was the final straw for me. I already took him off the inheritance account.”

“Mom…. That- I am so proud of you. I can’t imagine how scary that was-“ She brushed that aside with a wave of her hand.

“We can worry about that later, me being on my own is not the most important thing right now. Steve, baby, what happened? They said you had infected animal bites, and-and a history of head trauma? How much…. How much have I missed in your life?” They stared at each other in silence and she watched Steve thinking about his next words very carefully. His careful thinking didn’t do much good though when his tears came back with a vengeance.

“Mama….” Immediately she was wrapping him in her arms. He hadn’t called her that in years, ever since Richard insisted that she was coddling him too much. He was only 8, but out of fear or a need to please, she had listened and the nights of watching movies with him curled into her side had ended. They had been so close when he was little but had drifted apart after that moment. Now, she knew that she wouldn’t leave him again because here he was, crying in her arms and calling her mama for the first time in a decade.

“It’s alright, my sweet boy, it’s alright, I’m right here…”

———

When Steve had calmed down some he was able to tell her everything, after warning her that she would have to sign multiple NDAs just by hearing what he had to say. She was horrified, and angry, and she wanted to kill her husband for dragging her away from her son when he had been fighting monsters for years without her even knowing. Once he had explained it all, she pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Do you mind if I step out? I’m going to go call an attorney to get the divorce process started now. I want to be done with your father as soon as I possibly can be.” He nodded but was having a hard time letting go of her hand, so with a gentle smile she took off her jacket and handed it over to him. “I promise I will be back. Do you want me to send someone else in while I’m gone? All of the children you adopted are in the lobby.”

He gave her a dry smile, clearly feeling better if he could sense her joke. “Could you send Robin in?” He was holding onto her jacket for dear life, and with a pang she was reminded of him clutching his teddy bear the same way when he was little.

“I can do that. Is Robin…?” She wanted to know everything she had missed, and if he had a girlfriend then she wanted to know.

“Robin? Oh, god, no. The kids joke that we share a brain sometimes, but I think we have twin souls. I haven’t….I don’t have the match to my soul yet, but Robin and I, ours are identical. She’s my best friend.” Elizabeth knew what he was talking about and smiled as she left the room. As a child he had been obsessed with soulmates, he took after her romantic heart. He had said he wanted to meet the person whose soul completed his, but she had told him that wasn’t how it worked. His soul was already complete, but his soulmate would have a soul that added to his, like paintings in a series: complete works on their own but they become something bigger when they are together. He had clearly taken that idea to heart and was trying to find that person.

Stepping into the lobby she found it mostly empty, clearly people had been moved to see their loved ones. With a gently cough to get the groups attention, she spoke. “Which one of you is Robin?”

The girl in the beret sat up straight, staring her down in an almost challenging way. “I am. Why?”

“I have to make a call and he’s asked if you could go back.” The girl stood and narrowed her eyes at her.

“What? Couldn’t even stay with him for an hour before you had to run off-“

“Robin!” Nancy cut her off, clearly telling her to be nicer but Elizabeth appreciated the girl’s fierce protection of her son.

“I’m calling a divorce lawyer so that I can finally leave Steve’s father. I want to get it started as fast as possible so that neither of us has to deal with him far any longer than we absolutely need to.” The girl blinked at her in surprise and Elizabeth placed a gentle hand on her arm. “I know I haven’t been there for Steve, and I hate myself for how long I let it go on. I know he and I will have a lot of things to work through, but I am not planning on leaving him again. I’m glad he has a friend like you, though. Finding someone who matches you on such a deep level is rare, and if anyone deserves that, it’s him.” The girl nodded at her with wide eyes and Elizabeth walked away to go find a phone.

When she returned to Steve’s room later everyone else had moved into the space, including someone on a second bed closer to the window. Steve noticed her first and reached a hand out to her.

“Mom…” Without hesitation, she pulled a chair over and sat down beside him, clutching his hand in hers and pressing a kiss to the top of it.

“Hi, sweetie. The attorney is finalizing the paperwork and then sending it to your father so he should be getting it in a few days.” Steve gave her a tired smile and then looked around the room.

“Do you…do you want me to introduce you to everyone?”

“If you feel up for it, I would love to meet them.”

“Alright, well you know Nance and you already spoke with Robin.” He gestured to the girls sitting on the other side of his bed before nodding to the little girl curled up in a chair by his feet, resting her head against his leg. “That’s Erica, you and Sue Sinclair were friends right? She’s her youngest. Lucas was in the waiting room but he’s with Max next door, he’s Sue’s older kid. Max is his maybe-girlfriend, it’s complicated.” Elizabeth smiled at the little girl who had curled one fist around the blankets of Steve’s bed. She could hear Steve slurring his words a little from exhaustion but he kept talking. He looked over at the other bed where a boy his age with long hair was sleeping, covered in bandages, and another boy, younger than Steve but not as young as Erica, who was sleeping on the couch under the window. “That’s Dustin on the couch, he’s the one whose cat got eaten, remember? And then, uh, that’s Eddie, in the bed. He’s-he’s new, this is his first go around, and he got really hurt but they said he’ll be okay.”

Elizabeth managed to school her face into a neutral expression when she saw the blush that colored Steve’s cheeks when he spoke about Eddie. She could see in his eyes and hear in his voice that he was well on his way to being smitten with the other boy but she didn’t want to startle him too badly. So she decided to wait to speak to him about that until later.

The time finally came a couple hours later, Steve had just woken up again and everyone else had fallen asleep so Elizabeth took her chance.

“Steve? I know I haven’t been great about showing you lately, but I do love you very much. And if, for any reason, you had something you wanted to tell me, I wouldn’t stop loving you.” He blinked at her, the blush rising up his neck once again.

“Uh, well, I know I said I hadn’t found the match to my soul yet, but that may not be fully true.” She gave him a smile and glanced over at the other bed.

“I can see what you see in him, he’s your type.” Steve turned bright red.

“He’s-what-I don’t-what do you mean by that?”

“Well, he looks a lot like Nancy is all. Big curly hair, large eyes. I also know how you felt about that man in the space movie, the one who did that treasure hunting movie?”

“I-Mom are you talking about Harrison Ford?”

“Yes, that’s his name! I can tell when you like someone, Steve, and you always paid more attention to those movies.” Steve just groaned in embarrassment.

“I can’t believe that you picked up on that.” He glanced at her, the nervousness back on his face. “You aren’t… you don’t care, that he’s a guy?”

“Steve, my beautiful boy, all I want is for you to be happy. Besides, I have a cousin back in Italy who just married a man a few years ago. I thought it was rather romantic, that they decided to get married even if the law wouldn’t recognize it.” Steve smiled at her, tears in his eyes.

“I’ve missed you so much, mama.”

“And I’ve missed you, sweetie. Go back to sleep, you need your rest.” He nodded at her and in moments he was back to sleep.

She knew they had a lot to do, a lot of healing both on their own and together to get over years of trauma and trust issues, but she knew, somehow, that they would be okay.

[marimayscarlett]

Little recap of the last concert in Gelsenkirchen // some of the most memorable things for me 🤍

First of all, spending the day and/or concert with @m---e---l, @vulnerant-omnes @tinnike and @iinchicore - laughed, cried, had a great time with you all, thank you a lot ladies 🤍

Hug in the elevator - I saw no feet in the elevator, panicked (❗), then saw the group hug and bawled so hard my contact lenses got out of place 🤙🏻

Richard's growling. I will not elaborate, but rest assured, I did have several thoughts about it:

Puppe cam: Till abandoning the band to play the same melody for about 4 minutes and his appreciation of backstage staff 🤲🏼

Butcher Till with sparkly hat, apron and dick out. A summer look 🌞

"Mit Maggi macht das Kochen Spaß" - Till getting passed a bottle of Maggi instead of a flamethrower for the Flake-soup 🍲

hallucinatory corner™: my delusional ass thinking that Richard nodded in acknowledgement when he saw my hand-heart 🫶🏻 (he most likely absolutely didn't)

Paulchard Polonaise - no kiss, but party dance 🪩 -> but then later: Pussy Paulchard kiss - blink and you get foam in your eyes and miss it 💋

Fan cam time partly used for some Rammstein crew appreciation 🙏🏻

Richard's boat ride with Maxime (dad being 😬😵‍💫, daughter being 😃👐🏻)

Sleeveless Richard + stripping his coat very enthusiastically (no, I have not recovered from this, my phone almost slipped out of my hand during this)

Richard holding on to Till's sleeve and pulling him into a hug and Till hugging him just as tight 🫂

Paul crying, Schneider being on the verge of tears, Richard barely holding on while Olli dances in the elevator 🕺🏻

little sweet moments after the concert: meeting a lady from the Frankfurt concert a few weeks back, random lady checking in on me while I bawled my eyes out after the concert, and random guy complimenting my red dress, telling me he loves the DRSG mv and later screaming 'Du riechst so gut!' at me from his car window and waving 👋🏻

Couldn't have wished for a better last concert or nicer people to spend it with. It was magical 💗

(thank you @vulnerant-omnes for taking this picture 🤍)

[magknightidv]

The Knight and The Florist.

Masterlist.

Warnings: Nothing you wouldn't expect from an Idv fic. (Fairly short)

Richard Sterling x fem! Reader

---

The Florist. Y/n L/n. Recently dragged into the claws of Oletus Manor by a mysterious letter supposedly telling her of clues of the location of her missing brother. A boy so young when he was stolen from their mothers arms, the girl had barely understood the severity of the situation until she watched her family succumb to an illness that she was immune to.

How will her first meeting with the equally as new "Knight" go?

---

Matches. Games. Decode. Run. Hunters. Survivors. All key words I must remember. I must. One wrong move could cost me and the other survivors our winning matches, the more we win the more we get in return. Or so I've been told by Lily. She's a sweet girl who means well, energetic, maybe a little peculiar.

What if I fail my match. Who will come rescue me. I've been teamed with the other newest survivors, they likely will not be as experienced as the players who have been stuck here for years. No, they simply won't be as experienced. I cannot be fully sure I won't fumble and lose us a match. I do not even know how to play these games, decoding seems simple enough but what do I do if the hunter finds me? I can supposedly contain the hunter but I do not even know how to, I can even support people in some equally as unkown way. Oh how I wish they'd put me in a practise match where there would be no rewards, no consequences. Just a bit of practise.

My breathing becomes heavier and my room suddenly feels a lot smaller. I can't take it. Out.

Get out.

Leave.

Run.

Hide.

A ring of black takes the edges of my vision as I sprint towards the garden area of the manor. The flora and fauna will comfort me, surely. They wither quickly, like my family did. I'm safe with them. In my rush, I fail to notice the taller figure of a man in front of me as I enter the greenhouse.

My head smacks straight into the figure's shoulder, he grunts and turns with arms outstretched as though to catch me should I fall. I don't fall but I do stumble back in my panicked shock and take in his appearance. Long, dark hair, heterochromic eyes of blue and brown, a lean build. He's incredibly handsome, and the beauty mark just below the left (my side) side of his mouth adds to his looks.

"I-" My words fail me as I stare at the man in complete awe. He's the even newer "Knight" I suppose. A moment of stunned silence overtakes us. The greenhouse calms as though even the plants were riled up by the outburst before calming with my own heartrate. "I'm so sorry." I finally blurt out.

The man doesn't seem to particularly care, almost apathetic even before realising I'm apologising. "Oh. It is no issue, I suppose I was the one blocking the doorway." He bows slightly before returning to his towering height.

"My name is Richard Sterling. I have been dubbed, The "Knight", of these games. If it is not too much to ask, would you be able to tell me what this entails?" His tone is sincere and face although fairly flat, there is a slight upturn to his lips. The sense of dread fills me once more as I realise he's asking for advice. Advice I cannot offer.

"I'm very sorry Mr Sterling. I, myself have not been present for any matches yet. I am able to show you the schedule however if you would like? I saw that our first match would be together I believe, so we can learn together." I try to pull a kind smile onto my lips and it works as he smiles in return.

"Yes, I would like that miss..?" He holds his arm out for me to take, I wrap my arm around his and begin to lead him.

"Y/n L/n, The Florist."

What did I come to the greenhouse for again? I strain my memory to try and remember but all I see is the embarrassing but enjoyable first meeting with Richard.

---fin.

Something short and sweet, I have more ideas for these two that I wanna get to working on. REQUESTS ARE OPEN BTW PEOPLE START SENDING THEM IN PLEASSEEE I BEG.

[salixsociety]

Germanic Paganism Resource Masterlist

Notes: - Updates will be beyond infrequent. - Feel free to pop into my ask box requesting resource recommendations at any moment. - Resources do not reflect my personal beliefs or practice. I may include otherwise great resources that include theories and ideologies I do not support (such as the 'sign of the Hammer'), because I make extensive use of cross-referencing, reflection, etc to determine everything I incorporate into my craft. - I will never consciously add resources written by (Neo-)Nazis and the like. If you spot them, feel free to let me know. - You may notice there is a seemingly disproportionate amount of sources also or primarily talking about Scandinavia and Iceland, and even some primarily covering England. This is because continental Germanic paganism has only barely survived the ravages of time, and one can only learn about it if they supplement their knowledge with the more complete pictures of Anglo-Saxon paganism and Norse paganism.

Legend: [No language identifier means the source is English.] [D] - The resource is written (primarily) in Dutch. [G] - The resource is written (primarily) in German. [ON] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old Norse. [OD] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old Dutch. [OG] - The resource is written (primarily) in Old High German. [L] - The resource is written (primarily) in Latin. [F] - The resource is written (primarily) in French. * - I have not read the resource in its entirety. ** - Read with caution. !! - There is more of the resource available/this is one part of multiple.

Historic Texts and References

Tacitus' Agricola and Germania

Tacitus' Annals

The Prose Edda

The Poetic Edda

The First Nine Books of the Danish History of Saxo Grammaticus

Contemporary Books, Essays, Other Media

Myths and symbols in pagan Europe : early Scandinavian and Celtic religions - H.R. Ellis Davidson

Kleinere Altniederdeutsche Denkmälen - Heyne [G]*

Religion and Philosophy in Germany : a Fragment - Heine *

Deutsche Volkskunde - Adolf Bach [G]*

Teutonic Mythology - Grimm

Swedish Legends and Folk Tales - John Lindow

Scandinavian Mythology : an Annotated Bibliography - John Lindow *

Trolls : an Unnatural History - John Lindow

Myths of the Norsemen from the Eddas and Sagas - H.A. Guerber

Northern mythology : comprising the principal popular traditions and superstitions of Scandinavia, North Germany, and The Netherlands - Benjamin Thorpe | VOL 1, VOL 2, VOL 3

From Myth to Fiction : the Saga of Hadingus - Georges Dumézil *

The Stakes of the Warrior - Georges Dumézil **

Gods of the Ancient Norsemen - Georges Dumézil **

Zum Tamfana-Rätsel - Edmund Weber [G]*

De Tijdstippen van de Cultische Jaarfeesten - Boppo Grimmsma [D]**

Nederlansche Volksoverleveringen en Godenleer - Van den Bergh [D, OD]*

Tales and Legends of Tyrol *

Germanic Spirituality - Bil Linzie

Handwörterbuch des Deutschen Auberglaubens - Baechtold-Staubl, Hoffman-Krayer

Goden van de Lage Landen - Gunivortus Goos [D]**

Runic and Heroic Poems of the Old Teutonic Peoples - Dickins *

Gods and Myths of Northern Europe - H.R. Ellis Davidson

Old Norse - Icelandic Literature : a Critical Guide - John Lindow

Vikings : a Very Short Introduction - Richards *

Norse Mythology : a Guide to the Gods, Heroes, Rituals and Beliefs - John Lindow

Antwoord op de Vraag, door het Zeeuwse Genootschap de Wetenschappen - te Water [D]*

Verhandelingen over het Westland, ter opheldering der Loo-en, Woerden en Hoven, benevens de natuurdienst der Batavieren en Friezen - Buddingh [D]*

De Goden der Germanen - de Vries [D]*

Norse Revival: Transformations of Germanic Neopaganism - Stefanie von Schnurbein (in the series Studies in Critical Research on Religion which I highly recommend)

Digital Libraries, Dictionaries and the Like

Digitale Bibliotheek voor Nederlandse Letteren [D]*

Digitised Collection of Historic Sources of the WWU in Münster [G, D, OD, OG]*

Oudnederlands Woordenboek [D, OD]*

Ons volksleven : tijdschrift voor taal-, volks- en oudheidkunde. Jaargang 2-12 [D]*

Het Rad - Digitale Bibliotheek voor Germaans Heidendom, Runen, Seidr [D]*

Volkskunde (search results on Delpher) [D]*

Goden van Eigen Bodem - Digitale bibliotheek voor heidens erfgoed van de lage landen [D]*

Godinnen van Nederland en België [D]**!!

Forgotten Gods - Reginheim **

The Rune Poems *

Kronieken van de Westhoek (Flemish Folk History) [D]*

Brabantse Folklore, bulletin van de provinciale dienst voor geschiedkundige en folkloristische opzoekingen [D]*

Project Gutenberg has a wealth of resources about pre-christian Germanic religion*

Mimisbrunnr.info has a wealth of information including starter guides.

Author Recommendations

J.R.W. Sinninghe [D]

John Lindow

Benjamin Thorpe

H.R. Ellis Davidson

The Grimm Brothers

J. Haver [D]

To be continued.

[thiccpersonality]

You've Got My Back (So I've Got Yours)

Richard was excited.

Scratch that, he was beyond excited, he was...what does Alfred say? Ecstatic-exhilarated even.

Why you may ask?

Tonight is the night that Richard John Grayson debuts as Robin, HE a circus freak (in a fond way), gets to be seen with Batman of all people.

Tonight.

Do you know how big of a deal that is? Richard knows how Bruce barely likes to interact with people as a civilian, but Batman, he definitely won't tolerate anyone closing in on his personal space unless he says so. And he's just grateful that such a seemingly intimidating man has kindly decided to take him in, on top of letting him fight crime alongside him...nevermind that he threatened to go off on his own.

"Richard, can you stop moving for one second and put your shorts on?"

Bruce raises an amused brow at his child pouting, the boy huffing in protest of the older using his real name. "I told you to call me Dick! S'what everyone calls me, B!" Richard looks down at the green spandex shorts the other is holding out for him, his tongue poking out in concentration as he lifts each leg and slips them into each leg hole, his lips twitching in amusement when they get stuck at his thighs. "It's stuck, B!"

Richard giggles and starts shimmying as hard as he can. It's no big deal-the shorts getting stuck that is-he's had to deal with this plenty of times getting dressed for his performances in the circus.

Bruce holds tightly onto the pants and tries to hold back his amused smirk as the nine-year-old wiggles around like a worm just to get the shorts on. With a small hum, he catches Dick's attention, giving a small smile to the boy before lifting the child up and shaking him into the stubborn material, his heart feeling oddly light at the innocent sound of childish laughter echoing in the cave. "B-e-ee-e!" Richard clings onto Bruce's shoulders as he's now being held up by only his shorts, the taller having stood up so gravity would do its work and drop the boy down into the clothing. "There, all done."

Bruce lets his smile show when Richard looks at him, the boy's face flushed pink from laughter, though the joy is turned into concern at the younger frowning suddenly.

"Chum? Are you...okay?"

Richard hugs tightly onto Bruce, his chin resting against the man's shoulder as he speaks into his ear. "I-...you'll protect me, right? I've never fought crime before...but I want to do you good, B. I need to do this."

Bruce frowns and rubs the small back gently, "Of course I'd protect you. And we've talked about this before, Dickybird. You don't have to do any-and I mean any of this, do you hear me? I...I just want you to try being a kid after what happened. This lifestyle is a lot to handle, even with petty crimes, like how we're dealing with tonight. And it's a lot of responsibility to put on a child-" he gently draws Richard's head away from his shoulder so he can look the boy in the eyes-"I just want you to be safe. In whatever way that is. You don't need to fight crime to do good by me...you are good enough for me, D."

Richard clenches the Bat-suit in his tiny hands, lowering his head so Bruce hopefully doesn't see his watery eyes.

"But I want-need to do this. Knowing men exist out there like the one who murdered my mom and dad...I can't let them be free! Someone needs to do the tough stuff! So why not me?"

Bruce sighs and ignores the part of his brain where he's telling himself to say no to tonight...he doesn't want the boy to fight crime, not only because of his age, but because of the anger he still holds at the moment. But, if he doesn't teach Richard to fight and defend himself now, there's a high chance that the boy truly will run off...and then who will find him? What things could that person teach Dick instead? 

There's no way that Bruce will sacrifice Richard's innocence any further, especially when he knows what he's doing and how to teach the boy properly himself.

"Okay, it's okay."

Bruce kisses the boy's temple and lowers him to the ground, allowing the other time to cool off while he tries slipping on the child's gloves.

Key word: tries.

After a few minutes of struggling with Richard's gloves, Bruce huffs out a laugh and gently grabs the boy's wrist in his hand. "You're moving around again, Dickybird. Is this excitement or are you nervous again?" Richard finally stops moving his hands around and smiles bashfully at his dad caretaker, "Sorry, B! I think-I think it's both! I know you'll protect me...but what if I'm also not ready yet?" He blinks up at the man, insecurity and worry in his gaze. 

Bruce finally manages to finish slipping Richard's hands into the gloves, holding firmly but gently onto the smaller hand.

"If you aren't ready, then that is perfectly fine, Dicky. You can stay home with Alfred and I can go out alone, there is absolutely no pressure to do this...thing that I do." At Richards dejected look, Bruce sighs softly and grabs the boy's chin gently in his hand so he can tilt the boy's head up. "However, I wouldn't bring you out tonight if I didn't think you could do it, you hear me? If there is something that you can't do, I'll be there to help you-"

Richard's eyes shine with something that Bruce can't describe...gratitude? Trust? No one has ever looked at him like that before, like he's a hero. "If I fall...you will catch me." Richard finishes with a small smile on his lips, his posture loose and relaxed at the older man's words. "Thanks, B." 

Bruce smiles back with a slight nod, his face getting serious as he puts on his mask. "As soon as you put this mask on, you'll become Robin, Batman's partner. Your identity is something precious, so remember to keep it secret unless it's absolutely necessary to reveal it to someone. And above all else, Richard, I'm proud of you no matter what. So, if you ever decide this life isn't for you...I will still support you as your d-" he cuts himself off from that three letter word, what is he doing? He's not even anywhere close to being a father figure to Dick...and he doesn't want to feel like he's trying to replace the child's real father.

"Partner. I'll support you as your partner."

Maybe he cut himself off quick enough for Richard to not hear his slip up? The boy definitely seems distracted enough looking at his gloves...but the look in his eyes as he stares at Bruce causes the older to stiffen up nervously.

Richard blinks once-twice, before giving a large smile and looking at the domino mask in the large hand. Hopping one leg to the next in excitement, "Can you put it on for me, please?!" Bruce relaxes and nods with a small smirk on his lips, attaching the mask securely to the boy's face and stepping back to get a good look at the nine-year-old.

There's something absolutely horrifying about the sight before him, I mean, what kind of man is he to allow a child to fight crime? 

But.

There is also a swell of pride at seeing this small nine-year-old boy ready to fight for justice. Bruce knows that Dick has a lot of anger now...but, he won't give up on him, he'll make sure that he uses that anger for good; he'll teach him how to control that and put it into something productive like boxing or screaming out his frustrations or writing, cause if it's the last thing Bruce does, he won't allow Richard's trauma to make him bitter and cold...not as long as he's under this roof.

Bruce won't have a repeat of himself for this innocent little boy; his boy.

"How do I look, B?"

Bruce snaps out of his thoughts at the innocent question, exhaling out all his nerves, imagining the anxiety and stress as nothing but smoke to expell from his lungs.

"You look ready."

Robin beams up at Batman, following the man to the Batmobile and holding his hand for that extra bit of comfort as they head out into the night.

XXX

Robin remains in the Batmobile, his small hands wringing together nervously as he watches Batman fighting a group of robbers. Luckily it wasn't anything too serious...and it doesn't look like any of the men have guns, but they were still trying to steal someone's car, and Robin doesn't need to tell you the reasons as to why that's a big no-no.

It's...fascinating watching Batman fight, it makes Robin feel as though he's in a dream-a good dream he supposes-that such a man like him would take in one lone circus freak like himself.

Yet.

There's also something terrifying at seeing Batman in action. 

Robin worries that he won't be able to live upto a figure-a man-like Batman is. The only skills he has are tricks he's learned from the circus, and yes, him being lithe helps him with the acrobatics portion of crime fighting, but other than that...he's just a boy in a suit, right?

Robin's eyes widen when seeing one of the thugs sneak up on Batman holding a crowbar, his body moving on autopilot as he shouts for the Batmobile to let him out, sighing in relief when the car listens and opens the roof. "Batman, look out!" Everyone seems to freeze at the sound of his voice, the small group of robbers turning to look at the boy with wide eyes when they see a child in green spandex shorts and a bright yellow cape.

Robin sticks his tongue out in concentration as he fumbles through his belt, ignoring the shaking of his hands as he grabs his very own Birdarang and throws it as hard and precisely as he can, the man with the crowbar raising a curious brow at the small grunt that escapes the young boy when chucking the bird shaped toy. 

The man blinks rapidly, processing the sound of metal clanging to the concrete floor loudly as the weapon fails to reach its intended target and falls to the ground.

The group of criminals look at each other before laughing loudly at Robin, the one attempting to hit Batman in the head pointing at the boy with his crowbar. "That's cute! And who exactly are you supposed to be?" The man looks down and squints at the 'R' symbol printed onto the leotard, snorting loudly and gesturing at his friends to get a look at it. "Look here, fellas. It's R for Retarded."

Robin looks down at the symbol, something he felt proud of earlier that day, but now feels sad and even embarrassed over at these men-criminals-laughing at him.

His eyes water with embarrassed and angry tears, his face growing hot at the men continuing to make fun of him. "I-It's Robin! I'm Batman's partner and you'll respect me as such! So take it back! I'm not retarded!" Robin balls up his fists and tries to stand just a little bit taller when the men look at him again, his posture slumping a bit in defeat when the group of robbers somehow manage to laugh even louder and harder at him.

"You gotta be kiddin' me, Bat's! A kid!? Have you really stooped so low as to have a kid out here askin' Gotham for respect?"

The criminal in front of Batman turns to look at him questioningly, hoping that the vigilante will reassure them that it's all just an elaborate joke, that maybe the Dark Knight of Gotham truly does have a sense of humor.

Instead, what he receives for his harsh words is an icy look from the Bat himself.

It scares him-no, horrifies him to be looked at like this by Batman. I mean, he and the boys have seen the other look upset...but why does Batman look so...so...furious?

"H-Heya, Bat's...I's just joki-"

Batman grips the man in front of him by his greasy shirt, pulling the criminal in until they are face to face, the front of his mask harshly digging into the other's cheek as his deep voice rumbles protectively in the now trembling robber's ear.

"Do I look like I'm in the mood for jokes, Tony?"

The criminal; Tony, swallows nervously at his government name being used. Stuttering and sputtering while shaking his head frantically, "W-W-What!? No! Course not, Bat's! I'd be stupid ta think ya have a sense of humor..." He trails off at the look the other gives him...is there a right answer for that? Tony's thoughts are interrupted at the grip on his shirt getting tighter, a panicked squeak escaping him at his airway being restrained.

"Then why are you laughing at my partner Robin?"

Tony struggles to swallow against the collar of his shirt digging into his throat, the other robbers making a shocked noise at realizing this is in fact not a joke, but that-as usual-Batman is very serious about this situation.

Crowbar man almost drops his weapon in shock, "You mean-" at Batman's venomous glare being turned onto him, he quickly shuts his mouth, hard enough his teeth clack together from the force of it . "Of course! You wouldn't lie to us, B-man!" Batman grunts in agreement and nods towards Robin, "You made my kid very sad with those comments. Tell me. Is he crying?" 

Crowbar man stutters and looks at Tony for help on what to do, the man responding with a kick to the other's leg in panic.

Clearing his throat nervously, CBM takes a peak at the boy, praying to anyone that will listen that Robin won't be crying...because if he is, he and his friends are all-in the eloquent words of his beloved grandma-deep horse shit. (she worked on a farm, okay?)

He almost exhales loudly in relief at seeing the boy just looking extremely embarrassed, upset and sad, luckily not to the point of tears...okay, maybe the child looks like he'll cry, but the point is: he isn't! CBM quickly turns to look at Batman, "No! He's not crying! I admit...he looks a bit upset, but I swear he's not crying! Just...have mercy on us and please, for the love of God and all things holy, let Tony breath!"

Batman looks at Tony and quickly releases the young man's shirt when seeing that the other was turning purple.

He takes a moment to calm himself down and slowly sets Tony back down onto his feet, steadying the light-headed man with a warning grip on his shoulders.

"You three listen to me very closely-" he pauses to add to the air of murderous and angry parent before continuing-"This is Robin's first appearance. He obviously wasn't very confident when coming out here, but he did so anyway because he has a good heart to keep Gotham safe from filth like you. We are starting off with petty crimes and even pettier criminals; no weapons involved. So I don't understand why you have a crowbar-" he turns the glare back onto CBM, holding his hands out for the weapon and gripping onto it when the man hurriedly deposits the metal into his gloved hand. "And I definitely don't understand why any one of you would think picking on a child would be a good choice to make in front of me."

The three young men look at each other before each trying to plead their case, stopping immediately when Batman raises his hand to cut them off.

"Robin...Robin is more than just my partner, he's my child, my son. So, what you three are going to do is continue fighting us; however, when Robin hits one of you, you better act as if it's the worst thing you've felt in this world." Batman holds his glare with the three stooges before releasing them from his paralyzing glare, Tony immediately sending CBM to go 'fight' Robin. "Y-You heard the man! Go on and fight the kid, and for all of our sakes...please make it realistic."

CBM stutters and attempts to protest, but the look Batman is giving him shuts him up and sends him on his way over to Robin, the man pausing when the boy stiffens and settles into a fighting stance.

"B-Be still!"

Robin finds it odd that the man listens to him so easily...but he won't complain about an opening showing itself to him so easily.

His hands tremble as they reach into his belt, grabbing another Birdarang and chucking it as hard as he can at the man, gasping softly as the man shouts in pain and stumbles back from the force of the weapon. Robin pulls out a pair of handcuffs and tightens them onto the dazed criminals wrists just a tad too tightly, the boy stepping back and looking at the man, his eyes wide as he processes the fact that he just took down a thief.

"Oh. My. Gosh..." Robin whispers and looks back and forth between the bound criminal and Batman, the excitement slowly seeping into his body as he shakes with the attempts at suppressing the feelings. However, he's just one small little child and hops up and down while pointing at the now awake robber. "Batman, I did it! I did it! Did'ya see me!? He laughed at me and underestimated me and then he walked over trying to scare me-I was a little scared-BUT, then I 'membered what you taught me and threw my birdarang at him and then he fell down and then I cuffed him!" Robin pants loudly to try and catch his breath, his smile wide and proud while watching Batman walk over with the other two robbers. 

"I saw you. Good job, Robin, I'm proud of you for being brave tonight-" Batman (in his still bitter feelings of Tony and his crew making fun of his child) harshly tosses the two men to the floor next to CBM, nodding his head slightly in approval of their acting-"It seems you'll have their respect in no time if you show them your skills." Robin feels his heart flutter in excitement at the gloved hand ruffling his hair, his smile quickly disappearing when remembering what the man with the crowbar tried to do to Batman.

A loud slap echoes through the surprisingly quiet street, Robin glaring harshly at the now stunned man.

"Robin!"

The boy turns to look up at Batman with a pout on his lips, his gaze unapologetic as he holds the older man's gaze. "What?! I'm not gonna say sorry!"

Batman sighs softly and kneels down to Robin's level, "You...you can't hit the criminals after you've already caught them, understand? We can't abuse our power. And it's not right to hurt someone just because of what they say about you, actions speak louder than their words ever can."

Robin's eyebrows furrow in confusion as to what Bru-Batman means, it taking a second for him to truly remember the man's earlier insults before he looks angry again and turns to kick the bound man in his stomach, sniffling innocently at Batman's scolding tone. "I didn't slap him cause what he said to me...he...he could have hurt you, B. A-And you promised to have my back...so why should I not have yours? You're my dad, so-" he cuts himself off and shrinks under Batman's intense stare. He's messed this up for himself, didn't he? Bruce didn't almost call him son in the cave...Robin probably just imagined it and became too hopeful-vulnerable from the excitement and adrenaline, that he let it slip.

Batman blinks in shock behind his mask before pulling Robin into a hug, shooting a glare over at the three blind mice for their cooing at the cute scene before them.

"No! I mean, you're fine. I think-you-I..." Batman furrows his brows and pauses, taking a moment to breath steadily and gather his thoughts together, his gaze never leaving Robin's uncertain yet hopeful one. "You are my son. I never said anything because I didn't want you to think I was trying to replace your real father...so, don't worry about what you said. I think the same thing about you."

Robin feels himself slump in relief, wrapping Batman-his dad-in a strong hug and hiding his face in the man's neck.

CBM can't stay quiet anymore and loudly aww's at the sight, sniffling at seeing how soft the Bat can be. "I wish I had a dad like you growing up, maybe if I did I would be better off now? You're a lucky kid Robin...and just so you know, you give a mean slap, but I won't hold it against you. You're kind of a cute kid-" at Batman's deadly glare, he corrects himself-"I mean, you are definitely for sure a totally adorable kid."

Tony nods his head, "Yeah. I think your fiery temper has a charm ta it-" he tilts his head in curiosity-"Ya know how to break into cars? We could use a guard dog."

The other lackey elbows Tony for the question and starts apologizing to Batman, "I'm sorry for his behavior! He doesn't know what he's saying-" he elbows Tony harshly in the side again-"You can't ask a freaking kid to commit crimes, Tony-and no, I don't care that you did it when you were younger, we should have standards."

Tony huffs and settles back down, "But why not? B-man over there is allowing him to fight crime."

Robin frowns at their conversation and lifts his head up from Batman's neck, "I threatened to run away and fight crime myself! B didn't want me out tonight, but if he didn't I would have left." CBM's eyes water even more and he sniffles, "You mean to tell me that Batman didn't want to lose you to this world, so he allowed you to fight crime?" Robin tilts his head at the man and pouts, "I think he just doesn't trust me fully yet."

Tony sighs and shakes his head, "Trust is earned anyway. Even with criminals like us, Batman was right when he said that your actions speak louder than words ever could...though words are still nice too, ya know? You gotta back up what you say with actions, and even though you looked kind of scared tonight, ya didn't hesitate to defend the Bat." The man nods in approval and bumps into his men to get their attention, "Seems like B-man found a good partner after all guys."

Robin looks at the group of criminals curiously for their behavior, they aren't exactly what he was expecting. He thought that these men tonight were God awful, irredeemable individuals...but CBM just wants a dad and Tony got into crimes young, so who knows what brought them to this point?

The sound of police sirens causes Robin to hide under Batman's cape with a surprised yelp, he doesn't think he's quite ready to meet the people Batman has worked with for years now.

But luckily enough, Batman notices that too and makes sure to leave the three criminals where they can be seen by the police and slips away into the dark alleyway and to the Batmobile, setting Robin gently down into his seat and turning towards the boy with a small, proud smile when he settles into the driver's seat. "So how does ice cream sound?"

Robin smiles brightly and whoops in excitement, his legs kicking out excitedly as he starts chanting what flavor he's going to get.

XXX

It's a few weeks later and three criminals are playing a game of poker until their game is interrupted by an officer calling out their names. "Tony Esposito Bianchi, Marcus Hamilton and James Irwood! There's some letters for you three."

The three men look up in shock before scrambling towards the officer with grabby hands for the letters, it's rare that the three get any messages from outside, is it family? Marcus opens his first, licking his lips in excitement at the thought of who it could be, his brows furrowing at seeing childish handwriting. "Dear CBM (Crowbar Man), after lots of thought towards my actions during our fight, I'd like to apologize for kicking you in the stomach. Even though you were a jerk, I may have went overboard, and I don't regret slapping you for almost hurting Batman. However, I assumed the worst of you when it turns out you don't have a daddy to teach you goodness...sorry about my temper and-" he pauses to read the multiple crossed out words before settling on the correct one-"assumptions. I hope your stomach and face gets better, Robin."

Something...odd settles in Marcus's chest, something warm, touched and endeared by this odd little boy he made fun of. Though his attention is caught when noticing a little extra something scribbled onto the paper.

"P.S. If you ever need a dad, I think Batman has room for plenty here. P.P.S. dad helped me write this and says he's sorry for saying you were filth...whatever that's about! :)" Marcus looks up at Tony and James with a smile on his lips after reading the letter, the three silently conversing before coming to an agreement. 

"Robin is definitely for sure a totally adorable kid, guys. And we'll make sure Gotham filth never touches him."

(So...Robin adopted three new criminal brothers and most likely (definitely) reformed then just by being adorable, he's truly already a great hero! 😂

As it was implied with Robin writing the apology to them for Bruce, he didn't mean to say they were Gotham filth, the only reason Batman did is because he was mad they hurt his son's feelings XD. Much like Robin, he pondered his actions later and felt bad for saying that to them, because ultimately, he desires for everyone to have a chance at doing good and he just implied with his words they weren't anything (as far as he's concerned).

I was going to title this story as 'Robin's Firsts' and have it be a multi chapter story about each Robin's first night out on patrol as Robin. But...I obviously didn't make it multi chapters, however, if you guys want it that way or even just as a series...I can work on it! But as usual, be patient with my horrid schedule XD.

Also, I wrote Robin hitting Marcus (CBM) because I read everywhere that he was a feisty and angry little boy. So, I decided to add that bit somewhere by having him slap and kick the poor guy XD, and yes, Bruce will have a talk about how Robin needs to control that. I just want to focus on the cute stuff.

If anyone enjoyed this small, simple and silly little story, you are much appreciated! Kudos, bookmarks, comments, silent support and all the more is always appreciated! You all are the greatest, and if you love reading good dad Bruce Wayne as much as I do, well, I literally love you. 😂

You all remember to stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛)

[steam-beasts]

E2 Escapades - A short TAB rewrite

It was February 9th, 1924 on the Northwestern Railway, on the Island of Sodor; a little island just off of Barrow where railways thrived.

Down at Knapford, the railway's director, Richard Topham Hatt stood at the shunting yards. He had been standing there for about 35 minutes, occasionally checking his pocket watch. He let out a sigh, tapping his foot as his patience began to wear thin, but he tried not to show it. He looked at his pocket watch again – it was nearly 8 o'clock. They said on the phone that it would be here by now.

He then heard a whistle and looked around, only to be slightly disappointed when he saw Edward puffing along the track, shunting a particularly cheeky truck. "Teapot! Teapot!" It chanted before Edward gave it a biff "That's enough" he replied firmly, eliciting a yelp from the truck, which ceased the cheeky backtalk.

As Edward was about to see to the next truck, he noticed the Fat Director standing near the track. Curious, he took a moment to reverse and switch on to the track closest to the man.

"Good morning, Sir!" Edward whistled cheerfully. The Fat Director gazed up at him with a small smile "Ah, good morning to you too, Edward. Keeping the trucks in line as usual, I see" he replied observantly. The Larger Seagull chuckled "Yes, Sir. All the usual..."

A moment of silence passed before Edward spoke up again "Erm... pardon me for seeming intrusive here, Sir. But why are you standing here in the yard?" He asked. The director let out a sigh "No, no... it's quite alright, Edward. I'm simply just waiting for the new engine to arrive" he said. Edward's eyes widened at the words "new engine".

"The new engine, Sir?" Edward repeated, raising his eyebrow "Are you referring to the one that...well...was supposed to be here last year in November?"

"Indeed...Edward, you're a hardworking engine, and I appreciate you taking time out your schedule to shunt the coaches and trucks. But i have to acquire a new shunter at some point, you know" the stout gentleman said. Edward hummed in acknowledgement "I know, Sir. It hasn't been easy around here... especially since...Glynn went missing" he said, his tone more solemn.

The Fat Director grimaced at the mention of his first engine. Glynn was an engine the Fat Director made with his own bare hands back when he was a boy. Glynn was the original No.1 of the NWR, but just after No.5 was bought, he went missing one morning. They searched and searched, but eventually had to move on. The Fat Director soon had to begin a search for a new shunter, much to Edward's disappointment.

The stout man sighed sadly "I...I know, Edward. But it's been months and we must move on. I can't always have you or James being the temporary station pilot"

"Of course, Sir, I–"

"Did you call me, Sir?" A new voice suddenly called. Just then, up along the track beside Edward came a rebuilt L&YR Class 28 tender engine

He had an extended running board, a pony truck and was painted in a sleek black with red stripes. As the tender engine came to a screeching halt beside Edward, sparks flew from his wheels causing him and the Fat Director to wince.

"Honestly, James! Stop braking so harshly!" Edward hissed, still wincing a little. James rolled his eyes "Nonsense, Edward. My brakes are as fit as a fiddle!" He proclaimed smugly.

"Edward is right, James. Your brakes may be fine, but your brake blocks are not"

James stammered "But Sir! It's not MY fault that me and my brothers were made with wooden brake blocks!" The Fat Director groaned at James's excuse. Was James wrong? No. But the director did want to make a point on replacing those wooden brake blocks with metal ones. The screeching they made was awful.

"Anyway, when will the new engine be here? I'm getting tired of shunting those coaches!" James asked, quickly changing the topic.

The Fat Director lightened up "Well, from what I've been told, the engine is on its way. That is why I am standing here, after all"

Another thought flew into Edward's funnel "What type of engine is it, Sir? You never said what is was"

The Fat Director proudly smiled "Well, I decided that this railway needs a tank engine for a change! So that's why I've ordered an E2" he explained. He once again checked his pocket watch and coughed "Ahem! I'll be back, my boys. I'm just going off to check if the E2 in question is on his way" and with that, he turned heel and walked off. It was just Edward and James now.

"Huh...an E2. Never heard of it, what about you?" Grunted James. Edward hummed thoughtfully "Hmm, I have heard of them, but I've never seen one myself. They're very big tank engines from what I've been told. A bit bigger than a Gresley locomotive"

James guffawed "Wha- bigger than Gordon?!"

"Again, from what I've been told, yes"

Edward's fireman chimed in "Don't know if getting an E2 is a good idea though. I've been at the L.B.S.C.R and E2s are pretty bad at braking and struggle at getting around corners and bends..." He said with uncertainty.

James groaned at this "Great! As if we need another engine as useless as Henry!"

Edward scowled "James, Henry's not..."

Edward quickly fell silent as a sudden shrill whistle echoed in the air. It was a whistle neither engines recognised. If Edward had a physical heart, it would've skipped a beat. Just then, around the corner came an engine that neither engines had seen before. It HAD to be the new engine.

"Hello! Is this Knapford?" The engine called. The engine was about a mile away, but the K2 couldn't help but notice how fairly young the engine sounded. The young engine was puffing towards them at a fast pace, a little too fast for his liking.

"Is that supposed to be the Fat Director's new tank engine? He's quite small if you ask me" James remarked. The tank engine was getting close, and didn't seem to be stopping. Edward's driver was observant of this "He's getting pretty close, shouldn't his driver be putting on the brakes?" He murmured. It was only when the tank engine was just metres away when panic began to arise.

"Woah, wait– why isn't he stopping?! Stop! STOP!!" James cried. Is it a good time to mention that the engine was on James's track?

"STOP!!" James yelled out, frantically trying to reverse. The tank engine finally noticed what was happening and yelped "Ah! Wait! Driver, help!" He cried to the driver, looking frantic. At this point, even Edward was backing up. The engine looked frantic, seeming to forget how his own body worked.

The Larger Seagull knew enough was enough "Oh for Lady's sake, PUT ON YOUR BRAKES, BOY!!" He shouted sharply. The young tank engine quickly did as told and the sounds of his brakes screeching pierced the air. His brakes only slowed him down by a bit, he was still going at a fast pace "I can't stop!" The engine groaned.

That was it. In that moment, Edward decided to take matters into his own wheels. Coming up behind him were switch points. He looked over at the signalman and whistled "POINTS!"

The points were swiftly changed, which resulted in Edward reversing on to the same track as James and the engine.

Edward stopped, then began going forward, towards the engine. Within moments, he and the tank engine's buffers collided. At the same time, Edward put on his brakes, and that definitely seemed like a good move. In minutes, he managed to slow the new engine to a stop.

The tank engine and Edward took a moment to gather their breath, just gazing at each other. Their respective crews climbed out their cabs to catch their own breathes, giving Edward a moment to exams the new engine's appearance.

the tank engine was unexpectedly smaller than Edward thought he'd be, even smaller than him. The tank engine had six small wheels, a short, stumpy funnel, a short, stumpy boiler and a short, stumpy dome. He was painted in a dark teal livery, with white lining and his railway's initials on his side tank, along with his number on his bunker. The tank engine gave Edward a nervous smile "Um...hello!" he said sheepishly. Edward gave him a kind smile in return "Well...hullo' to you too"

The tank engine kept his nervous smile as he backed up a little to give him space "Sorry about that, i–"

"What was THAT about? You could've crashed into me!" James suddenly yelled, switching on to the next track. The engine was taken back, guilt in his eyes "I-I'm sorry! It's just that my brakes don't work well when I go fast, and–"

"Ahem!" Someone coughed. Everyone snapped their gazes and froze when they saw the Fat Director approaching them with his two assistants "What was all the noise about? I couldn't hear the stationmaster over all the screeching!" He boomed. The three gulped anxiously. But when the Fat Director's turned his attention to the new tank engine, he immediately forgot what he was mad about "Ah, my new tank engine! I see you've finally arrived!" He said, walking over to the tank engine.

The teal tank engine put on a smile "Hello...um...Sir" he greeted the director as he looked him up and down. However, the Fat Director's happy look soon turned into a confused one "Hmm..."

James raised an eyebrow "What's happening?"

"I don't know...something must be wrong" Edward whispered, glancing at the director's puzzled look. The tank engine became worried "Is something wrong, Sir?"

"To put it bluntly, yes... i ordered an L.B.S.C.R E2 tank engine. I didn't order any modified Jintys" he said, scratching his chin. The tank engine's eyes widened "What..? But I am an E2" The engine proclaimed, becoming confused.

"Well, I can't exactly agree with you until I know that there wasn't a mix up" The Fat Director then approached the crew "Now, you two. Is he lying?"

The driver shook his head "No, Sir. He's being truthful" the Fat Director's eyes narrowed as he glanced back at the supposed E2. He still wasn't fully convinced "Does he have his blueprints with him?"

"Yes, Sir. They're in the cab"

"Go get them"

The fireman nodded and dashed towards the engine's cab. A few minutes later, he climbed back down from the cab and handed the blueprints to the director. As soon as the Fat Director got to look at the blueprints, an awkward silence fell over them all. The director's eyes narrowed, then slowly widened.

"Well, I'll be damned. You ARE the E2 I ordered..." He said incredulously "You were designed by Lawson Billinton, correct?"

"Yes, Sir! Though, I've never seen him myself" the E2 replied earnestly

Edward and James gasped softly "Oh dear...i think Sir might've been tricked again.." the K2 thought dreadfully. Edward's fireman soon jogged over to get a look himself.

"Do you mind if I take a look, Sir?" The stout gentleman grunted and gave him the paper. After a moment of looking, the fireman looked as confused as the Fat Director "That can't be right... I've seen an E2 before, this blueprint design isn't even accurate... it all looks rushed"

The Fat Director hummed thoughtfully and glanced at the E2's driver "Pardon me, but who gave you these blueprints?"

"One of the workers. They were one of the guys who built him" he replied "He was completed not too long ago. Only a few months" the driver explained. Edward and James were shocked "Goodness, he's incredibly young" Edward muttered.

"I see..." the director hummed. After a moment of thought, the Fat Director looked back up at the tank engine and smiled "I apologise for the misunderstanding, um....?" He gestured for the engine's name.

"No problem, Sir. I'm Thomas" Thomas smiled, trying to ignore what just happened. The Fat Director chuckled "Alright then, Thomas. My name is Richard Topham Hatt, but you, as you know already, are to address me as 'Sir'. Understood?" He said.

"Yes, Sir. I will"

"Very good, now...how well do you fare at shunting, Thomas?" The stout gentleman asked. Thomas beamed "I'm getting good at it, Sir"

"Alright then, sounds splendid! Now, i must get back to my office. I am a busy man, you know. I'll let Edward show you around" said the Fat Director as he wandered up to Edward "Edward, can you also teach him while you're showing him around? I think Thomas needs a bit more experience... especially around Gordon" he whispered. Edward quietly agreed "I will do my best, Sir"

Thomas watched quietly as the railway director finally disappeared from view before looking back at Edward and James, who were staring at him. He raised an eyebrow "What? Do I have soot on my face or something? Why are you two staring?"

Edward's face flushed with embarrassment as he averted his gaze "Oh, um– pardon me, Thomas. It's just that you're...well...not as big as we thought you'd be. You're small, smaller than any of us"

Thomas took offense to this and wheeshed "Puh! Sorry for not reaching your expectations. But believe it or not, I was big enough to do my job at Brighton!" He replied snarkily. He wasn't expecting to meet more arrogant big engines so soon. He switched to another track and puffed away, huffing.

Edward's eyes widened "No, wait! That's not what I meant!" Edward said as he reversed to catch up with Thomas "I just meant you're not as big as we were told you'd be. It's alright if you're small! Look at me, I'm the smallest tender engine on this railway!"

Thomas's expression softened "Well, I may be small, but I'm very hardworking!"

Edward smiled softly "I'm sure you are. My name's Edward, by the way. But the director already mentioned that, didn't he?" he chuckled. Thomas chuckled "Nice to meet you, Edward. You're a lot kinder than all the other tender engines I've met. They just boss me around as soon as they see me!"

"...and I'm James!" Greeted the other tender engine.

“It’s nice to meet you both…I was told that I was going to be a station pilot here?”

Those words made Edward recall the director’s words “Ah, yes. Thomas, come with me. I’ll show you around the yards and the station. I’ll even show you our roundhouse shed up at Tidmouth, I’m sure that’s where you’ll be sleeping” he promised. Thomas whistled eagerly to that and followed Edward as he went to get himself turned around. James watched as they did so.

From that day on, Thomas showed everyone that even the littlest engines can be Really Useful.

[gatutor]

Dorothy Malone-Zachary Scott "Flaxy Martin" 1949, de Richard L. Bare.

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 61)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (60) | Final Chapter/ Epilogue

Content Warning: soft vore/ endosoma, gore, fatality

Word Count: 3.1k

------ Chapter 61: The Deepest Layer of Hell ------

As Chester leaned over to test the king’s dish, he smelled Ronny. He didn’t know why, or how, since Ronny wasn’t present in the dining room. He sniffed closer and perceived that the prince’s scent was coming from the plate of pasta. He located the source and stabbed into one of the rigatoni noodles with curiosity. 

“No!” Eren gasped from below, almost inaudibly. Chester made eye contact with her and noticed her frantically shaking her head, silently pleading with him. He looked back into the noodle with renewed interest as he lifted it up. 

There he was: Ronny, smaller than an ant. He was barely a dot, like a flake of pepper, indiscernible if not for Chester’s superior olfactory capabilities. Chester barely managed to hide his surprise. Why was Ronny in the king’s dinner, miniaturized into nothing? He glanced over at King Richard. The brute was drooling over the tiny lady in his food, as expected, but appeared to be completely oblivious to the presence of his son. Chester had seen him eat enough people to know that he enjoyed terrorizing his prey before chowing down: He’d be tormenting Ronny if he intended to devour him. 

So why was Ronny here? If, by some odd twist, he’d been accidentally shrunk, he could cry out for help or run away. If he didn’t wish to be eaten, he could make himself known. That didn’t appear to be the case, and Eren’s reaction was not lost on Chester either. They were up to no good. He was certain of it. 

“Chester? Is there a problem?” King Richard questioned with impatience. Chester’s heart jumped into his throat. He had only a millisecond to make a snap decision. 

“No, sire,” Chester responded. He allowed the noodle with Ronny inside to slide off his fork back to the plate. “Oops.” 

“Then hurry up already,” the king growled. “I’m starving.” Chester picked out a different noodle and tasted it. 

“All clear,” he confirmed, and backed off, his heart hammering. He could scarcely believe what he’d just done, but the more he contemplated his decision, the more he knew it was the right one. If the prince was taking decisive action against his father, Chester wasn’t going to stop him, for he harbored no fondness for the ruthless king that ordered him to be flogged for his failures. A spark of hope ignited in his soul. If Ronny assassinated his father, and Chester won favor for allying himself with the successor in a critical moment, he had a chance to save Jackie. Chester excused himself from the dining room as soon as he was able, not wishing to be implicated in any plot in case the prince failed. 

Ronny panted from the stress, collecting himself after being dropped in a squishy mess. He slowly became aware that Chester had retreated without exposing him. However, he had little respite, burdened with the horrifying knowledge that he was about to be eaten alive. The giant began to dine on his dinner, impaling his massive fork into the pasta around Eren. He used more force than necessary, with the sole intention of frightening her. He poked her with the prongs, causing her to yelp, before scooping her up. Ronny peeked out and watched with horror as the giant’s mouth opened wide and engulfed her. He slurped her off the fork, savoring her rich flavor as he rolled her around in his mouth. 

Ronny clasped his own neck with discomfort as he watched the king swallow. The giant hummed with satisfaction, a thrumming roar, as his Adam’s apple bounced in a decisive stroke. Ronny had witnessed the king eat countless humans, and had indeed swallowed multitudes himself, yet the sight of a woman who was as big as a giantess to him being gulped down an even more massive throat produced within him a visceral reaction. He would sprint like a rabbit, if he wasn’t pinned down in his hiding spot with paralyzing fear. 

His insides lurched as the colossal fork collided against the bottom of the plate with an earsplitting screech. Metal scraped on porcelain and the eating utensil raised with a mountain of pasta noodles. The whole pile was ingested with startling speed, with minimal chewing as the goliath jaws flexed a few times in mastication before the food was sent down. 

The microscopic prince trembled. He didn’t consider the grisly possibility that he might get crushed by the giant’s molars. He may not even make it down to the stomach alive. Normally, Hardon wasn’t keen on chewing up the miniature people that he ate, preferring their frantic thrashing in his guts, but of course he wasn’t aware that live prey was currently present in his food. 

Ronny had barely processed this looming threat before the fork attacked again, this time skewering his pasta cave. The prince shrieked before quickly covering his mouth with both hands, desperate to stay quiet. He whined faintly as he flew up into the air, his stomach flip-flopping with dread. He looked out through the noodle entrance to behold a pair of titanic lips that stretched across his entire range of vision. The lips separated, opening to foul darkness. The food, along with Ronny, was thrust inside. 

Ronny belted out an involuntary scream. A barricade of teeth chomped down behind him. He jumped forward, out of the noodle as it slopped down into the pit. Ronny slapped onto a bumpy, squishy, slimy surface and struggled blindly to escape his fate as his mind overloaded with alarm. The wet carpet beneath him flexed in a rolling wave, and Ronny realized with horror he was laying on a gigantic tongue. The revelation was petrifying enough to freeze him in place. 

Whimpering uncontrollably, Ronny cranked his head back to observe the interior of the giant mouth. The roof of the mouth was ribbed and vaulted, as high above his head as the ceiling of a grand cathedral. The teeth were as big and craggy as boulders, crashing together as they demolished the pasta into paste in a mushy cacophony. Ronny’s skin gave off just enough of a magical glow to illuminate the enclosure of moving red flesh and bone around him. He bounced on the tongue as the enormous jaws chewed with chaotic, jerky motions. 

The muscular tongue shifted with sentient purpose, rubbing and sloshing against him. A wave of saliva swept him up and oscillated in the cavernous maw. The tongue reared up and slammed against him, squishing him into the enormous molars with shocking force. Ronny felt like he would pop under the strain; he harnessed all his willpower not to squirm, sucking in a deep breath before he was submerged by the wet wall of meat. He realized, with horror, that the giant was tasting him. 

Did he know? Could he recognize the taste? Ronny didn’t have time to think as the huge tongue wrestled him down into the ridge of gums. By sheer luck, he narrowly avoided getting wedged between two teeth. The pressure was unbearable, but the prince knew he’d be discovered if he struggled. He let out a soft wail as the taste buds raked his bare skin, leaving behind a thick film. Fortunately, the tongue relented, and Ronny gasped for breath as he was scooped up by the fleshy mass and backslid along a trail of saliva and processed pasta. 

“MMMMMMMM,” the giant sighed, rumbling the cavity like an earthquake. A gust of breath whooshed over the prince, and he understood with apprehension that he was approaching the base of the tongue. He raised himself up, bedraggled and saturated with filth, to behold the massive gullet yawning above him. A current of moist, malodorous air rose from the depths of the dark hole, hinting at just how far down the unplumbed chasm continued. Ronny involuntarily shuddered. 

The saliva and chewed-up slop pooled around him and started to suck back with a grotesque slurp. Ronny cried out as he realized what was happening, but was powerless to halt his descent as he slid down into the hungry black abyss below. He caught a final glimpse of the gates of fearsome teeth, the curved palate at the top, and the dangling uvula before the passageway of the throat closed around him and gulped down the mushy bolus, with Ronny mixed inside. 

Ronny, lubricated with a thick coat of spit and mucus, slid down the slippery pipeline with minimal resistance. He was so miniscule that the squeezing ripples of muscle hardly compressed him at all. He screamed and cried with the knowledge that nobody would hear him over the sloshing of fluids and the throbbing of the giant’s gargantuan organs all around him. He felt like he was descending to the center of the earth, into the molten core, with how hot and dark and deep the channel became as he fell. The esophagus felt like it would never end. 

The heat increased, and Ronny believed he could hear gurgling, like boiling magma, in the void below. As he plummeted down, a pattern like a starfish appeared at the base of the tunnel and rapidly advanced towards him. He dropped into it, squeezing through the ring of muscle and then falling an alarming distance through open space. He splashed into a stinging sea that bubbled with vociferous energy, as if alive. 

Ronny broke; being eaten alive was too much for him to handle. He was in hell. He forgot his mission as his eyes were assaulted with the horrific imagery of wrinkled, pulsing walls of dripping red that stirred the frothing contents of the stomach into a whirlpool. He was too small to resist the flow as he rotated in a steady churn in the enormous chamber, lost and helpless. There was no way out; he was trapped. 

“Oh god! Help me! Get me out of here!” he wailed as he paddled and flailed pathetically in the digestive juices. “Help! Please!” He bumped into a half-digested chunk of an unrecognizable food item and yelled shrilly. The loud grumbling of the belly as it processed the giant’s dinner was loud and disturbing, drowning Ronny in a mess of noise and vibration. He felt like he was going to die. 

Suddenly, a voice called out to him from the darkness. “Ronny!” An immense glowing figure, like a gastric sea monster, waded towards him, parting the bubbles and bits of food in a wave before her. She wrapped her fingers around his small form gently and raised him out of the muck. “Are you okay?” 

“No!” Ronny bawled. “This is horrible!” 

“I know. The first time is always the worst,” Eren replied soothingly. “But you’ll be okay. The magic will protect you from digestion. You won’t be harmed—physically, at least.” Her features softened with sympathy. 

Though she was trying to comfort him, her words were a sickening punch to the gut for the prince. He’d inflicted this exact torture on hundreds of humans throughout his lifetime, without a second thought. He felt even worse when he thought of Tanya, and how he had swallowed her in a terrible betrayal, leaving her to marinate in his belly for hours. Really, he deserved to suffer. Yet, she had the kindness in her heart to forgive him. His appreciation for her blossomed all the more. 

Eren held Ronny while they were in the giant’s belly, doing what she could to calm him down. He was especially spooked when King Richard spoke. The reverberation of his bass voice caused the pathetic little prince to cower and cover his ears. Eren placed her hand over him protectively. She might not be so kind to him when he was big, but when he looked so frightened and small she couldn’t help but take pity on him. 

A few hours passed, with Ronny barely holding himself together. The time came for Eren to leave, as the giant king swallowed down the rope to let her out. “Sorry, Ronny. I must go,” she said, lowering him down into the acid pool. She released him into the foul waters and grasped the rope with both hands. 

“Don’t leave me in here alone,” Ronny squeaked with alarm. “Please!” 

“Be brave, Prince Ronny. And good luck.” Eren was hauled up, until she squished through the entrance to the stomach and disappeared from sight. Ronny floundered in the gastric soup, his heart sinking like a stone. The giant shifted his body, producing choppy waves of acid that nearly pulled the prince under. 

Time crawled by at an agonizingly sluggish pace. Ronny grew fatigued from swimming and straining to stay afloat in the acid, constantly swirled by restless muscular contractions. He was too tiny for his feet to touch the bottom, and the stomach lining was too slick to provide any stability. He was already afraid, but the long, exhausting hours inside the reeking, throbbing sack wore him down to a nub.  

A new, insidious fear wormed its way into his psyche. What if Milton was wrong about the shrinking potion? What if the effects were permanent, or lasted days? He might never grow back. He might die in here. He was trembling not only from fear, but from weakness, as he labored to stay afloat in the circular current. Drowning, a demeaning and awful death, was a real possibility. 

As his energy reserves dwindled, Ronny observed that the digested food was draining out of the stomach, through another exit. He mustered all his remaining strength to swim away, but he got caught in the current and dragged down. With a nasty slorp, he was sucked down with the rest of the giant’s processed dinner into his intestines. 

Ronny cursed venomously as he tumbled through a large tube and plopped into a fold of intestinal lining. He sprang to his feet, only to slip in bile and smack back down into a forest of wiggly tubular protrusions. He broke out into incoherent screams and sobs. He was at his limit. He didn’t care about anything anymore, except getting out. 

“Tanya! I’m sorry Tanya!” he howled, tearing at his scalp. He felt like a total failure. This was his punishment, if he died a miserable death in this gross pit. His sanity was slipping. The rancid, harsh fumes were making him delirious. His throat was dry and hoarse from screaming so much. He believed his time was up; something had gone terribly wrong. The magic potion had failed him, cursed him, and he was going to die in here, wallowing in viscous fluids. 

He pounded the folds of flesh and villi with his fists in pure agony. “Tanya!” he repeated in a garbled sob. That was the worst part of the whole debacle. He wouldn’t be able to save her. He had failed to protect her. 

He recoiled into a ball as King Richard spoke in a blaring voice that vibrated the hollow space. The king was belittling him, mocking him for his insignificance, as if he knew exactly where Ronny was. He was sure of it. “LEON, I’M DONE WITH OFFICIAL BUSINESS FOR THE DAY. I WISH TO RETIRE TO BED WITH MY DARLING TANYA.” His purr of pleasure was as loud as a rockslide. 

“NOOO!” Ronny caterwauled to nobody. He was helpless to stop him. He could only imagine the filthy giant fingering her, rolling her nude body in his hands as he leered lecherously down at her. How scared she must be, her tiny face frozen in a look of horror. Ronny punched and kicked the rippling, dripping walls with frustration. “STOP IT!” 

A hot spark snapped inside him. Ronny bristled, placing his hand over his gut. The burning spread outward, tingling with pins and needles in an increasingly intense sensation. His bones popped and crunched like twigs and leaves underfoot. He grunted as his limbs contorted and his innards spasmed with a gush of pain. All at once, his body exploded outwards. He felt tremendous pressure on all sides as he outgrew the loop of intestines he was ensconced in, until with a sickening pop he burst through. He shredded the giant’s organs in an instant, tearing and ripping with extraordinary momentum. A cage of ribs momentarily constrained him before it shattered to pieces, spilling guts in all directions. 

Ronny suddenly found himself back to his normal size, in clean, fresh, cold air, thoroughly drenched in blood. He blinked and looked down. He was sitting on a couch in his father’s study, surrounded by strips of raw meat, loose chunks resembling ground beef, blood, and broken bones. The king’s body had bloomed like a carmine flower, leaving no corner of the room untouched by sanguine splatter. His face was unrecognizable, as was most of his form. A severed limb, still mostly intact below the shoulder, lay on the couch with the hand facing up. Tanya sat in the limp hand, dumbfounded. 

“Tanya! Tanya, are you alright?” Ronny cried, reaching for her with lurid crimson hands. She shrieked, stopping the prince in his tracks. Leon, who was standing nearby, scooped Tanya up defensively. 

“Oh my,” the advisor choked incredulously. “Prince Ronny? Is that you?” The disheveled prince was hardly discernible under the excessive layers of gore. 

“Y-yeah...” Ronny murmured. He flinched as a menacing figure approached him in his peripheral vision. He turned to face the threat, only to witness Ajax lower himself to his knee in a bow. 

“My king,” the guard stated.  

Ronny’s eyelids fluttered with confusion. “Right. I am king now.” 

“Yes...” Leon agreed. “Um... Your Majesty... why don’t we get you cleaned up? And then we can... discuss things...” He gulped, scarcely maintaining his composure. 

Ronny nodded. “Yes. Yes. That sounds like a good idea.” He shifted, wincing at the squelch of fluids beneath him. He gave Leon a very intense look. “Things are going to change a lot around here.” 

“Indeed.” 

“I don’t know the first thing about being king, or ruling a kingdom, as my father never trusted me enough to teach me properly. But you do, Leon. I’m going to need your help.” He held out a sopping wet hand. “Please.” 

Leon hesitated. His eyes scanned King Richard’s obliterated corpse with fresh understanding as he grasped what Ronny had done. He looked back up at the prince with hardened determination and firmly clenched the new king’s hand, christening his own hand in the blood of the old order. “Of course.” 

Final Chapter/ Epilogue

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms @maybeiamdownbad

[ozu-teapot]

Wicked, Wicked | Richard L. Bare | 1973

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

The Temptation Chapter 4

Summary: Father Barnes is devout, steadfast, and undeterred by flirtatious congregants.  So why does this fallen angel tempt him so?  You cannot serve two masters.  Will he choose God, or his heart? Priest!Bucky x curvy!reader Warnings: eventual smut; religion (yes it's a warning); mentions of past sexual assault

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Bucky had not seen or heard from Y/N since that confessional night.  He didn’t expect to, but it made him more anxious the longer he didn’t.  Would she actually come try to talk to him?  What would he say?  What would he do?  Why would he suggest that?

”Father Barnes,” Father Richards called out as Bucky was in the courtyard garden reading.

”Yes?” 

“We have a meeting set up with Miss Y/L/N and her estate lawyer tonight at 8 pm”. Bucky’s breath hitched.  “She wants to do the reading of the will here.  Hopefully Constance was quite generous to us,” he said.

”Yes, hopefully,” Bucky smiled politely.  

That night could not have come sooner.  By 7:55 Bucky was positively buzzing.  He heard the tapping of heels in the hallway and immediately stood, Father Richards following his lead.  A man walked in ahead of Y/N in a fancy suit, looking very self-important.  Y/N was looking at the floor as she walked in.  Bucky had to restrain himself from making a noise as he ogled her.  She was wearing black again, this time a low cut, lacy black shift dress that stopped mid thigh.  She had an oversized black suit jacket over it, her bare legs ending with black strappy heels on her feet.  Her pink hair was still pulled up in a scarf like the day he met her, showing off her neck and the gold chain and earrings she wore.  That damn blood red lipstick was on her lips again.  She looked like sin, and he secretly loved it.

”Welcome,” Father Richards greeted them.  “Please sit.”

The lawyer sat and before Y/N could take the other chair she stared at the desk.  “Is this a new desk?”

”Yes,” Bucky piped up, looking at her earnestly.  “The other was faulty, so I got rid of it.”

”Got rid of it?  He took the fire alarm ax to it and hacked it, saying we needed firewood!” Father Richards laughed.  The lawyer chuckled at the absurdity, but Y/N stared at Bucky.  He gave her a slight nod.  She blinked, gave him a dazed nod back and sat down.

”Well, let’s get on with it,” the lawyer started.  “Here is the last will and testament…” he droned on in legal jargon that was all gibberish to Y/N and Bucky.  They kept glancing at each other, a silent conversation seeming to happen between them.  After almost an hour, since Constance had a lot of money to spread out, he said, “Ah, here it is, after all the other charitable donations.  ‘Lastly, I leave a charitable donation of’…” he seemed to double check the number, “‘$2,000,000 to the Brooklyn parish of the New York City Catholic Church’.”  Y/N huffed a laugh, her eyes rolling.  “‘The rest of my estate, the home, the assets, and the sum of $8,887,124.36, will go to my granddaughter, Y/N Y/L/N’.  And that’s it.  Congratulations to all of you,” the lawyer stood, giving the priests and Y/N handshakes.  “Your checks will be sent to you by tomorrow morning, all other assets and the home should be in your name already, Miss Y/L/N.”

”Thank you,” Y/N gave him a nod.

”Let me show you out,” Father Richards led the lawyer out of the office, leaving Y/N and Bucky alone.  Y/N looked everywhere other than at Bucky, contemplating what she had been left with.

”Congratulations,” Bucky said, trying to break the silence.  

“The same to you,” she whispered, sparing him a glance.

”Yes, the parish will get some much needed updates with that amount.  Maybe throw some fun parties,” he tried to keep the conversation going.  Y/N just nodded.  She finally took a deep breath and looked at him.

”Could we talk?” She asked.

”Sure,” Bucky answered a little too quickly.

”Alone?” Y/N pressed.

”Yes,” Bucky said.  “We can go to the back somewhere.”

”Lead the way—“

“Miss Y/L/N, what a great blessing from Constance,” Father Richards returned, making them both jump.  “Thank you for working with us.  I know you’re not fond of us but I hope you won’t be a stranger.”

“Oh, sure, thank you Father,” Y/N gave him a quick handshake and an odd look.

“I’ll uh, show you out,” Bucky offered.

Bucky led her to the front doors.  As she stepped out he said in a low voice, “Come around the back towards the garden.  I can let you in from there.”  Y/N nodded and walked off to the left towards the back.  Bucky walked briskly through the halls towards the back of the church, past the kitchens and the nuns quarters.  Thankfully it was late enough that people weren’t milling about and he was able to get back to his personal area without being seen.  This was dangerous.  He could feel it in his bones.  And yet he kept walking.  He reached the door that connected the garden to the church and wrenched it open for her.  Y/N was already there and thanked him as she stepped in.  He led her down the last corridor that led to his room.  

She realized when she stepped in it was his personal room.  It was small, with a full sized bed, a small desk in one corner and a closet and bathroom on the opposite side.  He also had a bookshelf that was filled with books, some she recognized as books she had recommended to him, which made her smile wistfully.  Y/N could also feel the danger of this situation, but felt it was important to get it done here and now.

”You can have a seat on the bed if you’d like,” Bucky offered.  

”Thank you,” Y/N said quietly, taking a seat on the edge of his bed.  Her dress rode up a bit on her thighs, making Bucky blush and look away, feeling flustered at the fact she was here, on his bed.

”So, uh, what did you wanna talk about?” Bucky pulled the chair at the desk out and sat it in front of her so he could face her.  He kept it a couple of feet away as he sat down.

Y/N breathed deeply.  Bucky tried hard to focus on her face rather than her lace covered cleavage rising as she breathed.  “I need to tell you something.”

Bucky nodded.  This was the moment.  He still had no plan, no idea, for what he would say or do in response.

Y/N blew out a puff of air and laughed at herself then closed her eyes.  “I like you Bucky.”

“I like you, too,” he answered automatically.

“No, I…I really like you,” Y/N opened her eyes.  “In a way that I shouldn’t.”  She shifted on his bed as she looked down again.  “I want…to do things with you that you can’t do.  And because of that, I have to leave.”

“What?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed.  

“I’m leaving,” Y/N glanced at him.  “I’m going to renovate and keep the brownstone as a home base, but I’m going back out to do more travel photography.  I just can’t…” she paused as she looked at him.  “I can’t stay and keep running into you everywhere.  Have these coffee dates that aren’t dates.  Constantly crave something that I can’t have because you won’t choose me, and I don’t want to make you choose!” she rushed out the last part.  “You’ve been a great friend to me, and I have enjoyed these last few months I’ve been here, but I can’t do this anymore.”

She made a move like she was going to lift herself off the bed.  Bucky immediately reacted, moving from off the chair to a kneeling position in front of her, making her legs spread to accommodate him and a gasp fall from her lips. His hands cupped her cheeks like they did a few weeks back and held her there, staring into her eyes.

“Don’t,” he begged.  “Don’t leave…”

Y/N’s mouth dropped open as she watched him.  She loved the sight of him kneeling and begging before her, something she didn’t know she would be interested in but it was lighting that forbidden fire deep within her.  His big blue eyes were pleading with her.  Her face twisted into a look like she was in pain.

“I can’t stay,” she whispered, her eyes looking sad as her head tilted, nuzzling into one of his hands.  

Bucky wasn’t sure who leaned in first.  It didn’t matter.  Next thing either of them knew their lips met.  Bucky had not kissed anyone since he was a teenager, so he had forgotten the euphoric feeling, and now that he got a taste of his forbidden fruit he was insatiable.  Her lips were soft as they moved against his with desperation.  Bucky didn’t know what he was doing and followed his instincts, his hands slipping to the back of her neck to hold her close, then slipping down her back to bring her body flush with his.  Y/N’s arms wound around his neck and he felt like he was melting into her embrace.  Her fingers ran through his hair and as she scratched softly down his scalp he whimpered against her mouth.  Her legs caged his hips against his bed as her hands explored, cupping his jaw and then moving her lips away from his mouth to start kissing his cheek, then down to his neck, one hand holding his neck in place and the other ripping at his Roman collar, popping a button for her lips to gain more access to his throat, then scratching down his chest.  Bucky’s head fell back, his eyes rolling in his head as his hands found her hips then ran down her bare thighs, kneading the plushy skin.  

Bucky’s eyes landed on a cross that was hung on the opposite wall in his room that he had draped Constance’s rosary on.  He had a flash of guilt surge through him that was quickly replaced with pleasure when she sucked on his neck.  He felt like this was a whole new type of worship.  The popular song he’d heard from a few years back flashed through his mind:  “Take me to church.”  The devilish, carnal side of him knew in that moment that he would abandon the cross, abandon his promises and covenants, if it meant that his church was this: this woman, this pleasure, this sweet release.

Y/N’s lips traveled back up to his mouth.  He kissed her hungrily as she opened her mouth and her tongue licked along his bottom lip.  He opened his mouth and she dipped her tongue in, tasting him.  She let out a moan and Bucky chased the sound with his tongue.  He suddenly lifted himself up and pushed Y/N to the bed on her back, one of his knees settling between her legs right at her core, making her shiver in his arms.  He took his turn in kissing and licking down her throat until he reached her chest, burying his face into her cleavage as he smelled and kissed her.  He wanted to suffocate in her.

Y/N’s hips rocked against his knee, searching for the friction she desired.  As her head tilted back her eyes fell on the cross and rosary on his wall and she stiffened.  Bucky froze when he felt her tense up.  He looked up at her and followed her eye line to the cross.

“Stop,” she said, pushing him back by his shoulders.  Bucky immediately got up but stayed close.

“Y/N,” he started.

“This was a mistake,” Y/N muttered as she adjusted her clothes and stood up from the bed.  She grabbed her bag and started walking towards the door.

“No, Y/N wait, please!” Bucky grabbed her arm.  She wrenched it out of his hold.

“NO!  No Bucky.  This is wrong.  I’m sorry,” she paused, stifling a sob behind her hand.  “I’m sorry I tempted you.”

“What?  Y/N you didn’t tempt me.  I’m a grown man who can make my own choices, and I chose to be here, alone, with you, because I wanted to.  You didn’t make me do anything,” Bucky stood in front of her.  “I wanted that.  I want this,” he gestured between the two of them.

“It doesn’t matter,” Y/N cried.

“How could it not matter?” Bucky asked incredulously.

“Because you can’t have us both!” Y/N yelled, pointing towards the cross.  Bucky sighed defeatedly when he glanced at the cross again.  “And I won’t make you choose.”

“I just want you,” Bucky said desperately.

Y/N shook her head as she side-stepped him.  “Goodbye Bucky.”  She took her heels off so she wouldn’t make too much noise walking along the hard floors and opened his door.  “See you when I see you.”

“Y/N,” Bucky whispered but she was already halfway down the hallway, ducking around the corner and back towards the side door he’d let her in earlier.  Bucky broke down in tears for the first time in years as he watched her leave.  He closed his door and sat down beside it as he wept.  Everything he felt was too conflicting.  Devotion pulling him two different ways, the lust he’d been drunk on, the guilt eating him from the inside out, her smell still floating around the room making him aroused but devastated.  He got up and walked over to his bed, her body outline still indented into his comforter.  He fell to his knees where he’d been earlier and laid his head into the indent, his tears wetting the blanket as he breathed deeply, trying to calm the throbbing pain in his cock and his heart.  

**picture if from Pinterest, it's A.I. so there's no "artist" or "creator"**

@wintrsoldrluvr