#and again! this version COULD have been done well! it just wasn't!

[handbellanon]

Ok I might actually have enough spoons left over to get this out in more-than-bullet-point form. But I'm still so pissed about how Tim killed off Bobby this season, not because I'm against character death in general (in fact I can find it very cathartic if done right), but because of how it was done.

I talked a little bit about this right after the episode first aired, but a lot of my issue in my immediate reaction was the way the reveal happened. It could have been SO much less of a twist for shock value had they shown the clip with his ruptured line a little earlier in the episode. Build the audience tension with will-he-won't-he tell them he's also been exposed.

This wasn't a case of somebody wanting to leave and not having a better idea of how to have them permanently exit the show. There's been a universal across-the-board consensus that this was entirely Tim's idea and Peter Krause didn't want to leave and all of the other cast had to be convinced on this idea. Because we've literally had everyone emphatically reiterating the same story, I'm not inclined to conspiracy theories that something happened behind the scenes.

So none of this was necessary, and Tim may be taking whatever swings he wants as a creator, but that doesn't mean that it makes for a good story (tangentially, I've been seeing a lot of good meta on my dash about this regarding Critical Role Campaign 3).

But even beyond that, the thing that pisses me off the most is that Tim explicitly said Bobby dying was "realistic," but if you know even an ounce of virology/epidemiology, you can poke so many holes in that plot. And look, I am by no means an epidemiologist, and I am not even particularly well versed in immunology. But I do have two degrees in the biological sciences and even just the internal inconsistency of the way the plot was written is just *bad.*

First off, the modified CCHF virus is presented to us by Moira as having a decreased incubation period, not as being a more lethal version. The difference is how long it takes symptoms to manifest (for the purposes of the show), not you-have-a-higher-chance-of-dying. Moira's goal was to accelerate the research process. This was explicit dialogue in the show specifying how the modified virus worked, but that just got completely thrown out later. If you're gonna have that kind of detail in a show like this, at least make sure your episode agrees with itself, what the hell.

Bobby also arguably had a decreased viral load, on account of the fact that contaminated air was coming in through his ruptured SCBA hose- he wasn't fully open-mouthed breathing contaminated air like Chimney was.

But the worst part of this whole thing (as others on my dash have pointed out) is that to do this to Bobby spits in the face of all his character growth we've seen over the past 8 seasons. He started out season 1 actively suicidal and straight up told Chimney that he was biding his time, waiting to fill the names in his book, and then he was going to kill himself. And then he met Athena, and slowly learned to live life again in the after, and build a new life and sense of purpose for himself. We saw him fight to live again and again and again.

As Eddie said in the finale, "if there's one thing I learned from Bobby, there's always another choice." But Bobby didn't even try. He just decided that Chim was gonna get the cure and that was it, nevermind the fact that CCHF only has a 40% mortality rate. They just wrote him giving up, when he could have used duct tape to minimize his exposure, let them know he needed to be quarantined, and tried to beat it with a supportive care regimen.

We're also apparently ignoring the rat that Chim took with him that was cured in the previous episode. And the fact that antibodies and vaccines can be extracted from organisms that survive an infection like CCHF and at least try to come up with a treatment while keeping Bobby on supportive care. There were just so many ways Bobby could have been ill and survived.

Hell, if you wanted to shake up the 118 like Tim claimed he wanted, you can open up space for a new captain without killing Bobby. Give him a CEI. Have him promoted up the brass so he's out of the firehouse. Force him back to Hotshots. Let him retire out to the country. I don't know, pick something. You don't have to shatter the firehouse like that for the sake of "shaking things up." This is just being destructive for the sake of being destructive.

And THEN, the follow up to all of this was that, for all Bobby was the head of the 118, his funeral was a token few minutes at the very end of the next episode, an episode in which the audience is strung along by the jailed mother's baby maybe-maybe-not being alive. Even if people weren't comparing that plot to Bobby, the show spends an entire episode building hope that this mother might be right, and her baby might be alive, only for it all to not be true. And the point is driven home by (what little we saw of) the funeral. There's no time given for the audience to fully grieve, or to really dig into how the core A-shift are feeling other than "bad."

I will also add, that for anyone who is involved any more than the GA, the April Fools' post with the leaked script page of Bobby being buried alive felt particularly cruel. It's one thing to do silly stuff, but to joke about a character being alive when you're fully planning on not doing that? That's getting into the realm of emotional manipulation, not harmless fun. Especially when there's a lot of speculation regarding them shooting multiple turnout coats on the back of the engine during the leak. Like, all in all, it was bad decisions exacerbated by bad taste.

This was supposed to be the show where we could trust that they would save each other and the victims, but that all got thrown out for the sake of making waves. And the character plots were essentially nonexistent. The things that sucked me in to this show through Tumblr and kept me watching are just...gone. I don't want an emergency drama that's all cases-of-the-week, I want a family that cares about each other and grows and loves.

Peter Krause deserved better and Bobby Nash deserved better.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/12/17/dastar-dly-deeds/#roast-in-piss-sonny-bono

In 1976, Congress set fire to the country's libraries; in 1998, they did it again. Today, in 2024, the flames have died down, and out of the ashes a new public domain is growing. Happy Public Domain Day 2025 to all who celebrate!

For most of US history, copyright was something you had to ask for. To copyright a work, you'd send a copy to the Library of Congress and they'd issue you a copyright. Not only did that let you display a copyright mark on your work – so people would know they weren't allowed to copy it without your permission – but if anyone wanted to figure out who to ask in order to get permission to copy or adapt a work, they could just go look up the paperwork at the LoC.

In 1976, Congress amended the Copyright Act to eliminate the "formality" of copyright registration. Now, all creative works of human authorship were copyrighted "at the moment of fixation" – the instant you drew, typed, wrote, filmed, or recorded them. From a toddler's nursery-school finger-painting to a graffiti mural on a subway car, every creative act suddenly became an article of property.

But whose property? That was on you to figure out, before you could copy, publish, perform, or preserve the work, because without registration, permissions had to start with a scavenger hunt for the person who could grant it. Congress simultaneously enacted a massive expansion of property rights, while abolishing the title registry that spelled out who owned what. As though this wasn't enough, Congress reached back in time and plopped an extra 20 years' onto the copyrights of existing works, even ones whose authors were unknown and unlocatable.

For the next 20 years, creative workers, archivists, educators and fans struggled in the face of this regime of unknowable property rights. After decades of well-documented problems, Congress acted again: they made it worse.

In 1998, Congress passed the Sonny Bono Copyright Act, AKA the Mickey Mouse Preservation Act, AKA the Copyright Term Extension Act. The 1998 Act tacked another 20 years onto copyright terms, but not just for works that were still in copyright. At the insistence of Disney, Congress actually yanked works out of the public domain – works that had been anthologized, adapted and re-issued – and put them back into copyright for two more decades. Copyright stretched to the century-plus "life plus 70 years" term. Nothing entered the public domain for the next 20 years.

So many of my comrades in the fight for the public domain were certain that this would happen again in 2018. In 2010, e-book inventor and Project Gutenberg founder Michael S Hart and I got into a friendly email argument because he was positive that in 2018, Congress would set fire to the public domain again. When I insisted that there was no way this could happen given the public bitterness over the 1998 Act, he told me I was being naive, but said he hoped that I was right.

Michael didn't live to see it, but in 2019, the public domain opened again. It was an incredible day:

https://archive.org/details/ClosingKeynoteForGrandReopeningOfThePublicDomainCoryDoctorowAtInternetArchive

No one has done a better job of chronicling the fortunes of our fragile, beautiful, bounteous public domain than Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle of Duke University's Center for the Study of the Public Domain. Every year from 2010-2019, Boyle and Jenkins chronicled the works that weren't entering the public domain because of the 1998 Act, making sure we knew what had been stolen from our cultural commons. In so many cases, these works disappeared before their copyrights expired, for example, the majority of silent films are lost forever.

Then, in 2019, Jenkins and Boyle got to start cataloging the works that were entering the public domain, most of them from 1923 (copyright is complicated, so not everything that entered the public domain in 2019 was from that year):

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2019/

Every year since, they've celebrated a new bumper crop. Last year, we got Mickey Mouse!

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey

In addition to numerous other works – by Woolf, Hemingway, Doyle, Christie, Proust, Hesse, Milne, DuBois, Frost, Chaplin, Escher, and more:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/20/em-oh-you-ess-ee/#sexytimes

Now, 2024 was a fantastic year for the public domain, but – as you'll see in the 2025 edition of the Public Domain Day post – 2025 is even better:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2025/

So what's entering the public domain this year? Well, for one thing, there's more of the stuff from last year, which makes sense: if Hemingway's first books entered the PD last year, then this year, we'll the books he wrote next (and this will continue every year until we catch up with Hemingway's tragic death).

There are some big hits from our returning champions, like Woolf's To the Lighthouse and A Farewell to Arms from Hemingway. Jenkins and Boyle call particular attention to one book: Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury, its title taken from a public domain work by Shakespeare. As they write, Faulkner spoke eloquently about the nature of posterity and culture:

[Humanity] is immortal, not because he alone among creatures has an inexhaustible voice, but because he has a soul, a spirit capable of compassion and sacrifice and endurance…The poet’s voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail.

The main attraction on last year's Public Domain Day was the entry of Steamboat Willie – the first Mickey Mouse cartoon – into the public domain. This year, we're getting a dozen new Mickey cartoons, including the first Mickey talkie:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mickey_Mouse_(film_series)#1929

Those 12 shorts represent a kind of creative explosion for the Disney Studios. Those early Mickey cartoons were, each and every one, a hybrid of new copyrighted works and the public domain. The backbone of each Mickey short was a beloved, public domain song, with Mickey's motion synched to the beat (animators came to call this "mickey mousing"). In 1929, there was a huge crop of public domain music that anyone could use this way:

Blue Danube, Pop Goes the Weasel, Yankee Doodle, Here We Go Round the Mulberry Bush, Ach Du Lieber Augustin, Listen to the Mocking Bird, A-Hunting We Will Go, Dixie, The Girl I Left Behind Me, a tune known as the snake charmer song, Coming Thru the Rye, Mary Had a Little Lamb, Auld Lang Syne, Aloha ‘Oe, Turkey in the Straw, My Bonnie Lies Over the Ocean, Habanera and Toreador Song from Carmen, Lizst’s Hungarian Rhapsody No. 2, and Goodnight, Ladies.

These were recent compositions, songs that were written and popularized in the lifetimes of the parents and grandparents who took their kids to the movies to see Mickey shorts like "The Barn Dance," "The Opry House" and "The Jazz Fool." The ability to plunder this music at will was key to the success of Mickey Mouse and Disney. Think of all the Mickeys and Disneys we've lost by locking up the public domain for the past half-century!

This year, we're getting some outstanding new old music for our public domain. The complexities of copyright terms mean that compositions from 1929 are entering the public domain, but we're only getting recordings from 1924. 1924's outstanding recordings include:

George Gershwin performing Rhapsody in Blue, Jelly Roll Morton playing Shreveport Stomp, and an early recording from contralto and civil rights icon Marian Anderson, who is famous for her 1939 performance to an integrated audience of over 75,000 people at the Lincoln Memorial. Anderson’s 1924 recording is of the spiritual Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen.

While the compositions include Singin' in the Rain, Ain't Misbehavin', An American in Paris, Bolero, (What Did I Do to Be So) Black and Blue, Tiptoe Through the Tulips, Happy Days Are Here Again, What Is This Thing Called, Love?, Am I Blue? and many, many more.

On the art front, we're getting Salvador Dali's earliest surrealist masterpieces, like Illumined Pleasures, The Accommodations of Desire, and The Great Masturbator. Dali's contemporaries are not so lucky: after a century, the early history of the works of Magritte are so muddy that it's impossible to say whether they are in or out of copyright.

But there's plenty of art with clearer provenance that we can welcome into the public domain this year, most notably, Popeye and Tintin. As the first Popeye and Tintin comics go PD, so too do those characters.

The idea that a fictional character can have a copyright separate from the stories they appear in is relatively new, and it's weird and very stupid. Courts have found that the Batmobile is a copyrightable character (Batman won't enter the public domain until 2035).

Copyright for characters is such a muddy, gross, weird idea. The clearest example of how stupid this gets comes from Sherlock Holmes, whose canon spans many years. The Doyle estate – a rent-seeking copyright troll – claimed that Holmes wouldn't enter the public domain until every Holmes story was in the public domain (that's this year, incidentally!).

This didn't fly, so their next gambit was to claim copyright over those aspects of Holmes's character that were developed later in the stories. For example, they claimed that Holmes didn't show compassion until the later stories, and, on that basis, sued the creators of the Enola Holmes TV show for depicting a gender-swapped Sherlock who wasn't a total dick:

https://www.theguardian.com/books/2020/dec/22/lawsuit-copyright-warmer-sherlock-holmes-dismissed-enola-holmes

As the Enola lawyers pointed out in their briefs, this was tantamount to a copyright over emotions: "Copyright law does not allow the ownership of generic concepts like warmth, kindness, empathy, or respect, even as expressed by a public domain character – which, of course, belongs to the public, not plaintiff."

When Mickey entered the public domain last year, Jenkins did an excellent deep dive into which aspects of Mickey's character and design emerged when:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/mickey/

Jenkins uses this year's entry of Tintin and Popeye into the public domain to further explore the subject of proprietary characters.

Even though copyright extends to characters, it only covers the "copyrightable" parts of those characters. As the Enola lawyers wrote, the generic character traits (their age, emotional vibe, etc) are not protected. Neither is anything "trivial" or "minuscule" – for example, if a cartoonist makes a minor alteration to the way a character's pupils or eyes are drawn, that's a minor detail, not a copyrightable element.

The biggest impediment to using public domain characters isn't copyright, it's trademark. Trademark is very different from copyright: foundationally, trademark is the right to protect your customers from being deceived by your competitors. Coke can use trademark to stop Pepsi from selling its sugary drinks in Coke cans – not because it owns the word "Coke" or the Coke logo, but because it has been deputized to protect Coke drinkers from being tricked into buying not-Coke, thinking that they're getting the true Black Waters of American Imperialism.

Companies claim trademarks over cartoon characters all the time, and license those trademarks on food, clothing, toys, and more (remember Popeye candy cigarettes?).

Indeed, Hearst Holdings claims a trademark over Popeye in many traditional categories, like cartoons, amusement parks, ads and clothes. They're also in the midst of applying for a Popeye NFT trademark (lol).

Does that mean you can't use Popeye in any of those ways? Nope! All you need to do is prominently mention that your use of Popeye is unofficial, not associated with Hearst, and dispel any chance of confusion. A unanimous Supreme Court decision (in Dastar) affirm your right to do so. You can also use Popeye in the title of your unauthorized Popeye comic, thanks to a case called Rogers v Grimaldi.

This all applies to Tintin, too – a big deal, given that Tintin is managed by a notorious copyright bully who delights in cruelly terrorizing fan artists. Tintin is joined in the public domain by Buck Rogers, another old-timey character whose owners are scumbag rent-seekers.

Congress buried the public domain alive in 1976, and dumped a load of gravel over its grave in 1998, but miraculously, we've managed to exhume the PD, and it has been revived and is showing signs of rude health.

2024 saw the blockbuster film adaptation of Wicked, based on the public domain Oz books. It also saw the publication of James, a celebrated retelling of Twain's Huck Finn from the perspective of Huck's enslaved sidekick.

This is completely normal. It's how art was made since time immemorial. The 40 year experiment in life without a public domain is at an end, and not a minute too soon.

You can piece together a complete-as-possible list of 2025's public domain (including the Marx Brothers' Cocoanuts, Disney's Skeleton Dance, and Del Ruth's Gold Diggers of Broadway) here:

https://onlinebooks.library.upenn.edu/cce/

[revolutionsingingintherainnn]

Through Their Eyes ༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

Summary: lando and yn’s relationship through other people’s eyes

𝄞 ln x reader 𓇢𓆸

𝄞 fluff 𓇢𓆸

masterlist ☾☼

charles’ version

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

carlos

carlos had known lando since he was nineteen. being teammates with him made carlos realise that they had a lot of common interests, and their sense of humour matched, and in the blink of an eye, lando had become one of carlos' best friends. there wasn't a day that went by without carlos or lando talking to each other, and there wasn't a day that went by without the two learning something new about each other.

carlos prided himself on the fact that he could read lando pretty well. y/n was lando's age and had joined mclaren as part of their hospitality intern. she was not supposed to have much interaction with the drivers, especially considering that she was an intern. her main jobs on some days was to make coffee runs.

fortunately, the coffee runs were what brought lando and y/n closer.

"coffee for you, mr sainz, and coffee for you, mr norris," she had said when she put two cups down in front of them.

carlos had watched as lando was about to make a joke but seemed lost as he stared at the woman and then back at the cup, and back at the woman.

he decided to be a good friend in that moment and save the awestruck boy, "unfortunately, lando doesn't have coffee. he only likes milk. he's still a little boy,"

y/n had laughed, and carlos had watched again with a smirk as lando stared at her with the biggest smile on his face. "i'll be back with a glass of milk then,"

it had become a running joke between the three of them, and soon she had started accompanying them to races as well. in the two years that she had interned with mclaren, she had spoken to almost driver on the grid, and carlos had watched how y/n and lando had slowly become friends. though, friends would be a more appropriate word instead of saying 'lando followed her around and just stood behind her, lost in his daydreams while she spoke to the drivers'.

carlos had watched how lando was always including her in conversations where she stood near the wall, how he pushed her to give her opinion. he had watched how lando slowly helped her build her confidence as she began to become more sure of herself and her abilities.

carlos had also watched how she was always the first one to tell lando that he had done a good job. she sat with him whenever he reviewed all the places he went wrong and had to be better at. she helped him understand the right places for making jokes, and the kind of jokes. he had watched how y/n had slowly helped build lando's confidence.

carlos and lando had a similar humour, but he found very quickly that lando and y/n's humour were exactly the same. they had inside jokes and eyes that laughed every time they looked at each other. they had soft touches and fingers that always grasped the air in the end.

the night of one of the races, when people had left, and only a few were remaining, carlos had been looking for lando to tell him about the golfing range that they could try out during the two weekends they had free. he had walked around looking his friend, even calling out his name. eventually, he found him sitting on the curb of the track with y/n.

they had their masks off, and were sitting close to each other. considering that they were the only two people around, carlos had not reminded the two to wear their masks.

the two had been laughing and giggling and leaning, and carlos walked a little closer to listen to what they were talking about.

"what'cha gonna do for the next two weeks?" lando had asked. it was quiet, and they were quieter, but carlos could still hear them.

"actually, i've been so excited to tell you about it! so, you know how i joined mclaren as an intern, and well, i'm still at a beginner level because i told you that i didn't want to do this forever?" she had seemed excited.

lando had only nodded, still staring at her. it made carlos wonder if lando was actually listening to what was being said.

"so, i've been doing some research, because i finally figured out what i'm going to do with my life. my parents only let me do this because i was interested in formula one, and i wanted a break after high school. though, admittedly, the break was supposed to be just a gap year, ended up being two-three years, but that's fine-"

y/n was cut off, because lando had finally gotten the courage and kissed her. carlos' mouth fell open. lando had confided in him about his crush on y/n, but carlos knew long before that. hell, carlos had known from the very first moment possible.

she had kissed him back, and carlos turned around with a smile on his face as he gave them some privacy.

just as he was leaving, he heard y/n's voice sounding heartbroken, and stopped short.

"lan, i'm going back to university. that's what i wanted to tell you."

"what?"

"i was talking to the drivers the other day about their childhood and what they faced, what you went through. max with his dad, lewis with the bullying, all of that. i realised then that i wanted to study child psychology. i want to be a child psychologist."

"oh. so, when are you leaving?"

"i gave my resignation letter this morning. i found a good university in london too. i applied a while back, and i got in."

"you got in."

"i got in, lan!" she was trying to be excited, carlos knew.

"that's amazing, y/n, congratulations,"

carlos turned around to peek, just a little bit, and saw the two embracing. he watched as lando tried to hide his tears, and y/n, who couldn't stop smiling. he watched as lando found his eyes, and carlos didn't know what to do in that moment.

"it doesn't have to change anything. i mean, i know i won't be there for race weekends and at the mtc and stuff, but i'm here for you." y/n said.

the two pulled back. y/n frowned at the tears on lando's face, and gently wiped them off. carlos feared what was going to happen to their friendship now.

"and, i mean, if the kiss wasn't a fluke, i'd like it again. and maybe every time i see you next?" y/n said, smiling, hoping, and carlos sighed in relief. yeah, the kids were going to be okay.

he could hear lando laughing as he walked back inside. lando was going to marry y/n, carlos could bet his life on it.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

daniel

when daniel had joined mclaren, there was one thing that he saw and was sure of right from the first day: no one could handle lando norris like y/n y/l/n.

he had spoken to her, and was good acquaintances with her. he knew that she had been working with mclaren for a year. lando and y/n seemed to be better friends than lando and carlos were, and that was a tough duo to break.

daniel felt awkward with lando at first. the two had barely anything in common, and combine it with their ten year age gap, it felt almost impossible to bond with the boy over something. both of them felt awkward at first, and both of them knew it.

y/n was perceptive, though, daniel had to agree. she had forced lando and daniel into a room and gave them an hour. that did wonders for the new teammates, because by the end of it, they had become so much more comfortable with each other and just couldn't stop laughing.

that was when daniel started noticing more about lando and y/n's friendship. the way that she was always the first one there to congratulate him, and the last person he saw before he left the garage for a race. the way that he always looked for her, even when he was working.

at first, daniel couldn't understand the impact that a young 20 year old woman could have on a young 20 year old man. their lives were just starting, yet somehow, with them, it felt like their lives had reached the stage of contentment with each other.

when lando first launched quadrant, daniel had watched how y/n had surprised him with wearing the merch and proudly showing it off. he had watched and smiled at how lando had gotten so excited, he had picked her up as he cheered, "you're wearing quadrant! you're wearing my merch!"

she was there for all of the races at first, in the mclaren uniform. daniel had watched how she would talk to him before every race. daniel didn't know what they were talking about, but it always had a laugh and it always ended up with a hug. he honestly thought that y/n was a witch, with the way she could calm down the hyperactive boy. no one that daniel had seen had that effect on lando the way y/n did.

and then, after a point, y/n stopped coming to races. and, daniel wondered if lando and her had had a falling out. he didn't know if he should approach his teammate about it, because it could be a sensitive topic.

two races gone by, and y/n hadn't come. lando had looked upset during those weekends, and he always disappeared right before the race and right after. after one particular race, daniel decided to suck it up and ask.

"why doesn't y/n come anymore?" he blurted out. it wasn't the way he wanted to go about it.

lando smiled softly, and daniel wasn't sure what that smile meant, "she quit. she went back to studying. goes to a university in london."

daniel didn't know that.

"are you guys still in touch?" daniel tried to be as casual as possible, but he wasn't sure if he was doing a good job.

lando's smile got bigger, and daniel took it as a good sign, "yeah, we're in touch. we talk before and after races, and pretty much any time that we're free,"

"that's good to hear," the conversation had ended there.

daniel now knew what his teammate did before and after races when he disappeared.

the silverstone race was when he had finally seen y/n again. lando hadn't seen her yet, and y/n had looked jittery. spotting her, daniel approached her.

"hey, i haven't seen you in so long!" daniel exclaimed.

the two hugged briefly, "oh my god, it's so good to see you! i've just been so busy with uni. finally a race that i could attend,"

"missed us, did you?" daniel teased.

"so so so much," y/n said, and the two laughed.

daniel watched from over y/n's head as lando, who had initially been talking to one of his mechanics pause and turn around, as if he had heard her laugh. daniel continued his conversation with y/n, while also watching lando's reaction. he was looking around, a frown on his face. if daniel had to compare lando's reaction to something, it would be to a dog who could suddenly sniff his favourite treat from somewhere.

just as y/n was about to say something, daniel watched lando finally spotting her in her ln4 merch, before practically screaming, "y/n!"

y/n turned, her eyes lighting up, and lando ran from the other side, dodging people. daniel took a few steps back, wanting to give the two friends some space.

lando's arms had immediately wrapped around her waist, and he picked her up. his face was buried in her neck, and all he said was her name. okay, friends definitely did not hug like that.

pulling back from the hug, lando kissed her. daniel's mouth fell open in shock. y/n had kissed him back, before she pulled away, laughing. lando put her down on the floor again, and pressed kisses all over her face, whispering in between, "you're here, you're here, you're actually here, i'm so happy right now,"

noticing a cameraman approaching, daniel softly said, "cameras, guys,"

taking a deep breath, lando took a step back, folding his arms, "thanks, dan,"

"no problem. now, wanna tell me what's going on here?" his teasing tone only made the two grin bigger.

"we started dating my last night in mclaren," y/n said softly.

"i bet lando cried. finally kissed a girl, didn't you?"

"i did actually cry," lando said, and the three laughed.

kyle, lando's mechanic called out, and daniel bid goodbyes to lando and y/n. he turned heading back, looking back just once to see lando's arm across y/n's shoulders, and y/n's arm circling his waist as they walked to where kyle was.

daniel hadn't seen lando look that happy since y/n had stopped coming for races. something about him had changed. he looked more confident and pleased. he looked as if he could hold the world on his shoulders if he wanted to.

his confidence was seen on the track as well. despite losing two places, lando was happier than most, and daniel knew that just the presence of y/n could have that effect on him.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

max f

max remembered the day lando had called him, excited to tell him about a girl he had met and how carlos, she, and lando had joked around, and how beautiful her laugh was.

he remembered the blush on lando's cheeks and how excited he was. he denied liking her at that time, but no one ever called their best friend to talk about a woman for forty five minutes just to later claim that he didn't have a crush on her.

max had been apprehensive of the woman at first. lando was new to formula one, and he was bound to get famous. from what lando had told max, she was an intern, the same age as them. lando was a trusting fellow, and max felt the need to look out for his friend.

the first time lando had introduced y/n and max to each other, the two were just friends. though, the first meeting proved that max had no reason to be worried. y/n was quick with her witty responses like lando always was. she put up a good fight every time. their banter was entertaining, and y/n knew just how to keep lando on his toes.

they understood each other quite well too. max remembered when after a particularly bad race, the two were on a facetime call, where lando was explaining all that he could have done better, and max giving his inputs. their conversation had been interrupted when a knock on lando's hotel room was heard.

"might be carlos," lando had mumbled, before leaving max on his bed, staring at the ceiling. max could still hear everything, though.

"carlos, i don't feel like-" he heard lando's voice cut off.

"surprise!" a woman's voice, y/n's, was heard.

"what are you doing here?" lando had asked.

"well, i read somewhere that cookies and brownies fixed everything. but, i couldn't find enough ingredients for one particular thing, so i made brookies!" her voice was louder, and max assumed that she had entered the room.

suddenly he saw her face pop up on the phone, "hi max!"

"hey, y/n!" max waved at her.

"you baked me something?"

"uh huh. your flight isn't till nine, and i thought that i could help you pack since you're terrible at it, and max, you and me could listen to music and dance around and eat brookies!"

they had done exactly that, y/n and lando trying their best to include max in all their conversations as well. they jumped around, laughed, and ate brookies throughout. max yelled at lando to save some for him, but lando had pretended to not hear, and then y/n had promised to make more for him. lando was smiling again, and even though max knew that he still felt bitter about the race, it had distracted him.

it was silent for a few seconds, only the music playing, when max checked what was going on. he stopped himself from saying anything when he saw lando and y/n locked in a hug. his face was buried in her neck, and her fingers were in his hair. max didn't know what either of them were saying, but lando had a tight grip on her, his knuckles turning white, and y/n just held him.

max knew their relationship would change soon.

and it had.

after the two had gotten together, lando began coming to london more often, even if it was to spend time with y/n. he invited y/n everywhere, whether they went for quadrant shoots, or meeting new people for new business partnerships.

she would come with her textbooks and her laptop, insisting on studying while they did their thing. for the most part, she did study. during the plane ride to wherever they were going, lando and y/n would sit side by side, sharing wired earphones, listening to music while y/n studied. lando would usually stare at her, or play with her hair. during shoots, y/n would be just as enthusiastic as lando, always pushing him for new ideas.

she trusted him insanely too. any time he would drive at a speed that even scared him, max had seen the way y/n would be carefree, throwing her arms in the air and enjoying the wind.

y/n would even help out with designing lando's helmets. the two had a connection that max didn't understand that well. they brought out the best in each other and knew just how to handle the worst too.

max had seen lando more worried about whether y/n had eaten during exam season than he generally was about himself. max had seen lando care for something other than racing and quadrant. it was new and refreshing, and max knew it was a forever kind of deal.

it always was a forever kind of deal with lando and y/n.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

alex and george

alex and george had sort-of grown up with lando. they had raced each other in f2, and had become quick friends. lando used to look upto alex and george, and the boys knew about it.

they had known lando well when he was a young boy, had seen the way he drove, the way he acted, the way he was in general. they had seen his cocky attitude, and as much of a show he put up in front of the media, they knew that he looked upto almost driver that were on the grid as he tried to make a place for himself in between them.

they had seen how low his confidence was, despite being outgoing and getting along with almost everyone he met. he had been their topic of conversation many times, with the two trying to figure out how they could be there for their friend.

it had helped that lando had found a true friend in carlos, and then daniel. it had changed lando, a positive change that both, alex and george were incredibly happy to see. he still blamed himself after races, but carlos, a veteran, reassuring lando had had a greater effect than george and alex. the two men understood why. they had the same amount of experience in formula one as lando, so trying to convince him that he had done a good job wasn't as effective.

lando had really changed, though, after he met y/n. y/n was outgoing, like lando, and she could talk a mile a minute. she seemed to really give max competition when it came to yapping. but, the best thing that she ever did was make lando smile more often. george and alex were grateful for that.

y/n had a way of correcting lando or telling him new information without making him feel dumb. george and alex knew how insecure lando was for never finishing his schooling, unlike oscar. it was a shock to alex and george when lando told them random facts throughout the day. it was a good kind of shock, but a shock nonetheless. they knew almost immediately that it was the work of y/n.

lando had always been humble. online, he was arrogant. but, he knew what he needed to work on, he knew everything he could about his, and he always wanted to know more. george and alex had often teased him about leaving the last on saturdays after the qualifying session.

but, y/n had stayed with him, had encouraged him, and had showed him that even if he failed, he was still good enough. y/n showed him that even if he lost ten positions, he was still good enough as a driver, and as a racer. he deserved to be in f1, something that a lot of people, including george and alex agreed on.

over the years, lando had gotten good at saying what was expected of him. it was often things that he would go and directly tell people to their faces, but always play it off with the media. lando never forgot to remind alex and george how much he respected them, even if they told them in private. they knew that that was lando's way of making sure that they knew he was being sincere.

the world didn't understand it as much, and the media loved to twist all of their words. so, y/n helped him understand. and, y/n helped him grow. and, even though lando was always a good person, y/n made him better everyday.

alex and george often spoke about the difference five years, six years had made in lando. and they could agree that lando was still the same person, but just a little more grown up and a little more focused. it was his own doing, with some help from y/n.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

max v

padel with lando was one of his favourite things to do. lando was competitive, and he made jokes, and he was arrogant and deprecating, and somehow all of it just fit well.

they had a weekend free before the next race, and what better way could there have been than to participate in another sport with the same person who was the contender for the world driver's championship?

they had played for hours, and after the two had completely exhausted themselves, lando invited max over to his apartment for lunch. agreeing, max texted kelly about his lunch plans with lando, and the two drove to lando's apartment their individual cars.

parking, the two went up the elevator, laughing and giggling and gossiping on their way over. just as lando was about to unlock his front door, he paused and turned to max.

"my girlfriend is a little mad at me right now. i kinda paid off part of her university tuition and i didn't tell her, and now she found out, and i'm basically-"

"-fucked. you're basically fucked."

lando opened his mouth to retaliate, but agreed with max. he was fucked.

unlocking the door, lando called out, "babe, we're home!"

y/n appeared from the hallway, "hi, max! how was padel?"

max watched as lando moved towards her with his arms open, almost like a routine of when he comes back home, but y/n dodged his hands and stepped away. lando looked like a puppy who had gotten kicked, and as much as max wanted to laugh at the expression, he did feel a little bad for his friend.

"hey! um, padel was good. i beat lando, 5 games out of 8," he said.

y/n laughed, "that's wonderful. i'll get your lunch set up, so why don't you relax?"

she still hadn't said a word to lando, and as she turned to head towards the kitchen, he watched as lando followed her like a dog on a leash.

max settled on the couch, and tilted his head back, closing his eyes. he tried not to listen, to not eavesdrop on his friend's very private conversation. but they were loud, so technically, it wasn't his fault.

"baby, i'm sorry, i was trying to help!" lando's urgent voice could be heard. he was speaking softly, but in the quiet house, it was still loud enough for max to hear.

"helping means washing the dishes or getting me supplies for my exams! helping does not mean paying off my tuition!" y/n's hushed whisper came next. she was angry.

"but, why can't i just pay for the tuition? i've got the money, you and i are going to end up married anyways! what's mine is yours!" max had to admit, this was probably the first time he had heard lando so sure on marrying someone.

"exactly! you've got the money. not me. lando, i need to be able to survive on my own, and my tuition is my problem. not yours."

"you are surviving on your own! just 'cause i'm here doesn't mean that you can't lean on me for stuff!"

max heard y/n let out a groan of frustration, "i'm not as rich as you are, lando. i'm not a celebrity or a model, i don't have the money. i'm studying to be a child psychologist. this is my future, and my college, including my tuition fees, is my responsibility."

"yeah, well, you are my future. so, you're my responsibility, and that includes your college and your tuition fees and literally everything else in the world." max smiled. maybe lando would not have to sleep on the couch tonight.

it was quiet for a few seconds, the only sound came from the sizzling of the pan.

"darling, i'm sorry i paid your tuition fees without asking or telling you first. you were stressed out about it the other day, and you were telling me how you would have to take extra shifts at the diner, and i just thought that if i have the money for it, why can't i just get rid of that stress of yours? i really just wanted to help, nothing else." lando's voice was soft, and max strained his ears to listen.

"i feel like i'm taking advantage of you," y/n whispered softly. why were they talking so quietly? max couldn't hear a thing properly.

"advantage of me? love, no. you deserve so much more than what i can offer you. i hate that i have to be away for so long because of my job, but you've never complained and you've always supported me. sometimes i'm scared that i'm not showing you just how much i love you,"

"that's why you paid off my tuition. 'cause you wanted to prove that you love me, but you couldn't figure out how to open your mouth and say it to me,"

lando laughed. that was a good sign. it was silent again. maybe they were hugging? max wished he had a visual as well. and some popcorn.

"forgive me?" lando asked softly.

"only if you have ramen with me tonight, and watch tangled with me again,"

he expected lando to groan. he had listened to lando rant about how the movie was ingrained in his brain and how the songs were stuck in his head constantly because of his girlfriend's obsession with the movie.

"deal. i love you," lando said.

"i love you more,"

"not possible,"

"watch me,"

max smiled. lando was not sleeping on the couch tonight, that's for sure.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

oscar

there was time before the first practice race was supposed to start. oscar sat on his side of the garage, but was quickly getting bored. the mechanics and the race engineers were talking and discussing, and oscar really tried to listen to them and participate in the conversation, but all he wanted to do was go out and drive.

sighing, oscar decided to find lando. if there was anyone who could distract him, it was lando. moving over to his garage, oscar looked for lando, and found him standing with his race engineer, will. the two were in deep conversation about something. lando's shoulders were tense, and his fingers were digging into his arms as he had them crossed across his chest.

oscar sighed. he probably shouldn't disturb him, then. it looked like they were talking about something important, and it's not like oscar had anything specific in mind when he came to find lando. he just wanted a distraction and laugh about something, anything.

just as he turned to go back to his side of the garage again, oscar saw y/n. he smiled, and was about to walk over to her so that he could at least strike a conversation with her.

oscar and y/n were good friends. they had a lot of similar interests and often spoke or hung out outside of lando. lily and y/n also got along really well, and that was just another pro in his list.

just as he was about to go talk to y/n, he stopped short, as he watched her open her bag and rummage through it. the paddock pass was hanging from her neck, and the orange cap she wore almost made her invisible to the media.

finally pulling out, what he assumed was a fan, he watched as y/n weaved her way through the crowd and stood behind lando, who was still in a deep conversation with will.

oscar worried for a second. he knew lando well, and he knew y/n well. he knew that lando hated to be disturbed when he was working or when he was focused on something, especially if it was related to improving his performance. he also knew that while y/n always meant well, sometimes, she couldn't figure out the right timings for things. while oscar knew that lando would not yell at her or anything, he still worried that lando would accidentally say something in the heat of the moment that he would regret later, but it would inevitably hurt y/n. she was sensitive and she felt too much for everyone. he didn't want y/n to be hurt.

he stayed still, though. he wasn't sure if it was his place to interfere. it wasn't his relationship, and he was friends with both of them. so, he stayed where he was, and he watched.

he watched as y/n stood behind lando. he watched as will noticed her, smiling just slightly, before turning his attention back to lando. he watched as lando didn't seem to notice that.

he moved a little closer, just so he could make out a little bit of what they were saying.

he watched as y/n started fanning lando, a mischievous grin on her face. he watched as lando's shoulders sagged in relief from the cool air, and then watched him tense up. he watched as lando turned around, wanting to find out where the cool air was coming from, and was met with y/n and her fan.

the couple were laughing now, and lando hooked an arm around her waist and trapped her against him. oscar could see both of y/n's arms against lando's chest as she leaned back to look at him, her hand still clutching the fan.

he watched as the two spoke, far too softly for oscar to hear them. but he saw the smiles on their faces, and the love in their eyes. the fans called him oscar "heart eyes" piastri whenever he looked at lando. if the fans saw lando and y/n right now, "heart eyes" would be an understatement.

he watched as lando pressed a kiss to her lips, and he watched as y/n tucked herself against his chest. he watched as lando and will got back to their conversation. lando's hands were running up and down her back, and oscar watched as lando's shoulders relaxed, and how he wasn't grinding his teeth anymore, and how all the tension that he seemed to keep in his body almost all the time melted away.

in that moment, oscar realised that the things he knew about his teammate/friend and his friend, they knew it better. they knew each other better, and they were stronger like that.

‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.

i may have messed up the timeline a bit somewhere in the start. but, this is one of my favourites that i've ever written! this is my prompt list, so y'all can select a number, give me a driver and i will write it as soon as possible! i also have a google form for a taglist if anyone's interested! you can sent in your requests here :)

[dilf-docs]

I Can Fix Her (No Really I Can)

jackson!joel miller x younger fem!reader

summary: jackson's loud mouthed spoiled princess has suddenly gone quiet. what or who could be behind such miracle?

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (20s/50s), pwp, p. in v., oral (m. and f. receiving), brat taming, dacryphilia, pussy spanking, fingering, humiliation kink, dom!joel, sub!joel if u squint, soft!joel (look at that switch sandwhich fr), brat!reader (she's annoying and v mean, you've been warned), denial is a river so take this before the world mourns joel miller again

word count: 5,391 words

side note: new layout my citizens! will eventually update all of the blog but as for now, enjoy this one and the masterlist. quick thing, i just wanted to say that i had a very shitty week and for the life of me, can't find a way to make ttdik pt. 4 not oversaturated with angst bc i wish all men a very pleasant die or how to connect what i've written so far. note that this was kinda rushed; i feel confident of some parts and not the whole thing. just hoping it works for y'all! (based on this request)

Joel Miller isn't who he used to be before.

Life in Jackson has made him... soft. This version of him, tired of a life of killing and running, tainted with blood and regret. But he's now an uncle and a father. Well, used to be. Ever since Ellie had found out the truth and wanted nothing to do with him, he had somewhat become downright pathetic. Joel could be both Jackson's most useful man, even at his age, while also being their biggest wretch. Ah, yes: Joel Miller, the man who lived in the house down the street, alone and certainly worth the townsfolk's pity.

Maybe that's why you couldn't bother to be nice to him. In your eyes, a man like Joel just didn't deserve your time or respect.

But it wasn't personal, really. He happened to, unfortunately, be in charge of your patrol. That, in your eyes, made him your enemy: a person to be defied and picked apart. And the worst part is, in his current position, Joel just didn't have the energy to fight you back.

"You want me to cross that wearing this?" your protest comes in the form of a whiny pitch. "Ew, no. I'd rather be dead"

At least dead, you wouldn't be a bother. He rolls his eyes, rubbing his face tiredly. The rest of the group watches the interaction in silence, expressions pretty much the same.

"I promise 'cha, princess. Ya' wouldn't want that"

The nickname should irk you, but you let it pass. It is no news to anyone that you are indeed a princess: Jackson's resident little spoiled brat.

Sheltered from early starts of civilization's downfall, maybe your parents had done more bad than good trying to protect you and settling early on in Jackson. You had grown to be a pampered bitch who made Joel's patience wear thin. Of course, to keep him busy and distracted, Tommy had assigned you to Joel. And while he'd rather not spend his days on a house too big for a person, he too wasn't exactly excited about having to deal with you on your patrol shifts.

(If you could call them that. You did anything but patroling)

You cross your arms, petty. "I'm not moving unless you carry me"

Maybe your need to defy him also came, partly, because of this: the way he's looking at you right now, a quiet rage simmering in those big round brown eyes that remind you of a kicked puppy, but when they burn, they seem like a forest fire, old remnants of the hunter that had been tamed by domestic life and a broken relationship resurfacing.

It excites you.

All your life, people seemed to bend to your will-- a force of nature: to your cruel harsh icy wind. You kept Jackson down at their knees, but it wasn't kindness, rather your shoe up their throats what put them to your feet.

Yet, Joel... he could be a loser to you, but he was probably the only one you'd met to be insane enough to defy you. The only man who didn't succumb to your fluttering eyelashes, pink lips and princess manners. No, he ignored the way you looked at him and your constant begging for attention, leaving the job to those men who seemed to follow your every step, ready to be themselves a carpet for you to step in. He'd roll his eyes and walk past you like you were the most bland, boring and uninteresting thing in the world: not worth a second of his attention. Joel simply wouldn't entertain your spoiled attitude past replying to a few snarky comments.

And that revolted and aroused you in equal parts.

It's not like you could escape your obligation, but perhaps, the bigger reason you chose to not skip patrol like you used to before his arrival, is to see Joel Miller's sinking ships for eyes try to wash over your rebel flame.

"Be free to stay then" he replies, but you don't miss the way his grip on his rifle turns white. "I ain't carryin' no one"

"I can carry you" one of the guys from your group offers.

(You can't remember his name)

"Sure" you chuckle, victory smile dancing on your lips at the sight of him looking above his shoulder in a barely stolen glance, thinking you won't notice.

But you do.

Joel Miller fucking hates you.

After five decades alive, he simply can't stand the idea of breathing the same air as a spoiled little brat like you.

Joel's seen destruction, loss, hopelessness and blood up close, and the thought of you walking around like the world owes you a favor fills him with vitriol.

He's been alive for fifty-six years so he's simply just tired. Too tired to give a damn about your attitude, despite how you manage to press all his buttons every time you open your mouth.

He still remembers the first time he met you, how you laughed like people did before all civilization was destroyed. You walked with a confident strut, boots clicking against Jackson's streets, every step made with determination. Like you knew just where you were going.

He envied you, in a way. After Salt Lake City, he seemed to have lost his path, all in the name of love. Then, that warm feeling had turned cold and cruel like all things in this world ravaged by pain, and he felt even at more loss than the first time he experienced grief.

But you? You lived everyday with a dismissal so cold it seemed like nothing could hurt you.

He missed that part of him who just survived: hardened by the world around him.

But Jackson tamed him. Ellie made him soft.

And then you brought up that old dark part of him: the putrid black liquid that spewed through the cracks of his new character that made him loved by Jackson. The same one that made people fear one of Boston QZ's most brutal smugglers. It was that vicious anger, red on his vision like the ichor that would splatter on his clothes or cover his bruised knuckles.

He hated you for it.

But that was in the past, and Joel Miller simply didn't care.

Yet, you made him care. Outright forced him to.

In a way, it seemed like you enjoyed this: the banter of contained rage and practiced patience, dripping as a leak until it overflew. You'd shot your bratty remarks and petty complains until he'd turn around and see you. Then, you'd smile, like that's all you needed to feel better. Far superior. And he hated it. Knew your little game, and fed into it, even as he told himself he wouldn't. Like a drug: a destroying addiction.

Joel didn't understand why you took the time to enrage him, having even heard once when he was late for patrol (he overslept), how you talked bad about the, in your words, Lonely Pathetic Man From The House On The End Of The Road.

Joel Miller has been patient. God knows he has. But he isn't religious, and was never the type to let things pass by.

No. Joel Miller was born with impel, and no matter how many love he had to give, the world around him constantly reminded him of the power hidden behind the exertion over others, how alive he'd felt with the gift he'd been given by heaven.

He isn't patient. He isn't a fool. He isn't pathetic: and Joel Miller will take matters between his rugged hands.

Tommy had arched an eyebrow first, looking at just his and your name on the patrol schedule.

"What's going on?" he narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his brother.

"Found a cabin deep on the forest" curt, "I'ont need lot'a people to scavenge the place"

In the end, he agreed. Who didn't? You, obviously, the reason so many before him had gotten rid of their obligation of you. To flirt with you at the Tipsy Bison? Hell yeah. To have you in their patrol team? God, no.

"Where is everyone else?" you cross your arms above your chest, bracing yourself because of the weather. "Also, isn't this climate not patrol appropiate?"

Joel's not dumb, of course he knows that-- he can feel his aching joints shiver and bones creak because of the temperature. But he also knows he's sick of your shit.

"Ain't you little Ms. Know it all" he mocks, brushing past you, shoulders clashing with the same harsh force the icy breeze does to your face.

"And you're an asshole" you're quick to counter, "bringing us out here in the cold. If you wanted to kill me, you could've made it easier for both of us and done it way back in Jackson"

He rolls his eyes at your incessant bickering.

"Watch y'er mouth" is all he says, the brat hanging dangerously close to the tip of his tongue.

"I'd rather watch my step, thank you very much" you purse your plush pink lips, annoyed. "Have you seen the size of this roots? I will trip and break myself"

He chuckles at your hyperboles and the way you jump in a rather exaggerated manner, more in amusement than irritation.

"Don't think ya' can handle all'at?" Joel taunts. "Gon' break like a doll?"

Doll. It hangs in the air, like the snowflakes that fall into your hair and his eyebrows, the white fusing with his own.

"I'm strong" but it comes out weak.

"Don't seem like it" he's laughing at you again, a sharp annoyed edge to it. "With all that complainin' ya' do"

You huff, your incredulity condescing in the air.

"What's wrong with that?"

"With bein' annoyin'?" Joel quips.

"With voicing out my concerns"

He's walking ahead of you, yet you see his shoulders slump, like he does when he disagrees.

"Those ain't concerns, jus' moanin' and bitchin'"

It's still inside the fun banter you're carrying, harmless, but for some reason, it strikes you in the face.

"If you can't stand me so much, why don't you quit on me, like the others?"

You may seem cold, but there's that cut that always bleeds. Or it may be the need for something that blurs the line between you and those survivors out there who've outlived the worst a man can endure.

Like Joel.

You just can't help wanting it all.

Joel stops on his tracks at your words, response barely above a whisper:

"'Cause I ain't a quitter"

As if that could bring any sense into what had started the moment he layed eyes on you.

You finally reach your destiny in silence, the old cabin hanging by a thread.

"This looks like shit" you comment out loud.

Joel lets out a laugh, a deep rumbling sound coming out of his chest. For a reason, red dust makes it's way into your warm cheeks.

"No, doll. In this world, this ain't shit. It's decent"

You don't miss the way your breath hitches and heart skips a beat at the petname. He doesn't miss the way his tongue burns and his jeans squeeze at the sight of you: powerless.

God, Joel could go to hell for this. (But he'd probably be fine)

"Decent? You're one to talk" it spills out, your fear attacking the only way you know how when you're nervous.

Bite.

You hate feeling weak. You hate how your own game has turned on you.

It seems, Joel Miller isn't just a pathetic man but one who knows how to play.

(You knew this. But now, it's real, not the image you touch yourself to during nighttime, and it's equally both exciting and scary)

The red desire for hunger is there on his eyes. "What's that s'pposed to mean?"

You tilt your head, tone feigning innocence. "I think you know what I mean"

He paces around the room, like your floral scent is too suffocating and the cold isn't enough to shake the fire that burns inside him.

"Spit it" he dares, stopping midtrack. You remain silent, so he walks over to you, face so close, some spit lands in your face. "I said, spit it"

"I think you're pathetic, Joel Miller" yet, for some reason, your heart wavers. What were you even doing? Never had you doubted yourself once, sometimes even finding pleasure in the wicked cutthroat words you'd spew, but today, as his face stands dangerously close to you, his breath ghosting over your lips as his eyes roam over them and you count his wrinkles, it feels wrong.

"'S that what 'cha think, doll?" he chuckles, leaning forward. His lips barely brush against yours by mistake, yet it's enough to send shivers all over your body. "Wanna know what I think? I think you're da' real pathetic burden here. Fucken annoyin' and unuseful. All you know how ta' do is complain' and be a bitch"

"A bitch?" your voice is loud as your roar back, probably because it's coming into your face with the force of a train. But that's how truth feels, and it hurts like hell. "Did you just call me a bitch?"

He laughs, bitterly so, equally irritated as fascinated by how easy it's to see you crumble.

Joel made you out to be this unbreakable force, but at the end of the day, you're human, just like him.

"And y'called me pathetic, s' I guess we're even"

You look crazy: hair disheveled by the wind, chest going up and down and that same craze look on your eyes.

"Fuck you, Joel Miller" you seethe.

It's a simple comeback. No witty retort, no elaborated plot. Just four words, yet it's the way you said it, venomous, with such hostility, like his presence alone made you sick. Your skin crawl. Like the thought alone of being equals couldn't pass through your thick skull, and you had to get rid of just the concept; an ofense.

You pull back, realizing how truly close you were. You then march to the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

With Joel, there's always a first when it comes to you.

(The first man to catch your attention. The first man to show lack of interest or amusement to your well-known tactics that worked every time. The first man to make your skin crawl like seeing yourself in the mirror. Like you would stare until your image would imprint on your brain, and you'd pick apart every small detail you don't like about you. That was Joel fucking Miller, rolling like thunder, ready to strike over your walls, like he knows where to hit to make you crumble, as if the façade you've built is as much in vain as the hate you carry even with the easy life that's been given to you)

He may be the first man to make you cry.

"Come here!" he shouts, roaring voice reverberating against the walls of the cabin. He swings the door of the bedroom open, finding your satisfied expression as you sit over the old worn out mattress, wiping your tears quickly with a harsh tug of your sweater, coat lying on the dirty floor.

"What?" you ask, as if you hadn't started the fight five seconds ago.

"Ya' think y' can shout and then leave like that?" he spits, "you fucken brat!"

A weird wild spark settles in the pit of your stomach.

"I can do whatever I want"

(The fire. It burns)

He scoffs at your childish response. "Not when y'er under my watch. Like it or not, y'r ma' damn responsability, kid"

Now it's your turn to sneer. "Don't call me that. I'm not a kid"

Of course you fucking weren't: he's got eyes. But goddamn, didn't you act like one all the time?

"Good" his voice adquires a weird tone to it, dropping. "Then strip"

It's like the air's been knocked out of your lungs.

You scoff. "Excuse me?"

"I know you ain't deaf" tone stern, "nor stupid. Are you?"

"Did you just call me stupid?" you raise your voice. Was he going to pull out every single insult from the book? Fair, you think, after you had told him to fuck off in the way you did.

(You were aware your words shoot to kill when you were mad. You had a lot of regrets about that)

"I asked 'cha if ya' were. If there's no answer, I s'ppose that's it"

"I'm not stupid" you counter.

"What?" he's asking you to say it again, like he hasn't heard you.

"You aren't deaf" you repeat his earlier words, eliciting a chuckle out of him.

The windows of the cabin rattle, the cold winter slipping inside the cracks. You shiver yet stand still, not wanting him to misinterpret your body language.

As if you'd ever surrender to him. As if.

"I'm sick of your bullshit" he seethes, "thinkin' ya' can make a clown outta me infront of everyone else, and then look at me like I'm sum piece of meat. Now it's your turn"

"My turn to what?" but this time, your voice wavers. You walk closer, eyelids fluttering.

His uneven breath condensces in the air with a shaky gelid exhale.

"Y'e don't know what you're gettin' into" he warns.

You smile at his barely contained temper. "I think I do"

Joel's body is completely surrounding yours in the bedroom. Before you register, he pulls you by your jaw with his hand.

"Still thinkin' that?" he mocks, thumb pulling your bottom lip down, forcing your mouth open. "Answer me"

But he's pressing his finger on your tongue. You feel yourself starting to drool.

"Ya' really want 'tis, don't 'cha?" his eyes darken, "droolin' like a fucken cockstarved slut. Now strip" his grip tightens, "I won't ask again"

Your body shivers, but no longer because of the temperature drop. A treacherous jolt runs in between your legs at the very first instance of someone putting you in your place. It feels too good to backtrack, but the last remaining drops of sanity plead you to quit.

"Joel" you say his name like a prayer, and he thinks he'd like to see you beg. "I was fucking around-"

"Don't make me repeat myself"

You sit on the edge of the bed, getting rid of your clothes. It's like your mind has stopped working and your body belongs to someone else.

But you want this. Fuck, you had begged for this: sharpening your knife to make your words cut deeper with him until the bleeding was too big to ignore.

You wanted this. Craved it. Needed to satisfy whatever foreign feeling you'd now attribute to your rebellious and spoiled nature.

(You had never been denied anything, and even now, Joel knows this, but can't help and too give in)

"Not so loud now, are we?" he jests, "but 's worth the view, lettin' 'cha run your spoiled tongue off"

He hums with approval at the sight of your body, your pliant energy making his hard cock twitch in his pants.

"You like what you see, Joel?" you ask softly, despite your resistence.

He groans at that, calloused digits grazing the soft skin of your virgin collarbones.

"I do, princess" he answers, lifiting your chin up. "I'll show ya'"

He takes your hand into his bigger one, moving it right onto the spot between his legs.

"You've been bad, little spoiled brat" Joel's voice rasps as your thighs rub together. Y'er lucky I like that"

He pats your cheek. "Wanna make it up to me?" you eagerly nod, desperate for Joel's approval. You hate not having the upper hand, and a part of you thinks you'd get it back if you behave well. "Good girl. Now sit"

He sits next to you, patting his thick thighs. You salivate just at the thought, moving your body over his denim clad lap. "Right'ere"

"Look at 'cha" he parts your legs, a hoarse tks falling from his lips. Joel chuckles at the wet mess that's created. "So fucken wet and I ain't even touched yet"

You feel his rough digits ghost over your dripping cunt, just as his lips had done minutes ago. The teasing sets you on edge, thrill coarsing through your veins. Without warning, his big palm slaps against your cunt, and you feel yourself soaking your folds like you had never ever before.

"Fucken dirty whore. You ain't no princess, gettin' wet to 'tis" he mocks, "what would daddy say"

"Shut up" you sneer, but your body is full of hormones and treason.

"Not when I'm above 'cha, darlin'. Wouldn't wanna piss me off when I'm the one who decides if 'tis pretty pussy comes or not"

"What makes you think I'll take shit from you?" but it comes out as a whimper. Smack. A jolt runs straight from your pussy, stinging from the contact. "Didn't take it when we where in patrol, why should I do now?"

He laughs, darkly. It's haunting.

"'Cause you want 'tis. And I know you'll be a good girl for me to get it"

You feel yourself dizzy, head spinning as you land on the floor.

"Let's see if I get 'cha to shut up if that dirty bratty mouth of y'rs is stuffed full of ma' cock"

He pulls down his worn-out jeans, getting rid of his belt on a harsh pull. The clinking sound makes you rub your thighs together in a new found anticipation, instead of taking the time to run away from this, whatever the hell this is.

No. He's right.

You want this as much as he does.

(Isn't that the scariest part?)

"Ya' like what 'cha see, y/n?" he's smart to use your same words back, but it's the way he's said your name, like he was always meant to say it, or the angry throbb of his cock, what makes you drool at the red furious tip, dripping with rage and need.

"I think it's your dick who's more excited than me" you taunt, tracing the inner soft skin of his thick thighs. "Practically begging for me to lick it"

His adam's apple bobs.

"Tell me, Joel, when was the last time someone made this pretty big cock feel good?"

"Enough" his fingers grab your hair, pulling you harshly until he drags your mouth onto his cock. "I'm tired of y'er bullshit"

You aren't a stranger, he thinks, with the way you kiss his tip, tongue making a wet circle through the head of his cock. You take him into your mouth, pulling out in a second.

"W-what you do that for?" he asks, breathing rapidly. Strained voice.

You smirk.

"To watch you"

To watch how his eyes had closed as soon as your breath ghosted over his leaking cock, how he threw his head back and gripped the sheets viciously at just your shameless lazy circling. Joel Miller could be in charge, but God, wasn't he touch-starved?

(And for a reason, that was so fucking hot. And, in a way, adorable)

"J-just 'cause I'm-" he cuts himself off, probably out of need or out of embarrassment. "You're not in charge, so don't fuck around with your chances, slut. Imma show you y'r place real quick"

His grip tightens in your hair, forcing himself back into your mouth. Joel was punishing, with the way he's pushing your head down until it was at the base of his cock. You gagged for a moment, eyes closing at the weight of his thick girth on your tongue. 

"Takin' it like a champ, princess. Usin' that mouth of y'rs for good" and then, with a softer tone he adds, "like ya're made for me"

You moan around him as he starts fucking into your mouth, pulling you off quickly, saliva slipping out of your mouth as you gasp for air. 

"Joel" you whine his name, legs pressing together in order to get any friction. 

"Now you beggin'? 'S gonna take more than jus' that, doll" he taunts, but there's a certain wicked softness to the way he traces your cheek as you scramble an attempt. "Try harder, princess"

"I'm sorry, Joel-"

He moves his head, clearly dissatisfied.

"Not Joel. Ya' call me sir when I fuck you"

A mewl escapes your lips.

"Sir" comes out like a faithless prayer, begging to be heard. "I'll do anything, sir, please, touch me"

"Al'ight, but still, it ain't 'nough"

Oh.

The hot tears in the corner of your eyes shouldn't arouse him this much, but the watery promise makes his cock twitch.

"I-I'll do anything, I swear" you beg, the salty tears stream down your cheeks in cascades. "It hurts, Jo-" you whine, "sir, please. Just fuck me goddamit!"

Your once poised voice, now reduced to a whimpering begging mess. Your red rimmed eyes, beginning to puff. It's the way a gloss seems to coat over them, making you look like a doe-eyed deer and not the brat who challenged his every decision and word.

Fuck, isn't he aroused.

"Lookin' so pretty when you cry" he smiles, but instead of wiping the tears, it's his tongue that licks them off your face. "You beggin' that bad to take my cock"

You nod, eagerly so.

"Please, Jo- Just, please. D-don't make me beg" your face feels hot and wet again, "I-I can't take it anymore. Just fucking give it to me!"

"Easy, baby. Can't understand a thing you sayin'" Joel teases. "Where your manners at, besides?"

"Please, sir" he gently pulls you up, humming in satisfaction.

"Goin' crazy over my cock, baby? Y'sure have a nerve to call one pathetic if you gon' act like this, you little brat"

But he is the one moaning when his lips cature your mouth with a fierce impulse, like he wants to devour you whole and swallow your vocals, as to never speak up again.

(But then, he wouldn't hear his name on your sweet albeit snotty voice, and that's a privilege he can't forbid himself from, no matter how annoying you can get sometimes)

"Please" you whisper one last time. He wipes a stray tear with his rough thumb. "I'm yours"

"See, baby? It ain't that hard to shut that mouth of y'rs"

He guides you to the old bed while renewing the kiss, tongues now engaged on a battle for dominance, like even without using your words you'd still need to assert your power over the other. You moan into his mouth when your body slams against the mattress and Joel lands on top, his weight sinking you in the old bed, that creaks.

"I just want to be a good girl for you" you whimper.

"You sure of that? Not gon' be a brat?" and despite his harsh tone that seems to humiliate you, his wandering fingers are gentle with each touch, like if he were to put any more force, you'd break. Joel thinks it's not necessary with you: just with you begging for his cock, he's broken you.

"No, sir" and then you whimper as his mouth dives to the collarbones you had taunted him with before. Joel takes his time, inhaling the musk and savoring the sweet of your skin. Needy whines leave your lips, and he's having the time of his life seeing you surrender so easily, like you had no idea what limits to push, where they'd take you and how you'd pay for that.

"C-Can I touch you?" you whisper, hands itching to tangle on his grey parted hair. He chuckles at the eagerness and tenderness you don't seem aware of.

"S' you can be sweet if ya' want to, huh?" he leaves a fluttering kiss to your chin. "Needy and desperate too. Do ya' want to touch, princess? Remember to use y'r words"

"Yes, sir. I-I want to touch you"

"Thought I disgusted you, hmm? I take you've learnt y'r lesson now?"

"Yes, I've learned. Please, sir, won't do it again" you plead.

"I'll allow ya' to touch, doll" he gives you a smirk, "but 'ts all you get for now"

He lets your hands cling to his coat, taking it off. Then, you proceed to his buttoned shirt, fingers flidding with buttons until you grown annoyed and desperate, pulling the fabric over his head with need.

"Look at 'cha" but there's only adoration, proven so when he starts to kiss the trail of soft skin that goes from your neck to your stomach, making you squirm. "Easy, baby. 'M gettin' down there"

He finally reaches your core, kissing the inner side of your thighs with wet and sloppy lips. His hot breath tingles over your clit, and a beat later, his mouth presses into your cunt, your back arching at the cold contact of his chapped lips against the humid hot of your folds.

You muffle a moan, embarrassed at the whole situation.

"Ain't need to worry 'bout nothin', doll. Nobody can hear us" he grins, tongue flicking your clit. "Wanna listen to your pretty whimpers as I make 'cha feel good"

You cry out of pleasure, the sound escaping past your lips. Joel has a laugh.

"Good girl"

Joel rewards you with another series of minstrations on your bud, licks made with determination only the expert man knows of. He then slides one finger into you, slowly moving it in and out of your soaked trembling heat. 

"M-more" you beg, eager to get more fingers inside you. "Please, more, sir"

You buck your hips to try to get closer to him, meeting his thrusts.

Joel tuts, "What're you doin', spoiled brat? Did I tell ya' to move? You were doing such'a great job... guess I gotta punish you-"

"No!" you shout. "Do anything you want, but touch me, please- touch me!"

He introduces a second finger, raising his brow at the immediate way you clench around him. Joel curls them, robbing another moan out of you.

"Feels good?" you can't answer, as a hard thrust robs another moan from you. "But I'ont want 'cha to think we done, princess. Think I'd let you come, jus' like that? After all's happened?"

"Need you" you tug him closer with your arms holding onto his. "Joel, sir- please"

"Oh, princess" he smirks, "I think you don't know what you askin' for"

Joel grabs his hand around his length, coating the tip in your slicky juices, and then, he presses his length into you in one thrust.

"You're big-" you pant as he gives you time to adjust to his size. Joel then picks up an unrelenting pace that makes moans spill out of you like a fountain, the pace of his thrusts sending you closer and closer to the edge. 

"N-need to-"

"Don't" he seethes. "Ya' won't 'till I tell ya' can"

All you could do is moan, helplessly pinned between his body and the bed. Your whole body shakes in an effort to contain as his hips loose their rhythm, his groans louder as he gets closer and closer to the edge. 

"Al'ight. 'Cause you've been good" his cock drives through your walls with rhythmic melodies. "Cum, princess, but when ya' do, look at me"

You're seeing stars the moment your toes curl and his head falls to clash against your forehead.

(The beads of sweat roll down out of him like trails to follow, and his scarred rugged skin doesn't compare to your soft one, painted with the maroon of his bites and kissing at the skin of your collarbone. The dried up trails of tears. Your begging and desperate voice. His name on your lips)

It only takes a few more thrusts before he spills in you, cock twitching until every last drop of thick hot white cum is pumped into you.

Joel then pulls out gently, pressing a kiss to your forehead before flopping onto you, the mattress dipping even further. With his hand, he removes a stray strand of damp hair, putting it behind you ear with such tender kindness, your heart strings pull.

"In fact, I want ya' to look at me next time y'even think 'bout defying me. See if that mouth of y'ers can talk after 'tis"

A week later, you're back at patrolling.

"Anyone got anythin' to say?"

The group looks at you. You're about to open your mouth, but Joel cocks an eyebrow.

Just like that, and you're gone. Great job, y/n.

"Whatever" you sound meek as you push past him, yet he catches a glimpse of your warm cheeks. "Let's go"

The rest are too stunned to speak, the silence only cut off by Miller's laugh.

"Would 'cha look at that?" he whistles. "Ain't nobody tell ya' miracles don't happen anymore on this goddamn world!"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @chappellsroans

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 5 of forever teen Danny adopted JJ Tim and Red Hood. Damian finally gets to see his Akhi again.

[Pt 4: Here]

Damian only got glimpses of the second group of vigilantes in Gotham over the year and a half he's been with his father before he realized how fallible his Father is. He feels woefully misinformed by his Mother, who only sang the man's praises.

At first, it was because the Bats trust him not to use deathly force as well as the last two Robins' being a fresh wound for Father and Richard. And it stung to hear them make plans to convince a meta child to join them so that the crazed lunatics that loyally follow him will follow suit. Sure, it was because one of the lunatics was the second to last Robin who went crazy and refused their help, but it felt like his Father and supposed big brother simply found him unacceptable and burdensome.

Eventually, he decides to break into their files to learn everything they have on the non-Bat Gotham vigilantes, only to discover that the Bat version of events that he was told was incomplete. Horrendously incomplete.

He found camera footage of how terribly they treated Timothy Drake from the moment he entered the Waynes' lives to the moment he ran away. Damian would stay far away from them, too, if he endured half of what Timothy did. Damian already wasn't planning to help his Father and Richard to bring him back into the fold, but now the reason for why is completely different. Damian shall aid him if the moment arises.

The second "lunatic" Damian could recognize anywhere. It's his Akhi from the league! Mother must have sent Jason to Gotham ahead of him. He's using the name Red Hood and became significantly less violent since being adopted by Timothy and the Meta. Damian didn't know pit madness was curable, but the reports prove they did something and helped his Akhi. He wonders if he could ask at some point. Healing others with the affliction before they have to be put down would be amazing! Damian had been terrified of the day Akhi would be next, but now he doesn't have to worry.

Obviously, he's not going to help the Bats arrest his Akhi.

The last person of the group, the meta called Phantom is a complete unknown to him, and the Bats apparently. They estimate him to be 13, or a small 14, year old, but he's the clear leader of the group if the trio has to make a decision together. They've seen him use superstrength, fly, turn himself invisible, and turn himself intangible. He can transfer the last 3 abilities to other people or things so long as he's touching them. He seems to have a rigid moral code, but it isn't the same as Father's. Phantom is perfectly fine with murdering those he deems unacceptable, like the now deceased Joker or Black Mask (both were killed after a Robin was harmed. Which makes him feel a little safer.) or the random serial killer or rapist they find.

Father believes he can sway Phantom to his way of thinking, but Damian is not so sure. Phantom has made his hatred for Father and Richard well-known. And anytime they attempt to corner Phantom, or Timothy, or Akhi, the other two come in swinging.

Damian isn't sure what tonight's plans had been, but he had a bad feeling when he saw them taking John Constantine with them. He already figured out Phantom was a supernatural. He hasn't aged a day since he was first documented, and he's fairly sure Akhi counts too. He's just not sure what Akhi is. Damian is going to be pissed if Father and Richard have Constantine kill Phantom and Akhi just so they can get Timothy back. He'll personally break Timothy out of wherever they decide to lock him away and get them both out of Gotham if the hypocritical Waynes hurt the odd group.

He was forced to take the day off because of a sprained ankle. Which is ridiculous, he's done more with worse injuries, but decides not to argue so he can watch through their mask cameras. Damian seethes at the lies and half truths his family feeds to Constantine to get him to comply.

The trap they set works perfectly, unfortunately, and just as Constantine is about to try to exorcize Jason, the teens breakout into their own chant. The video feed becomes nearly completely static and voices cut in and out, but he can understand what's happening. Damian feels hysterical as he realizes what kind of fire these idiots were playing with and can barely scrape together sadness and guilt for them. He stares at the screens long after Phantom and his adopted children leave, only getting up to prep the med bay after Constantine moved Bruce and Richard to the batmoble. Gordon already called for the doctor, so there's nothing else he can do.

This stunt has broken any trust or safety Damian may have felt in the men he's supposed to view as family. He thinks about his options. He refuses to go back to his Mother or Grandfather, but he's not sure he wants to stay with the Waynes either. It feels like being stuck in a rock and a hard place.

Then he remembers how Timothy got adopted by "The Ghost King" after he tried to go to the Bats.

As much as he hates to leaving behind what feels like his responsibilities, he can't live here. He found plenty of recordings, from different Bats eavesdropping, of usually Phantom telling his sons that just because you can do something doesn't mean you have to. So just because he can help Bruce and Richard, doesn't mean he has to or should. Phantom was very clear on what he wanted THEM to do. Damian isn't part of the equation, and honestly doesn't want to be, he already was walking on egg shells when they weren't going to be belligerent.

When the batmoble barreling in, Damian decides his last act of service to the Waynes will be to help Constantine and Pennyworth get them to the med bay. He doesn't leave the cave until everyone is settled or left, and Pennyworth ushers him to bed. He glances at the peacefully sleeping Bruce and Richard (they were drugged to make setting their bones easier) one last time before complying with Alfred's order, sort of. He goes to his room.

While in his room, he pulls out the bag he arrived at the manor with. He packs 2 changes of clothes, his sketchbook, his pencil case, and his "allowance". He doesn't take more than that. He doesn't want to be indebted to the Bats anymore than he already feels he is. He feels like this will be an unforgivable betrayal in their eyes, but he finds he doesn't mind as much as he feared he would.

He decides to leave them all notes.

[Dear Pennyworth,

Thank you for your hospitality. I shall remember your lessons and think of you fondly, but I can no longer be in Father's care. His dealings with Poltergeist, Red Hood, and Phantom have been unacceptable. He rather kill an undead than reassess his ways. An undead that is my Akhi. I won't be returning until I feel they've actually changed.

Warmest Regards,

Damian Wayne Al Gul]

[Richard,

You preach of brotherhood, but I found the recordings of how you treated Timothy and Jason. I don't see why I would be treated differently. I suggest you figure yourself out and apologize to both of them before trying to "big brother" any other strays Father attempts to bring into the fold.

Damian Wayne Al Gul]

[Father,

I can no longer stay under your care. You have proven to be just as unsafe as Mother and Grandfather. I shall be staying with my Akhi until you are less of a danger to mine and others' safety. Hopefully, this is a wake-up call, but I don't see it being anything more than another excuse for you to punish and push everyone who cares about you away. Your track record is telling.

Damian Wayne Al Gul]

They're not much, but he feels better for writing them.

Damian has outgrown the LoA gear he came in, so he dresses in black jeans, combat boots, a dark green, almost black (Richard said he needed more colour in his wardrobe) hoody, and a surgical mask. He knows Alfred shall be retiring soon and that all the windows and doors leading outside are alarmed. He'll have to sneak out of the cave and use Bruce's codes to get out without an alarm immediately going off. Richard's go off, so Bruce and Alfred know he's been there, and Damian's are so he can't leave without a Bat with him.

It took him two weeks to see enough to piece it together and was infuriated when he realized it was Jason's death date. It's completely disrespectful to Jason and clearly just another form of self flagellation, plus it's like using a birthday as a code, someone IS going to guess it eventually. It killed a lot of whatever respect Damian may have held before tonight.

When the time comes, he doesn't hesitate. It feels surreal to him as he escapes the Manor for probably the last time. He doesn't linger on the fond memories that seem to dig their fingers in as he sneaks away and makes his way to Crime Alley. He swallows the bitterness of realizing his blood relatives have never made him feel safe, only his Akhi. A man who willingly lives in the worst part of Gotham when he deserves the best.

But Damian knows how Jason's heart works. Crime Alley has always been his home, and he'll guard its people till his dying breath.

He climbs down a building and tries to not spook the pair of sex workers, "Excuse me?"

Mission failed, they both startle. The one with mostly straight hair and colourful makeup yells. "JESUS, KID! Ya tryin' ta scare me inta an early grave!?"

"Sorry." Damian mumbles apologically, "I was wondering if you could call Red Hood to pick me up?"

"Sure, kid, but why? Someone try ta sell something to ya?" The other one, with dredlocks and white and black makeup, asks.

"He's my brother, actually... I, um," Damian decides to lay it on thick, wobbling his voice and forcing himself teary-eyed. "I ran away from our relatives. They kept me trapped, and I haven't been able to contact him to tell him I wasn't as safe as we thought I'd be. I ran away, but don't know where he or Poltergeist live..."

"Shush, kid, alright," Black and white sighs, pulling out her(?) phone and hitting call on a contact. "Don't make me regret this!"

Damian nods and stays silent during the phone call, only speaking once she(?) hangs up. "Uh, where should I wait? I don't want to disrupt your business more than I have."

"Ya a doll! Just like our Hoody!" Colourful coons.

"Ya know how to get to the roofs?"

"Yeah?"

"Then wait up there. A kid hangin' about is definitely bad fo' business and Hood will be comin' from the roofs anyway."

"Okay. Thank you for all your assistance." Damian bows slightly towards her before climbing up to the roof to wait. He can't be sure how long he waits, it feels both like hours and mere minutes have past when he hears Jason's familiar footsteps.

"Dami?" Jason sounds confused, which is valid. Last time they spoke Damian was willing to do anything to prove himself to his Grandfather and Bruce. "What are you doing here?"

"I have found both sides of my blood relations to be lacking." Damian admits. "I feel unsafe and wish to stay with you. If your new family would be amenable to it."

"Uh, dad?" Jason asks, tilting his head to the side. A voice coming from open air is very odd to witness in person.

"I don't see why not, but we'll have to ask your brother first." Phantom fades into view and drifts closer to Damian. It feels like the (APPARENTLY) Ghost King (??? Damian is still processing that detail to be honest.) can see Damian's soul. Who knows, maybe he can? Will he find Damian lacking?

"Right, okay, one second." Jason pulls out an odd looking phone and dials a number. "Don't get me wrong, Dami. I would love to have you, but it's a family decision to let you live with us. I cou- Oh! Yeah, so funny situation! How do you feel about adopting another bird?... Yeah...pfft yeah, okay, you have a point...And it'd be funny! .. Sweet! See you soon!"

"He said yes?" Phantom sounds amused and looks fond and unsurprised.

"Yup!" Damian can hear Jason's grin. "You're bunking with me until we upgrade our apartment again!"

"Very well." Damian easily accepts. Phantom tilts his head, eyeing Damian as if trying to get a read on him about something.

"Do you plan to continue being a vigilante?" Was not the question Damian thought he was going to be asked.

"I would like to. I left the Robin costume in the cave, though, so I'd need a new one." Phantom nods in acceptance. Damian doesn't know what he'd do if Phantom said no.

"I will allow it and help you make a new identity IF you promise to stay with me or your brothers when you go out. I won't have any of you dying before you're old and gray." Phantom looks like he will burn the city to the ground at the thought of his children dying. It's comforting. Damian can see why his throughly traumatized predecessors were drawn to him.

"I accept these terms so long as I have more independents as an adult."

"Hm.. we shall revisit the issue when you're 19." Phantom concedes, which is good enough for Damian. "I shall fly us home now. It's getting late and it's faster than parkour."

Damian barely has time to process that before they're rocketing through the Alley. Phantom's strange powers protecting him from wind resistance and gravity. It's the oddest thing he's ever felt, but not bad. Phantom simply phases them through the wall when they get to their apartment.

The frontroom is colourful. Furniture is random, but not clashing, colours. There's pillows and throw blankets of every colour folded to the side or scattered like someone pulled it off in a hurry. Books, games, and puzzles are crammed on multiple bookshelves. It's bright and chaotic, but also lived in and cozy.

Timothy skips in from the kitchen with a tray of 4 steaming mugs of hot cocoa, somehow not spilling a drop. "Hi!"

"Hello, Timothy. Thank you for letting me stay." Damian bows at about a 45 degree angle to show his respect.

"Oh! Um, no problem." Timothy's wide, but calculating eyes show he understands the significance of Damian's bow. "I made everyone hot chocolate. I wasn't sure how you liked yours, so I made it how Jason likes his. Yours and his are the navy and red cups. Dad's is the Nasa one, and this one is mine!"

Timothy says, holding up a rainbow cup with unicorn impaling someone on it.

"Thanks, Tim." Phantom says with a fond smile before something unexpected happens. Phantom turns into a human as he reaches for his cup. After a sip or two, he notices Damian's confusion. "I'm a halfa, kid. My name's Danny Kronoyios in this form. Still legally a dead guy and a ghost. I can just digest things easier in this form and access my powers in the other, can still do both in both, though."

"It's weird, but you get used to it." Jason says while ducking into a hallway. Damian awkwardly grabs the blue cup and sips at it. There's a lovely mix of spices in the cocoa, making it slightly spicy. Jason returns in pajama pants and a band t-shirt Damian doesn't recognize and plops on the couch Timothy has curled up on. "It's been one hell of a day!"

"Indeed." Phantom (because what kind of name is "Danny" for an undead king?) hums, "Want to watch an episode of something before bed?"

And that's how Damian's surreal night ends. He and his possibly new family, drinking cocoa while watching an episode of some show Damian doesn't really understand, but found amusing anyways. Timothy gives him some of his pajamas when they realize Damian didn't bring any. And Jason using him as a teddy bear when they all go to bed. It's nice. It's the safest he's felt since arriving in Gotham. He is positive he made the right choice.

[lilianalovespink]

Your lungs burn.

Your skin does too.

Sweat soaked clothes cling to your skin, cotton made heavy by the sheer amount of it that you've let off in the last hour of training.

But most importantly, there's a lump in your throat that aches worse than any cough ever could've- feeling like that time you had tonsillitis as a child.

"'ny more wisdom or are you done, private?"

If you cry now, he'll be kind; understanding. He always is, but that's the problem.

"I'm done captain."

~

'Unable to follow orders without questions, unable to integrate into the team.'

Sincerely and with your entire heart, you wish only the worst upon John Price. You could follow orders, you could work with them- if they let you.

A discomfort of needle like nature pulls through your muscles at that thought, considering that you had in fact voiced it and that the consequence had been the training you usually do over the course of three hours having to get done within an hour, no breaks, no warmups.

The worst part, you thought as you stepped out of the showers, is that in his view, he didn't hate you but rather...think you incompetent; a cocky amateur with too much of their chest puffed out.

You, a little child, a toddler acting rebellious or throwing a tantrum, and him, the sensible adult, strict but 'caring'.

"Shh, I know. This is too much for you. I know."

Leave it to him to make comfort a painful act; one for you to be belittled during, made out to be just another stupid teen in over their head.

Yes, you were younger than your commander, your captain, but no younger than your lieutenant or seargant.

Just not at their rank.

Your transfer to the 141 was abrupt, but by no means unwelcome. You were the best in your recruitment class, you were capable but as price, at the time you thought jokingly, put it, you weren't 'broken in'.

And boy did he have every intention of breaking you.

Training was tough, but doable except-

"You were top of your class? Again."

"There's a reason you're still a private."

"If you can't manage, leave."

And then, whenever you snap at him, show teeth at the hand that constantly strikes you, he's a saint. He's really just putting you what everyone else is going through, why are you this upset? Clearly because you're immature.

If you can hold back your urge to bite bite bite- this man, if you try to ask him stuff it's really a coin flip of what version of Captain John Price you'll get.

"You can't handle it? That's okay. It's okay, hey- no crying. Come here...yeah, that's a good girl."

Or, in case you didn't crawl between his legs like a scared puppy-

"I'm only being hard on you because I thought you wanted to be better. Was I wrong about that? Or do you want to be something other than a private one day?"

The worst part is that, the team seems to see you as a puppy as well- with you literally getting that as a monicker.

Lt. Riley wasn't as cold and mysterious as you expected when you first saw the mask, but he certainly wasn't hellbent on letting you be his buddy, let alone his comrade. He never helped you out unless you asked, but, should you make that mistake, to ask for help, he'll nod and simply guide you aside like you're a sheep and he's your shepherd. Like teaching you wasn't literally his job.

Sgt. MacTavish as well as Sgt. Garrick had initially been warm and inviting, had made you feel like this was your team- until you noticed how they'd leave you out whenever they could. Sure, neither of them were rude but- they weren't proper teammates either.

And then, of course, Captain Price.

What should you say about this man? How horrible he is? Would that do what he's put you through any justice?

As if this alienation from the people you literally had to trust with your life wasn't bad enough, the way they seemed to pity you was worse. Like you were a small child who dropped your candy.

It hurt, badly.

So when Commander Philipp Graves joined for a mission in Los Alamos and was the only one who treated you like you were on one level?

Yeah, you took the bait.

[selenitesdawn]

Temperance (Wanda's Version)

pairing: wanda maximoff x female!reader plot: Wanda didn't choose to fall for the girl her boyfriend used to bully in high school. But she did. And if there is one thing Wanda Maximoff is known for, it is always getting what she wants. No matter how. warnings: 18+ !! minors dni. wanda is with vision, cheating, stalking and heavy (mind)manipulation, possessive wanda, power-imbalance, dom!wanda, sub!reader, sexual content word count: 2700 a/n: this can be read as a one shot. however, here is the story from the reader's perspective: Temperance Masterlist

At first, it started innocent. As most things do. Sometimes a small puff of air is enough to trigger a whole tornado. And that was exactly the case for Wanda. It wasn't planned that things would turn out the way they did in the end. But let’s start at the very beginning.

Wanda had been in a more or less happy relationship with Vision for about six months when she found out about you. Vision's oldest friends Steve and Bucky were visiting when the conversation turned to what would change everything.

“Remember that one hot chick from highschool?,” Bucky had asked back then.

Wanda entered the living room just at the right time, serving drinks and snacks for the guests. After handing her home made lemonade to everyone, she sat herself down next to Vision, observing the conversation carefully. 

“Natasha Romanoff?,” Vision replied smugly, earning a side-eye from Wanda.

“How could I forget. I asked her out and after one date she said i’m too obsessed with my ex,” Steve remembered, before getting interrupted by Bucky.

“Which you still are-,”

Steve lightly hit Bucky’s arm who laughed in response.

“Heads up buddy, at least you didn’t embarrass yourself like y/n did,” Bucky tried cheering up his friend.

The memory made Vision laugh wholeheartedly, slapping his own leg as if Bucky had just cracked the funniest joke ever. Steve however didn’t seem amused, nipping at his glass.

“That’s still the one of the nastiest things you’ve ever done Vision. At least in high school,” Steve noted, shaking his head disapprovingly.

“What did you do?,” Wanda chimed in, her curiosity too great to stay silent.

Vision quickly collected himself, noticing the seriousness in Wanda’s tone, “Oh it was nothing, just read this strange poem she wrote about Natasha but-“

“Out loud. In class. After stealing y/n’s notebook from her backpack,” Steve added quickly.

“Vision what the fuck, why would you do that?,” Wanda questioned horrified, her face a mixture of upset and disgust.

She knew Vision wasn't perfect, but he was a good partner all things considered. However, they never really talked about his teenage years before, so hearing how her boyfriend behaved back then really bugged Wanda in a way she didn't expect. Vision on the other hand tried to play it down.

“Relax babe, it was just a joke. Besides, y/n wouldn’t have had a chance with Natasha anyway. I mean, she turned down Steve,“ he tried to justify his actions, pointing to Steve who looked almost as disappointed as Wanda did. 

“I can’t believe you would do something like that,“ Wanda mumbled frustrated.

“Chill Wanda, that was in high school,” Bucky rattled in, trying to defend Vision’s actions. 

“Well, he did do something similar in college so-,“ Steve started saying before Vision firmly stopped him.

“Shut up Steve.” 

That night Wanda felt like she was lying next to a stranger. Had Vision been a bully before she knew him? Did he have a side that she didn't know of? And what else had he done to you? She wanted answers, but of course she couldn't get them from Vision. But she was desperate for answers. And then it happened again. Wanda never did it on purpose. Sometimes one thing just lead to another. And that’s when she saw you in her mind's eye. How you stood crying in a corner of the schoolyard and how Vision ran after you to take pleasure in your suffering. How he cheekily laughed in your face. The pictures in her mind were vivid, like they were happening right in that moment. 

Wanda couldn’t sleep after what she saw, so she decided to get up and search for Vision’s yearbook. It didn’t take long to find you, the photo of you matching with the flashback she had. Her thumb softly brushed over the image of you, as she stared at your younger self. Then, a switch turned inside Wanda. You looked so innocent. So beautiful. How could Vision treat you like that? While browsing through other images in the yearbook, she saw you standing next to Kate Bishop in a bunch of photos. Wanda remembered Kate. They had met some time ago and back then they exchanged their Instagram accounts.

Wanda could have stopped right there. She knew what Vision did and she knew whom he did it to. But for some reason she couldn’t. So instead of leaving things as they are, she went on Instagram, searching through Kate’s account. Not surprisingly, she quickly found yours. You have only gotten more beautiful since high school, Wanda thought to herself as she explored each and every one of your posts, highlights and tagged images. 

At the beginning she thought that the feelings she had for you were merely compassion. Born from the fact that she felt sorry for what Vision did to you. Then, slowly but surely, the compassion started turning into admiration. The next days she caught herself searching for your other social media. And then she spent more and more time finding out anything about you that was accessible to her. Where you live, where you work, where you study. That’s when Wanda had to admit to herself, that something was brewing. At least partly.

It’s just an innocent crush.

Wanda thought. But over time, the quiet admiration grew roots, spreading relentlessly, taking up more of her thoughts than she was willing to admit. Looking at pictures of you wasn’t enough anymore. She needed to see you. The first time she went to the bakery you were working at, she couldn’t find you. The second time, she only caught a glimpse of you working in the back. The third time, you seemed to have a day off again. Wanda almost stopped at this point, feeling weird about her own behavior. But then, a few days later, Kate posted a selfie with you in her Instagram story. Seeing your face once again reignited a fire inside her that she was almost able to extinguish. But how could she stop obsessing over you when you looked so pretty? 

The fourth time Wanda went to your work place, she finally saw you standing behind the counter as she peeked through the window. You were smiling tiredly as you served a customer, your eyes revealing that you hadn’t slept a lot lately. Wanda thought you looked as precious as ever. Like you belonged in a museum, protected from the ugliness of the world. But then, she froze. What was she even supposed to say to you? There is only a single chance for a first impression. And Wanda wanted it to be perfect. You couldn’t find out that it’s a set up. So, she needed to be smart about it.

What if I just bring her to me? 

As the night approached Wanda checked your Instagram again and saw that you posted a story. A donation link for animals in war zones. Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. She remembered how her younger self would be so compassionate about the street dogs in Sokovia and the helplessness she felt from watching them starve on the streets. Now she technically had enough resources to do something good for them. And that’s how Wanda approached Vision, suggesting a trip to Sokovia for a good cause. Vision wasn’t exactly obsessed with the idea but after his dad suggested renting a mansion, and Wanda suggested taking Steve and Bucky on the trip, he was sold. A few days passed until Wanda made her next move, not wanting her plans to be too obvious.

During dinner, Wanda brought up the question she’s been holding back ever since the trip was decided. “Wouldn’t it be nice to invite Kate and her best friend? This one girl you talked about? What was her name again….? y/n?”

Vision who was busy pushing around the peas on his plate, looked up with a grin. For a moment there was utter silence, until Vision started laughing. Wanda however, wasn’t in the mood.

“I’m serious Vision.”

Vision’s laughter stopped, his eyebrows now furrowed. “You’re joking. You don’t even know them.”

Wanda tried to stay calm, her next words precisely calculated. “That’s not true, I met Kate at your birthday party in May. She even told me about this-,” Wanda tilted her head, as if she had to think about it “,-golden retriever she fostered. And she was nice. Besides, I can’t deal with this much testosterone on my own.”

Vision rubbed his eyes, considering Wanda’s suggestion carefully.

“Okay. Kate it is. Fine. But why the fuck would I invite y/n?,” he asked annoyed. But Wanda had expected something like this.

“Well, you have to make up for something, don’t you think?,” she replied confidently.

Vision’s eyes widened, then he laughed again, “There's nothing to make up for Wanda. Besides, why would working without getting any money from it be something desirable.”

Wanda’s demeanor changed quickly, Vision’s reaction seemingly triggering something within her. “I know it’s hard to grasp for your tiny little brain but some people actually enjoy doing something good and meanwhile living in a fucking mansion for three months.”

Then there was silence. The tension in the air was suffocating, as the two of them just stared each other down, both not willing to step back.

“I would rather choke than ask her to join. And how do you even know that Kate and y/n are friends?,” Vision spat out. But Wanda knew what she wanted. And she wasn’t playing around.

“I’m serious Vision. Invite her,” Wanda commanded darkly.

“You can’t just tell me what to do Wanda,” Vision retorted, his tone provocative. 

“Can’t I?,” Wanda hinted with a slight smirk, her head tilting to the side. For a moment time seemed frozen, Vision’s gaze becoming emptier as Wanda’s gaze burned into his soul. Then, Vision seemed to snap back into reality.

“Fine. I’ll invite Kate and tell her that she can bring y/n,” he finally announced, before returning his attention to the peas on his plate.

“Good.”

Soon enough, the first day of the trip finally arrived and the first official meeting  between Wanda and you took place at the airport. To her pleasant surprise, Wanda quickly realized that she had a certain effect on you. She was able to trigger something deep within you, without even actively trying. She only had to look at you a little longer than necessary, which wasn’t intentional but the simple result of weeks of anticipation from Wanda’s side. That was enough to fill a hole inside you that you weren’t even aware of. But Wanda was aware of it. She saw it in your eyes. And she felt it in the back of her mind.

It's not that she thought you were weak or naive. She just immediately understood that you had a weak spot for her. And that set something inside Wanda in motion. Suddenly her hidden desires didn’t seem far from reachable anymore. 

That same night she had sex with Vision in the room next to you, banging against the wall although there was no need to do so. Faking rough, loud moans although she wasn’t feeling satisfied. But you were supposed to hear it. And while you laid in bed, covering your ears so you wouldn’t freak out, your pretty little thoughts were so loud that it was enough to get her off.

At first she felt a sense of satisfaction from making you nervous. How you sheepishly tried to hide the blush spreading across your face whenever she smiled at you. It didn’t take long until she caught herself acting a certain way in front of you. Sometimes that meant swaying her hips a little more when you were walking behind her. Sometimes she would play with her rings when you were staring at her hands again. Then, one day, she innocently put her hand on your leg under the kitchen table. Just for a quick moment really. But it was long enough for you to slightly squirm under her touch. You thought Wanda couldn’t have possibly noticed. But of course she did. Suddenly it wasn't enough anymore to simply have you wrapped around her finger. She wanted to have you. To own you.

It was all about seduction at this point. Wanda gave you too little to feel hopeful but just enough so you would keep yearning for her. Her hands always somehow found their way to your body but disappeared just as quickly, leaving you confused and unsatisfied. After studying you all this time, she understood how to push your buttons. How to make you addicted to the feeling Wanda gave you. 

She wasn’t certain about how long she would be able to keep this play up. But the decision was made for her the day you drove to the shelter together. Wanda just wanted to trigger you a little. She knew how nervous you felt around her, so sitting in a fairly small space together without a way out was the perfect opportunity to fog up your pretty little brain a bit more. 

“Babe, I think I want to drive the Lambo today and give y/n a ride. Please?,” Wanda asked innocently, looking up at Vision with a smile, her arm wrapped around his bicep.

“Keep on dreaming, no one’s going to sit their ass down on the passenger seat, apart from me and you, Wanda,” Vision laughed, his tone patronizing.

In a heartbeat, Wanda’s demeanor shifted, her head tilting sideways as her eyes turned to a darker shade, “No Vision. Try again.”

Once again, time seemed to freeze. The others, including you, were just standing there with empty gazes as Wanda stared Vision down. Vision’s gaze drifted towards you, like he was searching for… help? But that is not what happened in your memory, is it?

“Um…,” Vision started saying, his mouth staying slightly agape as his eyes widened. Then, like nothing happened, his face went back to normal, “…sure.”

As you and Wanda sat in the car, Wanda bathed in the sheer enjoyment of overwhelming you. Your inability to say something, probably scared that Wanda would think you’re weird. When you finally spoke up in the middle of the car ride and wanted to learn more about Wanda, the redhead was almost unable to contain her excitement. She felt proud of you for conquering your fears but at the same time she feared for her own composure. 

So, on the way back, she didn’t ask you to ride with her again. And as she stepped into the car, she saw your bottom lip trembling slightly. She saw your sad face, your teary eyes. And she saw your exhaustion. That’s when Wanda realized that you couldn’t deal with this situation much longer. Back at your residence, when Kate had to carry you out the car as you were unable to walk to bed, Wanda made a decision. It was time to quit the act and get what’s hers. 

The next morning, she wasted no time. Wanda told the others that you’d deserve a day off and that she would make sure that you’re resting well. It didn’t take long after you woke up until her body was pushed against yours, your arousal dripping from your core as Wanda’s hand made its way to your most sensitive spot. After a short interruption from Vision who called out for Wanda to say goodbye, every boundary that had separated you and Wanda began to vanish. All the anticipation from the last weeks melted as she was finally able to get her hands on you without restrictions, owning every inch of you. After all the patience she had, she earned this moment. But the best part was finally hearing the words she had so desperately waited for. 

 “I belong to you, Wanda.” 

As the words left your mouth, electricity raced through Wanda’s entire body. The one thing she was craving, mostly unconsciously, was finally hers. You were hers.

Wanda didn’t plan things to go that way. At least, for the most part. It wasn’t her fault though, was it? What else could she do? She needed you. Even more than you needed her. And if there is one thing that is certain about Wanda; it’s that she always gets what she wants. One way, or another. 

[selineram3421]

Well I just read you newest story about y/n being Husker's younger sibling. Especially how much focus there was on Al just wanting to piss him off.

So if I might suggest: Alastor with a y/n who's Charlie's sibling/Lucifer's child. Seriously we saw him already losing it when all claimed to see a daughter figure in Charlie...Al flirting, etc. with a different child might actually kill him.

Anyway I love your work, keep it up ^-^

- 🖤

*cackles like an insane person*

Royally Pissed

Prologue

Alastor X Morningstar Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ reader is blonde for obvious reasons, cussing, mention of depression, angry short King ⚠

Lucifer treasured his children.

Of course he messed up at times, not every parent is perfect. Though he does regret not seeing his children all that often.

Charlie was doing something. Somewhere.

Shit, that sounds bad.

And you would come by and check up on him every so often.

While Charlie looked like him, she had her mother's height. You looked more like Litlith..but had his shortness.

Of course you were adorable!

His littlest one, born a few seconds after Charlie. Twins that came out like opposites in looks but similar in some ways.

He gifted you a rubber duck for every birthday. One that had a tutu, one that had multiple eyes, one that had a built in music box, one that had a jester hat, one that honked like a goose, one that-

Ok, it was a lot.

But you loved his duckies! You even had bookshelves just for them!

Currently you were with him in the castle. Or more like you being in the other room while he was working on another duck.

Then he got a phone call from Charlie.

"Daughter. Daughter calling!", he said in surprise.

After talking about Heaven and a bit about the hotel, he got excited when she said for him to come see the hotel for himself.

"My daughter wants to see me~!", he sang before pointing at a duck on the floor. "Take that depression!"

"Dad?", he heard you call out, finding you opening the door. "Do you want lunch now?", you asked.

Lucifer cheered out your name and grabbed your hands before twirling you around. "Charlie called! She invited me to her hotel thingy!"

"Oh, that's nice.", you said. "I hope you have fun."

"You can come too!", he stopped the twirling. "We'll all get to hang out again!"

You smiled and agreed.

"Great! We've got to be there in an hour!", he says before letting you go to skip out of the room.

Staying put, you glance at the rubber duck filled room with slight worry.

"It wasn't this bad last time.."

.

You stood behind your father as you both waited for the doors to open.

It's been a while since you last saw Charlie, it being around a few months. Looking around you can see she cleaned up the building quite well. It was more broken down when it first appeared on the news when she pitched her idea.

I'm glad she's doing well. You thought before hearing the door.

"Charlie!", your dad said with a wide smile, holding his arms open.

"Hey Dad.", your sister waved before getting glomped with a tight hug. "Uh..it's uh, good to see you too Dad.", she said before having to push him off to breathe.

Then she noticed you, saying your name in excitement.

"I would have done more if I knew you were coming to visit too!", she said and brought you into the hotel by your hand.

"No, you don't have to worry. I'm sure what you have is enough.", you reassured as you followed her in.

From the corner of your eye, you saw two demons right next to the door. On your right there was someone in red and turned your head to see a tall deer demon. Looking to your left, you saw a woman with long white hair and an X over her eye.

"Hello..", you waved with a shy smile.

.

Alastor glared down at the King as soon as the short man barged into the hotel.

How could that be more powerful than me? He thought as his eye twitched.

Then Charlie pushed her father off and excitedly greeted someone outside, grabbing their hand to bring them in.

His eyes widened at the smaller version of Lilith.

"Hello..", they waved shyly at everyone in the room.

And then the little cat that the Princess had walked over to greet the two.

"Kiki!", the two blondes kneeled down to pet the one-eyed feline.

After walking around, Lucifer commented on the bar, so Alastor teleported closer before speaking up.

"Just some of the renovations we had done!", he pointed at the bar with his microphone staff. "Adds a bit of color! Don't you think?", he said before facing the King.

He teleported even closer to the Kind and introduced himself after the monarch questioned who he was, shaking the apple cane instead of the King's hand.

As soon as the deer demon let go, he wiped his hand on his coat.

"You are much shorter in real life.", he said pinching his fingers a bit, emphasizing how small the blonde man was.

"Who is this? Who is this?", Lucifer asked and turned to his daughter once seeing her walk over. "Is this the bellhop?", he asked her.

"Aha! No!", Alastor said before fixing his bow. "I am the host of the hotel! You might of heard of me from my radio broadcasts."

"Hm. Nope!", the King pretended to think before dusting off his sleeve. "Maybe it's why Charlie calls it the HAZBIN hotel! Ah ha ha!", he nudges his daughter with his elbow.

"Ha ha ha!", the deer tilts his head at every short laugh that left his mouth before looking at his claws with a knowing smile. "It was actually my idea."

"Ah haha! Well it's not very clever!", the blonde replied leaning forward a bit.

"Ah ha!", the Radio demon laughed loudly before leaning down to meet the King's gaze. "Fuck you.", he said very clearly, static only in the background.

"OK!", Charlie pushed the two away. "Ok! Anyway!", she said as the two looked away from each other. "Dad!", she turned to her father.

While the two were occupied, he saw the small Lilith looking Morningstar talking with the others, wearing a bright smile as they laughed.

He focused back on the conversation when the Princess said his name.

"We wouldn't have been able to pretty it up this much.", she said and the two blondes turned to face him.

"Charlie has a very unique vision!", he said with his usual smile as he walked over. "I am happy to fulfil her bizarre requests!", he places a hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"Thank you Alastor.", the blonde smiled, feeling happy.

He noticed the way Lucifer hated it, and calmly smiled.

"Quite an impressive young lady.", he said and tilted the Princess's head up a bit with his hand before moving his claws back to himself. "We're all very proud of her.", he says and places an arm around her shoulder, pushing her a little close.

Having enough, the King cleared his throat.

"Charlie! Dear.", he said before pushing between the two, getting them separated. "Why don't you introduce me to your OTHER friends!", he pointed towards the group with his end of his staff.

"Oh! Yes, of course!", Charlie said and began introducing Vaggie to her father.

Then someone got his attention with a tap on his arm.

Snapping his head towards the person, he saw the Lilith look alike move their hand back.

"Oh, I apologize. I called out to you but got no response.", they said with a bit of a frown. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"Upset?", he questioned, still wearing his smile.

"Yes, you furrowed your brows a bit when I tapped you.", the small blonde gestured with their finger.

How observant..

"No, I am not upset at all!", he gave a quick closed eyed smile. "And your name is..?"

"Oh, I'm-"

And then they were interrupted when the chandelier fell.

This was supposed to be a oneshot but then I remembered how detailed this would have to be.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @117s-girl @spiderlegsling @alastorsgoldie @repentant-repeller @kcsketches @lofasofabread @kotaleee @im-coolrat @superzombiewho @speckle-meow-meow @jammcookie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @trashbin-nie @koioli @fatherlesschild2 @mmik3yy @just-here-reading @nealeart @hudiexiaoying @crystal-multiplefandomlover @glowinggoldfish0 @tiredgamerhere @fluffy-koalala @valenfawkes @+?

ML II for Alastor🎙 | RP ChL 👑

[itstheghostofmypast]

Boiling Point

College AU Choi Jongho x (F)Reader

Summary: Crawling back to you, ever thought of calling when you've had a few? Cause he always did- enough for him to fall sick.

Genre: Hurt + Comfort

Word Count: 1.8K

Est. Read Time: 9 min

Warnings: Language

Rating: PG-13

Type: One-shot

Networks: @k-labels

Banner: @cafekitsune

Song Rec: Do I Wanna Know- Artic Monkeys

A/N: I can not explain how much I hate this man for battling with the other Choi I'm obsessed with- my laptop isn't even working and I typed this like a raccoon since morning till noon. Yes, I prefer the original song more.

“He's sick.”

Mentally, yes, Choi Jongho was sick, at least according to you. Though to your knowledge, his current physical well-being was not at its finest. The golden boy who was never sick, never later and never wrong - though he did prove to be an idiot. Those two words were all it took for you to pull your hand out of your ‘date's’, looking up at him as he smiled at you with a knowing look, nodding at the direction of your object of infatuation and frustration.

You rang the doorbell, before looking into the paper bag, you had brought various things; ibuprofen, cough syrup, tissues, chocooates- honestly you didn't know what kind of bug he had but you knew why he was sick. You were about to ring the doorbell again, but the door opened, catching you off guard, a cuter version of Rudolf in front of you, sniffling as he looked away, mumbling, “What do you want?”

“My god, you are sick,” you sighed, moving in without his invitation, squeezing past him and the door, giving him a small smile, trying to ignore his bloodshot eyes and quivering lip.

With a heavy groan he slammed the door shut, not in the mood to deal with you right now, yet here he was walking into the open kitchen as he slouched against the counter, the creak of his barstool catching your attention as you dumped the contents of the premade soup in the water only for him to sigh, “You need to let it reach its boiling point first.”

“Sometimes it's better to handle things without reaching a definite reaction point.” You mumbled, stirring the pot with a wooden spoon, watching the contents slowly dissolve, too afraid to look at him. Honestly, you thought he had moved on. Why else would he have not reacted when you told him about your date. He had always been very expressive and vocal about things he didn't like, never bottling up his feelings of disapproval. Initially, you had found him very rude, even complaining to Hongjoong about how his ‘friend’, was actually a rude a-hole who'd take advantage of the group because he was the youngest. A bit far-fetched for sure, but who could blame you? Nobody likes overhearing someone complain about them.

“I'm telling you, hyung, she's only friends with you because she wants a good grade.”

“Jongho, we've been friends since school, trust me, if anything, I became friends with her to pass 4th grade math.”

Unknown to either of them, you had walked into the room when they were having this conversation. Mind you, the library is no place for gossip. What Choi Jongho did not expect, but Kim Hongjoong did expect, was for you to confront them.

“If you don't like me, just say it. I won't waste my efforts trying to befriend you.”

Jongho had been too stunned to speak. Confrontation was not his strong suit, especially when it involved someone he wasn't particularly close to, and yes, once you had stormed out, he had felt horrible. He had asked Hongjoong for advice who had told him to let you be, “It'll pass. She'll cool down eventually.”

Only you didn't. Instead, you had decided to ignore him, and for some reason, that bothered him tremendously. You had ignored him during a group presentation, only talking to him if no one was around to convey your message, only smiling at him during the presentation and once that was done you walked away like he didn't exist. You had turned down a few invites because of him, and if somehow Hongjoong had convinced you to come, you'd stick around someone other than him, particularly Yunho. It was weird actually, Yunho just always had something to say to you, and for some reason, you always ended up giggling or smiling at him, for more unforseen yet illogical reason, everytime his eyes would land on your smiling face he wished that it were him who you were laughing with.

So from that day onwards he had slowly started to warm up to you, starting off with approaching you after class, looking at you when you looked right through him, only to frown when he didn't move out of your way, instead he mumbled an apology, cringing when you scoffed, “What was that? I didn't hear you?” Oh, you had heard him alright, but you weren't going to let him off easy just because most of his friends babied him -

“I said I'm sorry. I shouldn't have assumed such things about you, especially when I didn't know you well enough.”

That's all it took, though. You were confrontational, but you were also an uncannily forgiving person. A decent apology and your brain would reboot, something Jongho had realised when you had brought cookies to a study session in the library, making sure to give him one with a smile- a smile that had him gulping down his heart that had been climbing up his throat to run to its new owner. He was glad you were like this, though. He'd cringe at the thought of what he had said about you every time he'd think about it and hear you were, pretending it had never happened. One thing was for sure now, Jongho didn't want to say anything to upset you because deep down, he had realised he was smitten.

“Didn't you have a date?” He sighed, pressing his forehead against the cool counter top, everything hurt. His head, his joints, his back, his shoulders, his heart-

“Sit up straight, Choi Jongho.” You huffed, placing the bowl of warm soup in front of the crouching boy, “And it wasn't a date, can't a guy and girl just be friends?”

With a groan, he sat up, rubbing his neck like an old man, damn, that's what he gets for making fun of his hyung. He frowned and looked at her before glancing down at the soup, mumbling as usual, “Not if that guy is Yunho.”

You paid no mind to his grumbling. He was a bit under the weather. You knew that, and if your suspicions were right, you knew why he was sick. You weren't going to bring it up though, you were following Yunho’s advice, and at this point, you weren't sure if it had backfired or- you clicked your tongue at the mess in his room God, sometimes you wanted to best him up - he'd been spending too much time with Hongjoong.

You picked up the blanket and tossed it back on the bed before going to the window and opening it, letting fresh air into the room. A bit of cross ventilation didn't hurt anyone.

Jongho sniffled as he stared at his empty bowl, he could hear your muffled complaining, talking about how much of a mess he had made- it was ironic how she didn't realise the mess she has made of him, moping around, drowning in self pity at the thought of her slipping through his fingers. He heaved off the stool, trying to keep his balance as he dragged his feet to his bedroom, where he saw you fluffing the pillows. Could you fluff his heart like that, too?

You looked up at him and frowned, about to say something, he looked worse than before, “Jjong, how about we go to the doctor-YOU PSYCHO!”

Your shriek caused his head to ache, but it didn't matter. His heart was already in more pain. He was rolling on the bed, kicking the blanket to roll into it like a burrito before grabbing a pillow and grumbling, “I wanna sleep.”

Shaking your head in disbelief you slapped his shoulder, hard enough for him to glare up at you, pushing the blanket aside to say something only for you to cut him off, “Can you stop being so stubborn and say it already!?”

“Say what!?” He spat back only for his breath to hitch when he saw the way you deflated, your shoulders slumping as she sat on your knees on the mattress, twirling your thumbs before staring at the blanket between the two of you, “Nothing.”

You were about to leave when he gripped your wrist, causing you to turn and glance at him mumbling, “Jongho…you're burning up, let's-”

“Please don't go…” he mumbled before pulling you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, ignoring how you squeaked, though he noticed how you sighed against him, and wrapped an arm around his shoulders, fingers tangling in his tuft of soft unruly hair.

“You wanna talk about it?” You sighed, closing your eyes when he pulled you closer, shaking his head.

“Why, Jjong?”

“Don't…wanna upset you.” He sighed, trying not to think of the image of you frowning of him, the thought of you avoiding him because of his selfishness.

“I won't be…Jongho…Nothing’s ever stopped you before from speaking your mind-”

“I don't wanna be selfish, okay? I'd…rather we be friends than nothing at all.” You ducked down to look at him, only for him to avert his gaze, moving so he was closer to you, snuggled in your embrace.

“I don’t think I'd let just a friend press himself against me like that, you dumbo.”

Your words caused his grip to tighten, a day chuckle leaving his body, when he felt you move a bit, enough for your head to lay on the pillow, staring at the wall, gently scratching his scalp, as he whispered against your skin, “I kinda want to be more…”

“Me too, Jjong…”

You got to no reaction from him, smiling when you noticed how he had dozed off, his body relaxing against yours, completely vulnerable to your touch- oh Choi Jongho, what an idiot, a man who was actually sick because of love- he was love sick. Maybe, if he hadn't let it simmer for so long, it wouldn't have boiled out. Who knew he was afraid of Yunho wooing you, when clearly, he had been trying to convince you that Jongho was a great guy, who actually liked you- he was only unable to “comprehend” how much he had liked you.

You smiled to yourself before kissing the top of his head, mumbling a, “Get well soon, you silly goose.” Before drifting off to a comfortable sleep.

Though that didn't last long, because you were rudely shook out of your blissful sleep, cracking open and eye to glare at the pink faced man with a his hair pointing at every direction, as if it were electrocuted by your love-

“You were serious, right?”

You scoffed at his question before turning to your side, pulling the blanket closer, ignoring the moron who was hovering over you, only for him to peck your cheek and jump off the bed, leaving you stunned as you whipped around like a mad woman- the balls this man had-

“Welp, guess I feel better already, tell you what, I'm gonna go shower and change and then we can go out and eat something.”

You raised your brows at the man in front of you, his hands on hips as he smirked at you, causing you to sigh and close your eyes, “Thought you were sick.”

“Turns out all I needed was a nice warm hug!” He yelled, walking out of the room, adding something that had her sit up all embarrassed and flushed, “AND THOSE SOFT PILLOWS REALLY GAVE ME AN ENERGY BOOST!”

God, he was an idiot…but…he was her idiot.

[bluepeachstudios]

So. Cass' Apocalyptic Series by @somerandomdudelmao just ended.

I have many emotions none of which I can properly convey through words or anything. CAS itself has been a continuing beacon of creative light that's been lovely to see progress, and has inspired me through so many things, and I could go on about it but I cannot get into it without crying so I won't, I hope the sentiment comes across.

Cass did fanart of Ghost in the Shell HERE. It was like. I dunno. The third or fourth drawing of GitS I'd gotten from someone else? And the fact that Cass of all people had done it was like, wild to me at the time. I was still kind of reeling from the fact that people even liked my work at all? But Cass said it was good and I was like "oh damn must be good then" and kept writing. She also did THIS animation of Ghost which I still cry at whenever I watch it it's fine.

THEN THE PEEPAW POLLS HAPPENED. OH LORD. I made so many friends. I met so many people through that. I've never. In my life had this many people I could just talk to at any time. I never knew what to say either so I ended up just hanging out and getting dragged wherever the wind took me. It got me into doing polls in general!

Ghost made it to the FINAL ROUND??? Still confused about that. Then Uncle Tello won and Cass did a comic and I wrote something and I cried when I read the comic and I was still kind of processing so I ended up drawing something as well.

Then the next time GitS and CAS met was at the TMNT AU competition. It happened. Like almost DIRECTLY after Uncle Tello died in CAS so I was processing again and I do that through Ghost apparently so I drew a lil comic and wrote a lil somethin.

And then they never met again! But I like to think that some version of Ghost somewhere got to see the end.

GitS Part 2 has been kinda hard for me to write. I had to take a big break from it due to health stuff, and getting back into writing it wasn't as easy as before. And even after Part 2 is over, I still have the movie to do. My interest in TMNT is never going away, even after GitS I have other projects I want to finish, and that I've wanted to work on while writing GitS, but. y'know.

I'm determined to finish it. Drawing an x on my wrist. I really want to give Ghost the ending I've been imagining. And Cass has been someone really cool to look up to while I've been working on that.

So. Yeah. If Cass can get to the good ending, maybe I can do it too.

Love you Cass. Thanks for everything!

[justwinginglife]

Can I please request the kafgang investigating a crankier than usual platoon leader reader? They assume its just a woman getting irritated because she looks like she's gaining weight but it's just her pregnancy belly showing with hoshina's baby...

Pregnancy hormones amirite? (I've never been pregnant before)

LOL I've also never been pregnant before but I love this prompt and I will do my best with it!

Soshiro loved that you were pregnant with his child. And not just because he'd done some delicious love making to get you pregnant, and not just because the idea of having tons of adorable little children running around was so precious to him, no- he loved that you were pregnant because he enjoyed all the ridiculous demands that you made.

Oh, today you wanted peanut butter on pickles? Sure, he could slather them up for you.

Oh, now you were crying because the sky was too blue today and it hurt your eyes? Alright, he could try a little rain dance to bring the clouds rolling in.

Oh, you didn't like the ending of a movie that was made decades ago and wanted him to fix it? Slightly more difficult, but he made bank as Vice Captain, he was sure he could hire a film crew and some actors and have that ready for you in a jiffy.

And then when the other officers started to pick up on your pregnancy-induced attitude, but didn't pick up on the pregnancy-induced part, he enjoyed it all the more. They figured you were just cranky because you woke up on the wrong side of the bed, or it was your time of the month, but when your belly started to show more proof of Soshiro's love, they attributed your irritation to gaining weight rather than gaining a child.

And you had no idea, because no one would dare tell a Platoon Leader they were getting fat. So instead you had to deal with random outbursts of "It's okay, Platoon Leader L/N, you're still beautiful as ever," or "I know this great workout if you're interested," or "Honestly, metabolism is overrated anyway."

It wasn't even the words that they said that bothered you as much as just the act of them talking at all, their voices sounded like nails on a chalkboard to you, it was like the pregnancy version of a hangover- you just wanted everyone to be quiet.

Soshiro caught on and he steered everyone away from you until you could tolerate noise again, but not before he'd had a good laugh. Of course, if anyone dared to mention aloud that you were gaining weight or you looked different, like you were letting yourself go, he'd shut it down in an instant- towering over them with a booming voice and a threatening glare. But it cracked him up to see how cute your little nose was when you scrunched it up, confused at their attempts to make conversation with you. And it cracked him up that you were so obviously pregnant in his eyes and yet no one else had drawn that conclusion yet. He wondered just how bulging your belly had to be for it to register.

He thought he might make a game out of it, creating a points system in his head for each officer and awarding them whenever one of them got even remotely close to guessing correctly.

Shinomiya noticed that your requests had been seemingly bizarre lately and as you were a woman that she respected very much for your skill and your intellect, she knew there had to be a better reason for the fog in your brain. Point for her.

Nakanoshima noticed you'd thrown up in a nearby vase and while the men attributed it to food poisoning, she'd pondered a little bit harder about when the last time you asked to borrow a tampon from her was. Point for her.

Minase noticed (shyly) that your boobs were looking a little more rounded and plump than they usually did, and made a comment that maybe pregnancy would aid her flat chest as well. Double points for her.

Really at this point, it seemed the women were catching on faster than the men. Soshiro was suddenly embarrassed of his own gender when he had this realization.

He thought he might just break one day, screaming "I FUCKED A BABY INTO HER BELLY YA IDIOTS!!!"

But he didn't have to do that. Because one day, you'd strolled in while everyone was training and snorted loudly, saying "Wow, I could beat the entire sorry lot of you all at once even pregnant. Laps around the perimeter people!"

Everyone's eyes widened and their jaws dropped (the women a little less so than the men).

They'd barely had time to process this new information when you'd repeated in a louder tone, "Did I stutter? LAPS AROUND THE PERIMETER!"

And then they ran off, terrified at the thought of just how much torture one pregnant lady could dole out.

And Soshiro smirked again, amused as ever.

"Ahh, that's my baby. Almost makes me want to fill you up again."

[jarofstyles]

shy y/n accidentally calls harry daddy bc shes cockdrunk while theyre fucking and harry is so taken back that he cums on the spot 🫣

Omg omg omg omg

Patreon

----

Harry was convinced that Y/N was his soul mate well before it happened.

Perhaps for some, it could be considered intense, but he knew what he wanted in life. He knew he loved her by their 4th date, he knew he wanted to marry her by the 7th, and now they'd been committed to one another for about 6 months. It was incredible to have someone you just.... know is yours.

They were a bit opposite, Y/N and him. Harry was a lot more outgoing, a lot more experienced in the ropes of life, but especially sexually. Y/N hadn't done much of anything prior to Harry, and he had the honors of introducing her to a whole plethora of things. Lots of kinks they'd dipped their toes into and Y/N gave her feedback on.

She was shy beyond what he was used to, but he found it endearing. He didn't mind working her through her shyness and building her up so she felt comfortable enough to speak to him and tell him what she liked, what she wanted to try. So far, she had gone off of what Harry had admitting to liking- at least the tamer stuff- and he was more than happy with her progress. All he cared about was her comfort and pleasure.

She liked spanking with his hand, wasn't too fond of a a paddle, thoroughly mewled when he had slipped his thumb over her tightest hole, enjoyed that he was in charge and she was his sweet little baby. They'd gone slower but Harry had been more than honest with her about his likes and his preferences. Y/N appreciated honesty more than anything, even when it hurt because lies were her number one hate. The sweet girl didn't dislike much, but dishonesty was one of them.

When she had sniffed out that he had been hiding something, he was quick to fess up that he'd been a bit anxious that it would be too much or too odd for her given this conversation had happened only after the 3rd time they'd had sex, so he had admitted that he preferred a certain honorific- Daddy- and that he wouldn't ever make her feel bad for not wanting to call him that if she so chose. Y/N hadn't said much about it since.

Not until tonight.

Deep inside, Harry watched her puffy, pretty cunt spread open as she took his cock. it was sticky with her arousal and his spit, her ass recoiling when his thighs hit it. It was a glorious scene, one of the sexiest things Harry ever had the privilege of seeing with his own eyes. She was making a mess on his length, a mess of glistening slick and creamy smears that were settling on the base making the sight almost too much for Harry to handle.

Then there were the moans, the sweet, delightful little 'uh's' that left her Scarlet painted lips. He'd taken her out on a date to a lovely little restaurant and when they arrived home she had kissed him deep, leading to this moment right here. Her dress discarded across his bedroom floor and her face resting on his pillow as he fucked into her needy cunt. Sweet calls of his name, for more, for him not to stop, she was getting more and more vocal as the pleasure began to raise and he was doing everything he could to make it even better for her.

"There we go, my love." He purred. "Can feel it, you're about to cum f'me again." The encouragement always did it for her, his hand squeezing her plump ass as he pounded away into her. "Perfect little pussy for my perfect girl. M'so obsessed with you." He wanted to give her another, knowing she was going places she hadn't been before by her babbling and clenching at his pillow but she hadn't called for him to stop- if anything, she asked for more. Harry couldn't get enough, so he was holding off his orgasm just to see her do it for him.

"M'gonna, m'gonna cum, m'gonna- please, can I?" Watery eyes looked up at him, the perfect version of his destroyed sweet peach as mascara smeared slightly under her eye. "Can I cum, can I please? M'good, m'so good, m'a good girl, I need to." Her rambles only made him love her more, despite her knowledge.

"Go on, my sweet girl. Let go f'me." He cooed, continuing the pace as he watched her unfold in front of him. He could feel it, feel her rippling around his cock and the gush of her arousal as she let out a squeal. Relishing in the feeling of her trembling under him, when she said something that caught him off guard. One, whimpery, pathetic sentence that had him almost keeling over.

"D-Daddy, want your cum, let me have it, please...."

As soon as it hit him what she said, he couldn't stop himself. Balls pulling up and cock throbbing as he emptied hot cum into her, a low groan leaving his mouth as it stayed open. Feeling her orgasm start to wane but pussy stilll clenching, milking him of his cum, he was careful as he fell over and held himself on top of her, hips stuttering as he tried to gather his bearings.

His Y/N, his sweet, delicate Y/N had just called him Daddy while begging for his cum. There was no way his orgasm could have withstood it. She probably would be slightly embarrassed when she realized what she said, but he was in heaven. He hoped it showed an inner want to call him that, that it was in her mind when they were intimate because she could see him like that. At the end of the day, all he wanted to do was take care of his precious girl, make sure she was cared for and comfortable.

"There she is. My perfect angel." he panted. "Daddy's here, m'giving it all to you now." Lips pressed to her sticky cheek, nudging his nose lovingly against it. "M'all yours, forever."

[thisischaostragic]

one aspect of ghost agatha that i really love and think has a lot of potential is that, for the first time in their entire relationship, agatha is able to engage with rio as only her lover.

agatha's life has been marked by people who are supposed to love and care for her wanting her dead, and then the one person who actually does show her genuine love and care is also the one entity who is literally required to enforce her death one day. i suspect that their breakup wasn't only about rio taking nicky, but also about agatha realizing that no amount of love and care will prevent rio from "betraying" her. rio is the natural order of all things, and agatha is a mortal(ish) speck of dust. and she gets stubborn and defensive and angry because what the hell else is she supposed to do? how do you break up with somebody who you already know you'll die beside? adding to the mix, of course, that agatha clearly doesn't actually want to break up with rio, it's kinda horrifying. rio is everywhere, rio is inevitable, and if rio truly wanted to wield the full extent of her power over agatha, there would be absolutely fucking nothing agatha could do about it.

and yet... they are SO in love, and they want each other so badly, and they are totally able to just... get back together. but agatha, being agatha, absolutely will not apologize while she's in a position of cosmic submission. but agatha, also being agatha, figured out a way to get herself away from the reaches of rio's power. and i guess you could interpret that as her pushing rio away, but i very much think that it's the only thing that could possibly allow agatha to be vulnerable with rio again. she's no longer preemptively grieving the pain of rio watching her die and not intervening, because, well, we got that over with! agatha gets to just be death's controversially young wife, and they can finally have a conversation... not quite as equals, but much closer, which i suspect would allow a softer version of agatha to emerge now that she's done waiting for the other shoe to drop.

[brucewaynehater101]

I’d love to see more of the Emotional Marks AU. I want to see the reveal and the Bats having the realization that just because they’re doing better /now/, it doesn’t fix the damage they did before. And that they can’t force things to heal. Healing takes time.

Post being mentioned is here

What I'm curious about is if it's a human only thing or if others (like Kyrptonians, Martians, Atlanteans, etc.) also get marks.

Anyways, here's some more stuff I thought of. As always, take as little or as much as you'd like of it ^^

Tim never takes off the object hiding his marks, even for himself. It's part habit and part desperation to never see how much his loved ones have actually hurt him.

He's unique in that he isn't sure where most of his marks come from. People usually see the marks within 24 hours of their appearance. Tim has gone years between seeing his own marked skin.

As I've stated before, the object works like glamor. Therefore, those with enough magic power would be able to see past it. This is part of why Tim wanted pants for the Robin uniform (any magicians working with Robin would see the moment they saw any of Tim's bare skin). Tim is very lucky the marks on his face only appeared a bit before he became Red Robin (and part of his reason for the cowl).

Marks typically stay away from the face. They only appear there if symbolically significant or if the marks are running out of space elsewhere on the body. Bart and Kon dying really did a number on Tim even though it wasn't their fault.

YJ and Dick have helped soothe some of the marks left behind by the Drakes (and Bruce too if you want good dad Bruce). Quite a bit have even fully disappeared due to them.

Tim still collected them like Halloween candy, though.

Major marks and their placement [though feel free to offer different ideas]:

Bruce calling Tim "Jason" - x on the back of neck

16th birthday - Major gash on right temple hidden by hair

Janet dying - splintering cracks along hand (bigger version of the one Janet fakes)

Jack coma then death - line in left calf then up to mid back of thigh

Bart dying - right side from under armpit to end of ribs gash

Kon dying - giant oval over sternum

Jason's TT attack - left foot/ankle cracks

Damian's attacks - stomach area

Losing Robin - largest slash diagonal across back (left shoulder to right hip)

There's more marks, but the ones on his face are caused by people not believing in him [this is not a "they should have" argument. It would have hurt regardless of what they should have done]

Hmm... So, the reveal? I'm thinking a magician. This would be after Tim switches back to just a mask and no cowl. His face marks would be on display for magicians but no one else. He, wrongly, assumed he'd be fine.

He's playing nice with the Bats at this point, even if he doesn't fully trust them. He loves them and wants to keep the peace. He'd never voluntarily show them his marks or tell them about it.

The Bats are being nicer under the idea that their assumptions about markless were incorrect. It weirds Tim out and usually has him ghosting them for a few days if they try to initiate feeling conversations with him. He kind of wishes they would just go back to normal.

It's a few months of this behavior before some magician makes a remark about Tim's facial marks. Something along the lines of, "You okay, Red? You're aware of how dangerous it is for marks to progress as far as the face, right?"

Cause what happens when there's no more room for marks? Drastic decrease in physical health. Could lead to death.

The Bats overhear and promptly freak the fuck out again.

Tim, who has been dealing with their bullshit for the last few months and doesn't want to deal with the confrontation, disappears. He's waiting for them to process their shit before returning [he loves them but does not want to be caught in that fucking whirlwind. Bats notoriously do not handle emotions well]

[writingoddess1125]

Kofi Request

If you want to make request like this one check out my Kofi!

Kurt Wagner x FemReader

Chocolate Relief ���

NOTE!: So this takes place after X2 but before the 3rd Movie, I had to do some math as well since this version was born in the 60s so all are adults of respecting age (ballpark Kurt is in his 40s?). (This actually kind of plays well with the drug themes) And per request it is hinted reader has some sort of mermaid/siren mutation however vague enough for personal preference. I tried

⚠️ Warnings: ⚠️ Drug Use, High Sex, Mentions of War, Rough/Mildly public sex, Slightly twisted Kurt

18+ Below

Great.

Who doesn't love being slid into the breaking point of a war?

Losing Jean..?

Everyone on the brink of a total breakdown?

What a time to be alive.

(Y/N) stood outside of the Mansion, scratching at the scales of her arm as she looked out at nothing in particular. Her mind drifting to the utter depths of how she could survive.. what she could have done, could do.

"Fuck I need a smoke-" She grumbled in what can only be called numb exhaustion.

"Is it weird to think that someone ment for water smokes so much?-" She hears a soft voice next to her. Glancing to see Bobby standing there, clearly as broken as the others.

"What can I say- I enjoy a mellow time" (Y/N) said softly. "Especially after this shit show..." She Mumbled, her fingers scratching at the scales of her arm again, Bobby reaching out and grabbing her hand to pull away- Showing the blood dripping from where she was scratching, some of those pretty opal like scales having been scratched off and on the ground.

"Let's not mutilate ourselves- Especially resident mermaid chick-"

(Y/N) stared at her now bleeding arm and groaned in frustration.

"This is too fucking much- I'm calling my plug" She grumbled pulling out her flip. Bobby tsking at this.

"You can't be serious- You are honestly trying to buy drungs, at a school with a dude who reads minds?"

"Pretty sure my little indulgence isn’t his biggest concern," " She pointed out a bit sharper then she ment. Bobby face twisting slightly as he nodded and walked off- Leaving (Y/N) to her devices.

Rubbing her face she marched back inside of the Mansion, a scowl now on her face as she wanted to just hide in her room.

"Hey (Y/N)!"

That rather sweet heavily accented voice called out, coming down the stairs in truthfully a rather ungrateful manner was Kurt. A small smile on his lips. (Y/N) letting a soft smile go across her face- How can anyone be in a bad mood at the sight of the blue fanged mutant standing there in far too baggy clothes. 

"Hey Blueberry"

(Y/N) said softly, smiling at the resident teleporter who had become a sweet friend in these trying times.

"You're bleeding-" He said softly catching her injury almost immediately, (Y/N) didn't even get a chance to explain before a cloud of blue sulfur like gas puffed in her face.

And just like that he was gone, (Y/N) chuckling plopped down on a step figuring it was best to wait it out.

He had been nothing but a sweetheart the entire time he had been there, the two of them almost immediately hitting it off as well. (Y/N) having caught most didn't really talk to Kurt as he was a bit awkward at times, so she went a bit out of her way to speak with him- This lead to him opening up and being a cheerful bean, The two often sitting there chatting with each other for hours on end.

Paired with the rather obvious crush the little German dude had.

She knew, she wasn't an idiot afterall- A blue guy turning a deep purple when she had to make adjustments in her uniform and jumped a few times making him look away shyly.

So Yeah it was pretty obvious. But apparently the one she had on him was not as noticeable-

With another nice 'Bamf' to the face. He had returned with the medical kit in his hands, clumsily pulling out some bandages and taking a seat next to her- Kurt cleaning the scales as softly as possible seeming so stressed at seeing the patches missing or just hanging there and dressing them.

"Why is so much off?" He mumbled softly, worry in his voice.

"I scratched at it. Stress- call it a bad tick I guess"

His eyes flicked up to look at her face, understanding immediately- The two now sitting in silence as Kurt finished up.

(Y/N) smiled, looking at the well dressed bandages over her scales.

"The sweetheart strikes again"

He blushed at this, his tail coiling on himself slightly.

"Of course" He said softly, messing with his hands a bit.

“I know right now it is.. Not good.. Can we watch tv together?.. Still?” (Y/N) eyes softened at hearing this, it dawned on her a little that he most likely wanted some company especially during these times. Companionship and to not grieve alone. 

“Of course, sounds like a good thing right now” Kurt smiled at hearing this, standing up and of course helping (Y/N) up as well just to be a gentleman it seemed, Before her phone jingled, Quickly finishing it from her pocket with a bit of excitement. 

“Who is that?” He asked rather fast, Making (Y/N) smirk a bit- Green was definitely a new color on Kurt it seemed. 

“I'm just waiting for a friend to come by-” 

She looked at her phone for a sec seeing the message on her little phone. Smiling at it. 

“Looks like Tomorrow-” He raised a brow at this, a small slip of curiosity and jealousy going over his face.

“Your friend?” His face scrunching up a bit as (Y/N) poked his nose. 

“Yep, Shes my Kinda Friend. Now come on, we still have more Disney movies to go through” She said, patting his arm softly as the two headed out to watch some movies. 

“What is a Kinda Friend?” 

"Thank you oh sweet Canada"

(Y/N)  Mumbled as she thanked the heavens above, Happy her hookup was willing to bring some of the good stuff down in such short notice.

"Your favorite Gardener is here~" Jane said cheerfully, Happy to meet close to the Mansion in a little secluded area on the side.

"Yeah Gardener my ass- You can make these things in your sleep, Green Thumb Mutant"

"What I decide to do with my mutation is my business that you very much" (Y/N) chuckled as Jane stuck her tongue out at her playfully.

“You know you're quite warm blooded for a dealer” (Y/N) pointed out gesturing to the obviously brightly colored get-up.

“Being a polite innocent one is far easier to move around then a dark hoodie and smelling like cigarettes. Besides I'm not a dealer, I'm a Gardener” Jane said in a sing song voice opening her purse calmly as she dug into it.

"Alright, So I got some of the OG Kush Classic, Girl Scout Cookies very sweet, and Northern Lights super relaxing-"

(Y/N) had to snort over a laugh. "Not a dealer my ass-”

However she thoughts soon went over the impending war- How she would cope.. If she would even live… Or Jean?

"Northern Lights.. As much as you can give"

Jane nodded as she pulled out the little baggy and handed it over to (Y/N) who pocketed it. Jane could see the stress on her face, the 'Gardner' glanced around again as she dug into her purse again.

"And here, since you seem a bit stressed" Jane mumbled before passing over a chocolate bar.

"A chocolate bar?" (Y/N) Deadpanned- looking over the clearly handmade bar wrapped in plastic wrap with a folded note somewhere in the plastic mess.

"No No, You see- I had a vision of infusions. Infusing the best of my darling works into easy to ingest getups. Like Brownies but for anything. So far I got chocolate bars and muffins down" She said proudly, (Y/N) shrugging at least mildly impressed.

"Alright I guess?"

"And I'm sure it will lead to fantastic stress relief"

Jane winked at her dear friend, (Y/N)  laughed at this as she passed over the cash to Jane.

"Alright I'll take your word on it- All it's there" (Y/N) said smoothly as she began walking off leaving her 'Gardener' There who smiled brightly.

"See yea (Y/N)!" Jane called out as the two departed. (Y/N) giving a passing thumbs up. 

(Y/N) made her way back to the Mansion fairly quick, calm as she walked past the group of people speaking over plans and ideas- Aka more stress then she wanted to deal with at the moment.. Slipping into her room as quickly as possible she prepared.. 

A towel under the door, window open and incense burning… Perfect. 

Now for the moment of truth- 

In about an hour (Y/N) was lit up, Laid back with her equipment of choice next to her (Blue Bong) and staring up at the ceiling. Reaching in to possibly pack another bowl when she remembered the chocolate bar.

Sitting up she snagged it quickly and began to unwrap- She was hungry anyway so a chocolate bar sounded pretty good. Unwrapping the homemade packing she pulled out the little note attached and quickly read through it.

'Sweet Spot- a fun bar to get you in the mood ;3 '

‘'Ah Hell Jane-'’ She grumbled as her face scrunched up at the Fugly looking bar.

(Y/N) needed something to relax- not one to bring her up. Rolling the chocolate bar back up and looking over the label again. No ingredients listed which seemed sketchy as hell if not expected.

"The fuck did you put in this Jane.."

Yeah no- She wasn't eating this. Tossing the note in the trash she walked out, making sure to peak around first before making her way to the kitchen. Sneaking down to the main kitchen as the clearly high as fuck Mutant still clutching the chocolate bar slowly slide herself to the fridge

Tossing the bar in the fridge as she grabbed some food- 'Thank you Ororo for keeping the fridges stocked you magical women of all that is good' (Y/N) quickly shoving a slice of whatever pizza this was in her mouth as she snuck back upstairs to her room.

As if the cosmos had willed in, Kurt made his way downstairs as worry painted his face. Rubbing his hands together in worry, his rosary starting to leave marks on his skin with how much he was messing with them. He had been meeting with the others about strategies, Scott crying and overall feeling a wash of fear hitting him. 

Opening the fridge prepared to just get some water so he could pray in his room or do something to get his mind off of well- everything right as he sees some chocolate- ugly looking chocolate but chocolate non the less, hesitantly he takes it and the said water and settles down. Kurt sits there staring into space, breaking off a bit of the sweet treat- it was a small comfort however was something he figured no one would miss since it had clearly been thrown so harshly in the back. Chewing slowly Kurt could taste a weird- ting to it?

Looking it over he assumed this must be what American chocolate tasted like- he heard it was bad but didn't expect this truthfully.

He didn't see any sort of labeling but shrugged non the less- He wasn't in a position to complain.

He finished the odd tasting candy and went to settle in one of the many livingrooms, Turning on the TV as he laid on his side letting the numbing sound of infomercials wash over him. Kurt starting to giggle a bit to himself and feels a warm wash fall over him.

Relaxed and overall- Fuzzy? Rubbing his face which seemed to tingle slightly as he let his mind wonder- a grin going over his lips.

It wasn't for another hour when (Y/N) ventured back down stairs after the cotton mouth and some need some additional snacks as round two kicked in, (Y/N) walking over to the fridge and looked around. Snagging once again a random assortment of items.

In the livingroom (Y/N) steps by and seems something moving on the couch, leaning over she sees Kurt on his side facing the TV and squirming weirdly. His tail coiled around himself as he seemed to chuckle at nothing? 

"Blue? You alright?"

She asked softly, placing a hand on his back. Kurt rolled up rather fast surprising (Y/N) as he looked to her, a fanged smile greeting her as he starred in what was nothing short of admiring. 

"Are you okay? You seem a bit uh" She reached forward to check his forehead however he captured her hand quickly and kissed her hand. Watching the way (Y/N) flushed bright red.

“Du bist wunderschön”

He said softly, almost dreamy? (Y/N) still red in the face, swallowed a bit thickly.

"Kurt you know I don't know German" She said softly watching as Kurt gently pulled her close to the back of the couch to meet him as close as possible.

“Ich war von Anfang an in dich verliebt”

He said softly, His free hand reaching up to place on her flushed cheek gently caressing it- Kurt leaning forward slightly so they were perfectly eye to eye.

"Do you dislike?" He asked softly, clearly wanting to not overstep. (Y/N) placing her hand on his that laid on her cheek. "I like.." She said shyly, the space between them closing in as he laid soft kisses on her cheek and over her flushed face- Seeing how she leaned into his touches, as he laid a kiss on the corner of her lips seeing how she tried to meet his but he pulled back slightly- almost as if he was teasing her.

"Can I?" He whispered softly, as she nodded once more, In a second he lips crashed into hers. She practically melted against him, His surprisingly soft lips flushed against her as she enjoyed every second of the sweet lips.. Very sweet lips, Almost like-

Chocolate?-

Herby Chocolate?

Ah Shit.

She pulled back quickly with wide eyes, Kurt looking just as surprised as she stared at his face. "Oh my god- You ate the chocolate I put in the fridge didn't you?"

Kurt raised an eyebrow at this and nodded.  

"T-That had er.. My drugs or.. whatever got put in there.." She mumbled embarrassed, Kurt raising both eyebrows at her in amusement.

“You.. Put drugs in Schokolade” He said almost amused.

“I am so sorry Blue, It wasn't my intension to.. I don't know how you feel about that and and..” She stopped her babbling as his arms wrapped around her waist, pressing his face into her neck (Y/N) feeling him smile against her skin. 

“Its okay.. No one is free of Sin” He said softly, (Y/N) catching a rather- New tone to his voice as well. 

"Are you mad?" She asked softly, Kurt moving to look her in the eyes as a playful smile went over his lips.

"Little.. But maybe if we kiss again id be less so?" He said softly, clearly testing the waters. Which earned a smile from (Y/N) as she giggled, leaning in close.

"How can I not agree to such a good offer?" She grinned and leaned in kissing him once more. The soft taste of herbs and chocolate filling her senses as (Y/N) couldn't help but moan against his lips.

Kurt pulled her over the back of the couch to join him, setting her on his lap and the two rocked against each other. Their arms wrapped around each other, (Y/N) rocking her hips against him earning a growl from him- (Y/N) feeling his erection against her core making a shiver go through her system. Kurt pulling back from the kiss as his yellow eyes found hers-

"Do you want to stop maus?" He asked softly, his hands still wrapped around her waist as he made sure the two of them stayed still till he was sure. (Y/N) smiled at him and nodded, leaning forward as she captured his lips once more. Wrapping their arms around each other once more.

The two sliding off the uncomfortable fancy couch, Kurt moving the two towards the nearest wall as the two hands explored each other. Kurt humming against her lips, His hands finding their way down her hips and grasping at the soft flesh of her ass as he lifted her- (Y/N) giving a surprised squeak at how easily he moved her.

Kurt's tail wrapping around the hem of her lounging pants and beginning to pull them down with ease. (Y/N) helping as she reached down to free Kurt from his own tented pants, quite surprised by the length that greeted her hands- Kurt giving a grunt at the feeling of her hands on him. His tail moving up to push up the top of her shirt just enough to see her exposed breast in the evening air-

He locked eyes with her once more, his eyes clearly wishing to know she was okay with this- (Y/N) placing a kiss on his lips softly and nodding.

That final green light seemed to spring him into action closed the space between them as his tail snuggly wrapped around her thigh like a coil, caging her in- as if he was making sure she couldn't wiggle away. The head of his cock teasingly rubbing her folds as he pulled her onto him.

(Y/N) was no virgin, however this made her feel no better than one. Her hands wrapping around him tightly as he sunk into her, Only pausing briefly as he felt (Y/N) wrap around him so well once he bottomed out. What could only be described as a purr leaving him as he began to thrust into her immediately.

The snaps of his hips knocking the sweet idea of an innocent church boy from her mind as he hit every right spot lighting her body on fire- His cock rocking into her body like he was making sure she would never forget-

And she doubted she ever would.

Her nails clawing at the back of his shirt as a way to anchor herself at the bruising pace. His tail keeping her in a possessive lock as she whimpered and had moans tumble past her lips. Kurt pace began Faster, Harder and More brutal, bullying into her in the most pleasurable way.

(Y/N) desperately biting her lips to keep from making too much noise, tears prickling her eyes as Kurt rolled his hips into her- those dark blue curls rubbing against her clit making her whole body shutter, her face pressing into him as she tried to desperately keep from making too much noise, as his name whimpered past her lips like a prayer. Kurt grinning at the sight as hushed grunts left him-

Cute~

His tail released from her thigh before coiling around her waist tightly- freeing a hand which worked a way up to mouth silencing her- A impish smile on his face as he quickened his pace, grunting in her ear softly. "Cant wake the students maus~"

(Y/N) eyes widened as a surprise wave of arousal washed through her system, Kurt feeling her tighten around him as he began his brutal pace- Hearing her muffled moans and past against his palm, (Y/N) throwing her head back in bliss- Rationally seeming leaving the both of them as the lewd sounds filled the Livingroom.

Kurt stared at her exposed breast and neck, grunting with each thrust as he leaned forward and began to nip and suck on the soft skin starting at her chest- uncaring of the blooming marks on her skin as he let his fangs scrape against her- Feeling the broken moans against his callous palm as he continued to work (Y/N) poor body, Nipping and biting his way as he made sure to leave no spot unloved.

Hiccupped mewls leaving her throat as she felt his teeth run over her- Her nipples being treated by the flat of his skilled tongue and ending with fangs going over her as nips and scraps went over her skin leaving small cuts and marks, her pulse picking up in what could only be described as the most frightening primal arousal imaginable as his fangs danced over her neck as if playing with her- the coil in her stomach tightening with each harsh thrust into her no doubt bruised cunt- Her mind fuzzy by this point.

He sunk his teeth into that soft part of her neck, Feeling the mewling gasp of her against his palm- a rich cry ripping through her as her legs tightened and shook around him like a vice, her back arching as her chest pressed against him. Kurt grunted as he felt her walls wrap around him as she came- Whimpering against his palm as (Y/N) clawed at his back.

(Y/N) could see spots in her vision, Feeling the overstimulating feeling of Kurt's erratic and unsteady hips against her own- Bringing himself to his own climax with a few shuttered thrust barely having enough time to pull out of her as he came against her exposed thigh. Panting hard as managed to steady the two of them, Holding both of their spent forms against the wall.

Kurt gently pulling his hand from (Y/N) lips, hearing those shuttering pants leave her, Managing to place a few kisses on her lips as she returned them a bit sloppily from her blissed out state.

"I don't know we should order a pizza?-" "I don't know we had that yesterday?"

(Y/N) and Kurt's eyes widened like saucers as they heard the shuffle of people walking downstairs and clearly a younger group- Immediately Kurt teleported the two to his room before they could be seen- Kurt panting hard as the two where pressed against the wall of his bedroom. Still holding (Y/N) who was barely able to stand as she was still coming down from her high.

Slowly the two of them slid down the wall together, Kurt leaning on his forearms caging her in as the two sat against each other trying to ease themselves.

"I have never done that before-" He managed out, (Y/N) looking to him and smirking.

"Sex or the teleporting right after?" Kurt held up two of his three fingers indicating the ladder as he leaned back somewhat settled- The two staring at each other before breaking out in giggles. Kurt unwrapping his tail from her waist as the two sat on the floor, (Y/N) closing her legs a little and blushing deeply at the feeling of warmth still dripping from between her thighs.

After a few seconds of catching their breaths (Y/N) shyly looked to Kurt.

"Hey um.. I really am sorry Blue, I really didn't mean to well- Drug you by proxy" She said softly, However felt weirdly awkward by issuing an apology with her pants still down her ankles. Kurt blushed as he bit his bottom lip looking away, mainly yo avoid looking between her legs.

"Its fine.. It didnt last long anyway.." He mumbled softly. (Y/N) raising a brow at his choice of words and the sly look on his face. Before it clicked-

'No one is without sin'

"You little shit! It had worn off by then!" (Y/N) scolded as she smacked Kurt's shoulder who lowered his head in guilt. Mumbling about his mutation or whatnot under his breath.

"I'm Sorry.. A-Are you mad?" He mumbled, slyly tucking himself back into his trousers, Blushing as his tail twitched nervously behind him. (Y/N) sighed, crossing her arms as she looked down at him.

"A bit...But-"

She started, Kurt now looking up at her as she smirked at him. Giving him a playful wink.

"I know a way to be less so" She smiled, Kurt giving his impish smile as his tail swayed behind him quickly and excitedly.

"How can I not agree?~"

Bonus! 

(Y/N) Took another drag of her joint, sighing in relief as she felt the smoke wash over her lungs. This had been the perfect little hiding spot- Right under her window covered by some eucalyptus trees that covered the scent of her smoke.

She rolled her shoulder as she felt relaxation wash over her, She was still quite a bit sore from her and Kurt's rather.. eventful few days having sported a hoodie since the bites and scrapes on her neck made it looked like she was attacked by some sort of wild beast-

Closing her eyes she felt all tension leave her body- That was till the rustling of bushes to her left snapped her from said peace.

She jumped in surprise as she spotted Logan of all people- her and the male stared at each other, a bottle of bourbon in his hand as he stared at the joint in (Y/N)'s.

...

Slowly as a olive branch (Y/N) held out the joint to him silently, he narrowed his eyes before walked over and took it as he took a heavy drag. Settling not far from her as he passed it back, Logan opening his bourbon as he took a sip and seemed to sigh in relief himself.

The two of them silently enjoying their respective vices, Logan hesitated for a second before holding the bottle out to (Y/N) who silently took it and taking a swig before passing it back.

Logan eyes looked over (Y/N) silently, before spotting the carpet scrapes on her knees and picking up a particular scent just barely hidden under the herby smell- His nose wrinkled as he wiped the top of the bottle with his shirt and scowled.

"So it is the damn elf.."

He mumbled out, (Y/N) looking to him silently and raised a brow. Logan gesturing to the scrapped knees and tapping his nose, She had forgotten she was in her sleeping shorts still and having snuck down- Not anticipating seeing anyone..

The two stood in silence again, this time no passing taking place.

"...Say if a spare bottle were to appear here along with another few ounces- would all remain silent?" (Y/N) asked softly, glancing to Logan who narrowed his eyes silently.

"You got a deal-" He gruffed out taking another sip of his drink. "And if you ever take a sip of my drink with blue dick lips again I'll drop kick you"

(Y/N) chuckled at this as she gave a thumbs up at the other.

"Got yourself a deal-"

[scariusaquarius]

makin' a list.

CHRISTMAS ADVENT BONANZA 2K24 DAY 10: Wish List, Ken 'Okarun' Takakura

Ken 'Okarun' Takakura Summary: It had been a long time since Takakura had made anything akin to a wishlist. You sit down with him, however, to make one together.

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A/n: I have NEVER written for Okarun before so this will be the first time I ever write for him. I hope that you guys enjoy!

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Genre: Romance, Friendship, Humor Rated: Everyone Warning: Fluff, Ken is precious :3, nerding out

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Author: ScariusAquarius

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Ken Takakura hadn't made a wishlist since he was 9. When he had discovered that Santa Claus wasn't actually real, and it was just his parents putting the presents under his tree, Takakura had been devastated. It had made him become slightly jaded by the holiday, and so every year since then, Takakura made it a point to avoid doing anything Christmas-like.

Call him petty, but Takakura was truly betrayed.

That's how he began to become obsessed with the supernatural; researching anything about aliens and UFO's and things that go bump in the night. Coincidently, it was also how he met you.

You were just as obsessed about aliens and UFO's like he was; and when you had sat with him in the library, gushing about his alien book that he was reading; it was the start of something great, at least to him.

It wasn't easy for Ken to make friends, and you were his very first one he'd ever had. To say that Ken Takakura adored you would be an understatement.

Then, he met Momo Ayase, and everything changed. He got his penis and balls stolen, got cursed, got his penis back, then one of his balls back, and it was a whole ordeal that he tried desperately to keep you away from.

But you were always such a caring person, and though Takakura tried to protect you, you still got involved when Takakura suddenly wasn't around as much. Strangely enough, you had taken the news of his newfound power very well.

Nothing had changed despite this new development, but Takakura was thankful for that. In a way, you made him feel normal again. That was why on a Saturday afternoon, the two of you were huddled up in your room; Christmas-themed arts and crafts strewn around the room.

Glitter and marker ink stained your fingers, and Takakura was sitting at the desk, watching you as you made a popsicle-stick version of a gingerbread house. A pen was between his fingers, an empty sheet of paper in front of him; decorated with little reindeer and presents but otherwise blank besides the title you had made for him.

"You haven't made a christmas wishlist since you were 9?"

You didn't look at him, your face morphing into an expression of concentration as you carefully glued the popsicle sticks together; precise with your movements and placements.

"No. Ever since I found out Santa Claus wasn't real, I just never really had a good feeling about Christmas."

You pouted, glancing over at him and making his back tense slightly as you sighed.

"Aw, that's so sad though. You should still do one, you know? Even if Santa Claus isn't real, it'll still be a good way to figure out what you truly want for Christmas."

You did have a good point there, he supposed. Glancing back down at the paper, Ken Takakura was then stuck with a dilemma that he hadn't had to deal with for years.

What was it that he actually wanted for Christmas?

Sparing a glance at you, you had gone back to making your gingerbread house, the room filled with christmas music and the subtle sound of the two of you breathing, and Takakura could feel a blush begin to crawl up his neck as an idea struck him.

Carefully, his pen moved across the paper, and he began to write.

Kenny's Wishlist!

New Binoculars

Cryptology: A to Z

New pair of shoes

A kiss from (Y/n) (L/n)

Takakura swallowed thickly before he carefully, but quickly, but his list into the red envelope you had put onto the desk for him once he was done and sat back in his chair. You glanced up at him, raising a brow.

"Are you already done?"

"Yep."

You made a face at him, rolling your eyes and huffing.

"You better not have just left it blank."

"I didn't, I swear!"

He couldn't keep himself from blushing, clutching the wishlist close, and you shook your head at him, sighing and raising your hands in mock-surrender with a smile.

"Alright, alright, I'm just teasing you is all. Let's go put the envelope into the mailbox."

Takakura nodded, and the two of you stood up, brushing your clothes off, and you grabbed another red envelope from your bag. Takakura looked intrigued, asking as he adjusted his glasses and leaned down a bit.

"Is that your wishlist too?"

You smiled brightly, nodding to him and brushing it clean of any glitter, dust, or debris that had gotten onto it since the time of you making it until now.

"Yep. I got it done right around the beginning of December!"

Takakura hummed, asking you.

"What did you wish for?"

Your smile became soft and gentle, and you looked down at the envelope when the two of you made it to the mailbox.

(Y/n)'s Wishlist!

(first item)

(second item)

(third item)

A kiss from Ken Takakura

...

"Oh, you know...the usual Christmas list stuff."

Takakura didn't exactly know what that meant, but he didn't care. As long as you were happy and kept smiling like that, Takakura could live blissfully ignorant for the rest of his life. Placing his envelope into the mailbox alongside yours, he became shy, adjusting his glasses and voice shaky.

"Hey, would you...maybe...um, want to...get some hot chocolate and watch the new Cryptid show that came out? They're airing the first episode in a little bit."

Your eyes sparkled with excitement, and you nodded, grabbing his hand and making the man damn-near combust as you dragged him inside the house again.

"Yes! Yes! I'm so excited for it, I hear the pilot is gonna be on vampires and the Chupacabra!"

Takakura gasped, momentarily forgetting that your hands were still conjoined by the time you two made it into the kitchen where the hot chocolate Christmas kits were waiting.

"No way, really?! I thought it was supposed to be on werewolves?"

"Nah, werewolves are lame!"

"Hey, that's not true!"

END DAY 10

i didn't know how to end this so forgive me ;askdjf;alsdjf