#but its fun the different kinds of ghosts there are

[spiltichor]

—   TYPES OF GHOSTS ( ft. my literature textbooks discussions of types of ghosts in narratives.)

[ghost-bard]

HELLOOO

i bring a dao fic, featuring my two wardens, emile cousland and athima surana, in a double warden au :)

not an original idea, but its fun so ill write for it when i have ideas.

Recruitment goes through the Cousland origin, and is primarily from Emile's perspective as Athima has already been recruited at this point, and this is the last stop before heading to ostagar.

[saturnniidae]

Hear me out: hijack Anya's ghost au..

[coldbycrossfade]

i gotta say it or ill Die

i dont like the vast majority of ghoul + fan ghoul designs cause i find them so derivative and missing the mark that it sucks the enjoyment right out my soul

negative dopamine, all cortisol

its like wow cool tiefling/homestuck troll

[nomairuins]

i wish there was a way for me to likeee. semi change this one thingin this one mod. but 1 im not a modder 2 i feel like thats disrespectful. i just want sort of an inbetween between the game and this mod but that is not a thing that exist... sigh

[nymphaerie]

GOD LOUISE REGAILIA MAKES ME SO FUCKING INSANE EVERY TIME I THINK ABOUT HER I FEEL LIKE IM GOING TO EXPLODE INTO A MILLION LITTLE PIECES. ITS JJUST LIKE. girls when they havce to kill their former selves in order to survive. girls when the self they take up in turn is constantly destroyed and remade in order to never be attached to one life. girls when the only way they know how to save themself is to lock themself away. girls when they’ve forsaken their home and in turn been forsaken by it. girls when theyre both the abandoner and the abandoned. girls when they think theyre the most sane completely normal one hundred percent hinged person in the world. girls when they already know they didn’t deserve what they went through but can’t imagine a world in which they can heal from it. girls when they won’t let themselves heal because they don’t know who they are without their hurt. because they killed that girl. and theyll keep killing her forever and ever and ever and pretend thats the same as healing her.

[rileyslibrary]

may i request ghost seeing reader making something (maybe a get well soon card or a papercrane or sth idk) and then someone accidentally ruining it? like how would he react? what would he do next etc

doesnt have to be a fic if you decide to write it, could be bulletpoints or something ez🥰🥰

thankyouu🥺✨

I love getting requests like this one; thank you @lululandd! Also, there’s a very important A/N at the end, so meet me there. Buh-bye for now, enjoy! 🍫

———————————————————————

Price got hurt. It was a terrible hit, and everything happened so fast. You were there, at the crime scene, as everything unfolded right before your very eyes.

His injury, however, wasn’t the result of a mission gone wrong; no. Some idiot forgot to put the warning sign on the wet floor, which caused the poor man to fly into the air and crash to the floor.

The good news is that he's recovering quickly and is now being held at the medical centre until he's ready to be released.

The bad news? Without a captain to guide the team, there was no mission to undergo. And, without a mission, none of you had a clear direction or purpose, leaving you all floating in a sea of mundane tasks and boredom. So, for the past few days, you and the rest of the team have been doing mind-numbing chores ranging from scrubbing the kitchen’s greasy ovens to meticulously organising the cluttered armoury.

While Soap and Gaz are on patrol, you and Ghost are taking a break in the mess hall. He’s cleaning his gun by disassembling it and wiping all its metal components with an alcohol solution. You sit across from him, working on a different kind of project: making a get-well-soon card for Price.

Last night, you snuck into HR’s office and “borrowed” some supplies to help you with your craft: a piece of white paper from the printer, some markers, and a pot of blue-coloured glitter dust you found in one of the drawers. It was a mystery as to why the military’s Human Resources department possessed glitter. Still, it will undoubtedly prove helpful with your "crafty" mission.

You also went to the doctor and requested some “normal-sized” bandages to help with your secret project. The doctor leaned back in his chair, raising one eyebrow. He asked why you wanted the bandages, but you were so vague with your answer that he became suspicious of you. So he pulled his desk’s drawer and gave you one fucking bandage—just one. So you had to make it count.

You folded the white paper in half and carefully attached the bandage horizontally to create the outline of Price’s body. The only thing left is to paint his face on the bandage and draw a hospital bed underneath it. That, and getting the team together to write some kind messages on the card.

Ghost looks at you every now and then, mildly intrigued by your artistic creation. You catch his eye, and he quickly turns away.

“Do you like it?” you ask.

“It’s a bandage on a piece of paper,” he says, shrugging. “What is there to like?”

“It’s not just a bandage on a piece of paper,” you explain and gesture to the figure on the paper; “it’s supposed to be Price lying in his hospital bed, recovering.”

His response comes in the form of a lengthy, dismissive snort. He points to the glitter pot in front of you.

“Why the glitter?” he asks.

“It’s for the bedsheets,” you murmur.

“I didn’t know they transferred Price to a love hotel,” he mocks, turning away from you to resume his task. You roll your eyes in response and shift your focus to your craft. This is the same guy you’ll later ask to write a few pleasant words on that card. Fun stuff.

You can still feel his gaze on you as you work on the captain’s card. Despite his best efforts to appear apathetic, you notice him leaning in slightly, pretending to stretch or yawn while sneaking peeks at your project. His body language betrays him; even though he tries to be tough and keep up the act, you know that deep down, he’s a huge softie who can’t resist a heartfelt gesture. He coughs, pretending to clear his throat, and you stifle a laugh at his failed attempt to seem disinterested. You roll your eyes and slam your hand on the table.

“What’s your problem, Lieutenant?” you ask with an amused smirk on your lips.

“I just don’t understand,” he says as he wipes the gun barrel. “Why bother making a card from scratch when you can buy one?”

“Because it’s more meaningful,” you explain. “When you take the time to create something yourself, it shows that you care. It’s not a generic card; it’s a heartfelt statement.”

He lets out a sarcastic scoff.

“I’d do the same thing for you, you know.” You whisper.

He puts down his rifle and looks at you. “You would?” He asks, surprised.

You nod. “Of course, I would,” you reply, “but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that; I’d rather you stay injury-free.”

He chuckles and turns to look at the mess hall doors as they open, with Soap and Gaz carrying a large box and approaching you both.

They slam the box on the table without assessing its weight, causing the entire surface to shake. The impact knocks Ghost’s alcohol solution over, spilling it all over the table and, even worse, all over your hand-made card.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as you helplessly watch the liquid soak into the card, smudging the ink and warping the paper. Ghost throws the gun on the table and grabs your card as quickly as he can. Soap curses under his breath, and Gaz grabs some paper towels from another table, attempting to rescue anything he can. But it’s too late; the damage is done.

You look up to see Ghost standing there, pinching your card between his fingers.

He is livid.

“What the fucking fucking shit, sergeants?” He murmurs.

“Apologies,” Soap replies, utterly unaware of what he’s done, “Hope we didn’t ruin anything important.”

“This,” Ghost says quietly as he raises the destroyed card, “was a get-well-soon card for Price.”

“Sorry guys,” Gaz apologises as he wipes the table off. “Soap and I will go buy another o-”

“SHE MADE THIS!” Ghost yells at him, “SHE MADE THIS WITH HER OWN HANDS!”

Soap furrows his brow. “Why would you make a card when you can buy one?” he wonders.

Ghost slaps his thigh, muttering profanities under his breath. You try to convince him that it’s alright and that a store-bought card will do just fine, but he cuts you off and looks at the sergeants.

“Why make a card instead of just buying one?” He asks and brings the tips of his fingers together, waving his hand back and forth in front of the two sergeants. “Because a hand-made card is more meaningful and personal than buying a generic one, you dimwits,” he lectures them and turns to you.

“Can you make another one, Y/N?” He asks softly.

You lower your head to the ground. “I’m afraid I’ve run out of banda-”

“SHE DOESN’T HAVE ANY MORE BANDAGES, YA PRICKS!”

“And I had only one sheet of paper.”

“AND SHE HAD ONL-” he pauses. “How come you only got one sheet?” He asks, and you explain that you weren’t supposed to be on the HR premises, so you had to act quickly. Ghost lets out a deep sigh as he looks at the ruined card.

“Sergeant Mactavish, go get a few sheets of paper from my office,” he instructs before turning to Gaz. “Sergeant Garrick,” he orders, “go to the medic; tell him that your new boots have caused blisters on your feet, and you need a few bandages to patch them up.”

They both nod and leave to go fetch your supplies. Ghost turns to you and crumbles your—already—destroyed card.

“Don’t be sad, kid,” he comforts you, “I’ll help you make another one.”

“Really, Lt.?” You ask, grinning.

“Damn right I will,” he says as he takes off his gloves, “and it’ll have bandages and bedsheets full of fucking glitter and everything nice on it.”

———————————————————————

A/N: The card was inspired by this tutorial from Jennie Moraitis; all credit goes to her. Here’s a picture of the card from her website!

[fioiswriting]

Reunion | Sequel

[Part 1]

Summary : After the Battle Above the Gods Eye, Daemon returned victorious. Aemond was presumed dead, though his body was never found. Three years later, you've mourned your former husband and are ready to move on. But it seems that some ghosts from your past have come back to haunt you, and that the dead aren't really dead after all...

Rating : Explicit 18+, MDNI

Pairing : Aemond x Velaryon/Strong!niece!Reader

TW : unprotected sex, breeding kink, mention of characters death, angst, possessiveness, p in v sex, oral f receiving, dom/sub undertones, mention of war, AU where the Blacks won the war, anxiety, Reader has a child, grief, fluff, pregnancy, not proofread. 

Reader is Rhaenyra and Harwin’s daughter so I imagined her with dark hair like Jace, Luke and Joffrey but feel free to imagine her as you want of course <3

Words count : 9150

Author's note : Hello everyone!! Sorry for the wait, I've been very busy, but here's part two of Reunion (or at least the first part two, let's call it part 2.1 hehe). Thank you again for all you kind comments and the love you've given my fanfic omg!! Spoiler alert: this is the happy alternate ending! But I've got another bittersweet alternative ending planned 😈 If you think the first part was good enough on its own and the sequel may break the vibe, don't force yourself to read!! But if you need a happy ending, here it is <3 The plot still doesn't make any sense, but hey, we're here to have fun so enjoy ❤️

English is still not my first (or second) language, so sorry for the grammar mistakes <3

When you wake up, the first thing you feel is the reassuring embrace of his arms around you. You don't want to move, not even when the sunlight tickles your face through the opening between the wooden shutters, trying to make the moment last endlessly. But the growing anxiety in your stomach chases away the illusion of your fleeting happiness. 

You close your eyes a little tighter. Perhaps if you try again, perhaps if you try harder, the world around you can fade away.

Perhaps you can wake up again, in a different reality.

But it's inevitable. You know that now you're awake, it's only a matter of time before the two of you have to say goodbye forever. Your breathing becomes heavier, and you have to fight the tingling sensation at the corners of your eyes.

Why have the gods decided to be so cruel to you? They grant you one last taste of his skin on your lips before taking it from you, again. 

Haven't you given enough? 

Could they not show you mercy? 

You who had forgotten him, you who had begun to turn a new page, to seek comfort in the arms of the cold, far away from the fire and the ashes, why did you have to touch the poison that would once again stain your soul?

Behind you, Aemond buries his long nose in your hair. His hand absently caresses the skin of your thigh, just where the edge of the linen tunic you put on sometime during the night when you were cold ends. The fabric is pulled up, revealing the outline of your bottom, and you can already feel your uncle hardening between his thighs, but you don't move.

If you move, you'll make everything more real. Tangible.

You'll speed up the process of losing him, of him slipping through your fingers. 

How can you let him go, now that your heart is full again, now that you feel complete in a way you haven't felt for over three years?

How can you let him go, now that your body has retrieve the extension of itself in the arms of the man who was the cause of your torment, your moments of joy, your pain and, paradoxically, your happiness?

"I know you're awake."

You hold your breath and Aemond inhales into your hair. His hand moves down the inside of your thigh, along the hollow that joins it to your groin. He doesn't venture any further. 

His thumb rests there and brushes your skin, trying to arouse the desire in you with gentleness.

Subtly.

 He doesn't want to hurry, he doesn't want to rush you.

Not when he's been harbouring the impossible fantasy of waking up with you in his arms since the day he nearly died.

He presses harder against you, as if he doesn't want to let you go, as if he wants to be one with you again, and you feel him pulsing against your buttocks, under the linen cloth that has been pulled up a little higher. He says nothing, but he is pleading, needy, in his gestures, which is rare for him.

Something has changed, after all, and perhaps something has changed in him too. 

"I am awake, indeed, " you whisper in a voice that is still half asleep. The lump in your throat betrays the feeling of anxiety gradually creeping into your body, and Aemond seems to notice. Under your tunic, his hand moves up along your belly until it nestles against your chest, close to your heart. His thumb draws small circles, once again trying to bring you back to him.

Trying to calm your mind.

"Let us forget for a little longer," he whispers, his clenched jaw resting over your head. "Please." 

And you know he never begs. 

Aemond takes and doesn't ask.

Aemond believes he is owed everything and never gives in return.

Hearing him beg breaks something inside you, because this is the first time he does so.

Usually it was you, it was always you, begging for peace, begging for more, begging him not to leave you.

Part of him is as desperate as you are; part of him also dreads the moment when you will have to part again. Forever. It's comforting to know that his feelings are sincere, just like yours.

" Make me forget, then." You reply, moving your lower loins back against him, giving him tacit permission to explore your body once more. His fingers move down to your breasts, which he covers softly with his hand, his thumb skimming over a nipple to make it hard. You let out a gasp between your parted lips.

His hand slides lower, his palm flat against your lower belly, his fingertips brushing the light patch of hair at the top of your mound. You feel the familiar warmth growing between your thighs, in your core.

He sighs against the back of your skull, his head tilted forward. His lips search the skin at the nape of your neck, behind the long hair that has become tangled during the night, while his fingers intimately explore the secrets of your body that he knows all too well. The remnants of last night's lovemaking still smear the insides of your thighs and folds, but it doesn't matter; his fingers easily find the little bundle of nerves that they tease until you close your eyes, until your hand grips the damp, shabby sheet that covers the ragged mattress in the inn where you've spent the night.

Just the both of you, in the comfort of anonymity. 

"Let me taste you". His voice, still husky, tickles the back of your neck and you feel him shift behind you. When you feel the warmth of his bare chest, against which you're nestled, leave your back, your body automatically tries to move back against him. You still need him. You still need him to chase away the lump of anxiety in the pit of your stomach and the voices that keep reminding you that you're only postponing the fateful moment. Your hand slips under your white tunic and wraps around his wrist to force him to stay there, to hold his fingers against the source of heat spreading from your core. Your hips are demanding, grinding against his hand. "On your back," he insists, and stands up on his forearms.

With reluctance you turn over. You obey, lying on your back, your hair spilled around your head on the flat, uncomfortable pillow on which you slept badly. The white tunic that serves as your nightgown is pulled up, crumpled, just above your crotch, which it barely conceals. 

Aemond has swung over your body, silvery strands loosening from the braid that holds his hair behind his head and sliding down his shoulders, falling in loose loops on either side of his face, tickling your cheeks.

His lilac-tinted blue eye glows with a predatory gaze, a ray of light catching in the sapphire he hasn't removed from his socket. 

He captures your lips with his own, begging for access. Aemond marks your jaw and throat with light kisses, sucking at your collarbone to make the violets of possessiveness with which he likes to adorn your body bloom. His lips travel down your chest, playing with one of the two small nipples raised by the cool air and by desire, and continue their journey past your navel. 

Your heartbeat quickens as he settles between your legs, spreading your thighs to admire the part of you he covets so eagerly. At the same time you bend your legs, your gaze falling on him, on his unravelled hair, on his eye that locks with yours. He is so close to you, so close to your warm centre, and you know that between your folds the sweet nectar that your uncle longs to taste is already flowing.

But his lips trace the inside of your thighs instead, where the skin is soft and tender, and gradually they reach the hollow that connects them to your most intimate part. He takes a malicious pleasure in building up the tension, in savouring every millimetre of you like a fine delicacy, with only the tip of his lips brushing against your skin.

His thumbs spread the tender flesh of your womanhood and then he places a chaste kiss on the very centre of you. His tongue is shy at first, tracing the slit that connects your entrance to your little knob, collecting the evidence of your desire.

As his tongue wraps around your nub, your hands grip the sheets, knuckles white. 

Aemond drinks from your essence like a thirsty man, his nose buried between your folds, rubbing your pearl.

The tip of his tongue catches what drips from your opening, and then the flat of his tongue tastes your slit, working its way up to the little nub gorged with desire. 

He maintains the same rhythm, revelling in the moans that escape from your half-open lips. Soon his middle finger begins to draw circles against your entrance, the first knuckle sliding inside, then the whole finger. Your head is thrown back and immediately your hand buries itself in his silvery hair, gripping his braid in a messy bun behind the top of his head. Forcing his face against the most intimate part of your body, forcing his lips to work on your wet warmth, you seek more contact. 

Aemond adds a second finger. He can feel you tighten around him as he searches for that particular spot, as his tongue continues to play with your bundle of nerves.

As he devours what is his, utterly his.

His fingers, the ones that aren't buried inside you, close around the flesh of your hip in a possessive grip. "Come for me," he whispers against your womanhood, his eyes lifted to you. "I know you can do it."

Your breathing becomes more erratic, faster too. You tighten the grip of your fingers in his hair, your thighs pressing either side of his face, and he collects the sweet taste of your release on his tongue with a hum. 

You feel like you're floating. The waves of warmth still wash over you, less and less intense, your breast rising and falling as you catch your breath. 

Your hand tucks a lock of his hair back behind his ear as Aemond lifts his face towards you, and you rest your hand against his cheek. His parted lips still glisten with your desire smeared across the lower part of his face. He stares at you without moving, his deep, regular breathing the only sound to break the silence that has followed your release. You stay like that for a moment, his gaze burning into yours. At any moment he might pounce on you. At any moment he might close the tiny distance separating your mouths and press his lips against yours like the starving man he is.

It's you who makes the first move. You taste yourself on his lips and your tongue entwines with his in a fiery, demanding kiss.

Straightening up, Aemond creeps between your legs, his hand on the underside of your thighs, holding them apart. He is still completely naked from the night before, he has not bothered to get dressed after your lovemaking, so you can catch a glimpse of his erect manhood, slightly curved. He wraps his hand around to guide it towards your still sensitive wet entrance.

He slides into you easily, in one slow movement. The haste of the night before, the urgency of the reunion, has given way to the tenderness and laziness of the early morning, and Aemond rocks inside you slowly. His hips undulate, punctuated by long, deep thrusts, in an illusion of domesticity. 

But the damp sheets, rough against your skin, the discomfort of the hard mattress beneath your back, remind you that your lovemaking is anything but domestic.

For Aemond is still the enemy, for Aemond is supposed to be dead.

For your family is probably looking for you at this very moment, worried that you have not returned home for the night.

But you push those thoughts away. The weight of your uncle's body on top of yours soothes the knot that forms in the pit of your stomach at the thought of time slipping away, at the thought of having to leave him again, at the thought of this being the last time you will taste his lips, his skin.

Aemond is gentle, and that is rare enough to be worth mentioning. He has never been so gentle, so soft, in the limited time that you have been married.

Between you, there had been the devouring, consuming passion, the power play that in your submission had granted you dominance.

Between you it had been raw and devastating more than gentle and tender.

His fingers run the length of your body to your core, combining his slow, deep thrusts with the movement of his fingers against your clit.

There are only few words exchanged between you, as if you were both afraid to break the grace of the moment.

His panting, noisy breath echoes in the silence, skimming the skin of your throat, then mingling with yours as the shadow of his lips brushes against yours. He rests his forehead against yours, your hand cupping his cheek, sliding behind his neck, and you are transported into a cocoon of intimacy where nothing else exists around you.

There is only his body against yours, warm and reassuring.

There is only him inside you and the slow movement of his hips.

There is only your breathing, blending in the space that separates your mouths.

"Do you know how much I've missed you?" He whispers against your lips as you close your thighs around him. "How much I dreamed of this tight little cunt?" You swallow his words. Your hips meet his as he pushes against you. He is reaching deep inside you. Despite the intimacy of the moment, his body oozes power and darkness, and you can't help but be drawn to that side of him that complements yours so well. 

You can't stop your body from aching for him. 

"You could have been my queen," he says as his movements grow stronger. He won't last long, but neither will you. He's inside you, where you like to feel him, and your walls clench around his member. "And I would have set the whole world on fire for you." He thrusts. "Burned it to the ground" He thrusts again. "All for you." And again.

The old wood of the bed creaks with each of his movements.

You seek out his lips, just to brush them against yours. 

Without sealing the kiss.

"And I would have accepted," you answer with a whimper. "I would have been your queen, qybor." In another life, you think you would.

In another life, in another universe, you would have been his queen.

A grunt escapes his lips and lands in the hollow of your ear. Aemond straightens on his bent elbow, right next to your head, and he plunges into you one last time, with more power, more vigour, just as his new position allows.

You close your eyes. 

A second wave of warmth is about to engulf your body.

And you wait for it, you welcome it.

"Look at me when I come inside you," he growls hoarsely as his seed pours deep inside you, into the most intimate part of your body. "Look at me as I fill you up."

Your eyes lock with his, fiery as ever. A final moan escapes between your lips and you seal them to your uncle's in a feverish, wet kiss. You hold him in your arms for a moment longer, as if to allow yourself the luxury of illusion for a brief instant. 

You delay the fateful moment a little longer, fighting the minutes that inevitably slip through your fingers.

"Stay inside me just a little longer," you whisper, burying your head in the hollow of his neck where you can feel the rapid rhythm of his pulse. His arms close around you, holding you tight against him, and you hear him purr against the hair on the crown of your head. He rocks you gently.

The silence welcomes you both into its embrace and you savour it like a treasure. Your body aches in the sweetest way, your insides throbbing around his softening manhood. 

And around you, nothing exists anymore.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

"I've changed, you know." His hoarse voice vibrates against you, but you refuse to meet his eyes. You keep them closed. 

You're not sure if Aemond has really changed. Aemond is ruthless, cold, brutal, calculating, merciless. Cruel. You're not sure if Aemond can ever change, but he shows unusual tenderness, and maybe, just maybe, you allow yourself to doubt. You indulge in the illusion. 

Perhaps Vhagar's death has broken something in him. 

Perhaps it's true, perhaps he's not the same man anymore.

He's not sorry for what he has done. He never will be. He's too proud, even if you can catch the glimmer of remorse that colours his icy eyes when he is not looking at you.

Does he think of your little brother? Is he haunted by the memory of him, as you have been for so many years?

Does he think of the innocents he killed without flinching, the blood he spilled in the Riverlands that now stains the burned grass? 

Is his sanity slowly being eaten away by the atrocities he has committed with his own hands? 

He has changed. You are not sure if he's changed for the better or for the worse, but he has indeed.

Daemon has changed too. So has Rhaenyra. So has Jace.

You too have changed.

For war changes people, war makes them weary and wary, it shatters something in the body that will never be the same again. It hollows out the roundness of the cheeks, it deepens the dark circles under the eyes, it fades the sparkle of childhood that remains in the eyes.

Aemond seems to be waiting for an answer, but the words remain stuck in your throat. I know, you want to whisper, I know, but suddenly you've forgotten how to speak. His thumb draws the soft line of the underside of your breast.

The future terrifies you more than ever. You had made peace with your past, you had come to a conclusion that, even if it pained you, had given you some respite. 

Seeing your uncle alive had reawakened your demons. 

Spending the night in the embrace of his arms had revived everything you had buried deep, deep down. 

The past had returned, creeping towards you, gnawing at the corners of your heart and at what remained of your sense of stability and certainty. 

Now you are plunged into doubt. 

Just as you were a little over three years ago, when you were informed of his death, when you had to learn to live with the choice that had never really been given to you.

Just as three years ago, when you noticed a familiar lilac-tinged blue in Rhaegar's eyes.

Like when you had to live with the memories that haunted you, that were slowly eating away at what little sanity you had left.

Like when you finally decided to leave for the North.

Aemond seems to sense your anguish, because his fingers get lost in your hair. 

"What are we going to do now?" 

Finally, you dare to utter the inevitable words that have been hanging on the tip of your tongue since you woke up, words you've swallowed so many times this morning. You immediately blame yourself. 

Saying them only makes them more real.

They tear at something in the imaginary cocoon you've built for yourselves. You bury your face against his skin, breathe in his scent, as if you never want to forget him.

For you know how fleeting memories can be.

You remember how his face faded with each passing day.

You don't know if you'll ever be able to experience it a second time.

"We could leave," Aemond replies, as his fingers venture to your jaw, caressing the line of your cheeks with the back of his knuckles. 

He's so pragmatic, as always.

Even in this situation.

Even now.

It makes you want to shake him.

"We could run away," he says again. His gaze, fixed in the distance, falls on you at the same moment. "To Essos. Pentos. No one would know who we are." You close your eyes, and let his hoarse voice lull you into silence. "To start our own family, the three of us."

You know he is not serious. Even though he looks at you with such insistence, with that flame that flickers in the centre of his iris.

You relish his fantasy, this impossible dream. 

But you can't leave your family; Essos is not Winterfell. There, they knew where to find you. They knew you were safe. They knew you were sheltered between the walls of the northern castle, under the heavy furs, under the protection of Cregan Stark.

Essos is the unknown.

You cannot let your mother lose her only daughter, not after everything she has already lost. 

The itch is familiar, tickling at the corners of your eyes. There was a time when you thought you'd lost that sensitivity. When you thought the war had left you cold, incapable of feeling anything. Incapable of crying.

"You know I can't." Your nose rubs against his milky skin, made clammy by sweat. You keep your eyes closed because you feel the weight of his cold gaze on you, his furrowed eyebrows as he stares at you blankly, his lips pursed in a long, thin line. You don't have the courage to meet his accusing gaze, let alone the wounded look on his face as you crush all his illusory dreams into dust. 

When did you become the more pragmatic of the two? 

When did you become the one responsible for bringing Aemond back to reality?

It used to be you, the one who filled your mind with unrealistic dreams, the one who dreamed of stories and fairy tales, back when you could still dream. "They need me, you know that."

A sneer stretches across your uncle's lips as he swallows a chuckle that sounds more like an ironic growl. You feel his whole body tense against yours, a sign that he's holding back his annoyance. 

A sign that he has something to say, that he's upset, but doesn't quite know how to put it into words. 

"Like they needed you back then?" he replies scathingly, bitterness on the tip of his tongue. "When they used you as a bargaining chip to achieve their ends, hm?"  

Your red cheeks burn with shame, as if he'd slapped you. You don't move, merely swallow hard. You know there's something right about what he is saying, but you don't want to admit it. 

You've done your duty.

You've done what is expected of you as a daughter.

It was not a question of them using you. It never was. 

It was your duty, only your duty, what you were always meant to perform, wasn't it?

And yet a small voice in the back of your head had already given you a similar speech, a few years ago, but you had tried to silence it.

You refused to let Aemond admit it. You refuse to allow him to do it. He had no idea, no right to criticise your family when he'd acted like that.

When he has done what he has done.

He has no idea what it is like to be a daughter.

You don't answer, and silence falls between you again.

You wish so desperately that he could go home with you; that he could tell them that he's sorry.

You wish it were easier. 

There is no one left to wait for Aemond but you, but his son, you know that. His family has been decimated, as has yours in some ways, though you still have your parents and your older brother.

For your uncle, there's nothing left but the shadow of his existence, the shadow of who he once was, long ago.

You let your hand trace the side of his throat, your nose buried against it, your lips hovering over his skin. You lean against him, your body on top of his, pressed together as if you were afraid to let him go.

"You could come with me instead," you whisper, but you refuse to meet his gaze. There's something shameful in the words you've just spoken aloud, something naive, and your burning cheeks are proof of your embarrassment.

Almost imperceptibly, he clenches beneath you, holding his breath. This is a bad idea and you feel stupid. Naive to have dared to suggest something like this.

His voice purrs in a hm that vibrates against you. He's about to say something. He searches for words. "You know that -"

"I know." You cut him off sharply - a little more than you would have liked, your eyes raised to silence him.

You know what he thinks.

He thinks that Rhaenyra will never be his queen. He thinks he will never bend the knee to his eldest sister and her authority, which he doesn't recognise.

He thinks that with the death of Aegon, with the death of the children his brother fathered with Helaena, the throne belongs to him.

And you are aware of his ambitions. You know how perfectly the conqueror's crown fits his head. You know how it sets off the sapphire embedded in his eye socket. You remember the look of greed in his eyes every time he stared at the Iron Throne, you remember the look of pride on his face every time he scorned anyone who dared to question his decisions as Prince Regent.

You know how mercilessly he made the soldiers at Harrenhal kneel, forcing them to contemplate their impending deaths. You know the terror he has sown throughout the Riverlands.

Even in the Seven Hells you could have found more mercy than at the hands of Aemond Targaryen.

Aemond may have changed, but you're not sure he's changed enough to put aside the pride that is consuming him from within.

You take a deep breath. "You don't really have a choice, qybor." 

Fearing his reaction, you curl into a fetal position, your back to him, your knees drawn up to you. You close your eyes. You wait for his frustration.

You wait for his sentence.

You know that he is aware that he has no choice. 

He has only two options: swallow his pride or sink back into the abyss, disappear into the dark meanders of oblivion.

Rhaegar needed his father, of course, but you found him a father in Cregan Stark. 

That was a sacrifice you were willing to make.

There was no way you would give up what family you had left.

For Rhaegar needed his grandparents and his uncle even more.

Behind you, you feel your uncle's hand slip under your tunic and around your body, pulling you against him. He presses his bare chest against your back, tucking your head under his chin. His hand caresses your stomach, then his fingers brush the base of your breast.

"You know she will never be my queen. You know the throne belongs to -" But he lets the words drop without finishing the sentence, the knowledge of what he was about to say hanging in the air between you. 

As long as he remains alive, will the embers of war never truly be extinguished? 

You don't know, but you accept the risk. 

You close your eyes, as if you're about to jump into the icy depths with both feet.

"The rest is up to you, Aemond," you whisper, barely audible. "And if you have truly changed, then you will know how to make the right choice."

He says nothing. 

You savour the last few minutes of illusion you have left.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

The fear of making the wrong choice never really leaves you, but your mother chases your fears away, as she so often did when you were a child, tucking one of your dark curls behind your ear. She has her distinctive little smirk on her lips, the one that pulls the corner of her lips up towards her nose.  

The same one Lucerys had, you think sadly. 

You still miss him, even after all this time, and sometimes you wonder what kind of young man he would have become.

"You're a clever girl, my sweet clever girl," she whispers against your forehead as she cradles you in her arms. She's as beautiful as ever, as gentle with you as ever, despite the years, despite the wear and tear of war that has hardened her features and hollowed her cheeks. "And I know you have made the right decision." She lifts your chin with her forefinger to look into your eyes, and you feel like you're turning back into that shy, insecure girl who disappeared somewhere in the violence of the war all those years ago.

 "And if it should turn out that you were wrong... Daemon will be there to intervene. You know he is just waiting for that." You roll your eyes at her attempt at humour, and she plants a kiss on your forehead. 

For a split second, you truly are that carefree little girl again.

But behind your mother's humour lie fragments of reality that make your laughter bitter.

The news of your husband's survival remains a hazy blur in your mind. Sometimes you're not sure if this conversation really occurred or if you're dreaming.

You're not sure if what's around you, if the night you spent in Aemond's arms, is real or an invention of your sick mind.

Sometimes you're not really conscious of the events or how long they lasted, the lump in your stomach grows back, and once again you're destined to carve half-moons marks in the palms of your hands to soothe the tension in your body.

You told your mother first because you knew she'd be more understanding. As a mother, as a woman, she knows the meaning behind certain silences, the weight of words, the unspoken words that float between sentences. 

You know she can understand your pain and your doubts, but also your love and your compassion.

She was shocked when you told her that her younger brother was still alive. She smoothed her dress, paced back and forth, then took the time to sit down, her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes riveted to your face, looking for clues that would betray what you were thinking, what you might be hiding. She was afraid that he had hurt you. She was afraid that he would rip you away from her, just as he had once ripped your little brother away from her.

Her fingers had gently taken your hand and her thumb had drawn little circles on the back of your hand to comfort you. She listened to you first as you confessed everything. 

Where you were that night when you didn't come home. 

Who you were with.

And then she took you in her arms. She reassured you. Soothed you. 

You had been so afraid of disappointing her, of disappointing all of them, that the tension paralysing your body had finally loosened and you burst into tears.

Things had proved more complicated with Daemon. When he learned that his nephew was alive, that he wasn't forgotten forever in the deep waters of the lake near Harrenhal, he refused to believe you. He was furious. He said he had seen him fall, that he was the one who had taken his life, tearing the sky apart.

You didn't know where to look, and it was in your mother's eyes that you sought support, comfort, anything in the face of your stepfather's rage. You could feel on you the look of disappointment of your brother, Jace, as he held his shoulders up and his chin high. He wanted to prove that one day he would be a good king. With his jaw clenched, he said nothing, looking at you as if you were suddenly so foreign to him. He probably didn't know what to say, for fear of being clumsy, for fear of unintentionally hurting you, even more than by his lack of support. 

You know it wasn't his fault. 

He simply couldn't understand.

The words stuck in your throat and you found yourself unable to speak, pearls glittering in the corners of your eyes while you waited impatiently for the final blow.

The final death knell that would seal your disgrace in everyone's eyes.

After all you'd endured.

Daemon stood before you, his eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hard. He was staring at you as if you'd committed the ultimate treason, and you knew he was controlling himself to keep his anger from exploding. "You're going to bring him to me," he had hissed, his hand closing over your shoulder. 

" You will lure him here and he will be put to the sword." His tone left no room for argument. With the tension growing in your stomach, you sought your mother's compassionate look to calm you. You could see the fury in your stepfather's eyes, and also a mixture of fear and feelings of betrayal. You knew that, deep down, he was afraid for you because he considers you his daughter. Because Baela and Rhaena are like sisters to you. 

It was his reaction you feared most, not your mother's. His fingers dug into your skin, the floor slipping out from under you, the room swaying dangerously, and your mother had come to your rescue, trying to calm things down with her usual diplomacy.

You can't quite remember the words your stepfather said; in anger he muttered something that sounded like are you really thinking of becoming his whore again? and the words hurt like hell, but you tried to swallow the pain.

 Endure, hold your head high. That was what you had learned.

Your mother had suggested you go back to your room or spend some time with Rhaegar, her fingers gently stroking your dark locks, and as soon as you left the throne room you could hear their voices echoing through the door. 

They were arguing.

Over you.

Because of you, again.

You took a deep breath and returned to the gardens, where your two stepsisters were making your son laugh by playing with him. They had fun running around in the damp grass to the applause of Baela's little daughter, who clapped her little hands in delight.

Your fingers were still trembling when you joined them.

In the end a solution was found, for your mother feared losing you a second time. 

She remembered what had happened to Laenor, your father, when he had grown tired of the court.

She remembered what had happened to Helaena, your sweet aunt, when she could no longer bear to suffer.

It was her worst nightmare to see you torn from her again, now that she had the chance to hold you in her arms every day, to protect you again, to see you grow again.

It was her worst nightmare to see her only daughter, her only daughter and the second of her only surviving children, taken from her. 

You and Jace were all she had left of her own blood.

After long negotiations with Daemon, you had managed to bargain for your husband's life in exchange for strict conditions; increased surveillance, no bonding with a new dragon, no carrying of weapons, and the assurance that he would be executed if there was the slightest doubt about him. You proposed that you and he leave the capital, with your son as well. To return to Dragonstone. To start over on a new, blank page in a book that was already too damaged.

For you, it was also a way to ease the tensions between your family and Aemond, and perhaps find a more intimate life with your husband and son.

Rhaenyra had declared that this was the best solution: a guarantee for her to have you by her side again, a guarantee for her that you would be there.

You had been afraid of Aemond's reaction, afraid that his ego would not bear it; that he would refuse, that he would rather sentence himself to his own death than to an existence as a prisoner within his own family, condemned to live as a shadow of the man he had once been in exchange for seeing his son grow up. 

But in the end, wasn't he doomed to live as a shadow of the man he had once been, anyway?

He would never be the rider of Vhagar again.

He would never be the ruthless Prince Regent again.

He would never again be the second in line to the throne, the second son greedily waiting for fate to turn in his favour.

He hadn't been all of that for a good three years, lurking in the cold, gloomy corridors of Harrenhal like a lonely monster.

And if he went back, if he rejected your proposal, he would have condemned himself to eternal solitude at the side of a witch you would rather forget.

He had no choice, for he would never be that Aemond again. 

When you joined your husband at the meeting place, you were relieved to see him swallow his pride and accept. It was difficult, but you convinced him. 

For Rhaegar, for his son.

Aemond had suggested that you run away, far away from everything, and you almost hesitated. Running away would have allowed you to forget, of course. 

But your deepest wounds had begun to heal. You had begun to be able to face the ghosts that haunted King's Landing, the ghosts that haunted Dragonstone.

To stop there was tempting, and yet so frightening at the same time. 

The unknown terrified you. You needed familiarity now, something to fall back on, for you were so tired. 

Now you can't help bringing your thumb to your lips, nibbling the skin at the corner of your fingernail with the tip of your teeth as you walk away from Rhaenyra. A handmaiden brings you Rhaegar, and you struggle to breathe. 

You inhale.

You exhale.

The thick tuft of brown hair makes you smile. The sight of your son is enough to give you the courage to walk with a more confident stride. It's as if you were filled with new strength, for you know that he needs you more than anyone else. And for him, you've promised yourself to stay strong.

As soon as you reach him, you kneel and plant a kiss on his plump cheeks. 

He's growing up so fast that sometimes you wish you could stop time.

"There's someone who'd like to meet you, sweet boy," you explain, and you can recognise your mother's inflection in your own voice. Sweet boy. Rhaegar looks at you with big, round, questioning eyes, and you wonder if he senses your anxiety, because he takes your hand between his tiny fingers.

"Who, muña ?" he babbles, striding down the cobbled path in the middle of the gardens, hopping on his clumsy little legs, and you smile at his carefree attitude. He stops to watch the bees foraging, bends down to pick up a flower and gives it to you. He's always so curious, so full of life. He's a ray of sunshine that brightens your dull days. You finally understand your mother, the agonising fear she has of losing you. You finally understand the horror she experienced when she lost her four other children.

You also finally understand why Helena threw herself from Maegor's Holdfast.

The thought of what Daemon did still revolts you, and you can't imagine anyone hurting your boy like that.

You turn around. Rhaenyra is still there, in the distance, her crown on her head, her hands crossed in front of her on the heavy fabric of her dress, watching over you. She won't move, a comforting, discreet presence.

A stone bench awaits you by the fountain, on which two cushions have been arranged. A dessert buffet has been set up under the gazebo and you immediately spot your favourite cakes, the strawberry one, the blackberry jam one, and you look down at your son. He hasn't noticed them yet, or he would have already run over, dipped his finger in the whipped cream and stolen a blueberry from one of the tarts, his innocent expression on his face. 

He is definitely a lot like you. Mischievous and clever. An angelic air. He is an easy-going child who never throws a tantrum.

Who understands quickly, too. 

"I love you. I love you more than anything, you know that, don't you, young boy?" your tone is soft, and you kneel down in front of him, your hands on his small shoulders to emphasise the seriousness of your discussion. You search for your words, hesitating. How do you tell a three-year-old that his father, his dead father, is back from the dead and about to meet him?

Of course, Rhaegar knows that his birthfather was valiant, that his birthfather rode the greatest dragon in the world, that his birthfather died in battle.

But there is so much he doesn't know, so much he will inevitably learn as he grows up, and it is precisely that future that frightens you. You hug him as if you're afraid of losing him.

"Princess."

The deep voice of your sworn protector echoes behind you, and you straighten your skirt. 

You know he is there. 

You know you will see him the moment you turn around.

Your heartbeat quickens.

Aemond Targaryen stands behind your sworn protector, surrounded by two guards. His hands are bound in front of him. 

It is so strange to see your uncle in this vulnerable position. He who for so long has been on the other side, he who for so long has been the one who bent others to his will. He looks at you harshly, and you almost feel the need to apologise.

But you know it is a matter of caution.

You know that Daemon, you know that Jace and even your mother would never have agreed to bring him in if such precautions hadn't been taken.

You admire his resilience, his determination. You admire his ability to hold his head high, to be confident, despite the fact that he is being treated like a common prisoner, about to be sentenced to death.

You struggle to swallow the lump that has formed in your throat. 

"Who's that, muña?" Aemond's eyes leave you and immediately drop to the small figure that has appeared beside you, reaching for your hand, huddling against your leg, shy and worried. 

Immediately, your husband's icy gaze, his lilac-coloured eyes, soften.

"Thank you, Sir Rowan. You may leave us."

Despite the worry on his face, your sworn protector nods, unties his prisoner's hands and walks back to your mother, accompanied by the other two guards. You watch them leave, and a strange silence fills the space between you and your uncle.

He doesn't look at you; his eyes are riveted to your son, whom he observes with wonder. He looks as if he is admiring the most beautiful and fascinating discovery he has ever seen. You look down to see Rhaegar's reaction, and he seems as intimidated as he is hypnotised by that gaze, by that blue and purple eye so similar to his owns, by this man looking at him as if he were one of the most marvellous things in the world. 

"Gods, he's perfect," Aemond murmurs as he looks up at you, emerging from his trance. He comes closer to embrace you. And for once, there is something other than his usual brutal possessiveness and ferocity when his arms close around you.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Aemond is shy at first. Awkward. 

He's shy and amazed as he follows your son's every move with his good eye. From time to time, his gaze rests on you, as if to make sure he's not dreaming. As if to make sure he is doing right, seeking your approval.

Rhaegar is shy too, at first.

When he sits on your lap, he snuggles up to you, buries his face in your neck, one of your locks curled in his chubby little hand and he rubs it against his nose. From time to time, he turns to give his father a curious look, recognising his own eyes in the unfamiliar face before him. 

Aemond's expression grows gentler, a softness never seen in his features before.

Once he has tamed the stranger, the little boy pecks at the blueberries in the tart in front of him. He shakes his legs, hitting your knees in painful little jabs, and your arm wraps around his body to hold him down.

Rhaegar loves cake, and the sugar may be coaxing him, for he's regaining his appetite for talking.

"He really does have my eyes," Aemond whispers incredulously, and his voice, still foreign to his son's ears, causes the little boy to lift his head.

" It is definitely the only thing he has inherited from you," you reply, teasing him with a small smile at the corner of your lips.

Soon Rhaegar finishes the blueberry tart, the cream smeared over the bottom of his face and the tip of his nose.

"He inherited that from you, that is certain." Aemond grins, pointing with his long chin at the boy's voracious appetite for cakes and pastries.

You have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming. That your husband is really standing in front of you, with your son, like a normal family. 

That he was truly trying to tell a joke.

This form of domesticity is so alien to your relationship, and yet so pleasant, that you find yourself thinking that perhaps you have made the right decision, indeed, if every day can be like this. 

"Your muña deserves some cake too, what do you say, little one?"

Rhaegar giggles. Aemond cuts a slice of your favourite cake, the one with the strawberries, and puts it on your plate. 

You blush. After all these years, he hasn't forgotten which one is your favourite.

You can't even really whisper a thank you because this apparent domesticity, this feeling of completeness, this interlude of happiness makes you uneasy. Anxious.

You have the feeling that at any moment you'll be plunged back into the horror of what you went through all those years ago. 

You have the feeling that at any moment the Gods will be cruel and snatch away this happiness that you've barely been able to taste, leaving only the memory of its sweet taste on your lips.

You breathe in and out, as you often do when you feel your palpitations rising in your chest.

"Do you... do you want to take him on your lap?" you ask your uncle with shyness, your hand stroking Rhaegar's thick brown curls. Aemond looks at you as if you have spoken in a foreign language. Lips parted, he is about to say something, but not a sound escapes his lips. His lonely eye travels from you to your son, from your son to you, in silence.

"I don't know if -"

You can hear the doubt in his voice, and it's almost touching to see him lose his confidence in front of his own son, to see him so nervous and unsure of himself.

You let out a little laugh, not in mockery, obviously, just full of tenderness.

You know what he's thinking.

He's afraid of frightening him.

He's afraid of harming him.

"You won't hurt him, Aemond."

He answers nothing. He still doesn't like to look vulnerable, unsure, and you know it has to do with his childhood. With all he has kept bottled up inside him all these years. He will need time.

Your eyes fall back to the little boy sitting in your lap, and you draw his attention to yourself by stroking the curls on his forehead.

"Do you want to go to Aemond for a while? To kepus?" 

you correct yourself immediately, and Rhaegar nods in agreement.

You are amazed at how easily he slips off your legs to run to his father, to pull himself onto his lap, when only a few hours ago he was so intimidated by the presence of this stranger with the eyepatch.

Your uncle automatically puts his arm around his waist to make him feel comfortable, his new role taking root in him. His fingers reach for the cloth on the table, and he wipes Rhaegar's face, who can't help but burst out laughing at his father's clumsy gestures.

For a split second you are lost in contemplating the horizon, the stillness of the sea. You taste the sea breeze on your face.

And then you turn your head towards the cobbled path where the guards and your sworn protector are still stationed. 

Your mother is no longer there, and you notice that you have not at any time felt the need to seek comfort in her presence. 

You smile, for in the end you know you've made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** 

Dragonstone, 6 months later.

When you walk the corridors of the place that saw you grow up, you are no longer haunted by the ghosts and their incessant cries. A kind of peace has settled over you, a return to the pleasant familiarity you've waited so long for.

You still think of Luke, of course. Of Luke and Joff and little Aegon and Viserys, your brothers you will never see grow old. 

But you no longer feel their disapproving glances at every step you take. You are no longer kept awake by their cries, by their tears, by the remorse that twists your stomach. 

You no longer blame yourself. 

Perhaps you've finally learnt to make peace with yourself.

The heavy door of the bedroom you share with Aemond is half open, and you slip your head into the doorway, piqued by curiosity.

Snuggled on your husband's lap, Rhaegar is staring at the pages of a large book, the corners of which you can guess are horned, the cover worn, from being carried everywhere. You can imagine the jam stains that mark the paper with children's fingerprints. You know exactly which page is missing, the one you and Aemond accidentally tore out and hid so the Septa wouldn't notice, so many years ago. 

It is a book about dragons, the very one the two of you used to read hidden under the table when you were so young and innocent, long before the torment of war.

Without a sound, you lean against the doorframe and contemplate for a moment the perfect vision before you.

You don't have the cruelty to disturb them.

 "This one is Vhaegar!" shouts Rhaegar, and you hold your breath, searching Aemond's face for any hint that might betray his reaction. The mention of his former dragon is still a sensitive subject for him, you know it.

"Yes, that's Vhagar." he pauses. "She was brave."

From the corner of his eye, Aemond spots your silhouette in the faint glow of the corridor, and his attention lingers on you for a moment. He's almost embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable, intimate moment, but you smile tenderly to encourage him.

"And big!" the little boy adds, energetically raising his arms to the sky to emphasise his words.

"Yes, and big." There's a suspended moment of silence where the words hang in the air, and then your husband gently ruffles his son's hair. It's a tender sight to see them bond like this, and your heart fills with happiness.

Taking a step forward, you step into the light of the room and Rhaegar expresses his joy at seeing you. You smile back at him and approach the chair where Aemond sits, your son on his lap.

Your uncle's hand instantly rests on the curve of your belly, which he still stares at with the same protective instinct, the same fascination, as the day you told him the news. His eyes sparkle.

"Your daughter is restless today."

He looks up at you, not without lingering for a moment on your breasts and their new shape.

"My daughter?" he asks, one eyebrow raised inquisitively.

"I'm convinced it's a girl. You reply, smiling wryly, and take a seat in the armchair next to the one where Aemond and your son are sitting, facing the fireplace. "And she took after her father, given her temper," you tease him, your hand on the top of your rounded belly to soothe the baby growing there. 

Rhaegar's eyes close slowly. Nestled against the chest of the man who, just a few months ago, was still a stranger, he fights sleep, he fights to stay awake, but tiredness quickly overcomes him. And then he falls asleep, his mouth half open, the movements of his breath making his chest rise and fall rhythmically.

Aemond finally gets up. You follow his movements with your eyes as he approaches you, the child in his arms, and he plants a kiss on the top of his head.

"I'm going to put him to bed. I'll be right back." He straightens and lowers his voice.

"I wouldn't fail in my duty and neglect my wife." The heat rises to your cheeks, turning them red at the implication of what awaits you tonight. You're already wet between your thighs at the thought. 

But you nod in agreement and watch him walk away. 

You are left alone in the silence of the room. The only sound around you is the steady crackling of the fire.

It's strange, you think, to be back on Dragonstone, in the familiarity of the stones you've spent most of your life between, after getting used to the idea of not surviving the war.

To the idea of dying from a broken heart.

To the idea of dying, the umpteenth victim of the vicious spiral of conflict that has torn your family apart.

And yet here you are.

With your own family.

For once you have hope for the future. You hear the cries of your little brother, lost in the storm so long ago, but they are quickly replaced by the laughter of a happy memory. 

And finally, you have the absolute confirmation that you have made the right decision.

*** *** *** *** ***

Thank you so much for reading!! <3

Tag list : @minttea07 @queenofshinigamis (I'm tagging you since you asked for it ❤️)

[weirdmarioenemies]

Name: Gooigi (again)

Debut: Luigi's Mansion (3DS)

When I was playing Luigi's Mansion 3 for the first time, I was thinking, "I sure love Gooigi. I wish I could write a Weird Mario Enemies post on him, but we already have one..." but I now realize! That post was written before the release of 3! We had no idea! No idea.

Who is the Mario character with the most fleshed-out backstory? Is it Mario, with his monolithic catalogue of media appearances? No, the insight we get into his past is simplistic at most. Is it Rosalina, with her beloved storybook? She comes close, I will admit, but there is someone who comes closer! Can you guess who it is? Can you guess the character I am hyping up in the post with a big image of Gooigi at its forefront? Yes, you can! It's Gooigi.

Indeed, Gooigi has seven entire pages of lore from the official website, written from the perspective of E. Gadd himself, explaining his origins, how he does what he does, WHY he does what he does, everything! You can read it here, and I'm not going to waste time repeating what was already said. I will just paraphrase: Goo is made from coffee mixed with ghost energy. Gooigi is the result of Luigi's digital data being zapped into it for a default form. Gooigi was sent back in time to Luigi's Mansion 1 for training and research purposes, and is now stored in a canister in the Poltergust G-00.

Got it? Good. Here is Baby Gooigi. How precious! Back before he had any Luigi in him at all. This is Goo in a human-shaped mold, and you may notice the mold itself has no face. Baby Gooigi learned how to express agony all on his own! It's no wonder they took a photo of this milestone!

Now with Super Mario Bros. Wonder, we have TWO gelatinous Luigis to choose from. And why not both? Gooigi is a separate entity, so Gooigi and Wubba Luigi can coexist! But not always... when playing Luigi's Mansion 3 single player, Luigi and Gooigi must be controlled separately. Luigi is able to will his consciousness into the doppelgangreener to control its movements, and it's here that it gets extra weird! Weird to the point that this game basically has multiple possible continuities?

Gooigi is NOT scared of ghosts, at all! He is an anomaly to them! This is very much "distinct character" behavior. But how is this the case if Luigi wills his soul into Gooigi? Well, both concepts are kind of true at the same time! As we can see here, cutscenes will actually change depending on if the game is in single-player or co-op play, portraying different events! Really really weird! It's like if Schroedinger's Cat was a pair of funny green men, one with bones and organs, and one translucent. So what is the truth...? (Spoilers for Luigi's Mansion 3 ahead...)

In the ending, even in single-player mode, Gooigi is portrayed as his own sentient character! Even though this contradicts the "consciousness transfer" lore, I think this is the "true" intention for him. It's much more fun and less awkward if he can be active at the same time as Luigi! I also don’t think they care that much about minor gameplay features being lore-compliant, since Polterpup got pupils in the end of the second game, and those were removed in 3 without explanation.

Unfortunately, as the hotel crumbles after King Boo's defeat, Gooigi falls from the top floor and dies.

He even says "bye-bye" before the fall. I can't believe this. How could Nintendo allow something so upsetting? They thought it was okay to let Gooigi say "bye-bye" rather than "goo-dbye"? That has "goo" in it! It would have been perfect. (I am not actually upset by this at all and "bye-bye" is more in character)

After splattering on the pavement he reforms, because duh. He's goo. You can test this for yourself! Scoop a glob of mayonnaise out of the jar with your hand. Next, travel to the top of a skyscraper. Finally, drop the mayonnaise off of the side! When it hits the ground, it will not have died. Science Fact!

As silly it may be, I was a bit worried Gooigi might die for real, even though that wouldn't make any sense to happen. I was just thinking of modern Paper Mario, introducing new buddies only to take them away by the end. But I should have known that Luigi's Mansion is not at all like that! This is the series where they gave Luigi a dog, and that was that. We don't see Polterpup as often as we should, but it cannot be argued! Luigi has a dog. What would stop them from keeping Gooigi around? Nothing, that's what! He stays with E. Gadd, and is not going anywhere!

Just like Polterpup, I would love to see Gooigi more, though. I would love for him to be Luigi's answer to Metal Mario! Gooigi driving a kart! I don't care that he dies in water, and I don't think Nintendo would care too much either. I would like to leave you off with The Big Question. This is a new, distinct character, who is "genetically" similar to Luigi. As such.

[planchettewrites]

See You in September

Prince Malleus Draconia (Twisted Wonderland)/GN!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Prince Malleus Draconia thinks of only one person during his lonesome summer vacation: the Housewarden of Ramshackle.

CONTENT: Slight possessive behavior (very little), pining, slight reader description (very general desc.)

A/N: Oh, how I love 50's love songs! This song was inspired by "See You in September" by The Tempos. My last TWST fic was a hit, so I figured I'd write another. I hope you enjoy it; I had plenty of fun writing this.

1.1k words | Safe!

Prince Malleus Draconia looked outside his window in the Briar Valley Royal Palace. As his grandmother ruled the nation, his mind was clouded with thoughts of only one person: the Housewarden of Ramshackle. 

He wondered what you were up to, who you were with. Were you staying at the College with that dire beast, or maybe with one of your friends at their home? The Prince wishes he knew. He thought of your hair, how it frames your face and your effervescent smile. He considered how your kindness has shaped the school into a better and safer environment. He thought of your gentle humanness. He almost had no way to put it—being human was different from being fae. Yet, your humanness made you shine. It’s like how Silver’s humanity made him who he was, but for you, you were a different kind of human. You weren’t from Twisted Wonderland. Your humanness didn’t make you inherently magical in the sense that you could use magic, but it made you magical in the sense that your presence was magnetic.

Something about you stirred something in him. You made his heart beat faster and his breath hitch. You made his cheeks flush and made his mind race. At first, Malleus thought that you had cast a spell on him, but after talking with Lilia, the type of spell you cast was purely chemical. It was something that transcended all known logic. He was infatuated with you. Dare he say he was in love with you? 

He wondered if you thought of him the way he thought of you. He had given you a letter encouraging you to write to him, and if he was honest with himself, he was really, really hoping you’d write him back. He wanted to hear all about your summer. He wanted to know how you were spending your days and who you were spending them with. As much as he wished you were kept company, he also hoped it wasn’t just the ghosts and the meddlesome direbeast. If he indeed had its way, you would spend your summer here in Briar Valley, where it was relatively temperate. He knew Ramshackle’s air was something to be desired, so he had hoped you weren’t in discomfort with the weather. 

But what if you were with someone? What would you be doing with them? Malleus did not know what most “average” teenagers did. Most of the students of Diasomnia were far from average. Most were fae who lived in Briar Valley, and a good came from the nobility or were the children of members of parliament. He had heard some students in other dorms talk about their summer plans as he prepared to transport back to Briar Valley, and those plans involved places like beaches and vacations to lands they’d never been to. Is that what average teenagers do? To his knowledge, average teenagers did not sit in their castles and ponder what their object of affection was doing. 

He still remembers seeing you moments before the mirror and how rushed you seemed to see him. 

“Malleus!” you called, rushing over to the Mirror Room. 

“Yes, Child of Man?” he responded, a smile growing. Malleus had to admit he was excited to see you. He would have to go three whole months without seeing you—and although that was the blink of an eye for fae, it suddenly felt like a relatively long period of time. 

It was then a loud voice came from behind him. “Lord Malleus! You shan’t let his human address you without your royal title!” Sebek Zigvolt boomed. 

“Nonsense,” Malleus chided. “They are a friend, Sebek; they can address me however they see fit.”

Sebek huffed, gathering the rest of the luggage, and wandered off to find Silver and Lilia Vanrouge. Meanwhile, you skittered up to Malleus. 

“Oh, Child of Man, I have something for you.” Malleus dug into his breast pocket and found what he was looking for: a brilliant ivory letter. He handed it to you with a smile. “Read this when you have the time.”

You returned his smile. “Thank you so much, Malleus.”

“Now, what did you rush over here to tell me? What matter of tale will you weave for me today?” The Prince asked, his curiosity now piqued. 

“I wanted to wish you a good summer vacation, and I can’t wait to see you soon.” you got on your tippy-toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you soon, Malleus!” Within seconds, you scurried away back to Ramshackle. 

For the first time in his life, the Prince was stunned into silence. However, it was a good kind of stunned. The type of stunned someone is when they receive a surprise present or when an old friend comes over without an invitation. Your ability to stupefy the Prince was astounding. 

Malleus touched his cheek, recounting the memory with a smile. It was like he could almost feel the kiss you placed. The more he thought about it, he loathed his royal duties. Must he be kept cooped up in a castle with nothing to do? It wasn’t often he was invited to the senate, nor was he invited to the gatherings the townsfolk held, so there he sat. Alone. 

His mind wandered back to something Lilia had said right after he had witnessed the small act of affection. Lilia said, “It seems the human returns your feeling, Lord Malleus.” Hopefully, you did. If you returned his affections, he would court you immediately. There was no purpose in not. He would make you his own for the rest of your life. The adjustment would be hard, but you had adjusted to Twisted Wonderland with relative ease, and he hoped that the same attitude you held adjusting to your school life would be the same as how you’d adjust to your life as a royal. 

How Malleus started counting the minutes and hours until he could see you again. Would he see you when school came back in session? His worst fear would be realized if Headmage Crowley had found a way to send you home. No, he wouldn’t allow you to go home to your world. He would do the entirely un-princely behavior of groveling on his knees and beg you to stay in this world. Malleus could already see poor Sebek attempting to pull Malleus to his feet, but when it came to his love, any groveling was a plausible behavior. 

Or worse, could he lose you to a summer love? There is danger in the summer moon above, and Malleus couldn’t stand to lose you to someone else. Who could it possibly be that he could lose you to? Would it be one of your underclassmen or maybe one of his fellow upperclassmen? Or what if it was a random civilian? Malleus wasn’t sure he could live with either option. He was barely half alive in his struggle to survive without you around him. 

For now, there was nothing he could do. He could only pray to the Great Seven that he would see you in September. 

[lolokouhm]

| Suguru doesn't eat, but tonight he's hungry | smutty smutty smut | tattooed Geto | depressed Geto | kinda poetic | Geto is young and beautiful and not crazy |

„You haven’t eaten, have you?”

No, Suguru hasn’t eaten.

It’s not like you’re surprised. He’s lost weight - nah, he’s been losing weight steadily for the past few weeks. People say that it’s hard to notice when you see someone regularly, but it’s not hard at all - especially in his case. You’re not sure what’s changed exactly. Suguru still looks relatively healthy, not underweight, but the dark circles under his eyes speak volumes.

You sigh and walk into his apartment. It’s surprisingly neat, to the point it’s a bit scary - so clean it gives an impression as if no living person could function there. And maybe that’s exactly how it is. Maybe that tall, handsome guy in black sweats that greets you is not a person anymore, but a ghost. It’s a question you constantly ask yourself in your head, but never dare to answer. Your heart would break. 

„I wasn’t hungry.” A smile appears on his pale face and you sigh again. 

You’ve been friends with Suguru since high school, but after your last year you went your separate ways, just to meet again years later - just a few months ago. He didn’t change much, at least not visually - except for his arms. He might have gone a little bit crazy on ink there, and that’s exactly what got the two of you talking again. Tattoos. You’ve never expected Suguru Geto, that sophisticated, awfully smart Geto would cover both of his arms in the most insane pieces of art you’ve ever seen. You’ve had your own share of ink under your skin, but your collection was quite messy and not that cohesive. You liked trying new styles, creating your own map of memories from different places and different artists, while his tattoos were definitely an artwork made by one man. You had a million questions, he was happy to answer - that’s how you ended up in his apartment for the first time. Soon you realised you had a million subjects to go through - politics, art, even God. It was easy, talking with him. It was fun.

And then it began - the movie nights, when the two of you were going through different eras of cinema alphabetically, also bringing snacks that would start on the same letter as the movie you were watching. A stupid idea that you shamelessly stole from „The Barbie Diaries” - the first movie you’ve watched together and the first one that left Suguru completely traumatised. 

„Luckily for you, today we’re watching The Notebook, so we’ll be having noodles. What kind of noodles do you want, sir?”, you ask, handing him an invisible microphone.

Suguru chuckles. 

„Spicy.” 

A few clicks later the food is already on its way and the two of you get comfortable on his huge couch. The projector starts warming up and you look around - it’s completely dark inside and if it weren’t for the fact you know Suguru well, you’d think he made the apartament that way so the two of you could watch the movie comfortably. Your gaze goes back to him - his body hunching over the laptop, fighting with Netflix again. 

The projector turns on and the movie starts, as the two of you hide yourselves under the blankets. Unfortunately, you can’t focus. You’re worried.

You’ve had some conversations about his depressive episodes before, so technically you know what he’s going trough, but honestly - you don’t. He doesn’t really talk about it, but if you could get into his head you’d understand how much he values your bare presence next to him. If you could get into his head, you’d know way more, but luckily for Suguru, you can’t. He wouldn’t like that. 

In normal circumstances, at least. Because tonight, he is hungry, he is frustrated, and he needs warmth. 

And you are anything but cold. 

So when he catches your eyes on him, he bets. If you turn away, he’ll let you go. If you give in, he’ll make you stay. 

Three seconds. That’s how much time it takes for Suguru to get closer to you and kiss you. 

It’s short, soft and sensual, but it makes his head go fuzzy, and when he pulls back he just hopes you won’t run away. Don’t run away. Don’t. 

You’re not running.

You’re sitting, legs crossed, just as you were seconds before. Your face is completely red now as Suguru’s eyes scan you carefully, desperate to see the future. Will you go? Will you slap him? 

„Why did you do that?” Your own voice doesn’t even sound like your voice. „The Notebook” in the background is now completely forgotten, the flickering lights on the screen keep on changing and throwing different shades on Suguru’s pale face. You didn’t expect that. Not that you didn’t want to or think about it, it’s just…

„I’m hungry” he whispers, and the way his voice sounds gets shivers sprinting down your spine. „And the food’s not here yet.” 

„Yeah. It’s not.” He still keeps his hands on your cheeks, right thumb gently brushing your skin, touch light as a feather. 

„What are we going to do about it?”, he murmurs, words are barely audible. He’s waiting. There’s another unspoken question hanging between the two of you, and you’re the one who needs to answer.

And that’s exactly what you do. 

Both of your hands are suddenly gripping onto his hoodie as you lean into him, lips crashing yet again, just with much bigger force this time. Suguru’s breath shakes as he finally comprehends that he won the bet and a smile crawls onto his face. You’re kissing him. His ray of sunshine. Well, maybe not his yet, but when he’s done with you, that’s exactly how you will be.

And that’s exactly what he does. 

His lips travel down your jaw, stop for a second under your ear and then go straight to your neck as your hands let go of his hoodie and find their way to his hair, gripping desperately on the black strands loosely caught in a bun. He groans at the feeling as he bites the skin of your exposed collarbone, his fingers playing with the hem of your blouse, eager to feel more and more of you. Suguru looks up and tries his best not to moan at the sight of your face, your lipstick completely devoured. 

„Can I?”, a hoarse whisper leaves his throat, but it’s not even a question. He’s begging you. 

And you let him. 

He takes his own hoodie of as you take off yours - and you can see them again. The artwork on his arms. You lean your body against the pillows on the right side of the couch and Suguru gulps. He’s been imagining that for a while now, but the reality, for the first time in fucking forever, was so, so much better. His lips go back to sucking and licking your skin and by the moment he reaches your breasts you whine. His hot tongue plays with your nipples, making you impossibly wet, and the bare sight of him shirtless in those awfully beautiful sweats is not helping at all. A part of you is relieved - his muscles are still there, tensing a bit with every movement. And when he pulls away for a moment, you notice it.

„You’ve got a new one.” A koi fish, on his ribs, drawn as usual in a traditional style, this time with a bit of colour. Red. Your favourite. Your hand is shaking, but you can’t help yourself. You trace the shape of the tattoo, his hot skin under your fingertips feeling like fire. You are in awe - even more when you look at him again, breathing heavily. A god. He looks like a god. 

And then he proceeds to make you feel like you’re nowhere but in heaven.

He’s not hungry anymore - by the time you’re completely naked he’s starving. His name escapes your lips when his grip on your thighs gets tighter, and then it hits you - his tongue finally making contact with the place you needed him in so desperately. Your hands find his hair again, pulling it relentlessly when he inserts two slender fingers inside of you, at the same time licking your clit. Suguru’s ravenous. You could be his breakfast, his lunch, his dinner, his dessert - everything. He could eat you out all the time, no breaks, no thoughts, no objections. He tries to control his own hips that have been grinding into the couch for a while now, but the feeling of you on his tongue isn’t making it any easier. 

„Suguru…” your voice comes back to you, a familiar feeling slowly building up inside of your stomach. „I’m so close.” 

You really are, and your clouded mind is making the sensation almost unbearable. Suguru groans yet again, happier then ever, and then you hear it.

„Come for me, baby.”

So soft. So simple. Not a demand, by no means. An invitation - to fall apart on his tongue. 

You take it.

His name leaves your lips as your orgasm blinds you, back arching as you pull his hair so hard he groans. Suguru doesn’t stop right away - he makes you ride it out, drinking you like holy water. You shake and quiver and he thinks that maybe that’s exactly what it is. Holy water on his tongue. 

And so you lay, completely fucked out under his perfect body, and when he goes up to look at you he’s almost sure he’s going to come right there, in his pants. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect. You’re so perfect.

„Fuck.” It falls from his lips as he’s taking these damn pants off and you gasp. „I just… Fuck.” He runs his hands down his face, your arousal glistening all over him. It’s like he shines. You might be going insane. Fucking Geto Suguru, hovering over you, his cock impossibly hard, looking for words. „Can I…”

Before he finishes, you lean into him and bring him down, pulling his neck closer to you and diving into the kiss. He pants and you get scared - it’s not reality. It can’t be. Suguru leaning into your touch, Suguru groaning into your ear, Suguru, Suguru, Suguru. His name carved all over your body, all over your mind. 

He goes in slowly, trying his best not to come right away, but he’s more than determined to make you cum again, this time on his cock. He starts thrusting, diving as deep as possible and then reaches for your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. It feels so good. Too good to be true. He doesn’t fuck you - it’s way more than that. His lips move up and down your neck, leaving desperate kisses between pants and grunts. Suguru is in pain and you’re the cure. Suguru is the moon and you’re the sun. Suguru is the believer.

And you’re the god.

You asked him about it one night. 

„Do you believe in God, Suguru?”

He said he didn’t, but he changed his mind. He does.

His god is right there, under his fingers.

You come again, moaning right into his lips when you kiss, and the way you clench around him sends him to the edge. He hides his head into the crook of your neck and twitches inside of you, warm cum covering your insides as he pants, hips desperately bucking into you. You’re barely conscious, but you wrap your arms around him and hold him as he’s trying to catch his breath. His heartbeat runs through you and it kinda feels like you’re one person. Maybe that’s exactly what you have become. 

One. 

„Are you still hungry?” 

You can feel him laughing into your skin. Suguru moves his head up and readjusts it, so he can see the bite marks on your neck a little better. Like a tattoo. Another one to your collection.

„Starving.”

masterlist ❤️

[lasabarcassims]

LasAbarcas Base Game Save File 1.0

My Base Game Save File is complete!!! Download it here!

UPDATED VERSION AS OF 3/18:

OLD VERSION:

My goal with this save was to make the base game feel super ALIVE and full of personality - basically what we all wanted the base game to be originally. This save is full of lore: each household has a story (some inspired by iconic Sims lore, others original), each Sim has relationships outside their home, each world has a description and each neighborhood within each world is built with a very specific vibe that draws particular Sims to live there, all community lots (and some residential lots) have descriptions, and even the graves (and ghosts) at the Willow Creek church graveyard tell a story. There are TONS of community lots in this save that all feel different from one another and are designed with different kinds of Sims (personalities, career types, ages, etc.) in mind to give everyone multiple things to do outside the house.

All lots were built using only the base game (disclaimer: occasionally my game adds pack-specific items, like a kind of food, during playtesting, so it might say there is a pack-specific item on a lot but it's not meant to be there!), but many lots were built with other packs in mind. For example, the save has restaurants, a boba shop/thrift story, a cafe/retail space, a community garden, a high school, and so on that are base game only. So, if you only have the base game or limited packs, it should feel like you have more to do than the base game provides and open up your gameplay with a little imagination.

If you do have more packs, the lots should easily convert to their intended lot type to allow more functionality. You should also find things that come in other packs available in the save. For example, many Sims have university degrees, all Sims have cold/hot weather clothes, there are loads of clubs for Sims to be in (each with a description - MORE LORE hah!), and the calendar is filled with holidays/events.

Here's a little tour of the Save:

WILLOW CREEK:

Most families in Willow Creek have lived here for generations. These families strongly value their roots and create such a strong sense of Willow Creek identity that the transplant families have taken on this identity as well, leaving the town full of people who proudly work to preserve and celebrate the town’s vibrant history and traditions. Families in Willow Creek tend to have a more traditional approach to family life/dynamics and care about the family’s image/status within Willow Creek.

OASIS SPRINGS:

Oasis Springs had its heyday several decades ago when its space exploration industry was booming, but when the industry fizzled out, the town lost a lot of business, wealth, and residents. However, those that remain take pride in their retro desert town and clearly see what remains: a beautiful, unique, special place to call home. Families in Oasis Springs tend to be a bit quirkier, care little about what other people think about them, and focus more everyday happiness than career success.

NEWCREST:

Newcrest is a very family-friendly neighborhood filled with fun for all ages. Families here tend to be a bit more laidback – they are willing to go with the flow and enjoy the messiness that comes with growing up. The Newcrest residents are a supportive bunch of people who enjoy each other’s company and have a healthy balance between careers/school, hobbies, and spending time with family and friends.

I will also be releasing a Limited Packs Save with version one containing updates to Copperdale and Strangerville coming soon, as well as a No Limits Save down the line.

I hope you all download and enjoy!! Please let me know what you think and if you notice anything that needs updating.

Thanks!

[solar-wing]

⚣ Nightwing's Shadow 🌙

🌃 | Part 1 | 🌃

⚣🌙 A/N → had to re-upload since it wasn't showing up in tags and I couldn't figure out why. very different from the original I posted. may end up turning into 4 parts... dear lord help me. anyway, someone get me some holy water...QUICKLY! WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | Omegaverse | Alpha Dick Grayson | Omega Male Reader | Dub-Con | M-PREG Themes | TW: B!ackmail/Coercion | Oral Play | Fingering | Full Sex | Obsessive Behavior

⚣🌙 Summary → So much for being a symbol. He gave in to Dick, gave into the thing he was fighting so hard against. And now, he's about to find out the consequences of his actions. Y/N's life as well as Shadow's is about to flip upside down.

⚣🌙 Words → 11.3K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💜

⚣ ENJOY 🌙

Well, so much for being a symbol.

Y/N, aka Shadow, the Omega Savior, could not think of any other moment in his life where his ego and dignity were this bruised. How did he go from this prideful, independent Omega, who fought against society’s rules and roles that allowed barbaric Alphas to treat his kind like sex objects, only to give in just because he had this intense curiosity and attraction to his former boss’ adopted son?

Serious question, like an answer is needed.

Even if no one else had been a witness to his deplorable choice and weak resolve against a hot and demanding Alpha, Y/N couldn’t help the shame and humiliation he felt after letting himself get fucked and bred in his old office by Dick Grayson. The same Alpha who had been pursuing harassing him for months as both Dick and Nightwing, his vigilante alter-ego which Y/N had also just discovered as well.

How he didn’t make the connection earlier that they were the same person was beyond him.

Thankfully, the only other potential witness to Y/N’s display of horrible decision-making had hopefully run and left the building as instructed. The last thing he wanted and needed was for his former co-worker and friend, Wyndall to see him become another victim/statistic to the fucked up society they lived in that made Omegas nothing more than house slaves and fuck possessions for their Alpha counterparts.

Again, so much for being a symbol.

And now, as he was carried over the shoulder of Nightwing, bound and gagged with a freshly fucked and bred hole, he began to realize just how much his curiosity was about to cost him.

They made their way from Y/N’s office to the parking garage where the Batmobile waited for them. The acrobat deposited them both into the vehicle, setting the Omega down on his lap rather than the passenger seat while plugging in their route back to the Batcave.

As the car made its way out of the garage, Y/N struggled in his restraints, feeling uncomfortable not just from the situation, but from the noticeable hard-on currently pressing into his bottom from the Alpha.

Nightwing chuckled, tightening his grip around the Omega, and nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent.

"You smell so good, baby. So sweet. I can't wait to get you home and take my time with you," He said while rubbing his fingers up and down the Omega's body creating a light tickling sensation through his spandex suit.

Y/N moaned softly through the cloth gag Dick had put on him when he wouldn't stop making noises in the hall trying to alert anyone of the security guards that were probably still knocked out. His body was still sensitive after their little 'fun time' in his old office, and the Alpha's touch was sending shivers all throughout his body.

He hated how easily his body responded to the man while Nightwing chuckled, his hands moving to the Omega's hips, holding him still.

"Don't worry, we'll be home soon. Then I can take care of you properly."

Y/N whined, trying to move away from the man's touch, but the Alpha held him firmly on his lap. He even forced the Omega to lean back against him so he could nuzzle his face and neck while ghosting his fingers down the front of the smaller male's body.

"Hmm, if only this ride wasn't so short and we weren't being expected. I'd love to just slip my cock into you right now and fill you up again. Or maybe I could bend you over the console and we could do it doggy. I think there's enough room in here for that," Nightwing mused, his hand slipping inside the front of the Omega's pants, and rubbing his fingers over the still throbbing and leaking cunt under his suit.

Y/N whimpered, his eyes rolling back as the Alpha continued to tease him, his fingers slowly dipping inside him, and rubbing his nub and cocklette.

"You're still so wet and open for me, baby. I bet you'd love to have my knot buried deep inside you, wouldn't you?"

Y/N moaned through his gag, his mind becoming clouded by the pleasure the Alpha was giving him. He didn't want to admit it, but the idea of the vigilante fucking him while driving sounded so hot.

"What's that, Y/N? I couldn't quite understand you," Nightwing asked, clearly mocking and teasing him while his fingers stopped their movements and pulled out of the Omega's pants.

Y/N groaned, his body trembling and shaking from the sudden loss of stimulation. He knew Dick was an asshole, but this was just an even bigger reminder of how much an asshole he could be. He tried to grind his hips back against the growing hard-on, hoping to get him to continue, but the Alpha held him still.

"Ah, ah, ah, Y/N. You're going to have to use your words. If you want something, then you're going to have to ask for it nicely."

Y/N growled, his cheeks turning red from embarrassment and anger.

"Mmmph!"

"Oh, come on, baby. Don't be like that. Just say the magic word, and I'll give you what you want," Nightwing purred, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of the Omega's covered hole through the spandex pants of his suit, teasing his opening.

Y/N shook his head, refusing to give the Alpha the satisfaction of hearing him beg.

"Okay, if you're not going to cooperate, then I guess I'll just have to stop," Nightwing sighed, pulling his hand away.

"MMMPH!"

"I'm sorry, baby, I still can't understand you," Nightwing teased, his smirk evident in his voice.

Y/N groaned, his cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal while he just lay his head back against the glass window in defeat. He was so turned on and needy, and the Alpha was just taunting him.

Nightwing, ever the sadistic tease, chuckled at the Omega's frustrated and aroused state, "Oh, Y/N. You have no idea how gratifying this is. I mean, look at the irony of this whole situation. You spent months refusing and resisting me, acting all proud and mighty like you were too good for me. And now, you're sitting here on my lap helpless, filled with my cum, and begging for me to just touch you. It's almost poetic, in a sense. You're not the only one who's curious, Y/N. I've been dreaming for months about what it would be like to have you, and now I finally do. And I'm never letting you go."

Y/N's eyes widened, his heart racing as he listened to the Alpha's words.

"And tonight's only the beginning. We're still working on the smaller details, but our lives together are just starting," Nightwing whispered against the Omega's ear, his lips ghosting over the soft and delicate skin while his hands continued to play with his body, "I can't wait to make you fully mine."

The Omega shivered, his body tingling from the Alpha's words and touch. He couldn't deny that a part of him was excited, but the other part was terrified.

What exactly did the vigilante mean by their lives together? And what smaller details was he vaguely speaking about?

Y/N's mind was racing, his thoughts and emotions swirling in his head. His mind was so unfocused, that he didn't even notice as they broke off from the main road, driving around a small mountainside while approaching a hidden entrance in the cliffside.

"Welcome home, babe," Nightwing muttered into his ear while softly nibbling on the lobe with his teeth before pulling off with a smirk, "Don't worry, we'll christen the car later. Batman won't mind."

Y/N's eyes widened, his body stiffening as the realization hit him.

This was the Batcave.

He was in the Batcave.

Shit.

After the autopilot parked the car and the hatch opened, Nightwing hopped out with Y/N back over his shoulder, the Omega grunting and struggling in the hold as he made his way over to the center console where Batman was waiting for him.

"Nightwing." Y/N's body stilled at the sound of the Dark Knight's voice.

"Batman," Nightwing greeted, his tone cheerful and relaxed.

"You're late."

"Yeah, sorry about that. We had some issues we needed to work through first before we could head back," Nightwing apologized, his tone not sounding apologetic at all.

Y/N rolled his eyes at the vague, but obvious statement, trying to ignore the hand slowly creeping between his thighs. It was already embarrassing enough that his first time meeting Batman started with his lower half basically being on full display as he hung over the acrobat's shoulder, but, Dick clearly had no reservations about his actions.

This man had no shame. Y/N would say it was admirable if it didn't come at his expense.

"I can see that," Batman replied, his gaze looking over the Omega's bound and gagged form, "I assume your mission was a success."

"Yep, and I have the proof right here," Nightwing stated, his hand cupping the Omega's ass, squeezing his cheek.

Y/N jumped, his body jolting in surprise and embarrassment.

"Nightwing, please."

"Sorry, B. I'm just really happy," Nightwing chuckled, his hand moving down from the Omega's rear, and resting between his thighs again.

Y/N had never felt more mortified in his life. If Batman was who he thought he was, then Dick had just groped him not only in front of the Omega's former boss but his own adoptive father.

"I can see that," Batman remarked, his eyes glancing over the Omega once more, "If you're done, I'd like to speak with Shadow."

"Sure, B. I'll leave him in your capable hands," Nightwing agreed, his fingers lightly brushing the Omega's clothed cunt, causing him to squirm.

"Nightwing," Batman warned.

"Sorry, B. I'll be good," Nightwing apologized, his hand moving away from the Omega's nether region before slowly letting him down onto his feet, copping another feel of the smaller male's plump behind in the process.

Y/N jumped at the feel, throwing a heated glare at the Alpha who had a shit-eating grin on his face while turning him to face the Dark Knight. Seriously, did this man not have any shame?

"Alright, baby, I'll leave you in the capable hands of the Bat. Behave yourself," Nightwing ordered, kissing the top of his head, and smacking his ass before walking away.

Yeah, that answer would be a strong no still.

Y/N yelped, his cheeks flushing red as the vigilante walked away, leaving him alone with the Dark Knight.

"Shadow," Batman spoke, his voice low and commanding, "It's good to finally meet you after so long. I trust your trip was uneventful."

Y/N narrowed his eyes, glaring at the man. Was he playing with him? Because if he was, it wasn't funny.

"Normally, I prefer speaking under more hospitable conditions but seeing as you weren't cooperating before, some drastic measures had to be taken," Batman explained, his eyes glancing down at the restraints and gag, "Now, I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I'm willing to answer them, but I'm going to need you to listen and follow my instructions. Can you do that?"

Y/N nodded after a moment, his eyes watching the man carefully.

"Good. Now, I'm going to remove the gag, and then I will release you from your binds. However, if you try anything, I will have no choice but to restrain you again. Do you understand?"

Y/N nodded, his body tense and ready to bolt.

"Alright, I'm going to release the gag now."

Y/N watched as the Dark Knight reached out, his gloved hand gently gripping the back of his head, and slowly removing the cloth from his mouth.

"There, is that better?"

Y/N nodded, choosing to remain silent since his throat was dry from his mouth being gagged for such a long period, and since he didn't quite trust himself not to immediately start cursing him and his arrogant son to the 7th circle of hell the moment he opened his mouth.

"Good. Now, I'm going to remove the restraints. Please don't move," Batman instructed, his hands moving to the rope bonds around his wrists, legs, and arms.

Y/N watched as the Dark Knight cut and removed the rope, his eyes darting around the cave, looking for a possible escape route.

"Don't bother. Even if you managed to get past me, you wouldn't make it far," Batman stated, his eyes focused on the task at hand.

Y/N glared, his eyes narrowing at the man.

"I'm not trying to threaten you, Shadow. I'm just trying to make this transition easier for you in any way that I can. It's understandable if you are upset and angry, and I'm not trying to force you into anything, but I hope you'll consider listening to what I have to say."

Y/N looked up at the Dark Knight, his eyes studying the man's expression. He didn't seem to be lying, and his scent nor body language was giving off any signs of deceit. He'd listen, only if it gave him more time to think of a way out of this mess.

"Thank you. Now, I'm sure you have questions, and I'm willing to answer them, but there are some things that need to be discussed first," Batman said, his voice calm and collected, "First, I would like to apologize for the methods used to bring you here. They were not ideal, and I know they were probably not the best first impression, but it was necessary. I'm sure I don't need to inform you of the importance of keeping your identity a secret."

"No, you don't," Y/N answered, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"Good. Now, I'm sure you're wondering why we brought you here. At first, it was merely to discuss the effects of your presence in Gotham and the impact you've had on the city. While I was impressed, I prefer to have a tight rein on what goes on in this city, and that includes those who protect it and its people," Batman explained, his eyes staring down at the Omega.

"So, what? Are you saying I'm a threat to the city or something?"

"No, not a threat, but a potential liability. You've been running around the city, taking matters into your own hands, and while I admire the effort, it's not safe. There are a lot of dangerous people in this city, and the last thing I want is for someone else to get hurt because of their actions."

"I'm not a child. I can take care of myself," Y/N argued, his eyes narrowing.

"I'm not saying you can't. But, the fact is, you're an Omega, and while you may have a high tolerance, you're still susceptible to the effects of an Alpha's pheromones. Especially when they're using their pheromones to control or manipulate you," Batman countered, his eyes watching the smaller male.

Y/N's fist clenched under his folded arms, "Oh, so because I'm an Omega, I'm not fit to protect this city. Hmm, that's a bit hypocritical of you, Bruce. Considering all the work I did and you signed your name on while I was working for your company," Y/N spat, his anger and frustration getting the better of him.

A moment of silence passed before the Dark Knight moved his hands up, removing the Bat cowl from over his head, revealing his true identity as Bruce Wayne.

"Apologies if I've offended you, but the truth remains as is. You're an exceptional individual, Y/N, and I'm not denying that. But, the fact is, you're an Omega, and there are a lot of Alphas out there who would use that to their advantage. I'm not saying you're incapable, but I am saying that it would be safer if you were under my guidance and direction and had someone watching your back."

"And let me guess, that's where you and the rest of the Bat-family come in," Y/N scoffed, his eyes glaring at the man.

"Yes, and no. The others will be informed, and they'll be available should you ever need their assistance, but the one who will be primarily responsible for you will be Nightwing."

"Excuse me?!"

"Nightwing will be the one who will watch over you and assist you during missions. He'll also be the one who will help you learn and adjust to the new changes and rules that will be put in place," Batman explained, his tone firm and unwavering.

"New changes and rules? What the hell are you talking about?"

"As I mentioned earlier, the main reason we brought you here was to discuss the effects of your presence and how to proceed from here. And in doing so, I'm sure you've noticed that Nightwing, or Dick, has become quite smitten with you," Bruce stated, his eyes staring down at the smaller male.

Y/N's cheeks flushed, his eyes holding his silent fury (and arousal), "Oh, I'm more than aware."

"Good. Then, I'm sure you're also aware of his intentions and desires."

"Unfortunately."

"Then, you'll also be aware of the fact that he's not going to stop until he gets what he wants," Bruce continued, his eyes never leaving the Omega's, "Now, I consider myself to be a simple man. While I'm aware I don't have the most traditional parental relationship, it doesn't make my desire to provide my kids with what makes them happy any less."

"And what exactly does that have to do with me?"

"Everything. Biological or not, Dick is my son, and as his father, it's my job to make sure he's happy. And, while I may not be completely supportive of his methods, I'm not going to be the one that denies him his happiness. So, I'm willing to compromise and allow him to have you."

"Allow him to have me? Excuse me, but I'm not a possession, Mr. Wayne. I'm a person, and no one, not even you or your son, can make decisions for me and my life like some puppetmaster," Y/N growled, his eyes narrowing at the man.

"I'm sorry you see it that way, Y/N. I'm just offering a solution and a chance for us both to get what we want."

"And, what exactly is it that you believe I want, Mr. Wayne?" Y/N asked with a cold glare.

"You want to protect and save the people of Gotham, especially Omegas, and I'm willing to let you, but only if you agree to my terms."

"Which are?"

"For starters, you will no longer be operating as an independent hero. From now on, you will be a part of my team, or "Bat-Family" as you so-called it, and you will report directly to me and the others. You will also be required to undergo training and conditioning, which will include the development of your skills, knowledge, and abilities. This will also include a physical examination and assessment, which will determine the best course of action and regimen for you," Bruce explained, his eyes watching the Omega's reaction.

"You're joking, right? You want me to join the Bat-Family and go through a physical exam and training? Why? What's the point? I've been doing just fine on my own, and I've done more for the Omega population of this city than you and all your little sidekicks combined."

"I'm not denying that. In fact, I'm quite impressed by your work. But, the fact is, you're an Omega, and despite the strength and determination you have, you're still susceptible to the influence and manipulation of an Alpha. Not only that, but you're not the most skilled fighter, and while you have a strong will, you're not the most disciplined."

"Oh, and I suppose you are?"

"How exactly did you end up here again, Y/N?" Bruce asked, though his tone communicated that it was a rhetorical question.

One that had Y/N's cheeks flushing in embarrassment and anger.

"I'm not trying to insult or degrade you, Y/N. I'm just trying to be realistic. You're a smart, talented, and hard-working individual, and I'm not trying to take that away from you. But, the truth is, you're an Omega, and no matter how much you try to deny it, some things will always be out of your control," Bruce stated, his voice calm and rational.

Y/N's nose twitched, his anger rising rapidly. It was ridiculous what this man was even suggesting. And here, the Omega used to have such a higher opinion of the man he used to proudly call his boss. But now, at this moment, all he could say was another barbaric Alpha saw Omegas as nothing but prizes and trophies.

"And your other terms?" Y/N asked, biting down the vile words he wanted to spit out at the man.

"You will be required to live here at my family estate. This will not only allow you to better adhere to the first terms I've laid out, but it will also allow you but it will also allow myself and our family to better support you. It gives you a chance to connect and bond with the others," Bruce answered, carefully observing the Omega and his reactions.

"What about my apartment? My belongings? What happens to all of that?"

"It will remain yours, and you'll still have access to it along with your belongings, which we can have moved here at your request. I would be in charge of your finances, of course. But, I'd be willing to let you return to your position at Wayne Enterprises with a raise to allow you to have your own money, should you wish," Bruce explained.

Looking at the situation as a whole, someone would consider the offer from the Alpha and billionaire as a no-brainer. Getting to live in a mansion rent-free, and having all your expenses taken care of without needing to work? Who wouldn't want that?

Y/N.

While he couldn't deny the appeal of certain terms that Bruce outlined, he knew there was a catch. There had to be if Bruce was willing to lay it out good for him like this.

Y/N poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, something the Playboy Billionaire found somewhat amusing, "I see. And, where exactly does your son come into this? How exactly does that work?" Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, that will ultimately be up to the two of you. However, I do consider myself a bit of a traditionalist despite any titles attached to my bachelor status," Y/N did his best to not interrupt and comment on the irony of that sentence, "Since you're an unmated Omega. Dick is an unmated Alpha, I wouldn't find it appropriate for the two of you to share a room or bed."

“Excuse me?” Y/N questioned with a tone of malice to his words.

"The final terms are more personal and should be discussed between yourself and Dick. However, the basic gist is that you will be required to spend time with him, with the eventual expectation that you become his mate. The details regarding that are entirely up to the two of you, but the expectation is that you will be his, he will be yours, and you will bear his children," Bruce stated, his expression and tone not showing any signs of deceit or dishonesty.

Y/N's eyes widened, his heart racing as he listened to the man's words, "What kind of drugs are you people on? "Yeah, that's not happening. I'm not some piece of property or a prize to be won nor am I someone's babymaker. I'm a person, and I'm not going to let you, your son, or anyone else dictate my life and tell me what I can or can't do," Y/N snapped, his body trembling with rage.

Bruce gave him a dissatisfied expression, "Then, I'm afraid we're at an impasse. As much as I would love to continue this discussion, I have other matters to attend to. If you're not going to cooperate, then I'll have no choice but to have you restrained again until you can be turned over to the proper authorities," Bruce stated, his tone firm and unwavering.

Y/N's stomach sank, "Are you serious?!"

"Deadly. You're a vigilante, and while I've allowed you to operate in my city, I'm not going to allow you to continue if you refuse to abide by the rules and regulations I've set forth. I'm not asking you to do anything unreasonable, Y/N," Bruce said, his eyes staring down at the Omega.

"No, you're just asking me to give up my freedom and autonomy, and basically become a glorified house-husband and baby factory for your son," Y/N spat, his fists clenched tightly.

"If that's how you feel, then I'm sorry. But, the decision is yours. Either you can agree to the terms and conditions, or you can refuse, and I'll have no choice but to have you sent away," Bruce replied, his tone and expression not changing.

"And what if I say no to either and just stop being Shadow? I go back to my life, even move out of Gotham, and you continue your little operation here with your rat pack, and everyone's happy," Y/N suggested.

"Everyone except my son," Bruce replied, his gaze looking past the Omega and focusing on the acrobat who was leaning against a pillar in the background, watching the scene unfold.

"Your son's a big boy. He'll get over it," Y/N scoffed.

"Maybe, but I doubt he'll ever forgive me. Or you."

Y/N's eyes widened, his mouth opening and closing before his eyes darted behind him, spotting the vigilante standing there, his arms crossed and a dark expression on his face which was much more intimidating with the lack of his domino mask.

His chest spiked with unease and anger at the sight of the acrobat, wanting nothing more than to take his fist across his face repeatedly. Y/N's fingers twitched, his nails digging into the palm of his hand as he glared at the Alpha.

"I'm not asking you to marry him, at least not yet. I'm asking however that you just give him a chance. Save me, him, and yourself a lot of trouble," Bruce suggested, his eyes glancing over at his son.

The room was silent and the air was filled with tension.

"I'll talk. Even if you send me to jail, I'm sure lots of criminals and people would love to know the identities of Gotham's two most famous protectors. They'd probably pay a pretty penny for that information," Y/N threatened, his eyes never leaving the vigilante.

"You wouldn't."

"Try me," Y/N challenged, his eyes narrowing.

"Fine. Then, I guess we're done here. Dick, please escort Shadow to the holding cell," Bruce ordered, his eyes focused on the Omega.

"Sure thing, B," Dick agreed, his tone casual, but the look in his eyes was anything but.

"What?" The Omega questioned, "I thought you said you'd turn me over to the authorities."

"I did. But, since you've threatened me and my family, I'm not going to risk it. So, you'll be locked down here in our holding cell until I figure out something else for you," Bruce explained, his tone and expression not giving away any hint of emotion.

"You can't do that!"

"I can, and I will. Unless you'd like to reconsider, of course. Your choice, Y/N," Bruce stated, his tone and expression not wavering.

Y/N's mind was racing, his heart pounding as he looked between the Dark Knight and the acrobat. His eyes were wide and frantic, his body shaking slightly.

"Fine. I'll do it," Y/N sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat.

Bruce's shoulders relaxed, showing his satisfaction with the Omega's answer while Dick was grinning ear-to-ear, his excitement and happiness evident.

"Good. Now, we'll have to discuss the finer details, but for now, I think it's best if you get some rest. You've had a long day, and I'm sure you're exhausted. We can talk more tomorrow," Bruce stated, his tone and expression softening.

"Okay."

"Dick, please show him to his room and make sure he gets settled in. I'll have Alfred bring him some clothes and toiletries," Bruce instructed, his eyes glancing over at his son.

"Sure thing, B. Come on, baby. Let's get you cleaned up and tucked in," Dick purred, his arm wrapping around the Omega's waist, pulling him close.

"I can walk on my own," Y/N growled, his eyes glaring at the Alpha.

"I'm sure you can, but I'd rather not risk it. Besides, I don't mind carrying you," Dick smirked, his hand moving down the Omega's ass, squeezing the plump flesh.

"Stop touching me," Y/N hissed, his eyes narrowing.

"Oh, baby. I haven't even started yet," The Alpha chuckled, his lips ghosting over the shell of the Omega's ear, "But, I promise, I'll be gentle."

Y/N's cheeks flushed red, his body shivering as the Alpha's warm breath tickled his skin.

Before he could move, Y/N found himself back over the Alpha's shoulder, his ass in the air and his face pressed against the vigilante's back.

"Dick," Y/N growled, his fists punching at the Alpha's strong back.

"Don't stay up too long B! See you tomorrow!"

"Goodnight, you two. And, Y/N," Bruce called after the couple, Dick pausing in his strides and turning to the side so they could look back at the older Alpha, "Welcome to the family," Bruce smiled, a tiny one that is.

Y/N's eyes widened, his heart sinking to his stomach.

Dick was grinning even wider, saluting his adoptive father before turning back and continuing his journey out of the cave and up to the manor with the Omega struggling over his shoulder.

"You heard the man. Welcome to the family, babe," Dick said excitedly, his hand firmly gripping the Omega's ass.

"Put me down, asshole," Y/N growled, his hands pushing against the Alpha's back.

"Not a chance, baby," Dick chuckled, his hand smacking the Omega's ass, causing him to yelp.

"Ow! Asshole!"

"Mmm, I can't wait to hear more of those sounds later," Dick purred, his voice low and husky.

"Fuck you."

"Soon, baby. Soon," Dick purred, his fingers lightly tracing the outline of the Omega's cunt through his suit, making him squirm.

"Stop touching me," Y/N growled, his hips pressing closer to the Alpha's hand.

"Mmm, you say that, but your body says otherwise," Dick teased, his finger slowly rubbing the covered slit, his smirk growing when he felt the slick starting to leak through the fabric.

"Fuck you," Y/N hissed, his teeth biting into his lower lip as the Alpha continued to tease him.

"Oh, I plan to, baby. I plan to," The Alpha promised, his hand moving away from the Omega's cunt, and grabbing his ass, squeezing the plump flesh.

Dick hurriedly ran through the manor's halls, heading for a specific destination. One that Y/N noted did not seem to be towards any bedrooms.

"Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere you should remember quite vividly," Dick answered, his grip tightening on the Omega's ass.

"But, Bruce told you to take me to my room," Y/N reminded, though he figured the Alpha was ignoring him.

"He did, and I will. Once we're done," Dick answered, his tone not leaving any room for argument.

"Done with what?"

"This," The acrobat answered as they reached a door.

It was dark in the halls so Y/N couldn't exactly tell where they were, but he couldn't deny the familiarity of the location.

"Where are we?"

"I think you know," Dick answered, his hand reaching out and opening the door.

He swung the door open and switched on the light while keeping his other arm wrapped tightly around the Omega's thighs, right above the bend of his knees. When Y/N could finally see where they were, the realization hit him like a brick and he immediately began struggling to free himself from the Alpha's hold.

"Oh, so you do remember this place. Good," Dick chuckled, his hand squeezing the Omega's ass, "Now, let's have some fun, shall we?"

Dick closed and locked the door to the bathroom before lifting Y/N off his shoulder and placing him against the countertop sink. The same sink he had pressed against when he ambushed the Omega during the gala celebration.

The moment he was down, the Alpha was on him like a lion on a gazelle. He forced the Omega's legs apart, his hands gripping the smaller male's thighs tightly as he leaned forward and captured the Omega's lips in a heated kiss.

"Mmm, fuck, baby. I've been waiting for this for so long," Dick groaned, his lips trailing down from the Omega's lips to his jaw and neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive flesh.

"Dick, stop," Y/N gasped, his hands pushing against the Alpha's broad chest.

"I can't, baby. Not now. Not when you're finally mine," Dick growled, his hands moving from the Omega's thighs to his hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh that was still covered by his vigilante suit.

"I'm not yours," Y/N argued, his hands pushing harder against the Alpha's chest.

"Yes, you are. You've always been mine, and now, I'm going to make sure you know it," Dick growled, his lips capturing the Omega's once again, his tongue slipping into the smaller male's mouth, "Mmm, fuck, baby. You taste so good," The Alpha moaned, his hands moving from the Omega's hips and sliding down his thighs.

"Dick, please... p-please ... please," Y/N begged, his body trembling as the Alpha's hands moved further down his legs, his fingers brushing against the wet patch of his suit.

"Please, what, baby? What do you want?" Dick asked, his lips moving down the Omega's neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking the tender flesh.

"Please, stop," Y/N pleaded, his hands gripping the material of the Alpha's suit, pressing his knuckles into the mounds of his hard pecs. Y/N tried to ignore the way his body was responding to the Alpha's touch, his cunt throbbing and leaking with slick.

"No, not yet. Not until I've had my fill," Dick growled, his hands gripping the Omega's thighs, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"n-nh ... ah ... n-no," Y/N breathed out in stutters, his body trembling as the Alpha's hands moved further down his legs, his fingers brushing against the wet patch of his suit.

"Mmm, fuck, baby. You're so wet. I need to have you," Dick groaned, his lips moving down the smaller neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking the tender flesh while his hands went to work ripping off the Omega's suit.

"H-hey! This suit is custom made you asshole," Y/N snapped, his hands pushing against the Alpha's chest.

"So? It's not like we can't get you a new and better one," Dick replied, his hands tearing the material apart, revealing the Omega's bare chest and leaking nipples.

"You're a fucking prick," Y/N growled.

"And, you're a brat. Now, stop fighting and just enjoy yourself," Dick ordered, licking his lips at the sight of the Omega's chest before leaning down and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.

"Ahh... ahh," Y/N moaned, his hands gripping the Alpha's shoulders tightly as the vigilante sucked and licked his nipple, his teeth lightly grazing the sensitive flesh.

"Mmm, fuck, baby. You taste so good," Dick groaned, his hands running down the Omega's stomach and sides, landing at his waist.

"A-ah, fuck ... !" Y/N's body arched up as he was positioned on the sink by the Alpha so he could rut his body into the Omega's pulsing and wet heat.

"Fuck, baby. You're so wet. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock," Dick growled, his hands moving to the Omega's ass, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"You—f-fuck... Y-You already had me around your cock earlier, remember?" Y/N said, keeping his eyes closed, cause the hot sight of the Alpha towering over him in his vigilante suit and his muscles on display under the tight material was too much for him.

"Yeah, I did, but that was just a preview. Now, I'm going to show you how a real Alpha takes care of his Omega," Dick growled, his hands returning to the tear over the Omega's stomach, his fingers ripping the fabric apart until the suit was in tatters, his body on full display under him like a trophy.

"Fuck, baby. You're so beautiful," Dick groaned, his hands running over the Omega's body, his fingers tracing the curves and dips of the smaller male's form.

"Shut up," Y/N growled, trying to cover himself from the Alpha's prying eyes.

"Stop that. Don't hide from me, baby. I wanna see all of you," Dick growled, his hands grabbing the Omega's wrists and pinning them above his head.

"D-Dick," Y/N moaned, his eyes fluttering shut as the Alpha leaned down and began sucking and biting his neck, his hands keeping his arms pinned above his head.

"Shhh, baby. Let me take care of you," Dick whispered, his lips leaving a kiss on the Omega's swollen and red ones as he moved down his body, bringing his hands with them, "Leave these here," the vigilante commanded, his hands giving the smaller wrist a gentle squeeze.

"F-fuck you," Y/N whined, but he did as he was told.

The Alpha smiled at the obedience from his Omega, his lips continuing their trail down the smaller male's chest and stomach, his teeth nipping and teasing the sensitive skin.

"Mmm, fuck, baby. You're so sexy," Dick moaned, his tongue swirling around the Omega's belly button, his teeth biting and tugging on the skin, "I can't wait to put a baby in you."

Y/N's face turned a deep shade of crimson, his hands clenching into fists as the Alpha's words hit him like a freight train, "S-shut up. Don't say things like that," Y/N stuttered, his body trembling under the Alpha's touch.

"Why not, baby? It's true," Dick whispered, his lips moving down the Omega's body, his tongue licking the wet trail his lips had left, "Mmm, I bet your cute little cunt is going to look so good filled with my knot," The Alpha growled, his hands moving to the Omega's hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.

"F-fuck, Dick...," Y/N moaned, his head falling back against the mirror as the Alpha's hands trailed down his body, his fingers brushing against the soaked folds.

"Mmm, yeah, baby. That's it. Let me hear you," Dick growled, his lips kissing and sucking the inside of the Omega's thighs, his teeth nibbling and biting the sensitive skin, "Mmm, fuck, baby. You're so wet. I can't wait to bury myself deep inside you," His tongue traced around the Omega's entrance, his nose breathing in the sweet and musky scent of the slick, "You smell so good, baby."

"D-Dick... a-ahh... n-ngh," Y/N's body was shaking as the Alpha's mouth was doing wonders on his lower half, his tongue lapping and slurping up the thick juices coming from his core.

"Fuck, baby. You taste so good," Dick moaned, his fingers moving from the Omega's thighs and spreading his glistening cunt, his tongue sliding between the damp insides, "Mmm, fuck. You're so wet," Dick groaned, his tongue thrusting in and out of the small hole, his hands gripping the smaller male's legs.

"F-fuck... a-aah... a-ahh... D-Dick," Y/N cried, his back arching off the cool porcelain counter, his legs wrapping around the Alpha's head, his heels digging into his strong shoulder blades.

"Yeah, baby. Say my name. Tell everyone who's making you feel this good," Dick growled, his mouth attacking the Omega's cunt, his tongue lapping and slurping up the thick fluids.

"F-fuck, Dick... a-aahhh, f-fuck, oh god, yes. Please...," Y/N moaned, his hips rolling against the Alpha's mouth, his legs squeezing his head tighter, "F-fuck, I-I'm gonna...," the Omega's head fell back against the mirror, his eyes closed tightly, his body trembling.

"That's it, baby. Cum for me," Dick purred, his tongue darting into the wet cavern, his hands squeezing the Omega's thighs.

"f-fuck ... oh god ... !"

Y/N's eyes shot open, his body tensing as he felt the Alpha's mouth sucking his nub, "O-oh, oh my god," Y/N whined, biting his lip pathetically as his back arched off the porcelain countertop, his hands flying down to grip the back of his neck and his shoulders.

Dick turned stern eyes up the Omega while lapping up the slick around his mouth, "I thought I told you to keep your hands against the mirror, baby," the Alpha's tone was low and threatening.

"I-It was a reflex" Y/N's voice shook as he looked down at the Alpha, his body trembling, his chest heaving.

"Oh, yeah. Well, guess we're going to have to work on your obedience, then, aren't we?" Dick smirked, his tongue flicking out, collecting the remaining slick around his mouth, his fingers rubbing against the Omega's twitching hole.

Dick stood back up, grabbing Y/N and pulling him off the counter before turning him around and pressing his back toward his front. His large hand gripped the smaller male's jaw, forcing the Omega to look into the mirror in front of him, his insides jumping at the sight of the size difference between himself and the Alpha.

"Look at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous. Just begging to be bred and knotted," Dick purred, his hand cupping the Omega's throat, his lips trailing down his neck, "I'm going to breed you so good, baby. Fill you with my seed, watch you swell and round with my babies" Dick groaned, his other hand slipping between the Omega's legs, his fingers rubbing the wet slit.

"But first, we're going to teach you some self-control," Dick whispered, his fingers sliding through the Omega's wet heat, his thumb circling the swollen nub, causing the smaller male to squirm.

"F-fuck, Dick..."

"I want you to hold still. No matter what I do, no matter how badly you want to move or touch me, don't. Got it, baby?" Dick purred, his teeth nibbling on the shell of the Omega's ear.

"O-okay," Y/N breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Good boy," Dick cooed, his hand jerking and squeezing his head up as the other player with his damp entrance, "Now, watch and learn, baby."

"W-watch what?"

"This," the Alpha grinned wickedly.

All of sudden, Y/N felt himself get stuffed with two long digits, his body jerking in reflex as his hands flew to grip the Alpha's strong body.

"Ah, what did I say?" Dick grunted, jerking his head up with his hand while pushing his fingers even harder inside him.

"T-to stay still," Y/N whined, his head rolling back onto the broad shoulder, his hips grinding back into the Alpha's crotch.

"And you're still not listening baby," Dick hissed, his fingers thrusting in and out of the smaller male's cunt.

"I-I can't help it," Y/N whimpered, his hands gripping the Alpha's forearms.

"Oh, really? What if I told you that the longer you do this, the longer it will take before you can cum again. That you need to focus and listen, or you're going to have to go without an orgasm," Dick purred, his thumb circling the Omega's cocklette with his thumb, his teeth nibbling the shell of his ear while staring into the Omega's eyes through the mirror.

"O-oh," Y/N's voice came out more like a gasp as the Alpha's fingers continued to stretch and rub his insides, his body trembling and twitching.

"You think you can handle that, baby?"

"Mmm, f-fuck... n-no."

"Oh, so I guess I'll just stop," Dick stated, beginning to pull his hand away, a string of slick connecting his digits.

"No, wait. Please," Y/N cried, squeezing his hands against the Alpha's forearm still holding his jaw.

"I'm sorry, what did you say, baby?" Dick chuckled, his finger ghosting along the edge of the Omega's entrance, his free hand moving from his chin and cupping the front of his throat.

"P-please. Don't stop," Y/N begged, his back arching as the Alpha's hands resumed their previous activities.

"Then take your hands off me, keep them at your sides, and hold still," Dick ordered, his fingers plunging into the smaller male's core, his other hand squeezing his throat gently.

"H-haaah! F-fuck!" Y/N nodded, his hands falling back to his sides, his fingers digging into his thigh, his eyes closing in pleasure.

"Keep those eyes open and looking at yourself. Watch every move I make, and if you can't, I'll stop," Dick growled, his hand pumping in and out of the tight channel, his palm rubbing the Omega's throbbing cocklette.

"A-aah, okay," Y/N gasped, his body shuddering as the Alpha's fingers continued to pound into his cunt, his thumb circling the sensitive nub, "A-aah, oh fuck."

"Good boy. You're being such a good boy, taking my fingers so well. Think you can take a third one?"

"Y-yes, please. Yes," Y/N whimpered, his hips rocking back against the Alpha's palm, his fingers sinking into his ass, "M-more."

"Keep still," Dick warned, his fingers slowing down, his third digit teasing the rim, "Relax, baby."

"S-sorry," Y/N mumbled, his muscles relaxing, allowing the Alpha to push his third finger into his already stuffed hole.

"Fuck, baby. You're so tight. And, hot," Dick groaned, his hand turning the Omega's head towards him so he could capture his lips in a heated kiss, his tongue tangling with the smaller man’s while his fingers pumped in and out of the dripping entrance.

"A-ah, f-fuck," Y/N whined against Dick's lips, his nails scratching the insides of his palms as he did his best to hold his body still, wanting nothing more than to achieve his release.

"Are you getting close, baby? Are you going to cum soon?" Dick whispered against Y/N's mouth, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling on it.

"Mmm, f-fuck, a-aahh," Y/N nodded, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, his hands clenching hard into fists.

"What's wrong, baby? Can't speak? Is my baby overwhelmed? Hmmm, maybe you'd like me to stop," Dick teased, his fingers slowing their pace, his thumb ceasing the pressure on the Omega's aching core.

"N-no! Fuck, please, don't stop. I-I'm going to...," Y/N moaned, his eyes shutting as the Alpha's hands slowed, his body trembling.

"Eyes, baby," Dick reminded, his lips trailing down to the side of the Omega's neck, his teeth nibbling and sucking the tender flesh.

Y/N quickly obeyed, his eyes shooting open and focusing back on the two figures in the mirror. He bit his lip hard, his hips rocking and grinding, trying desperately to bring his release.

"A-ah, f-fuck," Y/N breathed heavily, his back arching, his head leaning back onto the Alpha's broad shoulder.

"Look at you. Such a pretty little slut," Dick cooed, his finger's movements becoming more intense, his lips leaving kisses and bites along the Omega's exposed neck.

"A-ah, h-haaa, o-oh god," Y/N cried, his back arching further, his eyes rolling into the back of his head, and his hands balled into tight fists.

"Yes, baby. Cum for me. Show me how much you like my fingers, how much you like the way I finger you," Dick groaned, his fingers curling and thrusting deeper inside the smaller male, his thumb pressing harder against his cocklette.

"Fuck, baby. You're so tight and hot. I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cock," Dick rumbled, his hand releasing the Omega's throat, moving to cup his chest and twist and squeeze his nipple, "Mmm, I can't wait to see these things full, feeding our babies."

"F-fuck... y-you're... n-not going to knock me u-up," Y/N growled, his back arching, his ass grinding and rolling back into the Alpha's front, his nails breaking the skin on his palms.

"We'll see about that, baby. I'll bet you're already so fertile. And, when I'm done, you'll have no choice but to carry and give birth to all the babies I put inside you," Dick purred, his fingers twisting and rubbing the smaller male's nipple.

"O-oh, oh fuck. Mmm, fuck," Y/N breathed out, his body shaking and trembling, his nails now scratching at his thighs.

"That's right, baby. Cum. Cum for me. Show me how much you love my fingers fucking you," Dick cooed, his thumb pressing hard against the Omega's aching nub, his fingers twisting and pumping inside his tight channel.

"A-ah, h-haaa... f-fuuuuck," Y/N whined, his head falling back onto the Alpha's shoulder, his back arched and his chest heaving.

"Yes, baby. Let go. Cum for me. Cum," Dick whispered, his lips leaving kisses and bites along the smaller's male's jaw and neck, his hand pinching and squeezing his hardened bud.

"H-ha, ahh... !"

The Omega's vision blurred and his hearing became muffled. His body convulsed and spasmed, his hips buckling wildly, barely managing to keep his eyes open as he climax splashed onto the floor below, his thighs and Dick's fingers covered in slick.

"Fuck, baby. You're so beautiful," Dick purred, his fingers pumping the Omega through his orgasm.

"A-ah, f-fuck," Y/N panted, his chest heaving and his hips twitching.

"You did so good, baby. Such a good boy, listening and obeying," Dick praised, his lips leaving a kiss where his mark would go on the Omega's neck, his hands moving to his hips, pulling the smaller male closer, his hard bulge rubbing against his bare ass.

"M-mmm," Y/N whimpered, his body still twitching and shivering.

"Now, be a good boy and turn around," Dick instructed, his hands giving the smaller male a light squeeze.

Y/N turned, his legs shaking, his heart pounding. The vigilante wasted no time grabbing his hips, hoisting him up, and sitting him on the countertop.

"Put your hands on the sink, spread your legs, and don't move," Dick instructed, his eyes burning into the Omega's, his fingers tracing the shape of his slick-covered hole.

Y/N did as he was told, his body trembling as the Alpha's eyes looked him over, a wicked smirk appearing on his face.

"So pretty, all spread out and ready for me," Dick cooed, his large hands spreading the smaller male's thighs apart, his eyes raking over his glistening slit, his cocklette still pulsing, his hole winking, "You look so good, baby. So sexy."

Suddenly, the bathroom was filled with a deep and musky scent, it sending Y/N into a pleasurable spasm as his eyes went wide at the smell, "O-ohh, fuck ... ! Alpha!"

Dick smirked at the Omega, writhing and begging for him on the counter, realizing what was happening. "Looks like I started pouring, baby. Couldn't help it though, you're just so sexy."

The acrobat pulled the smaller male to the edge, his knees resting on the Alpha's hips.

"Dick, please, I can't—," Y/N begged, his mind a scrambled mess from the Alpha's pheromones clouding every brain cell in his head.

"Shhh, baby. I've got you," Dick soothed, his hands gripping the smaller male's thighs and pulling him against his crotch.

"get inside of me ... now ..." Y/N whined, his chest rising and falling, his cunt gushing even more slick and his nipples leaking even more cream, his body begging to be fucked.

"Do you really think you’re in a position to give orders?"

"p-please ... please give it to me ... " Y/N whimpered, his hips squirming, trying to get some form of friction, "I need you. I need your knot."

"As much as I love hearing you beg, and I do, you have been quite a handful today," Dick's voice dropped, his grip on the Omega's thighs becoming painful, "Maybe you're not worth the effort. Maybe I should find someone else, a proper Omega who knows how to listen," the Alpha threatened, his fingers digging into the soft, yielding flesh.

"No! Please, no. I-I'm sorry, please. I'm sorry," Y/N pleaded, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his arms threatening to give out, "I-I'll be good. I'll listen."

"And, why should I believe you, baby?" Dick chuckled, his thumbs lightly brushing the underside of the smaller male's supple, thick thighs, his fingers still digging into the plush, warm flesh.

"I'll be good, I promise. I'll be your good Omega, let you fuck me, mark me all you want, give you lots of babies, and do whatever you say," Y/N whimpered, his chest heaving, his nipples and cunt aching, his legs trembling.

"Oh, and you're going to listen, aren't you?" Dick teased, his fingers trailing along the inside of the Omega's quivering thighs, his thumbs ghosting over his swollen and dripping core.

"y-yes. whatever you want!" Y/N whined, his hands clawing at the counter, his legs shaking, his eyes locked onto the Alpha's, his hips rocking, spreading his legs even more to get the Alpha to fuck him.

"Such a good, little Omega," Dick growled before working to remove his suit, Y/N watching in anticipation, his heart racing.

When his suit was fully off, his length throbbing and standing at attention, he lined himself up with the Omega's leaking entrance, the head of his cock teasing the twitching hole, his fingers spreading the wet folds.

"Please, Dick, no teasing," Y/N whined, his chest rising and falling as he felt the tip of the Alpha's cock tease his entrance, his body screaming for him to fill him and take him.

"Don't worry, baby. I'm gonna give you what you want," Dick cooed, his free hand cupping the back of the Omega's head, his lips capturing the smaller man's in a heated kiss, "But first..."

Dick grabbed something on the side of them, holding it up as he kept rubbing his length over the Omega's throbbing cunt. When he held it up for Y/N to see, the Omega felt his chest almost seize up.

"Remember this," Dick held up the candle holder Y/N used against the Alpha's head when he had him pinned in here the last time, "Answer me," The Alpha's tone was dangerous.

"Yes, I remember," Y/N's voice was small, his entire body on edge and trembling.

"Good. You remember what you did with this the last time we were in here?" Dick asked with an angry fire in his eyes.

"Yes,"

"Say it."

"I knocked you over the head with the candle holder,"

"Correct," Dick replied, "Now, say you're sorry."

"What?!"

"You heard me. Apologize for knocking me over the head with this, and I'll fuck you and let you cum. And if you don't, I'm not going to fuck you. I'll leave you here and have Alfred show you your room."

"You're serious, aren't you?"

"Very," Dick nodded, the anger in his eyes was unmistakable.

"Okay, okay. Sorry," Y/N muttered.

"Excuse me?" Dick said, his eyebrows raised, "You'll have to speak up."

"Sorry,"

"Sorry, what? Try again," Dick ordered.

"I knocked you over the head with a candle holder."

“I hear an acknowledgment, not an apology.”

"Ugh, I'm sorry! I'm sorry, for knocking you over the head with the candle holder," Y/N whined, his entire body feeling like a livewire.

"Good, good. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" Dick smiled, his hand gently stroking the Omega's hair, "Now, apologize for denying and rejecting me."

"Dick," Y/N growled, his fingers clenching into fists.

"If you want me to fuck you, apologize. If you don't, we can call it a night, and you can go to your room without my knot," Dick warned, his eyes locking onto the Omega's, "Your choice."

Y/N clenched his teeth, his eyes glaring at the Alpha. He didn't want to apologize, didn't think he had any reason to.

But, his body was aching and throbbing, his chest was leaking, his cunt was soaked and aching, his cocklette was throbbing.

"Fine," Y/N finally agreed.

"Apologize, then," Dick stated, his gaze not wavering.

"f-fuck, fine. Fine, I'm sorry, alright?! I'm sorry," Y/N snarled, his knuckles turning white.

"Good, and I forgive you," Dick's leaned down, his naked, muscled covering the Omega's as he delivered a fiery kiss onto his lips, his tongue dominating the smaller male's mouth.

Y/N melted into the kiss, his arms wrapping around the larger man's neck, his nails scraping along his shoulder blades feeling the hot skin of the Alpha under his fingers while his legs wrapped around the larger man's waist.

Dick's hand slipped between them, taking his cock in his hand and lining it up with the Omega's entrance, his lips never leaving the smaller man's, his tongue tangling and fighting against the Omega's.

Y/N groaned and moaned, his hips rolling and grinding into the Alpha's, his cunt already starting to drool even more slick, his chest heaving.

Dick broke the kiss, a line of saliva connecting their lips, his breath mingling with the Omega's, his eyes locked onto the smaller man's, "I'm not going to be gentle, and you better not fight me, or I'll make sure you won't walk for a week."

"n-nh ... ah ..." Y/N shuddered, the heat of the Alpha's body was making him dizzy while his pheromones from his pouring were making him lightheaded.

"That's right, baby. Fuck," Dick purred, his hips thrusting forward, the head of his cock sliding through the Omega's wet slit and popping into his tight, dripping, hot hole, "Fuck, you're so tight. You feel fucking amazing," the Alpha rumbled, his cock pushing deeper into the smaller male's channel, his eyes trained on the Omega's.

"h-haaah! f-fuck ... oh god ... !" Y/N's nails dug into the larger man's skin, his chest heaving and his thighs clenching, his legs and toes curling as the Alpha's cock pushed deep inside him, stretching and filling him, "A-ah, o-oh fuck, s-so big."

"Mmm, fuck, don’t you dare fucking move..." Dick moaned, his hips pushing forward until he was buried inside the smaller male's core, his shaft coated with slick and his walls tightly clinging to his length, his hands squeezing the Omega's soft thighs, "God, baby, you're so fucking hot and tight. Even better the second time."

"S-shut up," Y/N hissed, his back arching, his fingers and nails scratching and digging into the larger man's shoulders.

"Aw, does that mean I wasn't good enough for you last time, baby?" Dick teased, his nose and lips brushing against the smaller male's, his tongue running along his bottom lip.

"S-stop teasing me and f-fuck me already," Y/N breathed, his chest rising and falling as he looked into the Alpha's burning blue eyes.

"So, needy," Dick cooed, his fingers gripping the smaller male's thighs, his hips snapping forward, his cock pulling out until only the tip was inside the Omega's quivering entrance.

"H-aaah, o-oh fuck... a-ah,"

Without warning, Dick thrust back inside the Omega, his pace quickening and his thrusts becoming more brutal, the sounds of skin slapping and moans filled the bathroom, the mirror fogging up and the cabinets under the sink rattling.

"Fuck, baby, your cunt is just sucking me in. Mmm, fuck, you're perfect," Dick moaned, his hips pounding and bucking, his balls slapping against the smaller male's ass, his cock hitting his G-spot with each thrust.

Dick was a merciless fuck.

Appearances really were deceiving, as Y/N thought about any person who thought of Dick as a lighthearted, gentle person. This motherfucker could be a cruel villain when he wanted to be, especially when it came to the down and dirty.

He had Y/N's arms wrapped around his sweaty back and his legs around his waist like a child holding on to a parent while he rammed into his body. His fingers dug into the smaller male's thighs and ass, his nails leaving scratches and bruises on his hips and back, and his teeth sunk into his skin, marking him with hickeys, bites, and bruises.

Y/N could already feel his legs and bottom becoming sore from the Alpha's harsh treatment of his body, but the pleasure of being stuffed and taken was making him feel a high he didn't want to come down from.

"F-fuck, Dick," the Omega whined, his nails digging and scratching the Alpha's skin, his heels pressing hard into the bigger man's lower back right about his butt.

"Mmm, yeah, baby. That's it. Say my name," Dick growled, his hips pistoning, his balls slapping against the Omega's ass.

"O-oh, fuck Dick... y-your so big," Y/N moaned, his body arching into the acrobat's sweaty chest

"Yeah, baby. Take all of it. Feel me stretching you, stuffing you, claiming you," Dick hissed, his tongue licking and lapping at the smaller male's ear, his teeth nibbling the shell.

"I-it's too much. You're too big. h-haaah! o-ohh, FUCK ... !" Y/N cried, his chest rising and falling rapidly, his nails digging into the skin on the larger man's muscled back, his teeth sinking into the meaty flesh of his neck.

"Aww, baby, do you want me to stop, pull out?" Dick asked, his hips stilling, his cock resting inside the smaller male's fluttering channel, the tip of his cockhead brushing against the Omega's sweet spot, his hands gripping his ass.

"w-wha—? n-no! please, keep going," Y/N begged his cunt twitching, his nipples aching, his body desperate for release.

"Then beg. Beg for it. Tell me how badly you want my knot, how badly you want me to breed you," Dick purred, his lips peppering kisses and love bites along the Omega's throat, his teeth tugging and nibbling his earlobe.

"P-please, Dick, I-I can't ... please, I need you," Y/N pleaded, his arms tightening around the Alpha's sweaty body, his nails digging and scratching the larger man's broad shoulders.

"Need me to do what, baby?" Dick teased, his hips slowly grinding and rolling, his length massaging the Omega's walls, his lips and tongue leaving kisses and bites on his jaw.

"F-fuck, Dick. P-please, knot me. f-fuck ... god ... !" Y/N wailed, his nails dragging and scratching the large man's back, his body writhing and twitching, his legs wrapping tighter around his waist, his feet digging into his ass.

"Who's Omega are you?" Dick grunted, his hips bucking, his length pumping in and out of the smaller man's gushing and twitching entrance.

"y-you're! f-fuck ... a-ah ... yours. I'm your Omega," Y/N cried, his chest rising and falling as he clung to the Alpha's larger body, his hands clawing and grasping at his muscled back.

"What else?" Dick asked, his thrusts becoming faster and harder, his hips slamming and pounding, his balls slapping and hitting the Omega's ass.

"I-I belong t-to you, a-and no one e-else," Y/N whimpered, his head dropping to the Alpha's broad shoulder, his hands sliding down to grip his strong biceps, his chest heaving.

"Tell me, baby, will you ever deny or reject me again?" Dick demanded, his tone serious, grabbing the Omega's jaw again and forcing him to look into his eyes.

"Never," Y/N answered immediately, his body shaking.

"And, why not?"

"Because I'm your Omega, and only yours. No one else's," the smaller male replied, his heart hammering and his stomach twisting.

"Good, good. Now, tell me who I am," Dick growled, his hips picking up speed, his cock slamming into the Omega's twitching and spasming entrance.

"Y-you're my Alpha, the only Alpha I will ever take, the only Alpha that can knot and breed me," Y/N moaned, his head dropping back, his body jerking and trembling.

"And, who am I going to breed and claim? Who am I going to mark and put a bond on?"

"M-me, fuck, me, please," Y/N cried, his entire body on edge and ready to snap.

"Are you mine, baby?"

"Y-yes! yes, Dick, I'm yours,"

"And, are you going to be my perfect little Omega, let me do whatever I want to you, let me mark and fill you with my seed whenever and wherever I want, carry my babies, and give me a family."

"Yes, o-ohh FUCK yes!"

Dick's thrusts increased in speed, his rhythm faltering as his knot began to form.

"You're gonna take my last name, aren't you, baby? You're going to be mine, and only mine,"

"Y-yes. oh, god, y-yes," Y/N cried, his body trembling and his cunt dripping, his cocklette pulsing and aching, his chest leaking.

"Y/N Grayson, mmm, sounds so fucking good, baby," Dick groaned, his hips bucking and jerking, his knot getting larger.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, FUCK," Y/N screamed, his head thrown back and his body arching, his eyes shut tightly as his vision went white, his orgasm splashing and coating their fronts.

"Oh, fuck, baby. Yes, cum, milk me," Dick ordered, his hips pistoning, his cock ramming and rubbing the smaller male's walls, his balls slapping against his ass, "Fuck, you feel so good. Such a good boy. Take it, take my knot. Fuck."

"f-fuck ... god ...! O-OHH, FUCK!"

"That's right, baby. Let me fill you. Make you mine," Dick snarled, his hips slamming and bucking, his hands grabbing the Omega's thighs and lifting them up, his lips sucking and biting his nipples, "Mine, my mate, my Omega, MY Y/N."

"F-fuck, p-please ... !"

"Gonna claim and breed you, baby. Give you a big, fat, happy, round belly,"

"O-oh, Dick. D-DICK, PLEASE," Y/N moaned, his chest arching, his nipples and cunt throbbing, his stomach flipping, and his cocklette twitching.

"You'd love that, wouldn't you, baby?" His knot was right there...

"Y-yes, please," Y/N sobbed, his head bobbing, his hair flopping in his face.

"Yes, what, baby? Yes, what,"

"Make me yours, fuck me, breed me, mark me, claim me, make me your Omega,"

"Say my name, baby. Who do you belong to?"

"You. f-FUCK. You, Dick. I belong to you Dick."

"That's right. All mine, baby, only mine," Dick's hips started moving again, his knot popping in and out of the smaller male's soaked hole.

A few thrusts later and Dick was letting out a guttural roar as his knot finally popped and locked the two of them together, his seed painting the smaller male's walls.

The Alpha groaned, feeling his cock throb inside the walls of his Omega as he leaned down, capturing the exhausted male in a sweaty and tired kiss as he pumped him full of his seed. When they broke the kiss, both of them breathing heavily and covered in sweat and cum, Dick smiled, cupping the smaller male's cheek and looking into his eyes, his own shining with pride and adoration.

"You were so amazing, baby. You did so well, Y/N," He whispered, his thumb stroking the side of the smaller male's face, his hand running through his hair, "You'll see, soon. You're gonna love me, and we'll have a beautiful life together. I'll teach you to love me."

His face fell into the Omega's neck, leaving small kisses along the bruises, especially over where his scent gland, where his mating mark would go, "You'll see. Soon, you'll be mine," The Alpha muttered into his skin.

Y/N rubbed his hands up and down the sweaty back of the Alpha, his eyes opening in narrow slits as he looked past the up and down rising back of the man on top of him, a firm resolution in his mind.

'We'll see about that.'

☀️ | Dick Grayson/Nightwing | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

🌓 | Part 3 | 🌓

🌙 | Nightwing & Shadow | 🌙 (this image was genrated by Bing AI)

[impyssadobsessions]

WWT Mer Edition Doodles !

Here's my Collection of doodles from Haunting Heroes Discord event Who Wrote That? Mer Edition. I drew doodles of everyone's fics >w< Probably will break these down in separate posts. But I will go back and add links to this post <3 there was like 22 fics XD Also slight spoilers ahead. Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

This one has batfamily entirely different types of mers. So many descriptions in a fun fluffy way.

I love the description of Danny in this one >w< And the cute flirting between Kaldur and Danny <3

This one was so bittersweet- I love it ;w; Two creatures of sky and ocean and neither can really be with each other except on the shore <3

This one is so interesting! Changing Amity to shore/island like city. Ghosts being sirens instead- just such a good switch up. Its refreshing! Love all the detection work.

I love the interactions in this one XD Danny's disbelief that crying is not him just dying. Kind of wished I done a more detailed doodle ;w; but still <3 And it has a happy ending ;w; Demon twins back together even if Danny still works for Vlad XD just very nice <3

This one is short and funny- though also like Noooo don't flush the baby mans!!! XD

This one is so cute. Danny/Tim >w< Tim just enamored <3 Its sweet, just a tale of them growing closer despite Danny being stuck in a tank and Tim being a biologist. <3

This was so sweet at the end. Jason in fight mode the whole time and then gets family he needs >w< <3 Also the mers are tiny in this one.

The only fic where Jazz was not doing so hot! Jazz became human and then ill- So Danny doing whatever he can to help her. ;w; Its a bit ambiguous as her fate- but I still enjoyed the oh shit realization XD <3

Cujo is a shark pup in this one >w< He found Danny's twin. This was so cute- don't be too put off by the uwu language- the second chapter is the same story just not with the uwu language XD I had to read that version. Dialogue still in uwu <3

[dedalvs]

Hello! I have been trying to find out if there is a Trigedasleng word for Phantom, but I have come up short.

you wouldnt happen to just know that would you?

Dokwocha is a word for "ghost". I find often, though, with questions like this there is often an expectation that there will be an exact match for a particular synonym that exist in English. For example, in the neighborhood of "ghost", we have spectre, phantasm, ghoul, spook, phantom, geist, poltergeist, spirit, shade, etc. You may look at some of these words and say, "Well, but that doesn't quite mean exactly the same thing," and I'm sure you're right, but the reason we have all these words is they come from different languages at different points in time history from different stories, different cultures, different traditions, etc. Their histories are quite specific, and so the odds of finding an exact match in a language that doesn't share the same history are astronomical. For a more absurd example, it's kind of like asking what the Dothraki word for "skibidi" is. Obviously that's an extreme example, but it's the same issue.

Now, Trigedasleng, of course, is unique. It derives from English. But it derives in an extremely contrived, unrealistic way. There was a massive schism that occurred with the nuclear event. American culture—world culture—effectively vanished over night for most people. What remained would have been what was committed to memory, then what the next generation remembered, and then what they passed on, and so forth. My assumption is that a lot of the synonyms that populate English vocabulary would have been lost. What synonyms remained would've taken on a more functional load in order to be retained (e.g. las from "last" means "previous", but praya from "prior" only means something like "baggage"; it lost its "previous" meaning)—at least at first. Synonyms come later.

When it comes to something so heavily cultural like "ghosts" I tried to imagine how superstitions would have reemerged within Grounder culture before the events of The 100—what kind of ghost stories they may have told, what they were afraid of, what kind of supernatural beings they may have dreamed up. I came up with the idea of dokwocha from "dock watcher"—one who watches from the docks—and thought it sounded ominous. I didn't have a specific story in mind, but it sounded like the type of thing older children might warn younger ones of. "Beware of the watcher on the docks!" Sounded spooky and fun. Hence, dokwocha. I don't know if it evokes the same thing as "phantom", or if, for whatever reason, you decided dokwocha wasn't good enough for "phantom", but that's what we have at the moment.

A commenter mentioned they thought it came from "dark watcher", and I actually went back and looked at the etymology and it does!!! That's my bad there. It is dark watcher, not dock watcher, and that makes sense (someone that watches in the dark). Duh. lol This is why you have to write these things down—which I did—and why you have to read the things that you write down—which I did not. >.<

[stealingyourbones]

*slowly shuffles a wooden box of finger bones towards you* so I have two ideas for you

So, what if ghosts like, really screw with video technology, so it all kind of looks corrupted at all times- so when Danny starts recording like a blog of daily like in amity park (maybe as a way to cope with Trauma) and he posts it, maybe people outside of amity could think it’s all just like, an ARG or analog horror- if you want to go with dc/dp here, tim could be trying to solve a nonexistent mystery

For idea two, do you know ab the mystery flesh pit? If you don’t it’s basically an unreality where a gigantic super organism is turned into a National park and it’s then shit down when the organism basically coughs in its sleep and destroys a lot of stuff-( also be warned, there is a lot of body horror involved in this, so if anyone’s sensitive to it maybe don’t look at any content!) so maybe Giant Danny is taking a nap and some villains find the GIANT GHOST TAKING A SLEEP and decide to hook him up to be used as like, a battery or Lazerus pit (if you go the route of his blood being lazerus water) and the heroes get involved trying to figure out what’s happening

oh man that would be so fun. Danny just takes a little school project 10 minute documentary of the town and doesn't think too much of it when he submits it to Youtube so he can send it to his teacher.

A week later and every ARG/Analog Horror nerd on the planet has heard about this brilliantly well produced video called "Amity Park"

Now knowing this, He decides to have some fun. He takes ominous shots of mundane Amity life and splices them between the more normal scenes of himself and his friends having fun and hanging out.

He amps up the uncanny level. Throughout all of his videos, he starts to tell a slightly dramatized version of his life, not the Phantom stuff, but his life as a Fenton.

The whole world watches in awe and delight as this refreshingly new Analog Horror channel posts nearly twice a week with some of the most stunning CGI that they've ever seen. I mean 'c'mon, Sentient food. A child living in the house of two mad scientists who casually mention dismembering and destroying ghosts at the dinner table. An honest to god crazy scientist lab with a massive portal to this 'Ghost Zone' just in their basement?! Yeah, whoever made this has an absolutely incredible imagination. (Some people are even dissing it since this GZ really just feels like a warped version of The Backrooms but it's fine, it's unique enough that it makes up for it.)

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I am a hoe for any and every topic that Wendigoon talks about in his videos so I very much so know about the Mystery Flesh Pit. (Video is linked but be warned; Benji isn't joking when they say that it's a LOT of body horror.)

I'd like to propose that Danny isn't even on earth, he's on a different planet that has collected his blood and harnessed his core for energy on a massive scale, helping create and produce items that benefit their world greatly.

To Danny, Their mining, harvesting, and energy draining efforts are the equivalent to bacteria moving around his body. He's so massive that this civilization isnt impacting him in the slightest.

The JL get called because this strange planet superorganism is now moving and it's causing the destruction of an entire civilization.

They fly over to the planet and they notice something very very wrong with the shape of the planet.

First and foremost, the two eyes spanning the equivalent width of Texas that stares up at their ship is new.