#but once again the sticking point is why no one in the white fang is getting cold feet after an entire platoon got ganked

[constantvariations]

Weiss's line "Not every story has a neat and tidy ending" is an absolutely buckwild thing to say to someone freaking out about how they don't know what the true goal of the people who just let loose a horde of grimm on a civilian city

Girl, this ain't about a messy ending to a fictional tale, this is about a terrorist attack wtf!!!

[vampiricstoryteller]

Middle of the Night

Hey all! Happy Valentine’s Day! I’ve been working really hard to write some Richette fics for yall and the first one is ready. I hope you all like it!

Summary: Richter comforts Annette after some intense nightmares

Read on A03 here

As always all mistakes are my own, I will come back and fix them later.

Warnings: Smut, Cursing, Thigh Riding, Frightening Moments

Annette’s always had exceptional control over her dreams. Even as a child she’d been able to pull herself out of any dream she didn’t like, no matter what. She’d come to think of it as her own little trick of the mind. Which is why when she starts hunting vampires and the ability slips through her fingers like sand, Annette has a hard time adjusting. She always assumed it would be the nightmares about slavery that would be the ones to trap her in endless torment. And don’t get her wrong, sometimes those memories were so powerful they would suck her in while her eyes remained wide open; a burn in the deepness of her back so agonizing it would immobilize her in place.

But the nightmares about the vampires and night creatures are different.

They’re deranged, cold, confusing and don’t just leave her breathless with fear; they wash her very soul with it. Annette feels sick every time she wakes with a scream caught in her throat, tears wetting her face and sweat sticking her to the sheets. The chill of blackened claws reaching for her from out of the darkness or sharp white fangs grazing her neck can stay with her for days and send harsh bone rattling shivers throughout her entire body, often overlapping with the nightmares of the next evening and rendering Annette almost delirious with exhaustion.

Her only saving grace is that the nightmares come at random. There’s no pattern to them, no special timing or certain circumstances that provoke them. The only warning she ever gets is the boulder sized knot that twists her stomach to the point of tears, usually it arrives at the last meal of the day and stays until she falls asleep; as if the two are in communication and trading off signals to each other. Annette would drive herself crazy trying to figure the details out if she wasn’t so relieved to not be consistently tormented. It’s a double edge sword that she can only balance on the tip of and wait for something, her body or her mind, to break.

Usually, she has Edouard to bring her down from the panic. His comforting touch is immeasurably important to her and for a while she became used to waking up clutching tightly to one of his hands or his whole entire arm. He could sense her nightmares coming hours before they happen, he claimed the colors around her would suddenly change; switching from the pretty pink to a deep sinister grey and he knew the night would be long for her, knew that she would shake for the next few days.

Edouard being taken from her, shatters the fragile sense of stability her mind had been wading in. It devastates Annette on a level she didn’t know was possible, seizes her bones and joint with a chill she didn’t know could exist. She doesn’t sleep for days after their failed attempt to attack the vampire aristocrats. She’d lost her cool, she’d let her emotions get the better of her and Edouard paid the price for it. She’d gone and ruined everything they’d worked so hard for.

Then everything changes, again.

The nightmares neither get better or worse upon learning later that Edouard is alive. She’s still cold, her fingertips still stiffly frozen no matter how close she puts them to the fire. Edouard’s been turned into a night creatures but he is still there, still her beautiful opera singer with the stunning blue eyes. In a way, she remains in the stagnant place she’s fallen into.

Annette forgoes sleep for days once again after she makes the connection that Edouard has not died, a new fear creeping up her throat that he might be the thing haunting her unconsciousness now instead of pulling her out of the terrified haze. The thought alone turns her shaking damn near permanent. And she knows she wouldn’t be able to mentally handle a nightmare where it’s Edouard who rips her to pieces.

It’s well into the aftermath of their first lost to Erzsebet when it dawns on Annette that she’ll be in the presence of what should be perceived as an actual nightmare, for the foreseeable future. Though Alucard himself, is an anomaly and not what one usually gets when face to face with a vampire. Annette is fascinated by him, a half human half vampire that fights for the side of good? She has question upon question for him, but refrains from bombarding him. He’s only just arrived and the gigantic knot in her stomach has returned once again to give some indication of the night to come; Alucard will be the least of her worries.

She’s sat on a large stone, waiting for Richter as he says bye to Maria when the half vampire sits beside her. She glances at him from the side of her eyes, taking in his unearthly beauty.

“I apologize, if my presence makes you uncomfortable.” He says quietly, the roughness of his voice a stark contrast to the gentleness of his tone.

“It’s not you,” Annette says assuredly. “I didn’t even know it was possible for vampires to have children.”

“I have never met anyone like me.” He admits. “Though I am told I am not the only one.”

Annette nods, “you’re not frightening, new and surprising but not in a bad way.”

“Then there is something else that disturbs you?” He asks.

Annette shrugs, twisting her fingers together in her lap. The tremors in her hands aren’t bad today, despite the draining ordeal she just went through. She thought she’d been hiding her discomfort rather well, there was literal chaos around them. Richter’s been giving her his concerned gaze since she emerged from basement but Richter was always looking at her like that after they did anything involving enemies. He didn’t count.

Annette chews on her lip, very aware that Alucard has turned his golden gaze to her during the prolonged silence. He waits patiently, his eyes calm and sincere.

“I’ve been having trouble sleeping.” She blurts out eventually, feeling heat around the tips of her ears. “I don’t want it to get in the way of what we’re about to set out to do.”

Alucard nods once, a pensive look passing across his face. “I think, perhaps, there is strength in knowing when it is time to lean on the ones you trust.” His eyes flicker behind her where Richter is still talking with Maria. “Our minds can only handle so much before there is no turning back.”

The dhampir stands, his movement graceful and silent. He offers her a peaceful smile and the bushes to her right rustle, Richter’s heavy footsteps approaching.

Alucard glides off in the opposite direction, his footsteps silent and his cape flicking hard under the breeze of imaginary wind just as Richter steps into her line of sight. His shoulders are sagging in defeat and a frown turning his lips downward. Annette immediately sits up straighter, her concern for him temporarily subsides the ache in her stomach.

“Maria doesn’t want me here.” He says dejectedly.

“She’s grieving.” Annette offers. “Her anger will pass, I’m sure.”

Richter nods, crossing his arms over his chest. “We can’t wait around for it,”

“It’s okay, we’ll meet back up with them soon.” Annette says with a comforting smile. “Hopefully we’re able to get a boat and the trip won’t take long at all.”

“Yeah,” Richter glances at her, hesitating a moment before he inquires. “Are you okay?”

She turns her head towards him, seeing the genuine concern in his expression as he waits patiently for her answer. Alucard’s encouragement from minutes before is fresh on her mind and steadying the wave of nausea that she feels at the idea of voluntarily admitting to this kind of mental obstacle. Annette closes her eyes for a moment, breathing deep and saying as she exhaled,

“I’ve been having a lot of nightmares, they’re effecting my sleep.”

She winces at the silence that follows her confession and Annette squints her eyes open a tiny bit to look at Richter. He’s got an even deeper frown on his face than the one before, his blue eyes calculating and she knows he’s already thought up at least five different ways to try and help her. Fondness settle in her heart and Annette blinks her eyes open fully when his large hand reaches over and covers both of hers in her lap.

“How can I help?” He asks in determination. “What do you need Annette?”

She lets out a breathless chuckle, shrugging her shoulders and turning her hands in his so she can hold onto him.

“Be ready to wake me up when I start screaming, I suppose.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alucard does not manage to find a boat.

So unfortunately for now, they’re going to walk and hope that somewhere down the line they happen across an abandoned one.

Richter takes the job description very seriously. He’s always near Annette anyways, but now he’s so close that their arms brush one another with every step they take and fight as hard as it may; the knot in her stomach is soon overpowered by the heat on her face. It’s so painfully clear that Richter wants to hold her hand that about an hour into their journey, Annette clicks her tongue and the next second when their fingers brush for the hundredth time she interlaces them.

Richter makes a noise of surprise, his blue eyes widening in shock before he squeezes her hand tight and settles into the rhythm of her walk.

“I’ve been thinking.” He says finally, drawing not only Annette’s attention but Alucard’s as well. Though the half vampire doesn’t fall into step with them.

“And?” Annette prompts when he doesn’t launch into a long winded explanation of whatever plans he’s thought up.

“Maybe your nightmares are trying to tell you something?” Richter suggests. “Maybe there’s a message hidden in the terror.”

Annette nods, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. “Yeah, I’ve wondered that too.” She sighs and smiles a bit sadly when Richter squeezes her hand again. “I just don’t have the control of my mind that I should.”

“Don’t say that, Annette.” Richter almost pleads, his footsteps suddenly ceasing as he tightens his grip on her hand and tugs her in front of him so that they’re chest to chest.

“Richter—.”

“We can beat these nightmares, together. I can protect you while you sleep.” He says desperation edging into his determination.

Annette stares up at him, tracking the different smudges of dirt on his face and the tiredness thats beginning to droop upon his shoulders. It’s been a long day for both of them, for different reasons that intertwined with each other and keep them connected. She smiles, patting his chest with her free hand and still clings tightly to his fingers wrapped around her own down at their sides.

“You have to get rest too, we’ll figure something out.” She says firmly. “I know we will.”

“Together.” Richter nods.

Annette smiles, “Yeah, together.”

They catch up with Alucard who is still walking but not too far ahead. As they fall in step with him, he points to a set of rolling hills not far away.

“Though there seem to be no boats, we may be in luck with the next few miles,” he says. “I saw many abandoned homes and small mansions on my way to your group, we can take shelter in one for the night.”

Annette frowns slightly. “Mansions come in sizes?” She looks up at Richter who only shrugs seemingly as confused as she is.

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

They both ignore the rumble of exasperation from their travel companion, deciding to spiral into a light hearted conversation about things they can hunt and gather for when they decide to spot for the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The trio walks a good sixteen miles or so before Alucard darts off into the sky, the pink of the setting sun a beautiful background as he explaining that he can find shelter quicker and easier from above.

“What a dream it must be to be able to fly.” Annette sighs wistfully as they watch the pale man glide away in the darkening sky.

Richter snorts, swinging their still joined hands. “Come on, let’s go sit and wait for the cool one to return.”

Annette laughs, rolling her eyes as she lets him tug her over to a fallen tree branch thats just big enough for two people. They sit together, Richter squeezing her hand between both of his as he asks.

“How long have you been having these bad dreams?”

She shrugs, averting her gaze to a group of squirrels settling in a tree above them. “Since I started hunting night creatures, really.” She bites her bottom lip, thinking back, she raises her free hand and holds it out in front of them. Richter sucks in a sharp breath when after a pause, her hand begins to tremble. “When the first one happened I didn’t think much of it, even though the shaking had already started. I thought it was a normal reaction and would eventually pass.”

Richter brushes his thumb over the back of her hand in comfort and Annette closes her eyes. They’d been slowly growing bolder with their touches, letting their hands linger near each other when they sat together or brushing arms when they passed one another. She likes holding his hand too, the weight of it alone settles the nerves that draw her shoulders up to her ears. She likes that he will so openly cling to her if he thinks that what she needs.

“Obviously they haven’t passed, they’re infrequent but keep happening. And the chill never really leaves, no matter how much I turn my face to the sun and my hands to the fire.” Annette sighs out, reaching up with the hand that’d just been shaking to press the heel of her palm into her eyes. “It’s maddening and annoying.”

Richter’s fingers wrap around her forearm, gentle but firm as he tugs her hand away from her face.

“You’re sure it’s not an evil spirit or some outside force?” He asks, his frown carving a deep pit of real worry on his face.

Annette shakes her head, “No, I check all the time.” She lets her head hang for a moment, sighing heavily. “Edouard always theorizes it is my brains response to stress. He thought maybe after we found you, they would stop but….Surprise, they have not.”

From the corner of her eye, she can see Richter open his mouth; most likely to apologize and she squeezes his hand tight.

“It’s not your fault, Richter.” She says.

Behind them, a shadow lowers from the sky slowly and together they turn to greet the dhampir who has returned with two dead rabbits hanging from his belt. His arms are crossed over his chest and he motions for them to follow after him, prompting them to stand.

“I take it you found a place for us to sleep?” Richter asks when the blondes leather boots touch back onto the ground.

“Yes, it’s just in the other side of the clearing ahead.” Alucard replies. “Freshly abandoned, it would seem most the homes in this area are.”

“But why?” Annette frowns. “Are they running from Erzsebet?”

“Her eclipse likely set out a very deep fear in people who believed themselves above such things.” Alucard shrugged. “Many will probably never return.”

Richter and Annette follow after him in silence, both of them wondering about the lengths aristocratic people would go to avoid facing the consequences of their own sinister decisions.

It’s only about a twenty minute walk to the home that Alucard declared safe enough to spend the night in. It’s not a massive mansion, but it isn’t small like Tera’s cottage either. There are four rooms, two on either side of a massive living room and dining suite with an attached kitchen. The rooms are all messy, belongings from the previous owners strewn about as evidence of someone packing in a rush.

After lighting one candle for each of them, Alucard takes the rabbits to the kitchen, calling over his shoulder for them to find where they plan to sleep. They both wait until he’s disappeared into the other room completely before Richter smirks and tugs her across the living room towards the first set of rooms.

“You know it doesn’t matter which one, they’re all the same.” Annette says hiding a smile behind her hand.

“We’ve been sleeping on the ground for weeks, I might try to sleep on all four of the beds if I can.” Richter says opening the first closed door he comes across.

Annette can only shake her head, letting her lips turn up into a smile as they both peek their heads into a normal bedroom. It’s simple, with only a bed, dresser and small table in one corner. The bedding is a pale grass green that changes shades with the flicker of the flames. The room next door is the same, only difference being the color of the bedding; instead of green they squint into the barely lit room and find purple blankets awaiting them.

“We should double up with the bedding.” Richter says thoughtfully. “Doesn’t matter which one we sleep in, we should bring the stuff from the one we don’t. Try and keep the cold to a minimum.”

Annette agrees and after they check the two rooms on the opposite side of the home, they decide to go with the first one; the green room she had started to calling it in her mind. It takes a good fifteen minutes to move the other thick comforter blankets into the green room and drape them thickest to lightest on the small bed.

Annette isn’t expecting for Richter to mumble something about being able to sleep sitting up on the floor next to the bed. She frowns at him for a long moment, unable to stop herself from blurting out somewhat harshly.

“What are you talking about?”

He scratches at the back of his neck, the tips of his ears red. “Well it’s a small bed….”

Annette raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest. “I thought we could make it work?” She tilts her head. “Unless you don’t think you can sleep next to me?”

“N-No! I can—I just wasn’t sure—I mean I didn’t know if you’d be okay sleeping with me.”

She smirks, letting the end of his sentence hang in the air and when realization dawns on his face Annette giggles into her hand as he splutters trying to correct himself. Annette crosses the small room, the heels of her boots suddenly loud as they echo off the walls. She holds her hand out to Richter when she’s only a step or two away from him and she’s quick to take hold of it, cradling hers between both of his.

“You’re overthinking it too much,” She says gently, “I’ve asked you to be there when I start screaming, I think that already covers the sharing a bed part.”

Looking up into his stunningly bright blue eyes, Annette smiles and lets her chest brush against his.

“I definitely want to sleep with you, Richter.” Her lips threaten to tug into a smirk at the blush that races down the columns of his neck.

“We’re in this together, aren’t we?” She asks, watching as several emotions flash across his face.

Richter nods, his smile and determination returning to him as he squeezes her hand assuredly.

“Yes, together.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the dining area, Alucard offers them slightly undercooked bowls of rabbit stew and though it could have shimmered longer it’s not nearly as bad as Annette expected it to be. And she realizes belatedly that Alucard made it for them alone, choosing to stoke a fire while they ate, so how could he have known if it needed longer or not?

She and Richter are both grateful for the hot meal all the same, and the stories Alucard briefly entertains them with. It’s hard to believe he’s over 300 years old just by looking at him, but once he begins sharing memories of before the most recent turn of the century; his details are too accurate and precise to be lies. Not to mention every time he smiles, only twice so far, his fangs glimmer at them.

They sit near the fire until Annette’s head begins to lull to the side and seek out Richter’s shoulders. He helps her stand, Alucard bidding them goodnight and dismissing Richter’s inquiries about switching keeping watch.

“I do not require the same amount of sleep as humans, I can keep watch tonight.” He bows his head to them slightly. “Rest, recharge for the day tomorrow. I will try harder to find us a boat.”

Annette thanks him, offering the dhampir a tired smile before she and Richter retire to the room with the small bed and every comforter in the house piled on top of it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They end up sitting side by side on the bed, removing their boots and weapons and outer accessories. She untucks her white undershirt, coming out of the yellow vest and neatly folding the red sash, toeing off her socks as well.

“We should probably take off as much bulk as we can.” Annette says, glancing at the slim mattress. “It’s really not a lot of room,”

Richter nods, patting the three extra layers of blankets they have. He grins at her, grabbing one of her hands and kissing the tips of her fingers. Annette’s cheeks start to burn before he even opens his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure I’ve got enough body heat for the both of us.” As if in agreement, her hand shakes in his. “We’ll get this chill out of you, one way or another.”

Annette laughs, gently pulling away so that she can stand and wiggle out of her trousers, leaving her with just her button up and underwear. Richter gets to his feet too, though he has more clothing to come out of than her and Annette takes advantage by crawling into the bed first. She burrows under the thick blankets, unwilling to admit just yet that the chill was nearly chattering her teeth.

When Richter slides under the blankets behind her, Annette has to bite her lip to keep from groaning at the sweltering heat that radiates from him. She rolls to look at him, their eyes meeting as Richter settles next to her, both of them on their sides. The bed isnt wide enough for them to not touch so Annette entangles her legs with his, both of them blushing at the first real skin on skin contact they’ve ever had with each other.

Underneath the blankets but over her shirt, one of Richter’s hands slowly moves to rest on her ribcage. The weight of his hand on her body pitches a massive feeling of security in Annette’s chest, the nightmare knot is still just below it but the presence of Richter has filled every corner of her mind. It’s all consuming and Annette lets a yawn out as she blinks sleepily at him.

“Ready to sleep?” He asks softly.

She nods, exhaustion flickers at her consciousness and she placed both hands on his chest, her fingertips pulsing against his bare skin.

“Rest, Annette.” He murmurs, his lips brushing the tip of her nose. “I’m here, I’ll keep you safe.”

As she drifts to sleep, Annette has the passing final thought about how much she believes him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She manages two and a half hours of sleep, she thinks, it could have been three or maybe even just an hour; tracking time through out the night is hard sometimes. Her dreams start fuzzy and uncomfortably bright, leaving her feeling as if she’s spent hours rolling down hills. She’s disoriented and freezing by the time the nightmares arrive, the darkness claws at her limbs and stuffs black smoke down her throat until she can’t breathe. She can feel the terror lapping its way up her spine as a night creature edges into her sight. It’s mouth open wide with a black spotted tongue lulling between two inhumanely large canine teeth. It looks at her with piercing black eyes and cold sharp teeth graze her neck.

Annette’s body jolts with unrestrained fear.

Her bones are stiff like they’ve been wrapped with ice, joints creaking in brittle tension while her back burns and seeps in utter agony. The tears on her cheeks are hot, almost to the point of burning her face and Annette wants to scream—

“Annette!”

Blue flames burst around her and Annette gasps for air that she can finally breathe. Her eyes snap open, for a moment she can only see the blazing shade of blue she’s become so familiar with and nothing else. Her face is wet, so is the pillow underneath her head and her body though not locked in agony; pulses with ripples of pain from head to toe.

As the flames calmly fade, Annette blinks her gaze into focus and Richter’s face takes shape only a few inches away from her own. He’s talking to her, his mouth moving quickly but she can’t hear the words coming from him. There is only the roaring rush of water in her ears and belatedly Annette remembers it’s the sound of her blood pumping.

He reaches up, cupping her face with one hand and gently wiping away her still falling tears with the knuckles of his other. She shivers, her knees knocking together under the blankets and her teeth chattering. Richter’s eyes flicker over her face, a deep frown of concern sits on his brow and distantly Annette wishes she could smooth her fingers over his face to push the emotion away.

He grimaces when she still doesn’t respond to whatever he’s saying. Annette doesn’t know how to tell him that she can’t hear anything, she closes her eyes and tries to swallow around the lump that’s blocking her words. Richter’s hands shift from her face to her neck, the thick digits are a welcomed weight on her cold skin and when he tugs her towards him, Annette goes willingly.

He is so warm. The heat from his skin draws her in and Annette wraps around him, her body desperately seeking out anything that will stop the cold tension in her bones. She presses her nose into the meat of his shoulder, eyes fluttering closed when heat slowly begins to seep into her face. Richter’s hand slip under her shirt, perching on her bare side and lower back; heat blossoming there too. She tangles her legs around one of his, trapping his thigh between both of hers and Annette’s ears clear when she’s finally able to unclench her jaw; her sense of sound flooding back in. Her fingertips dig into the groove of Richter’s shoulder blades when the feeling returns to them, his skin smooth and hot under the vibrating pads.

Richter’s still speaking to her, his voice calm and steady like the feeling of his hands on her torso.

“—here with me, Annette. You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

She pulls in a deep breath, her voice shaky as she lurches his name off her tongue. “R-Ri-Richter.”

His fingers flex on her cold bare skin, he pulls back slightly so they can meet eyes and sighs in relief,

“There you are.”

Annette stares at him, her mind blanking for a long moment and then she licks her chapped lips twice before asking hoarsely.,

“W-Was I screaming?”

Richter shakes his head. “No, you were crying and your body heat disappeared. It was so sudden I didn’t know what to think, I just knew I needed to wake you up.”

Unsure what to say, Annette nods and lets her eyes slip closed again; her body surging with little shocks of remembrance and her hands slid over his shoulders down to his chest. It’s Richter that tenses this time, jerking in sudden panic as he stutters out,

“W-Wait! D-Don’t close your eyes yet, please.” On her ribs, his thumb strokes her skin and brushes the underside of her left breast.

Annette is certain the click of her eyelids snapping open echoes around the room. She looks up, her lungs expanding when she meets Richter’s fierce gaze. There’s a line of genuine protectiveness etching its way onto his brows as he looks at her, his blue eyes shining with desperate anguish.

“Stay awake with me a little longer Annette, please.” His thumb swipes again, but she’s sinking into the electric warmth of his stare and the shock has melted into something else. “I just want to make sure.”

Her lips twitch up, a smile dancing across them as she nods slowly and whispers. “I’m okay,” a sharp twinge zig zags up her back and she winces. “Mostly okay, I’m mostly okay.”

Richter squeezes her side, the palm of his hand wide and heavy on her ribs. He is so warm, she can’t get enough of the heat that’s slowly alleviating the frozen joints she’d given up on ever thawing.

“What hurts?” he asks gently.

Annette shrugs once, nibbling on her bottom lip as she assesses her body for the first time since she regained consciousness. The tremors have lessened, no longer forcing her teeth to chatter and her mind doesn’t feel like it’s swimming through molasses. She’s still cold, but she’s not freezing the way she had been just minutes before. Small sharp pricks of pain line themselves along her arms and back, sounding off every few heartbeats but Annette barely registers them.

Richter’s thumb swipes her skin again and Annette blinks rapidly. Waves of heat ripple through her from the space that the rough pad smoothes over and reach all the way down to her toes. She squeezes his leg between her thighs, practically sitting on the thick muscle.

“Annette?”

“It’s small pains,” she murmurs. “They don’t hurt bad, it’s okay.”

Richter grimaces, “why don’t I believe you?”

His hand leaves her side, seeking out favor instead in her hair and Annette sighs contently when his fingers massage deep into her scalp.

“It’s just my back.” She whispers, the words wanting to catch in her throat but she forces them out anyways. “It’s not a big deal.”

Richter’s eyes sweep over her and his hand on her lower back, which has been locked in place and holding her steady, gently presses down so that her weight is on his thigh.

“Richter,” she sighs, now aware of the way her thin underwear rubs against the apex between her hips.

“Do you trust me, Annette?” He asks quietly, his voice nearly inaudible.

She nods without thinking. She doesn’t have to because she trusts Richter with her life, obviously. On his chest, she digs her nails into his skin.

“I trust you, Richter, always.” Her voice is strong, she thinks, there’s no tremble or uncertainty and his blue eyes shine with adoration the moment the words leave her mouth.

His fingers flex on her scalp, steadying at the crown of her head and Richter bends his head down towards her unhurriedly. Annette gets the hint, tingles crawling under the skin of her fingers and toes as she leans up to meet him. Their lips come together slowly, hesitantly and Annette groans in her throat at the feeling and the heat that blossoms along her jawline.

Kissing Richter is something Annette had yet to allow herself to imagine doing. The unpredictability of hunting vampires didn’t exactly give her the luxury of thinking about romance or kissing or even sex. Between the vigorous physicality of killing their supernatural enemies and the mental exhaustion of her nightmares, there wasn’t much time to do more than acknowledge Richter’s handsomeness in a passing thought kind of way.

He was very handsome. And she did enjoy looking at him when she had the spare second or two. But the actual act of pressing her lips to his, moving her lips against his and opening her mouth when his tongue licks at her bottom lip seeking permission; is nothing like Annette has ever experienced before. There’s no part of her imagination that could have ever thought up something this good, this right.

Richter sucks at her tongue and Annette’s hips grind down on his thigh out of pure instinct.

She whines gutturally at the prickles of pleasure that squirm deep in her hips and the way her hidden bundle of nerves throbs when pressed against Richter’s strained muscle. His fingers on her lower back skim the hemline of her panties, anchoring her in place and helping guide her hips.

“Richter…”

His lips turn up against hers, imprinting his amusement onto her and Annette feels a grin of her own slide into place. She lets her eyes flutter open as she pulls back, breaking the kiss.

“Is this okay?” Richter asks quietly, his hand helping her hips roll down twice.

Annette moans, her head tilting back slightly and she catches sight of the moon shining through the window above their heads.

“It feels so good,” she murmurs, scratching at Richter’s chest.

He smiles, kissing her chin and nipping at her throat as his hand finds a rhythm to guide her hips to. Annette whimpers, feeling his thigh purposely flex each time she comes down on it and her mind surrenders to the blissful heat thats quickly building in her body.

“R-Richter.” She sighs out his name like a prayer, her hands scrambling to find purchase on his shoulders as their pace increases.

“I’m here Annette.” He murmurs against the soft skin of her throat. “I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

His teeth find her collarbone, nipping and pinching the thin skin hard enough to leave marks. Annette pushes her hands into his hair, twisting her fingers in the soft strains and holding him in place. She bucks her hips, the sensations his thigh are pressing into her through her hips is making her pant with need.

“Fuck, Richter.” Her chest is heaving and distantly Annette wishes she’d taken her shirt off completely. “I need you to—please Richter—I need—.”

“I know love.” He soothes, the fingers in her hair tugging on her locs gently. “I know what you need, I have it right here. It’s yours.”

His fingers pulling her hair and his words murmured against her throat explode thousands of pretty stars in Annette’s eyes and she cries out, the bed beneath them creaking slightly as her hips chase after the perfect sensation that Richter’s guiding her towards.

“Richter, please, I can’t…I can’t….”

She squeezes her eyes shut, tension attempting to settle along her limbs and down her back. The build up starts to fade, her focus stumbling as cold rushes up her spine and tears prickle the corners of her eyes, she wants to sob in frustration.

“No, no, fuck—“

“Annette.”

She blinks, feeling Richter shift as he kisses a line up her throat, along her jaw and back to her lips. He pulls back just before her tongue can seek out his and when they meet eyes, a lump of emotion expands in her throat.

“It’s alright,” he says gently. “It’s okay Annette.”

Her brow crumples, the heat of frustration and embarrassment starting to cloud her gaze.

“I’m sorry,” She whispers, averting her gaze. “I messed up.”

“You could never.” Richter chastised softly. He kisses the tip of her nose. “Just breathe with me for a second alright?”

He presses his forehead to hers, his eyes shining in lustful determination and Annette finds it hard to look anywhere else. They take four deep breaths together, their chests rising and falling in sync.

“You’re here with me, aren’t you Annette?” He asks after a few minutes of their breathing being the only sound in the room.

“Yes.” She whispers.

On her back, his fingers push under the waistline of her underwear. His large hand warms the soft skin of her ass as he squeezes and kneads each cheek, he grinds her down on his thigh slowly; quieting her shaky breaths with sweet kisses.

“Doesn’t that feel good, love?” he murmurs, kissing the corner of her mouth.

Annette nods, melting against him as the previous heat returns to her body tenfold. She whimpers, holding Richter’s gaze while he slowly builds her back up to the frantic pace she feared had been lost.

“See,” he whispers. “It’s okay, I’ve still got you.”

She whines, the pitch higher than before. The coil in her belly has rewound itself tighter now, shocking her from her soaked core all the way up to the tingles in her head where Richter was still pulling periodically on her hair.

“Richter, please.”

He kisses her, their breaths mixing together as Annette moans and whimpers against his lips.

“You’re so close Annette,” He rumbles, the deep tone of his voice digging into her hips. “You’re safe with me, it’s okay. You can cum, you’re safe.”

She buries her face in his shoulder, biting at the meatiest part and flicking her tongue against the puckered skin between her teeth. She cums hard, the sudden gush of slick while she clenches around nothing forces a wail from her and her head spins.

“Annette,” Richter growls, his hand gripping her ass shifts her closer, holding her convulsing body against him. Her knee brushes his cock which is hard and straining in his pants, Richter shudders with her through her next aftershock and kisses at the side of her head.

“Okay?” He asks, panting from the exertion.

Annette whimpers, nodding her head and trying to catch her breath while her body subsides into the bed.

“It was so good.” She whispers. “So very good.”

“I’ve got you,” Richter soothes with a chuckle, his hand now stroking her back. His palm brushes several of her scars, the touch light but Annette jumps anyways; unused to such gentleness on that particular area of her body.

Richter stills, his hand hovering and his gaze concerned as he draws back to look down at her.

“Should I not—?”

“No, it’s okay.” Annette blinks sleepily, a yawn pulling her mouth open wide. “It was just unexpected, you’re unexpected.”

She moves, wiggling up the thigh thats still pressed between hers until their torsos are pressed together. It forces her leg on the mattress to straighten out and Annette gasps lightly when Richter’s hips rut forward and his cock becomes trapped between them. She reaches down, intending to free the thick member from not only the confines of their closeness but also his pants as well. She’s just popped the button when Richter reaches down at closes one hand over hers.

“You don’t have to, Annette.” He smiles and kisses the tips of her fingers. “I’m fine.”

“I want to,” she pouts, frowning up at him. “You don’t want me to make you feel good too?”

Richter chuckles fondly, “of course I do, but this wasn’t about me tonight. It was about you.” He grins when she opens her mouth to protest but a yawn sneaks out instead. “There’s still a few hours before we have to get up, you should rest some more.”

“I don’t know if I can.” Annette frowns. She hasn’t checked to see if her body is still subconsciously trembling but she feels too good right now to let herself fall back into a nightmare.

“You can.” Richter says firmly. “I’m here, remember you’re always safe with me.”

He draws his magic out, the blue flames swallowing their connected hands completely. Annette sighs contently, her eyes fluttering at the warmth thats spreading through her arm.

“You’re sure?” She asks, her voice already soft with impending sleep.

“Yes,” Richter kisses her forehead, his blue flames already dancing behind her closed eyes. “I’m sure.”

Annette knows that realistically she’s probably far from done with the nightmares that grip her by the heart and make her shake. But right now, here in this bed in the middle of the night, tucked to Richter’s warm chest; she can’t bring herself to care. Because she also knows that her, with him, she is safe.

The End..

Thank you all for taking the time to read! I hope you enjoyed! Please let me know what you think!

Evie 🤟��

[lovelandfrogispookybear]

12: Brushed and Flossed

Steve's pov

I'm leaning on the kitchen counter, watching Robin talk to Nancy. Everyone else is milling about, doing their own thing.

I hear a ruckus from the bathroom. Quietly, I walk down the hall, and can hear voices.

"YOU NEED TO CLEAN UP YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Eddie shouts.

"BEGONE THOT!" Otto replies. Damn, I didn't know she had that in her. Maybe she's just shy. I knock on the door, and it swings open.

"Eddie, you want to go formally say hi to everybody?" I ask tiredly. "I'll help her get cleaned up."

Eddie looks, reluctant, but takes off anyway. I set down the beer I was drinking, and approach Otto.

"Okay kiddo, no fighting. You got bugs on my dad's nice rug, and to avoid that, we're going to get cleaned up, okay?" I motion to the shower. "When you turn that knob, water will come out. Use the pumps over there for soap, and get all the grime out. When you're done, towel off, I'll bring you some clothes, and then I'll brush up your hair back into ponytails. Deal?"

Otto nods.

"I'm going to go get you some clean clothes, you just throw your dirty clothes into that sink."

I walk out and close the door, and hear the shower switch on. God knows if the kid can actually clean herself, judging off how filthy she was. Might as well let her try, worst case scenario Robin or Nancy could help.

"STEVE! I'M PUTTING ON THE TV!" Mike shouts.

"Yeah, yeah, do whatever," I mutter. Slowly, I trudge into my room and rifle around for suitable clothes. Eventually, I find a clean white shirt and a too small pair of flannel pants that should fit her. I hear laughter from the living room and some stupid sitcom plays.

"Ready for clothes now," the kid mumbles from the other side of the bathroom door. I slip the clothes under the door, and within a few minutes, the door creaks open again.

Otto looks like a whole new person from the one she was 10 minutes ago. Her hair, once a muddy brown mess, is now a pale shade of brown. Her face, formerly covered in dirt, is now clean and pale, but with some small scratches showing. I look into the empty shower, and see a thin layer of crust and bugs plastered to the bottom. A still live centipede crawls down the drain. Of course.

"Alright now, sit down on the counter and I'll brush your hair and bandage you up," I explain, pointing to the sink. Otto scrambles up, and perches on it. I grab my brush and detangler, and get to work.

Otto's pov

"Ohhhh Harringtonnn!" Eddie calls, walking down the hall. "I think it's my turn to clean up!"

Steve walks out of bathroom, and I follows.

"Look at you!" Eddie ruffles my hair. I smiles, my pointy teeth (that have also been freshly "flossed" and "brushed" even though brushing is for hair) that Eddie calls "fangs" sticking out.

"I'm all clean now, Eddie!" I explains, showing him the ponytails Steve gave me.

"Now it's Eds turn to use the shower!" Eddie grin, flicking a specks of dirt at Steve.

"Be warned, there's-" Steve start.

"WHY ARE THERE SO MANY BUGS IN HERE?" Eddie screeches.

"Steve, can I-" I starts.

"Not now kiddo," Steve starters. "I'm too tired to deal with all this."

[iviarellereads]

The Great Hunt, Chapter 16 - In the Mirror of Darkness(1)

(THIS PROJECT IS SPOILER FREE! No spoilers past the chapter you click on. Curious what I'm doing here? Read this post! For the link index and a primer on The Wheel of Time, read this one! Like what you see? Send me a Ko-Fi.)

(Dragon's fang icon) In which I'm not gonna play, we're digging into the unreliable narration immediately.

PERSPECTIVE: Rand has a kerchief wrapped around his hand and refuses to let Loial look at it or apply any salve, knowing it will give away that something is wrong. They've been riding about an hour when they spot a great monument in the distance. Hurin says this is about where the monument to Artur Hawkwing used to be, in their world. Loial points out that should have been three more days' travel from where they were. Hurin thinks they should avoid this structure, whatever it is. Rand says they stick to the trail, so they don't lose it, and only stray if there's trouble afoot.

When they get to the bottom of the monument, they can see it is a spire, at least a hundred spans high, with a great bird at the top. It must be a hawk, Rand says. He adds that they can go back and say what it really looked like, the only three still living in the world who have seen it. Loial isn't so sure. Rand rides excitedly toward it, and closer, even Hurin wonders if it's Hawkwing's monument.

Right up next to it, it's clear the bird is a raven, and the carvings on the spire are Trolloc script. Loial says that in this world ,this might have been, the Trollocs must have won the battle against Hawkwing.(2) If the Trollocs won against humans, maybe they killed each other off, and that's why they haven't seen anything.

Hurin calls for Rand's attention, and says he thought he saw a woman in the northern distance, but maybe it was his eyes playing tricks. Loial says that's not the only thing: the mountains south of them must be the Kinslayer's Dagger range, but those mountains are a hundred leagues south of the Erinin. Rand mutters that maybe this place is like the Ways, and Hurin moans in despair.

Rand is just trying to comfort Hurin, when they hear a scream from the south. Rand rides up as fast as his horse will carry him. The woman is fending off a creature the size of a bear, but with a frog’s skin, and three eyes.(3) Rand shoots it with an arrow, which barely slows it down. 

The woman calls out, somehow much too calmly,(4) that you have to hit an eye to kill it. He does so, touching the void to aim as accurately as possible, and she congratulates him, riding up. He had rather expected her to run away once the thing's attention was diverted.

She was all in white, her dress divided for riding and belted in silver, and her boots, peeking out from under her hems, were tooled in silver, too. Even her saddle was white, and silver-mounted. Her snowy mare, with its arched neck and dainty step, was almost as tall as Rand’s bay. But it was the woman herself—she was perhaps Nynaeve’s age, he thought—who held his eyes. She was tall, for one thing; a hand taller and she could almost look him in the eyes. For another, she was beautiful, ivory-pale skin contrasting sharply with long, night-dark hair and black eyes. He had seen beautiful women. Moiraine was beautiful, if cool, and so was Nynaeve, when her temper did not get the better of her. Egwene, and Elayne, the Daughter-Heir of Andor, were each enough to take a man’s breath. But this woman. . . . His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth; he felt his heart start beating again.

Loial and Hurin ride up, and when she asks Rand if they're his retainers, Loial starts waxing poetical about her beauty. The woman introduces herself as Selene,(5) and though he's tongue-tied, Rand asks where she's from. She says she's from Cairhien, not this world, and will he help her get home? Rand offers to help her, but they have a mission to accomplish first, though he'll try to keep her out of danger. She says she likes a man of duty, yes. Who is it they follow? Hurin tells her it's Darkfriends and Trollocs that stole the Horn of Valere. Rand stares at him, wondering what happened to secrecy.

Selene agrees that it wouldn't do for the Horn to fall into the wrong hands, but will he let her touch it when they find it? Well, first, they have to do the finding. Rand has Hurin pick up the trail again, and they ride on.

Selene rode alongside Rand at first, talking of this and that, asking him questions and calling him lord. Half a dozen times he started to tell her he was no lord, only a shepherd, and every time, looking at her, he could not get the words out. A lady like her would not talk the same way with a shepherd, he was sure, even one who had saved her life. “You will be a great man when you’ve found the Horn of Valere,” she told him. “A man for the legends. The man who sounds the Horn will make his own legends.” “I don’t want to sound it, and I don’t want to be part of any legend.” He did not know if she was wearing perfume, but there seemed to be a scent to her, something that filled his head with her. Spices, sharp and sweet, tickling his nose, making him swallow. “Every man wants to be great. You could be the greatest man in all the Ages.” It sounded too close to what Moiraine had said. The Dragon Reborn would certainly stand out through the Ages. “Not me,” he said fervently. “I’m just”—he thought of her scorn if he told her now that he was only a shepherd after letting her believe he was a lord, and changed what he had been going to say—“just trying to find it. And to help a friend.”

She's silent for a moment, then grabs his hand, unwrapping the kerchief. She says she has an ointment that will help, and it works as well as Nynaeve's sometimes do.(6) Then, Selene makes a comment about how it's always better to choose greatness than to be forced to it. A man who's forced into greatness is never his own master. Rand is confused, and she says, when you find the Horn, there's no avoiding greatness. Will you choose it, or will someone force you to take it? It's so close to what Moiraine once said that he asks if she's Aes Sedai. Her lip curls in a sneer as she says that they serve when they could rule, let men fight wars when they could bring order to the world... no, never call her Aes Sedai.(7) Then she smiles and lays a hand on Rand's arm, to show she's not angry with him, just explaining her feelings.

Selene falls back to talk to Loial, and Rand instantly misses her presence. He makes himself watch their surroundings for more of those creatures, and eventually he realizes they'll reach the Kinslayer's Dagger mountains well before nightfall.

Loial rides up beside him, and says Selene said Rand was right about this place and the Ways. The Aes Sedai studied worlds like this before they made the Ways. Some worlds, you can spend a day in and twenty years might have passed in your own world, or vice versa.(8) This world is so pale because it had little chance of ever really happening. Some worlds are close enough to be solid, and have people, sometimes even the same people, and you could meet yourself.

Rand asks how she can know all that, Loial knows more than Rand ever thought you could know, and everything he knew amounted to a few scraps of paper. Loial says that Selene is Cairhienin, and they have a great royal library. Maybe they have a full version of the book he only saw scraps of. Rand is just saying that he wishes Selene-- when she rides up and asks what he wishes? He changes what he was about to say to say instead that he wishes she would ride next to him for a while. She remarks that he’s quite a shot with that bow, to hit the grolm right in the eye from such a distance and in motion.

Rand shifted awkwardly. “Ah . . . thank you. It’s a trick my father taught me.” He told her about the void, about how Tam had taught him how to use it with the bow. He even found himself telling her about Lan and his sword lessons. “The Oneness,” she said, sounding satisfied. She saw his questioning look and added, “That is what it is called . . . in some places. The Oneness. To learn the full use of it, it is best to wrap it around you continuously, to dwell in it at all times, or so I’ve heard.” He did not even have to think about what lay waiting for him in the void to know his answer to that, but what he said was, “I’ll think about it.” “Wear this void of yours all the time, Rand al’Thor, and you’ll learn uses for it you never suspected.”(9)

Rand repeats that he'll think about it, and asks how she knows all these things that even Loial doesn't know. She names a book, Mirrors of the Wheel, and says the alantin hasn't seen all the books there are. Then before she can be asked to explain what any of that meant, she pivots the conversation to say the Portal Stone she woke up beside is nearby, maybe they can return home by it.

Rand asks Hurin how the trail is, and he says it's still there, but angling west probably to avoid going the harder mountain trails Rand then tells Selene he can take her to the Portal Stone, but she'll have to use it herself. She asks how he knows the Horn is even in this world, and says she doesn't know how to use the Portal Stone anyway.

Rand studied her. She sat her saddle, straight-backed and tall, just as regally as before, but somehow softer, too. Proud, yet vulnerable, and needing him. He had put Nynaeve’s age to her—a handful of years older than himself—but he had been wrong, he realized. She was more his own age, and beautiful, and she needed him. The thought, just the thought, of the void flickered through his head, and of the light. Saidin. To use the Portal Stone, he must dip himself back into that taint.

Rand is extremely reluctant to touch the taint again, so he says if she'll stay with him, he'll find them another way back, he promises.

“You always. . . .” Selene drew a deep breath as if to calm herself. “You always are so stubborn. Well, I can admire stubbornness in a man. There is little to a man who’s too easily biddable.”(10)

Rand blushes, thinking it's too close to things Egwene always says about him, and they've been practically promised to marry since they were kids. From Selene, it's quite a shock. He turns to tell Hurin to keep following the trail, when they hear grunts. Five shapes crest a hill behind them. Selene says calmly that they're more grolm, a small pack must have caught their scent.(11)

=====

(1) What a curious title. That's not quite the name of the book mentioned later on here, either. In fact, since I don't think the chapter makes any actual secret of her identity to the reader, I believe this explicitly refers to Lanfear as the Daughter of the Night (a daughter is a mirror of her mother in some ways, and the night is darkness) as well as more metaphorically to her association with moon imagery, because what else could you see in a mirrored surface at night besides the moon Egwene saw in her eyes in that dream? Especially in association with the Dragon's fang icon, which we know can refer to male magic or Darkfriendery, and who's more a Darkfriend than one of the Forsaken? (2) That might go some way to explaining why this world is such a wasteland. Also, I'm not sure I went into all the Trolloc bands when they came up in book 1, but you can see how they're all derived from names of things white folks think of as mythological evil. Devil, demon, kobold, ifrit. There are a bunch of others as well. (3) What a weird creature. (4) The first clue, of course, even before her name. She's in full control of this situation from the start. (5) No doubt she chose this persona carefully after watching them at least since that first village, and is chewing the scenery like nobody ever has to make sure they suspect her of nothing. Perhaps she's even nudging them along, like Liandrin's little trick on Lady Amalisa. She likes a man of duty, indeed, since all we know of the Dragon's last incarnation is that he was so devoted to his duty he tore the world asunder. Selene, the Greek goddess of the moon. Subtle, she is not. But, how could she find him so quickly? Did Egg really see, or foresee, this encounter? Could Lanfear have known how to activate the portal stone, since she's from the Age of Legends, and is that why she knows what the creatures are? Would she be the kind of crazy ex girlfriend to present herself as a young woman in severely exaggerated distress? (6) Oh yes, because Nynaeve's ointments sometimes get applied with a side dose of magic, when she's not getting in her own way about it or when she's angry. All these little clues are why I think the chapter is beating us over the head with Lanfear's identity and why the unreliable narration is SO important to understand. (7) The title itself isn't all he was asking about, but she's said enough, hasn't she? (8) The old fairy tales, of course. RJ is drawing from enough mythology, he couldn't leave that out. (9) Oh yes, she wants him powerful enough to conquer the world for her. She has no way to be sure he's channeling yet unless he really did activate the portal stone himself, and that seems less likely every page turn. But, if she can ensure he touches the void, and touches saidin, he'll get there. (10) And Rand never stops to think how "Selene" could know enough about him to say ANYTHING in terms of "you always"… (11) How convenient for Lanfear, the grolm will solve the issue presently of which direction to go in.

[ragingbookdragon]

She's A Bird! She's A Plane! She's...Spiderwoman?

Justice League x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.3K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: IDK where this came from but I was watching ITSV, so...there's that. Enjoy! -Thorne

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

“This is your fault,” Barry griped, hacking away at the glowing fauna with the makeshift machete—in reality it was just a really big stick that had a really sharp rock tied to the end. “I told you our trajectory was off and what did you do? You said, ‘I’m Hal Jordan, the greatest pilot in the world. Watch my big head crash us on an alien planet where our central battery gets displaced during the impromptu crash land and thrown miles from our position’.”

“Do you want some cheese with all that whine, Bar?” Hal asked, an unimpressed scowl on his face as he illuminated their footpath. “It’s not my fault the orbital windspeeds were faster than the sensors picked up on. Blame the tech, not me.”

“That sounds like you’re just trying to pass off the blame,” he shot back, swiping down at another vine that wriggled like a dying snake and spat out fluorescent blue liquid on the broken end. “Y’know? Like you do best?”

“Seriously, find a better thing to do than complain, Flash. We’ve got bigger fish to fry than blaming each other.”

“Each other? I didn’t do anything! This was all you!” Barry spun on Hal and glared at him.

They glowered at each other when a clicking sound echoed above them and they both jumped a foot in the air, spinning back-to-back as they looked around in every direction, up and down and side to side.

“What the hell was that?” Hal worried.

“I don’t know,” Barry replied, just as concerned. “It sounded like clacking.”

“That did not sound like a chicken.”

“Clacking, Hal, not clucking.”

“Same thing,” he retorted, lifting his arm in the air, shining a bright green light amongst the glowing red treetops. A bunch of branches, neon red leaves and purple flowers, a darting limb—a darting limb?

Hal shifted the light back, jolting Barry’s shoulder in the process. “What is it?”

“There’s something above us,” he whispered, watching with cautious eyes as something shifted on the main branch of the tree, the outline of a dark head coming out, just enough to catch the edge of their bright gold eye. “It’s watching us.”

The something shifted back into cover, the clacking sounding once more, then the treetop ruffled, dropping red and purple fauna on the two men as it jumped to another tree. Hal tried to follow it, but it was too fast for his eyes; the only thing it left behind though was a string of long white webbing, hanging down from the blue tree branch. And Hal being the idiot he was, decided to touch it to see if he could figure out what it was, and only managed to get it all over his hands.

He pouted, trying to pull apart his hands. “It’s sticky.”

Barry let out a long and heavy sigh, placing one hand at the small of his best friend’s back, the other holding the machete. “Come on, dumb-dumb. Let’s go find that thing again.”

“Isn’t that the opposite of how the survivors live? I know we’re white, but I didn’t think we were that white.” He was half tempted to see if he could gnaw the webbing with his teeth. “This shit isn’t coming off.”

“Here,” Barry said, vibrating his hand as fast as he could and to Hal’s surprise, the webbing cut, falling to the ground.

“Thanks!” he chirped, holding his arm out again to shine his ring. “What do you think that thing was?”

“Alien lifeform.”

“No shit, Sherlock. What gave it away? The alien world?”

“I’ve just about had it with you,” Barry growled, cutting through another rough patch of vines. As the path cleared, they stepped out of the heavily forested area to see one older tree in the center of the circle. It rested atop what looked like an ancient cave, the rocks crumbling around the front.

“I’m not going in there,” Hal immediately stated. “You couldn’t pay me all the money the US owes in debt to go in there. Fuck that.”

“You’re such a big baby,” Barry chuckled, walking up to the entrance; it was about the twelve feet high and ten feet wide, big enough for the two of them to walk in. “Come on. It went in here.”

“Barry, please! Why aren’t you more worried about this?” Hal begged. “You should be more worried!”

“Hal, if it wanted to hurt us, it would’ve done so already.”

“Or maybe it’s luring us to our deaths!” he countered, even though he was following Barry into the cave.

There was more webbing along the walls of the cave, swirling around patterns of purple and blue. The farther they walked the stickier it got, and at one point, they were struggling to lift their feet off the cave floor to take the next step.

“Christ, what is this stuff?” Hal asked and Barry bent down, poking at the webbing.

“It’s like spider webbing, but stickier and stronger.” He vibrated his hand to dislodge it from the strings, then did it around Hal’s feet. “You might wanna float for now. I’ll vibrate my feet to keep from sticking.”

“Good idea,” Hal agreed, lifting a few inches off the ground. “Do you think the lifeform is intelligent?”

“Intelligent us or just intelligent?”

“Intelligent us.”

“Anything’s possible. It seemed sentient so I believe it’s probably intelligent.”

“What do you define as intelligent, Barry?” Hal questioned and the forensic scientist hummed.

“If it’s capable of calculus it’s intelligent.”

“Really? If it can do math homework you think it’s worthy?”

“Calculus is a difficult skill. You need the ability to think and to calculate in order to solve and understand it. That requires sentience and intellige—oh shit!” Barry’s words tipped into a yelp as the ground gave way beneath him and he sunk down, shouting all the way.

Hal’s eyes shot wide, and he flew down the hole. “Barry!” he yelled. “Barry where are—oof!” he collided with more of the webbing, this time enough that the entire left side of his body was stuck to it.

“Hal! You okay!”

He looked over, seeing Barry stuck on his back. “I’m okay? You!”

Barry nodded. “I’ve been better. What is this?” they looked around the best they could. Spiral upon spiral of iridescent webbings surrounded them, stuck to the walls for support, them in the center.

Hal’s eyes narrowed and he glowered at Barry. “I fucking told you it was luring us here.”

“Shut u—”

The clacking sounded above them and with panic, they both turned their eyes to the ceiling, watching as the alien lowered down near them. It looked like a human, two arms and two legs, no extra limbs at all. Hell, it didn’t even look like an alien spider; it just looked like a normal human, gazing down at them with two normal eyes. That was until it opened all six of its golden eyes and stared down at them with it’s mouth open, two one-inch fangs protruding from where the canines were.

“Ohshitohshitohshit,” Hal whispered, about to shit himself in terror.

The alien reached for Barry, and he watched as his friend sunk back into the webbing from the outstretched hand. Except he couldn’t go any farther and turned his head to the side, quietly whimpering as the long black claws touched his cheek.

“Barry!” Hal hissed and blue eyes met his, then,

“Friends!” the alien shouted. “New friends for Rhiezheveir to have!”

Their expressions pinched in confusion as the being started to twirl in the air, one hand holding to the webbing they’d lowered down on, the other elegantly flowing in the air.

“You can understand us?” Barry wondered and they looked down.

“Yes!” leaning down, they got in his face, and he saw the rather feminine looking features. “Rhiezheveir saw the ship come in the sky and land! I waited until you left it to search! The ship’s memory functions in this language!” she seemed rather excited. “Rhiezheveir found the core you were looking for! I did not know how to get you here to return it!”

She climbed up the webbing, disappearing quickly only to reappear with the ship’s core under her free arm. “Here it is! Rhiezheveir brought it back!”

“Why do you keep saying that?” Hal inquired and she lowered down next to his face, hers right in front of his.

“Saying what?”

“Rhieza-something-reservoir?”

“Rhiezheveir?” she offered, and he nodded.

“Yeah, that.”

“Rhiezheveir is my name! I am named after the brightest star in the Kosialaran sky!”

“In the what sky?” Barry asked.

“Kosialaran!” she answered. “This planet’s name! My planet!”

“Are there more of you?” Hal questioned. “You’re the only intelligent life we’ve seen besides bloodthirsty beats trying to eat us.”

“Yes, I saw you fight with the Erqurcus. They are not nice lizards. They like to bite Rhiezheveir when she tries to feed them.”

“Why do you refer to yourself in the third person?” Barry piped up. “Sometimes you use first too.”

“In Aissaveed culture, we commonly refer to ourselves in the third, though I learned from watching, that humans use first. Rhiezheveir is learning to mix them.” She smiled and the clacking sounded again.

Hal tried to look at her. “What is that noise?”

Bending down to his face again, she flashed her fangs. “They click when I get excited!”

Barry cleared his throat. “Um, Rhiezheveir, are there more of your kind in the area?”

“Not here. On the other side of the planet there is. Rhiezheveir has travelled far to get away from her people’s hunters. They do not like me.”

“How come?”

“Rhiezheveir broke tradition. Refused to be royal consort. Fled and hid here.” She let the tips of her toes touch the delicate silk webbing and then crouched, the web bouncing lightly with the weight. “Rhiezheveir is not welcome amongst her people anymore. I am alone now.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you,” Barry murmured, even empathetical of the alien. “You’re here all alone?”

“Yes! Though not anymore!” she patted both Hal and Barry’s thighs. “New friends!”

Hal wiggled. “I hate to break it to you, Reservoir, but—”

“Rhiezheveir,” she corrected, and he sighed.

“Rhiezheveir. But we have to get back to our own planet. We have responsibilities.”

Barry nodded. “We need to get back to our ship.” he tugged against the webbing. “Can you help us get out of this? We’re stuck.”

“Of course!” she chirped, starting to snip the webbing with her claws.

“Wait a second!” Hal exclaimed. “There’s nothing underneath meAHHHHH!” the last thread snapped, and Hal tumbled down the dark and dimly lit cavern.

“Rhiezheveir!” Barry yelled. “What are you doing!”

She held up a finger in a wait motion, then a wet plop sounded, followed by, “NEVERMIND! I’M OKAY! THIS WATER SMELLS FUNNY THOUGH!”

The Speedster sighed. “Oh, there’s water down there.”

She looked at Barry oddly. “Rhiezheveir would not try to kill her new friends. That is not nice.” Snipping the lines around him, she held on as he fell and she let out a squeal as they dropped, though as Barry hit the water, she merely held on to the web in her hand, just above the body.

Barry broke the water and spit out the remaining in his mouth. “Water tastes funny too.”

Hal rolled his eyes. “Rhiezheveir, how do we get out of here?”

She smiled. “Follow me!” she shot out her free hand and another string of webbing left her hand, attaching to the roof of the cavern; letting go with her other hand, she swung like a monkey on a vine, then repeated the process, alternating her hands. And boy she was fast. Barry and Hal had to freehand like they were in the Olympics to keep up, and even then, it wasn’t fast enough.

***

By the time they made it back to the ship, their hair and clothes had dried off. They noticed that she didn’t like to be on the ground and crawled along the tree limbs above them. Bioluminescent flower petals shook from the branches every time she moved, creating an aura of beautiful red and purple around them.

Barry took the battery from her and slot it back into place, watching as they ship powered back to life; he walked over to Hal who was sitting in the first seat. “Everything good?”

Hal nodded. “A few nicks here and there, but the engine and all other vital systems are good.” He looked up. “We should be good to go once the power levels reach operational.”

The Speedster smiled and turned to her. “Well, Rhiezheveir, this is goodbye.”

She merely blinked. “What do you mean goodbye? I am coming with you.”

“There’s not enough room,” Hal said, and she smiled, those fangs clacking as she raised her arms.

“I will make myself small!” her dark body illuminated in a bright gold, then the shape began to shrink and shift, eight long legs appearing out of the main shape that had evolved into two orb like shapes. When the glow dispersed, she raised her front legs and waved, then skittered up Barry’s leg and body to his head.

“I have a spider on my head.” He said dumbly. “I have an alien spider nuzzling my hair.” Barry looked at Hal. “There’s a spider in my hair.”

Hal shrugged. “So long as it stays on you, we’re good.” He peered at her. “Rhiezheveir, can you understand us in there?”

She waved her front legs as Barry climbed into the ship, sitting on his seat; she scurried down his head to his shoulder and sat there, perfectly balanced, her beady golden eyes occasionally blinking.

“That’s a big ass spider,” Hal noted.

“She reminds me of a Goliath birdeater.”

“A what now?”

“Goliath birdeater. It’s the biggest spider on earth.” He examined her. “But her legs are so long…like a huntsman spiders’. I wonder if she’s got the abilities of different species?”

Barry reached up, holding out his hand and she climbed on it, letting him lower her to his lap. “Can you sit there while we take off, Rhiezheveir? Once were out of atmosphere, you can wander around the cockpit.”

All she merely did was raise her front legs and wave them once more before settling on his thighs, curling her legs in contently; he smiled down at her, then the realization of what bringing her meant and he blurted out, “I have no idea how we’re going to explain this to the others.”

“What do you mean?” Hal questioned.

Barry looked at him. “The crash land will be easy—you’re an idiot.” He ignored Hal’s outcry of offense and gestured to her. “How do we explain we picked up a shapeshifting spider…lady?”

Hal shrugged. “Hostile environment navigated by a peaceful intelligent lifeform who managed to be a stowaway?”

“I like the first half up until ‘who’.” Barry met his gaze. “She was threatened by her own people and begged to help her flee?”

The pilot pursed his lips. “We’ll need to use her reasoning for leaving. The whole royal consort business.”

“Sounds good.” Barry glanced down at her. “Rhiezheveir, does that sound—oh…I think she’s asleep.”

Hal looked down to Barry’s lap and sure enough, the hand-sized spider wasn’t moving on his legs other than the occasional leg twitch. “Sure she didn’t die?”

“Hal!” Barry hissed. “Don’t be mean!” he gently scratched her the top of her abdomen with his pointer finger.

“You’ve pack-bonded with a spider,” Hal noted. “Nice job, buddy.”

“Oh, come on. Like you don’t find her friendly.”

“She’s a spider.”

“She’s an alien who turns into a spider.” He watched the planet get smaller and smaller as they exited the orbit and into the stars. “Bruce isn’t going to be happy that we brought an alien back.”

“I think the pressing matter is that we have no idea what she eats.”

“Bugs?”

“You said she was an alien who turns into a spider, Bar. What’s she going to eat when she’s human…like?”

“Meat?” Barry wiggled his fingers in Hal’s side. “Man-flesh.”

Hal choked on a laugh, batting at the hand against his ribs. “Stop that.” He steered the ship through a debrief field with ease. “We’d better figure out or she’ll eat somebody in the middle of a fight.”

“In a fight?” Barry asked.

Hal shot him a look. “We didn’t take this Lady Spider with us just to get her off her home-world. She’s gonna help out somewhere.” He shrugged. “Might as well stick her in the Justice League.”

Barry’s lips pulled satisfactory. “That’s…actually a good idea.” He smiled. “I can’t wait to show her to Bruce. You know he doesn’t like spiders?”

“He’s scared of spiders?”

“I didn’t say he was scared of them, Hal. He just doesn’t like them. I think creepy crawlies make his skin crawl.”

Hal shoved him in the arm. “Don’t call her creepy crawly. She’s a pretty spider.”

“What happened to making fun of her?” Barry smirked. “You pack-bonded with the pretty alien spider lady, didn’t you?”

“Shut up,” Hal griped, going still when she shifted and crawled up the dash of the ship and stared out the window; she turned, waving her front legs. “Yeah Rhiezheveir? What is it?”

She pointed to the stars, drawing her front legs in downward arcs as if to say, “Wow!”

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Barry murmured and she did it again; he looked curiously at her. “Hey Rhiezheveir, you can understand us, right?”

She waved.

“Okay. Since you can’t talk to us until we get back, how about this—front legs up is ‘yes’ and front legs down is ‘no’. Do you understand?”

She lifted her legs up and he grinned.

“Good. Now, do you like warm places?”

Her legs went up, then down.

“Sort of?”

Up.

“You like warm and cool weather?”

Up.

“We’re going back to our world. There’re many habitats there. Some really hot and really cold. Others are in the middle.” He explained, watching her almost nod. “We’ll be meeting the group Hal and I work with on another ship. You’ll have to stay there for the time being. Is that okay?”

She lifted her legs up.

Hal leaned over. “Rhiezheveir, are you a spider that sometimes turns into a lady?”

Her legs stayed down.

“So, you’re a lady that sometimes turns into a spider?”

Up.

“Nice. Can you fight?”

Up and waving wildly.

Barry looked at Hal then back to her. “You said you refused the position of royal consort. Were you chosen because you could fight?”

Up.

“So, you escaped because you didn’t want to be forced into that position?”

Still up.

Barry nodded solemnly. “Rest assured, Rhiezheveir, you won’t be forced into anything like that on Earth. You’ll be free and able to live openly and not in hiding.”

Her legs stilled in the air, then the curled and Hal muttered, “I think you overwhelmed her emotionally.”

The Speedster cupped the spider in his hands, letting her crawl back into his lap. “Sorry, Rhiezheveir. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

She merely snuggled into his lap and stayed there.

“Rhiezheveir,” Hal started. “Your name is really complicated for humans to say. While I think it would be a good identity for a superhero life, I think you should find an easier name for people to use.”

She waved a single leg, signaling she was listening.

“How about (Y/N)?”

Barry smiled. “Ooo, I like (Y/N). That’s a pretty name.”

She raised her front legs and waved them excitedly.

“I think Rhiezheveir likes it too.” He scratched her torso. “Welcome to the Justice League (Y/N). You’re gonna fit in perfectly.”

(Y/N) waved her front legs, rearing up on her back.

“HOLY FUCK LOOK AT THE SIZE OF HER FANGS!” Hal shouted.

[husbandomail-archive]

shaving cream

Jade + Floyd/fem reader

in which they help you bathe

I’d call this a hesitant T rating

The water may have gotten cold by now, but it did nothing to combat the fierce heat that raced across your skin, electricity tingling up and down your spine as you shifted nervously.

A set of sharp teeth came down on your bare shoulder, just grazing against your flushed, dewy skin as Jade’s arms tightened around your waist. “Don’t squirm,” he crooned, “Wouldn’t want Floyd to slip now, would we?”

You didn’t trust your voice at this point, so all you could do was nod.

From his spot farther down in the bathtub, Floyd grinned up at you; with the way his fangs gleamed in the light reflected off the water, it was impossible to forget that you had a beast settling between your legs.

Both boys remained fully clothed, unbothered by the way the water splashed and soaked through their uniforms, the thick cloth sticking to their skin in all sorts of ways, their white uniform shirts so see-through that you couldn’t look at them. They’d wasted no time with you, though— Jade had been careful and methodical about stripping you of your uniform before lowering you into the bath, but Floyd had practically torn parts of your clothes off and flung them to the farthest corners of the room, no regard for where they landed as long as they were far away. You’d probably never see those panties again.

Floyd sunk his teeth into the tips of his glove and dragged it off his hand, his eyes trained on your face, watching the way your lips trembled and your own gaze faltered. Once there was no offending fabric in the way, he was quick to grab your thigh, tracing his hand up and down and marveling at how your soft skin managed to turn an even deeper red under his touch. 

“Humans are fragile, aren’t they,” he hummed against the fullness of your thighs, seeming mesmerized by the size difference between you all; when you tensed, he flashed his teeth again with another low laugh that rumbled across your skin until goosebumps appeared. And then you slammed your legs shut around his ears and he yelped. “Ow, you little Shrimp—”

Jade pulled away from where he’d been lathing his tongue across the bites on your shoulder. “Don’t scare the darling,” he said, although the lilt to his voice told you that he was having fun too. “We promised to take care of her, after all.”

Floyd let out a heavy sigh but nodded. “Fine—” he muttered. His large hands landed on your thighs again, and with no effort at all, he tossed both of your legs over his broad shoulders. You squeaked as he dragged you farther down in the water, the rough fabric of Jade’s damp uniform making your back itch as you squirmed in precisely the way he’d told you not to.

“Dunno why humans care so much about things like this,” Floyd grumbled.

Jade pulled one arm from around your waist, reaching for where he’d lined up everything needed for your bath; when he passed his brother the razor, you gulped. Neither of these boys should be trusted with sharp things—

“Don’t look at me like that,” Floyd whined, “I ain’t gonna hurt’cha.” He pouted down at you, a well-practiced bat of the eyes and comically-forced frown. He popped the guard off your cheap disposable razor and stared at the blade for a moment before letting his eyes roam over your bare legs. “Now— tell me how this thing works.”

“You’re supposed to start with this,” Jade said, his gloved hand wrapped around the bright pink can of your favorite shaving cream. Floyd flipped his free hand out of the water, palm-up, and Jade pressed the button on the can; the scented foam bubbled out into Floyd’s hand, and his eyes widened like a cat that’s just spotted a toy.

And then he slapped his open hand to your thigh, giggling when you squeaked, your thighs tightening around him yet again and sending water splashing over the edge of the tub. “You guys sure have some weird stuff,” he hummed as he ran his hand up and down your leg, lathering the foam and watching it get thicker across your skin.

While Floyd was hypnotized by your legs, Jade had reached for your shampoo. Behind you, he clicked the cap open and poured a generous amount into his still-gloved hand; his fingers curled into your damp hair at the same moment Floyd finally brought the razor to your soft skin, and you were almost convinced that you’d melt.

Jade is clearly not used to touching people— not gently, anyways. His first few drags through your hair are rough enough that you wince at the sting, strands tangled around his fingers and snapping as he raked his hands across your scalp. Floyd glanced up from the messy lines he’d shaved across your thigh just in time to watch your face twist uncomfortably.

“Cut it out, yer hurtin’ her—”

The hands in your hair stopped instantly. Jade leaned down to nuzzle his face against yours. “Apologies,” he muttered, “let’s try that again.” There was a quick rustle of cloth, and from the corner of your eye you saw Jade’s gloves go flying across the room, probably joining your missing panties in the void.

His hands started across your scalp again, much gentler this time. It took him some time to get a rhythm down, massaging your shampoo into your hair and then ruffling you a bit, seeming to enjoy the way you giggled at the foamy bubbles that drifted off your head. You leaned your head back against his shoulder and shut your eyes to focus on the feeling. 

Floyd was never one to be ignored; when you grinned for his brother, that familiar spark of jealous flew through his veins, and he turned his eyes back to your legs, his grip tightening on your calf over his shoulder and holding you still. He may not understand why you needed your legs shaved, but he wasn’t going to let his brother show him up when they’ve got you pinned between them.

He pressed the razor to your skin again, firmly enough to draw your attention, but not enough to cut you deeply. He dragged it down your leg, completely absorbed in his task, his warm breath rolling across your chilled body and dragging your mind out of the water once more. After every few strokes, he’d bring his face forward, nuzzling against your thigh and marveling again at how soft your skin really was; this might be some weird human ritual, but he can appreciate it.

When your eyes fluttered back open, his half-lidded gaze immediately met your own. Dark eyes, strong hands, sharp teeth— these men were monsters, and they’re holding you gently.

You shuddered again. Floyd’s eyes wandered away from yours, meeting Jade’s line of sight over your shoulder.

“The water’s probably colder than you’d enjoy now,” the boy behind you said quietly, his voice rumbling through his chest as you continued to lean against him. Truth be told, you hadn’t noticed— as long as their hands were all over you, every inch of your body felt like it was on fire. “We’ll finish this quickly then.”

Jade’s rough hand landed tightly over your eyes, blocking out all light, and you tensed nervously; he noticed, and an amused huff rolled across your wet shoulders. Then you heard the familiar hiss of the detachable showerhead as he dragged it closer. You relaxed in his arms again as he clicked the water on— it was set to warm, and as it dripped through your hair, dragging suds with it and washing over your body, you realized that you really had gotten cold in the bathwater.

With your eyes covered, Floyd picked up the pace too, carelessly dropping the razor over the edge of the tub so he could scoop water into his hands. He splashed loudly as he dumped it across your legs, followed by a pass of his hands over your newly-wet skin to wash away the remains of shaving cream— and to get another feel of you, because he couldn’t seem to get enough.

“Grab that over there,” you felt Jade nod his head towards something.

“Oh, it’s different from ours,” was Floyd’s muffled reply.

“Get it out of your mouth—”

Floyd scoffed, but apparently stopped chewing on whatever he’d grabbed. As Jade passed his free hand through your hair to continue untangling it and dragging out the remaining shampoo, Floyd’s hands finally wandered past your hips and up the rest of your body.

His touch was a lot slicker than it had been on your legs, and for a brief moment you wondered if he’d quietly transformed, and how the entire length of his tail could fit in a tub that barely held his human self— but then he traced patterns across your stomach, giggling to himself as a new wave of bubbles began lathering across your skin, a familiar scent drifting to your nose, and you realized he’d grabbed the soap.

“Pass it to me now,” Jade said as he finally pulled his hand away from your eyes, leaving you blinking as you readjusted to the bathroom’s bright lights. Floyd held the bar of soap just out of his brother’s reach, and Jade had to lean forward to snatch it, jostling you through the water until you laughed. Since he was behind you, you didn’t get to see the way his gaze softened.

“Almost done, we promise.”

Not that you minded. Staying here forever wouldn’t be too bad.

Floyd continued tracing his hands in patterns across every part of you that he could reach, and it wasn’t long before Jade’s hands landed on your body too, much more methodical in their approach. His hands swiped past your chest until you squirmed against him; Floyd’s hands returned to your hips, and he drew his name across your hipbones with his fingertips until you laughed.

Finally the showerhead came down again, washing all the soap off your body and into the long-cold bathwater. Floyd was the unwilling first out, purely because he was the one on top; he snatched one of your fluffy towels off the rack as Jade helped you stand, trembling as the cold air hit your wet skin.

With your towel in his hands, Floyd threw his arms open for a hug. Jade shoved you forward just enough that you nearly tripped over the edge of the bath, toppling right into Floyd’s waiting arms as he bundled you in the warm fluffy cloth and held you close to his chest, his sopping wet uniform be damned.

“Shrimpy’s clean, Shrimpy’s clean!” he sang happily, hoisting you off your feet and spinning until you squealed. He held you as easily as a doll; you, content to be wrapped up like a burrito, simply nuzzled farther into the towel and up against his chest. A yawn snuck up on you— at least for tonight, you felt safe with them.

Jade paused where he was finally stripping out of his own clothes, dropping them in a pile on the bathroom’s cold tile floor. He glanced over his shoulder to where you were starting to doze off in his brother’s arms.

“Don’t fall asleep yet, doll,” he said, flashing his teeth. “We’re not done with you yet.”

[bridgyrose]

"You're a bad influence." "Isn't that why you love me?

Blake sighed as she started to wrap up Emerald’s leg. “You know you’re a bad influence, right?” 

“Isnt that why you love me?” Emerald asked with a smirk. “Besides, its not like we got into any real trouble.” 

“That doesnt take away from the fact that I asked you to leave Weiss out of this.” 

“She didnt get in trouble.” 

“That’s not the point.” Blake tightened up the bandage around Emerald’s leg and looked behind her at the flashing blue and red lights a few blocks down. “She and I are training to be huntresses now and bringing her along for these kinds of jobs is… risky. If you and I are caught, we know we can get away. Weiss though…” 

“She’s the one who asked to tag along and you know she cant back away from getting a taste of what we do.” Emerald slowly stood up and put a little weight on her bandaged leg and winced. “Besides, anything to help her get back at her father, right?” 

“Again, not the point.” 

“Then what is your point? Because all I see is someone who’s gone soft.” 

Blake sat down and pulled out her cracked White Fang mask, her fingers gently squeezed the edges as she looked up at the night sky. Once again, she was starting to find herself torn between who she was and what she wanted to get away from. “I’m not soft.” 

“You left the White Fang because you couldnt handle what they were doing.” Emerald sat down next to Blake and watched as the cops started to pull away from the still smoking docks. “Yet, here you are, still causing trouble for the SDC. And when Weiss found out, she didnt condemn you, she wanted to join you. She’s had a taste at fighting back against what’s been holding her down, why is it so hard for you to accept that maybe this is who she really is?” 

“Because I cant be the one to ruin her life!” Blake closed her hand around her mask and crushed it. “Just a month ago, she didnt trust me for being a faunus. And now we nearly got her killed when everything went wrong. What happens next time if she ends up getting caught? She’ll lose everything.” 

“And she’s just a Schnee.” Emerald stood up and grinned as she started to climb down the building. “Why do you care if a Schnee finally gets punished? Her family’s company is running faunus into the ground, street rats like me get whisked away and never seen again on a daily basis, and you care if a Schnee gets punished? Like you said, she didnt trust you a month ago, what makes you think she’s changed? If anything, we’d be doing the world a favor.” 

Blake rolled her eyes and started to follow Emerald down the building. “And you know better than anyone else that we’ll ruin her life if we keep her with us.” 

“Then it sounds like you have a choice to make.” 

“I’m not choosing between you and her.” 

“Its not a choice between me and a Schnee. Its a choice between being yourself, or a traitor to everything you stand for. You want to be a huntress and stick with her? I wont stop you. But do you really think your team is ever going to truly understand you like I do? What you’ve gone through or what you want?” 

Blake sighed as she watched Emerald bring out her claws and quickly retract them. “You know this isnt right.” 

“What isnt “right” is how you hold to that Schnee like her pet.” Emerald started to walk off and paused for a moment as she looked back at Blake. “You can have her and your team, or you can come with me and make a real difference. You cant have both.” 

Blake let out a sigh and watched as Emerald disappeared into the night. She slowly pulled out her scroll as she heard it chime with a text from Ruby and Yang. Once she read the message asking if she was okay, she turned off her scroll and threw it into the middle of the street and followed after Emerald, hoping her team would understand. 

[sockendrache]

Egg

Inspired by my own dissatisfaction that Kyle didn’t get a Monstie and @magicallynormal ‘s idea of Kyle’s Monstie being a Tobi-Kadachi, I wrote this little ff in like 2 hours because I had nothing better to do

I wanted the Rider to stay gender-neutral but it just sounds like Kyle never bothered to ask them for their name-

___________________

“This is a terrible idea.”

“You should’ve thought about it before we left Kuan, then.”

Without sparing Kyle another glance, the Rider entered the Monster’s nesting-area without any hesitation showing on their face; Ratha close behind them. From within the depths of the cave, the Hunter could hear distant roars and predatory clicks; instinctively, he straightens his back, hand hovering over his bow.

The Rider, kneeling besides the huge nest, doesn’t seem bothered by the sounds at all; way too busy examining the brightly colored eggs.

Off to the sides, Kyle spots various piles of worn-down bones, all sporting teeth-marks and scratches, some entirely broken open. Along with a few stray chunks of flesh, almost blending into the ground of the den. They don’t look very fresh; probably a few days old already. His instincts tell Kyle to quickly gather up a few samples of whatever he can get his hands on, maybe let his scoutflies out to take in the scents; then leave the den as quickly and quietly as possible. Not taking anything valuable with him, not disturbing the Monster’s home in any way.

Though... the weight of the kinship-stone, strapped to his left hand, reminds him of the reason for this “expedition”.

He’s not here to take samples for the ever-curious Research Center, nor to track down a Monster. He’s not here to deliver chunks of flesh or eggs.... however, maybe he should just imagine he’s here for a delivery-quest. Maybe that would help calm his poor nerves, still absolutely shot to hell.

Kyle, who was born and raised a Hunter, who knows nothing else; he’s here to get his first Monstie.

It’s absolutely unheard of. A Hunter, whose sole purpose is to hunt these beasts down –maybe capturing them after tiring them out in battle, if the quest calls for it- is about to form a bond with one of these creatures, who he spent years of his life learning the weaknesses of, training to take down beasts several times his size.

Kyle takes a strained breath, his mouth suddenly feeling dry. Over their shoulder, the Rider shoots him a look; their eyes warm, their glance almost comforting.

“Come closer.”, they calmly say, gesturing with their hand towards the nest.

Feeling drastically out of his element, Kyle follows the command; takes a few brave steps towards the nest and promptly freezes up again.

He knows the process of this; hell, he’s already lost track of how often he stood guard while his new Rider-friend sifted through a Monster’s nest. He knew how to hold Wyvern-eggs, how damn heavy these things were and how stupid you looked while carrying one. He knew how these things were goddamn predator-magnets, and how easily they broke.

That, perhaps, was one of the things that frightened Kyle the most about this whole situation.

How often had he accidentally broken an egg while out on a transporting-quest? How often had he washed the yolk and slimy egg-whites off his armor in a nearby stream, before tracking his way back to the nest to pick up a new egg? And how often had he not wasted a single thought on it...?

It’s just eggs, he used to think. Eggs that he’ll bring to the canteen after returning to the base, eggs that he’ll probably eat sooner or later before leaving the base again, set out on yet another quest.

And yet, here he was. Standing at a Monster’s nest, containing eggs that he, before he met the Riders, used to scoop up without thinking about it twice. His muscles feel stiff beneath his armor, his throat scratchy and dry; what if he broke this egg too?

“Kyle?”, the Rider’s calm voice rips him out of his violently spinning thoughts. “You okay?”

Was he okay? Good question; if only Kyle knew the answer.

“I... I don’t think I can do this.”, he mutters, hating how small his voice is sounding. Cold fingers brush over his kinship-stone; a gift from the Rider. Apparently, it once belonged to them- before this Wyverian girl gave them their grandfather’s kinship-stone.  “I mean- if I should do this. I’m- I’m a Hunter, we don’t just.... ride Monsters.”

They, like so often, only shake their head the slightest bit. And calmly, they reach for Kyle’s hand.

“Then why does Ratha love you so much?”

Almost as if on command, a big, scaly head bumps into his back; Ratha’s idea of a hug. After having spent a little time on Hakolo-island, it was almost frightening to see how.... human Monsters -or Monsties, as Kyle learned they were called- could be. He’s seen Ratha pick up on emotions, display human-like behavior; and not just on him. The Rider loved to point out the Monster’s behaviors whenever they took on a quest together, and as someone who’s spent his whole life learning about Monsters, it felt so entirely.... different, watching their behavior in packs, or see something as innocently as an Azuros teaching its cubs how to fish.  

It felt almost unreal.

As a Hunter, most, if not all of his hunting-quests were targeting Monsters wrecking havoc; and when he’s out collecting ingredients or samples, he rarely ever got the chance of seeing Monsters in their natural habitat. And admittedly... seeing these beasts; even the ones that were known for their hostile behavior, completely unbothered by his presence... it shook something deep inside Kyle’s core.

Gently, cold fingers intertwine with his; pulling him down to kneel next to the Rider. Kyle peers over the edge of the massive nest; its inside carefully laid out with tufts of fur and moss. It’s like a giant bird-nest, the Monster clearly having put a lot of work into the making of it. Upon closer inspection of the fur, Kyle has a vague idea of whose nest he’s sitting at right now; though, following the Rider around, he quickly learned that there’s often a few “imposter”-eggs in a nest, smuggled in by Monsters not bothering to care for their young one hatched.

The silence feels tense; so, Kyle attempts to ease it a little.

“Why didn’t Navirou come along? Wouldn’t he be of help, sniffing out a good egg?”

Quietly, the Rider shook their head, giving Kyle an almost apologetic smile. They weren’t a big fan of words; he quickly caught up on that. However, this look didn’t need any words; after all, Kyle did tag along to a few egg-hunts before, watching from the sidelines as Navirou ushered them out of the den, barely giving the Rider enough time to get a good grip on the newly acquired egg. It’s not like Kyle had anything against the Felyne personally; but he had to admit that he was glad he wouldn’t have to rush through this process, only to prevent Navirou from having a Monster-induced heart-attack.

After all, he had a feeling that time would be an important factor in picking out his first Monstie.

With a huff, the Rider pushes themselves up, gently pulling Kyle with them as they step into the nest. Twigs crunch under his weight as he kneels down, getting onto the same level as the eggs.

The Rider placed their hand on Kyle’s shoulder; he’d lie if he tried to tell anyone that it wasn’t comforting. “Just pick the egg you have a connection to. Good smell or not, doesn’t matter. Don’t tell Navi I said that, though.”

The instructions are clear, yet awfully vague; and Kyle can’t help but note how it’s one of the longest sentences he’s ever heard from them. “Take your time, but.... not too much. Before an angry Mama Monster sees us.”

“....sounds reasonable.”

As he looks over each of the large eggs, most of them brown in color with yellow-ish ovals on the shell, he notices the odd one out. Between the egg of an herbivore, if he recalled correctly, laid a pale blue egg, the shell littered with dark blue, almost black zigzags.

Apparently, his gaze lingered a little too long on the lone Wyern-egg, as evident by the look the Rider gave him.

“That one?”, they asked, gingerly reaching out to guide Kyle’s hand towards the egg. Despite the cold air having slowly numbed his fingers, the egg’s surprisingly smooth texture is one of the first things that he notices. At first glance, it’s just like any other Wyvern-egg he’s transported before; and yet, in the back of Kyle’s mind, there was something.... else to this egg.

As if he could feel the Monster calling out to him from within its protective shell, only waiting for a Rider to bestow it their blessings and allow it to awaken into this world.

“I- ….is this normal?”

His fingers now shivering, he places his entire hand on the egg, frightened yet amazed how small his hand is compared to the massive egg. The Rider gives him a look that Kyle can’t quite place.

“I feel like-... this little guy wants to come out...?”

Before he knows it, Kyle is protectively clutching the egg to his chest; holding onto it just a little tighter than onto the ones during his transport-quests. The Rider and Ratha lead the way out of the Monster’s den, practically shielding him from the hungry eyes of the predators waiting in their path.

On the flight back to Kuan, Kyle could swear that his kinship-stone was pulsating with life.

__________________________________

“....is this really necessary?”

Back in the village, their first stop was the stables. And under the watchful eye of the Felyne running the stables, Rider and Hunter were preparing to hatch the little Monstie.

The egg –a pulsing fanged Wyvern, as Kyle now knew- was placed in a little nest, and Kyle could think it was staring at him from beneath the shell.

The Rider doesn’t bother answering, instead handing him a stick, with which they –to Kyle’s horror- performed something apparently referred to as “Dance of the tribe”, a ritual meant to pray for a healthy Monstie to hatch from an egg. Though, Kyle wasn’t entirely sure if they were just fucking with him, or if it was a legit ritual back on Hakolo-island.

Though, he doubted he’d have time to fly back to Mahana-village and ask the chief for confirmation before his Monstie hatched, and... something told him that he didn’t want to miss this.

And so, with the utmost raise of his eyebrow Kyle could possibly muster, he gingerly reached for the stick.

_________________________________________

By the time he was done, his face bright red and radiating more warmth than the oven inside his house, the egg hadn’t budged. Other than the soft cackle of the fire and Kyle’s tense breathing, the stables were silent, everyone’s eyes fixed on the egg... before suddenly, it shuddered with life.

Kyle, utterly overwhelmed with the situation, could only stare helplessly as the egg started to crack, pieces of the shell starting to fall off and revealing tiny spots of blue fur. Though, the Rider is quick to help; promptly instructing him to hold his kinship-stone towards the egg.

“To help it hatch,” they explained, their eyes practically glazed over with excitement. But hell, in comparison to Kyle, that was nothing. There might have even been tears in his eyes, he didn’t know- not even if they were from excitement or fear.

His kinship-stone starts to glisten in a bright blue light; he’d probably be scared if he hadn’t seen this during his battles with the Rider. The shell continues to crack open, tiny pieces falling off, until the egg shattered with a burst of life, a shrieking roar piercing the tense atmosphere of the stables.

As Kyle is face to face with the little Monstie, his throat starts to tighten.

“A Tobi-Kadachi! What a fine little Meownster,” the Felyne purrs as the Monster looks up at Kyle with –surprisingly- innocent-looking eyes.

Instinctively, something in Kyle wants to reach for his bow- thank the sapphire-star he took it off after entering the village. A tingling heat starts to spread throughout his body; the first hints of adrenaline starting to pump into his blood stream. He’s reminded of the piercing roars of the adults he’s encountered during his hunts, of their bursts of electricity when they glide through the trees and pounce onto their prey.

A bead of sweat collects on his brow; and as always, the Rider seems to notice. Calmly, they appear at his side, taking his clammy hand into theirs and holding it out- that way, Kyle can clearly see how his fingers shake.

The tiny Monster curiously looks at his hand; and just like that, his eyes squeeze shut and Kyle finds himself praying that the little creature is more interested in sniffing him than chewing his fingers off- at least until he feels something soft press up into his palm.

Upon forcing his eyelids open, he sees this newborn Monster rub its unbelievably tiny head against his palm, the smallest chirps coming out of its throat, and the Rider- they carefully let go of his hand, grabbing a hold of the other one and guiding it towards the Monster-…. No, guiding it towards his Monstie and-

The Tobi-Kadachi, this freshly hatched creature; it outright jumps into his arms- a poor attempt at gliding, it seems, and just like that, Kyle’s instinct to reach for his bow is replaced by the instinct to catch the Monster and-

By the gleeful little churr it makes once its settled in Kyle’s arms, he promptly finds himself nuzzling his face into soft fur. Still utterly overwhelmed by the idea of this tiny creature being his Monstie, but as he looks into the Wyvern’s big eyes, so full of innocence and wonder, he suddenly feels very much like he- no, they can do this.

[tumbling-darkling]

Midnight Hang-Outs

This is a small crossover between Danny Phantom and DC! (Specifically Danny and Harley Quinn!) Following the prompts from Day 11 and 12 - Midnight and Scars (more of mentioned than revolving around it) Harley might be slightly ooc because I don’t read a lot of DC comics but maybe consider it more of like AU Harley Quinn. Mother hen. She feeds the vigilantes of Gotham on slow nights.

Harley glanced over to the boy sitting next to her on the rooftop of the Gotham Bank, she had been planning to break into it to draw out some fun with any nearby vigilantes but instead she had spotted the scrawniest looking glowing teen she’d ever seen. Well he was the only glowing teen she’d ever seen, but the poor kid was struggling against some freak in a white suit.

He had already devoured about 10 of the breakfast sandwiches she bought from a nearby 24 hour fast food joint, she couldn’t remember the name but her pal, Jeremy, always worked late shifts and gave her most of the grease filled wraps for free. Which she got a total of 20 and was beginning to worry that it wasn’t enough for this endless void. She thought she could calculate this kind of thing better based on Batsy’s kids, then again none of them had powers. That must be the factor throwing her off.

She glanced over him again, taking in his features for probably the hundredth time since she spotted him. White hair that gently wisped around his face like he was constantly underwater, pale blue-green skin with neon green freckles that sparkled like stars in the night, toxic green eyes that matched the freckles, flecks of blue hidden within the irises that shone in the right light. He hand pointed ears and little baby fangs, and his suit itself reminded her of the superheroes she’s faced before, but the material seemed all wrong when she got a closer look. It wasn’t spandex, or that thick armour like fibre that Batsy likes to use. She didn’t know what it was made out of. That flaming looking D was enough to hint at a superhero gig, like Superman and that ‘S’ on his chest. She didn’t care that it was supposed to be a symbol for hope, his name was Superman and that thing was an S, end of conversation.

The kid had taken off those gloves in order to eat, she didn’t blame him though, eating with gloves on was weird, and those white gloves would stain like a motherfucker. What caught her attention about it was the scars. Little one littered this kid's hands, and then there was a ligament scar coating his left hand. It was the brightest of all the scars, glowing slightly a wicked green as if he was still being electrocuted.

She turned her gaze back to the streets below, “So, what are you doing out this late?” She asked, avoiding sensitive topics like the scar. “It has to be way past midnight at this point.”

The kid glanced over to her, then shrugged, “had to chase Boxy all the way out here, the dude flies fast for a ghost obsessed in boxes.”

Harley glanced back over, noticing the kid now had finished the last of the sandwiches as he looked in the bag for more, shoving the garbage into it once he confirmed there was nothing left, “Boxy? Was that the freak in white?”

The kid shook his head, “nah, that was a government agent. G.I.W, or the Guys in White. Must’ve followed me, cornered me after I was already exhausted from chasing Boxy all over town. Boxy is the Box Ghost, blue ghost dude in overalls, fairly harmless but he can be a pain in the ass when he wants to be.”

“Want me to blow the rest of those agents up for you?” Harley asked, leaning closer while flashing a sinister grin.

The kid jerked back, “no! No it’s fine, just caught me off guard! I can handle them just fine, you don’t need to blow anyone up!” He squeaked out quickly, wildly waving his hands around. Harley couldn’t help but grin at the display, he reminded her a lot of Batsy’s kids. Energetic, good hearts (most of the time), think they can handle the world.

“So are you one of Batsy’s kids? Harley voiced her thoughts.

The kid blinked owlishly at her, “Batsy’s… you mean Batman? The Batman?”

Harley shrugged, “yeah, Batsy. He has quite a lot of them so I like to try and stay updated when he gets a new kid. You almost fit the bill, young teen, dark past, though the powers would be new.”

“How do you know I have a dark past?”

“Well, you said you were a ghost, right? Meaning you died and judging by your age, died before you even finished high school. I’d call that a dark past,” she kept out the lingering question of how he died, that wasn’t something you exactly ask someone when you first meet them. “So you aren’t one of Batsy’s kids?”

The kid shook his head, “nope,” he popped the p, “never even met the dark knight before. I barely visit Gotham, well anywhere if I can help it, I try to keep my problems in my home turf.”

“I see, you know what, I should’ve known better. Batsy would never let his kids run around this late anyway,” she hummed. “I did once see him chew a Robin out for fighting crime past his curfew, it got me arrested for sticking around to watch but boy was it worth it!” She laughed. She was surprised that Batman hadn’t gotten to this kid yet, anyhow. He didn’t always stick around Gotham ever since he joined that hero club, but that just meant that this dude had even more of a chance to find this kid. Must be dumb luck or something.

“Batman puts curfews on his sidekicks?” The kid asked, mouth agape.

“Well duh, the guy is all about the well-being of his kids. He has a no killing rule but he gets close to breaking it when one of his kids gets almost killed. He keeps them well fed, makes sure they sleep, I know because I can hear him from across rooftops at times and I fight enough of his kids to notice they aren’t skin and bones like you.”

The kid looked down at his ungloved hands, and she noticed him tracing the pattern of the ligament scar lightly with his other hand. His expression changed as he seemed to run through a series of thoughts before he spoke again, “why did you help me?” He asked, not looking up to meet her eyes, “you are a villain, right? You fight Batman and Robin, and other superheroes too if they face you. You know I’m not a villain, you said so yourself. So why help me? Wouldn’t it be better to just let a vigilante kid get knocked off so you don’t have to deal with him in future crimes?”

Harley felt her heart shatter, who the fuck hurt this kid like this? “I’m not some heartless bitch,” she said in a matter of fact tone, “you and all the teen sidekicks or vigilantes out there are still fucking kids. I have morals, and some villains don’t have the same morals as me, but seeing you getting kicked around by some freak in an alley where no one could see you? That kind of shit rubs me the wrong way. I fight teen heroes from time to time because I know they can handle it, they can fight back and I myself won’t stoop so low as to kill them if I manage to get in a few lucky hits.” She lightly nudged his shoulder, “and it’s not like you’ve personally wronged me or anything. I felt like being nice, helping out. You seem like a good kid, so why not help you out? Maybe one day I can call a favour and you can distract Bats while I kidnap the president?” She joked.

The kid looked up suddenly, sending his hair in rippling waves as he was giving her a wide eyed and the most worried look imaginable. She couldn’t help but let out another laugh, “I’m joking!” She clarified. “But I think we could have some pretty interesting game nights with Ivy. Not illegal game night, more like Uno or something. Maybe just a little gambling.”

The kid relaxed again, “well… uh… thanks. For helping me. And the food. And talking,” he rubbed the back of his neck, looking up at the sky.

“No problem, be sure to come visit again. Hey, maybe I can even introduce you to Bats at some point! Make a big show and pretend you are a villain and then BAM! Just kidding he’s just a glowing vigilante I helped out once!” She stood up, stretching her arms a little, “be sure to take it easy on your way to your home by the way, maybe take a nap or something on the way there.”

The kid nodded with a smile and stood up with her, then paused as shock filled his eyes and he spun quickly towards Harley, “Wait- how do you know I sleep-?”

Harley laughed, “well, I don’t think ghosts normally eat, so I’m assuming you sleep too,” she offered a soft smile, “just take it easy, and hey, if you ever find yourself in trouble.” Harley then pulled out a business card she usually kept for shits and giggles, handing over the poorly designed card to the kid, “know that you have a friend in Gotham who’s ready to help. And who knows how to get Batsy’s attention the fastest.” She winked.

The kid took the card, a confused grin tugging at his lips, “thanks. Hey, uh. I go by Phantom. Since I never really introduced myself.”

“Well Phantom, nice to meet you,” Harley grinned back.

[razorblade180-heated]

Too much

[It’s a smut]

It was a normal day at Beacon. Same old classes. Same old delicious lunches. Same old Blake. Well, not entirely. The girl had a problem, a snag if you will. She was currently on her bed in her school uniform, sulking more than she usually does. She patiently waited for the door to open. As she did, The words of Weiss Schnee replayed through her brain…

xxxxx

“YOU ARE DATING J-” The heiress’s mouth was covered quickly by Blake, who looked panicked.

“Ssssshhhh! What part of secret did you not understand!?” Blake said through her teeth, “we don’t want attention.”

Weiss swatted the hand away and whispered, “Sorry, but you should know better than to reveal truths out of the blue like that by now. This is crazier than the last one to be frank.”

Blake wasn’t too thrilled in Weiss’s choice of words in regards to White Fang secret, but now wasn’t the time to bicker. Blake needed her help. “Weiss, I’d like…advice. Also a bit of help.”

“Okay? On what exactly?” The concern in her voice was palpable.

Blake’s face grew a little red. She couldn’t believe she was doing this. “Any...any ideas to get a guy to sleep with you?”

Now it was Weiss’s turn to blush. “Just who do you-” she lowered her voice in consideration, “just who do you think I am!? Why are you coming to me for this!?”

“Yang gets too involved in people’s business and Ruby is...she’s Ruby! I love the girl but this is not the topic she can handle.”

Weiss looked Blake up and down. Why the girl needed help was beyond Weiss’s comprehension. It was shocking Blake wasn’t beating admires back with a stick! “How long have you been dating Jaune?” She asked.

“About...five months now? That sounds right.”

Weiss could not believe her ears. Five months, how has no one noticed!? How didn’t she notice? Then again, she did find it a bit out of character of Jaune when he stopped all of romantic efforts. Looks like this was the reason why. It might’ve been her ego talking but it stung a little to know a guy moved to the next letter in her team’s name. Would Yang have been next if Blake, hold on. A thought just occurred.

“Did you ask him out, or did he ask you?” Weiss was very curious about this

Blake blinked. That was an unexpected question. “Me, why”

“No reason.” Well that actually made Weiss feel a bit better. Not that she cared or anything! “Why do you need help with...that? I would think he’d be all over you. Can’t you, ya know? Drop hints?” A terrible expression hit Weiss. “Please tell me that dunce is ignoring basic signs?” She groaned. It would only make sense.

Blake must’ve agreed because she laughed a little. “Hehe, No Weiss, he isn’t.” Blake rubbed her head in embarrassment, “He’s well aware I’m down for sex. With all the neck kisses and body touches, the message is clear.” Blake saw Weiss’s face scrunch up. “What?” She said defensively.

“It’s unpleasant thinking about Jaune in anything less than his armor. You know that hoodie apparently has a rabbit on it, right?”

“Grow up, and that hoodie is fine. You walk around pretending to be taller than 4’11”

“I just like these shoes, and I’m five feet even when they’re off!” She proclaimed, “What is the matter then? Does he not find you physically- actually, don’t answer that.” Weiss didn’t need to know any physical reactions from Jaune. “Just tell me what typically happens as safely as possible.”

Blake took a deep sigh before speaking. “It’s usually the same song and dance. We go on dates, have a good time, find a place to get cozy, I start making moves, he starts building a little momentum, but then he stops.” Even with the bow on, Blake’s ears were clearly drooping. “He just apologies and says he can’t!”

Weiss raised a brow, “That’s it?”

“Yeah.” Blake nodded, “that’s the long and short of it.”

The problem sounded simple, and normal. Like… too normal. Weiss knew besides herself, Blake was the smartest on their team. Although not sociable, Blake could read a room better than Yang or Ruby. “Blake…” Weiss said, befuddled, “How is Jaune on these dates? Attitude wise, like is he nervous?”

“No, not really. We just talk and have fun. In the beginning we were both a little awkward but now we talk and act like we’ve known each other for a long time.”

Now Weiss was a little jealous at Jaune this time! Five months was all it took to get Blake chatting like an old friend!? The amount of groundwork Weiss and the terror sisters had to put in for Blake to even go out into town casually with them was at least two months' work! Now she’s over here trying to sleep with the guy, a thing nobody saw coming.

“I gotta say, this whole thing feels a little wild. To think five months of secrecy lead to this conversation? If he’s as calm you say then I can’t think of many reasons to panic. I mean I get someone having a little anxiety when giving up your first time, but I hear that’s mainly on the girl’s part. You’re all calm though.” Weiss said. She wasn’t expecting Blake’s eyes to shift away slightly, as if the girl was hiding something. “You are calm, right?”

“Huh? Yeah I’m totally calm” Blake clucked her tongue, “because...it’s not my first time.” Her body swayed back and forth out, trying to finish her sentence. “I’ve been in a couple relationships before this. Some good, some abysmal.”

Yet another surprise to add to the list. “Wait, you’re not a virgin?” Weiss couldn’t believe this. Who knew Blake surpassed her in many social and mature experiences. The way she usually was, Weiss couldn’t imagine Blake being that way. The girl once spent an entire weekend reading in the dorm room. This new information though made Weiss come to realize that she previously assumed. She just had to ask one more question. “Does Jaune know that?”

“Of course.” Blake said, feeling a little insulted. “I wouldn’t lie to him or not be open enough to talk about my past.

Weiss sighed in disbelief at her faunus friend. Perhaps her assessment of Blake reading a room well was a little off. As much as Jaune had been annoying to Weiss, she felt bad for his clearly anxious soul. “Blake, I expect this kind of cluelessness from our leader.”

Blake looked rough left and to the right as if anyone else was there to explain. “Uhhh what?” She said, actually a little stumped.

Weiss put her hands together like she was dealing with an interviewer with zero experience. “Let’s put it this way. You have asked me why your boyfriend, who is most definitely a virgin, shys away from sleeping with you? A beautiful girl who’s already had experience. Ya don’t think he’s you know, incredibly nervous of not meeting pre-established expectations? You know you’re boyfriend, Jaune Arc, the same Jaune Arc that worries about everything else in his life going well?”

Blake just...sat quietly for a moment. Her brain wasn’t even having a gears turning moment. She was upset with herself that those gears weren’t spinning from the beginning. There was nothing to figure out at all! She had simply glanced over that possibility! Her hands held her head as she let out a long groan. “Uuuuugggg What is wrong with me? Of course he fucking is. I’ve been so caught up thinking I was doing something physically wrong, or I was wrong.”

A part of that sounded like baggage. Baggage Weiss wasn’t about to unpack. “Well, question solved. Unfortunately, he’s right to worry. I can’t imagine anybody giving a good first performance. Has he even seen you fully naked?”

“We’ve sent pictures, and did a bit of touching. That second one though was always in...un-private areas, so clothes stayed on.

“Did you just tell me you two are doing things in public?” Weiss criticized. At this point, the girl known as Blake Belladonna might as well be a stranger. Weiss didn’t know this person! Her Blake was not this forward. When did they have time for any of this!? Was she not actually reading in the dorm room!!? “Also, I may not have ever slept with a woman, but I’m sure seeing their assets over a screen is less stressful than in my face.

Blake uncovered her face. “Explain Yang walking out the shower naked then?”

“That’s not stress you see, that’s envy. Next time she does it I’m turning the droplets on her into ice, and stop changing the subject!”

Blake threw her arms up, “Having a secret relationship means not having access to our dorms. That actually brings us to the favor I mentioned…”

“No, I will not give you money for a hotel.” Weiss deadpanned.

Blake’s jaw fell open. “Why not!? It doesn’t have to be a suite.”

Weiss rubbed the bridge of her knows as she thinks about her bank account. “No one carries enough cash to pay for a hotel room. Theoretically I could swipe my credit card, but then the bill is now in my purchase history. I do not need to explain in any capacity why I’m staying in a hotel. A person is bound to assume what I’m doing is exactly what you want to do. Nah uh, can’t do it.” Blake put her head down. Weiss couldn’t help but feel a little bad for her. She’s clearly been putting in the effort to sleep with Jaune, for some reason. Well he was...no no, that’s a rabbit hole that could stay closed. “How long do you need with him?” Weiss asked, committed to solving this problem for the sake of already being included.

Blake’s head popped up quickly . “Two, no, three hours. Give or take an extra half hour.”

Weiss blushes, “wh..why so long?”

“Just in case…” Blake mumbled, “Anything could happen.”

“For three hours? What are you, an animal in heat?” It didn’t even take a second for Weiss to realize how fucked up that question was. She placed her hand over Blake’s mouth as her friend's eyes were getting hostile. “Sorry! That was unrelated to anything, honest!”

Blake was kind enough to believe Weiss at her word, but still petty enough to lick the girl’s hand, making her shriek.

“Eeeiiik!!! Blake!”

“Three hours please.”

Weiss sighed, “Fine. Getting Ruby and Yang to stay out of there that long is doable. They always wanna drag me around to do things that will give me ‘culture’ as they put it. How are you gonna handle Jaune?”

“I….good question.”

Yep, definitely doesn’t read the room well. “Blake, just be easy with him. Reassuring words, all that stuff. It’s his first after all.”

Blake was surprised by the advice. “Wow, that’s really sweet of you to care about him like that.”

Weiss crosses her arms and turns away. “I’m doing this for you, not him. And for me. Jaune moping is way worse than when he’s confident. Hmph!”

xxxxx

“Come on Jaune! What’s taking so long?” Blake thought, fidgeting on her bed. A click of the door lock made her jump to her feet as it opened slowly. Jaune’s head peaked into the room, confused.

“Umm hello?”He looked to the right and saw Blake. “Oh, hey. I got your text and Weiss told me to swing by the moment I could. Everything okay?” Jaune walked in completely and shut the door. Something about this felt uncharacteristically serious. Even for Blake.

She took Jaune’s hand and guided him towards her bed to sit. “Okay, how to start this?” She sighed.

“I hope it starts with you telling me this isn’t a break up?” He said, worrying that he was in trouble. “That would be nice.”

Blake rubbed his back and smiled. “Relax, this isn’t that kind of talk. It’s actually...kinda the opposite.”

“The opposite? Like...marriage?” Jaune’s eyes widened. He wasn’t expecting that kind of conversation. “Don’t you think we’re too young for all that?”

Blake’s face turned red. The fact that’s where his mind went was actually pretty sweet. “Sex Jaune. I see how you got there, but I was referring to sex.” Blake mumbled. “Can we talk about it? We keep building up to it, but then you stop.”

His face got red. “I...it’s just…ummm” he couldn’t find the words. If Yang was here then he was sure a cat having his tongue pun would’ve been said. Jaune rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed about wimping out. Speaking only got worse when Blake took it upon herself to straddle his lap. Gods, she was too beautiful. Her eyes left him defenseless. The way her hands slowly ran up his chest and over his shoulders as the smell of lavender wafted over him. “Bl-Blake?”

“I like you.” She suddenly confessed, “I like you for who you are. The things you can do, can’t do, and never have done; I’m okay with all of it. If you’re thinking I’m ranking you to any previous experience, you’re wrong. The only experience I think about with you, is us. Our experiences.” Her right hand pulls his collar away from his neck. The urge to bite her lip is overwhelming as an urge in her core starts to burn. “Let me experience you.” She whispers. Blake leans in and begins kissing his neck. Honestly, she wanted to take things slower for his sake, but all but yearned for Jaune to touch her. So much so that it was a bit dizzying.

Jaune’s body flinched as Blake’s lips grazed his neck, nipping and licking it. “Blake…” Jaune moaned. His mind was still playing catch up, but his body was right on pace. His hands traveled up the feline’s toned legs and squeezed the round ass that rested on his lap, earning him a moan. Blake moved from his neck and captured his lips. Her hands went to his jawline to keep his face close. As if he thought about escaping.

Blake openly moaned as she felt his fingers kneed her ass like dough. She caught him by surprise when she slipped her tongue into his mouth, luring his into her own. Slowly, Blake locked her body back and forth to stir him up. The low groan he let out was a good sign she had done her job. Still, they have gotten this far before. Blake was determined to get further.

Her lips finally freed Jaune. The boy was flushed completely, catching his breath in rhythm with hers. Blake took the opportunity to remove only her blazer, then brought Jaune’s left hand away from her ass and onto her breast. Her fingers overlapped his and pressed down, making him squeeze it gently. “Touch me…” the lust in her voice flowed like a river. The way she felt Jaune’s hand quiver told her that he was still pretty anxious.

Jaune found it within himself to bring both of his hands to the top button of her shirt. A small smile on Blake’s face appeared as she closed her eyes and puffed her chest out a bit more as a sign to go ahead. “Take your time.” She said. Being patient wasn’t Blake’s strongest quality, but with Weiss’s advice in mind, she did her best to contain herself. It was funny. Jaune being nervous was actually making her heart beat faster.

Cool air hit her chest as her shirt was undone, revealing a purple lace bra. Firm hands went around her back. “I can handle the bra if you’re having tr-” a little pop noise was made as her bra strap was undone faster than her shirt. “Trouble…” she finished.

Jaune let out a sheepish chuckle. “Hehe, seven sisters, remember. I’m no stranger to how bras work. They left them everywhere.

“Jaune, you’re like a bag of tricks.” Blake smiled, “I just never know what comes next with you. That being said, I have a good idea that I'll be leading from here.” Blake let her bra fall, making Jaune gasp under his breath. Blake found his reaction to her D sized chest. His face got redder by the second as Blake brought his hands to them.

Jaune refused to speak. He’d hate to ruin the mood right now. He couldn’t believe how soft Blake felt. The way his fingers pressed against her as he massaged each boob. His pointer fingers grazed over her pale, pink nipples made the girl settle more into his lap.

“Mmmm~” Blake moaned, biting her lip from the touch. Jaune took it as a sign to keep going. A wise choice. Blake once again started to buck her hips against what had to be Jaune’s rock hard erection. Even with clothes on, it’s heat reached Blake’s equally hot core. Blake’s hands got busy. She scooted back a bit for them to have enough room to unbuckle Jaune’s pants. Her fingers traced along his lower stomach before dipping below the waistband and wrapping the throbbing erection. Blake leaned forward to capture his tongue yet again as he groaned from the feeling of her nimble fingers stroking his down.

Blake managed to pull his length up and out of his pants completely. She scooted forward again and rubbed his exposed cock against her wet panties. Her clit ground against the shaft. Blake mewled lustfully from Jaune squeezing her breast harder than before. Blake felt her tongue get drawn in and sucked on lightly. Someone was getting excited. The hot precum that ran down her hands only made it easier for Blake to pump faster.

Jaune couldn’t contain his groans and grunts. His hands gripped Blake’s ass again to hold her close. His kiss with her was broken by her going to kiss and bite his neck. “Blake…”

“Sshhh” Blake whispered, “cum for me.” If it wasn’t for her underwear, Jaune’s cock would be sliding up and down her soaked folds right now. The tip pressed against her clit and sent a shiver through Blake’s body that made her grind harder against it. She could tell Jaune was at the end of his rope. His hands gripped her even tighter as Jaune’s throbbing length finally let out a thick white seed that painted Blake’s moist thighs and panties. Blake smiled seductively as she slowed down the roll of her hips, letting him ride out his pleasure and wring out whatever remained inside.

“Blake!” Jaune hissed from the pleasure. Her hands pressed against his rising chest, making him lean back until his forearms had to support his body. Blake dismounted him to stand up for a moment then raised the sides of her soiled skirt, giving Jaune a clear view of the mess he made on the girl.

“Someone’s healthy.” Blake teased, “I wasn’t expecting so much.” Blake’s face became a deep red. Imagining the thought of this load inside her made her weak in all the right ways.

The sight of his and Blake’s arousal slowly trailing down her well toned legs was enough to leave anyone speechless. It didn’t help that her black panties were damp enough to outline the entrance to what Jaune would know to be a very intense experience. And as bad as he wanted it, Jaune couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed by his performance. “Not to kill the mood or sound ungrateful, but cumming alone is a bit… ehhh” was the best way he could describe himself.

Blake playfully rolled her eyes. Boys will be boys. “Well it’s not like we’re finished yet. Besides I literally told you cum. Rest assured I’ll get my moment a bliss before the end of this. Just have a bit of confidence. We’re still foreplaying.”

“I’m not an expert on this but is foreplay always this intense? I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard.” He admitted.

“It varies. Honestly...” Blake looked down at Jaune’s semi-flaccid dick. She slowly walked closer to the bed. Her hand tugged on Jaune’s slacks, prompting him to scoot down a bit more until Blake felt he was close enough. The young woman pulled a bit harder to pull his pants down and of the way of getting ruined. All why never taking her eyes off of him or is cum covered length. “....I like watching how good I make you feel.” She purred, getting excited again.

Jaune has no response to such a confession. Nor could he say anything as she bent over to grab his dick. Just her touching it was enough to make him grow. To get points even further across, Blake’s golden eyes looked right into his eyes as she made him tremble from placing her tongue at the base and lick up; agonizingly slow and deliberate too.

Blake took her time swirling around Jaune to collect the remnants of his load before taking him into her mouth for real. Jaune’s body tensed immediately and hand instinctively went to her head to brace himself as she bobbed up and down. His fingers wrapped around strains of hair, tugging them. Blake purred again with him down her throat and began watching him squirm.

“Blake!” He gasped. The girl only sped. Each time she went lower and lower while her tongue stroked the underside of his shaft. Before Jaune knew it, he was fully erect again and felt like he could cum again if she continued. “Blake! T-Timeout!” He yelled.

Blake gladly stopped. She had proved her point, gotten him hard again, and was pleasantly surprised to learn Jaune wasn’t that bitter in the slightest. Maybe it was his natural scent or something but Blake could see herself getting a bit too into sucking him off. That taste lingered on her and made her body burn up. “Need a break?”

“Not really.” He fibbed, knowing full well a girl who just went down him could probably tell just how into that experience he was. “I just… If I’m coming twice, I’d rather you get some action too.”

“Oh, okay.” Blake’s heart fluttered a bit. He really wanted her to feel good with him. “Then, let’s skip to the fun part.” Blake removed her panties that really should’ve removed earlier, along with the skirt.

Jaune marveled at his beautiful girlfriend who stood before him. Yeah they had sent pictures and sure she’s been topless for several minutes now, but it felt different once everything came off. Her long, beautiful legs went on each side of him, letting him have a full view of a wanting velvet core that hovered above his cock. A thin line of Blake’s arousal made both of teens blush as it dripped onto him. Jaune took his right thumb and pressed against her entrance, rubbing it slowly and watching how it coated his thumb.

“Mmmm~” Blake let out a breath that shook with excitement. Her chest began to rise and fall more distinctly and her back arched ever so slightly as she closed her eyes. “Please don’t fucking team me too long.” She moaned, nudging her hips to gain more friction.

Jaune was mesmerized by the way she acted. He sunk his thumb into her just to watch her crane her neck up and moan again. If he wasn’t excited before, he was now. “You’re so fucking wet…” pushing further in to feel her walls tighten. He kept a slow rhythm when pulling out, just to push right back in.

Blake bit her lip. Her hands ran up his shirt to expose his chest. She had to remember to thank

Pyrrha for putting Jaune through such rigorous training. He was well on his way to being the huntsman he so dearly dreamed of. It was funny but the more Blake thought it about, the more she realized what made her so drawn to him. Even when Jaune lacked experience, he set his sights high. Sure they could be a little too high at times, but you know what? There was something great about that. “I thought I told you not to tease me? I want you to give it to me.” Blake purred. She mustered the resolve to pry Jaune’s hand from her body and took hold of something much bigger and lively. “Ready for a ride? Just relax and let me lead okay?”

Jaune nodded. He watched Blake lower herself without a second thought. His hips instinctively bucked up as he felt the indescribable pleasure of wet, heated walls pulled him in tightly, refusing to let go. Jaune closed his eyes and gripped her waist.

“Feeling good?” Blake shuddered. The feeling of Jaune rubbing her insides so deep made her want to move immediately. Blake put her hands against Jaune’s chest and began rocking her hips. The grip Jaune had on her tightened. A low groan strained from his throat. Blake leaned forward until her breast pressed against him. “It gets better.” Her knees started feeling weak as raised her hips, having Jaune’s dick slid out until the tip remained. Blake then dropped her hips down, slamming his cock back inside of her. Again and again she did that, picking up the speed each time until the sound of her ass smacking against his lap filled the room and rocked the bed. Blake’s body was on autopilot. The feeling of her womb being invaded and walls being grazed, shocked Blake each time Jaune’s dick spearheaded inside of her wanting pussy. “Oh fuck yes…” Blake gasped, licking and biting Jaune’s neck.

The boy was going through it right now. Never had Jaune felt this kind of heat. No amount of foreplay could prepare anybody for this. Each slight movement felt like a jolt of lightning. His mind and body were conflicted. On one hand, Jaune wanted to hold out as long as possible. Yet his hips had other plans. Jaune couldn’t stop himself from timing his movements with Blake’s, thrusting deep into her for even greater pleasure

Blake had no problem with this whatsoever. “Ahhh~ just like that!” Blake encouraged, “You’re so deep...mmmm” the heat between them only grew. Their bodies worked up a sweat and Blake found herself panting more than moaning. Letting Jaune cum once was a good idea. Not only for him to last longer for this moment, but even Blake wasn’t confident her experience would give her an edge against his stamina. High sex drive or not, Blake knew herself well. Satisfying her needs wasn’t as trying as Jaune might think. Especially when she’s topping.

Blake sat up and leaned back a bit. She braced her hands behind her back and began rocking back and forth with Jaune completely inside of her.

Jaune couldn’t take his eyes off of Blake’s body as it grinded on him. The woman’s eyes were shut tight as she focused on the pleasure, while her boobs bounced from each rock. “You’re so beautiful.” He said without thinking. The compliment was heard though, since Blake immediately started going even faster. Jaune let out another groan. He wanted her so bad. Sitting still just wasn’t his style.

Blake’s concentration was broken when she felt strong arms around her lower back. She opened her eyes to see the blonde knight sit up as well. “Jaune?” She said confused. Instead of answering her. Jaune gave her a chaste but strong kiss before his mouth went suck on one of her tits. “Jaune!” She moaned, gripped his hair. Blake arched her back as she felt him lick and suck it, while groping the other one. The assault on her body only intensified when his remaining free hand fell to her ass to squeeze it while she continued to fuck herself on his dick until her mind felt foggy. “This is...too much!” Her hand clung to him. “And you were worried!?” She asked knowing he couldn’t speak right now.

Jaune might’ve been happy by the question if he wasn’t too busy fighting off his fast approaching orgasm. It was crazy Blake was the one saying he was doing too much. Her scent, the way her body pressed against his, the sounds that escaped her beautiful lips, and the way she moved her hips. As if she was trying to milk everything out of him all at once. Every part of her wax too much yet Jaune could only want more, surrendering to the embrace of her soaked walls. Jaune gasped for air. “Blake, I….I can’t...”

Words were beyond him. All he could do was buck in between Blake’s legs.

A seductive smile grew on her face as she went faster. “That’s right, fuck me just like this….and cum. Blake leaned into his, “Hard…”

A slave to her voice, Jaune obeyed Blake’s words without fail. He could only manage several more intoxicating moments before the urge to cum was too strong to deny. Jaune held her close and kept her there; shooting ropes white inside her.

Blake felt Jaune bite down on her shoulder as he filled her deep. All the rough touches and spasms was more than enough to push her over the edge. “Shit…” she said with a shrill voice. Her arms and legs wrapped tightly around his body and Blake buried her face in the crook of neck. Blake tried resisting but her nails dug into his back as her orgasm finally hit. Every muscle in her body tensed up. Her toes curled and she could feel Jaune throbbing inside her as her body tried taking everything the boy had to give.

Neither could speak. They could only cling to each other for what felt like forever before the waves of pleasures finally subsided. Blake was the first to loosen her grip. The girl's limbs released tension and she had zero desire to move an inch. It was only when Jaune went to tilt her head up by her chin that the two looked at each other with a mix of gratification and exhaustion. Blake positioned his hand for her head to rest in, purring at the feel of his touch.

Jaune let out at chuckle. He fell backwards onto the bed with Blake following him down. The girl laid on top of him and continued purring.

“Yeah I don’t see what you were worried about.” She said, teasingly.

“Hey, when Blake Belladonna says she wants to have her way with you, panic sets in. So, good time?”

Blake flicked his forward. “You have me laying on top of you naked and purring.”

“Yeah, fair point. Phew, well that’s good. I like making you happy.”

Blake blushed as she felt his arms hold her gently. “Hmm well looks like you’ve given me a new experience after all.”

“What, cuddling after sex?”

“Mmmhmmm.” Blake hummed, “No time to cuddle when you’re you know, working in a cult. Luxuries like that don’t exist.”

Jaune smirked, “Gee, I never would’ve guessed.” Blake pinched him for that sarcastic remark. Not that it actually did anything. “Well I’m happy to be your first post sex cuddle experience. Though it’s a little risky isn’t it?”

“We have like three hours before anyone shows up. It’s fine.”

“Not exactly the issue I had in mind but good to know.”

Blake’s eyelids felt heavy. That was until the feeling of Jaune’s hands on her butt shocked her away. The feeling of him swelling inside her again made her shudder. Stamina was dangerous. “Please, fifteen minutes. We have like three hours.” She groaned. “Then I’ll have you screaming all over again.”

“Fine by me, but this time I’m getting you off at least twice. Two to one just isn’t fair. I want you just as pleased as me.”

Looking back on things, Blake mentally retracted her statement about boys and their pride. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. “I’ll hold you to that.” Blake closed her eyes and got some rest.

xxxx

“We’re back!” Yang shouted as she walked in with her two teammates. She looked over to see Blake chillin on her bed reading in her sleeping clothes. “Gee if it wasn't for your clothes then I would’ve believed you actually sat there and read the entire time. I’m surprised you haven’t finished all of your books.”

“I’m a slow reader.” Blake blatantly lied. “I did finish a couple of times, books I mean.” Her eyes looked up from the pages to see Weiss staring at her in voiceless disbelief. She wiggled her eyebrows, making Weiss turn red.

The heiress turned around and walked out the room.

“Weiss, where are you going?” Ruby asked.

The Schnee sighed and kept walking. “A place that makes sense.”

Ruby didn’t know what that meant she looked at Yang who shrugged, then to Blake who masterfully controlled her laughter. “Huh, I guess Blake reading slowly through her for a loop?”

It was impossible for Blake not to place her book over her face and smile behind it. “Never change Ruby.” She muttered, “Never change.”

[iphoenixrising]

DickTim Week Day 4: Dark!Dick and Vampire!Tim

So. So. *Steeples fingers* this may or may not be the fic for you. Yet another combination prompt because the people on the Capes and Coffee Discord are fucking enablers. You know who you are.

Warnings for: captivity, blood-letting, missing-in-time Bruce

The hidden bunker is outside the city limits of Gotham, a perfect place to stay off the grid.

Officer Grayson makes the drive with the radio on WKKG, All Gotham, All the Time. He moves his head to the beat of the pop song blaring over the line.

The outside of the abandoned gas station looks positively deserted and if they were any more rural, tumble weeds would be rolling around the decrepit gas pumps.

Officer Grayson parks around the back of the building out of sight and grabs the paper bags from the passenger side, holds his cup of coffee in the same hand, whistles to himself as he gets out of the police cruiser.

A complex locking system on a seemingly outdated walk-in freezer opens up to an elevator that is decidedly the newest fixture in the place.

He hums the chorus of the pop song from the radio on the way down, small smile on his face reflecting back at him from the mirrored doors.

The underground is a completely different world.

Apparently constructed to be a bunker, the basement is lead-lined and spacious with all processes set-up to stay off the grid, perfect for his needs. He has a separate power supply, a separate HVAC system, a security system with nearly imperceptible cameras to make sure no one, no one gets close enough to the property without alerting him immediately.

And he certainly doesn’t want anyone finding his personal mission here.

Officer Grayson puts one of the grocery bags down on a table littered with notebooks and read-outs he’d left the last time after he’d gotten samples. He sips on his coffee as he walks around the first room, lit only by the emergency lights at the top of the low-slung ceiling, and turns on the power, turns on the lights in the rest of the bunker.

The beeps behind him are the locks resetting on the elevator, the only way out.

Dick is still humming when he passes into the next room, blocked on either end with thick, metal doors complete with a complex locking mechanism and impressive alarm system. The many tables in this room are filled with laboratory equipment, a biotechnician’s playground.

Half-completed analyses are still running on the impressive screens mounted overhead, status bar at 68%.

Five-gallon buckets under the tables with black Sharpie denote chemical names with dates scribbled hastily below.

Dick sips his coffee as he looks up at the running totals, makes mental notes, compares previous tests and results.

It’s discouraging, but Dick just sighs to himself. Of all vigilantes in Gotham, he’s the optimist, and he knows that each failure will just bring him closer and closer to success. He just can’t give up.

Bruce is counting on them.

With his coffee and bag in one hand, he lets the analysis churn, and enters his code in the next door, then places a palm print on the pad outside. Leans down so his eye scan can be completed.

Unlike the other rooms, the lights come on the second the door fully unlocks and opens to allow Dick entrance.

The reason for that is to turn on the intense sun lamps to further weaken the figure strapped down to the gurney in the center of the room, strategically lessening the possibility of an attack.

Dick puts the bag and his coffee down on the only table in the room.

“Sorry I didn’t come yesterday. Rupert Thorne had a big shipment planned and we were up late tracking it,” his voice is light and cheery, his smile wide and white. He comes to the side of the gurney, takes note of the slight burning smell that always seems to permeate the room no matter how much he tries to avoid it by making sure there’s always something between skin and pure silver. Struggling dislodges whatever he uses, so the result is the smell of burning flesh.

He clicks his tongue in disappointment, looking down at Timmy’s closed eyes and painfully pale face.

His frown deepens when Tim Drake rolls his head over to face the wall instead.

Silver chains wrap his arms, legs, neck, and torso, rendering him utterly immobile. Holy relics hang over the gurney as an added safety measure. He’s completely naked under a flimsy sheet.

“Aren’t you going to say hello?” He asks softly. “I’m letting Alfred pick up Dami so I can spend some extra time with you today.”

IVs are grotesquely hooked into each major artery, set on slow drain. The multiple blood bags hooked under the gurney show the slow trickle as the bags fill to a crawl.

Tim’s violet-blue eyes crack open a sliver, but he doesn’t look away from the wall, away from freedom.

“That isn’t very nice,” Dick’s tone stays soft, yet firm. “You know what I’m trying to do here.”

The sound of Tim trying to swallow is heard over the soft mechanical beeping, the hum of working equipment. “You know how important you are to this, Timmy. I don’t like how you keep refusing to be a team player.” Dick pauses just a moment, eyes narrow, “is this still about Damian being Robin now? Because you know how many times we’ve been over this.”

Tim closes his eyes again, a muscle in his jaw jumps.

“Well, I think you’ve been sulking about it long enough,” Dick brusquely throws the sheet out of the way to show IVs, burns, and the network of complicated blood vessels below deathly pale skin. “You knew even before you went to Iraq my choices were the best for everyone, not just you.”

Dick checks all the leads, makes sure the drip is slow. He doesn’t so much as lift up the solid silver chains and nudge them with the cloth he keeps underneath, the point of it is to try and keep Tim’s skin from burning, temporarily cauterizing his veins and killing the supply. The last time the chains were displaced this much, Dick had made the mistake of lifting one, giving Tim enough power to bare his fangs and lunge. Since then, the chains have stayed put, only shuffled around a little.

“And if you would have just listened to me and stayed in Gotham, you wouldn’t have been caught by vampires in the first place. You know that, don’t you? If you would have worked with us at home, Ra’s would have never taken that much of an interest and led them right to you. Heck, you might still be alive and have your spleen.”

Shaking his head in frustration at all the events from last year when Bruce’s body was brought back, when the Battle for the Cowl had forced him to raise his hand against Jason again and break his heart over Little Wing again, when he knew Tim didn’t need any more mentorship, didn’t need the support and encouragement Damian did after losing their father, and the ultimate decision to let Tim decide his own future after Robin, when seeing Tim six months after his disappearance as a vampire in a cape, all of it had made the choice on how to handle this situation.

How to fix everything that had gone so horribly wrong.

Do what he had to do, try disseminating the secrets of immortality so they could bring Bruce back.

And like this, Tim is going to help him do it.

“But it’s okay,” he’s back to smiling again, “we’ve worked past all that, haven’t we, Timmy?” Dick is satisfied all the leads are fine and the slow flow unimpeded. He steps back to the bag on the table.

In one hand is a pint of O Positive. In the other, a Krispy Kreme with sprinkles.

Both their favorites.

“C’mon,” he cajoles after taking a bite of his donut, “it’s one of Steph’s extra pints. I know you’re going to like it.”

He holds the oozing bag to Tim’s averted mouth and patiently waits, nibbles on his donut in the other hand.

“Why don’t,” and the tone is hoarse, faint because Timmy mostly doesn’t really talk to him anymore, “you just kill me?”

Dick pauses mid-chew, blinking down at the eyes filling with bloody tears, the hitch in the chest that doesn’t really move anymore.

Dick swallows the bite, suddenly more like ash than icing in his mouth. “You know I can’t do that,” is more harsh than he means. “We don’t kill. Not even vampires.”

“Then let me go.”

“Can’t let you go out and kill people either, Tim, and I need the supply for testing.”

“This is torture. This is fucking torture and you don’t even give a shit about me anymore–”

With a flick of his fingers, a crucifix falls right on Tim’s chest, and the screams are awful, horrible, but that is probably never going to outweigh the smell.

By the time Dick finishes his donut, Tim is weakly writhing in agony and the screams have died down to soft whimpers, mouth open to show those killer fangs.

He dusts his hands off and pulls on a glove from the Nightwing suit under his uniform, gingerly lifts the holy item off, grimaces when tissue and flesh stick to it.

“Kill me,” Timmy whimpers. “Just fucking kill me.”

Dick scoffs and takes the chance to lean down, presses his mouth to Tim’s forehead. “You know I can’t lose anyone else,” is the softest of reprimands. “Don’t worry. Once I just figure this out, we’ll get Bruce back and he’ll help us reverse the turning. Before you know it, this will seem like just a bad dream.”

Dick presses another kiss to each eyelid, talking softly against the deceptively soft yet immortal skin. “And when you’re back to yourself, we can be together again. I’ll take care of you just like I used to, promise.”

Dick leans back up with a small smile on his face and familiar fondness in his eyes. He holds the bag up to Tim’s mouth again, ignores the red tears streaming down the pale face. “We’ll get there, okay? I’m close to the answers we need. I just need a little more time. But, I have to have samples to work with, which means you to drink, Timmy.”

Like usual, the pink tracks down his face stand out starkly in the false sunlight when Tim finally gives in and punctures the bag with his fangs.

[guqin-and-flute]

[You know how there’s a set of fics I promised to work on first? Apparently that was a lie! 😘 This is just epilogue, Post-Reconciliation fluff with teenage Jingyi--he’s probably 15-16 CW: Moderate descriptions of dead bodies and injuries in reference to a game they’re playing]

[3zun Raise Jingyi AU] [Main Fic][Ao3 Link]

“Are you you cold?”

“Oh yeah, very.”

“Are you animated?”

“No.”

“Do I know you?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm.”  Yellow-Father flipped the page of the book he was examining, eyes still on his work. “Are there obvious wounds?”

“Yup, my organs are all chewed up, throat torn out, and...let’s say my nose is gone.” Jingyi thumped his chin into his hands, sticking his legs straight out under the low table in the middle of Yellow-Father’s office, idly waggling his feet. 

Next to him at the table, Gray-Father looked like he was falling asleep, his cheek all smushed against his propped up fist, eyes mostly closed, but he still grunted, “Shape of the teeth marks?”

Jingyi squinted into space and wrinkled his nose, considering. “Oblong?”

Yellow-Father twitched a half smirk without looking up from what he was signing. “Oblong teeth?”

“No, oblong...jaw shape or whatever,” Jingyi waved his hand dismissively, wiping away his previous words before drawing a long, thin U-shape in the air with his index finger. 

Gray-Father cracked one eye open to take in the sketch, then closed it again. “Not a fierce corpse, then.”

With an air of exaggerated mystery, Jingyi shrugged, then sprawled backward on the floor so he took up the rest of the walkway in front of the door. “Whoooo’s to say? Is that your guess?”

“Boy, I said it wasn’t a fierce corpse, why would that be my guess?”

“Well, you’re trying to fish for unauthorized information, Chifeng-zun, you gotta play by the rules,” Jingyi shot back sternly, jabbing a serious and admonishing finger in his direction.

Though his eyes were closed, it was very clear that Gray-Father rolled them.

Yellow-Father heaved a sigh and drummed his fingers idly on his desk, gaze roving over the piles of paper as he sucked on his teeth in thought--though, Jingyi had to admit, probably not just about their game. Yellow-Father seemed to operate on several levels at once at all times. “Are there deep puncture marks?” 

“Uhhh...sort of?”

Finally, Yellow-Father looked up to shoot him an amused glance over his desk edge.  “’Sort of?’ That’s hardly fair or specific.” Rising, he gathered a stack of scrolls and came around his desk, stepping easily over Jingyi’s supine form before rapping smartly on the door with his knuckles. 

“Like...teeth marks are technically puncture marks.”

After a moment, the door slid open and a harried looking Jin courier took the pile without a word and disappeared down the hall. Yellow-Father closed the door and turned back. “Yes, I suppose. I’m asking specifically about fangs.”

Lolling his head over, Jingyi watched as he stepped back over him without even looking, robe hem brushing over his belly. He barely fought the sudden urge to grab his ankles as he might have when he was younger. He managed not to--but it was definitely a close thing. “It’s not a snake.”

“What?” Gray-Father demanded, sounding offended.

Jingyi lolled his head back to see his eyes open, glaring at him in mock reproach. “You’ll tell him it’s not a snake but you can’t confirm it’s not a fierce corpse without threatening to take away my guess? How is that playing by the rules?”

“Aha,” Jingyi raised his finger straight into the air again as he proclaimed, “But it is.” Then, he pointed back down at himself. “Because I make the rules.” 

Gray-Father gave a derisive huff through his nose, but smiled. “Yeah, that was cute when you were 5. Not so much anymore.”

“Um, whatever, I’m adorable. Dieeee, are you done yet? I’m bored. When is Blue-die done with his meeting? I wanna gooo.” 

“Patience, Jingyi, I need to clean up. And he’s coming.” Yellow-Father rustled about on his desk, neatly packing everything away into drawers and piles that Jingyi thought were a little excessive--like, why did it need to be that clean? “Where did we find you, again?”

With an exaggerated scoff, Jingyi shook his head slowly, feeling the hard floor beginning to dig into the knob at the back of his skull. He’d have to sit up soon. “Wooow, you find a dead body and you don’t even care enough to remember your surroundings. This must be just any other day to you.”

“In the woods, he said,” Gray-Father betrayed him easily, so Jingyi raised his head to shoot him a glare, but his eyes were closed again. Wriggling closer, he punched the side of his rock of a thigh, earning him a chuckle and Gray-Father leaning down to flip the ends of his fanned out hair over his face.

“Woods, thin, oblong jaws, deep tooth marks, throat torn out, organs and nose gone--or at least chewed on,” Yellow-Father ticked off precisely down an imaginary list as he turned from shelving to continue puttering around. “I’m guessing; wolves.”

Heaving himself upright, Jingyi crashed his hands together just as the gold, white, and blue painted door slid open once again and he bellowed. “GUAAAUAUAUANG!” 

Framed in the doorway, Blue-Father stopped short and blinked at the sudden noise but smiled in amusement. “’Guaaaung?’” When Jingyi thrust out his hands demandingly, he stepped in and obligingly gave him custody of one of his arms. “Hello.”

“Almost done, Er-ge,” floated Yellow-Father’s voice from the closet.

“Clearly, it’s a gong noise.” Jingyi used his arm to haul himself to his feet--Blue-Father didn’t even sway. “They won; I was murdered by wolves.”

At this pronouncement, his blue father cocked his head down at him, smile turning quizzical as Jingyi dusted off the seat of his robes. “...Ah?”

Gray-Father blew out a breath and shook himself awake, unfolding slowly from the table.  “We were playing Dead Body while we waited for you and A-Yao to be done,” he explained, then gave a hugely expansive stretch, scrunching his face up. “I was thinking it was wolves, but I was waiting for the usual twist.”

Yellow-Father emerged from the closet with a smug smile and murmured, “Mmm, of course you were,” to which Gray-Father leaned over the desk and swatted at his butt--he easily dodged. 

“The twist was that there was no twist, this time,” Jingyi said sagely, hands on his hips. “Are we good to go? Finally?”

“I...yes.” Blue-Father still had on that ‘I still don’t know what’s going on here’ smile as Yellow-Father closed the shutters against the streaming sun and joined them. “How does one play Dead Body, exactly?” he asked curiously as he leaned down to let Yellow-Father kiss his cheek hello just before they made their way out into the hall.

Pretending to hold back barf was something Jingyi did less because he cared about them kissing and more because it was his job as annoying teenage son to do things like that. In any case, he was rewarded by Gray-Father wrapping him in a casual headlock, then ignoring him when he flailed to escape as Yellow-Father locked up his office. “You mean you’ve never played Dead Body with him?”

“Mm, not that I recall--and I feel like I would remember something like that.”

From his chaotic and squished vantage point, he saw Yellow-Father look down at him--all captured and partially strangled and sputtering under Gray-Father’s arm. He rolled his eyes, and fondly scolded, “Let him breathe, Da-ge.”

Easily, Gray-Father complied. Wonderful, blessed air flooded back into Jingyi’s lungs--which he immediately used for retaliation by leaping onto Gray-Father’s back like a monster spider and wrapping him in a headlock of his own. Yellow-Father winced and hissed, “Mind Baxia, Fufu, for gods’ sake--”

“Dead Body isn’t a Lan game,” Jingyi panted dismissively, tightening his grip and bracing himself when Gray-Father planted his feet to take stock of the situation. 

His other 2 fathers continued to walk on, out of range of Such Antics. It was a good thing, too, because in a whirl of walls and ceiling, Gray-Father managed to very neatly flip him over his shoulder onto the ground. With a smack, all the breath stuck in his lungs for a few agonizing moments while his horrible, rotten Gray-Father grinned down at him and laughed, “You little ass. What did you think was going to happen?”

“Vengeance,” Jingyi wheezed back several seconds later when he could breathe again again. The ring in his ears hadn’t completely left, yet. 

“--and then you have to diagnose what killed him. It was very popular back when he was around 7 years old,” Yellow-Father was explaining to Blue-Father ahead of them, ignoring the intense drama of betrayal and revenge happening just up the hall. “Though, what on earth makes it not a ‘Lan game’ is beyond me.”

Staggering to his feet with the grudgingly accepted hand of his gray father, Jingyi caught up to them 2 of them. “Right, like shu-gong would want me lying around shouting about my limbs being torn off. He doesn’t even like me yelling about normal things; I would get so many lines.” He flopped down onto his yellow Father’s shoulders and leaned as they walked, even though he was just a little taller, now (and oooh, didn’t Yellow-Father hate it).

 Automatically, his father reached up and pet his head, even as he said, “You’re crushing me, Fufu.”

Transferring over to Blue-Father, he hung from his shoulders when he patiently slowed to allow him to do so. “You find a body,” Jingyi intoned, dramatically. “It’s Lianfang-zun.” He spread his other hand wide as if painting the scene. “He’s folded up like a letter in the halls of Koi Tower! Cause of death?”

“A ridiculous son,” Gray-Father chuckled from behind them, and Jingyi twisted to kick up a foot and stuck out his tongue.

“Wrong.”

“Usually, there was a lot more posing, as a child,” Yellow-Father informed Blue-Father in a heavy tone over Jingyi’s head. “And props. It was a whole ordeal. I’m forever grateful it’s now entirely theoretical.”

“Ahh, I see,” Blue-Father shook his head and put a steadying arm around his shoulder as Jingyi hopped along on one foot, waggling his other one behind him as bait for Gray-Father to take amused, cursory swipes at. “Is there a reason I never got to play Dead Body?”

With exaggerated patience, Jingyi put both feet on the ground and reached up to pat his blue father’s cheek, smiling sympathetically. “Die, whenever I wanted to play war, you always asked if there was a peaceful solution--and I just wanted to stab people.”

All 3 fathers burst out laughing as they rounded the corner of the hallway, the sun shining warmly over their sides from the garden windows. “Oh, so you decided that I just didn’t have the stomach for it, is that it?” Blue-Father asked with a grin.

Jingyi heaved himself off, spinning around to walk backward in front of all of them. “I mean, sort of? I think maybe I figured it would make you too sad to imagine me dead?”

At this, Gray-Father’s eyebrows shot up with a sharp, incredulous laugh and Yellow-Father reared his head back in offended bafflement, demanding, “Oh, and for some reason we wouldn’t be sad to imagine you dead?!”

Shrugging aggressively, Jingyi held up his hands in defense. “I dunno! He seemed like he would handle it worse! I was 7, what do you want from me? It doesn’t have to make sense, I was an idiot!”

“Oh, you were not an idiot,” Blue-Father protested, tilting his head and crinkling him a smile. “You were wonderful.”

“You were 7,” Yellow-Father agreed with Jingyi’s first statement, darkly. Apparently, he was still highly offended, because he muttered, “’Handle it worse’...” under his breath before saying, “You’re about to run into a vase, Jingyi, turn around.”

Instead of obeying, Jingyi just veered away from the obstacle and continued to shrug at him when he sighed and looked to his blue father for help. Before it could come, Gray-Father nudged Blue-Father with his shoulder, teasing, “Congratulations on being the only one to actually care about our son, apparently.”

“Holy hell, fine, if it’s going to be A Thing, we’ll all play and mourn my death together. Happy?” As he rolled his eyes, Jingyi nearly ran into the wall as the last corridor before the outside door ended, but Yellow-Father caught his sleeve and steered him right with feigned annoyance in his pursed lips.

Blue-Father laughed, the light sparking off his spikey guan when he shook his head fondly. “Alright, I’ll play if you turn around. What do we find?”

Obediently, Jingyi spun back around and waited to fall into step with them, pondering the details of his gruesome demise. Beside him, Yellow-Father rolled his eyes to the ceiling with one dimple showing and Gray-Father shook his head with a grin. Then, Jingyi snapped his fingers and spread his hands theatrically just as they all rounded the corner of the hallway. “Alright, so, I’m face down in a river and I’m covered in boils--” 

[ace-does-stuff]

Tree dwellers

(@just-a-random-sonic-fan I used a bit of Archie comic lore cause that's what I grew up on, hope you don't mind, also had no clue how to end this either)

Knuckles was an island dweller.

Espio was a tree dweller.

They are yet to meet once again.

Years have passed since Espio left his domain, the trees of islands above, where he belonged. He found friends, brothers, as he roamed the streets of the city below.

His brothers name was Charmy, Charmy the Bee, a little kid that simply drifted. He had an older brother before Espio, Vector, Vector the Crocodile.

The three of them created the Chaotix Detective Agency, an agency that was missing a stealthy creature until Espio came along. Now that they had Espio, half the jobs they couldn't take and finish now they could.

A new mission had come up, one from a bat mercenary named Rouge. Espio had to admit she was a lovely lady with a great personality, something she said was often overlooked.

Their mission was to infiltrate Angel Island.

Espio once lived there, in his clan which he left. He wasn't a fan of how everyone was divided split into roles by gender and among other things. Unlike the rest of the guys who didn't mind sticking at home to work the hard work on the farms, he wanted to be free in the trees with the girls, leaping from branch to branch as he hunted.

He was almost pleased to return his home island, but bitter memories and stings of reality that he would be shunned prevented him from enjoying returning.

Rouge had to say why they were going there twice before Espio got the message, to caught up in memories.

The three were riding to the island, landing on the edge of the island before devising a small plan.

"Espio," Vector started, Espio snapped from the memories that washed over him at the fresh and chilling island breeze. "You’re gonna assess the area before returning to tell us whether or not the emerald is guarded." Espio sighed a bit under his breath, before hopping out the airplane and forcing his scales to fluctuate to their camouflage state.

He tried to keep himself steady as he walked across the new grounds in a familiar place, the carved white rock below his feet somewhat crumpling. His memories blurred slightly, he could almost see himself here when he was younger, playing alone. The cool air gave him goosebumps under his scales, but the scents carried along those breezes reminded him of other times.

He was shaking in his boots, but he persisted in his mission no matter what. He crawled up the sides of the crumbling pillars to get a vantage point. He saw the green emerald and someone sitting atop it, someone red, he couldn’t define anymore than the color of their fur. He slid down the pillar and crept closer, trying to stay quiet despite how much he shook.

When Espio got a closer look at the red Mobian, he recognized them as an echidna, a presumed extinct species. He nearly lost his focus on his invisibility due to shock, he managed to hold his state of zero hue just barely as he stepped closer. He was shaking and having a hard time keeping his walking even and silent. The crimson echidna was sitting legs crossed with their eyes closed and head resting on their hands, seemingly asleep.

Espio stepped closer and closer until he was only three to five feet from the Master Emerald, the echidnas eyes snapped open shocking Espion into releasing a squeak before falling back a bit and tripping on the stairs, landing on his face. A crack ran down his horn, a small chip of the enamel breaking off, he hissed in pain. He forced himself to his feet as footsteps slowly came closer, pain reverberated in his skull.

Espio and the echidna simply stared at each other, Espio standing a few inches lower than the echidna due to being at the bottom of the short staircase. Purple clashed with yellow as they stared each other down until the echidna spoke.

“Get off of my island.”

The tone had murderous intent and the echidna flashed their fangs, stepping closer by one step, only then did the spikes on their gloves become apparent to Espio. The chameleon stepped back again, unable to break eye contact or think perfectly fine with the pain stemming from his horn being cracked. The echidna only stepped closer and closer, forcing Espio further and further across the marble until the two were on grass. They edged closer and closer to the cliff of the island, Espio nearly slipping off, the echidna gripping Espios horn instead to make sure he wouldn’t fall off.

“I told you to get off, I didn’t tell you to die.”

The tone was only a bit softer but still held the edge, Espio didn’t notice it considering how tight his horn was being gripped. The echidna threw Espio to the side hearing a crack as another part of his horn was broken off, the chameleon screamed in pain as he clutched his head. Espio shot up and shot the echidna a stare that only caused fear as blood trickled from around where his horn was secured in his skull.

“You could’ve broken me! Do you have any clue how crucial it is I keep my horn intact?” Espio screamed as he walked over to the echidna, balance unsteady as he did so, but still managing to keep a menacing façade.

“How am I supposed to know?! Chameleons are supposed to be extinct!” The echidna shouted back, Espios pace faltered for only a second, the quiet of the island did have him confused, but he paid no mind to it.

“You know who else is supposed to be extinct?! Echidnas damnit!” Espio shouted as he pressed a finger to the echidnas chest before throwing a punch and decking them in the nose with a sickening crack, crimson was a telltale sign he had broken their snout a bit.

The echidna skidded across the ground only a bit before jumping to their feet and launching themselves at Espio with a spiked punch. Espio just barely managed to block in time, spikes digging into his shoulders, he pushed the echidna back long enough to throw a sweeping kick that the echidna countered by slamming the side of his ankle into the back of Espios knee. Espio dropped to the ground as pain surged through his left leg, the echidna had a foot on Espios chest in seconds.

“Before I make sure you never return I might as well know the name of my opponent, care to share?”

“Espio.”

The echidna froze at the name, it sounded so familiar, so distant yet warm. They removed their foot from Espios chest before walking away leaving the chameleon to try and regain his footing. The echidna simply climbed back onto the emerald and shot Espio a commanding glare.

“Leave before I have to hurt you anymore than I already have, not like I want to anyways.”

The echidna huffed shortly after finishing their sentence as Espio stepped closer, his head was reeling for so many reasons and he should just leave already, but he needed to know why his assailant stopped. He clutched his horn as he walked closer till he was only a few feet from the echidna once again, trying to force out a coherent question to gain an answer he needed.

“Who are you?”

“Why does it matter, I’m just some useless echidna and your just some chameleon.”

“You said they went instinct, how come you didn’t confirm that, how come you falter in your attack?”

“I’m Knuckles and the only reason the chameleons are all kaput except for you is because I killed them!”

“…”

“I had to do it Espio! I had to!”

“Why…?”

“They wanted to steal the Master Emerald for their own foolish needs and I had to honor my race, my race that went extinct because of yours, I had to honor them all Espio!”

“Why does your name sound so comforting?”

“What does my name sound like Espio old chum?! What does it sound like!?”

“Like evenings under the sun, like sweet treats and warm blankets, like so many other things I can’t describe.”

“Well I hate to break it to you, but your name sounds like nothing more than poison in my food and toxins in my blood, you left me for some world below us, we had everything we wanted and you left me here to die!”

“Knuckles I don’t remember-“

“You left me here under siege of your own fucking race! You were the only reason they didn’t total me when I was a kid with no clue! And you, you left me to be sniped and die off, I killed them in self defense Espio!”

“I, I had no clue, can we talk-“

“Of course, you had no clue, you never took a second to question why you weren’t supposed to walk near the Master Emerald by your clans’ laws! It’s because of me, some fierce blood thirsty echidna that’s gonna kill everyone! And I did, I killed them all wowie look at me, I’m such a great guy!”

“Knuckles!”

“Y-Yes?”

“I didn’t know they wanted the Master Emerald; I didn’t know they wanted to kill you; I didn’t know anything! I nearly forgot about this place after all the time that’s passed since we last saw each other! Now can we please stop fighting and just talk?!”

“Sure.”

Silence fell between the two as Espio nervously rubbed his arm, Knuckles tried to not make eye contact. They had to talk eventually, sooner than later they would crack and talk, fess up to something, anything.

“I was, I was brought here on a mission to, to take the Master Emerald.”

“That’s it, nope, no, nu uh, we’re throwing fists till one of us stands, get over here-“

“I’m not finished my sentence.”

“Sorry.”

“I don’t have to take it Knuckles, I can just say that someone beat me to the punch, or that it was moved.”

“Thanks.”

Neither spoke, a peaceful serenity of the silence settling as they stared at each other, Espio turned to leave before a question was asked.

“Do you even remember me?”

[dracowars]

forbidden | draco malfoy

pairing: draco x slytherin!reader

word count: 3,6k

summary: where y/n and draco have to endure a very special type of detention

a/n: welcome to my first ever one shot. i hope you enjoy it! please let me know if there are any mistakes.

warnings: none

universe: harry potter

Honestly you weren't really surprised that Professor Snape gave Draco, Harry and Ron detention for nearly blowing up the whole potions classroom when fighting over the ground unicorn horn, an important ingredient for The Antidote to Common Poisons.

But what you weren't expecting was that Snape gave you detention as well, just because you sat in the center of it. Any attempt to convince him otherwise was useless.

And now here you were, in front of Hagrid's hut, the moon shining bright, the only light coming from the hut and your dim lanterns. You'd rather be in any other place you can think of. Everywhere except here. The sooner it ends, the better.

Yet the three idiots next to you still yelled at each other for what already feels like hours. Not even Filch nor Mrs Norris, who escorted you here after curfew, could bear their stupidity any longer, so Mr Filch knocks against Hagrid's door and runs off with a malicious giggle, but not before wishing y'all good luck, of course. You, for your part, could really need it.

"Can't believe I have to spend detention with you again, Potter", Draco spat, his voice full of disgust. The whole day he'd told you about how Harry and him already had detention in their first year at Hogwarts. That time they were lead into the Forbidden Forest and since you are now at Hagrid's hut in the middle of the night, you can already imagine exactly what your detention consists of this time.

Goosebumps spread all over your skin when you only think of the Dark Forest. Yes, you were sorted into Slytherin but that doesn't mean that you can't be afraid. You were, in fact, scared of many things but going into the Forbidden Forest was definetely very high on that list.

Draco noticed your change of behavior while listening to his story of his 11 year old brave self and suddenly had fun frightening you. Not that you were already scared enough of only the thought to go into that damned forest.

Even though he promised to protect you all the way, you were sure that when they were in first year Draco was the first to run and leave the others for death. But he would never admit that and maybe, just maybe, he actually grew up a little bit since then.

You've actually known him since you can remember. Your families, both pureblood, are very close, they even went to Hogwarts together in their time, which let to you and Draco being childhood friends. So when you went to Hogwarts yourself, you were happy to have your best friend by your side and when you got sorted into the same house, Slytherin, you couldn't have been any happier.

Eventually these long years of friendship turned into something more in your fourth year. (Maybe already earlier, you weren't quite sure.) Neither of you wanted to admit it at first but you were meant to be. Anyone could see it from a far. Everyone shipped you since first year and now, in sixth year, you are a happy couple for nearly three years with just a few minor disagreements here and there.

"Ah. The usual suspects", Hagrid mumbles as soon as he spots you after opening the heavy door, Fang, his over-sized Boarhound dog, directly running in Harry's direction. "I don't know why I thought it would be someone else. Feels just like yesterday that we went into the Forbidden Forest, right?"

Hagrid's mention of the Forbidden Forest makes shivers run down your spine right away. This reaction of your body didn't go unnoticed though and you feel the warmth of Draco's body as he scoots closer to you.

Despite Draco's cold demeanor outward, he has a very pleasent warm body temperature. You found out about this feature when you started becoming 'more than just friends' over the years. And now it is hard to imagine life without this warmth.

"I thought getting into sixth year would finally safe us these kind of detentions", Ron whines which Hagrid only response to with a laugh. "No matter what year you are in, Ron, there is nothing more beautiful like an adventurous walk through the forest in the middle of the night. Trust me", Hagrid smiles proudly. "What do we have to do this time?", Harry asks, also not very fond of the idea to go into that forest again.

Even though you were friends with Draco for so long, you actually liked the golden trio. You don't have much to do with them, only a few courses together, but you don't hate them at all. In your opinion they are actually very kind, which Draco, obviously, doesn't approve of.

"Not much, in fact. A creature was hurt last night and I really don't know which one it is. All we have to do is to find the injured creature", Hagrid explains while taking a huge crossbow, leading you right to the entrance of the forest. "Not very challenging, is it?"

"But you do know that there are werwolves in there, don't you? Besides all the other.. dangerous animals that thirst for our blood", Ron complains, while Draco seems to have laid eyes on the crossbow.

"What weapon do we get to defend ourselves?", he interupts Ron's expressed thoughts and points to the weapon, which Hagrid answers to with a sigh.

"You're a wizard. I don't think you need any other weapon than your wand, Malfoy", Hagrid scoffs and goes past him. "Now. Since I'm able to learn from my mistakes, not like others..", he mumbles the last part. "Harry and Ron, you will go this way. Draco and Y/N take the other direction. Please make sure to not hurt anyone or anything."

"A-Anything?", is the last word you hear Ron mumble as you started walking in the different direction. Or more like Draco pulling you behind him into the Dark Forest.

You tighten your black cloak around yourself as you shiver. The Forbidden Forest seems to be even scarier in the night. Even scarier than you expected it to be in general. The only sounds you can hear are your footsteps on the mud, caused by the rainy weather these days, and here and there something that sounds like a very aggressive raven.

"Snape should have just deducted our houses points and not let us go into this dumb forest again", Draco mumbles in front of you while leading the way, not really knowing where to search either. The dim warm light of the lantern he holds up makes his hair shine bright and is the only thing that makes you feel at ease a little bit. Something familiar.

A sudden crack behind you, sounding like a branch that has been stepped on, makes you stop in your tracks abruptly. "What was that, Draco?", you ask, the fear in your shaking voice clearly audible.

"Don't worry about it, love. I'm sure it was just a stupid animal. Let's go on", your boyfriend responds and takes your cold hand in his again.

As you kept going through the tall trees for a few minutes you realize that you've gotten very far into the Forbidden Forest already. All you can see now are trees and not even the moon shines through the dense leaves over your heads anymore. The thick layer of fog around you doesn't make the weird feeling in your stomach better either.

Draco keeps strolling around, searching for any evidence for an injured creature and you turn around, still feeling anxious of someone - or something - following you two.

Your heart stops as the lantern, that Draco held up seconds ago, falls to the ground with a loud crash. Your whole vision goes black and darkness surrounds you. A few bats, startled by the noise, fly away.

"Draco?!", you shout and don't dare to move a single muscle. Your breath is so slow, you don't even know if you're still breathing at all. Another sound is heard from your right and you turn around, only to face more darkness.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy! This is not funny at all! Do you hear me?!", you yell again while getting your wand out of your pocket. Pointing it forward, you quietly say: "Lumos."

As soon as the light erupts from the tip of your wand, blinding you for a brief moment, a white, light-lit face appears right in front of you.

"BOO!", the face shouts directly at you.

You let out a scream, stumble back a few steps in shock and rest your hand against your fast beating heart. The next thing you hear are the echoing laughters of your boyfriend.

"You should've seen your face!", Draco laughs and throws his head back. You swallow heavily and take a few moments to calm yourself down, a tear on the edge of falling. "I hate you so much!", you yell at him and hit his shoulder a few times as anger replaces your fear. "You know exactly how scared I am, dumbass!"

"I could not not take this opportunity, love", he giggles, making the blood in your veins boil. But before you can scold him any further, he stops laughing all of a sudden and his suddenly widend eyes are locked on a point directly behind you. "Y/N.. Don't turn around, okay? Don't move", he whispers and points behind you with a slight head movement.

"I'm not that pathetic, Draco. I'm not gonna fall for that again", you roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest while turning around. As soon as you did, it feels like all life left your body at once.

Two round yellow eyes, emerging from the sinister undergrowth, are directly fixed on you. A small cone of moonlight falls through the rustling leaves as a slight breeze passes and the creature in front of you turns out to be a werewolf.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as the wild creature comes closer, snarling. "RUN, Y/N!", Draco's loud shout makes you flinch and he grabs your hand, knowing that it is too late to not make any noise, pulling you closely behind him. You nearly stumble over all the sticking out, large roots on the ground but the adrenaline that rushes through your body makes you run as fast as you can.

"Stupefy!", Draco casts the Stunning Spell and shoots it at the creature while running. A jet of red light emerges from his wand but misses the werewolf by a few centimeters. It is now catching up with you even faster than before. "Damn it!", Draco curses.

Your legs already start hurting from how fast you were running. You see a dim light between the trees in front of you and a glimmer of hope runs through you. As you get closer by every second you realize that it's not Hagrid, as you hoped, but none other than Ron and Harry. The confusion is clearly written on their faces.

"RUN!", you tell them, grabbing their hands as you pass them to pull both of them with you. It doesn't take them long to realize what you were running away from.

"Bloody hell!", Ron whimpers beside you and lets the lantern fall to the ground. By now the four of you lost every sense of direction and the only thing that keeps you from giving up is to not get torn into pieces.

Again you take a look back over your shoulder to see how close the wolf has come and in this exact moment of unwariness, you trip over and fall to the ground with a cry. Immediately you try to straighten up but a sharp pain runs through your body and leaves you whimpering in pain.

"Stupefy!", Harry now attacks the beast and actually hits it this time. The wolf falls back a few meters through the air and lands on the ground with a thump, motionless.

"Y/N! Stand up, come on!", Draco helps you up and notices your pained expression. From that moment on your fear is reflected in his eyes. He bends down and frantically picks you up in his arms. Unfortunately, the werewolf has recovered from the spell quickly and is running towards you again, growling and barking dangerously.

But before you can escape this time, another creature that you can't really make out because of the darkness at first, suddenly throws itself on the wolf, fighting a bitter fight with it. You can only stand there and watch in shock.

"Buckbeak!", you can hear Hagrid's voice from the distance and the majestic hippogriff lets go of the much smaller animal, which is now also winzing in pain and then finally leaves you alone.

"What did you do?! How did this happen?", Hagrid scolds you as soon as he arrives, his eyes fixed on Draco immediately. You bite your lower lip to hold back tears as you let yourself sink down from Draco's arms and onto the ground with his help.

"The werewolf attacked us out of nowhere", you explain with a quiet voice and touch your ankle, regretting it right away as you hiss in pain. "It was noone's fault, Hagrid."

"This is exactly the reason why students shouldn't go into the Forbidden Forest, you-", Draco aggressivly starts but you pull on his sleeve, making him look at you. His facial expression softens at your action.

Buckbeak stands close behind Hagrid and observes the situation curiously. Hagrid sighs loudly, his breath becoming visible in the cold air of the night, and pets Buckbeak gently.

"Fine. Let's get you out of here first and then we will look at the damage", Hagrid suggests and Draco and Harry help you stand up again. "I c-can't walk", you hiss after placing your injured foot on the ground, withdrawing it straight away.

"Come here, Y/N. Buckbeak will help", Hagrid waves you over to him and before any second thoughts could cross your mind, you were already seated on the hippogriff's back. While you're still busy with getting comfortable on the creature you unexpectedly feel a pair of hands sneak around your waist closly from behind. Draco had jumped onto Buckbeak as well, with Hagrid's permission of course, and whispers an apology in your ear.

Finally you are able to relax a little while you feel Draco's chest against your back. A cozy warmth emanates from him that has always made you feel at ease and the cold air surrounding you makes it even more comfortable.

With a whistle from Hagrid Buckbeak sets itself in motion and leads you out of the forest, directly back to Hagrid's hut. You had completely lost every sense of time while you were in there. While to you it seems like several hours have passed, it was probably just one.

Draco jumps off in front of the hut and helps you get down, his grip very strong on your hip. You gently stroke over the soft head of the hippogriff and smile weakly at it.

Draco doesn't waste any time and takes you to the warm hut, where he seats you down on one of the chairs and carefully places your leg on his thigh. While watching your boyfriend take care of you so caringly and gently - a side not everyone knows of him - you don't even notice that a few tears finally found their way over your cheeks, which you were able to hold back before. Everything that happened tonight hits you all at once in this moment.

Eventually, Draco's gaze meets yours and he immediately pulls you into a warm, firm and loving hug. "I am so so sorry, love. I shouldn't have scared you. If I hadn't been this stupid, then we wouldn-", he stumbles over his words but you place your index finger on his lips softly. "I'm okay, Draco", you smile at him, even though your ankle doesn't feel anywhere near okay.

"I told Madam Pomfrey what happened and she will be able to heal it quickly, and even though she wasn't very happy that I asked for her help at this hour, she would like to see you at the Hospital Wing", Hagrid tells you as he comes back into his hut, Ron and Harry curiously looking past Hagrid and at you. The guilt is clearly written on Hagrid's face.

"I'm sorry I couldn't help but somehow I just couldn't come up with the right spell!", Ron rants while he and Harry approach you. "How about we help you get into that hospital wing?", Harry offers their help with a smile, which you gladly agree to. Draco on the other hand throws a disapproving look at him, his protective boyfriend instincts very active after what happened today.

Still, he lets Harry help him get you out. Your arms are each wrapped around their shoulders so that you can at least hobble and not have to be carried.

"I will talk to Professor Dumbledore about getting rid of these kind of detentions", Hagrid utters, looking to the ground in shame. Buckbeak senses Hagrid's sadness and lays his head on his arm. Releasing your arm from Draco purposely to tap Hagrid's shoulder soothingly, Draco holds you tightly at your waist in an instant, still afraid that you could lose balance any second and fall again.

"Please don't worry, Hagrid. It's not your fault", you try to cheer him up. "Thank you and also you, Buckbeak." At the mention of his name, Buckbeak turns to you and it almost looks like he actually understood what you said, lowering his head a little as if he would bow.

"I hate to admit it but I guess I have to thank that.. chicken of yours as well, Hagrid", Draco clears his throat. "Thank you for rescuing us."

You know exactly how difficult it is for Draco to thank someone. He rarely does, only because he never really learned how. However, the few times he actually does, you can't help but feel warmer inside. This is what distinguishs him from the evil guys.

With these last words and a nod from Hagrid's side, Draco leads the way into the building and they help you to the first floor, Ron opening the doors for you. You arrive at the Hospital Wing, where Harry and Ron seperate from you and go back to their common room.

Madam Pomfrey treats your sprained ankle and only half an hour later you are dismissed from the Hospital Wing. It feels like you've never hurt yourself in the first place, but Madam Pomfrey still wants you to rest and take care of yourself. Your boyfriend clearly agreed to that and insisted on carrying you back to the Slytherin common room, where you arrived only seconds ago.

It is already so late in the night that not a single soul is in the faint green room, everyone fast asleep for hours in their comfortable beds. You feel exhausted after this eventful night and tiredness is slowly overcoming you.

"Where do you think you are going?", Draco's determining voice asks you with a hint of reproach when you were just about to make your way to the girls' dormitories. "To sleep?", you deadpenned.

"You won't go anywhere except my prefect room. Oh, and you will most certainly not go", he commands and before you know it, you're in his strong arms again and on the way to his room. If the way wasn't so short though, you could have fallen asleep right there in his arms, your cheek on his shoulder and one hand against his warm chest.

Despite telling him that you are fine for the tenth time now, he still insists on taking care of you. He borrows you your favorite sweater of his - although you don't quite understand how it found its way back into his closet because the last time you checked it has been in your room - and softly puts you to bed under the thick dark green covers out of silk.

What you don't know, however, is how much he actually blames himself for what happend tonight. He feels guilty because it should have hit him and not you. After all, he accidentally lured the werewolf into your direction by frightening you. He knew you were scared, you told him before. Nevertheless he thought it was funny to scare you. And now you got hurt because of him.

He climbs in beside you and pulls you closely to him, your arm wrapped over his waist and your head on his chest. He gently runs his fingertips over your delicate skin and through your hair. You feel his steady heartbeat beneath you, softly inhale his scent and close your eyes.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'm sorry for everything", Draco whispers barely audible and places a kiss on your forehead, then another one on your temple. "I love you too, Draco", you absently smile and put your hand on his jaw, lift your head slightly and then give him a kiss on his chapped lips. "And please stop apologizing, alright? It was not your fault."

You can clearly see that he thinks about whether or not to reply but you beat him to it. "Listen. I don't blame you at all. It was a misfortune, nothing more and nothing less. All I need is your company right now. I need you by my side, Draco. Always", you explain and give him a genuine smile in hopes to make him feel better and to finally stop blaming himself.

He replies with an equally genuine smile and gives you one last kiss before he pulls you even closer, as if he's scared of losing you. Still, after your kind words, he actually feels better now and he smiles to himself when noticing your quiet snoring.

And that night Draco definetely made sure you wouldn't have any nightmares at all.

[itsclydebitches]

There seems to be no middle ground with RWBY+, they trust you or they don’t. Some have no chance to “earn” it, but others don’t do anything to gain it. James should’ve earned it a hundred times over. He did so much but it wasn’t enough. What did Robyn do? She tried to attack Ruby and was only stopped by Penny. After that? Yang trusts the woman who almost hurt her sister over the man who gave her an arm, then blamed Ruby. Any wonder I hate these characters so much?

The frustrating thing is that I think I can see what RT was going for. Frustrating because it's the reading most of the fandom falls back on, despite the fact that the show... never actually wrote that story. In short, it's the belief that there's established good and bad in this world and we have a responsibility to uphold the former regardless of personal trust. So if a friend of mine is, say, being a racist asshole and a stranger is not, I have a moral responsibility to side with the stranger, despite the fact that I don't know them, technically can't trust them on other matters, and have little to no emotional investment in them as an individual. You need to take the side of what's right, no matter how hard that is. It's why we get so many heroes facing off against former friends and mentors. "You'd really betray me for them?" they say, pointing to the sidekick our hero only met at the start of the story, maybe a couple months ago in-world. "Yeah," they reply. "Because they're not trying to kill everyone." Basic humanity trumps long-term relationships.

That, as far as I can tell, seems to be the basic setup that RWBY was going for: Robyn may be a stranger, but she's the Good Person sticking up for Mantle, whereas Ironwood may be an ally and friend, but he's also the Bad Person hurting Mantle. Ergo, aligning with Robyn wins out, no matter that she's a stranger and Ironwood an ally. That's likewise why fans are so quick to dismiss evidence of Ironwood's good nature. Things like Yang's arm or the licenses aren't accepted as evidence for why the group should have started with more trust in him, they're reframed as excuses for why critics supposedly want to overlook his presumed, horrific nature — something that the story later made real with him shooting Oscar, killing the councilman, hacking Penny, and threatening to bomb Mantle. Viewing the good Ironwood did as some manipulative temptation the group was right to resist depends entirely on seeing Ironwood as the archetypal bad guy to Robyn's good guy.

However, this attempt failed spectacularly for numerous reasons already discussed over the past two years. Ironwood's actions were never revealed as manipulations. The group continued to work with him, thereby shouldering responsibility for his choices. Ruby actively pushed to complete Amity, despite the harm it was doing to Mantle. Robyn never did anything with the resources she stole, etc. This presumed line between Ironwood and Robyn simply doesn't exist in the text — or at least it's incredibly blurred — so when Yang and Blake run to share intel with her, it doesn't feel like the heroes turning away from the wrong path to back the real hero. We don't understand how resources to build a communications tower are hurting everyday peoples' lives. We don't understand why Weiss can't just go up and plug the hole with a bunch of ice. We don't understand why, if hurting Mantle is such an objectively awful thing, our hero Ruby keeps pushing to finish Amity anyway. We don't understand why there isn't at least an acknowledgement of good intentions here, considering that the tower is meant to save the world from Salem, helping Mantle in the long run. We don't understand why, if the group is so concerned with Ironwood's choices, they don't tell him the one piece of information that would get him to stop. And we don't understand Robyn.

Because here's the thing: it's badly written. The whole Amity debate straight through to the Fall of Atlas is a mess of ill thought out morals, shoddy worldbuilding, and outright contradictions. There's no salvaging that without rethinking Volumes 6-8, starting with the group's response to Ozpin. But all that aside, even if we kept things exactly as they are and bought into the assumption that Ironwood is as Bad and Robyn is as Good as the story wants us to believe... the group still should have at least hesitated to trust Robyn. More than a line or two of dialogue between Yang and Blake. I mean actual hesitation and a serious acknowledgement of the complications here. The concept of trust is now a focal point of RWBY and there's enough material across the entire series to make the Robyn situation way more complicated than just the group going, "We should side with her because she wants to do right by the people." Here I'm not talking about what we the audience know about RWBY's construction as a story, I mean what the characters have experienced on screen. It's a simple question at the core of the trust Robyn debate:

How do they know she's telling the truth?

Seriously, how do they know Robyn is who she says she is? That she doesn't have ulterior motives? That she's not outright lying to them and the rest of Atlas? Everything I've heard in defense of the group's fast-track trust falls short. "Well, she's presented as one of the good guys in Atlas, fighting for what's right." You mean like how Cinder, Emerald, and Mercury once posed as huntsmen and joined Ruby's school, supposedly fighting for what was right? "She's interested in politics. It's not like she's out there attacking them like Tyrian." You mean like how Salem infiltrated a kingdom via Lionheart, the White Fang has likewise tried to worm their way into positions of power, and Jacques is currently trying to steal an election? The bad guys don't limit themselves to just trying to murder people straight out. "But she stole resources back for the people!" And did... what with them? For all we actually know, she put those towards a different, nefarious plan. "But she's so passionate and she's sworn she wants to help." People lie! That was the whole thing with Ozpin! Ruby just lied at the start of the Volume. And, funnily enough, Robyn has the semblance that forces others to tell the truth, but no one can make Robyn do the same.

To be clear, I don't actually have a conspiracy theory that she's secretly a baddie. My only point is that fans were right to wonder if she was a White Fang or Salem agent and our group absolutely should have wondered the same. Take away all the personal reasons to trust Ironwood (defending Weiss, Yang's arm, friend of the inner circle, etc.) and we're still left with proof of his intentions in the form of things like Amity's plans and him continually giving the heroes more power, more resources, more connections, more ways to hurt him if they were to ever turn against him. In as much as you can prove anyone is trustworthy, Ironwood was there. But Robyn? Robyn had none of that work. More importantly, that lack interferes with our "She's doing the right thing, so we need to back her" reading. How did the group know she really wanted to do right by the people? And since that's always hard to prove, what did they do to at least attempt to reassure themselves? Absolutely nothing. Which is why the current writing makes them look stupid. They watched the bad guys infiltrate their school, organize the Fall of Beacon, stalk them, pose as allies, turn on them, lie to their faces, are telling lies themselves... and none of them came up when the question of trusting Robyn was put on the table. The idea of someone tricking them (again), or betraying them (again), or lying about Important Topics even though they're doing the same seems to have, somehow, escaped them.

It doesn't matter what Robyn's stance on Mantle is because the group never justified trusting her word and the story failed to show us (and them) that Robyn was doing good. Literally all she does pre-trust is stand for election and, again, we could say the same of Jacques. If the story wanted to make at least a miniscule improvement on this arc, we needed to see either a compelling reason to believe Robyn is all she presents herself as (for example, Penny could have known and vouched for her), or gotten an explanation for why they'd take an unjustified leap of faith when others haven't gotten one, people who have done much to earn that trust. It's a problem that grew exponentially once Oscar trusted Hazel and the group trusted Emerald, but it has existed since Ilia. As it stands, by this logic, Cinder should be able to walk up to the group and go, "I'm not bad anymore. I actually want to help now. No, I'm not lying :)" and that's that. That's what trust means to them. Taking people at their word ...unless you're a flawed ally who has made mistakes. Then trust takes months to rebuild, or is off the table completely.

Ozpin is not trustworthy. Ironwood is not trustworthy. Qrow saying "Hey" is not trustworthy. According to the fandom, Tai is not trustworthy.

Ilia is trustworthy. Robyn is trustworthy. Emerald is trustworthy. Hazel is trustworthy.

It's completely backwards and Robyn was a large part of that strange flip.

[darkverrmin]

Humans

Jaskier is actually a very powerful fae. And the first time he meets Geralt, he really likes the gloomy, white-haired Witcher and decides to invite himself to his path. Pretty soon he realizes that Geralt mistakes him for a human (which is amusing to him, you'd expect a Witcher to know his creatures well). Jaskier decides to play along with the whole "fragile human" thing, because he finds it adorable how Geralt thinks that without his protection, Jaskier will get hurt.

Jaskier enjoys pretending that he needs to be saved and protected, when there's a monster or some stupid people around. He just loves the way Geralt jumps up in front of him, one hundred percent sure that he's saving the bard's life. Of course Jaskier could break any creature's neck by just snapping his fingers, but he finds the Witcher being protective of him a very endearing thing.

But of course he needs to drop the act, once they're facing real, serious danger. The vampire launches in Jaskier's direction, his eyes black as night and his fangs sticking out of his mouth. Geralt screams Jaskier's name in horror and Jaskier barely has time to react. Also, he wouldn't risk his Witcher getting seriously hurt, it is a vampire. Jaskier extends his hand forward and the vampire flies backwards, slamming into a tree. The vampire scrambles to his feet and tries to attack Jaskier again. Jaskier snaps his fingers and sets the vampire burning in a white-blue flame. The body drops with a loud "thud" onto the forest floor.

Jaskier sighs in relief and approaches Geralt, who's still on his knees by his dropped sword. Jaskier offers his hand to the Witcher. "Are you alright, dear?" Geralt closes his mouth with an audible click, realizing that he is gaping.

"What the fuck?" He asks hoarsely, blinking at the bard.

"A "thank you" would be nice. Are you hurt?"

"What... What are you?"

Jaskier rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated. "Can we not talk about this now? Let's get back to the inn, make sure you not wounded and then we can-"

Geralt stands up quickly, grabbing his sword and seathing it. The Witcher crosses his arms over his chest, glaring. "What the fuck, Jaskier".

Jaskier sighs again, rubbing a hand over his face. "So stubborn, aren't you? Fine," He raises his hands in defeat. "I'm a fae. A pretty ancient one, by the way. There. There you have it. Happy? Can we leave now?"

Geralt is still staring at him, but his expression softens somewhat. There's a minute of silence before Geralt starts speaking.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jaskier shrugs casually. "I don't know... Um. I guess... When we first met, you thought I was a human and I found that fact amusing. I wanted to correct you at some point, but never found the right moment to do it. Eventually, I decided it may be better for you to think of me as human. I feared that you finding out I was a fae would... Complicate things".

The look Geralt gives him is almost fond. "Hmm. You know it doesn't, right?" He asks quietly.

Jaskier gives him a brilliant smile. "I'm glad to hear. And uh... Sorry for not telling you".

"It's alright".

"Good. Now, can we please head back? I promise to tell you everything you want to know, later".

The walk back to the inn silenty, side by side, through the woods.

Geralt breaks the silence first. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did".

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly. "Why did you act like that all this time? I mean, like you need my protection".

Jaskier gives him a small smile. "Because I liked it. You protecting me. It was endearing".

Geralt furrows his brows in confusion. "But you could've protected yourself ten times better than I ever could".

"True. But then you wouldn't be my hero".

Geralt stares at him. "I'm not a hero".

Jaskier chuckles, shaking his head. "Say whatever you want, Geralt. You're my hero. My savior. My knight in not-so-shiny-armor".

"I'm not your hero" Geralt almost growls.

Jaskier rolls his eyes, still shaking his head and increasing his pace. "Humans," Jaskier mumbles, loud enough for Geralt to hear him.

Geralt stares at the back of his head in shock. "I'm not a human, Jaskier!" He protests. "I'm a Witcher!".

Jaskier chuckles again, turning his head to look at Geralt. "You're all humans to me" he says with a smile, winking at him.

Geralt feels something hot rising in his chest and desperately tries to ignore it