#definitly not

[ilona2nerrie]

Mer au JL:

(Btw they haven’t met Bruce yet, Superbat centric.)

Open to any suggestions about others but have only planned Bruce and Clark’s species.

Bruce: Flashlight fish mer. Google those fish, their cuties.

Clark: Humphead Maori Wrasse Mer. Ok. I know the fish is ugly, but it’s large, a reef fish, its colours are beautiful, and the tail type is what I’m looking for. If you goggle it, I pray for your very soul. Don’t focus on its head to hard.

———————————————————————

“Clark, you’re going to miss the meeting.” Arthur said, sighing in exasperation and looking to the other Mer, who didn’t seem to care at the moment.

Clark sighed, looking over his shoulder as he kept his body facing the reef.

“Ok, I get it. But I’ll be there! I just need to check this out first, we’ve had no idea what this is, but someone’s spotted the black thing, can I At least scout it out? Kay, thanks, bye Arthur!”

Clark finished, not letting Arthur start and darted down into the brush anyway.

“Clark! Come back- Jesus.” Arthur mutters, going on about something like ‘arrogant prick’ before going off to Atlantis to take care of himself before the meeting.

Clark swam through the reef, looking to the pad on which the location of the last sighting of the entity was found. 

A few weeks ago, they had started getting reports of a big entity swimming around the reef, long, but people have only reported glimpses of black scales with an iridescent purple and blue sheen.

But every time they came to check it out the thing had just disappeared. But Clark got this notification less than an hour ago, he had time to explore.

And he’d been looking for this for a very long time.

He got to the sight of the reef and begin to scout out the area. It was in the darker parts of the reef, close to where the trenches were. Arthur had said that going down there was basically suicide, and that’s why most mer’s steered away from it.

 He smelt the faint scent of blood in the water and followed it, till he saw that flash of black with the small purple shimmer the water reflected around it. Clark stiffens and takes a breath, before slowly and silently inching out from behind the coral to see what it was. He didn’t expect it to be another Mer.

Most mer’s didn’t have dark scales. Well, reef mer’s. It normally went darker scales the deeper they went. But Clark had never seen black scales before. A soft breath left his mouth in the sound of a ‘hah.’

The other Mer clearly heard him and whipped around, blue eyes focusing on blue.  The other had short black hair and pale skin, blood on his chin from his meal. A whole ass shark lay behind him, Clark chuckled nervously.

“Uh- you’ve got a little, something, on your chin right there?”

The other instantly spooked and took off, fleeing at speeds Clark hadn’t seen in a long time, with deliberation that was a little startling. Clark gave chase, weaving through the colourful coral blurring as the two passed.

“Stop running!” Clark shouted, trying to reach him. 

The other Mer dipped under a pice of coral and speeding to the other side of it. It was a small opening Clark definitely couldn’t for through, he swam above it and looked from above, trying to find the exit to the crevice in which the other went through.

 He saw the other start to emerge and waited till he was put to swim down and pin him to the reef bed. 

The other was very startled when he felt the grab, and threw his body weight back against Clark, turning and managing to throw him half off. Clark grabbed him in a sort of headlock and the other wrapped his tail around Clark, the appendage trapping Clark as the other Mer threw him, then grabbing his neck with a gasp.

Clark rolled over and back to his bearings, looking at the Mer in front of him. He tried to put his hand up in a sort of placation, attempting to calm the other.

“Hey, hey. I’m not going to hurt you; I’m just here to- “

What was he here to do really. It was mostly his job to now take this one somewhere and find out his agenda. If he had one. It really didn’t matter what he said, actually. It was quite clear the other had no idea what he was saying.

“Wait- what’s your name?” Clark asked the other, swimming closer. The other met tried to back up, but his back hit the coral, and he just stared fowrd at Clark. The other mer attempted to scare Clark off him by flashing his scales, in a sort of warning. Clark was entranced on the other hand. He had never seen a Mer do anything like that before, and it fascinated him.

“Woah, how did you do that?” He asked, swimming closer and reaching for the others fin mindlessly. In which he then got slapped across the face by his tail fin. Clark paused, then looked at him sheepishly.

“Probably deserved that, huh?”

Clark hummed, then gently grabbed a lionfish out of the reef. He had interrupted the others meal, and they were an invasive species here anyways. He wasn’t sure if the other would go for it, but when he stretched his hand out in offering it was very hesitantly grabbed the fish as teeth sharper then Clark had seen in a long time tore through the fishes’ scales.

And he couldn’t help but be morbidly fascinated.

“You have no clue what I’m saying, huh?” he mumbled, going to sit next to the eating Mer but got a glare. He inched away till the glares topped. He ended up sitting a good three feet away.

“I’m going to call you Bruce. You can’t understand me either way, I’m Clark.”

Bruce looked up at him, black hair floating slightly around his head like a dark ink crown, contrasting so very much with his pale skin. Eyes bluer than the water itself met Clarks as he tilted his head, pearly black scales glinting as he flicked his tail in mild intrigue.

Clark seemed quite pleased when Bruce’s gaze fell on him in the least hostile way it had in a while. He nodded, pointing to himself.

“Mhm. I’m Clark.” He said, grinning, he pointed to Bruce, who twitched as his face scrunched up slightly. “and I’m calling you Bruce till you figure out how to communicate your real name to me.”

Bruce decided to ignore him for the moment, teeth ripping back into the fish’s flesh as he ate, ever really keeping one eye off Clark. When the meat had been stripped off its bones he paused, then looked to Clark as if offended. He stared at the other, as if expecting something.

Clark, upon realising he was probably still hungry, smiled and went to grab another fish, seemingly unbothered by the nonverbal order he was given. He yanked it out of a hole in the coral and swam up to Bruce, offering out his hand for him to grab it again. Bruce snatched it without hesitation this time, teeth sinking back into the food. After a while of snacking, he looked at Clark, and when Bruce saw it was getting dark, he slinked away before Clark could catch him, into the darkness. The only thing he saw was the outline of the body that belonged to Bruce stop, and flash. As if a belligerent thanks. And Clark didn’t give chase. He had a feeling he’d be seeing the strange Mer again very soon.

.

.

.

.

!!!

Holy fucking shit he missed the meeting-

thanks for the read! next part is out, heres the link:

Chapter Two: Clark almost gets caught. Bruce tries to communicate with him.

Part three linked: Bruce shows off his pup and Clark learns to communicate.

chapter four: Clark finds the family. Bruce needs a nap.

[martaczowa]

[thora-otg-xp]

twins across the years

[mindmushyyyy]

ima dumdemi who fails at both romance and understanding flirtation and shit. the one of my dreams could walk up to me and ask me out and i would be like idk i dont realy like tacos or whatever the fuck.

in fact this may or may not have hapened to me befor and im not totaly venting becase i just relised that in high school this absolut fire of a gall that woulda absolutly my type didnt spend sevral weeks trying to get me to catch on to the fact that she liked my emo ass and im totaly not relizing that this kind wonderful person litterly tryed to get me (who was barely passing the class) to be her tutor the english teacher litterly whent dude are you shur dont miss this opertuninti and shit i definitly didnt litterly over hear there convertation about her being the gals wing man an befor lunch that like thats denfinitly something that didnt happen and im definlitly not sad becase she definitly wasnt like super nice and didnt totaly definitly get me in any way and im totaly not upset at the slightest at my younger emo self for being to mutch of a self absorebed dum ass to do shit about it. definitly not.

[rin-may-1103]

Delilah's Language (part four)

Previous | Master Post | Next (to be written)

The nice female scientist (whose name Danny can't remember) turned and started leading them through the crowd. Dr. Trynul huffed but stuck close, probably to try and find a way to discredit Danny's ability. (The two brothers followed but stayed silent, just watching with, for some reason, confusion AND excitement.)

Damian turned and looked up (not by much, mind you) at Danny, curiosity oozing off him in purple streaks. "You said they used their whole bodies, could you clarify?"

Danny hummed, tilting his head as he thought about how to, well, not dumb down the explanation, but make it more digestible. The kid was smart, but he didn't need a whole history lesson topped off with social science and cultural themes. That would just be a waste of time, especially during a birthday party.

"The gorilla language, specifically the purple-backed gorilla dialect I know, uses a mixture of gestures and sounds. Somewhere between, like, 75/25 and 85/15. The vocal aspect is used to emphasize." Danny began, nodding his head as he thought it out.

Damian frowned, but green fog floated around his head, showing that he was concentrating on what he was being told and not upset.

"So, a grunt after a gesture could mean it's a statement or fact. Like someone saying they ARE going to do something. A chirp after a gesture could mean a question, like COULD I do this? Unlike human languages, gorillas focus more on straightforward and simple communication. They don't really have any reason to stretch out what they want or need; they just need to make sure the other understands quickly and clearly."

"What, they don't talk about pretty flowers they saw?" Dr. Trynul cut in, rolling his eyes.

"They could," Danny hummed, ignoring the condescending aspect of the question, "they like talking to each other when they have nothing else to do, and they're smart and opininated creatures. they like pretty things, I'm sure they do talk about pretty flowers or leaves they saw."

"Sure, and I bet they also tell each other about how they keep their fur clean and what mud makes them look bad."

Damian was glaring at the man, obviously getting fed up with the interruption. Danny would usually just deal with the man and slowly drive him crazy to the point he leaves Danny alone, but Damian looked like he was ready to stab the guy. (Not like Danny would stop him if he did, but like, Danny should do something about it before that happens.)

Danny glanced at the woman leading them; she was too focused on her conversation with another scientist to be paying attention. which was good, because what Danny was about to do and say was true, but he still would prefer to gather more evidence for an air-tight case. Can't do that if other people wanted to look into it, legally.

"You know," Danny started, clasping his hands behind his back while keeping a straight face. "I wonder if your colleagues would like to know that you've been manipulating your research data."

Dr. Trynul whipped around and glared at him while Damian and his brothers slowed down in confusion and surprise. Danny kept walking.

"How dare you accuse me of such scandalous actions? I should report-" he started, quickly speeding up to match Danny's pace.

"Three papers, released to the public and scientific community. Published under a well-known science journal and written by the one and only Dr. Jake M. Trynul." Danny started, glancing at the large glass tank to the right, where a few otters swam by, gleefully splashing around and having fun.

No one but the four people walking with him was paying attention.

"The connection between environmental factors and animal behavior, Gorillas and the effect humans have on them, and finally, your newest paper, the effects of human and gorilla relationships," Danny listed, ticking them off on his hand.

"I might not be a scientist, Dr. Trynul," Danny smiled, stopping and turning to look at the man, "but I do know how to read data and do the math myself. You have blatantly manipulated scientific data gathered by yourself and your team and falsified finds all so you can trick others and, more specifically, your superiors into investing more money and resources into your research."

Tilting his head, Danny studied the man in front of him, who was flushed red in anger and clammy with nerves. Danny hadn't given any evidence that what he was saying was true yet, but the man still glanced around like someone was going to strip his license right then and there. (Which was evidence enough if you asked Danny, no one got that nervous over baseless claims.)

"You might happen to remember that I had been given the opportunity to help your team with researching and studying Dalilah and her family. An opportunity that allowed access to the team's whole process. Which meant I had access to the unedited and raw data that had been collected. Data, I might add, that I had been required to read through and help collect."

"i don't know how you've managed to do this with so many bright minds on your team, let alone get it past so many others, but i'd like to remind you Dr. Trynul, that if this did get out, with all the evidence I do have, mind you, you'd be in some serious trouble. Not only would your license be revoked but you'd face possible imprisonment. fraud, especially on a federal level, is taken very seriously."

The man gaped at him, his mouth opening and closing for a few seconds before he settled on growling at Danny, "You're lying, you don't have anything. This is libel! I should get you arrested for defamation of character!"

"Oh, bless your heart," Danny held a hand over his chest and batted his eyes, watching as the man grew even more furious. One of the brothers, Dick maybe, choked and started caughing.

"First of all," Danny started, holding up a finger, "libel is written defamation. Slander is oral defamation. Second of all, you can't get me arrested for defamation. You'd have to provide evidence that I had intended you or the public harm. And file the case in a state that deals with criminal libel. which I just said doesn't apply here."

"Third of all," Danny crossed his arms, lifting an eyebrow, "I've been collecting evidence for months now. The only reason you're not being interrogated by the authorities and your superiors is that I've been busy with other things. So, I suggest you pack your stuff, go home, and evaluate your life. because I'm definitely going to be submitting my evidence after today."

Well, not right away. Like he said earlier, Danny wanted to collect more evidence. Like, sure, what he had now would definitely get the man in trouble, but Danny wanted air-tight.

Turning away, Danny started walking in the direction their temporary guide had disappeared. Damian and his brothers took a moment but quickly started following.

"holy shit," Tim breathed, glancing back at the seething man. "Do you actually have the evidence, or were you making that up to scare him?"

"I actually have the evidence, but it's back home, so it'll take 'while before I can actually submit it." Danny admitted. now that that was taken care of, he could get back to what he was actually here for.

"Alright, 'nough about him. Y'all wanted to hear about Dalilah and the language." Danny clapped his hands, turning his head to look at the three. The two older brothers looked like they'd rather continue questioning him, but Damian practically lit up in yellow light, all confusion and glee (?) from before disappearing.

"You said they liked talking when they have nothing else to do, do they not typically like to converse?" Damian asked, an almost unnoticeable skip now in his step.

"That's the thing, they talk all the time. They use a more elaborate and obviouse dialect when bored and a more straightforward and instinctual one when busy. It's fascinating." Danny smiled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Oh, there you guys are!" their temporary guide cut in, "I thought I lost you guys. Come on, Delilah is just up ahead. She's going to be so excited to see you, Danny."

Danny smiled, picking up his pace when Damian (not rushed, because the kid seemed way too formal to do something as 'childish' as running) caught up to her side.

Glancing back, the two brothers were nowhere in sight.

Next (to be written)

[underwaterwasteland]

My piece for the @tltfashionzine!

[justaninchident-1633]

To be honest, I thought I had a chance until Max. But this man wins this just like he wins everything else.🫠

[gutterscrouge]

LINEUP OF ALL OF THAT BABYGIRL'S PHASES BECAUSE I CAN!!!!!!!!!!!! Did I buff Wrath? Yes. Would she rip Link in half? Yes. Is it balanced with how silly Incarnation is? Yes <3

Link is there too hes allowed

Palette was from a school work, but it looks so good on her its insane.

[gio-utti]

Easter is long gone but I remembered I have free will and ITS ALWAYS TIME to draw my babygirls in bunny suits–

Happy extremely terribly belated Easter for the ones who celebrate🙏💖🐰

(Or just enjoy revealing bunny clothes like me)

[kellkyy]

"Ghosts" made with airbrush and paper cut-outs

[koszmarnybudyn]

They are having a slumber party.

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

The Prophet spoke, and the faithful knelt

Summary : You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

Pairing : Viktor x Reader

Word count : 3.2K

Warning : Explicit

You couldn't remember the last time someone had looked at you with something other than disgust.

The bumps on your skin were large and deformed, like warts on a toad's back. Dark, unnatural purple spots had consumed most of your body, your veins glowing faintly inside your flesh. Staring at them, pulsating like worms making their way through your organs, still gave you unparalleled nausea. You were the kind of monster little children of Piltover feared in the shadowy corners of their bedroom, and you couldn't remember a time when it had been otherwise

The others like you all lived in small, crummy camps, where the warmth of a teared-up blanket was something worth killing your neighbour for. If the value of human life was close to none in Zaun, here, it was worth absolutely nothing.

A wasteland inside a wasteland.

Most lived off scraps left by bars; there were few other ways to get food. The familiar feeling of hunger digging its sharp claws into your stomach had never lessened. For water, there were only the thick metal pipes, going above to supply the golden city, which sometimes leaked drinkable but rusty liquid.

The best days, the only bearable days, were those where you found half-used needles of shimmer in the trash. For a few blissful hours, you were someone else, somewhere else, and nothing in the world could hurt you. Then it was back to being cold, hungry, and alone.

You had tried to live a semblance of a life, once, when the craving for shimmer hadn't been so all-consuming. But addicts were bad for business: customers didn't like seeing them, with their empty eyes and malformed bodies, and they were a very poor investment for an employer. How many months, or days, before they would abandon their job in favour of chasing their never-ending high?

Then there were the whore houses. One could get a few pieces of copper, if their body wasn't too ravaged by the drug. Damaged goods still sell, but for a fraction of the price. And yet there it was no better either: patrons would come in, use you, and leave, without ever looking you in the eye. Like you were less than human.

But not him.

He looked at you without ever flinching, without ever shying away. There was no sign of disgust or pity in those strange eyes of his, but an endless compassion, something that went beyond your comprehension. As if a simple glance at you had allowed him to read every corner of your soul.

You could have sworn time had stopped the second he locked eyes with you. In the warm amber of his pupils swayed a reflection of pale blue, like sunset on the ocean.

You had fallen to your knees without ever willing your body to do so, pressing your forehead against the cold gravel. It feels natural, almost instinctive, to bow in the presence of a god. For what other word could describe him, his presence, his aura?

Did someone like you, ugly, broken, filthy, deserve to see beauty like this?

A gentle hand brought your face back up towards the sky, lithe fingers tucked under your chin. Soft, so soft.

His eyes were back into yours, the sunset having morphed into a pool of liquid gold. Tears had begun to fall from your eyes, rolling down your scarred cheeks and onto his delicate hands. He shushed you before you attempted to speak, like he already knew whatever words you would tell him.

“It's alright. I will take care of you.”

The digits slid slowly across your face, impossibly smooth, and you couldn't help but nuzzle into the touch, revelling in the feeling of a sensation you had all but forgotten. He softly pushed the dirty hood off your face, hand settling on top of your matted hair. You closed your eyes; whatever this man was willing to give you, be it salvation or judgement, you simply knew you were ready to accept it.

And then, everything became light.

—

You saw him perform miracle after miracle following that day. He brought people back from the depths of hell, which they'd lived in for so long, with the simple touch of a hand. He brought back the smiles, the joy, and the hope all of you had given up on.

To your community, he was everything.

The familiar presence of his voice called for you inside your mind. It was so comforting, having him there, feeling him as a part of you. Knowing he would never leave you, that he would never let you be alone again.

He looked like a statue when you found him, seated in his cave, still and ethereal beyond your mortal comprehension. The gods had crafted his face from porcelain; his body from the world's most precious metals; his eyes from the sun and the sea; and his smile with the very essence of magic.

“Here you are. I was beginning to worry.”

That was not true; both of you knew very well you had heard his voice and were rushing to come to his side. Yet, the idea that a being such as him would worry about someone like you made butterflies flutter in your stomach.

“Herald?”

“Mm?”

He blinked, calmly, peacefully, as his eyes met yours once more. No other feeling compared. His pupils glowed inside the barely lit cave, a gentle and divine light emanating from his face.

The words were hard to get out, and you found yourself fidgeting with your hands, looking away from his perfect gaze.

Get a hold of yourself, you admonished your brain. You had practiced this moment more than once.

You were certain he knew exactly what you were about to ask him; he knew every thought going through your mind, after all. Which meant he knew of the nights you spent dreaming of him, of his body, and of the hundreds of ways you craved the touch of your messiah.

But he simply looked at you, calm and composed, the hint of a smile barely on his lips.

Briefly, you wondered if he was teasing you by letting you stew in your anxiety.

“I have come to realize,” you began unsurely, voice almost breaking, “that you always take care of others, Herald. Always take care of people like me.”

He observed you with that indecipherable gaze, still not moving an inch. You gathered all your courage to stare back at him as you pronounced your next words decidedly:

“But does nobody take care of you, Herald?”

He smiled, properly this time, yet still calm and moderate. It was beyond beautiful, his delicate features marked by soft dimples, the hint of a mole over his lips. You would have given your life in a heartbeat if it meant he would have smiled at you like this once more.

“I don't require such things anymore,” he explained serenely, fingers absentmindedly tracing the complex patterns of his arm. “This body doesn't feel cold, or hunger, or want. It is pure of all the desires the man I once was might have had.”

You swallowed with difficulty; was he rejecting your advances? You could not bear living without knowing you had done everything for him, given him every inch of your being.

“But that man,” you tried once more, moving a timid step forward, “he is still part of you, isn't he? Wouldn't it only be fair to take care of him too?’

There was not a hint of confusion in his expression; he understood exactly what you meant. Yet one of his eyebrows had slightly risen, perhaps of amusement or appreciation for your boldness.

“If you have something in mind,” he simply replied, his thick accent hypnotic, “you should show me.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

You would show him what his gift had meant to you.

Gradually, reverently, you approached the frugal throne where he sat, a simple rock formation at the back of the cave. You kneeled at his feet and gazed up, unsure if you were allowed to touch him. He gave you a light nod, a glim of endearment in his eyes.

With deference, you slid the fabric of his tunic to the side, parting his knees to give you access. You felt your cheeks heat at the realization he had no underwear, trepidation bubbling in your lower stomach. Then you stopped right in your tracks.

Where there should have been… something, there was nothing.

Your mouth opened in surprise, but no words managed to find their way out. You spluttered, confused, gaping at the being above you.

A low, small chuckle.

His luminous eyes were teasing, barely enough so that someone else would not have recognized it; but you did.

“I could not resist to watch your reaction,” he admitted, “My apologies.”

His delicate hand covered the area of his groan, and a faint light shone between the cracks of his fingers. The sound of metal forming, pieces sliding with one another, echoed inside the empty cave. When he removed his hand, it was as if the member had always been there.

As you had always pictured in your dreams, the Herald was well endowed, even in a softened state. It was without question like a regular human’s, but devoid of any veins, marks, and bumps. Not a single hair adorned the base. It was all perfectly smooth, the head only distinct from the rest of the length with its thickness.

He was art, in the most primordial sense of the term, and you could do nothing but admire him.

“This body shapes to my will,” the Herald explained at your look of awe, “It had no need for genitalia, so it did not have any. At least… before now.”

Your fingertips slid timidly on the indigo skin, feeling the polished texture. The contact felt pleasantly electric, like his body brimmed with untapped energy. The first small lick was somehow nostalgic, the feel of popping candies bursting pleasantly on your tongue.

When you wrapped your lips around him, you could immediately tell his taste was unlike anything you'd ever had before. The coppery flavour of metal mixed with something so enticingly sweet it could not be anything other than the taste of the arcane itself. An encouraging hand petted your head softly, fingers threading through strands of your hair. You moaned with your mouth still full of him; a single touch from him was enough to have your core burnt with want. You sped up your pace, taking as much of him in your mouth as you possibly could. The energy pulsated against your tongue, his cock hardening to your rhythmic pace. The thickness of his tip kept hitting the back of your throat, cutting oxygen for a few blissful milliseconds at a time and making you see stars.

It was perfect.

And yet, after a few minutes, you realized something was wrong.

You'd been with your fair share of men and women before. The twitching, the moaning, the cramping of the thighs from the building pleasure and the coming release- it was all absent.

You pulled back with a soft ‘pop’, looking up at your prophet once more for guidance. The same all-knowing visage stared back at you, that boundless compassion he had for all mankind. You understood what was happening, now.

“Herald,” you said slowly, voice horse from taking him, “why have you called me today?”

Silence. It looked as though he was thinking over his next words, choosing how best to explain things to you.

“I could sense you needed guidance,” he finally answered, “Support. I merely wanted to help in the way you needed me.”

Helping you. He was helping you once again. Even now, when you begged him to let you help him, he was still only thinking of others.

“You're not satisfied,” the Herald deduced from your crestfallen expression, “Why?”

Tears of frustrated devotion prickled the corner of your eyes, and you felt like a pathetically pouting child:

“My goal was not to satisfy myself. It was to please you.”

Perhaps you had dreamed it, but a glimmer of surprise flashed in his sunset gaze, gone too soon for you to ever be certain.

“Allow me to try once again, please. I will do better,” you requested, resting your head against his inner thigh, his cock still perfectly hard against your cheek. Looking up at him from under your eyelashes, you whispered your next words like a prayer, hoping it would reach him: “It is all I want to do from the deepest part of my heart.”

The smile again, so slight and yet so luminous. Perhaps he hadn't cured your addiction to shimmer, and had simply replaced it with the profound need of him. A drug you never wanted to be freed from.

“Very well,” he acquiesced, voice low, “you may do it again.”

This time, you could tell there was a genuine look of surprise in his neutral expression when you stood. ‘So he can't tell my thoughts immediately as I have them,’ you reflected silently. ‘I can use that.’

It was without asking that you made your way onto his lap, legs bent on both sides of his thighs. The position wasn't very comfortable, rocks digging into your knees; but he was so close to you that you felt the warmth of the arcane emanating from every pore of his body. The pleased look he gave you at your initiative made you feel emboldened, and you guided his cock to your entrance, lining yourself to slowly slide down on his length.

“I do not wish to interrupt,” the Herald made you pause, thick eyebrows furrowed in slight worry, “or to appear to stroke my ego, either. But I believe it would be wise to… prepare yourself, prior to taking me.”

You looked away in embarrassment, confidence fading, not wanting to reply directly. To explain how you had prepared yourself for him in your tent, in the slim hopes this moment might happen, would certainly be the death of you.

His eyebrows rose back up, the ghost of a smirk on his lips. He understood.

“I almost forgot how prepared you always are. Clever girl.”

You felt yourself tighten at the compliment. You committed the words to memory, engraving them in your mind forever. You would never forget when your Herald had praised you.

You patiently lowered yourself onto him, inch by inch, getting accustomed to him. A little shamefully, there was an undeniable selfishness of wanting this moment to last as long as possible.

When you took him whole, it was almost too overwhelming to bear.

His size was an undeniable component, both in length and girth. You had to wonder: had he been so big when he was but a regular man?

‘Yes’, a familiar voice supplied in your head. Had you not known better, you could have sworn his tone was slightly cocky.

But it wasn't just his dick, either. The flow of energy running through you from the point of your connection was dizzyingly intense, coherent thoughts barely stringing together. It felt like the high of shimmer but unbelievably more potent, simultaneously cutting you open and putting your body back together. This was being alive.

“Breathe,” he reminded you, a guiding hand sliding to the small of your back. Even now, he still took such good care of you. Overwhelmed tears had begun to fall down your eyes without you sensing their presence, and you tried to regain some semblance of your senses.

For a while, minutes, maybe hours, only the sound of your panting resonated through the cave. You gripped the Herald's shoulders tightly, scrunching the fabric of his tunic in your fists. His impartial expression never changed, but neither did the way his hand held you in place and comforted you. Once it felt as though your lungs were getting air again, you began moving.

All of it seemed like a dream; the feeling of fullness between your legs, the slow drag of his cock inside you, the warm wetness of your juices slipping out with each trust. If there was no heaven for sinners, then you had found your own right here. You picked up the pace, settling into a fast and wild rhythm. You scanned his features for any sign of disturbance; the slightest hint of red coloured his pale cheeks, the faintest laboured breath coming from his lips.

So he was still a bit human, after all.

You kept moving with renewed vigour, not able to contain wanton moans of pleasure.

“May I try something?” he asked, voice low, deeper than you had ever heard him speak.

You let out a sound of approval that dissolved into nonsense when the tip of his cock hit the spot you had carefully been avoiding. This time, he moved, ramming over and over against your cervix, too deep for comfort, shaping you to him and only him. You were so close, right on the edge, begging him for release with gibberish.

He had undeniably felt your incoming demise, and with one last push inside your core, he leaned his head forward, bringing both of your foreheads together.

In that moment, you were him as much as he was you, a single mind in perfect balance. You saw everything he saw, felt everything he felt. The weight and lightness of the cosmos, the thousands of strings connecting him to his followers, the understanding of the final step for humanity.

The Glorious Evolution.

And with that, you came, body spasming uncontrollably against his. You fell into the crook of his neck in exhaustion, sobbing, wondering if you had just died in your prophet's arms. Far away, as if he was in another room, you heard his comforting voice shushing your whines, his long fingers caressing your cheek. He looked at you as if you were the one to be admired. Too much, it was all too much.

Perhaps an eternity had passed as you came back to your senses. Things felt tangible once more, corporal, the now cold feeling of your wetness drying on your inner thighs. There was a feeling of awkwardness, of embarrassment, and you hesitated between staying still or pulling him out of you. Were there proper steps to follow after something like this, or any steps at all?

“You didn't…” you commented, unsure what proper term to use to not seem crass.

You didn't cum. You didn't fill me.

“I am not certain that would still be biologically possible for me,” he answered with little emotion, seemingly neither bothered nor frustrated by that fact.

Even if he hadn't been linked to your mind, your disappointment would have been palpable. You had wanted him to experience some of the relief he had given you, to release all that could have troubled him inside you. You wanted to care for him.

Selfishly, perhaps, there had also been the want to carry your prophet's seed so no one would ever question who you belonged to.

“However, to the extent this body can still feel pleasure…” he continued, not missing a beat, otherworldly gaze deep in yours, “you took great care of me. Thank you.”

This time, you smiled.

You would never be a hero for Zaun, a revolutionary, a leader. But you would care for your prophet with every single breath your body would allow.

And there was nothing more important to you than that.

[stoatunquote]

A little late for hermitadaymay, but some Falsies! Actual size under the cut

[shorelinnes]

hyunjin as haku: redraw [ original ] + background sketch

[rin-may-1103]

Turn Back the Frozen Sands of Time. Pt3.

Previous | Master Post | Next (to be written)

Danny remained silent as he followed his mother down the winding halls. Some of her spies came and went with reports, muttering just low enough that human ears shouldn't be able to hear.

Group C was in the south wing, and Group D was finishing up with their task. Mother had something planned, which meant they were right smack dab in the middle of it. She was affected by the time travel, but whether it's she, herself, that came back or she's acting on anonymous information, is yet to be determined.

Danny glanced at Damian again, studying his brother without the pretense of their actions being his own fault.

Just like earlier, nothing seemed out of place, except for the fact that Damian was standing closer than usual. As if he were worried or guarding Danny.

Danny knew Damian loved him, just like how he loved Damian. But Danny also knew that Damian would do whatever Ra's (and Mother) told him to, blindly trusting the man with their lives. (Literally, if his first death wasn't evident enough.) So, obviously, he's worried about Danny, and acting as if he knows Danny's in danger, but from whom and what is unclear.

Mother stopped to converse with another spy, hurriedly ordering them to do something in code just loud enough for both of them to hear. Damian's brows furrowed, but he didn't seem to understand the order either.

ok, think Danyal; Mother is frantic. She's never frantic; the only reasonable explanation was that she knew something, something she feared and was trying to prevent.

Whatever she knows, Damian has been informed of, but Danny hasn't. She's trusting Damian to follow her orders without argument, which they all know he will. But, she's not trusting Danny with knowing the situation; most likely because she believes he'll react irrationally.

Second, whatever, or whoever, caused this didn't do it because of Danny. In fact, they probably didn't even know he was here, or existed. Which meant an outsider, someone not of the league, was involved. (Was it Father? Batman does have quite a few interesting rogues, but what do they have to do with the league?)

which means Danny's existence here, in the past, is an accident.

ok, how can he use this to his advantage?

"Damian," Danny whispered, glancing at another spy rushing up to Mother and hurriedly whispering orders and reports.

Damian hummed, glancing back down the halls with tense shoulders. Yep, he definitely knew something was going on, and he did not like it.

The best way to get information out of people was to catch them off guard and keep them off balance. Best way to do that for Damian? go back and forth between acting normal and completely different. Oh, and doing the most obvious thing first is usually the least expected.

"Mother wouldn't happen to be planning on confronting grandfather, would she?" Danny asked, casually, studying an empty hall. (he remembered spying on her, overhearing her slowly start to question grandfather and what he stood for. It was only a matter of time before she tried to fight him. He just needed to know what was forcing her to do it before she was ready. Before Danny is supposed to die.)

Damian tensed, whirling back to face Danny like he'd been struck, "What?"

"We both know she's been questioning Grandfather for a while now, so it's not surprising that she's trying to usurp him. What I'm confused about is how rushed and..." Danny glanced at Mother, watching as she closed her eyes for just a moment before ordering her people again. "Frantic, she's acting."

Damian blinked at him, his eyes sharpening to study Danny closely. Now to put his acting skills to the true test.

Turning to Damian, Danny kept his body language open. Standing to attention, ready for a quick order from Mother, but nervously fiddling with his hidden knives, and eyes glancing around like he was scared Grandfather would jump out and attack them at any moment. Confusion on why the two of them are acting weird, but not confused enough to make his knowledge of Mother's plans suspicious.

He was Danyal Al Ghul, a Nine-year-old assassin, just pulled from his daily classes with no idea why; Because honestly, what could Mother possibly need both him and Damian for if she's planning on usurping Grandfather?

Damian glanced away, trying to figure out what he could and couldn't tell Danny. Mother most likely ordered him not to (due to his possible irrational actions), but Danny just revealed he knew and is fine with Mother's plans, which means he's not acting as they expected him to.

"Look," Damian started, watching Mother for a moment, before stepping closer to whisper, "I can't tell you right now, there's too much at risk and I need more time to lay it all out without making it confusing. but essentially," he glanced away, this time down a hall, he was lying then, "Mother was informed of some plans that put both of us in danger. Our job is to do as we're told and stay alive."

"Ok," Danny agreed, simply stepping back and turning to watch Mother again. Damian blinked at him in slight confusion, before his eyes widened like he had just realized something, and he turned back to face Mother.

Danny's old plans to be underestimated hadn't worked before, and they'll likely not work now. Which means he only had a limited amount of time to be underestimated before people caught on.

Damian knew him best; he's likely to have already caught on based on the fact that he just looked like he realised Danny tricked him into telling him more than he was supposed to. (It didn't confirm much, just the fact that whatever happened, put them in danger, but also didn't reveal that he's supposed to die in three days. interesting)

which was technically the plan, Danyal wouldn't have questioned anything, Danyal was loyal and didn't question orders. Danny just used one of the most obvious manipulation tactics he's been taught, and it only worked because of Danyal's established personality. Damian is sure to be suspicious of danny's actions from here on out.

Mother was the next most likely to catch on, and considering she knows he's snuck down into the caves to study the language, she already knows something's up. She'll keep a close eye on his movements from now on.

"Confirmation, Ra's is in the caves, but he has more guards than normal. We don't have enough people to take them out, without notifying him of your plans." Spy 1 reported, bowing to mother and waiting for her orders.

Mother's jaw tensed, her nails biting into her palms as she nervously recalculated. If Grandfather hasn't caught on to how strange she's been acting yet, that means he's been down in the cave for a while.

For either of two reasons, one, so he can verbally lay out his plans and evaluate if they actually make sense (which he does quite often, saying something out loud helps a surprising amount when you get stuck on something mentally).

Or two, for a 'ritual'. Or, in other words, taking a dip in the nasty death slime. Whether it's him or someone else is up in the air.

Cool, so now Danny has to help Mother before she gets the three of them killed, because that's exactly what she's doing by rushing into things. Hopefully, Ra's will be caught by surprise long enough for this to work.

"I can get us in," Danny offered, tilting his head innocently to the side. Mother turned sharply and stared at him, calculating if he was being honest. She glanced at Damian with a brow raised. Damian nodded his head, quickly signing later to hold off having to explain.

Sighing, Mother straightened up and nodded her head, "Lead the way."

And wow, Danny was honestly expecting her to put up more of a fight than that. But as the saying goes, don't look a gift horse in the mouth.

Nodding his head back, Danny turned and silently marched down the hall to their left. "I found an entrance a while ago, it hasn't been used in years. If grandfather knows of it, he hasn't deemed it necessary to watch. There are no guards on it like the others. Watch your feet, the ground is very loose."

letting his nine-year-old instincts take over, Danny quietly led the growing group down the halls and into a room. The others stopped, glancing around like they'd never known of the room's existence, which maybe they hadn't. Danyal hadn't run into much of anyone while down here.

Casually, making his way to the back, Danny grabbed a specific book and then two others, making sure to use the correct order. A sharp click, then the sound of old gears filled the room. The others tensed, on high alert at the loud sound.

"Don't worry, the natural twists and turns of the passage muffle the sounds. He'll be none the wiser of our presence," Danny rolled his eyes, gesturing for Mother to go first.

"Follow the marked path, it leads to an opening right above the main chamber. Grandfather never looks up, not unless he's the one in the pit. If he is, you'll have to wait for him to get out before you're safe to move from the shadows."

"How long, exactly, have you been using this entrance?" Mother demanded, frowning down at him.

Danny glanced away, sheepishly picking his nails, "a while."

"Right," she huffed, turning and moving into the tunnel.

Turning, Danny held out his hand for his brother. He had a feeling things were about to get crazy, or crazier than it was right now, at least. He'll just have to use this time to be as close to his brother as he can. (he still really wants to punch him, though; it's the least he deserves for killing him.)

Danny wasn't sure what was going on, or how long he'll be stuck in the past before Clockwork inevitably finds him (and he will, Clockwork would have warned him if this was supposed to happen. the fact he hadn't? Meant nothing good, but he trusted his mentor, he'd find Danny. He always did.) but he'd survive, he'd be fine.

Damian reached out and took his hand, turning to pull Danny down the tunnel with tense shoulders.

Danny squeezed his twin's hand, getting a squeeze back a moment later.

[im-a-hat]

Here's Wind breaking down some walls! :D

Many questions are left unanswered. What did Legend destroy? What's Wild cooking? Will the food still be edible? What did Wind see in the beyond? Can anyone beat him at making faces?

When will I learn to do backgrounds???

We may never know

Next