#even though they are given the least amount of time

[rabbitwitch2poems]

Part 6 based off a prompt by @ready-to-read7

I'm going to keep posting on here as well as AO3, but if y'all think a preview plus a link may be better let me know ^^

  It was a cave... A wet, echoey cave with huge platforms filled with tech and random things Danny's baby mind just didn't have the processing power to deal with. Overwhelming was an understatement to what the child was feeling. But hey, at least there was a cool dinosaur and a giant penny...and a creepy puppet in the back that looked like a mobster... (Danny looked a little closer and noticed some ectoplasm glowing from within but ignored it; that was future Danny's problem)        

 

     "Father, why have you returned so early with Superman, Wonder Woman, and a baby in tow?" The voice was hard to pinpoint for Danny seeing as the giant cave made all noises echo outwards. Thankfully the source of the voice made its presents known by the squeaking of a chair by the giant computer (Danny for a moment wondered why a hero with all the technology batman had would have a squeaky chair, he had to figure it was cause of the cave)          

 

    "I really hope you didn't have another fling" the small boy in a red and black costume said hopping down from the squeaky chair. Whoever this boy was, danger seemed to follow him. This was Danny's first impression based on two things,

1. the kid in a mask had a large sword and what looked to Danny like a thousands knives all over his person.

2. the amount of ectoplasm that this kid was expelling could feed an entire army of ghosts.      

 

     Also, what did he mean by fling? Did this man have more kids? Did he think he was going to adopt Danny? Well he wouldn't allow that! Sure the man seemed like he would make a decent father (he was intelligent, knew what he was doing, and focused on helping people so Danny assumed that transferred towards parentage as well) but if he had to choose a father he would rather Superman be his dad and he would fight anyone who tried to take him away from momma!

 

      "And now the child's eyes are glowing like the Lazarus pits grandfather watches over," this was said so bluntly that it took a few seconds for Danny to even realize all eyes were on him. He tried his best to play it off by smiling wide but he had forgotten how his teeth get when his ghostly attributes take over only causing his mother's frown to deepin. Danny frowned "sowwy momma, will exwain as bewst I can." With a deep breath and a kiss on the childs forehead his mother nodded.       

 

     The time has come for Danny to tell his mother what exactly was going on. He started with the basic of how he chose this world to be in, how he admired the three immensely and thanks to Clockwork (who he explained was basically time itself given a form) he was able to be reborn into this world, though even he didn't understand how or why he was in his core and in the possession of Luthor. He told them how Clockwork watches over the timelines within the multiverse and how he makes sure no deviations that could cause either that universe or the entire multiverse to unravel.   

 

   "So...he is kronos?" His mother asked causing Danny to pause for a second, "huh...kindwa? Nevew awskd... Wait dwos dat mean kwolcwork is my..." His mother confirmed with a nod, "great grandfather, yes my little one; seeing as my mother is Athena." Danny jaw dropped at that, oh he was so going to call CW gramps as soon as he could. Somewhere within the ghost realm CW shivered and turned to look at his mirror he used to check on Danny glaring at it.      

 

    Superman was in full attention to the little child's words while Batman was focusing both on the words and on quickly typing things into his small wrist computer to send to the main computer for later; only briefly stopping to ask questions. "So this realm you come from connects all worlds and multiverse together?" He asked and Danny nodded in answer, "baswiclly." Batman nodded at Danny, his emotions were starting to show more (it seems he allows himself to show emotions more when he is relaxed; as far as Danny could tell) curiosity and some kind of obsession floated around the man like tiny bats of different colours... One of them looked like a bat wearing a disco costume which puzzled the young boy.   

 

     More and more questions were asked, mainly about the ghost realm and how it worked which Danny couldn't really tell them in detail cause even he didn't know. They asked him if he had a name beyond what wonder woman had given him and he confirmed that Danny was his name,   "Last name?," batman asked bluntly, Danny pointed at his mother "hew wast name," it was an obvious answer to Daniel but the smiles on everyone's faces (even batman was slightly smiling though Danny could tell from his emotions floating around he was genuinely pleased) his mother hugged him close and kissed the top of his head causing the child to giggle happily.     

 

   Then came the tough questions, of where he used to live, he didn't remember much still, he remembered a crazy rich guy chasing him and wanting him to be his son, (this caused everyone including the child in red and black to laugh hysterically as Batman scrunched in on himself only to be hugged by superman, calming him down), he remembered a clone of himself that the rich man made to replace him (this caused Superman's emotions to flare with sadness and understanding which made Danny think he had an experience similar to him). They asked if that clone would be a problem and he shook his head, "she twavels a wot and hewps othwers," superman seemed to calm at his words confirming Danny's suspicions.  

 

      "Constantine called you  quote "your highness" what did he mean by that?" Danny sighed, he knew that question was going to come sooner or later. So he explained, he explained how the ghost zone had a rule of battle, where one owns what their opponent had upon defeat and how the last king of the realms, who basically kept order in the entire multiverse, was a tyrannical monster who was sealed away only to be brought back by worshippers. He explained the fight that almost killed him, that through some way and will he kept fighting (he knew it was to protect peopled he cared for, he just couldn't remember who, it was starting to make him slightly mad but he figured if they needed to be remembered they will) and eventually bested the king, sealing him away forever.      

 

     Superman and his momma where trying to absorb all the info but Batman seemed to already figured everything out, "so your people just let you come here?," the man asked and Danny paused thinking how to respond. " Well, yes and no,  vey wanted me to take the trone immedwiantly bwut CW swaid dis was fow da bwest, so fwostbit took ovew as my we...veasion?" His mother patted his head and corrected him "liaison," and Danny looked up at his mother pointing at her with a smile, "what momma swaid."       

 

     After all the questions we're finally asked momma let Danny down to explore, reminding him to be careful of the edges of the platform, "even if you can fly I'd rather you not risk it okay little one? Now go with Damian and let him show you around while I and my friends discuss everything." Danny nodded and turned around slowly marching up to the larger kid. Damian, the kid who had a bird symbol on the right side of his  chest and a red hoodie, looked down at Danny with apprehension, Danny looked at Damian, wearing a cute superman onesie his momma got him, with unblinking, semi glowing eyes and smiled impossibly wide at him.        

 

     The dinosaur was even cooler up close! It looked like one out of the movies and it was robotic. Danny could see some bent parts and wires sticking out of the joints, he wondered if the Batman one day would let him repair it, It would make a great security device, could even make it scare people in the shadows like the hero himself.

 

     The penny was bigger than Danny expected it to be and gave him an off feeling; like it was waiting for him to turn his back so the giant piece of metal could flatten him like a cartoon. Danny stayed away from the mobster puppet, but just over to the side of it were broken apart metal teeth and a strange looking ball with a strange green liquid in it. It wasn't ectoplasm, that Danny was sure; but it was eerie looking.    

 

    The entire time the young child was looking with awe at all the cave had to offer, Damian was watching him (it creeped Danny out) his emotions were as hidden as his father's, but every so often light waves of curiosity and suspicion would make it's way out. After looking at a hat that looked like it came directly out of Alice in wonderland Danny got annoyed at the quiet kid,     

 

   "Why are yew stawing at me?" Danny finally asked staring up at the slightly taller boy his eyes knitted together. The hooded kid looked down at him, "you feel like my grandfather and suddenly appear with one of fathers friends, I do not trust you for now and feel you shouldn't be allowed here so I am keeping an eye on you to make sure you to not plant anything." Danny was confused by every word beyond not trusting him. He huffed, "imma be a hewo like momma! I wuldt dawe to pwant things, even if I cwould thews no diwt to pwant them!" Danny was slightly floating up glaring back at Damian's scowl before being shocked back by a laugh.      

 

   "You remind me of Jon, I will trust you, for now," the red hooded child responded after finishing his laugh. Danny was starting to suspect that anyone related to the batman was as batty (heh pun) as the man was. This suspicion was confirmed when he heard a squeal coming from the elevator located near where his momma and her friends were talking.       

 

  "Superman you had another kid! And didn't tell me!" A girl wearing a purple hoodie (Danny began wondering if everyone here wore hoodies but then figured they were in a cave, was probably a smart thing to do) and basic jeans was quickly walking up to him before scooping him up from the air. "He is such a cutie pie! Hello there small child, I'm Stephanie and I'll be your honorary auntie ok?"       

 

     Danny didn't know how to react, on one hand the emotions of this woman where of compassion and kindness and love. On the other hand a random stranger was holding him and pinching his cheek. Naturally Danny whined, "stawwwwp." Funny enough the person did stop, mainly because another person grabbed her hand. He expected it to be momma or even superman but instead it was another girl who was wearing a black mask shaped like a bat like batman, but with the mouth piece covered with leather lazily stitched over.      

 

   The woman who grabbed Stephanie's hand made a few hand signals Danny didn't understand before walking back. Waves of embarrassment and sadness came from the purple woman holding him; what was her name again? Stephanie? Danny was sure that's what she called herself. "Sorry, I tend to go overboard, thank you Cassie." Stephanie put Danny down and turned to the adults, all of whom had made their way over.     

 

     Danny's mother scooped him up and hugged him, "we will need to work on your freeze instinct but you kept calm, very good my little warrior," she kissed the top of his head as Damian nodded from behind everyone in agreement. Stephanie looked on with wide eyes, "ohhh he's your kid WW? Sorry for being so... Quick to judge..just the onesie... and the floating..." The girl was stopped with a wave of Diana's hand and a small smile, "it's ok, it was a natural conclusion to come to," she responded quelling Stephanie's worry, "though touch him again without his consent and you will be on the floor," and the worry was back again, Danny sighed, his mother could be a tad overprotective, but then again he was a baby so that was understandable.     

 

    To quench his mother rising anger he hugged her neck, "it okay momma, just supwized." That thankfully seemed to help as love radiated from his mother and the worry stopped from Stephanie, replaced by adoration from the display of affection.    

 

   The reving of an engine turned everyone's gaze to the red motorcycle currently parking next to the batmobile as a man wearing a large red helmet got off. Danny's eyes were wide, if the kid in the hoodie had ecto oozing out of him for an army this man was exploding with the stuff and it felt like it was rotting! He wiggled out of his mother's arms and ran up to the man patting his leg, "yew, yew fiwed with bad ecto, I hewp." The man with the helmet looked down at him, one of the eyebrows of the helmet raising (Danny had no time for confusion on how that could work) and crouched down and booped his nose before looking at the adults staring on with their jaws dropped.    

 

    "Who's the brat and what does he mean by bad ecto?," the man said causing Danny to pout and punch him (it actually hurt red a little which shocked him but he made sure not to show it) "not a bwat! Bad ecto from ghost wealm, wotten gween, wepwace!" Danny emphasized this by patting the mans chest and pushing some clean ecto into him. The reaction from hood was not what Danny expected, he was hoping for calmness, mabey joy, or even shock. He did not expect the man in the helmet to fall to his knees and vomit.       

 

     The three main heros acted instantly,  Batman ran over to the mans side expertly taking the helmet off. Superman was gone in a second and by the next had an old butler with water and a box with a plus symbol on it. His mother scooped him up and looked at him with furrowed brows, "Danny Prince you will explain right now what you just did." He had never seen his mom's anger pointed to himself before, it scared him and the child started to cry,  

 

       "I...I ju...juwst w...was hewping, hewmet man had b..bad ecto, ghost enewgy, I wepwace wif good ecto, did nowt get aww, shouwd feew bettew soon."         

 

       His momma patted his back holding him close and humming a tune, "there, there, little one, thank you for explaining, but know now not to do so without asking first, all actions have consequences, what was meant to be good caused a mess to need to be cleaned up, now once red hood feels better you will apologize and we will head upstairs to Bruce's home and have a moment to relax... I think we all need it"

 

*********

 

    Jason's head hurt and he felt like he just had fourth degree burns quenched with water from a glacier mixed with electricity; overall not how he expect his day to end, that was for certain. It had been an overall annoying day to begin with, first he wakes up early from a nightmare about that damn clown only to find out his safe house was out of cereal and coffee.     

 

   His afternoon was  decent, he stopped by some of the non profits he kept safe from bandits and assholes to check if all was going well and to donate some cash (which he may or may not have gotten from a drug den he busted up for dealing to kids) and was then off to the gym where he worked out for a few hours.     

 

     Wasn't till late into his nightly activities that shit went sideways, first black masks goons thought it would be a good idea to try and kidnap some homeless kids on his alley. Then a new crime boss tried taking over his territory so obviously Jason had to hunt him down and take out his goons. And now he is kneeling on a metal platform, dizzy as fuck, his skin both burning and freezing, and his stomach doing more flips than Dick during training.      

 

     When the world finally wasn't upside down he was alone with Alfred holding a glass cup of fizzing water.   "Its ginger ale master Todd, young Daniel recommended it to help with the... 'ecto sickness' as the young one calls it. Apparently whatever helped bring you back to us caused something to stick around."

 

     Jason drank the beverage with gusto as he slowly stood up. Making sure he wouldn't faceplant getting up was dear Alfred by his side. "do you need a moment to yourself? Everyone else will be waiting for you at the dining room area," Jason gave a short nod as he walked over to the batcomputer and sat down heavily, -man Bruce has to get a new chair- he thought to himself as he tried to make sense of whatever the fuck just happened.  

 

**********

 

     Danny had to admit, the house was far better than the cave below it. It was huuuge! A mansion to be certain, one that Danny was sure that if he had a chance to explore; would probably take him days to see it all. Currently they were in the dining room, a giant area with ornate carvings along the corners of the ceiling and a giant chandelier situated above the very long table currently filled with six inhabitants.   

 

     His mother had just finished a long lecture to him about asking before doing anything to anyone for any reason (unless of course they were super villains then all was fair game which caused Danny's prankster of a mind to be riddled with ideas) and the butler (who Danny learned was named Alfred) had just put down the last plate of dinner. Danny was nonchalantly eating a rib, bone and all, when the man he helped walked in.    

 

    He stopped and took in the sight, everyone was watching Danny with worry (besides his mother she had gotten use to this long ago) and coughed , "so .....what's the deal with the kid?" Everyone's head swiveled to look at the man as well as Danny; who stopped mid bite. Bruce gestured to a seat and explained what was going on as Jason went to sit down. "Danny here is a being from a different reality, one that connects all realities, after events that happened to him he chose this world to start a new in. Diana found him as a crystal and when he appeared as a baby decided to become his mother and take care of him"      

 

    Jason looked at Bruce, his eyebrow raised and a snort exiting his being, "well...at least he isn't another one of your forgotten children I suppose, we will have a deeper chat about what it is he did to me, for now I'm hungry and tired." Everyone around him nodded as they all went back to eating.     

 

    After the dinner was finished Danny got to explore the mansion, with supervision of course, red hood took up the task at hand not knowing how hard it would be. Within the first few minutes Danny was alone wandering giant halls filled with paintings and suits of armor. It honestly reminded him a bit of the palace in the ghost zone just less...colourful.       

 

     This mansion had pretty much everything, giant gym in the basement, theater in a side room that could be it's own house, even a room for playing bowling! Daniel realized rich people were a little weird when he entered a room covered in animal heads (a relic long since abandoned by Bruce and family it's still well kept and dusted regularly by Alfred); Danny didn't like that room and so moved on.    Honestly this place has everything a person could need to live a secret life which Daniel guessed was accurate seeing as who's house it was.

 

     Only thing missing was a arca... -holy crap they have an arcade!- Daniel thought to himself and it was huge! It had a vr setup with moving floor, arcade machines of old and new types, and DDR! Daniel was so preoccupied staring at all the machines he didn't hear the man come up to him and screeched when a hand touched his shoulder. Turning around he saw a large man with short black hair that looked like it took hours to get to look right.

 

     "Whoops! Sorry little guy, I guessed you would have gotten mesmerized by this place, Stephanie just loves her games and bruce loves indulging us sometimes," the man said, worry emanating off the man calming Danny slightly (but man, if he wasn't use to having his heart stop as a ghost he would have had a heart attack!)

 

     Slowly he breathed in, his mother taught him some techniques after a hectic tantrum over a toy. "Deep breath in, hold, slowly out" she would say, repeating it like a mantra to calm him down.  The man saw Danny breath deeply and cocked his head, "ya know...for someone who is barely a toddler you are very intelligent young man," Daniel giggled at that and the man smiled, "there we go all calm? Okay well I'm Tim, one of Bruce's kids it's nice to meet you."

 

     Tim gently ruffled the toddlers head, "let's get you back to the adults ok? They are a little worried about you...cept Diana but that's just her normal state of being," Tim stated and Danny nodded, "momma best wawwior." Daniel giggled at the man who picked him up with wide eyes.

*******

       It had been a fun day in Danny's opinion, he got to go to space, met momma's friends, answer some questions, and see a giant house that a man dressed as a bat lived in; Overall a good day. Sure he had to deal with his mom lecturing him again and yeah he felt embarrassed that he got caught, but hey for someone only turning one in a couple days he has had a lot of fun. He was sure he had made the right decision in living here. 

       After dinner his other tucked him into bed and read him a story about a boy who was the child of a god (his mother chuckled as she read it). After finishing the chapter and putting the book back Diana sat on the edge of Danny's bed and petted his head,

 

    "know this little one, no matter your situation , no matter your past, you are my ward, my child, I love you and will always be there for you, anyone who dares to harm you will answer to me."

 

     Daniel smiled wide, tears in his eyes as he held his mother close a warm spreading from both. Slowly the two separated, his mother tucking him back in and slowly  exiting leaving the door open just a crack after turning off the light. Danny slowly drifted away to dreams of his new life to come. 

[gyodragon]

POST GRIFFITH TORTURE RENASSIANCE!!! i keep staring at your art of griffith's broken stare with the bandages wrapped across his face and his emaciated little corpse beside guts...

I read this ao3 fic about his struggle with recovery in an aftermath where he doesn't go apeshit. *offers it to you gently* https://archiveofourown.org/works/609721

it made me think, as a certified griffith expert, what do you think his recovery may have looked like? could anything possibly have still made him happy after all of that... or at least minorly not-miserable? what kinds of things do you think he'd enjoy in such a state?

would he even try to grow out his hair?

The Renaissance that really constricts our hearts!! I remember when first learning Berserk, it was the transformation Griffith has after the torture that got its hooks into me and compelled me to read the series. The rest is history. Thank you so much btw! I've only drawn him a few times but it feels like more in my heart. Thank you for sending that fic my way! (I'm super into gen fic and that is a good one) *Certified Griffith Expert* AHH! That's sweet! I'd like a badge or something after this long LOL. First off, this ask has given me SUCH AN ITCH to pick 'Iron Hawk' back up (my fan project about Griffith being rescued from the Tower early and the aftermath of that. It's my baby) I'm thinking about maybe using a different, more sustainable format by writing multi-chapter fanfiction with accompanying illustrations. But I assume you mean a scenario about his recovery after the canon full year of torture. Interesting. I actually haven't put a ton of thought into that because, morbidly, I have a hard time imagining any outcome after that amount of trauma where he isn't doomed. So assuming this is a world in which he is able to make some progress in his recovery that allows him to regain some mobility and use of his hands, I could see a return of the bandit era. I could see Judeau with his ingenuity and the help of other Hawks working together to fashion him a kind of wheelchair. A Merlin chair wouldn't fit with the time period but you get the idea! Maybe he eventually uses a cane and back brace. He grows his hair out but it never comes back as thick or as long. He shows his face again but rotates a collection of partial porcelain masks to cover the worst of his scars. If his hands heal enough, he learns sign language, writes with the tip of his finger in people's palms and writes with a large pen or quill. (edit: I've recently been totally swayed by your post about him relearning to speak and whispering to his trusted inner circle. I'm SOLD) I think his band would continue to whittle down until only the most loyal remained. The core members who would inevitably transform back into his friends. He used to protect himself from 'friends' with compartmentalization when they were among the thousands of Hawks under his command. I think that Griffith's life during recovery would be hell but he could find happiness in his inner circle reducing to a small group. Like when he was a kid. I think with the deterioration of his body, it could be possible that his mind goes into overdrive. The frail, mute, mysterious general who is even more of a political/military genius. No more White Hawk. He is just 'Griffith' or 'General' or 'The prisoner'. After enough banditry and roaming, the group reclaims a comfortable position in a land away from political enemies. Griffith gives up on his dream and focuses on fulfilling the promise of his vision to just these few people. He is even able to preform Robin Hood-like feats in the countryside. Outlaw goodness, that sort of thing. He doesn't retire himself though. I have a dark outlook. I think he probably satisfies himself with this twilight campaign, sees his remaining friends in positions of security and wealth and when all is said and done he eventually claims his own life. I think Guts is the last one with him when he is finally finished.

[cerealbishh]

"Working with Tamara was heart-work. Every decision we made on set was to ensure our Hawk family was filled with love despite the hardships of our characters." - Morningstar Angeline

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind

[icewindandboringhorror]

Hrmm... put together a roommates quiz finally after years of thinking it would be an interesting idea lol.. Though obviously not meant to be taken super seriously, I just like thinking about this aspect of personality compatibility. Like yeah, maybe you could get along with someone just chatting with them, but living together is such a different thing. .. curiouse...

[kalinara]

To be fair to Logan and his fans, I think this is where the popularity of the character works against him. Not because the fans, or even the writers necessarily, are resistant to change so much as his over-saturation makes change really hard to execute.

Don't get me wrong, I wish I got half the content Wolverine fans get for MY favorite. But I think there's a downside too.

He and Scott kind of are on opposite sides of the spectrum, I think. Scott gets to be an unusually reactive character, because he's generally only in one book at a time. There might be a guest appearance or crossover here or there. Maybe a big event. MAYBE, he'll get to appear in a second book in a very specific role (like how he appeared often in Krakoa-era Cable comics, specifically as "Nate's dad".), but generally, every thing major that happens to the guy is in one book at a time.

So the writers can take a certain amount of liberty. As long as the character's reaction makes sense given the context, and the trajectory is logical, they can go the route of X-Factor's near-breakdown, or Utopia's grey general, or the post AvX martyr revolutionary, and it works.

(I remember reading that Mark Waid actually had to push hard for permission to use Scott in Champions. I'm very glad he did because that gave us a brand new avenue of characterization for the character - we've really never seen ANY version of Scott in that role: not the leader, broader universe focus, dealing with issues that aren't mutant related at all. But it definitely sounded like anyone who wasn't Mark Waid would have been told 'no'.)

On the other hand, Logan is everywhere. And in some ways, that's a good thing. I celebrate Champions for giving us a brand new context for Scott and letting him interact with characters and sides of the Marvel Universe he never would ordinarily. And Logan gets that ALL THE TIME.

But, when you're dealing with at least one X-Team book (and often more than that, like the time he was running X-Force too), one solo book, often an Avengers book of some time, appearances in more global types of crossovers because of said appearances in Avengers, limited miniseries featuring less common team ups - or Deadpool again, and so on and so forth, that creates other challenges.

Even if one book decides to give Logan a truly character changing experience - there's no guarantee that it will be reflected in any other book. It might not even be feasible if we consider how delays and publication difficulties might affect when the books come out. And what if another book gives him a truly character changing experience in another direction?

How far apart can these character variations go and still be the same character, in the same general continuity. (Obviously things like Ultimate Wolverine or whichever AU is happening right now are different entirely.) He's basically stuck in the most recognizable, iconic version, so he can be slotted anywhere and casual fans of the Avengers won't be utterly boggled as to why Logan's suddenly embraced pacifism or whatever.

The poor guy is pretty much doomed to hypocrisy: he can hate sending kids into battle, until he's on a different team with teenagers, or until he's mentoring another kid who ends up in battle. And he's doomed to be a neglectful father/father figure, since anyone and their mother like to add new people to his backstory. And so on.

I suppose you're right about Logan and the kids. Hell, they might have HAD to kill him, if you think about it, since that would be the one situation that would genuinely and realistically spark a pronounced change in behavior that they wouldn't be able to execute going forward.

I'd still like to see Jean madder at him though. I have a list of things I wish Marvel had let Jean get mad about. :-D

Cyclops mourns Logan

Pretty sure he's dated more psychics than that

They really called it Cyclops in YOU. Hell yeah. Anyway, Logan is dead. Scott, unaware that he's in a comic book, is treating this event as if it's forever. Lucky for us, because their messed up relationship is like crack for me. He considers how Logan was his most complicated relationship, and that's a lot coming from him.

There's definitely resentment there, because Logan was and is a selfish jerk. It's refreshing honesty, and very Scott Summers. He's remembering all the different ways in which Logan made his life harder, acted like a creep, or spited him needlessly, yet Logan's death is keeping Scott up at night.

I love this flashback to after the Dark Phoenix Saga (I think) and it makes pretty clear that Logan transferred his idealisation from Jean to Scott. Scott is standing at his wife's grave and somehow Logan manages to make literally everything about him. At least he acknowledges his grief and says 'sorry for your loss.' Wait, no that doesn't happen actually. The bastard just tells him he's not allowed to quit because of his psychosexual obsession. I wonder what Scott is thinking as he walks off. An optic blast in the back would be somewhat justified (and funny) but Scott usually has better self control than that.

He considers the aftermath of Fatal Attractions, when Magneto performed field surgery on his bones. Logan definitely wasn't used to not being immortal and the apex murderer. His recovery was long and his whining intense.

Is Scott biting Magneto there?

Scott approaches Logan as he's punishing himself in the Danger Room and echoes his words back to him, offering him a hand up. He remembers the heartwarming threats and the good times shared together fighting for their lives. Brothers in grief and violence, rivals who are simultaneously paternal figures to each other.

Scott is very prone to blaming himself for things going wrong, and Logan was always there to remind him. I don't think he's being fair on himself but he never really is. Blaming Scott for things is an X-Men sport. He repeats Logan's insane words for a third time - 'we don't get to quit.' Scott cries in the snow on all fours outside the base where Logan was repeatedly tortured and dehumanised, but he doesn't quit.

Scott imagines what Logan's funeral would be like, and he's not far off. He thinks hard about an appropriate way to honour his memory. The answer is obvious - alcohol and violence. I have no doubt Scott knows exactly where every mutant hater watering hole is, but it's funnier to imagine him wandering around until he finds one.

Proving he knows him pretty damn well, Scott sends Logan off by beating the shit out of some bigots and drinking over their unconscious bodies. 'Here's to you, bub. See you in a year or so.' Cyclops is pretty famous at this point, so these dudes probably know exactly who he is. They'll be telling that story for a while, of the time they were drinking and hating on mutants then Scott Summers came out of nowhere to fuck them up. Logan wouldn't be proud exactly, but he'd probably grunt and call him bub. That's practically 'I love you' from Logan, and Scott loves his dumb ass too.

[autumnrory]

i figure they’ll drop it in a few eps like they have with everything else but it would be a little funny if after all the barchie vs varchie shit that they just made beronica endgame

[nexus-nebulae]

another childhood bucket list item obtained: i finally have a snuggie

[bigironjuliette]

Realizing there are things Wrong With Me

[reblogandlikes]

Dude, yes! I've been bored and while thinking during the read, I've literally had the same thoughts too about the potential jealousy in ruling.

Because Tamlin’s dad/court involvement in the war was sided with hybern to keep human slaves. And the way lesser faes are treated generally, I'm sure they fared no better when the slaves were gone. Tamlin grew up in a type of cruelty Rhysand never did (Illyria would have its challenges too, but he was still given special treatment even then when to comes to access to recourses and comfort) from the small amount of information offered.

Tamlin and Rhysand develop a friendship somehow and both had ideals for a better court. A better rule. And yet, Tamlin, as unprepared as he was, was able to turn Spring around, even if it meant getting rid of the previous governmentwho held onto the old ideals. Tamlin's citizens respected and cared for him as he did them. He made Spring the reality he wished it to be, albeit it's not perfect, but compared to other courts, more free and accepting and honorable. It was safe.

And then theres Rhysand with Velaris. The one thing him and his stans loves to harp on, yet I will forever shout that Rhysand didn't create shit. He inherited Velaris; the place that has been unknown and hasnt seen war since its inception (until recently). He doesnt get a pat on the back for that and when all he's done is maintain the status quo. Even replicates the same abhorrent behaviours he claims he's against to secure the image of big bad NC, but no, sorry, thats his "mask". I'm sorry, but how can his "mean" court change if they see him doing the exact same thing as them? They're all just locked in a perpetual cycle of violence because they're forced to adopt to it or die. He offers nothing else. He inspires nothing but degenerative behaviour and so they themselves continue, too.

He loves to claim he's the most powerful with the strongest Illyrian’s (Cassian and Azriel) by his side, his Truth wielding cousin (what is Mor's power, though?) and a literal other worldly creature, yet dude can't actually enforce wing-clipping, doesn't control the Illyrian’s nor the Darkbringers? He's never thought of making a Velaris 2.0 but in the open where all faes that are willing for more and better can live? All that power and dreaming, yet it all falls flat? Yet this random third child raised to only fight has succeeded in ways he couldn't have imagined?

Yeah, no wonder he didn't care is Feyre manipulated Spring during a delicate and complicated time. Seeing Spring fall and fail displays Tamlin’s "faults" and "poor leadership" while giving Rhysand a upper hand in comparison, because at least his court hasn't crumbled and now he can revel in having one upped Tamlin.

Bro, just say you're jealous, insecure about your image and miss your could-have-been ex and move on 😂 So much things could have been explored in any direction, yet it's not. Gosh, the absolute potential this story could have had if it wasn't so spoon fed and surface levelled. Ugh, I weep.

I know this is by no means a new take (especially here on tumblr) but I'm of the very strong opinion that as written, the Acotar series actually provides a lot of evidence that most (if not all) of Rhysand's actions are in some shape or form always about Tamlin. Even his relationship with Feyre is about Tamlin.

A lot of people hold up Acomaf ch54 as this super romantic turning point for Rhys' character, which is incredibly funny to me because to me it only ever cemented the unfathomable levels of homoerotic obsession Rhysand has for Tamlin.

He admits that during Acotar he convinced Amarantha to let him go out of Utm to check on Tamlin and the Spring court, where he then left a decapitated head branded with the Night court symbol, like some weird bat shaped cat.

He also visits for Calamnai. (What are you doing here on the spring sex festival night, Rhysss?!? He isn't going to pick you!)

Obviously his meeting with Tamlin in Acotar is a classic for any Tamsand fan, his voice is a "lover's caress," he demands Tamlin call him Rhys instead of Rhysand for old times' sake (???!!), he threatenes Feyre‘s life to make Tamlin get on his knees and specifically fixates on her sexual thoughts about Tamlin.

When he kisses her utm to cover up Tamlin‘s scent, she also weirdly remarks on the fact that Rhysand can still taste Tamlin, which... is quite the odd thing to point out, if I'm meant to believe he is only interested in Feyre.

He also has literally admitted, to Feyre herself no less, that his weird roofy lapdance humiliation of her utm was specifically to upset Tamlin.

It just screams of "if I can't have you than I'm going to make your life miserable and steal your girl" behavior.

All his posturing in front of Feyre, presenting himself as the most powerful HL, the prettiest, the best and most just ruler, etc just comes across as him desperately trying to prove how much better he is than Tamlin, which obvs was intended to make him appear more attractive as the new love interest, but quite frankly it just seems kinda pathetic (I mean this affectionately, especially in the context of Tamsand. But eve beyond the ship, I just really adore pathetic fictional men).

Even in Acofas, he cannot stay away from the Spring court, he claims he needs to go there for diplomatic reasons, but he literally has courtiers? He has send both Cassian and Lucien on diplomatic missions before? Why would he personally need to go?

But, when he meets with Tamlin, he tells him that being with Feyre (his mate and supposedly love of his life?!) isn't enough, and he tries to goad Tamlin into a fight. (He wants to wrestle him so bad it makes him look stupid fr). When Tamlin doesn‘t respond like Rhysand hopes, he gets disappointed and dejected. Later, he returns and cooks Tamlin food, an action that has been explicitly romantically coded in this series...

Also, as a side note throughout that entire interaction, Rhys' internal monologue can't shut up about how green Tamlin‘s eyes are.

I'm hyper critical of the Acotar series and Sjm on the best of days, I don't like how Rhysand's character is written at all. But reading him as the most egregious case of a closeted gay guy channelling all his surpressed feelings into being the most toxic ex might be the only way his character writing can be redeemed for me personally (unfortunately Sjm is too much of a coward to ever purposefully write this).

I know its never gonna happen in canon, but to me the perfect resolution to the series would be Rhysand and Tamlin resolving their gay rivalry and finally getting together to live out their thruth as the disaster couple they were clearly meant to be. While Feyre and her sisters get to go off and be free from the clutches of all these toxic men.

[vogelmeister]

anyways i am feeling kinda brave today so im gonna share a potentially unpopular taylor swift hot take. when i was talking to my friend yesterday about ttpd i realised that i kinda have a similar problem with the anthology as i do with evermore.

like don't get me wrong, both have absolute gems (willow, tolerate it, long story short, gold rush and NBNC from evermore are great and i love the albatross, so high school, the prophecy black dog, manuscript etc) but i think both collections (bc anthology is not an album) suffer because they came out connected to a much superior more cohesive work, and both almost feel like rejects from the body of work that proceeded it.

[winnie1emon]

✧.* now what happens when you find a frustrated theodore nott on the quidditch pitch...?

theodore nott x prefect!lamb!reader (fem pov)

word count: approx. 2.4k

cw: MDNI!!, smut, dom!theo, innocent!reader, sexual language, praise, piv, fingering, unprotected sex, face painting lmao, slight exhibitionism(?)(on the quidditch stands lol)

a/n: first smut fic like ever i fear... don't bully please </3 + been working on this sleep-deprived, lmk about spelling mistakes :(

"Hey- hey!" you said loudly over the raging music, leaning over your friend's shoulder. "I'm gonna go; got prefect duty!"

Your friend, too engrossed in your house's quidditch victory party after they had beaten Slytherin earlier that evening, gave you a mere nod before realizing you actually said something. "Really? There are other prefects out anyways and you never find anyone. Don't be lame, just stay!"

"No, it's fine. I like walking outside anyways, it's fun," you explained, garnering a rather dismissive wave goodbye from your friend.

You trudged down the corridors searching for the way out of the castle. Curfew was approaching and you were given the task of finding a few stragglers outdoors; a task you most appreciated due to the fact you'd never find anybody and you were usually lucky with receiving ample amounts of good weather.

Too comfortable with the usual, you spent most of your patrol time frolicking on the grassy fields and never looked too carefully for any students. You were about to head back inside when you saw the broom shed's door open. Curiously, you peered inside and nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary...

A bit daunted, you closed the door and suddenly saw movement in the corner of your eye. You whipped around quickly, seeing someone flying on the quidditch pitch. You made your way into the pitch, assuming it was some overzealous lowerclassman riding on their broomstick.

As you made your way into the pitch, you realized how large it really was, somewhat awestruck. Hearing a distressed grunt, you turned around and saw the person who was flying, quite a distance away, chuck their broom onto the ground. You hastened over and the image came into view. Their brunette waves became clearer with each step you took and you managed to get their attention.

"H-hey!" You waved. You came to a stop in front of them, slightly huffing as they looked at you acutely. "Theodore, it's curfew in like... oh, two minutes ago."

Theodore raised an eyebrow at your words, seeming as if he had no idea who you were. "What?" he asked you, even though he heard what you said.

"It's past curfew, you can't be here," you said patiently. "What are you even doing here?"

"What's it look like?" he retorted. "Practicing," he added before you could answer his rhetoric question.

"Well... you should practice tomorrow. You already had that game today, you should take a break," you suggested.

He gave you what was probably the most condescending look ever, roaming over your figure. "Yeah, and we lost, princess. Need to practice."

"Don't overwork yourself," you said, your voice tinged with concern. "You were great today, I saw!"

"Mhm, probably cheering on your house, yeah?" he sneered. "Just get lost, I'm not harmin' anyone by practicing, but you're going to tell someone aren't you?" He looked a bit taut and you couldn't help but feel a bit of pity for him. After all, he wasn't the worst player on his team yet he was the only one here practicing, probably losing hairs in the process.

"No, I won't tell anyone," you said quickly. "You look exhausted though. At least sit down." You trailed all the way to one of the tall wooden towers going up to the quidditch spectator stands, feeling the wooden bench poke your thighs. Surprisingly, he sat beside you on your right with a grunt, running his hands through his hair.

Well, now what.

You peered at him in wonderment as his gaze was set straight, admiring his birthmark. Your eyes trailed around the side of his face, looking at his thick, dark brows and then at his slightly unkempt hair. He turned suddenly to face you and you darted your head away, embarrassed. He let out a small scoff, throwing his head down in a smirk.

"So," you started. "You like quidditch?" you asked dumbly. He obviously did... he plays.

"I do," he responded. "When we win."

"You guys almost did," you consoled him, tentatively reaching to rub his shoulder.

Theodore didn't protest, finding the way your palm's touch warmed his shoulder unexpectedly comforting. He looked at your seemingly apologetic face before his eyes wandered down your form, going from your neck and then down to your legs.

"Mm, almost."

Fidgeting with your fingers, you spoke up again. "Yeah, almost! Almost is good!" You reassured him. "Don't beat yourself up-- you're already so stressed." You recalled the instances in class where he'd focus on his work, the times you saw him in the library as you patrolled the halls, and the way he never seemed to hang out with his friends this past week.

"Oh princess," he said, calling you that nickname again, making you turn a light shade of pink. "When has almost winning ever helped anyone? What can I do about the stress? Nothing's going to change if I don't work." He gave a nonchalant shrug, breaking contact with your sorry eyes as he buried his head in his hands.

"Uhm... I mean, do you want help?" You peered at him, wide-eyed and full of pity.

--------------------------------------------------------

And that's how you found yourself sitting on the open quidditch stands, thighs squeezed together with your head downcast as Theodore rubbed lazy circles over your underwear.

"I-I don't really see how this is supposed to help you," you mumbled.

He used his other hand to hold your chin gently, guiding your head to face him. "You think seeing a pretty girl like you lookin' like this doesn't help me?" he simpered. You felt your face heat up from the compliment, shifting your thighs to press against each other some more.

He let go of your chin and you looked down to watch him spread your thighs apart gently. Despite never being his friend, his touch felt familiar, even soothing. In fact, you didn't protest against him, even when you felt him slip your underwear to the side and insert a thick finger into your cunt.

Your mouth agape, you turned to look at him, brows knitting together as he met your gaze with a lascivious smile. You pressed your lips together to try and catch your breath, but it only lasted a few seconds as your lips parted once he entered another digit into you. He moved slowly, not taking his eyes off of yours, drinking in your dazed look.

You felt his pace increase, his fingers going in and out of your now glossy cunt rapidly, and let out a shaky moan which made Theodore's mouth contort in a wicked smile. You threw your head back, looking up at the greying sky. He leaned closer to you, his warm breath hitting your ear as he whispered.

"Feels good, yeah? Feels good to help me decompress hm?" He asked you quietly, having you squirm from his touch. You nodded meekly and let out a small yeah in response.

You had never experienced anything like this before. You were sort of scared, but also excited... maybe a bit confused? ...happy to help?

His touch eventually slowed, his two now-soaked fingers leaving your cunt as he held them up in front of you. Your eyes followed his fingers, your face turning into that of surprise as he brought his fingers into his mouth momentarily.

"So sweet..." he breathed out. "Come on, open up," he slapped your cheek lightly with his clean hand.

You opened your mouth slightly, your eyes looking reluctant.

"Come on, don't be scared," he cooed. You opened a little wider and he gently placed the two fingers on your tongue. You swirled your tongue around slowly, tasting sweet, kind of salty as well, but you weren't sure if that was you or his fingers. Taking in your appearance with his fingers in your mouth, he gave a breathy chuckle. "Cute."

He stood up from the bench with a sigh, taking a step in front of you. "Just one more thing, that okay?" he asked, the corners of his mouth curving into a smile.

"Yeah- yeah sure," you agreed. Even though you were unfamiliar with what you guys were doing, you were just glad you could help him out in some way.

"Good girl. --Has anyone told you how sweet you are?" He leaned forward slightly and cupped your cheeks to tilt your head upwards as you stayed seated on the bench.

"Some people, mhm," you nodded.

"Well, they weren't lying." He complimented you casually, making your stomach lurch in an oddly pleasant way. You adverted your gaze so you could soak in his compliment, your head then snapping up at the sound of a zipper. He gave you a wink that you'd be thinking about for the next week and a dazzling smile that you couldn't protest against.

He guided your legs up off the ground so you'd be kneeling on the stands bench and turned you around, having you facing opposite of the center of the quidditch pitch, towards the castle. Your eyes widened from the circumstances, the risk of being so exposed. You heard him shuffle a little behind you, the sound of his pants going down, boxers following.

You felt one of his cold fingers brush against your skin as he pushed your skirt up, making you shudder. He pulled your sodden underwear down and you heard him take a sharp inhale. His fingers ran over your folds, eliciting a groan from him. "You're so wet... n' you've never done this?" he asked you.

You shook your head, making him sigh.

"And you really want to give this to me?"

"Yeah, I do," you muttered quietly. You didn't care that it was Theodore, you just saw him as someone who needed some help and you were going to give it to them... Oh, who were you kidding? Of course you cared that it was Theodore. The Slytherin that you'd always catch yourself ogling at during the quidditch games, the one you'd stare at in potions, the guy you'd hold the door open for before Charms class.

Seeing no reason to delay his pleasure, Theodore positioned himself between your legs, holding your waist from behind as he pushed the tip of his cock into your ready cunt. You couldn't help the large gasp you let out while he stretched you out. You tried to recuperate momentarily, but he continued to enter you slowly, feeling as if there was no end.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he murmured. He slid in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace over time before you started to let out involuntary moans.

"Theo- Theodore," you huffed out, almost whining. "The castle-- someone could see us," you worried.

His pace becoming incontinent, he brushed off your concern with ease. "No one will, okay?"

Even with his reassurance, you couldn't help but feel sheepish, your anxiety spiking as the thrill got to you.

"Oh my g-god," you moaned. Theodore leaned into your back, head resting on the nape of your shoulder. He snaked his arm on your other shoulder, putting you in a headlock. You brought your hands up to hold his arm, your mind going blank as he started up a relentless speed on you and had his other arm travel down to rub on your clit.

"Shh, shh," he whispered. "Now they will see us if you don't quiet down, yeah?" You nodded in agreement, understanding that you mustn't be loud. After a few minutes of biting back your moans as he drilled into you, he positioned you to lie on your back, on one of the benches. You complied and allowed him to reposition himself into you.

"F-fuck!" You mewled, unable to contain yourself in the new position.

"Shh, shh, shhh..." he shushed you once again, covering your mouth with a large hand as the other held both of your legs against his chest. "Be quiet for me, okay? You can do it," he murmured into your ear, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

You nodded slowly as you looked up at him when he pulled his head away from you. "Good... so good."

So entranced by his eye contact, your brain drowned out the sounds of his cock going in and out of your sopping cunt, forgetting all about your precarious surroundings.

You felt the knot in your stomach begin to unravel and you knew that your orgasm was nearing. You clawed at Theodore's hand that was on your mouth and he let go, allowing your ragged gasps to float out into the air.

"You okay?" he asked you. "You close?" He couldn't help but smile endearingly at your state, horribly disheveled, biting your own lip to keep yourself from attracting attention.

"Mm," you nodded weakly, feeling your legs begin to shake. As you came undone, you felt him slow down, letting out groans of his own. You bit down on your lips harder and you could feel tears creeping into your eyes as you felt overloaded with sensations. He pulled out of you with a light pop and stepped towards your head.

He had his cock a few inches above your face and looked hesitant before asking, "May I?"

You honestly weren't very sure of what he was requesting, but you let out a soft yeah, being surprised once he spilled onto your face.

Your lips parted into an o-shape as you squinted slightly. After one last drop, you ran a finger on your cheek, observing the mark he left on you trailing down your finger. He dropped his hands to his side and crouched down to be face level with you. He cupped your face with his hands as he ushered you to sit up.

"You're a sweetheart, so nice of you to help," he praised. Even though he had just done things to you that you'd never even been brave enough to imagine an hour prior, you couldn't fight back the bashful look on your face.

"Of course," you whispered. "Do you feel better?" you asked, pulling your underwear back up.

"Yeah, yeah I do," he chortled. He leaned forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

You saw the sky darkening by the second and looked out the pitch. "Oh! Someone's coming!" you exclaimed.

He gave a mischievous smile that you could stare at for days, planted a quick kiss on your lips, and grabbed your hand to stand you up, brushing ur skirt down to cover your behind.

"Then let's go."

―――――――――ʚ♡ɞ―――――――――

[i2sunric]

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 (l.hs)

PAIRING: demon!heeseung x angel!reader (f)

SUMMARY: in a world where you either become angels or demons in the afterlife, heeseung and you were fates of high ranking. despite all the strict rules cast upon you, you two couldn't help but drown in the forbidden feeling of your love.

WARNINGS: kinktober. frforbidden love, mentions of blood and wounds, angels and demons, lucifer and God (i do not intend to offend anyone), sexual tension, smut, dry humping, making out, missionary, this is basically love making, cream pie, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!) fluff, pet names (angel, baby), bad jokes abt heaven and hell (lame ik), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 26th October 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @mitmit01 @lost-fantasy @annoyednblax @j1sb4e @eneiyri @strayy-kidz @victoriasvz @farashawhee @mheretoreadff @hazycottagedreams @kxppachu @rayofsunshineeee @moon368 @punchbug9-blog @strxwbloody @starggukies @wonbonie @304files @ethelia @moonpri @chuckychangmin @roslayy @cyjhhyj @iamliacamila @lanpanaz BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED

NOW PLAYING: MATCH MADE IN HELL by Dutch Melrose and benny mayne

a/n: honestly (yet again) i don’t really like how it turned out, lol. the smut is mid and isn’t very filthy but hey, i tried. please lmk your thoughts and REBLOG to spread 🫶🩷. i’m not sure i’ll publish my other kinktober works (vampire sunghoon and werewolf jay), cause i won’t be able to finish them on time.

In a world where in the afterlife you become either angels and demons, based on the amount of sins one commits in their previous life, you were the wisest angel.

Of course, being God’s right arm didn’t always mean having cool jobs, like at that moment, while you were searching through all the death certificates of your chosen region to see who would become an angel and find him a place in heaven.

You remembered how it used to be overcrowded, but now it was almost empty.

After a certain amount of time, you stopped being someone’s guardian angel to either reincarnate or stay the eternity in heaven, helping newbie angels and making sure everything was at peace.

Demons would always try to bring chaos into the mundane world, throwing unlucky cards or haunting people’s dreams, trying to drive them insane or make them commit crimes, such as murder, mugging or even as cruel as suicide.

At least, you were given a room to rest for a couple of hours and to be able to do your job properly.

It was white, mostly, with a little bit of beige and pinkish tone. Glittery as well.

Sitting on your desk, you were scanning through the nth file of the night when you heard a loud cracking sound and a groan behind you.

You turned around just to see that Heeseung had teleported there, a deep frown on his face caused by the even deeper cut in his chest, where blood was spilling out.

“Heeseung!” You gasped, and he stumbled as you stood up.

He was the nastiest demon of hell, you two had arrived around at the same time and had always been in a fight since the beginning of your astral days.

Heeseung chuckled, his face paler than usual as he clutched the gash on his chest “It’s just a little cut.” He tried to brush it off, though you were sure if any human had that kind of injury, it would’ve been fatal.

He limped forward, leaning against the wall, giving you one of his usual cocky smirks “No need to worry.”

His smirk would’ve even been hot if he wasn’t bleeding out in the middle of your room, which happened to also be in heaven, a place he definitely shouldn’t be.

Heeseung couldn’t die because, well, he already did. But the healing process would’ve hurt as much as dying another time would.

You hurried towards him, forgetting the work on your desk as you helped him on the bed “What happened?”

He groaned loudly, lowering himself onto the bed and flopping onto it as he clutched his chest, trying to keep the blood from gushing out of his body.

Heeseung hissed, looking up at you with a frown. "Got into a little fight", He muttered, "Can't you just heal me up?" He asked, tilting his head to the side slightly as he smiled at your worried expression.

“With who?” You asked as you unbuttoned his mutilated black shirt and winced when you noticed in what state his skin was.

Dark blood spilled out of the gash, his veins had turned black from some kind of venom you couldn’t quite point out “Or what..?” You asked, knowing it wasn’t made from mere humans or other kinds of demons.

He knew it wasn't a pretty sight. The pain was bearable for him but seeing you so worried made him hate being injured.

Heeseung looked to the side, avoiding your gaze. "You know I can't tell you..." He murmured, his voice low with a hint of guilt.

You frowned, hating that he had to keep it a secret “I don’t care about this hell versus heaven issue,” You snapped, feeling highly frustrated in that situation, “I know you’re hiding your aura so that God won’t sense you here, but you must tell me what hurt you so badly.”

He knew you only wanted the truth, and he didn't like lying to you. “ I can't tell you what hurt me," He whispered, his voice filled with pain that he hid behind his stubborness.

He looked at you, his eyes pleading as he reached to cup your chin in his palm. "Please, stop asking me, angel."

You sighed softly. No pain was comparable to seeing him hurt, “Okay,” You breathed out “I’ll see if I have some healing potion, it should help you.”

He nodded his head slightly, giving you a weak smile “I’d appreciate that.”

Heeseung laid in the bed, his chest feeling heavy with the pain. He didn't dare move to watch you as you frantically searched the drawers, trying to find the potion that would help him.

You opened and reopened drawers in desperate search of the healing potion, but nothing seemed to come to you.

“I’m sure I put it here somewhere,” You murmured as you threw out of your drawers white clothings and other items.

The panicked look in your eyes made his heart ache. He didn't want you to worry so much about him.

Heeseung sat up slowly, wincing as he did so. He reached out towards you, his voice strained as he spoke. "Angel, come here."

“No,” You frowned, not even turning around to look at him “I have to find it- I must.”

He let out a small sigh when you refused to come towards him. He could sense your anxiety rising as you scoured the room for the potion.

“Y/N,," He said, his voice firm but laced with desperation. "Please. come here. You don't need to find it for me right now, just come here."

“I’m sorry,” You whispered as you turned around. The blood dried a little, fortunately the flow had stopped completely.

You moved to the bed, sitting beside him as you adjusted the pillow behind his back.

“Don’t apologise,” His voice was a little too soft for a demon, “I just need you with me right now.”

You chuckled softly, “This looks like a bad joke. An angel worried about a demon.”

A light, amused smile appeared on his face. "It does sound quite ironic, doesn't it?"

He continued, “But I suppose it just shows the power of love, breaking boundaries even between heaven and hell."

You looked at him and nodded, intertwining your hands together, “It indeed is powerful.”

You looked at his gash again, it would take at least a whole day for it to fully close, and a week too for the scar to fade away.

At least, he was in your bed and not somewhere in hell-

bed. bed. under the bed you had some healing potion.

That’s where you had secured it. You jumped off the bed and quickly kneeled to rummage through the boxes.

He looked up in surprise at you when you jumped up so suddenly, his grip on your hand loosening as you rushed towards the bed.

He watched, a puzzled expression on his face, as you knelt down and started to rummage under the bed “What are you doing, angel?"

“Here it is!” You exclaimed, holding up a casket with bottles of healing cream.

He smiled faintly at your enthusiasm. "I can't believe it was right under the bed this whole time," He said, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

You helped him lay on the bed again, making sure he was comfortable. You opened the small bottle and poured some of its contents into your hand.

“This will help your healing process,” You informed as you opened his shirt better, “But it might hurt… a lot.”

Heeseung gave you a quick nod and you gently put the cream on his wound.

He hissed and gripped the sheet beneath him, trying to breath in as much air as he could as his skin burned.

“Shhh,” You soothed, putting the bottle on the ground and caressing his face “Don't fight it baby, it’ll be alright.”

“This ain’t got nothing on me,” He murmured, trying to be strong for the both of you.

The pain was just like dying another time, his skin was slowly healing, but by doing that his body would suffer.

Heeseung’s eyelids slowly grew heavy until they shut because of the pain.

You stayed with him the whole time, until his body stopped rocking in tremors and his skin stopped sweating cold.

He woke up just a couple of hours later, thanks to his high dark aura, making it easier for the healing cream to work.

His chest had been wrapped in a bandage, now being shirtless, just with his black jeans.

His eyes opened, taking in the light colours of your room. You sat beside him, continuing with your heavenly task, but also willing to stay by his side.

Heeseung groaned lowly, his body feeling heavy and sore from the intense pain he had undergone.

He looked around for you, his eyes landing on your figure sitting beside him.

“Angel.." he muttered, his voice weak and hoarse.

You widened your eyes at hearing his voice and quickly discarded the documents on the bed “Hey,” You whispered, turning toward him.

He could feel the effects of the potion, making his body stronger by the minutes “How long was I out for?” He asked.

“No more than a couple of hours,” You informed him, brushing his bangs away.

He nodded, wincing slightly as he moved to sit up in the bed.

Heeseung looked back at you, his eyes meeting yours. "Still doing your work, huh?” He asked, gesturing at the closed documents and pen beside you.

“Angel duties.” You shrugged, giving him a small smile “How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing okay,” You replied, sitting upright “The healing potion is working.”

“That’s good.” You nodded, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you for healing me, angel.” He said, the look in his eyes full of love and devotion.

You smiled gently, “I’m glad you came to me.”

He took your hand in his, “Where else would I go, if not to you?” He gave your hand a gentle squeeze “You’re my safe haven, Y/N.”

Your eyes softened at his words and something warm spread all over your chest. They then fell onto his lips, they looked so plump and soft. You had the urge to kiss him, but you couldn’t.

It was impossible for angels and demons to kiss due to the curse cast upon them, a curse that would make their lips burn as soon as they met.

He sighed softly, Heeseung knew exactly what you were thinking. He was thinking the same, “What would I give just to taste your lips, even just once.” He murmured.

“Me too,” You frowned. “This is so… unfair.”

He nodded in agreement, "It truly is unfair," He said, his voice filled with suppressed anger.

"I wish I could pull you in my arms, hold you close, and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. And most of all, I wish I could kiss you, feel the softness of your lips against mine."

You shivered at his words, each one igniting a fire inside of you that could no longer be contained. You needed him and you needed him to need you back.

Still, you joked, trying to lighten the mood “You seem a little too soft for a demon.”

He chuckled softly, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I know, I know," He replied, a small smile on his face. “I suppose you bring out the softer side in me, angel.”

You traced your fingers on the bandage you used to cover up his gash, for finally just a small amount of blood had dirtied it “Does it still hurt?”

“No, not anymore.” He gave you a reassuring smile “It’s just a little sore now, nothing I can’t handle.”

Even if his reply was really important, you couldn’t seem to hear it as your eyes settled on his lips.

You moved unconsciously closer to him, and he noticed, licking his lips.

Heeseung held his breath as you leaned closer to him, his heart fluttering in his chest. He could feel the warmth of your skin, the gentle scent of your hair, and the soft touch of your breath against his face.

In a moment of lucidity, you shook your head and moved away. You craved his kiss, but you couldn’t hurt him just because of your selfishness.

“Would it be worth it?” You asked, your voice soft “If we kissed?”

He held your gaze for a moment, his eyes searching yours. He could see the determination in your eyes, the willingness to ignore the consequences.

“God help me," He muttered, his desire outweighing his caution.

He pulled you closer, his hands on your waist, and gently guided you onto his lap.

“Not the best thing to say in heaven.” You chuckled as you settled on his lap, holding yourself up on his shoulders.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” You murmured, making sure not to add too much pressure on his aching body.

"Well, I'm not exactly welcome in heaven, aren’t I?" Heeseung shook his head slightly, his hands gentle on your waist. "Don't worry about me, angel," he whispered. "I can handle a little pain if it means I can hold you like this."

He moved your hair out of your eyes as you sighed at the contact “You’re so beautiful.” He stated. “You too,” You replied.

“You truly are an angel.” He caressed your cheek, tracing your featured “And you’re mine.”

You smiled back at him, and for a moment he didn’t even look like a demon. He looked like a human boy, holding his lover in his arms and not caring about anything in the world but for you.

And well, the worst part was that you loved him to the extreme as well.

You knew Heeseung was capable of breaking heaven and rule hell if he wanted, but he would never even consider it if it had the chance to hurt you.

He would set the world on fire to keep you warm, crave out his own wings to give them to you.

And you were no better, you thought you’d turn your back on heaven the second someone threatened to hurt him.

“What happens…” You murmured “If heaven or hell take me away from you?” You needed to hear his answer, to hear just how much he cared about you.

The thought of losing you, of heaven or hell separating you, was something he couldn't bear.

He looked into your eyes, his voice low and filled with determination. "I'll burn down heaven and hell themselves before I let them take you away from me," He said fiercely.

Heeseung pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you protectively. "Nothing, not heaven or hell, can keep me from you."

At his words, you moved your face closer to his, feeling the ghost of his lips on yours, the electricity between the two of you.

His eyes flicked down to your lips, his own parting slightly in anticipation. He ached to close the distance, to feel the softness of your mouth against his.

His voice a strained whisper. "Y/N."

“Heeseung,” You whispered back “Please— kiss me, even if it hurts.”

The thought of the pain they would endure paled in comparison to the aching emptiness of not kissing you.

He took a deep breath, his voice a hoarse murmur “Damn it, angel. you'll be the death of me."

“Too bad you’re already dead.” Since he wasn’t closing the distance, you did.

You crashed your lips together in a desperate kiss. But as you braced yourself for the stinging sensation, it didn't come.

You pulled away, a surprised frown forming on your face “W-what?”

Heeseung’s expression mirrored yours, stunned, coating his sharp features.

“Maybe the curse was a lie.” You exclaimed “Maybe—“

“I don’t care.” Heeseung breathed out as he pressed his lips against yours once again.

The only thing he wanted was to focus on the sweet taste of your lips against his, the sound of your moans being swallowed in the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and sighed softly, drowning in the feeling of him.

His usual cold skin was now burning hot, even so the mere contact made you shiver.

“I love you,” He whispered on your lips, “Even if my heart can’t beat, I can feel it within me.”

You could feel his growing desire under you, making your body ache for him, “I can feel it too.” You whispered, taking one of his hands and guiding it to the middle of your chest “The pull.”

“Fuck,” He groaned and kissed you hard again.

“No curse words in heaven.” You murmured on his lips, making him smile.

The kiss was hot and anything but pure lust. “You drive me insane.” Heeseung murmured “Damn it, Y/N. The things I want to do to you.” You knew you shouldn’t feel that way, towards a demon. It was against every rule set in heaven.

But who cared? With every swipe of his tongue against yours, you couldn’t even remember what was your porpoise in there.

Unconsciously, you ground your hips on his, making him groan in your mouth.

One of his hands cradled your head, massaging your scalp and pulling your hair gently.

You hummed, loving the way he was so gentle with you.

You placed one of your hands on his chest, but gasped as you felt the bandage. He was still hurt, you couldn’t do it.

But Heeseung just smiled and held your body against his as he turned you around, so you were the one laying on the bed.

He unbuttoned his jeans and kicked them off, as well as his underwear.

You looked down at him and lord, if you didn’t need him. He wasn’t huge, but he was long and thick and eveything you ever wished for.

“I need in you so bad angel,” He murmured, prepping kisses down your neck “Can I have you, hm?”

Mindlessly, you nodded. You thought that if he even asked you to give everything up and run away, you’d agree right away.

His hands roamed your body, groping your breast, then down your stomach as he sucked on your skin, leaving reddish marks.

Not even caring about the consequences, your hands tangled in his locks, encouraging him to continue.

In just a matter of seconds, your clothes were forgotten on the floor as he took in the sight of you. So ethereal and so his.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip and leaned in to kiss you once more, “It might hurt.” He informed.

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck and bringing his chest flush to yours “I want the pain. I told you you’re worth it.”

His hips unconsciously bucked at your words, making his forehead press against your shoulder.

Heeseung took his length in his grasp and aligned with your entrance, “If you need me to stop or slow down, tell me.”

You nodded, breathing out a quick reply before he pushed himself in.

You had expected it to hurt, to burn the same way your kiss should’ve. But all you could feel was him and the sweet sensation it sent through your body.

Heeseung groaned, your walls hugging him so tightly. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself to go at a slow pace.

“You’re so perfect.” He murmured, kissing your collarbone “You’re just so perfect, I don’t know how you ended up with someone like me.”

You shook your head, wanting to tell him he was wrong but his pace quickened and each thrust sent ripples of pleasure through your body.

“I love you too.” You replied to his previous confession “S’much.”

His hips stilled at your words, his breath hitching. And then, his pace resumed, quickened as he held himself up.

He rested one of your legs on his shoulder and lightly kissed your ankle.

“So good, angel.” Heeseung grunted, the sound of skin slapping filling the heavenly room.

“Ugh!” You exclaimed as he hit a certain spot that made your toe curl “There, Hee, there.”

“Got it.” He chuckled and deepened his thrust, repeatedly hitting that spot, “Found your sweet spot, mh?” He asked, his voice low and husky.

Heeseung looked so perfect, his muscled body on full display, the bandage wrapped around his torso and his bangs sticking to his forehead.

He bit his bottom lip as he tried not to release before you, one of his hands moving down to circle your clit, wanting to bring the both of you to the edge at the same time.

Your body shook in tremors as he did, the pleasure almost too much.

Your back arched as you breathed out his name, needing him to stop and continue at the same time.

“Just a little more, baby.” He snapped his hips faster, letting your ankle go and hovering over you.

Both of your breaths mended, just panting onto each others’ lips as you felt your orgasm approaching.

You cradled his face in your hands and kissed him hard, teeth clashing.

You squeezed your eyes shut as you reached the edge, your body shaking. Heeseung throbbed at each clench of your pussy around him, emptying his seed inside of you.

His hips slowed, but he didn’t pull out. He intended staying like that for as long as he could.

He laid beside you not to crash you, but not even having the energy anymore to hover your figure.

He wrapped his arms around your body and held you close to your chest, “I don’t ever want to let go.”

“Don’t.” You stated, holding onto him for dear life “Don’t ever let me go.”

“As long as you’ll let me.” He whispered and kissed you again, deeply and slowly. For all the times he had wanted to kiss you but couldn’t because of the nonexistent curse.

Oh, but if only you knew the curse existed, but didn’t work for those who were soulmates in their past lives.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Cop More than a Feel

Kinktober Day 10: Spitroasting Two DILF Cop Alpha Yanderes x Gender Neutral Omega Reader CW: Noncon, omega discrimination, bigotry, a/b/o dynamics, musk, pheromones, abuse of authority, spitroasting, oral sex, threesome, knotting, general yandere behavior, reader fucked big stupid Word Count: 2k (Hope you guys enjoy this!)

You were in your car, a quiet moment of dread before going into work. It had become something of a daily tradition. You knew it would be another day of being belittled and harassed but if you gave up now it would be like admitting to all the people who told you you couldn’t amount to anything that they were right. You were an omega who had put themselves through the rigorous training to be a police officer, and you had managed to land a job in a short staffed department.

But no matter what you did or how many times you had proved yourself, you were still treated as a glorified secretary. The most dangerous thing you had ever been allowed to do was to go and get doughnuts and coffee by yourself.

It was humiliating. But it was not the worst thing that you had to put up with.

The worst of it were the snide remarks you could hear them make. Not even out of earshot, they didn't care if you heard. Awful comments about how you should be happy to even be a secretary around this kind of work. Comments about whose knot you should wind up bouncing on. Comments about what they thought your pheromones were like without your suppressants making them nearly undetectable. Comments about what your slick tasted like.

Those remarks made you angry, frustrated, and depressed. You wanted to scream and cry, but neither of those were options, lest you validate the emotional omega stereotype. It was pure gaslighting. But as ugly and bigoted as those remarks had been, they still weren't the end of things. It wasn't uncommon for a wandering hand to slide up your thigh when you had to sit by one of the alpha officers or grab your ass when you bent over.

The only time they didn't make any crude comments or get touchy with you were the times when the chief of police or the captain were around. You thought this was a hopeful sign that some of your superiors were open to the idea of an omega on the force and that they had told your other coworkers to treat you as an equal. At the very least, their commanding presence brought you some relief. They were ex-military, after all. This was not a just world, though, and you could not have been more wrong.

When you eventually mustered up the mental fortitude and could avoid it no longer, you went into the building.

For the most part, it was a standard and uneventful day, or at least what could be considered uneventful relative to what you normally suffered through. There were still comments and lecherous hands. Just not to the extent that there could have been. Though your day was fated to get much worse as right after lunch you were called into the chief's office.

Were you finally going to be given a chance to do some real police work?

No.

You entered to find both Chief Markey and Captain Nelson were present, and for some reason, the desk had been cleared. They did not look happy at all. It was a surprise performance review. This was not the first review that you had failed, but it was the one they were most negative with.

They said that while you clearly wanted to succeed and put in effort that it simply wasn't good enough. You were constantly jumpy and distracted, on edge constantly. Not to mention emotional. No major outbursts per se, but you were constantly glaring at your fellow coworkers. You tried to point out that your behavior reflected a hostile work environment.

Chief Markey raised his voice as he replied while Captain Nelson smirked.

"That proves you aren't meant for this job, you cannot even take responsibility for your own mistakes! Furthermore..."

He then went into great detail about how you made the men uncomfortable and then laid out accusations of you purposefully putting pheromones out to seduce or entice your fellow officers. Combined with your glaring, it was basically sexual harassment.

"This is insane! They get to grope and comment about me, but if I complain, it is my responsibility? But they get to just make up random bullshit about me, and I get admonished without proof!?"

"Calm down!"

"Yeah, you're being hysterical! Proving everyone completely right. It is obvious an omega can't be an officer."

Chief Markey scratched his well-groomed beard before smirking.

"But we have thought up a position for you..."

The position they had thought of was any that involved taking their knots.

Apparently, they were completely obsessed with you. A strong omega that would produce healthy babies, so resilient. But your place was riding one of their cocks, not in a dangerous job. It's why the other officers stopped harassing you when they were around. Markey and Nelson had marked you as theirs. They didn't like the others touching you, but thought it was a useful way to get you to break down, so they had an excuse to give you bad evaluations. Of course, they knew such a prideful omega would never just go along with being "reassigned," so they made sure you couldn't refuse.

They said that they'd plant evidence on you, get you fired from any new job, and track you down to the ends of the earth. No matter what, they'd ruin your life if you didn't submit.

"But don't worry, we'll let you wear the uniform and even keep the word "officer" in your title."

Nelson stroked your cheek and wiped away your tears with a rugged calloused hand.

"Yeah, you'll be our personal morale officer and take our knots every day when not working as our personal secretary."

Markey closed the blinds that hung in front of the large windows that overlooked the rest of the department and then locked the door.

"And look on the bright side. None of the other officers will give you any trouble after this."

You wanted to scream, to fight back, to run. Do anything, but take it. But that was all you could do. Well, that and cry. They had finally won. Captain Nelson wiped away your tears and pressed his lips to yours as you held back ugly sobs.

"Typical omega, so emotional. You'll feel better after you've had some good breeding."

Chief Markey made his way behind you and attended to the task of removing your uniform.

"No... no ple-"

You had started to protest somewhat loudly but were cut off by more unwanted kisses before Nelson spoke smugly.

"Now. Now. Don't want to protest too loudly and have all your coworkers hear, do you?"

You were shivering in fear.

"Don't be scared, it will all be over soon."

Markey rubbed a teasing finger around your hole.

"Oh, you're much too dry."

"We can fix that, though."

They each nibbled and gnawed a side of your neck, The Chief from behind and The Captain from the front. Your trembling in fear became involuntary quivers of pleasure.

They could tell the difference. Smell it easily. And then feel it as slick leaked from your hole and onto Markey's fingers. He left your neck to lick his thumb.

"Tastes ripe," he chuckled.

You were in such shock by the circumstances and physical stimulation that you didn't even notice when they had pulled down their pants and underwear, large throbbing cocks on full display and eager to be buried inside of you. One of them pulled out a thick blanket from beneath the desk and spread it out on top of it. They picked you up and laid you down carefully on the desk.

Ah... so that's why the desk had been cleared.

Chief Markey groped your ass while Captain Nelson held his cock in his hand and lightly smacked your face with it, smearing your face with its scent as you tightly closed your eyes. You gasped as Markey dipped his dick into you, your open mouth taken as an invitation for Nelson to slip his prick in. It tasted salty, probably from sweat and the near comical amount of precum he was producing. There was no choice but to swallow it  as he flooded your mouth.

Markey smacked your ass hard, causing you to jolt in surprise.

"Careful! I don't want them to bite my cock!"

"Sorry..."

They started out moving in tandem, Markey's thrusts pushing you onto Nelson's cock and Nelson pushing you onto Markey. But that didn't last as they began to lose themselves and go a bit feral. It only spurred them onward when you started twitching and convulsing in the pleasure that had been forced upon you, betrayed by your own body.

Deep anxiety and dread bubbled within you, but even as it did, another instinctual part of you was demanding that you submit and let your alpha mates breed you deeply. As the small room began to fill with the pheromones of two alphas and their cocks continued to plow into you, you felt your body slowly relax and become pliant to their touch.

You flinched in slight discomfort as Markey's knot swelled inside you and throbbed as he filled you with his cum. Nelson followed suit, filling your throat with his seed, but careful not to knot your mouth and risk choking you. Though that didn't stop you from gagging a bit as his nuts emptied into you.

"Oh, you haven't gotten your release yet... can't have that. What kind of mates would we be if we didn't make you feel good?"

Markey rolled his hips, moving his knot inside you until you convulsed and moaned out softly. Once his knot deflated and unbound the two of you he and Nelson swapped positions until you were brought to climax and knotted by Nelson while Markey made you suck his cock, slick with your mingled juices.

They played with you in a few other positions for over an hour until you were just a limp little sex doll. They took you on the floor, against the wall, on the desk some more, on the chairs. Your hair, face, thighs, crotch, and butt were covered in musky alpha seed. It oozed out of your hole. You were left slouched in the chair and too fucked out of your mind to do anything but mumble and drool. You were the very picture of someone who was utterly debauched.

"So quiet and well behaved. Will definitely pass a new performance review."

"Just proves that omegas need knots and not a high stress job."

To complete your new look were twin claiming bites on each side of your sensitive neck. They wiped you clean as best they could but you still absolutely reeked of cum and musk, though they didn't want their scent removed from you anyway. Nelson clothed you and covered you up with his jacket, feeling that if you were in your right mind, you wouldn't want to be seen in this state. And while he was proud of fucking you into such a stupor, the sight was for his and Markey's eyes only.

To be honest, he hadn't really wanted to share you, even with Markey. But the two of them had been old military buddies, so they decided not to let an omega come between them.

Except for when they literally had you between them.

They had come to the agreement that they would switch who you lived with weekly and share you on weekends. And of course they'd have you at work as their assistant/secretary... and as their cumdump on slow days... Captain Nelson was given the rest of the day off to get you situated and inform you of your happy new homes. You were in no state to take in new information, poor dear, but you'd be better in an hour or so.

[green-butterfly-writes]

Little Thief (Part 2)

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: Red Hood has a new informant, and nobody likes it. Two of the bats meet them. It’s not what they expected.

Trigger Warning for starvation and animal/child abuse. Read at your own risk.

Also, there is angst, but I promise it will get better soon 💚

I'm Dyslexic, and don't have a beta, so spelling mistakes are likely to happen.

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

Red Hood had a new informant. One he would not name. And nobody liked it. This mystery individual had given him the location of Cobblepot’s new scheme a month ago, a warning about a big bank robbery two weeks later, and a tip to look into what the Black Mask was doing five days ago. It was good information, but Batman (being paranoid as he was) didn’t trust it, and neither did anyone else. It was likely a trap, but Jason protected his informant with such passion that nobody could get anything out of him. At least, not until today.

Jason was out of commission for a week, and Gotham was in deep trouble. The Joker had broken out of Arkham and despite thoroughly examining every inch of every abandoned or rundown theme park, amusement center, and playground in Gotham, they hadn’t found a trace. It took a mix of bribery, black mail, threat of bodily harm and a significant amount of painkillers for Jason to agree to give them instructions on how to get the information they wanted. Which is how they ended up on a random rooftop with a bag of fast food.

~~~

Two figures made an unwelcome arrival at your designated meeting place. Instead of a single pair of feet softly falling on to the roof, and the air being filled with the familiar scent of sweat, gunpowder, and campfire cologne mixing with deep fried chicken, the wind sent a wave of overpowering floral detergent, mint shampoo, and citrus no-tear soap to assault your senses. The sounds of two individuals landing harshly on the roof stabbed at your sensitive ears, and even though the moonlight glowing from behind them obscured their appearances, you could price together who had intruded upon your night.

They both scanned the roof from their vantage point, and you crouched closer to the ground and leaned against the brick box that functioned as an access point to the roof, hoping the shadows would hide you long enough to make an escape plan. 

After seeming to confirm there was no human in sight, the taller of the two figures turned to examine the surrounding buildings, and the smaller crossed his arm over his chest and huffed.

“I don’t trust this,” the smaller one petulantly mumbled, quite enough you weren’t sure the man behind him could have heard, “Everything about this is suspicious, the secrecy, the location, the set up… who trades information for a burger of all things.”

“I heard you the first seven times Robin,” the taller of the two answered, dropping a familiar looking paper bag on the ground before arching into a handstand, “but this is the best — and currently the only — shot we got.” The words hung in the air for a moment before he added, “and it’s not a burger, Jay was very particular about that”

The boy huffed in frustration and looked ready to lose his temper, but with the cargo confirmed as food, your plans of a quick quiet escape were all but abandoned. Even with the smaller one — Robin — facing away momentarily to glare at his upside down companion, the temptation of food was just too strong. You hadn’t seen Red Hood in three days, nor had you eaten in just as many, and your stomach ached with need. Under better circumstances you could have dove between the two and stolen away with the food, but the past several days had been brutal, and every movement hurt. You opted to stay where you were, in hopes a better opening may present itself.

The taller of the two righted himself to his feet, and looked around at the surrounding building again, before lifting one hand to his ear, “you sure we got the right place? I don’t see anyone… no I checked, I’m sure. What do you want us to do,  just wait around? For what?! Yes… Yes! I understand that, but is this really — no, I promise. And who’s fault is that?…” he spoke heredity and harshly, and with all the standard Gotham street noise closer than it could be, it took you a moment to register the mumbling of another voice. You scooted closer in hopes of hearing the other side of the conversation, but due to a mix of pain and exhaustion, you stumbled, disturbing some of the debris around you, and while the taller of the two remained seemingly oblivious to your presence, Robin’s piercing eyes locked on you your location, still obscured in the shadows.

He grabbed hold of the sword on his back, and confidently stepped forward. You hesitated for a moment, before carefully extracting yourself from the dark, staying close to the ground in hopes of seeming as small as possible. Robin froze for a moment upon first impression, though his face was unreadable. He slowly sheathed his sword, and in turn you rose from the ground to stand. He took a soft step forwards, and you did not back away. He took another slow step towards you, lowering himself slightly, trying to appear less frightening, and in turn you made a small shuffle forward. By this point Nightwing had fallen silent, watching your careful dance with his companion. A delicate back and forth until you were three feet apart.

“What are you doing here thalabun?” he asked softly, more rhetorical than anything. You weren't sure how to answer the boy, how to explain your relationship with crime ally's guardian, so you stayed there, looking at him, examining is spiky hair and soft skin, familiarizing yourself with the citrusy smell that wafted off him, listening to his faint, controlled, rithmic breaths. 

“Give me the bag,” his voice was sharp and stern again, head aimed at his elder.

“No way,” came a swift response, “we need it for the informant, remember?”

“I'll only take a little, look at it!” Robin exclaimed gesturing to you, “plus we've been here for almost twenty minutes. I don’t think they’re coming.”

Nightwing seemed to mull it over, carefully examining you, before picking up the bag and launching it at a waiting Robin. Robin unwrapped the chicken sandwich, and pulled off a piece of the patty, tossing it at your feet, where you quickly lapped it up. Nightwing wandered over to where his partner was sitting on the ground and dropped beside him.

“Ok Robin. What's next? The informant is a no-show, and we still need to find the joker. Where else could he be?” they both sat in silence considering the question, pondering what — or rather where — they missed. A small, strangled ‘yip’ echoed into the damp cold of the night, and both vigilanties snapped their attention back to the fox. It yipped again, tail wagging, as if to say ask me. 

“You wouldn't happen to know where the joker is, would you?” Nightwing asked, almost sarcastically. He got a yip in response, and a head bob that resembled a nod. That made him pause…

“You do?” he repeated, beginning to doubt his vision and sanity. But as if to assure him of both, the creature repeated the gesture. “Could you show us?”

That… was a bit more difficult. Your body hurt and you were tired, three days of no food, little sleep, and constant harassment from kids, store owners, and wild animals alike had taken a toll. But you wanted to help. To be useful. At least to pay back the kind souls for feeding you, but also because doing good felt nice. And very little seemed to feel nice these days. So you summoned what strength you had, and launched yourself at them, leaping between, and landing on the hard floor with surprising grace. You pushed all your energy, all your hope, and strength, and thankfulness, into your legs so that they would go, go, GO!

You made it just short of the edge of the roof before your legs gave out and you were consumed. By darkens. By pain. Your back hurt, burning with every cut and bruise you had ever received. Your legs stung and ached. Your stomach clawed at your flesh begging to be filled or released from its prison. You were surrounded by darkness. Deep and unending, it was cold and quiet, yet all too loud, swallowing you, leaving you with nothing but pain. Everything hurt. So, so much. And you were alone, with no one to treat your wounds or hug your suffering heart. There was no warmth to reach for, no soft blankets or squishy stuffed animals. Just you, alone, cold, and in pain.

Two small, steady hands buried themselves beneath you, before carefully leaning you against something soft and sturdy. A kind hand shifted to run from the top of your head to the base of your tail, before repeating the motion. It was soothing, inside and out. Slowly the pain alleviated, and your breathing evened out. The dizzy feeling lifted, and you summoned all of your will power to crack open your eyes just a bit. You were met with the soft concern of Robin, worry visible even though the mask he wore. Robin’s steady breathing softly lifted you ever so slightly, and you focused to match his breathing: in and out, in and out. He smelled clean and strongly of oranges. It reminded you of the girls home you had lived in for six months before it was shut down for feeding the kids expired food. It was not a good place, but it was kinder than many others. You had missed the smell. 

“How about I carry you and you point to where we need to go?” he recommended softly, still running his hand down your spine. You basked in his warmth and soft touch for a moment longer, trying to regain your strength, before shifting in his hold and pointing at Gotham’s skyline. 

“That way?” You briefly nodded in confirmation, and both boys launched themselves off the roof and into the night air.

You had never seen Gotham from this perspective. Sure you climbed up fire escapes, and sat atop many buildings, but it was nothing like this. Nothing like soaring through the air, skyscrapers flying by. The way the wind licked freely at your hair reminded you for a moment of a trip you had taken with your mother long ago. She was driving on an empty dirt road, heading to the beach. The air was sunny and warm, the breeze swayed the trees in a methodical way, and your mother had let you stick your whole upper torso out the window. Distant street noises brought you back to reality, and looking down you saw the cars and people, they reminded you of Mr. Knox’s toy train display, the one that nobody but him was ever allowed to touch. They all looked so small from here. 

Eventually you all landed outside a junkyard with a broken front gate. You led them inside, between piles of broken cars and rubbish, around the sharp metal and spilled oil, all the way to a faded, rusty, ice cream truck. Its hood was dented, the paint was chipped, and it was missing its two back tires, but a distinctive, infuriating, familiar laugh radiated from the inside.

The two vigilantes exchanged a look, before Nightwing turned to you and held out a crinkled paper bag.

“I guess you were Hood's little informant,” he breathed out. You gladly accepted the payment, and retraced your steps out of the junkyard and into the concrete jungle of Gotham.

Once you were long out of view, and hidden in a grimy abandoned back alley, you softly plopped the bag on the ground. Your food was in a bag and wrapped in foil, you’d need thumbs to get it out. You didn’t like being in human form, not right now. You were skinny in both forms, but without the fur coat being a fox provided, the wind and cold seemed to sink right into your bones. It didn’t help that your small amount of clothing had definitely seen better days. But food is more important than momentary discomfort, so you shift, trading your tail and matted fur for arms and skin. 

You unwrap your chicken sandwich and sink in your teeth. The bread gives way softly, and a delicious crunch sounds as the lettuce brakes away into your mouth. The tomato bleeds its sweet juices onto your tongue, and as your mouth finally closes around the first bite of food you’ve had in days, you realize that by some miracle, despite the hour weight and cold conditions, the center of your crispy, chewy chicken patty was still warm. You barely finish chewing the first mouthful before taking a second, desperate for food and warmth.

You wonder if Red Hood is ok.

Thank you all so much for reading! Let me know what you think 💚

Notes:

Nightwing and Robin intentionally landed loader than they normally would in hopes of alerting the informant they had arrived, since they were expecting a human.

Jason, on the other hand, always tries to be especially quiet when coming to meet you because he knows your ears are sensitive.

'thalabun' is fox in Arabic according to google translate. if this wrong please, please let me know, as I intend to use it with some consistency moving forward.

ALSO!! Illustration

tag list:

@4rachn3

Let me know if you want to be added 💚

[irndad]

don't date coworkers- s.r.

a/n: i literally wrote this very fast and also i hope you like it pls go easy on me!!! reader has a policy they don't date coworkers. spencer is so angsty abt that !! also sorry for dropping a new fic at 2am LOL wc: 1.7k

She’s really, really good at talking to people. 

It’s one of the many traits Spencer adores about her. She moves through crowds with ease, and she can charm her way into any piece of information from whatever city cop they need a favor from. She integrated into the team faster than anyone could’ve expected. This is a strength not all profilers have- they know what it takes to know what makes someone appealing, but rare is the ability to be as charismatic and charming as she is. 

She’s good at talking to him.

She’s worked at the BAU for about a year now. 13 months, 7 days and 8 hours since she walked through the doors of the bullpen for the first time, beaming at him for the very first time. Give or take. 

Spencer wouldn’t be surprised if everyone knew that he was in love with her. He’s halfway certain she does, and is being too polite to mention it. Normally, Spencer is incredibly regimented about boundaries. While the BAU is his family, and there’s no real way to deny that, he knows that he’s less than ideal to go out with. He’s stocky and he never cuts his hair (even though she swears it’s cute longer) and he’s an awkward guy- gangly and tall and just ill-fitting to be part of the scenery of her life. 

It’s a Friday, and a rainy one at that. It’s one of the blessed ones where they don’t really have a case, just paperwork to catch up on, reports and her desk faces a window. 

Normally, when Spencer gets his work done (a good four hours before everyone else on a paperwork-only day), he’d head out. Catch up on whatever Russian novel he’s been chipping away at- but she’s here, and he’s made her favorite tea. 

“I thought you could use a treat,” he says, walking over to her desk. She looks up at him, brushing overgrown bangs, “It’s not really a great one, but I’ll get you some scones on the way to mine, yeah?”

She looks up at him, dropping her pen and focusing entire energy on him. He feels a bit overwhelmed, like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

“Did you know that I adore you, Spence?” 

He is very much not aware. No amount of her saying it will ever make him know. She takes a long sip from the mug. He knows how much honey she likes in it. He studies how she looks, eyes closed serenely, completely invested in what he’s given her. 

“You’ll be taking her home, pretty boy?” Morgan snickers, in a not altogether unkind manner. 

“Fuck off,” she says kindly, not taking her eyes off of Spencer as she rebuffed Morgan’s teasing. 

“Easy, easy,” Morgan laughs, “I’ll leave your boyfriend alone.”

If she has anything to say to that, it doesn’t come out then. 

He’s still bright red, though. Morgan is amused, and Spencer knows that she really, truly adores Morgan. Spencer loves him too, but it would be nice if he laid off the jokes. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

He knows this because of the first time they’d met, when he’d been walking in carrying a croissant for Garcia and a coffee for JJ, and saw what can only be described as a truly ridiculously beautiful woman in the bullpen. 

She’d been leaned back, smiling openly as Morgan tossed some random pick-up line towards her. He remembers it now like he can still hear it, her lilting lovely voice carrying just the right amount of warmth to make this not sting, or at least sting as little as possible. 

“I’m sorry, Derek,” she had said, “I make it a point not to date coworkers.” 

Which of course is fine. She can date whoever she wants, and it’s a good policy to have personally. And Spencer’s never really be the kind of guy who excelled at getting dates. He knew from the first minute that he saw her that even if she didn’t think that way… well, it wouldn’t be him, who she picked. 

Now, they are very close. So close that she drives him home from work every Friday. Which usually includes staying at his shitty apartment and watching VHS tapes of documentaries and Doctor Who. 

He wants to kiss her every Friday. All, the time, really. It’s kind of plaguing him. Clearly, she likes hanging out with him. Something about him is appealing. It’s foolish to assume that it’s more than friends, especially for someone like him to be with someone like her. 

She doesn’t date coworkers. 

“I made sure the film tonight has subtitles!”

“Are you saying film because this film is foreign, Spence?”

“I promise it’s worth it!” He says excitedly, “And they’re really done well. You won’t have to have me whisper the translations to you in real time!”

“I didn’t mind that,” She laughs then, a real laugh, “but I’m glad we’re getting to hang out tonight.”

It’s funny- they’ve done this so, so many times, but he never stops being thrilled. 

___________________________________

Sometimes, when the summer air is forgiving enough, they walk home from the office. She takes the train in, and they walk back to his place. Tonight is one of these nights, and god- she looks lovely. She’s tied her blazer around her waist, and the sunset hits her face in that gorgeous baroque painting kind of way. 

“You’re very pretty,” he hears himself say before he can stop it. He’s endlessly pleased when she preens at the praise. 

“You’re not so bad yourself, Doctor,” she says, shoving her hands into her pockets, a nervous gesture. He wants to hold those hand, intertwine her lovely delicate fingers with his bony wispy fingers. 

“You’re being nice to me,” he says, looking down at his shoes. They’re stupid. He should wear loafers, or some other shoe that doesn’t make him like half-child half-geek. 

“I’m being accurate, actually,” she says she bumps his shoulder. 

She’d be a wonderful girlfriend. He lives in the world this can happen quite often, in his fantasy. She laughs at his jokes and tells him he’s kind, and good, and she means it. He’s lucky to have this much of her- more than anyone else on the team! Spencer knows he’s her favorite. The way she’s looking at him now, how she give-up her Fridays to spend with him, on his ratty couch, how she always listens. Whenever they're both on the jet and he falls asleep, he always wakes up with a blanket on him. She's so good at loving people.

Being her favorite on the team does not mean he’s in the running to be a boyfriend. But he’d fucking want to be. He’d be a good boyfriend. Spencer, he’s gone so far for her. He fantasizes about getting her flowers that have symbolic meaning.

“Are you okay, boy-genius?”

“I’m better than okay. Do you want popcorn?”

She wants popcorn. He sets the movie up, and she gets comfortable on his couch, curling up with his purple felt blanket, and his mind betrays him with unhelpful images of what it might look like if she was his, if this is what he came home to. 

Don't picture welcome home kisses, or movie nights or being wanted. Don't.

It’s very, very hard to focus on the movie.  

She’s touchy, with him. He’s not sure if it’s because she could never see him as her boyfriend, but he’s grateful as she leans her head on his. She smells like peonies. When the credits roll, they stay like that for minute- her head on his shoulder and one of her legs thrown over his. 

He wonders, not for the first time, if she feels the same way about him. If things were just..different, then they’d be kissing under the haze of his TV right now, if he’d know what that chapstick she carries with her every day tastes like. 

“Do you ever wonder what it’d be like if we met under different circumstances?” he says, once time passes and he speaks instead of thinking.

“Hmm?” She hummed, relaxed eyes flitting their gaze over to him.

“Like, at a bar or something.”

“But you hate bars.”

“That’s why I said or something!”

Her lip juts out adorably, “But then I wouldn’t get to see you in your element.”

“Yeah,” he sighs, resting his neck on the top of the cushion. The AC is a little too much in the room. He wonders if she’s cold. “But who knows. Maybe we’d date, or something.”

It’s the dumbest thing he’s ever fucking said. Both because it was a dumb way to say it, but because it was an advance. He feels white hot shame lick at his spine when he looks at her, and hears her laugh. 

“I don’t think so, Spence.” 

“No,” shitshitshit, “I didn’t mean-“

“I mean, if you don’t want to date me now, I don’t think meeting at like, Whole Foods would’ve been the difference maker.”

It’s then he hears it- the piece he couldn’t place in her voice, when she gets like this. It’s being resigned. 

“What are you talking about?”

“C’mon, Spence,” she says, another bitter chuckle coming through, “You know how I feel. I haven’t exactly beens subtle.”

“But you don’t date coworkers. You have a rule.”

She looks at him with no recognition of what he’s saying. 

“No, because you told Morgan that, it’s the first thing I ever heard you say.”

“Yeah, but-“

“And yes, okay, you’ve been my favorite person almost as long as I’ve known you and yes, I would fucking love for you to be my girlfriend, but that was your rule!”

“You want me to be your girlfriend?”

“Obviously!”

He doesn’t get the chance to say anything else before, well- before she’s kissing him. More aggressive than that, really. Crawled onto his lap, arms around his neck, and where she leads Spencer is all too happy to follow. His body is not great at moving on instinct, but his whole nervous system feels alive- the weight of her in his lap, the feel of her waist under his fingers, the way he’s allowed this. It feels like such a pleasure, hedonistic in a way he’s never, ever been allowed to experience.

“You had a rule,” he says dumbly when she pulls away. His lips are wet. He’d like to go back to kissing, thank you very much. 

“You’re the exception, to every rule, Spencer.”

When he kisses her again (which he’s allowed to do now, holy fuck) Spencer decides he’s going to spend the rest of all time earning that status.