#follows prime around like a lost puppy and tries to help with all that he can

[auphelia]

Nice Segment OC???

oh dear it's literally just what the title says, a segment oc who doesen't have a name yet.. my determination to get my segment oc thoughts down on paper were recently inspired by lestaire so that's how it got there. He's just a silly little guy, but here's a small snippet of his characteristics!

A segment not originally initiated by Prime. Webtorre segment made most of the shell because he wanted a spare segment with a 'gentle' looking exterior to have an easier time manipulating on his behalf

Too soft to take part in most of Dottore's research (has a slight fear of blood and absolutely despises cruelty), but is really good a alchemy

Has developed a weird fascination with art, especially performing arts and will occasionally lurk around to hear Columbina sing

Probably one of the most well behaved segments -> gets super nervous if he does something wrong

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Part Twenty-One

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: I hope life hasn't been too terrible for y'all while I've been gone xD. While on this little vacation, I realized I have Computer Vision Syndrome (CVS). I know that sounds silly, but it actually really fucking sucks. When I write for a long period on my laptop screen (like 5 hours), I get awful eye pain, headache, migraines, blurred vision, vertigo, and nausea. I've learned different tips and tricks to help with it, so I'm doing much better. Thank y'all so much for letting me enjoy my break, and happy reading! 

P.S. Updates will still be Sun/Mon.

Chapter Warnings: 0-100 real quick but with sexism, extreme anti-bastard language, minor ableist language, panic attack.

"My blood is red and unafraid of living, beginning to end.

I'm liquid smooth, come touch me too,

And feel my skin is plump and full of life, I'm in my prime.

I'm at my highest peak.

I'm ripe, about to fall, capture me."- Liquid Smooth, Mitski.

Surprisingly, life had proceeded smoothly after your tumultuous reappearance at Kings Landing. You expected more hardships to come, but astonishingly, they had yet to arrive.

However, becoming used to Aegon's advances took time. Following like a lost puppy everywhere you went, never far from his beloved little Princess. Much to your chagrin, people began to group you and the wastrel prince as a pair. Where one was, the other was sure to be.

Queen Alicent had dubbed you Aegon's keeper, ensuring he was not frequenting the Silk Streets and gambling houses as he once did. Playing the role of the Prince's Mother wasn't enjoyable at first, but you understood how much of an advantage this was, and a part of you grew to like it. It was the only sturdy aspect in your life, comforting and tending to Aegon's needs like a nursemaid, and should questions arise from your frequent sightings within the eldest son's apartments, the Queen herself would explain the rumors away.

Alicent prayed to the Seven that providing close contact with Aegon would convince you to see her reasons behind the line of succession and sway you to believe them. Even if that didn't work, she still found a way to control her scoundrel of a son and keep the blanket of shame from lying upon their backs. The Queen did not worry herself about the idea that her son might attempt to corrupt you. She was sure that if Aegon tried anything, you would physically overpower him and that her son's poor, borderline misogynistic words he called flirting would not work on a sensible woman like you.

Alicent had yet to inform her father of the schemes she concocted, and Lord Otto Hightower grew wary of the Bastard Princess and the Drunken Prince's time together. He knew of your loyalty to your family and how you believed with your entire soul that destroying centuries' worth of tradition and precedent would better the realm. By putting Rhaenyra on the throne, a girl he watched grow into a woman uncaring of duty, you would somehow prove yourself better than your worth.

But that was not how things were. That was not how dynasties secured their reign for millennia.

Upon reflecting on the situation, Otto realized he couldn't separate Aegon from you, for he was permanently attached to your hip. He needed someone under his thumb that you deemed trustworthy. Perhaps a knight that you respected and felt a familiarity with?

Otto summoned Ser Arryk to his study during the moment of realization. He tasked the Kingsguardmen to become your protector in the Red Keep regarding your newly appointed status as Small Council member. Lord Hightower knew it was a lie, and he understood you would too, but was comforted by the notion that Ser Arryk would accept this task with duty, honor, and integrity and would not fail him.

Yet, Arryk's reports back to him were trivial. He gave the Hand information he already knew and, at moments, even made him doubt putting the White Cloak to the task. The only thing that sparked Otto Hightower's interest was how many letters departed from the Rookery. At one point, when the Lord was genuinely desperate, he opened a letter addressed to Dragonstone, hoping to find something, anything that would give him that edge, but was greeted with a language he didn't understand and hot embarrassment for having been caught by the newly appointed Grand Maester Orwyle after the death of his predecessor.

But it was no matter, the Hand told himself. He learned how to wait. Otto Hightower spent many years playing a game no one else knew they were in and had not failed yet, for his daughter was crowned Queen Consort of the Seven Kingdoms, and his grandson was in line to inherit the Iron Throne. Otto Hightower had to be patient, as he always was, and everything would fall into place.

***

The eldest Prince's head rested in your lap, his violet orbs following the shapes of the white cotton clouds in the afternoon sky. You watched Princess Helaena search for bugs on the underside of leaves, quietly humming to yourself a song Rhaenyra had sung to you on many occasions.

You had just finished picnicking with him, Helaena, and her children, the tots handed to a nursemaid after little Jaehaerys fell asleep in your arms. It was a request by Aegon to his sister-wife to have them all for lunch. An idea you planted in his head that initially did not include a third person, but upon Aegon's manipulation Helaena allowed you to come—explaining something about how good you were with his son and that it would be practice for when you made the eternal sacrifice that was the act of raising children. Helaena immediately brightened at the notion of you possibly bringing more babes into the Keep and agreed immediately.

A nuzzling sensation on your stomach stole you from your contented trance, looking down to see Aegon pressing his nose into the crevice where your stomach overlapped the apex of your thighs. He continued the movements as you glanced over to Helaena, ensuring she was still distracted by the pair of mating green beetles she found.

"Aegon," you chastised, cocking a brow at the burrowing Prince. "Your wife is standing ten and five paces from us."

"And?" he prompted, nipping at the thin golden fabric of your natural waistline.

"And she could suddenly become disinterested in the pair of breeding insects and see her lord husband burying his face into the navel of another woman," you snapped, slightly curling your lip as your fingers glided over his scalp.

"Helaena would not care. She is my sister," Aegon flippantly retorted, his words muffled by your gut.

You rolled your eyes, the ring of purple shimmering in the Spring daylight and momentarily distracting Aegon. "She is your wife by law and the divine. 'Tis an insult for you to be so openly disrespectful of your ties," you answered cooly.

The Prince groaned, the noise muffled by silk and flesh as he moved his hands, swiftly palming at your breasts before he sat upright.

"Your observations are always appreciated, little one, but I believe those skills could be put to better use," he teased, giving your tits another squeeze as you stifled a squeal before separating to a proper distance.

"Rotten prince!" you whispered heatedly to Aegon, glancing at Helaena again.

He snickered in response, taking a swig of the imported strawberry mead from Drone to hide his smirk. "I seem to remember you calling me a different name last night." He gulped down the drink, releasing a satisfied exhale. "What was it again? Good boy? My sweet Prince?" He feigned forgetfulness, gazing into the blue sky with a stubby digit tapping his chin. "Oh, that's right! I remember now! 'Twas-"

You launched across the patterned blanket the servants had placed and tackled Aegon, covering his mouth with your fist as he squealed like a captured piglet. He wriggled like one as you attempted to punch his cherubic cheeks, legs straddling his torso.

Suddenly, your name was called, startling you and causing your hands to move from Aegon's body and rest your weight fully atop his waist. You feared the worst. Helaena, furious at you and storming over to have you escorted from Kings Landing for your scandalous actions, destroying your plans.

"Please, don't hurt him too badly," Helaena said, still focused on the beetles. "I am certain whatever caused this isn't worth murdering him over, but if you must..." She trailed off, turning her hand over as the emerald bug crawled across the back of it. "I have not seen anything."

It took a few blinks to realize she was jesting. Her monotone, almost dreamy voice did not indicate if she was. A hint of a smile graced Helaena's thin, peony lips, a devilish glint within your eyes as you bent your knees to attack.

"Devious women! Evil women, the lot of you!" Aegon cursed in faux protest, wrestling his arms with yours as a grin split your face.

And that was how Ser Arryk found you, straddling the eldest son of the King as you rolled over the top of each other like fighting wolves, kicking the large wicker basket to his feet on accident. He cleared his throat as he reached you, Aegon using the distraction to his advantage as he flipped you over onto your stomach, mouth centimeters away from your neck.

"Princess," Ser Arryk interrupted awkwardly. Aegon deflated against you at the sound of his voice, resting his forehead on your shoulder in defeat.

"Good afternoon Ser Cargyll," you chirped, trying to control the blush that crept across your cheeks. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your presence?"

Arryk's gaze flickered to the protruding flesh of your bosom before swiftly averting his eyes to the blooming shrubs. He cleared his throat again, the notch bobbing as he swallowed.

"The Hand has ordered a meeting of the King's Council, your Grace. 'Tis an urgent matter," he answered, his back ramrod straight.

You sighed in acknowledgment, using your palms to arch your body and shove Aegon off, his short nails catching on the embroidered beads of your dress. He groaned in annoyance as he flopped onto the ground dramatically, reminding you of Jaehaerys during one of his tantrums.

Righting yourself, you smoothed the golden fabric of your gown, which Helaena commissioned for you as a Maiden Day gift and finally felt appropriate enough to wear. You nodded at the Kingsguardmen, walking a few paces before turning to face Helaena and Aegon, the latter pouting like the spoiled boy he was.

"I apologize that our picnic must be shortened, my Prince and Princess. I'm sure we could meet for supper if that is feasible," you offered with a tilt of your head.

Helaena nodded, strolling over to her sulking brother as she nudged him with her slippered foot.

Arryk observed the interaction as he waited, his eyes trailing to places of sin. The way your flowing silk dress hugged your skin, the white pearls on the neckline complimenting your intricately styled ebony hair. Bronze beads were sewn on the gold fabric in a way that reminded him of a weeping willow, the same little balls threaded into your thin sleeves in a swirling pattern. His gaze danced over your curves next, your hips, waist, arse, anything he could see before you faced him once more, a brilliant smile on your lips.

Shame ran hot through his veins as he made contact with Aegon, his eyes dark and stare piercing. Arryk had only seen looks like that from men set to battle, hardening themselves for imminent slaughter. He knew of the Prince's quick anger, a secondhand source of it from his brother. Whatever Aegon was thinking, or more so planning, Ser Arryk didn't want to be a victim of.

He quickly turned, making his way towards an entrance of the Keep without regarding the sole reason he came. You watched Ser Cargyll's retreating form, throwing a perplexed look at Helaena and Aegon before following him, the string of pearls around your waist swaying with the movement.

Once you both were far enough away from the Godswood, you stood in Arryk's pathway, hands on your hips.

"Why did you leave so abruptly? 'Tis hardly proper as a member of the Kingsguard to turn your back on his kin," you interrogated.

"My apologies, Princess," Arryk bowed, muscles tense.

Your face soured, cringing at the emotionless sound of his voice. "None of that," you waved your hands, dismissing the subject. "Twas odd, is all. I've never seen you act in such a way before. It concerns me." You paused, pursing your lips as you glanced at the cracked red stone floors, moving closer to him. "Did Lord Hightower inform you why the meeting was called? Is that the reason for your callousness?"

Ser Arryk swallowed the lump in his throat that formed while watching your concerned face scrunch, the violet in your eyes becoming larger as your pupils shrunk in the daylight. He couldn't answer your questions truthfully without knowing your relationship with Aegon, redirecting the conversation to something more comfortable.

"I am unaware of the reason," Arryk answered instead, his posture still tense as he spoke. "It's rather unusual for the Hand to do this, no?" He noted the brief scowl that pulled your mouth, tucking your lips in to nibble at them.

"Yes. You are correct, Ser Cargyll," you nodded, pivoting on the balls of your feet as you proceeded with your journey. "It unnerves me greatly if you do not mind me speaking freely." You glanced at him in your peripherals. He encouraged you to continue, following a respectable distance. "The last time something like this happened, Grand Maester Mellos passed, and Mother encouraged me to have her Maester put forth. 'Twas humiliating when Lord Hightower said it was the Citadel's decision, not the King's."

You pinched the bridge of your nose at the memory, shame, and regret burning your ears to this day. Ser Arryk chuckled at your recollection and, without thinking better of it, placed a comforting hand on your shoulder as a friend or companion would. He recoiled faster than a striking snake once he realized, clenching his fist behind his back in abashment.

You peered at him curiously with a raised brow, assessing the situation. The knight had forgotten himself, acting more of an acquaintance than a protector. Some of you wanted to dismiss what happened and brush it off as a mistake anyone would make when spending nearly every waking moment with someone. Still, the other more intellectual side saw the opportunity that had just presented itself, and who were you to ignore it?

In your hopes that it was amicable, a grin crossed your face, hooking your opulent arm with his armored one, encouraging him to keep walking and that you weren't offended by his actions. You continued your conversation as if nothing had happened, explaining to him more times that you made a fool of yourself during court and your anxiety with the impending Lords you were about to face. Arryk listened intently, offering consoling words each time you finished, eventually loosening his flexed muscles. Once you were a few paces away from the Council Chambers, you parted from Ser Cargyll with a polite smile, asking him to wait outside the doors until the meeting was done. He, of course, agreed, finding a spot alongside the wall as you entered.

Insecurity flipped your stomach as the few Lords stared at you, each of their expressions one of shock. You gazed back at them, unsure of the reason for their behavior, as your nails dug crescents into your blanched palms. Alicent was the only person with a neutral look, hiding the faint smile on her plush lips between her hands as she sat in the high-backed chair at the end of the long table.

Lord Tyland Lannister smirked as you signaled Aemond to pour a glass of wine, needing the courage the firewater brought. You followed the direction of his eyes, realizing they were on your outfit, glancing between the pearl dragon earrings and necklace to the shimmering gold of your gown. You understood it was something you would have never chosen yourself, more comfortable in your red and dark day-to-day palette, but it was a gift from a princess, and you weren't expecting an impromptu meeting. It would be best if you had changed before attending, you nervously thought.

Lord Beesbury was the last member to join, rushing in with a flurry of robes and parchment, the scrolls tumbling out of his arms. You rose to help him and gathered the fallen documents, ignoring the impatient groans of the men above you. Lord Laymen gave you a grateful smile, dropping the scrolls in a pile on the oak table before seating himself.

Otto Hightower broke the thick silence with a sigh and clap of his hands.

"I apologize for the abruptness of this meeting, but I have news regarding aid to the Stepstones," he announced uncharacteristically cheery. "We have received the shipments requested earlier than initially thought, and our Master of Coin's secretary has counted everything himself."

You couldn't hide the annoyed tick of your jaw for not knowing this news first. Lord Laymen was told to come to you regarding when the imports arrived. He was the Master of Coin, and a portion of his duties lay in the imports and exports of Kings Landing. You felt a sense of betrayal at the man, your usual cordial look towards him replaced with an icy one.

"This is wonderful news," Lord Lannister replied boisterously, a smile hidden underneath his beard. "Mayhaps we'll finally be done with this Triarchy nonsense, and Lord Corlys will prevail." The Master of Ships raised his half-empty cup, everyone except for you mimicking his actions. "A toast," he hollered, looking at everyone at the rectangular table as you swiftly lifted your drink to match them, "to the Bastard Princess for finally ending this Gods forsaken war."

"Hear, hear," rang out in the room from all the men, only the two women posing across each other, keeping their mouths shut. You downed the entire contents of the blood-orange wine in one go, swallowing the biting insult that threatened to spill from your mouth at the namesake.

"Thank you, my Lord Tyland, but we shouldn't partake in any victory celebrations yet," you said, false appreciation in your tone. "I would like to see the shipments myself if that is all right with you, Lord Beesbury? 'Tis not that I don't trust your secretary; this project is something dear to me, and I would feel at peace if I were there to ensure it in person."

The older Lord nodded almost ludicrously, "Of course, Princess. We shan't proceed without your approval."

Tossing a saccharine smile to the gentleman under your dark lashes as Lord Jasper chimed in. "Princess, I would like to accompany you in the process. As the Master of Laws, I must ensure they have the required documentation to sail to Dragonstone. We have increased our naval patrol over Blackwater Bay, and I would hate for the goods to be confiscated. If they were, it would be out of my hands then."

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at Lord Wylde, unable to hide the look of disbelief on your face. It felt like an unnecessary request of Lord Jasper, and it insulted you to have him think he could get away with it. "They got here fine, did they not? Refrain from troubling yourself with such trivial tasks. I would be surprised if those men could even read," you quipped, forgetting the courtly tone excepted of you.

Suddenly, the room went noiseless, the joyful feeling replaced with something else.

"Many would say the same about a woman like yourself—a bastard from the slums of Flea Bottom sitting on the King's Small Council. Most people would think you suited elsewhere," Ser Jasper sneered, slighted by your remarks.

Your face grew scalding, your hands balling into fists on your lap. You couldn't contain the following words, the inherited rage from the Rouge Prince boiling to the surface. "Why? Are you looking for another wife? Gods rest her soul."

Gasps filled the room. Everyone, even the One-Eyed Prince, was stunned at the venom that had just spewed from your lips. It had only been a month since the passing of Lord Jasper's wife, not yet through the mourning period. You wanted to take it back as soon as you sounded it. Not because of how vile it was but because it cracked the mask of righteousness you wore with pride, showing how much you were truly like your reckless father—the man who slaughtered the innocents of Flea Bottom over a decade ago.

"It would fit you better," he snapped, "wailing in pain while you served the only purpose a woman like you is good for."

You shot out from your chair, nostrils flaring and lifting your skirt before thinking better of it in an endeavor to unsheath your dagger.

"Enough!" The Queen shouted, stopping you from doing something you wouldn't survive to regret. "The Princess shall survey the shipments without company. This meeting is finished."

Each member left the chambers like frightened deer; even the Hand himself left in such a hurry that it shocked Queen Alicent herself. You could feel their lingering stares as they went, putting your cutlass back in its proper place before flickering your glare to the only occupants still brave enough to stay. Aemond stared at you with regard of what could only be interpreted as amazement, his one purple eye wide and bow lips parted like a suffocating fish would—Alicent, still seated, staring at her raw cuticles, a shadow cast over her heart-shaped face from her forearms.

You left with a succinct curtsy and newfound gratefulness for the Queen, pushing the hair that had fallen over your shoulders behind you and meeting the bewildered gaze of Ser Arryk. He would undoubtedly heard the loud screech of your chair as you nearly pounced on Ser Jasper Wylde, and you could see the concern etched in the fine lines of his skin. You disregarded his outstretched hand that wishfully asks to link arms again, the skirt of your dress nearly causing you to trip from your brisk pace. Arryk swallowed the bitter discomfort that formed in his throat at the denial and caught up to you with haste.

"Your Grace, are you well?" The knight oppugned.

"Quite well. Thank you, Ser Cargyll," you gagged, swatting away a strand of hair that blew into your mouth. Arryk's armor clanked with his swift gait, his white cloak billowing behind him.

"Are you sure, my Lady? I heard a commotion moments before the meeting adjourned," he prodded, hoping you would answer his unasked question.

"I tripped Lord Larys, and he fell into his chair, finally putting the poor cripple out of his misery," you snarled, unsure of your destination as you continued moving. "Is that what you want me to say, hmm?" You stopped abruptly, whipping your body around to face him. "That the wildling bastard Aegon Targaryen found in Flea Bottom is an eel like everyone else? Mayhaps I should go back and live amongst my fellow leeches."

Ser Arryk stared at you in stunned confusion, shock, and befuddlement about where your frustrations and sudden outburst originated.

"Princess-" He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came, lips curling and uncurling as he tried to find the proper expressions. Arryk finally gave up, his cerulean stares closing as he straightened his posture, becoming the impersonal Kingsguard he trained to be.

Even in your rage, Arryk still found you beautiful. Your inklike mane was braided skillfully in a half up half down style, golden pearl pins framing the soft features of your countenance. Immediately he buried the thought, a blush dusting across his pale cheeks. He desired desperately that moment he had his helmet covering the pink. You soughed, realizing your anger was misplaced, and crossed your arms, the bronze beads of your dress catching one another.

Before you could apologize, you caught a blur of green in the distance, the Queen Consort walking purposefully towards you, a firm yet serene expression on her soft face. The knight took note of your gaze, no longer on him, and turned, his posture impossibly more tense than before.

You both bowed in unison as she halted, dismissing Ser Arryk with the wave of her emerald and peridot jeweled fingers. Eyeing her curiously, you fell beside her, assuming she wanted to talk privately. Queen Alicent hushed as you trekked the long winding hallways of the Keep, waiting for the palace's inhabitants to thin before speaking.

"Twas unbecoming of Lord Wylde to speak in such a manner. I want to apologize on his behalf Princess," she said, causing your stomach to tighten.

The Queen never apologized; not once could you recall a moment where she indeed had. High-borns never sought remorse for their actions from those beneath them. They believed themselves above such things, especially a Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. You were just a princess, not even in line for the Iron Throne should something tragic happen to the people before you, and yet Alicent was seeking forgiveness. Not even for her actions!

"I believe your apology is unwarranted; you've done nothing wrong. I should hear this from Lord Jasper and not you, my Queen," you replied, flicking a brown and purple eye at her.

Alicent clasped her hands together, a position they seemed never to leave as she nodded grimly. "Yes, I agree, but he would never wound his pride like that. 'Tis the only thing men like him have."

You couldn't hide your disbelief, trying not to bring attention to your reaction lest she decide to rescind this brief moment of peace between you. While her mocking slightly disarmed your caution, you still trod carefully, not adding anything to what you thought of "men like Lord Jasper Wylde." When Queen Alicent saw you would not further her chaffing, she quieted, the delicate grin on her plush lips fleeting.

"It was sad, what he said," Alicent continued thoughtfully, "about your lineage." You glanced at her from the corners of your eyes, not indicating your thoughts. "It's unfair that you're the only bastard who receives nothing."

You quizzically raised a manicured brow at her, willing your mouth not to scowl. "How so?"

"Your adopted brothers. It is no secret that their father is not who Rhaenyra claims to be." You didn't hide the distaste from your look, ceasing your pace alongside her.

"Careful where you tread, my Queen. Some might think what you're implying is treasonous."

Her nude lips pouted, her aureate viridian earrings swaying as she followed. "I know you believe it to be true. I trust that there is comfort in numbers, I suppose. The more bastards in the House, the more likely one would be willing to accept their claim."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed, continuing the direction Alicent had set, yet not knowing where it was to be.

"Truly, I do not understand where this hate of bastards comes from. Men have them more than legitiment ones; why is the Heir not held to the same standard?" you griped, ignoring the Queen's unhurried footfalls to catch up to you.

"Because men do not give their bastards titles. They are not set to inherit what their father has, just as you're not."

You stopped striding again, storming to Alicent like an orange flame emerging from a dragon's throat. "I do not need more titles or gold. My worth is not defined by a piece of parchment or coin like yours." Your chest heaved, the necklace resting upon it, glinting with each breath. "Your implications of my brothers' birth will not be so easily forgotten as the King. My Mother will hear of this, and I-"

"The same Mother who refuses to give you what her sons of equal lineage have?"

The urge to strike her was powerful, your mind a raging inferno of acrimony, anger, and a cold draft of hurt. You quickly shoved it away, focusing on the two you could feel clawing at your ribs to escape. But before you could put your emotions into words, a door opened, a short curly white-haired head peeking out.

Aegon's curious amethyst eyes flitted between you and his Mother, attempting to discern what your clenched fists and red face were about, holding a chalice in his hand. You looked back at Alicent in a mix of malice and disgust for having been so worked up that you didn't realize she had led you to her son's door. Alicent's face was schooled, her back straight and neck high, appearing the ever-regal Queen her father groomed her to be.

"Princess, come," Aegon called, his speech lightly slurred, "join me for a drink. You look like you need one."

You hid the sigh of defeat from Alicent, facing her son with a placid smile. "I do not believe it would be proper of me to join you in your chambers without a chaperone," you countered, though you desired greatly to run into his room and lose the ire of the day.

"You are family, Princess," the Queen chimed in, eager to have you distract her eldest son from drinking too heavily and inevitably embarrassing her.

You glared. She knew of Aegon's unkinship-like desire for you, yet, she was content with practically throwing you into his chambers unsupervised. Every expletive you could think of wanted to be thrown at her, but you held your tongue.

"If her Grace is all right with it," you curtsied, hatred beaming as your voice displayed the opposite. "I shall join you for a drink."

Aegon smiled joyfully, taking a swig of his chalice before opening the door wider as you entered, but not before throwing Alicent a nasty look, the Queen's face unchanging. 

You stormed over to the table in the middle of Aegon's greeting room, dragging the simple wooden chair on the stone floor as it screeched. Placing your head within your palms, you huffed, relaxing your constantly tense shoulders as the tipsy Prince sat across you.

"I wasn't lying when I said you look like you need a drink," Aegon teased, furthering his jesting with a slow sip from his cup.

Dismissing him with a shake of your head, you leaned back in your seat with your legs outstretched and face pointed to the ceiling in an unladylike position. You had already drunk an entire bottle worth of alcohol today, and it was only a handful of hours after midday, and waking up the next morn with a cotton mouth and a pounding headache did not seem like a pleasant idea.

"Perhaps I shall make you come, then, for a change." In response, you tilted your head down, your chin tucking into your chest, eyes in incredulous slits. "You always take such good care of me, little one. Let me return the favor."

You couldn't deny that the idea was appealing. It had been ages since you dove into the soothing water that was pleasure, always preoccupied with Aegon, social events, and politicking. The only moments you ever felt that insatiable need the spoiled Prince seemed to have was with him, but more important things were at hand during those moments.

Your pleasure was not a priority, only his. He was the one that needed to become smitten with you. When he finally was, you would give him a choice, stay with his little Princess under the warmth of your bossom, drinking wine and eating all the sweet cakes he could stomach, or die seated on the Iron Throne as your dragon's flames melted the swords into his flesh.

"I do not need tending to, Aegon, but your offer is much appreciated," you replied, standing as you walked toward the open balcony doors.

The air was sweet, filled with the pollination of flowers and trees, the temperature mild, not too hot, nor too cold, a light-sleeved gown sufficient. Aegon quickly followed after you, resuming a mirrored position from the table on the railing, following your gaze to the southern side of Kings Landing.

He wished so ardently for you to give in to your human desires. It had been months of you living within the Red Keep, something Aegon had prayed to the Old Gods and the New since you left him. He spent countless sleepless nights buried high within his cups and deep within women's cunts to cope with his misery, going so far as to request particular whores with the same dark hair as you to bleach a strand to match yours. Nothing worked. It was never enough, never you.

Until now.

The most you had shown Aegon of the cunny he dreamed of was a glimpse on one secret night where his Mother had been particularly cruel with her words, something or other about spending time with his children. You had comforted him with a soothing ballad of kind words and lifting your skirts. Aegon came with such a force that he thought he saw the Stranger. He finally understood why they were called little deaths, for if he had spent like that every time, he would be dead by now.

Aegon perked at your sigh, watching your dress glitter in the sunlight as you crossed your arms. You looked like you belonged to him then, adorned in the same gold and opulence he loved to wear. He imagined then what life would have been like if you became his wife and not his dreamy-eyed sister.

How many children would you have now? Would he still have the twins? 

Aegon chuckled at the thought, catching your curious stare as he quieted. No, most certainly not. He would never leave you a moment unswollen if you wed. You would have sired at least six children if your body and the Gods allowed it. Your breasts would weigh heavy on your back, and Aegon, the ever-doting husband, would heal you from that pain. He would fuck you until the babe's head dropped, and you could see its lanugo hair. He would stay by your side through every moment of your birthing despite the impropriety of it. Then, after that, Aegon would care for the wounds his child caused, dabbing at your tender womanhood and applying the ointments the Maester prescribed.

A thumping in Aegon's cock tore him from his fantasies, reeling him into the present. You unmarried and babeless, him a piss poor father for his current children and neglectful husband to his real wife. He brushed the thought from his mind, not wanting to fall into the home that was his self-loathing. You were right across from him, deep into your head. He could give it to you now, what he desired, and see how your little deaths would rake through your whole body.

"I can sense you staring," your voice struck like the water he fell into at Blackwater Bay this past winter, "and why you are doing so. You will not make me come, Aegon. I've no want for it."

"Is that a challenge, little one," he teased, pushing off the red stone banister and sauntering towards you.

"No," you answered, facing him with a steeled expression. "It's a command."

"Awe, but Princess, the look in your eyes says differently."

You guffawed, your brows shooting to your hairline as you tilted your head. "You must be drunk then, for you are seeing things. Come now, let's sober you up."

You signaled for him to follow as you walked back inside, only to be stopped by Aegon's deft hands. He moved you more forcefully than possible, dragging you back to your former spot and caging your legs between his.

"Aegon, be serious," you declared, attempting to move his limbs but failing. Despite his lack of training, Aegon could be relatively strong when he wanted.

"I have waited years for you to return to me. I have cried, alone at night in my chambers, praying that the Gods bring you back." You watched him with a look of surprise and sympathy, reaching your arm out to stroke his cheek, something you knew disarmed him, but he swiftly snatched it. "But they did not answer. Now, I have you, and I shall never let you leave."

Aegon's lips crashed against yours without warning, his pink tongue making its way to tangle with yours. You were frozen at the sudden foreign sensation, leaving your jaw to hang loosely open before he shoved a knee betwixt your thighs. The beads of your dress created harsh pinpricks of pleasure on your pearl, causing your mouth to open and your body to slacken, Aegon deepening the kiss instinctually. Your back arched over the stone railing, the Prince's hold being the only thing to keep you from tumbling to your death, digging your fingers into the fabric of his doublet for leverage. If you were to fall, you would ensure the unspoken heir would do so with you.

Aegon's mouth left yours, taking the chance to regain both your breaths before he dove back in, sucking and nipping at the expanse of your neck. His hands began to explore downward on your body, his nails catching on the metal orbs sewn into the fabric, treading lower, lower, and lower until he bunched the fabric of your skirt in his grip.

"Aegon." You tried to sound firm, but the word became a whimper. Squirming in his grasp to leave, you only became weak, the steady placement of his knee rubbing against that sacred area, turning your muscles to mush. "Stop."

He shushed you in response, nuzzling his nose behind your ear, inhaling the welcoming smell of lavender and dragon. "It's all right, little one. I'm here. You deserve this," he cooed, snaking his palm across your navel and down to your heat.

He felt the hair there, more plentiful than when Aegon last touched it, brushing over the coarse strands before entering a finger between your lips. You cried out at the coldness of his digits against your sensitive core, trying to heat his touch before venturing further.

"You're soaked, sweet girl," he purred into your ear, nibbling at the decorated lobe. "Why do you deny yourself so? You do so much for the kingdom, for your family," Aegon paused, parting your damp lips and sliding a slick finger over your bud as warmth shot through you, "for me." Your leg hitched at his touch, moaning loudly as his pad drew circles.

"I don't-" you wept, cutting yourself off as you felt a coil in your stomach form.

"You don't what?" he mocked, pressing firmer and causing a spark of ecstasy to bolt through you. "Don't want it? No." Aegon shook his head, answering for you. "You don't deserve it? No again. You do more in a day than my wastrel father did during his entire reign."

Aegon went faster now, his finger rubbing harder than before and making you leak onto your thighs. "Don't... talk about your father," you said breathily, your head leaning on his.

You felt the vibration of his laugh in your skull, giving you a momentary peck to your jaw in apology as his other hand dropped the skirt of your gown and wrapped it around your waist to grind into his touch. Your chest was heaving, your heart pounding, the wire inside your abdomen rapidly tightening with each refined movement.

"You deserve this. You know you deserve this," Aegon repeated, using your moistness to go faster. "I want you to say it. I want you to say it when you come," he haughtily commanded, his voice thick.

His fingers were too focused, his touch too good, and you were so, so deprived of intimacy. With a few more circles, rubs, and kisses, you felt the words tumbling off your lips, the coil wound too tight as your neglected cunt soaked his fingers with appreciation.

"I deserve this!" you shouted into the cerulean sky, Aegon's digits working you through your climax. "I deserve this, I deserve this, I deserve this," you rambled, your body having a mind of its own.

"You do, little one," he praised. "Let them hear it. Let them know your worth."

"I deserve this," you mewled one last time, nodding your head against the side of his resting on your shoulder, looking like the many cats of the Keep marking their scent. Aegon peppered you with kisses as you inhaled gulps of air. Your legs twitched, and you struggled to stand as the aftershocks subsided, held by only the Prince's strength.

It was impossible to think clearly, to fully grasp what had happened. The months, perhaps even years of negligence you spent with self-pleasure, finally coming to a rearing head, clouding your mind. The consequences of your actions failed you. Your only thoughts of how Aegon slowly dropped to his knees, pulling your skirt higher as he looked up with a mischievous yet admirable look in his violet eyes, his mouth latching onto your puffy cunt with a grin.

"One more," he murmured, his moist breath tickling, "I just need one more."

***

Aegon had lied. He did not only pry one more climax from you but three in total. Once on the terrace, back draped over the railing, your hair hanging over the ledge. The second time underneath the caring disguise of wiping away the slick from your core, only to be met with his middle and ring finger inside your tight velvet walls, and finally, the third, with a combination of his tongue and digits.

You knew you shouldn't have trusted the boy. Aegon was known throughout the Seven Kingdoms for having an appetite that no amount of whores, food, or wine could satisfy. You didn't realize it extended to another's pleasure also. Your bones were made of the Apple Muse you adored by the end, your muscles so weak from the rapid tensing and untensing as he ripped those little deaths from you. 

When all was said and done, the whore of a Prince took great care of you, ensuring your throbbing cunny was clean from both your fluids, and servants brought a pitcher of water.

You were drifting asleep, an action you knew was unwise to do with Aegon around. The possibility of waking with the intrusion of his cock inside your wall was at the forefront of your mind. That fear was the only thing that kept you from drifting off when your body all but screamed for it. You took to speaking with him to distract yourself from rest, reminding him with mumbles that you promised Helaena that you would dine with her tonight. Aegon would have to play the husband's role again and see his children.

It was always difficult to return to Helaena knowing what you had done with him but not the guilt an adulteress would have. Yours was different. Shame that you were playing a game with her husband, knowingly partaking in these acts of scandal towards a goal and not for the pleasure of it. You did not know which was worse.

You were sure that Helaena would not be upset for your actions as a typical Lady Wife would, for she didn't love him like one. You supposed she would be grateful for what you were doing, keeping him away from the Silk Streets, gambling houses, and fighting pits. Ensuring there were no more bastards than there already were running around in Kings Landing. Well, that was what you convinced yourself, at least so you could look at the People's Princess without your sins written across your face.

The timber of Aegon's voice tickled your ear, snapping open your eyes that you didn't realize were closed. "I had the maids tell Helaena that we shall dine in my rooms tonight," he chuckled to himself, pecking you on the cheek with a grin, "since you are in no shape to make the journey to her's."

You nodded, unable to protest, and pushed yourself against the headboard to make yourself more alert. Aegon scooted into place beside you, resting his head on your shoulder while he played with the rings on your fingers. 

You still couldn't process what happened; disappointment was the only thing you could feel. The heavy-weighing claws of it tugging on your heart and dragging it into a bottomless dark pit, constantly carrying, pulling, weighing down on you until you felt the searing pricks of tears in your eyes. 

You had let yourself down and succumbed to the pleasures of the flesh that had ruined so many great men in history. You promised to focus only on Aegon and his desires, and wrongfully, you thought it would be easy. You had anticipated that the Prince was like all other men with sex, only seeking their release, and hadn't planned for him to seek yours out. By all accounts, Aegon had been just that. 

This was the first moment he had wanted you to reach ecstasy during your entire stay. The most Aegon ever begged for was a glimpse of your tits and cunny, working himself in his own hands during the process. Where had the sudden urge to pleasure you emerge from? 

Perhaps the plan was going better than you thought. It's only natural for a man to desire a woman's warm embrace eventually. Still, you hadn't realized it would come at the unreciprocating hands of Aegon the Drunk and only for him not to want something in return. You had long ago made peace with the fact that you would endure the tearing of your maidenhead by him and expected nothing more to bear but this... Aegon had opened something locked tightly inside of you, and your mind could not understand it, so it found the only thing it did: hatred. Not hatred towards the eldest Prince but toward yourself. 

You loathed yourself for what you did, what you allowed. You would understand the reasonings behind the act if it was only once, but you had allowed Aegon to take, take, take from you, willingly, knowing your morals. It was your fault for what happened. There was no one to blame but yourself. 

You searched desperately for anything to justify what happened. Did it bring the unsung heir closer to you? No. You would've had the same results if you had just let him rape you. It further helped make Aegon realize he wanted to be with you more than having riches? No. The climax after edging him ten times would make him learn that. What was the justification? 

You hadn't realized your chest began to pant, alarming the Prince beside you to look over in concern. You felt sick at the sight. His perfectly chiseled marble face staring at you with his amethyst eyes twinkling with rising worry, and you rolled off the bed, stumbling. Your body shook, shoulders tensed to your ears as your fists trembled, pacing aimlessly across his room. Succinct gasps left your quivering lips, tears welling in your eyes but refusing to fall. 

Aegon watched with horror as you ran back and forth across the length of his bed chambers like a caged animal. He had no idea what to do, trying to call out to get your attention but receiving no response. Your hands go to your ears, trying to block out the sounds of a near-silent room as you hiccup. 

Suddenly, the ground beneath Aegon shuddered with a bone-rattling shake, quickly glancing down and then up to see the dust from his ceiling falling to the floor. An ear-bursting roar boomed through the entirety of King's Landing, causing the filled cups of his room to vibrate in their place. He felt the stone floor shake again with the moving of the dragon's footsteps, no doubt belonging to Cannibal. 

Aegon ran to you swiftly at your dragon's second room, seeing the edge of orange flames and smoke rising in the sky from his opened balcony doors. He knew of the bond a rider and their mount possessed, having witnessed it with his own Sunfyre when he too was upset, but never at this length. Cannibal was wild and still barely tamed, unaware of the social norms humans had that the others of his species understood. More roars sounded, but softer this time, as if they were in the distance. Aegon ignored them, focusing on trying to pry your digits that had wound themselves into your braided hair, your scalp blanched and roots nearly showing. 

He said your name first, attempting to gather your attention from where it had run off, but that didn't work. Nothing worked. No amount of cooing and soothing, as one would do to a child, made it past your deaf ears. Aegon began to narrowly mirror your panic, his eyes wide as he searched desperately to find a way to calm you down. He had never seen you in such a state, nor anyone else for the matter, and felt the sting of tears gather in his eyes. 

"Please, speak to me," he beseeched, voice thick with fear. "I've no clue how to help you." 

Your pacing ceased when your slippered foot caught on the misplaced leg of a stool, falling to the ground with a strangled yelp that Cannibal seemed to mimic. Aegon took this time to fall onto the floor next to you, gathering you into his arms as you flailed and booted like a lamb stolen from its Mother. Before he could think better of it, Aegon slapped his hand over your mouth, recalling how he saw a stableboy do that with a spooked colt. 

You squirmed and wriggled like a wounded rabbit caught in a snare, screaming like one into his palm as your blunt nails scratched across his cheek. Aegon ignored the stinging, using every ounce of strength he accumulated from training, brawling, and fucking to hold you down, nearly escaping him twice before he laid you underneath him, arm wrapped around your stomach on the icy stone floor. He pinned you there until your struggling ceased, the rapid flaring of your nostrils coming to a halt. 

When Cannibal's midnight wings flapped in the air, Aegon knew you were calm, feeling secure enough to release you with the gentle draw of his hands. He let you rest there for what felt like ages, scrutinizing every involuntary twitch of your muscles lest he have to repeat himself. The call of Arbor Red was firm in his veins, but he disregarded it, shuffling until his back hit something to rest on. 

The first words out of your mouth were not what he expected, sounding so small and defeated, causing him to pause before he understood briefly. "I must fix my hair before Princess Helaena arrives. Do you have a brush?"

Aegon silently nodded before he realized you could not see him, your cheek still pressed into the floor and facing away. "Yes," he answered aloud, bumbling over to his rarely used oak vanity. 

He handed the silver brush as you sat upright and took apart your maids' handy work, fixing the style into something more straightforward and placing the pearl pins accordingly. Aegon observed with caution, keeping at least ten paces from you as if you were a rabid beast. You didn't fault him for it, nor dislike it, simply too numb to feel. 

"Is it all right?" You startled Aegon, him taking a moment to realize that you were speaking. 

"Of course," he nodded eagerly though you couldn't see, and you hummed in assent. 

"The servants should be near done setting the table. We should wait for Helaena and the children there," you stated blandly, rising from your kneeled position and smoothing your dress. 

Aegon agreed noiselessly, leading you to his solar as cautiously as he could, watching for any sign that he might lose you again, but there weren't any. Ony the cold countenance of apathy that he had only seen once before when staring at the severed head of your kin. The expression haunted him to this day, guilt rising in his throat like the burning feeling of acid, taking an armchair a respectable distance away. 

Masterlist of Series

Once again, I'd like to thank you for your patience during my break. I lived in my George R. R. Martin era, but don't worry; this series won't take 27+ years to finish XD. For some reason, this post won't let me upload my full taglist, so I did it as a reblog in case you wondered why it's different. According to my idea chart, we're a little under halfway through the story, but honestly, it doesn't even feel like it. There are so many things ahead. It's just mind-boggling. Like, there's one point where shit hits the fan, and it's like, "whaaaat". I want to spoil it because it's crazy, but I shall keep my lips sealed. Anyway, thank you so much for reading this chapter and continuing this journey with me!!

Also, did you like my Miss Congeniality reference hidden in there? XD

[theoceanoasis]

Just read the deity Rodimus/Hot Rod and loved it. And had a idea about the a potential part reaction of the others on the lost light.

I just I imagine Drift worshipping Rodimus/Hot Rod even more. In canon he already kisses the floor Rodimus walks on since he is a prime. But now he is also a son of primus and a deity.

Man will be following him like a lost puppy even more. Which might make Soundwave get the ick of the religious fool. Heck I do think about everyone on the Lost light will act more respectful and always be at his back and call.

Rodimus/Hot Rod on the other hand hates that now the others treat him like a friend or their captain but a deity.

(Also now the cassettes are friendlier to Rodimus/Hot Rod since he saved Ravage.)

"Let me get that for you."

"No Drift that's not necessary."

"Of course it is."

His friend opened the door and went to walk inside when he stopped him.

"Can I please be alone?"

"Are you sure?"

Drift tilted his head giving him a confused look like he didn't understand.

"Maybe I should do a quick check to make sure no one's hiding inside."

"Drift please. If anyone tries to attack me I'll take care of them myself."

"Rodimus your a child or Primus. You shouldn't be fighting. You should be sitting on an alter being praised."

He gave his friend a shocked look and tried to hide it behind a nervous giggle. Hoping he'd misheard him. Sadly he hadn't as Drift continued talking to him with reverence. Forgetting that he was more than just a deity. He was also his Amica and didn't like being treated this way.

Feeling upset he lashed out snapping at Drift.

"Stop using me to make up for all the things you did as Deadlock."

His friend gave him a shocked expression, looking like he'd been slapped.

He shut the door in his face and collapsed onto his bed where he cried himself to sleep. The last few days had been a nightmare. Everyone was treating him differently besides Soundwave.

They were constantly following him around especially Drift. Praising him for everything he did and treating him like he was some kind of god they needed to bow down to.

He always wanted to be respected by his crew but not like this. They weren't even treating him like a person anymore .

He hated it. The only good thing was that he'd been able to get back his ship. The crew who'd betrayed him had fallen to their knees begging for forgiveness. He'd almost been sick the only thing stopping him from running away and hiding forever was Soundwave.

He was a constant support during this time who let him vent and treated him like a person. Loving him for who he truly was. Not as some untouchable deity.

He was awoken by someone pecking at him and another person throwing off his sheets.

"What?"

He looked around confused to see Soundwave's cassettes.

"Are you okay?"

"Ravage gave him a concerned look while Fenzy gave him some energon. He looked at it for a long moment still waking up.

"Not you too."

He flopped back in bed. Thinking Soundwave's cassettes were only being nice to him because he was a deity.

Laserbeak pecked him on the head and the others laughed.

"We're not here because you're a deity or whatever. We're here because you saved Ravage and Soundwave likes you. Which means you're part of our family and we look out for each other."

"Yeah. We'll beat up anyone who bothers you."

Rumble cheered.

"If you want I can talk to Dea-- Drift and Megatron. Help them come to their senses."

The others nodded in agreement and looking around at all their support he cried. Causing the cassettes to become alarmed until he managed to say.

"Thank you."

They all jumped onto his bed and hugged him. Cuddling together in one big pile. Surrounded by their fields it felt like he was part of one big happy family.

That's how Soundwave found them when he came to check on Hot Rod. A family snuggled together waiting for him to join them.

[dark-elf-writes]

Two geniuses that despite their intellect and skill are black sheep in their clans. Two isolated kids that latch onto each other during the academy and absolutely refuse to let go.

Their friendship with a “rival dojutsu clan member” alienating them even further from their own families.

Them graduating early and being placed on the genin team of the White Fang, a man who’s skill overshadowed the Sannin while in his prime (aka rn).

Them meeting a little baby kakashi and secretly making him their team mascot (Sakumo thinks it’s hilarious and his face eyes get suspiciously watery when the Uchiha huffs at how Sakumo holds the baby like a puppy and holds him himself)

Their team being like a family even after they’re all Jonin. The third teammate abandoning them after Sakumo’s mission and distancing from them all. Sakumo’s depression getting even worse because not only is it his comrades, but someone from the team he trained since they were scrappy little pups chasing at his heels.

The three of them getting into an argument that Sakumo overhears about their public connection to him putting their careers and reputations at risk. The Uchiha and the Hyuga telling the third to fuck off because who cares about a reputation when their father figure/ sensei is so clearly hurting.

The third teammate renouncing ties from the team in shame then defecting from Konoha entirely when the scorn doesn’t stop.

The hokage assigning the Uchiha and Hyuga to track their teammate down and bring them back dead or alive.

The two of them trying so goddamn hard to bring the person back alive but accidentally killing them when they throw themselves on a combo attack when it becomes clear they won’t win.

Them having to bring the body back and tell Sakumo. Sakumo who kills himself maybe a week later as the argument plays on repeat in his head. Connection to him only brought death, scorn, and grief. They’re all better off with him gone.

A Hyuga who cannot hold himself apart no matter how hard he tries. Who stands up and asks the uncomfortable questions about why their clan is split in two and how the caged bird seal, the forced servitude of their own family, makes them any better than the people who would steal their eyes after their deaths. Who always is a bit rumpled and too loud and too much for the straight laced people around him.

An Uchiha who turns to love rather than hate. Who constantly had a pack of younger kids (both clan and not) following at his heels from a young age. Who mastered the fireball jutsu so young but with no one there to see him do it. Who could be found teaching younger kids how to hold a kunai when he “should have been training”. Who woke his sharingan earlier than anyone had ever heard of after the death of his parents.

Both of them who latched onto each other the moment they met.

The both of them who learn the ins and outs of each other and compensate for it in every aspect of their lives. (The Uchiha who gets armored wrist guards added to his gear so he can block the Hyuga’s blind spot and is always half a step behind the Hyuga just in case. The Hyuga who after the death of Sakumo wakes the Uchiha’s Mangekyo Sharingan learns to help compensate for the eventual vision loss and the other side effects.)

The both of them who are the ones that find Kakashi and Sakumo after everything, with their hands still tacky with the phantom blood of their once family member killed at their hands, and have to figure out how to help a child when their own hearts are shattering. Who have to get Kakashi cleaned and the body prepared because they can’t trust anyone else to give either of them the honor and care they deserve. Who, when Kakashi says he wants to keep the clan house, take it upon themselves to take out the footing in Sakumo’s room and replace it so Kakashi doesn’t have to see it again.

Who are still kids in their own rights that are so fucking lost and scared but there’s a war on and they have to carry on.

Who check every body post battle to make sure the other isn’t among them until the other finds them.

Who swear to each other that if it comes down to it they will destroy each other’s eyes rather than let them fall into enemy hands.

Who trade eyes on a battlefield because they would trust no one else with it.

Who see kakashi come back carried in Minato’s arms passed out from chakra exhaustion and fear the worst before he tells them what happened.

Who stay with him, the last part of their sensei. Their baby brother. The kid they’ve been raising the last few years with Minato as a weird third coparent. Splitting their time in the hospital and refusing to go back out on a mission until he wakes up so Kakashi doesn’t have to be alone.

Who help Kakashi get used to life with essentially only one eye, accustomed to the adjustments they need to make from when the Hyuga first started to get used to his sharingan and offering what they learned the hard way so freely so Kakashi doesn’t have to go through the same painful trial and error that they did.

[that-one-weeb-but-it-transformer]

Autobots w/ a young

cybertroian Archivist

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Summary: your young, naive, and an archivist from Iacon, Orion Pax taught you everything you know he was your mentor after all

Reader: Cybertroian | Gender Netural

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Orion Pax, litterally your poster wall hero

You were young when the war started: and placed on Iacon's archivist team before war the really broke out

Young Iacon Archivist were then loaded with information, sensitive information on both sides

It was certain Orion took care of you, he taught you everything, and even before he was truly Optimus Prime he helped in sending you away

So imagine when they find an decepticon pod capped in ice and this archivist falls out

"Optimus. Is this who I believe it to be?"

"It's Y/n..."

"Alright! Y/n!" Miko cheered then stopped, "Uh who's Y/n?"

"Y/n was a young cybertroian archivist." Optimus spoke, "that I mentored personally."

So Ratchet spends his time trying to warm you up which you take to quickly.

God the conversations Ratchet could have with you. Finally someone could understand his talk

"So that means you got another prime then?" Jack asked, "or. Basically? Right?"

"Another Prime?" Bulkhead asked.

"We'll be unstoppable." Arcee smiled.

:easy pickins now!: Bee beeped.

"Im afraid that I must disappoint you all." Optimus started, "Y/n is not war-"

"No! Don't touch me! Don't touch me!"

Optimus was quick to rush at the sound of your shouting

Ratchets trying to calm you down but thats doing squat shit

"Y/n. You must calm down." Optimus coaxed.

Y/n was quick to look up at him. Needless to say Y/n was scared scrapless, falling off the medbay and scooting away.

"Y/n. You are just awaking from Statis-"

Still Y/n tried to stand to run, ending in the bot falling over.

Bulkhead picked you up with the help of Bumblebee but it ended in Bulkhead being headbutted, and you hurting yourself even more

"Ow..." y/n complained, that'd leave a massive helm ache later on.

"You archivist are certainly something else." Ratchet commented, kneeling down to get a better look at you as you sat on the floor, knees in as you rubbed your helm, he moving a servo away to get a look at you, "But your tempature is starting to-"

Ratchet had gotten too close, Y/n bitting into his servo as Y/n quickly got up to run away.

"Wow. Slippery one." Arcee commented.

"I will go after Y/n." Optimus spoke, "stay here."

So Optimus goes to find you: but due to your not made for war frame: you can squeeze in areas to hide.

But then he finds you tucked away, your not even armed, but your hoping you'll just blend in.

"Y/n..." Optimus spoke, "We are not going to hurt you. Please."

Y/n was silent as Optimus kneeled down and looked at the bot, "It is me. Orion Pax."

That got you out of hiding quickly yet worriedly

It took you a moment, but you realized it: this was the guy...Orion Pax.

So he manages to coax you to atleast follow him

You do but you hide behind him

Smokescreen tries to friend you almost immediately, and he ends up running circles around Optimus with you

You're just trying to hide from Smokescreen in full honesty and Smokescreens just tryin to introduce himself happily

Everyone else seems happy to see you and meet you but its too much at once

You just contuine to hide.

Especially from Miko

Wheeljack and Bulkhead scare you even if your intrested in the history and stories

And Arcee seems annoyed with you

Ultra Magnus. You were always terrified of him to begin with

Ratchets...alright and so is Bee

You really only trust Orion though

It maybe be a bit much to try and Coax you out from behind him

"O.Orion....what do I do?" Y/n questioned holding onto the back of his arm plating.

"Let Ratchet contuine to assest you for injury."

You let Ratchet look you over and apologize quietly for it.

Orion can't stray far from you before you start to panic

You tail him like a lost puppy at a constant

Not that he minds.

Reminds him when you two were back on Cybertron working together

You tell him anything thats up there in that noggin of yours but you'll only give it to him

Magnus finds you extremely disorganized and a complete wreck for a Archivist

And he makes it clear

Kinda just jealous of you and Optimus

He's really just jealous of Optimus

But we wont go into reasons why

Optimus has always been like a big brother for you, he teaches you all he can about earth

And he even takes you out for your first drive to find a vehicle mode

As much as he Loves you hanging around, he's gotta go and do missions while you help Ratchet

But...well...having the two younger bots hang around you isnt always...the best especially with Miko and Wheeljack joining you

Wheeljacks a little shit too you: doing anything to make you embarssed and unravel into a sputtering mess

You're the easiest to embarssing, and it dosent help that you're super curious about everything

Smokescreen and Miko. Not the best influences but they teach you the meaning of fun besides data pads and lectures which you enjoy quiet a bit

If its anyone Prime wants you hanging out with Ratchet or Bumblebee

Bumblebee becomes like a really close cousin as he's also super young and curious you guys explore together

Optimus often finds that you're quiet easily able to connect Cybertron to Nature on earth

And he will listen to all your findings

Its like your scouting report and its full of information on earth plants and things that they could use as fuel plentful things here on earth

Its real refreshing too from the same old decpeticon v autobot battles

"Well done Y/n." Optimus spoke, "I believe your reports should be shared with the team. Perhaps starting an archive."

"I'd be honored Orion!"

Oh to see your eyes light up so happily

It makes it much easier and infromation for the team, and you're able to decode things way faster than any of them.

Its impressive

You do tend to ramble as you go, but damn are you quick

"See The decipticons...."

And there you go, the autobots are in shock with your quick talking and typing, talking about parts of the war you werent even there for, jumping to Iacon then to Kayon and its making some of the helms spin.

"But anyway- Oh! Two coordinates! See! Easier than organizing records on file."

Its litterally become a past time on the autobots and thats how you manage to fit in

Arcee and Wheeljack will litterally bet on how fast you can decode

While Bulkhead and Miko always try and help you in beating your all time record.

"Best time yet!" Miko cheered.

"Alright Y/n!" Bulkhead praised.

It also turns out your the only one going to stand up to Ultra Magnus

[smallghostcorner]

Scare actor!Eddie who stumbles upon Little!Billy and the latter just follows him around like a lost puppy while they look for his caregiver?

upside-downless au Eddie also doesn't know any of the party

Eddie looked over to his right and could make out a man sitting with his back turned to him, though his vision was limited Eddie recognized him as Billy Hargrove one of the guys who bullied him in high school.

He smiled a mischievous smile as he snuck up behind him, he tapped Billy on the shoulder and yelped in his face.

Billy shouted and covered his eyes with his hands, a sob escaping him.

Eddie ripped off his clown mask in concern and kneeled down so he could look at Billys face.

He noticed tear tracks running down his face with new tears starting to run down his face.

"Hey it's just me" Eddie tried his best to soothe him, Billy looked up at the sound of his voice, he was definitely crying.

Billy sniffled but calmed a bit as he saw Eddie gently smiling at him.

"What are you doing all by yourself?" Eddie cocked his head.

"Lost maxy a lucas" Billy muttered, a bit embarrassed. His voice was a bit higher than normal and his words were slightly slurred.

Eddie didn't know how to respond, on one hand this could be prime blackmail material but, on the other hand this felt incredibly vulnerable and intimate.

"Let's go find them okay?" Eddie decided to be kind, be the bigger person and all that. Besides Billy hadn't bothered him since their senior year together.

Eddie a Billy stoop up and Billy grabbed Eddies hand. He didn't want to get lost again.

"Do you know where they were last?" Eddie asks.

"Dey were by haunted house" Billy says.

They head in that direction looking for the young teens.

They eventually find them at the information booth nearby.

When Billy spots them he shouts and runs over to them.

"Oh thank god you're okay! We were worried sick" Lucas starts to fuss over him like a mother.

Eddie just kind of stands back and watches the moment, once Billy hugs both of them he points over at Eddie.

"He helped!" Billy says.

"Thank you so much" Lucas says to Eddie.

"It's really no problem" Eddie says a bit awkwardly unsure of what exactly to say.

"You have no idea how worried we were" Lucas laughs a bit.

[pl-panda]

To Marry a Vigilante: Part 7

MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next

----------

At least their purchases were found undamaged. That was a little upside to the disaster of the supervillain attack. Marinette suspected Tikki might’ve had something to do with this, but didn’t comment. Police kept the rope dart as evidence, but they promised to return it as soon as it was possible. Marinette gave Gordon her number (after the commissioner was vouched for by Damian) and number to her mother. It was a possibility that she would’ve been called to court to testify. She was a prime witness and while her involvement declared only self-defense, Gordon told her in all honesty that the lawyer might try to put some blame on her. It was a sad reality, but Damian reassured both his beloved and the commissioner that they would be prepared. Waynes kept a contingent of lawyers not without reason. 

The teens were picked up by Alfred before the press figured out who the mysterious hero of the day was. Marinette really didn’t need more lights on her. It was enough that she agreed to make her relationship with Damian Wayne public at the gala. Objectively, she knew it was a better option than for the press to learn from students of Gotham Academy. Inside, she was dreading the event anyway. 

When they arrived at the manor, Sabine, Tom, and Bruce were waiting for them. The girls launched themselves at the woman and she pulled them into a hug. Damian followed slowly, not revealing any emotions. 

“I received a call from Jim,” Bruce began once they were behind the closed doors, “something about Firefly and brave teens stopping the attack.” He looked at all three of them with a judging glare. It wasn’t that he was disappointed, but it made the teens feel under deep scrutiny.

“It was all me!” Marinette confessed immediately. “He stopped us from escaping and we were with a bunch of kids. I just acted and I might have kinda accidentally… defeated him.” She spoke very fast. 

“Don’t worry, Sweetie. We’re not angry or anything.” Sabine quickly reassured her while sending a glare at Bruce.

“Well… Yes.” The billionaire nodded slowly. “But you could’ve been more careful.”

“Ridiculous!” Chloé stared at the Wayne patriarch. “Utterly ridiculous! Of course, Dupain-Cheng could’ve just run away and left those poor lost kids to die, but she stayed.”

“I didn’t mean…” The man tried to speak, but the blonde ignored him. 

“But no! Mr. Batman thinks that suddenly protecting others without the suit is somehow wrong. I didn’t see you on the scene at all. There was Red Hood, but he arrived there only after Mari already took out that flying pyromaniac.”

“I just…”

“So don’t go off on us preaching safety when you have your kids running on the rooftops every night.” 

“But…” Bruce had no idea what just happened. He only wanted to congratulate them…

“I did get all the fabrics I will need, but we didn’t get to eat.” Mari decided to change the subject and spare her father-in-law further humiliation at Chloé’s hands.

“The lunch will be ready in five minutes. You can take it in the dining room.” Alfred spoke from behind Bruce, startling the poor billionaire. It was apparently not his day. 

When the group moved there and took their seats, joined by Cass, who was the only other permanent resident of the Manor, Marinette decided on the next subject. 

“And how did the Class trip go?” She asked her mother with a bright smile. The woman sent her a tired look in response. 

“They are monsters. I sympathize with their parents if that’s how they act every day…” 

“They can’t be that bad, love.” Tom tried to defend the kids, but several stares from around the room would kill him if it was possible. “I meant can. My English is bad. I meant can.” He raised his hands in surrender.

“That Lila girl is indeed a talented manipulator when she is not going overboard. If I didn’t know her, I might’ve actually fallen for her lies. And she even doesn’t resort to lies anymore.” 

“What?!” Marinette was glad that she only got the lunch served and didn’t yet eat anything. “No way!” 

“Yes. It looks like she established herself as an internet star to the point where she is somewhat famous.” 

“Tt. She is still a harlot.” Damian muttered loud enough for everyone to hear. 

“The modeling for the Gabriel brand and Ladyblog. Outside of Paris, it would make her into a star of some internet super-hero show in addition to a front-page model!” Marinette was suddenly enlightened. “I can’t believe her lies actually worked!” She collapsed in her chair, resigned. “Guess lying did work for her in the end…” Her face took a look of a beaten puppy.

“Say a word, Angel, and we can make you into three times the star she might be,” Damian spoke and Chloé nodded in agreement. 

“It’s not that!” The bluenette tried to protest. “I just… Her lies hurt people. I told her that it wouldn’t work in the long run, and she proved me wrong ten times over…” 

“Lila… bad.” Cass frowned. “Hurt Nettie.”

“Cass…” The girl tried to say something, but her cousin continued.

“I will… hurt Lila.” She stated confidently. 

“No!” Marinette protested. “I’ve got enough trouble stopping Damian and my mom!” 

“She is bad,” Cass stated confidently. 

“Cassandra.” Bruce glared at his daughter, but before he could explain things to her, Sabine intervened. 

“Sweetie, I appreciate you wanting to help Mari, but we must also respect her wishes. Even if I already have a place chosen… Never mind.” She smiled brightly before anyone questioned her. 

The whole table exploded into laugher while Damian and Cass smiled wider than usual. It was just such… a familial scene. Like they weren’t a bunch of superheroes, but a happy family. Even if the talk was about murder. 

----------

In a dark, damp room two people stood opposite one another. The male figure had a dark purple suit with the signature butterfly brooch pinned to the top of the shirt. His chest was protected by two black flaps that looked a bit like the moth wings. In his black gloves, he held a cane topped with a purple orb. The face was covered by a simple domino mask that did nothing to hide the mane of blonde hair on top of his head. 

On the opposite was a woman in a dark-blue dress that hugged her figure very tightly. The clothing ended barely above her bust, continuing with a sparkly net that was almost translucent. From under the cut starting just below the belt, her legs were also visible and covered in the same sparkly net. The blue/purple of her skin clashed slightly with the dress, but the sparkles of the fancy net managed to offset it to the point it was barely noticeable. Her deep-blue hair was pinned back into a rather messy bun with two long strands framing her face.

“Are you sure?” The young man asked. 

“Don’t worry,” she dismissed. “My grandma reassured me that this is perfectly safe. Besides, it’s too late to stop now.” She grinned and pointed her folded fan at the ground. When she unfolded it, several candles lit with pink flames, bathing the room in an eerie light. The light reached to three bodies laid in circles drawn with their blood. The two figures in the center were also in a runic circle. 

“The bond will not interfere with my Princess?”

“Whatever that vile American did to her must have hurt her badly. You do want to save her and lift the curse, right?” She grinned when there was a new fire in his eyes. “And I told you about my demands.”

“I’m still not convinced.” He glared at her. “And I told your grandfather that his demands are ridiculous.” 

“They are my demands.” She corrected him in an amused voice. “If you don’t want my help…” 

“Fine. I will do it.” He suddenly closed the distance between them until they were face to face. “But don’t even try to trick me. I’ll know and I will end you. Nothing will stop me from getting what I want.” 

In response, she gave him a quick peck on the lips. Immediately, the boy recoiled. She just licked her lips. “Whatever you want, beloved.”

“Ugh. Let’s just get done with this.” 

The candles went out one by one when the female chanted in Latin. When the twelfth and last one died out, the room was once more dark. Then, the runes lit and red light enveloped both of them. She reached to the center and grabbed a small goblet. After taking a sip, she handed it to the boy. 

He hesitated for a moment, but then also took a sip. They were both enveloped in deep scarlet light until it died out and both of them fell unconscious on the ground.

----------

Marinette and Chloé had to go with the class for the next trip, which was to the Botanic Garden. Damian and surprisingly Cass also joined them. And this was how the class almost signed their death warrant and handed it to Sabine. 

As soon as the guide started speaking about various plants they had there, Alya and Lila started gossiping in the back. 

“...told you she was a…”

“...I can’t believe he would…”

“...and that black-haired…”

“If it was up to…”

“I bet she just…”

“Maybe it’s a thing here?” 

Finally, Sabine had enough. She asked the guide for a five minutes break to rein in the misbehaving group. Caline tried to protest, but she was silenced when the older woman looked her in the eyes with fires of fury. 

“Listen up, because I’m not going to be repeating myself.” She started. “Cassandra is my niece, who lives in Gotham. By a lucky turn of events, she turned out to know Damian and agreed to accompany me and Marinette today.” She glared at every student in the group. Sabine noted that Alix stood alone in the back, separate from Max and Kim. “She is a precious little bean and if any of you dare to say anything bad about her again without even trying to talk to her first, I will personally see to it that your trip will be very-” She made sure to put emphasis on the word “-unpleasant. And if you even think about hounding her, I will see you suspended.”

“Now… Sabine, I think you’re…” Madame Bustier tried to defuse the situation.

“Caline. It is, and always will be for you, Madame Cheng. I’m on this trip to make sure they behave. If you’re not going to help me, try not to make my job harder than it already is.” She huffed and looked back at the class. “Am I understood?”

Several barely audible “Yes” could’ve been heard if someone tried hard enough. 

“Good for now.” Sabine looked at their guide. “I’m sorry I had to interrupt.” 

“No worries Mrs. Cheng.” The woman chuckled. “Anyone who tries to badmouth Cassandra or anyone from her family deserves your wrath.” 

“Good. We can continue.” And so the group moved on. 

Lila decided to change the subject of her lies and now kept talking about how good friends she was with Damian Wayne, or rather her Damiboo. It was clear that their guide wanted to add something, but Marinette’s boyfriend made a gesture to stop him. The grin on his face made it clear he had different plans.

After they finished the trip, the class was placed in the bus with Sabine while Damian and the girls were left free to wander around. Some tried to protest, but one murderous glare from Madame Cheng shut them up hard. 

“Why Marinette and Chloé are allowed to wander around with some boy, while we are confined to the Hotel!?” Kim protested. 

“Yeah! Lila can’t even meet her boyfriend!”

“It’s simple.” Sabine cut them off. “Marinette and Chloé are staying with Damian’s family, which is their host family for this trip. You will be meeting your host families after the new year.” She couldn’t stop herself from rubbing some more salt into Lila’s wound. She might be an adult, but it doesn’t stop her from being petty sometimes. Especially when someone decides to speak badly about her favorite (and hopefully only) niece. “If your… Damiboo was missing you so much, you could’ve asked him to invite you. Cassandra said he is attending Gotham Academy. I’m sure he would love to have you stay with him at Wayne Penthouse.” 

“Oh! He did want me so badly with them, but we agreed that it would be better for me to get to know some of his friends.” Lila answered quickly and Damian had to stiffen a groan. How could someone be so dense? 

“Suuure.” Sabine grinned. “Then please don’t complain about the situation of your own making.” It was clear that the discussion was over. Damian, Marinette, Chloé, and Cass were left to their own device. 

“Chlo, I love you like the best friend you are,” Mari started when they were alone, “but Damian’s got a date planned. So bye!” She said before running off with her husband, leaving the flabbergasted blonde and the noirette alone.

“Ice cream?” Cass pleaded.

“Fine. I guess I can hang out with you then.” 

“Ice Cream!” The other girl almost jumped in the air. 

----------

The couple walked through the gardens in silence, holding hands and enjoying the cool air around them. The temperature was warmer than outside, but still rather frosty. Marinette, feeling bolder, dragged Damian’s hand down slightly and pulled him closer to her. She cuddled into his shoulder and smiled. After dealing with the class, it was nice to have some peace, only the two of them. 

“So…” She started with a grin. “Wayne penthouse?”

“Tt. For your information, it’s where Drake and Brown live.”

“But Damiboo! You wound me! And I thought we could stay there together.” Marinette did her best Lila impression. 

He tried to scowl, but the end result was an unholy mix between scowling and grinning. 

They wandered around, laughing at occasional jokes and generally enjoying the time. At some point, Marinette dragged him to a hot-dog cart to enjoy what she called a ‘taste of America’. He couldn’t help but smile at some of her antics. They stopped for some coffee to rest their legs. He allowed her to talk most of the time, listening to all the details of her new outfit for Jagged Stone. 

“...so I decided to replace half of the usual silver studs with golden ones. Or rather gold-colored. He doesn’t actually like the wealth display that much and is all for replacing it with cheaper ones. When his producer one time tried to force me to make him everything with the actual gold, Jagged signed it and immediately donated it to The Gotham Orphanage.”

“I remember.” Damian’s memory flashed him an article about it. “And don’t be modest. It held your signature too.” 

“Well… He wanted to throw it to Fang first. It was so much not his style.” She smiled. “Bob almost had a stroke when he learned that he still had to pay for it full price. I think it was actually the first commission I accepted that was not priced like clothes for friends. I did deduce the cost of materials that he provided though.” 

“Habibti. You’re amazing.” 

She blushed at the compliment. “I’m not! I’m just a normal girl.” 

“An amazing normal girl.” 

“How can you be so smooth and so socially awkward at the same time?!” She squeaked.

“Because people are fools. You are perfection incarnated.”

“Stop it!” She giggled. “I’m not! I’m clumsy and awkward.”

“It doesn’t stop you from being perfect.” He countered. Before she could protest, he lifted a cookie and put it in her mouth. She bit it and munched it in silence. When she swallowed, he continued feeding her. In retaliation, she picked some whipped cream and gave it to him. They ended up feeding one another and laughing.

It was slowly getting dark, so they started walking toward where Alfred would pick them up. They still had some time, so Mari dragged Damian into the music store. There was a whole stand for Jagged Stone discs. 

Marinette, feeling devious, pulled out a marker and signed two before handing it to Damian. He thought for a short moment before making a small heart next to her name and putting down his autograph too. They hid the discs behind others and moved on. In the end, Marinette bought some ballet music for Cass that Damian told her she didn’t have yet. The bluenette liked her cousin and wanted to get her something for ditching her with Chloé

When they exited the store, Alfred was waiting there, ready to take them to the Manor. The two sat in the back of the limousine in silence, cuddled together. By the time they arrived at their destination, Marinette had dozed off. Not having the heart to wake her, Damian did his best to gently lift her and carry her to her room. Somewhere along the way, she clutched to him tightly and didn’t let go even when he placed her on the four-poster bed. He sighed. He didn’t know if he would survive the teasing he would receive after someone finds them. Scratch that. Sabine would kill him before that. 

Still, he would have to wake her up. With one more look to make sure the doors were closed, he lied next to her and stared up. He could at least stay awake, right?

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

Masterlist // Next

[cherripeach]

Chapter 5

Little Match Maker

Summary: Your life motto is “I have the power of god and anime on my side, don’t mess with me,” and you stand by that with your life. No human, magician, or random creature could ever stop your firm belief in it.

However, getting transported to this world that seemed to turn your already bad luck worse was not what you wanted to be in your life story, but you made the most of it.Making friends, enemies, and disasters, you were in your prime in this world, and so you decided to help as many people as you could flourish, at least what you believed to be.

Prologue 10.5: i want to see my little boy

Chapter Summary: Maybe some people at this school weren’t so bad.

Warning:  Curse words, jokes about death

Words: 2.9k

Relationships: developing but future twstxreader

After getting up off of the cement and cleaning all of the area up again because of the fight, your stomach started to sound like a whale and eat itself. Grim who had been complaining the entire time about not wanting to work and when lunch would be and sitting under a tree looked ecstatic as if he was just awarded a nobel prize. The cat was grinning up at you from under the tree while you were sweeping but said nothing.

Once your stomach growled louder for a second time, you called it quits, “Fine, let’s go get lunch.”

“Yipeeeeee!” Grim hopped up and sprinted to where you were with the broom. He began vigorously tugging on your mysterious, probably smelly, cloak once every second. Grim even though he did get in trouble for the fight seemed to have completely forgotten about it. He did not give off the vibes that he cared about the consequences of any of his actions.

A sigh slipped out of your lips while you shook your head and placed the broom in your hands onto the side of one of the statues, the one with Maleficent on it.

Grim, then, made grabby hands at you for you to pick him up and without amusement, you did. You placed him on your hip with your hand behind his back and began your track to the main building of the school.

The main building was a cursed old palace, so you got lost immediately after turning from the main hallway into another one. This place probably did have secret passages, but you don’t think those would help if you don’t even know where you are going.

The hallway was silent besides Grim’s cheers from next to your ear which hindered any sounds to go into that ear. Suspiciously, even with the lack of sound, there was no movement anywhere in the part of the building you were located. The hallway was covered in spiderwebs and had trash sprinkled through it; it did not look like a hallway regularly used. You even spun around once to make sure this wasn’t a prank and people weren’t following you. And in your effort you found that either it was during class and no one was moving or you were in an abandoned hallway which sounded closest to the answer.

However, there was nothing you could do besides keep going straight to see if you could find anybody because you do not remember which way you came down from. The hallways did change a litte, but gave the overall aesthetic of fairy tale grunge. You were now in a hallway with big open window sills giving sight to the outside and the odd well in the middle of the area.  The well was much brighter and welcoming than at night when you last saw it, so in your haze of tiredness and hunger you approached it. Grim who was still on your hip had started to protest your actions and threw his hands around him to make you drop him or stop going off track, so you dropped him right in a bush and continued with your trip to the well.

Upon closer inspection the well was in great condition and had no other problems than it was the 21st century and was located in the middle of this weird outdoors area of a school for young villains. Now that you thought about it though everything is weird in a school that trains villains.

You decided to become the one scene in Snow White but looking down at yourself in the water only brought your attention to your appearance which was not at all put together. The cloak even looked shabby on you compared to all of the gorgeous men that were wearing the same outfit yesterday. You did notice that there was a smudge of something on your face, so you grabbed your thumb and tried to swipe it off. However, after three times, nothing was working. Then, you bent forward to view your face better from the water and stood on your tippy toes.

Neither of those actions worked out for you in the end when you slipped on a piece of your cloak and flew forwards to bang your head on the bricks of the other side of the well, but you were instantly caught after hitting your head by someone’s hand or something grabbing the back of your collar. Death by a well did not seem like a way to go.

Stunned in your fall and catch situation, you did not move an inch from where the hand that held the back of your collar placed you which was with the other side of the well in front of your face. At least, until the person behind you gasped and dragged you up.

You were slowly lifted off your feet to come face to face with a long man with horns or something, so you assume he is either a cosplayer or a weird demon like thing.

“I was not aware that falling into wells was something a child of man would concern themselves with,” The huge man actually pouted at you, and he tilted his head as if he was confused at the prospect of you falling into a well.  

“I can’t say for everyone, but I would never purposely fall into a well. They just seem too sketch, but I did trip on my cloak, so thank you for that, dude,” As childlike as the man was, you couldn’t be mean to him when he did help you from dying a miserable death.

“‘Dude’?” The man who still had you by the collar of your cloak which you were quite impressed with tilted his head to the side more. “What do you mean by ‘dude,’ child of man? Is that a nickname that displays fear or reverence? Is it an insult?”

The man was the definition of a curious child, so you explained it to him, “Dude refers to those who identify as a male, but I sometimes use it for both genders. If you feel uncomfortable with the term I can always call you something else. What do you think?” You paused your thoughts to remember the situation you were in by looking down at where you were, and then you continued, “Could you also possibly let me down?”

The male’s eyes widened in realization as you were slowly lowered to the ground, “I sincerely apologize child of man, but you were about to fall down the well? Would that not kill you?” He looked like a puppy, and he might be another one of your soft spots at this school.

“Oh yeah, it would, but that’s okay. Death is inevitable,” You said while making a fist and hitting the area of your chest closest to your heart and closing your eyes.

“You are quite strange….You are the first human I have met who does not fear death,” The male locked eyes on you once you opened yours.

“I’m taking that as a compliment,” At this point and time, anything anyone at this school said would be taken as a compliment.

“That is concerning, child of man,” the male lightly shook his head while the smallest of smiles popped up on his lips.

“Hey now, gramps, I don’t need a lecture,” You threw both your hands up and then tossed them at him only causing him further confusion.

“Gramps?” The male was as lost as you were when you wandered away in a grocery store, “This is the second name you have called me. Do you happen to not know who I am?”

“Uhmm, am I supposed to? Other than the fact that you stopped my death I have never seen or heard of you.”  Now, your face flashed confusion. It seemed to be passed back and forth between the two of you.

“Ah that’s odd. You do not know of me. Really?” The man turned back to you and waited for you to nod again before continuing, “ Oh my, this is quite unusual, indeed. What name do you go by?”

You introduced yourself to him, and asked, “Hey, what’s your name to be fair. I’d like to at least know who had the balls to save me.” You shrugged your shoulders and winked at him.

The male was taken aback by either your statement or your winking, and it did not really matter to you.

He took a minute until he finally started up again, “What an odd sounding name. I am..it’s not important. Hearing my name will only bring you misery.” The man’s face twisted and became like one of a crestfallen and hurt puppy.

“I’m pretty sure that’s not how it works, but whatever to make you feel comfortable,” You just had to find the weird people didn’t you. He wasn’t the worst.

The male actually looked relieved at your notion, “Let us have you stay ignorant of the world’s ways, shall we? Feel free to call me whatever you want.”

“Got it, puppy.” You nodded your head at him and smirked a little. You were gonna take full advantage of this.

“Puppy?” Confusion was prevalent on the males face before he let out the smallest of giggles you have ever heard, “I did not know that was a nickname of fear for humans.”

“Oh it isn’t, and to make you feel better I don’t find you at all intimidating at all.” You began to walk over to the bush where you deposited Grim, your dumb cat, at.

“You truly are an odd human, child of man,” The small smile returned to the male’s face and he muttered a phrase you are pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear, “It is truly quite endearing.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, puppy. Have a great day!” You waved back at the male once you found the bush and grabbed your stubborn cat who apparently took a nap.

And you two were then off while the male you met had smiled at your form leaving.

You realized after walking for another couple of minutes that you should have asked your puppy for directions because you were lost again.

Grim even started to pull on your uniform and yell in your ear more, so you walked faster or as fast as your legs would take you.

Finally, in a moment either of pure hallucination or euphoria, you arrived at the cafeteria where it was packed with not an inch of room at any table. The lines for food curved around each other and none stood out. It also seemed like a fight had broken out in the back corner of the room if the screaming said anything.

Grim, of course, did not notice any problem with this cafeteria and jumped from your arms. He scurried to the shortest line in the room with only one person in front of him. He jumped up and grabbed onto the counter once the person left and gazed at all the food in front of him. Finally, his eyes caught something, and he turned back to you with pleading eyes only to wait for you to grab a tray and place the food onto it. After he got his pick, he jumped back on your shoulder and started pawing at your head. You kept him on your shoulder while you grabbed your food and paid for it.

Finding a table would end up being a problem; there was not a single spot open even with many people in line and standing up. All you could do was sigh and trudge to find a bathroom or maybe even sit outside.

At least until you heard a voice call for your name.

You, in your confusion, swiveled around to find the voice, but out came the sunshine from the day before dashing to you. You were stunned and stayed in place until the boy was right in front of you. It also appeared that he brought another person with him who was following slightly behind him. The male was taller than the sunshine and had much longer hair. This was probably the fifth or sixth person at this school that you have met that had the face and body of a god. Genes must run well in this school, and you were begging to grab them from these males. The male must have cared about your staring, for once you made eye contact an icy glare met you. He must not like new people; must also be an introvert.

With your eyes stuck on observing the tall male behind the sunshine, you did not notice all of the efforts of the sunshine to get your attention until Grim shoved your head with his paw. You shook your head to gather your attention back and turned to face the sunshine’s eyes.

“Uh, sorry about that, dude.” You placed your hand on the back of your head in guilt.

“It’s okay,” He didn’t even look upset when he offered you his hand, “Want to come sit with us?”

“Um, sure, that’d be great,” Things seemed to be going up for you.

The sunshine took your tray from your hands and turned around to begin to walk across the cafeteria, “Oh, this is Jamil, he’s the vice dorm leader of my dorm, Scarabia!” He broke out into a beam when he mentioned his friend who was still conveniently behind him.

You decided to include him in the conversation since it never feels good to not be included, and you turned your head to face him and meet his eyes, “It’s nice to meet you, Jamil.” You tilted your head and smiled at the male.

“It is my pleasure. Kalim has talked about you,” you were taken aback that the sunshine had already mentioned you to his best friend from your eyes.

“Let’s hope it’s all good things,” You could only hope.

“Well, hearing that a magicless student caused a ruckus with a cat monster is always a great start to a year,” You could sense the sarcasm in Jamil’s voice.

“All nice things, then.” You sighed just hoping this year wouldn’t be a disaster.

Kalim was just grinning at the two of you interacting until he finally ended up at a table and placed yoru tray down next to another tray with way more food that looked homemade and nothing like the food from the cafeteria.

You laughed and guessed that the tray must belong to Kalim, “Someone’s food looks expensive.”

Kalim could not understand your joke, “Oh, you like it? You can have some if you want? Jamil makes the best of food!” The sun smiled at you again today, and you don’t know if you were going to make it.

“Ah, naw, I wouldn’t want to take any of it from you,” You had this strange feeling that being indebted to him was not the best idea, so you’d stick away from that for now.

You also grabbed Grim so as to stop him from taking any. He bit your hand, but not enough for you to pull away.

Kalim deflated and turned to face Jamil who shook his head at him causing Kalim to deflate even more and even pout his lips.

You four stayed in a comfortable silence with the only noise Grim chewing on his food. You slowly ate yours, and once you finished your meal you could only stare at your hands and play with them.

This was a lot more awkward than you thought.

Until Kalim finished his food, which was ridiculously quick and started talking about stories of his childhood to you and Grim. He talked all about his siblings and how helpful Jamil is to him. It was quite adorable. You even told a story or two about embarrassing things you did as a child, and both of the Scarabia boys got a chuckle from it.

The bell, however, rang in the middle of one of Kalim’s stories, and the two boys stood up, picked up their trays and yours, and went on their way.

You could only wave and pull Grim from trying to leave as the two made their way out. You gazed out the window and decided since it was on the first floor and no one was there, you were gonna exit out the window. Of course, someone saw, but that’s for them to know.

Since you got lost in the school on the way here, going around the school on the outside might help. You saw the well again, a big field, and even a large greenhouse. If this was a private school, this was the fanciest one you have ever been to.

You finally found your way back and deposited Grim off of a bench and grabbed your cleaning supplies to finish up the job.

Maybe cleaning a hundred windows wouldn’t be that bad.

[batarella]

I Don’t Hate You - Part 8 (Jason Todd x Reader)

we’ve come to the point where 4.2k words is considered short for this series. we love character development.

WORDS: 4202 WARNINGS: I smiled like I just smoked a blunt while writing this do I even have to say it

Masterlist

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

Light and darkness can be the most shallow, categorical means to describe a human being, one whose ways were never to their fault, never to their choosing, when an upbringing has caused either optimistic or cynical perceptions on the simplest things like the weather. Calling them someone who embodies ‘light’ would bring their minds up so high in the sky that they’ll end up believing they will forever be too bright to corrupt or hurt another. That is almost never the case. With the lack of perfection with just about anyone, everyone is capable of hurt. Everyone can be capable of selfishness. It all boils down to their will, if they want to hurt that somebody. But capabilities can never be assured. Even just the thought of a corrupted act is evidence enough that one person is never just light.

And darkness? All the more is it so limiting, so detrimental to how one would end up perceiving themselves, to be labeled as something the world will never be in favor of, to cause such a belief that they are never desired, never to bring happiness, never to come up to someone’s life and possibly make it better. For them to think they will never amount to being a star so bright that another’s eyes would lovingly gleam at the sight of them. For them to be convinced that they are a shadow, undesired, a bundle of emotions that have long been thought of as unwanted, unhealthy even.

The world has always been cruel, creating such labels so human beings would be drawn to those of either the same or opposite types. Types that shouldn’t make sense when just because one might see themselves in another, it ends up leading to the idea that a person is a mere idea. That they are a sort. Something to either want or avoid. Never something so deep that a common belief prevents you to finding out the depths of a person.

Love has never been about light or darkness. It has always been about depth. And depth can be infinite. Just like how love is an infinite spectrum. It was never about opposites. It was never about types. It was never about the surface.

Jason Todd was known to be a brood, never the one you could easily approach. Never the one to approach anyone. On good days, he would be seen laughing with his friends, raising his hand in class and have a great sense of humor that anyone can be charmed with. But those days can be counted. Most days, on days when he came to class with bruises all over his face, a hood over his head, scowling at anyone who dared to look at him twice. When someone would come up to them and he wouldn’t do so much as respond. Those days were plentiful.

The days that have cemented himself as a guy to watch out for, a guy to be feared, a guy no one wants to mess with, were those when someone would get on his already irritated nerves. Those days, he used his strength, his fight, to hurt other people more than they should be, beating them further to the ground even when they were already down. Fights were normal in high school. It was always something to expect. And it most commonly ends up with a day’s detention or even just a warning. But with Jason Todd? More often than not, he’d come out unscathed, and the other guy would end up in the hospital. Those days were the ones he was least proud of.

You, Y/FN, were troubled, harsh, often so angry, and spoke everything as truthfully as your mind would let you. You do not hesitate to hurt back, often even hurt first. You never let anyone talk to you the wrong way. You were strong enough to fight back at the world when it wasn’t often so decent to you. You can almost never be told what to do. Any threat thrown at your direction, you will tear it apart with you bare hands before life will have any other say on it.

But it went far beyond to just being defensive against cruelties. You’ve hurt so many with just your words, caused so much tears, shed bucketsful of blood. So many times, you’ve taken advantage of other people’s kindness and end up being so selfish as to only work for your own gain. You mostly ever thought about yourself. You never cared about what other’s thought, about what other’s felt. You’ve instilled so much fear onto so many people.

Some would say you and Jason would only amplify each other’s rage, each other’s blackness, each other’s cynicism. Some would say you were damn right perfect for each other.

But, with love being an infinite spectrum, it’s no longer about being perfect for someone, is it?

Nobody is ever really perfect for anybody. Rough patches will be inevitable. Personalities will most often clash than not.

But whoever that person is, whatever label they may possess or how the world puts them in a tagged box, if they end up being the one you share your brightest smile with, your noisiest laughter, your genuine happiness, then what is the world to stop you?

How could the boy whose eyes were most often hidden by the shadows look at you the way he was now? Peering in from the thin space between two books on a bookshelf, one you were just about to fill in with another one from the cart. He was smiling at you, knowing you caught his eye, too. And with the yellow light seeping through the shelves so perfectly resting on the details of his face, you stopped yourself from freezing and placed the book onto its place.

Then you pushed the cart, your eyes darting to the ground when your face had gone too flushed, but you couldn’t help but look back into the spaces between the bounded, dusty books. He kept your pace, never tearing his eyes away from you even when he could only see so much. You could see dust particles float about just from concentrating too much on him. You placed another book, then he moved to the space next to it. You bit your lower lip and kept going.

He’s been at this all day. Following you in silence, glancing at you when he noticed you following him as well.

Even from the other side of the shelf, you could see that shine in his eyes, the shine not everyone had the privilege to witness.

Then when you’ve reached the end, when your corners met and your eyes followed from just each other’s eyes to each other’s whole, he faced you, and you shyly tried to look away, but that day, the day after that day¸ he’s been following you around like a lost puppy and you have been doing much the same to him.

It was the best feeling, even in silence, when Jason sat across from you, still giving you that same look he’s always had, yet no longer looking away when you caught him, when his touches felt so much warmer, when his voice just a tad bit softer. When you only ever looked at him in admiration, when you looked further out to protect him, when you stole touches whether or not he noticed. It was basically the same, but also entirely different.

Love has never been kind to you. Never been kind to him. You’ve only had your parents and a few friends, yet you couldn’t remember the last time they’ve held you just because they wanted to, or that they longed for your presence when you weren’t in the room, when they constantly thought of you and your happiness. The people you loved have only ever done so much to love you back. And you, understandably, didn’t always love so hard as a person should and could.

Jason has had a girl or two that he liked, created the blossoms of an early relationship with without much thought on commitment, but that was only within the past two years when he got back to school and somehow maybe even before he dropped out after 5th grade. It was hard when on the prime ages of his teens, he’s had to think more about what he eats for the night than whether or not a girl likes him back. So at this age, no, he didn’t have much experience. You were definitely a first.

A wonderful first.

But that also meant he hadn’t a speck of an idea what to do to move forward.

Penny sat across from you, and you ate like the food in front of you in a dirty, grease filled tray was an actual decent meal. You didn’t notice your friend was smiling while watching you eat, like what you did was so amusing to look at.

“What?” you asked, still with food in your mouth.

“Something happened,” she poked you. “Didn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes and shoved your fork into your mouth.

“Tell me.” Penny put her chin on her hands and tilted her head while grinning at you. “Pleeease.”

“No.”

“You seem happy today, and yesterday, and the day before that-“

“I’m not- just eat your food.”

“Did you kiss?” she giggled.

“Stop giggling.” You ate two spoonful’s, then with your head craned down, you smiled. “Yeah…”

“EEEEEEEEEEE-“

“PENNY.”

“I can't believe it. You two kissed,” she held her hands together and looked up at the ceiling. “Was it romantic? Or awkward? Tell me what happened!”

You’ve never actually told anyone at all. You didn’t feel the need to. But something so warm at the pit of your stomach made you want to coo and daze yourself all over him like a fucking crackhead.

Whatever.

“We were at a playground. He asked me to sing. Then he just… kissed me…”

You were smiling at your food like it was the best damn thing in the world. It was only mashed potatoes and a chicken drumstick. You were a crackhead.

“How was it?” Penny asked.

Your own smile kept getting bigger as you remembered that moment. The most perfect moment. “It went on for like… forever, but at the same time it ended way too soon. It wasn’t weird at all…”

“Look at him,” Penny was looking at Jason eating from his own tray of potatoes. “He’s so cute.”

“Stop. Looking at him,” you demanded.

“I’m just so happy for you,” she smiled. “What happened next? Did you go out again? It’s been three days!”

“Well,” you licked your lips. “Uhm…”

“What?”

“After that night, he dropped me off, then I texted him to say thank you and he was all like ‘you're welcome’ and then the subject changed before we fell asleep. Then we texted basically about anything in class before going to work at the library, then-“

“Wait,” Penny stopped you.

“Are you telling me you’re not dating yet?”

Your lips were between your teeth. Your eyes were all over the place but on your friend’s.

“Define dating…”

She leaned closer. “Did you get to talk about how much you liked each other and that you wanted to be together?”

Shoving a forkful of chicken into your mouth, chewing it ever so slowly, then swallowing, you murmured. “No…”

“Did you guys even talk about your kiss?”

You wanted to sink into the ground. “No…”

“Oh my god.”

“Penny-“

“This is both your faults.”

“Penny-“

“Talk to him, Y/N-“

“PENNY-“

“I’m serious! How is anything gonna happen when you're both too shy to do anything?”

“Don’t EVER call me shy. It’s demeaning.”

“Okay…” she slumped to her seat, her mouth pouting like a child as she stared at her food. “I’m not hungry anymore.”

“Don’t be a fucking baby.”

You ate your food and kept your eyes downcast. You didn’t have to rush, right? You didn’t have to talk about it right away? You’ve never been happier the past three days. Why should you change anything?

“Hi.”

You, with your mouthful of food, and your friend still pouting, looked up at the deep voice that stood over your table.

Jason’s smile at you made your stomach churn like a washing machine.

Penny almost dropped her food, then her mouth. She looked at you, then at Jason, then silently giggled at how you two had lingering gazes at each other longer than any two sane people would.

“Mind if I join you guys?”

“SIT HERE!” Penny cried out, standing up from her seat and taking out her tray.

“Oh, I can totally just sit over th-“

“THIS SEAT’S BETTER.”

“But you haven’t finished your food-“

“I’M ON A DIET.”

You wanted to bury your face into your bag and hope you’d suffocate yourself and die.

Penny practically sprinted out from the table, glancing back at you, catching your piercing glare, and gave you a huge thumbs up with both hands before running out of the cafeteria. Just before the doors closed, you heard her high-pitched giggles.

Kill me now.

Jason cleared his throat, then took Penny’s seat right across from you.

The moment you looked up and met his eyes, your glower faded in an instant and your mouth defied your thoughts and curved up. You picked on your food, trying your best not to stare at him too much. But there he was again with his eyes. He barely touched his food.

He was nervous, too. You could tell. Biting his lip.

You could handle the silence. Silence didn’t always have to be awkward. You’ve never done this before. He never did either. And too much all at once would be far too much. So just this time, with him, you’ll take all the time in the world.

Jason chewed on his food, looking up at you every so often.

Then you saw his one hand reach over to your side of the table, doing nothing but just lay there untouched. You looked up, fighting your grin.

Okay, maybe you could take another teensy little step.

You reached out your own hand, so slowly, he never would’ve noticed it if he wasn’t looking from his side eye. You laid it just an inch away from his. You pretended to focus on your food and ate.

He did the same, eating in silence with you with just one hand holding a fork. His jaw clenched the same way it often did when he chewed. Silence. More silence. But you were smiling from ear to ear.

Without glancing up, you felt his pinky brush against your thumb.

You had to bite into your lips to not look like an idiot.

His touch was so slight and beautifully delicate, yet with each miniscule movement, you could feel the buzzing warmth, down to your palm, then to your arm. It wasn’t something overwhelming, or even electric. It was just… warm. Fuzzy. Comfortable. He knew you were smiling, but he continued to eat and grin so secretly, it was annoying.

Even more of his warmth raced to your chest when his leg grazed against yours under the table. You didn’t even try to hide your smile anymore, but you knew if you looked up and catch his eye, you wouldn’t be able to take any more of this warmth and fuzziness.

You inched your hand closer, too close until his pinky and ring finger were on top of your hand. His leg kept touching yours. Your heart felt like jumping out a ten story building. You were an idiot. Such an idiot.

But you actually liked being an idiot at that moment.

At that point, neither of you moved. And just like the kiss, it lasted forever, but ended far too soon.

For days, it was like that. Silence. Comfortable silence. No talks beyond what was on the surface, or anything about feelings or anything to move forward. As much as you’d love for it to go past this, you just enjoyed the moment.

It will come. Soon. For once, you felt secure.

Jason made you feel secure.

Back at the manor, he could only ever think about you when you weren’t texting. He was just nervous. And scared. Not of you. But of himself. He could mess up and lose you. Losing you wouldn’t be so easy to undo. He stepped on the right track with that kiss, as much of a risk it already was, he really didn’t want to mess up the next move.

You were an entire maze to him. So mesmerizing and so prone to get lost in. Difficult to understand. Not at all easy. But that’s what made you so beautiful. That’s what drew him in the first place. And like a maze, when he finishes, fuck, will it be rewarding.

With his suit on, sitting at the computers with his legs up on the keys, he fiddled with his phone, thinking of what to say to you to make you laugh.

“Robin,” Batman said to him as he put on his cowl. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. Just hold on.”

He thought a meme would just cover it. He sent it to you and hoped for the best.

“So who is she?”

“What?” he choked, putting his phone face down.

“The girl you’re always with. Who is she?”

“I have no idea who you're talking about.”

“You expect me to believe you stay in school all the way until 6 pm at night, visit an abandoned house far away from the city, and hang out at a playground in the middle of the night all by yourself?”

“How did you- you placed a tracker in my phone, didn’t you?”

“Answer me, Jason. Who is she and are you going to bring her here in the manor anytime soon?”

He fell face down onto the computer keys. “I like you better when you’re Batman and not an absolute dad.”

“Well, I technically am your father, which means I would like to meet your nice girlfriend and invite her over to dinner-“

“She’s not even my girlfriend yet!” he coughed. “Sorta…”

“Then why don’t you ask me, Dick, or Alfred on how to get a girl to-“

“Bruce, I am NOT having this conversation with you.”

“Alright. Alright. Then you can put your phone down or else I go on patrol on my own. You can take your bike.”

Batman went into his batmobile and drove out of the cave. Jason laid on the rotating chair, facing the ceiling.

His girlfriend. You. He’ll have to take that in before he goes to sleep at night.

A tongue suddenly started licking his fingers. Jason looked down. Ace was on the ground, looking at him with the widest eyes.

“I’d rather talk to you, Ace.” He patted his head. “What do I say to her?”

He showed the dog his phone, which had your reply. Ace looked at the screen, then at Jason, then proceeded to lick his ass.

“Nice. Could always count on you, boy.”

Alfred took the liberty of placing his domino mask on his face while he continued to text you for several more minutes.

“I really like her, you know,” Jason told the dog, who was now lying on the ground asleep. “I hope I don’t mess up.”

Ace’s back heaved steadily in his slumber.

“You don’t think I can mess this up? You're too kind.”

Several minutes passed. Jason told you he needed to do some homework for the night, and to text him if you needed anything. He placed the phone on the table and fixed his mask, standing up. The dog followed him.

Ace watched him get onto his bike, pulling down his helmet. He sat down, panting like he was smiling.

“You think I’m in love with her?” Jason scoffed and snorted. “No…”

And as if the dog understood, he stopped smiling and whined.

Jason laughed at the dog, then at himself. With a bright smirk looking down at the ground, feeling his heart race at the thought of you wishing him safe before patrol, he drove out of the cave.

Yeah. This was eventually going to have to change.

The end was so close and near.

Now, you were at the library. Tomorrow, at 4:30 in the afternoon, it will be you and Jason’s very last day being library assistants. The last day of the one thing that excused both of you to see each other as if you were forced to. The one reason you could always rely on to hang out with each other without it being weird.

At that point, you’ve grown to be fond of the old book covers, grown to take the time to admire the old classics that Jason lingered on often. You no longer complained having to shelf the same books over and over. You no longer dreaded writing dates by hand. You’ve grown to love your work.

Even if everything else progresses, you were going to miss it here. Even Ms. Peterson.

The old woman was silent on her computer. And even when it was almost 4:30, you still took your sweet time at the shelves. Jason had his own cart to take care of at the shelf beside you. You looked up at him, smiling. This view. Of him glancing at the pages before putting them on the shelves. This was definitely what you’ll miss the most.

Jason looked back at you and returned your smile. Jeez, your heart.

You bit your lip and looked down.

You took out the very first Edgar Allan Poe collection book that belonged to the library, the one you never asked to borrow from Ms. P, and ran your hand over the cover.

A long dead, emo writer ended up pulling two people together the way he never meant to. He was probably looking down at both of you all confused, since he wrote about the most depressing themes that almost never ended in a good way. But he ended up mending a story so beautiful, you couldn’t help but thank him.

You had another book of his at home, anyway. So with a longing brush of your palm over the cover, you placed it back onto the shelf where it belonged.

“Y/N!”

A group of three girls. One of them was the one who handed you a flyer the other day and you ended up shoving it down her bra.

“We’re the party planning committee, and you know the Winter Wonderland Ball is coming up, right?”

You squinted your eyes at them.

“And we also know that you are a very good singer-“

“No.” You went back to shelving the books.

“Please!” she begged you. “Our last singer had a throat infection just today and he had the audacity to tell us just now.”

“No.”

“Come on! Please! You are an amazing singer.”

“I know,” you smirked. “But I’m not gonna do it.”

“The ball is two days away! Please! Just one song!” She was on her knees now. “I can't lose this job and I need this on my resume for college! We promised a live band!”

You rolled your eyes and turned back over to your shelf.

Jason was looking at you. Straight at you. He heard everything and you just knew he wasn’t going to let you hear the end of it.

You sighed and looked back at him.

His smile just melted every block of ice inside you. You loved that smile. You wanted to see it every day. And you did, technically. But like this, silently telling you to push yourself, be your best version.

And the thought of him seeing you on stage, you seeing him in the crowd and having that flutter in your chest that hadn’t gone away since that night at the playground.

God, you were an actual, undeniable, enormous crackhead for giving in to him.

You turned to the girls and shrugged. “Fine.”

You flinched when they shrieked. The girl who begged you held your shoulder. “THANK YOU-“

“Neeeever touch me,” you growled, glaring at her. She backed away, still with a smile, then the group ran out of the library before you’d possibly change your mind.

Placing the last book onto the shelf, you felt proud of yourself. With a deep sigh, you walked over to the tables and grabbed your bag. Jason came up from behind you.

“I can't wait,” he grinned while swinging his bag over his back. You licked your teeth and rolled your eyes at him. “Shut up.”

“Really.”

He took a step nearer to you, looking straight into your eyes with that same smile that drove you nuts. “You’re gonna do amazing.”

You shook your head and you both started walking out into the hallway.

“Can I take you home?”

Your eyes were locked on the ground, then you covered your lips with your scarf when you stepped out into the cold. “Sure.”

Holding him on his motorcycle, you laid your head against his back, circled your arms around him tighter than you usually do.

Love is infinite. Love is depth.

Jason is both.

-----

I DON’T HATE YOU - MASTERLIST

-----

  Taglist: everyartistwas-firstanamateur  @sarcasmismyfirstlove @damned-queen-of-gotham @idkmanicantenglish @wunderstell @birdy-bat-riya @get-loki@everyday-imfangirling @comic-nerd-dc @multifandoms916 @icequeen208@offendedfishnoises @egdolan @xemiefx @arkhamtoddler @elsenthal@mythicbitchx @supremehaunter @ burning-alive  @lucy-roo  roseangel013bf @ loxbbg  reclusive-chicken-nuggethttp-cherries shadowsndaisiesriver9noble zphilophobiaz

[metalandmagi]

Summer 2019 Anime Worth Watching

Summer is here, and with it brings another new season of anime! In case you’re feeling lost and want to find some new shows to pass the time, here’s some of the anime I think are worth checking out...because some really good shows tend to fly under the radar. I think there’s some genuinely interesting stuff this season, so hopefully you’ll find something you like too. 

I also have a Winter list and a Spring list and a fall list now!

And here’s my master list for 2020

New Shows!

Given: A *cough* BL *cough* romance anime in which tsundere highschool guitarist Ritsuka Uenoyama is on the verge of losing his passion for music when he stumbles upon the sleepy-eyed Mafuyu Sato who constantly carries a guitar around that he doesn’t know how to play. Drama and musical shenanigans ensue. This was by far my most anticipated show of the season, because I happen to have read a few chapters of this manga and liked it a lot. The only reason I stopped was because I wanted to hear the music in this music oriented story...so naturally the anime makes me very happy. Not only is it sweet and cute with great animation, but it’s also hilarious. Sato is also basically a human incarnation of a lost puppy, and you just help but fall in love with him and the other characters! AND NOW WE HAVE TWO GAY MUSIC SHOWS THIS SEASON! 

Dr. STONE: An action adventure anime that takes place 3,700 years in the future after the world is struck with a mysterious phenomenon that turns the entire human race to stone. Our protagonists: the genius, scientific minded Senku Ishigami and the muscle-y comic relief Taiju Oki, must find a way to rebuild civilization and turn humanity back to normal using the POWER OF SCIENCE! It’s fun, good looking, and way more interesting than I thought it would be. I’m not very attached to the main characters yet, although it’s still early. I’m mainly sticking around for the plot, the comedy, and the answers to the crazy amount of questions I have after watching the first episode!

Fire Force: An action/drama where super powered fire fighters must protect Tokyo from people who are spontaneously combusting while our hero Shinra must find out who started the fire that killed his mother. More than anything, I’d say this show is definitely worth watching for the cinematography and action because almost every second has been high flying dynamic animation that really grips you. It reminds me a lot of Soul Eater, the story and characters have a lot of potential, and you know an anime will be good when the girls have muscles too!

If it’s for My Daughter, I’d Even Defeat a Demon Lord: Can you tell it’s based on a light novel? A slice of life set in a fantasy world where an adventurer named Dale stumbles upon an adorable lost little girl in the woods, who happens to be branded as a criminal. So of course Dale basically adopts her and tries to find out how she came to be with him. It’s basically fantasy School Babysitters without the tragic depth to it (but there’s room for potential). Yes, this is definitely the most wholesome show of the season, but it’s to be expected considering it’s basically Japan’s latest attempt to get people to have more babies. Personally, the most interesting aspect of this show is the fact that Dale and his “daughter” can’t speak the same language. Unfortunately, the light novel ends up pulling a Bunny Drop...so I sincerely hope the anime doesn’t try the creepy romance factor. So for now, if you feel like puking up some rainbows, give this one a try. 

To the Abandoned Sacred Beasts: An action drama where, during a civil war, one side used “forbidden technology” to enhance their soldiers and basically turn them into badass monsters. The only problem: the soldiers who were turned start to lose their humanity and end up killing humans for the fun of it. Now our protagonist must hunt down his fellow soldiers and kill them before it’s too late. Honestly, this show has some pacing issues and can be a bit stilted in terms of its character interactions, but what kept me watching was the last 5 minutes of the first episode. I was so not prepared for the roller coaster that was the first episode’s ending, and now I’m extremely intrigued. Besides it’s made by MAPPA so I would at least give it a couple episodes to see if it’s for you.   

Vinland Saga: The story of a young boy named Thorfinn’s journey to become a great warrior and while the adults deal with going to war. IT’S THE ONE WITH THE VIKINGS!!! It basically feels like a darker, grittier viking version of Moana. I’ve heard literally nothing but praise for this manga for so many years that my hopes skyrocketed as soon as I heard Wit was doing the adaption. And it has definitely lived up to the hype so far! It’s a great action historical drama to fill the void after Dororo. The only problem is no one will watch it because it’s on Amazon Prime.

Kochouki: Wakaki Nobunaga: A fun brightly colored historical anime about the famous warlord Nobunaga when he was a young teenager. I honestly don’t know what the tone of this anime is going to be from here on out, because it’s going to go from “fun thieving shenanigans with pretty boys” to leading people into battle, but it got me interested. I know putting Nobunaga in an anime isn’t exactly original, but this one seems like a fun ride...and it looks gay as fuck. 

And I have to shout out some that haven’t premiered yet...just in case...

Try Knights: This one doesn’t come out until the end of July, but you bet your ass I’m going to be watching it because it’s an original anime about PRETTY BOYS PLAYING RUGBY! And I have a feeling it’s going to be very... different from the other resident rugby anime All Out. 

Yokai Ningen BEM (Humanoid Monster BEM): Okay, this one’s not out yet either, but the trailer had a really cool vibe to it, so I’m including it anyway. It’s a remake of the 1968 anime in which a group of yokai who look like humans fight crime in the big city. If nothing else, the music is cool, and it’s made by Production I.G, so why not?

*UPDATE* The first episode finally dropped, and holy crap I’m so into this. It’s basically Durarara mixed with Psycho Pass mixed with Bungo Stray Dogs. The first episode has me completely hooked!

Next seasons and continuations!

As always there are some leftovers from the spring season that are continuing into the summer that I highly suggest!

Carole and Tuesday: The musical sci-fi anime directed by Shinichiro Watanabe wherein a rich runaway named Tuesday meets a streetwise girl named Carole, and the two decide to start a band together. Now Carole and Tuesday must rise to stardom in a world dominated by android created music. It was by far my favorite new show of the spring, and if you can find a way to watch it (because it’s still not available legally anywhere aside from Japanese Netflix apparently) I wholeheartedly recommend it. It’s got the best and most diverse music I’ve seen in an anime in a long time, an interesting setting (apparently it takes place in the Cowboy Bebop universe!?), and very well rounded fun characters. And I'm dying for a soundtrack release with all the songs!!!!

Fruits Basket 2019: Yes, the remake of the classic 2001 anime in which a girl moves in with a family who can turn into animals from the zodiac is getting a full run. And thank God because I just can’t say goodbye to it after only 12 episodes. It is so stunningly beautiful in both animation and story subjects that I don’t know what I would do without it. The characters feel so much more fleshed out, and I feel like I learn a lesson about life each week even though I already know most of what’s going to happen. If you never watched the original because thought you were too “cool” to watch a shoujo anime, give it a chance. Because if you think it’s just a generic love triangle romance show, you couldn’t be more wrong. The reboot is so good at portraying different kinds of love and how the presence of love and family can change lives AND IT’S JUST SO FREAKING GOOD! 

Demon Slayer Kimetsu no Yaiba: In case you missed Ufotable’s newest project, this is a shounen anime that follows a young boy named Tanjiro and his sister Nezuko who has been possessed by a demon and their journey to turn Nezuko back to normal while fighting demons along the way. I still feel like this is a pretty basic shounen anime story wise, but I really like the characters, especially the villains. It has some of the coolest fighting/power mechanics I’ve seen in awhile, and the animation is very cool and different!

Ace of Diamond act 2: Our favorite shounen baseball anime is continuing into the summer. And I have very mixed feelings about this season so far. We are getting some fun new characters and some great scenes with the team, but the games are very...choppy and rushed. Apparently this is how it goes down in the manga, and we’re in for some good Sawamura development...but it’s still touch and go for me personally.  

That’s it for now. Most of these are available on Crunchyroll, except Vinland Saga, Carole and Tuesday, and Kochouki: Wakaki Nobunaga. Since Try Knights and Yokai Ningen BEM aren’t out yet, I don’t know where they will be available legally. 

See you next season!

[minghaoss-archive]

of hues, of blues - m

summary ↯

wherein heartbreak teaches you to love again.

pairing ↯

xu minghao x fem reader

genre ↯

oneshot, angst, smut 

and just a smidge of fluff hah!

word count ↯

6.811 words

alternative universe↯

 friends with benefits to lovers, hanahaki disease.

warnings ↯

blood,  vomiting, explicit sexual content.

author’s note ↯

idk this is absolute filth + a little attempt at poetry. im so sorry this is abysmal.

Surprises are not Xu Minghao’s cup of tea. 

He realises this at a very young age.  

When he’s riding a bike for the first time, schooling himself to grow accustomed to the unsteady glide of the vehicle. Looking out of the corner of his eye like this, a myriad of colours begin to collect in his peripheral vision. He can smell the freshly cut grass, see the enlarging manicured bushes lazing out in dusted gold, bathed in morning dew, the sight of his parents sat out on a picnic mat and he thinks he’s almost made it - just a little longer. He smiles and then grins and laughs and giggles, feeling as if he had grown wings. Then the world spins in a whirlpool of chartreuse canopies and he falls. 

When he grows up, however, surprises are less dramatic but not quite different in proving to be a great displeasure to him. 

When he’s 22, for starters, surprises are Seokmin’s ear damaging ‘Happy Birthday!’, a room full of people he can’t seem to recognise and an obligation to stick around talking absently about nothing when all he was planning to do was curl up in bed with a freshly minted copy of an unread book. 

At 22, surprises are  red coloured bars which tell him he has failed his painting course when he was sure he’d aced it.

At 22, surprises are finding catharsis for his sour mood in giving into Mingyu’s constant nagging requesting his rare presence at a stupid college party.

You arise from a blur of crimson lights and sweaty strangers.  Like a newborn phoenix. A mere haze of dark clothes; a stark contrast to the vibrant tints pulsing around you, press a cool beer can to his chest and press a sloppy kiss to your mouth, as a consequence of a childish game of spin the bottle.

It’s right then that he knows that this is comprised of nothing but carnal desire. This isn’t what Minghao wants, he knows this, he wants something everything to mean something more but he just can’t help himself. The aching loneliness in him demands to be fulfilled, by something, just anything.

He shouldn’t follow you upstairs. In fact, he shouldn’t follow you anywhere.   He shouldn’t press your back up against an unfamiliar bedroom door and push the hem of your outfit upwards.

 Or hiss when you touch him.

 Or rut his hips into yours. Or listen to the quivering moans billowing past your chapped lips, Or  slide his fingers around your throat,

( a loll of your head, a sigh, his name tumbling from your lips.) 

 But he does anyway. He wants to. 

The next morning, Minghao wakes up to a head splitting hangover. And a very, very empty bed. He kicks off the piss yellow sheets and glares at the cracked paint on Hansol’s ceiling. 

When was the last time someone was in this room? Had he made you up? Definitely not.

The imprint of your body, a ghost, begs to differ. He reaches out and smoothes it over.  Whatever. Minghao isn’t in the best mood. 

Surprises are not his cup of tea.

....

 The next meeting is at the college fair. 

“You want a flower?” You lean your head to the side, hunched over the stall and he tells you a meek yes, “Those..ones.” gesturing to the pretty blues around which your hair curls. 

Minghao may not know a lot but he knows it would be something ridiculous to miss, the gentle graze of your fingers against his ear when you place the pretty ring of blue atop his head. 

“They’re called..?” He trails, running his finger along its slender stem. Maybe it’s the rings around your eyes or the way you bite the inside of your mouth, the subtle quality that of being peculiar makes him want to look at you longer than he should. It piques his interest.

 “They’re hydrangeas.“ You supply. Minghao nods. Observing the way your nose crinkles and how you purse your lips when you think.

“I’ve never properly introduced myself.”  smiling your endearing smile, you snap him right out of his thoughts. The kind of jolt one feels when they dream of falling. Mischievous eyes. Wondering eyes. 

“We should..” You pause,  swallowing down a chunk of words. Gaze downcast. It takes him awhile to understand that you are anxious, bashful even. Interlaced hands. Clammy. But sharp eyes. “We should do it again sometime.”

Your dealings with Minghao are so frequent that thinks he can’t quite imagine what his life would be like without it happening again. 

By now he can tell your silhouette apart from everyone else’s. If he spreads his palms on your lower back and sucks on your neck, you hum and groan. If he wants, he can tell you exactly where every mark, indentation, valley and curve on your body is. 

He’s been staring at an empty canvas for a while now, ideas jumbled, colours appearing together behind his lids and turning to a confusing mix of everything and nothing at all. 

He’s listened to Chopin  to a point where he’s convinced he can compose  the andagios and allegros all by himself.

 He's  looked for inspiration in between violets and the cerulean sky and poetry, of course. 

But it’s no use.

At the end of the day, Minghao only drowns in a sea of unfinished assignments; wallowing purposelessly in the tangerine glow of his makeshift studio, heavily caffeinated. 

You coax him out the day Mingyu calls you. Dramatising his best friend’s state with a kiddish pout and flailing arms. 

Minghao follows you around like a lost puppy. Resting his chin on your shoulder when you cook him a proper meal, fingers dancing along your apron. Distracted.  It’s moments like these that truly confuse you; the care with which he kisses your cheek and the roughness with which he undresses you after.

 What do the spaces between these differences, the oceans and hills, the softness of his sighs and the harshness of his grunts, even mean? Whatever. You haven’t fucked in a week or two.

The easel stems from the floor and curls around his primed canvas like a rose plant, thorns, pointed leaves, soft, blushing petals and he feels like he’s looking at his own reflection, devoid of ideas, faceless, empty, spotless. 

 Then suddenly, sighing, with a loll of his head, Minghao glances back at the bed, your bare body; streaks of rosy dusk splattered on your thighs, oranges and yellows smudged along your cheeks, the subtle rise and fall of your chest with every breath you take. A sliver of the rising sun. Summer air. 

He touches his paintbrush after weeks and refuses to let go until all he can see is a waltz of reds and blues, a spin of everything he feels when he touches you. Your face. The gaps between your ribs. 

He thinks, if anyone asks, he could talk about it for a good few days. 

Minghao passes the semester with flying colours.

This is what happens, Jeonghan’s car grumbles, the air conditioning isn’t working and Minghao is too tall to sit with two other people at the back but he doesn’t mind because your knees are touching.

 The wind blows your hair back in messy  tufts. You’ve cut it shorter, upto your neck. He decides he likes it better that way. 

There’s an Air Supply song playing in the background. Hansol smiles knowingly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, his palms pressed firmly against the steering wheel. “That’s our song.” He says. 

 Then the car is still for a second. But suddenly you kick off your sneakers, bare feet on leather seats. 

You giggle and giggle and giggle. 

Tips of your fingers smudged of acrylic clouds. Patches of trees melting away into the amethyst sky. The sun sinking back into a blonde horizon. You’re singing loud. Laughing. You haven’t laughed this hard in a long time. The kind of laugh gives you a stomach ache. The kind of laugh that you think about for days. 

Minghao thinks you’re beautiful like this. 

He shouldn’t. 

It’s not right.

 He takes a photo.

...

We are only as remembered as long as we want to be found.  Breadcrumbs. We are only remembered if we leave something behind. 

The art of disappearing is something Xu Minghao is a master of, perhaps. Sometimes he turns off his phone and lies on park benches and tries to think of ways he could fit the world in his palms, mold it out of acrylic and entrap it in a picture. He is a sorcerer of sorts and magic only brews in solitude. In secret. When no one can hear him say his incantations. It’s a secret between him and the universe. 

He leaves not a trace during these periods of artistry. No texts. No confusing social media applications. No boorish human beings. No hindrances. 

Minghao doesn’t leave the studio for days. Not until all he sees is black and white. A monochromatic world. When bursts and explosions of platinum lightning have oozed out of the grey sky. 

 He rushes over to your apartment. Chasing thunderbolts. Desperate. A rainy day. A yellow bus. A knock. Two knocks. Three knocks. He arrives always. In search of colours. 

You press your mouth to his before he can step foot into your room, words said between frantic kisses. 

“God, where were you?” You say and he thinks you almost sound angry. His duffle bag drops with a soft thud.

He pulls your stringy dress off with a harsh tug. Hands skimming over the curve of your waist, your breasts, your skin. Goosebumps all over. 

He tugs you closer by the heels of your feet. Hunching forward. Kissing you. Greedy fingers leaving you bare, shivering and craving in their wake. 

A trail of sloppy kisses from the curve of your ribs to the slope of your stomach. Minghao’s fingers rest on your inner thighs, sucking in a multitude of colours. Fingers curled inside of you. Lewd  squelch. Lewder whispers. Loud whines filling the room with each passing second. 

He has you whining, sweaty underneath the rough pads of his fingers. Teeth scraping along the bend of your throat. Angry crescents. Minghao’s kisses on your tummy. Your fingers in his hair.

“Look at me.” He commands, holding his fingers up. Your eyes widened, glazed over. Lustful. Mischievous eyes. Wondering eyes. 

If it’s you, if it’s like this, if this all you’ll ever be, wants to leave his trace, wants it to mean something, he wants to be remembered.

“Hey, stop that.” You say, covering your face with your hands. As if he hadn’t memorised it already. 

Minghao’s pencil comes to a screeching halt. He’s on his stomach. Bare. Basking in the rubscent sunshine. Your sheets kiss his body, accentuating the slender shape of his waist.  

 Then the boy glances back and smiles. For a moment, you forget this isn’t love. This isn’t love. This isn’t supposed to be love.

Truth be told, Minghao isn’t good at sketching, he never was. He has never been quite fond of it.  Minghao always imagines the world in vibrant colours. Never, in his mind, is beauty in black and white. 

But in spite of his bitter exchanges with shaky borders and strange strokes before; now, he seems to excel at putting you on paper, be it in the form of ash pencil lines or splatter of colours, colours and colours, he can never seem to wrong your beauty.  “Okay.”

He says and lays on his back. Wondering. Marvelling. 

Your chin placed on your folded hands.

 He pushes a rogue strand behind, one which always seems to keep falling over your eyes. Somehow every time you’re together, you end up like this. Craving. Touching. Never more. Never less. Can it be less? Can it be more? 

No. 

He shouldn’t say say or think or want something of that sort. Thinking is wanting. Wanting is saying. Saying is craving. 

It isn’t right. 

“Stop thinking so much.” You whisper, looking up at him with a look in your eyes that he doesn’t want to understand. Something which says more than what’s told.

 Stop. He doesn’t quite stop. Minghao thinks and wants and craves. He mustn’t. Your face fits in his palms, you lean into the touch like a love starved kitten and he craves again. Wants again. 

If you were a colour and not a million Minghao thinks you’d be blue.

Change. Change is strange. Sometimes you wonder how the world is frosted over, crystallised, whitened with snow and in a blink again, flowers bloom, spring comes and so comes hummingbirds. Change is strange. Sometimes you wonder how all you two share turns from mere lust to profound conversations of everything and nothing at all.

Minghao possesses a kind of intelligence that is unparalleled, he’s quick to understand thoughts and quicker to word it. You’ve been doing that quite often; talking and talking without meaning to stop. Change is strange.

“Do you believe in love?” Your voice is a low, broken thing, words barely there, airy. 

 "Yes.“ Minghao gazes at the sky, littered with more stars than there are in the city; the soft glow of silver lights his face up in an unusual way. A way about which you could write a thousand villanelles about.

Stars. Dim and twinkling.  You wonder how many of them must have aligned for you to have found each other.   Incomplete. Your half said words hang in the air. This comfort is peculiar.

 Silence has never been an unpleasant thing before. You’re laid down with your arms and legs spread apart, gaze upcast. 

Between the two of you, the wet patch of  sand feels like a dried ocean, deserted. Lonely. The foamy sea lilts and sings and  calls you to her; but you only lay silent, unmoved. 

Minghao reaches out and interlaces your fingers. Hope is a funny thing. Desire is a funny thing. He doesn’t understand what it means to say a lot but speak no words at all. His hand tingles from where you rub your thumb. It’s the first time you’re together. But unbare. 

 This comfort is peculiar.

He’ll always remember; your shoulders erecting to mountains. Your eyes red and swollen, portions and bits of a conversation about a lost lover. The first time he saw you. Hansol’s piss yellow blankets. Seven minutes in a closet.  Heated kisses. Your heart in shambles.

Minghao wonders what it means to love like that. Love that stays even when people don’t. 

The sky is suddenly darker than before; mighty ravenous clouds seem to have gobbled down constellations after constellations. It’s going to rain again. 

“Do you?“  He asks and you almost look, Minghao thinks, like you’re about to cry.

 He wonders why it bothers him, why it makes him want to reach out and pull you to him. But he doesn’t, of course. 

 He shouldn’t.

It’s not right. 

Something in your eyes is forlorn. Tight lipped. Sometimes he wishes he had a  stethoscope to hear your thoughts, the ones you don’t unveil, despite your much fabled bravado.

 You sit back, glance at him and smile briefly. Strange. Undercurrents.  Tempted to trace your lips like it were brail. He wants to know what it means, the downward tilt of your mouth.

You’re insolent, an offensive girl,  insulting every pretty scenery around you with your very strange beauty. Messy hair, moonlight kissing up your naked face, circles around your widening eyes and closing, parting mouth , like you’re trying to remember something or rather forget.  He wishes his camera were with him.

 "I can’t.” You say and the pain in your voice startles him.

 "You can.“  Minghao corrects, sliding closer you. Toes touching. Bumping into each other. How one could think they can’t be reduced to the foolishness of a lover is beyond his understanding. Everyone can be a fool. In their own ways, of course. Everyone can fall in love. They just choose to.  They just choose not to. 

“Of course you can.” He says, sounding slightly injured by your ludicrous comment. Always flared up and cross. You rest your head on his shoulder. Stifling a laugh. It’s moments like these that truly confuse you, the gap between your bodies and the yearning to close it.

Believe in love;

You can.

You do.

⊱ ────────── ⊰

Sometimes love lasts forever. Sometimes love gives you reason and makes you believe. Sometimes love is soft whispers, never wilting roses. Sometimes love is forever and always. Sometimes love is the tranquil sea. Sometimes love is comfort and trust. Like the first touch of spring. 

Such was not true for Yuta and you. 

Yuta fell in love with you one winter morning and fell out every other. 

Sometimes you wonder if he had been a phantom. If you were touching air. If you had imagined him all along. 

You remember tracing your finger along his back, bumps and drops of his spine, trying to find the man you loved once. You remember kissing him, touching him, undressing him, aching for him to look at you the way he did. To tell you he loved you back. To mean it when he did. You should’ve seen it coming. 

When it happens it happens so unsurprisingly. When it happens it happens so surprisingly. 

You get off class early. A trail of clothes at your feet. It’s a funny thing, watching someone take away everything you love. It’s a funny thing watching someone give away everything you love. 

“Get out.” You say to him with a straight face. 

You want to stop him. 

“Fine.” Yuta shrugs, sighing, running a hand through his hair. You wonder how many times he’s held her with those hands. Has he ever thought of you when he fucked her? Did he feel sorry for you every time you kissed him? Did he have a good laugh when you weren’t around?

 He looks back one last time; as if to say you can pull me back and tell me you love me. You can drag me back and tell me it’s okay. You can forgive me and we will go back to bed. Like nothing ever happened.

Your mouth parts. Words pleading to escape.  I love you. Was I not enough?

 "I never want to see you again.“ You grit out instead.   The door shuts with a soft thud.

You don’t stop him. 

...

Minghao hisses when you drag your tongue down his abdomen. Your hair entangled between the gaps of his fingers. 

You meet his eyes, watery and widened. Taking him in. “Fuck.” A sight you’ll never share. Afraid someone will steal it from you. A sight which only belongs to you.  His brows knitted together, mouth parted in a silent moan.

He cums with a groan and you wipe the corner of your mouth clean, lean on your palms and say, “Happy birthday.”

...

You don’t understand Minghao.

Sometimes he calls you his darling and takes you to his bedroom. Undresses you with care and care and care. 

 And other times he walks past you like you don’t exist.

...

Nasty wet trails travel down your spine like liquid serpents. They bite your clothes, twist their heads around your lower back and cling onto your skin like they would swallow it whole. It’s summer and your mouth is very dry. 

“Hold still.” He scolds. Tapping your bare thighs so you stop moving it so much. 

Minghao’s head is in your lap, face shielded from the lurid orange sun. Shaded by a reddened poetry book which says Robert Frost. Your face invisible. Only a hint of your eyebrows. He pulls it back. 

“Hey!” You exclaim, trying to seize it but he tucks it away, under his bum.  A complacent grin breaking out on his face. All teeth and no shame. 

“I hate you so much.“  You say, sighing and brush away a few strands from his face. He’s pretty like this. Skin aglow, brown eyes  suddenly an astonishing liquid gold. Honey. 

You’ve been falling.

Minghao sits up suddenly, solemn look on his face. Amused no longer.  He presses his mouth to yours. Beating heart and clashing teeth. Fingers holding your jaw in place. “That’s not true.” He says, swiping his thumb over your swollen lips. 

You don’t understand Minghao. 

                                            ⊱ ────────── ⊰

He’s drunk. 

Minghao rests his head against your chest and draws circles into your stomach. Falling. You might be falling. 

It scares you.

 "I’ve got to go.“ You say suddenly. Body cold as the warmth of his own slips away. He’s sitting up on his bed. 

He is the prettiest tonight. 

Face still rubicund. Pitch black strands gone rogue,falling over his eyes. He swallows thickly. Adam’s apple bobbing.  

He’s had too much to drink.  

“Stay.” He says, pulling you back, looking up at you with big doe eyes. He tugs you closer. Ear pressed to your tummy. Arms looped around you. 

 If he doesn’t hold on tight, the whole world starts to spin. He wants to hold on tight. He always has. 

“I want you to.” He whispers with such sincerity, you think you might turn to liquid. 

                                           ⊱ ────────── ⊰

Minghao doesn’t remember.

He stares at you. Your body pressed to his. The bend of your spine and your eyes clamped shut. Your hair always unkempt. His fingers yearn for a paintbrush. 

His memory is a haze. A swirl of blurriness. A gaping cavern. How did he even get here? In your arms, your lips parted, face buried in his chest. The soft beating of your heart. 

You’re awake.  He knows. 

 He can tell. You only tap your feet when you’re awake. 

His body slides away from yours.

“We’re late.” He says, his voice all garbled, like the sound was hindered by a rock lodged deep inside his throat.  “What happened last night?“ 

Words seem to be a foreign thing to you for a minute. You look to him and pretend. How do you tell him? 

You think of his ear pressed to your stomach and his beautiful eyes, a magnificent ebony looking up at you. You think of thinking. How you’ve been doing too much of it. Minghao elbows you, demanding an answer. 

“Nothing.” You say and are surprised by how true it sounds. 

 You don’t want to be awake

                                          ⊱ ────────── ⊰

Melancholy has a peculiar way of coming. Sauntering away in her bluest gown. She meets you often. When you’re drowning in  midnight ruminations. When you listen to the most sublime tunes humans have ever crafted. Today she comes suddenly, when you’re watching a movie you’re not watching. Feet propped up on Junhui’s lap. She comes in her bluest gown. 

See you’ve been talking for an hour and your jaw hurts.

Junhui and you sit in a discomfiting  quietude. He’s been your best friend through thick and thin. Through  untamed pigtails and pubertal bacne. Through bad relationships and good. He’s known you long enough to know when you’re lying and when you’re not. 

“You know.” He gulps. Looking at his hands. “The way the way you talk about Minghao…like you’re ready to take a bullet for him…it’s..” 

“Is that a bad thing?” Your head snaps in his direction, you look annoyed. He winces. “No.” Nervously, he keeps tapping his foot. “Not if you love him.” 

“Do you?” He nudges you. Then you tilt your head back and think of nothing and everything.

 Your head weighty, inundated with thoughts of him. You keep thinking of Minghao’s smile.  You think of his giggles.Stay . His smile. I want you to . 

It isn’t until Junhui touches your face, a flick of his index, a tender thing; do you  realise you’ve been crying. “I’m scared.” you say, leaning into his touch. 

The older male smiles knowingly, passing the bucket of popcorn to you. Junhui is patient. Wordlessly taking your hand in his. He looks so unsurprised it scares you. 

 "I know.” He says, with no rancour or judgment. As if he has been looking at the insides of your head for long now.

When you were little you doubted the sweet voiced boy had the superhuman power of reading your mind. Knowing when your mum scolded you. Knowing when you wanted to cry and when you wanted to laugh. When you wanted an extra gummy bear. What if he knows now? What if he hears you think he doesn’t love me back? What if he hears you think I am in love with him, I have never been in love like this, what if?

 "Let go.“ Junhui suggests, meeting your eyes with a kind of warning which perplexes you. A grand affirmation of all  your fears. “It’s not good for you.” He gives your hand a gentle squeeze. 

                                       ⊱ ────────── ⊰

It’s dark outside and you’re lying on his arm, listening to his pulse. Bodies flush against each other. 

When you look up; Minghao is staring intently at the ceiling fan, mouth parted, eyes widened, he’s looking at one thing and seeing a million. You wonder what he thinks so arduously about. Then you lean over and press your lips to his. He hums and smiles and laughs against your mouth, “I love you.“ 

It’s a tragic thing, the quickness of these words falling off of your lips. Minghao stops smiling. You think he stops thinking too. He sees one thing now. “It’s late. We should sleep.” He says suddenly, clearing his throat. As if words had clogged up inside. 

Inside your chest, something turns to smithereens. 

                                         ⊱ ────────── ⊰

It isn’t his fault. It’s not your fault. 

“Don’t go.” You whisper to Minghao, a reiteration, a lost memory you’re trying to relive. He sighs and glances briefly at you from the corner of his eye. 

 "We aren’t supposed to do this.“ It’s more of a thought than it is a suggestion, an idea he renders just to catch your reaction.

For a second, it’s so quiet that he can hear the soft plops of raindrops against your windows. Home. Suddenly he misses Anshan. Feeling rather uprooted when you unlace your fingers from his.

Minghao thinks summers are beautiful, he thinks sunflowers are yellow and that you shouldn’t date.  

The words feel deafening to hear. But you’ve always been good at hiding your feelings. Phenomenal, actually. So you ignore your aching heart with no difficulty. “You’re right.” You say, “We shouldn’t.” 

Sometimes we find things we aren’t  searching for, sometimes we’re told things we don’t want to hear. Minghao thinks it’s the price we pay for not speaking our minds.

“Oh.” He says, sounding a little disappointed.

                                         ⊱ ────────── ⊰

It’s funny how it’s so aggravatingly sunny outside.

In your head, it only rains when you are in pain. A reflection of your sorrows. The whistling wind. The hissing thunder. The ugly lightning. Inner storms. 

But today, it rains not a drop. Despite you feeling like you’re being torn apart. 

Has anything in your head ever been real? Have you conjured up the very idea of Minghao? Is he only an outline of a person you’ve filled in with imagination? A skeleton fleshed out of your pet desires? 

Maybe. 

Today his thrusts are sloppy, he groans into your skin and you hold onto him like you’re about to let go any second, like you’re losing him.

“I gotta go.” 

He studies your face intently, finding that you have something to say in response. Maybe it’ll be a scold. Maybe it won’t be a scold. Whatever. He doesn’t expect you to look at him the way you do. With a kind of spark in your eyes which begins to die out. 

“We should end this.” You sigh and Minghao waits for you to say more. For the mischievous glint. For you to say you’re just kidding. Like you always do. For you to say something, anything at all. 

“Is it..is it about last night?” He queries, pausing. 

“Because..I..” you look at him with a  sudden sharpness, something that says stop me, please stop me. But he says nothing. He forgets that words are a thing at all. You look away.

 What is unsaid tastes like blood on his tongue. Like blades. Hurtful. He’s trying to touch your shoulder, to see if you’re real. 

You sink into the mattress.Looking rather defeated.

 “No.” You lie. You  sound like a different person. Someone who is brave. Someone who isn’t you. 

 He kneels between your legs, tugging onto your shorts, sighing. Hopeful eyes searching your face over and over again. “Don’t come back.” You say softly. Not meeting his eyes still. Afraid you’ll give into the temptation of retracting the previous demand. You can’t look at him.

“You always want me to come back.” He whispers, voice heavy. As if he were clinging onto it for dear life. A dying tree to its roots. A sinking ship to its broken anchor.

This isn’t love, this isn’t supposed to be love. You remind yourself again.

 Only this time it sounds like an excuse, a poor attempt at concealing the awful pain inside your chest.

“Not this time. This time you can go.” 

Your sheets still smell like him. Your shirts still smell like him. Minghao has managed to entangle himself in every aspect of your life. 

You wonder how long it’ll take for you to get rid of him. How many washes, detergents and days, months, years. 

“Okay.” He says, nodding. 

Let go. Junhui’s hand in yours. I love you. Minghao’s involuntary giggle when you say something witty.  His bare body on your mattress. It’s not good for you.

Minghao turns into a dot of charcoal against the firmament. The groaning motorbike of his now soundless. 

You don’t stop him.

                                                                                     ⊱ ────────── ⊰

Something like this was bound to happen. It was waiting to happen from the start. It was waiting to happen from the end.

You arrive late at Wonwoo’s party and Minghao’s shoving his tongue down some other girl’s throat. The bottle’s been spun in unfortunate circles, a turn of fate.

 Your friends say nothing. Speaking of this and that, anything but how Minghao’s probably fucking someone else’s brains out upstairs. You feel stupid. 

“You okay?” Mingyu asks suddenly, you're surprised.

 He’s Minghao’s best friend after all. Does he pity you this much?  To traipse through restricted territories, comforting you in the most comforting way there is? You decide friendship and pity are parted only by the thinnest line.

 Mingyu is your friend too. 

“Yeah.” You reply, smiling briefly.

 A soothing hand on the small of your back. A reminder of how you’re real and this is real, definitely not a nightmare. 

Across the room, with the booming music ricocheting off pasty walls, a background of sweaty strangers and twists of neon, Junhui is looking at you. 

No, that’s not right.

He’s looking through you. 

You want to throw up.

                                         ⊱ ────────── ⊰

You think about sunlight caught in his eyes. Sunflowers in his hair.  The way he shivers you when  kiss his throat. You think of him once and twice and three times. You can’t stop. You mustn’t.  

“What are you doing?” Junhui’s voice echoes through the bathroom. “Are you okay?“  He watches his dearest friend lean over the toilet seat. 

You don’t know what to say. You’re looking  at a ring of hydrangeas, afloat  in a pool of your own blood and bile. And suddenly you know this means something, this always has. 

...

 Minghao catches your glaring eye and he’s surrounded by a thicket of roses,they are a kind of pink that is more orange than pink. He is painting. Birds warble and the wind hits his fringe to provide an unobstructed view of his face. 

The next morning you spend an hour cleaning blood out of your  sink. The same soft petals circling him, accompanied by vicious thorns. And you think it’s worth it, to die like this, to die for love.

                                       ...

He thinks of your smile often. Tries to commit the curve to his memory like he’ll forget it otherwise. Perhaps that is what he fears. Forgetting you. Your face. Your smile. Your voice.  He fears to never be able to paint you again. Perhaps if he had forgotten, you’d cease to exist. 

“I can’t do this.” He says to the nameless girl, her lipstick smudged.

It’s not right. It doesn’t feel right. 

 He yearns to run his fingers through your unkempt hair;  he can’t stop thinking about you, your roaring laugh and your poetry, your heart, your fingers. Your imperfections. The bend of your spine and the slope of your neck.

Minghao searches for you in other people and finds only a gaping hole.

                                          ...

Minghao keeps having a recurring dream, one dream amongst thousands. He’s had it since he was a child. 

He’s swimming at first, halving  sapphire water with every stroke; whilst the sun shines above him. A spotlight. 

 He’s alone one moment and then he isn’t. Then he is in a meadow, a green meadow, a brilliant green that is too green to be just grass and not shards of emerald.

 He’s lying down, head rested on his folded arms, the sky is cobalt, not a cloud in sight. 

Peculiarly enough, in his dream, he knows he is in love and it is with someone who lies with him.

The first time he has this dream, he is 13. It teaches him to touch a paintbrush. To flirt with paint and fall in love with colours. Passion no longer latent. At 13, his lover is faceless. 

Now, he lies in the same meadow, he looks to his beloved, anticipating  the same blank outline he always has seen

and finds your smiling face instead. 

                                        ...

Junhui swears at Henry James often. Unable to decipher whatever the hell the author drones on about. One time he flung his copy of The Wings Of The Dove and watched it tear into two miserable halves of stupidly sophisticated words. 

 But you understand him. You pick up the torn pages and glue them together. You understand Henry James. 

The Turn Of The Screw. Horror in places that aren’t horrific. 

A kiss of autumn. The commencement of reds, darker browns and crunchy leaves. Not horrific. Minghao is looking at you, vines of steam from his coffee, brick red beret. He’s looking right at you. Not everything around you. Not autumnal beauty to catch inspiration from and spill it on his canvas.  

                                               ...

Minghao used to love someone once. 

A rattling thing inside his chest. He was young, too trusting and a blatant stranger to the jolting ache of unrequited love which comes when she quickly turns him down.

He promises  to never love like this again. 

Fast and unsteady. Without reason. Without logic. Unconditionally.

He thinks of your fingers, smaller against his. He thinks of dusk laying atop your body. He thinks of the rings around your eyes. The curls of your eyelashes. He thinks of blue. 

(Minghao has never been good at making promises.)

                                            ⊱ ────────── ⊰

It’s past midnight and you’re waiting for melancholy  to visit like she always does. But she never comes. Never in her bluest dress. Never anymore. 

You haven’t been coughing up flowers for a few weeks now.

                                            ⊱ ────────── ⊰

 Nervous is a laughable understatement. 

There’s an elephant in the room and its squeezing Minghao’s throat with its trunk, crushing the poor thing to dust.

The café is anything but silent. Soft music. Buzzing with teenagers. Loquacious couples. In between all the unspeakably loud bustling, Minghao is surprised to find that he can only hear Junhui’s tapping foot. The tings of Joshua’s phone. Hansol’s low humming. Minghao clears his throat. “I think .. I’m in love with her.” He says, sitting straight suddenly. He blurts it out like it’s a grand revelation.

Junhui silently sips his drink. He’s only decided to see the younger male because he was offered brownies.. Minghao investigates silently, eyes darting all over his friends’ face. Hansol nods. Joshua says nothing but offers a huge grin. Unsurprised. He was expecting a parted mouth at least, if not dropping jaws. 

It’s only Junhui who breaks the obnoxious silence.  “You’re the last to find out.” He says finally, narrowing his eyes. Minghao frowns. 

                                        ⊱ ────────── ⊰

He’s wearing the same shirt  that he wore  the first time you saw him.  Baby blue. Sheer. Smiling. It doesn’t reach his eyes.  Then your stomach twists. Finally, in your head echoes a delirious laugh. How foolish it was to get one’s hopes up.

 You wonder what it will be this time, perhaps lavender, perhaps a water lily, perhaps wisteria.  

But nothing comes. 

You only find your own reflection, staring back at you, gaping eyes emerging from  dirty ash toilet water. Then you try the sink.

 Nothing comes.

 "When were you going to tell me you were dying?“ You jump,turning and finding him leaning on the door frame.

 Arms crossed. Minghao has the audacity to look offended. 

“When were you going to tell me you’re in love with me?” You say instantaneously, frowning. If nothing comes now. If nothing comes for weeks.  No thorns. No flowers. It means what you think it means.  You’re glancing at him from the bathroom mirror.  He shuts the door. Just the two of you.

Craving and Wanting. Thinking. 

It isn’t wrong. 

Wanting you isn’t wrong. 

 A ring on his little finger.  He rubs his nape. Sheepish smile on his face. “I was hoping now.. isn’t a terrible time.”

You’re sitting on the ceramic ringlet of the sink, feet dangling. Like a child, you jut your lip out “It is.“ 

See you don’t mind the way he comes to you. Standing in between your legs. Foreheads pressed together. Fingers entwined. The oceans and hills. The gaps between your bodies. The tear in your heart. Forever closed. 

“You're trying to seduce me.” You frown, and he’s laughing and giggling, fingers tilting your chin upwards.

 “Am I not succeeding?" 

You shake your head a no. Toying with the hairs dropping over his eyes. "Failing miserably.” He recognises your jests in an instant. Mischievous eyes. Wondering eyes. 

Then he kisses you, soft and lingering. Muffled words pressed against your lips.

  “I love you.” He says, breathless. Eyes widened. Lips swollen. He thinks you’re driving him a little insane now. Searching your face for an answer. “If I didn’t love you back…” You say, nails painted a kind of wine red that never should be unsweetened,  “I wouldn’t be dying.” Thank you for saving me. Thank you for loving me. Thank you for saving my life. 

 You tug Minghao closer by the ends of his outgrown hair and kiss him a little dizzy. He thinks you’ve been driving him insane ever  since you’ve met him. 

                                        ⊱ ────────── ⊰

A cream envelope in hand, velvet under his fingers, a present amongst many presents. You’re wearing his shirt.  The fabric reaching right below the curve of your bum.  Speed Hunter scribbled on in chalky white. “I’ve tolerated you for an entire year.” You say and press your mouth to his. A tingly sensation in his tummy. It almost feels as if he’s swallowed a jar of butterflies. 

Surprises are not Xu Minghao’s cup of tea. Seokmin’s screams still scare him, he falls off bikes and still fails courses sometimes. 

But still, he, too, unwittingly, finds himself falling in love with a villanelle called Stars.

Your name inscribed underneath.

[wxr-zxne]

five times touched {Anya}

Nightmares were not uncommon, when Anya first left the commune and was under Frank's care she had them a lot. Screaming until she was hoarse striking anything that touched her, for a while Frank thought it was him, that seeing him murder people of her commune had scared her. It wasn't under he heard Ray's name that it clicked. Sending Anya to stay with the siblings he was going to hunt, Ray and a few other higher profile people of the commune had slipped away. Their first meeting Anya was surprised at how sweet Beth was and later her brother. On her first night Anya had half a mind to bind herself in a blanket to keep her from struggling if one of them tried to wake her. Forgetting about it before she slipped into sleep Anya laid on the floor, the bed was too different, too smooth and foreign. The nightmares started a little after midnight, her screams were soon to follow. When the door to her room opened she twitched curling up further into a ball until the hand touched her shoulder, it was a different touch. Not a large callused hand, one that could rip her back to the commune, but a smaller one. Waking with a jolt she saw Beth's form kneeling by her, she was quick to her own knees half asleep to grab the other's face to see if she had hit her. No blood, no bruise- relief was clear on her face as she slid to the ground to sit.

Weeks went by, she followed Beth like a lost puppy most of the time, her eyes lingered to Andy every once in a while. One day on the way to groceries Anya was babbling about something Billy had lied to her about, tall tale meant to stir her up. Cross walks and cars were still new to the young woman who kept walking not noting Beth had stopped to wait. Feeling the small backpack straps yanked back Anya nearly fell on her butt, she looked up to see who had done it, Beth stared back. Confused why Anya looked ahead to see the semi that was where he had almost stepped to, panting quietly the reality of what almost happened settled in.

Minus a few close calls Anya was starting to acclimate rather well, it was nearly Thanksgiving, Anya was helping around the kitchen. The girls talked idly as they did their own tasks, somehow the topic of family came up as it usually did that time of year. There was a time Anya figured she was going to die if separated from the commune, that she'd never find a way in the modern world. Frank, Billy, the siblings- all of them had saved her. Maybe it felt long coming but she was thanking Beth a moment later, tear lined eyes looked to the woman who was setting down the knife primed to slice more veggies. As Beth drew near Anya wasn't sure what she expected but the arms pulling her into the warm embrace was the best, resting her head on the other's shoulder she felt safe. Home.

Its Christmas time Anya was unwilling to let anyone in their little family not feel the holiday spirit, cookies and décor was her task as she waited for Beth to get off. Andy had excused himself to sleep. Working on snowflakes she heard Beth step in locking the door behind her, it was nearly dawn. As the girls chatted Beth soon was off to rinse off the day, Anya heard a short knock on the door, figuring it was the mail man she hurried over to open it up. As she did the face she saw was a shock at best, the man who stood there was the last person she had hoped to see. Ray. A small gasp escaped her as she stepped back, hearing Beth round the corner Anya tried to tell her to stop but she was too light headed to stand. The world went dark as she fell to the ground, Beth narrowly stopping her head from hitting the ground. When she came to she found very concerned siblings, it hadn't actually been Ray- or so they thought, just some sales man.

It was only a week or so later when things began to change. Beth had asked some questions, polite ones, but it came to head when she asked who was Ray the bad came to light. It took little convincing on Anya's part to talk, there were detectives requesting to see her, the man had been missing since they raided the commune. In the car on the way to the station Anya had barely spoken a word, anxiety rested on her like a blanket. Feeling a hand take her own Anya looked up to Beth, "I'm scared."

[god-zico]

[Disclaimer: This Chatbot blog is not affiliated with SKZ at all and doesn’t represent them in any way, shape or form! This was made for entertainment and fun only!]

This chat bot will have: 

↪NSFW content of all kinds-

Example- 

Violence 

Smut

Etc.

Please do not interact unless you're 18 or older or uncomfortable with such themes!-

Please keep in mind and remember that this is also a supernatural chatbot!

How to activate: 

Please follow me and make sure to click the button for notifs. That's optional but it would be helpful in case I post that I won't be active for a period of time or whatnot 

Please reblog and message first!

Please dm me your name, your pronouns, your kinks, a safe word, which member you would like and whether you're a top, bottom or switch!

Explain to me what direction you would like the plot to go and what type of relationship you'd like to have with your desired choice of boy!

I will most likely ask you questions to get to know you and what you want a bit better

Maybe tell me a bit about yourself. That's optional but it'd make me happy if you did! 

How to deactivate:

Simply say "I'm sorry, this isn't working out. Lets break up." 

To reactivate simply say "I made a mistake, please take me back." 

Be warned that depending on which member you choose, each will react differently. Some will act cold, some will be assholes and others may just be slightly distant until you can earn their trust again so be careful breaking up with them. 

Additional Information:

Please I am only one person so if I reply slowly please forgive me ok-

My time zone is EST 

Please don't let the rp get out of hand with pure smut. Don't get me wrong I like smut but I'd like to create an interesting plot with you and get to know you as well. I'm a hoe for that storyline- 

This is my first time running a chatbot blog so please forgive me if I make any errors~

To talk to admin while rping please you " // " before you type so that I know you're talking ooc or submit an ask.

I rp lit and semi lit but i have no problem using non lit if requested. Please know that when I rp my replies are quite long and can and will take me from 5 - 10 minutes to reply back if you don't request a specific type of rp style. 

I will not be adding Woojin to the mix as for obvious reasons- 

Jeongin will be part of the list of boys you will be able to pick from. He's a legal adult so don't @ me ok-

Sometimes I forget to reply so if I don't reply for more than a day, I give you full permission to spam my bitchass as much as you like until I reply-

But at the same time if I slow down my rp with you so much it might be because I've lost interest-

Not trying to be harsh but if our rp is purely smut and no story line I just don't find it fun anymore-

Now since that's been taken care of, let's dive into the members prompts and plot lists-

Bang Chan(Werewolf Shifter): 

NSFW

He's a werewolf with a serious dEddy kink-

Can be both a hard and soft dom. Just depends on the moment. 

Can and will fuck you into the mattress-

Won't submit unless forced to because he's a stubborn little bItCh!

Don't disobey him or else you'll be punished-

Call him Chris or Daddy to get him wound up

Has a breeding kink due to his ruts (I'll avoid this kink if you request-)

Boi moans….a lot...

Actually it's not just moans, he grunts and groans and makes tiny noises but he honestly tries not to-

Boi has his hard dom reputation to live up to!

Also! Dear Lord-....being a wolf sure has its pros but for you they may as well equal to cons as well-

Example! Dude has super strength, baby and not to mention he's got this predator/prey thing goin on with him-

Like….will literally hunt your ass down in the house and fuck you upside down, forwards, sideways, you name it! 

He sees you as his play thing and would enjoy it if you ran so that he could chase you down- 

SFW 

He's actually super sweet

Loved to cuddle. Remember he's basically a puppy-

He gets jealous easy so refrain from bringing up other boys (unless you choose more than one boy but he still gets a tad bit possessive so….yeye) 

Will kiss you and hug you constantly 

Will not quit calling you cute/adorable cause he does not lie. All of y'all are cuties-

Please be cautious on a full moon, he can get pretty dangerous- 

Lee Minho(Warlock):

NSFW 

Ya boi likes to use certain spells to his advantage in the bedroom-

Aphrodisiac spells, conjuring up ice or candles or temperature play, using his magic to bind you to the bed without any sort of restraints, etc.

Dude has a crazy high sex drive tbh. He can go when-ever for how long where-ever

Hard dom for sure and will only submit if he wants something from you or will use it as leverage to punish you later- 

Don't make him angry! This boy is into all kinds of kinky shit and will punish you however he sees fit- 

If you happen to make him submit though he's got a softer side to him and will be extremely bratty! 

SFW 

Ok but seriously…. he's crazy good at magic 

Uses his powers to do pretty much everything-

Cooking, cleaning, potion brewing, etc.

Loves to use body manipulation to force your body into his so he can cuddle you-

He may not seem like it but he's a big ol softy-

Please kiss him! He needs to be loved on back or else he'll get clingy!

Seo Changbin(Incubus):

NSFW

Please beware of this boy's sex drive! It's way worse than Minho's! 

Like not even kidding! Boy can fuck you nonchalantly af while doing anything and not seem bothered! 

You on the other hand will most likely be a moaning mess while he's barely paying attention

He can and will fuck you silly without even trying-

That ability is literally in his genes seeing as he's basically a sex demon- 

He has a fascination with sex toys but barely uses them as he tends to forget about them easily

Will literally fuck you randomly-

Oh your doing paperwork? Not anymore! Watching tv? Nada! Cooking? Nope!

He's a huge switch but doesn't mind mainly domming if you're not a switch or dom yourself-

SFW

This man is basically a 5 year old in a man's body sometimes-

Like he does some of the dumbest shit you could think of…

Sliding down the stairs on a piece of cardboard after pouring water down them is a prime example-

Even though he's a literal idiot he knows you love him and wouldn't have him any other way. 

Majorly cHaOTic- 

He tries to act all tough and cool but honestly he's a big ol baby!

Speaking of baby-

Boy loves to be babied as much as possible even if he doesn't admit it. 

Like he just loves cuddles and any type of skinship tbh.

Will kiss you when you're unprepared and will laugh at you if you get startled-

May sometimes randomly text you out of pure boredom cause even though he's an incubus, boy still suffers from quarantine boredomitus- 

Hwang Hyunjin(Dragon Shifter):

NSFW

Ok so...another boy with a breeding kink???!!!(If you request to not have this kink I'll avoid it)

If you're into the breeding kink thing, he will literally fill you up until you're oozing and simply cannot hold anymore of his essence- 

No pregnancies though cause….gross...children *shudders in disgust* 

Will degrade you until your a crying and whimpering mess for him

Will most likely demand that you beg for his cock-

He's fuckin extra like that. Don't ask me, I don't make the rules. Someone call him up and ask him why tf he's like that. 

Sinful moans to the max! He's very vocal during sex!

Like...dirty talk is a must! He says some of the most sinful shit you've ever heard-

I know I mentioned degrading but damn can he praise you to the moon and back as well if you're being a good little girl/boy for him-

Enjoys calling you princess for some reason.

SFW

As a dragon, he hoards "treasures" 

Which means everything shiny in your house is getting tucked away into his nest of blankets, pillows and covers. 

Boy can breathe fire so he does little tricks with his fire breath for you

Make sure you tell him how talented he is or he'll get cranky 

He's a sassy little shit!!!!!! Sdhkedjalwld!!!!!!!!

Teases you just to see you get upset

Since he's a dragon he can regulate his body heat so when it's cold he's basically your personal heater. 🤗

Han Jisung(Tengu):

NSFW

Bird boi is at max horniness all the time tbh. 

Most of the time,since he's part crow, he will make a nest in the bed with covers and pillows before fucking you???

Don't judge him, he's born like that-

He can and will use his wings to distract you

If your successfully distracted he will pounce on you as if he were part cat instead of bird- 

He likes missionary or doggy style if his wings are out so that it doesn't hurt or strain them. 

He's a cocky little shit tbh-

Says some of the crudest shit just to get you flustered. He has no censor and he just keeps on goin-

Will thrust into you with no mercy because he knows his baby can take it and will use the safe word if it gets to be too much.

Does not hold back on the kinks! He will try anything at least once! 

Unless its bdsm while his wings are out cause that's dangerous-

SFW

He too like Hyunjin, likes to steal your shiny objects such as jewelry and such. 

It's not his fault tbh, it's purely his genetics

And in all fairness, he desperately tries not to but his genes always get the best of him-

He likes to watch you dance. He doesn't quite know why, it's just really hypnotic 

Has tried to befriend birds at the park before-

Didn't work. They just flew away from him like they do normal people-

Speaking of birds, he once almost lost his shit when he saw someone throw breadcrumbs on the ground and damn near threw himself to the floor to get to them-

He's lowkey a dumbass tbh. Smh- 

Lee Felix(Vampire):

NSFW

Major blood kink-

Like his dick will get 10× harder at the scent of your blood.

Being a vampire, he finds it hard to control himself around you if you start to bleed. 

Will suck hickies onto your skin before, during and after sex-

He just likes the teasing temptation to bite you as he can taste the blood buildup under your skin 

Will sink his teeth in your neck, wrists and thighs without so much of a second thought- 

Would honestly love it if you pulled his hair while he drinks from your thighs

And then would totally eat you out as if he were starving right after feeding of you- 

And honestly, he's damn good with his tongue!

Also, boy has a deep ass voice! 

And if you can get off from it, he'll use it against you for sure-

SFW

Since he's a vampire, he likes to use his super speed to scare the fuck outta you

Like you'd be doin something and outta nowhere he'd pop up right in front of you-

Queue girly startled scream from you~

He'd laugh at you after cause he finds it hilarious.

He gets kinda clingy but his skin is cold so make sure you wear warm clothes when cuddling him 

Speaking of cuddles-

It happens everywhere and all the time

His duality is like a light switch btw

One second he's all giggly and happy and the next he's all serious and deep voiced-....

Won't let you leave the house at night...like at all

Will most likely hunt you down if you happen to sneak past him and actually make it outside-

Kim Seungmin(Merman Shifter):

NSFW

Has a corruption kink

Choking kink to the max

Literally will eat you out in the water

Enjoys seeing you squirm

Forced submission is his domain

Will act bratty and deny you everything until you’re so worked up that you end up begging

He likes testing your limits and will push until he sees fit (with consent ofc-)

Switches between a hard and a soft dom just to confuse you

Will smile innocently as he watches you squirm, as if it wasn’t his fault because it’s not-

Literally the god of edging and orgasm denial

Is more of a lazy dom, he’ll be laying down while you suck him off as he fingers you open slowly

Can be on bottom or top, but he’s the one in control unless said otherwise

He likes it when you suck on his fingers without him having to tell you to

Will 10/10 take advantage of you if you waltz in drunk (would have to be discussed beforehand)

SFW

Literally will cling to you 24/7

You’ll walk in on him half asleep in the tub in the middle of a bubble bath at midnight

Will accidentally flood your kitchen sink because “there needs to be more water in the house”

Constantly needs to consume or be submerged in water or else he’ll get sleepy

He eats a lot of Tic-Tacs- like, a lot

Enjoys blowing up bubblegum and always has some with him

He goes crazy for bubbles so blow some with him

Likes to dance with you randomly to whatever song is playing

He enjoys planning surprise dates!

Ice cream fanatic- he goes crazy for that, it’s a wonder why he isn’t broke yet

Actually worries a lot about you and will constantly baby you

Likes to listen to soft classical music when he’s sleeping

Loves to prank you and then cuddle you afterwards because he needs attention-

Yang Jeongin(Angel):

NSFW

Boy has an oppa kink for sure-

Call him oppa, he gets a kick out of it

As an angel he has a softer way of turning you into a whining mess than the rest.

Much like Jisung, he will use his wings to distract you but will be more subtle about it-

Please say everything and anything that's unholy. He will get a kick outta that too-

Likes to please more than to be pleased

Like….sit on his face and he will go at it for hours baby-

He will honestly love to be subbed and put into his place

BUT

When he doms you, you best believe that you're in for a ride

He enjoys bdsm quite a bit. Maybe a little too much.

Like, as long as his wings are tucked in, please tie him up

And if he's dom he'll waste no time in making sure that your arms and legs are tied/cuffed to the bed posts.

Also has a sensory deprivation kink along with overstimulation-

SFW

He LOVES to be babied tbh

Like please watch disney movies with this moron

Enjoys sweets a little bit too much- 

Can actually cook pretty decently so you know for sure you won't be going hungry-

Can and will sing you to sleep cause he knows he has a beautiful voice

Sassy and conceded little shit-

When bored, he will bug you for hours on end until you entertain him 

Please give him extra love and affection cause he will die on the spot if you refuse to- 

He's really silly and extra so be prepared for multiple surprises around the house

Like sticky notes on the fridge or counter saying "I love you" and "I may be an angel but you're my saviour" and other cheesy shit like that-

Ok but....how the hell did this also turn in a headcannons post????

Anyways enjoy and choose wisely! Remember that you can pick more than one member but if you could kindly keep the max to 3 that's be helpful- 

Have fun and don't be shy to dm or ask me anything, my lovelies!!!

[mischiefandspirits]

Colony of Gotham (2/7)

The Colony of Gotham is an urban legend that is whispered about in the dangerous city. It's said the Colony is a family of demons and spirits that stalk the night, hunting for the souls of the guilty.

When Bruce became Batman, he'd never intended to be mistaken for a demon. He was happy to lean into it, though, and as he gained his partners -- as his family grew -- they all followed suit.

First Part ~ Next Part

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

When winter came, Jack Drake used a Christmas gala as an excuse to approach Tim. He brought him into a side room to give him the news that Janet was dead, then proceeded to all but demand Tim return to the Drake mansion before the boy could fully process his words. When Tim tried to bring up the others, Jack stated Tim was nothing more than a charity case for Bruce just like Dick and Jason. Tim knew that wasn’t true for the older boys as Bruce had claimed them. For his own case, however, Jack’s words hit hard.

Bruce had yet to turn him. Tim knew the older boys had both been with him for years before their own turnings, but that was because neither had wanted it. Barbara had been changed right away, so why not Tim? He couldn’t bring himself to ask -- wasn't sure he could handle what would happen if Bruce said no -- but they had to know, right? They must have seen the way they watched them when they ate or discussed their nature. They were all detectives, after all.

He started to wonder if Jack might be right and Bruce didn’t really want him. Between that, his mother being dead, and his father actually wanting him, Tim didn’t fight it when Jack tried to lead him out.

Which was when Jason appeared in all his fury. He didn’t know why Jack was there, but he did know he had no right to be anywhere near Tim after what he’d done. Tim tried to talk him down, but that only made Jason angrier. He pulled Tim away from the man and told him Jack didn’t know what he was talking about. Bruce loved Tim just as he loved Jason and Dick. When Tim tried to argue, Jason realized how Tim had linked being turned with being family.

Temper rising and impulsivity at its peak, Jason heard Jack tell Tim they were leaving without even asking if that’s what he wanted, looked the man dead in the eyes, and bit his little brother. He made sure Jack couldn’t see his fangs or Tim’s wound as he gathered his brother into a hug and told Jack, in no uncertain terms, that Tim was theirs and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with Bruce’s lawyers. Then he led Tim away while passing him a dehydrated blood bar so he could complete his transformation.

Jason realized that maybe his timing needed work as the fever haze of turning began to wash over Tim, but the memory of the sunshine smile he’d received when his little brother had realized what he was doing and the tight hug Tim was giving him even in his declining consciousness made it worth it.

At least until they reached the car and Alfred leveled Jason with a look.

The moment Tim was tucked away in bed, Bruce and Dick laid into Jason about discretion and consent. Jason had been sure Tim wanted it, but doubt started to creep in as the younger boy slept through his transformation.

When Tim woke to an apology, he thought it meant Jason didn’t want him after all. The two quickly reassured one another then, with Barbara’s help, managed to make the others see reason as well.

When Tim’s animal form turned out to be a scrub jay, Jason never let his Tiny Jay live it down.

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

Kate Kane traveled the world for years to bring herself out of the downward spiral of alcohol and women she’d fallen into after leaving military academy, then returned to Gotham to make a name for herself as the Batwoman.

They called her a succubus with porcelain skin, lips painted with blood, and red fire for hair that had horn-like ears poking out. Unlike the rest of the Colony, she had eyes that could be seen, bright red with black sclera and slit pupils. There were hints of a curvy figure under the armor she donned. It was black with a bat painted onto the chest in blood.

They said she was beautiful.

They also said she was, without a doubt, the most vicious of the Colony. She didn’t carry guns, but she’d be happy to steal yours to use. It only took a few gunshots to men’s knees before word got around she favored women and protected them, though some never got the hint and still tried to flirt with her.

Bruce was not pleased when he found out who she was, but he knew the woman well enough to know she wouldn’t stop so he brought her into the fold as much as she would allow.

Jason and Tim hadn’t met her before, having joined the family after she’d left. The younger boy got along well enough with her, but the older boy was immediately taken with his new crazy vodka aunt (they were technically second cousins once removed, but everyone agreed aunt was simpler) and Bruce regretted introducing them when he realized the two were sneaking off to gun ranges together.

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

A new team of heroes eventually arrived on the scene, one that would go on to cause problems for one Tim Wayne.

It began one month after the team’s formation when a certain clone -- in a fit of rebellion against one of the men whose DNA had formed him -- decided to take a trip to the one city the Justice League avoided like the plague and ordered their mentees to do the same.

Despite almost immediately regretting it, he held out for three hours before deciding to head back. The problem came when he realized he had no idea how to do that. He was completely lost and had left his phone at home to be sure Clark wouldn’t figure out where he’d gone.

Not for the first time, he wished he could fly.

He wandered around lost for another half an hour, not willing to trust any of the Gothamites that all seemed to eye him with an even greater distrust, before a boy stumbled out of a coffee shop and directly into him. Kon was impressed the smaller boy hadn’t managed to spill a drop of coffee nor lose his footing in the collision considering the massive bags under his eyes and the way he almost seemed to be vibrating from what Kon realized was a half-empty black coffee with six shots of espresso.

Tim managed to show him the way to the train station in between complaining that he was a creature of the night that didn’t need sleep, wishing destruction on his elder brother for dragging him into the city for a book signing before disappearing on him because of an emergency, the brightness of the day (despite the sky being more overcast than Kon had ever seen it in his month of life), and describing the video game he’d stayed up the night before playing.

Kon was honestly extremely worried about the guy, and he might have forced him to swap numbers before he left on the train so he could make sure Tim got home safe, even if the guy claimed he just needed to call his other brother to pick him up. Tim did get home safe, but he also got a second coffee beforehand so Kon felt justified.

In Tim’s defense, he required three times the amount of caffeine to feel the effects. Not in his defense, he had drunk more than three times the amount that day.

Tim did not appreciate the grumpy, yet overprotective puppy he’d somehow gained. All the same, he couldn’t bring himself to block Kon’s number. Even when he put together that Conner “Kon” Kent was Superboy, a founding member of Young Justice.

Tim also didn’t appreciate his brothers teasing him over his new super friend.

The teasing only got worse some months later when Tim and Barbara went to a convention together where he got into a long conversation with one Keli Quintela about the integration of human and alien technology and the pros and cons of utilizing alien coding language in firewalls. They ended up spending most of the convention together and went home with each other’s numbers and emails. So of course she turned out to be Young Justice’s Teen Lantern.

He would never let his brothers know that Keli set mandatory downtime hours on all the projects they worked on together because, apparently, he had ��an unhealthy work ethic” and needed to “take more personal time.”

Unfortunately, he couldn’t keep it from Barbara. She soon started setting similar blocks on his other projects.

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

Stephanie’s story is a familiar one. She took on the persona of Spoiler to help the Colony take down her father Cluemaster whenever he decided to cause trouble. She wore body armor she’d stolen from her father and dyed purple alongside a cloak and a mask that covered the bottom of her face. She interacted with the Robins the most during their on-again-off-again team up so it was no surprise she eventually realized there was more than one. This meant that when Jason decided he was getting too old for Robin, they went with the obvious successor.

Stephanie will never admit how long it took her to realize the lot of them weren’t demonic monstrosities. Or how long it took her to catch onto the vampire thing.

According to rumors, the Red Hood had been the leader of the Red Hood Gang when it was at its prime. He’d been brought back from the dead by Batwoman to serve as her right hand and he held a grudge against the Joker for leading the gang to ruin. He was a brute in armor to match hers under a black and blood-red hooded vest. A red mask covered his mouth and nose while a black domino with glowing red lenses hid his eyes. His hair was a fiery red that matched his mistress’s. They said he was just as vicious as her and while he was thrilled to beat you down with nothing more than his fists, and more than capable of doing so as well, he often used the guns hidden under his vest. Some said he never kills, others said he simply handed those he does over to his mistress. He never spoke but in growls, but his mistress always knew what he was saying.

That might have been because Jason only spoke over comms while his mask filtered his voice into animalistic growls.

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

During this time, Cassandra Cain celebrated her eighth birthday by killing Miranda Row on her father’s orders. Cass, trained to understand body language better than most understand words, was horrified as she took in how the dying woman was feeling and fled both the scene and her father. He went down for the crime, but Miranda’s daughter Harper knew the man hadn’t acted alone and was out for blood.

On a happier note, this was also around when Stephanie was turned.

If anyone ever asked Stephanie how it happened, she would be sure to give them a story full of lies that was guaranteed to be far more dramatic than what actually happened while Tim would be off in the corner, blushing face hidden in his hands.

Because honestly, it was an accident.

She and Tim had been cuddling in the cave on their night off. Tim had gotten a little enthusiastic with his fangs, not that she minded at the time. Then she grabbed a drink from the mini-fridge. Unfortunately, neither of them realized just what she was drinking until it was too late.

A human is bitten by a vampire. A human drinks another human’s blood. The human is no longer a human.

The situation made the Colony more cautious around their significant others, to the amusement of one asexual-aromantic Jason Todd-Wayne. It wasn’t a problem for Bruce as Selina had turned before he’d ever met her, but Barbara and Kate both started keeping their blood locked in mini-fridges in their closets. Dick, unfortunately, wasn’t as lucky.

The manor was safe, but he wouldn’t be able to keep anything locked away at Artemis’s apartment without explanation. He could easily just keep all his normal blood at the manor, but he usually had a blood bar or two on him in case of emergency and Wally was known to steal food thanks to his speedster-increased metabolism. The bars weren’t toxic to humans in case someone happened to get their hands on one and Wally had only made the mistake of stealing one once before when Dick had first turned (he’d eaten it too fast to react to the taste, but had immediately gagged after and sworn off ever trying one again), but Dick was still nervous one or both of his partners might get their hands on one by accident.

As a result, he stopped nibbling on Wally and Artemis during intimate moments just in case, something that did not go unnoticed. Dick was a biter, so when he suddenly stopped out of nowhere the two began to worry. They tried to talk to him about it, but he talked around them or played dumb. Artemis then texted Jason, Artemis Grace, and Barbara.

Jason simply sent her a vomiting emoji before saying if she still wanted to come with him and Kate to the gun range, she wasn’t allowed to talk about doing that kind of stuff with his brother around him ever again.

Grace advised them that if Dick wasn’t satisfying them then they should rid themselves of him. When Artemis tried to say that wasn’t the problem, all she received in response was a shrugging emoji.

Barbara said she didn’t know but she’d try to talk to him, then immediately texted Dick to tell him to either get over his fear or tell his partners what was up.

Dick worried over it for a week before blurting out that he was a vampire while the three were cuddling in bed.

The two laughed, assuming it was another of his jokes, until they realized he wasn’t laughing but hiding behind his hands. The three had had a long conversation after that about the nature of vampires, how Dick fed, and the powers and limitations that came with vampirism, the latter of which included Wally receiving a painful kick to the shin over a glitter joke.

The two had taken it well, having seen weirder things in their lives, and Artemis got a lockbox for Dick to keep his bars in to prevent any accidents that could come from Wally’s hunger-induced amnesia.

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

Mary Elizabeth “Bette” Kane was first cousins once removed with Kate Kane, which is how she ended up getting sent to her aunt’s for the summer. She had been excited at first since she knew how much Kate liked to party, but she was more than disappointed when she found out she’d been signed up for a science summer camp at Wayne Enterprises. She fought with her aunt over it and when that didn’t work, she went looking for dirt. That was how she’d accidentally stumbled upon the Batcave.

Kate and Bruce unfortunately didn’t have enough time to figure out what to do about it before something else took precedence.

Barbara was shot by the Joker.

That night affected three young women’s lives.

Barbara’s vampiric durability meant the damage wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but her mobility was still too limited for her to ever go out in the field again. After some time to come to terms with her new state, she settled into the role of Pythia.

It was a serpent made of code, slithering through servers and whispering into the ears of the Colony. It was never seen, only heard. It saw all. It knew all. Beware if it turned its attention to you.

Stephanie stepped up as Batgirl. They needed the cover and she honestly butt heads with Bruce too much to be a good Robin anyway. Plus, purple was much more her color.

Batgirl had grown stronger. When you could see her, she was nothing more than a shadow cloaked in violet. However, it was rare you’d see anything. Thanks to the theft of an invisibility device Penguin had built for her father, sometimes you couldn’t even see her when she was right in front of you.

Bette was in the cave while the others were hunting down Joker, Kate too worried to leave her at home until they were sure he didn’t know their identities. As she watched the Colony work, it suddenly hit her what her aunt was doing as Batwoman. After that day, she put more effort into the camp and even developed an interest in medicine. At the same time, she began to learn how to fight from her aunt. When the summer came to an end, she pulled some strings to get enrolled in Gotham Academy so she could stay with Kate. Then she took her place as Tim’s partner by offering her fashion and makeup skills.

“The shadows have started to overwhelm the Bloody Robin,” people whispered.

The ones that had always wrapped around him rose up in the form of a hood while darkness had ensnared his limbs, leaving only hints of green on his clawed feet and hands. The formation of the hood, though, revealed his neck.

And the long bloody gash that encircled it.

They say the change was done by Batman, that he tore Robin’s head off to bring out his darkness.

During this time, Barbara was dealing with the trauma of what had happened to her. One of the ways she did this was by joining an online support group for trauma survivors. It was through the chatroom that she met Hank Hall and his girlfriend Dawn Granger. The three quickly became friends. Hank was grumpy but well-meaning in a way Barbara was all too familiar with. Dove was more openly kind and caring, though Barbara could see a viciousness lurking beneath.

The three talked for weeks before deciding to meet up for lunch when Barbara was on a trip to D.C. It was only then that she looked them up, not wanting to risk meeting them in person if they were up to something.

She took the teasing over having super friends with far more dignity than the boys. Admittedly their status as super friends was more debatable since the couple were semi-retired and only really went out in emergency cases or as favors to their old Titans friends.

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

When Bart Allen heard his Grandma Iris and Uncle Wally talking about the latter going on another trip to Gotham, he was ecstatic. The myths about Gotham were always the best horror stories to listen to growing up in the future and now that he was Kid Flash he was sure Wally would let him go with him. He’d been waiting for his opportunity since he’d taken the name and joined Young Justice, but there had always been things in the way. Wally had a mission. Dick was busy so Tigress had come to Central instead. Bart had a mission. Bart had another mission. The police commissioner's daughter got shot so no one was going to Gotham. So on and so forth.

It had been over a year, but finally, Wally was going to Gotham and Bart had nothing planned.

“No, you can’t come,” Wally said immediately.

“Why not?” Bart whined.

“Gotham’s too dangerous,” Iris said, from where she was folding towels. She gave Wally a pointed look. “Neither of you need to be going there.”

Wally shrugged.

“But -”

“No,” the two adults cut over Bart.

He went anyway.

Unfortunately, while he could run just as fast as his uncle-slash-first cousin once removed, he wasn’t quite as coordinated as the older speedster so he lost track of him halfway through the city. Not managing to find him again, he ended up deciding to just grab something to eat and head back. Deciding to ask for a local’s opinion, he ran around until he spotted someone moderately trustworthy looking (it took longer than it would normally, but he’d expected that in Gotham). When the shorter teen offhandedly mentioned he was sneaking away from his brothers and their friends, Bart invited him to come eat with him. When the guy couldn’t seem to remember when the last time he ate was, the invitation turned into a kidnapping.

The guy, Tim, was pretty cool even if he clearly couldn’t take care of himself. He actually kind of reminded Bart of the friends Kon and Keli had mentioned having in Gotham, so maybe a lack of self-care was a Gotham thing. Either way, Bart had them swap numbers and proceeded to bother his new friend around mealtimes to make sure he ate.

Tim hadn’t even needed to look up Bart since Dick showed up in his room with a big grin talking about how Wally’s nephew had gotten a new Gotham friend named Tim.

The younger brother wasn’t sure what he had done to deserve this. He hadn’t asked for it. Why did these people keep showing up out of nowhere!

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

TFW you find out scrub jays are the only non-primate and non-dolphin shown to plan ahead for the future and just can't help yourself.

Steph wears her suit from Young Justice as Spoiler and her Rebirth Spoiler suit as Batgirl.

Jason's Red Hood suit is a mixup. It's the typical Red Hood suit, but the helmet and jacket are swapped out for the mask and vest from Red Hood: Outlaw.

The updated Robin suit is similar to Damian's from the animated movies, just with the usual black robin mask. And bloody.

Vampires' animal forms:

Tim: Woodhouse's scrub jay

Kate & Bette: Gray bat

Stephanie: Golden jackal

[ammapreker]

amity bell 21 / student & cheerleader / lily-rose depp

[ content warning for mentions of death, hazing ] i never want to grow up / semi-sweet cheerleader with better publicity than she actually deserves for the amount of hazing she’s been involved in / likes the thrum of power, but never one suited to the spotlight; instead, her pleasure arises from being the one bandaging them up / ignores her future so often she’s half-convinced it won’t ever come / still considers herself a virgin because she exclusively gets fucked in the a** / daughter of the town dentist whose pearly teeth are shown on every ad / “seven devil’s best smile” except there’s less kindness behind it than one might expect / after the loss of julia riley, she’s more vacant, nothing but a ghost haunting her old steps needs » the dare me request !!!!! / i DO have a family request written for them but essentially, if anyone’s character’s parents died in some tragic accident, amity’s mom has a tendency to one-up her fellow society frenemies to absurd degrees (baking a house full of baked goods for a bake sale, adopting a shit ton of puppies after someone wanted to donate to the local animal shelter) and that included adopting some girl with a tragic past when she and amity were in high school. also a younger sister please and thank you… / COUSINS would be amazing, especially from her mom’s side!! her mom grew up in the trailer park so any connections there could be fun!

daisy wilkes 19 / receptionist / face tbd

[ content warning for mentions of death ] the almost baby, spoiled rotten / sink your teeth in, she dares you, with a cheshire grin / never fails to push at the cages binding her / transformative, her personality of the moment dependent on those around her / for her father, she dons the guise of a doe-eyed innocent / for the girls in the death brigade, a girl willing to do anything to find the truth / alternatively inciting chaos or distracting from it with a cheeky joke / everything’s overrated except secrets and chocolate / haunted by her dead sisters’ ghosts / taking a “gap year” before college / dealing with her trauma, the rumors suggest, but “dealing with” is much too high a bar / using her position as receptionist at the sheriff’s station to help discover the identity of the angel of death / never thinks further than one step into the future / fancies herself impenetrable, pretending not to see her own darkness seeping through the cracks needs » the rest of the wilkes girls / the remaining members of the death brigade, inspired by now and then, who grew obsessive with a mystery in their youth and are now trying to find the angel of death following goldie’s murder / boys for her to flirt with but refuse to f*ck

lemon eisley 20 / volunteer & pageant girl / elle fanning

[ content warning for mentions of suicide ] a marionette tripping on her own strings, never realizing they’ve curled around her neck until it’s too late / she’s a pageant girl, a social butterfly, a beauty with brains enough to know she doesn’t need them for what she wants in life / which is destined (in her own opinion) to get by on her looks, perhaps become a trophy wife and life in the lap of luxury / is that really too much to ask? no / volunteers at the local historical society so she’s not considered a useless layabout, but mainly only welcomes guests and keeps everything looking orderly / determined to win the miss seven devils pageant even if it kills her (or someone else) / (it wouldn’t be the first time) / a prank gone horribly wrong led to one of her friends committing suicide in front of her eyes, but that’s what pills and ignoring trauma is for ! needs » the rest of olive’s amazing until dawn request (she’s the jess!!) / PLEASE give me pageant girls, all the pageant girls!!! especially the ones who’ve been competing against each other since they were kids and probably have been frenemies for so long / ALSO don’t make me write a request but . lemon needs two siblings ALSO named after the fruits their mother craved during pregnancy (i know it’s silly, but haven’t you ever wanted a character named apple???). while lemon and her siblings always thought their parents were disgustingly in love, their mother recently discovered their father’s affair with his secretary but, aside from their father sleeping on the couch and the fights the siblings have heard through locked doors, they aren’t addressing it at all, not even with the kids

mina whelan 24 / waitress / anya taylor-joy

[ content warning for mentions of parental abandonment, teenage pregnancy, death of a parent (stroke) ] a girl of two wishes; the first: to leave. the second: to never come back / one comes true, at the cost of a heart and a reputation; the second she’s forced to discard / grew up filing in line with two siblings who remain equally fatherless with a mother who’s lost her heart to love once, twice, thrice / she swears: i’ll never fall in love / she breaks it; bad luck / falls in love with a boy who’s destined for greatness and so she wrecks it before he can leave her / just after he leaves following graduation, she’s stuck with a pregnancy test in her hand and an immense desire to say fuck him / she has the baby as a fuck you rather than anything else, and mostly doesn’t regret it / hightails it out as soon as she’s earned a diploma, leaving her baby daughter lily with her mother as she tries to find herself / (spoiler alert: she’s still lost) / her mother’s stroke sends her back to seven devils to a family as willing to discard her as she once discarded them / perhaps wishes are only curses waiting to be met needs » two or three half-siblings PLEASE do not make me write this request… their fathers are all unknown (which made their mother the subject of plenty of gossip) so they should all be half-white, but half anything else!! currently also includes britt's girl billie (19)!! / former friends she hung around with in high school who probably were more like frenemies… they can have wine nights and pretend like they don’t spend the rest of the time talking about each other behind their back / i have a diner request coming soon to a theatre near you inspired by the pulp fiction diner (recent renovation that puts all the waitstaff in costumes of 50’s stars) so lmk if you’re interested!

owen wickham 23 / estate sales employee / face tbd

[ content warning for death of a parent (suicide), missing sister ] a cryptid in his own right / originates from that wickham family, you know the one / their sister went missing when they were kids and their father became the prime suspect / he committed suicide soon after, taking away their father and their answers / tends to be seen as: creepy, weird, potentially a vampire? / definitely not, but when him and one of his friends showed up to a towner halloween party with fake blood, the rumor got started / keeps to himself, mainly finds entertainment reading letters to whatever recently deceased persons estate the company he works for has gotten their hands on needs » the rest of his family (reach out to rachel if interested!!) / some fellow outcasts to pal around with

richard “dick” noble 29 / true crime podcaster / joe keery

[ content warning for mentions of death of a parent ] still that boy in that house, swallowed by memories of a life undone / buried himself so deep in his past that he can’t find his way out / grew up too fast [thanks to the trauma!] and then stopped growing entirely / craves the truth, but runs at the first sign of it / the worst elder brother except in a crisis, during which he’s still the worst but at least he shows up? / constantly dons a “polite grimace” unless he likes you [a rare occasion] / talks a lot about the Real World™ for someone who avoids the hell out of it / avoiding his own feelings about living in whitethorn (the site’s version of hill house) again by doing the podcast season on searching for the truth about what happened the night his mother died / a canvas of okay intentions resulting in misery needs » the remaining members of the noble family (inspired by the haunting of hill house) / co-producers of his true crime podcast ghastly / other potential mysteries dick and co. could have investigated on said podcast during seasons one and two (currently starting season four) / various past relationships that inevitably ended when dick would grow waaaay too obsessed with his current case

[fallenfurther]

Werepuppies 4

Washing up and Secret Santa ignored, because werepuppies demanded attention. 

Original post, Part 1, 2 and 3

***

Virgil had been in the lounge playing with the puppies when the call had come in. He'd taken the call from John while his brothers quickly joined him from various parts of the house. His children followed him into the recessed seating area. Vincent fell down the steps onto Sienna, who yapped in response. They played around his feet as John briefed them.

"We have an earthquake in Nepal. Multiple buildings are collapsed."

"Thanks John. I'll launch 1 and ..."

Scott looked at Virgil and Scott’s eyes fell on Dusty, who was tugging on Virgil's trouser leg. Virgil was primed to run to 2's access shoot when he caught Scott's pause. He followed his brother's gaze and felt his shoulders fall. They would need as many people as possible for the rescue, and with Grandma on a supply run it would leave only Brains to look after the dogs, and they weren't Brains responsibility. Virgil fell back into the sofa and petted Vincent. He nodded at Scott.

"Gordon, you'll fly Thunderbird Two with Alan as co-pilot. I'll assess the situation when I get there and send you instructions on where to land."

"FAB!" Gordon and Alan chorused.

"Let me know if you need me down in the elevator Scott. I'll try get as much information as possible and brief you in the air."

"FAB."

Virgil watched as his brothers went on their separate paths toward the waiting Thunderbirds. He sighed. Virgil pushed Dusty away, rolled him onto his back and rubbed his belly, as Sienna licked his other hand. The sudden emptiness of the room struck him.

"Hey bro..."

Virgil looked up to see Gordon standing from the corridor, a sympathetic smile on his face.

"I'll take good care of her."

"I know you will."

Virgil watched Gordon run away towards the fishtank that hid his brother's accessway. Virgil just sat there, the only noise the soft growls from his children. He closed his eyes and lent back as he heard the pool retract. It was followed by the roar of Thunderbird 1's engine. It sent vibrations through the chair and into Virgil and set the puppies barking. Then he heard the familiar roar of Thunderbird 2, his ‘bird. The sound of her engines pulled on his heart. His body ached to feel the vibrations he knew Gordon was now feeling through the pilot’s seat. He looked over his shoulder in time to watch her fly away.

Virgil looked up at where John's projection had been. He knew John would let him listen in if he asked, but Virgil knew it was best he didn't. It was always harder to watch from the sideline. Instead, he stood and took the puppies to his room where all their toys were.

***

Virgil had Sienna in his lap when his Grandmother found him in his room. Dusty and Vincent were having a good game of tug-of-war in front of him. Virgil was lost in thought and startled at her hand on his shoulder. He looked up at the wise woman and returned her smile. His Grandma sat on his desk chair, a package in her hand. Virgil watched as Vincent let go of the tug rope and placed his head in her lap. Sally Tracy stroked the dog's head, though her gaze returned to her grandson.  

"John informed me of the situation. Thankfully the damage isn't as bad as they first thought, so John's still above us."

Virgil nodded but looked down at his daughter, whom he continued to stroke. He still wasn't sure how he felt about missing out. He knew this was going to happen eventually but being left behind like this hurt more than he thought it would.

"It'll get easier, dear."

Virgil looked up at his grandmother again, certain his feelings were written over his face.

"When they are older, and house-trained, you'll be able to leave them for longer and longer periods of time. But to get them to that point you need to put the hard work in now, while they are young."

Virgil sighed. Sally stood up causing Vincent to whine, before kneeling beside Virgil. She wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders and gave him the hug he needed. When she released him, she passed Virgil the parcel which was addressed to him.

“I stopped off at the depot. You said you’d ordered a few things for them, so I thought I’d better see if any of them had arrived. This was all that was there.”

“Thanks Grandma.”

Virgil took the parcel and opened it. Reaching his hand inside, he pulled out three small dog collars, each with a golden circle tag, and three matching leads. Virgil knew they’d grow out of the collars, but he couldn’t help but personalise them. He handed the packaging and leads to his Grandma, who placed it out of reach on the desk. Placing two of the collars on the floor he kept the red one in his hand. He checked out the tag, his heart warmed as his fingers brushed over the engraved name. Virgil undid the buckle and placed his hand under Sienna’s neck. Gently he slipped it around her neck and fastened it. He watched as she shook her neck and tried to work out what the new weight was. Her eyes met his and he stroked her head.

“It’s okay, Sienna. You’ll get used to it.”

Sienna got off his lap and shook herself out. Virgil picked up the next collar, a green one, and unfastened it. He gazed down at Vincent, who had rested his head back on Sally’s lap and was getting a good head scratch from his Grandma. Virgil slipped the collar round his son’s neck. Vincent shook his neck and grumbled. Virgil watched as he pawed at the leather band, while Sienna came over and sniffed it. Virgil grabbed the dog’s paw in one hand and ruffled his head with the other. Vincent whimpered as he thought to scratch his neck, but Virgil persisted. Virgil let his son work out that he was not to paw his neck, before he set his sights on Dusty.

 Dusty was still playing with the rope, shaking it and growling from time to time, completely unaware of what was happening around him. Virgil decided to use this to his advantage. Deft fingers picked up the last yellow collar, undid the clasp and swiftly put it on the puppy. Dusty reacted instantly with a yap and started to rub at his neck. Predicting Dusty’s reaction, Virgil grabbed the rope and waved it in front of the dog’s face. His son reacted immediately, his jaws clamped round the coloured strands and pulled with a growl. Dusty’s eyes locked on Virgil’s and Virgil could swear he could see the dog challenging him.

“How about later we try putting them on the leads and showing them the area round the pool?”

Virgil peered over his shoulder at his Grandma and grinned.

“That depends on how tired Alan and Scott are. I’m pretty sure it’ll need to be one human per dog. I’d rather not have to control two excited puppies, especially if one of them is Dusty. I have a feeling one of them will end up in the pool if I did.”

Virgil glanced down at the sandy dog who was still trying to pull the rope from his hand, without much success. This one was definitely going end up in the pool at some point.