#from cringe i came and to cringe i shall return

[globalrebrand]

An Unexpected Evening

Warnings: Capitano x Reader, not sfw, mutual masturbation, slight coercion

A/N: A piece posted from my Ao3, a gift for @gojoidyll for their stubborn hearts series. Posted here after a request.

It had nearly been a month since your impromptu arranged marriage to Capitano. The first of the Lord Harbingers. He was a notoriously aloof and enigmatic figure, and thus far, married life had been far from standard. Not that it bothered you per se. You both agreed to have minimal expectations of one another. However, you weren’t entirely used to your independence being hampered by the proximity that marriage brought. You two now shared a home, a bed, and the occasional bath, and while you didn’t mind, sharing these important spaces made it difficult for you to have much-needed “me time,” especially in light of the fact you and your husband had yet to be intimate. 

It is late, and Capitano is in his office. You’d spent much of the afternoon helping to archive some older documents at his request, and while you were happy to help, you hadn’t been able to be very far from him since his return home last week. He’d often request your company for all manner of tasks and activities. It was evidence that your marriage was going far better than expected, considering it seemed that Capitano really enjoyed your presence or was putting in effort to acclimate to you, but all of this attention is also what has you feeling rather frustrated as of late. 

“Um, my lord. Is it alright if we sleep in separate quarters tonight?” It had taken you all night to gather the courage to make such a request, but you were pent up and desperate for release. 

“Why? Are you unwell?” Capitano's brows furrowed with concern as his hand came to his favorite perch on your chin, tilting your face this way and that as an impromptu medical examination. Gently, you gripped his wrist and pressed forward with your gambit. 

“No, I would. I just like a bit of alone time, just for this evening.”

Your husband's lips pursed. It was clear this was not an acceptable solution to him, so you offered a compromise.  

“I could even come back later in the night if that would be preferable.” 

Capitano's eyes narrowed, before a slight look of epiphany flashed across his features. “Wife, do you intend to touch yourself? 

“What! No, I-” You stuttered, embarrassed he would state things so plainly. Not that it was all too surprising based on what you knew of his character. 

“Do not lie to me. I am your husband, and you needn’t be coy with such matters.” He said sternly. Your eyes snapped to meet his gaze, knowing well that if you didn’t meet his eye, he would simply make you. 

“Yes.” You admitted, shoulders slumping with embarrassment but doing your best not to break eye contact. “I felt it would be rather inconsiderate to do so next to you while you slept.” That and you usually kept the light on to read whatever smut novel you liked from your collection. It was quite a challenge balancing a book, flipping pages while stimulating yourself, but you’d gotten the science down to an art. Capitano���s expression relaxes, and you feel a bit of hope that he’ll grant you what you desire. 

“Thank you for your consideration, wife.”

“Of course, I’ll be right back after-” You eagerly assure him, a light smile settling on your lips, but your excitement is interrupted, by your husband's thunderous voice. 

“You get ahead of yourself, wife.” He raises an eyebrow. “I will not permit you to sleep in the other chambers tonight.”

“Oh…alright.” You sigh. Perhaps he would at least allow you to bathe alone…balancing a book in the tub was tricky, but you’d managed before.

“But do not fret. You are permitted to masturbate in our shared quarters.” You cringe at his phrasing but continue on in desperate need of a bit of clarification on the logistics of exactly how you’ll get off…privately, of course. 

“…and where will you be, my lord?” You question.

“I shall be watching.” Capitano attempts to hide his grin as you gasp at his declaration, and the color drains from your face. 

“Oh no, that’s quite alright.” Touching your tender parts in front of your husband was out of the question. Besides a few kisses and bathing with each on the rare occasion he was home, you and Capitano were nowhere close to consummating your marriage as far as you were concerned, but even so, this ask to touch yourself, to bring yourself to completion in front of his steely eyes, felt like an even more intimate prospect than sex.

Capitano catches your flustered expression, eyes darting back and forth as his piercing stare silently demands your attention.

“While I am home, you will take your pleasure with me or not at all.” His countenance is stern. You instantly understand this is an important rule to follow if you want to stay in your husband's good graces. And to a certain point, you understand his perspective. He is seldom home, and to pleasure yourself without him would be cruel, but you had not yet broached actual intimacy…how would you manage such a task!?

“I promise it’s not an event that would be worth watching.” You try to insist. Eyes quietly pleading with him to just allow you to have your privacy. 

“I shall see for myself.” Capitano peered over your shoulder. “Are those your materials?’” He gestured to the book you had held behind you back. 

Your face threatened to burst into flames, but any further protest would likely only upset your husband, with your glance askance you quietly muttered “yes.”

“I can read it for you, so you may use both hands.”

“No, it’s ok!” You urge politely.

“Then you will read it aloud so I may hear what arouses you.” He suggests instead. 

Fuck. This was certainly not the anticipated or desired turn of events. 

The short novella you’d selected was an absolutely debauched tale about a menage-á-trois, where a married couple corrupts a young, innocent maiden who stays weekend at their country estate in Fontaine. Capitano would certainly think that you were a horribly lewd young woman if he heard this. 

“I’ll pick another selection-“ Capitano interrupts you by abruptly rising from his seat. 

“No, we’ve already wasted enough time on this matter tonight.” With that, Capitano grabbed your arm, his burly hand gently tugging you out of his office and up to your bedroom. If you didn’t know any better you would think he was rather eager to watch your toy with yourself—something you’d never done for an audience. 

Should you try to make it good for him? Being deliberately sexy was not something you were familiar with, any perceived sexiness in your past intimate encounters was just consequence of your desperate arousal. 

Ugh…you were regretting not just trying to figure out a workaround in the bath. Maybe if you’d perched your book on the end of the tub between the faucet and spout, you flip the pages with your toes? And just drape one foot over the side so your toes wouldn’t wet the pages? 

But then again, you’d ruled out that idea because Capitano’s tub was made for a man of his size and stature, the end of the tub was nearly a mile from the back rest-

“Wife. Make yourself comfortable.” Your husband drops your hand as he finished guiding you to your shared chambers. The opulent room is on the top floor of his manor, and while the wooden finishes are beautifully dark and glossed and the windows suitably grand and imposing, the furnishing in the room remained rather spare. 

Thanks to you there was now a plush rug, set of twin wardrobes and a perfectly situated  chaise, oriented to look across the dark forest to the nearby bay. Before the bedroom consisted of  just a bed, a rather cruel looking bearskin rug and one side table with every drawer neatly packed with a variety of state documents. But even with your additions in the dim candle light the room felt cavernous. It would take quite a bit more furniture to make things feel homey in your opinion. 

You glanced at Capitano as he pulled his night clothes from his armoire, without missing a beat you moved to do the same, but you struggled with the the back of your corset. Normally a lady would help you undress for bed but Capitano had seemingly been so impatient for this evenings decided course of events that you were now stuck fumbling with the laces on your back. 

You let out of slight groan as your nail bent crudely as you picked at ribbons, but before you could even register his advance Capitano was at your back. His hands surprisingly deft and focused as he worked you out of the piece of supportive clothing.  

“Thank you. “ You spoke softly but gasped in shock when your husband immediately went to pull you out of your dress and underdress, pulling both layers in one go, leaving you only in your stockings and garters. 

You were too shocked to utter any rebuttal, and it seemed that Capitano interpreted this as consent to strip you entirely.

You felt his course hands glide down your thigh to begin undoing your garter and pulling the stockings down your legs, but his thumb grazed too close to your bare cunt, and you leapt away from the contact. Entirely unprepared for the feeling of his coarse hand against your silky flesh. 

“It’s ok husband I’ll do this part, thank you for your assistance.” With no more than a grunt of  approval Capitano retreated to the bed as you undid your stockings and put them away. You cast a glance over your shoulder only to see your husband reclined on his side of the bed and quickly scanning a fresh stack of documents as he waited for you. Turning back to your wardrobe, you reach for a nightgown, but you are interrupted by your husband’s booming voice.

“You won’t need that until later now come.” He patted your side of the bed.

You hesitated at his command, a bit petrified at the prospect of laying next to Capitano naked, especially when he had the privilege of being clad in silk pants and a matching buttoned top which laid open against the firm planes of his chest and torso, dimly illuminated by lamp light. 

“Okay.” You muttered softly, resigning your yourself to the surprising turn of tonight's events. 

As you climbed into bed, Capitano handed you your book. He must have grabbed it while you were busy undressing. It was already open to the flap with the plot summary. Ugh, archons save you.  You gingerly took the book from him and placed it on you pillow. The poor novella was so accustomed to being used for this nightly ritual that its spine gave absolutely no resistance and fell prone, pages splayed against downy sheets. 

Your nerves were through the roof, so to calm yourself, you decided it would be best just to pretend your husband wasn’t there and that you were alone in your old dark bedroom in the attic, reading by candlelight. 

Your favorite position was a bit unconventional. Turning over in the bed, you got on all fours before sinking to your forearms and leaning back on your heels. Capitano let out a light groan as he watched you prostrate yourself, his hand slowly stroking against his thigh.

“Begin.” He encourages gruffly. 

Like you’ve done hundreds of times in your dark bedroom, you slide your hand under your body and touch your pussy lightly, letting your fingers slide through your folds to gather slickness. To your absolute surprise. You're completely soaked. Usually, you need to read a bit of the story and thumb yourself over your panties before your fingers are damp enough to glide through your plump lips, but tonight, even the creases of your thighs are slick with the evidence of your arousal. 

With a shaky breath, you begin. You skip to the best bits of the story, hoping you can get yourself to come quickly. 

You finger yourself through the plot, reading aloud all the while. Describing in vivid detail, Monsieur Guillaume Berteau secretly fingers the protagonist, Vivienne, in the bathroom. At the same time, his wife entertains the rest of their party guests, then steals her sopping panties, forcing her to parade around sans culotte for the remainder of the evening. 

But you get really close when, later, the couple seduces Vivienne into the swimming pool, and she shares a kiss with both husband and wife as she relishes being the center of their attention. Then Carmen guides Vivienne to spread her legs and welcome her husband's cock with all the enthusiasm of a baker gleefully spooning a first bite of something sweet into a child’s mouth.

You spare a glance at your husband. Capitano has pushed down his pants, leaving his groin exposed as he strokes himself to your words. Something about his arousal spurs you on, making you feel even hotter, even closer to reaching your peak. The headiness of your husband stimulating himself only inches away while you did the same felt empowering. 

Your cunt aches deliciously as your stroke between your folds even faster. Your awareness of Capitano’s arousal is riling you even more than the contents of the story at this point. You turn to look at your husband, and with just a  few more tight circles on your clit, you feel your whole pussy begin to spasm. You accidentally push the novella onto the floor. It's work done as your hole clenches around nothing as you start to cum, your fingers pressing firmly against your nub, working you through what is likely your strongest orgasm in recent memory. 

Capitano catches your eyes as his hand slides fluidly over his shaft while his thumb occasionally teases the head. His cheeks are flushed with pleasure, but his eyes are so frighteningly intense that your natural instinct is to turn away from his predatory gaze. Faintly, you hear him scoff, but your mind and body are too far gone to register what that could even mean. 

You shudder as you come, hips dropping, twitching, and grinding against the quilt of your bed to elongate your pleasure. With a few heaving breaths, you struggle to collect yourself. Eventually, you turn back to face Capitano, only to find him scowling. 

And still hard. 

“Turn over.” He instructs, not quite waiting for you to move of your own accord and flipping your hips. 

You spook slightly as he positions you on your back and spreads your legs. 

Is he going to fuck you!? The thought doesn’t scare you as much as it should, but this definitely wouldn’t be an ideal scenario for you to finally make love to your husband. 

By way of protest, you offer, “Should I get the bo-”

“No.” He cuts you off immediately. 

Capitano hooks your legs over him as he kneels in front of you, his thick thighs keeping your legs parted. 

You tense as he takes his member in hand and begins to stroke himself again. His eyes first trained on your cunt. He groans at the sight, and his other hand steadies itself on your thigh. 

“May I touch you?” He asks, only slightly breathless. 

Silently, you nod, and Capitano takes the invitation to slide his hand higher. He pushes aside the curtains of your hair that have fallen over your breast and takes a soft mound in hand, grasping it with surprising tenderness and swiping his thumb firmly over your stiff nipple. You whimper at his ministrations, and his eyes snap your face. His hand quickly follows his stare as he brings his rough palm to your cheek, not waiting for permission, and presses his thumb between your plush lips. Capitano licks part his lips to offer a command, but you’re already sucking on his thick digit before he can instruct you. 

Your husband hisses and tosses his head back. You take the cue glance down to his member just in time to see the firm planes of his abdomen contract, and with a few more tugs of shaft thick white seed starts to spurt out. Then it is your turn to cry out at the contact of the hot liquid splashing onto your clit and dribbling down between your swollen folds. 

Capitano’s eyes return to your body, his steely orbs now pinned to where his spend clings to your cunt lips. Your frame is tense, but with a few strokes of his strong palm against your side, you begin to relax. 

“Good girl.” he praises as he begins to lower himself over your body. You reach a hand between the two of you and gather some of the semen coating your pussy on your fingers. 

Without thinking, you bring a hand to your mouth and tentatively suck his seed from your digits, tasting the viscous fluid like an adolescent sipping wine for the first time, which was essentially what you were. You didn't hate it as you thought you would, your eyebrows raise as if to say 'not bad.'

“Who taught you such a whorish trick?” He growls, grabbing your wrist. A slight look of awe mixed with a flare of righteous anger.

“I um, just wanted to taste you. I was curious.” You mumble shyly. Honestly. This was the most intimate contact you've had with a man and every physical sensation became new grounds for exploration.  

Capitano glares at you skeptically for a moment before pulling you up into a kiss, far deeper than any you’d shared up to that point. His tongue seeks yours eagerly, his lips surprisingly plush against yours. When you part, he gingerly lays you down and settles atop you, pressing you into the mattress. He lets out an aching sigh into the crux of your shoulder. 

“Beautiful.” He decides.

And your heart races.

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader Awkward After

Synopsis: Facing the embarrassing consequence after your foolish action toward your knight. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Reader coming some realizations, ¿infatuation?, Aemond Concerned, Slight Jealousy PREVIOUS PART / NEXT PART

The following day was a tad awkward after you had unintentionally invaded the personal space of your sworn protector the night before. You did not mean to do such actions! But you had grown quite comfortable in his presence that propriety and simple manners had left your head. You stirred and stayed awake that night, blushing and cringing at your own actions. Your mind replayed the shocked look on Ser Aemond’s face and, dare you say, the ghost of a blush that crept on his cheeks as you did such actions. Your fingertips could still feel his skin, and you blushed further at the thought. 

“I’ll—I’ll take my meal here, Ser Adam; please tell my squire.” You called by the other side of the door as you heard the cling of his metal armor. Aemond furrowed his brows as you had addressed the newly arrived knight instead of him, and the fact that you would be taking your meal in your chambers. As Adam walked off, Aemond knocked upon your door. “Are you well, princess?” He asked in concern that an ailment came to you in the dead of night. “Yes!” You squeaked and felt a blush rise to your cheeks once more. What was this? This reaction was most peculiar and most unwelcomed, you thought. 

Aemond straightened his stance as Adam returned. “Does she often take her meals in her chambers?” The secondary knight questioned. “No,” Aemond replied, tone indifferent. “Hm, perhaps the princess is ill; I shall fetch the maester as well,” Adam announced, but before he could walk off, Aemond took hold of his shoulder, hindering him. “I’ll go. Guard the princess— do not let anyone but her maids, squire, or the royal family inside,” he gritted, and Adam rolled his eyes, “I know perfectly well how to do my job,” he scoffed, but Aemond was already walking towards the maester’s quarters. 

A knock sounded upon your chambers once more, and before you could answer, your door opened and revealed Ser Aemond and the castle’s head maester. “Ser Aemond, Maester Harold, wh—“ You questioned with furrowed brows as you stood. “I’ve come to check up on you, princess,” the Maester explained, and you glanced at your sworn protector, who only stared at you, assessing if you were truly well. “But I’m not ill,” You say, making the Maester frown as well as he turned to your knight. “But Ser Aemond made it out that you are taken with sickness,” He said slowly, and Aemond squared his shoulders as he had practically dragged away the maester from tending to a nobleman who had broken his leg as he fell off his horse. 

“I— I’m quite well, Maester; I apologize for the disturbance. You are dismissed,” You smiled apologetically. As the Maester left, you turned to Ser Aemond. “Wha— why?” You questioned, not even able to look him in the eye as you already felt an unreasonable blush creeping up to your cheeks. “You are having your meal here instead of in the gardens as usual,” Aemond said, stepping forward, trying to catch your gaze. “And you are quite… flushed, your Highness,” He added slowly, watching as you steadied yourself on your armchair and lowered your gaze to the floor. “I’m fine! I just… I want to stay in my chambers,” You reasoned, stepping backward as you scolded yourself that your knight had noticed your blush and your mind conjured up the scene in the hall last night. Aemond frowned, but he nodded, taking one last look at you before stepping out of your chambers and closing the door. You groaned quietly at your foolishness, but you could not help but feel touched by the concern of Ser Aemond. 

You did not leave your chambers the entire day, and Ser Aemond was consumed with confusion as to what had led you to such a state. Even your brother, the prince, had questioned him if there were any events that led you to lock yourself up in your chambers, but nothing of note came to mind. When night came, and Aemond was left alone at his station by your door, he rested his back upon the cool stone and let his hand stray to the spot between his brows where you had left your touch. It was odd, but he could still feel your fingertips against his skin. Aemond sighed as his mind was consumed by you the entire day; he would think that he would not have to think of you when he could not even see you, but it would prove that the thought of you was stronger when his eye could not rest upon your frame. 

“Ser Aemond?” You called quietly as you partly opened your door; Aemond straightened his stance and turned to the gap in your door. “Princess? What has happened?” he questioned, his voice on the verge of worry. “Nothing, I… I was just wondering if I could go to the kitchens,” you said and opened the door fully. “I shall escort you then,” He said, but he frowned as you shook your head. “No, I could go on ahead, alone.” You say and pick up Theodore, who tried to exit through the small gap of the door, growing bored as he has accompanied you in your chambers the entire day. You have tried to avoid your knight, but you realize it is inevitable. 

“No, princess, that is not a possibility,” Aemond said, questioning as to why you tried to be rid of him when you perfectly knew that you must always be escorted and guarded by him. You pursed your lips and nodded. Aemond walked behind you as you ventured towards the kitchen, finding it a bit odd since he was used to walking along side you, letting arms brush with each step you take. 

“Are you certain that you are well, princess?” Aemond’s voice cutting through the silence of the dark hallway. “Yes,” you say quietly, your responses to him short, which was a dead giveaway to Aemond that something was bothering you because you always babbled on. The knight pursed his lips as he followed you to the kitchens, where a kitchen maid had left a platter of berries along with another bowl of coarse sugar and cream by the counter as they had memorized your late-night cravings since you were a little girl. 

Aemond stood by the door as you placed your growing pet cat by the counter, the feline still glaring at Aemond. You leaned your frame upon the wooden structure as your finger dipped at the cream, and Aemond quickly looked away as you popped the digit between your lips. Aemond cleared his throat and looked upon the floor, trying not to memorize the way you licked off the cream from your finger. 

“I apologize,” You suddenly say, unable to stomach the tension between you and Ser Aemond. You toyed with the berries on the platter. “Pardon, princess?” Aemond questioned. “I… I apologize for my actions last night— I had forgotten my bounds, and I apologize for overstepping,” You say quietly, and it took Aemond a moment to understand what you were apologizing for. “Oh,” He said as he realized. “I…” he trailed, his silver tongue unable to find words. “Is that why you hid in your chambers the whole day?” He then questioned, and you felt the familiar blush creep upon your cheeks. You could not respond as your hand gripped tightly the counter. Aemond bit his lip at such revelations. You were embarrassed! And it was quite endearing. “Yes,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 

You waited for your knight’s response, but you only heard a greatly stifled laugh. You turned to Ser Aemond and saw him staring at the floor and his hand in a fist that was raised to his lips to contain his laugh. “Stop laughing!” You whined as you felt your cheeks redden deeper; it was an odd scene you had not seen before. Ser Aemond was amused. “I command you to stop!” You say, feeling a smile twitch on your lips as well as you throw a berry in the direction of your sworn protector. “Ser Aemond!” You called with a stomp of your foot, frustrated that he was laughing at your expense. 

Aemond reigned in his laughter and amusement but could not be rid of the small smile on his lips as he straightened his back. “I—I apologize, princess; I was not laughing at you.” He said, amusement still heavy in his voice. You rolled your eyes as you knew what he uttered was a lie. There was a short moment of silence before you sighed. “So? Do you accept my apology?” You ask sheepishly. Aemond bit his lip, trying to catch your eyes once more, but they were downturned in embarrassment. “There is nothing to apologize for, princess,” He says, and finally then did his eyes meet yours. You smiled and assessed his eye to see if he was being truthful, and that is when you realized how… more comely he was when his face was not adorned by his usual scowl. You licked your lips and gave him a nod. 

Aemond took in a deep breath and tried to make his face return to its usual stoicism, but it was proven to be difficult that night. “Do you want some, Ser Aemond?” You called, and for the first time, your knight did not hesitate to decline your offer. Simply moving to stand next to you as you both enjoyed a late-night helping of cream and berries. 

[sleepisapriviligethatidonthave]

Hello, for the megOP prompt thing, how about tfp Megatronus getting injured in a fight and Orion worrying about him? Lots of hurt/comfort? No pressure tho

You ask and you shall receive!

Orion walked briskly through the labyrinth that was the underbelly of the Pits, ignoring the stares of the other gladiators with practiced ease. He could feel his spark race inside its chamber as the words of the announcer still rang in his audials.

“Spinner and Gunner are closing in on our Champion, Gunner attacks from the side and Megatronus deflects- what’s this? Spinner comes from behind before Megatronus can react and stabs him in the lower back! If he hit the spinal strut, then this could spell the end for the reigning Champion of the Pits!”

He had abandoned his post in the Archives the moment he had heard those words over the grid and hit the road with a screech. At times like this, he cursed the distance between the two city-states.

As he rounded the last corner to Megatronus’ suite, he was met by one of the medics that worked in the Pits.

“How is he?” Orion blurted out before the bot had even registered his presence.

“What? Ah, yes, he’ll live. That sword did not puncture anything vital, so he’ll make a full recovery, granted that he doesn’t do anything stupid.” said the medic tiredly. Orion nodded, muttered his thanks, and ran the final stretch to the door of the habsuite.

He punched in the code and marched into the small berthroom where Megatronus rested. His spark squeezed painfully when his finally saw his lover.

The gladiator was laying on his front on the narrow berth, looking away from the door. A newly welded wound married the usually hidden protoform underneath the back armour. He growled, “I believe that I said not to be disturbed while I’m resting.”

“Not even by me?”

Megatronus immediately shot up at the familiar voice, pushing himself up on his forearms before scowling at the pain that shot through his frame. “Orion,” he choked out, a tad disbelieving, “you’re here.”

“Don’t sound so shocked. Did you really think that I wouldn’t come to you immediately?” he said and came closer to cup his lover’s faceplate in his servos. He looked so tired and dirty.

Megatronus nuzzled into the gentle servos, sighing in contentment. “I suppose I underestimated how much you worry for me.” he closed his optics and allowed his EM field to stretch out and envelop Orion, pulsing gratitude, and love. He frowned when he felt worry and hurt clash in his lover’s field.

He looked at the archivist who was staring at him, optics filled with sadness. “I told you not to fight in those matches.” Orion whispered, his voice shaking, making Megatronus stiffen. This had been a point of tension between the two of them for a while now. He never would have thought that he would frag up so badly as to prove his archivist right. He could only curse his himself for that failure. Megatronus felt his spark squeeze at the sight of those gorgeous blue optics fill with tears.

“Orion-“

“Do not Orion me, I told you that fighting more than you already had to was a bad idea and what did you do? You went ahead and did it anyways! You’ve been running yourself ragged, Megatronus! No amount of shanix is worth this!” Megatronus found himself cringing at the tirade. Orion was right, of course, like he usually was, but he still could not understand why he reacted so. He was no stranger to pain and suffering, what was one more scar in the name of his cause?

“Everything will be fine, my love. I have not sustained permanent damage and that is what matters in the end.” he tried soothing, but it only angered Orion even more, his plating flaring out as he pulled back his servos and threw them in the air.

“Megatronus, do you really think that just because the damage will not have longlasting effects, I will not worry about you? Every time you step into the Pits, I pray that you will return to me unharmed and all I get in return is you, throwing yourself into even more danger!” the gladiator could only stare in bewilderment as his beloved pored his spark out.

“Just because you can handle something, doesn’t mean that I or anyone else that cares about you will worry any less about you. I need you to understand that Megatronus.” Tears had begun to stream down the archivist’s faceplate, his frame shaking as he panted, trying to help his frame cool down.

For once, Megatronus found himself speechless. They stared at each other for a while, only the sound of Orion’s cooling systems breaking the heavy silence.

“I… I had now idea that my decisions were affecting you so much, Orion. I am so sorry beloved, for making you suffer unnecessary pain because of me.”

The archivist snorted and wiped away his tears, “You’re the one in pain, you fool.” he muttered and closed the distance between them, planting a kiss on the gladiator’s forehelm. “I just wish that you would listen to me when I try to talk some sense into you.”

It was Megatronus’ turn to let out a chuckle, only to wince in pain as the newly welded wound made its presence known. “I believe that it would be in my best interest that I start doing so from this moment onward.”

Orion’s rested their forehelms together, making his lover look into his optics, ”Promise?”

“I swear on my spark, beloved.” he said solemnly and took one of Orion’s servos into his own, kissing the back of it.

That seemed to be enough to quell the last of the archivist’s wrath. “Good. Now make me some space on the berth. I didn’t drive all the way here just to stand like a statue.” Megatronus let out a loud laugh, uncaring of the pain it caused him and pushed himself up some more, allowing Orion to lay beneath him.

Megatronus purred and laid his helm on his beloved’s chassis. Orion smiled and placed one servo on the back of the gladiator’s neck cables while the other one busied itself with petting the silver helm.

“I know that I do not say it to you nearly enough, but thank you, Orion Pax, for caring for me.”

Orion felt his frame fill with warmth. How could he stay mad at his lover when he was so earnest? “Rest, my Champion. We will talk more later.”

With that Megatronus allowed his frame to finally wind down, knowing that the most important mech in his life was right there, looking after him, protecting him. He fell into recharge, soothed by the feeling of his Orion’s spark, spinning in sync with his own.

I also posted it on AO3 for those interested in checking out my other works ^^

https://archiveofourown.org/works/58680121

[her-devils-advocate]

Memory Lane

pairings: Femshep x Garrus

genre: fluff, comfort

summary: In the early morning hours, Shepard’s mind begins to wander. Is she still the same woman who hunted down Saren? She would like to believe so, but recent actions have made her reconsider. Luckily for Shepard, Garrus is there to comfort her.

Set in the first half of ME2, but before Garrus’ loyalty mission.

word count: 2,662

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58132921

The mission had gone well enough, a simple in-and-out task. One that came with a lot of bullets required. But they had successfully recruited the assassin and gained another ally to help with the impossible, a feat Shepard should be pleased by. Still, nothing had helped to stop the simmering anxiety that had been hounding her since her reawakening. The anxiety had returned to her when they arrived on the Normandy, clawing at her heels and trying to slow her escape to her quarters.

She does her best to weave through the crew members, avoiding their eyes all while strategically using a random datapad as an excuse to not be social. Not that anyone could blame her given the hour.

Throwing open the doors to her cabin, she tosses the datapad onto the desk, not bothering to see where it lands before slowly dragging her aching body to the sofa. If she’s lucky, she might be able to schedule in a small nap before they arrive at Pragia, but Shepard knows by now to not push her luck in that department. The cool leather presses against her bare arms, helping to ground her as she stares up at the ceiling, making an effort to avoid the obnoxious window above her bed.

Her long hair hangs off the side of the couch, brushing past her dangling arms before she finally gets the energy to push herself into an upright position, forgoing her attempt at a nap altogether and instead resting her head in her hands with a barely concealed sigh. 

Her skin feels wrong. Sure, it feels the same as two years ago; the same softness, the same freckle resting just below her left elbow, but now it doesn’t feel like it belongs to her. The uneasiness buzzes under the surface, wanting to tear itself out and be free from its manufactured prison. How can she be so sure she isn’t the puppet they claim she’s not?

The commander of the SR1 was a kind woman, preferring to use her words until she was sure they were no longer an option. She wanted to help as many people as possible, going as far as letting the Batarians escape to secure the hostages' safety back in the Asgard system. The old commander would never aim her gun at someone who hadn’t aimed their first, she would never play with her targets, using cheap taunts for even cheaper satisfaction. She was a kind and proud woman, a woman worthy of the title of “The First Human Spectre”, nothing like the ghost now masquerading as her.

The commander of the SR2 had risen to taunts and replied in kind. She had put her words aside and jumped straight to violence on that damned mission, something she was not proud of and now feels the overwhelming guilt and fear creeping up on her as she reflects. She can no longer run from the fact that Commander Shepard has changed, that she no longer recognises the woman who stares through the mirror at her. 

Before the sob building up at the back of her throat has a chance to escape, a smooth, metallic voice breaks her focus. 

“Commander, Garrus Vakarian is outside your quarters, shall I let him in?”

She takes a moment to compose herself, pushing the fear back down into its designated bottle and hoping that whatever expression she’s contorted her features into doesn’t give her away.

“Go ahead, EDI.” She replies, her voice lacking its usual warmth. 

She watches the blue node flicker away after giving a simple “affirmative”, interrupted by the gentle swoosh of her doors being opened. She lifts her head to give him a small grin, feeling her muscles relax at the sight of him easily waltzing through her room.

“Hey, Garrus.” She cringes at the small wobble in her voice and she can only hope that she can play it off as exhaustion. Shepard doesn’t miss the way his head tilts once he reaches her, but before she can say anything, he drops down onto the space next to her.

“Hey, Shep.” He keeps his voice casual, yet she has known him long enough to pick up the traits of hesitation and worry clinging to his voice, “So, you were quick to avoid everyone after that last mission, I think you gave Chambers whiplash with how fast you shot past her. Are you okay?”

She turns her head away, letting it hang as a curtain of hair shields her face from his concerned gaze. She debates telling him, letting him into that dark part of the supernova known as Shepard. But right now, she doesn’t want to be The Commander. She wants to talk to her friend.

“Garrus, it might be selfish of me to ask, but I need to know. How did... How do you know that I'm me? Some days I'm not even sure. I don't act the same as I did when we took Saren down, not entirely. It's got me questioning myself.”

She leans back on the couch, rubbing a hand over her forehead as she tries to corral her frayed thoughts into a coherent sentence. She’s thankful for the silence hanging between them as they both approach the delicate subject that has been a long time coming.

“I'm tired and I'm more stressed than back on the SR1 and it's now starting to show, I'm becoming blunter and less tolerant. It's... It's beginning to scare me. I don't feel the same, hell, I don't even look the same now that I'm missing my old scars and gained brand-new, glowing ones. That paired with the fact that I'm starting to act differently, how can I be certain?”

She finally turns to stare up at him, her eyes wide with unconcealed fear and for a second, she worries that she’s said too much. Garrus is silent, his mandibles slowly fluttering with nerves as he takes the time to properly look at his best friend. 

He would be blind to not notice the changes in her, both physical and mental. Humans can be resilient despite their squishiness, he will give them that. But no human has managed to perfectly heal a decades-old scar, let alone two of them. The new scars Cerberus had left her with stand out more than the lack of eyebrow and lip scarring, given the way they ominously flicker against her smooth flesh. The raw, unnatural cracks in her skin only skimmed the surface of the cracks her death had left her with on the inside.

He can’t deny that he was concerned to see her almost push a man out of a window, not after all she had taught him before her untimely departure from the galaxy, but he also can’t deny the fact of who she still is. It’s not like he hasn’t changed, possibly for the worse depending on who you ask, in those years either.

He gives her a small shrug, flicking a mandible out in the turian equivalent of a smirk as he throws his arm across the back of her sofa, leaning closer to her.

“I knew from the moment I first saw you, Shepard. Cliché, I know, but come on, who else would be crazy enough to run across a manufactured death trap, not to mention towards the sniper hellbent on killing everyone around them?”

A small chuckle breaks past her lips and she is quick to try and cover it with her hand, her nerves being settled with each passing moment. Garrus simply watches her for a moment before clearing his throat and trying to put on a more serious front. It would have worked, but she knew him too well to see the growing amusement in his eyes. 

“But if you really do need convincing, then I guess it's come to this. We're doing it.” His low voice drawls out as he finishes it with a single, firm nod.

“Doing what?” She asks, suspicion rising in her voice.

“What's one shared memory that only you, the real Commander Shepard, would know?”

Shepard gives Garrus an unimpressed look, doing her best to push down the giddy, juvenile excitement before taking a moment to think. Her lips stretch into a gentle smile as she gets lost in the memory. 

Everyone was so different back then, she realises, not just herself.

“Noveria. It was shortly after we helped take Anoleis down, but before we reached Peak 15.”

Garrus interrupts her with a loud groan, running a single hand over his fringe. She happily continues, purposefully ignoring his dramatics. He did ask, after all.

“We had to park the Mako for a moment while you repaired one of the wheels that had been damaged by the Geth. Liara had opted to remain inside the Mako, not wanting to leave her spot near its heater. You were so focused on the task at hand and completely unaware of your surroundings.” 

She pauses momentarily, trying to stifle her giggles as best as she can as she feels her eyes beginning to water from the effort. Garrus rolls his eyes, trying to look annoyed despite the fondness squeezing his heart. He loves it whenever she lets herself laugh, the sound simultaneously foreign yet familiar to him.

“You were a little bit too focused and didn't realise what I was up to until it was too late. Before you knew it, you were bumped on the head with an impressively large snowball.”

Garrus shivers from the memory before rising to her bait, his words coming out as dry as possible. “Bumped is putting it lightly, I still don't believe you when you say you didn't use any biotics to help you with that throw.”

“I didn't, I swear!” She throws her hands up in mock surrender as he narrows his eyes at her, watching as a small smirk begins to appear on her lips. “But... I guess it is true that only the real Commander Shepard would know how loud your yelp was. Seriously Garrus, I was concerned we would trigger an avalanche.”

“I believe I did warn you that Turians aren't exactly fans of the cold weather,” Garrus replies, coolly.

“How could I forget? You made sure to repeatedly remind me after that. It was worth it though, I wasn't aware that your voice could even hit that pitch.” Her words are light, unrestrained glee flowing free as she shuffles even closer to him.

Garrus scoffs, finding the fish swimming around the comically large fish tank more interesting. He would never let her know that he surprised himself that day, equally unaware his voice could go that high. He also keeps the way her maniacal cackling instantly warmed the chill caused by the snow a secret. One he’s more than prepared to take to his grave.

“Ha. Ha. You know, I do believe that you have an equally embarrassing story from Noveria. Before Anoleis, when we were still trying to get into that garage.” 

It’s now her turn to groan, bringing her knees up to her chest and burying her face against them to hide the harsh crimson that begins to take over her cheeks. She tries to silence him, moving to place a slender hand over his mouth, but he’s faster and stronger and can grab both of her wrists with ease before continuing with his recollection.

“It was shortly after we spoke to Lorik Qui'in in the Mezzanine. We had left to go grab the data from his office and on the way back, you managed to fall down the stairs.” He doesn’t bother to stop the smirk from leaking into his voice, proud at the reaction he’s drawn from her.

Shepard remembers this day well, even if she wishes she didn’t. She was younger, technically speaking, and full of fake confidence as more and more bullshit got thrown her way. She wanted to appear more put together than she felt, especially in front of her new crew which happened to be full of aliens who had very little human interaction before her. 

She had always loved the cold, especially the snow, feeling more calm whenever snowflakes descended from the sky. Noveria was like heaven to her, even if the rest of her crew made their displeasure known. During the small lull in urgency, she had let her guard down for a mere second, wanting a moment to appreciate the raging storm outside. If only she hadn’t decided to do so while walking down the stupidly steep stairs.

The horrible clacking of her armour against the polished stone stairs rang loudly through the building and brought all eyes to the figure sitting awkwardly at the bottom. The way Garrus gave a loud huff of laughter, once it was shown she was alright, at least, still echoes in the back of her mind. If that’s what it took to lure it out from him, she would take the bruised ego and flesh.

“Okay, big guy, "fall" is a bit dramatic. I might have slipped and skidded down the last 4 steps on my arse, which was an easy mistake to make! My boots were still slippery from the snow!” Commander Shepard doesn’t pout, she’s too old to stoop to such levels and she definitely didn’t have a hint of one in her voice.

Garrus simply chuckles, nodding along and letting her have her excuse, no matter how flimsy it is. They sit in silence for a moment, simply existing in the gentle mirth. A moment where the two of them don’t need to put on a mask or hide behind a title.

It had been too long since Garrus was able to simply sit beside his friend, he had honestly thought he would never get the chance to do so again, not after Liara broke the news of her death to him. But if he has learnt anything from having her back, it’s to not doubt the lengths Shepard will go to just to do the impossible. If anything, he shouldn’t be surprised by her cheating death itself.

A small voice breaks the silence and draws him out of his thoughts. He registers it as Shepard’s, yet he has never heard her voice sound so gentle before.

“Thank you, Garrus. Thank you for helping me up. All those times back then and all the ones that I'm sure will happen in the future. But more importantly, thank you for this, for helping me feel like myself again. For convincing me that I am who I’m supposed to be.”

The fragility of it shakes him and the vulnerability that shines in her eyes shoots through to his heart. The sound lures out emotions that he had tried to force down and they begin to bubble with a renowned strength. Without thinking, he moves to tenderly tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear, momentarily fascinated by how silky it felt against his finger. Her eyes widen at the action for a second before she turns to give him a shy smile.

“You're welcome, Shepard. I've got your back, then and now. No one can blame you for acting differently under the circumstances, and there are a lot of circumstances to consider. Cerberus, a new crew, being brought back only to be thrown towards a suicide mission... Not to mention the fact that the people you once gave everything to help are now acting differently around you. I would be even more concerned for you if you weren't showing signs of stress.”

She huffs out a humourless laugh, nodding along with his words, she then shocks the both of them when she lifts her hand to carefully rest it on his knee. “I’m lucky to have you, Garrus.”

One day she might know just how backwards she’s got it and that he is the lucky one. One day he might be brave enough to tell her if she doesn’t get the courage first.

[emperor-palpaminty]

HEY MINTY i saw you have added call of duty to your list of writings???? can i please request Ghost and "secret kiss" with a female reader??? <3

Ayeeeee Ghost my bbgorl! I got another Ghost with "You don't understand, I would do anything to protect you" so I will mush em together! I also saw one fic have ghost call the reader "sweetness" and it's my new fav so guess you're sweetness now

TW for typical war talk and discussions of war-related violence, cursing, and kissing (smoochie smoochie)

Reblogs and comments are appreciated and preferred.

In the most briefest of words, and in perhaps the least eloquent phrasing, war sucked ass. You cringed as you hobbled across the hallway, your leg still sore. The stitches still stung and, honestly, you should have been resting- but war brought no rest.

You paused long enough to lean on the wall and gingerly pressed a hand to your thigh. The pain meds were really wearing off, and, sadly, you were still a distance away from your bunk. You hummed to yourself, closing your eyes and inhaling to fight off the pain from the still healing cut.

Something in the air moved, shifted. You closed your eyes tighter and tried to ignore the presence, perhaps praying that he would just ignore you.

"Supposed to be on rest, sweetness." The source of the scolding was gruff and dry, only laced with concern.

A chuckle left your lips and you opened your eyes, looking over at Ghost. His arms were crossed and, even with the glaring skull mask, you could tell that the eyes under it were far angrier. "Past your bedtime too, LT."

Somehow, his gaze narrowed more. Dim sparks flew from his eyes. "Not what I fuckin' meant."

Sighing, your head rolled back. There was a moment of deliberation in your head- if you stayed, and argued, you would lose and be forced back into confinement. If you agreed, you would also go back to bedrest. It was, really, a lose-lose situation. A strangled groan left your throat. It was back to the four walls and the thin cot, the painkillers and the thick blanket of boredom. "Fine. I shall return to my suite, LT."

You turned to leave, hiding the wince with a chuckle (and a pitiful one at that). Reluctant weight found it's way to your injured leg and you stifled a groan again, quickly shifting weight to your other leg, desperate to move.

"That injury bad?"

You stiffened, but took a slower step away. "Nope."

Pause. "You sure?"

"Yep." Now, that came out more like a groan than anything else. You managed a couple more steps, cursing the pain medications, the guy who cut you, and your apartment lack of skills in hand to hand combat. "Mental note: I need you to train me more in close combat."

"Not really a mental note if you say it out lout, sweetness."

You aimed your glare straight ahead- Ghosts's large form was next to you, keeping a languid pace, watching you move. "Thanks, Ghost. You're a real pal."

Ghost leaned down, only slightly, voice dropping. "More than a pal, though."

Your gaze narrowed as you looked up at him. An argument began to surface in your mouth, but then he bent down, grabbing you and hoisting you into the air bridal style. "LT!" You yelped, arms flying around his neck. You felt a chuckle in his thick throat as he walked, paces long and confident. "Put me down."

"Nah."

Your wound ached, but less than it had with your weight on it. "Simon Riley. Put me down this instant."

"Negative, Sweetness." Ghost walked calmly, not swayed by your protests, you smacking his shoulder, or your curses. "Can't have you walking on a bad leg."

"Why not?"

His gaze flickered to you, burning. "You know well why."

"In public?" You hissed. The hairs on the back of your neck bristled as he gave a low rumble that resembled a laugh. "Bold today, aren't we." Ghost ducked under the door, shutting it and setting you on the ground. The hand on your back pressed you in, and his free hand moved up and shoved up his mask far enough to reveal the blonde stubble and a set of gritted teeth.

More alone now, Ghost grabbed your face and pulled you in. His chapped mouth landed on yours, your sigh rounding with a soft hum. Your fingers dug into his vest, tightening in the material. He pressed away, exhaling, and you saw his eyes were closed as he leaned his forehead against you. Simon gave a deep breath, mouth parting, and words no longer muffled.

"Fucked me up when I heard you yell out there." Gloved thumbs traced the round of your cheeks, tone uncharacteristically soft.

You pulled back from him and attempted a chuckle, the situation suffocatingly heavy. "Handled it well, though. Got to my handgun quick enough."

Simon's eyes moved from your mouth to your own eyes, meeting them, holding his gaze steady. He commanded attention, and you were certainly no exception. "I should have been closer." Simon tilted his head, gently leaning your chin up with a finger. "You don't understand, sweetness. I would do anything to protect you. Fucker's lucky you killed him before I got there- would have lost his fingers."

You blinked up at him. Ghost was brutal. Blunt. But sometimes, Simon had slightly rounded edges- not soft, but just more gentle. No less threatening to people who hurt his team mates, especially you. "Doesn't mean you failed, you know." Your lips pulled into a frown. "I hope you don't think that."

Simon's own lips twitched into a very slight smile, tugging you in. "Go rest, Sweetness." He pecked you again, then turned away. "I'll come check in on you after tonight. If I find you out of bed and up again, I'll tell Price."

"Oh no." You said, tone short as you sunk onto your cot. You raised your hands, shaking them theatrically. "Whatever shall I do. Do not tell Price. I am so scared."

His eyes flashed at you again. "You'll get put on mess duty, once that leg is better, then."

You suppressed a smile and eased back, stretching your leg out. "Understood, LT."

"Soon as you get better, I'll give you a proper punishment then." Ghost tugged his mask down, but you swore that you managed to catch a smile as he concealed his face and left you alone to recover and rest.

[glitcheslikeslego]

Show Me Your Moves! (Chapter 14)

AO3 STORY

WE'RE ALL CAUGHT UP WITH THE AO3 STORY! From this point on in the story, the chapters will be uploaded on here and AO3 on the same days :)

Chapter 14 : Return

Return deals damage and has no secondary effects. It has more power the more friendship the user has.

The Calabash.

Oh how you worried for MK’s mental state.

The thought of Mei ‘confessing’ to MK made you cringe.

When Sandy called you earlier, panicking that MK was missing, you tried to calm him down and explain that MK was most likely okay, but that didn’t help very much.

Instead of opening up shop like normal, Sandy decided to take the day off with his therapy cats and you went to Pigsy’s restaurant for the first time. Upon your arrival, Mei threw herself into you. “You’re okay!”

“Yeah, I’m fine? What happened? I heard MK went missing.”

“He just went on a delivery and never came back! We don’t know the specifics.” Tang explained as Pigsy was grumbling at his counter.

“I’m sure he’s fine. MK is super OP, right? He’ll be fine.” You comforted Mei by patting her head. 

Mei’s muffled “I guess…” Barely reached your ears, and she just shoved her face in your shoulder as she sulked.

Despite Pigsy being obviously irritated that MK hasn’t returned, he still looked really worried and stressed, same with Tang, who’s been chewing the same noodles for longer than he normally would.

You patted Mei on the head and pushed her off yourself and approached Pigsy. “Hey, I said MK would be okay, you just need to trust in him.”

You could hear a quiet voice in the back of your head shout out “hypocrite!” at you. Pigsy sighed. “Ugh I know, but seeing these orders stack up and him not answering my calls still worries me.”

You contemplated for a moment before taking the food into your arms. “I can do it.” You offered. They all looked at you in surprise, and Pigsy thought it over carefully.

“It can give me a good chance to try and look for MK too!” You added, and with that, Pigsy immediately agreed to it.

Mei, with the proposition that you could deliver things for Pigsy and keep a lookout for MK, immediately agreed to drive you around on her motorbike to help you. You spent the next few hours looking for the successor, but to no avail.

And while that was a total flop, it wasn’t all bad, as you ended up coming face to face with an orange cat, and was rescued by the little girl who owned it as her mother thanked you for the delivery.

You felt a cool dread in your gut.

Mei continued driving you around the entire city, even after you were all finished to look for MK, but he still hasn’t come up yet.

Just how long is he stuck in there for?

You and Mei return to Pigsy’s MK-less, both of you being tired from all the driving around, and Mei was sulking even more.

Pigsy and Tang looked at you questioningly, only to deflate again when you shook your head no. 

“I don’t get it. Where is that kid?” Pigsy growled in frustration. 

And speak of the devil and he shall appear. 

Or in this case, the Monkie man. 

In the entrance to Pigsy’s was MK, still slightly frazzled from the Calabash and holding his staff in his hands. 

“MK!” You and Mei exclaim in relief, and Pigsy storms up to him. 

“Where have you been!? You’re lucky those two volunteered to pull your weight for you!” And while he didn’t say it, you could tell Pigsy was relieved that MK was okay. 

And on cue, MK started crying in happiness that Pigsy was normal and not the fake one. 

You decided to tune him out a bit, just glad that everyone isn’t stressed that he was missing anymore. 

And you were startled when everyone began yelling at him. Mainly startled because Mei had screamed loud and it hurt. 

You snapped your lego claw the best you could next to where your ear would be and when you confirmed you still had your hearing, you approached MK and gave him a side hug. “I knew you’d be okay. What happened anyway?”

He shuddered. “Something that I don’t want happening ever again.” 

You nodded as the three continued yelling at MK and decided to be one with the moment, not ready to make another moment like this sour with your cynical thoughts of what’s to come in the near future. 

5 episodes done, 5 more to go…

… dammit brain. 

~~~

<PREV ~ NEXT>

[blackroseguzzi]

Please continue the FATE series with Colin Zabel

pls pls pls 😭

FATE:

PART 5

SUMMERY: You first night as an informant for Mare. After spending time with Colin he finally decides he deserves the answers you never gave him.

Colin brought back two bottles of beer from the kitchen, and handed one to me with a small polite smile. He still drank miller Lite- I internally cringed at the memory of how he used to drink them all night up at the lake house. He would get super sappy after 3 or 4 and beg me to slow dance with him to music playing over the old record player that came with the place. Because of those memories, you constantly had to change the station any time ‘Love me tender’ by Elvis came on. 

“Shall we dive in?” He asked, pulling me out of my head.

“Let’s,” I nodded back, thanking him for the beverage. 

The two of us worked in the living room. I took of my jacket, trying to see if the heat boiling from my body was from my layers or from Colin’s mother’s glare from the dining room. She had made herself comfortable watching us as she pretended to read the paper. 

We were professional, not breaking character of our respected roles as we worked, Sargent Sheehan had given me a load of information to slip into Colin's ear and in return I was given the task to relay whatever he gives me back to her.

I couldn’t help but stare at his hands as they grabbed pieces of paper from the files on the coffee table. Those hands had explored my body like a road map. They were gentle and strong all at the same time. Colin knew just about every place I liked to be touched, and he had always handled me like he needed all of me desperately, yet so careful not to be too hard as to break me.

I felt a lump forming in my throat. I had never realized what I was going to miss until it was no longer mine. I chased happiness, but I soon realized it wasn’t real because I had nobody to share it with. Yes, I loved my career but at the expense of what I lost it sometimes felt silly to lie to myself that it was worth it.

“Well, I think we can wrap this up tonight “y/n.”

My eyes snapped up to match Colin’s glare, pulling me from those depressive thoughts that seem to always be haunting me. 

“Yeah I ah, I think you have a good start on things, thank you for giving me more to write about,” I smiled as I got up from the couch I had sat on so many times before. 

The familiarity of Judy’s home was both comforting and chilling. Judy was a picture perfect mother in law- and I was forever going to be jealous of the girl that got to bake pies with her in the kitchen, go along with her shopping at Bloomingdale’s for sales, and who Judy would show those sweet baby pictures of Colin when he was a little boy- both of them imagining what their future children would look like. 

As I stood, my eyes wandered to Judy who had a small smile on her face. She waved politely before returning back to her papers. She was probably pleased to see me leave.

Colin cleaned his throat after picking up all the scattered papers on the table. “I’ll walk you out?” 

I turned to him and nodded shyly, a flash of pink had to have brushed my cheeks. I had become a stranger in a home that felt like my own at one point in time. 

The cold night air felt nice on my skin after they had burned while being in the Zabel home. My feet felt like they were dragging as we walked quietly to my car parked out front. 

I turned, ready to say my goodbyes, but Colin’s hand shot up to stop me. 

“Please spare me, y/n. Please don’t say goodnight and leave like you don’t have that brutal feeling in your gut like I do.” 

I could feel my face fall as the act of acting ‘normal’ finally crumbled inside of me. 

“It’s like… like I swallowed a shit ton of rocks from lunch,” I replied quietly, digging my hands in my pockets as a small gust of wind whipped by us. 

“I can’t have you showing up at my mom’s, y/n.” 

I sighed, looking down at our feet. He had on casual shoes as opposed to his shiny work ones. They looked like the Nike’s I had gifted him our last Christmas together- the same day he gave me a ring I gave him a pair of shoes. In retrospect, I was the one who could have used the running shoes when I bolted from our engagement. 

“I’m so sorry, I thought we could just….” I failed to find words that would accurately match my feelings. 

“What? You thought we could pretend that you didn’t tell me you didn’t love me two weeks before you became my WIFE?” Colin cringed as he dragged out that word. 

I felt the tear roll down my cheek before I knew that I was crying. He was right, we couldn’t pretend that I didn’t do such a horrible thing. I was learning that I had not done him the favor I thought I did. 

“I had to leave Colin, and I'm forever going to regret how I did it.”

His eyes locked mine and I watched him bite the inside of his lip like he does when he was in deep thought. 

“I need to know why you didn’t  just have me come with you?” His words finally came out as a whisper, but resinated deep in my soul like he was screaming at me. 

I wiped another stray tear from my eye to fix my blurry vision. 

“You are the kindest man in the world, Colin Zabel. You would have come with me just to make me happy. I know you love your job and you wanted to stay and live close to your mom and our families for the rest of forever. I knew you would go with me even if you wanted to stay. I couldn’t ask you to do that after everything you ever did for me, but I needed that job. Writing is the therapy I never knew I always needed. You would have supported me at the cost of your own happiness and I didn’t want that resentment between us.”

“You’re projecting.” He stated flatly as he shook his head at me. I scrunched my face in confused. 

“You were the one who had resentment. YOU felt like you put me first and took that shitty writing gig and YOU didn’t like it. I would have compromised on just about anything if It would mean I came home at night to you. Nothing, not even my job, or my family, made me happier than coming home to YOU. So you were right, I would have gone wherever you wanted me to because you were it for me. If moving, getting a new job and not seeing family as often meant I would still have you then I would have dropped everything and packed my bags happily!” 

I stood there silently, every word hitting me to the core. I had never intended for him to blame himself, I had hoped it would wash away any feelings for me so he could start fresh with someone else who was content in every aspect of their lives. 

He ran his hands down his face and I wanted so badly to open my mouth to say anything but nothing I could say would make the pit in my stomach go away. 

“I guess… I just…” he drew in a deep breath before our eyes locked again. They were glassy, like tears would soon burst from the floodgates. “I always wanted to know what I did wrong... I just didn’t realize it was because I clearly didn’t show you how much I loved you.” 

The sob came from my throat and took me by surprise. Then the tears ran freely off my cheek and onto the pavement between us. Nothing would ever fill the hole that was open in my heart, I knew that for certain now. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” I felt Colin step closer to me, and looking up I wasn’t expecting to be pushed into his chest while he hugged me. He was actually hugging me. 

“I don’t deserve that,” I replied, lightly pushing him away. He didn’t need to be hugging me during this epic meltdown. “I hurt you- you shouldn’t be comforting me.” I sniffed, wiping my nose with the back of my jacket sleeve. 

“I didn’t want to make you cry, y/n,” His words were gentle- and your gut felt punched again. 

“It’s fine.” I let out a slow breath before trying to compose myself. “I deserve it after everything- Fuck, I didn’t even say goodbye when I left….” I scoffed, now trying to avoid eye contact as words tumbled from my mouth. “I think not saying it gave me hope that our book wasn’t closed, that maybe our story was still unfinished.” I spoke softly, and the tenseness that hung on Colin’s shoulders began to lift. 

Colin stared down at me, his hand slipping from my shoulder. I was already regretting pushing away from that hug because his touch was so warm. 

Moments between us felt like a lifetime as the night air became more brisk, and I could hear cars on the busier road that was a street over. 

“I’m so sorry Colin, I'm just going to go back home early, I think I’m doing more damage than good being here.”  I went for my keys in my purse but Colin grabbed my arm, stopping me.

He cleared his throat, and I watched the wheels in his head turning. 

“No, Erin should get the coverage she deserves. Nobody would write her justice as well as you.” I could see the small curl of his lip and I suddenly felt the heat creep up my cheeks.

“Thank you, Colin. But don’t want to”- 

“You think tomorrow I can take you up on that dinner invite from this mornin?” Colin’s words cut mine like a knife. I felt my eyebrows raise as I tried to process what he had said to me. sliding his hand from my shoulder and rubbing the back of his neck, I could tell he was nervously waiting for my reply.  I blinked a few times, my eyes drying from all the tears that had come out of me. “For work stuff- you know? Probably better than having my mom watching us like a Russian spy. I swear she read the same page of that paper the whole time we were in there.” He finished. I couldn’t help but laugh a little at his words, and you nodded quickly. Maybe this trip was turning into a plot twist in our story after all. 

“I think that's a good idea, yes.”

“Let’s just try not to open anymore wounds okay?” 

I nodded again before finally reaching into my purse to grab the rental car keys.

“Thank you, Zabel,” I replied quietly, the feeling of my tail between my legs would probably linger there for a while. 

He opened his mouth, closed it and nodded. “See you later, y/l/n,” he gave one last small waved before turned around to walk slowly back up to his childhood home. I fumbled with my keys before walking to the driver’s side to get him. My phone started vibrating in my pocket as soon as I started my vehicle. I fumbled around my pockets before grabbing ahold of the buzzing piece of technology. 

“Sheehan” scrolled across the screen and you quickly answered it.

I didn’t even get to say hello before her voice filled my ear “Fill me in.” 

Mare was the one helping me get closer to Zabel all while covering this case, but I knew that if he found out I was giving her the information he was presenting to me that his ass was on the line. I just couldn’t stop the urge to be around him, so I let out a sigh before giving her every last detail. 

[p-artsypants]

Paint it Black (19) Defaulting

Ao3 | FF.net

Everyone, Bruce included, had expected Robin to continue to improve after the antidote was administered. No one thought he’d be right back up and ready to go, but they hoped there would be an improvement. 

Instead, there was a sharp decline. 

Within a few days, Robin went from optimistic about his new future, to nearly bedridden and quiet.

“Robin?” Starfire checked on him for the fourth time that day, hoping this time he’d get up and eat dinner with them. 

“Star…” he croaked. 

She sat at his bedside and pet his hair. “Are you the same or worse from earlier today?” 

“Worse,” he cringed. “It’s like my blood is on fire.” 

“I am to ask if you have a headache or weakness.” 

“Yes, both. And nausea. Could you bring me some water?” 

“Absolutely,” she leaned in and kissed his forehead. 

“Sorry, I was looking forward to spending time with you.” 

“Your apologies are not necessary. You are still recovering, and we have plenty of time to catch up.” 

Robin closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. “I suppose you’re right.” 

“I shall return momentarily with your water.” She patted his leg and returned to the common room. 

“So?” Batman asked, immediately. 

“It is as you have said. He appeared to be sweating quite fiercely, though he has several layers of blankets on. And he said he has a headache and muscle weakness, as well as nausea.” 

“I could pretty confidently diagnose him with opioid withdrawal,” Bruce frowned. “It’s not surprising since he’s been taking some everyday for a few months. You can’t quit that crap cold turkey.” 

“Is poultry also addictive?” Starfire asked. 

“It means quitting without weaning off. I can get about a month’s supply of medical fentanyl from some contacts at the local Wayne Tech branch. Robin’s not going to like having to take it, but if we time it right, we should be able to wean him off gradually. Then he won’t need it.” 

“That is an excellent plan! I shall be the one to explain it to him. He should accept it better from me.” 

“That’s what I thought too.” 

—

Beast Boy couldn’t sleep. He was tired, yes, but there was a tingling in the back of his head he couldn’t ignore. A feeling or an instinct that something was wrong. It had to be his animalistic sense. Then again, that little alarm had gone off a few times since Batman and Alfred came to visit. They were both up and about at night and made just enough noise that his advanced hearing could pick it up, even in sleep. 

But that instinct had settled down in the last week, finally getting used to their scents and sounds. 

But this was different. Something new, but somehow familiar. 

Would it hurt to check? If the coast was clear, he could very well pass it off as an effect of the upcoming full moon and go back to sleep. 

He got out of bed and moved into the hall, careful to be quiet and not awake the others. No reason to bother them over nothing. 

Last thing he needed was Raven making fun of him for literally crying wolf. 

His floor was clear, and was the floor below, where the gym was. But the floor after that, where Cyborg’s room was, was where the feeling intensified. 

Beast Boy morphed into a dog to sniff around in the dark. Something smelled like BO and pizza grease, but not like his room. 

As he rounded the corner, he was suddenly engulfed by a glowing orange orb, suspending him off the ground. He quickly morphed into a gorilla, and then attempted an elephant, but couldn’t actually become big enough. The material of the orb was solid. 

“What’d I tell ya?” Gizmo smirked, while holding a strange looking weapon, presumably what shot the orb. “Green Bean would smell your toe jam and pull the alarm on us.” 

“Fine, remind me to pay up when we’re done,” said Mammoth. 

“The Hive?! What—? How?!” Beast Boy yelled, but his voice was severely muted in his prison. 

Gizmo, Mammoth, See-More, Kyd Wykkyd, and Private Hive were all just casually standing in the hall, like they owned the place. 

“I promised to behave the first time I came to visit,” said Gizmo. “I didn’t make any promises the second time. Tin Man might be busy in the upcoming weeks writing some new passcodes…since I stole them all.” 

Beast Boy banged his fists on his cage. It felt like electrified jelly, and absorbed every hit he gave it. 

Gizmo then turned to his team, laser focused. “Alright, Raven’s going to be our next problem. She might be able to sense auras or souls or whatever, so we need to get her next. Kyd Wykkyd, you have that binding spell?” 

He nodded. 

“Good. Get her to the Ops room on the top floor, and we’ll get her bubbled.” 

Again, he nodded, and phased through the floor. 

“Mammoth, you’ve got Starfire. Mad Mod was able to hold her for a while with these Xenothium cuffs. Bring her upstairs when you’ve got her.” 

He cracked his knuckles. “I’m on it.” 

“See-More, you’re going to take Barf Boy up to the ops room while I take care of Cyborg.” He held up a flash drive. “This code will give us control over him until his battery drains.” 

See-More engulfed the already trapped Beast Boy in his beams. 

“Private, you’re responsible for crazy Robin.” 

“What do I capture him with, sir?” 

Gizmo shrugged. “If you can lure him up to us, I’ll bubble him, but he’s mostly not going to be a problem. He’s totally banana pants loony.” 

Beast Boy bit his lip. Robin was back, but as of bedtime, he was still resting in his room. No doubt, they’d find out soon enough. 

But, even at a quarter of his strength, surely Robin could defeat Private Hive…right? 

And if Robin couldn’t handle them, there was always Plan B. 

Batman. 

That is, assuming they didn’t get the drop on him as well. 

At the moment, Beast Boy didn’t really have any options except to wait and watch and wish he had been smart enough to grab his communicator when he went to investigate. 

He should really think about gluing that thing to his hand or something. 

See-More brought him up to the ops room, and released the ball to float about a foot off the ground. No running or pushing would move it. 

“Cool place. Never seen it from the inside,” he wandered around the still darkened room to find a light and helped himself to some snacks. 

“What are you creeps planning?” Beast Boy asked, nostrils flaring. 

See-More scoffed. “Like you could begin to understand.” 

Only a moment later, the Ops room door opened and Gizmo entered with Cyborg in tow. Cyborg’s steps were more robotic and clunky, and his human eye was closed in sleep. 

“Cy! Hey Cy! Wake up man!” 

“Don’t bother, Barf Brains. He’s trapped in his sleep cycle. As far as he knows, he’s dreaming of his stupid car and eating disgusting food.” 

A black portal opened from the ceiling before Raven fell, bound by the wrists and ankles with a white aura to the floor. The white aura also appeared as a mask over her nose and lips. Kyd Wykkyd appeared, giving Gizmo a thumbs up. 

“That’s three down,” Gizmo smirked as he shot his containment orb at Raven. “Just waiting on the alien…and technically crazy Robin, but I’m not worried about him.”

Raven, just wearing her leotard, rolled around to sit up and look at Beast Boy. 

“Yeah, they got me first. Are you okay? Can you breathe?”

She nodded. 

“Gizmo hacked Cyborg somehow, and has him under control. Let’s hope Starfire’s a light sleeper.” 

Raven gestured her head, silently asking about the others in the tower. 

“Not a clue. I’m calling it Plan B. If you know what I mean.” 

She rolled her eyes, but ultimately nodded in understanding. 

Then there came a boom from somewhere below, shaking the tower. 

“And…that would be Star,” Beast Boy smirked. 

“Kyd Wykkyd, See-More, go back him up,” Gizmo demanded, throwing See-More the strange gun. “I’ll watch these bozos. Not that they’re going anywhere.” 

“This is going to hurt, isn’t it?” See-More asked as they left. 

“I’ll ask again,” Beast Boy snarled. “What are you creeps up to?” 

“Nunya business, Butts for Brains.” 

“I think it is our business, considering you broke into our house!” 

“Big talk from you dweebs. I hear someone in this tower is actually a thief. Some heroes you are.” 

Beast Boy didn’t have an answer for that. He simply looked over to Raven again.  

She shrugged back. 

“Thief of what?” 

“Not sayin’, just something that doesn’t belong to you.” 

Beast Boy remembered the strange white doll again, though he couldn’t believe that was what Gizmo was talking about. 

After all, that wasn’t stolen, it was abandoned. 

Or maybe not. 

“Sir, Gizmo, Sir!” Private Hive arrived, a body clad in plaid pajamas over his shoulder. “There was no one in Robin’s designated room, but I found this old man in the room next door.” 

“Unhand me, you brute!” Alfred shouted from his awkward position. 

Beast Boy gasped and shouted, “Let go of our grandpa!” 

“Your grandpa?” Gizmo smirked. “I would have thought that any family of yours would also be green.” 

As Private Hive brought Alfred over to where Raven and Beast Boy were being held, Gizmo looted through the drawers in the kitchen until he found a roll of duct tape. “Here. Tie him up with this. Doubt the old man is any kind of threat.” 

Private Hive taped his wrists and ankles and left him on the floor between Raven and Beast Boy. 

“You okay, Alfred?” 

“I’m mostly fine. A little more bruised than I would like.”  

“They’re trying to catch Starfire right now. No sign of Robin, it sounds like.” 

“Miss Starfire is quite strong. They have their work cut out for them.” 

They waited more time in silence, anxiously waiting for any sign of a battle, while Gizmo impatiently rooted around the ops room. 

Maybe ten minutes later, the other Hive members returned with Starfire bubbled. Mammoth was bleeding from the nose and a cut above his eye. Starfire wore a tank top and shorts, though one strap on her tank was ripped. She was dazed and sprawled out in the bubble as they plopped her down by Beast Boy. 

“Star?” He asked, concerned. 

She clenched her eyes shut a few times, trying to focus. “Beast…Boy…?” 

“You’re okay. They’ve got us captured in these bubbles. Raven’s gagged and they infected Cyborg with a virus, so he’s out of commission. And they found Alfred.” 

Starfire just laid on her stomach, and pounded a cuffed fist against the orange surface. “I should have fought harder.” 

“Please, Miss Starfire, don’t be so hard on yourself. This was a surprise attack.”

“And I went easy on ya,” Mammoth mocked, wiping his face with a dish towel. “Next time, you won’t be getting up.” 

Starfire leapt to her feet and began wailing on the orb. Her attacks made the bubble shake violently, but it didn’t break. “THUS VAR Y’KEEM!” She shouted in her native tongue. 

“Ohh I’m so scared.” Mammoth rolled his eyes. “What’s next, Pipsqueak?” 

Gizmo gave him an annoyed look, but ignored the nickname. “We find the target. We have 24 hours before these bubbles wear down. I wanna be long gone before then. Crazy Robin is in the tower somewhere, but we outnumber, outpower, and out-sanity him. Call for backup if you see him.” 

Mammoth stuck a finger in his ear. “What are we looking for again? Some weird doll?”

Gizmo scoffed. “Nice work, Fart Face. Whatever. Yeah, all white doll, made of cloth.” 

Beast Boy let out a squeak that was muted by the prison. 

“Alright, spread out!” 

Kyd Wykkyd disappeared through the floor, but before the others could leave, the lights went out. The Hive members went still. 

“He’s here,” said Gizmo, converting his backpack into its spider form. “Get ready for something weird and stupid.” 

Instead, the main doors opened, and a cloud of smoke rolled in, making them all cough and choke. 

“What the—?” Gizmo exclaimed, but before he could finish, a grapple line wrapped around him and yanked him off his feet. 

A Batarang cut through the air and hit See-More right in the eye, making him fall to his knees and cry out in pain. 

Private Hive took out his shield and ran into the smoke, ready to fight. 

While the sounds of Private Hive getting the crap beaten out of him filled the silence, Mammoth ran at Alfred, swept him off the ground and put him into a painful headlock. “Give up now, or I snap the old man like a twig!” 

Private Hive gave a final ‘oof!’ as the wind was knocked out of him. 

Mammoth squeezed, and Alfred let out a painful gasp. 

There was silence, and then Batman flourished his cape and cleared the smoke. He stood in the doorway, watching intensely. 

“One more move, and Grandpa’s toast.”  

Batman noticed the bead of sweat that traveled down Mammoth’s forehead, but more importantly, the color draining from Alfred’s face. 

It just wasn’t a risk he was willing to take. 

Batman sighed and put his hands up. 

“Stand over by the others.” 

Batman did as directed, never showing what he was thinking. 

With Alfred still in a headlock, Mammoth recovered the bubble gun from the floor, and shot Batman. Then he dropped Alfred harshly on the ground. “You came in handy, gramps.” 

Alfred coughed and choked. “I hope you rot, you thug.” 

Mammoth kicked him once before going over to Gizmo and attempting to untangle him. 

Private Hive got his wind back and pathetically barked. “You never said Batman was involved! I never signed up to deal with Batman!” 

“Aw shut up, I didn’t know he was in town.” Gizmo finished untangling himself and dusted his arms off. “See-More, you good?”

The teen in question just sniveled, presumably not ‘good’. 

“Fine. Mammoth, Private, join Wykydd in the search. I’ll look in here and keep an eye on the hostages and See-More. You all have your radios?”

“Hostages?” Beast Boy barked. 

“Oh, did I offend you? What would you prefer? Prisoners? Captives? Losers?” 

 As the team split up, Batman opened the computer on his gauntlet. “Alright, what do you know?” 

“Oh, um…Gizmo’s kind of a returning pain in the neck. We actually…recruited him to help on the case. He’s the one that recovered the files from the SD card from Robin. Sounds like he hacked our system the last time he was here.” 

“Hm.” 

“Mammoth let it slip that they’re looking for some white doll that was allegedly stolen.” He shouted over to where Gizmo was. “Even though we don’t steal!” 

“Not according to our sources!” Gizmo chirped back. 

“And who are these sources?” Batman demanded. 

“Not telling, Bat Barf!” 

“Charming child, isn’t he?” Alfred quipped. 

Batman scanned the bubble prison, trying to find a weakness. “These cages are made out of an electrified aerogel, composed of silicon and amber. We could dissolve it if we had turpentine and toluene.” 

“Oh good. I assume you have those in your utility belt?” Alfred asked, sarcastically. 

“Gizmo said they’ll weaken in 24 hours. So we won’t die here at least…” 

“And no one has mentioned Robin?”

“Private Hive said he wasn’t in his room.” 

Batman shifted his jaw. “Then we might not be totally out of luck.”

“But he could not possibly take out the Hive on his own. He is far too weak right now!” Starfire protested. 

“He probably couldn’t win if they teamed up, but if he picked them off one by one…” 

Gizmo seemed to overhear that much from his spot across the room, and called out on his radio. “Keep on your toes for Robin. Don’t let him pick you off!” 

“I’m in his room right now, sir. Someone was here not too long ago.” 

Before Gizmo could respond, there was a long beep that was emitted from the ceiling. Then, music started playing, an acoustic guitar. 

“Intercom system activated.” Cyborg said, in an emotionless voice. 

“Intercom? Since when did we have an intercom?”   

When you were here before…couldn’t look you in the eye…

“Alright, who’s messing with the radio, huh?” Gizmo yelled into his com. 

You’re just like an angel…your skin makes me cry.

Beast Boy shuttered. “This is ‘Creep’ by Radiohead.” 

“Could that mean…?” Starfire whimpered. 

You float like a feather…in this beautiful world.

“That antidote didn’t work.” 

I wish I was special…yes so very special.

“Mayday! Mayday!” Private Hive’s panicked whisper over the com. “Crazy Robin spotted! He’s pissed! And I think he has a gun!” 

“Where are you?” Gizmo asked. 

“I’m in the trophy room. I’m hiding behind a corner.” 

“Why the heck are you hiding!? Get out there soldier! He doesn’t have superpowers! And don’t let his weird intimidation tactic get to you.” 

But I’m a creep…I’m a weirdo…what the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…

There was silence on the other end for a while, before Private Hive came back on, screaming. “Help me! He’s going to kill me! Ahh! Make it stop!!” 

Mammoth responded. “Private, I’m coming to back you up!” 

Gizmo scoffed at the radio. “You can’t find good help these days. Maybe we’ll go with the Hive Four until Billy’s out of jail.” 

I don’t care if it hurts…I wanna have control…I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul.

“Did Private say he had a gun?” Beast Boy asked. “Where did he get a gun?”

“I hope he’s mistaken,” Batman sneered. “Or else this is going to get messy.” 

I want you to notice…when I’m not around…you’re so very special…

It was faint, because the tower walls were so insulated, but there was a definitive ‘pop pop’ somewhere in the tower. 

“Shit.” 

I wish I was special.

“Private! Status!” Gizmo shouted. 

There was no answer. 

“I’m closing in on his location,” said Mammoth. “There’s no one here but—-ough!” 

“I’m making the call, get out of there!” 

Mammoth’s radio must have fallen while being turned on, as the sounds from the room were clearly heard. Fists connecting, Mammoth’s cries of pain, and someone singing along with the radio. 

But I’m a creep…I’m a weirdo…what the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here.

“Hold…still…you little…!” 

“Uh oh! Sounds like someone’s full of regretti, upsetti, and spaghetti!” 

“You…crazy son of a…” 

“Hey! There will be no goddamn swearing!” 

She’s…running out the door.

There was another loud ‘pop pop’ before silence. 

“Kyd Wykkyd? You still out there?” Gizmo asked with palpable fear in his voice. 

“If you let us out of here, we might be able to call him off,” Batman offered. “We might be able to save your friends.” 

“Like I believe you!” 

She’s run…run…run…

Gizmo sank to his knees in the common room, as there was nothing but silence over the radio, and only a warning over the speakers. 

Run! Run!

“Screw this! I’m getting out of here! Sorry See-More!” And Gizmo booked it out of the room. 

Whatever makes you happy…whatever you want…you’re so very special…

No one knew what to say. Was this considered a win? At what cost? 

Batman hung his head, shaking it in disgust. 

I wish I was special.

Starfire sobbed. “Why didn’t it work?” 

“What?” Asked Beast Boy. 

“The antidote! It was supposed to cure him!” 

“I’d like to know too,” Batman growled. “Because either the antidote was faulty, or he got dosed with his poison somehow.” 

“But he hasn’t left the tower in days,” said Beast Boy. 

“So…who got in?” 

But I’m a creep…I’m a weirdo…what the hell am I doing here? I don’t belong here…

The door to the ops room opened once again, and Black, wearing his ratty jeans and trench coat, stood in the doorway, gun in hand. “I don’t belong here!” He sang with the radio. “Sorry guys, looks like I made a widdle mess!” 

“Get us out of here, now!” Batman roared. 

“Damn, okay.” Black grumbled. “God forbid there’s any gratitude around here.” He left the room, and when he returned, he had Gizmo by the collar, his arms bound to his body by a grapple line. 

“Scuzz munching, brain barfing psycho.” 

“Turn off the orbs,” Black demanded. 

“I ain’t doing squat!” 

Black pointed his gun at his head. “I really think you ought to,” he sang.

“Okay okay!” Gizmo relented. “Jesus Christ.” 

Once he had a hand free, Gizmo simply tapped a button on his suit and the orbs popped. 

Beast Boy worked on setting Raven free from her binding spell while Batman picked the locks to Starfire’s cuffs. 

Once Raven was free, she disappeared into the floor, off in search of the injured villains. 

“You better fix Cy too!” Beast Boy shouted at Gizmo. 

“Ugh yeah yeah. Man, this is turning out to be a major failure.” 

While Starfire was free to help Alfred, Batman went to Black and held out his hand. “You really shouldn’t have that. Why don’t you give it to me?” 

Black screwed up his lips. “What if I need it?” 

“You don’t.” 

Cyborg let out a yawn and a stretch. “Good morn—hold up. Gizmo?” 

“The twerp hacked you, my man!” Beast Boy shouted.

“Several of our adversaries intruded upon our home,” Starfire elaborated. 

“Aww man…and I slept through all that? And now I bet I have to reset all the codes, huh?” 

Gizmo shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. I’m all done. You gonna take me to the police or what?” 

Batman begrudgingly allowed Black to keep the weapon, for now, and approached Gizmo. “We’ll take a little ride in the Batmobile in a minute, but first, I want a word.” He grabbed Gizmo by the shirt and dragged him out of the room. 

“I can walk you know!” 

Soon after, Raven returned. “I couldn’t find Kyd Wykkyd. Private Hive is stable, but injured. Mammoth was in the worst condition, but if he gets to a hospital soon, he’ll survive.” 

The group collectively looked at Black. 

“Uh, you’re welcome?!” He sassed. 

Mostly, they were just wondering how he was here and not Robin, but no one was sure how to ask the question. Black wasn’t supposed to know that they tried to get rid of him. 

Distantly, the group could hear Gizmo screaming as he fell off the tower, but no one minded much. 

“What did those knuckleheads break in here for?” Cyborg asked, playing catch up. 

“It’s the D-O-L-L again,” said Beast Boy. “I think that’s why Batman is interrogating Gizmo.” 

See-More still laid on the floor, in pain due to his broken eye. He spoke up, sniveling. “Joker offered a position as his apprentice if someone brought that thing to him.” He worked on taking his helmet off. “Jynx and I had weird vibes about the situation. It's one thing to be a big time villain, but that guy is not stable.” 

“So why did you join the mission?” Raven asked, kneeling to look at his eye. 

“Curiosity. I wasn’t going to accept the position, but I thought it’d be a good experience.” 

“Yeah, I bet ‘I ran a job for the Joker’ looks great on a villain resumé,” Beast Boy chuckled. 

“You joke, but we literally had lessons on it from the guidance counselor at the Hive Academy.” 

“That’s wild.” 

“As it is, I doubt I’ll be doing anything evil for a while, if I haven’t gone blind from this.”

“Well, make sure you make an appointment with your evil optometrist, and you’ll probably be fine,” Raven concluded her exam. “As it stands, we’ll probably need a few ambulances.” 

“My question still stands,” said Beast Boy, walking up to Black. “Where did you get the gun?” 

He tucked it away in his waistband. “I’ve had it the whole time.” 

“Bull shit!” 

“I’m serious. If you go back, it’s mentioned in chapter 6.” 

“What are you talking about?!” Beast Boy became frustrated. “You almost killed people today! Robin never used guns, and knew exactly where to hit people to knock them out without killing them. You—…” He shook his head and walked over to the couch. “I thought this was over.” 

“Wow,” said Black. “You all are nothing but a bunch of ungrateful brats. Here I thought I’d get a bunch of ‘atta boy’s for rescuing all of you. But nnnoooOOOOoooOoooo. You’re all like ‘people could have died’ and ‘I’m scared for my own life because you have a gun and you’re crazy’.” 

Frightening how no one had said the second part aloud. 

“Black,” Starfire began, resting her hands on his shoulders. “We are grateful that you saved us. We knew you could do it, and knew you were our only chance. We’re just…concerned about your methods.” 

Black looked at Starfire, tilting his head to the side. He glanced away, furrowing his brows, like he was listening to something. 

Then he backed away from her. “Glad to know one person is grateful.” 

A moment later, Batman returned with a pale and shaking Gizmo. “I have a location.” 

“Good,” stated Cyborg, from the computer. “Where are we headed?”

“Tomorrow night,” Batman clarified. “They have a meeting. I’m going to be there instead. The rest of you are going to watch Black.” 

“Uh…tomorrow is Halloween,” Beast Boy piped up. “With all the kids trick or treating, Robin likes to have us all on patrol.”

Black perked up.

“Right,” Batman sighed, forgetting the date. 

“Sir, could we not put him in the containment unit for the night? I would be more than capable to look after him.” 

“That will have to work. In the meantime, we should clean this mess up.” 

—-

After all of that, Beast Boy returned to his room, totally pooped. He hadn’t even done any fighting, but the adrenaline of it all kept him wired. 

But as soon as he laid down, he got a whiff of an unfamiliar smell. He morphed into a bloodhound and started sniffing around. Someone had been in his room. 

When it all clicked, he transformed back into a boy and ran to tell the others. 

The doll was gone.

[sofiapagen]

I wrote a brief story of how Theresa and Magnus came to meet each other! I was motivated by the artfight attack I received from korzoi (below).

I have some sketches of them as humans which is what I'm using for the story below. Enjoy!

Theresa was not a stupid girl, but she somehow found herself in stupid situations. This one in particular felt exemplary of such instance, as there seemed to be no solution for her current problem at hand. The smoke that erupted from the magical book she held had long dissipated, and the dragon man that she summoned from it was too pleased with himself to be of any help; for having noticed he magically erupted in the nude, she tossed him a pile of clothes and barked at him to dress himself. Disoriented but thankful, once draped, the gentleman’s focus fixated on his own reflection in the corner of the room.

Oh to be born again, and to find himself again. 

As he fluttered his robes and admired his form on the nearby antique mirror, he failed to acknowledge the woman in this space, scrambling through the pages of the heavy tome before her. He spoke:

“Is this… me? I am most… incredible!!! What fair and pale shades of… scale? No. What could this be...?” His neck tilted erratically, like a lizard. With open palms he caressed his face and arms and shoulders, displaying deep curiosity for the textures of his body, scratching his skin, observing his joints, how his hands bended and arched symmetrically, and asymmetrically. He felt control over his fingers, and reached for his face, twisting the thick ropes of his mustache.

“Uhhhhhm…. Uhhhh, uh-uh, yea”. The woman browsed through the ancient text in front of her with a furrowed brow and a tense hand over her forehead. Nothing about a reversal of this spell could be found anywhere. She felt her heartbeat fasten and tighten and her stomach twirl in knots in the face of her careless mistake. “Stupid, stupid ancient texts!!”, she cackled nervously.

“Oh!” This brought the attention of the dragon man, who turned back to face the young woman. “It is to you that I owe this, this release, this great honor!”

“Ohh, no”, she thought. “No no no we can’t be doing this, pleeease just pretend I’m not here”, she thought to herself.

“But I can’t, madam. We are now SOULBOUND!”

“Fuuuck and he reads minds. That's great”, even in her own mind she couldn’t contain her sarcasm.

He received her energy and deflated his excitement. He cleared his throat and fixed his posture, combing his hair backwards with agile fingers through his hair - which felt good to the scalp but which he had no time to examine.

“No, madam, I’m afraid you can’t hide your feelings from me. However, it shan’t keep me from behaving appropriately”, and he elongated forward on a bow. He slowly crawled upward and gestured his arms wide in dramatic fashion.

“I am Magnus, the great red dragon, the one that once was eternally imprisoned! My crimes were many and thus forever damnation was my punishment. But with my release, I savor gratitude to you. For that I shall complete a wish of your choosing. Please bless me with your name, and with the pleasure of your request.”

A beat passed. The woman gave herself a moment to sigh, deeply, as she closed the book defeatedly. “Oooh, rats”, and this she said out loud. She knew there was no turning back now. She rubbed her face and temples and landed her hands on her chin, cupping her cheeks.

“I am Theresa. I released you by accident. I would like you”, and she pointed to him,  “to return to this book” - and she pointed to the book.

This offset the magical creature before her. Magnus swallowed dry and replied bashfully: “Uhm…Hm, no, madam, I’m afraid that is outside of what I can provide for you”. He had no obligation other than his word to complete any proposed request, much less to someone who’d make him feel unwanted after hundreds of years of solitude. She felt guilt cringe at her chest from his reaction. There was a string of hope in her heart that he would be one of those easy to solve oopsies.

“Yea, it was worth a try though”, and Theresa faced down as she ran her hands through her hair, giving herself a quick second to think. She stood up and fixed herself and her clothes, picking up the book and putting it inside her side bag. “Ok, so…a wish.” She looked around the room to examine its state.

She had been a property guardian in less interesting places, and this current location happened to be a Victorian manor, held in time by dust and cobwebs. Anyone in her lifetime would have forgiven her for her curiosity. She needed to, no, it was her cosmic responsibility to have helped herself to the hidden library of this mansion, and answer the call to scrounge for magical artifacts. 

Despite a lifetime of misadventures in the 20th century, this was somehow her first unindented encounter with a humanoid magical being. With this unexpected guest at hand she’d be forced to make some adjustments to her current quests.

“Madam Theresa?”, said Magnus in a concerned tone.

“HAh!”, she laughed, and waived a hand in the air as if to wave the title off the air. Being called such made her think of the catholic chapels of her youth. How poignant that a creature from a medieval time could remind her of her life from such long ago.

“Please. Just Theresa is fine”. And there was silence as she looked around the room for the next exit. “Follow me, Magnus”, and she beckoned him to come.

He took notice and followed suit. Suddenly he was cognizant of the world around him and the colors blurred in too quick fashion just yet. The walls were much different from what he knew, and even the dim sunlight coming from the windows felt different and new. As he was guided through tight rooms, the sound of his steps tickled his ears. The shades and tints around him were none of which he had ever seen. His ears perked and he could hear what seemed like screeches, sirens, haunting whispers. He sensed a bustling world beyond the walls of this place, and information was drowning him into a maze. He felt dizziness overcome him.

Theresa glanced back to notice Magnus slowing down and losing the color on his face. “Now just this wa- oh, oh, careful, careful”, and she gently grabbed him as he fainted. They sat on the cold tiles of a large kitchen, which had been modernized with a few appliances. Even the color of the ceiling would’ve been unlike anything Magnus had ever seen during his era, and Theresa took a slight moment of sympathy, recalling her own first memory of when she first erupted in this century.

He shivered and his eyes blinked hard. “Y-You, have you, you have cursed me-”

“I am trying to save you. Please, drink”. She raised a waterskin to his lips. Out of options, he drank. She held Magnus’s gangly elbows in dominant fashion, keeping him upright and stable. They sat there for a moment.

As he took a breath of air and came back to, the witch confessed:

“I suppose I’ll have to teach you a few things”.

[rattlyglitch]

Sun meets good Eclispe

(this is part 2 of Monty meets good Eclipse)

Sun woke up that morning expecting to see Lunar cuddled up to him and Moon there as well but when he did open his eyes Lunar wasn’t there. Moon was of course charging as he probably stayed up all night to make sure good Eclipse arrived safely since Lunar made him promise to. Sun smiled and hugged Moon before getting up and going to find Lunar. Sun knew he probably was with the other Eclipse but didn’t like the idea of Lunar being left alone with him. He didn’t care if this Eclipse was different but leaving Lunar with someone who resembled the Eclipse he and everyone knew.

The Eclipse that had hurt him and his brothers made Sun cringe. So when Sun descended from the balcony into the daycare he decided to find Lunar and the other Eclipse. When Sun entered the play area he saw Lunar covering his mouth and giggling. Sun waved to Lunar and suddenly was grabbed by his wrist and dragged into one of the tubes that led up to the third highest area where the ropes were. “Shhh you have to stay quiet Sun” Lunar said, still giggling. “Wh-” Lunar suddenly covered his mouth. “Oh Lunar I’m done counting. Where are you?” Lunar and Sun remained as quiet as possible until Lunar let out a sneeze.

Eclipse suddenly peaked his head around the corner and saw Sun and Lunar. Eclipse smiled and waved to Sun. Lunar quickly tried to get away laughing and trying to take Sun with him. In a moment Sun caught his foot in a safety net in the play area. Lunar tried to get Sun out even though Eclipse was approaching quickly. “Oh brother leave I shall fend for myself against the seeker” Sun said dramatically. Lunar hugged Sun quickly. “I will return for you when I can, my brother” they said before leaving Sun. Eclipse chuckled when he saw Sun had gotten stuck. “ Let me help get you unstuck” Eclipse said before helping Sun untangle his foot.

“I see I was correct that Lunar had dragged you into the game of hide n seek. Well since I have caught you would you like to join me in finding him? I think it would be fun if we teamed up in finding him.” Sun thought for a moment. “Yes I agree. I’ll go left and you go right if that’s ok.” Eclipse nodded. “Let’s see who can catch him first. If we both catch him it’s a tie.” Sun shook Eclipses hand and then went left. He could hear Lunar’s giggling no matter how hard his brother tried to conceal it.

Sun reared around a corner and spotted Lunar Eclipse came down from the ceiling and caught Lunar off guard from behind. “Caught you Lunar” Eclipse said. Lunar tried to wriggle free but eclipse made sure he had a good grip on him before tickling him. Sun joined in on the tickling and did an evil laugh as he did. “The tickle monsters have caught you Lunar.” Once they were tired from the tickling Sun and Eclipse set Lunar down. “I’ll count this time. You two go hide.” And as soon as Lunar began to count down Sun and Eclipse ran off to hide.

[seasons-beatings]

Happy holidays, @panic-whump!

Lesson Learned

The two watched each other from across the forested clearing, the god in his large cat form, staring. Syn had collapsed against a tree, far too out of breath to keep running. They watched each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

“Come here,” Jais ordered. Syn snarled at him, breath returning.

“Come. Here.”

“Fuck you,” she growled. The god sighed.

“I would have thought you’d have made more progress than this,” he said, his swishing tail the only indication of his irritation.

“Yeah, you’d have thought a lot of things,” Syn spat. He sighed again and shook his head.

“Looks like we’ll have to review.”

Syn opened her mouth to respond, but no sound came out, her chest tight and painful. She couldn’t breathe. She glared, even as her limbs began to move of their own accord, shifting forward onto her hands and knees and shuffling across the clearing to kneel as Jais’ feet. He loomed over her, giving her a toothy smile.

“Lets see, what to review first?”

“How about how I was with your mom last night?”

Jais snarled. “Pets do not speak.”

The air left Syn’s lungs again, her mouth opening and closing uselessly.

“Much better. Now, pets also do as they’re told. You come when I call and do as I say. You have no thoughts of your own, no will of your own, no-

“Wait, you know this already. Tsk. Shame to waste all of that training the good Dr. Thyme gave you.”

Syn’s eyes widened at the mention of the name, quickly schooling her expression back into a glare even as panic began to spread through her chest. Jais smiled and hummed.

“Let’s review it, shall we?”

Suddenly Syn was falling. No, floating. Her limbs felt heavy, and yet she could swear they were floating around her. She was falling, tumbling end over end in a great abyss, twisting and turning and trying to find something, anything to grab onto. There was nothing. Nothing to grab, nothing to hold onto, nothing to anchor. She was falling.

She slammed into her body like a fist into a brick wall, already groaning in pain. Her hands hurt, locked down in cuffs around her wrists. Her ankles were tied down too. She pulled and struggled against them, the room too dark to see anything.

“Finally, its out of sedation,” a familiar voice came from the darkness. Syn froze. No. She’d been here before. The lights snapped on all at once. Syn cringed against the light, blinking against the brightness. A familiar form emerged from the glow, looming over her. Dr. Thyme. Her creased face stared down at her with clinical disinterest. She lifted Syn’s eyelid and Syn jerked her head out from under her hand. Dr. Thyme tsked and clicked off her little flashlight and took a step back.

“It’s cognizant. No lingering effects of sedation. Now,” she addressed Syn, “you seem to have a problem following orders. Lets review some of the basic concepts for you.

“Fuck you,” Syn spat. Her breath came out raggedy and harsh in her ears, still reeling from the harsh pain. Dr. Thyme waited several seconds and nodded.

“Good. Basic concept #2, you do as ordered. 514, open your eyes.”

Syn hadn’t realized she’d squeezed her eyes shut, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to open them now. Thyme sighed.

Syn screamed again as the pain lanced through her, arms held down by the cuffs around her wrists. She thrashed in the restraints, desperately willing them to break, for her to be free. Where was that pain even coming from?

It left and Syn nearly let out a sob, biting down on it in the nick of time.

“514, open your eyes.”

Syn shook her head. “Fuck. You,” she forced out.

Pain, more this time, all throughout her body. She tried to shift into a smaller form, to get out, to escape, but her body wouldn’t respond. She was stuck, here, in this.

The pain left and Syn did sob, only once, before she managed to take in a deep breath and keep the rest of it inside.

“Open your eyes.”

Syn’s eyes opened against her will, staring up at the dull metal ceiling.

“Good, good job 514.” Dr. Thyme said, no care in her voice at all. “Now,” she clicked a button and the restraints slid off Syn’s limbs. “Get up.”

Syn sighed shakily and sat up, swinging her legs off the table. Dr. Thyme nodded encouragingly and Syn hopped off the table onto shaky legs.

“Good. Touch your nose.”

Syn glared at her, folding her arms. “’M not your pet,” she mumbled.

“What was that, 514?”

“I’m not your pet,” she bit, wrapping her arms around herself. Thyme tsked.

Screaming, deafening in her ears, pain shocking up through her spine and down through her limbs and oh god.

It left and Syn shakily realised she had fallen to the floor. “What’re you doing to me?”

“I’m reminding you of your place.”

White hot agony, writhing on the ground, too loud and bright to have any thoughts around.

“Get up, and touch your nose.”

Syn swallowed a thick lump and wearily got to her knees, then pushed herself up to stand. She put one finger on the tip of her nose, watching Thyme with trepidation.

“Good,” she said, “you’re learning.”

[capribornio]

Oops, it seems Matt DraculaDaily missed quite a bit from today's mail. Here's the rest (extracted from last year's archive).

Later.—Another change in my patient. At five o'clock I looked in on him, and found him seemingly as happy and contented as he used to be. He was catching flies and eating them, and was keeping note of his capture by making nail-marks on the edge of the door between the ridges of padding. When he saw me, he came over and apologised for his bad conduct, and asked me in a very humble, cringing way to be led back to his own room and to have his note-book again. I thought it well to humour him: so he is back in his room with the window open. He has the sugar of his tea spread out on the window-sill, and is reaping quite a harvest of flies. He is not now eating them, but putting them into a box, as of old, and is already examining the corners of his room to find a spider. I tried to get him to talk about the past few days, for any clue to his thoughts would be of immense help to me; but he would not rise. For a moment or two he looked very sad, and said in a sort of far-away voice, as though saying it rather to himself than to me:—

"All over! all over! He has deserted me. No hope for me now unless I do it for myself!" Then suddenly turning to me in a resolute way, he said: "Doctor, won't you be very good to me and let me have a little more sugar? I think it would be good for me."

"And the flies?" I said.

"Yes! The flies like it, too, and I like the flies; therefore I like it." And there are people who know so little as to think that madmen do not argue. I procured him a double supply, and left him as happy a man as, I suppose, any in the world. I wish I could fathom his mind.

Midnight.—Another change in him. I had been to see Miss Westenra, whom I found much better, and had just returned, and was standing at our own gate looking at the sunset, when once more I heard him yelling. As his room is on this side of the house, I could hear it better than in the morning. It was a shock to me to turn from the wonderful smoky beauty of a sunset over London, with its lurid lights and inky shadows and all the marvellous tints that come on foul clouds even as on foul water, and to realise all the grim sternness of my own cold stone building, with its wealth of breathing misery, and my own desolate heart to endure it all. I reached him just as the sun was going down, and from his window saw the red disc sink. As it sank he became less and less frenzied; and just as it dipped he slid from the hands that held him, an inert mass, on the floor. It is wonderful, however, what intellectual recuperative power lunatics have, for within a few minutes he stood up quite calmly and looked around him. I signalled to the attendants not to hold him, for I was anxious to see what he would do. He went straight over to the window and brushed out the crumbs of sugar; then he took his fly-box, and emptied it outside, and threw away the box; then he shut the window, and crossing over, sat down on his bed. All this surprised me, so I asked him: "Are you not going to keep flies any more?"

"No," said he; "I am sick of all that rubbish!" He certainly is a wonderfully interesting study. I wish I could get some glimpse of his mind or of the cause of his sudden passion. Stop; there may be a clue after all, if we can find why to-day his paroxysms came on at high noon and at sunset. Can it be that there is a malign influence of the sun at periods which affects certain natures—as at times the moon does others? We shall see.

Telegram, Seward, London, to Van Helsing, Amsterdam.

4 September.—Patient still better to-day.

[autumnalwalker]

Find the Word tag game

Thank you for the tag, @fearofahumanplanet

My words to find within my writing are insert, fresh, sofa, safe, and chaos. Somehow though, in the 181,000+ words so far of The Archivist's Journal, the 33,000+ words of Empty Names, and the 3,806 words I've written for various dream recordings, none of those words have been "sofa" or "chaos." Some synonymous substitutions may be in order...

Passing this on to @theimperiumchronicles, @dontjudgemeimawriter, and @nikkywrites

You words shall be: empty, carry, warm, sharp, & answer

Insert

"But you get my point, right?”

“Sure.”

“But I’m not sure Road does.  Even after I tried to explain they toned it down a bit but were still talking me up enough that I couldn’t help but feel they’re overestimating me.”  Lacuna lets out the longest sigh of the night.  “It would be wrong of me to jump into this unqualified.  Especially when…  well, I’ve seen how you wind up on nights I need to help you back to your apartment.  Or to Doc.”

“Well, I doubt you’d actually be in the field, and if you did end up there somehow, there’s no way Road or I would let anything happen to you.”

“But what if I let something happen to you?!”

Lacuna cringes at the volume of her own outburst and looks over her shoulder in embarrassment.  Thankfully, ’s Diner looks to have inserted a dozen or so empty booths between the two of them and the next party over at some point in the conversation.

Well, damn.  Eris has known her friend since Lacuna first came Backstage, and this is the first time she’s ever heard the slender woman raise her voice.

Fresh

I returned the greeting and was offered a ride into town.  I accepted and found a place amid the sacks and crates of fresh produce.  Despite last night’s inadequate sleep I was more lucid now than during my prior ride and was able to better carry on a conversation with my nearest neighbors, as well as get a closer look at the strange animal pulling the vehicle.  Of the latter, it was a shaggy beast, similar in shape and posture to a capybara yet with proportionally thicker limbs and scaled up to the size of an ox.

Sofa Couch

Maiko was pleasantly surprised to see Lin.  Sympathetic when the funeral was mentioned.  Caught the other two of us off guard when she (accurately) pointed out that close as she was to Miranda these past months the death must be hitting Lin hard since she was the closest thing the old woman had to family at this point.

When I last saw the two of them before retiring to my room for the evening they were both on the couch, leaning on one another but awake.  I wouldn’t call it cuddling, not that warm or playful.  But I like to think that the two of them were providing some degree of mutual comfort to their respective pains.

Safe

The rest of the walk back is spent in casual back and forth banter that quickly morphs into Lacuna rambling on about the book series she’s currently reading.  That suits Eris just fine; easier to keep an eye out for threats along the way.  Not that she actually expects any - it’s a safe part of town, just like anywhere else in Crossherd she ever brings Lacuna along with her to - but habits from a decade of monster hunting die hard.  And perhaps one or two alleyways they cut down aren’t ones she’d want her friend traversing alone.  Lacuna might have a couple inches of height on her, but Eris has literally seen her knocked over by a stiff breeze.  Meanwhile, a sharp glare from the woman who wrestles werewolves into submission as a hobby has proven a sufficient deterrent in the past to send any curious bottom-feeders scuttling back down the nearest storm drain.  Not that Lacuna’s ever noticed, bless her oblivious heart.

Chaos Mess

I wonder how Vernon’s been getting on?  We did sort of leave a mess behind for him to clean up.  A few messes really, but not all of them were ours.  The literal mess of dropping things in the street to lighten the load on the cart in our mad dash out, yes that’s on us.  Also the situational mess of leaving him by himself to get said cart back to town on his own.  And the metaphorical mess of figuring out how to answer any questions people might have had about the unknown hooded figure pulling the cart.

Oh.  Wait.  What do we say if anyone asks about that?  We really should have thought of that while Maiko was still here to give her input.

[bohebabbitt]

Woe, blorbos be upon ye

Happy 413, and thanks for the stupid webcomic and fandom that replaced my personality in middle-school permanently .

I originally made a doodle of this concept to prove that you could swap ones cothing colors for the others and have no noticable difference. I was feeling so vindicated about it, that i just now finished this drawing months later.

[hollandsmushroom]

Yearning

Arvin Russel x Reader

I wrote this in a day, it was just me satisfying my want to soft intense Arvin smut with some slight worshipping vibes, its unedited and thats really all. Um please comment and reblog!

best, Mae xoxo

Summary: Arvin walks in on you when you were too eager to wait for him. Um then Smut ensues with no plot. 

Warning: NSFW Content, Neediness, Horniness, Smutty filth, Porn Without A Plot, Face sitting, cum play, cum eating, sex, male penetration, Oral(F receiving) I think that that is all. 

You laid on your bed, a spring breeze blowing through your window that you had propped open with a cracked wooden spoon. You held your book above your face, eyes tracing the words that lined the pages as your fingers scratched off the fabric of the hard cover, the embossed lettered creating ridges that you could trace absentmindedly. You were not taking in any of the words in front of you, no matter how many times you reread the same sentence nothing seemed to stick. Eyes continuing to act out what you so desperately wanted to be focused on but you couldn’t, your mind was on the boy that you loved, wishing so much that the lines the pans of your fingers were pressing into were those of the valleys of his toned abdomen. You knew where this was going to lead but you wanted to hold off just a little longer, yearning for it to be his hands and not your own all too familiar one, but you knew he was at working, leaning under the hood of some dirty car, probably with was a cigarette dangling from  between his thin lips. These thoughts weren’t helping your current position, it felt like your heart was beating right beneath your skin as it began to flush, heat spreading down to between your legs and you knew that you were only delaying the inevitable at this point. The thoughts of him becoming rapidly more and more filthy, how his lips would suck your clit like they did the filter of a cigarette, kissing his way back up your squirming torso to your lips, the taste of you and nicotine intermingled on his tongue, spreading across your own. You clenched your eyes closed at this point, dropping your book to the side of you, thudding next to your head as you hitched up your skirt, letting the fabric lay just beneath your chest, hands quickly sliding back down to you cunt, slipping into the front of your panties. 

Teasing yourself you traced your lips, the touch causing a shiver to run down your spine, the touch was gentle and only made you want more, slipping between your folds and tapping your clit, your body jolting at the much needed friction.

“Couldn’t wait, could ya Doll?” The familiar twang came from your door, your eyes shot open at the noise, immediately retracting your hand from your cunt as you sat upright, looking at Arvin, his jean jacket thrown over one shoulder as he leaned against your door, his white t-shirt tainted with grease. 

“A-Arvin, you’re here” you began to shift your skirt down to cover your panties but before you could he shouldered himself off of the door jam, foot connecting with the wooden door causing it to swing closed. His hand caught your fluttering skirt before it could cover your dampened panties. 

“What do you think ya doing?”

“Co-covering up” you stuttered, hand grabbing the flesh of your inner thigh, digging his dirty fingernails into the yielding skin as he pulled you to the edge of the bed. 

“Who said that is what I wanted” he hummed as his hands began to trace higher on your skin, teasing the sensitive skin like you had been doing moments before. His eyes tore from yours and bore into your covered cover, your soft white cotton panties so soaked with your arousal that they had become transparent, admiring the folds and valleys of your swollen cunt, your bud showing at the top, your lips spread as he pushed your thighs farther apart. 

He kneeled between your legs, ducking his face down low as you watched his every movement, how the short hair on the back of his neck standing one end as a shiver ran down him and to his dick as the smell of your sweet cunt reached his nose, mouth watering as he nosed against the clothed bundle of nerves, leaving the freckled tip wet with your slickness. 

“Yer already wet, Sweets, tell me what you was thinkin’ bout?” he prompted as his breath ghosted over your flushed skin. Your mind was a jumble, your libido taking over your thoughts as you ran your fingers through Arvin’s hair. 

“Lips around my sweet spot and” your sentence was caught off as Arvin gently sank his teeth into your clit through the fabric of your underpants. 

“Whose lips, darling? Better have been mind” he practically growled, a possessiveness sneaking into his bloodstream as he tugged you even closer, moving your panties to the side revealing your core in all of its aroused glory, the smell of you took him over, his vision going dark as he dove in, all tongue and passion devouring your pussy. His lips wrapped around your clit and a loud shriek of his name ripped from the back of your throat, both at the surprise and pure pleasure that took over your body at his sudden actions. 

He pulled back from you making an involuntary whine escape your lips at the loss of much needed friction. He looked up at you with eyes blown wide with desire, wanting to feel and taste every inch of you. 

“Of course they was your lips, they always are” you assured and he groaned, palming the flesh off your ass through your skirt as he returned to his place happily between your thighs, nipping and sucking at the folds. 

He pulled away once again, leaving you cold as your damp core was exposed to the air. He moved to lay on the bed, his back flat against the slightly lumpy mattress. Sitting up a little he pulled you towards him, bringing one thigh over his chest as the other stayed where it was. 

“Arv, what ya doin’?” you inquired, whimpering as his t-shirt met your core, but you didn't stay there for long, his hands grasping your butt and pulling you up even higher so your core was hovering just above his face.

“Making you feel good” he slurred, before latching his arms around your waist like a seatbelt, pressing his face deep into your cunt as he began to lick stripes through your folds, loving the reaction it spread through your body above him. His tongue pushed through your muscular hole, pushing deep inside your vagina, licking the inside as far as he could go, stretching you very slightly. 

His tongue left your insides and returned to your clit, happily sucking on the bundle making you jolt. The feeling was almost too much, your hands gripping into his hair and tugging it from the roots as you felt your orgasm beginning to build through your body. 

“Arvin, baby, ‘m close,” he sucked hard at your words, laying a light smack on your ass as you ground down onto his face, urging you to do it more, which you did, bringing you to your orgasm as his tongue slipped through his lips a flicking your clit. Your thighs began to quake as the pleasure took over, your whole body tensing as you threw your head back moans leaving your mouth as he continued to suck to sustain you through your orgasms. He felt his dick twitch at the feeling of your cum dripping down his chin, your aroma taking over the tent that your skirt had made around his head, dizzyingly arousing. 

Once you finished he let his arms unwind from around your waist letting you fall next to him on your bend, your chest rising and falling rapidly as your energy had been drained. You felt Arvin moving away from you resulting in your eyelids fluttering open, eyeing his movements as he reached behind his back he tugged on the collar of his shirt. The stained white cotton disappearing his face for a moment as it exposed his toned chest, even though your orgasm wracked your mind you knew what you wanted, to touch him. Raising your slightly tired body you managed to sit up, reaching over and tracing your fingers along his abs that you had imagined doing earlier. He tensed under your touch as it grew closer and closer to the waistband of his loose boxers that his dick was straining against. He let you pull his underpants off, his dick springing free and slapping up against his abs, cum precum leaking from the tip and leaving a mark on his bare abs. 

He put one knee on the bed, between your spread legs, pushing you back onto the bed and lifting up your shirt, your nipples hardened as your breast became fully exposed to the air, the summer breeze cascading over your chest, fluttering the curtains and shadowing Arvin’s features.  His eyes locked with yours as you began to shimmy off your skirt but his hands wrapping around yours halted your movements. 

“Keep it on” he ordered as he began to hike it back up, your slick thighs chilling as they spread apart, no longer together to keep your cum from going cold. A cringe spread across your features at the feeling. “What’s the matter, Doll?” his features taking on a look of concern. 

“S’cold, Arv” you whined pitifully, his eyes crinkled as a grin spread across his cheeks, leaning in and pressing his forehead to yours. 

“Let’s warm you up, shall we?” he cheekily suggested as his tip teased through your folds, precum spreading across your clit as he rubbed his dick against it before slipping into you, filling you to the hilt. He stilled once he was fully inside of you, letting you adjust to being full of him, brushing a stray hair that had fallen on your forehead. 

“Move, Arvin” you begged, and he rapidly began, pulling out and thrusting back in, but slower than you expected, his foreskin dragging against your walls as you could feel him twitch, his veins twitching against your tight core. Your legs wrapped around Arvin’s waist, digging your heels into the small of his back, pressing with him as he continued to push in and out of you. It was clear what he wanted, he wanted you to fall apart around him, to know that your fingers will never feel as good as his cock, how you will always need him, and maybe it was also to remind himself of that as well, that you need him. 

“I need you, Arvin” you moaned, arching your back up and pressing your breasts to his chest, nipples getting the friction that they need from rubbing against his bare skin. Sweat and passion coated you both, the throws of ecstasy enthralling you both, the world seemed to melt away, the clock on the wall became obsolete as time seemed to stop, it was just to two of you, tongues entangled as they fought for dominance, each others touch branding small littered bruises across skin. The feeling so intense you felt like you were losing your mind. 

“Arvin,” you screamed, your vision fuzzing like iron shavings at the edges as your body felt like a bonfire. “I-I’m close” you could barely speak, losing control of your body. 

“Let’s get there together farling” he groaned in your ear, picking up the pace of his thrusts bringing you across the brink of pleasure and into something ethereal, bodies entirely as one, wherever one began and the other ended was not of consequence as you fell apart in each others arms, his cum shooting out and painting your walls.

When you had both finally rode out your highs, he collapsed onto your chest, your sweat intermingling on skin, lips lazily working against each other, catching your breath as he softened inside of you. He finally pulled out of you, cum beginning to leak down and out of you but he caught it with his fingers, bringing them up to your lips and without any words you opened them, encasing his slender his fingers in your soft mouth, licking at them to make sure you got all the cum off of them before letting them go with a pop, a contented grin taking over your lips as you eyed the loving boy above you. 

“I love ya, Sweets” Arvin smiled, collapsing back onto your chest, nuzzling his face between your tits. 

“I love you too, Arv” you chuckled, fiddling with the hair that had begun to curl on his forehead. 

“Ya so needy sometimes” he mumbled, his eyes fluttering shut as the exertion of the day began to catch up with him. 

“Oh, ‘m sorry” you whispered, embarrassment taking over your form as you felt ashamed of your neediness. 

“No, none of that sweets” he pushed himself up, looking at your face as you avoided his gaze, his hand grasped your chin, turning your head to make you meet his gaze. “Like it when ya need me” a smile taking over your features at his softness “Just next time, wait for me, don’t need my baby being too tired to take my dick” 

“Arvin!” you cried, smacking his chest as you fell into a fit of giggles.

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