#i am so close to becoming fully nocturnal

[autistic-katara]

sleeping at night is great but have u considered that daytime generally sucks and night is so much nicer to experience

[venusvalhalla]

I've seen a lot of people speculate that Olrox will keep helping the protags and maybe even join the mc group in season 2 but I have not seen anyone wondering if he'll actually just keep working for Erzsebet. and maybe even become a new Drolta or something. like what if Mizrak's cruelty hardened his heart. what if he just goes full evil

[redbleedingrose]

Always Epilogue Part 2

Summary: You and Azriel have been best friends for years after you joined the inner circle as the top healer in Velaris. But with Elain and Nesta’s recent arrival, Azriel has begun to ignore your friendship in favor of being together with Elain. You are heartbroken, and it is Starfall where you will be confined in the house of wind with Azriel and Elain. Everything will be okay though… right?

Word count: ~6.2K Warnings: minor spice, fluff, first time writing Masterlist, Epilogue Part 1 A/N: I want to start off by saying, I am so sorry this took so long to come out with. I am not super happy with it, but it is here and this is the end. As always, please please please like, reblog and comment. I love hearing your guys' thoughts. It always means so so much to me. I can't believe I made it this far. The fact I have written a series is mind blowing to me. I hope you guys at least like it <3 Love y'all so much!!!

6 Months 

Ever since your conversation months ago, Azriel had done everything in his power to spend time with you, to give you his undivided attention, to ensure that you knew he was sorry, that he took responsibility for his actions, that he would try to be better, that you were the only one he could ever want, the only one he would ever need. 

As the days went on, you spent more and more time with Azriel, and you noticed a change in him. There was a brightness in his laughter, he smiled more fully, more easily, and his general demeanor, his aura, the way he carried himself, had fully relaxed. It had become more open. His wings were often flared out, expanding into their full span and never compressed tightly against his back, like he had stopped using them to cause him discomfort. You had even noticed a change in his shadows behavior, once standing at attention in every setting, slithering across rooms to figure out who exactly was present, were now swirling freely around you both, tracing up your figure and tugging at your wrist, your waist, your hips, your thighs, anywhere they could wrap themselves around, pulling you closer to their master. While his shadows were still alert and oriented to their surroundings, intent on keeping you safe, they had become more subdued, almost less angry, less rabid. Even the people of Valeris were starting to notice the change in the shadowsinger. Before, they had been too fearful of the male to send a greeting his way, nodding in acknowledgement, then turning hastily away to avoid his dark gaze, his shadows a threatening presence surrounding him. Now, the people were readily, openly, waving at him, even comfortable enough to begin conversations with the male they once feared. 

And the changes in you had become… palpable. 

The constant presence of Az had left with the warmth of his presence, a constant contentedness. You woke up feeling fully rested, ready, excited even, to start a new day with your mate. The bags under your eyes had smoothed into your skin, and your smile lines grew deeper as the laughter you shared with Az became more frequent and fuller. Every moment you spent with him reminded you all over of why you had fallen for him initially. All the things you had shared with him over the years about your likes and dislikes, he had apparently stored into his mind, holding them close to his heart as he decided what he wanted to do with you, for you. He outdid himself every time. Every single time. Every time he took you somewhere, everytime he brought you tiny gifts, every time he whispered hushed murmurs into your hair as you cuddled, you felt loved. You felt cherished. You felt adored. 

Decades ago, you had mentioned your love for stargazing, even going as far as to change your sleep schedule to live nocturnally just so you could have the best view of the stars. It was a common thing in Velaris, something that a lot of the townspeople enjoyed. It worked for a couple months, until you were nearly passing out in the middle of training and then Az had forced you into his bed to sleep. He sat across from your splayed out body, legs stretched out with his back leaning against the oak bed frame reading his book, ignoring your protests as his shadows held your waist down to the bed. He didn’t even lift up his gaze from the story he was apparently engrossed in when he sternly replied, “sleep first, talk later.” Eventually the cool touch of his shadows and the warmth that radiated off the male had you slipping into a deep sleep. You had woken up six hours later to Az in the same position. He hadn’t moved besides turning the page to his book, watching over you as you slept. When his hazel eyes drifted toward your half lidded glare, he smirked and huffed out a laugh, “Welcome back to the land of the living sleeping beauty.” The nickname had your heart fluttering, you ignored it as you cleared your throat and muttered back a hiss that had Az nearly rolling in laughter. 

You looked back at the memory with a certain fondness, hints of his love emulating through his acts of friendship. And it seems he hadn’t forgotten any of it. Not that night. Not the stargazing. The first date he had taken you on, he had woken you up in the middle of the night when the rest of the city was still asleep, grasping at your ankle and yanking you out from under your warm blankets. He burst out in laughter at your meek attempts to smack his chest, pulling you into his embrace and pressing a long kiss into your temple murmuring apologies before taking the blanket off your bed and wrapping it around you. He flew you to the house of wind where there was a wool blanket laid out on the roof, you gasped at the array of freshly cut fruit, croissants, biscuits, cheeses and bread resting atop it. The sky was clear, not a single cloud in sight, giving you an unobstructed view of the twinkling stars in the night sky. Azriel tucked you under his arm as you settled down next to him, wrapping his wing around you to keep you warm as he pointed up at the sky, listing each and every constellation that was visible to the naked eye, recounting the legends that came with them, legend of goddess’ fighting with the gods, stories of the earliest night court rulers and how they came to be. When you had finally gathered the courage to ask when he had taken the time to learn about all of these constellations, he casually shrugged, mumbling the fact that he had gone to the deepest parts of the library searching for these stories, searching for the different night skies and all the constellations they held, and had memorized each and every one of them. Where they were in the sky, and the stories associated with them. Just for you. Just to impress you. Just to show you how much he cared. 

The fact he had gone out of his way to learn about your interests, the fact he spent his free time for months memorizing small intricate details despite his busy life being spymaster, just for you. Gods, he had your heart palpitating just from that. 

The next week, he had taken you to the rainbow, insisting on buying you whatever you wanted without any limit. And when you had insisted you didn’t need anything new, that you had everything you wanted, he laced his marred fingers with yours, peppering kisses into the back of your hand before pulling you into different stores. He patiently browsed through the dresses, the makeup, the jewelry himself, picking out what he wanted to buy for you, imploring you to try out his choices and to pick some of your own. When you had finally given in, he had smiled so widely, so fully, your cheeks had flushed. The entire day he had spent, flattering you with compliments on how beautiful and elegant you looked, spoiling you with different clothes and shoes and whatever your heart desired, claiming all the while that you were the most entrancing female he had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on. 

A couple of days later, he had flown you out to the libraries in Day Court just to spend the entire afternoon picking out books for each other to read. When you found your picks, he led you to one of the gardens outside, sitting down next to you in a bench swing, pressing his entire side into yours, contently reading your pick for him. The book he had chosen for you had been a lovely, heartbreaking, remarkable tale of an antihero finding peace in his life with his wife and two twin girls. At some point during your reading, you had glanced up to find Az silently watching you. His tan cheeks flushed under your gaze, smiling sheepishly at you as he played with your fingers, embarrassed to have been caught admiring you in the sunlight. You gently chuckled, leaning up to press a soft kiss into his burning cheek before resting your head against his shoulder, falling back into the depths of your book, feeling perfectly content in his presence, feeling at peace in his presence, like there was nothing to worry about when he was around. And that is how Azriel made you feel. Safe. Content. At peace. Joyful. Full of life. 

This morning was no different. He had shown up before sunrise, pressing gentle kisses all over your face to wake you. He had already picked out your clothes, a lace blue top with waist high pants, setting them out before waiting on the balcony for you to get ready. As you walked out, his jaw nearly fell to the floor, hazel eyes sparkling as he admired you. “You are the most stunning female to have ever existed, my love,” his lips brushed against your ear, murmuring his tender worship before pulling you into his grasp, wrapping your legs around his waist and securing his arm around your hips as he pushed you both into the sky, carrying you to distant mountains in the horizon where you hiked up a long empty forested trail so you could watch the sunrise at the peak. The pink melting with gold and blue was one of the most stunning views you had ever seen, enhanced with the humming of your bond as Azriel’s arms found themselves locked around your waist, stroking at your belly. The silence you shared wasn’t an empty one. It was utter tranquility. When the sun had risen into the sky,  you turned to wrap your arms around Az’s waist, thanking him for giving you this experience. He only smiled, leaning down to kiss your temple, murmuring into your hair as he buried himself further into your arms that your day together wasn’t ending here, that this was only the beginning, how he had wanted to start of the day by bringing you to one of the hidden treasures of Night Court that he had found during his years of work as spymaster.

You spent a couple of more moments soaking in the warmth of the sun before following Azriel down a winding path that seemed to disappear into the brush. You gripped his hand the entire way down, his thumb stroking at your knuckles, your shared puffs of breath the only sound besides the morning doves coos. You walked for what seemed like miles, until finally, the path Az took you on ended at what seemed to be an opening through the trees. You gasped at the site before you, a remote cabin cafe near the bottom of the mountain that neighbored a waterfall. The water spilling over the edge of the cliff had turned golden from the sunrays, and the fresh mist created a cool sheen around you and Az. He quickly kissed your cheek before rushing inside to grab you a warm egg and cheese sandwich and coffee that he had promised would be the best breakfast you would ever have. The cafe had a porch overlooking the waterfall where the mist could still float onto the patrons without overwhelming them, and you found a little corner nook that seemed like the perfect view to the waterfall and surrounding foliage. Your mate finally rejoined you, sandwiches and coffee in toe, sitting down next to you to take in the scene. 

You had spent the rest of your day there, quietly conversing with Az about anything and everything that came to mind. Laughter was shared between the two of you, along with openly shared loving gazes sent to one another. To think that months ago, you were nearly considering rejecting him as a mate… the thought was nearly sickening now. Any time you mind accidentally drifted to it, your stomach would squeeze and your heart would drop. Every time though, the second Az would squeeze your thigh with his warm hand, you would forget. He sat so freely. His wings were relaxed, nearly drooping on the ground as one was leaning into your back against the chair. The sight of his damp curly ink hair pressing against his forehead, his tan skin highlighted, nearly glowing, by the sun, hazel eyes bright next to the waterfall that glowed with starlight left you breathless. He was truly, and effortlessly, the most beautiful male you had ever known to exist. And to think he felt similarly about you was nearly unbelievable. But here he was, constantly voicing his belief in your beauty, not as an opinion, but as pure fact. 

An hour before sunset, Az insisted on eating an early dinner before setting off on your next adventure. The cafe owner, an older female, who was gentle as she was kind, brought out a full fledged meal consisting of beef stew, loafs of freshly baked bread, and mash coupled with a bottle of wine. She hugged Azriel, kissing the top of his head as she sung his praises, rambling on about how, “he has spent decades talking about you dear, really, I am surprised he finally found the courage to bring you,” and “you are so beautiful dear, Azzy could not have done you justice even if he tried.” The poor male turned red at the nickname, staring you down as a smirk lilted your lips, knowing that endless teasing was about to befall him the moment the female walked back inside. “Azzy?” you mouthed at him, only to have your foot gently pulled by his shadows in reply. The female squeezed your hands after setting down the food, her honeyed eyes gazing into yours, simmering with joy, “I am so happy you are here. The hours this young male has spent loving you is beyond comprehension,” turning to Az with a wink, patting his shoulder before walking back inside. You sat for a moment, a bit stunned by her words, staring at the squirming male before you, it nearly made you laugh how shy he got under your gaze. You pressed your lips together into a warm smile, gesturing at the food, “Let’s eat sweets.” 

Despite being stuffed full, your mate insisted on getting a dessert the two of you could share, “It is the best cake you will ever try dove, I am telling you.” The smell of pineapple wafting from the plate had been so mouthwatering as he set it down in front of you, you almost immediately began digging in. The spymaster, however, snatched your spoon right out of your grasp, chucking it into the forest as you gaped at him, “what the fuck Azriel?” He smirked in reply, picking up his spoon, and scooping the whipped cream off the cake, nonchalantly popping it into his mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. You gasped in confusion, but before you could ask him what the hell he was doing, he scooped another part of the cake onto his spoon, this time holding it out to you. You reached up to take the spoon from his grasp, but he, again, pulled away. “What the hell, Az?” you exasperatedly rolled your eyes as he held out the spoon to you again, “What game are you playing?” 

He huffed out a laugh, clearly amused by your annoyance, “No games sweetheart, just wanna feed you myself.” Your continued gaping had his expression dropping into one of shyness, a blush spreading across his cheeks as embarrassment began to fill within him, “I– I’m sorry. Did I overstep?” You opted to not respond, giving him a taste of his own medicine for a moment, watching as he began squirming in his seat, this time holding out the spoon for you to grab onto, clearly uncomfortable that he may have crossed a boundary, that he may have upset you. After a couple of seconds, you decided you had had enough of teasing the poor male, leaning forward, enclosing your lips around the spoon, keeping your eyes locked on his. The cream melted in your mouth, and you shut your eyes, humming around the spoon before pulling away to watch Azriel’s reaction. His flush had spread across his face towards his neck and ears as he shifted in his seat, wings flaring at his sides as he stared at you, his jaw dropping when you hummed again, winking as your tongue slipped out to lick the cream that had been left on your lips. 

You giggled in delight, a shot of electricity coursing through your veins as the scent of the shadowsinger had shifted into something deeper, more musky, something more delicious that had you craving more than just the dessert before you. You spent the next couple of minutes going back and forth, allowing Az to feed you a bite and then himself, playing a coy game of seduction with the spymaster with your tiny moans and winking. With the last crumbs of the cake dropping into your mouth, you were close to begging him to take you right there on the table, but before you could utter out a word, he interrupted you, a soft look replacing his heated one, “I brought you here for a reason, Y/N.” 

You sighed, slightly disappointed at the shift in the mood, but accepting it rather quickly as curiosity began to seep into you, “Oh?” urging him to continue. 

He nodded, his scarred hand coming onto the table, clasping onto yours as he pulled you out of your seat and into his embrace. You lifted your hands to caress his muscled arms before landing on his chest, smoothing down the wrinkles that had formed on his shirt from the hours spent under the mist of the waterfall. “I– I hurt you deeply on Starfall. I ruined the night for you– for us. There is no making up for it, my love. But I heard that there was going to be a rare meteor shower tonight that would be visible from the peak of the mountain right after sunset. It is no Starfall… but… I want,” he sighed, pulling at the back of your shirt in nerves, “I want to redo that night with you, if you’ll let me?” 

You were, for what seems like the hundredth time today, stunned by Azriel. Stunned by his thoughtfulness. Stunned by his love. Never in a million years did you think he would ever think to do something like this for you. He brought you to the peak of this mountain to watch the sunrise, claiming it as a wonder of the night court. He brought you to this lovely cafe where you spent the entire day enjoying each other's presence, enjoying the openness of the bond you shared. He had spent the past couple of weeks, months, just loving you, adoring you the way he wanted to for decades but hadn’t. You hadn’t suggested anything, you hadn’t forced him to do any of it. This was all him. It was nearly overwhelming, the love he was showing you so unapologetically, so truthfully, so thoughtfully. You could feel the urge to cry building up, this time from joy. Joy that your mate was giving you so generously, over and over again. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I just…” He pulled you closer, pressing your body against his as he inhaled, “I hate how Starfall turned out this year. I just… I just want to do…” He paused once again, recollecting himself, a wry smile appearing on his face at the gentle squeeze you pressed into his shoulders, “I want to make it up to you. I want this to be our mini Starfall this year. But truly… if you don’t feel up for it, we can go home and do whatever you want… or I mean, I can leave as well if you want to spend the rest of your night alone, I understand completely, it's been a long day milling about and–” 

You cut him off before he could ramble on, quickly shaking your head, “No, Az, please. I want to see the meteor shower with you,” yanking your mate down into a bear hug, burying your face into his neck as you sent waves of love down the bond which he immediately returned with ten times the force you had used. He inhaled the scent of your hair, rubbing his hands up and down your back, squeezing at the back of your neck, soaking in the comfort you were providing. You held each other for a couple of more minutes, letting his shadows enclose you two into darkness. 

And then, without warning, Azriel pulled himself away, a huge grin pulling at his lips. 

“Azriel,” you shrieked, breathlessly laughing into the shadowsinger’s muscled back as he threw you over his shoulder swiftly, securing his arm around your thighs before he took off into flight, ascending with no extra effort despite carrying your weight on one of his sides. You clutched at his belt, adrenaline pumping through your veins, not because you were afraid he would drop you, but instead because of the thrill of the moment of intimacy shifting into one of playfulness, “We are gonna be late, my dove, we need to hurry or else we will miss it,” he merrily shouted back. 

You shifted slightly, turning your face towards his back so he could hear you, your teasing voice barely reaching his eardrums over the sounds of the wind whipping around you, “And whose fault is that?” You gasped as the male landed a swift smack on your ass, following it with a gentle bite on the clothed flesh. You kicked your feet, wriggling in his embrace which he only tightened, “How was I supposed to know you would take forever in eating our dessert, my love?” The carefree tone he used highlighted the ease the spymaster felt as he flew you to the peak of the mountain, night falling hastily as the heavens began to peak through the dark. 

You stood with your back against his chest, his arms secured around your waist as you both stared up at the sky. His wings had encircled you completely, providing their warmth when you had shivered against the chill of the wind. He had done it almost reflexively, like he hadn’t even thought of it. The moment he felt the slight shift in your stance, his wings strung around you to blanket you. You patiently waited, leaning into Az, resting the back of your head into his chest, admiring the brightness of the stars and the moons. 

And then, a bright streak lit the night sky. You gasped at the beauty, the meteor leaving a trail of stardust that twinkled in a prism of color, the sky merely morphed around the pressure of the spinning rock. And then another streaked across the night sky. And then another. And another. And another. Until the night sky had brightened into an aurora of meteors, the stardust twinkling brighter than any of the stars in the background. Tears lined your eyes at the beauty of the sight. Never had you seen anything like this. Starfall didn’t even compare in terms of the magnificence to this. 

“Azriel,” You paused, swallowing the lump that had formed in your throat, “Thank you. This is so, so stunning.” Your hands gripped at the muscles of his arms that were wrapped around you, squeezing as tightly as you could. He strengthened his embrace around you, kissing your neck, then the lobe of your ear, and then your temple before resting his chin atop of your head, “The depths of my love for you are endless, my dove. You don’t ever need to thank me. Not for tonight. Not for today. Not for any of this. You deserve every ounce of love and affection I have for you. All of it belongs to you. And I can guarantee you that this sight… it does not even begin to match your beauty.” 

A while after, Azriel had laid out the same wool blanket he had used on the roof of the house of wind months ago, allowing for you to lay down, one of his shoulders supporting the back of your head. Occasionally, he would lean down to press kisses into your temple or your forehead, or just to smell your hair sending strokes of warmth, peace, content, and love down your bond that was now singing. Your hand had searched for his, interlocking your fingers together the second you found it, rubbing the scarred skin with your thumb, lifting it up every once and a while to kiss every ridge and line that marred the back of his hand and palm. 

And you stayed that way, for hours and hours until the meteor shower had stopped, the moons and the remaining aurora now being the only source of light in the night sky. You turned, shifting to rest your chin against his chest, leaning up every once and a while to kiss his sharp jawline. His iris’ flickered back and forth between yours, caught in a deep thought that he murmured out after kissing the tip of your nose, “You know dove, I have always felt so terrible about my hands. I hate the way they look. I hate the way they are ruined by the horrors of my past. I– I torture people, and sometimes I think that maybe the mother left my hands marred because of how I use them to hurt others.” His eyes grew distant, as if he was remembering the sins of his past, the sins of his future. “Stop that, Azriel. Right now.” You pulled his hands into your chest, holding them close to your heart, “You protect the Night Court with these hands. You protect the people of Valeris with these hands. You protect your high lord and lady with these hands. And you protect me with these hands. These beautiful, perfect hands are nothing to be ashamed of, my love. I absolutely adore every crevice, every ridge, every inch of these hands. Honestly, they are my favorite part about you.” 

He stared at you for a moment, searching your eyes for any hint of a lie, but he couldn’t find any. A small smirk lilted at his lips, “Your favorite part, dove? I can promise you that one day, that will change.” You snorted at his cheekiness, a small… maybe a large, secret part of you believing him. But there was no way you were going to tell him that. You would, however, meet his teasing with your own, “I worship every part of you Azriel, don't you know that?” You pushed yourself up, using his chest as your anchor, lifting your leg over his to move yourself into his lap. His grip shifted from your hands to the curve of your hip,  “Oh?” he asked breathlessly, his pupils blown wide as his hazel iris’ darkened into a deeper, burnt shade of brown. 

“Oh yes, Azriel” you leaned down, a hair's-width separating your lips from his. His breathing quickened, feeling his heart begin to race beneath where your hands were placed on his chest, you closed the distance, licking at his parted lips, sliding your tongue across the plump of his bottom lip. His eyes fluttered shut as he moaned into your parted mouth, suckling on your prodding tongue, reclasping his hands at your hips, tightening their hold as you began undulating against him, locking your lips together as the sounds of his groans filled the night air. 

10 months

You stood in the kitchen, silently stirring the soup that you were warming for dinner tonight, lost in thought and missing your mate dearly. Azriel had gone off on a mission to Dawn a couple of days ago with a promise of being back as soon as possible. And true to his word, earlier in the evening, he had sent word that he was back in Valeris, but he would need to debrief with Cass and Rhys before he could join you. The moment you had received word, you had moved to the kitchen, ready to eat dinner with your mate and then stay up with him for the rest of the night. And maybe… maybe you would keep him in bed with you, and refuse to let him go. 

You smiled to yourself when you heard the door to your balcony open, pushing the soup off the stove, and running towards your bedroom where he stood at the doorway waiting for you. You didn’t hold back, leaping into his arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and leaning in to press passionate kisses into his lips. He smiled into each kiss, chuckling at your eagerness, holding you up by your ass and kicking the glass door shut behind him. He continued moving his lips against yours as he carried you out of the room, slowing your kisses into softer ones, and then into pecks before plopping you onto the couch. He didn’t hesitate for a second, pushing your legs apart to rest his own in between them and nuzzling into your neck as he flopped his entire body weight onto you. 

You laid together in silence, one of your hands running up in the space between the spymaster’s wings, massaging at the tender knots, all the while allowing his shadows to play with your hair. “They missed you,” Az murmured as he pressed open mouthed kisses into your neck, running his fingers up and down your side, feeling every curve, indentation, every part of you that belonged to him. You hummed in reply, preening at Azriel’s attention, your other hand fumbling with the locket he had given you decades ago, twisting and turning it between your fingers, and then opening and shutting it creating a soft clicking noise. 

Azriel pulled away, letting out a soft chuckle, before fingering the locket away from you, rubbing at the constellations and the poem engraved into the solid gold, “What does it mean Az?” Your honeyed tone encouraging his shadows to sing back sweet nothings at their master's love. 

He stayed silent for a moment, a shy smile gracing his beautiful face, a raw contrast of his usual stoicness, his fearlessness, and yet, here he lay before you. With every part of his soul bare, every part of his heart exposed to allow for you to do whatever you wish to it. He burrowed his face back into your neck, suddenly shy, hiding the flush that crept up his neck to the pointed tips of his ears, “It’s a poem, dove,” his words slurring together, drunk on the feeling of you pressed against him. Your now free hand reached down to play with the scarred fingers of his free hand, his breath catching every time you lifted one to press a gentle kiss into the flesh. 

A huff teared through your lips as you nipped at the pad of his pinky finger, quickly soothing the sting with a kitten lick that had the spymaster’s wings flaring as his body shuddered against yours. “I figured that out for myself Az,” you paused, shifting your gaze down to his, throwing one of your legs around his waist, “I mean what does it translate to?” He stared at you for another moment, eyes shifting between yours, studying you, memorizing you. Memorizing the way your hair frames your face, memorizing the way the warmth of the flames creating a soft glow to your skin, memorizing the color of your eyes that he can never find the words to describe the beauty of, memorizing the way your eyebrows move independently allowing him hints of your emotions, memorizing the teasing smirk you flashed at him that had his heart skipping a couple of beats. The words slipped out between his pink lips as smoothly as water flowing through a river, 

“Oh my beloved.

You have taken my darkness, 

As the light of a bright shining star that is you.

I am yours. 

I’m a dark darkness, and you are my enchanting light.

You are my golden morning sun,

You are my silver moonlight.

I am yours, Oh my beloved.”

Every word came with a pulse of love down your bond, a pulse of longing, a pulse of worship, a pulse of devotion. It built up inside you, a welcome sensation, a feeling of belonging, a feeling of yearning that ended in a tender passionate love that you carried for the shadowsinger, for the spymaster of the night court, for the male laying before you, for your best friend, for the love of your life, for your mate. Az sucked in a shaky breath, pausing, his eyes flickering with a fervor and nerves, but otherwise, was still, with his hand pressed into the curve of your waist, letting the heat seep in through the fabric of your dress. The only sign of movement in the room came from his shadows that swirled around you, encompassing you both into a comfortable emptiness that separated reality in this moment, from the reality of the outside world. 

Even in the darkness, you could feel his eyes hadn’t left yours. He hadn’t left you. The steam of warm air that slipped passed his lips pressed a gentle kiss into yours, reminding you, he would never ever leave you. The candescence of his voice lulled your racing heart as you reeled at his ballad, your mind dissecting every word and phrase that he, Azriel, had chosen to inscribe in the locket you wore since the moment he had gifted it to you. After another shaky inhale, he continued, 

“Every sorrow I carry,

Yanked away

As you fill my eyes with your light

As you talk to me without speaking

My world is in your love.

Oh my golden morning sun, 

Oh my silver moonlight,

Oh my beloved, I am yours.”

“Oh Azriel…” his shy smile returned as he studied your reaction to his words. You didn’t have anything to say. There were no words that you could say, that you could even think of saying that could properly express the way you were feeling right now. So you reached down to grasp his chin, leaning down to move your lips against his in a series of kisses that echoed with the love you poured down the bond. After a couple of moments, the timer for the oven went off. And you forced yourself away after another rush of kisses, taking a deep sigh, pushing him off your body but pulling him up with you to follow you into the kitchen. You seated him at the small dining table, resting your hands on his shoulders, leaning in for another kiss which he gladly returned, eager for more. A low hum was tugging at your bond as you slowly moved away, putting your oven mitts, opening the door to it, allowing the warm air to rush against your face as you pulled out and set before Azriel, a blueberry pie. Your mate's favorite dessert. You shakily smiled at him as his shocked gaze turned away from the piping hot dessert to you. You nervously wrung your hands together, “And the constellation?” 

His throat bobbed, “The…” He stared up at you, mouth opening and closing as he continued to swallow on the air that had suddenly left him, “The what?” His eyes flicked back and forth between yours as you seated yourself next to him, leaning forward to cut a slice out of the pie to place in front of him. “What does the constellation mean, my love?” His body shook as you took the fork that was resting on the table, trembling as you picked it up and cut through the edge of the pie on the plate, bringing it up to your lips to blow some air to cool it down. 

“It was the only constellation that was present in the night sky the day we met,” he muttered, his hazel eyes suddenly lined with tears as he held his breath watching your slow movements. 

A tear escaped, slipping down his cheek as you nodded in understanding, smiling at your mate as you brought the pie to his lips. He didn’t move, hazel iris’ needing to know. Needing to know if this was what he thought it was. If this was you offering food because you were accepting the mating bond. “Please Az. Eat the pie, and let me accept the bond.” A choked sob exhaled past his lips as he took a gasp of relief, your own tears of happiness streaming down your cheek as he leaned forward, humming as he stuffed the bite into his mouth, the golden thread tying you together, glowing and singing with acceptance and love. He pushed the plate away the second he finished swallowing, yanking you into his lap, kissing every tear that had spilled past your cheeks away before finally, slotting his lips against yours. “I love you so much, my beautiful mate, my dove,” he murmured out in between gasps as your hands cupped his cheeks closer, pressing your lips together harder, “I love you too Az, always.”

Taglist: @paasrin @positivewitch @fieldofdaisiies @judig92 @sv0430 @highlady-ofillyria @wrensical003@brekkershadowsinger@starswholistenanddreamsanswered@mrs-azriel @cityofidek @nova-stardragon @thewarriormoon @ilovespideyyy@azzydaddy@bookish-dream @nobody00sthings @marigold-morelli@solossweater@rubygirly@hanasakr@ellievickstar @shadowcrossworld @lucyysthings@cameronsails @peachycandy10 @bruhhv @flyingsquids @adreamerforthestars@lahoete@mis-lil-red@his-sweet-nightmare@esposadomd@blurredlamplight@elizarikaallen@tiffthebookworm@valeridarkness@wifeofcamillamacaulay @everyonehatescarmen  @azriels-favorite-simp@goldentournesol@marina468@elsie-bells@slvtherinseeker@cafe-inaaa@honeyrydernot@itsonlymemyself-and-i@nemesis6666@thegirlintheshadows101-blog@kennedy-brooke @chocolatecakelargeshake

[relax-and-read-on]

Math San, I Gotta Ask For More Of That Primarch planet Swap AU, The Amount Of Imaginations That Is Going Through My Head Is Insane, But Headcanons are enough of you do not want to update, As I Am also Genuinely Interested In The Headcanons as well.

Hello hello!!! I am *slowly* going back into updating my blog again, so!

Primarch planetswap au: HC edition!

Lorgar (From Terra): actually quite close to his father and Malcador. Has the habit of walking into Malcador rooms and face planting on the old man bed to complain, after a hard day of not strangling the high lords.

Angron: On Inwit, he had the disastrous habit of running toward all the giant carnivorous monster. Due to his empath power, he ended with a monstrosity called "Land-Orca" that he treat like a dog as a pet.

Fulgrim of Nuceria: Sign language was actually the primary one in the slave pits, to communicate away from the guards. The system that Fulgrim and his sons use together is different from any other, and quite secretive. He actually started teaching it to Ferrus.

Alpharius Omegon on Chtonia: They were actually homeless, until emp showed up! They never wanted their full identity as two knows to other, as it could have compromise their secret statut of vigilante, fighting back the local gangs.

Magnus of Medusa: Think rocks are tasty, okay? He never quite got over his habit of eating sand, but now it's mostly crystal. Has an actual chart ranking the tastiest ones, and fucking LOVE how tasty fossil are.

Leman of Delivrance: Has yet to fully understand that has wolf dna, and as such fight a lot of his instinct. Insist on touching everyone he consider family, and check on the regular where everyone is, and if they are ok. Always eat last too.

Konrad on Maccrage: when he was a child and having really bad convulsion, his mother gave him a pet ferret (wich used to be common pets for Romans) as some kind of alert animal. Konrad doesn't deal well with food often, so his beloved lil friend (called Regulus) became the fattest, happiest noodle.

Ferrus of Caliban: He actually has a romantic side! He grew up hearing songs of knights and princess, and then ended up becoming a knight himself! And while incredibly chivalrous, the realm of the arts (outside a forge) stay incredibly foreign to him. He does love nowaday harlequin romance novels.

Horus on Nostramo: In spite of having created a rather criminal society, he made extreme effort to make it a true meritocracy. Any street urchin can become a mob enforcer under him... If they navigate properly the treacherous world of the mafia.

Sanguinius of Fenris: He actually is a supremely picky eater, and does not trust 95% of vegetables. He only ate meat until he was found by the Imperium, he's not a goat, why do they keep waving kale at him?!

Lion on Colchis: Fully, 100% aware that the chaos gods are real, and actively pray to them. He has his "religion of the Emperor" that he actually use as a facade, since it annoy Emp so much, he doesn't look into his "true" belief.

Perturabo on Chemos: has actually developed full AI again, but hide it HARD from Emp and the Mechanicus. He like his robots!! He think that they should have rights! Why can't the Imperium be less stupid about this... Vaguely in love with Rogal and his Cool Armours.

Jaghatai on Baal: Became quite the warlord, locally. Was especially curious of the use of radiation, and definitely made some horrible WMD back in the day. Currently falling in line with the Mechanicus, as every vehicules present on Baal was almost holly in their culture.

Rogal of Nocturne: Created some really, REALLY advanced fortification that can, somehow, follow the landscape change. Is pioneering the use of dragon scales mixed with special metals, creating something that might be stronger than ceramite. Does not understand why Perturabo is always hanging around.

Roboute on Barbarus: decided to fight necromancy with fire... Artillery fire, to be exact. He brought the industrial revolution to Barbarus, and has pretty intense plan for terraforming the planet. Hasn't stopped working in.... Approximately 50 years.

Mortarion of Prospero: Like in many of my hc, Morty is intersex. He's lucky to have landed on Prospero, where androgyny is a sign of beauty. He actually like cultivating that appearance, and if asked what his gender is, he usually just reply "mushroom".

Corvus of Chogoris: if it's me, then you bet Corvus is a transwoman lol. She wear traditional mongolian ceremonial outfit as a power move, because *no one* expect her to be able to move this easily in all those heavy clothes.

Vulkan of Olympia: VERY close to all 3 of his siblings! He was never a fighter there, and instead worked hard to promote a democratie and division of power. He still is in contact with all of them, especially Calliphone. She keep teasing him about his possible crush on a certain Oracle...

[britcision]

I am so sleepy

I was gonna give you Waylon and Danny since I think that came second but I’m not checking

BUT THEN THIS CAME TO ME IN A VISION so here you go, have KON! 😈

Chapter 15 is sitting at 11 500 words rn so it’s soooo close I just got a scene or two to finish up (Bruce suffering Bruce suffering Bruce Suffering)

———————

I’ll Take The Highway part v

Danny couldn’t have missed Constantine making his way up the street blindfolded and with his ears plugged. It might have been the whole “owned his soul” thing.

It also might have been the vortex of swirling magical attention that followed him like a cloud. The guy clearly wasn’t trying to advertise his presence, but to something like Danny…

Well, trying to hide that hard always caught his attention. A magical “nothing to see here” tasted like liquorice in the back of his throat.

Maybe the trench coat was actually cursed, in more than just the unfortunate fashion sense.

Part of him wondered if this had anything to do with them. The rest, well aware what his luck was like, wondered if he’d come barging into the restaurant.

It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be getting ready to go anyway, but he just… well, he was having a surprising amount of fun just hanging out with Waylon.

The guy was old enough to be his dad, but he was a great listener. Really encouraging, and he’d told Danny another couple of stories too, some from his darker times but all with happy endings.

He was probably trying to make Danny feel better after their talk, and it was definitely working. It just… well, he didn’t even really like thinking about Dan.

He’d asked Nocturn to put him to sleep not long after becoming king, to give the guy something to do other than stew in a thermos and plot vengeance.

Part of him still kinda expected that to bite him in the ass, but even if Dan broke out of Nocturn’s dreams, he couldn’t break out of Soup Time. For whatever reason he’d never learned Danny’s portal trick.

All the people who kept souping Danny were dead in Dan’s timeline.

Danny had almost been ready to wrap things up with Waylon (as little as he wanted to; they’d already exchanged numbers) when he felt Jason’s rage bubble.

He didn’t realise he’d blanked out until Waylon tapped the table in front of him with a claw, concern on his scaly face.

“Somethin’ th’ matter, kid?” He asked in a low growl.

Danny shook his head, staring down at the mostly empty milkshake and chugging the rest.

“Probably nothing… just got a bad feeling about Jason,” he explained with a shrug.

Reached out just a little, extending his senses but not aura. If Jason was already mad, that might send him over the edge.

Just as he reached out a sudden flare of fury made his hand clench, the glass he was still grasping shattering. Great, he had a hand full of milkshake and shards.

Shaking both free, Danny shoved his way out of the booth at the same time as Waylon, the big man going from concerned to battle ready in an instant.

For the first time, he almost looked dangerous. Danny was glad to have him at his back for the visual component at least; anyone who didn’t think twice about pissing off a tank like Jason wouldn’t even blink at Danny.

Killer Croc though? He got that name on his looks alone, long before he earned it.

They didn’t even make it across the bar, wait staff scattering to what were clearly well established positions in case trouble came in.

Trouble didn’t; barely.

Jason Todd did, all but vibrating with rage and steaming green with Pitty’s contribution.

Wait; steaming? Jason had mentioned the Lazarus Pits did that, but Danny had never seen ectoplasm steam before. Could everyone see it?

Whether Waylon could or not, it didn’t stop him from hurrying forward, attention fully focused behind Jason for anyone following.

It was maybe the teeniest bit cute that even so angry he had a personal heat haze, Jason didn’t even think Waylon was going for him. His attention was fixed somewhere else; somewhere internal and probably bloody.

Instinct pulled Danny forward, Jason slipping easily into his aura and for a moment Danny felt like he’d drown in Jason’s rage. Answered it himself a moment later, stroking across the anger with worry-protect-safe now.

Jason twitched just a little as the aura washed around him, looking around on automatic until he faced Danny.

The rage softened just a little as he caught Danny’s eye, shoulders sagging. His jaw unclenched enough to talk; visibly enough that it must have been painful.

“Just fucking B again, treating me like a fucking child,” he spat, fists still clenched tight at his sides.

The effort it was clearly taking not to go out and start swinging kept Danny on edge, even as Waylon relaxed.

“Yer a long way from that, kid,” the big guy agreed with a low chuckle, still between Jason and the door, and rested a large hand lightly on Jason’s shoulder. “Want me to go have a word?”

Jason shook his head sharply, the smallest of smiles flicking across his face before the anger replaced it. Yeah, definitely cute.

“No thanks. You’ve only just got out, you don’t need bat trouble again already,” he said through gritted teeth, then nodded to Danny. “I just wanna get out of here.”

Danny nodded immediately, going from maybe-fight to flight. Which was kinda literally an option. Ghosts knew how to make an exit.

“Do you wanna take your bike or just disappear?” He asked simply.

Jason gave him a tight smile, barely layered over anger he was still struggling to control. Fuck, if this was what he’d been dealing with every day before Danny came along…

“Harley’s out back with Batman. I just want to fucking go,” he growled, shaking his head.

Danny nodded again, turning and crouching a little for Jason to hop onto his back.

“Phantom Express it is then.”

And yeah, he knew it looked stupid without Waylon’s confirming snort of laughter.

So did Jason, and the tinge of mirth that coloured his rage-burning-break in his head was more than worth looking silly.

Seemed like Jason was finally starting to trust his strength too as he hopped up without question, Danny not reacting in the slightest to his added weight.

And definitely not the way Jason now towered over him, or having those thighs wrapped around his waist. Nope. No horny in the aura today.

Giving a last nod to Waylon, he turned them both invisible and flew up through the roof, intangibility phasing them through at the last second.

Once they were high enough to be beyond any eavesdropping, he slowed to a stop, not quite looking back at his passenger.

“So, where do you wanna go?”

As Danny had kinda hoped, the sudden exhilaration of flight had tamped Jason’s anger back down until it was less a physical presence. It still seethed and boiled inside him, but it was losing steam.

About half of what he could feel from Jason now was just tired, and honestly? Couldn’t blame him.

Danny had been told how bad his pit rages had been, a visceral wrath that almost possessed Jason and made him lash out in all directions. And by all accounts? He still hadn’t seen the half of it.

It made his core ache just thinking about living with that much rage stuck inside. Feeling like that all the time… Danny had always respected Jason, but this? This demanded a whole new level.

And a little bit made him want to put Jason in a nice ectoplasm hamster ball so he could roll around the streets and nothing would ever hurt him again.

Gonna have to keep that under wraps too, since apparently Danny was losing his fucking mind all up in Gotham.

(Not that he’d never hamster balled anyone before. It was just usually a punishment for Tucker, or Wes if they were being assholes. Derogatory hamster balls were totally fine and not evidence of losing anything at all.)

The man himself was quiet for a long moment, struggling with just everything that was going on inside him.

Danny waited, turning them both intangible again just in case Jason could still be affected by the cold. At this height, it wasn’t exactly pleasant.

Made him side eye all those pictures of witches in dresses and long socks on broomsticks. Good way for the living to get pneumonia, in Danny’s opinion.

Jason didn’t even seem to notice, letting out a frustrated huff of air.

“We’ve gotta get Tucker home. If B is off being an asshole we can at least go to the manor,” he grumbled.

Danny paused for a long moment himself, considering another solution. After all, for ghosts it was simply unthinkable that they hadn’t even had an introductory brawl yet.

Whenever he got that pissed, getting the shit kicked out of him had always helped burn off the energy. But maybe Jason’s was different.

Danny was pretty sure he’d never been that pissed, not even at Pariah. Not even at Agent K.

Danny wouldn’t judge. For now, he nodded, turning to head towards the manor.

“We can go to Frostbite after we’ve dropped Tuck off. It’s been long enough, and you definitely feel stronger?” He offered, kinda hoping it might help Jason feel better.

The grunt he got in return didn’t sound convinced, but Jason also didn’t argue.

Neither of them were expecting to run into traffic in the Gotham airways though, at least not below airline level. Or to be interrupted.

With a sudden loud gust of wind, another black haired young man in a black leather jacket pulled up in front of them, looking around with a frown.

“Hey, I heard someone up here? Jason? Where are you?” He asked loudly, brows furrowing like he was still listening.

Danny’s confusion was better than words as Jason gave his shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Superboy the first. Tim’s boyfriend,” he explained quietly, and Kon’s head whipped around to follow the sound.

“Okay Jason, I know you’re up here, what the fuck?” He asked impatiently, which was when Danny remembered.

Still invisible. Hiding from the Bat and also concerned citizens. He popped them back into visibility with a sheepish grin, waving at… Connor? Or Con? No, kinda sharper. Kon?

It might have been a secret third level of alias, but Danny was pretty sure the bats had called him by a couple names over the various stories.

“Hey… sorry, forgot we were invisible,” he explained, trying not to laugh. Mostly at himself, but best not give the wrong impression.

Superboy’s eyes locked on them for a moment, narrowed briefly, and then his face broke into a grin.

“So, I’m gonna guess you’re Danny, Tucker’s friend that Tim has been gushing about?” He asked eagerly, reclining comfortably in the air. Then paused. “Well, gushing about Tucker. You were mentioned, though.”

That sounded about right.

Danny snickered and nodded, giving Jason a careful reshuffle. If they weren’t gonna be travelling for the moment, they could get a little more comfortable.

Thick thighs tightened around his hips and Danny very specifically did not melt into a puddle of goo. Not even a little bit.

“Yeah, we were just gonna go get Tucker and head out. Are you coming to see Tim?” He asked, kinda half wanting to wait around long enough and see what Tucker and Connor made of each other.

Kon if he was here in official capacity? But he wasn’t exactly wearing a super uniform, or logo. But Jason hadn’t mentioned a name, because Jason wasn’t a helper.

There was one easy way around that though. Bouncing Jason just a little more roughly than strictly necessary, Danny stuck out his hand.

“Danny Fenton, by the way. Since we haven’t been fully introduced.” He gave his best cheerful-but-totally-human grin. No point unnerving the first official alien he met, even if he was only half alien.

The boy reached out easily, giving him a firm handshake back.

“Kon El. Connor when we’re on street level. And yeah, I was just heading the same way when I heard you guys. Tim asked if I’d bring Tucker home though, he wasn’t sure what you guys’ plans were so if you had anything else to do?” He glanced from one to the other, so clearly not asking that he might as well have.

Could Kryptonians see the heat haze of Jason’s anger too? Or did he just know the family well enough, know Jason well enough, to know the signs?

Danny hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the other halfa. He could almost taste Jason’s indecision, holding each other this close. Bitter and tight in the back of his throat.

How much did he want to deal with his family, with that rage still burning inside him? Hell, they hadn’t even worked out what Jason would do while Danny took Tucker home.

Danny kept quiet though, leaving the choice up to Jason.

It didn’t take long.

Sucking in a deep breath, Jason let out a heavy sigh, a wave of pure relief washing over him.

The anger was still there, a hot little coal right between the dual cores, but it couldn’t drown out the gratitude-sorry-safe. Barely tempered it anymore.

His voice was still gruff when he spoke, still stiff with emotion, but Kon seemed to understand.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks Kon.”

The younger man tipped them both a sarcastic salute, straightening in the air and turning towards Wayne manor.

“You’ve probably got like, a text from Tim about the change of plan, if he even bothered to mention it, but I’ll let him know I saw you. Seems like you’re sticking around, so I’ll probably run into you again, Danny.” He gave them both a cheery nod and flew away.

A tiny part of Danny was sorry that they wouldn’t be around to watch Tucker spiral when confronted with Tim’s boyfriend.

Tim Drake Wayne was a hottie, no point denying it, and he was easily Tucker’s second biggest tech crush beside the mysterious Oracle. With all that hero worship though?

Tucker probably hadn’t actually noticed he was also hot yet. He’d have been in love with him if he’d looked like a snail.

Kon El though? Kon El had exactly the kind of leather jacket, too cool for school, sculpted good looks that Tucker fell head over heels for on any gender.

(Danny absolutely was not a hypocrite, he’d be the very first to admit that he and Tucker had very similar taste in partners, at least as far as appearances. Tucker just preferred a little more “step on me” energy.)

In all the reminders that Tim had a boyfriend, no one had said his boyfriend was hot.

Danny didn’t mention it. It wasn’t like he’d have been able to fully enjoy things anyway; the night before had proved that, and Jason’s mood had been rosy by comparison.

He did offer just one comment though, watching Kon fly away thoughtfully.

“Should we have warned him that Tucker is going to spontaneously combust if Kon tells him to ride him?” He asked mostly hypothetically, fading them out of visibility and tangibility again.

It startled Jason into letting out a snort of laughter which became a cough with his last rasp of thinner air.

“You just did, with Kon’s hearing,” he managed once he could talk normally again, and Danny considered feeling bad about it.

That sizzling coal of rage was almost buried under amused-anticipation-relief.

Nah. No matter what form Tucker’s next wave of vengeance took, this was worth it.

“So, where to next?” He asked, again… kinda hypothetically. From Jason’s sigh the older man was just as aware of what the answer had to be.

“Let’s just fucking go see Frostbite. If I keep looking at the city something’s gonna piss me off again.” He sounded reluctant, resigned, but a slow creeping glow of amazement spread through his aura.

About to pop open another portal, Danny tipped his head up as far as he could and made them visible again, looking for his face.

“What’s up?” He asked, willing to put dimensional travel on hold if there was anything they might be able to do to actually help.

Jason shook his head to focus himself, glancing down at Danny and quickly looking away. Was Danny imagining that sweet pink blush in his cheeks?

“It’s nothing.”

Danny waited, secure in the actual empathic sensation of Jason warring with himself on his back. Finally he won (and also lost, as all civil wars end) and sighed.

“Just. I’ve never come out of the pit rage this fast before,” he admitted gruffly, glaring down at the sparkling lights of the city below. Like this wasn’t something to celebrate.

Danny let them fade back to invisibility, since Jason pretty clearly didn’t want to be looked at.

“Hey, that’s great news! We’ll just have to short circuit Tucker’s gay ass every time you need a boost,” he chirped brightly, and popped the portal open to Jason’s laughter.

——————

Tag List: @welcometosasakiworld @kyrianclawraith @someonebored0100 @stealingyourbones @starkcravingmad @frostedthroughghost @akikkobara @rainbowbunny0159 @littlefeather345 @violet-catsarelife @serasvictoria02 @wolfjackle @blacksea21090 @secretdestinywerewolf @anime-hipster-the-amazing @undead-essence @skitscratched @blackroserelina @snoodly-boop @trickerdi @mayoota-blog @xysidhe @idkmrpianoman @little-apricot-the-writer @chaoticmistake @the-legal-shipper @bun-fish @aroranorth-west @demon-cat-goes-woof @perfectwastelandcreation @onyxlightdragon @larks-and-katydids @peachesandcreamfemboy @jesus-camp-the-sequel @may-rbi @mothman-the-mothman87 @viyatrix @stargirl1331 @idfk-man10 @thedepressedrobin @skulld3mort-1fan @rootsmudge @ravenshadow17 @cankoking @phantom-dc @mentalcarebear @magic-pincushion @redamancyardor @lyra689 @itsparadoxlacuna @alcorbearson @asphyxia778 @why-must-i-be-like-this @tkiesai @greenpyrowolf @frivolous-pastel @honeysuckletook

[a-lilypad]

‘omg ailish why haven’t you been active lately i bet ur life is so fun and interesting and cool’

I AM ABOUT THIS CLOSE TO WALKING INTO THE SEA AND NEVER RETURNING I HAVE BECOME FULLY NOCTURNAL AND YESTERDAY I SAT DOWN AT THE DINNER TABLE TO EAT AT AROUND 7PM AND DIDNT GET UP OFF THAT CHAIR UNTIL i shit you not 9 FUCKING AM THIS MORNING

i read a 200k bkdk fanfiction in ONE SITTING without even a single tiktok break, one sitting straight, i didn’t move, i didn’t leave the app, i just read. i’ve read TWENTY SIX fanfics from 30k words to 400k in the space of a few weeks my brain is mush

[rebrandedstoryline]

Rebranded - 14.2 - A Subject Overheard

Sun and Moon overhear a little something. Ayala gets a bit of a boo-boo :c

Word Count: 1,703

“”Moony, don’t be scared, okay? It’s just Ayala coming home.“” Sun silently uttered, hoping to ease away his twin’s nerves. A quiet, verbal groan escaped the nocturnal animatronic in response.

“”I’m not scared, Sunny. I’m cautious. There’s a difference.“” Moon replied, admittedly annoyed by his brother’s commentary. There was a difference between being afraid of something and being cautious of it. Being uncertain of whether or not a potential danger was approaching was not a sign of fear. It was a sign of caution.

“”Still...“” Sun murmured, his voice having become a faint whisper that echoed in the back of Moon’s head.

“”Ayala told me what time she should be home. She’s a little late, but only a little. There’s nothing to be cautious of.“” He reiterated, establishing further that he felt that there was nothing worth getting uneasy over. His point was only further established when a familiar but muffled voice was detected.

It was indeed Ayala. She had just gotten back from wherever she had gone.

Another quiet groan escaped Moon. He still refused to cooperate when Sun attempted to shift so that they could leave the closet.

This resulted in Sun more or less giving up and deciding that if he was to be trapped, he might as well enjoy himself. As such, the daytime attendant proceeded to fully lay his weight atop Moon.

He shifted ever so slightly to take up less space, which further entangled his and Moon’s bodies. They became a tangled mess of robotic limbs engaged in the most loving, but most spiteful hug that had ever existed.

This was Sun’s means of malicious compliance, and admittedly, Moon rather enjoyed it. He liked being physically close to his brother, because he still missed that point in time where they had existed as a singular entity. So Sun’s attempt at being annoying by pretending to smother him with hugs did not work in the way that had been intended.

Still, the two were effectively trapped in the closet until a particular, grumpy animatronic decided to move. Which meant it was time for another bout of unintentional eavesdropping.

Ayala was home and she was clearly on the phone with someone. She also seemed to be pushing something through the kitchen, towards the Livingroom. Her muffled voice was easy enough to make out, given the silence that existed throughout the rest of the house.

“Logan, relax. I’ll keep you posted if there’s any changes. I’m a big girl. I can handle this.”

The animatronics heard her voice as it traveled up the hall. Accompanying it were sounds of a large object being jostled about. Similar to the sound of a large wooden chest having its lid abruptly flung open.

Beyond that, all that could be heard were the sounds of her walking about in the Livingroom. Though, there was admittedly a concerning tone to her voice. One that was difficult to describe. There was a hint of annoyance to it, but also a nervous energy. The energy one might exhibit when they were about to do something that terrified them on some level.

Ultimately it all came down to a slight tremor in her voice. The subtle change of pitch between the syllables of the words as they passed her lips. Something not easily noticed by humans, but easily picked up on by the animatronics.

“Okay, listen. No no no. Listen. I am just doing what the shrink says.”

The animatronics had no means of understanding what it was that Ayala was discussing with Logan. Neither of them really had an idea as to what a shrink was, either. Though they had a feeling that it was some sort of human job title. The woman would speak to said shrink once or twice a week about undisclosed matters.

“No, look, it’s just. It’s not supposed to be a permanent thing. They said to try for seven days. ten would be ideal. If I can get through that then maybe I’ll be on track to recovery.”

Her words admittedly piqued the interest of both animatronics.

Recovery? Recovery from what, exactly? She hadn’t suffered any recent injuries. At least not any outside of the incident on the night of their first encounter. There were no signs of physical trauma or illness to be found where she was concerned.

The only other circumstances that the twins could associate with the concept of recovery, was recovery from some sort of substance abuse.

They were very familiar with the realities of alcohol and drug addictions in people. Fazbear had had its fair share of incidents with such unsavory folk. Not just from visiting customers, either. There had been multiple situations in which an employee was suffering from such an unfortunate addiction. Both Sun and Moon had been equipped with very specific protocols to allow them to handle such situations.

Still, the idea left them confused. Ayala did not trigger any alerts that implied some sort of substance abuse issue. Physically she did not exhibit any symptoms of an addiction. Her body was relatively healthy. They never detected any sort of drug in her system. The only alcohol in the house was specifically used for cooking.

That had been a fun little conversation in its own right. Neither had been aware of the fact that there were types of alcohol specifically made to be cooked. Types of alcohol that could get someone very sick if they attempted to drink it, due to a high salt content.

The animatronics were afforded little time to further ponder what it was that the woman might be trying to recover from.

What next sounded from the Livingroom was the sound of something being dropped on the floor. That something was most likely Ayala’s phone, as was noted by the incomprehensible static voice that could suddenly be heard, though it was heard faintly.

What proved slightly louder than that staticky voice, was the sound of Ayala hissing in pain.

Whatever had happened, she was now hurt. Not seriously hurt, hopefully, but still she was hurt.

That was ultimately all that it took to get Moon to cooperate and allow Sun out of the closet. He did so without even needing to be asked, shifting in order to allow his twin to untangle their limbs from his body. The escape from the confines of the closet was a mutual effort. Both of them were ultimately concerned about the woman’s wellbeing, though Sun was clearly more worried than Moon. Or at least he was better at visually displaying his worry.

Sun had to squirm his way out of the closet. When he eventually succeeded in escaping, Moon followed suit. Though he was fortunate enough to be able to just crawl out without having to worry about accidentally kicking someone.

Once freed from the confines of the closet, the animatronics proceeded to make their way down the hall to check on Ayala. They found her kneeling on the floor beside a large wooden trunk. Her phone was on the floor. Logan was no longer speaking through it; so either the phone had broken or he had ended the call abruptly.

Ayala had her finger in her mouth for some reason. Though the quiet sort of half groans that were emanating from her did well enough at establishing that she was sucking on a fresh wound. Which was very unhygienic.

Sun admittedly relaxed somewhat upon discovering that it was just a minor injury. His sensors could detect the cut that she was sucking on. He cautiously approached and offered his hand. He wanted the woman to take her finger out of her mouth so that he could administer proper first aid.

When she took notice of him; and she inevitably did as his hand approached her face; she offered a somewhat confused look. Following which, she sort of rolled her eyes slightly as she pulled her finger out of her mouth.

Immediately the blood began to spill from the wound that marked her pale skin. Admittedly the wound was a bit worse than sensors were first able to pick up on. Now that she was no longer hiding the injury in her mouth, it was clear that she would be in need of slightly more complex medical care.

Sun offered what could only be described as an apologetic smile.

“Stitches, or cauterization?” Sun quietly asked with an uncertain voice, opting to cut to the point. With how much the injury was bleeding, they were going to need to make the call quickly to avoid making more of a mess.

Her answer would also determine which of the animatronics was going to wind up tending to her injury. Only one of them was equipped to cauterize a wound.

Ayala offered a mildly confused expression in response to this. She sort of awkwardly shifted as if to try and catch the droplets of blood as they trickled from Sun’s palm, before she ultimately decided against it. There was no point in getting blood all over herself.

“... Cauterize it, I guess? My thread is for making clothes, not for... This.” Ayala replied, rather awkwardly.

Regardless of which option she went with, she was not going to be happy with the experience. The distinct difference was whether or not she wanted to accept proper medical treatment or to risk an actual infection as a result of letting Sun stitch her up with sewing thread.

She needed her hands for her work. Specifically her fingers. So she couldn’t risk an infection from improper medical treatment.

“Ah... Guess this is the only option, then.” Sun replied, before sort of hesitantly moving aside as Moon stiffly approached.

In the confusion, Ayala failed to immediately process what exactly she had just agreed to.

Moon awkwardly extended a hand. Sun carefully passed Ayala’s hand over to Moon. The nighttime animatronic reacted faster than she could, locking his fingers around her hand in order to prevent her from yanking her arm away; which she did attempt to do. This was actually the first time that the two had engaged in any level of physical contact since their initial meeting.

Needless to say, there was an obvious tension on both sides.

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

batkids and their relationships with their siblings headcanons. under read more because this got fucking LONGGG

dick

dick is the eldest so he doesnt want to bog down his younger siblings with his problems, but if he DOES, he tends to talk to jason about it

dick and cass start to really begin to bond when Cass shows up to dicks gymnastics class for 3rd-6th graders and then cass shows up all the sixth graders and they get frozen yogurt after lmao

dick and tim are Very much thick as thieves. tim is very much like bruce on the Emotional Suppression scale, so dick just really wants to make sure his little brother is safe and happy ALL the time

Duke and Damian are the only two really permanently at the manor anymore, so when dick drops by he tries to do something with both of them. duke frantically zoom calls dick every other week to help him with his his trig homework. dick shows up to dukes high school graduation with literally the BIGGEST SIGN

everyone insists damian is dicks favorite but he does actually genuinely love all his siblings equally, his relationship with damian is just Very different from the others because of the age gap and being dami's primary caretaker for a year. dick babies dami every chance he gets

jason

would sell Dick to satan for One corn chip

him and cass don't have the greatest start to their relationship because cass is very much Against Killing so it takes a while for jason to warm up to her and earn her trust. now, though, jason is competing with steph by showing cass all the classic American Teenager things she missed out on. steph is currently winning but jason is like 98% positive a crunch wrap from taco bell is going to push him over the edge

tim and jason are currently competing over who can solve the most cases in a month. tim is winning. that won't last long.

jason Loves to Big Brother duke its so embarrassing. duke will get out of school and go to his car and jason is SITTING IN THE FRONT SEAT FRANTICALLY WAVING TO GET DUKES ATTENTION. JASON THAT IS MY CAR. signal has one (1) mission with arsenal and arsenal goes hey did you ask that girl to homecoming yet and duke is like I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOU.

Damian is proof that Actually, Little Brothers are Pests. Jason fully believes that he was brought back from the dead PURELY to torment damian and he will fulfill this mission at any cost

cassandra

it actually really upset her when Dick didn't accept her at first. she knows her other siblings really adore dick so his lack of trust was really disheartening. it takes dick a while but once he Actually Accepts that cass is going to be a permanent part of their life and oh, wow, dick you really hurt her feelings he really hyperfocuses on bonding with cass for a couple of months which definitely improves their relationship

she really likes jason!! their relationship doesn't start well but because he's close with steph and tim who are cass's top two favorite people to exist ever, cass is like well i GUESS ill hang out with him more. jason is fun to talk to because he always tries his best to explain jokes and give context to what people are talking about (also tim took her to taco bell already but she didn't tell jason she just wanted to hang out)

cass LOVES tim. they just click okay. tim always seems to know when to give her space and when to push and come closer. Tim's "guest room" is just her room lets be real. tim and cass occasionally get mistaken for twins and Cass Loves it.

duke makes cass listen to metal once and cass loses. her. damn. mind. they bond over music a lot because they both Love Music to a degree the others in their family don't.

damian!! damian is her little brother!!! dami isn't As Hostile to cass at first because he is 100% aware cass has the edge in fighting and respects her. cass likes all of his instagram posts and they have a snapchat streak going

tim

tim Loves dick, dick was his first sibling!! he had Very strong hero worship when he first met dick but it mellowed out when tim got older because wow 17 is really not that cool and mature lol. tim has an open invitation to dick's apartment which he does occasionally take advantage of. tim has more than once scared the shit out of wally when wally comes over and wally is convinced they're being robbed (HA) for half a second. i mean. he's not wrong.

listen. tim understands that forgiving the guy who tried to kill you would be a Struggle for some people and it was! definitely! but also at least he can trust jason to, uh, be open about if he doesn't like tim. which is not an assurance he has with other people. so if the guy who tried to kill him tells him tim is cool now then like. maybe tim isn't that bad or annoying a person? also jason arrested a whole gang and won the cases competition but then it created a power vacuum that the whole batfam had to clean up the rest of the month. thanks, jason.

tim LOVES cass. you know how most of the time theres this empty feeling inside you and you just kind of ignore it because you don't know what will fix it or if you do, you know you can't fix it? cass makes that empty feeling feel a little less empty. they just click. tim always tries to travel with cass whenever she leaves gotham.

tim and duke. Tim is actually the sibling who duke goes to whenever he has questions he doesn't want to ask bruce or alfred about, like, life or vigilante-ing or school or college or whatever and Tim is always like yes!! i love Giving Advice and Solving Problems!! tim and duke and jason fill out their college applications together.

tim and damian. LMAO. ROUGH START THAT'S ALL ILL SAY. at some point alfred goes like fuck it. family therapy. and tim and dami are PISSED. tim and damian get along best when they have a common enemy to work against. their relationship gets much better when damian is older and they actually talk about their feelings like emotionally stunted bats. despite how bad their relationship was, tim will ALWAYS protect damian

duke

very much intimidated by dick at first. dick is so much older and has his own job and friends and life and is very much AN ADULT. dick likes to take duke out to do lots of cool stuff (paintball, lasertag, tech exhibitions, concerts, etc). also, dick PERSONALLY introduced duke to superman and is dating THE FLASH. 10/10 awesome big brother.

was intimidated by jason for 0.5 seconds before jason actually opened his mouth and started speaking. jason is literally. So Embarrassing. which is weird because nobody else really seems to feel that way about jason but duke knows he's 100% in the right here. like yeah jason is also An Adult and does Adult Stuff but he's also at the manor like every other weekend???? and he always complains about bruce but always seems to be in the same room bruce is in????? like okay jason. they bond over literature!! jason and duke and alfred will spend literal hours talking about books and duke loves it. duke is the only one who doesn't think jason is funny and jason gets so upset about it lmao.

cass has this one week where she gets really into photography and by virtue of being nearby (and also not nocturnal), duke becomes her victim subject. duke prints out all the pictures and hangs them up in his room (his favorite is one he took when he stole the camera and took a really bad selfie of them together).

tim is closest in age to duke so duke tends to hang around with him a lot. tim introduced duke to his young justice friends and duke is like yes!!! meta-friends!!!! tim really helps duke out with his powers because tim is always like wow i wonder if your powers would work if we did This? can you see farther than other people? is your visible spectrum of light different than other humans? Bruce does the same thing but bruce is boring about it lol.

damian and duke live in the same house and will be in the same room and just send each other social media posts back and forth. they follow each other on instagram and will, OCCASIONALLY, make tik toks together because they're tik tok fiends. each of his siblings have visited his parents once or twice but damian routinely comes with him.

damian

damian gets a special bullet point to say that it took him. forever to come around to the idea of having siblings. he very much believed that he was Bruce's Blood Son and everyone else were just tagalongs or allies. it took him ages to acknowledge that dick, jason, tim, and cass were his siblings, so when duke came and like a week later damian was like Ah, Yes, this is my brother Thomas everyone else was like dude wtf

listen. LISTEN. Obviously. Richard is very highly skilled. and also Father values him highly. and also Richard will listen to Damian complain about his schoolmates. and also Richard is much more patient with Damian than other members of his family. listen....,,, (all this to say damian kind of fucking adores dick lmaooooo this kid).

Todd is kind of unbearable but damian has been informed this is both a normal feeling when it comes to Todd and also big brothers. damian was an only child for ten years so yes, Father, if Todd attempts to tickle me I WILL break his fucking nose. yes i WILL put money in the swear jar but I want you to know i don't regret it. they always try to sneak up on each other but mostly fail.

DRAKE!!! but no lol once damian grows up and is like I Apologize for attempting to murder you it was wrong and you are just as much a son to Father as I am tim is like UGH i guess its cool since ur being so emotionally mature and all. also im 2 for 5 on siblings trying to murder me so im definitely going to win trauma bingo and damian is like i take it back you are insufferable. When Will My Older Siblings Stop Joking About Their Trauma.

CASS!!! listen. cass is cool. Cass Gets It. They have a special Bond. also damian really likes it whenever cass is home because 1) he gets to hang out and do something cool with cass and 2) he feels significantly safer with cass in the house because Nobody will be able to hurt any of their family if Cass is there. ALSO he tries to call her cain but everyone is like DONT DO THAT and he doesn't want to call her wayne bcus theyre ALL wayne (dick adds it on as a middle name but also Richard John Wayne West-Grayson is just. the lamest name ever so dick needs to reconsider it before his upcoming nuptials)((dick will not reconsider it except maybe whether grayson-west would work better)) and so he tries cassandra but cass is like :) call me cass and damian is like cassandra is more formal and respectful and cass is like :) and finally damian just has to give in.

Duke! him and duke actually live together so they get the Most Bonding Time and have a bunch of inside jokes as a result. (is it bad i wanted to laugh because inside jokes... joker... i'll see myself out). they're eating breakfast together (and also alfred sits with them IM NOT A MONSTER ALFIE'S LIKE 70 NOW OKAY) and duke laughs and bruce is like what are you laughing at, son? and duke is like oh damian just showed me this funny meme and then he shows the phone to bruce and bruce grabs it (both the boys groan) and after WAY TOO LONG is like "i don't get it" and so now duke and damian have to try and explain the comedic intricacy of bob's burgers

[bubblegumbeech]

Stumbling in your Sleep

Phic Phight prompt fill for @the-only-wife

It was the ticking sound that woke him.

Danny yawned, blinking sleep out of his eyes and stretching out his sore muscles. Looking around only served to confuse him though. He wasn’t in his room anymore, and he wasn’t downstairs either (which sometimes happened with his body’s penchant to fall through not only his bed, but the floor). He was in a large, heavily shadowed room that was on the edge of familiar, and it was taking him a moment to place it in his sleep fogged mind.

“It’s not healthy to fixate on what could have been,” came a deep, familiar voice from behind him.

Startled, Danny spun around to see Clockwork floating a few feet away. He was in his eldest form, long knitted beard and all, and was gazing past Danny towards something further in the room.

Following that gaze, Danny saw what exactly Clockwork had been talking about and flinched, flying quickly away from it and over towards the Ancient.  

It was a Thermos, horridly familiar and just- sitting there on a pillow as if for display.

“How did I get here?” Danny asked, putting Clockwork between himself and that thing .

Clockwork hummed, stroking his beard a moment before slowly answering, “I suppose, the likely answer is that you were having a nightmare.” He lowered a hand to Danny’s shoulder and led him out of the room and back into a more familiar part of the clock tower. “Let’s get you some tea before I send you home, it might calm your nerves.”

Danny followed, eager for distance, before asking, “the likely answer? Does that mean you don’t know?”

“Despite what you and certain others seem to think, I am neither omniscient nor a mind reader, I cannot see into your dreams,” Clockwork said and Danny chuckled softly. “Besides, Nocturn would likely be unappreciative if I was interfering in his domain.”

“You know Nocturn?” Danny asked stopping and tugging lightly on Clockwork’s cloak so that he’d stop as well.

He did, lifting one of his eyebrows and answering with a dry tone, “of course I do, I know everyone.”

Because of course he did. It wasn’t like he didn’t just tell Danny that he wasn’t omniscient, that was clearly a different skill set to someone as determined to be mysterious as Clockwork. Danny found himself wondering if the intrigue surrounding the older ghost was not mostly of his own creation, an attempt at seeming aloof and beyond comprehension while simultaneously laughing behind everyone else’s backs.

A wash of amusement filtered through the ambient ectoplasm of Clockwork’s lair and Danny scowled up at him, “I thought you weren’t a mind reader?”

Clockwork tried to hide his smile, unsuccessfully, and nodded, “I do not need to be, to hear the accusations you make towards me,” he guided Danny to the main room of the tower where the screens were kept along with the relatively recent addition of a couch and coffee table. There was warm tea, purple and slightly glowing, already waiting for them.

“So I’m right then? You are just messing with us all the time?” Danny grabbed his own cup, dubious, Clockwork wouldn’t poison him right? He would know whether a half ghost could drink something if anyone did.

If Danny was expecting an answer, he’d be dissapointed, but when a ghost spent enough time with the mysterious Ancient it became increasingly clear that straight answers were not something they would get  in large supply. So instead he rolled his eyes and took a sip of his tea, Clockwork could be as obnoxious as he wanted after saving Danny’s family like he did.

The least Danny could do in return, was accept his eccentricities.

“Do you remember your dream?” Clockwork asked and Danny shook his head. There were bits and pieces, sure. Certain emotions and feelings that flashed to the surface when he closed his eyes or tried to think about it. He’d never been good at trying to recall something once he was awake, and despite Jazz once offering to buy him a dream journal to ‘help him decode his inner turmoils’ he’d never felt the need to try and change that.

He sighed into his tea, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bother you. I know you’re busy.” There was no way he was going to get a decent amount of sleep now, especially since he’d have to fly all the way home first and he didn’t even know how late it already was.

Clockwork’s lips twitched slightly upwards, “Daniel you’ve never once cared before how busy I am when you’ve come to visit,” Danny flinched, well he wasn’t wrong , “and besides, I quite enjoy your company. It’s no trouble at all.”

“Ah,” Danny didn’t know how to react to that, he was pretty sure he was nothing but trouble, especially with a certain future of his locked up in that other part of the clock tower they’d been in, “thanks?”

His host sighed, taking the time to sip his own eerily glowing tea. The silence stretched, but not uncomfortably and Danny found himself starting to drift towards sleep again, the struggle to try and keep his eyes pried open quickly becoming a losing one.

That was probably his cue to leave, as nice as it was to just sit here and not worry about things like classes and ghost attacks, he was probably already pushing it close to the first bell at school. He stood up and Clockwork’s eyes followed, “I have to head out, thanks for the tea Clockwork. I’ll try to be more considerate the next time I drop by.”

There was a small pinch between Clockwork’s brows, something he wasn’t saying or that Danny wasn’t hearing. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he assured and Danny let out a chuckle. He’d probably respond with something equally sarcastic, if not quite as dry, if he wasn’t so tired.

Clockwork seemed to be of the same mind, “Daniel, when was the last time you slept through the night?” He asked it as a question, as if he didn’t already know. Then again, maybe Danny was giving himself too much credit, it was entirely possible Clockwork didn’t waste his incredible power watching to see if Danny bothered to sleep at night.

“Yesterday,” Danny lied, a yawn built behind his jaw as if to discredit him but Danny held it back stubbornly. It didn’t seem to work though, as Clockwork’s lips tightened. He looked over at his screens, eyes flicking quickly over each one while his fingers tapped a steady rhythm against his staff. That, combined with the gentle ticking of clocks and general comforting atmosphere of the other ghost’s lair was making it more and more difficult for Danny to keep his eyes open.

He flinched awake fully as a hand shook his shoulder, shit, did he fall asleep standing up?  

“Daniel,” Clockwork’s hand was still on his shoulder, practically holding him up at this point, “you can always sleep here.”

Danny shook his head, “I don’t have time-”

“Daniel,” Clockwork interrupted, his expression flat.

Oh right.

“I don’t want to…” he tried, “It’s just, you already help me all the time, you’ve fixed so many of my stupid mistakes and-” and Danny was tired of being a burden. He was tired in general, but ancients was he tired of that specifically.

He was tired of seeing his friends lose sleep to help him as back up, he was tired of constantly having to go behind his parents backs and lie to their faces he was tired of watching as Jazz’s once perfect grades started slipping just enough because of all the time she spent helping Danny with his and he was especially tired of knowing that he wasn’t worth the effort in the first place.

Not if he could turn into that .

But Clockwork didn’t let go of his shoulder, in fact, he pulled him closer into a hug, a real, full hug like the ones he used to get from his parents before they started wearing their weapons and he was scared to get near them. “I’d rather you slept here than wandered around the realms half asleep. Who knows where you’d end up,” he said, speaking gently into Danny’s hair.

“You would,” Danny said before losing the battle against another yawn and relaxing fully into Clockwork’s arms. “You know everything. Can I really sleep here?”

“Of course,” Clockwork released him, leaving one hand on Danny’s back to guide him to a staircase he hadn’t ever noticed before. Just how big was this clock tower anyways?

The room Clockwork took him to was a little bigger than the one he had at home and nothing like what Danny had expected. Most of the tower was colored with dark purples and muted greens, with the occasional brush of silver or brass from the multitude of gears and cogs that littered the floors and walls. This room however, was full of dark blues and greys, a swirling galaxy floating above a single full sized bed that Danny easily sunk into when Clockwork led him to it.

He blinked up at the stars, they were perfectly accurate to the night sky above Amity Park if it didn’t have the light pollution and had to stop himself from counting every constellation rendered there in perfect detail or he’d fall asleep just like that without even bothering to thank Clockwork for offering to stop time for him.

“You made me a room.” It should have been obvious, of course, but Danny hadn’t fully processed what the room and it’s decorations meant until he’d said it out loud and Clockwork didn’t even try to deny it.

Clockwork fazed the blankets through Danny in order to pull them over him properly, tucking him in. Danny was almost tempted to ask for a bedtime story, just to see how he’d react. “Yes, I made you a room.”

Danny frowned, he didn’t understand, “why?”

“I suppose it’s a bit of an excuse to have you visit more often,” Clockwork said, ruffling his hair before sitting at the foot of the bed, “and an offer for you to get some proper sleep before you sleepwalk into someone else’s lair and I have to fight for custody.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Danny mumbled into the pillow, his eyes drifting shut.

The last thing he heard before he drifted off was a soft chuckle and a gentle reassurance that he needn’t worry about anything like that just yet. Maybe, if someone like Clockwork could see the absolute worst of Danny, the monster he could become, and still care enough to make him a room and be sure he slept, then maybe Danny couldn’t be as terrible a burden as he thought. Surely Clockwork, who could see all the futures stretched out below him like a parade, wouldn’t waste his efforts if he didn’t think Danny was worth the time.

He dreamed of stars and ticking clocks and didn’t worry for once about how soon he’d have to wake up.

[bluejayblueskies]

For the kiss prompt: How about 49 - Before Bed Kiss for JonMartin? Love your writing by the way! I still have some of your fics on my to read list and am very much looking forward to them when I finally have some time to read them 💕

hi hello I am feeling ‘jmart become parents somewhere else’ vibes very strongly in this chili’s tonight. anyway 100% not what this prompt is probably intended to inspire but here we are!

cw for mentions of lingering Eye-related trauma and some canon-typical self-hatred

.

Jon’s awoken by a soft touch to his arm, a small, trembling hand shaking him gently. He blinks a few times to relieve the dryness of his eyes—sleeping with his eyes open has very few perks, and he can’t quite shake that particular habit even after all these years spent in relative peace—and when his vision clears, he sees a round, worried face staring back at him, hazel eyes wide and unblinking.

 “Masie,” he says, voice still groggy with sleep, and he scrubs a hand across his eyes a few times before reaching out and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “What- what’s wrong?”

 “I had a nightmare,” Masie says, her voice tight and scared. “The- the one with the eyes.”

 “Oh,” Jon says, a familiar thrum of anxiety bringing him fully awake. He shifts into a half-seated position and says, “It’s- it’s okay, Masie, they… they can’t hurt you. It’s just a dream.”

 It’s true. It… it’s just a dream. The first time Masie had described the nightmare, her face buried in Jon’s chest as he’d hugged her close, he’d nearly flinched at her description of thousands of eyes, always watching no matter how much she tried to hide from them. Later, he’d shaken apart in Martin’s arms, gasping into the fabric of Martin’s shirt, it’s my fault, I’ve hurt our daughter, I’m a monster.

 Martin had whispered back, it’s not your fault, they’re just dreams, you love her, you would never hurt her.

They’re just dreams, Jon had told himself, over and over again. The skies above them are blue and he doesn’t need statements anymore to survive and he hasn’t Known anything in years and years and she’s just afraid, in the normal, non-supernatural way.

 He hadn’t been able to stop himself from asking, once, when Masie had crawled into bed with them and pressed her face into Jon’s shoulder, if she felt safe with them. It was a ridiculous question to ask a child, and he wanted to take the words back as soon as they’d left him, but Masie had simply curled closer to him and said, matter-of-factly, “Yeah? That’s a silly question, Dad.”

 “Yes,” Jon had said with a small smile. “I- I suppose it is, isn’t it?”

 Jon’s still not entirely convinced that it’s not his fault, somehow. That he hadn’t left some corrupted part of himself within her when she’d been born, startlingly quiet as she’d sat in his arms and stared up at him with wide, curious eyes and curled her hand around his thumb with surprising strength. But he tells himself now that even if it is, it doesn’t matter, because he can’t change what’s happened. He can’t control Masie’s dreams, but he can let her slip under the covers beside him and he can press a soft kiss to the top of her head and tell her that it’s okay. That they’re just dreams, and she’s safe with them.

 She does so now, clambering clumsily over his legs and jabbing a particularly bony knee into his side as she situates herself between him and Martin. She must jostle Martin as well, because he makes a groggy noise before cracking one eye open reluctantly, his nose wrinkling in confusion. “Jon?” he says, voice rough with sleep. “What’s… what’s going…”

 He finally takes notice of the presence of a third body in the bed, and his mouth forms a small O. He blinks away a bit of the lingering sleep and says, quietly, “Oh, Masie, honey. Did you have another nightmare?”

 Masie burrows her face into the pillow and nods, little hands gripping the duvet and pulling it up to her chin.

 Eyes, Jon mouths silently at Martin, gesturing vaguely to his own to further get the point across.

 Oh, Martin mouths in reply, his face twisting into an apologetic expression before he turns back to Masie and takes one of her hands in his, squeezing it gently. “Do you want me to make you some hot chocolate?”

 Masie hesitates a moment before shaking her head, tangling strands of curly brown hair around her ears as she does so. “Wanna go to sleep,” she says, punctuating her words with a yawn.

 “Okay,” Martin says, and he squeezes Masie’s hand once more before letting go. “It is quite past your bedtime, after all,” he continues teasingly. “Can’t have you forming any bad habits.”

 Masie giggles and says, “I’m going to be nocturnal! Like a- an owl, or a mouse, or…” Her nose scrunches as she thinks, and after a moment, she says, “A civet!”

 “Oh?” Martin says, raising an eyebrow at Jon. “I wonder where you learned that word from.”

 “Ha ha,” Jon says, not without fondness, before lying back down in bed and scooting close to Masie, nestling her between him and Martin. “It’s not that obscure of an animal, Martin.”

 Martin makes a noise of amusement before leaning over to press a quick kiss against Jon’s nose. “Mm, it is, actually. But of course, you’re right—this is essential knowledge.”

 “It is,” Jon says primly, before laying a soft, chaste kiss on Martin’s lips.

 “Gross,” Masie says, turning her head to frown at Jon in a way that she almost certainly learned from Martin.

 Jon lets out a quiet, breathy laugh. “Sorry,” he says, giving Masie a soft kiss on the forehead, right up against her hairline. “Let’s go to sleep now, yes?”

 Masie’s mouth cracks open wide with another yawn. She snuggles deeper into the sheets and makes a sound that sounds a bit like uh huh but could just as easily be ‘m tired.

 Martin’s hand finds Jon’s, and he rubs his thumb over Jon’s knuckles before threading their fingers together and resting their joined hands lightly on the duvet between them. Jon can feel the gentle rise and fall of Masie’s chest, and an intense, warm affection floods him all at once, leaving him breathless.

 He gives Martin a small smile, mouths I love you, and closes his eyes, letting the feeling of quiet, domestic bliss lull him back to sleep.

[five-rivers]

Loved Chapter 5

Sort of wanted to do something more elaborate with this, but it just wasn't happening. Meh.

.

“But you aren’t really real, are you?”

Tucker’s question killed the mood fast than a bullet. Danny and Sam stared at him from their side of the blanket nest.

“You want to rephrase that?” asked Sam, glaring, arms crossed.

“Uh,” said Tucker, sweat starting to form on his upper lip. “I mean, clearly you’re real, just… maybe not entirely physical? You, it’s,” he made a sort of twisting gesture with one of his hands. “People who aren’t from here can’t see you. They can’t even touch you. That sort of implies that you’re not on the same level of reality as them.” He shrugged. “You call the other place the Dream, right? Maybe you’re in, like, a kind of daydream or something.”

Danny twisted a corner of a blanket in his hands. “No,” he said.

“Danny,” started Tucker.

“No,” repeated Danny. “I can’t—” He noticed he was breathing heavily, his eyes unfocused enough that he could see—No. “Tucker, I don’t—I don’t think I even have free will anymore.” No matter how much he Loved Clockwork and craved Love in return, no matter how glad he was that the dark future would never come to pass, that grated at times. “I need—” He gulped air.

(Before, if he was this panicked, his heart would be thundering in his chest. Now, it was far too quiet.)

Sam put a hand on his back, steadying. Tucker reached out, too, but hesitated, unsure.

“I need to be real,” he said. He needed to still exist, still be human, at least in part. He couldn’t lose that, too. No matter what else he might gain.

“You are real,” said Tucker. “I’m sorry, I—” He cursed lightly under his breath, “—I wasn’t thinking. It’s just… Maybe something you should think about. Maybe—Maybe you aren’t coming completely out of… I don’t know. Wherever you go.”

“Maybe,” said Danny, struggling to get his breathing back under control. “Maybe. I just. Not right now.”

“Okay,” said Tucker. “Yeah. What were we talking about before?”

“Who cares?” asked Sam. “Let’s watch a movie.”

“That sounds good,” said Danny.

.

Danny woke up first the next morning, which was somewhat unusual. Sam was definitely a night-owl, but Tucker woke up fairly early. He stepped over them, feet silent on the floor. Almost as if they weren’t really there.

He shook his head. Not now.

He went to the bathroom and took care of things slowly, deliberately, as if to impress upon his body that he was human.

Sam and Tucker still weren’t awake when he came back. Also, when he thought about it, the rest of the house was eerily silent as well.

No… There was music. Was that coming from outside? He closed his eyes to listen better and caught himself drifting off while standing.

That was abnormal. He knelt and shook Sam and Tucker’s shoulders. They didn’t stir.

Someone was here. And they were here without Danny knowing. That was bad. That was really bad.

He went to his parents’ room. They were asleep, too.

There was a nonzero possibility that he was the only one awake. (Assuming he had ever been awake in the first place and not, as Tucker put it, daydreaming.)

He went out, following the music. Music suggested Ember, but this didn’t seem to be her style. She preferred motion, energy, vibrance. This was quieter, subtler.

Then again, none of the others made sense.

(At least, Danny liked to pretend they didn’t.)

The music wasn’t louder outside, but it was clearer. The scent of something sweet floated on the air. Something warm. Like honey.

Was something buzzing?

Danny shook his head again, forcing himself back into awareness. Maybe he should try and figure out what was going on from inside the Dream. It wasn’t possible to fall asleep there. At least, Danny never had.

(Assuming he wasn’t always partially in the Dream, like Tucker said.)

On the other hand, it often helped to observe what was going on in the real world, on the surface of things, before diving. As messy as fights could be in the real world, winning them in the Dream was harder.

He forged on, periodically pinching himself. He wasn’t the only one on the streets, but he was the only one on the streets that wasn’t passed out. It looked like there had been some car crashes.

That’s when he saw her.

She stood in the middle of an intersection, looking away from him. She was built like a centaur, except the lower part of her body more closely resembled a massive deer than a horse. An elk, perhaps. Both her deer-portion and her human-portion had night-black skin, studded with white stars. Antlers curved and branched above her curly hair. A crown of red flowers sat on her head. She wore no other clothes.

Danny did not notice any of this at first. No, what first jumped out at him was the unmistakable chain of Love binding him to her and vice versa.

He’d never met anyone like this, so—

She turned to face Danny. But she didn’t have a face. She had a mask. A well-made mask that had both eye-holes and a mouth with lips that seemed to curve. It was also covered with pulsing, swirling, hypnotic patterns. Black and white chased each other across the mask, not respecting the mask’s physical curves.

Danny could feel his mind start to go fuzzy. Felt the ground go soft under him as he sank into the Dream. A distant part of him wanted to look away, but the rest of him could only blink slowly, captivated.

“Come,” she said in a fascinating combination of an out-loud voice and a True Voice, tugging lightly on the chain that attached Danny to her.

Danny complied, trotting out into the intersection. When he was most of the way there, she turned away again.

“Follow,” she ordered.

Danny did, vaguely noting how rapidly the sidewalks and concrete buildings of Amity Park flowed into smoothly rolling hills covered in grass and flowers. The air grew heavier. Hotter. The perfume of the flowers combined with the buzzing of the bees and the gentle music served to make Danny even drowsier than before.

Still, he could hardly nod off in this situation, walking behind her, Love connecting them.

Sluggishly, belatedly, a name came to mind. “Nocturne,” he said. The name tasted like milk and honey, like chamomile tea, like sleep. She stopped and inclined her head slightly towards him. “You’re different from before.”

“We haven’t met,” she said. Then she turned more fully, the lips on her mask curving into a smile. “Has our parent been showing you Dreams of me? Perhaps I looked more like this.” She changed, her body warping before Danny’s eyes to become an impossibly tall man completely covered in starry black robes. Except, of course, for his mask and curved, ram-like horns. “This is as good a place as any, I suppose.”

Danny nodded, not quite sure what he was agreeing to, and looked around. Amity Park was nowhere in sight. The hills were a little lumpy, as if the grass and moss were growing over oddly shaped rocks.

“Let’s sit,” said Nocturn, lowering himself elegantly to the ground.

Danny followed, movements clumsy and blurred by sleep. He blinked, and found his hands occupied by a large mug. He looked up at Nocturne. Had he given this to Danny, or…?

Nocturne smiled. Danny looked away, not feeling like getting caught in the hypnotic swirls of his mask again. There was something off about those rocks under the grass. Something about their shape…

Then he saw it and inhaled sharply through his teeth.

Bodies. They were bodies. Still breathing, but…

He looked back at Nocturne. He’d known Nocturne was being too nice to him. He was new to being other, but not new to being a younger sibling. Older siblings only acted like this when they had set up everything in their favor. When they wanted something.

Even knowing this, he struggled to keep his eyes open. Could he fall asleep in the Dream?

“What are you doing to them?” he asked. “How do I wake them up.”

Nocturne hummed. “I have an idea. Play a game with me, sibling, and I’ll tell you.”

“What kind of game?”

“You ask me a question, and for every answer I give you, I get something from you.”

“Like, an answer from me,” said Danny, trying to clarify his position, “or something else?”

Nocturne’s smile showed teeth.

“If I play this game,” said Danny, “I have to be able to say when it ends.” He didn’t want to be dancing around conversational pitfalls every time he interacted with Nocturne, after all. They were siblings.

(And though Love was not trust, it was Love. And Love was undeniable.)

“Of course,” agreed Nocturne, easily.

“Alright, then,” said Danny. He adjusted his grip on the mug.

The grass was crawling. He blinked, hard, and shook his head, dislodging two bees that had landed on his ear.

“How do I wake them up?” he asked.

“You can’t,” said Nocturne.

Danny paused, waiting for Nocturne to take what he wanted.

“You have other questions.”

“Aren’t you going to take something from me, for the question?”

“Yes, I am.”

Danny pursed his lips, realizing he had just wasted a question.

“If I can’t wake them, who or what can?”

“I could. Or they could wake themselves.”

Danny mulled over what that could mean. He had no idea where to start with the second part, but the first…

“What would I have to do, to get you to wake them?”

“You—”

The chain around Danny’s neck went taut, pulling him through the fabric of the Dream at breakneck speeds. He was in Clockwork, his sibling behind him.

You must not bully your sibling, my dear. I have enough love for both of you. You do not need to be jealous.

Danny swayed. Now that so much of the tension between him and Nocturne was gone, he was no longer able to use it to support his wakefulness.

Drink your milk, little Love. You’ll be able to find your friends.

Danny nodded sleepily and tipped the mug back. He didn’t remember what happened after that.

.

“Hundreds of Amity Park citizens are still in comas as health officials race to find the cause of the mysterious event. Some say that gas leaks are to…”

Danny tuned out the TV and glared at his cereal. He knew he had fallen asleep in the Dream and had done something, but the memory was beyond him. Maybe whatever it had been was beyond an even partially human mind.

Or whatever kind of mind Danny had.

His fingers twitched. He was going to go down again later today, to see if Clockwork would help him find everyone else. If they could be found at all. He didn’t want to. He was angry. Angry that this had happened, that it was still happening. Amity Park was his, and Nocturne had no right to try and steal and break and—

The terrible part, was that even though he was angry, his general desire to reach out to Nocturne, to lean on their Love… That had not diminished.

He looked forward to seeing them again.

The news continued to talk about the coma victims.

[kkusuka]

I have a cool request :3 Hawks, Eraserhead, Dabi, and (Idk of you do other characters like Bakugo) with an s/o that has a black barn owl quirk. She’s an intelligent, sweet, and quiet person since said owls act like that. In human form, she has large eyes for night vision and looks cute as hell,sharp talons when she flexes her hand, can flap her arms to make wings appear, can fully turn her head all the way around and tilt it upside down, and can chirp when excited or screech when pissed. She can turn into a giant owl and carry multiple people and can ram hella hard into people/walls to inflict damage. Owls may be cute but they can be scary as hell with their loud screech and when a shadow covers their eyes enough to look like black sockets.

I’d love head cannons of these guys reacting to her turning her head all the way around when they call her or when her eyes become black sockets when she becomes pissed enough

i love owls SO MUCH

and i write for literally any character lol

i had fun doing this one <3

Hawks

This is love at first sight, as he claims you “flew down from the heavens”

He immediately wanted to see anything and everything that you can do

From the first time he saw them, he was hypnotized by your wings

They were so beautiful

During the beginning of your relationship, he would make you fly along with him to do the most random things.

Apparently, a sleepy Hawks is a forgetful Hawks

So when he called your name to ask if you had any food for him, and you turned your head a whole 180, he screamed like a child

He thought he was having a bad dream where everyone was a demon, he was so panicked that he called Endeavor

It took 5 minutes for it to hit him, you had an owl quirk

Owls can do that, yeah you were swarmed with apologies for the next hour.

After that, he truly thought he knew everything about you and your quirk!

You couldn’t surprise him with anything!

Yes, you actually could, and he learned this when he watched you add one of your “closest”  friends argue

That was an entire experience of its own

He’ll be honest, seeing your eyes go completely black was kinda scary at first and the screeches you let out were hurting his ears at first

None of that compared to how hot he thought you looked, and knowing his Babybird had a backbone was even hotter ;)

Aizawa Shouta

You two probably were paired up for a rescue mission and hit it off almost instantly

I am a firm believer that is he liked cats, he likes the nocturnal bunch

It’s just how that works

He already thought you were totally impressive when you sprouted wings

But you looked even cooler caring 6 people to safety, on your first trip

After that, he was just “really curious” about what you could do

As in he wanted to get to know you better

After figuring out you could turn fully into an owl, he wanted to play a prank on class A

Hw would take you to class in owl form, and then in the middle of class, you would turn back!

The prank got a good scare out of most of the class, then Deku started with the questions, you were a pro hero after all

You even demonstrated how your head moves sound and how you use your talons without hurting civilians

Needless to day Tokoyami enjoyed it

Having an owl quirk, you didn't focus much of your time on combat, but you couldn't stand by while villains hurt innocent civilians

This was the first time not only Aizawa saw you pissed, but it was also almost everyone's first time seeing you pissed

And damn, you were terrifying

But you did prove yourself to be someone villains shouldn't mess with

And from then on, Aizawa couldn't wait to see everything else you could do <3

Dabi

He thought you were fucking cool

You had met on the street, where he was bleeding, so you flew him to your apartment and sewed him up

He interrogated you about your quirk for like 3 hours before trying to recruit you to the league, you really didn't have anything else to do so you agreed

And that began the reign of terror, you were powerful and you were “not that hard to look at”

And you were the perfect person that he could use to prank the other members of the LOV

Aka Shiggy

He didn't tell anyone what your quirk was, so when he brought you he had to sit next to Toga at the end of the bar

While he sat next to Shigaraki on the couch behind you

You can see where this is going right?

He called your name, made sure Shiggy was looking, and you freaked him the fuck out

He scREAMED-

He threw his game controller on the floor and looked away

So from then on Dabi was convinced you were perfect for him

He did anything he could to make you squeak and squeal, he never tells you but he thinks you sound so cute!

You were also his break-in buddy! The second he found out you could break down walls, the two of you were practically inseparable

Everything was going amazing!

Until he got badly injured in a bar fight with some random men, and that was the first time he had ever seen you so angry

You had grown your talons and your eyes were void of color, it was scary

Usually, he liked when you squealed but you just sounded so angry, the only thing that calms you down was promising that he wouldn’t do it EVER again

He’s just really obsessed with you at this point, so he isn't going to let you go anytime soon

(or ever)

Bakugo

He was yelling in the hallway, as usual, and he saw you turn your head to look at him

And he was really confused, like reallllllyyyy confused

And after questioning (threatening) other students about you, he decided that you were a threat to him becoming number one

And he couldn't have that, so he cornered you in a classroom after class one day, he hadn’t even said anything before he found himself unable to speak

Why?

1- you had let out the most adorable squeal he’d ever heard in his life

2- you were waaaay prettier up close then you were from afar, and even then you were petty

This guy was frozen for a minute before demanding your name and any known fact about your quirk.

This lead to an exchange of numbers and eventually a clearly romantic friendship

He was entranced by how your quirk, and just you in general

But this is Bakugo, he’s hot-headed and protective, basically, he treats you like a doll

This leads to arguments, and at that point, you were totally pissed at him!

You had shut him down!

He didn't want to say it but you looked kinda cute when you were angry, BUT HE WAS LISTENING TO YOU

And he did lighten up, but he still riles you up to see you like that, it makes him feel like his sweet little baby could make herself so scary

And that just makes him even more sure that you two are perfect for each other

[anoutlandishfanfic]

Metamorphosis Chapter 27: Nesting

Huzzah!! I’m so excited to finally bring you Chapter 27!! You can catch up on where we left off in Ch26 HERE (since its been awhile), or head on over to the master list. Metamorphosis is also up to date at AO3!

The Premise: What if Claire had conceived on her wedding night with Jamie? How would that change the plot points we all know and love?

Ch27 fits in the Season One finale episode of the show, or towards the end of the book timeline. Claire and Jamie have OFFICIALLY left Scotland’s shores and are on their way to safety in France!

Claire. Midday, February 21st, 1744; Somewhere in the English Channel

I shifted cautiously on the outrageously uncomfortable crate my husband had deposited me on, trying not to make any noise, but it creaked and groaned just as much as my aching joints were at present — tattling my discomfort to Jamie, who I swore had batlike hearing.

“I have the bucket jus’ here,” Jamie commented cautiously from somewhere behind me, alluding to the fact that I had absolutely nothing left in my stomach after several bouts with the receptacle.

“Do ye need it again?”

“No,” I bit out as the muscles in my lower back spasmed, a band tightening around my waist with an increasingly bothersome intensity.

What I needed was to move around… to be able to stretch my stiff limbs and appease my offended muscles. I voiced this suggestion — a slow turn about the room with assistance — and a sudden, Scottish noise of amused non-committance sounded from my left.

Snapping my head in Murtagh’s direction, I found him bracing his weight casually against a post, one arm raised as he held onto a beam just above his head. The ship heaved just then and I could see the tendons in his wrist tighten as he steadied himself.

He caught my gaze and lifted brow as if to say ye’d fall on yer arse in a moment, lass.

I sighed, abandoning his support and craned my neck in search of my husband. The room was dim and stacked high with crates and bundles, easy enough to lose track of a bored yet always curious Jamie.

He’d made no comment in support or negation of my request, but was currently choosing to remain out of sight.

“What are you up to over there, anyway?” I eventually huffed when it became clear that neither of them had any intention of helping me.

“Ach, tis nothin’,” he tried to dismiss my attention, which piqued Murtagh’s in turn and drew the older man to his side like a magnet.

“Just a wee bit of putterin’ to pass the time is all.”

An amused sound of delight came from the elder of my two companions and I heard him slap Jamie on the back… hard.

Making no effort to hide my amusement, I heard my husband begin to protest the joyful abuse befallen him but his words were interrupted by Murtagh’s enthusiastic, “Now how’d ye manage that, ye wee fiend?!”

There was an exchange of heated Gaelic conversation — so overlapped that I was confident I’d have a hard time following even if they were speaking English — and then I quite suddenly found myself being lifted by my elbows and carted off to the other side of the room!

I objected strongly as my hips screamed in protest at their pace and was about to dig my heels in and balk completely when we came to a screeching halt before what looked remarkably like a bed.

“How the bloody fucking hell—“ my voice broke and I stared down at my husband’s miracle in disbelief, then turned to look up at him in awe.

“God, I love you, James Fraser.”

Murtagh cackled with glee at this and Jamie bent his head to kiss me in support of my declaration. I expected a quick peck on the cheek or a rather brief smooch on the lips — we didn’t exactly have the room to ourselves — but was taken aback by a kiss that made a thrumming warmth begin to grow between my legs. The heat spread across my hips and up my spine, loosening my muscles and made me feel quite suddenly completely and utterly exhausted.

I sighed as he pulled away, inquiring, “When can I crawl in?”

“Now if ye like,” one shoulder rose in a shrug and Jamie explained his construction plans. “That is, if ye dinna mind us building a wee fence around ye.”

“A fence?” I stared up at him incredulously.

“Oh, aye!” This came from Murtagh. “We canna have ye rollin’ aboot, now can we?”

Jamie caught the glare that his godfather missed entirely — being that he stood between the two of us — and bit his lip in a failed effort not to betray the mirth that clearly bubbled up inside him.

“Think of it more as a wee nest than a paddock, Sassenach,” he chose his words more carefully, then realized he quite liked them and patted my arm rather patronizingly. “A wee nest for my mother hennie, aye?”

“As long as I’m not a wallowing sow,” I grumbled, making Jamie choke in an effort to conceal a laugh.

This assuaged me a good deal and I felt myself smile a bit as I prodded him in the ribs, “Are you going to help me with my shoes or am I to track mud all over your beautiful nest?”

Jamie perched me on a nearby crate and knelt to shed me of my shoes. There wasn’t much to the flimsy things and what they were composed of was now completely sodden in mud and sea water that they all but fell off my feet with his guidance. He set them neatly aside and began to rub my aching feet, bringing warmth and a rush of blood back into the extremities with a burning pins and needles sensation.

I winced and his face contorted in contrition.

“Christ, I’m sorry, a leannan,” he crooned, keeping up his blessed work. “Ye deserve a proper bed and a fire ragin’ in the hearth…  no’ this lumpy mess wi’ barely even a plaid to keep ye warm.”

Reaching out my hand, I brushed the curls from his brow and cupped his cheek in my palm, “You know I’m not above sleeping on the ground.”

Though I thanked my lucky stars it wouldn’t come to that just now.

“And I have you to keep me warm,” I nudged him with my toe, making Murtagh cough behind me.

Jamie gave him a look, but his gaze softened as it returned to me, “Aye, well, I only wish I could give ye more.”

My hand moved to the place where one of the baby's heels pressed sharply against my side and I reached for him. His hand moved to mine, slipping beneath it to feel the life within.

“You’ve given me more than I could ever dream,” I whispered hoarsely.

…

Jamie.

“Lay with me?”

The flicker of uncertainty in Claire’s eyes cut me to the quick.

Did she really think I wouldn’t?

Nodding, I made quick work of my own filthy shoon and dropped them beside the entrance to the cove of safety Murtagh and I had built for her.

Her wee nest.

The thought warmed me and brought a smile to my lips as I gingerly crawled in beside my wife.

“Always, mo nighean donn,” I assured her, arranging the plaid around us both as I curved my form around hers.

It dawned on me in an instant that it wasn’t my presence she doubted… it was her ability to fall asleep. She looked dog tired and pale as any winter’s snow, but now that I had her in my arms, her restless spirit was made clear.

Claire shifted her hips, first this way then another, always finding it unsuitable and moving back… then tried adjusting her head and shoulders, first moving closer to me — I received a an accidental elbow to the ribs but didn’t comment — then away again, all without success until she was left completely spent and utterly exhausted.

I had loosened my arms around her, giving her full range of motion to seek the best position for sleep, but now that I knew this was an impossible task — I thought I might have a try.

Pulling her close without ceremony, I tucked her head neatly beneath my chin and curled my knees up to surround her completely. I felt the taut muscles of her back and shoulders begin to loosen against my chest as I twined my fingers between hers, our clasped hands resting gently atop the swell of our children.

A deep, shuddering sigh left her and I knew she’d not last much longer. I squeezed her hand gently, whispering, “I’ve got you, Sorcha… you can rest now, all is well.”

Another ripple of fatigue ran down her spine, her muscles slowly succumbing to the heavy weight of slumber and becoming limp. The vice grip on my forearm loosened, her head slipping back and resting fully against my arm. Her lips parted softly in that first sigh of sleep — in the way of hers that I found so irresistible — and I knew she’d not wake for anything save the second coming of Christ Himself.

I tucked a stray curl back into place behind her ear, brushing a kiss across her cheek, and settled myself more comfortably beside her.

My eyelids were growing heavier and heavier as I caught sight of my godfather. He’d positioned himself between us and the door, far enough away as to give us a measure of privacy but close enough to respond to a call for assistance at the drop of a hat. Everything about his rigid posture made me lose my resolve to stay alert beside my wife and sleep came crashing down around my ears.

It was a shallow, dreamless slumber — the sort where you know you mustn’t drift too far, should you need to be fully wakeful again — and I didn’t think I’d been out long before Claire began to stir in my arms.

She curled inwards, her knees tucking up tight against the swell of our children as a low groan escaped her lips.

The nightmare.

We were each cursed with our own nocturnal demons, but my wife found hers to manifest themselves in reoccurring dreams... the most prominent and prevalent being the one born in the depths of Crainsmuir’s Thieves Hole. It hadn’t stopped twisting and turning in these many months and I would be lying if I said my blood didn’t run cold when she’d tell me of the night’s latest development, sobbing into my chest as though both the bairns and I were truly gone.

“Shh, mo chridhe,” I murmured low, curving myself around her. “Tis but a dream… I’ve got ye.”

Her entire body tensed and her eyelids flickered, but she didn’t wake.

Sweeping away the curls from her brow, I gently brushed my finger along the curve of her cheek, intoning, “Ye’re safe, Sorcha.”

Claire’s eyes opened at her name, yet stared ahead unseeing. The muscles of her jaw worked as she clenched it tight and a short burst of air left her nose in a decided snort. Her hands moved restlessly, reaching for me but then drifting back to her stomach, only to roam up and down and nearly every direction at once.

I covered one hand with my own, twining my fingers through hers — not speaking again, but letting her know I was aware of her turmoil.

Her head snapped towards me at my touch, her eyes widening as wheezed, “Jamie!”

“Aye,” I shifted onto one elbow, bringing my face directly above hers as I hovered above her. “I’m right here… I’ve got you.”

She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut again without comment.

Was she fully conscious?

“Claire?” I tested, gazing down at her in concern as her jaw clenched tight.

She didn’t open her eyes so much as a crack but let out a grumbled fuck from between persed lips. I dropped her hand, my own flying to her face. Her eyes did open then at my touch, ever so slightly, and she peered up at me in agony.

Something was terribly wrong.

“Talk to me, Claire,” I begged, my heart racing.

Shoving me away, she thumped the narrow space in front of her and groaned, “Move over here.”

I scrambled around her, careful not to jostle her from her current position but finding it near impossible to wedge myself between her knees and the wall of crates behind me. Somehow managing to accomplish it, I lay nose to nose with her and could now see her flushed face in startling clarity in our deeply shadowed cocoon.

Her breathing remained ragged, with drops of sweat gathering at her temples as she lay rigid in my arms.

“Tell me wha’ to do, mo nighean donn.”

“Make it stop,” her voice cracked, the jagged edge of her supplication knifing across my heart and flaying me wide before her.

My mind spun as my thumb caressed her cheek, wiping away the sudden dampness that I found there. Skimming my hand along her neck and down her spine, I found the fastenings of her skirts and had them free in a moment. I bunched them loosely around her, keeping her warm, but no longer restricting her. I moved to do the same for her stays, but found she’d already started the process.

Pulling the strings completely free, I flung the constricting thing to the side and took her face in my hands.

“A wee bit better?” I tentatively asked, knowing it was nothing compared to the turmoil inside her.

She didn’t respond, having instead retreated miles within herself in the time it took me to undress her, and I did the only thing I could think of to retrieve her.

Kissing her softly to begin with — not wanting to jar her and giving her full opportunity to refuse me — I cupped her cheek in my palm. She shifted, seeking more of me, and I grew more confident in my ministrations.

I slid my fingers into her hair and slowly gathered each pin, intently undoing the neatly coiffed style she’d worked so hard on this morn as I worked to rid the tension from her body. Setting my bounty aside, my hands traveled back down to her hips, digging my thumbs into the muscles that I knew continually plagued her.

A moan bubbled up from deep within her and I knew I was moving in the right direction.

“Aye, tha’s the way,” I crooned as her arms slipped around my neck, her nose nuzzling my cheek.

“Damn it, Jamie,” she sobbed against me. “It hurts.”

I didn’t comment, but nodded and kissed her again, keeping my hands moving as well. A shudder ran down her spine as she nearly swallowed me whole, finding suddenly a respite — an ability to draw from me that which she needed.

And I was only too eager to give it.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her arms loosened around my neck...the taut muscles beneath my fingertips became lax and Claire became limp once more in my arms.

“A dhia, mo chridhe,” I sighed, my lips moving against her neck, “ye scared the life near out of me.”

I felt her groan, her voice dry as she quipped, “Well, it was no picnic for me either, you bloody Scot.”

A measure of relief washed over me, hearing her vocal jab, but reality still hung heavy in the air.

“Tha’ was different, Sorcha,” I whispered hoarsely, my good fingers splaying wide across the curve of her children. “The other pains ye had at the Abbey… they were’na like that.”

Her grip on my arm tightened as she tipped her head back, needing to see my face as much as I needed to see hers. Lifting one hand to my face, her fingers deftly traced my cheek bone, her eyes gazing deep into mine. They were now free from the fog of pain, but instead of clarity, I found agonized turmoil.

I covered her hand with my own, curling my fingers around it as I turned my face to place a kiss in her palm.

…

Claire.

How I longed to close my eyes and slip back into that blessed, deep slumber in my husband’s arms… but every inch of me was now wide awake, whether I liked it or not.

I was now having bonafide contractions… whether I liked it or not.

Swallowing hard, I felt a shudder run down my spine and Jamie instinctively pulled me closer. I did close my eyes then, turning and burying my face in his neck as I hid from his gaze for a moment.

He knew — damn him — without me having to say it out loud. I was rather glad, for I wasn’t entirely sure I could say the word ‘labor’ aloud just now without dissolving into hysterics.

What the bloody hell are you going to do, Beauchamp? I mentally sighed against Jamie’s chest.

Was I really going to have to do this without a midwife? Twice? And while bobbing along in a dingy at sea?!

“Jamie?” my voice cracked, betraying my abject terror.

His hand traveled up my back, lifting to gently curve around the back of my head, “Mo chridhe?”

My mouth opened and shut like a floundering fish, no longer suffocating from the strength of my contraction but the size of my fear. A low rumble started up within him and I knew in an instant he’d heard my unspoken thoughts.

“Aye,” he acknowledged, softly kissed my brow. “But ye canna change things any more than I can make this ship sail faster… although, I’d get out and swim it to France if I thought t’would get ye there faster.”

I couldn't help but smile at that particular image and Jamie must have taken great comfort in it, for he continued.

“Tis my fault, ye ken… I should no’ have taken ye in such a manner last night.”

I snorted, finally moving to look at him once more, “If you recall, James Fraser, I brought you to that pool with the exact purpose of taking you in such a manner… so don’t you dare apologize for it.”

His shoulders began to shake in suppressed laughter and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Care to share what’s so funny?” I poked him in the ribs.

“You are Sassenach,” he grinned, easily taking hold of both my hands to prevent future attacks and squeezed them gently. “Ye’ve never wanted me so badly… or so openly as ye did last night.”

“Oh,” I commented quite lamely, finding myself blushing for the first time in quite a while.

This made my husband laugh all the harder and I resorted to kicking him in the shins as he currently had possession of my hands.

“Will you help me sit up or are you just going to lie there and find humor in my depraved state?” I quipped, raising a brow.

Jamie eagerly agreed to this and dropped my hands, easily moving himself into a seated position before guiding me into the same. I sat beside him, swaying slightly, and realized a half a moment later that we were completely alone in the captain’s quarters.

“Where’s Murtagh?” an uneasy feeling began to grow in the pit of my stomach as I asked.

“Tis nothin, Sassenach,” Jamie tried to reassure me, but it was clear that he wasn’t overly comfortable with his godfather’s absence either. “Jus checkin’ in wi’ the Captain is all… he’ll ken how long til we reach Le Havre when he gets back.”

The urgent, persistent twinge started up again at the base of my spine and I swore under my breath.

“Too long,” I pronounced, reaching for Jamie’s arm and taking a firm hold of it.

He studied me for a moment, then nodded and took a deep breath.

“Then we’ll take it one step at a time… aye?” His hand covered mine, “Together.”

...

Murtagh. A Good Deal Later.

The door swung closed behind me with a solid bang, shutting out a snowy stramash unlike any I’d ever seen. The warmth of the Captain’s quarters rolled over me like the tumultuous sea outside its walls and I sagged against the door for a moment, letting it thaw my fingers and tip of my nose.

Hrmph, I snorted, wiping the dripping appendage on my sleeve and ridding myself of near an inch of snow and ice.

“Tis jus’ me,” I greeted, unable to see them from the room’s one and only entrance.

I heard movement and subdued voices, but no answer to my call. Frowning, I quickly navigated my way around boxes and crates until I reached them — and stopped dead in my tracks.

“Iffrin,” I muttered as I took in the pile of Claire’s discarded clothes and found her in nothing but her shift and Jamie’s plaid, clinging to him as if life itself depended on it.

Her time had come.

I raked a hand across my face and sank down onto the closest crate. It was lower to the floor than I thought, making it seem as though it weren’t there at all, and a wheezing oof left my lips as my hind end finally found it.

When I looked up, both Jamie and Claire were gazing at me with no small amount of amusement. I disregarded my godson’s jesting smile with ease and instead turned my attention to the young woman who had stolen both our hearts.

Her face was pale, with furrows etched deep in the usually smooth plane of her brow. The spark of amusement in her eyes was dwindling quickly and in its place grew a consuming agony that I couldn’t bear to see.

“Yer pains have begun, then, mo leannan?” I asked unnecessarily, my voice hitching at the endearment she’d earned in our time together.

Claire nodded, trying to give me her best attempt at a smile. It wobbled and faded as she pressed her forehead against Jamie’s, her eyes sliding shut as she commented hoarsely, “They seem to be in a hurry.”

My heart turned over, skipping a beat before clattering on again as I heard the Captain’s words echo in my mind.

We’ll be lucky to find Le Havre at all in this storm… twould be another day a’ least on fair seas, but now? Best be prayin tha’ my men dinna toss yer lady overboard to appease Neptune himself.

Jamie’s gaze found mine again, this time much more subdued, and asked, “What’d ye learn, then?”

I lifted one shoulder and tried to wave him off. It was nothing I wanted to share while Claire was in such a state.

“A goistidh?” he insisted, lifting a brow.

Taking his cue, I slipped into the Gaelic, telling him of my conversations with the Captain and his superstitious men. He took it about as well as I had, working to keep his frustrations in check as Claire seemed to regain some composure and alertness.

“I dinna think we’ll make it in time,” Jamie kept his voice even, but his unease was palpable. “We’ll have to help her deliver the bairns.”

While I’d expected as much, his second pronouncement took me completely by surprise and I burst, “We?! Ye canna be serious, lad! She needs a midwife, not a couple of numpties wi’ no idea what they’re about!”

Claire sighed heavily and I realized too late that I’d said that in English. I began to apologize, but she waved me off, interrupting me.

“You may have no idea what you’re about, my dear Murtagh,” she muttered, seeking a comfortable seated position, “but Jamie does because I’ve told him what will need doing… and you’ll listen to him and do as he says, is that clear?”

She’d stopped shifting to spear me with a look that had me agreeing in an instant.

The look of relief on her face was nearly my undoing and I assured her, “I’ll do whatever ye need, mo rùinean beag...  I promise it.”

Claire reached out her hand to me and I plucked it up, brushing a kiss across her knuckles.

“I know you will,” she whispered hoarsely, squeezing my hand. “You always do.”

[wait-up-for-the-moonshine]

Night Elf Headcanons - Home & Family life

These are headcanons for the Kaldorei that I’ve thought up or figured out with for a comic I’ve been working on. So if they are different from more widely accepted headcanons about the same subjects (or contradict them completely) that is why. Still I thought they were worth sharing! I divided them based on subject so I’m not posting them all in one massive wall of text. 

Some parts of these headcanons may already be known and accepted by RPers but I wanted to add some of my own ideas to them as well.

Here’s my headcanons for Kaldorei home and family life!

(creepy Nelf baby knows all your secrets and will expose your entire soul)

They are highly protective of their children and teach them to stay close to home until they become of age. The Night Elves are a reclusive race who have seen a lot of crap go down. They know the world they live in and want to protect their children from it for as long as possible. This usually means that many of them teach their children to stay as close to home as possible and they may keep them hidden away in their glens and meadows and homes. Of course, there is always the wild hair child with an adventurous spirit, but a majority of the children obey and are content to enjoy a quiet childhood and life in their forests studying various subjects. Some Kaldorei may not have left home until they were well into their 100′s. I also like this headcanon as a way to explain Blizzard’s laziness why there are never any really young Night elf NPCs running around. This would also mean that Teldressil was just absolutely FULL of children and young adults and I am honestly trying not to think about it.

Kaldorei who have settled in human cities like Stormwind may adapt to a diurnal schedule. Night elves are obviously nocturnal by genetics, but those who live among other cultures, especially humans, may become more accustom to sleeping at night instead. This can be done to just fit in more and participate within that culture/society in a similar way to every one else who is up during the day, or can be done out of necessity (eg, to get the most out of their profession). 

Any Kaldorei who hunt for food use all parts of the animal and will thank Elune in prayer, for allowing them to capture and kill the animal as sustenance/skin/meat/material.

They celebrate birthnights instead of days. Even if one was born during daylight hours, it is common to celebrate the night of that day the person was born. This is typically celebrated by gift giving and a feast of that person’s favorite foods, and them being surrounded by close family and friends. However because Kaldorei are taught to see one another as family in general, it is certainly not uncommon to see strangers and acquaintances giving gifts and attending birthnight parties.

Joining ceremonies take the place of weddings and most Kaldorei are joined for life. The idea of contractual marriage is a faux pas among the Kaldorei, as it is more focused on possessions and property than the union. They put so much importance in the actual union of two souls, that this bond is tied before Elune herself, and not meant to be broken. Parting ways and splitting up is not seen as wrong since many Night elven couples may go years (decades...centuries) without seeing each other for one reason or another. However, most rejoin as if they had never spent any time away, and typically won’t be out searching for another to love when apart. As far as the actual joining ceremonies go, I fully accept this headcanon for their ceremonies. But not all Night elves even have ceremonies. Some chose to have private meetings between themselves, a priest and druid, all before Elune. 

They exchange necklaces, often with moonstones in them, instead of rings. (as first mentioned here) Necklaces have quite a lot of significance among Night Elven culture, the most important being a symbol of connection between elves in a Joining Ceremony. However, necklaces are important in general for other reasons. Different types of necklaces are given to commemorate friendships, as a “thank you” or as a sign of respect, love, affection, or honor. A Thero or Thero'shan  may gift their Do or Shan’do with a necklace as a tolken of appreciation and respect. Children may also receive necklaces with their owl feather (tokens of good luck given to them at infancy)from their parents or parental guardian when they reach their pre-teen years.

Alcohol is usually saved for specific occasions such as birthnight parties and other celebrations like joining ceremonies, anniversaries, homecomings, new babies, and battle wins. Most do not drink casually.

Some Night elves naturally have more energy and are more alert during daylight hours and fall asleep during evenings and nights. “Morning Dove” Nelfs might often feel out of place among their kin, and may take on careers that accommodate their natural sleep cycle, or live among a diurnal race.

Kaldorei children usually partake in a “first hunt” ceremony where(similar to the first Nelf quest in-game) they learn the importance of the balance of nature and the cycles of life, overpopulation, and the role of the Kaldorei as presumed guardians of the natural order of things. For this ceremony, I coined the term Shand’mushu, or roughly, the “Honor Hunt".

[writing-gifts]

datura (moth!bruno x butterfly!reader)

—–

A/N: a pretty chill chapter!

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

Reader is gender neutral!

—–

[Early Winter]

The first few days at Bruno’s home are disorienting. Your sleep schedule was already poor for a diurnal creature, but staying with the moth was pushing it one step further to full nocturnal. Even when you would try to sleep at night like you were supposed to, the sound of Bruno and Narancia moving throughout the house would sometimes wake you up.

Along with that, where Bruno’s home was located and because of the weather, daylight felt like it lasted a tick within the actual span of the day. You could see but it felt darker than your home on an overcast day. So even though you naturally felt more alert in the day, there was always a tiny feeling of needing to go to sleep within you.

On the brightside, you could spend more time with the moth this way. It had only been a few days but the both of you had gotten closer--in the non-platonic sense--ever since you kissed. You loved it and sometimes it felt too good to be true. But at the same time, even if you try to push it down, you still feel unsure. What exactly were the two of you now? You were partners, right?

You had to be. Now that the fully platonic barrier was gone, you both were always touching. Whether it was holding hands, cuddling or just leaning against one another. And between the flirty quips and the teasing looks, you would kiss...a lot. It was nice.

While thinking about this, you stare out the bedroom’s small window as you lie in bed. Only your face is exposed in the blanket cocoon you put yourself in.

Today you had woken up while there was still light out but were reluctant to actually get up. When you first woke up you literally felt like you couldn’t, but now suddenly the bed felt too empty. And the small image you see of the snow piled up outside makes you rethink staying in bed. It must have snowed a good amount while you were asleep.

You yawn. Abilene momentarily pops into your head and you wonder what they’re up to. They were definitely up way before you that’s for sure. You hope they were keeping extra warm.

It takes a moment but when you finally force yourself out of your covers, you immediately think to go outside. In fact, the alluring and bright beauty of the snow almost has you running out of the house completely unprotected from the cold. You barely stop yourself and head back into Bruno’s room to grab one of your blankets and put on a pair of shoes.

After slipping the simple shoes on, you let your wings droop so you can wrap the blanket around yourself.

You head back to the main room and quietly open the door to avoid waking up either Bruno or Narancia. Walking out, you shut the door behind you. You had barely been outside since you arrived here so it was nice to get some fresh air.

Shuddering the moment the cold hits you, you wrap yourself completely with the covers and take in your surroundings. The snow had piled up a good amount, And you wonder if Bruno had moved the snow out of the way earlier since the ground in front of the door lacked any.

You climb up the small slope of snow to get a better view. Everything felt brighter with the fresh layer of white everywhere. You even found that you could see farther into the distance between all the trees.

For some reason you get the urge to touch the snow on the ground under you, but immediately pull your hand back when you feel a sharp chill shoot up your arm. Snow was pretty to look at but not nice to touch which you already knew, but every year you’d find yourself making the same mistake. However, you were still hoping to eat ice cream later in the season.

You wander around a bit in front of the house before stopping in a spot where more light manages to break through the bare branches of the trees. It must get extremely dark in this area when the trees are full of leaves.

Time escapes you and you don't realize how long you’re outside until you try to move your leg and your knee is almost locked in place. Your eyes widen and you immediately shuffle back to the house with your stiff limbs, almost slipping down the slope in the process.

Once you’re inside, you accidentally bump the door closed too loudly with your body but continue to awkwardly move forward.

So cold, holy crap! Need more covers.

Before you can even leave the main room Bruno walks in. His eyes immediately take in your strange stance and he gives you a confused look..

You'd jump if you could. “Y-You're awake?”

“I had a feeling I heard the door close shut.”

You internally sigh at your carelessness.

“You're shivering really bad. Are you okay?”

"I m-m-might have gone outside f-f-for a tick or m-more."

Bruno gives you the most exasperated look you've seen in awhile before pinching the bridge of his nose. But right after, he reaches out towards you.

“Come here.”

You move towards him and he leads you over to the giant open space in the middle of the main room and gently prompts you to sit down on the rug.

"Be right back.”

You rub your legs and try to bend them as you wait for the moth to return. When he does, he has many of your blankets and pillows within his arms. You watch as he unfolds a few of the covers on the ground which you crawl onto while he places the pillows against the front of the couch. Once the moth’s done, he sits down and motions you over so he can pull you against him. He then covers you both with the rest of the blankets before leaning back against the pillows.

“Is this okay?”

“Y-Yea.” You felt less cold but it might take more time for your body to warm up to a comfortable temperature.

Suddenly Bruno’s body begins to vibrate rapidly.

“W-What?”

He rests his head in the crook of your neck. “This will warm you up a little quicker.”

“Oh, o-okay.”

You both sit there for a while and the vibrating starts to lull you to sleep. The combined warmth of his body and sweater was just too cozy for you, and you weren’t going to try to keep your eyes open if you didn’t have to.

You wiggle in Bruno's arms and the moth gives you a questioning hum.

“Just changing positions. I feel like I’m going to fall asleep on you any second…”

You turn so you can properly lay against Bruno's chest and press your face against the fluff around his neck that was sticking out from his sweater.

So soft.

Bruno’s arms close around you again once you're situated and you sigh. It was partially one of content but also a bit of uncertainty. You wouldn't say you weren't enjoying this but you still had that one worry in your mind.

You lightly play with his fur. "....Are we doing this as friends?"

You knew what you were saying was absolutely ridiculous but you weren’t sure how to ask what you wanted without sounding awkward. Where did both you and Bruno stand after that kiss? You’re enjoying how much closer you two had become over the last couple days but you need a straightforward answer to completely relax.

"____."

"Yea?"

"I need to tell you something--"

Before Bruno can finish, Narancia suddenly runs into the room. He yells before jumping onto you which forces a grunt from your throat. He was definitely heavier than you look.

Bruno looks down at his son. "Narancia why did you do that?"

"I wanna be--I wanna join too!"

You move from your comfortable position so the little bee can properly lay against you. “At least I'm fully awake now.” You yawn. “Kinda”

Narancia looks up at you. “Are you guys married now?”

You almost choke on your own spit from the sudden question. Well you couldn't blame him. You and Bruno weren't exactly conspicuous with your affections.

You look at the moth and he answers for you. "Well we aren't married but, maybe one day. If ____ wants to."

You struggle to keep yourself from gawking.

The bee nods in understanding. You wish you could accept things as easily as children did.

You want to ask Bruno to further elaborate on that but Narancia starts an enthusiastic conversation with you about flowers. The bee wasn’t able to visit them on his own yet but he seemed quite excited too.

“Do you have any favorite flowers Narancia?” you ask.

He mules it over for a moment. “I like the big ones.”

“Like a sunflower?”

He tilts his head. “What’s that?”

You raise a brow a bit surprised.

“There's no sunflowers around here,” Bruno chimes in.

You nod. To find them you have to go to an open field, so there must not be any nearby. And you remember Bruno saying that carrying Narancia could be troublesome.

“How about I take you to see some in the Summer? They love the sun, hence the name. But you have to promise you won’t move too much when I carry you okay?”

God forbid the bee managed to squirm out of your grip.

The bee nods enthusiastically.

All three of you keep one another company in your pile of blankets and pillows. But eventually Narancia starts to get restless from listening to you and Bruno talk about “boring adult stuff” and runs off to his room.

You lay on your stomach on the ground and look at Bruno. You can tell that the moth was ready for bed.

"You can go to sleep, you know."

"I’m not that tired--" he yawns.

"Sure you're not."

"Well I am but I want to spend more time with you."

You weren't completely used to such sweet words so you aren't able to respond right away.

“...I do too, but I’m going to be here after you wake up. Unless I go to sleep right after.”

“I’ll try to wake up in the afternoon before that happens,” Bruno says. He leans over and presses kiss on your cheek.

You lay there once Bruno leaves and you feel yourself drifting off until Narancia runs in with a container of blocks to play with you. It mainly consisted of you trying to build something and the bumblebee knocking it over though.

You spend up until almost noon playing with him and trying to keep him entertained. At that point he wants to go outside, which you were honestly hoping to avoid but you suck it up and agree.

After dressing yourself up properly, making sure to protect your hands and layer up, you help Narancia dress himself too before heading outside.

You hug yourself as you watch Narnacia run around and play with the cold snow. He squats down and makes a small pile from it before turning to you.

“Let’s make a snowbug!”

Oh jeez.

Even though you rather not mess with the snow after your brief contact earlier today, you nod. It would be fun. Probably.

You ignore the cold of the snow through your gloves and help Narancia start the head for the snowbug before you move on to rolling up the body. Once Narancia is done with the head he helps you with the body.

After moving the body to a good spot, according to Narancia, you move to find the head but can’t.

“Narancia where’s the head?”

“There...” he points to a weirdly shaped pile of snow on the ground.

You walk up to it and raise a brow. “Um...What happened to it?”

The bee looks off to the side. “I tried bu’ it wasn't round. An’ when I tried to fix it, it fell apart…”

You nod, “That’s okay let’s remake it now.”

You help start it again and have the bee roll it up again, coming in to help when necessary so the shape would stay spherical.

“Okay now roll it closer to the body so I can put it on top.”

Once Narancia rolls it over, you pick it up and place it on top of the body. The snowbug is now at least a head taller than the bee.

“Now we decorate it.”

“Can we pu’ a scarf so he won’t be cold?”

You chuckle a bit. “Sure. Do you have an extra one?”

The bee nods before running inside. While he’s gone you look for something you can use as the arms. While you're looking, Narancia comes back with a white scarf speckled with blacks dots.

“That looks good, help me find something for the eyes and mouth too!”

With that Narancia runs back inside.

You keep looking around and find some long dead grass sticking out of the snow next to the trunk of a tree. You go over and feel it. It was hard and thin so you surmise that it’ll be good for the arms. You yank out 2 pieces and break each one in half to create 4 arms. You also grab another one to make the bug’s antenna.

After sticking the arms in the body of the snowbug and the antenna into the top of the head, Narancia finally returns.

“Here!” He holds out something in his little hands to you.

“Thanks--Wait these are my buttons.”

The bee smiles at you and you shake your head but take them to create the face of your snowy creation. Slightly crouching, you grin a bit at the different color buttons making up the eyes and smile. It was kind of cute.

“I wanna pu’ the scarf!” Narancia exclaims.

You lift him up so he can better reach the neck area and he wraps the scarf around the snowbug.

Afterwards, you back up a bit to get a good look at you and the bee's creation. “He came out pretty good!”

“His name is Jon!”

“That’s a good name Narancia.”

And he smiles even wide at your praise.

You hug yourself and rub your arms. “Okay let's go inside, I don’t think my limbs can take anymore of this.”

-----

When Bruno and Narancia were asleep you'd spend most of the day working on some type of clothing. Your main focus was Bruno’s top though since you didn't want him to see it before it was done. You had been nervous to start on it but you didn't want to be stuck making little squares forever.

You hold out what you had so far in front of your lantern. It was barely anything and you had spent so long on it. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to put sleeves on it or not either…Other than the color you had pick--black--you weren’t really sure about anything.

"What are you making?"

You bring the lace close to your chest before turning towards the moth behind you. “Nothing!”

"Is it another top? It looks really intricate.”

You ignore the moth's curious tone. You mentioned making a top for him offhandedly but you wanted this to be a surprise more than you wanted to show off.

“It's nothing. You really need to stop sneaking up on me.”

"Okay mio amor keep your secrets."

Bruno smiles playfully at you but you just pout and put the lace out of sight in your satchel. It was getting dark anyways and your eyes were starting to hurt

You turn your attention back to Bruno. “What’s up?”

"I saw that Narancia is still in bed, and I was wondering if you want to read with me? If you're not tired that is."

“Oh that sounds nice!” You get up to do a couple stretches since you've been sitting down for so long.

"What are we reading? A romance?"

"Yeah, Abilene actually lent it to me."

Your smile becomes slightly tense knowing how some of the stuff they read could…get. Hopefully it's nothing too out there.

Bruno places the lantern a bit closer to the couch before making himself comfortable and beckoning you over. You decide to sit next to him but the moth looks at you.

"It would be easier to sit on my lap you know?"

You laugh a bit awkwardly from not sitting there in the first place but move onto his lap.

Bruno opens the book and you relax into his chest. The warmth coming off his body has any tension leaving you.

"How are you so warm all the time? It’s too relaxing..." You rub a hand against the soft wool of his sweater’s sleeve. For a split moment you think about cuddling up to him when you sleep in bed.

Bruno places an arm in front of you. “As long as you're comfortable.”

“Yea, but I don't want to drift off too quickly.”

The story starts off relatively normal, and you and Bruno quietly read together while you silently signaled when he could turn the page. But as you get further the expected supernatural elements kick in. You almost want to cover your face at the more explicit parts but push through genuinely invested in the plot.

Suddenly, you burst out laughing. “Abby why?”

"What?” Bruno asks. You seemed to have surprised him with your laugh.

"It’s just that this is so ridiculous. I still like the story but come on!”

Other than the transformations and dead coming alive, the miscommunication seems almost fantastical. Looking from the outside in, it seemed so easy to avoid.

“It’s a little frustrating isn't it.” Bruno says.

You hum. “Yea but I can't pretend I’m above it though.” It made for good drama and interesting situations.

As the two of you continue the book, you end up moving positions multiple times. And by the time you're really struggling to stay awake, you're almost laying completely on top of the moth.

Your head rests against his chest as he reads outloud to you since you were having a hard time keeping up with the words.

Bruno softly touches your back. “____?”

You grunt, half awake.

“Are you still listening?”

“...Yea, the mantis is about to risk a one night stand with another cannibalistic mantis.”

“...What?”

“Oh wait, maybe I half dreamt that.”

Bruno closes the book. "Okay, we are going to bed."

"Nooo, I don't want to move."

"We can't sleep on the couch."

You pout but reluctantly get up from your comfortable spot on the moth to make your way, along with your lantern, to Bruno's room. Once you're there you immediately place the lantern down and flop on top of the bed.

Bruno comes in a moment afterward.

"Don't you want to change into something more comfortable?"

You half reply mumbling something incorrehent.

Bruno sighs and walks over to you removing your scarf off your neck. He then carefully helps you out of your sweater struggling a bit to get your wings through since you won't sit up.

"I'll just leave the rest of my stuff on."

You crawl up farther into the bed before getting under the covers and resting your head on your pillow. You then watch Bruno fold up your clothing before placing it on top of the dresser. Before he can leave the room though you call out to him.

Bruno stops at the door frame and turns towards you in question.

“Um, are you going to bed?

It was quite late. So you would probably end up sleeping until late morning the next day.

“Not just yet but you don't need to worry and force yourself awake tomorrow. I'll just sleep in Narancia’s room until you wake up.”

“Well…”

You struggle to finish your sentence though. You want him to stay but was it okay for you two to share the bed already?

You barely dwell on that question though.

Who were you kidding? You didn't care if it was appropriate or not. You didn't want to sleep alone. And there was no point forcing Bruno into Narancias room when his giant bed could easily fit the two of you!

”I want to share...the bed,” you mutter quietly.

Bruno’s brows raise. “Sorry mio amor can you repeat that, I couldn't hear.”

You give him an unamused look when you realise what he’s doing, but he simply smiles and waits patiently for you to repeat yourself.

“I want to share the bed with you!”

“Oh, that's what I thought I heard just wanted to make sure.” He walks up to you and presses a kiss to your furrowed brow and you immediately relax your face.

The moth makes his way over to the floor length mirror and you watch him take out his hair clips and undo his braid.

“Your hair looks nice like that you know.”

“Really?” His fingers comb through parts of his hair.

“Yep! You look cute.”

He removes his fingers from his hair. “Well I guess I can leave it like this for now then.”

Bruno goes to take off his sweater and you immediately look away, but then you remember that you have seen him shirtless for most of the time you’ve known him. Something about this felt more private though.

“What’s wrong?” Bruno asks when he sees you looking off to the side quietly.

You struggle to explain though.

Realization dawns on the moth though from your few mumbled words and he chuckles. “You're so cute.”

“I know, I k--wait no, I thought you were going to say something else...”

Once Bruno gets in bed, you reach up and twirl some of the wavy strands of his hair as he looks down at you from his sitting position.

“____ I need to tell you something.”

You hum dropping your hand and doing your best to keep yourself from falling asleep just yet.

“I know it's not very romantic. But I guess when I’m with you I feel a little more impulsive. I really like you, and I want us to be together….as mates.”

That gets rid of some of the sleepiness you feel and you feel your face getting hot.

“I should have said this sooner. I don't want to pressure you into anything--”

“Bruno I've been all over you since I got here, you would definitely not be pressuring me.” You sit up. “I--I’m actually really happy! I really like you too! It’s dumb but, I’ve liked you for so long--”

This was the first time you'd seen the moth look flushed and it was sight to behold. A giant part of you already wants to cause it to happen more.

Bruno gently grabs your hand when he realizes you're looking at him and clears his throat slightly before smiling at you.

“Now I’m kind of curious mio amor. How long, if you don't mind me asking?”

You grimace a bit looking away from the moth. “It’s kind of embarrassing...But kinda first sight. I thought it was a silly crush that would go away but it just got more intense. It got really bad in Fall.”

Bruno massages the back of your hand with his thumb.

“What about you?” you ask.

“I’m not exactly sure when they started but I realized I felt feelings that were different than platonic in Fall after you got hurt.”

You nod. Part of you wonders how Bruno reacted when he found out what happened from Abbacchio, but most of you was okay with not knowing.

“...Now I have to give that season more credit.” You give the moth a small smile which he returns. “I’m glad that's out of the way now. Now I can clearly call you my mate.” You giggle, feeling a little giddy.

You can't keep down the smile on your face even if you wanted to.

“Ready for bed?”

You nod. “...You can shut off the lantern if you want.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yea, I know light like that can be distracting to fall asleep too.”

Bruno shuts your lantern, and you find yourself not minding the dark so much when he pulls you into his arms and you stare into his glowing eyes.

Your fingers feel at the soft hair at the back of his neck. Apparently, you couldn’t stop yourself from playing with his hair. “Are you even tired Bruno?”

“Not really but that's okay, I just want to lay here with you.”

Your chest thrills from the words. “...How do you say things like this so easily?”

“There’s no shame in what I feel for you. And I want you to know these feelings.”

You yawn and shut your eyes. “I...I hope I can be more like that...one day.”

“Well, you did ask me to get in bed with you.”

“But...that was so...hard.”

“We just got together so give it some time. And either way, you show you care in your own way.”

The moth presses a quick on your lips and you sleepily grin.

“Goodnight ____.”

[quinn-tessence]

Nocturne for a Clown

Part 3

Summary: you're tormented by the realization Arthur is the killer clown on the news, yet no bone in your body feels any different for him. Not even Casanova's advances could sway your from wanting to hold Arthur in your arms and alleviate his sorrow. He's had a bad day, and retreats on your couch, broken and confused.

Length: 5k words

Warnings: mentions of murder, lack of remorse, guilt and grief, seeking comfort where he'd never had it from. Smut with dear Arthur that could cause a rush of tremors, be warned. 🤭❤

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You sat and watched. Then watched and watched some more. There were no words, no voice, no sound coming through your gaping mouth as the skin on your lips almost started to crack. It made sense. The blood, the bruise, the liberating sex, the wretched guilt. Oh God, what has he done?, you repeated in his voice over and over, that impossible puzzle putting itself together before you as you hid your gouging eyes underneath heavy, sweaty palms in a much too similar reflex to his own.

What has he done? He'd been beaten down surely, given his frail nature you could see how he'd be fluent in being at the receiving end, but as grievous as the thought was, it made it no less valid. This was bad, he’d land straight into Arkham if you picked up that phone to call the authorities, the way a considerate citizen would, as if Gotham deserved any at all. But you weren't one of them, were you? Never had you really fit in, yet you tried for the sake of appearances, it had become so burdening of late, only the thought of Arthur could provide the comfort you'd been seeking.

The news reports kept blaring, yet all your compassion overflowed for the clown, had you been able to see things objectively you'd still think he was hero. Three fewer assholes in Gotham, only a million more to go, you heard an inner voice say, even if you knew that was enough reason to throw you into the depths of Arkham Asylum. You'd sadly known that place from family, and you never wanted to set foot in that Tartarus again, but perhaps the apple didn't fall far from the tree. You couldn't stomach the thought of Arthur sitting opposite the glass wall from you, so dozed up on sedatives he'd hardly even recognize you. No, no, no. You wouldn't let that happen, and yet he'd need his own time and space to process.

You resisted the urge to bang on his door and ask for a full account, it felt as if you were a passenger on a derailing, speeding train. Regardless of how breathtaking the turquoise water under the rails, your gut wrenched at the thought of plunging into it head first. You were a decent swimmer, but you knew you’d be incapable of fighting those waters from swallowing you whole. You'd just given yourself to him, entirely and shamelessly, and regret was nowhere in sight. Had you been the forth prey of his killing spree, he would have killed you already. Yet he did the exact opposite, in distress and quivering like a leaf, but it was your door he opened after his rupture. He trusted you to keep this secret for him. And you welcomed the trust.

Within a few days you noticed you'd returned to your bad habit of unconscious nails biting. As if the deafening tumult between your temples wasn't enough, you also had to self flagellate as you desperately waited in silence.

You were busy enough at work, and the newest addition to your team had become daring enough to invade your private space little by little. Tall. Lean. Broad shouldered. Curly caramel hair and eyes of obsidian, winking at you shamelessly each time he passed by you. Patrick was a force in his field, yet he rolled his eyes and tongued his cheek whenever you'd call on him for a task, as if wanting to taunt you. Quite quirky and unprofessional, but restrictive enough to question yourself if you were merely projecting. Not once had he failed to deliver, on the contrary, yet that sly attitude never left him. Hm. The distraction was welcome, but it was nothing more. You'd catch yourself staring through him, picturing sparkling emeralds and cocoa, having to snap yourself back to reality before he'd think it was him you were aching for just like all your infatuated colleagues.

He must have checked with your giggly girlfriends before casually slipping in an invitation to your favorite bar after hours, casual drinks with a few colleagues, of course. Perhaps you should have politely declined, but you needed the respite from the heart wrenching torment, even if just for a few hours.

As empty as the venue was, he insisted on strolling in your visual field, intriguingly charming, maybe a bit too charismatic. It was time to maintain a level of dignity with your colleagues and remove yourself before getting into a state where you'd find yourself in Arthur's apartment, this time fully conscious. Yet Patrick gallantly offered to drive you over, posing a certain concern for your safety alone in the streets with a murdering clown on the loose. HA! You giggled at the joke being on him, silently talking to yourself. No thank you, you rascal, protection from that clown is the last thing I need. He insisted on paying for the taxi at least, and you’d had two drinks and wanted to be home already.

The thunderstorm washed the streets rapidly as you entered your building. You loved ravenous thunderstorms, especially as they traversed the sky over your cozy apartment bathed in lily scent. You took comfort in the hot shower and the chilly air in the room, lightning bolts clearing up the sky for a flash of a second as you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, ready for Murray's dry humor.

Oh God! Your heart leapt to your throat as a soaked silhouette bathed your floors in cocoa flavor. At last.

‘Arthur! You scared me!’ he lay motionless, your words passing through him as if he wasn't even there. ‘Is everything ok?’

His damp fingers absently traced a faint line over the glass of your coffee table, his body slouched and stiff, the edges of his hair dripping on the couch.

‘I had a bad day.’

The words had come from a deep dark pit inside his chest, a wretched misery draped across his face as you kneeled next to him, cupping his cheeks. You'd ached to see his sparkling jades, yet you'd met them covered in a thick coat of tears, on the edge of dropping.

‘Arthur, what happened, sweetheart? Talk to me, please' He was so tired and withered, not even the wicked cackle would surface in this state.

‘I had a bad day…’

‘You said that, sweetheart, tell me what happened. Are you hurt?’

‘Kitten. I've done something… I…’ for seconds he tried to articulate, but the cackle fought its way up his throat.

‘Arthur shhhh. I know it was you. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to, I won't force you… I won’t judge you for it, I promise. Just sit with me for a second’ his head already leaning on your chest, your palm caressing his piercing bones, even through sets of clothes. He sat sedated, limbs heavy, flesh trembling, voice cackling in wrenching anguish for what felt like minutes on end.

‘You do?’ he asked between ruptures as if to steer his initial subject into whatever you'd conveniently brought up.

‘I do. I knew it the moment I heard the news after you stormed out. I saw the blood and the bruise on your face. You won't find any judgement here, I promise. I know you needed time to process, but you’re here now. Shhh' you almost cradled him in your arms, the most powerful instinct to protect him even from himself overbearing. He was all bone and sinew, like a hungry lone wolf, but there now was a sinister vibe to him.

‘Good. I'm glad you know. I lost my job that day, and then they attacked me in the subway, beating me to a pulp. Hm. Now you'll know that killing them hasn't bothered me at all. How's that for casual conversation?’

An unnerving tremor slid down your spine at the tone of his voice. You'd known him for a while, yet this resentful sneer was far from something you'd expect from timorous Arthur. Dreadful it's what it was, spine-tingling, intriguing, you were utterly mad to clasp this deranged man to your bosom when another prince charming just waited for one damn look from you. Who cared, you thought, Gotham’s gonna claim all of us sooner or later.

‘All I want is for you to be safe, Arthur. I won't tell anyone, but you need to be careful, sweetheart, you can't be saying things like those to anyone, please'

‘I have no one to tell, Y/N. And you’re not just anyone. You know. I’m still here, although you could have thrown me in police custody for the past few days.’ The cackles had given him a short respite, even if still lingering on the edge of bursting. He wheezed heavily before speaking. ‘My whole life I didn't even know if I really existed. And today, I feel… hollow…’

You'd asked and asked again as you touched his face and held it close to yours, his forehead as cold as the thunderstorm outside this comforting protective bubble.

‘My mother had a heart attack. She's in the hospital. Hah. My mother…’ a late instinct turned your skin to prickles hearing him speak from a different octave, a thick air of mustering resentment filling the room. ‘I had a few days to myself and I decided to deliver a letter to Thomas Wayne from her, seeing how he never bothered to write back. I'd told you she worked for him 30 years ago, and I read it although I shouldn’t have. I'd never known my father, but the letter said it was him. I confronted my mother and she told me everything about the two of them. But… instead of some warmth or a bit of decency, he told me my mother was insane and that I had been adopted. That and a punch to the face is what I got. Hm. Who am I, then? You tell me'

Your own eyes on the brink of overflowing, your soul coiled. You couldn't do much, but he needed comfort. Where would you even start, though? His tone of voice, the grief weighing him down, the droplets off his wet hair disintegrating whatever pieces were left of him, a question mark in stead of whomever he thought he'd been his whole life. Yet he didn't expect comfort. Such a foreign concept to him, as if reserved only to an elite he was not part of and would not dare intrude upon. You could easily hear how he'd just laugh it out into his pillow at night, his cries stifled, lacking a corner of privacy and personal intimacy where he could really build up that forced smile he'd put on every next day. You’d go utterly mad if you were in his shoes, no comfort and no expectation of it. So used to being overlooked, deep down he knew he was alone, and that filled him with fear and hopelessness. So you shushed and nuzzled him to your chest, hoping the warmth of your body would be soothing enough for the chaos that he was.

‘I don't know who I am, kitten. So I went down to Arkham and stole my mother's file just to find that he'd been right. The… horrors… she subjected me to as a child had gotten me locked up in Arkham years ago, but now I think I was just trying to hide from her, from this rotten city, from this world. I felt safe in that white room, ironically. When they released me, the heavy medication was supposed to make me feel better, instead it suffocated even my most basic impulses.’

Laughter ripped at his throat and pulled his face into a grimace, your palms clasping him so tightly you were afraid you might smother him. How much pain and grief could a man take, his poor soul must have been bound to an eternal rock, forever pecked by hungry vultures.

‘How can you even welcome me into your home if I don't even know that much? I’m so sorry I dragged you into this. I should go, no need to burden you with any of this' he meant every word, as he kissed your hands with teary lips and dragged himself half upright.

‘Don't go' you close to begged. ‘Please stay.’

The grooves in his forehead you loved, just as the distinctive scar on his upper lip and the deep dark eye bags crowning his jades, his state of mind added another couple decades to his age. As you took him in through your pores, you remembered the shy clown peering through the shelves, and how the makeup would do the exact opposite of its intended purpose. Somehow he'd been unaware of how the makeup brightened his eyes to a clarity and sharpness you could cut yourself into. It was endearing how he'd stared at you when you'd first seen him wearing the costume, thinking he could hide under that mask when really it only brought him to life, his facial expressivity more riveting than ever. Yet he was here with you, more Carnival than Arthur even without the paint, as broken as a mirror in infinite shards.

‘Will you still have me here after this?’

‘I would. Please. I'm glad you came here after all this instead of going back home.’

The thought he'd ever been intimate with a woman before you had dissipated in an endless pool of murky turquoise, the genuine surprise in his eyes cutting you to your bone. There was no question, you knew.

‘Thank you, kitten. I'll stay, if you want me here'. There was no hiding anymore, you'd made it sparkling clear by being an accessory after the fact.

‘I do, Arthur, so much. I wanted you here… since you held that elevator for me, yet somehow we always missed our moment. No need to thank me…’

Had it not been for the roaring thunder, he'd probably hear your galloping heart, yet his composure betrayed just that acknowledgement. Every fiber in your body ached to touch his soul and mend it. The erotic tension you couldn't deny, but that wasn't anywhere near the reason why you'd willfully allowed yourself to become his accomplice. He sat back down, timidly reaching for your hand with his own smooth fingers, to place it on his cheek, now as warm as to ignite all the fires inside you with only one touch. Regardless of the endless torment of his life, it was so effortless to feel safe in his presence, even if he'd just killed three men in cold blood and joggled his life as he balanced on a thin string.

‘But I want to. Will you... let me thank you?’ his eyes had meekly turned to yours with a restless heeding for that glimpse of complicity you'd joined in a few times before.

‘If you insist, sweetheart, I guess you already did. You're welcome.’ And through that smile you could feel your body radiating as intensely as a candle flame in the dark. You’d tripped and fell into feelings for him, and nothing could brush them off.

‘No... I really want to thank you, kitten...’ Painfully slowly, he drew himself closer to you, a cocktail of demureness and ardor shaping his beautifully chiseled face into one that you'd missed your whole life, without even knowing. ‘I want to... put my mouth on you...’

Oh… He'd shown you a short, blissful glimpse of this other Arthur, the less tense, less uptight, more daring when he'd taken what you both wanted. There was always a limit to his courage, and yet he’d usually fall back into the timid, maiden like demeanor that he was. This felt different though, as there was a glimpse of unbridling in the way he inhaled, in the twitch of his contoured eyebrow, his whispering husky voice demanding consent. He needed this. Perhaps it would help deafen the torment for a quiet minute, and you were willing to let him try. Oh, who were you fooling, your heart had leapt at the thought of this since you saw him motionless on your couch, albeit in your mind the roles had been reversed. You'd bitten your lip instinctively, a most nonverbal cue of compliance to his plea, and within a short second he was tasting it, sucking it, biting it gently, as his nimble fingers strolled so tenderly through your hair to uncover your face, your eyes already deeply sunk behind fluttering eyelids.

‘I want to feel you shiver in my mouth' he whispered with a faltering voice, taking in all of your scent through avid nostrils. ‘You always smell so good, so clean… I want to taste you…'

So tender he was, you'd forgotten what it felt like to be wished for, body and soul alike, yet his palms willingly showed you a striking contrast to the tenacious Arthur who'd barged in days ago, as if your skin was porcelain and he wouldn't want to break you. He uncovered your naked skin underneath the fluffy bathrobe and smoothly tasted the growing prickles with curious fingertips, lowering himself towards your thighs at a painstakingly slow pace that would soon have you beg.

Pulling you to the edge of the couch where he’d slid himself, he finally broke the jarring tension of his eye contact just to move his head lower, descending decisively. The instant his curious lips parted, a shiver jolted through your flesh and your heart leapt into a marathon, you let yourself fall into his mouth without any control. How beautiful he was, you reminded him over and over as your fingers slicked his damp hair back, curling it around his ears, uncovering his furrowed forehead and perfect chiseled jawline. The sight of him between your thighs was no stranger, but you’d only seen it from afar until now, deep within the corner of each of your fantasies. Such a kind soul he was, but that mouth a wretched devil… oh my…

For a second he looked as if he'd forgotten all his sorrows as he strolled his tongue over your petals, tasting your skin one inch at a time, gently exploring to test your every reaction to his laps, his eyes fascinated with each of your whimpers. The throbbing love button he'd unveiled, a curiosity he had to touch with his tongue to feel the pulsation, your purrs a source of the validation in an endless sea of self doubt. Taking his time, curiously exploring this newfound medication for his sorrowful blues, he quickly grew hungry and greedy as an addict for a stronger fix, yet somewhat cautious to not overdose. His dilated basil eyes etched onto your contorted face, delighting in each tiny reaction he drew from you with his mouth, yet the catalyst to set you fully ablaze were his own moans as he enjoyed himself enjoying you. Oh God, what is he doing to me, I never want him to stop…

You’d thought you'd be the one comforting him, but it seemed as if he was doing it for both of you. His eyes moved around maniacally, taking in the shape of your naked breasts, of your nipples hardened at the thunderous air in the room, your moans guiding him into a delicate rhythm that could make you climb walls, even with the clumsiness that came with tasting a new person. He couldn't be a novice, although his curiosity was striking and enticing. Regardless of all that sorrow he'd brought with him, he curled a satisfied smirk under his scar and an impertinent twitch of his eyebrow sent you into a frenzy. His jades dilated at seeing your lips bitten, your eyebrows furrowed, close to crying in ecstasy, unable to move at the pleasure he gave and gave some more.

The mercury in your thermometer jumped at knot speed towards one big show of fireworks whose fuse got consumed by his kindling flame at a slow pace. Thoughts of his recent killing spree rushed through your mind, yet you were as high as a kite. You didn't care. So you let them ooze out to leave a hazy emptiness behind to be filled with all this spectacle of indulgence.

The pleas were whimpering whispers as you arched and etched your fingers in his smooth cocoa hair to anchor him, the other palm clenching a poor throw pillow to deformation. You hips guided by the rhythm of his palms on your waist, your moans deepening as he'd made you move onto his face, using it as a fine tuned instrument to orchestrate the crescendo of both your pleasure. Now that all your 8000 sensory nerve endings could light Gotham for Christmas if visible, his tongue flickered around your pearl, feeling the climax building up towards that overwhelming rapture. Moans turned to shrieks, toes and fingers clenched in reflex, his eyes and mouth on you as he winked from under long dark eyelashes. You combusted so powerfully into his mouth, within a few blissful seconds you'd left him glistening in traces of yourself.

Only as you quivered your last drop of pleasure in his mouth did you realize why he'd needed this so badly, he craved the validation of being a man even if his identity in shatters. It was one thing to have no identity, but another to not even be a man. Pleasuring you was one damn win that would hold his feet on the ground if he did it right, and that he could control. He had been scrutinizing you as you gasped for air, your eyebrows furrowed almost painfully, your flushed delicate muscles still throbbing under his tongue.

‘Oh, Arthur, that was… amazing…’

Still lingering his lips onto your inner thighs, he kissed tenderly as your flesh still twitched. You wanted him even more now than you did before. But tonight should be about him, even if he'd taken the lead so gracefully, so skillfully, so deliciously.

‘Yeah…’ the shyest smile draped across his tinted face, 'I felt that, kitten. I've… never really done this before…’ You'd known, deep down, and yet hearing him say the words was the most tender of piano nocturnes to your ears, so you latched at his mouth to taste him through your flavor, one that if you could bottle up, it would drive mankind rabid into destructive adoration.

Come here, Arthur, you whispered as you pulled him next to you, the puzzlement over his arching eyebrows an absolute delight you'd dreamt of relentlessly. He didn't fight it, yet the stiffness in his bones betrayed an urge he'd palmed away many nights without resolution, anxiety creeping over him at the realization it was now staring him in the face.

‘Wh… what are you doing?’, you shushed him as a response.

‘Kitten, please, don't feel like you need to give me anything back…’

‘Who said anything about giving back? I'm taking this for myself, Arthur. Let go, baby, let me take care of you'

‘Kitten… ohh' his eyes went straight to the back of his head, heavy eyelids covering his jades, his lips parted as your fingers traced the bulge straining his pants to suffocation. ‘Ok…’ he exhaled anxiously, a timidly bouncing knee betraying the rush of emotion flowing through him as you dragged his clothes over his head, his pants crowning the floor within a few seconds, leaving him naked to your hungry gazes.

The flickering light of the candles reflected over his protruding ribs as if a part of his body had caved in under the weight of his shoulders, his palms on your face strolling and tasting the reality of your flesh, he must have thought you were a side effect of his medication. Yet the prickling shivers traversing his body as you trailed your fingers over it were not. You reached for his lips as you lay him across the couch, your breasts invading his chest, the warmth of your body soothing his anxious trembling. That defeated look on his face, so vulnerable he'd made himself to you, he had nothing to give yet you still wanted him. He was mystified with even the remote possibility, let alone you giving him that adoration he'd chased endlessly, but never caught.

‘You are so beautiful, Arthur, let me show you, please…’ He was your paradise lost in the depravity of Gotham, a villain in itself, weighing down on each of its residents and having chosen Arthur to crush mercilessly under its own lack of a well defined identity, ready to teach us all lessons in humility that could lead to desperation.

He nodded shyly, his jades coated with an acute layer of yearning over something he'd never been given before. His body was a withered Stradivarius, abandoned in the corner of a cold, damp world, subjected to years of weathering and painful lack of any care, no wonder he was so feeble in between your fingers. But his strings were steel, and steel doesn't weather. It would naturally respond to external factors just like anything else but no amount of forcing, pushing, suppressing would bring out the brilliant austere sound it was designed to bring. Had he been less frail, you'd relate him to a cello, one that needs to be held tight to one's chest before playing it, where its resonating chamber rests upon the artist's heart as she moves the bow on the saddest of instruments. Yet he was so fragile, the wails of his chords almost bringing you to tears as you ghosted over them, testing what amount of pressure would bring the vibration, how to explore the potential of the sound and bring it closer to perfection. You were there to give him all that, to polish all the dust away, his wrinkles, his chiseled edges, to practice on his strings and validate his worth until he felt himself a Stradivarius for the first time in his life. He'd been blessed with a beautiful instrument that could bring such intense sensory bliss if only he'd find the right hands, and you longed to play him through the night, to tear your fingers into his chords and to sing his melancholy away.

What a trembling mess he'd become as soon as your lips strolled down his neck, the smell of rain and cigarettes off his skin intoxicating you into indelible addiction. The farthest you went, the more you saw how little he expected that you'd turn your full attention to him, as if never daring to expect anything other than what you'd allow him to take. You kissed your way down from his chest, palms exploring and fondling every bony texture, every inch of soft skin until reaching an extremity that felt to your fingertips as both together. Trembling, he slicked back his hair and sunk deeper into the couch, scrutinizing your face in detail and feeding you those micro expressions of Arthur and Carnival together, the twitch in his eyebrow a give away that you'd be playing for an audience of two tonight.

So immersed in the overflow of sensation he was as you took him into your mouth, his only verbal response a muffled ‘F-fuck, kitten', but his whole body screamed a different story of twitches at the touch of your tongue and lips. How demure the sounds he made as he shivered over and over, his eyes shut tightly, his mouth half open, heavy breaths raising his chest, quivering lips alternating silent approvals or four letter curses, as if careful to not be caught. So painfully expressive, all you wanted was to see him melt under your touches like silver over a burning flame without a hurry in the world, your tongue tracing a tale more evocative than any words could ever express.

With each stroke of your lips, he let go to all but that intense pleasure, as if your mouth held the power to oust the very fabric of reality, offering him an escape into a wonderland he'd been denied entrance all his life. He wants to be wanted, needs to he needed, lusts to be lusted for, his quivering lips more than enough validation for that thought. As you felt his muscles unwind, his fingers tremoring, his breath traversing his trembling body, you'd made him float in an isolation tank of indulgence. When you stopped, his voice would growl and whimper in reflex, the purring sounds begging for more. Some would call it schadenfreude, you called it your tiny overdose in hearing him say 'please' as you teased and inflamed him. His taste in your mouth, his smooth texture, his delicate skin, you wanted nothing more than to lock that door and trap him in this perpetual state of bliss. For eternity wouldn't be enough to put together all his broken pieces, but it would be a start.

The meekness in his jade eyes was wrenching, yet as he looked into yours, you quickly understood why. You couldn't hear his silent whispers, yet you knew he was begging for more as the throb in your mouth intensified and his whimpering green eyes slid to the back of his head, his palms clenching the couch so forcefully he could tear into it. It mattered no less as you felt him completely let go throb after throb, his body convulsing in spasms, the taste of him ambrosia hidden from all other mortals.

His head sunk deep in the couch pillow, his arms and body heavy and immobile, breath ragged, he giggled for the first time that day, a laugh so genuine it felt foreign to both of you, a rattled stranger you both wanted to welcome in and nurture back to his feet. As he lay sprawled on your couch, naked and ecstatic, you wished he was happy, for once. You needed a minute to freshen up, and as you returned to shut the windows and lay a blanket over him, he'd almost dozed off from exhaustion.

You sunk next to him as slick as a cat, laying him onto your chest and fondling your fingers in his damp cocoa hair, his limbs latching at you rendering you almost breathless with the radiating warmth of his body.

‘Kitten, I… I don't know how to thank you…’, he whispered in the nook of your neck, asleep had his flesh not sweetly twitched him back to a half awake state. ‘I've been off my medication for a few days, but I might have found an endless supply of pure morphine…’. His body had finally rested its convulsion, his limbs falling heavier, his breath slower, within a few seconds of his thought his eyes already moved spastically under heavy eyelids.

He was right, he'd found pure morphine, and so had you. It would consume you both, but him in your arms was that feeling humanity had sought since its birth. A once in a lifetime adventure they'd write sonnets about in the past, one that was yours to experience and live through with Arthur. That morphine had just kicked in for both, and you were floating on a cloud high above the thunder slowly roaring away in the night.

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Thank you for reading this far! ❤

A special thanks to a few of the lovely people in this community that inspires me to keep putting my odes to Arthur on paper:

@wuika @iartsometimes @impulsiveclown @arthurflecc @littlebird92 @life-or-something-like-lt @jokers-puddin-pop @arthurfleckownsmysoul @jokersdoll @bananabreaddough @paperorigami @ransomguest49 @daydreamhustler @arthurjokersgirl @forever-fleck @sweet-nothings04 jokerlicious @ajokeformur-ray @shaw-2000 @jaraysha1121 @jofic059​ @shit-i-love-clowns