#i honestly would believe that might have just been used as a way to set up a movie plot idk

[bomberqueen17]

the gay dolphins are too powerful

yesterday i was facing the facts that i do need to actually work out the technical mcguffins in this novel. like, i have some vague notion that there's a problem with the radio network because of solar flares and our heroes are going to... somehow... fix it. idk.

plot and worldbuilding wittering behind the cut

this was the main plot in the solarpunk mammoths novel too, and i had a vague notion that a problem on such a global scale as that would need to like. it would need to be solved by more than one person. and so my nebulous notion is that possibly several sets of characters could work on it in these loosely-connected novels where really i'm just exploring different ecosystems.

idk i just-- y'all know about the Turkey City Lexicon right? I got it as a hand-out in college creative writing class and of course it reshaped my brain, but. one of the Tropes To Beware they've got is the Cozy Catastrophe, which is startlingly prevalent and once you see it you can't unsee-- "the world is ending! all of humanity will die! unless... Jeff and Suzy, you're our only hope!" and our two everyman protagonists somehow are the only resources the entire world can muster and honestly the entire world seems to consist of one American city block with about three hundred people in it at most. Hm.

so i was like yah this catastrophe is way too cozy.

meanwhile i forget how it came up but @sonnetsandsinging, helpfully spitballing, said something about space whales and i was like

OMG in a world with genetically-engineered mammoths with radio collars that translate their brain waves to allow them to speak in human language it is ABSURD that they are the only species of animal that has been given this treatment

so like. what other animals do we try to talk to all the time besides elephants?

DOLPHINS

so now this world has genetically-engineered dolphins with brainwaves-to-speech dorsal fin attachments. like duh of course it does. i can't believe I hadn't thought of that.

there should be other animals too but i can't decide which ones, currently taking submissions. What Else Should Slightly-Disconcertingly Speak.

(My criteria: should be an animal intelligent enough to have successful communication with humans already, something relatively long-lived, something that couldn't use sign language or other methods already. My concept, which is not scientific really, is that it's been well-studied that while many animals have complex communication systems, humans are the only ones whose brains are structured specifically for language, so the Magic Fictional Science here is that they've had that ability genetically-engineered in, but of course the physical production of human-intelligible language is beyond the physical structure of most animals, hence the brainwave-interface collars. which btw could also be used on profoundly disabled humans, and that might be a plot point at some point; i do have some disabled characters in this story. I know I researched those like, communication board things that nonverbal humans can use and I settled on Magical Radio-Networked Interfaces that speak out loud instead for the simple expedient of streamlining things because like how is a mammoth going to carry a communication board around that it can like get out and point at. how is a dolphin going to carry anything. so, this is just where I ended up.)

(I was thinking parrots but then parrots wouldn't need the collar because they can actually make human-speech noises on their own. so that's a fun variation. maybe in this world african grey parrots actually just talk.)

Anyway back when I first started the solarpunk mammoths novel I researched Asian elephants a lot and studied their social structures and read up on their physical abilities etc., so in between trying to find out how radio waves and semiconductors work (i get the radio waves thing & think i have my mcguffin sorted out but semiconductors made my eyes glaze over and then begin weeping so i gave up) (also supercapacitors i don't understand u sorry bye) (do i know any electronics engineers who want to explain this in normal languages? shit i do know a chemical engineer maybe she knows. heck) ... ok i wandered away from this post to text her and then forgot i was making it. i did not get a lot of sleep last night the amphetamines are not being kind this go-round but i must continue the experiment. uhhhhh where was i

GAY DOLPHINS

too powerful

Yeah so I started researching dolphins, because if I'm going to have named-and-speaking dolphin characters, I need to know a little bit about how they work.

Now I have a slight head-start on this, just as I did on mammoths. Mammoths, I've been obsessed with since I was a toddler. But dolphins. For a while I used to go to SCA camping events and there was this guy who used to be a Navy diver and then worked for Sea World and he. well he was really good at telling stories, was his deal. And he had Seen Some Shit, and some of that shit was about interacting with dolphins. And the thing about dolphins is that. Well, they're violent little chaos gremlins, and just in the course of going about their normal lives, one of the things they do to interact with the world is, well. they have sex with things.

when they do this to people it is generally not a positive experience for the person. but. so i knew that going in. and most of the information on the internet about dolphins is really like. earnest and loving and whatever, which is great. but the thing is that dolphins are chaos gremlins who will fuck anything they can't eat, eat anything they can't fuck, or sometimes do both to the same unfortunate object if it proves to be possible.

what i'm saying is, these are going to be really entertaining characters to work with. because elephants, conversely, do not have recreational sex. they do a lot of things, but they just don't really do that. so dolphins are like. inverse-elephants, culturally.

Elephants also tend to have a strong matriarch, strong bonds between females, and then the males tend to be largely solitary, but will congregate more loosely, often around an older male who will teach them manners. (A well-mannered bull is MUCH more likely to be allowed to mate with desirable females, who have little patience with male foibles.)

Dolphins have looser gender roles; on the whole, the females tend to loosely congregate, and pregnant females usually go back to their mother's pod to birth and raise young, not dissimilar to elephants, but the males--

male dolphins very, very frequently will pair-bond. Two males of similar age-- adult males have very little to do with juveniles of either sex, generally-- will pair-bond and will be inseparable for the rest of their lives. If one of them dies, the other will mourn-- mourning behavior is well-documented in dolphins-- and then will seek to pair off with another adult male, because male dolphins prefer to work in pairs, for survival and companionship. (Dolphin "pods" are also more loosely-organized than elephant herds; dolphins will have a couple of core companions, but then will freely associate and disassociate with other individuals and groups over short periods of time without much fuss, depending on the situation.)

The pair-bonded males are the ones who in the wild do the behavior you see in shows, where they do like synchronized jumps and very-close fast-precise swimming and such, which in the wild are apparently courtship or threat displays-- i.e. "look how tight we are, you can't fight us" or, alternately, "isn't that hot" because

yes that's often how they court females. The pair will corral a desirable female and herd her away from other dolphins so they can both mate with her, and keep her from mating with anybody else.

(other females have been observed collaborating to free a corralled female who did not want this to happen, so it's not quite as rapey as it sounds. though, i mean. dolphins. what can you do.)

anyway dolphin threesomes are canon. but that derailed the rest of my night and i was unable to concentrate on anything else because the gay-- I should say really bisexual dolphins are too powerful.

so anyway i wrote a test scene with a dolphin character, and i had my main character take his wife and baby down to the jetty to introduce them to his dolphin pals, and a bonded male pair he'd known for years showed up and immediately tried to steal the wife, and then expressed shock that he didn't have his male best friend with him, because in their experience breeding was THEE most important time to have your buddy with you. He explains that his buddy is off on a long-term work assignment, and they're like hmph next time you breed you MUST include him, it is so much easier trust us. and the wife is like hmmmmm!

henceforth i will refer to m/m/f threesomes as "dolphin style" you're welcome

[comicaurora]

Hey, sorry if you’ve been asked this before, but I have ADHD and I’ve been following your comic for years and just now have started to write my own comic (partially because you really inspired me). But I’m really struggling with staying on the project even when it’s boring and getting myself to work on it in the first place. Do you have any tips on how to keep your brain invested or just to make yourself do the work at all?

I have excellent news, I literally just figured out something really important about this.

So when you're an ADHD kiddo or otherwise have difficulty staying on task in a structured environment where Task is the Priority, the main way people try to MAKE you stay on task is by removing your access to anything that is not The Task. No phone, no TV, no doodling, no going outside, etc. In practice, this just makes us miserable because it takes the boredom that's always simmering around a 2 or 3 and cranks it all the way up to 11. In the same way that you would have difficulty staying on task if you were in physical pain, this crushing existential monotony makes it very difficult to work. The work might get done simply because you have no other options, but it will not be done quickly or well, and it will take a while to recover from how much it hurt.

What I realized earlier this week is I caught myself doing this to myself. I had 42 pages of background colors to do, and I thought to myself "this sounds really tedious, but I suppose I have nothing better I can do." And I realized what I'd just thought, and got very alarmed.

Because back when I was an ADHD kiddo imprisoned by school scheduling and a million little factors that keep children immobile and restrained, I couldn't stop thinking about how big and exciting the world was, and how much I wanted to be anywhere but here. When I was feeling really crushed in I'd pick a random spot on the maps on my wall and just imagine being there instead of my bedroom. This was the impetus behind almost all of my creative energy. I've said it before - anything is a prison if you can't leave, and being in a prison makes it easy to imagine how amazing things could be outside of it. Aurora's initial worldbuilding was forged in the crucible of fifth grade misery. My enthusiasm for art and my creative drive are inextricable from my sense of wonder and yearning for excitement in the real world. Not escapism, but appreciation. Wonders unimaginable are out there, and I gain just as much joy seeking them out as I do conjuring them up in my head and sharing them with all of you.

So now that I'm a grown-up with actual freedom in every way I've been able to get, the idea that I was staying on task by making myself believe the world was small and not worth seeing was extremely alarming. It could keep me on task for an afternoon, but at the cost of slowly extinguishing the thing that made me want to make art in the first place - the hunger to experience and draw inspiration from all the myriad complexities in the world.

So what I've been doing is I've been purposefully and intentionally taking excursions whenever I catch myself thinking "I could take a break but it wouldn't be worth it, it's the same outdoors as always, I'll be uncomfy and unproductive and tired." Because that is never true. Every time I've put down the stylus and gone out, I've been renewed in one way or another, and when I come back to comfort fully recharged I get a lot of shit done. Because it is easier to work on anything if you remember why you wanted to make it in the first place, and it is self-defeating misery to just lock yourself in with it and tell yourself you're a bad person if you can't get it done.

I honestly don't know how widely applicable this is. I have worse wanderlust than anyone I know, so for me this has always been modeled as imprisonment vs freedom. I've also been extremely lucky to find myself in a profession that lets me set my own pace on literally everything I do. But I genuinely believe that when it comes to making art with ADHD, you need to give yourself freedom to move laterally, not just in the direction of obvious forward progress. We don't think linearly in any other part of our lives - art is no different.

[fans4wga]

"The studios thought they could handle a strike. They might end up sparking a revolution"

by Mary McNamara

"If you want to start a revolution, tell your workers you’d rather see them lose their homes than offer them fair wages. Then lecture them about how their “unrealistic” demands are “disruptive” to the industry, not to mention disturbing your revels at Versailles, er, Sun Valley.

Honestly, watching the studios turn one strike into two makes you wonder whether any of their executives have ever seen a movie or watched a television show. Scenes of rich overlords sipping Champagne and acting irritated while the crowd howls for bread rarely end well for the Champagne sippers.

This spring, it sometimes seemed like the Hollywood studios represented by the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers were actively itching for a writers’ strike. Speculations about why, exactly, ran the gamut: Perhaps it would save a little money in the short run and show the Writers Guild of America (perceived as cocky after its recent ability to force agents out of the packaging business) who’s boss.

More obviously, it might secure the least costly compromise on issues like residuals payments and transparency about viewership.

But the 20,000 members of the WGA are not the only people who, having had their lives and livelihoods upended by the streaming model, want fair pay and assurances about the use of artificial intelligence, among other sticking points. The 160,000 members of the Screen Actors Guild-American Federation of Television and Radio Artists share many of the writers’ concerns. And recent unforced errors by studio executives, named and anonymous, have suddenly transformed a fight the studios were spoiling for into a public relations war they cannot win.

Even as SAG-AFTRA representatives were seeing a majority of their demands rejected despite a nearly unanimous strike vote, a Deadline story quoted unnamed executives detailing a strategy to bleed striking writers until they come crawling back.

Days later, when an actors’ strike seemed imminent, Disney Chief Executive Bob Iger took time away from the Sun Valley Conference in Idaho not to offer compromise but to lecture. He told CNBC’s David Faber that the unions’ refusal to help out the studios by taking a lesser deal is “very disturbing to me.”

“There’s a level of expectation that they have that is just not realistic,” Iger said. “And they are adding to the set of the challenges that this business is already facing that is, quite frankly, very disruptive.”

If Iger thought his attempt to exec-splain the situation would make actors think twice about walking out, he was very much mistaken. Instead, he handed SAG-AFTRA President Fran Drescher the perfect opportunity for the kind of speech usually shouted atop the barricades.

“We are the victims here,” she said Thursday, marking the start of the actors’ strike. “We are being victimized by a very greedy entity. I am shocked by the way the people that we have been in business with are treating us. I cannot believe it, quite frankly: How far apart we are on so many things. How they plead poverty, that they’re losing money left and right, when giving hundreds of millions of dollars to their CEOs. It is disgusting. Shame on them. They stand on the wrong side of history at this very moment.”

Cue the cascading strings of “Les Mis,” bolstered by images of the most famous people on the planet walking out in solidarity: the cast of “Oppenheimer” leaving the film’s London premiere; the writers and cast of “The X-Files” reuniting on the picket line.

A few days later, Barry Diller, chairman and senior executive of IAC and Expedia Group and a former Hollywood studio chief, suggested that studio executives and top-earning actors take a 25% pay cut to bring a quick end to the strikes and help prevent “the collapse of the entire industry.”

When Diller is telling executives to take a pay cut to avoid destroying their industry, it is no longer a strike, or even two strikes. It is a last-ditch attempt to prevent le déluge.

Yes, during the 2007-08 writers’ strike, picketers yelled noncomplimentary things at executives as they entered their respective lots. (“What you earnin’, Chernin?” was popular at Fox, where Peter Chernin was chairman and chief executive.) But that was before social media made everything more immediate, incendiary and personal. (Even if they have never seen a movie or TV show, one would think that people heading up media companies would understand how media actually work.)

Even at the most heated moments of the last writers’ strike, executives like Chernin and Iger were seen as people who could be reasoned with — in part because most of the executives were running studios, not conglomerations, but mostly because the pay gap between executives and workers, in Hollywood and across the country, had not yet widened to the reprehensible chasm it has since.

Now, the massive eight- and nine-figure salaries of studio heads alongside photos of pitiably small residual checks are paraded across legacy and social media like historical illustrations of monarchs growing fat as their people starve. Proof that, no matter how loudly the studios claim otherwise, there is plenty of money to go around.

Topping that list is Warner Bros. Discovery Chief Executive Davd Zaslav. Having re-named HBO Max just Max and made cuts to the beloved Turner Classic Movies, among other unpopular moves, Zaslav has become a symbol of the cold-hearted, highly compensated executive that the writers and actors are railing against.

The ferocious criticism of individual executives’ salaries has placed Hollywood’s labor conflict at the center of the conversation about growing wealth disparities in the U.S., which stokes, if not causes, much of this country’s political divisions. It also strengthens the solidarity among the WGA and SAG-AFTRA and with other groups, from hotel workers to UPS employees, in the midst of disputes during what’s been called a “hot labor summer.”

Unfortunately, the heightened antagonism between studio executives and union members also appears to leave little room for the kind of one-on-one negotiation that helped end the 2007-08 writers’ strike. Iger’s provocative statement, and the backlash it provoked, would seem to eliminate him as a potential elder statesman who could work with both sides to help broker a deal.

Absent Diller and his “cut your damn salaries” plan, there are few Hollywood figures with the kind of experience, reputation and relationships to fill the vacuum.

At this point, the only real solution has been offered by actor Mark Ruffalo, who recently suggested that workers seize the means of production by getting back into the indie business, which is difficult to imagine and not much help for those working in television.

It’s the AMPTP that needs to heed Iger’s admonishment. At a time when the entertainment industry is going through so much disruption, two strikes is the last thing anyone needs, especially when the solution is so simple. If the studios don’t want a full-blown revolution on their hands, they’d be smart to give members of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA contracts they can live with."

[girl4music]

That’s it. Anyone with the “me and my own” ideology will get clapped back.

People that actually care to help people without asking for anything in return will also get their due.

That’s just the way of the Universe.

When you’re already well off, why do you need to be accounted for? Harris specifically was talking about who wasn’t. She was addressing the poor because she knew that’s where things needed to change the most.

The people she didn’t address are not going to be impacted in any negative way. Their lives will stay relatively the same. She didn’t speak to you because she didn’t need to because you’re fine as you are.

On the other hand, Trump is also addressing the poor and minorities. Speaking directly to them. But not with love and care. With hatred and revenge. The opposite.’

He wants to make things worse for them and now he can. So if you voted for him or you didn’t even vote at all - it’s on you why things are going to be much worse from now on. And if you think you won’t be negatively impacted by it because Trump is on your side…

Think again. Because incompetency impacts everyone.

No Harris wasn’t promising the rich and the majorities something. But that didn’t mean she was out to get you. That didn’t mean that she wanted to hurt you.

She simply saw it as you already had what you needed.

There were many others that did not.

She chose to address them.

Look for EVERYONE to live comfortable lives, then everyone has also got to learn to share and to be a community. Giving and getting is a transaction between each other. This is normal. This is natural. This is the way it should be. Greed and hoarding wealth doesn’t really help anyone in the long run and that’s not well understood in America because they’ve lived an entire history through a culture of taking from others. From theft. They never question it not because they’re dumb but because they don’t realize it this is how it’s always been and how it’s always been has always being wrong.

Being afraid of community and socialism. Taught that it’s inherently bad for them and to always look out for themselves and their own first. It’s just not The Way.

Having a black woman as President for the first time would have been revolutionary for them. it would have been a start to setting things right because they’ve never been right. Keeping to tradition doesn’t always mean better because that tradition could be awful. All of this I’m writing right now only sounds so bad because it’s coming from someone that doesn’t live in America but still has lived through a Western culture that’s majorly the same and has never understood it.

See I’m a Westerner but I don’t understand Western culture and I never really have. It’s like I was born with the soul or someone Eastern. Someone whose worldview of philosophy is inherently non-dual because when I look at a person - regardless of what kind of person they are or might be - I don’t see a difference.

We all want to live and thrive and prosper but so many of us have an understanding that goes against that goal just by virtue of “well, what do I get out of it?”

You get what you’ve always had. The means to survive. If you believe that’s not enough then I don’t know what to tell you. It’s more than enough for those that don’t currently have it and are fucking desperate for it.

Bottom line is you’ve got to give a little - to sacrifice or compromise on something - to set the balance right.

Harris was the right person to lead to be able to do this. Or at least make the attempt to. What you have now - with Trump - is a lesson. And I hope you learn it well.

Hatred will never make anything better for anyone. All it does it makes it much much much worse for everyone.

You can call this “virtue-signalling” or being “morally superior” if you want. I don’t care. No, America is not my home. No, I couldn’t vote. It doesn’t matter to me.

But I still very much care about the situation because I am a human being. And I honestly think that’s all that’s needed to do the right thing at the end of the day. If you care about something or somebody other than yourself.

You know politics is whatever but people have forgotten how to be a fucking person and that’s very concerning.

You can play heroes vs villains to your dying day and see how much you’ve “gained” out of doing it then.

Rant over.

White conservative America will vote for whiteness and patriarchy.

White conservative America would rather have Putin in the White House before Kamala Harris.

[tblsomedoodles]

Here's an art/info dump about this stupidly cute idea that's been rotating in my brain for three day.

(the first comic here is just how they first met. they ended up in the same alley, pestering the same cat without noticing. Then the cat left and they notice they're not alone lol)

(Second is Donnie 'talking' with Mikey for the first time. He only uses Mind Mend to communicate and is just as surprised as Mikey to find it worked on him. (it has only worked with Leo before this))

I'll put the rest under a break b/c i will be going off about this and i don't want it to take up your entire feed.

I'm jokingly calling this "Mikey's Imaginary Friends" though that might change if i continue this.

Basically it's this, the twins grew up with Draxum while Raph and Mikey grew up with Splinter. Neither set knew about the other (b/c splinter though they were dead and didn't want his two remaining kids to worry about it, and Draxum was too focused on fixing his lab to pay much attention to the twins.) So, imagine Mikey's shock when, at age 8, he's out exploring topside (having snuck out) and runs into two more mutant turtles (who also snuck out and are exploring.) Thus begins an ongoing sneaking out to meet up thing between the three b/c Mikey's excited to have new friends and the twins are just as fascinated with Mikey as he is with them.

And before you ask, "hey, why doesn't Mikey tell his family about the two other turtles?" he does. Raph thinks he just made up some imaginary friends so he plays along but doesn't believe they're real. Splinter, on the other hand, thinks he's talking to Hamato ancestors due to some very big miscommunications (that i'll probably draw out at some point b/c it's silly)

Twins background wise, i'm still thinking through a lot of it, but i'll put my thoughts down anyways.

Draxum knew that training the twins at a young age would be counterproductive, so he doesn't train them beyond some basics a few times a week. Other than those sessions, he leaves them alone with their less-than-stellar caretaker, in favor of rebuilding his lab. The caretaker doesn't do much for them beyond give them food and very basic school like lessons. Beyond that the twins are left on their own.

they come to the conclusion that the only people that will care for them is themselves. They discover Mind Meld very early as a result of this and will not talk verbally b/c they found out early on with their caretaker, that if they tried to talk, they were just ignored anyways, so what's the point.

(I'm also thinking Donnie might be deaf or hard of hearing in this, with the pair of them using Mind Meld as a way for him to temporarily hear through Leo and thus keep Drax from finding out. but i'll have to do some more research before i decide for sure/figure out the specifics)

as for Meeting Mikey

That's why they became so fascinated with mikey. B/c mikey was the first person that treated them like a person and not a job or an incomplete experiment. (He's also so happy and bright, they can't avoid getting drawn to him lol)

Mikey's probably the only one they verbally start talking to, even after they teach him mind meld. (though Leo's the one to pick up on that more than Donnie. Donnie doesn't do much talking at all outside mind meld).

They also come out of their shells (hehe) a lot as they interact more with Mikey. Before they met him, they acted more like automatons, even when alone. The more they socialize with Mikey, the sillier these two get. Leo learns about puns and starts going mad with them, Donnie starts happy stimming about thing (which he has either been suppressing or just never had the urge to do before.) Basically they stop acting like little creepy statues and start acting like kids.

Honestly, it's just a cute idea with the kiddos meeting each other and Mikey inadvertently socializing his not-well-socialized brothers.

(also, the twins wear masks b/c Donnie doesn't like the smell of the city and he's worried about germs. Not for any ninja reasons, what so ever.)

Alright, that's it for my info dump. maybe more later? Maybe not? Depends on how much longer these kids keep my attentions (though right now, they're doing a pretty good job at it lol)

[flamingpudding]

do you still take requests? if you do can you write your take on this idea https://www.tumblr.com/ilydana/746501696852819968/cloneclonedbatman?source=share

Thanks for the Ask! That's is an interesting one!

Also as long as I can write something to it I don't mind getting requests, if I can't I will let people know if I can. So no worries about that K?

Out of courtesy and because I believe its is the right thing to do here the Link and a Tag to the original writer @ilydana I hope you don't mind that I am taking inspiration from you for this.

Also I don't know Conners Timeline well and I like to base my writings on the Wayne Family Adventures settings so.... yea sorry if I got some facts wrong....

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

Clone double Wamy

Thinks were never easy for the Waynes, Bruce realised that when he sat in the meeting room. Usually he would have confronted his best friend in a more private setting, like when it was just the two of them or only Diana with them. But his best friend had been grating on his nerves with this for a while now. Bruce had honestly believed Clark had gotten better with the whole Clone thing but apparently he hadn't.

"All I am saying is that Conner is a person and to stop referring to him as 'it'." Bruce wasn't sure what had this brought on but maybe it was also having listened to his own kids rants about the way Conner had been and sometimes still was treated by Clark. Usually when someone called his friend out on it he would laugh awkwardly and say it was a slip of the tongue. That he still wasn't completely used to the idea of having a clone.

It's been years and Bruce wasn't buying that excuse anymore.

Well his persistent nagging had now caused this petty fight in front of everyone. He knew his children present, Dick and Tim, would have his back as well as most of their friends. But he also knew that those that prefer to keep the peace would try to argue in Clarks favor to sweep this hole problem under the rug once more.

"You don't get what it is like to be cloned or how long it takes to get used to it!"

His eye twitched under his cowl, he could also feel his kids tense up, especially Tim. His entire family had expirence when it came to cloning. The number of labs from the LoA they had shut down and destroyed was a testament to it. But there was one thing his entire Family aside from Alfred didn't know either.

"I actually do."

He stated calmly watching Clarks reaction as he stared unwaveringly at his best friend. He could see the colour drain, the paling and the pure look of disbelief he was getting, while Nightwing and Red Robin stood up to stand behind him with crossed arms. They probably thought he was referencing the time they had to fight Damian's Clones that sadly couldn't be saved like Conner had been.

"What do you....?" His best friend started but wasn't able to finish his question as Bruce decided to rip the bandaid off.

"The original Bruce Wayne died before he even was one month old. My parents, unable to cope with the loss cloned the baby with the help of a pair of scientist from Illinois." If the situation was different he might have laughed into the faces the people around him were making, not very Batman like of him but it was kind of funny. Still he was thankful for the comforting hand his son, Dick, placed on his shoulder or the way his other son, Tim inched closer protectively like. These two while probably shocked still stood by his side.

"And i was not the only clone that resulted from my parents original grief."

He left it at that as he stood and left the meeting without any further explanation. Bruce had made his point clear, now the ball was in his friends court. He was thankful that his kids followed him out as he went straight to the Zeta-Tubes to return to the Batcave. He knew his kids had questions for him, but he was not willing to answer them in front of the other heroes and thankfully his kids knew that that. So they silently followed him until they were back to the cave.

"B?" Dick asked tentatively once they were back in the came.

"It is as simply as I stated. My parents grieved the loss of their original son and unable to cope they cloned their own child with the help of a pair of scientist." He reiterated his earlier statement not looking at the two at first. For a brief moment he was thankful his other kids were out and about busy with other things.

"A pair of scientists?" Tim propped further and Bruce sighed wondering how much he should tell or if he could keep some things secret.

"Family actually. Estranged but they were... are family." He nodded. "The Fentons. Jack Fenton was my fathers cousin. Because of his field of research he got estranged from the family, not fitting into the perfect image my great grandparents had in mind for the Waynes originally. My father contacted him for help regarding the cloning back then."

"You said you weren't the only one?" He gave Tim a small smile, it was just like him to catch on to the small details and focus his questions on that.

"I didn't know until many years later when my parents died." He smiled a little remembering back to his training with Lady Gotham and how she asked him if he had siblings and then proceeded to introduce him to his clone twin. Ever since then Danny had become quite the fixture in his life, a reconnected family member. Though they had needed a lot of help when it came to actually speaking with each other but that thankfully Danny's sister Jazz helped.

He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him when he noticed Dick's stare of realisation. "Uncle Danny!"

Bruce just smirked, chuckling lightly as he gave his eldest a slight nod. "Danny."

Dick was the most familiar with Danny having meet the other a couple of times when he was younger and just started out as Robin. Bruce wasn't ashamed to say that Danny and Alfred had been the two he had asked for advice the most when he had taken Dick in back then. Danny had already expirence in raising kids from an even younger age than Bruce had. That their two cousins Dan and Danielle were in a way clones too was however something he would not be telling his kids yet. Frankly it wasn't his place and honestly if Danny hadn't become as comfortable as he had with this fact over the year he wouldn't have outed his clone twin to his kids either.

"So...." Tim started, rubbing the back of his head nervously. "...what now? Not that it will change anything now but uh...."

"Nothing really? I mean if Clark still got a problem then well I guess we don't have a super uncle anymore? But hey maybe we could introduce Uncle Danny to Conner?" Dick shrugged turning to Tim.

"But that would mean we admit to Uncle Danny that B let us in in the secret and that could make things awkward and..."

"Tim you are overthinking! It will be fine!"

Bruce smiled as he watched his two sons start to argue wether or not to introduce Danny to Conner. Well even if they did Danny wouldn't mind it. In fact Bruce had kept his clone twin updated on a lot of things that happened with his work as Batman. One of the reasons was that Danny had started out in the hero business way sooner than Bruce had but also because Danny was his last resort contingency plan against everything.

His twin would probably laugh in their faces and ask why it took them so long to introduce them and then drag his own daughter to meet Conner so they could have some 'clone'-bonding time and knowing Danielle, she was going to drag Dan along and then Bruce himself too. Bruce chuckled at that thought, he also knew that if Clark doesn't clean up his act than Danny would most likely swoop in and adopt Conner right out of under Clarks nose.

Well all he had to say if it came to that was that his best friend wouldn't be able to blame anyone but himself then.

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader

part 2 ----->

A/N: My HC is that DogDay has an adult inside of him, unlike Catnap.

“Congragulations! Your application was chosen, and you are now part of the Playtime Co family! Please review all the following information provided in this email.” was all that was said in a recent email I had gotten. Finally, after weeks of job hunting, I heard back from someone, and it only took them a day to respond! I briefly skimmed through the email, knowing it was just boring company policies. At the very bottom it said that my first day was tomorrow. Wow, they sure do not waste time. I set an alarm and went to bed early, excited about my new job. 

---------------- 

When I applied, I put down that I did not mind working anywhere in the factory so imagine how surprised I was when I showed up, they told me I would be working down below in a room called ‘Playcare.’ In fact, it was highly requested that I was to be stationed there. They told me it’s where they house orphans. It’s fascinating that a factory that builds toys for kids has its own orphanage here, right in the factory! I was given a uniform to change into and the uniform was honestly quite cute! The shirt was a golden-brown color that smelled like vanilla, I was given a nametag with a sun pin attached and... a headband with dog ears the same color. I didn’t think much of it and just went to change before heading off to Playcare. 

--------------- 

I stared in awe as I looked down below at Playcare. This place was huge! I still could not believe that little kids lived here. I looked around at all the buildings. There was a school, a circus tent, a few more buildings and right up top was where all the orphans lived. Seeing all of this gave me the vibe of that one anime called ‘The Promised Neverland’ but I soon laughed at the thought. Kids do not die here, no demons feed on their brains, they get adopted. Adopted. 

--------------- 

As I exited the cable car, I was instructed to meet my boss inside of the Playhouse. While walking to the playhouse some kids would run up to me and call me ‘girl DogDay’ whatever that meant. I just smiled and waved at them before entering the Playhouse. I was not given a name for who my boss was but was just told that they would know what I looked like and would spot me. Lots of kids were in this area. All screaming and chasing each other. One of them grabbed my hand and said, “Hurry we have to hide before he finds us!” I had no time to protest as I was led behind some foam building blocks. “Um, who exactly are we hiding from?” I whispered back to the kid, might as well play along. “Shh. He has good hearing.” was all that the kid said before peeking over the blocks we were hiding at.  

--------------- 

Two minutes went by before we both heard some footsteps approaching. “He’s coming! Run!” and then the kid ran into a slide and started to climb up. I laughed at the kids' action and started to get up before I felt breathing coming from above me. I slowly lifted my head up and was shocked to see a giant dog hovering above me. “Hiya Angel!” I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t say anything, I was in shock. This enormous dog that looks like a plushy is speaking to me. “I found you which means now you get to help out with catching everyone!” The dogs tailed wagged. I stood up and got a good look at this...dog thing. He was tall, around 8 ft. He had a pendant in the shape of a sun, and he smelled like vanilla. Oh, that’s what the kids meant earlier by ‘girl DogDay,�� this is DogDay. “Come on Angel, I know if we work together, we can find all the kids before time is up” and then DogDay ran on all fours like an actual dog, in search of the other kids.  

--------------- 

I think it was safe to say that DogDay found the rest of the kids while I just knew of the one that was with me before was hiding at. As we made our way back to the entrance, I noticed the kids laughing and trying to climb onto DogDay. Maybe he’s been with them forever and that’s why they don’t seem terrified by a dog that stands 8 ft tall. DogDay looked over and saw me and the last kid approaching and waved at us. The other kids stopped what they were doing and looked in my direction. In unison they all screamed “Girl DogDay is here!” I smiled sheepishly and waved at them. “Hi there....” Did these kids know about me? DogDay then put down some kids that he was holding and walked over to me. “Sorry about that Angel, I told them that I was getting a helper the other day and they have been wanting to see you.” “Oh, that’s fine. Hey um DogDay was it? Do you happen to know who my boss is by chance? I was told to meet them in here.” The kids behind Dogday started giggling. “You’re looking at him Angel!”  

Huh? He’s joking right? This dog looking mascot is my boss?! DogDay then picked me up and hugged me tight. “We’re going to have so much fun working together Angel.” I could hear his tail wagging back in forth. He put me down and led me to the rest of the kids. “Kids, we have a new face joining us today. Why don’t you introduce yourself to us Angel.” I suddenly felt nervous. All these little eyes staring at me so excitedly. “O-okay, um well hi, my name is Angel- wait no” the kids started laughing. That wasn’t my name but hearing DogDay call me that this whole time just slipped out. DogDay was even laughing. I blushed in embarrassment. I cleared my throat and continued. “My name is Y/N, but I guess you could also call me Angel. I like to read, draw, um I guess sing, but I haven’t done it in a while. Umm, I’m 20 years old and my birthday is on November 14th and that’s pretty much it I think.”  

DogDay clapped and soon the other kids followed his lead. “Well put Angel, now it’s my turn, though I think I’ll let the kids introduce me.” All at once the kids started yelling over each other to tell me about him. “He’s the leader of the Smiling Critters!” “He smells like vanilla!” “Super strong!” “DOGDAY CALLED YOU PRETTY!!” “Okay! Thank you, Damian, no need to shout now friend.” The shift in DogDays attitude changed, he was the one that seemed nervous now. The kid that was hiding with me was named Damian. Dogday then cleared his throat. “Let’s all go outside and wait for KickenChicken now alright?” The kids yelled in delight and pushed their way out of the Playhouse. 

It was now just me and DogDay. “So, um I’m guessing you picked me to work here?” I tried breaking the awkward silence between us. I decided to not bring up the fact that he called me pretty, too awkward right now. DogDay then seemed to snap back into his cheery self. “Yep! I looked through a lot of applicants, but yours stood out to me.” It’s amazing that a toy factory lets a toy pick out an employer. DogDay then grabbed my hand and led me outside. “Come on, I’ll give you a tour of the place Angel.” I smiled and went along with him. I could see myself liking it here.  

A/N: part 2 anyone?

[nxuvillette]

CLASS IS IN SESSION — DR . RATIO

synopsis : vertias decided to have a little bit of fun with you during one of his lectures.

❥- pairings : vertias ratio x fem!reader

❥- note : finally back out of my slump ! sort of.. LMAO. this post was inspired by this thirst, all credit goes to them :) ! i hope you enjoy and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3.

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, use of a vibrator, reader is in class, mentions of hookups, teasing, cum mentions, professor!vertias ( they are around the same age ! ), reader is a bit shy.

It wasn’t smart of you to do, no. You should have shut down Vertias the moment he even thought of the idea, but his persuasion corrupted your mind and made you unable to say no. Then again, it was harmless fun! It’s not like anybody would actually be able to notice the beads of sweat that chased down your face, or how your eyes kept flickering at that damn clock that just couldn’t seem to move any faster.

Down below you was Vertias Ratio in all of his glory. He spoke nonsense about mathematics and how to do the proper formula in order to solve the problem written on the board. You knew he loved nothing better than teaching complete, well, idiots how to do things the right way. The man you had been sneaking around with always spoke negatively about the classmates you had. He said they would probably never obtain great knowledge like he did. 

He hadn’t bat even an eyelash at you the entire time. He was merely too focused on teaching the class he almost forgot about the little vibrating object that was tucked nice and snug between your legs. You, however, were fully aware of the toy that was buzzing away inside your panties. Although it was quite subtle, you were still feeling such a great wave of pleasure against your clit. You were convinced that you had soaked through your panties and were probably making a mess on the chair underneath you, but that wasn’t your biggest concern at all. Honestly, you didn’t know why you agreed to such a lewd thing. It might have been because thrill was something you were into, but then again, thrills came with loads of risk.

The scholar then turned to face the many people sitting inside his lecture hall. His amber eyes landed on you sitting in the third row. Vertias could feel his cock aching in his boxers, knowing that your pussy was probably dripping with arousal. He maintained his serious facade, and decided to have some fun.

He stepped towards the desk at his table, leaning over to hold the controller that went together with the vibrator inside you. Suddenly, the buzzing became more intense. It whirred against your folds and made you snap your thighs together almost immediately. Vertias could hardly hide the smirk on his features when he saw you trembling in your seat and shifting around uncomfortably. How fucking cute.

“(Y/N), do you know the answer?” he questioned, motioning his head at the equation written on the board. 

Your cheeks burned the moment his question registered inside your brain. You couldn’t fucking believe him right now. It was almost as if he was setting you up to embarrass the hell out of you. Not to mention, you hadn’t been paying attention the entire time. You really didn’t know the answer, and you were far too occupied with the burning pleasure between your legs to even think of the solution. 

The many eyes of the people sitting around you were felt. It was becoming an awkward silence given how long you had been quiet for. “N-No, I have yet to s-solve it!” the last few words almost came out like a gasp, because Vertias pumped up the pleasure. 

He didn’t seem to mind your reply. If it was any other person, he would have scolded them with some snarky comment that would have for sure left them feeling stupid. “Do try and work faster next time.” he then turned around, scraping the chalk against the board to begin another equation.

But, just as he finished, the bell signaling that his class was over rang in your ears. You felt immediate relief come over you, but once you caught his eyes looking right at you, you knew that it wasn’t really over for you anyway. 

You began to pack up your things while the other people inside of the room filed out into the hallway. This left you completely alone with Vertias. He was waiting for you down below. It didn’t take you long to reach the man you were secretly fucking for months on end. He could see the way your thighs were shaking and how your breathing was just a bit heavier than usual. He was so fucking thankful that this stupid class was over. Vertias couldn’t hide his bulge any longer.

The taller man pulled you against his body. Butterflies swarmed your stomach the moment you felt his cock pressing against your belly. It was painfully hard. You automatically knew what he wanted by the way his hands were exploring your body. Your hands rested on his muscular shoulders while his fingers traveled below to your skirt. A sigh left his mouth when he made contact with your underwear that were completely soaked through. 

Vertias’ digits pulled your panties aside. His fingertips brushed your clit, making you whimper into his ear. Oh my, you were just so fucking sensitive for him. He loved the way you were melting in his hands like putty. “How dirty of you..” he whispered. “Your pussy is so wet.. you must have been having the time of your life in your seat.”

Your eyes were focused on the ground before you. It felt almost embarrassing knowing what he was doing to you. “Vertias.. please.” you mewled as he played with your sensitive bead. 

He forced you to look at him. His eyes were completely blown with lust and you could just sense how turned on he was. “If anyone asks.. I’m giving you some extra credit, got it?” he raised his eyebrows, waiting for your reply. 

You nodded. “Y-Yes..”

“Good.. now sit on my desk. We’re gonna be here a while..” he whispered, squeezing your lips together.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[edenesth]

The Way to His Heart [3]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 2 | Fic Masterlist | Part 4

"I can't believe I finally have a bed of my own..." You whispered as the head maid disappeared from sight, closing the doors to your room behind her. The sheets were practically brand new, and you ran your hand across the smooth fabric, sighing in content before allowing yourself to lay down.

You failed to understand why the previous noblewomen set to marry Seonghwa would choose to escape from this. In your opinion, the general appeared quite generous.

Despite not knowing you or any of his past fiancées personally, he was considerate enough to provide each and every one of you with accommodation and basic necessities. These were luxuries even your own family had failed to offer you. He was already treating you better than anyone you had ever encountered in your life.

You couldn't fight the small smile forming on your face as you looked around your room, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude. In a short span of time, the general had managed to surprise you in more ways than one, and you certainly weren't complaining.

It still made you anxious to think of facing him again, given your less-than-ideal first meeting. He had already accused you of being insincere but proceeded to be kind in his actions.

Honestly, his behaviour left you perplexed.

At the same time, it ignited hope within you—a hope that maybe, in the presence of the supposedly heartless General Park, you could find the opportunity to change your life, for he had shown you more mercy than your own family ever had.

"Happiness... can I find it here?"

The words escaped your lips in a soft whisper before the unfamiliar soft sheets of your bed welcomed you into a deep slumber. Having grown used to sleeping on the floor back home, the sudden luxury brought an unexpected level of comfort, lulling you to sleep like magic.

Unbeknownst to you, Jongho and Eunsook had stationed themselves just outside your quarters, hoping to catch any suspicious conversations that might indicate your actions were part of a scheme orchestrated by your father to undermine their master. To their relief, they heard nothing of the sort.

"Sounds like she's fast asleep. That was quick." The assistant muttered, a faint smile playing on his lips.

The head maid nodded, her expression softening, "Can you blame her? She travelled all this way by herself. Oh, Jongho, you should've seen her earlier... She was genuinely pleased with this room. Not only that, she apologised for having nothing with her and even thanked me as if I had saved her life, all because of dinner."

Eunsook raised a brow as the younger man didn't appear overly surprised by the revelation. He sighed, "I believe you, all right. When I found her, she was wandering by the front doors alone, without servants or palanquin bearers. And that's not the worst; she bowed back to every servant on the way to the main hall."

The elderly woman nodded eagerly, "Yes, yes! She even bowed to me; it was the wildest thing I have ever seen!"

Jongho shook his head, "Something is definitely up; we have to find out what's happening. I don't believe for a second that the minister would have been okay with his own daughter being treated like this."

Eunsook had to agree.

"Whatever it is, I won't lie that I'm hoping for her to be our mistress for good. She's the first noblewoman not to yell or speak rudely to me. Having one of master is enough; I'm sure we could all use a kind and soft-spoken mistress around here."

The assistant didn't have to say anything for the head maid to understand that he, too, wished for the exact same thing. Despite their loyalty and attachment to the general over the years, they couldn't ignore the fact that his unpredictable anger issues turned him into a ticking time bomb. Tiptoeing around him and walking on eggshells had become exhausting on most days.

Before they could continue their hushed conversation, a servant approached them with wide eyes, "Jongho! Eunsook! The master has summoned you both to his study!"

The two gasped and nodded, "R-right, we'll be there at once!"

Speak of the devil.

Seonghwa's typically composed demeanour seemed overtaken by frustration as he glared at his desk. If looks could kill, the poor piece of furniture might have been sliced in half. The two employees exchanged a wary glance, inhaling deeply to steel themselves before entering the study, "Master, you called for us?"

They stood straight as a plank, anticipating the impending outburst from the general.

But it never came.

"I'm confused." The two blinked, awaiting further explanation.

Yeah, so are we.

"I don't like being confused because I'm never confused. Does she even know who I am? The audacity of this woman..." He muttered lowly, clenching his fists.

It infuriated him that he found it difficult to read you. Usually, he prided himself on being able to see through almost anyone, and this situation wounded his pride, sparking anger within him. How dare you waltz in here and change all that? Who did you think you were? But what he despised even more was his struggle to be angry with you. The innocence in your eyes was impossible to deny.

And he hated it with a passion.

Finally lifting his gaze, he bore a glare into his assistant and head maid, "You two, I want you to tell me every single thing that happened when you were with her."

If Seonghwa believed his confusion would be dispelled after hearing what his aide had to share, he was wrong. He was left feeling more confused than ever.

"She was at the entrance... by herself?"

"Yes, sir."

"Without any servants or palanquin bearers?"

"Yes, sir."

"And she... bowed to all the servants?"

"Yes, sir."

Narrowing his eyes, the general pushed himself off his seat, scoffing lightly in disbelief, "I don't know what she or her father is trying to get out of me, but I will not be foolish enough to walk into their trap. This must all be part of her act; I'm sure of it."

However, the reminder of her currently being at her quarters brings a devious grin to his face, "She can pretend all she wants, but no sane person will willingly agree to stay in The Cold Palace. Tell me, Eunsook, I want to hear all about her reaction to my masterpiece. Oh, it must be priceless."

The head maid cleared her throat, recognising that her master might not appreciate her response, "W-well, you see, master—"

"No, wait, don't tell me," He held up a hand, stopping her abruptly, "I want to hear it from her myself. Get her to the dining hall on time, Eunsook. I'm sure it'll be wonderful; our first and last dinner together."

All the previous candidates for marriage were given quarters that, despite being less than ideal, were still superior to yours. And they all fled at the mere sight of it, unable to endure even a single day. No matter how skilled you were at acting indifferent, the general was convinced that The Cold Palace would likely be your breaking point. He imagined you gaping in disgust, desperately trying to tolerate it for the time being.

Oh, he couldn't wait to see you finally break character and unleash your frustration, berating him for the mistreatment and expressing your disappointment in him. He looked forward to enjoying the view of your back to him, storming away from his estate, never to return.

The Cold Palace has to be a foolproof plan.

It has to be.

Except it really wasn't.

Jongho knew that. Eunsook knew that.

Every other servant in the estate knew that.

But Seonghwa didn't. And that was a problem, a huge one. The assistant and head maid feared for your well-being. They were well aware that pride held great significance for their master, and your presence was undoubtedly going to bruise it severely.

Knowing the general, he wouldn't let you off the hook easily when that realisation hit. They worried about the drastic measures he might take to scare you into leaving.

Eunsook couldn't linger on those concerns for long as the kitchen staff alerted her that dinner preparations were nearing completion. Letting out a deep sigh, she rushed to your quarters, hoping to assist you in getting ready and ensuring you wouldn't be tardy. The last thing she wanted was for you to further get on the general's bad side.

It struck her then that she was already developing a sense of protectiveness toward you, even though she hadn't known you long or well enough to warrant such feelings. Despite her master's adamant belief in you putting on an act, she had witnessed firsthand to know that it was far from the truth.

Approaching the garden path leading to your quarters, she addressed the servants working there, "Has the mistress sought assistance from any of you?" They shook their heads, "No, she hasn't. In fact, she barely made a sound since her arrival."

"Really? I expected her to at least request a bath after the long journey she took to get here. No matter, I'll ensure she's prepared for dinner." The head maid shook her head, finding your behaviour less surprising with each passing moment.

Pausing at your room's entrance, she called out cautiously, "Mistress, may I enter, please?" She heard a faint shuffle and observed your silhouette through the thin paper walls as you approached, "Hold on, I'll be right there!"

She was taken aback to see you hurrying over just to open the door for her, "Oh dear, mistress! All you had to do was grant me permission, and I would have entered. There's no need for you to come all the way just to open the door for me, please!"

The small, sheepish smile on your face had affected the elderly woman more than you realised, her heart melting as she found you incredibly endearing.

"I'm sorry; I'll learn to do that next time."

Eunsook sighed, "You have nothing to be sorry for, mistress." She murmured, observing you with a motherly softness in her eyes.

She wondered if this was the reason the minister had kept you hidden all these years. Perhaps he wanted to shield you from the cruel world due to your innocence and precious nature. But the puzzle pieces didn't fit when she recalled how Jongho had found you – alone and abandoned.

So, what was really going on?

What was going through the minister's mind, and what exactly did you experience to turn out like this?

"Well, I've come to let you know that dinner is almost ready." She observed your face light up at the mention of food, and a simultaneous growl emanated from your stomach, prompting her to chuckle at the embarrassed blush dusting your cheeks.

Why didn't you just ask the servants around to bring you a snack if you were so hungry? Eunsook wondered to herself.

"I'm also here to assist you in getting ready, in case you'd like to change or anything." You shrugged and shook your head, and she recalled your nearly empty duffel bag. Oh dear, you didn't even have clothes to change into.

"That's alright. Let me just tidy up your hair and give your makeup a little touch-up, and we can go. How does that sound, mistress?" You nodded, responding softly, "Yes, please."

The head maid resisted the urge to coo out loud as she led you to the vanity table in your room. She grimaced as she took in the condition of the mirror in front of you, wearing out just like all the other furniture in here. The reflection was no longer clear due to its old age, but you remained unfazed as you waited for her to work her magic.

Not wanting to further waste any time, Eunsook was quick in her movements as she helped comb up the strands of hair that came loose and added some more foundation where your previous makeup was smeared from your little nap.

"There, all set. You look beautiful, mistress."

Your smile faltered slightly at that before you thanked her for the compliment, suddenly being reminded that she would not be thinking that for long. She would no longer consider you beautiful when she sees you without all these enhancements.

"Come, let me take you to the dining hall before we're late." You trailed behind her obediently, your heart thumping in excitement just thinking about what they could be serving for dinner.

Your worries could wait.

For now, just for now, perhaps you could finally experience what it was like to enjoy a nice and warm meal.

Or not.

Your steps slowed down a bit when you caught a glimpse of your new husband already waiting in the hall, "I-I'm having dinner with General Park?" The elderly woman wore an apologetic smile as she nodded, "Yes, mistress."

Of course.

Who else would you need to look beautiful for, if not the general?

Eunsook wished she could warn you of what was to come, but even she had no clue as to what her master could possibly say or do tonight. She could only pray that he goes easy on you, "Let's go."

Entering the dining hall, you felt a mix of nerves and anticipation. The grandeur of the room was overwhelming, and you couldn't help but steal a glance at the general. His stern expression didn't reveal much, leaving you wondering about his thoughts.

The head maid bowed before presenting you, "Master, Miss Jang has arrived for dinner."

Seonghwa nodded in acknowledgement, "Ah yes, I've been waiting. Come take a seat, wife."

"Good evening, my lord." You bowed and approached the table cautiously, settling beside him. Your eyes widened as you marvelled at the colourful dishes laid out, and the tantalising aroma made it difficult to resist the urge to dive in.

Although you hadn't shared any meals with your family, you knew enough to remember the basic etiquette: the eldest or head of the house should start eating first. So, you patiently watched his untouched chopsticks, hoping he would initiate the meal.

To say he was merely annoyed by your apparent fixation on the food would be an understatement. The fact that you remained so nonchalant, especially after spending half a day in that pathetic excuse for a room, irked him. You should have been making a big fuss about it by now.

Instead, there you sat, seemingly drooling at the sight of the food but still polite enough not to start eating first. Your impeccable manners were getting on his nerves.

Still keeping up with the act, huh?

Smirking, he moved his hands from his lap to the table. Your immediate straightening up betrayed your anticipation, thinking he was about to grab his utensils. However, your disappointment was palpable when he only moved to rest his elbows on the table, intertwining his fingers.

"So, tell me, wife. How do you like your new quarters?" He pressed, a sly grin playing on his lips.

This is it; this is your chance.

This was the moment, your opportunity to convey your gratitude for his generosity. Maybe, by expressing your thankfulness, you could open a path for him to consider accepting you more readily as his wife. And then, both of you could finally savour these delightful dishes together.

Unlike you, Eunsook, in her corner, wasn't as optimistic. She tensed immediately, sensing that the impending drama was just about to unfold with his question.

With a wide smile, you started, "Oh, I couldn't be happier with it, my lord. I want to thank you for your thoughtfulness. The room is beyond my expectations; it's everything I could ever wish for and more. It was so comfortable that I'd already had a good rest before coming here."

Seonghwa's grin wavered at your words, his eyes narrowing dangerously at you. You blinked, perplexed by the threatening glare he directed your way despite the genuine sincerity in your words.

After what felt like an eternity, he scoffed in disbelief before growling, "Are you mocking me, Miss Jang?"

You gasped, shooting up from your seat immediately. You shook your head furiously, "N-no, I wouldn't dare! I meant every word—"

But he leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest in amusement, "Is that right? This must all be very entertaining for you, huh? I know you're only here because your father has some ulterior motive. You sure are a skilled actress; I see now that the minister has trained you well all these years. And now you're finally old enough to come carry out his dirty work for him."

Feeling wrongfully accused, you fell to your knees and cried. You wished he would just listen to you, "Please, that's not true..."

Eunsook could only lower her head in pity, wishing there was anything at all that she could do for you, but intervening might get her into a whole lot of trouble. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped for the best.

Rising from his seat, Seonghwa approached and tilted your chin upward, forcing you to meet his gaze, "You can repeat those words all you want, my dear. I didn't expect you to come here and admit to me that easily. I know you and your father are scheming something. Feel free to send him my regards. Tell him General Park is not foolish enough to fall for this little act."

Tears streamed down your face as you bowed all the way down, pressing your forehead against the cold floor tiles, pleading, "I beg you to believe me; that's not true at all."

Suppressing the subtle pang in his chest at the sight of your desperate plea to clear your name, he maintained his resolve, telling himself not to be easily swayed, "If you're so eager to prove your innocence, then you can remain there on your knees all night."

Detecting his head of maid's intention to step in, he shot the elderly woman a warning glare before she could utter a word, "I've lost all my appetite. Dispose of all the food here."

You sobbed against the floor, once again reminded of why they called him the cold-hearted general as you listened to Eunsook let out a strained, "Yes, master," before hearing the sound of your new husband's footsteps stalking angrily out of the dining hall.

All your hopes of sharing a meal and gaining his favour crumbled in just a moment. Even far from your family home, your father still had the means to torment you. You acknowledged that Seonghwa's struggle to trust you was influenced by the minister, and your mysterious identity only complicated matters. A sense of heartbreak overwhelmed you as you questioned if anyone would ever believe your side of the story.

If you were to reveal that the precious eldest daughter of the Minister of Military Affairs had been confined and subjected to torture like a prisoner in her own home for all these years, who would believe you?

The servants exchanged sympathetic glances as they hastily cleared the table, removing all the untouched dishes as per the general's directive. Despite their desire to help you, they understood the consequences of defying their master's orders.

Remaining on the ground even after the other servants left the dining hall, Eunsook knelt beside you, gently trying to lift you up by your shoulders, "Come, mistress. Let me take you back to your quarters."

"N-no! I m-must remain here all night t-to prove my innocence," You whimpered, shattering the elderly woman's heart once more, "Mistress, I'm sure master doesn't really mean that. Perhaps he was only saying it out of anger."

Despite her efforts, she couldn't persuade you to stand. You remained resolute, anchored to the spot. However, Eunsook worried for you. You hadn't taken a single bite of food since your arrival, and it had been who knew how long since your last meal. The idea of you kneeling there all night seemed ridiculous. Surely, her master didn't mean it literally.

« Preview of Part 4 »

Jongho's eyes widened upon hearing the head maid's latest update, "She's still kneeling in the dining hall?"

Deciding they couldn't let this continue, the two staff members gathered their courage and approached the general's private quarters, only to find the room empty. To their surprise, Seonghwa was still in his study at this late hour, an unusual occurrence as he was typically asleep by now.

Perhaps the guilt was keeping him up.

"S-sir, may we enter, please?" The assistant called out, breathing a sigh of relief when their master broke out of his trance and nodded, "What is it? Why are you both still up so late?"

Eunsook nervously cleared her throat, "Master, we wanted to let you know that Miss Jang hasn't moved from her spot in the dining hall since dinner."

The general's eyebrows shot up in surprise before he composed himself, "What a fool. Did she genuinely believe that kneeling all night would prove her innocence? She'll have to do much more than that." He rolled his eyes, but his employees could see through the façade.

"Take her back to her quarters before she frightens the servants who will be there to prepare breakfast soon."

Just a heads up, I apologise if the next part takes slightly longer to come out because I've fallen sick since yesterday. Even for this part, I was working on it between my rest.

Aside from that, thank you for 700+ followers! And as always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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[nocturniashifter]

What makes your dr self so attractive? | PICK A PILE

₊˚๑ How to choose: Close your eyes, take a deep breath and choose the image that caught your attention. ₊˚๑ Disclaimer: All readings are done for entertainment only, don't use my readings as a replacement for legitimate advice. This is a general reading, so take what resonates and leave what doesn't.

Hello, my angels! How long, right? Well, I'm back with another PAP that just came out of the oven. Thank you for the 400 followers 😔🫶. Ready to discover what makes your dr self so attractive? ;)

⊹ ࣪ ˖ masterlist | book a reading with me | tips

⊹ ꒱ PILE ONE ᨦ ♡

"Wow, y/n is just so charming; you can’t help but want to be around them!"

"Every time y/n talks, it’s like the whole room stops to listen!"

"Y/n has that friendly smile that just makes everyone feel at home; it’s hard not to like them!"

Hey, pile one! First off, let me just say that your beauty in your DR is out of this world – so if you scripted that, it’s definitely doing its thing! You’ve got this striking, almost intimidating presence, whether it’s your looks or the way you carry yourself. Either way, it makes you super attractive to a lot of people in your desired reality. Tons of people have a crush on you – especially if you’re a public figure, like an artist, but even if you’re not, the same applies. You’ve got people who would literally be happy with just a glance or a touch, hoping for any little sign of affection from you. It’s like you’ve got a fan club of simps just waiting for your attention, lol. Seriously, people would crawl at your feet, but don’t let it go to your head, LMAO. That said, be careful, because some of these people might be a bit too obsessed and wouldn’t take rejection lightly – if that worries you, I’d definitely recommend scripting affirmations for safety and protection, especially if you’re in the public eye.

People also think everything you touch turns to gold. They see you as this super successful person who just excels at whatever you set your mind to. You’ve definitely racked up a bunch of wins and achievements in your DR, and that only adds to the image people have of you as someone who thrives. Your voice? People find it incredibly attractive – especially if you’re a singer in your DR. You’ve got that kind of presence where the moment you walk into a room, time seems to stop and everything just brightens up, and all eyes are on you.

What really makes you even more attractive is the fact that you’ve been through so much in life, but you’ve come out on top. Your whole life has been a battle for your dreams, and the fact that you never gave up is something people seriously admire about you. On top of that, you’re great company – you make people feel comfortable and at home when they’re around you, which just adds to your appeal.

But here’s the thing, pile one: you’ve probably broken a lot of hearts lmao. You’re like that unattainable halfway crush that a lot of people are into, but you’re just not reciprocating their feelings, lol. People are constantly trying to be friends with you, and it seems like you even start trends without realizing it. You're definitely leaving your mark wherever you go.

⊹ ꒱ PILE TWO ᨦ ♡

"Y/n has this cool, badass energy that just draws people in; it’s impossible to ignore!"

"Honestly, y/n’s style is on another level; it really shows off their strong personality."

"Y/n isn’t afraid to stand up for what they believe in, and that just makes them even more attractive."

Hello, pile two! Let me start by saying that what makes you so insanely attractive in your desired reality is your aura. You’ve got this powerful, badass vibe that screams, “I don’t give a fuck,” and it’s honestly magnetic. A lot of you in this pile are shifting to more intense realities, maybe an anime or one that’s action-packed/dangerous, and your energy fits perfectly. You come off as someone who’s fearless, and that combined with your style, really makes you stand out – your fashion sense is on point, and it doesn’t just reflect how badass you are, but also how unique and authentic you are. People are drawn to you because you don’t try to fit in; you’re unapologetically yourself, and that confidence is incredibly attractive. You radiate this commanding presence that makes people stop in their tracks. There’s something about you that captivates those around you, like they can’t help but be intrigued by you. People are definitely hypnotized by your vibe – whether it’s your intense stare, your boldness, or just the way you carry yourself like you’ve seen and conquered it all. It’s almost as if the world bends to your will, and trust me, people notice that.

Even though you have this tough, badass exterior, there’s more to you. People also see you as someone who is selfless and would do anything for the greater good – this especially applies if you’re shifting to a reality where you’re a hero or someone who fights battles. You stand for justice, fairness, and equality, and that moral compass of yours only adds to your attractiveness. You have this strong desire to make life better for not only yourself but for the people around you, and that determination is something others admire deeply.

For those who are lucky enough to be close to you, there’s this undeniable sense of loyalty you exude. You’ve got that “I’m all in for you, no matter what” energy, and it’s clear to your inner circle that you would go to extreme lengths for the people you love. You’d take a bullet for them, and they know it. That kind of dedication makes you stand out in a world where loyalty can be hard to find. However, with that loyalty also comes your overthinking nature. You sometimes get anxious and worry too much about things going wrong in your relationships, but that just shows how much you care.

On the flip side, you don’t tolerate any bullshit. If someone’s toxic, you don’t hesitate to cut them off, you have no time or patience for people who try to drag you down, and you’re not afraid to remove yourself from harmful situations, no matter how tough it is. You always find a way out, and that resilience is something people admire about you. It’s like you’re unstoppable, and that only adds to the mystery and allure you bring into every space you enter.

⊹ ꒱ PILE THREE ᨦ ♡

"Every time y/n walks into a room, it’s like they own the place; they really know how to grab attention!"

"I mean, with all that charm and confidence, it’s no wonder everyone is trying to get close to y/n!"

"Y/n just has this way of putting themselves first and cutting out the drama; it’s seriously appealing!"

Hey, pile three! Let’s dive into what makes you incredibly attractive in your desired reality. When you walk into a room, heads turn, and it’s as if the world stops for a moment – people can’t help but admire you. You command attention wherever you go, and your popularity is through the roof. Just like in the other piles, you have this knack for getting what you want, especially when it comes to material things – money is not an issue for you, so you can pretty much buy anything your heart desires. It’s as if the world is at your feet, and that undeniable confidence only amplifies your allure.

However, with great popularity, fame, and wealth, there are those who might approach you out of pure interest or ulterior motives. It’s essential to stay vigilant because not everyone has your best interests at heart. Some people may want to be around you just to use you or bask in your glow, so it’s vital to discern who your true friends are. Just like in pile one, many people desire you, but you come across as somewhat unattainable, which only fuels their admiration and frustration when they realize you won’t reciprocate their feelings. You’ve got this vibe that screams, “Someone is going to be heartbroken today, but it won’t be me!” because you know how to prioritize yourself above all else.

Your badass energy comes from everything you’ve been through; you’ve learned to fight and emerged stronger. You absolutely do not tolerate any bullshit, especially in relationships. If someone isn’t treating you right, you won’t hesitate to cut them off. This attitude extends beyond romantic partnerships; it applies to every aspect of your life. You’ve learned your worth and have no problem walking away from toxic situations or people who don’t respect you. For you, life is about enjoying every moment, and you live it to the fullest. If you were to end a relationship, you’d be out celebrating while your ex sits at home, missing you – that’s just the energy you exude – free and unapologetic. You’ve literally built your own empire, which is incredibly attractive. Each challenge you’ve faced has only added to your strength and resilience, and people are drawn to that. Interestingly, you look especially stunning when you wear red; it highlights your confidence and adds to that fierce energy you naturally possess.

If you have a s/o in your desired reality, they absolutely adore you and feel incredibly lucky to call you theirs. They see you as irresistible and find it hard to contain their excitement when they’re around you. Your presence lights up their day, and they think about you constantly, eagerly awaiting those moments together. Expect plenty of passionate encounters because they’ll make it clear that they love you deeply, wanting to show you just how much you mean to them. In their eyes, no one could ever love you as profoundly as they do, and they are determined to prove it every chance they get 😏.

That was it, guys! I really hope you liked it. See you next time! ♡

© nocturniashifter - don't copy, redistribute or edit my content | moodboard

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

waking up in his bed

(cw: age gap 25/41, nsfw, mdni, marks, a bit of spit stuff, dry (wet?) humping, swallowing)

part before: hanging off König's shoulder

When I open my eyes up again, for just a moment, I don’t know where I am. My own confused image stairs back at me – right, the mirror on his ceiling! And I laugh to myself because it’s ridiculous. The whole concept is!

I stretch myself, yawning. Realising that I’m alone in the kingsize bed. I mean, it would be impossible to miss the big guy. I still feel his lingering touches, the way he held onto me as we fell asleep together. Reminders of the first time hooking up after the concert.

I’m somebody who normally can’t sleep in a tight embrace, but he was pratically latching onto me both times. Subconsciously in his sleep. Holding onto me, softly still. If it were possible for him to wrap himself around me completely, I bet he would’ve done it. His big arm resting over my torso, the forearm securely between my breasts, his hand on the side of my face. One of his legs strewn over one of mine. Almost like a human weighted blankie. And I still slept soundly.

I yawn and stretch again, until I notice a little piece of paper stuck to my arm. I peel it off and look at it.

That explains where he went off to, but it also makes him out be a liar, because I don’t believe I look anywhere near cute in the morning. Drooling into the soft pillow underneath my head. My hair standing off to the side. Probably snoring as well.

And I have to laugh as I see the little doodle in the right corner. Honestly, it’s a relief to see – considering the man’s many talents – that he isn’t good at everything. Drawing doesn’t seem to be his forte. But at the same time, this was painfully cute. The note, the doodle, everything. I giggle to myself and finally pull back the covers.

I assess the ‘damage’ while I get up: Booty hurts a little bit, probably from getting fucked into the hard wood surface of the bar. The muscles in my legs are a little tense, my shoulders and neck feel a bit stiff, and my pussy is a little bit sore (and deeply satisfied). The hickeys and the faint bitemark on my inner thighs bring a little smile to my face. It couldn’t have been clearer if he had written ‘König was here’ in waterproof sharpie on them.

I put on my shirt, still not daring to take one of his because of how it might look, and curse myself because I didn’t pack more clothes. It’s not terribly stinky or stained, but it definitely looked better yesterday. I quickly brush my teeth, my eyes darting to the shower, remnants of last night in the forefront of my mind before I go on a search for my panties.

I find them on the floor in the bar, the memories of yesterday flooding me, the forgotten cocktail still on the bar. He had to make another one, because the icecubes had already melted and the gin was warm.

I leave the cellar going up the stairs until I stand in the living room again, looking at the books I set aside yesterday.

There is another crystal tumbler on the end table, this one empty. Just one because we shared it.

The glass moving from my hand to his and back, while we were listening to music, talking. Cuddling on the couch. My legs splayed over his thighs, barely reaching all the way to the other side. His arm around my waist, his thumb painting little circles over my hip. My fingers tangled in his hair and digging into the scalp, massaging gently until he was humming quietly.

His mouth placed on the glass where mine was, just a moment before, taking another sip.

Lingering kisses, slow and sweet, turning into little sips of the drink being passed between us. Tasting him and the gin at the same time. A heady combination.

I felt myself getting sleepier and sleepier the later it got, until I yawned and almost fell asleep in his arms, then he finally got me to agree that we should head to bed.

I hear the front door open, the sound ripping me from my memories. I turn around, skipping in that direction.

König is standing in the hallway, taking off his shoes, a grocery bag in his hands. In his usual leatherjacket, shirt and… sweatpants? Casual black sweatpants. Yeah no, I totally feel normal about them. I can’t help but ogle him, because he looks like a wet dream, even in the most mundane outfits.

He sees me, his face lighting up in a grin. “No pants again, huh?”, he comments, his eyes dropping down my body.

I blush. “Uh, I can put some on, if it bothers you.”

He laughs. “Doncha dare hide that cute ass of yours.” He comes closer and leans down, dropping a kiss onto my mouth and his hand to my ass. Patting it twice, quickly and playful. “I almost didn't want to leave bed this morning...”, he whispers against my lips and deepens the kiss, for just a moment.

“I got your note.”, I say as we tumble into the kitchen.

He puts the shopping bag down on the counter. “Yeah, went to the supermarket. And I also got us some croissants from the bakery.”

“The little shop at the corner to Main Street?”, I ask.

“Yes.”, he smiles.

“Hell yeah, I love their croissants, they're the best.”, I exclaim.

“Baked goods, the only thing the french are good at.”, he comments pointedly.

“Oh man, you and the french.”, I laugh as I hop onto the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker. Watching him unpack the groceries and getting said baked goods.

He pulls one croissant out of the brown paper bag and hands it to me unceremoniously. I grab it and take a bite, the flakey dough bursting as my teeth cut through it. The little sigh that drops from my lips sounds a little too enamored, a little too enthused for just eating a croissant. He looks at me, his jaw dropping just a bit.

“What?”, I ask, still munching on the pastry dough.

“Nothing.” He shakes his head mumbling something that sounds a bit like "never thought I'd be jealous of a fucking croissant".

That makes me laugh. "Thanks for getting them, but you didn't need to get up early for that."

He shrugs. "I'm an early bird anyway out of habit, and I had to go out and buy some milk, because I forgot about that.", he explains, pulling said milk out of the grocery bag.

I look at him, a little confused.

"I drink my coffee black, so I never have any milk at home.", he adds, as if that was a given.

A grin stalks on my face. “Of course you do.”, I say pointedly.

“Now, what's that supposed to mean?”, he asks.

I tilt my head and pull my brows up, all like 'are you being serious?'. “Let's just say that I would have been way more surprised if the over 40-year-old metalhead, who has a car that looks like it's from the nineties, who still collects vinyls and CDs, who would rather drink his gin neat and who's biggest kitchen appliance is a barista coffee machine with all the knick-knacks – if he drank a latte in the morning.”

He laughs, the hearty sound making me all giddy. “Tell me how you really feel.”, he says, his eyes sparkling at me, while jokingly clasping one hand over his heart.

“Sorry.”, I say, grinning at him.

He waves it off. “Don’t be, I deserved that.” He gets some coffee beans ready, putting them through the grinder and then fitting the portafilter into the barista machine.

While the coffee drips down into the cup, he comes closer standing right in between my knees. “But, how about you, missy? Do you like a latte in the morning?” The little quirk of the corner of his mouth is telling me that this isn’t just some question about my coffee preferences. It’s one of his telltale signs.

“I do, but I feel like I'm missing the joke here.”, I say, looking up at him. Sitting on the counter, he still towers over me, more than a head taller than me.

He chuckles. “Well, ‘Latte’ is also another word for boner in German, so...” He sees the grimace I'm making and laughs some more, and I join in, while shaking my head. He steps away and repeats the process, getting another coffee ready.

"I'm starting to think that your language only has dirty innuendos and curses.", I remark, jokingly.

He grins. "That just might be my vocabulary." He pours some milk into a metal jug and froths it, adding the froth to the mug after the coffee is ready. Wincing at the shitload of milk he put in. "Here, a latte for the lady.", he says, while handing me the mug.

My eyes drop down of their own volition, as I take it from his hands. Openly staring at his crotch, where his sweatpants are clearly tented by his dick. And he comes even closer with the way I'm looking at him.

My gaze pans up again until it lands on his face, his expression stoic, as he’s pulling an eyebrow up, like he’s awaiting what I’ll do. I take a drink, tasting the coffee on my tongue. "Thank you. For the latte." Trying to hide my grin behind the mug. "Sir.", I add, cheekily.

He leans forward, placing his hands on either side of me, caging me in. The look in his eyes burning into me. I still grin up at him, but I feel like I'm in danger. In danger of getting devoured like one of those flaky croissants.

"You wanna say that again with your lips around my dick? Hm?", he asks and my breath halts. Thinking about yesterday again. When I sat on his bed, gagging around his cock.

"Maybe.", I whisper. He just leans down to kiss me and I can taste the bitter coffee on his tongue, as it strokes against mine. Slow and deep.

I put the cup down to the side before my arms reach up, holding onto his shoulders, his hair falling to the front, the tips of it brushing over my skin. I push some of it back, my fingers tangle in the long strands, while I answer his kiss.

He's not breaking away, still caging me in, even though one of his hands moves to my panties. The fingers toying with the hem, easily slipping under the fabric. My legs spread even wider, I squirm into his touch and our kiss gets messier, sloppier. His thumb finds my clit, softly pressing against it, and the light touch makes me needy for more.

"Fuck, please.", I whimper into the kiss, and I can feel his lips turn up into a smile. He breaks away, keeping up the constant brushes against my clit, kissing down to my neck.

My hand tries to reach for his dick, but he catches my wrist. "Just- let me.", he murmurs, pressing his hot mouth against my pulse point. Sucking on it softly. A needy mewl escapes me when his middle finger slips into me. Just one digit, not quite enough to fill me up, even with his big fingers.

Soft teasing touches, enough to get me worked up, but not enough to get me anywhere near finishing. And he knows what he's doing.

König pulls back, his lids hooded, his gaze intently on me, which makes me acutely aware of the expression on my own face, the O shape of my mouth. His finger is still moving inside me, the brushes against the most sensitive spot make me squirm.

I teether on the edge of an orgasm, until he pushes another one inside me, filling me up. His fingers move fast now, against my fluttering walls. Coaxing the release out of me and I come, pulsing around them. Leaving me wet and needy for more touches.

He pulls the panties over my pussy again, the fabric soaking up my juices in an instant. His hand clasps over it, softly massaging over it, until they soaked wet with my own juices.

König simply pushes his sweatpants down, pulling out his cock, letting it rest against my clothed pussy. Then he spits and a dollop of saliva drops onto my panties. The sound alone makes me whimper, while I lean back until my shoulderblades hit the cabinets behind me.

The spit runs down, right over the tip of his dick. He drags it through it, spreading the wetness on his length, soaking my underwear even more. Slow and deliberate, taking his time. The slick just being enough, so he can flit over it.

I groan at the sight, the filthy little move making me even hotter. He pulls up one eyebrow while looking at me, the smirk on his lips infuriatingly cocky. He ruts his hips forward, his hard dick pushing against my pussy lips and clit. The friction due to the fabric in between us, against my sensitive skin, is almost too much to handle, my hands gripping his arms, nails digging into his biceps.

His hands splayed on my thighs and he looks down, my eyes following his until we're both fixed on the spot where he is rubbing himself against me. The little hickeys on the skin next to it. His thumb coasts over the bitemark on my inner thigh, a faint imprint still showing up. He lifts his hand for just a moment, pressing a kiss to his pointer and middle finger and then pressing them onto the mark.

If I wasn't so wound tight from his teasing touches, I think I would've actually awww'ed at the little gesture, him kissing the bite better. Like this, I only sigh, grinding against his dick, searching for more friction.

He slumps forward, his forehead resting against mine. "Fuck, I need to be inside you.", he grunts, his words sending a shiver down my spine. He lifts me from the countertop, my legs wrapping around him.

"What, no magic condoms appearing out of thin air this time?", I tease him, my fingers stroking over his shoulders.

“The magician is out of props for such stunts.”, he grumbles. “And there will still be enough time to fuck you on every surface in the whole house.”

He hurries upstairs to the bedroom where he sets me down on the bed and we both scramble to get off our clothes. I pull my shirt over my head and fall into the soft mattress, watching him shed his. His dick is hanging out his sweatpants, half caught in the waistband, bobbing up and down with his movements before he lets the pants fall down to the floor.

He grabs a condom out of the pack that's lying out on the nightstand, the packaging torn at the front, and puts the rubber on.

My eyes pan up from the dark fluff of his happy trail, the tummy, the upper abs and his huge pecs, dark hair peppered over them. His nipple piercing. The broad shoulders, adorned with black ink that spans down his arms as well. Trying not to look at the parts where cuts and other scars disturbed the otherwise impeccable images inked into the skin.

He looks back at me, from underneath his eyebrows, one of them quirking up, as he climbs onto the mattress, his weight pushing it down.

I yelp and giggle, as he grabs me by the hips, pulls me into him, until the swells of my ass hit his thick thighs. My legs drop to the side on their own, and he takes that as the invitation it is, his hand pulling the wet panties to the side and just slipping into me.

We both groan as he settles deep inside me, the stretch of his thickness making my head drop back and my eyes roll back.

His hand catches my chin, softly digging into it. Making me look up as he sits back on his knees and slowly starts to fuck me.

“See how fucking pretty you are?”

His eyes are on me, on my face, while I look up at the mirror, focused in on the point where we are connected. Seeing how his dick pushes into me, until he's balls deep, his tip pressing up against my cervix.

Sliding out, inch by inch, almost completely pulling out. In again. I feel the stretch as my pussy takes him in. It's a tight fit, but I'm wet and dripping from how he worked me up.

And out. The feeling of emptiness only dissipates, when his hips snap forward, filling me up quickly, and a moan drops from my lips, the shape contorted to an O.

He starts to fuck me harder, his hand coming around my throat, his fingers closing around my neck, gentler than I would have liked. Pulling me into him while he pounds into me. His hand is other still grabbing onto my panties, the fabric aching as he uses it as leverage to move me into his thrusts.

Rip.

The sound of fabric ripping cuts through the otherwise soft erotic soundscape. The drowsiness drops out of his gaze, his eyes widen in shock, as he looks down, stopping his thrusts. "Scheiße, sorry.", he curses.

I laugh a bit while I shake my head. "Don't worry, it's just clothes.", sitting up on my elbows, reaching out for him. Needing him to continue.

He lets go of them, the fabric hanging from my hips, and leans forward, pressing a deep kiss onto my mouth in apology. His hand softly strokes the side of my face, his thumb caressing my cheek. Close, so close, his forehead resting against mine, as he rolls his hips against me.

He straightens back up, picking up his thrusts again. His arm spans over my whole body, the muscled limb covering half of me. I feel so small compared to him, the contrast so stark when I'm splayed out like this in front of him.

His hand moves down a bit and his thumb pushes against my lips. I lick it, play with it and then release it with a pop, but just a moment later two of his fingers push into my mouth again.

He sinks in deep, my lips closing around them. Two is almost too much already. I start to lick them, to suck on his fingers, hesitatingly at first, but the little sounds that drop from his lips spur me on.

He moves them in unison with the pushes of his dick into me. The combined touches making me lose my mind fast. It almost was like he was fucking me from the front and back at the same time.

I gag around him, spit coats his digits as I suck them off like I would another part of him. And I guess, he is thinking about that as well, the heat in his gaze intensifying.

The sight mirrored back to me – of his dick pounding into me, while his fingers are fucking my mouth all sloppily, pushing into the wet heat, my lips barely reaching the lettering on his knuckles, is getting me worked up.

From the way he's looking at me, his eyes fixed on my face, while I swallow him up, it's driving him crazy too. Groaning, as I take him deep.

Him, just him, fucking me. And me at his mercy. Full, so full of him. And I can't help but think about what it would be like to have him fill all of my holes. The thought alone sends a tingle of filthy desire down my spine and I hum around him.

"Fuck, look at you, taking me so well.", he drawls. His words, the soft growl in them, wash over me and I can feel the zap of pleasure deep, when he bottoms me out, his dick hitting the right spot again.

I come, my body arching off the sheets, my sighs and screams muffled by the fingers in my mouth, as my eyes roll back.

He doesn't stop, fucking me through it. My pussy squeezes around him, and while I still come down from the orgasm, I can feel his other hand grabbing my hip, holding tight. His fingers still in my mouth, stroking against my tongue. Sinking into my throat, the letters on his knuckles disappearing as he pushes further in, and I gag around them once again.

They leave my mouth, all of a sudden, and I take a deep breath. "Please fuck, I-", he groans. "I want to come in your mouth. May I?" The inflection in his voice is almost pleading.

I nod, the thought alone sending another shiver of arousal through me. “Yes.”, I answer breathlessly, still a little hazy from my orgasm.

He pulls back entirely, his dick slipping out of my pussy. I scramble onto my knees, while he gets up from the bed, standing in front of it.

Getting off the condom quickly, his hand running up and down his length, continuing to chase his release. My spit is still on the two digits that were just inside me, now slowly coating his cock.

I press a soft kiss to the tip that is leaking precum, tasting the saltiness on my tongue. Flicking it over the piercing. My eyes pan up, searching for his, before I take him a little deeper into my mouth. Sucking on his tip while he jerks himself off. Hasty and desperate. A rumbly moan shakes his chest, his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck, gonna cum.", he mutters, the words all breathy.

I hum around his dick, licking and sucking eagerly, when he spills onto my tongue and down my throat. I lick up every single drop, swallowing it all. He shakes and shivers when I don't stop sucking until he's spent.

I release him with pop, when his fingers grip my chin, and open my mouth to show him. "Good fucking girl.", he drawls, the praise washing over me, as I sit back on my knees. He crouches down a bit, his eyebrows raised in anticipation. Like he's waiting for something, but he doesn't say anything.

My cheeks blush red, as I remember what we talked about before. "Thank you, Sir.", I say, looking him straight into his eyes.

His answer is a deep satisfied sound, almost turning into a growl, as he leans forward, capturing my mouth in a kiss. Crawling into bed again, pulling me onto his front, until I’m strewn over him like a blanket that isn’t even big enough for the big man. He’s softly stroking my back, the touches comforting and gentle.

I push my cheek into his pecs, the hairs on his chest tickling the soft skin, and I breathe in his scent. The warm calming tone. I feel his upper body rising and sinking with every single breath of his, until we are in unison. The deep calmness almost carries me away, and I feel myself getting sleepy. I mean, we didn’t get a lot of sleep. And getting fucked liked this was tiring, although not tiresome at all.

In the silence around us, a thought of mine cuts through post-fuck haze.

“I don’t wanna go home.”, I whisper against his chest, after looking for the right words to say.

His hand stops for just a second. “Then don't.”, he answers simply, continuing his soft caresses.

I lift my head from his pec, looking at him. “Are you sure? I don't want to disturb your vacation.”, I ask.

“I'm not on vacation, I'm on leave.”, he explains. “And you're not disturbing anything.” A little reassuring smile is appearing on his lips.

“I didn’t bring much though. Not even like any more clothes.”, I say hesitatingly.

“Would it be terribly selfish of me to put you in my stuff to keep you here?”, he asks, the smile widening a bit.

I laugh. “I fear, I won't fit into any of that. I mean, I think I could build a tent to sleep in from the shirts you wear.”

“That's fair.”, he grins at me, pushing my hair out of my face. And then he kisses me again, sweet and slow, until I sigh against his lips.

“You have to stop kissing me like that.”, I say, teasingly.

His smirk drops from his face. “Why?”, he asks.

“Because it makes me want to sit on your dick again.”, I jokingly confess.

He starts laughing, his whole body shaking. “That can be arranged.”, he grins at me.

“But – we can’t stay in bed the whole weekend.”, I retort.

“We can’t?”, he pipes up, his question somewhere between a pouty joke and sincere query.

I think about it for a second. “Mmh, I don’t know. Might tire you out, old man.”, I tease him, sticking my tongue out at him.

His eyes light up, all of a sudden, I get flipped, the whole world is spinning around me. He is on top of me, his weight presses me down into the mattress. His thighs spread my legs for him, his dick lying over my tummy, already hard again.

He grabs another condom. “If you keep this up, we’re gonna go through the whole packet.”, he jokes, one side of his mouth topping up in a smirk.

“Is that a challenge?”, I ask, caressing down his chest, inching in on his dick, while he is still fiddling with the rubber.

He grabs my wrists and pins them over my head, stretching me out on the mattress, while I grin up at him, splayed out like that.

“If you want it to be…”, he whispers against my face, his lips kissing down to my neck while he pushes inside me.

The mug on the kitchen counter is still half full, the coffee now cold. I take a sip, relishing the milky liquid running down my throat. Sitting here at the kitchen island in just his shirt. The Dark Tranquility one he wore when we first met.

“What are you doing?”, he asks me, utterly confused, as he sees me. He put on his sweatpants again and they are as delicious as they were before. Especially in combination with his naked chest.

“Finishing my coffee.”, I explain, taking another long sip.

“But that’s… cold.”, he says, the disgust palpable.

“Yeah, I like it like that. I drink them lukewarm. At best.”, I explain, with full confidence.

“Woman, you drive me crazy.”, he sighs, then laughs, making himself another coffee. Fresh, hot and black. “One of these days, we’re gonna manage to drink the drinks at the temperature they’re so supposed to be enjoyed at.” The loud noise of the coffee maker cuts through my laughter.

“We can certainly try.”, I say, taking another sip from my blasphemous coffee.

“So, about your stuff.”, he starts, as he leans against the kitchen island. The mug in his hand is looking ridiculously small compared to him. Just like me.

“Yeah, my panties are kinda ruined now, too.” I say and shoot him a pointed look.

“I don’t have any panties that will fit you.”, he says, the corner of his lips quirking up.

“No shit sherlock.”, I remark sarcastically, lifting the shirt that is hanging from my shoulders. That’s almost reaching to my knees. You could fit three of me in there.

“We can go to your apartment, you can look after Mimi and get some clothes, and then come back here. It’s no big deal.”, he suggests.

I sigh. “You sure?”

He nods, just waiting for my answer patiently. While I contemplate if it was okay to stay here for longer.

“Okay, quickly, just to get some stuff.”, I agree.

When we go to leave, I notice that my shoes are neatly lined up, not at all how I left them, when I stormed into the house yesterday evening. Standing just right beside an old pair of his combat boots.

next part: painting his nails or more stuff in the Masterlist ~

[corseque]

I wanted to make a last-minute prediction post based on what I’ve seen so far. I haven’t looked at new Dragon Age news for the past couple (3? 4?) weeks, and I know I’m (on purpose to avoid spoilers) missing some (probably a lot of) details that other people already know. I DON’T WANT TO KNOW. So if I’m already right or wrong about something,

PLEASE please DON’T TELL ME.

You can come back in a month and tell me THEN. It’s just one more month to wait.

Also, this is just for fun, and it’s not serious. It’s based on vibes and also based on what I would write myself. I have developed a surprisingly specific image of what might happen to Solas and I’m just want to write it down.

I’m thinking “there is no possible way this is right………” but then I’m like “unless…..?” so a vague chance of potential spoilers

First, I’ve been suspicious about the elven gods getting free and Solas being trapped. If you think about what Solas says in Trespasser, it’s very

Part of Solas’ aim that has so far been revealed to us is he likely wants the Veil torn down, and one of the only things that is keeping him from that is the reality of the elven gods trapped in there, who would be released.

Inquisitor: “If you destroyed the Veil, wouldn’t the false gods be freed?”

Solas: “I had plans.”

But that is no longer a concern from that moment in the gameplay trailer where they are released. 

“I intend to restore them. Doing so will most likely destroy your world.”

Two elven gods rampaging across Thedas sounds like the kind of “the world is being destroyed” situation Solas was talking about. It is his incision that breached their prison, and it isn’t impossible that Rook may have been almost manipulated into completing it. I wonder if Solas is playing his two sets of enemies against each other yet again?

In the old tales, Solas uses his enemies to fight each other while he is tied to a tree, trapped. He gives both sides equal advice until they are both defeated, at which point he frees himself and finishes what he set out to do. 

Honestly, even though he’s “trapped,” it sounds exactly like the sort of thing that needs to happen for his work to continue.

(All of this is speculation that I think I’ll have a better idea about once I hear the full first conversation with him, and exactly how he words his point of view of what happened. If he’s very squirrelly in his wording, I’ll know he may have caused it on purpose.)

“I seek regeneration,” he said in Vows & Vengeance. The devs had said that Solas has been bringing back magic for centuries before the series even started. Perhaps it explains why the dragons have returned. It seems that his reshaping the world, regenerating it, will be successful because it seems to be moving steadily without him. So maybe this is a last and, once in motion, inevitable step in “healing” the injured world.

I think that the elven gods are very scary and world-ending, but Solas is the only one of them that reshaped the world successfully. He will be the one to do it again, not Ghilan’nain or Elgar’nan or any other god. He is a trickster his, and Tricksters are the Gods of Inevitable (otherwise catastrophic) Change.

One of the greatest criticisms of Inquisition was the lack of screen time Corypheus had. And how the climax fell flat at the end because he didn’t have enough screen time. This leads me to believe that Solas may be the “Last Boss” of DA4. Because we definitely HAVE a complicated satisfying personal relationship with him that has been set up for two whole games.

So the ending for Solas needs to do a lot of things:

“These are the times in which legends are born or slain” Solas as the Dread Wolf will die

It needs to work for both people who love and hate Solas

In order to defeat the Elven Gods, Rook has to find their weakness, which is Solas’ weakness too (maybe a fatal flaw, or how they can be truly killed) so it can be used on Solas too. Perhaps this will involve Solas trying to obscure this from Rook as best as he can

Solas fully is on Rook’s side against the evanuris, but when they’re taken care of, he doesn’t need to team up anymore

I don’t believe that you will be able to stop Solas’ plans, and I hope that they will change Thgedas’ world no matter what. I hope it’s just a fact of life that the Veil comes down

The story basically needs to involve Solas betraying Rook again, because new players need to experience that feeling in order to be in the same place with him as they were in DA3

It needs to give players a torn situation about him, one that makes you feel he’s reasonable but at the same time make it satisfying to fight him. So I believe this is why he will betray the player again, even if he is getting along with them.

I believe there needs to be a boss fight against Solas because he does have a cool big monster form and people have been promised to be able to kill him

It needs to be satisfying for those who romanced him too, but it also needs to be beautifully sad because part of the draw of the romance compared to all the others in the series is that it’s beautifully sad

For that reason, I suspect (not because I particularly want this to happen, I’m just saying what I see most likely) is that fighting and killing Solas may not actually be optional, and he is killed in every worldstate. This way, everyone gets a last boss fight and everyone experiences pretty much the same story without much branching 

I think the difference between friendly and unfriendly version may be whether he is brought back to life by the efforts of those who care about him after he is killed

So basically:

Veil comes down/magic comes back

Solas helps Rook take down evanuris

Solas betrays Rook when it seems the story should be over

Boss fight with Solas as the Dread Wolf (see: my Tulpa Theory)

Solas is defeated and killed

Story ends there if Solas is hated, (story about Rook getting revenge)

If Solas is loved, Solas is brought back and rebirthed in another freer form through a spirit ritual, perhaps as Wisdom, but some part of it is bittersweet like Rose and Doctor 10 (story about regret).

But basically, no matter how Solas and Lavellan’s story ends, their love enduring will be the path to joy, or them being together. Rook can kill Solas and Lavellan can bring him back. Even if it has to just happen off-screen or in fanfic.

I think it is very likely that Solas kills Varric or another character as a way to transition from passive threat to active threat. Or maybe Rook is responsible because of the theme of regret, idk. But I think we’ll get a great cathartic end for Varric probably.

I think we may have to choose between Varric and the Inquisitor, because it’s similar to the Hawke-Alistair choice

I would be very surprised if the story ended with Solas and Lavellan went off into the sunset together in a perfectly happy ending with nothing bittersweet. But sadly, I don’t really see this happening and I think bittersweet may be the name of the game.

Other things I predict:

We can assume that the Inquisitor will have an optional death scenario when they reappear, where we choose either to let them sacrifice themselves in some way, or save them. So perhaps there is an ending where Solas and Lavellan die together and can be free as spirits, which would also be bittersweet.

I don’t really have predictions for anything but Solas, so the big lore reveals might change the situation so much that none of this applies or makes sense anymore. In which case I will probably be HAVING FUN.

I am not EXPECTING any of this to happen, I am just writing it down and posting it in case I’m right. Anyway please wait until I’m done playing to tell me if I’m right or wrong, and this is just for fun, I wouldn’t mind if the whole game was completely different.

[aurekiwi]

pac: a letter from us to you

top- pile 1 & pile 2

bottom- pile 3 & pile 4

𝐛𝐲 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐲𝐝𝐚𝐳𝐞 | follow me | support me any form of feedback would be greatly appreciated.

Pile 1

from pile 1, to pile 1...

dear you, i know how you tend to overthink, how you've been hurt countless times from trusting and giving chances. and i'm very sorry that you had to go through those betrayals, so much that you now doubt not only others, but yourself as well. how lonely it must've been to bear all that pain alone. i know you're scared- scared to go beyond what you know, scared to attempt only to face disappointment once again. i know that feeling of not wanting to give anything a chance anymore, like you don't want to step out of the safety bubble that you've created for yourself. i don't care what others say. i just need you to know that i'm on your side. that's all that matters. protect yourself. prioritize yourself. and love yourself by doing what makes you feel comfortable and sane.

i find it so lovely that you keep your heart close and treat it so tenderly, so preciously, like the way you wanted it to be treated by others. i know how caring you are... how much you care about others, and how much you're willing to sacrifice yourself for others. i know how hard you work to make others happy, how much time you spend into making sure the person you love has a smile on their face. i know that sometimes you put up a front because you don't want anyone to know how hurt and broken you feel inside. but i know. regardless of what they might try to say to you, i want you to know it's truly okay to feel upset and disheartened. it's also okay to choose something that makes you happy even if it might feel like a selfish decision at the moment. trust me, following your heart and listening to your own voice is going to bring you so much joy... honestly, it really pains me to see how much you've prioritized others. keep guarding your heart like that. keep it safe from the eyes of those who just take advantage of that endless kindness and understanding you have. choose to do what sets your heart ablaze- what makes you feel motivated, inspired, and curious. and most of all, always remember that i love you, and i'll always support you.

Pile 2

from pile 2, to pile 2...

dear you, aren't we all just frolicking and going about in directions that we think is the right way in this journey called life? we let our passion speak for us, we let the world inspire us, we try to see the beauty in our day-to-day lives, even if that is awfully hard nowadays. i really like that mind of yours, how you're set out to exploring, traveling, and learning- how your mind is always curious and ready to experience new. i know that whatever you decide to do, you'll take the time and put in the effort to mastery and demonstrate your love and passion for it for others to see. i know that gift you have of channeling your passion, your philosophy, your meaning, and your view of life into everything that you do.

oh, you are so brilliant. you stand tall against everyone who points their fingers at you and calls you names for the kind of person you are. don't mind them at all because they're just jealous of that free-spirited nature that you have. i find your soul beautiful, in the way it burns so brightly and finds ways to burn just as bright through every hardship. and if you want to rest, let yourself rest. i know you have the power and will within you to get right back up when you want to or need to, so please, take your time. no need to rush at all. i know underneath all that brilliance and optimism is a lot of anxiety and worries- such is the artist's spirit, aye?

let those worries run around in your mind as you rest, think of what makes you feel so bothered and then seek out a way to achieve what you have in mind. i truly believe that you have it in you to do whatever you put your mind to. once you reach it, everyone around you will be there to see what you've accomplished and be in awe of your tenacity, creativity, and efforts to get there. speak for yourself who you are and who you are meant to be. you are the innovator, the leader, the channeler, the one who shows that the impossible is the possible, one at a time. you are the example and you are the legacy. you got it, hon.

Pile 3

from pile 3, to pile 3...

dear you, i want to give you a tight hug to tell you it's alright. i value your maturity, and i find it sexy the way you stay optimistic despite every tear you silently wipe away at the darkest hours of night. i find it admirable how you continue to tread on even after every disappointment and heartbreak. you seem to have this beautiful talent of attaining balance within yourself. everytime someone ruins your peace, you manage to find a way to restore it. you also manage to be that guiding figure in others' lives by providing them with the advice that you always secretly wished you could've heard from someone when you were struggling. it's a cruel fate you have of always being the teacher, not the one being taught- of being the leader rather than being the lead.

you know what it is? it's that big heart you have inside. it's the caring nature you have within you, the love you have for those around you even if it's not reciprocated. love overflows from you, and you seem to pour that into someone you love, or those you love, sometimes to your own detriment. you remind me of mother earth and her kindness, her creativity, her essence of the world's beauty that its inhabitants continuously destroy. you remind me of a siren, a beautiful voice and presence so alluring that you draw people in, except, you're human. rather than you hurting them, they hurt you instead. they get infatuated with you, obsessed with you, get so enamored by you that they step all over you and leave you in pieces. you are one who has so much to give, and i'm so very sorry that it gets stomped on each time. you're a wonderful soul and i hope you remember that every minute and every second that you are awake.

Pile 4

from pile 4, to pile 4...

dear you, know to sit down sometimes and take a break from everything that's been going on. think about how you were like in the past, when you were young and immature, curious about everything that went on in the world- how you dreamed about what you might want to do going forward, what new things might bring you happiness. i apologize for asking such a personal question, but did you have a loved one pass recently? if you did, please know that i can relate to your pain and that i want you to take your time mourning and grieving, because honestly, the pain doesn't go away. no amount of healing is going to make that kind of pain go away. so take your time and don't ever let someone make you feel rushed.

man, there were the good old times when things seemed to be a lot better than is now, and they were completely taken for granted. now everyday feels like a repetitive attempt in recovery from past heartbreaks and a heightened apprehension towards the ones to come. the fighting, the arguing, the tension, and also the self-doubt and overthinking is just all too overwhelming. when did this all happen? how did we get to this state? where did it all go wrong? it feels like every new positive possibility or future will only end in a tragedy once again. but please, don't give up just yet. there is still good out there. i promise you, everything that you've worked for... it'll all result in great rewards. it doesn't end at just despair- there will be a day that you feel fulfilled, joyful, and blissful. there will be a day when you experience true happiness with the ones you love. so please, hang on and don't give up on the blessing of happiness and fortune that is making its way towards you now. you got this. i'm right there with you as one who experienced/is experiencing it myself. we all got this. just one day at a time, one step at a time.

[nightdivinity]

Drink Responsibly: Chapter 1

ABO!Vampire!Batfam x reader

Minors! Do! Not! Engage! +18 only!

Platonic!Alfred, Bruce x reader, Possessive! Batboys x reader

Warnings: Bad life choices, possessive behavior, a/b/o, they're vampires, loooong age gaps, no proofreading, reverse harem.

Writer's Note: I am so tired. I exist only because of caffeine and spite. So here you go, Chapter 2 is done as well. It will come out Friday hopefully.

Grey eyes stare into yours as you try your hardest to not squirm under the intensity. How did you get to be where you are? You have no clue. Honestly, there shouldn’t have been a callback. You should not have landed this opportunity for the second interview. The initial screening process should have weened you out in the first place.

From what you had gathered from the chatty chauffeur in the town car, (the town car! They knew you had no car to get to Wayne Manor, let alone to your job. Yet they still sent you someone to go pick you up from your ratty apartment.) This was all ordained by someone much higher than Mr. Pennyworth in front of you. The talk with the chauffeur had almost put you at ease until you looked out the window and saw the heavy iron gate open to Wayne Manor’s winding driveway. There’s no doubt in your mind. You shouldn’t be here. In more ways than one.

It made your bandages itch the more you thought about it. You couldn't scratch them like the feral animal you were deep down inside. At least, not when you're being as heavily scrutinized as you are now.

“I’m not sure you know what you’re getting yourself into my dear.”, the butler says.

“I want this job.”

He sighs then and reaches for the cup of tea sitting on the table next to him. When you got to the Manor, Mr. Pennyworth had met you at the front step. He still ushered you through a side entrance and a winding set of narrow hallways until you reached the sitting room you were now in. Not that you were complaining about being treated like a servant when you were trying to like hell to land the job.

If ever there was an excellent place to kill someone, this was it. You find yourself thinking as you look away from him and study the art on the walls. The manor itself was far removed from society and the small windowless study with the ornate crackling fireplace was oppressive as much as it was impressive. No one would ever hear you scream.

“The issue is not a matter of want. The issue is a matter of need.”, he says.

You watch him take a sip as a bead of sweat collects at the back of your neck. It was getting too hot in here, and the bandage around your wrist was itching.

“I need it. No one wants to hire me”, You reply.

You’re not sure what you expect after you say that. Half of you were expecting him to start grilling you like he did during your interview two days ago. That one had taken place in daylight, in an ostentatious conference room at Wayne Enterprise's.

You were still waiting for him to pick you to the bone and say, “Why is that?”. The other half feels like the admittance makes you guilty. Guilty of going out that night. Guilty of getting caught in a crowd surge while blackout drunk. Guilty of the infected thralls that were unleashed by the Scarecrow goons. Guilty of killing the infected that had started ripping you to pieces. Not that you remember any of it, frustratingly enough. No one, not even the news, gave enough information on that night. Why was I there?

“How are you doing dear?” Pennyworth asks.

You blink. No one has asked that yet. Not by anyone that you feel genuinely wants to know the answer.

“Good. Sore, and I believe honesty is the best policy. I can’t dance like I used to.”, you joke.

It falls flat in the cramped space as you give him a tight grin. His grey eyes dart momentarily to the crutch that was resting next to the chair, and to the cast going slightly above your knee.

“Yes, honesty is such an important quality nowadays. Might I say, it is fortunate that you survived.”

“No one else thinks that. I’m just thankful that Duke was there. I was told he was the one that got me to the hospital. Now he’s gone and got me this interview.”

It’s funny. Time from that night seems disjointed. While you were black-out drunk, you do feel as though you were only in the club for five minutes. The attack happened at 12:45 am. You remember waking up in the hospital and finding your chart on your way to the bathroom. It said you were admitted at 2 am. The next time you managed to grab it, it had said 12:59 am. Not to mention your wounds were healing at a faster rate than most Omegas. Something was picking deep inside your skull.  

 “Luckily this job is not strenuous if you are up to the task.”

You nod at him. You need this.

“Well, there are rather strict rules. Breaking them is a breach of contract that will be handled severely. This isn’t like a regular job out there. Any problems that arise will not result in a simple firing.”, he pauses before continuing, “For example, personal electronic devices are prohibited in the Manor. Your bags will be thoroughly checked by me upon arrival. You will be allowed devices that are monitored by security.”

“I can’t just be cut off from my family”, you protest.

“We don’t want you to. You may make phone calls during your allotted time off. They will happen here, or in Master Bruce’s office with either him or me in the room. Your predecessor was fond of skirting her duties and we have found the need for such restrictions.”

“While excursions are discouraged, they are not prohibited. We will go over those security measures at a later time. You are to be readily available when called upon at any time they require something. While day workers are employed here, at no point are you allowed to interact with them.”

You can’t help the way your brows furrow. This was going to be a long year if you were to take this opportunity. With each rule, you wondered if this was why the position was empty for so long.

“I tend to the bedrooms, and at no point should you enter them unless invited by the occupant. You will be given a room as well, and I would appreciate cleanliness. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner are all served at the same time, tardiness is prohibited.”

“Will I be helping in the kitchen?”, you ask.

“No. Not unless you want to, if you are going to cook, please notify me accordingly.”

“So, wait. I’m confused. Just what is my job here?”

Alfred sighs and for the first time since you’ve met the prim and proper gentleman, he seems a bit haggard. Which did not make you feel good.

“It gets awful lonely here in the manor. As I’m sure you are aware, Alphas live for a long time. Particularly ones infected such as those in Wayne Manor. Now and then it is refreshing to have something that brings more life into such a place. The children have taken an interest in you, and that is enough for Master Bruce.”

“I’m not a toy.”

“No. You’re fortunately not. What you are being offered is room and board, all you have to do is adhere to the rules. In exchange, you have to be a friend. Surely you know how to do that”?

If he had asked your friend, he’d have been met with a resounding no. After that night you had found yourself crippled in the hospital with no friends to speak of. Your friend had been peeved, rightfully so, that you had just packed their wasted butt into a car with a stranger. You had been miffed because hello?? They weren’t the ones chomped on by a deranged rabid Beta. They had made it home in one piece, even getting past the front door and into their bed. Both of you had been wasted, so why act like it was all your fault? You were getting tired of the world treating you like you were the root cause of life’s issues.

“I won’t be doing any of that”, you ask.

Now he just looked downright uncomfortable. You were almost embarrassed, but the question needed to be asked. Being hired to be a friend to Alphas that were at least a century old likely resulted in you waking up in a bed that’s not yours.

“Only if you consent to it. You won’t be reprimanded for not doing it, or if you do find yourself in that position.”, he clears his throat, “Healthcare and dental is provided. Due to your circumstances as an Omega, blockers will be provided along with your daily vitamins. Your health and safety is paramount to us.”

You had nothing more to say. Silently you sat there, running through any alternative options, and yet you kept hitting a wall. There was no denying it, this was the best option you could be given. All you had to do was smile and nod and make it a year. By then you should be able to get your feet back underneath you and be able to reassess your situation. Who knows? You might just like it.

“I’m going to say, you have a deal”, you smile at him.

“Then please, call me Alfred.”

He gets up then and holds a hand out to you to help you out of your chair. His smile back is warm, creases folding up from his eyes, a drastic change from the cold persona that you had started becoming accustomed to.

“Shall I call for the town car Ms. (L/N)?”

This was the start of a beautiful friendship, you decided. You nod your head as he pulls you up and gives you a brisk but friendly pat on the shoulder.

“Duke, you don’t have to do this”, you protest.

It was the thirteen-hundredth time you’ve said it. When Alfred closed the interview, he had taken the time to walk you to the front door, pointing out so many rooms that it all went over your head. You almost made it to the front. Then Duke saw you and took over from there.

“No, no, and for the last time, stop. I want to do it”, Duke grins up at you.

He was on the floor, taping up the last of your boxes. You hate to admit it, but you’re not sorry in the slightest as he does all the heavy lifting. The best part about it was getting to see all the muscles in his back when he turned around. Yum. Hey, you were a red-blooded Omega. There were just some things you couldn’t fight.

“Be careful not to break that”, you warn.

“Right, because what will the world do without these little tchotchkes?”, Duke laughs.

Somehow, not surprisingly, he dodges the stray crutch that you toss half-heartedly in his direction. At this point, he was used to you trying to weaponize your “mobility aide”.

It all started when he helped you get back to your apartment, in a wheelchair that he bought. Then he abandoned said wheelchair and carried you bridal style up several flights of stairs. Citing that the elevator was too dangerous because it hadn’t been inspected in the past decade. Even ignoring you when you told him that it would be far more likely for both of you to fall to your death in the stairwell. This was all two weeks ago, and he still refuses to use the elevator.

He was on the floor now, humming and throwing your shit in boxes. You weren’t sure how he did it. When you agreed to the move, you had been internally wincing and panicking. Thinking it was just going to be you, hopping pitifully around the room. Probably taking breaks and reminiscing over the stray artifacts of your life. You would’ve needed at least three days max to get packed. Duke cut it down to two hours.

“Sooooooooo”, you draw out, “Tell me about the others.”

 “There’s not much to say, not a lot that I can either way. What do you want to know?”

Your eyes narrow as he turns weirdly evasive. He always got a little cagey when you brought up his adoptive family. Never quite answering the question.

“What are they like? Are they nice?”, you ask.

He pauses and stands, turning his back to you so he can put a box on the trolley. We’re going to take the elevator. You thought with a smug sort of glee at the realization. That means you’ll be in your wheelchair. See, you’re slowly reclaiming your independence. Sort of.

“Um. Cass is really nice, but you won’t see her often. Same with Steph. They both kind of do their own thing and no one lives at home besides Alfred, Bruce, and me. Though that might change.”

He pauses again. You stick your tongue out at his back only for him to whirl around to face you. Quickly you snap it back in and try to appear innocent as you stare up. Ew. Popcorn ceiling. You wonder for a second if you could have asbestos in your lungs from that.

“Dick, I mean Grayson, he oversees the training of the Alpha taskforce in Bludhaven. Jason avoids Bruce like the plague while doing the most to get his attention, and I can't really get into what he does for a living. You don't want to know. Tim lives and breathes at Wayne Enterprise’s various global sectors, some of the time, he’s the hardest to track. Damian has been somewhere in Pakistan. Where? I don’t know. I would avoid him and Jason if at all possible. Not that you'll likely see them."

You had to smother your cry of relief. This was going to be a lot easier than you thought. There were only going to be three people that you had to worry about. Maybe you were going to finally complete a New Year’s resolution now that you had time. The world was looking up for you.

“I think that’s it, are you ready?”

His question breaks off your train of thought. You can’t help but groan when he gets near you, arms outstretched, ready for a hug and humiliating you. To make matters worse, he says the worst thing possible.

“Up you go!”, Duke crows.

“No! To the chair! Put me down you overgrown bat!”, you say.

Thankfully he does, gently plopping you down in the cushy seat and stooping to ruffle your hair. You were hissing mad. Not that he cared. Just to goad you further, he reached over to the handles behind your back and rang the obnoxious little bike bell he attached to it.

“Run”, you warn him.

He laughs while sprinting with the dolly all the way to the elevator as you try like hell to mow him down. Both of you completely missed the way his phone kept blowing up with notifications, the small dings being mistaken for a bike bell.

[aealzx]

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Prologue | AO3

Previous Next

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“You came all the way out here to ask me to identify a plant?” Pamela was understandably incredulous as she blocked Tim from entering her current residence.

“Weeelll,” Tim drawled, shrugging with one shoulder. “Spoiler and Orphan said you’d be the best to contact. We could go elsewhere, but then I’d have to find somewhere else for these bacon and egg sandwiches,” he explained, revealing the hand that was behind his back to be holding a paper bag for a local food joint. It was a bribe. Or payment for services rendered if one wanted to be posh about it. But he was fine calling it a bribe.

“Aw hell yeah!” Harleen’s voice came from further in the establishment, and Tim caught just the faintest hint of a smile twitching Pamela’s mouth. She tried to resist, but Tim held his ground with a decidedly innocent smile, the bag of egg sandwiches still held in offering.

Eventually Pamela sighed and held out her hand. “Fine. What identifiers do you have for it?” she relented, letting Tim set the bag of food on her palm.

“Not much honestly. The locals call it a blood blossom, but I doubt it’s a haemanthus coccineus. We don’t have a picture, but we’re told it looks like a red rose bud with black leaves,” Tim answered. He’d done his own research already while waiting for the food to be made, and that was part of the reason he didn’t feel bad for following through with the others’ idea to ask Pamela. He had a few guesses already, but it would be nice to get a second opinion.

“A rose with black leaves?” Pamela repeated, her disappointed expression becoming thoughtful. “That’s it? Nothing else?” she asked soon after, frowning deeper if possible.

“Nothing else,” Tim confirmed, both disappointed and pleased that Pamela also didn’t seem able to come up with an answer.

“Sounds made up,” Pamela answered bluntly, shifting to move back into the building. “There aren’t any roses with black leaves unless they’re mutilated. The closest you’ll get is a begonia switzerland if you’re just going by appearance.”

“Oh…. that’s what I thought too,” Tim hummed, raising a curled finger to his chin.

Pamela’s eye twitched. “Then why did you-.... Goodbye,” she stammered, then figured it wasn’t worth her time to deal with Tim further, and closed the door on him.

Tim could only snort in amusement, raising his voice for just a moment. “Thanks for the info! Enjoy the food!” he called, grinning as he turned to grapple himself back to the rooftops.

So the blood blossoms were either an extremely obscure name for some other plant, or they didn’t actually exist. And if they didn’t exist, then what had poisoned Danny? At least Dick and Damian were heading straight to the manor to follow up with Alfred about meals, and bring the tissue sample with the plant based poison to where Bruce could use their tech to better analyze it. And Barbara had already mentioned she’d meet them there, so while they might not have a good start on two of the three questions they should at least be able to figure out who these kids were exactly.

—----------

“They don’t exist,” Barbara’s conclusion about the five Phantom kids they had custody of was short, but did little to answer any questions the others had. After spending a few hours gathering her data she had decided to join the others at the manor, the three who had returned from the rescue mission, Bruce, and her now gathered in the Bat Cave by the computer. Admittedly that hadn’t been something they fully expected to hear, so there were sagging shoulders from both Dick and Tim at the announcement.

“You ran the search in all of the databases, yeah?” Tim asked, immediately trying to figure out what they had missed. Barbara was usually extremely thorough. It was hard to believe she came up with nothing on a group of five people. Especially when two of them had superhuman abilities.

“Yes, Tim,” Barbara responded quickly. “If you’ll let me continue before you try to solve the problem yourself I’ll save you some steps,” she added, getting a mildly teasing smile. When Tim relented with a mild shrug Barbara turned her chair back to the computer, pulling her reports up on the huge monitor.

“The DNA samples came up with no results. Amity Park doesn’t exist on any map. There’s no social media posts about any combination of their names. And the photo Jason sent of Jazz’s ID also has no results. It doesn’t even resemble the official driver’s license format of Illinois or any of the other states, so it’s not hard to see why the bank teller would call it a fake,” she listed, bringing up the reports from her data scouring as she mentioned them. “The only activity I can track from them is here in Gotham, starting 72 days ago. I believe that’s when they first arrived here.”

The date caused Bruce to shift, breaking out of his silence once it seemed Barbara had finished summarizing her findings and drawing a connection to a separate report he’d gotten more than a month ago. “72 days ago is when the Justice League got readings of an anomaly on the outskirts of Gotham. Investigations revealed some remains of unknown technology, but no one was there with it.”

“...What kind of anomaly?” Dick asked, tensing slightly at a thought that crossed his mind. Unknown DNA, unusable bank and ID cards, two of them claiming to be beings that were never heard of before now.

“Please don’t say multiverse breach,” Tim whined, revealing that he’d had the same thoughts as Dick.

Instead of answering them Bruce just opened a different report, having been locating it as his sons had been speaking. When the data appeared on screen both Dick and Tim let out extended groans, their forms sagging even more as Barbara chuckled softly.

“It had to be dimension garbage,” Tim whined more, squinting at the report confirming suspected multiverse breach residue in the affected area.

“That explains all the missing data,” Barbara commented, just glad to have an explanation for why all her research was coming up blank prior to the anomaly. It was because they literally had nothing on this earth before then, and not because they were some sort of geniuses that could manage such an extensive data wipe to make even her systems come up with blanks.

“That also explains why Dr. Isley was unfamiliar with the blood blossoms,” Damian added, seeming unfazed by the revelation.

“And literally everything else that was weird about them,” Tim encompassed, frustration bleeding into his tone. What kind of puzzle didn’t even have answers in this world? He felt like that was cheating.

“Do they seem aware that they are no longer in their dimension? We’re sure this wasn’t a deliberate transport?” Bruce asked, masking his growing concern for the dislocated children by suggesting they might still be hiding something.

“Please, these kids can’t hide anything that well,” Tim huffed, giving a wry smile. “The only reason they’re able to hide anything is because they’re also oblivious. Otherwise it’s way too easy to tell they’re keeping something a secret.”

Bruce only frowned more at the response, and Barbara couldn’t help add her own support of the idea that the Phantoms had no idea they weren’t even close to home. “They seemed to have had enough to deal with, I don’t think they had time to consider it. Almost 80% of their activity ties back to them looking for ectoplasm. The other 20% is just general medical care and necessities of living.”

“Ectoplasm is the stuff they said Danny needed,” Dick added unnecessarily.

“I remember,” Bruce responded, though he could also understand why the kids had such a hard time tracking down a source. Most of Gotham didn’t even believe in ghosts, and the only people he or his family knew that matched the category were Boston and Greta. “Their search led them to a Lazarus water exchange.”

“Yeah. But apparently even though it’s similar enough, the Lazarus water is ‘freaky’ and they don’t want to use it according to Danielle,” Dick confirmed, using air quotes for what the small girl had said.

“All five of them have traces of another substance I’ve never seen before that seems similar to residue from Lazarus water as well,” Barbara spoke up to add, reaching over to the computer once more as she once again had their attention. The DNA analysis reports were enlarged, and she used a screen sketch app to mark the unusual traces. “It’s most prominent in Danielle and Danny, though Danny’s levels read a lot lower. But the other three have small traces as well.”

“The one called Danielle made mention of Danny having expended a significant amount of energy, to the point his accelerated healing ability has been hindered. And that there was a lack of locations with an abundance of said energy for them to absorb,” Damian recalled, ignoring the face Tim pulled as he slowly turned to look at him.

“You made that sound way more complicated than she did,” Tim grimaced.

“Silence Drake,” Damian retorted simply.

Dick could only snicker while keeping his gaze on the reports like Bruce was doing. “This will make it easier to track some of the substance down. I’ll see if I can create a collection device to make it easier for us to get larger amounts, and work on a way to neutralize the residual plant material,” Bruce commented, already making plans for the next course of action.

“After dinner,” Dick enforced, resting his hands on the back of Bruce’s chair.

Bruce seemed to consider it, falling silent and keeping his gaze on the monitor, giving no answer other than a short grunt after a long stretch of quiet.

Dick only leaned on the chair more, pulling it back slightly. “Aaaaafter dinner, Bruce. Thirty minutes isn’t going to be that big of a loss,” he prodded.

“...Alfred put you up to this, didn’t he,” Bruce pointed out instead of responding to the request.

“He did,” Dick confirmed, admitting to being requested to make sure Bruce got at least one hearty meal before getting lost in his work once again.

Bruce considered it longer, and by then the rest of his children were already on their way back upstairs. Did he really want Alfred hassling him again? “... Very well. After dinner,” he relented, getting to his feet with a slight sigh and locking the computer screen.

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Dimension hopping confirmed~ And I just realized I now have 2 fanfics that involve dimension hopping X'D that was unintentional.

Questions for the people following/interested: because I'm not familiar with most of DC or really DP's canon and fanon content and there's so freaking much of it out there, which characters would you like to see involved? No guarantees that they'll be in if I can't figure out how to get them to fit, but I need somewhere to start researching stuff X'DD. Also there's essentially 2 goals, wake Danny up, and get Team Phantom back home. How difficult should these tasks be, and which one would people rather have more focus on?

This fic originated from a prompt I found, so I think it might be fun to kind of keep that going? A different kind of writing exercise than what I'm used to. So that's why the questions instead of me just going heheh have a cliffhanger.

Though I will say I'm still of the opinion of no romance, so please don't suggest pairings |D

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Tag list: @galaxy-sharks-and-bottled-ships, @starscreamlover, @nerdynonnativenarnian, @dragongoblet, @zeestarfishalien, @bellathecatastrophe, @cj-ghostemoji-destielpie, @asexual-insomniac, @wolfeyedwitch, @tkiesai, @fanaroff, @raven1508, @nebulainajar, @serasvictoria02, @oliocelottafanfics, @honeysuckletook, @omniithe-deer, @wolf-under-the-stars, @gingernutcalo, @that-random-fangirl

[lucysarah-c]

Question: for Virgin! Canon Levi; how do you think that would go down? Like full blown sex one night? Taking it slow over time? Just how do you think reader would need to navigate it with him? Slow burn / build up, a passionate night, tipsy reader?

This is assuming Levi and Reader’s emotions are confirmed for each other

Hiiiii~~ How are you? What have you been up to lately?

Haha, honestly, I'm not entirely sure what caused this full blow-up of questions, but I'm kinda loving it.

Mhh, I think my answer depends a lot on two factors: "Levi's age" and "the experience of the reader." I know you said Canon Levi, but I wonder if you mean canon season 1-4 Levi, Underground Levi, pre-promotion Levi, etc. haha

I'll conclude that you meant "canon season 1-3" Levi. While I personally don't headcanon Captain Levi as a virgin during the "overall" period of AoT (I mean, since season 1, not ACWNR or Underground Levi), I think his reaction depends a lot on how much experience the reader has. Levi strikes me as one of those friends/partners who loves you, cares about you, etc., but hardly ever talks about themselves. In my humble opinion, even if Levi has feelings for you and you two decide to pursue a relationship together, it may take him a lot of time to open up about his past. I mean, this man gets along with Hange amazingly in the story; Isayama says that Hange is who "understands" or "gets along better with Levi," and yet Hange didn't know about Kenny.

So this may be a wild take… but I think Levi wouldn't tell you it's his first time, lmao. He may try to play it cool; you might notice he's not the most "skilled" dude out there ('cause let me tell you, no amount of Ackerman powers makes you seem experienced, lol), but he's not telling you it's his first time. Which, you know, everybody is entitled to their past. Perhaps if the reader is also a virgin and she opens up emotionally like, "It's my first time," Levi would feel she's opening up to him, and he would feel it's a good time to be honest too and be like, "Well… it's mine too, so I guess we will figure it out as we go."

About "how" it would be, I think the reader would have to set the tempo. Most men are READY to blow off some steam if you give them a chance, haha, so if the reader is also a virgin and they kinda want to test the waters before going all the way, Levi would be down for it, especially because it will give him time to catch a trick or two, learn what she likes.

I think that porn or movies make us believe how "sex" usually happens, and I mean, talking from my experience and my friends' experiences… none of us went from 0 to 10. Like, we kiss, we make out, then maybe we got a little handy, then riding on top of clothes, oral sex, fingers, etc. Especially because maybe you don't have your own place to crash at, maybe you two would like to talk it out before it happens. Buy condoms, get ready, etc.

Now, if you are curious how I think Underground Levi would decide to lose his V-card while younger… probably rather quick, steamy, and not giving it much thought, haha. He'd let the hormones talk and make decisions for him. In both occasions, I don't think he made the girl cum before him, which is something that happens a lot; we women are harder to please, it requires more technique than men who… well, let's say that they come rather easily, lol. BUT he will 100% offer to make her cum anyway, with fingers or mouth. Levi will be such a fast learner, give him a chance or two, and he will pick it up like a champ.

Though why can't I shake the idea of a younger Levi in the underground in his 18s, having something with a girl slightly older than him, perhaps 20, etc. And her saying between chuckles, "Slow down, boy."

God, I would pay to see his blushed, embarrassed face.

Link to my masterlist and my other works if you feel like checking them out. Tags!: @nube55 @justkon @notgoodforlife @nmlkys @humanitys-strongest-bamf @quillinhand @thoreeo @darkstarlight82 @angelofthor @aomi04 @levisbrat25 @l3visthighs @hum4n-wr3ckag3 @hannieslovebot @starrylevi @rithty @mariaace @ackrmntea @emilyyyy-08 @levisfavoriteteashop @katestrophes @levistealeaf @an-ever-angry-bi @youre-ackermine @fxnnyackerman @secretmoneybearvoid @trashblackrainbow @flxrartsstuff @katharinasdiaryy @levisecretgfblog @searriously @blackdxggr @ackermanswifee @abiatackerman @braunsbabe @moonchild-12345 @levicansteponme @galactict3a Wanna join my tag list? Here!