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phantomskeep · 2 years ago

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Putting the “Fun” Back in “Funeral”: Chapter Two

AO3 Link | Chapter One --- Chapter Three

Chapter Two: A King, a Clock, a Bird, and a Bat All Walk Into a Bar…

Well after the last echoes of the haunting song had faded from the Zone, Danny could be found in his newly acquired throne room with Clockwork - who was radiating so much pride it almost physically hurt. The older ghost was turned towards Danny, gently bobbing up and down in front of the large chair he insisted Danny sat on. Between finishing the coronation and now, hours had long since passed. This time was spent dancing amongst his people, accepting handshakes left and right, brushing his aura of happiness-I love you all-you are under my protection against the many ghosts around him. While Danny’s inner introvert was cringing at the social interaction, the man could not say he would have traded it for anything in the world. It was downright magical to be surrounded by such pure, unfiltered joy for hours on end. Danny was sure he could have spent the rest of his half-life happily mingling with the many spooks who resided in the Ghost Zone. However, when Pandora’s strong hand rested against his bicep and her soothing voice whispered that Clockwork was waiting for him inside the Keep, Danny reluctantly had to leave.

While the ghost may have been the Master of Time, the young king had learned over the past few years that it did not make him the Master of Patience.

So Danny had hurriedly entered his ugly new haunt and found himself ushered to sit on the throne that was now his. Much like the rest of the castle, Danny considered the throne to be quite an eyesore. It wasn’t gaudy enough to be made of bones, or skulls, or whatever typical “Throne of the Dead King” Danny was expecting it to be. Rather, the dark wooden chair was adorned with an ectoplasm green cushion. Carvings of the royal artifacts were ingrained in the backing of the wooden throne, and the armrests were plain squares. It wasn’t something that was overly horrible to look at, but it simply didn’t suit Danny’s tastes.

While Danny was pondering the new furniture of his humble abode, Clockwork floated in front of the young king. The time-themed ghost cleared his throat to get the other’s attention.

“King Phantom,” he started, ignoring Danny’s protesting noises. “I wanted to officially welcome you into the era of Phantom’s Reign.”

A small smile graced Danny’s lips as he bowed his head to acknowledge his mentor. “Thank you, Clockwork. I know I can count on you to help my era to be one of peace and prosperity.” The young man leaned back on his throne, wanting to splay out like a lazy cat. “Is there something you wanted to talk about? I was actually enjoying socializing, for once.”

Danny’s mentor let out a small chuckle, his forms changing as he spoke. “But of course, my King. I merely wanted to inquire what you would do next?”

“... What do you mean, Clockwork?” Danny’s hesitantly confused voice echoed eerily across the grand room, as he cautiously rose from his slouch.

“Are you finally going to tell your friends and family?”

The King of the Infinite Realms snapped to attention, eyes boring holes into his mentor. Muscles were tensed, faux-breathing completely stilled, as Danny forced out his response. “Tell them what, exactly.”

“That you are not only the King of the Realms, but also a member of it.” Clockwork’s voice took on more of his lecturing-tone as he spoke. “Danny, you have been dead for seven years. Is it not time your parents knew?”

The young man rose from his seat, starting to pace the large room. His star-laden cloak hissed against the dark cobblestone as Danny’s frustrated body warred between ‘fight’ and ‘flight’. It was when he stalled beneath a worn tapestry depicting a battle between Pariah Dark and an unknown ghost that Danny spoke.

“It’s not their burden to know,” he said, trying to will wisdom into his still-young voice. “My parents, if they didn’t try to rip me apart ‘molecule by molecule’, they would be destroyed if they realized their greatest achievement killed their greatest failure.” Danny’s hands shook as he spoke and he tried to steady them by gripping the sill of one of the many windows along the grand hall he was in. The young man cast his eyes upwards, distantly taking in the faux-stars made of stained glass, before resting his heavy gaze on the thousands of souls still celebrating his crowning.

“Everyone else,” he sighed, voice barely a whisper, “they all have their own lives. My friends don’t need my fucked-up half-life ruining theirs.”

Clockwork’s aura of disapproval grew closer to Danny, but he didn’t dare look at his mentor. He’s heard this oncoming lecture so many times the young king was sure he would be able to quote it. Nonetheless, when Clockwork opened an arm out to his apprentice, Danny gratefully leaned into the older ghost’s embrace.

“You know what I am going to tell you,” Clockwork murmured. “So I won’t. But I can tell you, my King, that the option to not explain to your inner circle is a good one. For the timeline, for you, for your reign.”

Danny just about cried when he felt Clockwork’s hand brushing gently against his hair. It had been so long since he last felt safe in his own father’s embrace - his old memories and fears were simply too much for him to ever be comfortable again. It’s why Danny rejected the idea of him telling his parents of his other half so harshly. Even the thought of the people who raised him (even if it really was more Jazz than them) refusing to have a relationship with Danny hurt. Danny loved his family and friends more than anything else. He loved them so much that he was willing to rip himself apart in order to not drown in the pain-sorrow-grief that haunted his every waking moment. The thought of Danny losing them again? Even if it was through them rejecting all of him?

The young king wasn’t sure anything could survive that level of grief.

“What should I do, then?” Danny asked weakly, wanting to bury himself in his pseudo-father’s embrace and hide himself from the world.

An echoing sigh hummed against Danny. A familiar aura of you are loved-nothing will hurt you-I will guide you soothed the trembling anxiety-grief-not again pouring off of Danny’s shaken form. “There are two options that would be best,” Clockwork began. “The first is you travel back to your home dimension and explain everything to the humans you hold so dearly. Or,” the old ghost continued before Danny could voice his protests. “There is another dimension that has been feeding off of the Realms. Artifacts of our powers have fallen through, the dead have risen, and there have been reported leaks of ectoplasm bleeding into their reality. I was going to suggest you send another ghost to clean up these issues, but I also believe you can benefit from a… sabbatical, of sorts, into this dimension.”

This information whirled around Danny’s head. The years of kingly training helped the king to mentally organize everything and sort through it all. It was not a fast process, by any means, but Danny had gotten quicker at picking up the important bits over the years. However, one thing stood out to him the most.

“What about Amity Park and my friends? My family?”

The older ghost squeezed Danny firmly against his side when the halfa tried to pull away from his mentor. “Amity Park will be the same when you return, though maybe a week or two later in the timeline. But if you decide to take up the hunting of artifacts I can alter when you go back into your original dimension with ease.”

“That won’t hurt the timeline?” Danny asked, incredulous. “The Observants were on my ass the last time you altered everything for me!”

Clockwork’s laugh startled Danny enough that he fazed out of the blue ghost’s hug. The young man stared at the now-child in front of him, mouth gaping.

While Clockwork was easily something of a father-figure to Danny, the halfa also had been trying to get the ghost to laugh as much as possible for the past five years. From his best puns, to funny situations, and even on one memorable occasion, a drunken rant about the benefits to petting ducks in the park, Danny had only gotten a fond chuckle out of the Master of Time.

A sarcastic reference to the Observants trying to murder Danny should not have made Clockwork laugh.

Danny eyed the other with obvious suspicion. “What’s funny about that?”

The older’s form aged up as his chuckles died down. “You simply reminded me of when the Observants came to me about this very issue.” Clockwork loosened the grip on his staff and used it to lazily gesture towards Danny’s throne. “They came to me months ago, warning me of how our timeline was going down the most horrible path. Danny Phantom, a half-dead ghost child with too much power taking the throne? It was something out of a nightmare for them.”

When Danny’s eyes flitted nervously downwards, his body unconsciously curling in a defensive motion, Clockwork used his staff to gently lift his king’s head. Pupilless red eyes met burning green, and a comforting expression graced the middle-aged ghost’s face. “My King, they were very wrong. This is the best possible timeline - one with such a powerful king who wishes only for peace? Whose Obsession isn’t one of power, or rage, or a burning greed, but of protection? Danny, this is the best timeline, the best era - and it is because of you. The Observants are correct with many of their findings, but they can make mistakes like any other being. Their power resides in control.” Here Clockwork paused, a mirthful feeling brushing against Danny’s calming one. “This is something I know you are very aware of. They fear the lack of control they will have during this timeline. It was their goal to gain control of the throne through you, but I’ve made sure the Observants failed every time.”

Danny’s eyes widened, a small gasp escaping his lips. Tears welled in his expressive eyes as he tackled his mentor into a monkey-gripped hug. The older ghost chuckled, easily returning the embrace. His form shifted, aging quickly as he ran time-wrinkled hands along the young king’s back.

“I had suggested a boarding school, of sorts.” Clockwork whispered into his apprentice’s hair. “A chance for you to go and stretch your proverbial wings. This other dimension has an old friend of mine who has offered to continue with your teachings, and the Earth there has many different protectors you can learn from. Of course, there are still duties you will need to attend to.” The old ghost broke from Danny’s clinging hug, looking the twenty-one year old king in his eyes. “It will be dangerous. There are many different forces who now have their eyes on you, my King. But know that if you choose to go this route, you will always be able to access the Infinite Realms and the dimensions attached to her.”

Danny discreetly wiped his eyes, nodding in agreement with Clockwork. A burning determination danced in his eyes as Danny’s gaze steadfastly stared into his most trusted advisor’s. “I need to explain things to my family, at least a little bit. Tell them I’m going on a mission for you at the very least - but I’ll be back. I’ll go to this other dimension and do what I can to be a better king for my people.”

The Master of Time nodded his head, his reaching aura’s booming with pride. “My dear child, just saying that makes you a much better ruler than those before you.”

ρ(￣ﾍ￣ﾒ)

Clockwork watched as Danny Phantom flew off into the great green abyss of the Infinite Realms. The old ghost was left alone in the Ghost King’s Keep, watching as Pariah Dark’s influence on the castle slowly faded. Dark reds bled into cooler tones, the brickwork shifting from harsh lines to smoother, more comforting cuts. Time passed as the Master of Time watched. The sounds of celebration had yet to slow down after the many hours ticked away. Clockwork knew that if Danny’s coronation was anything like Pariah Dark’s, the denizens of the Realms would party for weeks on end.

However, instead of joining in the festivities like the others on the Council of Ancients, the time ghost had another important meeting to attend. Clockwork allowed the quick passage of time to overcome his form, aging him down like an ancient phoenix recently reborn from its own ashes. His young body turned to face the newest ghost king’s throne as a maelstrom of blue energy rapidly criss-crossed around his form. Wild winds whipped Clockwork’s pale purple cloak as a dark clock’s hand appeared behind him, sweeping in a large clockwise motion to reveal a swirling blue and teal portal. The sound of an old grandfather clock being struck echoed hauntingly across the empty room of Phantom’s Keep as the hands reached the metaphorical twelfth numeral. When the clock-hands began their descent backwards in time, the Master of Time was swept under them, disappearing into the portal of his own creation. The hands again struck the midnight position with the last thrum of a dull, heavy, monotonous clang - once again leaving the now-empty room with the wistful cry of an old clock.

On a different world - one full of heroes, aliens, and otherworldly forces fighting vicious battles for justice -, a smog-filled city held within the dark heart of an old ghost was just starting to awaken. When Clockwork’s portal faded from view, time snapped back into place. Loud honking filled his ears as the Master of Time floated above a striking clock tower, his back turned to the ever-moving bay that lapped at the shores of such an inspiring city. A low voice caught Clockwork’s attention, but he did not turn to face the ghost.

“Perfect timing as always, Clockwork.” The voice was lofty, easily gliding over syllables with an ease born of hundreds of years.

The purple-cloaked ghost tilted his head in a small greeting, his words spilling past smiling lips. “As always, Lady Gotham, it is my pleasure to be welcomed into your haunt.”

Lady Gotham’s sentient spirit was a dark amalgamation of vapors pouring off a vaguely-tangible, constantly shifting body made of pure black. The spirit’s form twisted herself to be seen on the edges of Clockwork’s vision. The Master of Time allowed himself to miss the olden days for a brief moment, back when Gotham’s form was more solid. Those days were long gone, however, and Clockwork moved himself past the thoughts of an old mind.

“My friend, you know you are always welcomed into my city,” Gotham spoke, though no mouth formed. Her eyes, red and pupiless like his own, stretched across where her face currently was. “It is not like I am able to visit your own lair, after all.”

Clockwork’s head shifted to the side, and he thought carefully before he spoke. “With King Phantom officially on the throne, Pariah Dark’s banishments are no longer being upheld. You are more than welcome into the Realms, my Lady.”

A low snarl echoed across the clock tower the two ecto-entities graced. In the sun’s first rays of light Clockwork was subjected to see his old friend’s form writhe in her fury.

“Never,” she growled, “not until all of his influence is gone.”

Clockwork nodded in agreement. “I will let you know when that is.” He promised, pausing again. “The coronation was a sight to see,” the old ghost broached the topic carefully. “I had not seen the people so happy since…”

Clockwork let his voice trail off, now looking at Gotham’s form.

“… I felt it,” she spoke. “And so did one of my own.” Her eyes cast over the brightening city, to the northeast where even now Clockwork could barely feel the smallest of souls touched by the Infinite Realms resting. “It was wonderful.”

“That it was.”

The city spirit floated contently for a brief period before breaking the comfortable silence between the two old ghosts. “I take it our young king has agreed to your offer?”

The Master of Time smiled at the thought of his young ward. “But of course. He does seem to love procrastinating on some of the oddest things.”

Gotham’s laugh echoed across the pink-blue skies rolling over the normally gray city. “Well, knowing the last royal I spent my time around, it may just be a trait of the Realms’ Rulers.” She paused, taking a moment to let grief wash her beautiful city in a brief moment of hiding the rising sun behind a low-hanging cloud. “But that is all the more reason to send him my way.”

“Of course,” Clockwork agreed. “Hopefully young Danny can learn many new skills while he stays in your care, my friend. I worry about his ties to his human half… He did not even tell his living friends and family about the coronation.”

Lady Gotham shook her form, wisps of rolling fog and thunder floating off her form. “That simply will not do. He will learn well, under my teachings. This dimension is not an easy one to survive in - but I promise you, Master of Time, that he will thrive here.”

The older ghost smiled at his friend, speaking with a confidence only the seeing-eye of the Ghost Realm could muster. “I know he will.” He cast his red gaze out over the city Gotham had come to call home. “It had changed since I was last here,” he murmured. Clockwork could recall when he first entered this dimension - though by the time he arrived, decades had already passed for his friend. Gotham had been a small city then, easily growing under the influence of the town’s ghostly namesake. Since then, it seemed to have bloomed under Lady Gotham’s steady care, turning into a gothic city worthy of its name and its protector.

“That it has.” Gotham easily agreed, red eyes blinking. She slowly turned to face Clockwork, speaking in a careful tone. “Our newest king…” She began, hesitant. “Is he anything like her?”

Clockwork nodded, a sad look upon his ancient face. “In the best ways, my Lady.” He placed a comforting arm on her ever-changing form. “Will you be okay with this?”

A dark, foggy head nodded. “But of course.” A sheepish feeling brushed the edges of Clockwork’s consciousness. “I have had my people preparing for his stay, after all. I am very eager to meet the Realm’s Chosen - even more so after such a wonderful coronation.”

“Ah, yes,” Clockwork began, eyes drifting to where he could feel the smallest spark of a young ghost residing just within reach of Gotham’s grasp. “Is your ward doing well, after such a shock?”

Gotham’s tingling laugh echoed across the various buildings. Her laugh sounded like a train’s track nearing its final destination after a long journey. Relief, excitement, and a vague sense of world-weary exhaustion all rolled into an amalgamation of who she had chosen to become after so many decades away from the Realms. “My little knight is just fine,” she eased away from her laughter, a particular fondness overtaking her being. “He has dealt with so much more than a night of unexpected peace. I dare say it will be good for him.”

An ancient feeling of relief brushed against Gotham’s abashed form.

“I am glad to hear that.” Clockwork met Gotham’s eyes with a cunning smile. “The timestream has many plans for your knight, my Lady. He and our King will become quite the force to be reckoned with.”

“I have a feeling,” Gotham started, protectiveness riling her up. “That they will have a need to become such a power, what with everything you’ve been hinting at for nearly half a decade.”

Reassurance collided against Gotham like a tidal wave, making her form waver for just a split second. A particularly bad car accident occurred on the west side of the island in retaliation amidst Gotham’s wavering focus.

She turned with a snarl, looking to physically tell Clockwork off for his little games. “Do not do that again, Clockwork.” Gotham threatened, body becoming spiked in her anger much like a startled cat. “I am not as strong as I once was. It would do you well to remember that.”

“My apologies, Lady Gotham,” Clockwork started. He brushed the smallest hint of please forgive me-I am sorry against her bristling fury. “I forgot. It will not happen again.”

“It would do you well not to.”

Clockwork paused, glancing at one of the many clocks adorning his forearms. “I merely meant to let you know nothing unsavory will happen to your knight, nor the Crowned Head. Nothing that is not meant to be.” He looked at Lady Gotham’s glowering form. “I must be getting back to the Realms. Our king is almost ready to begin his time here, and I must guide him for a little bit longer before he comes into your capable care.”

Gotham snorted, an amused noise that helped to ease the tension between the two ancient powers. “But of course. Go, Master of Time. See to it that I am able to meet my new ward soon.”

“As you wish, my Lady.” Clockwork said, bending the upper half of his body in a motion of respect towards the younger ghost. With a dramatic wash of teal, Gotham was left alone.

It was there, on the roof of part of her knight’s many lairs that were scattered throughout her city, that Gotham let herself feel hope. For the first time since she had been banished from the Infinite Realms, Lady Gotham would finally be able to fulfill her final promise to her beloved Queen.

＼（Ｔ∇Ｔ）／

Jason’s day was no longer going pretty okay. His head throbbed between the foreign feelings spreading throughout his broad chest, only to be soothed by the cool air circulating around the teal-eyed man. His hands gripped soft sheets, breathing deliberately even. The echoing noises around Jason helped his groggy mind understand that he was not alone in the room. Slowly, he lifted his heavy eyelids and cast his gaze throughout the medical room he found himself in. It was when Jason’s eyes landed on the hunched over form of one Dick Grayson - still in his Nightwing uniform, barring his domino mask - that the undead young man relaxed.

From where Jason laid, he could see that Dick was not fully asleep. Dick’s breathing was nowhere near shallow enough for the older man to be off in dreamland. However, Jason heavily suspected his brother was dozing and would wake with the most uncomfortable crick in his neck.

It was then that Jason took stock of his memories, and himself, a bit more thoroughly. A fuzzy feeling lingered on the edges of his vision, and Jason was sure that if he tried to move any of his limbs their response would be slow. His memories were overridden by this same inconvenience - meaning that until anything was confirmed by his overly-paranoid family, Jason needed to assume he was drugged. Judging by Dick’s dirtied uniform, Jason could then conclude he was drugged while on a mission of some sort.

But the self-proclaimed zombie, for the life of him, could not remember anything past reading the the thirteenth canto of Dante’s Inferno. Jason could vaguely recall being pulled from Dante and Virgil’s grand adventure for something that was important - at least for the standards of the various bats and birds encroaching his precious time.

However, Jason’s thought process is interrupted by an undignified snort coming from the corner where Dick had previously been slumped over. The younger of the two raised an eyebrow in a practiced motion, eyeing the unmasked Nightwing as he startled himself awake. But, despite his less-than-graceful awakening, Dick Grayson was still a Bat. There were no flailing limbs, or graceless falling out of comfortable chairs. Instead, Dick’s head simply snapped up and his eyes immediately locked with Jason’s own.

“You’re awake!” The original Robin exclaimed, hurriedly standing and moving towards Jason’s bedside. “How are you feeling, Jay?”

Jason’s only response was to slowly hike his eyebrow higher. To himself, he would admit that he was a bit scared of what embarrassing confessions would slip past his drug-induced loose lips. Out loud, however, he would forever deny any such claims.

Dick paused, taking in his wayward brother’s appearance and sassy eyebrow. “Yeah, okay, that’s fair.” Bracing one of his muscular hips on Jason’s bed, the older man leaned down into the crime lord’s space. “You doing okay, though?”

Thinking heavily about his words, Jason carefully replied. “Everthin’ feels weir’.” The man grimaced at himself, working his jaw against the sudden stiffness he felt from speaking. “Th’ fuck happene’?”

A worried frown graced Dick’s usually smiling face, arms moving to cross at his chest. Jason’s brain struggled to try and read the body language presented to him, but it was a difficult task when his two working braincells decided to give their undivided attention to his slurring speech.

“We’re not too sure, Little Wing,” frustration painted Dick’s voice. “We were doing that drug bust when you suddenly went down. It was like you were drunk, out of the blue.”

“Did’ja check m’ cam footage?”

“That’s just it!” Dick exclaimed, uncrossing his arms to gesture with his hands. “There was nothing!”

Before Jason could continue to clumsily question Dick, the thick wooden door to the medical room opened. Tim’s head popped into Jason’s view, a determined frown on his face.

“Jason’s awake?” He asked, his sharp gaze met Jason’s own hazy one, responding to himself before the other occupants of the room could reply. “Okay, great. Blood panel was just finished, I’m gonna go grab the others to update them.”

And just like that, Tim’s form disappeared from view. An exasperated silence filled the air between Jason and Dick, both men locking eyes with similar looks on their faces.

“He’s on his third day without sleep,” Dick said as explanation.

Jason rolled his eyes, a small smirk overtaking his expression. “I couldn’ tell.” Sitting up was a Herculean task, but one Jason accomplished before Dick could stop him. Jason’s legs were very much deadweight, so he didn’t even attempt to try and stand. However, while Jason had gotten much more comfortable being around his family without blowing up on them (sometimes literally), the thought of lying flat on his back while they crowded him made his skin crawl. Unlike previous encounters with such a situation, though, Jason noticed a distinct lack of hazy green rage clouding his mind. Instead, all he could feel was an unearthly touch of content sitting heavily on his broad chest. Despite that, his head still felt heavier than it should, causing his vision to sway dangerously as Jason steadied himself.

Dick, the absolute mother hen, squawked in protest when his little brother started shifting himself around the bed. He anxiously hovered his hands around Jason, not getting close enough to spook his trigger-happy sibling, but still within the vicinity to help.

“You do know there’s a button to push the bed up, Jay.” Dick says in a strangled voice.

“An’ I have abs tha’ do the same exac’ th’ng.” Jason huffed, working said muscles to try and stay upright without leaning on anything. His attempts were proven futile, however, when Dick simply pressed one of the buttons on Bruce’s unnecessarily high-tech beds. “Fuckin’ fancy-ass rich bastar’s.”

A strangled chuckle left Dick as he heavily sat down near Jason’s feet, black and blue fingers lightly putting pressure around his ankle. “Amen to that.”

Jason couldn’t help but grin at his brother, still out of it enough to not be fully in control of his movements. It was like he kept swaying in and out of command of his own body. While he was actively using one brain cell to internally rage at the coddling Jason was currently receiving, his body just kept on floating up into the clouds without his say. To say the black-haired man did not like the state he was in would be an understatement.

This is why he avoided pain medicine, damn it.

Neither of the older men were able to continue their conversation, as they were interrupted with Tim opening the door again. However, this time he fully walked into the room. Behind him, a small army of Birds and Bats hovered, but only the big Bat himself followed his middle son into the room.

Bruce, for all Jason was still on unstable ground with the man, was visibly stressed and tired. Dark bags rested under his sharp blue eyes, contrasting the man’s slowly forming wrinkles. None of this stopped him from confidently striding forward from behind Tim, only hesitating a little before standing on Jason’s left side - naturally falling into place between the door and his children.

It was Tim who had most of Jason’s attention, the younger man scrolling on the tablet that was often attached to his hands when not near a computer. He had said something earlier about blood panels - Jason took a quick glance at the crook of his arm, only being able to look at the forming bruise for a second before having to shift his gaze away - and the second eldest of way too many siblings was very interested in that information.

“Jason,” Bruce’s soothing voice rolled over the mentioned man in a way that had Jason fighting himself to not relax. He would not react in any way besides anger, no siree. Jason was still pissed off at Bruce and getting drugged on the field is not going to be the cause of them fixing their many problems. He had a plan and he was going to stick to it, damnit. “How are you feeling?”

Rolling his extra-heavy head onto his left shoulder, Jason gave his not-father the sassiest look he had. “L’ke I’v b’n drugge’ l’ke a b’tch,” purposefully slurring his words, Jason got the satisfaction of watching Bruce’s eyebrows pinch together and his frown deepen. A small swell of satisfaction nestled itself next to the growing ball of comfort deep within Jason.

A squeeze to his ankle was a silent warning from Dick to play nice, and for that he leveled a glare onto his older brother.

Tim passing his tablet to Bruce was the only indication any of them got before he steamrolled into an explanation. “So, we did a couple of blood tests. Nothing worrying came up on the toxicology report, so we can rule out poison, drugs, as well as anything from Ivy. However,” the most recent ex-Robin continued to talk with an increased volume when it looked like Dick was going to interrupt Tim’s TedTalk, “another blood panel showed the reason why Jason’s loopy.” Here, the little shit let a wide grin overtake his previously neutral expression. Jason tensed up more, preparing himself for the worst. “You’re basically high on your body’s own serotonin and dopamines.”

A silence permeated the room as all occupants stared at Tim in various forms of disbelief.

“What you’re saying,” Dick hesitantly spoke up, his grip becoming just a little tighter. “Is that Jason wasn’t drugged?”

Tim huffed, putting his hands up. “I don’t believe so, no. From what the reports showed Jason just got a sudden rush of happy hormones - enough to knock anyone down. His body just suddenly decided to make up for the past couple of years.” Tim’s smirk grew when he said this, and Jason realized with the agony of a man about to face his own death that he was never going to live this down.

“F’ck,” Jason mumbled. “Wh’n will i’ wear off?”

“Probably in a couple of hours, but we need to get you prepared for a crash.”

“What do you mean?” Bruce spoke now, eyes finally leaving the tablet screen to look at the computer-genius.

Tim rolled his eyes, his smug face finally going back into the same ��report mode” anyone who worked with Bruce eventually developed. “He’s basically high right now, yeah? Jason had a foreign amount of hormones rush into his system. His body is producing all of them without being used to it - meaning nutrients are being eaten up and not getting replaced fast enough. There’s like an eighty-seven percent chance Jason’s gonna drop and continue to try to sleep it off.” A small baby scowl graced Tim’s face, “It’s on the report.”

Bruce raised one of his hands and reached up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Right, right - can you go get Alfred and ask him to bring any needed equipment up to Jason’s room?”

“Wai’-” Jason protested, trying to jerk his body up. “‘M no’ goin’ up in’a tha manor.” He snarled a bit when Dick’s hands came up to placetate him, reaching for his familiar rage only to come up empty. “Take m’ t’ my apartmen’!”

“Absolutely not.” Bruce’s voice cut through any protests Jason voiced. “We still don’t know for sure if this wasn’t an attempt to drug the Red Hood. Until we know for sure why your body decided to produce these hormones you are staying in the manor.”

“No.” The word practically dripped malice, the teasing atmosphere Dick tried to cultivate snapping like an old rope under too much tension.

“You will be staying in the manor so we can monitor your condition.” Bruce said stubbornly, moving closer to Jason. “That is an order. One that will be followed.”

“Dick c’n monitor me ‘n my apartmen’ jus’ fine.” Jason protested, working extra carefully to keep his words from slurring. The fuzzy feeling was fading, but not nearly fast enough in the man’s personal tastes. Whatever happened, though - whether he really was drugged or if this was just an unexpected hormone uptick like Tim thought - he was not staying in the Wayne Manor.

“Jason-”

Said man harshly cut off Bruce, an ugly snarl on his face. “No. I am no’ stayin’ here. E’pecially after las’ time.”

“Bruce,” Dick cut in now, “I’ll keep an eye on Jason at his place. All he’s gonna be doing is sleeping.”

Bruce let out a low rumble of frustration. “We don’t know if this was intentional, or what caused this. Jason needs to be monitored.”

“An’ he will be. Wi’h Dickface.” Jason said, angry with Bruce talking about him like he wasn’t sitting right there.

“It’ll be fine.” Dick assured, hand never leaving Jason’s ankle. “I’ll take anything he might need back with us, I’ll keep an eye on him, and we won’t have any more incidents.”

“Besides,” Tim cut in, tired of not getting to say his piece. “None of the bodycam footage showed Jason getting hit by anything. We couldn’t find any puncture wounds, and his helmet filters out anything airborne and not approved.”

“Lis’en ta your lil’ birdie.” Jason said, aiming an unsteady glare at Bruce. The fight was slowly draining out of him, warm feelings rushing in to take the place of familiar anger. Jason was tired. He just wanted to curl up on his bed in his apartment, not anywhere near the manor.

Bruce glared at each of his children, causing Jason to gear up for another argument. However, before any altercation could occur, a familiar alarm rang throughout the Batcave. The noise startled the resting bats if the beating wings and panicked calls could be attested.

In a flash, Batman was out the door of Jason’s hospital room with Red Robin on his heels. Nightwing moved to follow, before being stopped by Jason growling out a demand. “Help me ou’ ‘here, Dick.”

“What? No, you need to stay in bed-”

“Either you help me, or I do i’ on my own.” The Red Hood was already starting to manually swing his legs over the bed, desperately trying to get his world to stop spinning.

Dick made some protesting noises, rapidly looking between the still-open door and Jason. He appeared to have made up his mind when the black-haired man made a frustrated grunt akin to Bruce’s own before hurrying to Jason’s side. With practiced ease, he hefted some of Jason’s own weight as he assisted his little brother into the cave proper.

The two swiftly joined the rest of their family by the Batcomputer. Red flashing lights filled the many screens in front of them, a bright “Urgent!” symbol accompanying it, casting the various Birds and Bats in a haunting glow. Red Hood and Nightwing fell in line between Orphan and Spoiler, hovering like the rest of them as Bruce rapidly read the report being printed off. Jason managed to get a glimpse of the Justice League Dark insignia before Red Robin blocked his view, the younger working to shut off the blaring alarm.

When the annoying noise was finally quieted and the Batprinter stopped printing, Spoiler eventually broke the tense silence that filled the Batcave.

“What’s it say, Bruce?” She asked, hip cocked to the side and head tilted.

A grunt left the older man as he passed the still-warm report to the teenager. Batman turned and sat in the Batcomputer’s chair, rapidly pulling up various reports and logs, face carefully neutral.

With an annoyed grunt, Spoiler rapidly read the report before finally giving the waiting vigilantes her conclusion of the report. “Basically Justice League Dark is reporting a rapid uptick of spectral activity across. Be prepared to see ghosts, ghouls, revenants, demons - anything related to death magic.” She critically eyed the report before snapping her head up to meet Jason’s unmasked eyes.

“Wha’?” He snapped, shuffling to try to not lean as much on his smaller brother.

“Dude, what if that’s the reason you passed out?” She asked, excitedly explaining her theory. “You died, you came back and no one knows how. You call yourself a zombie - what if the death magic uptick caused you to pass out?”

Red Robin hummed, stepping closer to Spoiler in order to snatch the report out of his ex’s hand. “It’s possible, but we would need a magic user to come here and run some tests on Hood to be able to confirm. We don’t have a way to test for magic that specifically.”

Nightwing huffed, shifting his carried weight a little bit. “We can deal with all that later - I’m getting Hood back to his place so I can help him prepare for his crash later.”

Bruce’s head snapped back to glare at Dick. “No.”

“Yes.” Jason growled. “I’m leavin’. Suck i’ up, ol’ man.” He then bodily moved Dick towards the locker room, using his older brother as a human crutch. “‘M changin’ an’ I’m leavin’. An’ I’m kidnappin’ Dickface.”

By the time Jason and Dick had gotten their civilian selves into one of Bruce’s fancy cars, it seemed that their mutual guardian had given up on trying to keep Jason in the manor. The car keys and tupperware of Alfred-approved meals said man had given them on their way out of the cave said that much.

Either way, as Jason’s aching head rested against soothing glass, he let the gentle rumbling of the car and Dick’s chattering lull him into a peaceful doze - all helped by the content feeling growing in his chest at the thought of his older brother helping keep him safe.

［(－－)］zzz

Thank you so much for reading, and bit thanks to my wonderful beta Aerois! I couldn’t have done this without them!!! Chapter three will be out in a couple of weeks :)

Taglist: (If you want to be added or taken off just let me know!) @vixen-uchiha @apointlessbox @mentalcarebear @asphyxia778 @horribly-lost-and-gay @may-rbi @blacksea21090 @kyrianclawraith @fisticuffsatapplebees @stargazing-bookwyrm @ fisticuffsatapplebees

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdp fic #dpxdc fic #Putting the Fun Back in Funeral #Dead on Main #the spirit of gotham is a lesbian #ao3 #pariah dark is a seahorse dad #these tags will make sense soon :)#i promise

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mannatea · 2 years ago

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Colloyd for the ask meme? 👀 Or Colette if rather that instead!

Both for you ma'am!

when I started shipping it if I did: Immediately, it was just so obvious right from the start.

my thoughts: I really enjoy their dynamic and think they play off of one another well. They're basically in sync when it comes to their ideals (which is what peak performance looks like). I love that the story lets us see how much Lloyd cares about Colette and gives him a satisfying emotional journey to go hand-in-hand with the plot beats that revolve around Colette. He's not just saving her on the journey, he's also growing, and while he's working at it he influences both old and new friends, sometimes to startling degrees. The best thing about this ship is how deeply entrenched in the world they were written, and by "world" I mean the physical world and the way they occupy the minds of the people they meet and influence along the way. They both have a noticeable impact on everyone around them, and it's really so cute that it's hard to think about one of these characters without also having your mind turn to the other.

what makes me happy about them: They both just have so much room in their hearts to love, both each other and others around them.

what makes me sad about them: Colette has spent her whole life keeping a secret from Lloyd and that had to have hurt so deeply to have to do, especially feeling that the sacrifice of her life would (in the end, anyway) be for a greater good. That she wants to make a better world for Lloyd to live in is peak tragedy. I love how the game mirrors this exact type of sacrifice with Raine specifically (someone who had been willing to sacrifice Colette, even for a world that hates and shuns her) and even more directly challenges Lloyd's ideals of never wanting to sacrifice anyone. Just. THE THEMES OF SACRIFICE that surround these characters and even the people they care about is just MWAH.

things done in fanfic that annoys me: Writing Lloyd as an emotionally shallow idiot is enough to make me want to flip a table. He's emotionally intelligent and oftentimes perceptive, too. (Something something this is important with regards to his relationship with Raine.) Also, Colette being a complete airhead is a crime against humanity.

things I look for in fanfic: Honestly I love the way childhood friends to lovers is done with these characters, and prefer for an author to lean into that than shy away from it. The way they've grown together and learned together, the new experiences they've shared—the firsts. I also like seeing the really casual intimacy of their friendship morph naturally into something romantic.

who I’d be comfortable them ending up with, if not (just) each other: I like Sheena x Colette a lot. Also, Lloyd x Genis eventually could be cute. Or Lloyd x Colette x Genis. Or Lloyd x Colette x Sheena. I'm not usually much of an OT3 shipper or anything but the character dynamics in this game are good enough to make me consider how fun they might be! I'm sure there are others I could go for, too.

My happily ever after for them: They get rid of most of the exspheres, retire to live a quiet life near their friends & family if possible, have a couple of children if they decide they want them, and when their children are grown continue seeking out exspheres when information reaches them. Looove the idea of Colette following in Raine's footsteps as a teacher, but especially for young children (her good nature and infinite patience would be sooo perfect for it) and Lloyd maybe doing crafting to make a living otherwise.

who is the big spoon/little spoon: Like obviously Lloyd as the big spoon is cute BUT let's be honest... Colette as big spoon? Superior choice.

what is their favorite non-sexual activity: Holding hands and watching the stars. ♥

& for Colette!

How I feel about this character: She's wonderful! She's not my favorite but I've always liked her well enough.

All the people I ship romantically with this character: Lloyd, and Sheena is such a cute secondary option I can't not put it here. Some of the Zelos x Colette art makes me 👀 but I haven't decided how I feel about romance with them yet. Also Genis goes on this list.

My non-romantic OTP relationship for this character: Her interactions with Regal are SO good, but I have to say Raine. That OVA scene where Raine brushes her hair delighted me beyond words.

My unpopular opinion about this character: I doubt I have an unpopular opinion about her. I just think she's a really great character who spent years in this fandom being bashed and unappreciated because "lol she's dumb" or whatever was going on in 2004 that I actively avoided. In 2023 I hope we all know she's an unproblematic angel and we all stan.

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon: I very, very badly wanted more of her relationship with Phaidra and with Frank, especially after she doesn't have to be sacrificed. There should have been multiple cutscenes for that alone. I also feel ripped off that we never got a really serious conversation between Raine and Colette; I feel like Raine would have definitely apologized 1,000 times the second it was possible, but it's largely just...ignored that she knew the whole time and told no one. (Me, grumbling and kicking rocks, guess I have to write everything myself.)

my OTP: Lloyd/Colette will always be #1. The game sure wanted it to be, too LOL. That said, almost any ship with Colette is probably wonderful.

my cross over ship: I'll die before I ever have one of these.

a headcanon fact: She can drink most of the cast under the table. Also, as a bonus, I love imagining that in a Colloyd situation, she proposes to Lloyd.

#meme response #long post

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umemiyan · 7 months ago

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hi robin!!! <333 i hope your week is going well so far. how about 2, 12, and 15 for the ships of your choice or all of them if you're feeling friskyyyyy

hello my most wonderful and radiant miss kendall!!!! i shall do these for my darling beloved suga ❤️ sending you infinite hugs!!

2) neck kisses or thigh kisses?

oh god suga loves a good neck kiss, and he’s incredible at giving them too. he can leave the softest, sweetest little kisses, but have them gradually turning into the most teasing licks and nips to set the mood. it’s a subtle change because he’s so good at staying controlled and reading my energy, knowing exactly how to build things up to have me impatient and squirming. he’s so benevolent but such a fucking tease—he schools me SO hard in patience on a regular basis.

he’s a teacher and a good boy so i can’t leave any pretty marks too high up on his neck 😞 but he often lets me indulge in other places (thighs included) ❤️

12) constantly hanging off of each other or keeping a tame distance in public?

a fairly tame distance! we’ll of course hold hands or touch each other when we’re in a particular mood, but it’s not a constant need. he’s actually a little more touchy feely than i am but he’s very aware of time and place, so we’re not making passersby at the grocery store gag over excessive PDA or anything lmfao

he also knows i’m weird about touch sometimes, and while he’ll occasionally push my buttons to nudge me out of my comfort zone in a good way, he’s aware of when to hold back as well.

15) formal/fancy wedding or casual wedding?

kōshi honestly isn’t all that picky about it—if i’m happy, he’s happy, but the idea of something more stress-free and casual is indeed appealing to him, which is perfect because same LOL. we don’t need expensive things (because tbh who’s paying for that shit??? not us) or hundreds of people in the crowd, so something chill with our close friends and family sounds great ❤️

this or that selfship asks

#letters.#ss: koushi

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briamichellewrites · 1 year ago

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Bria’s documentary, Starting Over: The Story of Bria Michelle was receiving great reviews from critics and fans. Demi Lovato, who had just gone to rehab also released a documentary on MTV, but hers wasn’t receiving as much attention or publicity as Bria’s. Though her documentary was being praised for its honesty, it was also seen as a PR move as she had been in the news following an altercation with a backup dancer. Bria’s documentary didn’t need PR.

It was one hundred percent real and raw. She didn’t know very much about Demi because she was younger than her. Did she watch her documentary? No, it didn’t seem interesting to her. Jon watched it with his wife because he wanted her to know who his girlfriend was. Yes, she was very young but she was magnetic. She was surprised. Not just at her age, but how beautiful she was.

“My mother was born in Los Angeles. Throughout her childhood, she was sexually abused. Her father gave her drugs. He then took pictures and videos of himself abusing her. She became pregnant when me when she was sixteen years old. It was because of the pregnancy that the abuse was discovered.”

She went into detox to help her go through withdrawal safely before going into rehab for around nine months. After giving birth, she brought her to the police station and surrendered her. Two years later, the police found her body. She had died from a heroin overdose. For years, she wondered why she had given her up.

She thought maybe she was young and couldn’t care for a baby or she was coming out of a bad situation. Another theory she had was that she had another child and couldn’t afford to take care of a baby. It wasn’t until 2000, that she learned the truth. What were her feelings towards her mother? She had infinite sympathy and compassion for her. Her mother did the most selfless thing any mother could do and that was to give her a chance at a better life.

A life without abuse. There were so many things she wanted to tell her. One of them was that it wasn’t her fault and that she loved her. She also wanted to thank her. What was her name? Sara Michelle Hart. She showed the camera the tattoo she got for her on her arm.

Like everyone else, they laughed and cried. Dorothea could tell what her husband loved about her. She felt like she knew her, even though she only met her once. In one scene, she was in the studio singing, How Do I Live by LeAnn Rimes while one of her friends played the guitar. She had a great voice that didn’t need auto-tune.

“I’m the only girl in a friend group of guys. It’s a hard job keeping these guys in line.”

The guys laughed behind her.

Bria adopted a four-month-old Scottish Fold Calico cat named, Mama and her two ten-week-old kittens named Bert and Ernie. She initially only wanted one cat, but after learning about her having two kittens, she decided not to separate them. They were introduced to Cookies and Cream, as well as Mike. They sniffed each other out. They were so cute!

Mama was being protective of her babies because they were in a new environment and she didn’t know if it was safe. She held them close to her with her paw. He held out his hand to her to sniff. After she smelled him, she allowed him to pet her. She and her kittens were found in a cardboard box in the downtown area. Two volunteer cat trappers came and rescued them. They were taken to an emergency veterinary clinic to get checked out.

Despite being homeless, they were in good health and a healthy weight. They were then brought to the cat shelter, where they were given a private room until they became comfortable around the volunteers. It took Mama weeks before she let anyone get close to her or her kittens. The volunteers had to wear protective gloves because she would bite and scratch.

But with patience and time, she learned to trust. Just like Bria. Mike helped her set up the playpen she bought to separate Mama and her kittens from Cookies and Cream while they adjusted to their new environment. Once it was set up, they carefully put them inside before putting in their cat bedding, toys, water, food bowls; and litter box. Mama kept a close watch, as they explored their new home. They were scared and it would take a week or two to adjust.

briamichelle: Is five cats considered a crazy cat lady? Asking for a friend.

Bria posted a picture of Mama and her kittens to her Instagram to announce their adoption. She had an idea of fostering cats in the future after she retired from music. Mike thought that was a great idea and very rewarding! What was the process? She didn’t know. It was something she would have to look into. Maybe she could even volunteer at the shelter.

What did she and Bradley decide about their relationship? Nothing. He had yet to ask her to be his girlfriend. She was impatient because she knew he wanted to ask. He was supposed to ask her on her anniversary, but he didn’t. She liked him but she wasn’t going to wait forever. He told her to ask him the next time he came over. Maybe he wasn’t ready. If that was true, then he knew Phoenix had been waiting forever to ask her out. Forever? He laughed and smiled.

“He’s been waiting ever since the first day he met you.”

“Then why the hell hasn’t he done it yet?”

“Because Rob and Brad did it first.”

“Oh my god. I’m going to get on his ass now.”

He laughed again. Phoenix would be great for her. He was calm, and patient and was able to go with the flow. If she didn’t choose him, he wanted her to choose Phoenix. He put his arm around her. She looked at him and called him adorable. He laughed and kissed her. I love you.

No matter who she was dating, she would always have a place in his heart as his best friend. Bradley instantly heard the sound of meowing when he walked through the door. He counted the number of cats. Five. He looked at Bria and asked if she was crazy. Mike laughed at his question. He thought she was only getting one more! Not three! She defended herself by saying she was not going to separate a mother from her babies! Okay, that was a good point.

Mike decided to leave them be, so he said goodbye to them. Bria came over to him. He knew they had to talk, so they went to her living room and sat down.

Phoenix was bored at home, so he was more than happy when Bria texted him to come over. Something had to be going on because she never invited him over. He called Mike to see what the hell was going on. With a laugh, he told him that he might have told her about his crush on her. You bastard! He laughed again and told him to trust him.

When he got to her house, he was invited inside. After closing the door, he kissed her. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him closer. Finally! He pulled away and asked what happened with Bradley. They decided not to pursue a relationship and to stay friends.

She got tired of waiting for him to ask her to be his girlfriend. His heart pounded. Would she be his girlfriend? She smiled and said yes! He laughed with happiness before kissing her again, as he imagined fireworks going off. This was the woman he had been in love with for years. Rob had her. Mike had her. Brad had her. He pulled her closer. When they pulled away again, he laughed because he was so happy. He kissed her forehead before they went over to the cats.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia @boricuacherry-blog

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notmuchtoconceal · 2 years ago

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henry genuine article kept going on these insane frothing rants about douchebag porn in my DMs despite his likes being full of athleticbrutality posts and it made no fucking sense to me ever because, uh -- bro, did you see the shit he used to write?

the shit he used to write was nasty, brutish and long. the shit he used to write was exquisitely realized erotic horror that delved into the rawest part of the primal pain. i thought i was dealing with a sophisticated adult who had a handle on his own shit, but nope.

that was me. that was my projection.

all the good smut i used to write came completely outta denial. that shit would rise straight up outta my unconscious and i would look at it and compute cultural critique. that the substance of my unconscious is not my own, it was inherited -- is a true statement. these impulses came from others, and any shame i ought feel about them must be shared with my progenitors. if they can't fuckin deal, fuck em. i'm not gonna be a coward to preserve their feelings.

it's true. i did have a shitload of unconquered egoism i'd never properly dealt with. so do most men. the constantly agonizing, aching contortion at narcissism, narcissism, narcissism, my poor friend, the lil idiot, the wise man and eternal child, inflicted upon me were entirely at his own expense. his narcissism may not have originated in him -- from the descriptions of his mother and father he gave, i'm certain it didn't originate in him -- yet nonetheless, it was in him when we spoke, and if he's not dead in a gutter somewhere, it's still in him now.

if he doesn't wanna take responsibility for his own narcissism, he's making excuses. if he wants to scream the shit he hates about himself at the only people who can tolerate his presence long enough to know him, he's guaranteed to end up alone, which is what he wanted. he was deeply unhappy because he never knew himself because he spent his whole life trying to make himself acceptable to people who hated him, and i loved him, but i wasn't good enough for him, because he had no barometer for what constituted a healthy relationship or even a healthy reality.

bro, he wanted me to be his dad, but he also had me sterotyped as an idiot millenial for some reason?

he didn't think any of his presuppositions through because he just kept adopting everyone's opinions to not get hit. of course he was a raging narcissist. you were apparently the only one who listened to him and didn't judge, except uh -- every time you defended yourself against his insane projections, he thought that was judging.

he needed everyone to be his mother. everyone needed to offer him unconditional love and encouragement and infinite patience or else they were the bad man. he had no idea how deeply traumatized he was. he didn't know the things you knew. he talked fucking forty miles a minute and you never had any time to make him pause and clarify basic things about his worldview, so ya just sorta rolled with it.

ya keep rollin, ya get flattened. i don't know what to tell you, bro. the whole time you listened to him and expected no reciprocity in return because you didn't want anyone's help, because your problems are your own, but um -- y'know, all that's doin is you encouraging yourself to erase yourself?

i know what you think you're doing is that if you don't ask for accommodation people can't hold anything over you, but what you're actually doing is telling yourself you don't matter, cause other people are gonna constantly hold things over you, and if there must be a mandatory social contract you can't click off, you're entitled to collect on your due and free-associate or not to your heart's content.

you should have let your good friend know you could have done better than him. it's what he wanted. it's what he knew. it would have made him want you more, cause you know -- how good can you be if you're willin to put up with his bullshit, huh?

he's unpopular for a reason, you know how stupid you must look tryin to be his friend?

mate, how dense can ya fuckin be?

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toadstool32 · 1 year ago

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Ok I'm in bed time to write about my silly little guy

HAHA it's a lot ✌️

First image top left I made a lil diagram to show the differences design wise on how I draw darling and how I draw myself mainly that the no glasses version has darling with kind of a goofy face (u gotta make the eyes look at nothing!!) My dad says I have a goofy look w/o my glasses on bc i can't focus on where to look lol but I always draw myself w glasses Homestuck style that's my vibe they're stuck to my face. But for design sake I just put a tired look on

For the difference between the glasses version in the lil hair clips on darling otherwise it's literally the same. Ah but I tend to draw myself with no mouth while darling has the cat mouth. Slight differenceeeess.

Top right literally two self portraits love and peace

In the middle it's just the difference in dynamic regarding karamatsu aka karadari so sweeeeet hug hug!!! Lovely friends <3 I personally wanna take a bite of him it doesn't even have to be sexual it can be if he wants but it doesn't HAVE to be I wanna [I am forcibly dragged away from my phone] he's like my personal pin up doll I wanna see him in silly outfits and on his knew begging. For what? Idk man. Do I have to put a label on this post.man

Bottom left darling :3. Bottom right me but silly. It's me tiny yr friend tiny <obsessed w that line.

Uhhh second pic r expressions!!!

Darling kinda puts on a mask and by putting on I mean removes thyr glasses so everything is out of focus and not so scary yay for not having to maintain proper eye contact <3

First is a neutral face. Darling puts on a smile and keeps it all the time he's just a silly guy! W the glasses on they don't have to smile too hard n the cat mouth is kinda stuck now they r chill.

For a confused face if darling is out and about with ppl they just do the airhead act when they don't get something and is confronted about it (otherwise they just fake they know stuff "yes and " king of improv) if they act cutesy whoever is asking might go easy and explain. If they're just hanging out darling will just straight tell u they don't get shit tactless king 👑

Darling has a infinite patience bc they are also kind of a lot to deal with hey she gets it. No use getting mad at stuff. However they can get tired of u if u r being a dick but they will avoid confrontation n try to keep on smiling. if they're hanging out and they get irritated about something u Will Know, still have lots of patience but will actually let it out on you instead of grinning and bearing it. They're a forget not forgive kinda guy so if u did something real bad they will remember later and will curse you out when that happens but mostly tries to keep a good attitude! Dont mind!!!

Happy!!! Darling laughs at everything they're just a silly happy lil guy but while playing up the "happy persona" they will sound kinda fake? Anime girl teehee kinda laugh when Not playing up the airhead act they do like a deadpan laugh like they're so tired they don't have the energy to laugh. But they still laugh bc u said a funny :) a friend once told me I laugh like fenneko from agretsuko so if u need a reference maybe that 👍 they can laugh out loud real hard but u have to caught them off guard laugh so hard it Hurts <3

For the sad one darling will try to hide if they're upset by distracting u or changing the topic. Will try to distract themselves and try to have a good time or forget why they're upset up until they can't do that anymore but theyr face gets red and it would hard for them to speak so u Know something is wrong. Probs thought about their thesis.i also cry when I think about it. When they let it out they're a messy crier. All kicking and screaming v v ugly. Doesn't happen very often but when it does it's all so dramatic

Top right second pic! A transition of sorts <3 darling wears flowy clothes they would wear comfy shit n stuff that shows skin bc it's comfy and the movement on the fabric is just fun! They get cold easily so a big sweater for when they get cold or in this case tired of being social they can just hide. Being too long without the glasses also makes them grumpy cause they can't.see. so it's full on back in the cave mode.if ur close they will keep hanging out just with less energy if this is a social thing or a work thing they'll try to bail. Hit the bricks Dari!!

And the last one!! I love when a guy is two dudes auughh. I overbalanced my simple design of literally drawing myself by making it a double form kinda think. Max said that it's like a pokemon w a second form on low HP and YES it's like that

Ok that's all wow that got long

made doodles to show the differences between darling and me design wise and also some expressions bc i need to show u how this guy works do you see my vision

#darlingpost #hi. im in bed #ac

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solarisensun · 2 years ago

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Recently been brainrotting about how it would be to be ayato's personal assassin 🤤

Obv if you want to write this out it can be as nasty as you want it to be i won't complain one bit 🤭

As always love your works 😚💕 they are so incredible i will tell my whole bloodline about it

warnings: yandere behaviour

ngl same...

even in the trailer, it's obv that the kamisato clan handles much more than just cultural/festival events in inazuma. given that he's an important man in such a powerful position, it makes sense that he would have a personal assassin or group to handle the more... hidden affairs.

even though ayato has the shuumatsuban at his disposal, you've always been his favorite little plaything to send out.

initially, ayato is rather on-guard about the whole assassination thing. after all, what's to say that you won't turn around and stab him in the back? but you don't even flinch when ayato hands you your next name. nor do you hesitate to step into the skirmish whenever his life is in danger.

the sort of unwavering loyalty you have for him is... refreshing, to say the least. but ayato also quickly realizes that aside from being his employee, you want absolutely nothing to do with him outside of your 'work' sphere. in reality, the only thing keeping you bound to him is the simple piece of contract with both your stamps on it.

and this realization irks him. do you really see him as nothing more but your employer? surely, you must feel something for him. he has always played favorites with you after all.

archons, ayato just cannot seem to get your stoic looks out of his mind. being the man that he is, your role gradually shifts from personal assassin to personal bodyguard. he will have you follow him around like a second shadow.

it's not secret that the lines between your work and personal life around ayato begins to blur when your employer gets touchier than before. he makes you spend late nighs with him as he 'works' on his latest reports. and all of a sudden, it feels as if all of your friends have been slowly cut out of your life. every day and night, kamisato ayato is quite literally the only person you see as your missions become non esxistent.

one by one, ayato is determined to break you apart piece by piece and fix your jagged pieces back together again until the only thing you've ever know of is him. you may be strong, but you are no match for ayato's elaborate schemes.

whether you like it or not, kamisato ayato is still your boss. even though you are planning to leave as soon as your contract ends, will he allow it? because underneath his pleasant smiles and soft touches, there's already a gold ring with his name on it ready to be slipped onto your finger the moment his infinite patience runs thin.

once you are truly his, there will be no more of this assassination nonsense. no more steel edges and bruises. instead, ayato thinks that you'd look much better wrapped in silk and gold. and perhaps... underneath him.

#genshin thirsts #🍳. ayato #yandere ayato #yandere x reader #kamisato ayato x reader #ayato x reader #thirst hours

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stardewtales · 4 years ago

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Your shane x reader are some of the first I read when i got into sdv, and they still hold a li special place in my heart <3 I love the way you wrote shane, jas, and the farmer (you kept the farmer rather neutral, but you still gave her moments of personality, rlly great stuff!), anyway, I'd love any shane related stuff you would do, but if your looking for a request, the reader teaching him abt farming/gardening (planting hot peppers together eee) i think would be rlly cute-ok bye lysm!!!

A/N: hey lovely!! If you're still around, thank you so much for this. I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get to your request, but here it is! Hope it lives up to your expectations xx

Shane can feel you hovering behind him.

"What is it," he groans, not bothering to turn around.

"Sorry," he hears you say. "Just, be careful with the roots, please? I don't want all your work to be for nothing."

Well, he can't exactly fault you for that. If anything, he's ashamed because he was distracted while you showed him the whole thing about the roots.

He turns to look at you. "Would you, uh... mind showing me again?"

His stomach twists as you smile at him, thoroughly amused. "Sure thing. Here, let me get in there..."

You kneel beside him, knees firmly planted in the dirt beside his. You proceed to show him how to dig around the roots instead of into them for a second time that afternoon. For a second time, he finds it hard to focus with you so close, but he fights that a little harder this time.

"Here," you hand him back the trowel, "give it another shot."

He can't miss the way the look you give him is so damn encouraging. You've given him plenty of variations on that look by now, with various degrees of concern thrown into the mix. He proceeds to try digging up the pepper plant again, the sun boring down on the back of his neck as he does it.

"Am I getting it right, now?" he asks, glancing up at you quickly.

"Couldn't do it better myself," you nod exaggeratedly, and he fakes throwing dirt at you in retaliation.

It gets a laugh out of you, clear and joyful. It stirs something inside him, the feeling that's been nagging at him sort of often these days. It hits him like a ton of bricks in that moment that this is the feeling he used to chase all the way down the bottles, the sort of rush he used to think would make up for everything else.

He must've made a face when he realized it, because your brows furrow in concern.

"Are you o-" you start, but you're cut off short by a girlish squeal further down the field.

Him and you both shoot up, surveying the surroundings.

"Jas?" you half-shout, concerned.

"I think I need some help," her voice pipes up sheepishly, and the two of you finally spot her, fallen on her butt among the sunflowers.

You huff, relieved, and tell him you've got it with a brief touch on his arm before you leave in Jas's direction. Now that he knows she's not hurt, he can go back to making sense of his thoughts, yet he barely registers the lingering feeling of your fingers on his forearm.

He kneels and gets back to work, distraught. His first instinct is to worry. The therapist Harvey connected him with cautioned him pretty early on about the way some addicts replaced one addiction with another, and that all good things should perhaps be enjoyed in moderation while he was on the road to recovery.

You're the best thing in his life by far, but he failed to keep you at arm's length a long time ago now. He's not dense enough to be unaware that he's developed some pretty strong feelings for you. But this particular feeling is new-ish, and he doesn't quite know what to make of it. As his fingers dig up the pepper plant out of the ground and he gently removes chunks of dirt from the roots, Shane hopes really hard this doesn't mean he's allowed himself to veer all the way of the right path he's been trying so hard to stick to.

He hates to think about it, but maybe he needs to cool off on seeing you so often so he can at least get a grip. He can't even recall the last time he went a day without seeing you. Sometime in the spring, probably? It's the very end of summer now.

After he's transferred the plant to the wheelbarrow, Shane stands up and looks around. You're still helping Jas uproot some sunflowers, even though her initial job was just to collect the stray seeds. Officially, he and her were there to help you wrap up the summer crops so you could transfer some to your greenhouse. In reality, he was helping you; Jas was causing more trouble than she was helping, but you didn't seem to mind at all, more than happy to show her over and over how to handle things properly.

He didn't know how you did it. It's like you had an endless well of patience, and he knew he ought to have reached the pit of it by now. And yet, he had not. There were depths to your kindness that reached far enough that even after dealing with him through his recovery, you still had plenty left for Jas in all her fumblings and ill-advised adventures.

For the rest of the afternoon Shane managed to clear his mind and just keep working somewhat efficiently. Marnie came around just before dinnertime to get Jas, who was too exhausted from running around by then to protest. Marnie had also let him know she'd save him a portion of dinner for when he came home, but to take his time, which he'd made sure to thank her for.

It wasn't long until Jas left before you and him moved on to replanting the uprooted plants into the greenhouse. He liked that part more than the digging up; liked the hazy warmth of the greenhouse more than the blaring heat of the field. The two of you worked mostly in silence, both exhausted, him perhaps more than you.

After you planted the last of yours and he was halfway through his own last plant, he heard you clap your hands together to shake the dirt off your gloves, before you fully shrieked.

"What's wrong?" he quickly turned towards you.

"Your neck!" you replied, walking over to him. "Did you not put on sunscreen like I told you to?"

Shane instinctively reaches for the back of his neck, and while the sunburn doesn't hurt yet, he can feel the tell-tale heat coming off of it.

"Ah, shit. Think I missed a spot."

You tut at him, shooing his hand off so you can take a better look.

"You big idiot," you chastise him affectionately. "You're lucky I have an infinite amount of aloe in the house from last summer."

**************

As Shane steps out of the shower and into your steam-filled bathroom, he can already tell he'll be sore from all this work. He doesn't know how you do this every day. He tries to get a look at himself in the mirror, but it's too fogged up. Probably better that way, he thinks.

He's used your shower plenty of times before, and he's glad that at the very least it doesn't feel as awkward as it used to. While he was still in the pits of getting sober, you'd graciously let him stay over on your couch so Jas didn't have to see him struggle when it got too hard. He still doesn't know why you did that, or how to repay you for it.

After putting on his clothes, he steps out into your living room, where you're waiting for him with a huge tub of the goo you intend to smear on his sunburn. You've showered too, and made him do it after you because otherwise you claimed he'd just wash off the aloe later, which was probably right.

"C'mere," you beckon him over to sit on the arm of your couch.

He chuckles. It's funny to him, how bossy you get when you're trying to take care of him. Nevertheless, he does as he's told and dutifully sits down like you instruct him. And waits.

Nothing happens.

"You okay back there?" he asks, looking over his shoulder.

You raise a brow. "Aren't you gonna take off your shirt? How am I supposed to get this on you otherwise?"

He feels a bubble of panic rush up. He's in better shape than he used to be, but he's still not much to look at, and he doesn't like the idea of you finding that out like this. "Is that really necessary?"

You sigh, and he knows there will be no convincing you. He feels the tips of his ears burn as he lifts his shirt over his head, dropping it at his feet and taking precious care not to look back at you. "Happy?" he mumbles.

"Hmhm," you hum quietly behind him.

You bring your aloe-coated fingers to his burning skin, and instantly he feels consumed by ice-cold flames. He was not prepared for you to touch him quite so gently, to work the gel into his skin in tiny, careful circles. His throat runs dry as he's reminded of his earlier conclusion that he needs to take some time away from you, for both of your sakes. If the way his body is reacting to this isn't proof, he doesn't know what would be.

You let him know you're done, and he promptly puts his shirt back on. He wishes he hadn't when the stickiness gets a hold of the collar.

"So, just a heads up," you start, screwing the jar of aloe vera shut, "I'm gonna be really busy tomorrow I think. So maybe hanging out in the evening when I'm done would be better?"

He's taken aback by the way this is coming up faster than he anticipated. Still, No time like the present I guess, he thinks to himself.

"About that," he clears his throat, "I think it might be better if I spend some alone time for a while."

He watches you still. You look up at him slowly, visibly confused. "Have I done something wrong?" you ask, and it kills him. "I'm sorry if I have, I know I can be a little overbearing sometimes," you start to ramble, but he cuts you off.

"No, no, none of that," he tries to reassure you. "It's just, uh, how do I say this," he scratches at his head, genuinely at a loss. "Remember how I told you my therapist said I should, like, maybe be careful about things I enjoy a lot? And about... strong emotions?"

You nod, but he can tell from your slight frown you're still confused.

"Well, it's kinda like that. I feel really good when I'm with you. Maybe a little too good. Strong stuff. But I don't wanna depend on you to feel... good. I wanna keep this healthy, yeah?"

You ponder his words, and he can tell he hasn't really gotten his point across. "I mean, I think I get where you're coming from, maybe? But Shane, I think it's okay for you to have a support system. Is it really so bad if being with a friend makes you feel good? I think that's how most people feel."

He shakes his head, huffing. "No, it's not like that."

"Then what is it like?"

His eyes meet yours, and he feels weak. "Please don't make me say it," he whispers.

"Shane," you reach out to touch his shoulder, "You're worrying me."

He swallows. Before he knows it, it tumbles out of him. "I have feelings for you. I have for a while. And lately it's gotten a little out of control. So I need some time away from you to get over it, okay? I don't want things to be weird. I need you too much to have things be weird. So I need to figure it out before it gets there."

You stare at him, and he sees so many emotions run across your face that he gets dizzy.

"You... what?" you say quietly after a while.

He feels heat rise from his chest all the way to his ears, like some twisted type of nausea. "Forget it, alright? That's not the point I'm trying to make. I just..." he breathes, "I'll see you in a few days, yeah?"

He doesn't wait for a response. He goes for the door right away, in a real hurry to leave this place where everything is so blatantly yours, down to the smell of your lotion lingering in the air from your bare legs.

But you don't let him leave. He feels your hand on his arm, a real grip this time, and the next thing he knows you're reaching for his neck and bringing his mouth to meet yours. Shane thinks he's forgotten how to make his blood run, how to make his lungs breathe, how to make his limbs move. You're pressing your lips on his with a fervor he didn't even know you had in you. Then, with an instinct of its own, his body kicks back into gear, and he feels himself wrapping his arms around you, bringing you closer yet as he pours all the energy he has left into kissing you back.

It's desperation that compels him, because he never imagined this would ever happen outside of his mind, outside of his daydreams. He's not even convinced he'll ever get to do it again, so he's making this one count.

He genuinely has no idea how much time has passed when you break away from him, panting. You're not saying anything, just searching his eyes with yours.

"Please say something," he eventually breathes.

He watches as you swallow, then exhale loudly. "I don't want to see you in a few days only. I wanna see you now and in the middle of the night and every moment of every day. I don't want you to go and get over me, because I don't think I'll be able to get over you if you do, Shane. So don't leave me. Stay. Please."

Your words fluster him a great deal more than he already is. "Okay," he nods, in a half-daze.

"Yeah?" you make sure, still catching your breath.

"Yeah," he confirms. "Anything for you. Of course."

#shane x reader #shane x farmer #stardew shane #sdv shane #stardew valley x reader #stardew valley shane #stardew valley #sdv

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beevean · 3 years ago

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I haven't played TGAA, but I find the double standard in the way Barok is treated vs the way Miles, Fran and the rest of them are treated kind of strange. Barok is supposedly insufferable, plus he's racist and xenophobic. I ain't excusing that, but that's just how 19th century England was.

Miles and Fran have most likely sent innocent people to jail or even landed them the death penalty, simply because they cared more about securing a guilty verdict than actual justice. Godot is a literal murderer, and I've heard some unpleasant things about Simon and Nahyuta as well.

Yet, all (or most of) these characters are redeemed. Barok's biggest crime is...upholding the views of everyone else at the time. And that somehow makes him irredeemable, despite him actually warming up to Ryonosuke later. I'm not saying everyone should like Barok, but if Barok is irredeemable, so is every other prosecutor in AA.

This has been pretty much my point ever since they announced GAA's localization.

Barok is obnoxious, that is undeniable. Nipponese this, Eastern island that, his mocking of Ryuu easily crosses a line that leaves the player uncomfortable, as it should, because if his xenophobia doesn't bother you it says more about you than about the game.

But. Being obnoxious is all he does.

He does not present forged evidence, or use loopholes in court, or coach witnesses, like Edgeworth and Franziska used to do.

He's never ever physically violent against the defense, unlike Franziska, Godot, Simon or Nahyuta - he breaks his own glasses and bottles when frustrated, but he never harms anyone. (it says something that the entire series so far had only three prosecutors who are decent human beings)

His objective as a prosecutor is simply to find the truth. While he pushes very hard to prove the guilt of the defendant, it's clear that it's because he genuinely believes in his case - once Ryuu manages to convince him his theory makes sense, Barok drops most of his hostility and helps him. Unlike Edgeworth pre-heel face turn and Franziska, he couldn't care less about his own record, which means that he never deliberately gambled with the lives of potentially innocent people for his own ego. He is biased towards Ryuu, not only because he's Japanese but also because Barok admits to personally taking his cases even if they're banal, but he's not completely driven by a petty grudge like Godot - like I said, he'll help Ryuu win if he does a good enough job in his book, no matter his personal feelings towards his learned Japanese friend.

Both he and Edgeworth post-heel face turn share the same goal of finding the truth. However, Edgeworth has hurt at least one person in his quest, infamously Adrian Andrews when he threatened to reveal her mental illness in court and even said "if you kill yourself, that is no concern of mine". Compare this with Barok, who has shown himself capable of kindness as soon as his second appearance, when he (spoilers for Case 4 of GAA) subtly implied he would allow Roly Beate to keep his job despite tampering with the crime scene, because he could empathize with the poor man wanting to spend one day with his wife.

He's genuinely competent in his job, relying simply on cold hard logic to dismantle the defense's arguments as a good prosecutor should - to be honest, it may be the different writers, but Klavier, Simon and Nahyuta never struck me as being especially good at their job, with Klavier having to deal with a rather incompetent Apollo in AJ and Simon and Nayhuta happily abusing the old "attacking the defense" and "asking evidence for every word you say" tricks. (to be fair Simon gets to demonstrate his interesting manipulative skills in one case... Turnabout Storyteller, when he's Athena's ally. Also, I can't remember anything particularly horrible he does beyond being an ass like usual, in fact he may be the best prosecutor of the second trilogy)

Speaking of Nahyuta, the reasons I can't stand him while I love Barok are that Nahyuta is nothing but repetitive, unwitty, painfully realistic obnoxiousness propped up by a shallow twist revealed at the tail-end of the game; he has no real character development, because "sowwy guys i was good all along" is not development; he prosecutes simply to win even if it means insisting that a young girl committed murder in spite of the defense's reasonable arguments; there is no in-game justification for shit like him tormenting Athena in Japanifornia, or even him being an asshole in Japanifornia at all; and there's no weight in the realization that he let hundreds of innocent people being sentenced to death while he stood aside to protect his sister (like, that has got to mess you up a bit right? Can you show me that, game?). Barok not only has a much more fleshed out, drawn out backstory that explains most of his behavior (although I have my reservations at tying his racism to One Trauma); not only he slowly (... very slowly) warms up to Ryuu; not only he has humanizing traits like feeling horrible about being branded the Reaper of the Old Bailey, like it would happen to anyone being rumored to be a death bringer; but he is, most important of all, an overdramatic bitch and the contrast between his intimidating demeanor and the shit he pulls behind the bench is infinitely more hilarious than being told for the umpteenth time that you're a putrid lawyer who's going to hell. It doesn't sound like much, but a good AA game masters the art of "love to hate".

You know how Klavier is a base-breaking prosecutor because some consider him too nice? Barok is what happens when you take Klavier's honest, well-meaning demeanor and give him enough presence to be hated and loved at the same time. I completely understand if people find him too annoying (he's testing my own patience lmao), but I still think he is one of the best prosecutors in the series, both as a job and as the role of the rival.

#ace attorney #barok van zieks #anti nahyuta sahdmadhi #not tagging everyone else lol #this blog has ufficially become the barok defense club

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theunderneath · 3 years ago

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Fanon vs. Canon

Keep in mind some of the hotties we love in Fanon are absolute assholes and just plain gross in canon.

Red-Haired Shanks, we like to see as this goofy sexy hung of a man. Don't get me wrong, he is. Probably is that he probably smells like an outhouse mixed with a brewery. Have you looked into pirates' bathing habits? Nonexistent is the answer to that question. You could argue that there is probably a shower/bath on his ship. I argue back that Shanks is either too lazy or too busy drinking. At least, AT LEAST! He smells like booze and sweat.

I also argue that you probably wouldn't want to sleep with him since it would be a one-and-done. There is probably no relationship there and never will be if you approach him like a thirsty beast. He'll probably give you what you want but then just sail off. I feel like you'd need to be a friend first or get his attention (Him being a Yonko that won't be easy). Being a Yonko would make you incredibly smart, powerful, and in tune with your surroundings. Shanks is not dumb and I'll stand by that to the day I die. (COuld be my fanon coming out a little)

Eustass "Captain" Kid is a complete and utter sadist/psychopath who really only cares about his friends. The problem with that is that you either need to have almost infinite patience (Killer) or be just as sadist/psychopath as Kid (Also Killer).

Kid has literally hanged people on crosses, killed, and beaten people. People like to see him as a bad boy who needs an angel to come and help him get better. Sorry to break it to you, you'd be dead. I really do think Kid would be petty enough to hang someone up by their neck and gut them because of a slightly less-than-pleasant breakup. he is literally an overgrown child with the body of a gorilla. A more violent Luffy, you could say. The only cute fact about him is that he named his boat after his last girlfriend, I think?

Trafalgar D. Water Law, we in the fanon like to see as this cool and sexy badass who smells like vanilla. In actuality, he's probably an antisocial weirdo who smells like a hysterical surgical room, mutters about exploring someone's insides cause they made him mad, or his next pirate's evil plans. This dude is a scary man.

Look I could go on, and I will if you ask. Any thoughts?

#one piece #one piece shanks #one piece trafalgar law #eustass kid #one piece kid #Fanon vs. Canon

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christ0pher-evans · 3 years ago

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Bewildered Heart

Part Three of the Shattered Heart Mini-Series

Pairings: Chris Evans x Reader Warnings: SMUT 18+ / Angst / Cheating / Arguing / Mentions of Divorce Word Count: 3.4k A/N: omg I finally made it to part three! I know a lot of you have been waiting a while for this so I really really appreciate your patience and support, it means the world to me!! Let me know all your thoughts and feelings! X Please reblog and like🖤

Part One: Shattered Heart Part Two: Troubled Heart

♡

As soon as you put the phone down, you were frustrated that you didn’t tell Chris that you loved him; of course you did. Nothing he could do would make you not love him, you committed your life to him and he was your husband, obviously you’d always love him. And then you realised, there is no shame in that. Even though he cheated on you, even though he broke your heart, there would always be love between you, forever and that was okay.

The clarity in your rationalised epiphany put your mind at ease. You knew that you were heading into this conversation with Chris with a clear mind, you knew you wanted to try and solve your issues without fighting, without causing a scene.

Taking a deep breath, you began to brew a pot of coffee as you heard keys unlocking your front door.

You turned around, and there he was. Standing at the other side of the breakfast bar, looking as handsome as ever, wedding band reflecting the sun coming through the patio doors. You subconsciously play with your own wedding ring, feeling an odd sense of relief knowing neither of you had taken them off.

“Hi..” you breathe out, surprisingly happy to see him.

Chris shuffled closer to you, blatantly nervous but wanting to be near you. You were apprehensive but didn’t stop him as he leaned in and kissed your cheek tenderly, hand delicately touching your waist.

Breath hitching in your throat at the titillating contact, you move away abruptly, unnerved by the arousing thoughts that enthralled your mind. Busying yourself with pouring two mugs of coffee, Chris sits at the breakfast bar waiting for you.

You sit opposite him, passing him a coffee as he mutters a thanks. His voice is gruff, as if he hasn’t spoken to anyone in two weeks and that’s when you notice he looks a little gaunt. Dark circles under his eyes and slightly scruffy hair adding to the look that insinuates he hasn’t been sleeping well. Your heart falters marginally, just purely because you hate seeing him like this, no matter the situation. That is what you tell yourself anyway, silently commanding yourself to not feel guilty for these circumstances, Chris has bought this all on himself.

Even as you tell yourself that, you hate how it sounds. That’s not you. You’re sympathetic and caring, and you love Chris, you shouldn’t want to see him punishing himself but that seems to be what he has done to you without even knowing; he has turned you into a nasty character.

Having an internal fight with yourself, you want to make small talk but you just can’t, you don’t have it in you to be civil and act nonchalant when there is a dark cloud looming over your marriage. Life is too short to dance around a conversation this important.

“So, um, I’m not going to dance around this because I’ve had two weeks to really digest what’s happened and think about what it means for us, for our marriage..”

Chris takes a sip from his coffee and looks at you, eyes boring into yours like you’re literally holding his heart in your hands, ready to mend it or crush it.

“I’m angry Chris. I’m really angry because even on my darkest days, when I was feeling like our marriage was falling apart, when I was feeling so alone; I never ever thought about kissing someone else. You have always been my only choice, yet you chose someone else?” It sounds like you’re asking him but in reality, you know he already chose someone else over you.

Your voice was shaky, tears already threatening to spill down onto your cheeks but you revel in how freeing it feels to tell Chris exactly what you are feeling. Your emotions finally organised enough to speak your truth.

Chris stays quiet, clearly knowing you well enough to know that you need to carry on telling him how you feel.

“..And I’m fucking sad Chris! All I keep thinking about is how, for the past year, I’ve been sacrificing my time to follow you around the world, sacrificing my happiness to spend minuscule amounts of time fighting for our marriage and you just came to expect it from me. You kept work as your number one priority and let me fall into second place, even when it jeopardised my happiness.”

“That was never my intention Y/N! I never wanted or want you to feel like that. Your happiness is so important to me, I promise it will never happen again!”

“Chris, you threw our marriage away. Like it was disposable and we could just be two friends living together, like we didn’t promise to spend our lives together. You can’t pretend like it’s going to be okay moving forward, because what if I don’t want to move forward?”

Your breath caught in your throat as your words hovered in the air. You knew that was serious statement to blurt out but you knew that you unintentionally meant it otherwise you wouldn’t have said it. This conversation was going to be full of hard truths and you knew this wasn’t a time to hold back, your marriage was at stake.

“Baby, you don’t mean that? Of course you want to move on, we both do. Put this behind us!” You could hear the panic in Chris’ voice.

“How can you say that? How can you say you want to move forward and you want me to move forward when you’re the reason its crumbling in the first place? You put us in this mess! You still have to see this woman every day, how do we move past that?”

You felt sick to your stomach. Never in a million years did you think you would be having this conversation with Chris, especially not once you said your vows. You had made promises and a bond that could never be broken yet here you were, trying to hold the pieces together.

“Chris, you told me you’d love and cherish me forever, you told me that on our wedding day. I told you that you were it for me, and you said it back to me, you-“, your voice broke as the tears started to fall, no longer being able to stay strong.

After your tears had subsided, you sniffed and dried your eyes, determined to raise your points.

“And you.. you said it back to me Chris. You told me I was your number one always, that I was your endgame, forever, infinitely yours. Yet, here I am, wondering why I’m second best to another woman.”

You exhale with force as you begin to feel slightly lighter after getting that off your chest. It definitely doesn’t feel good to admit that you’re not sure if your marriage has a future but you know you have to be truthful. Having so much more to say, you bite your lip to control your word vomit, knowing this is a conversation and not a speech; Chris needs to be allowed to say his piece too. Awaiting his response, you shudder as he reaches out and takes your hands in his.

“Y/N, sweetheart, you are my number one. That hasn’t changed, it never will. I love you. I married you because I want you, you have all of me, always.” He squeezes your hand tighter, putting emphasis on his words but also emphasis on his grip, subconsciously telling you not to let go.

“I know I sound like a broken fucking record sweetheart, but I am so sorry I kissed someone else, it was dumb, so fucking dumb and I can’t explain why I did it. I was just so lonely, so detached from you that I craved comfort.”

“I was fucking lonely too Chris! How do you think I felt when you were at work all the time surrounded by hundreds of people whilst I was sat at home alone trying to think of ways to save our marriage!” You snapped, yelling loud.

Chris sighed, releasing your hands and raising his own in defence.

“Sorry, I.. I didn’t mean it like that. I understand that you were lonely and I was too, we have to respect that we both felt the same but dealt with it very differently. But baby, I could be surrounded by hundreds or thousands of people at work but it would make no difference to me because they weren’t you.”

Knowing Chris was coming from a sweet place, you took a deep breath, needing a minute to collect your emotions before speaking.

“I’m sorry I snapped but it feels like we are going in circles Chris, it’s de ja vu from last year. When I told you how I was feeling, you just dismissed it to make the problems disappear but that’s not how this works. Solving our problems means we have to talk about them..” You could feel yourself getting emotional, working yourself back up into an exasperated state. “..but when you tell me that you feel really lonely because I’m not with you, why is your first though not to come home to me? Why did you continue to go out and kiss another woman? It clearly wasn’t that fucking lonely for you!”

You rolled your eyes dramatically. Feeling this overwhelming satisfaction with your vicious snipes, you knew this would quickly become a fight. The communication barrier was shattered and you had become spiteful, and it was only a matter of time before Chris followed suit.

Chris stood up, cursing angrily as the legs from the stool scraped against the wood flooring. Throwing his hands up in disgust, he scoffed.

“Argh seriously Y/N? What did you just say about not dismissing one another’s feeling?! And here you are, telling me I can’t be lonely because I kissed someone else! Me feeling lonely is the exact fucking reason I did it in the first place!!”

Chris was shouting now, his voice bellowing throughout your marital home. You stayed sitting as the anger poured from his body, feeling equally as bitter.

“So am I meant to assume that every time you feel lonely now, that you’re going to go and kiss another woman? Soon, when you’re feeling really lonely you’ll be fucking someone else! We are married Chris! Shit, I’m meant to be your wife, I’m meant to be the one you kiss and fuck! How would you like it if I went and kissed someone at work because I was sad?” You sneered, desperate to get under his skin now.

“Don’t be so ridiculous, I told you it was a mistake, a one-off! It’ll never happen again! We can sort this out!”

As both your words became more heinous, you couldn’t control yourself. The fact that Chris was now trying to sort out the problems that you’ve been trying to fix for a year just because he got caught out, was diabolical. He had fucked up and was paying the price and he couldn’t handle that. He was coming across like the victim and it was making you queasy.

“Are you fucking serious Chris!! I have been trying to sort out these problems for the past year and you’ve been having none of it, telling me that we are fine and the tough time would pass. Yet here we are..”

You hated what you were about to say but with the anger coursing through your veins, you couldn’t stop yourself.

“..Here we are, teetering on the edge of a fucking divorce because you couldn’t stay loyal to your own wife, because you couldn’t be a decent husband, a decent fucking human being and care about someone else but yourself!!”

The words hung in the air like someone had screamed bloody murder.

Without even realising, you had stood up and was now opposite Chris, chest heaving after spitting such venom in his face. Chris was staring at you like you had unleashed a monster, a raging devil that you had been hiding for a while.

You looked at him, eyes heavy and chest thumping. You bit your lip; terrified of your confession but power hungry from the buzz that being brutally honestly had given you.

Chris only raked his eyes over your body once before he was stalking towards you, pushing and pinning you against the counter, left hand instinctively wrapping around your throat, eyes dark with lust and desire.

Growling in a low, fierce tone, he muttered, “I’ve fucking cared for you every damn day of our marriage, I’ll never stop fucking caring for you because you are my wife. Mine. And I’ll never touch another woman again, because this..” He pauses to grind his cloth covered cock against you. “..this is too fucking good to give up.”

With those words snarled into existence, his lips were on yours. Ravishing you like water in a drought, starved of what he wants, what he owns. And in a really twisted way, you loved it. You were craving his dominance, his power to control you with his touch. No matter what happened, you would always surrender to him because you needed him, you wanted him.

You couldn’t help but whimper as Chris’s hand moved from your throat and travelled down to your hip, leaving a burning path over your breasts and down your stomach in his wake.

“Look at my pretty wife, all desperate for me.” Chris smirked as he trailed kisses all over your neck, pining you harder against the counter to control your squirming. You were ravenous for Chris and you were absolutely fed up of trying to hide it.

He pulled your dress over you in one swift movement, leaving you in just your panties. You looked back up at Chris with lust filled eyes whilst his own eye fucked your now almost naked body.

You couldn’t wait any longer whilst he enjoyed the view, you were too desperate for him.

“Chris, please..” you begged.

Your lips crashed back together furiously, teeth and tongues clashing instantly. Chris continued to assert dominance, lifting you up onto the counter easily and thrusting two fingers inside of you; eager to watch you submit your body to him. You gripped onto his shoulders as he held you up with one arm on the surface, still kissing him like your life depended on it.

But suddenly, it felt like it wasn’t enough, you needed to be closer to Chris, you needed to feel closer to Chris. Starting to fumble with his jeans, you knew what you wanted. It only took Chris a few seconds to realise your desires and he was clearly more than happy to comply, allowing you to undo his jeans and push them down far enough to pull him free from his boxers. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, your core tightening around his fingers at the feeling you knew was coming.

He pulled his fingers out of your core, bringing them to his lips and licking them clean. Your stomach flipped at the view in front of you but your core ached to feel him inside of you again.

“Two weeks without tasting you is far too long baby girl..”

You groan before he smacks his lips against back against your own, even more turned on at the thought of tasting yourself on his lips.

Chris pulled back sharply, grabbing a fistful of hair at the back of your head and forcing you to look down between you both whilst the other hand guided himself to your entrance. Chris was already fully hard, ready and waiting for this moment, this feeling.

“I want you to watch baby. I want you to see me taking what’s mine. I want you to remember that there is no one else that can make you feel this good, remember that no one else can satisfy me like you do. This is mine, you’re mine and I’m taking it back.”

You felt weak under the spell Chris was casting on you. Hanging off of his every word, you felt like the twenty-something girl that met Chris all those years ago, giddy at your obsession with one another. Giddy with the feeling of being happy and in love.

Chris pushed into you. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling of him stretching you open, pushing himself further and further into you until you had swallowed him whole. Your mind reeling at the feeling you’d missed so badly.

Immediately picking up the pace, Chris was thrusting into you harshly, hitting the spot that only he could find. Your kisses were sloppy, rushed and desperate as he kept up his relentless pace.

You knew this wouldn’t last long; the culmination of passion, urgency and anger fuelling the fire you were feeling that you had been craving for two weeks now. The desperation of needing to feel your husbands touch was intense, but neither of you wanted it to last long. It was clear this wasn’t about love or reconciliation, this was about need and ownership; proving that you only belonged to one another, no matter what happened. This was a reminder of that feeling, to anchor yourselves together again.

As Chris maintained his toe-curling pace, your fingers fumbled down to your clit, clumsily dancing over the sensitive bud and adding to your already overwhelming pleasure.

Chris looked at you before spitting a splurge of saliva down onto your clit, moistening the area against the touch of your fingers. As it dripped through your fingers and over your clit and core, you were fiercely encompassed with your desire for this man. This sex was filthy, messy and downright the sexiest fuck you’d ever had together.

As you looked back up at Chris, panting heavily from your arousal, you kissed him lewdly. Biting down hard on his bottom lip, you pulled it in between your teeth; drawing out his own chokes of pleasure.

Chris was close, you knew he was but so were you. The feeling of powerlessness washed over you as your orgasm began to build. Chris was in complete control of your body, clawing to pull every inch of pleasure to the surface before he let you cum. His thrusts became erratic, pushing you further than ever before as your body started to tremble.

“Chris, please..”, you begged again.

“I told you this was too good to give up baby girl! Take it, take all of me!”

With your legs trembling, you gripped Chris’s biceps tightly, nail marks cutting into his perfect skin as your orgasm shot through you. Chris grunted a ‘good girl’ as you came and his thrusts faltered, his own orgasm jolting through his body.

You stayed there, heads resting together and chests heaving, the only sounds filling the room was your dizzying panting.

Slowly, as your head returns from the clouds, you realise what you’ve done. The repercussions of having sex with Chris amongst this mess was only going to complicate things further. How do you tell Chris that you might want a divorce after doing that with him? How do you make an educated decision with that playing on your mind? This man consumes you, his love consumes you and you never want to lose it but are you just love-drunk, not seeing the bigger picture?

Chris brings you back to reality, helping you down off the violated countertop. You quickly redress, never giving Chris eye contact and staying silent. Your head spinning from the last hour; from arguing and screaming to fucking on the kitchen counter.

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Chris says sheepishly.

You look at him and shake your head, muttering a ‘no’.

“Look Y/N, I know we said a lot of things we didn’t mean-”

“Chris, stop..” you cut him off, “I meant everything I said. This isn’t something we can dodge, we have to be truthful, our marriage is on the line and I really don’t think you understand that?”

“But.. I- We just..” Completely at a loss for words, Chris stays quiet.

“I think you should leave Chris.” You whisper as yet another tear falls from your eyes.

Chris just nods his head, noticeably shocked by your words. He quickly kisses your cheek before hurrying out the door. As soon as the door shuts, you collapse onto the wood floor. Feeling Chris over every part of you, you feel even more confused than earlier. Your mind and body clearly want Chris, so why isn’t it that easy for your heart to make that decision?

♡ Final Part: Healed Heart

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