#i mean i’ve giffed a lot of the first part befor he gets to the city | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nghtwngs · 2 years ago

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solace

description; After a long day, Nikolai finds relief in you.

pairing; king!nikolai lantsov x fem!reader

genre; smut, fluff, established relationship

word count; 1.8k

warnings; 18+, somno!! (which automatically makes it dubcon, so don’t read if that makes you uncomfortable), reader is asleep for part of this but has consented (pls discuss boundaries with your partners guys), fingering, unprotected sex (a no no irl), cream pie, oral (fem-receiving), cum-eating, swearing, nikolai needs his own warning, christ this is kind of depraved (but also tender?)

notes; i have been thinking a LOT of thoughts lately. this is the first time i’ve ever written smut, so it’s probably terrible haha never thought i’d be writing anything explicit but i was not strong enough to resist this man. but i think this is a one and done type of thing. i do have a few other nikolai works in my drafts though, so if i ever get around to it, i’ll finish and post them

notes ii; i saw that s&b got cancelled :(( i’ve never seen it nor have i read any of the books… (sorry if nikolai is ooc) but hopefully i’ll get around to either of them eventually. mostly im sad bc there likely won’t be a resurgence in nikolai fics, and i already feel like i’m in a drought. i mean look at him!! (i <3 gif makers)

Nikolai is exhausted.

It’s late when he returns to his chambers. His mind is still filled with all the tasks he had performed that day while thinking about all the ones left for tomorrow. But his eyes had grown too bleary while staring at a document (a trade agreement perhaps?), reading the same line for the hundredth time before he was finally lured by the idea of slipping into bed with you. He was hoping he would come back before you went off to bed, but it was already well into the night, and you would be asleep by now. He enters your shared room and finds you sleeping the night away.

He’s not sure how you do it. He thinks the bed is much too big to sleep in alone and can no longer slip into a restful slumber without you. When Nikolai catches a glimpse of your face, soft and relaxed—not a worry in sight—his heart flutters. A smile curls his lips at the sight of you while he changes out of his clothes for the day.

Once he frees himself of his shirt and trousers, he slips on a soft pair of pants. He makes it towards the foot of the bed, noticing that the comforter was no longer tucked in. Instead, it pools around your calves. You’re laying on your side, hands tucked beneath your head. His hazel eyes stick onto the expanse of your skin, and before he realizes it, his fingers are delicately wrapping around your leg. You’re cold to the touch. He makes a move to cover your skin with the rest of the comforter.

However, you’re more enticing than you realize. He tells you so often. You find it difficult to believe, but it’s just the plain truth, and Nikolai is an honest man.

Most of the time, of course.

With a small breath, Nikolai pushes the blanket further up, revealing more and more of your legs. His eyes, tired but greedy, devour the sight. When he reaches past your thighs, his lips part when he realizes that you’re completely bare. You must have been waiting for him.

He nearly groans.

You had given him your explicit permission to do this before, but Nikolai had never been given the opportunity. Until now. Is this what you were hoping for when you fell into the land of dreams? Saints, the thought sends blood rushing down to his cock.

Your slit is now exposed to the cool air, and you squirm a little. His eyes glance up at your face, wondering if he had already woken you. No matter though, he wouldn’t mind having you either way. His fingers dance along your thighs, edging closer to your cunt. You’re gorgeous, he thinks before running a finger over your soft folds. When he reaches your hole though, he feels a familiar stickiness. Had you already touched yourself? Was that how you were able to fall asleep in this bed that was much too large for just one of you?

He collects some of your release on his finger. There’s not a lot that hasn’t already dried, but just enough to start circling your clit without too much friction (with some help from his saliva). He hears you breathe in deeply as he draws lazy circles with his finger. With his other hand, he palms himself through his pants, already hardening from both the sight and feel of you.

Part of him wants to see the rest of you, but he doesn’t want to leave you cold. He wonders if you’re wearing anything at all—the answer is likely not. It’s not long before you’re wet enough, and he’s able slip two entire fingers into you. You’re already clenching around his hand, a soft whimper leaving your pretty lips.

Nikolai could come from this alone.

You squirm again, unknowingly beginning to grind into his hand. Nikolai watches your lips part, the prettiest sounds escaping your mouth. You’re nearly there. He can feel you tightening around his fingers, but he won’t let you come just yet. Right before your peak, he takes his fingers out of you. Your legs shake as he rubs the skin of your thigh soothingly.

He shrugs off his trousers, stepping out of them and freeing himself. The tip of his cock is red, and he uses his fingers to smear the pre-cum around it. He groans slightly as he pumps himself. With little patience left, he lines himself up with your entrance and lets out a soft sigh at the feeling of your wetness.

He drags his cock through your cunt, gathering your arousal. He slips into your warmth with a sharp exhale, feeling your tight, wet walls squeezing him. Nikolai has half a mind not to curse, not wanting to wake you. He holds the side of your leg with his hand and fights the urge to shut his eyes. He holds himself still for a few moments, and yet they feel like an eternity.

He wants to watch himself slide in and out of you. He pulls his hips back until only the tip of him is left before pushing back into you deeply. Nikolai starts a steady rhythm, pleasurable but slow enough to keep him from spilling into you too quickly.

A whine leaves your mouth, your face scrunching at the feeling of being stretched and filled. “N-nikolai?” Your voice is raspy and filled with sleep as your hand reaches up to rub your eyes. You can barely keep them open. It’s adorable. His cock hits a sensitive spot, causing you to moan out. “Shit.”

“Darling,” he greets as if he’s not buried deep inside you. He grins down at you and starts to thrust into you faster.

Nikolai beams when a bright laugh comes from your lips.

“This is a surprise,” you murmur, grinding down onto him.

“A pleasant one, I hope?”

“Very. When did you get back?”

“Not long ago… I wanted to finish everything before you fell asleep, but there was a lot of work left to do. I saw you looking just lovely in our bed and decided to surprise you.”

You smile sympathetically, knowing how busy your king is. The blanket, which was bunched up over your torso, is moved to the side by you, exposing the rest of your body to his eyes. He’s right. You aren’t wearing anything at all. You turn onto your back and reach down, lacing your fingers with his. “I’m glad you did. Though I do think some rest is in order for you. You look terrible.”

He scoffs, sounding bewildered at the notion that he could look anything less than perfect. “Terrible? You wound me, wife.”

“Only for the sake of keeping you humble, my king.” You let out a chuckle which bleeds into a moan when he thrusts into a particular spot.

“There?” he asks, pushing into the same place once more.

Pleasantly, you sigh with a nod. “And I only meant ‘terrible’ in the sense that you look exhausted. Otherwise, I suppose you’re pretty perfect.”

A soft smile takes over his features. “I know, darling.”

You moan his name, pulling him down into a kiss. “You feel so good.”

He returns your kiss, grunting at how tightly your walls are clenching around him. His fingers find your clit, rubbing tight circles. You cry out, and he swallows your sounds with another kiss.

“That’s it,” he coos as you bury your face in his shoulder.

“Nikolai,” you gasp. “I’m so—so close.”

“I know, darling. It’s going to feel so good. Let me take care of you.”

Nikolai feels your lips pressed against the column of his throat, placing wet kisses to his skin.

“Saints, please… I need you. I want you to fill me.”

He lets out a heavy groan, his eyes nearly rolling back as he moans out your name. “Don’t worry, I promise I will. Fuck, you’re so tight.” Nikolai begins to babble. “You’re doing so good for me, taking me so well… sound so pretty, so, so warm. Perfect… Shit, I’m close. You have to come first—Can you do that for me? Good girl.”

His fingers move even faster while he fucks himself into you. Your release hits you quickly as he pounds his length into your sopping cunt. You tighten around him, causing his hips to stutter before he finally spills himself inside of you. You whimper, feeling his hot cum fill you.

He collapses onto you, his cock still inside your spasming warmth. He wraps his arms around your body. It’s like he’s melted into you. You hold him close, both of your chests heaving. One of your hands finds a home in his blond curls, running your fingers through them in a way that always soothes him.

“I love you.”

He grins into your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare chest. “I love you too.”

A few minutes later, he pulls out, leaving you emptier than either of you would like. He stares down at your puffy lips, watching his cum drip out of you. In a daze, his fingers rub his release around your folds, eliciting a soft whine from you. He doesn’t know whether he wants to push it back inside you, to fill you up again, or to clean you up with his mouth.

He thinks all three would be agreeable.

Nikolai leaves a trail of kisses down your chest, stopping at your entrance. “Will you let me clean you up, darling?”

You raise your eyebrows at him. “You don’t mean with your mouth, do you?”

“C’mon, I haven’t gotten to do this in ages—and it’s my favorite. Let me taste you, love.” He says this between several kisses to your thighs.

You pull him closer, cupping his face with your hand and thumbing his cheekbone. “I just want to make sure you’re getting enough sleep, Kolya. You’re going to be so tired in the morning.”

“I’ll be fine,” he reassures you, “and even better if you let me do this.”

He tries to stifle a grin. You’re unable to resist him or deny him of anything he wants, and he likes to exploit this fact from time to time. Alright, perhaps all the time—especially when what he wants is you. Who were you to keep him from his heart’s desires?

You sigh in defeat. “Okay, fine, but you’re sleeping in with me all morning.”

“I wouldn’t want it any other way,” he answers, knowing just as well that he couldn’t say no to you either.

His tongue darts out, wetting his lips before he wraps them around your clit. He delights in the noises you make. Your legs nearly close around his head, but he places his hands on your thighs, keeping them spread. He licks between your folds, moaning at the taste of your shared release.

Nikolai looks up at you, meeting your gaze with a devious grin. “Darling, you taste delightful.”

“Nikolai,” you whine. “Please.”

The desperation in your voice is enough to make him hard again. He smiles, a softness in his eyes as he admires your blissed face. “Anything for you, darling,” he answers, putting his mouth back on your cunt, doing whatever he can to draw out those pretty noises from your lips again.

#posting this and running away #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov smut #nikolai lantsov fluff #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone imagine

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starcrossedxwriter · 1 year ago

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Wicked Fantasies Part 8 (MBJ x OC)

A/N: This gif has nothing to do with anything other than I thought it was hot as fuck... and baby boy gets a little... rough and ruthless this chapter (in a good way LOL) Enjoy!

***

Michael’s hand lazily grazed the length of Raven’s spine as they laid in bed, limbs tangled and sheets disheveled from their wild night together. It was their first night back since their trip and jet lag spurred Michael to finally introduced ropes into their play and fuck, Raven had been in heaven. Of course, now her body was sore and aching from hanging from his set up and the only plans she had the next day were to sleep. But it was worth every ache and pain she felt and she would gladly sign up for it over and over and over again.

“You ever think about marriage… kids?” Michael asked, knowing the question was random but it had been on his mind since before it was appropriate to envision that life with her. And with whatever Tasha had planned barreling down on him, something in him yearned to know that she saw a future with him, that she wanted a future with him.

“Yea. I mean I didn’t think it would happen for me. I think about marriage a lot. Kids are… tough,” she muttered, her nails grazing against his skin, so lightly it made him feel almost ticklish.

“You’re afraid of not being there for them?”

Raven shifted uncomfortably on his chest. She rested her head against his heart, the soft thumps of his heartbeat soothing to the anxiety coursing through her. She had thought about all of these things with Michael but it was still impossible to believe she truly deserved them, that he truly wanted them with her. And she hated how easily he saw through her, saw her deepest fears and insecurities as if she had just spelled them out for him.

“Yea, I guess… I wouldn't wish my life on any kid and there’s a lot of all this we have no control over. How much time… when yours is up. It’s always been hard to think about the future though… plan for it. I’ve just always felt like I was being chased and assumed that one day it would catch up to me? This is the first time in my life I don’t feel that… since I met you. So now I suppose I should think about the future.” She paused. “I think I’d like it… not sure how good I’d be at it. Being a mother. Your mom is the closest example I have of a good one. But the chance to build my own family? One with all the things I never had, all the things a child deserves? Yea, it would be nice.”

“What do you think about building that family… with me?”

Raven perked up, shocked to hear those words come out of his mouth. She did not know why but she had not considered the conversation taking this turn for some reason. The idea of him wanting to marry her was about as foolish as wishing diamonds to cascade from the sky like rain. It just was not realistic.

“In my wildest fantasies. But…” her voice trailed off.

“What?”

“I love you… adore you. But I guess there’s still a piece of me that doesn’t believe this is real. That believes you’ll wake up one day and remember that I was the girl you paid to have sex with you. You know… can’t turn a whore into a housewife. And you wouldn’t be wrong, I’m not exactly wifey material. And hell, I’m probably the last person you should want raising your kids. Not a role model, nothing to aspire to. My life is a mess.”

Michael knew a few months would not undo years of self deprecation but it felt like a physical wound to hear her count herself out like this. How could she not see how perfect she was? How amazing she was?

“You shouldn’t talk about yourself like that, baby. And should give yourself more credit. You are one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, you’re a survivor, hardworking, gentle, nurturing. That’s everything I want in a wife… and a mother for my children. You’re so much more than whatever your dad or idiot sister convinced you were. You’re everythin’.”

“You don’t mean that,” she whispered, turning away her head to face the opposite wall. She could not let herself believe that. They had not been together long and Raven was still waiting for the honeymoon phase to end and the other shoe to drop. She knew he would walk up one day and realize he could not build anything real with her. He would hurt her and disappoint her just like every other person in her life. She desperately desired to be wrong but she also refused to let herself have too much hope. Because of all the things and people she survived in her life, Michael was the one thing she knew had the power to actually destroy her.

He pulled her deeper into his chest and kissed her forehead tenderly. “Aint ever told you shit I didn’t mean, baby girl. And I get why you don’t believe it or trust it. But I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you. I’m here for the long haul, we’re gonna build that life together, I promise.”

Her response felt lodged in her throat, too painful to release into the space. She tried to get them out but saying them out loud would make them too real. So she just pressed her lips into his chest before turning over and closing her eyes. She knew she did not need to say anything for Michael to know how she felt. He always knew.

As he watched her attempt to sleep, Michael thought about his meeting the next day with Alex. He had spent his entire trip and tonight so wrapped up in his girl that he almost forgot Tasha was threatening to destroy their bubble. He had to figure out what to do because he saw that future with Raven as clear as day and no one and nothing would stand in his way.

***

“I can’t believe you,” Alex muttered to herself as she paced around her office. “You know… one day, I would just love it if you summoned me or came down here with good news. You saved a fuckin’ family of puppies from a would-be murderer, helped an old lady cross the road, saved someone from a burning building… solved fuckin’ world hunger and told someone. But nooooooooo. It’s never that. It’s always some problem because you literally can’t keep your fuckin’ dick to yourself. Have you ever heard of masturbation?? O-Or a fuckin’ fleshlight??”

Michael groaned as she ranted about his recklessness and foolishness.

“So you gon’ keep yellin’ at me or tell me how to fix this?”

Alex scoffed. “Fixing the fact that you got involved with, not one, but TWO prostitutes, proceeded to fall in love with one of them like this is some nigga’s version of Pretty Woman, causing the other prostitute to get so jealous, she is extorting you for money is so far above my pay grade, it isn’t even funny.”

“The amount I pay you?? Ain’t shit above your pay grade,” Michael muttered under his breath. “Look, I don’t know why you’re mad at me! I’m the victim here. Blackmail is a crime!”

Alex could not keep the shrill laughter that bubbled to her lips from spilling over. “Oh fuck off. ‘I’m the victim,’” she mimicked with a vicious glare. “You're not the victim. You’re the fuckin’ unserious superstar idiot I’ve saddled my entire career to. But you sure as fuck aren’t the victim. The only victim here will be Raven. And me when I die prematurely from dealing with your bullshit. But mainly Raven when this girl tells the entire world she made her living getting paid for sex. They’ll rip her to shreds. You wouldn’t understand it because you’re a man and your privilege insulates you. You’ll be a punchline on late night tv for a few weeks and move on but she won’t come back from this. The world won’t let her come back from it.”

“Didn’t come for a feminism 101 lecture, Alex. I know this fucks her over more than me. How do we fix it??”

Alex threw her hands up in the air. “Fuck if I know? This is why I don’t like PR relationships, Michael. It always falls apart eventually, secrets don’t last in our world. To be honest, if it’s gonna come out anyway, I'd just admit the truth about how you met before Tasha could. You could own the narrative that way at least. But Raven isn’t going to agree to that, no woman in her shoes would.”

“So aside from giving her more money, how can I stop this?”

“Wait more money? You already gave her some?”

Michael shrugged. “Yea like $10k. Why?”

Alex shook her head. “Well she’s not gonna stop at $10k. Honestly, that’s light work for how much I would’ve demanded. Now we’re dealin’ with a fucking stupid extortionist too.” She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Eventually, it won’t be money she wants, Mike. She wants you and if you don’t want her, then I don’t know how to fix this.” she paused. “What did Raven say about all this?”

Michael grimaced. “I… haven’t told her.”

Alex’s eyes grew wide. “Annndd that’s why you schlepped your stupid ass all the way down here instead of having me come to you. You can’t keep this from her. It’s her name and reputation that’ll get dragged to hell and back if Tamara or whatever this fuckin girl’s name is, decides to skip her happy criminal ass to Page 6. You have to tell her, Michael, and let her know that you’re still in contact with this woman. I can sell water to fish in the goddamn ocean, I can spin anything out there. But I won’t be able to mend your relationship if she gets upset that you lied. Tell her and get ahead of this.”

“I need a plan first. Raven is the strongest person I know, don’t get me wrong. But she’s been through too much shit for me to dump a problem I created on her doorstep. No one… no one in her life protects her. Protects her feelings and body and…” he ran his hand over his face. “I tried countless times since we got back but she’s finally happy, Alex. Finally has some peace. Is it that wrong for me to just pay Tasha and keep it movin’? Raven never even needs to know.”

“It’s not wrong… the instinct isn’t wrong but it’s not right either when that peace is fiction. It’s not real, Michael. She deserves to know something that affects her life as much, frankly more than yours. Your reputation will recover, it always does. I’m not sure hers will. And maybe she would… make a different choice about your relationship if she knew that.”

“You want her to leave me?”

Alex raised her hands in surrender at his sharp tone. “No. I don’t want her to leave you. I actually really like her, certainly more than the other idiot instagram girls you paraded around here as your girlfriends. She did what I thought nothing could… she turned you into a serious person. But… maybe you two do need a break until this Tasha person is willing to let you go. She might decide that protecting her name, her peace… her ability to move through life without a modern scarlet A on her chest is more important than whatever feelings, however strong, she has for you. And you… your directorial debut is out in March. We’re about to start a press run in a month. Award season starts next Sunday, for which you are a highly anticipated nominee. Any scandal detracts from the biggest moment of your career. Look, I’m not telling you to do anything. But I am saying, it’s the only path I see that doesn’t destroy you both. And if you love her as much as you say you do, you’d take the short term hit to save her. Or at least present it as an option.”

Michael heard everything she said and in his heart, he knew she was right. But what she was asking? His heart and soul would not allow him to do it.

“I can’t lose her, Alex. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me. I won’t lose her. I know Tash… she’s all bark, no bite. I give her some attention and throw some cash her way and this’ll all blow over.”

Alex sized him up for a few moments before shrugging. “Well I hope for Raven’s sake, and mine, you know what you’re doing.”

“I know what I’m doin’, Alex. I promise.” Michael knocked his knuckles against her desk before standing up to leave.

“Are you really that good at sex?” she mused, glancing at him up and down as if she was trying to imagine it for herself. “I just can’t imagine anyone, especially a man, is good enough in bed to warrant all this.”

“I know it ain’t your cup of tea,” he offered with a wink. “But what can I say? I’m blessed with hella talents.”

Alex rolled her eyes. “Alright, well get your hella talented ass outta my office.” However, before he left, she called out. “Oh! The Golden Globes… need to know if you’re taking Raven so they can finalize the sitting chart.”

Michael rolled his eyes. His least favorite part about his job: award season. An unbearable time of year made worse by the fact that he was nominated at every single one save the Tonys this year. He did not have the energy or desire to sit for hours on end, starving and be forced to smile and wave and pretend to be happy if he lost. But he knew the unbearable practice would be made a bit more bearable if Raven was by his side while he did it.

“Shit. All this shit goin’ on since New Years, forgot to ask her. Tell them she’s goin’. I just gotta get them to pull her a dress and shit. Thanks for the reminder.”

And with that, he started to walk out. As he reached his car, he pulled out his phone and texted Tasha to meet him at the St. Regis tomorrow night at 10. He was going to end this as soon as possible.

***

Michael paced the length of his hotel room, wearing a hole in the carpet as he went.

“This is a bad idea,” he mumbled to himself a couple of times. But this was the least of about 100 bad ideas in his mind and it was the only bad idea that protected his girlfriend’s peace. He knew Alex was right and it was wrong but he was determined to keep Raven as far from this situation as possible.

However, even he had to admit to himself that his reasoning was not just to protect her peace. He also did not want to admit that he had still had conversations with Tasha before they were official, that he had made promises to her and then broke them. Raven was one of the few people on this planet who saw him as a good person and he refused to ruin that image. Protecting Raven and, selfishly, how she looked at him was all that mattered to him. What people said about him in the media and on Twitter did not.

A soft knock on his door jolted him out of his thoughts and his limbs to move. He felt uncomfortable even meeting Tasha here but she had demanded their first meeting be in person. So here he was.

When he opened the door, Tasha leaned against the door frame with a triumphant smirk painted on her face. A year ago, he would have pulled her inside and tore her clothes off with lightning speed. But today? He had never been less attracted to someone in his life, less enthused to see someone.

“Hey baby.”

Her arms snaked around his broad shoulders as she leaned in for a kiss. A kiss that Michael artfully and skillfully dodged. He twisted out of her embrace and pulled her into his hotel room, sparing a quick glance down the long hotel hallway to ensure no prying eyes lurked before slamming the door shut.

“You don’t seem happy to see me, baby.”

Michael could hear the teasing in her voice, could tell she enjoyed whatever power trip she currently had over him.

“Why would I be happy to see someone blackmailin’ and threatenin’ me?” he mumbled just loud enough for her to hear him.

“Forcing you to follow through with the promises you made to me is hardly blackmail.” She sat down on the edge of the expansive bed and leaned back slightly on her hands.

Michael had hoped to keep this “meeting” as brief as possible. He did not want to be in a room with her for any longer than he needed to. He walked over to the bed and grabbed two envelopes he had sat on the bedside table. He tossed the thicker one, filled with cash, at her before walking across the room and leaning on the desk to watch her.

“Another $10k at your request. Now, tell me a number.”

“A number for what?” she asked innocently.

“A number big enough to get you to sign this,” he tossed another envelope at her. “Standard NDA and an agreement not to contact me or Raven again.”

Tasha let out a low humorless chuckle. “All this… for that basic nobody. You never did a fraction of this shit for me…” she mused as she unfolded the papers and read them silently.

Michael scoffed. “I did everything we agreed to. Flew you out, bought you more shit than I could count. The only thing Raven got that you didn’t was my heart and I’m not apologizin’ for that. What we had was business, Tash. And our business needs to end now. So what’s the number?”

Tasha stared at him for a few minutes before discarding them on the bed. “Fine. I’ll deal. $50k and one more night. The two of us. And I’ll sign them. That’s the price.”

“Not happenin’, name a number.”

Tasha merely shrugged. “Nope. You want me out of your life? That’s the price. Both things.”

“Why? Let’s cut the bullshit, Tash. You don’t love me, you don’t want me. You want my money. So name a higher number.”

“You’re absolutely right. I don’t love you… I’m not Raven, an idiot who falls for the first client I get. I love your money and the comfort it provides. But one thing I don’t like is disrespect. You dropped me out in the cold with no warning like two years of fucking you meant nothing. Like I meant nothing. So yea, maybe months ago, it would’ve just been about the money. But now, it’s about so much more than that.”

“So what? You blackmail me into fuckin’ you one more time and it proves what?”

Tasha laughed. “Doesn’t prove anything except that you ain’t shit, which I already knew. I don’t need proof of anything. See you and Raven were built on a lie and honestly, watching the two of you fall the fuck apart will bring me far more joy than a couple extra bucks. Fuck me and the guilt will eat that good boy you bury deep inside alive. Eventually, you’ll crack and Raven’ll find out. Or I dunno, maybe I’ll tell her. Either way, I could smell the insecurities on that girl from a mile away. She’ll never forgive you and your relationship falls apart. Don’t fuck me and I tell the world you did anyway and that she was a prostitute. And then your relationship definitely falls apart when her life gets ruined. Either way, I get cash, you end up alone and Raven learns what so many girls before also learned the hard way: don’t fuck with what’s mine. I was thinking of calling TMZ the week of the Oscars? That’ll sure spice up the biggest week of your career. Or maybe right before the Creed III premiere… any preference?” At his silence, she merely shrugged. “Well, just let me know. Feel free to keep booking this room for us until you decide. I always liked this view.”

As Michael watched her, he quickly realized how he wholly underestimated her in every possible way. This was not a woman who was willing to let him go. Ever. And both of his “choices” were specifically designed to hurt Raven. There was no scenario where she came out of it unscathed. And it was really all his fault. Had he simply cut Tasha off at the onset or been smarter about how he handled her, they would not be in this mess.

Michael stood and walked toward the door.

“I’ll call you to book our time next week. Maybe you’ll change your mind. Or maybe I’ll change my mind and call TMZ before then,” she called after him as Michael slammed the door behind them.

As he stood in the barren hotel hallway, he resisted the urge to punch a hole in the wall before his security whisked him away to the service elevator to take him outside to his car. He was thankful Alex had been willing to book the hotel under her name and credit card. He would not have considered it originally but after that conversation, he would not have put it past Tasha to add the hotel receipt to her arsenal of blackmail.

He slammed the door of his jeep with such force even Allen jumped slightly at the sound.

“My bad,” he mumbled as he slouched back into his seat. He could not remember the last time something had frustrated him to this degree. He was fucked. They were fucked. Tasha had him by the balls and he knew there was no move that would get him out of this mess without throwing Raven under the bus.

He refused to cheat on Raven. Not just because he knew it would just give Tasha another thing to hold over him but because that was simply not him. He played the role of the bad boy, terrible guy but the one line he had never crossed with a girlfriend in his life was to cheat on her. He knew that pain intimately and he vowed to never inflict it on someone else. He had never even been tempted to cheat. And Raven would certainly not be the woman he broke that vow on.

And because he knew he would never sleep with Tasha or any woman who was not Raven again, there was no end to this in sight. He would just have to sit and wait for her to lob a grenade and blow up his girlfriend’s life. And that made him feel like more of a failure than any flopped movie or failed deal ever had. He was supposed to be the one person in her life that protected her and he had failed her, just like everyone else.

“Bad night, Mr. Jordan?” Allen called from the front seat.

“Somethin’ like that.” He sighed. “Fucked up and not sure it’s fixable.”

Allen glanced back in the rearview mirror and nodded. “Is it not fixable or do you just not like the consequences of fixing it?”

Michael bowed his head. He adored Allen but lately, he hated him and his meddling, correct but unsolicited advice. However, he would never say that to him.

“Mixture of both. Really just no way to fix it that doesn’t hurt someone I love.”

“Raven?”

“That transparent, huh?”

Allen smiled to himself. “You always were, sir. If all the answers hurt her, then you have to decide which path causes the least harm to her. And then you just hope she forgives you when it’s over. That’s all you can do. Or you find another path that doesn’t.”

Michael’s head thudded against his seat’s headrest. He knew Allen was right, just as Alex had been. There was no fixing this situation, no silver bullet that would solve all of their problems and save Raven’s reputation in the process. All roads led to the same destination: the world finding out he and Raven lied. But there was one path that bypassed Tasha, put more of the media focus on him and his terrible decisions, and allowed him to control the when, where, and how of it all. And it did not hurt that this particular path would also allow him to hold Tasha accountable for all her shit in the process.

“Thanks, Allen.”

He pulled his phone out of his pocket and found Alex’s number. It was late but she was, thankfully, just as much of a night owl as he was.

“Finish your date with your favorite extortionist?” Alex joked as she picked up the phone. He could hear her munching on something as she spoke, likely popcorn.

“You always got jokes. Listen… I think you were right earlier. Let’s control the narrative.”

He could hear her shifting around as if she were sitting up at his words. “Ok, I’m intrigued. Raven? You gonna ask her what she thinks?”

He shook his head. “Nah. If we do it right, she never needs to know.”

***

It was after midnight by the time Michael arrived back home. However, he and Alex had worked out a foolproof plan during the drive. A plan they felt would allow Michael to take the biggest hit while Raven’s name would be a mere footnote by any reporter who doesn’t want to be accused of misogyny. It did all hinge on Tasha dragging out her games for longer than a week. But Michael had a feeling she would. She clearly enjoyed watching him squirm. They’d get past the Golden Globes and then he would seek help from someone whose only motivation in this world was money, someone who - for the right price - would do exactly what he asked.

He said a quick goodnight to Allen before running up the stairs to his master bedroom. He was surprised to find Raven curled up on his side of the bed, her face buried in his pillow. Her preferred sleeping position was literally on top of him and he knew, when he wasn’t home, this was the best she could get.

He laughed lightly at her kindle which was half hanging out of her hand, the young woman clearly having fallen asleep reading. She had not even put her scarf on the giant pineapple of curls on her head or taken off her reading glasses, which told him she had tried her hardest to stay awake till he got home. He watched her, like a creep admittedly, for several minutes before he moved.

He had never felt love like this a day in his life. He had always accepted that he would never find it, never find someone who could and would love him unconditionally. But she did, she loved him even though he was not sure he deserved it. And everytime she looked at him, touched him, curled into his side to sleep, he felt the depths of it in his very being. Their love was pure and he refused to let anyone taint it.

He moved as quietly as possible to the bed and took the kindle out of her hand and slid her glasses off. Thankfully, she slept like a rock. However, she only stirred as he tried to gently tie her scarf around her edges to protect her hair. She stretched and let out a deep but insanely cute yawn as she blinked a few times.

“H-Hey babe. S-sorry, I tried to wait for you.”

Michael leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean to wake you. Just knew you’d be pissed if you woke up with no scarf on.”

She chuckled. “You’re right about that. H-How was your dinner meeting?”

“Fine,” he waved his hand dismissively. He hated that he had lied to her but it was the only excuse he could think of that did not bring more questions. Raven was generally inquisitive but she tended to understand the often secret nature of some roles and Hollywood meetings so she did not often pry for information he did not offer up. “Might have a role for me but shit is still in flux. We’ll probably need to meet again to iron out some details.”

She nodded as she forced herself into a seated position. “I’ll never understand you Hollywood types. Who wants to have a dinner meeting at 10 pm?”

“Logistics are easier for later dinners. It’s a whole thing.” He rolled his shoulders a bit, the tension of the day making his entire body ache.

“You ok? You seem so tense, baby.”

He studied her for a moment, taking in the genuine care on her face. So few people looked at him like that, like a human with needs and feelings. They just saw him as a product to sell or an ATM to get their needs met. But not Raven, never Raven. Even when he was quite literally paying her to be there. She saw him for him. And in that moment, he realized how close he was to losing that, how at risk this precious peace they both had found was. And that terrified him. Losing her terrified him. And he knew that whatever path he chose, that was the risk. And that filled him with such an overwhelming sense of dread.

He rarely felt overwhelmed by his own feelings. But right then, he felt like he could not even think straight enough to answer that simple question. And he knew that simple question was his out, his chance to tell her the truth about what tension he was feeling and why.

So instead of speaking, he used his impeccable strength to pull her into his lap. Her fingers played in the coarse hair of his beard as he stared at her, concern filling her eyes as she took in the solemn and stressed look in his.

“Hey… baby… what’s wrong?”

“N-Nothin’. Nothin’,” he lied, his courage deflating like a popped balloon. As soon as the words left his mouth, his lips crashed into hers, stealing her breath right out of her mouth. He could not talk, could not have a conversation. He just needed to feel her, all of her.

He could not bring himself to do it, to ask her for her permission to do what he knew had to be done. All roads led to the same destination and this was the only one he could see that left them with the least amount of bruises. He did not have the heart to tell her that the only path forward for them was to destroy her reputation now or have Tasha do it later. He did not have the heart to tell her he failed her, that he could not protect her from this.

Raven could feel everything in that kiss, his own stress and tension and pain. She wondered if more had gone on tonight at his meeting than he was willing to let on. Typically, Michael was the emotional rock, holding her up and giving her space to fall apart. But tonight, she was reminded that sometimes the strong ones need that too.

She broke off their kiss to catch her breath before whispering, “Take what you need.”

Michael rested his forehead against hers. “You sure?”

“Consider me your stress ball,” she joked with a half smile. “Do your worst. I trust you.”

Trust you don’t deserve, a cold voice inside hurled at him.

Michael said nothing as he flipped Raven over onto her stomach. There was no love or sweetness in the way he handled her as he arranged her lethargic limbs in the position he desired, ass high and face pressed into his comforter. He did not give her any warning as he sheathed himself inside her with one thrust, Raven squealing at the sudden and rough intrusion.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” she moaned as he bottomed out inside her. She did not understand how his size and girth still managed to leave her breathless.

“You always this wet for me, baby?”

“Y-Yes,” she whimpered as he gave her a brief moment to adjust to him.

“Yes what?” he demanded with a sharp and painful slap against her plump ass. “Yes daddy,” she amended quickly. She could already tell she would be bruised and sore by the time he was done with her. But she could not hope to care. Whatever he needed, she would gladly give.

They rarely did quickies, Michael enjoyed the warm up far too much to skip it. But tonight, he needed the adrenaline of rough, uninhibited fucking. He needed to hear her screams, the slaps of his hips against her ass. Needed to feel the soft skin of her hips beneath his hand as he rammed into her. He needed to let go of the stress of the last 48 hours with the woman he loved, let go of the feelings of objective failure he felt. He needed to get lost in her.

Raven was in pure bliss as Michael fucked her at a pace and intensity she had rarely seen from him. She could not even keep up with him to match his thrusts into her. All she could do was lay there and scream out as he took her.

“Shit, shit. J-just like that,” she moaned as his hands dug into her skin. Her fingers curled around the softness of his comforter as she used it to muffle the screams of her orgasm.

“Fuck, this pussy feels so good gripping my dick, baby. That’s right, cum for daddy.”

Her body instinctively shied away from the overwhelming feelings of pleasure and pain he provided, causing his grip to only grow tighter so she could not escape him, as if she would disappear right before his eyes if he loosened his grip on her at all.

“The fuck you runnin’ for?? You said do my worst right? So take this dick!” His voice was commanding as he spanked her, the sound reverberating around his bedroom.

“I-It’s too m-much,” she moaned out as she felt another orgasm start to build.

“You can take it. I know you can. Be a good girl for me.”

Hearing the words “good girl” on his lips were almost enough to make her orgasm right then on the spot.

Her upper body collapsed as another orgasm hit her like a train of endless ecstasy. Only Michael’s brute strength held her up as he chased his own release. Her body felt like putty in his hands, completely pliant and under his control.

“You gonna cum again for me, baby?” he demanded.

Raven felt as if he was fucking her into another dimension, was she even on Earth anymore? She could barely form thoughts let alone words to answer his questions. And as the silence stretched on and only her moans and squeals punctuated the sound of his thrusts, Michael knew she needed an incentive to remember the rules.

He wrapped his fist in her hair, which had unceremoniously fallen out of her scarf and pulled her up so her back was flush against his body. He wrapped his hand around her throat and squeezed lightly, loving how Raven’s eyes rolled back into her head and a long moan escaped her. He noticed the tear tracks on her cheeks and almost wondered if he was pushing her too far.

“Need me to stop?” he asked quietly, not slowing down his pace or movement as he asked.

Despite how overwhelmed and exhausted she felt, Raven could not comprehend the idea of him stopping. She had offered him this and she wanted it too. “D-don’t stop… p-please don’t stop.”

“Ok then. When daddy asks you somethin’, you fuckin’ answer!”

He let her body fall forward before he started spanking her with every ounce of strength he had. The pain radiated through her entire body but it was a delicious hurt, one she wished she could have all the time. Michael’s spankings were one of her favorite parts of their sex life. But now she knew that he was holding back some of his strength on her account. And she did not want that ever again. If this was him totally uninhibited and unrestrained, she would be his stress ball every day of the week.

She shook her head as tears slowly trekked down her face. “I-I c-can’t…”

Whether that was to convey that she could not speak or couldn’t come again, Michael did not know nor did not care. Until he heard a safeword cross her lips, he would drain them both of everything they collectively had.

“Yea, you can. Cause daddy demands it.”

His fingers found their way to her clit and roughly circled it, Raven’s entire body tensing as she reached her peak for the third time. He thanked the good lord he had had the forethought to soundproof his bedroom when he built this house years ago. That way he nor his parents had to be scarred for life. But even he wondered if her screams of pleasure would test the limits of that particular design feature.

However, they were the perfect symphony that pushed him right over the edge. He increased his pace, as if that were possible, hammering into her before he pressed her hips tightly against his form as he came inside her with a loud moan of his own. He collapsed next to her prone form for a moment as he tried to catch his breath.

He ran his hand through her hair, the young woman letting out a soft, appreciative whimper that acknowledged his touch and gentleness but let him know she was utterly spent.

He pushed himself out of bed and started a bath, adding some epsom salt to the water in hopes that would soothe whatever aches he caused. He returned to his bed and rubbed her back to get her attention.

“Bath,” he whispered, before he scooped her up into his arms as if she were a small child. He carried her into the bathroom and quickly redid her hair and scarf before settling her into the tub.

A moan slipped past her lips as the hot water surrounded her limbs. Michael positioned himself behind her, his arm pressed into her breasts to keep her flush to his chest.

“Was I too rough?”

Her heart warmed at the question. She would not have offered her body to him if she had not wanted rough but she appreciated that he still cared enough about her to check in, during and after.

“No, I love it when you get lost in it. But you’re sure you’re ok?”

“Yea… think the stress of the awards and the press tour next month are just getting to me. I’m good, babe.” A cop out but it was all he could offer.

Though it was difficult to get her limbs to move properly, she shifted so she could turn around and look at him. She chewed on her lip for a moment before saying, “You’d tell me if… something was wrong, right? Like you’re always there for me and my problems, listening and fixing. A-and well… I know I can’t like fix whatever it is or anything or probably even understand it. But I hope you know you can trust me with stuff. I just d-don’t want you to think you can’t… if you ever need to o-or - ”

Michael leaned forward and captured her lips, silencing the sweet ramblings his girl was known for.

“Yea I know, baby.”

He felt her entire body sort of deflate with relief before she settled back against his chest.

“Good. I’m glad.”

They sat in silence as Michael’s hands slowly and methodically massaged her body, starting at her shoulders and working their way down at a deliciously slow but tantalizing pace. He took his time, kneading each of her muscles until the ache she felt subsided. His hands were massaging her thighs, which was doing more to work her up than calm her down, when Michael

“Be my date on Sunday.” He kissed her on the neck.

“Sunday? What’s on Sunday?” she asked, not even opening her eyes as she enjoyed the work of the Lord Almighty he was doing on her thighs.

“The Globes.”

Raven immediately pushed off of his chest in shock. An award show? Those glittery and glamorous programs she had watched as a kid?

What’s my fucking life right now?? She asked herself as it hit her, for the first time, that things like this would be a regular occurrence now that she and Michael were serious. This was the big leagues and she was going to be standing right beside him.

“The Globes… as in THE Golden Globes?? You’re kidding right?”

He laughed at the look of utter shock on her face. “Yes, those Globes. And nah, why would I joke about that shit? I want the sexiest woman in the world on my arm when I win.”

Michael did not want to be ruled by fear of when Tasha would lob her grenade at them, if she even had the chance. They deserved to just have a fun and extravagant night out together. This would be the biggest night of his career and if their names were going to be thrown into a scandal either way, he could at least enjoy a night out with Raven before it does.

Raven shook her head, though her heart and childish brain screamed at her for doing so. Why was she pushing back? Every fiber of her being just wanted her to yell “YES, YES, YES!”

“B-But what about your parents?? Maybe you should take one of them o-or your siblings? I mean I’d love to go. Like seriously THE Golden Globes with like every entertainer I adore and love? But this is such a big moment in your career. Don’t you want to spend it with… I dunno, the people who’ve been there for the ride? I just got here,” she chuckled. “Don’t ask me out of some obligation. If there’s someone else you’d prefer, I won’t be offended. I didn’t expect an invite to all these anyway, you know? Figured you take family or your friends or someone more important to you… What if you look back and regret not taking one of them? You should -”

“Babe!” he cut her off, his palm cradling her cheek to keep her gaze on him.. “You said all that in one breath. Breathe for me, baby girl.” Raven appreciated that he could always see when she was spiraling and stop it. She forced air into her lungs before nodding for him to speak. “My family’s been to hella award shows, they’ve seen as many of them as a single person could ever want to. But even if they hadn’t, you’re the most important person to me right now. So I want to look out if I win and see you there. You are the most important person in my life.”

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t, promise.”

“Then yes. I’d love to.” She turned fully and straddled his hips, kissing him deeply. Her hips instinctively grinded against him, a smile gracing her features as she felt his cock start to grow hard beneath him. She did not care that he fucked her into near oblivion a mere 10 minutes ago. Just him offering to take her to the biggest award show of his career to date filled her with such joy and happiness. And now, she had no interest in going to sleep. Now? She just needed more. More of him and his love, attention, and care.

“Not too sore, baby girl?” he asked as he pulled one of her nipples in between his lips and sucked gently before biting the swell of her breast, Raven’s head falling back with a small cry.

“Never… I need you,” she whispered in his ear as she sucked on the soft skin of his neck. “Please.”

“Get up here and ride daddy’s dick.”

Raven did not need to be told twice as she positioned herself over him and slid down.

“Enjoy it cause then it’s my turn again.” He winked at her with the most wicked glint in his eyes that let Raven know she would not sleep for hours.

***

“So how does it feel? Mr. Golden Globe winner??” Raven asked for the 100th time as she and Michael walked back into the condo. The condo was really only used now when they were at events super late. And staying out until 3 am meant neither of them were all too interested in making the trek back to his home.

Michael chuckled, “The same way it felt 10 minutes ago, Rae.”

She gave herself a playful facepalm. “I’m sorry, I’m being annoying. I’m just so excited for you! I mean tonight was amazing and magical and you were amazing and everyone was literally singing your praises. And I’m just…” she turned and wrapped her arms around his broad shoulders. “I’m really proud of you. No one deserves this moment more.”

“Thank you. It was even better with you by my side.”

Raven let out a childlike squeal as Michael picked her up in his arms, her after party dress bunched up in his hands. However, before she could tell him to be careful of the fabric, he merely smirked. “It’ll be on the floor in a minute. Don’t worry bout that shit.”

She merely rolled her eyes as he playfully tossed her onto his bed and launched himself on top of her. She let out a loud oof as his weight pushed her deeper into the bed and laughed.

She moaned as he kissed her before she had to stop him for a brief moment. As much as she loved being glammed up by his team, she could not deny that the full glam and fake lashes they put on her were not as comfortable almost 10 hours later.

“Let me hang up the dress and wash my face before you ravish me? These lashes are killing me and it’s gonna take me a few minutes to peel these spanx off.”

He seemed wholly uninterested in letting her do any of those things until the phone in his pants started to ring. He knew only one person who dared to call him this late. The disgruntled huff he pushed out made her cackle but he rolled off of her, allowing her to get up.

“Fine, I’ll allow it. But only cause Alex would only call this late if it was important.”

As he answered the phone, she disappeared into the guest room where all of her clothes were stored. She made quick work of stripping down to her panties and ensuring her dress was stowed properly in its garment bag. It had been a delicate yet gorgeous gown and she had not trusted Michael not to accidentally destroy it in his quest to get it off her. She knew he could afford to pay for it but she did not even want to know how much a Valentino dress would set him back.

She joyfully ripped the fake lashes on her eyes off before washing her face several times to get off all the makeup she had on. She looked stunning, as she always did when his glam team got a hold of her. But she also would rather do this tedious task now than in a few hours when Michael was done with her.

She thought about slipping into some lingerie as she pulled off her nipple covers. But she figured it would take more time than necessary to put any of it on and Michael would likely just rip it off her within seconds. So she made her way back to his room nearly naked with just her thong on.

However, when she returned, Michael’s mood was far more subdued than when she left. She raised an eyebrow as she straddled his hips, his hands barely touching her hips, a departure from his usual grip on her.

“Everything ok?”

“That was Alex. We… got a problem.”

“Ok?”

He rubbed her lower back as he spoke as if that would calm her for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “She got a call from TMZ that they have a source… that told them about us. How we met and… that we lied to everyone about it. And they are gonna run it sometime tomorrow.”

Raven scratched her forehead, the joy she felt moments ago dissipating almost immediately.

This can’t be happening…

“W-what?? B-But… N-No, no. She’s… I-is she sure?”

“Baby, calm down. It’s gonna be ok. Apparently, the angle he took was favorable to you? It doesn’t shame you or anything. It’s just honest about the circumstances of how we met.”

Raven felt as if her whole world had just come falling down around her as she leapt off his lap. “It’s favorable to me?? That’s a super small comfort w-when you just told me that the entire world is about to find out I was a prostitute, Michael! C-Cause no one’s gonna care that you were date number like 3 in a series of failed dates o-or that you were the first guy to even pay me for sex. They’re just gonna care that I did it. This reporter doesn’t need to shame me when the whole fucking world will.” She paced up and down beside his bed as she tried to will her panic to subside. “I-Is there anyway to stop it?? W-why is this even happening?? I mean it’s been months. Who would even care enough to c-come out and say something now??”

Michael stood and grabbed her by the arm, he pulled her into his embrace but he knew it would do little to soothe her. “It could’ve been anyone? Employee at the hotel, someone who works for Helen. Alex is trying to find out who and more about the story so we can figure out what to do. And this person probably realized that now, with award season and Creed, would be the most profitable time to release shit about me. I’m sorry, Rae. I should’ve seen this comin’. It’s my fault.”

The clear guilt in his voice cut through the haze of panic she felt and caused her to stop thinking about herself for a moment.

Fuck, how selfish are you? A story like this could potentially ruin his career and all she could think about was how it affected her. Michael could lose work and deals and prestige because of a story like this. What did she have to lose? A family that already hated her and she had cut off? A reputation that, at least in the industry she was once in, was already tarnished?

“No, d-don’t apologize. I'm sorry. I’m over here freaking out and you’re the one with an actual career to lose. I just… I guess when it didn’t come out initially, I assumed it wouldn’t? A-and I just… freaked out. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t make it all about me.”

“It’s cool. And ok to be upset. I’m used to shit like this… you aren’t. Good thing is, shit like this stays in the news for a few days and then it passes. Alex and I’ll work on a plan tomorrow once it’s out and fix this shit. I promise.”

All Raven could make herself do was nod as she let her forehead fall onto his bare chest, a sudden wave of exhaustion hitting her. Even with Michael, there was always something. There was no true peace in her life, or least, none that lasted long enough for her to enjoy it.

An uncomfortable tightness grew in her chest as she realized what was barreling toward them both. And for the first time in a long time, Michael’s arms did not bring her the comfort she needed. In fact, they only added to her stress. She wanted to be with him but she also knew that her presence would be a distraction. He had to figure out the best response for his career without feeling the need to cater to her emotions and she wanted to break down and cry and scream without being worried he would feel guilty.

Which meant she could not be there with him when this story broke. She needed space and alone time to process this.

“Do you think Allen could take me home?” she whispered. “I n-need to be alone.”

“Rae, stay. We should talk about this.”

She could see the panic bloom in his eyes and it made her adjust her statement. “I’m not m-mad at you, baby. You don’t have control over who talks to the media and when. I know you would stop it if you could. I just… knowing it’s coming out is a lot to process and I need to do that alone in my own space. And you need to be focused on your career, not me and my feelings. I’ll check in with you tomorrow but I d-don’t want to talk tonight. I just want to be alone.”

Michael pressed his lips to her forehead before walking over to his dresser and pulling out a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt that she had stored there. He helped her get dressed before calling Allen to come back to take her home. He knew she was not upset with him but he could not help but feel disheartened at how she retreated into herself. He could see all the emotions she felt painted on her face and that made him want to demand she stay so he could help her through it.

But he knew that was not fair. If she said she needed space, he had to respect that. The reason she was feeling this way was his fault anyway.

“You’re sure you’re gonna be ok? I can come with you?” He tried one last time when Allen texted that he was downstairs.

“Positive. Just need a couple hours to myself to get my head around everything. I’ll come to the house tomorrow evening after it's out and we can talk. Just give me a few hours, please.”

He nodded, silently acquiescing to her wishes, despite every piece of him wanting to protest.

Raven offered him a peck on the lips before heading down in the elevator, desperate to scream or yell or throw something across the room. She supposed she always knew there was a chance it could come out. After all, there were a handful of people that knew the truth. But she had just lulled herself into believing it wouldn’t, that their peace would be safe.

Her head felt like it was spinning when she finally laid down an hour later in her own bed. She had only taken the time to switch into one of Michael’s sweatshirts that she had commandeered from his house so she could curl up in his scent. She wrapped herself tightly in her blanket and let out a shuddering and shaky breath.

He’s gonna leave you. A voice finally said the fear that gripped her since he told her the news. She had not wanted to admit it but she knew it was coming. He was going to leave her.

How could he possibly stay? Why would he want to stay? His entire team would demand he cut ties with her. There was no other option. She knew it and he likely knew it too. His safest bet was likely to paint her as a woman who manipulated him or a gold digger after his money. She spent enough time on social media to know what the media and everyday people would say about her. They’d call her a slut and a whore, never mind that she was only doing what she had to do to survive. That would not matter to them. And then the dogpilling would begin. Some internet detective would find out she was also a stripper and this would give her sister the perfect chance to shame her like she always wanted to.

‘There are always other options than selling yourself’ they’d say. They’d question his manhood for even wanting to be with her in the first place. And it would not matter that prostitution was the oldest profession in civilization or that Michael was her first real customer. Her doing it with him would be enough for them to brand her with every terrible name women avoid being labeled.

She hastily wiped away the few tears that fell as she stared at her ceiling. These would be her last few moments of peace in her life and she realized that tonight was likely her last night with Michael. She felt her heart break at the idea. However, she would walk away, she realized. If that was what it took to save him and his career and this moment in his life, she would walk away from him. It would cut her deeper than any wound but she would do it for him if he asked.

And now, every second felt like a countdown to that moment. When she would arrive at his house tomorrow afternoon and be greeted with the cold slap of rejection. She would just have to prepare herself.

She reached into her nightstand and pulled out a bottle of old sleeping pills she used to use when she first lost her writing contract. She had struggled so much that her doctor prescribed them. It had been almost a year since she needed them but tonight was an exception. She just wanted to fall into the deep, dreamless sleep they provided so she would not have to sit awake and think about how everything in this world was designed to destroy her. She popped one in her mouth and snuggled up with her pillow while her tears fell, the protective blanket of sleep covering her within minutes.

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***

A/N: Welp... Michael's keeping secrets, Tasha is smarter (kinda, maybe?) than Michael thought and poor Raven's completely in the dark. Drop a comment and let me know who you think this "source" is and how you think these two are going to react to the article! And so exciting - chapter 9 is like 1/3 done lol so it'll be out in the next two weeks. Would be sooner but I'm on vacation next week. Thanks for reading, commenting, liking... all the things! :)

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #black panther #michael b jordan x reader #michael b jordan fanfic #creed 3 #adonis creed #creed iii

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fannyspammy · 2 years ago

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Indestructable

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: Adam tells y/n he loves her for the first time

Warnings: none! starts a little heated but then becomes just a lot of fluffy fluff fluff

A/N: sixth part to the Firsts series! Another fluffy piece before I get back into the spicy stuff :) If you haven’t read the previous parts yet, my masterlist is here! (Can be read as a oneshot tho!) Also, to those who have made requests, I have seen them & will be working on them ASAP! :)

Taglist: @spderm4nnnn @nocturnest @joeysjaskier

[not my gif]

“Are you insane?!” Adam yelled at y/n. She was surprised at first — he’d never yelled at her before — but her shock was quickly replaced by anger.

“Me?! What about you! I had it under control, but you almost got yourself killed!” She shouted back.

Adam crossed his arms across his chest, his muscles taunting her as he did. “No, you almost got yourself killed. I’m practically indestructible.”

“Adam, I’m fine! But you had to go and get yourself hurt!” She gestured toward the gash across his side. It was big and bleeding, but Adam seemed barely affected — maybe because or the way he was engineered, or maybe because his anger was masking the pain.

“Only because I saved you! But what if I hadn’t been there, y/n? What if I didn’t see that knife hurtling toward you?”

“Well then.. I-”

“Then you would’ve gotten hurt! This is just a scratch for me, but for you this could’ve been fatal. So just stop arguing with me! You know I’m right. God, you’re lucky I love you or I might not have been paying attention. Hell, if that was Groot or someone else I would’ve been too focused on the guy that was shooting at me to have even-”

“Wait, stop.”

“What?”

Y/n pulled him into a kiss, her grimy hands tangling into his golden head of hair. Adam’s fury immediately dissipated into bliss, and he bore a confused smile on his face as she pulled away, his eyes searching hers.

“What was that for?”

She smiled at him smugly. “You said you love me, you idiot.”

His golden hue began to bronze as he blushed. “I-I did?”

“Mhmm.”

Adam stuttered, unsure of what to say next. “Oh- well I- I guess- I mean I just-”

Y/n brushed a strand of hair from his face, amusement playing on her lips as she teased him, her mouth hovering centimetres above his as she looked up at him through hooded eyes. “Say it again.”

Adam swallowed, nervous now that he was aware of what he said. He may be practically indestructible, but with her? He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, in a way that challenged him more than any foe he’d ever faced in the battlefield. But the nervousness melted away as he looked into the eyes of the woman before him, not a hint of hesitation in his mind or his heart.

“I love you, y/n,” he said softly, and as she smiled her beautiful smile, he was never so sure of his words.

“I’m sorry,” Adam continued. “I don’t like being angry at you. I don’t like yelling at you. I don’t like how it makes me feel.. but I also don’t like how almost losing you makes me feel. The thought of.. of this… the thought of never seeing you smile at me again.. I get scared.”

“Hey, shh, it’s okay.” Y/n placed a hand on his cheek and tiptoed to kiss his forehead gently. “You’re not gonna lose me, okay?”

She took his hands in hers and leaned in so she could place a peck on his lips. “I love you, Adam.” He stayed quiet but she saw his eyes light up at her words. “And that is indestructible. Thank you for rescuing me, but you don’t need to worry so much, okay love? I’ve been doing this a long time- I’ll be okay.”

He pulled her into a hug and nodded against her neck before kissing it, hastily peppering his affection over every inch of skin available to him — her neck, her collarbone, her jaw, her hands — and she giggled at his eagerness.

“Ahem.”

The couple turned to see Rocket standing a few feet away, arms crossed and brows furrowed. Drax and the other Guardians lingered a few feet behind, and that’s when they realized their entire moment had an audience. The raccoon’s face said disgust, but the two could read the amusement in his eyes.

“If you two lovebirds are done sucking face, smashing booty, et cetera, we got a few hostages to deliver. Think you can keep it in your pants long enough for that?”

Adam and y/n looked at each other and then back at Rocket.

“Aye aye Captain!” They said with a mock salute, followed by childish giggles. The raccoon rolled his eyes as he turned around and the crew followed.

#gotg 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #adam warlock #gotg v3 #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol 3 #marvel #mcu #gotg #will poulter #adam warlock x reader #adam warlock smut #adam warlock imagine #will poulter smut #will poulter imagine #will poulter x reader #gotg imagine

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dakotalun · 7 months ago

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What Now? | Eddie Munson

pairing: Eddie Munson X Fem Reader

summary: PART 5- You finally tell Eddie about your past. And it's not pretty, cause it never is.

warnings: talk of cheating, mentions SA

word count: 1.2k

a/n: tears for Y/N!

*******NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS*******

I sniffle a bit more before I pull away and look at my friend. His face is soft with a hint of fear behind his eyes and I honestly can’t blame him, I probably sounded like I was getting murdered just now.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. You can’t control that, it’s not your fault,” He reaches his hand up towards my face but I flinch backwards. His eyes go wide for a second before slowly trying again, this time I don’t pull back and allow him to wipe away the tears from my face.

“I’m guessing these happen often?” His voice is quiet, as if speaking over a certain octave will trigger me again. I only nod. “Is it the same every time?”

“Not always. But a lot of the time.”

“You want to talk about it? I know it’s easier to talk about dreams and nightmares to allow your brain to discern reality from dream.”

I just look at him as he lets his hands fall from my face into his lap. I want to know why he knows this but I don’t want to pry or overstep at all, so I don’t ask. I scoot back on the couch and pull my knees to my chest, building a wall around me.

“They started about a year and a half ago,” Eddie shifts his position and listens intently to my words, “My ex had broken up with me a few months earlier and I got depressed one night and looked him up on Facebook, just to see if he updated it at all. It was a stupid thing to do.”

As I say this he places his hand on my ankle, just to let me know that it’s okay and he’s there for me. “As I searched his page I saw that he was in a relationship, I was a little hurt at how fast he had moved on but my curiosity was piqued now so I went to her page, but there wasn’t much there. She had a unique name so I went to Instagram to try and see if I could find anything else about her and subsequently, him.”

I pause for a second to assess Eddie’s expression although it’s neutral, with no sign of emotion. I gulp a few times and he seems to notice this and grabs my tea from the table, handing it to me.

“Thanks,” I take a sip before continuing, “So I found her account and it’s private so I can’t get any more info from it and was about to just give up and go to sleep when I noticed that in her bio it says she’s married and she tagged a profile. Same name as my ex and the date of the wedding, October 3rd.”

“So he got married to this other girl while in, where?”

“Indiana.”

“Right, but broke up with you two days later? So were you the person he was cheating with or the one he was cheating on?”

“That’s the question I’ve been trying to figure out since I found out about him being married.” I finish off my tea and reach to set it back down but Eddie takes it from me and heads to the kitchen.

“Okay. So these nightmares are about him cheating on you?”

I raise my eyebrows at his question, surprised that they aren’t, “Actually no. They’re about the moment I fell in love with him.”

“What about the other name you kept saying, uh Sarah?”

“Right, her. Well she was the first person I ‘got with’ after Quinton and she was in college I was still in high school, she was so cool and experienced and I just wanted to get it over with.”

“Get what over with?” I cringe at the fact that he’s going to make me say it so I instead just look at him like, come on you know. He finally gets it, “Oh.”

He sits there for a minute thinking before he face shows confusion, “But wait, didn’t you say you were virgin, like you’ve never even made out with anyone?”

“Yeah I did. Because I didn’t want to do those things with her. I mean past me thought they did but afterwards I felt, violated in a way. I don’t know, I just don’t think that I was really ready I just wanted to be like everyone else. I wanted to feel normal for once.” I don’t say anything else after that, the memories being too much to handle especially after reliving them in the worst way ever.

“I get that, is there anything I can do to help? I mean like do you want more tea or some water?”

“I honestly don’t know. I don’t normally get them around others, at least not that they notice.” My roommates all wear headphones to sleep and I never stay with Jamie for more than a few days and even then I haven’t had one this bad in a while. Honestly since December.

“What does- or shit did Jamie do to help you through them?” He has two water bottles in his hand as he sits back down in front of me, opening one and handing it to me. As I accept and take a sip he opens his and downs about ⅓ of it in one go.

“Well to be honest, I never really had nightmares around them. We’d sleep in a small bed and so we were forced to cuddle and I guess just knowing that they were there and they weren’t him I wasn’t susceptible to the nightmares.”

“What about your friends and roommates?”

I shake my head, “Even with them if I did have one it wasn’t like this, I would just wake up maybe in paralysis but it’d stop in a minute or two, I haven’t woken another person with it before. Sorry”

“Shut-” He takes a deep breath before continuing, “You don’t have to aplogize, you don’t do it on purpose, plus I shouldn’t sleep on the couch anymore than I already do,” He rubs the back of his neck.

“Thanks for being concerned about me but you should sleep, I’ll be fine out here.”

“Or you could,” He averts his gaze, looking out onto the water, “You could sleep in my bed. With me.”

My eyes go wide. Is Eddie seriously offering for me to sleep in his bed…with him! Clearly just as friends but still… “I, uh,”

“It just seems like you sleep better knowing someone is there with you. Like the nightmares are nonexistent. I was just offering because I care about you and don’t want you to scream bloody murder again.” He’s rambling and it’s cute.

“Eddie,” I rest my hand on his, the one resting on his thigh, “It’s okay. I’m fine on the couch, plus I’m going home tomorrow so it’s only a few more hours.”

“But what if you have another one? I can’t get to you as quickly.”

“Because it’s not your job to help me through them, I’ve lived with them on my own for this long. One more night won’t kill me.”

“It could,” He mumbles. I pick up a nearby pillow and hit him with it.

I roll my eyes at him, “I’m fine, go to sleep.”

“Not unless you join me,” He defiantly crosses his arms.

“Ugh you are impossible you know that?” I say tossing the blanket I had over my legs off to the side.

“I do, my uncle tells me that every day,” He follows me as we head to his bedroom around the corner.

Taglist: @ali-r3n @dixontardis @witchwolflea @micheledawn1975 @daydreaming-mood @idfwfeelings @adaydreamaway08 @preciousbumplingbee @rustboxstarr @plk-18 @teary-eyed-egg @needylilgal022 @exploding-bonbon @gagasbee @eddiemunsonsguitarpic @aol19 @thatwitchyoucouldntburn @meanlilbean @sonnyahngel @corrodedcass @pigwidgeonxo @marsmunson86 @lottie-90 @figmentofquinn @sareim123122 @eddies-puppet @gvf23 @kennedy-brooke @rocklees-wife @emma77645 @cherris-n-peaches @breehumbles @joequinn-love @anyoddthoughts @aysheashea @eddiesskittle @uncxmfxrtablex @cherrymedicine13 @mrsjellymunson @shotgunhallelujah @bambipowerblueaddition @hexqueensupreme @josephquinnsfreckles @harrysgothicbitch @paleidiot @smurfflynn @lilyungpeanut @selena-rocker27

#eddie stranger things #munson #eddie munson #eddie my love #eddie my beloved #female reader #oneshot #smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things 4 #st4 #stranger things season 4 #eddie x reader

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1-have-no-idea · 7 months ago

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Cold hands and a hot drink

(Gif not mine :))

First meet with Echo!

AN: This is a college AU! I did not create it whatsoever, credit goes to the creators of the college AU, I just decided to write this because like, why not 🤷‍♀️, also, I’ve made multiple parts for different characters (ex: Hunter, Fives, Wrecker, Tup, Dogma, etc…) reader also works as a barista and does extra clubs like Martial Arts ☺️

Character(s): Echo, reader, brief mentions of Fives, brief mention of Yoda, two unnamed background characters

Genre: I honestly don’t really know what to call this, fluff maybe (?) It’s just a nice, first-meet with our baby Echo

Overview: It’s freezing outside, and Echo already has naturally cold hands (hand.). Now they straight up feel dead. And you know what makes cold days even better? Going to a cafe. Of course some random prick has to pick on him though. Luckily for him, an absolute angel comes to his rescue (AHEM, AHEM, you, AHEM-)

Warning(s): Echo gets bullied for his cybernetics 😔, shy baby Echo, Echo swooning over reader, Echo refers reader as ‘angel’, nothing really bad

1096 words (I KNOW IT’S SO SHORT, I’M SORRY, I CURRENTLY HAVE A LONG STORY COOKING UP, I PROMISE—)

———————————————————————————

Wow. The start of college. It’s been a few months, and you felt proud of herself! Your classes were all good, you shared a dorm with an.. ‘okay’ roommate, it was awesome! And, you were working in a cafe! You were pretty much the owner of it, as it was new and you were one of the first workers! No one else took care of it, so, contacting the principal, Yoda— he was a confusing little thing— you asked if you could take care of it and open it. You’d work on it. And, you supposed, it brought us here now. Of course, it wasn’t popular, but some people came in, for the tranquility of it or just a quiet place in the morning.

However, there was this one boy that had frequently visited your shop. A regular. What was his name again? it was different, but pretty and you liked it, oh- Echo! Echo was his name.

A pale man, with cybernetics, which you found awesome. Cybernetics weren’t a rare thing, here. But you never saw a lot of people wearing them. Unless something had happened, which an incident probably did happen to him. You wouldn’t ask though. You knew some things were personal.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, you heard the bells jingle that were connected to the door, signaling someone had come in. Blinking, you turned around, seeing Echo. He was bundled up, shivering.

“Mornin’! What can I get for you! Something warm, I presume?” You spoke up, raising a brow with a smile. He jumped, before giving you a grateful smile and nodding. “Please. I’m freezing over here.” He responded, before moving to sit in the bar area, where he sat on a high chair, blowing into his hand and trying to warm up the metal that replaced his right hand to his forearm.

“Can I just have a hot caff, please?” He requested, making you smile and nod. “Mhm! Anything else? And would you like it black or not?” Echo rubbed his hand on his pants leg, looking at you. “Uhm- black, and uhm,” his pale brown eyes scanned the menu, before deciding. “Can I have strawberry oatmeal, please?” you nodded, before turning your back on him. “I’ll get that ready for you,” you called out, before preparing his food.

A couple moments later, you came back, placing his food in front of him along with his caf, and then grabbing a spoon, handing it to him. As he went to grab it, thanking you softly, your fingers brushed together, making your fingers linger before pulling back, brows furrowed before one raised, staring at him. I mean, you get it, it was super cold today, your hands were cold too, but his? He felt dead.

“Your hands are really cold,” you commented in a tone of slight amusement, making him look away shyly. “I get that a lot,” he admitted. You shook her head, giving him a toothy smile. “It’s not a bad thing. It’s okay. Do you want some hand warmers, though?” You offered. He blinked, raising a brow. “You have those?” You nodded, grinning at him, before pulling them out from one of your drawers and giving the small bag to him. As soon as he grabbed them, he fought back a moan of relief from the warmth, basking in the soft heat he finally felt as he rolled it around in his hand.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, in a state of bliss.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Move, disabled! I don’t want your metal screwdriver of an arm spilling my drink or impaling me.” One of the students at the college said, shoving Echo, almost making him fall out the seat. Echo’s brows furrowed and he glared at the student, but he was used to the comments about his body. It was ritualistic at this point. At least one person once a day had to say something about it. Some students were mean. “Stupid droid,” the man sneered, and Echo was about to open his mouth to let out a retort, but someone else beat him to it.

“Shut up. You’re not funny. No one’s laughing, and I know you’re not talking about him when I vividly remember that it was you who dropped your entire plate in the cafeteria. Oh, and made an entire spill here. And Echo is the one over here with the metal scope for his arm, yet he still has better balance than you. So, unless you’re just trying to make yourself feel better because he’s better than you, shut up.” You spoke, narrowing your eyes at the man whose brows furrowed and flushed a light pink as you called him out and humbled him.

“Leave my customers alone. If you can’t do that, then leave. No one wants you here anyway.” You muttered under your breath sternly, rolling your eyes. The man sputtered, before walking out in a fit of embarrassment and anger. Snorting at his little tantrum, you shrugged. However, as you brushed it off, Echo stared at you with wide eyes. He was baffled. Absolutely flabbergasted. Never had he been stood up for before. Only his twin and some of his other brothers, but never a stranger. He felt his heart warm, and for once on this very, very cold day, he felt warm.

“Thank you,” he whispered shyly, clearing his throat awkwardly. You turned to him with a smile, features immediately softening and becoming more friendly as you focused on him. “Course! It’s what any other person would do,”

No they wouldn’t, only you,

Echo wanted to stay, but he was quiet, listening to you with a shy and adoring smile. Then, you grinned at him mischievously once more. “Don’t listen to him either. Honestly,” you leaned forward towards him, as if sharing a secret that no one else could hear while smirking softly.

“I like your cybernetics. They’re really cool. And also? You’re pretty.” You admitted, a cheeky smile on your face as you leaned away, shrugging. Echo felt the tips of his ears burn, and his face felt hot as he swallowed. “Don’t let anyone else tell you otherwise. They’re just mad.” You joked, a chuckle leaving you. “I- I, oh, well, I uhm- thank you,” he stammered out, flustered and shy, making you nod with a small laugh.

“Angel,” he mumbled out, as she turned around to tend to the others, a blush on his pale face. He should bring his brother here. Fives would like you. He knew. After all, he and his brother liked the same things usually.

#the clone wars #the bad batch #college au #501st legion #arc trooper echo #echo x reader

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blondechariot · 1 month ago

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~Broken Hearts and Loud Rooms Part 3~

pairing: Jaehyun x reader x a little bit of Mingyu

Warnings: Fire, fluff, jealousy, emotional angst, hurt feelings

Disclaimer: Not my gifs

Part 4

“I’m telling you, just two steps up a ladder and Jun is about to pass out,” Mingyu says amusedly before taking a sip of his coffee. “Every time he decides to change the light bulb, I already get into position to catch him.”

You laugh and tuck your hair behind your ear. The two of you are strolling down the street toward your apartment. Earlier, you had dinner at an Italian place and grabbed a coffee to go afterward. Mingyu was charming—unfairly good-looking, tall, stylish, funny—and when he hugged you hello, he smelled like mint.

You’d had a great time together, laughing a lot, and he’d been the perfect gentleman. You felt comfortable around him.

As you near your place, he tosses both your empty coffee cups into a trash can and hides his hands in his pockets.

“Ugh, I hate this moment,” he confesses, and you look at him, surprised.

“What do you mean?”

“This goodbye after a first date… it’s just weird,” he explains, and you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, totally. I never know what to do. Do I hug you? Thank you for the evening? Is that cheesy? Do I give you a high five?” you ask nervously.

“Exactly! Do I owe you money? How long do I wait before calling you? Do I kiss you goodbye?” he says with a laugh.

You freeze, eyes wide.

“What did you just say?”

“Nothing?” he replies, clearly unsure, smiling awkwardly.

You blush and glance down at your shoes.

“I told you I was in a long relationship, right? It’s been ages since I’ve had a first date… or any date at all,” you explain.

He nods thoughtfully and shrugs. “So what?”

“I’m not really good at this kind of thing. I don’t really know how it works,” you admit nervously.

He bites his lip and steps a little closer.

“Then let me help you. Usually, if the date sucked, there’s an awkward hug and both people pretend they’ll be in touch even though they both know it’s not gonna happen… but if the date was great…”

He takes another step forward and gently places a hand on your cheek.

“There’s an amazing goodbye kiss,” he whispers.

You smile broadly, move closer, and press your lips to his. His hands rest on your cheeks, and you place yours on his forearms. His lips are soft like butter, and you taste the coffee and tiramisu you had for dessert. The kiss is gentle, and butterflies stir in your stomach.

When he pulls back, he smiles and opens his mouth to say something—then his expression shifts as he looks behind you.

“W-What? Do I have coffee breath?” you ask in a panic, breathing into your hand.

“N-No, you smell amazing. I was just… distracted,” he says, nodding behind you.

When you turn around, you see a couple tangled up in each other in the building entrance. The woman is pressed against the wall while the man stands between her legs, one of which is wrapped around his waist. Their kiss is intense, and they’re moaning.

Just from their posture and the sounds, you immediately know who it is.

“I don’t even want to imagine how great their date was,” Mingyu says in amazement.

“Believe me, their standards aren’t that high,” you mutter as the couple separates.

Of course, it’s Jaehyun, who now notices you and turns around with a cheeky smile.

“Oh hey,” he says innocently, adjusting his pants.

“Just ignore him,” you urge Mingyu quickly, turning back to face him.

“Okay,” he says, smiling.

“Anyway, there’s a rooftop party downtown next weekend. A few friends of mine are going, and I was wondering if you’d like to come with me,” he asks shyly.

“Oh, I’d love to!” you say enthusiastically.

“Sorry to interrupt, are you talking about the High Town Club?” Jaehyun suddenly chimes in, now standing behind you with his date.

“Yeah,” Mingyu replies, surprised.

“Fuck, I love that place,” Jaehyun’s date sighs, tugging on his arm.

“That’s funny—we were planning to go there too,” Jaehyun says.

“Nice, have you been there before?” Mingyu asks curiously.

Jaehyun’s smile fades.

“Are you serious? We went there together. With Taeyong? And Jisoo?”

“Oh… sorry, man, that’s on me. I’m terrible at remembering faces.”

“Faces?! We shared a bathroom when we were drunk on tequila!” Jaehyun exclaims.

“Shouldn’t you two be getting back to fucking in the doorway?” you hiss at him.

“I should get going,” Mingyu says, “but I’ll text you—really.” He gives you one last quick kiss.

“I’ll text you too,” Jaehyun says to his date and awkwardly pats her on the shoulder.

“Okay… bye,” you wave to Mingyu as he heads toward the street.

As you and Jaehyun approach the front door, he clears his throat.

“You know the High Town Bar is a total pickup joint, right?” he says as you open the door.

You let out a quiet, amused laugh as you head toward the elevator.

“What? It is,” he insists.

“I’m just going to pretend I don’t care what you say—oh wait, I don’t even have to pretend,” you reply.

Jaehyun scoffs and shrugs.

“Hey, I’m telling you this because we’re friends and I don’t want to see you get played.”

“Okay, let’s assume you actually care about my well-being and you’re not just mad he didn’t remember you,” you say, crossing your arms.

“I can still decide for myself what’s good for me—because unlike you, I’m not afraid to take risks and open up to people,” you explain.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I do open up to people,” he says, clearly offended.

You both step out of the elevator and head to the apartment.

“Yeah, sure you do,” you scoff.

“Hey! How was your date?” Johnny calls from the living room.

“Great!” you both shout in unison, then exchange confused looks.

“In what way don’t I open up to people?” Jaehyun asks suspiciously.

You shake your head, not wanting to get into it. The truth is, things have been weird between you ever since he spent the night in your bed. The next day, he avoided you, barely spoke, and couldn’t even look you in the eye.

What hurt the most was how much his behavior affected you. You’d always seen Jaehyun as cold and distant—but that night showed a different side of him. You liked that side. It had changed your view of him, and just thinking about it made your heart race.

“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” you say and head into the bathroom to wash your hands.

But he follows you. He clearly has something to get off his chest.

“I don’t get you,” he says. “I was an asshole when I didn’t care who you were with—and now that I do care, I’m still an asshole?”

You groan in frustration and roll your eyes.

“Jae, just drop it, okay? I like Mingyu, and I’m sorry if your ego’s bruised by that—but that’s your problem.”

“This isn’t about ego. I’m not sixteen anymore,” he scoffs, leaning on the doorframe.

“Oh yeah? Then what’s it about?” you challenge, looking him straight in the eyes.

He meets your gaze for a moment, and the world seems to fall silent around you.

“Hey,” Johnny calls out, stepping into the hallway. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says, still holding your gaze. His expression has changed—it’s closed off again.

You scoff and brush past him, bumping his shoulder. When you reach your room, you close the door and lean back against it, swallowing hard and closing your eyes for a moment.

⸻

A few days later…

It’s a gray afternoon. You’re lying on the couch with headphones on and a book resting on your stomach. You’re trying to relax and focus on the music, staring up at the ceiling.

The past few days haven’t been easy—like a dark cloud’s been following you.

Mingyu had kept his word and stayed in touch. You texted every day.

Jaehyun, on the other hand, you’d been actively avoiding. Just seeing him now made your blood boil more than usual. Not a day went by without you thinking of his annoying face, cocky comments, and arrogant looks.

Like now, as you lie on the couch trying to read, but your focus slips. Frustrated, you set the book aside.

Mark walks in from the kitchen. “I’ve got something in the oven—can you take it out in half an hour?” he asks as he heads out.

“Where are you going?”

“Back to campus.”

You nod slowly and decide to close your eyes for a bit, hoping some rest will calm your thoughts.

⸻

You’re jolted awake by a sharp smell. Smoke fills the air. Your eyes snap open—something’s burning.

“No, no, no!” you shout, leaping off the couch.

The kitchen is full of smoke, and the fire alarm soon starts blaring.

“Shit!” you curse, waving your arms to clear the air.

You rush to the oven, switching it off and opening the door—only to be hit with even more smoke. You cough hard.

“Oh my God!” Jaehyun’s voice shouts behind you. He must’ve just gotten home.

“What did you do?!” he yells, quickly opening a window.

“I fell asleep on the couch,” you say, coughing.

He reaches up and turns off the alarm, then grabs your shoulders and ushers you out to the balcony.

“Out. Now.”

The fresh air helps, and you sit down, trying to stop coughing. Jaehyun joins you after opening all the windows.

“Didn’t they teach you in school not to leave the oven on and fall asleep?” he scolds.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” you snap back. “Mark made something and asked me to take it out—but I fell asleep.”

“This is gonna take forever to air out,” he groans.

“Oh my God, I’m sorry, okay?” you shoot back.

“Don’t take it out on me—I didn’t try to burn the place down.”

“No, but we’ve had water damage and broken furniture thanks to your parties.”

“Well, I’m allowed to make a mistake too!” you add.

He shakes his head in disbelief, then looks at you.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Save it,” you mutter.

He rolls his eyes and leans against the railing.

“We need to air out the place or we’ll get smoke poisoning,” he explains, sitting down.

“Whatever,” you mutter, staring down at the street.

You notice raindrops starting to fall.

Just as you’re about to say something, it starts pouring.

Jaehyun laughs, running a hand through his wet hair.

“Perfect.”

“Let me guess—also my fault?”

“Maybe. With that face, you sure aren’t summoning sunshine,” he retorts.

You scoff, soaked.

“Maybe we should call the fire department,” you suggest.

“For what? There’s no fire.”

“I’m just trying to help.”

“Yeah, you should, after this mess.”

“Stop acting like you’re perfect.”

“The only one here playing the innocent one is you,” he counters.

“Excuse me?”

“This whole self-righteous thing you do—complaining about loud music, parties, blah blah blah,” he mimics your voice.

“You’re such a pathetic asshole. You know that?”

“Thanks. Try a new insult sometime.”

“That’s it. I’m leaving.”

“The apartment’s full of smoke—you can’t see anything.”

“I don’t care. I’d rather die of smoke inhalation than sit out here with you.”

You try to open the balcony door, but he holds it shut.

“Stop it,” he hisses.

“Let me go,” you demand, struggling against his grip.

He’s stronger, and you stumble back.

“Why won’t you just leave me alone?!” you scream.

“What?” he says, confused, wiping his face.

“You’re like a goddamn mosquito—you’re always buzzing around me, annoying me, but the second I try to be nice to you, you leave me hanging!”

“Y/N—” he starts.

“No! I’ve had enough. Since that stupid party night, your mood swings are giving me whiplash… What do you want from me?”

He stares, speechless.

“What. Do. You. Want. From me?” you repeat, exhausted, running a hand through your wet hair.

His gaze softens, and he sighs.

“I don’t know… honestly.”

You let out a bitter laugh and nod.

“Perfect. Honest. That’s just… great.”

He looks at you a moment longer, then steps closer and gently takes your hands from your face.

“I…” he begins, confused, like he’s searching for an answer.

He leans in and kisses you—slowly, cautiously.

You frown slightly, but when his grip relaxes, you place a hand on his shoulder and kiss him back.

His hand moves to your neck, pulling you closer. The kiss deepens—his tongue grazes your lip, and you part your mouth.

It’s passionate now, electric. You feel fireworks in your chest.

When you finally pull away, his hand is still on your neck, and he looks lost.

You meet his eyes and nod slightly, like you understand him without words.

A noise interrupts you—Johnny’s voice calling from the living room.

“What the hell happened here?” he asks as he steps out into the smoke and sees you both drenched on the balcony.

“What the hell did you two do?”

#fanfic #fanfiction #fluff #romance #nct 127 #nct imagines #nctzen #jaehyun #jung jaehyun #kpop edits

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fligniuz · 2 months ago

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flig, i’m curious! i know it’s sensitive and probably not a good idea to discuss on here so you can just ignore this but i do wonder what makes luigi seem autistic. i've seen that take a lot on reddit but i don't really know what i'm looking at. someone said once that he has the gait but someone else also explained that that was probably from his back? v interested to hear an autistic person's take

hi anon i appreciate you asking this sorry i’m getting to U kinda late!! idk if my answer will make much sense but i will try

i just want to preface by saying i am obviously NOT a psychologist and i have no clinical experience whatsoever, i can’t diagnose him nor do i want to. if you disagree with me or think this post is weird and parasocial that is perfectly fine and i respect that 100%! these are simply observations i’ve made as someone who is autistic + who hangs out with mostly other autistic people and i was quite hyperfixated on autism in general for some time in my life so idk. this is just word vomit honestly. i am iffy on assigning labels/diagnoses to people just because it feels like psychoanalyzing him and again i’m not professionally equipped to do that and only luigi really knows the answer to this question, so i’m kinda nervy to post this but whatever LOL. don’t take this too seriously it comes down to vibes for me genuinely

honestly i have trouble putting it into words. i think it’s mainly his mannerisms and his way of thinking for me? by mannerisms i mean that he’s veryyyyy expressive, especially with his hands and his face. example:

NOW. he is also just…italian. that could be part of it. i wouldn’t know! but as someone who’s on the hyper-expressive end of the spectrum i see a lot of myself in how he carries himself. the seemingly constant fidgeting (this was especially evident for me in the footage from the motel in altoona just before he was arrested, the first gif reallyyy captures it) comes off like someone who is naturally just uncomfortable in his body and has a lot of pent up energy and tension that he can only release through the little movements he makes. even when he’s handcuffed (😓) you can see his fingers twitching, almost like he’s just itching to move (and again, he’s shackled pretty much all the time, so all of that very well could be an adverse reaction to that kind of sensory deprivation or just anxiety in general. it was a stressful moment for him with all the cameras around so probably not the best example). i think the desk clerk picked up on this but labeled it poorly—if i remember correctly he stated that he thought luigi might have been a veteran and that he was acting “cagey” and “suspicious”, and to a non-autistic person he may very well have come off that way! but to me? he was just…movin n’ groovin. seemed very natural for him to be twisting about and looking around and checking his fitbit, like none of that came off as sus or even unnatural to me. seemed completely in his element. it just came off like maybe a kinda anxious person who is very intense and animated both in his speech and his facial expressions. i have no idea if this makes any sense but i hope i’m conveying it properly. the fidgeting just really flagged me down honestly, and i don’t think i’m the only person who’s pointed it out here before

another thing that SCREAMED autistic to me (and i don’t think this is something that we have a receipt of, just testimony, but if i’m wrong and somebody has the screenshot that would be so helpful!) is that a little bit before luigi went missing, he did reach out to some people and to one particular individual he expressed feeling “on a different wavelength” from everybody else (i’m paraphrasing, it was something along those lines). this is a feeling i have consistently had throughout my life. i’ve always described it as kinda feeling “off-planet” or like there’s a wall built between me and my peers that prevents me from connecting properly, but if i’m hearing him correctly it’s the same kind of feeling. i think his talk about “npc behavior” is kind of an extension of this—i believe i said something similar on anon to another blog but luigi seems to me like someone whose feelings are so big in a world where that ability isn’t respected much anymore. he may have had trouble finding a relationship in which he felt genuinely understood and that is a very familiar feeling for autistic people all around the world!

one last thing that i want to mention. i have NOT found any receipt of this and i’m still on the lookout for it so again if anybody does please lmk !! but a few people have said that luigi was following either a substack or a twitter account that posted stuff about neurodivergency, and if that is true i think that’s worth bringing up. if the man himself was following material specific to neurodivergent life then it’s not out of the question that he could be on the spectrum. maybe he just had a suspicion of something, or he could very well be diagnosed and that’s just a part of his private life that thankfully hasn’t bled out into the public—but regardless, if that little tidbit is correct, then he had some reason to be interested in that kind of account and i’d be willing to bet it’s probably personal based off of all the other details i have noticed.

ok wow that was a novel i’m sorry let me end by reiterating i really don’t want to come off like i’m psychoanalyzing every little behavior of his or maybe even projecting myself onto him, obviously i am an absolute stranger to him as are the rest of us and we have no way of knowing whether or not these suspicions are valid, and that is perfectly fine with me! this is not something i’m like willing to die on a hill for y’know? if luigi is autistic then i think there’s a conversation we could have about how law enforcement and the prison system are consistently hostile towards neurodivergent individuals, but outside of that it really changes nothing at all. he’s still luigi. these are just thoughts that i’ve had before that could be possible but are certainly not definitive or cemented in reality as far as we know. i’m just some autistic weirdo on the internet who notices things!!!

hope this makes a modicum of sense💚

#flig’s thoughts

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im-out-of-it · 4 months ago

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part 7 of season 2, episode 15 continued “a problem of memory”

77. Aline is here!!!!!

fake Sebastian: oh fuck this wasn’t part of my plan!

78. I’m here to watch Izzy and aline bond, move over

79. ah shit Sebastian, you better form a new plan

also can we talk about how Alec was the first to feel odd vibes from Sebastian and now he’s convinced Alec to trust him so much to do security for valentines transfer? DUDE IS EXCEPTIONAL AT MISCONCEIVING ALEC. and sometimes I feel they had Alec do stuff that was so out of character for Alec

80. I love the character of Aline and I wish we would have had more of her on the show. I like the second actress more who played her but this one is still beautiful. I love the strong woman that aline is

81. he is gorgeous

82. well aline has just given the fake Sebastian a warning and time to prepare

83. real Sebastian doesn’t have a choice if murder is on the table

84. I feel bad for real Sebastian. imagine just living your life and some demon kidnaps you and holds you hostage and then murders you

85. Clary: I’m ready to get Simon back

I mean Simon wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone

86. Luke: yeah I don’t think you’re the right person to help. I also want to give Luke a shoutout for having Simons back. the gif is with the last part I believe with the Izzy content but it makes me happy seeing Luke protecting Simon. the issue with Luke for me is he’s 70/30 help clary at all times no matter what and actually be there for downworld. and he seems to risk the lives of downworlders more for clary’s sake than actually protecting them

87. full offense to clary but there is nothing she can do that will amend his broken heart. and the last thing Simon needs is clary popping up everywhere. imagine someone you’re dating hurts you in the most incomprehensible way and then they start popping up everywhere. yeah I’d be real mad if someone hurt me and then wouldn’t leave me alone

while I do understand she cares about Simon and wants to help him- I’m sorry but learn your place. Clary’s problem is she does whatever she wants instead of thinking what the other person would want

88. I love when Raphael speaks Spanish

89. it’s funny Raphael says “hey I’ll help you if you help me” and I feel for him. he only has his sister left in the world while he can’t see her anytime he wants. he has every right to want to be a daylighter like Simon. I’ve spoken before how Simon has unbelievable support but Raphael doesn’t have that. he has Magnus and his clan. he can’t see his last relative whenever he wants. Simon has all the support while getting to see anybody he wants at anytime of the day. I definitely understand Raphael wishing he could be a daylighter or a mundane. he didn’t ask to be a vampire

I feel like a lot of Raphael’s valid concerns get pushed to the side because of that one thing he did. did he make a mistake? yes but I genuinely believe Raphael is a good person. he’s always looking out for his clan, putting them first, and how many times has he helped Simon? he allowed Simon to believe Raphael turned him when he didn’t. Simon owes jace nothing but somehow in Simons mind he acts like he owes jace his life. I was going to use another gif but it didn’t format properly and I couldn’t take it. my mind said no we are not doing this today or else it would ruin everything. but this goes about how downworlders get killed for breathing but shadowhunters can get away with killing: (also makes me want to redo season one so bad lmao)

and I’m not trying to excuse any of Raphael’s actions, but I feel like his actual concerns and Raphael’s life gets pushed to the side and they focus more on the bad that he does. and also- downworlders are more likely to be in prison and killed than shadowhunters are. Valentine was able to go forward with his plans for so long but holy hell a seelie kills a few shadowhunters and an all out war almost happens. Magnus says in season one that shadowhunters didn’t believe that one of their own could ever deceive them

the only shadowhunter I saw being arrested was clary and jace and that lasted for a second and they left them all go because hey it’s clary and jace and they shouldn’t ever pay any consequences for any of their actions let them do whatever

I’m just saying rant over because how long was valentine in power and the clave doesn’t seem to do much about it except believe he’s dead? while they are so severe with a downworlder breathing. so I’m saying Raphael did something bad but he shouldn’t be thought of just that one action. and yes it does make me mad how shadowhunters in general aren’t held accountable

I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN HOW UNDERHILL TREATED MAGS IN SEASON THREE SOMEONE SHOULD HAVE WENT OFF ON HIM SORRY I GOT CARRIED AWAY BUT HERE IS RAPHAEL

fuck that as all 89? hell I can’t ever shut up but stopping at 90 for part 9 I think nope WRONG part 8 coming up stay tuned

#anti cassandra clare #anti cc #just my stupid opinions #alec lightwood #magnus bane #shadowhunters tv #show alec is superior #show magnus is superior #show malec is superior #anti jace herondale #anti clary fray #putting anti cc on all show shadowhunter posts because i don’t want an pro book fans hating on my shit #marking this as 2x15 #yes it will always make me mad about downworlder treatment while shadowhunters can murder whoever they desire and be fine #Raphael deserved better #I love aline!!!!!

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specializationisforinsects · 2 years ago

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On Names, Meaning, and Self-Determination

aka ✨✨I woke up wondering about the significance of the name Anthony at three am and I'm now certifiably insane ✨✨

Good Omens is undeniably a queer allegory, and also at the heart a story about self-determination and free will. I think I’ve discovered something related to these two things that I haven’t heard anyone talk about, and it’s making me loco.

Choosing one’s own name is a very queer (often trans but more broadly queer) action; a way to assert and affirm one’s identity, often in opposition to a power structure that existed in a previous iteration of one’s life - our hero does this several times. Let’s take a closer look:

(Disclaimer: I’m using he/him for Crowley here for clarity and because the show and book often do.)

Starmaker [???] -> Crawly

We get to see Angel!Crowley, popularly called the Starmaker, in the opening shots of season two. Whatever the Starmaker's name was, he's insistent at several times throughout history that that is no longer him:

"I knew the angel you were." / "The angel you knew is not me." "You were an angel once." / "That was a very long time ago."

I love that the narrative never tells us what Angel!Crowley's name is - and I hope it bears out in season three. That's not him, and quite clearly he doesn't want to be (mistaken for) that angel ever again.

When we see him again, (chronologically) Crawly is now fallen from grace, a serpent demon, introducing himself to Aziraphale on the wall of the Garden of Eden after all that business with the apple. This is pretty clearly a callback to Genesis 3:14:

And the LORD God said unto the serpent, Because thou hast done this, thou art cursed above all cattle, and above every beast of the field; upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life:

(Even though...chronologically...I think he had that name before tempting Eve.)

Crawly -> Crowley

In Golgotha, he cites Crawly as "too...squirming at your feet-ish" which again is not him (except for some *cough* situations into which I will not delve here) anyway

The shift from Crawly to Crowley is a subtle one, just a few letters. It speaks to me of a quiet rebellion against Hell, not changing so much that it attracts a lot of attention, but nevertheless rejecting the role Hell has cast him in.

[sorry my gifs suck so bad. It's quicker to grab a snippet than find someone else's better gifs.]

Aziraphale is surprised by this, but not unpleasantly so.

Crowley is making it clear he will only go along with Hell as far as he can. He doesn’t use their name for him, he’s not fully on their side. He still sees himself as a demon (unforgivable) but he’s taken some of his power and agency back. He won’t go blindly along with either Heaven or Hell, he’s asserting his independence.

(I don't know much about the meaning of this name, other than the fact that it's an Irish surname. Doubtless, there's some connection to Aleister Crowley. It's also apparently a maritime logistics company that will "Build and Operate the First Fully Electric U.S. Tugboat". Good for them!

It also reminds me of crows. I have a soft spot for bad boys who model their image after corvids as a defense mechanism.)

Anyway, part II. This brings us to the part that I woke up at three am thinking about.

Crowley, Anthony J.

"The famous Mr. Crowley!"

Here's what we’ve (fandom) spent a lot of time focusing on:

“What's the J for?” / “Just a J, really.”

Here's what I propose we focus on instead:

“Antony?” / “You don’t like it?” / “I didn’t say that! I’ll get used to it.”

Anthony. Why Anthony?

Anthony's not a name that appears in the Bible, but there are a few historical Anthonys we may know…

Marc Antony

(Most of this is pulled directly from wikipedia.)

Marc Antony was one of the Second Triumverate, a group of three men who ruled Rome after the assassination of Julius Caesar. Politically there were a lot of power struggles between them, and Antony married the sister of one of the other men (Octavian) in the triumvirate, as a kind of peacekeeping political move. However, Antony’s territory included Egypt and the young queen Cleopatra.

There were a lot of wars and sieges - I’m not gonna pretend I understand it, but basically Antony was hanging out in Egypt with Cleopatra and Octavian consolidated power in Rome, and started a smear campaign against Antony.

He argued that Antony was a man of low morals to have left his faithful wife abandoned in Rome with the children to be with the promiscuous queen of Egypt. Antony was accused of everything, but most of all, of "going native", an unforgivable crime to the proud Romans. Several times, Antony was summoned to Rome, but remained in Alexandria with Cleopatra.

Going native?? Where have we heard that before?

Octavian and other Roman Senators believed that turning the hostilities towards Cleopatra as the villain would gather the most support from Romans for war. […] Octavian's publication of [Antony’s will (alleged)] which named Antony and Cleopatra's children as heirs and directed his burial in Alexandria, was used as a political weapon in Rome to declare war against Cleopatra and Egypt as a whole. Octavian, now close to absolute power, invaded Egypt in August, 30 BC. With no other refuge to escape to, Antony stabbed himself with his sword in the mistaken belief that Cleopatra had already done so. When he found out that Cleopatra was still alive, his friends brought him to Cleopatra's monument in which she was hiding, and he died in her arms.

Oof. Choosing their own side under pain of death.

St. Anthony of Padua

Okay I’m not religious, and I'm tired of spending time on catholic websites but here are a few bullet points I found to make me scream

Saint Anthony is known in Portugal, Spain, and Brazil as a marriage saint, because legends exist of him reconciling couples.

Saint Anthony of Padua is known as the patron saint of lovers, often prayed to for meeting one's soulmate or finding lost love.

Pope Leon XII referred to him as “the saint of the world.”

Anthony

We don’t learn about the name “Anthony” until 1941, meaning that Crowley chose it for himself sometime after 1862 and before 1941. During a period of separation from Aziraphale after one of their bitterest arguments, he picks a human name for himself.

So, finally (jk this was first, but…)

I looked up the meaning of the name Anthony and (allegedly) it means “highly praiseworthy” or “priceless one”.

Take a minute.

The implications of this being a name he’s chosen for HIMSELF??

That maybe he hopes Aziraphale will call him??

That, to my knowledge in the show, Aziraphale hasn’t called him??

In conclusion

(I made myself crazy with this, please scream with me a little bit? I gotta go take a shower and wash the catholic websites off.)

#good omens #meta #anthony j crowley

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dappledpaintbrush · 1 year ago

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What do you think of the SPM villains as a whole? I'm going to make a wild guess and assume your favourite is Dimentio based off only my obvious mind reading intellect-

Please go into as much detail as your heart desires. I love this game a lot and hearing about it makes me very happy. It's my special interest, and I am deprived of obsessive rants over this game that aren't my own.

I hate dimentio fym. Let’s kill him.

LMAOAOAOAOAO but real talk: ANOTHER PERSON WITH AN SPM SPECIAL INTEREST?;?? WOOHOO!!!!! HIP! HIP! HOORAY!! we are now Blood Brothers

I apologize if I’m misinterpreting and you have already seen the post, but I have answered an ask before that is what you’re looking for- here it is! :3 I went into hefty detail on each member of Team Bleck. Trust me, it’s very long LMAOAO

HOWEVER… if you are not talking about just Team Bleck and are referring to the other villains as well- then…

Fracktail/Wracktail:

Fracktail has always. Stuck with me. First of all, his theme goes HARD????? Good lord, go ACTUALLY listen to it if you haven’t. It’s the equivalent of this

Anyways, Fracktail has always made me feel sad. And when I was younger, he scared me. It scared me that he died for something that wasn’t even his fault. Like dude usually when characters get brainwashed and they eventually regain control, they get a happy ending and stuff. Fracktail BLEW UP??? I personally just can’t stand it when characters reap something they never sowed- and this applies to characters as minuscule as Fracktail.

Now. Wracktail. He is. Interesting.

Both Fracktail and Wracktail are incredible examples of how INSANELY POWERFUL Ancient magic is, but Wracktail is a bit different. Wracktail refers to himself as a god multiple times. Is this actually true, or is he “making it up” or exaggerating? Were the Ancients capable of CREATING DEITIES? Were Grambi and Jaydes former Ancients who turned themselves into gods? Are the Pixls classified as gods? After all, both the Pixls and Wracktail are immortal unless harmed, and they were both created by the ancients. But if you can die from an injury, are you really a god? Or, like I stated before, is Wracktail not actually a god?Something else interesting is that Wracktail seems to be aware of Shadoo’s existence. HOW? Does Wracktail posses some kind of omnipotence? Did Shadoo reveal herself to Wracktail out of pity because they were both created and ruined by the Ancients? HOW. WHAT. WHY. Ugh I could go on FOREVER. It’s not that deep, sure, but it’s fun to ponder.

Bonechill:

Bonechill. Was. Wasted.

One of the MOST intriguing parts about Super Paper Mario is- and I’ve talked about this a lot- the extremely bold references to Christianity. Bonechill is a carbon fucking copy of Satan, and he was BOOOOOOOORRRINGG

WHY . WHY DID THEY WASTE THIS CHARACTER. WHY CAN YOU BEAT HIM SO FAST IT CAN BE TURNED INTO A GIF. HOW DOES HE KNOW ABOUT LUVBI BEING A PURE HEART?? Oh yeah, I know, BECAUSE HE WAS A FALLEN ANGEL, AND CLEARLY HE HAD TO HAVE BEEN EXTREMELY CLOSE WITH AND TRUSTED BY GRAMBI TO BE AWARE OF LUVBI’S ORIGINS. HELL, EVEN IF BONECHILL SPIED ON A CONVERSATION OR SOMETHING, HE STILL HAD TO HAVE BEEN VERY CLOSE WITH GRAMBI TO BE CAPABLE OF DOING THAT. IS THAT WHY HE WAS CASTED OUT OF HEAVEN? BECAUSE HE BETRAYED GRAMBI? YOU KNOW WHAT THEY SHOULDVE DONE? THEY SHOULDVE HAD A SCENE BETWEEN GRAMBI AND BONECHILL ABOUT THIS. BUT NOOOOOOOOOO MY NAME IS BONECHILL IM EVIL MWHAHAHAAH OHH IM DEAD DAMN NVM! FUCK.

But on a funnier note this part in KoopaKungFu’s let’s play always made me laugh as a kid

But What do you mean Bonechill was just. Standing there. I know nobody commented on it because this is a video game (it’s funny regardless LMAO). BUT WERE GRAMBI AND BONECHILL TALKING (I say talking, but this doesn’t mean they were calm about it) ABOUT THEIR PAST? OR DID THEY FIGHT BECAUSE GRAMBI IS INJURED. DID THEY DO BOTH? WHY. WAS . THE FACT. BONECHILL. KNOWS. ABOUT. LUVBI. AND. THAT. HE. WAS. A . FALLEN. ANGEL. NEVER. TALKED. ABOUT. MY BLOOD. PRESSURE. IS. RISING.

Blumiere’s Father:

I wish I could say a lot more about him, but surprisingly I’ve never gotten around to making headcanons for him/Blumiere. It’s crazy because you know that in his head he believes he is doing the right thing for his son and for the Tribe of Darkness as a whole. What kind of indoctrination did he have to go through to believe that KILLING somebody simply because she and his son loved one another was a rational and reasonable course of action. God I wish we knew at least a LITTLE more about him- but the minuscule amount of scenes he has makes his impact on the story that much more harrowing.

King Croacus:

I fw King Croacus heavy. My favorite drag queen of all time. God he’s so cool.

As somebody who is lore obsessed, I ADORE the fact we got so many details on the rulers of the Floro Sapiens. It’s something the developers did not have to do yet they did it anyways. Every time I walk through that hall in the game I read every single plaque.

It’s also? Really disturbing how we KILLED this guy? I know he comes back post-game but like regardless we did kill a guy who’s mind was deteriorating because of polluted water. Like that shit wasn’t his fault. He died for the faults of the Cragnons, who basically got off scot-free (unless you killed some of the brainwashed individuals). It’s an interesting metaphor for a variety of things that occur in reality.

Also, his theme is REALLY underrated. I know it’s simple, but I love it so much. King Croacus fans ASSEMBLE!

Francis:

When you’re trying to save all worlds but this fuckass Redditor downvotes you

Francis was one of the most genius parts of this game. Holy shit. I don’t even know what to say. He was so ahead of his time it’s actually scary. That whole chapter is one of the funnest parts of the game. All the niche references, the poking fun at Francis-like people, god it’s PEAK.

Something that’s interesting is that his Castle is implied to be where the Tribe of Darkness lived. Which is fucking hilarious. I personally prefer the idea that Castle Bleck was the old TOD home but that’s literally wrong. Carson said the TOD lives in a castle in the woods. Where do we see a castle in the woods. Uh huh. (I can get even more insane- the podium where Tippi’s cage was held. The podium that for some reason has a mechanism to hide it deep in the ground. Hmmm. A book can fit there. Can’t it. HMMMM) (I’m scraping the bottom of the barrel man somebody save me).

Also. Wokackness aside. Francis is terrifyingly smart. He created a PIXL. That’s something that I feel like is incredibly overlooked. How did he do that. How. ? HUH. ????????

Pixl Queen/Shadoo:

well you see uh

(no but seriously. I don’t even know where to begin. She’s one of my favorite characters in the game and we never ever get to see her. She’s heartbreaking. She’s devastating. She’s terrifying. She has nobody looking out for her. She is alone. But she fights so hard to be seen. She starts a war. She tries to kill every walking Ancient and the heroes of the Light Prognosticus. She screams and she cries and she begs and she pleas but nobody can hear her nor is listening. She is punished for being loved. She is punished for her wrath. She is still here in the form of shadows in the cracks on the Trial walls but is that even her anymore? She did not deserve to die so young, but that death was infinitely more merciful than all that occurred after. She was born to die. It’s why she is still alive.)

Big Blooper:

blooooop lmao

#spm #super paper mario

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spoiledleaff · 2 years ago

Note

Adore your hc of Dew being turned on by domesticity, tell me more?

ohohoho, sweetheart, anon, love of my life? i am so glad you asked!!! >:) i won’t lie, i’ve been holding on to this ask for forever, because i love!! this hc? i can’t explain it, it’s just so much fun to write for! :D i tried to do at least one act for each ghoul, so pardon me if there’s quite a bit down below, haha!

but! without further ado, here’s my notes on the ‘dewdrop gets turned on by domesticity’ idea featuring the era iv ghouls! :D oh! this one does get kinda explicit! or at the very least suggestive! you’ve been warned >:)c

✿ ＡＥＴＨＥＲ.

aether is sappy, so sappy. we know this, the ghouls know this, everyone knows this, yeah? i think part of the reason why aeth’s and dew’s bond/chemistry is so great is because aether keeps doing things for everyone, and dew keeps getting all hot and bothered about it, haha!!

i mean, what’s he gonna do? say no to dewdrop? fuck that.

dew would often spend the night in aether’s dorm when he was first morphed into a fire ghoul, so a lot of this began with their shared morning and night routine.

dew is always the first in bed and the first out of bed. blame it on the mismatched energies of having been/being a water/fire hybrid thingy, haha! his personal routine is a bit more random? kind of like that, ‘i’ll get to it when i get to it’ sort of vibe. it’s honestly only thanks to cumulus that dewdrop has a routine for his hair, and thanks to omega that he has a small routine to help maintain his vessel’s integrity.

aether has a much more solid, organized routine than dewdrop. by far! haha! he’s the kind of ghoul who brushes his teeth. twice per day. without fail! :0 goals, honestly.

so, it kinda started when dew was curled up in aether’s bed, watching aeth out of the corner of his eye as aether waltzes around the room grabbing night clothes, putting away his day clothes, talking idly about his day. and even though dew isn’t offering more than a few grunts or groans in response, aether just doesn’t shut up.

but dew notices that aether’s doing the same thing for him too. he’s packing away and folding whatever clothes he shed from the day’s activities and storing everything together.

the kicker is when aether pops into his bathroom and pops back out with a hairbrush in his hand and he’s looking at dewdrop expectantly.

“… what’s the brush for?” “for you, dew. i’m gonna brush your hair before you doze off. you can talk about your day too if you want, but you’re gonna get tangles and knots if you just go to bed like that. i can braid it too.”

dewdrop had a boner the entire time. aether thought he was just being dramatic when dew refused to flip over, haha!

another part of their morning routine is that aether insists that they brush their teeth together. at least for the mornings.

so, dewdrop begrudgingly surrenders to aether, and they’re brushing their teeth together. dew’s letting his mind wonder as he brushes, and eventually he catches himself staring at aether.

the realization dawns on dew that aether’s staring back, and when aether also catches up, the ghoul just fucking smiles at dewdrop through a mouthful of toothpaste and stupid fucking bubbles.

when dewdrop kisses him, aether tastes like that stupid fake watermelon taste of children’s toothpaste.

they fuck on the bathroom counter, and dewdrop wonders if he can somehow prank aether into brushing his fangs with dewdrop’s own cum.

✿ ＲＡＩＮ.

rain’s a bit more secretly sappy than aether. but! rain’s a little bit similar to dew in the fact that domesticity certainly excites them. rain just isn’t as… painfully obvious.

one of the easiest ways to get frisky with rain is to actually get soft and sappy and obedient with them.

the mummy dust bills gif with dew and rain cOUGH— rain is just that silent dom top where one look communicates all you need to know, haha!

it might be because of the borderline rivalry that these two had when rain was first summoned, but their affections for each other are still a bit more… subtle. at least in comparison to most of the others!

regardless though, rain very much thrives on teasing dew! but, it’s actually a bit double sided, haha! it may seem like teasing to others, but to rain and dew it’s their own love language.

when they spend the night with each other, or even if they just happen to be cuddling on the couch with each other, it’s a fucking war for blankets.

while dew feels hot to the touch, his days as a water ghoul have cursed his vessel by always running colder than most fire ghouls, and rain’s just always fucking frigid.

so, the two ghouls would be sharing a massive fucking blanket, shoulder to shoulder. but, the more and more dew fidgets and shifts, the more blanket he ends up snatching. whether it’s an accident or not is open to debate it’s not. he does this on purpose.

rain might occasionally tug them back a couple times, give the little shit a warning before going back to maybe whatever movie they were watching, or to whoever they may have been talking with.

but then dew does it again. and again. and again.

eventually, rain’s just fucking fed up (read: wants to be closer) with him. twists their body around and just hoists dew’s smaller frame right into his lap. no words, except for dew’s surprised screech and maybe a brief moment of flailing limbs and twisting tails before rain has dewdrop in their lap, his back against their chest, and the blanket wrapped around dewdrop’s lap while rain makes a point of sapping all of the gremlin’s beat through his spine.

“what the fuck-?!” “oh, shut up. you keep moving, and i’m freezing.”

there’s a couple mandatory bitter words directed at the other, but they lack the usual bite. all too quickly, they both settle down into a routine they known like the back of each other’s hand. dew hunches over himself and slumps against rain’s chest. rain’s hands are wrapped loose around dew’s middle, those freezing cold hands of theirs sometimes slipping underneath dew’s sweater and caressing the skin there. rain nuzzles into dew’s neck and peppers little kisses as their hands gently smooth over dew’s upper thighs and abdomen.

when rain’s hand wraps around the base of dew’s erection, the little spitfire melts further against rain. they set a slow, gentle pace. and dewdrop shivers and mewls through the whole thing, blindly grabbing around his body until he finds a perfectly grab-able part of rain’s clothes. when he cums, it’s quiet. and rain doesn’t hesitate to lick their own hand clean before softly kissing the mess into dewdrop’s waiting mouth.

✿ ＭＯＵＮＴＡＩＮ.

mountain isn’t necessarily more on the secretive side of sappy, per say? he’s just genuinely clueless about how the things he’s doing can be considered as ‘domestic’ or ‘sappy’.

he’s very observant. the kind of personality where if you offhandedly mention one thing, he’s going to remember it for the rest of his life. and he’ll surprise you with it to!!

when dewdrop shifted into a fire ghoul, his whole waking and sleeping routine was uprooted too. now his consciousness seems to quite literally be tethered to when the sun rises and sets.

mountain has since observed this in relation to the traditional group breakfast time.

if he isn’t too sore from working around the abbey and from rehearsals, mountain will do his best to wake up before the sun even rises, just so he can beat dew to the kitchen. he has this routine perfect timed and down to a borderline science.

by the time dewdrop lazily slinks his way over to the kitchen, there’s already a near boiling cup of coffee perfectly tailored to his magickally-influenced tastes, placed alongside a bowl of sugar, and a small canister of those flavored creamers dew likes using sometimes. the caramel ones. by then, mountain’s already preparing breakfast with some of the herbs he’s just harvested.

(dewdrop’s taste of whether he prefers black coffee or sweetened-to-heaven-and-back coffee depends greatly on his mood, so mountain never actually prepares his drink for him. but, regardless, since shifting his element to fire, his personal palette has grown pickier about the temperatures of most hot foods. if his food is borderline set aflame, his senses will think it’s gone cold. even though to the typical tastebud, it’s still really hot! it’s even more touching because mountain’s vessel is much more susceptible to burns and damage from heat thanks to his element, so the fact that the earth ghoul is quite literally risking the wellbeing of his hands just to make dewdrop a cup of coffee really gets the arousal pooling hot in his gut.)

something else that mountain will do is leave little notes to the various members of his pack and/or siblings and members of the church that he’s close with. while mountain isn’t necessarily social anxious when safe behind the ministry walls, he still sometimes finds it hard to communicate his wants and needs verbally. so, he’ll write and leave little notes instead.

most of the time they can be sweet and sappy, or even just straight and to the point instructions on how to do something. sometimes they’re fucking filthy—

whenever the notes are specifically directed at dewdrop, mountain’s always crafty enough to leave a breadcrumb trail of sorts that leads right back to him. because mountain knows that dewdrop always tries to chase him down.

the notes are always simple, but sweet. stuff like, “your hair looks pretty today”, “your outfit is cute”, “you performed really well today in rehearsal”, “you fucked swiss over real nice from that bet”. little things :)

they never fail to make dewdrop fucking soaked though.

when dew finally corners mountain in the greenhouse, by the chapel, in the abbey grounds, wherever- that little ghoul will fucking tackle mountain to the ground with an earth shattering kiss and the world’s tightest goddamn hug.

“god fucking damnit, mounty, your handwriting’s so fuckin’ pretty-“ “mhn, not as pretty as you look straddling my waist, sweetheart.”

dewdrop will ride mountain until they’re both seeing stars, and mountain will tell dewdrop about all the other notes he had planned to write before he was caught until dewdrop’s squirting with a keen.

✿ ＳＷＩＳＳ.

aether’s more obviously sappy. mountain and rain are more secretly sappy. but swiss is a genuine wildcard of the ghouls!

one thing's for certain, somehow swiss manages to make affection into a competition!

whereas rain and dew once had a... less wholesome rivalry between them, swiss and dew currently have a much more wholesome, friendly rivalry.

mountain and aether find it cute how the two ghouls somehow manage to make almost everything they do a competition.

swiss tossed dewdrop's favorite blanket into the dryer so he can be less cold on the couch? oh, fuck no.

dewdrop snatched some chocolate from a kind sibling and is saving half of it for swiss? not for long, bitch.

swiss has some clothes of his set aside specifically for dewdrop because he knows how much the little spitfire loves drowning in swiss' clothes? how dare he.

dewdrop shares some of his favorite breakfast with swiss because he woke up late and mountain has already retired to the greenhouse? how. fucking. dare. he.

haha! needless to say, the sappy side of their relationship is honestly just a series of them one upping the other.

whenever the two ghoul’s are both assigned similar cleaning duties, they make a competition out of it. who can clean the grand staircase quicker, who can trap more of copia’s rats, who can do the most dishes, that sort of thing.

(though sometimes both swiss and dew will ‘help the competition’, just to keep things ‘interesting’. though they’d both deny doing something that soft.)

but, there's sometimes moments where swiss will just collapse into a nest of his making for a long series of afternoon naps. and when dewdrop goes into his room to investigate, swiss traps the fire ghoul underneath his heavy arms, and the two fall asleep together.

they spend their day just cuddling and laughing together. blissfully left alone by the others who can probably hear the raucous laughter throughout the entire ghoul's wing.

"fuck, doll, i just adore spending time with you doing a whole buncha nothin'." and dew gets so fucking wet hearing the usually flirtatious swiss say something so soft like that.

swiss, predictably, makes fun of dewdrop for his sudden and clear arousal, trapping dew in his arms as his tail plays with his crotch.

they fuck the rest of the evening away and dewdrop once squirted when swiss said, "wanna keep you in my arms forever and make every day so lazy and lovely as today. just your pretty little face kept alllll to my selfish self, babydoll."

they’re usually inseparable for the rest of the night into the next day.

well, that’s a wrap! i know i only did the ghouls ‘cause i felt so bad holding onto this ask for so long, haha! but! I’ve definitely got my fair share of ramblings for the ghoulette, the older ghouls, and even the papas too!! :) haha, if anyone’s ever interested, i have quite a bit to say on this silly little idea, hehe! ♡

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fannyspammy · 2 years ago

Text

We’re Okay

Adam Warlock x Reader

Summary: y/n & Adam disagree for the first time

Warnings: none ! just fluff :)

A/N: fifth part to the Firsts series! Sorry it took me so long to get the next part up! Had a super busy week :/ If you haven’t read the previous parts yet, my masterlist is here! (Can be read as a oneshot tho!)

taglist: @spderm4nnnn @nocturnest @joeysjaskier

[not my gif]

Adam loved everything y/n loved. Half because she was the one who introduced him to most things, and half because y/n just had good taste.

He loved all the different food she introduced him to, the books, the movies, the music. You listened to just about anything — classic crooners, r&b, pop throwbacks, show tunes.. you name it! Naturally, Adam listened to just about anything as well, but his favourites always featured a strong guitar.

Y/n nodded her head to the beat as The Black Keys filled her ears. They were one of her favourite groups, and one of the few she’d seen perform live on Terra before finding herself in space.

She was stretched over the couch, feet up on the arm rest on the side farthest from her, singing softly along to Everlasting Light.

“In me you can confide.. When no ones by your side.. Let me be your everlasting light.”

Adam walked in, cold drink in hand. “What’ya listenin’ to?” Y/n removed one of her earbuds and held it out for him to take. She retracted her legs to allow him to sit, and he pulled them back over his lap once he was settled in his spot. Taking the earbud, Adam immediately recognized the song and nodded his head in approval. Placing his drink on the coffee table, he leaned back into the pillows behind him, and they sat in contentment, singing along and creating actions to lyrics.

As the song ended, the rhythmic intro to Howlin’ For You began. “Oh, I love this one!” Adam stated. “Dan Auerbach.. what a legend.”

Y/n agreed, retelling the time she saw him live in concert. “His guitar solos were insane. Definitely my favourite guitarist.”

“Second favourite, you mean,” Adam said, shrugging lightly. Y/n raised an eyebrow and tilted her head in question. “After Adrian Belew, right?”

“Oh, I mean, he’s great, but Auerbach is still my favourite.”

Adam stared at her like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of her mouth.

“You’re joking right? Adrian Belew is the greatest of all time!”

Y/n shrugged. “I dunno, I love his stuff too, but I think I just prefer the blues-y rock vibes over a lot of Adrian’s experimental stuff.”

Adam’s mouth was slightly agape now. “Oh c’mon. Oh Daddy? Pretty Pink Rose? I mean, the man played with David Bowie!” He was sitting up now, sharp eyebrows furrowed in frustration and hands out with his palms up in a ‘what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about’ manner.

Y/n sat up too, sensing more tension than she thought was necessary for such a trivial topic. “Babe, chill. So I don’t think Adrian Belew is the greatest of all time, so what? Why is it such a big deal to you?”

The golden man stood up now, throwing his hands down to his sides as he did. Her legs slid off his lap as he walked away from the couch, pacing a few steps away before turning around to face her again.

“Why isn’t it a bigger deal to you? How can you not think he’s the greatest guitarist of all time? He’s so clearly unmatched!”

Y/n rolled her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. “Why is it so hard to accept that I prefer Auerbach’s style? I’m not saying Adrian isn’t great, it’s just personal preference! When it comes to the experimental stuff I can only listen in small doses. I prefer alternative. Why is that such a problem for you?”

“Because we always like the same things!” He shouted. Y/n was taken by surprise, eyebrows raised in shock before her expression softened into a more curious one. Adam sighed, rubbing his temple with his palm as he sat back down on the edge of the couch. “We… I always like everything you’ve shown me. Everything. I mean, I don’t think I’ve disagreed with you once since we met. What if it starts with this — I like Belew and you like Auerbach — and then it becomes other things? And then next thing you know we don’t agree on anything?”

Y/n stared at him intently as he explained himself. He looked like a sad puppy, eyes round and lips in a pout. She stifled a chuckle as she realized what he was saying. Leaning forward, knees bent up to her chest, she placed her hands on his thigh. He looked at where she touched him before looking into her eyes. “Adam, it’s okay for us to disagree!”

He looked at her sheepishly. “It is?”

“Yes, silly,” y/n smiled at him, amused. “It’s sweet that you’re concerned about us growing apart, but every couple disagrees on some things. And usually over more important things than who the best guitarist is.”

Adam relaxed and scooted closer, bringing his hands to rest on the back of her calves. His thumbs rubbed her shins gently. “So.. we’re okay then?”

Y/n smiled. “Yes, you idiot, we’re okay.”

Adam sighed in relief. He adjusted his position so he was resting his head on her knees, an arm hooked around her leg to hug it close to him. Y/n melted at the sight him — a powerful man who could single-handedly bring down an army, so soft and delicate with her.

She brought a hand to his head and stroked through his hair before placing a kiss on his forehead. He snuggled closer at her show of affection and y/n smiled once again.

“We’re okay.”

#gotg 3 #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #adam warlock #gotg v3 #guardians of the galaxy #gotg vol 3 #marvel #mcu #gotg #will poulter #adam warlock imagine #adamwarlock #adam warlock x reader #will poulter x reader #gotg 3 imagine #will poulter imagine #mcu fanfiction #adrian belew #the black keys

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fleur-de-violette · 2 years ago

Text

Gorgon’s eyes

AO3

Summary:

Dick will give time to his family. He’s just came back as Nightwing after being undercover in Spyral; he understands that they won’t forgive him immediately.

Except, when an encounter with neurotoxin leaves him completely paralyzed, he has no choice but to rely on them.

Prompt: Assassination.

Note:

This is my first story for this bingo and I’m here with a classic: hurting Dick Grayson. Warning for poison, vomiting and paralysis. I hope you’ll enjoy the story!

March 20, 5:14 AM

Dick winces at the sound of the window closing behind him. A quick look at the clock tells him the time. Too late. Or, more accurately, too early to finish patrol. He lets himself fall to the ground.

“Happy birthday to me,” he murmurs to himself, letting his wet hair dampen the wall behind him. The first day of spring in Blüdhaven will be magical this year, apparently. With rain, and more rain and maybe even more rain planned.

He doesn’t mind. His birthday hasn’t meant much since the one he celebrated at eight, anyway. And this year, he knows it will mean even less. Some twisted part of him wonders if he will get birthday wishes. Damian - smart, kind, wonderful Damian - will probably remember. He knows Tim will remember, but whether or not this will lead to a message is anyone’s guess.

It’s okay. Tim has every right to be angry with him. They all do. He doesn’t know how he would react if he found out that someone he cared about had been pretending to be dead. In a way, it’s comforting. It means they care about him.

There is Damian left. Damian, who came back from the dead, from a death Dick couldn’t prevent, only to find out Dick was dead, only to find out he wasn’t, and was just pretending. Damian who is twelve and could get angry. Could get so, so angry at Dick and Dick would understand and forgive him. Damian who, inexplicably, isn’t.

He let out a long sigh. He has to be in the coffee shop he currently works in at 8AM. Maybe he can shower and take a power nap before it’s time to go. Yeah. He can do that.

March 20, 1:47 PM

He smiles. He’s exhausted, and the sound of the rain that had been pouring nonstop is almost painful in his ears, but he smiles. This is something he learned all too well. He smiles, and he lies to his coworkers when they ask him how his night was. It has become a habit now. He lied a lot before, he was pretty good at it, but since Spyral? He has learned to lie about every little thing. He’s also better at seeing lies. He sees it in his coworkers, in the customers. He could barely shut this instinct down before, but now it’s completely impossible.

He tells himself it will make him better at being Nightwing, now that he’s back on the field under that name.

It’s fine.

He was, despite everything, not a bad spy. But then Helena gave him the chance to regain his old life, and he hadn’t hesitated. It doesn’t matter if things aren’t like before. He will keep doing his job, as Nightwing. He can do this.

His job. Keep being Nightwing. Not dying. Bruce had been very clear on that. Not dying.

The number one prerogative.

You can’t expect me to excuse you for losing sight of the value of your life.

I’ve trained you to live, and I had to watch you die.

He can do this. He might even be able to fix his relationship with his family, in due time. He can do this.

March 20, 5:24 PM

He opens his phone to find some messages. The one from Damian, he’s been expecting. He smiles at the idea of the kid. Steph had sent him a flashy gif, with a short message saying it’s both from herself and Cass. He’s got a few messages from the Titans, but nothing like he would have gotten before. No offer to see each other, either. He tries not to take it by heart. He has to give them time. He can’t complain. He’s the one who fucked up, after all.

He smiles again when he sees Alfred’s message, reminding him to take care of himself; and Clark’s, with a selfie of him, Lois, and Jon, all smiling. His heart aches a little. He’s getting better, but he still has a hard time looking at Clark without seeing another man with his face. One who tortured him and strapped him to a bomb.

Duke had sent him an impersonal, standard message that doesn’t hurt as much as the impersonal, standard, cold message he gets from Tim and Barbara. Unsurprisingly, nothing from Jason.

Bruce had sent him an e-mail saying, “Here is the case file you requested. Happy Birthday. B.” Again, he tries not to take it badly. This is Bruce, after all.

He writes thank you, and while the others leave him on read, Damian replies immediately, asking him if he plans to go to the manor that night. Dick actually hesitates. But, he tells himself, the city needs him. Blüdhaven had been without her protector for too long. He can’t really afford to miss a patrol, and there is the case file Bruce had sent him, that could be helpful in the tracking of a drug ring he thinks might be involved with Black Mask. Those are the practical, logical reasons. Another thing might be that he’s not really comfortable around Bruce at the moment. That, too, should pass with time, he tells himself, and it wasn’t the man’s fault he lost his memories, but he left him, all alone in hostile territory, without a failsafe.

Batman, master of backup plans, didn’t have anything to help his own son in case he became compromised. Looks like him staying alive wasn’t a number one priority for everyone.

He chases away the thoughts and replies that he would love to, but he has too much work in Blüdhaven.

“Is one of your friends with you, at least?” Damian asks.

Dick doesn’t like lying to Damian, but in this case, lying costs nothing, and it will make the kid more at ease. Damian had been worried about him recently. Not that he can’t understand it, he himself had been worried about Damian a lot. He’s glad for his friendship with Jon, glad he made a friend his age. Soon, Damian will not need him anymore. But, for now, Damian tends to worry, so he says, “Yes, I’m seeing some friends tonight.”

Damian seems satisfied with this, and doesn’t press him for more information, probably planning to ask them the next time they see each other. Dick will have to make up something believable by then. Maybe tell him he had something planned with his coworkers, but it got canceled. Yes. He could do that.

But for now, he just takes the case file and gets to work.

March 20, 8:32 PM

It’s still too early to go on patrol. Rain is still pounding on the windows of his apartment. He knows what he will do tonight, he has plans. It’s just that his plans don’t start that early. He could probably take a nap, no, scratch that, he should take a nap, maybe order some food to have a nice dinner that isn’t made out of protein bars.

But it’s his birthday, his family and friends are mad at him, and he’s been working nonstop for the past few weeks. He’s not the drinking type, but he really, really needs a drink. Somewhere crowded and lively, if possible. Luckily, he knows a few places in Blüdhaven where he can have that.

March 20, 9:34 PM

The bar is busy, crowded with people, college students talking loudly next to middle-aged friends next to young adults on a date. It’s a nice place, probably a front, because it is Blüdhaven, after all, but a nice place, nonetheless. Dick sits at the bar and orders. He’s not even had half of his drink when a woman comes and sits next to him. She’s wearing a tight dress and heavy makeup. Her hair is blonde, partially dyed red.

“I couldn’t help noticing you from the other side of the bar,” she says. “I have to say, we might be in ‘heaven, but it’s rare to see an angel all alone.”

He let out a small laugh at that. She puts her hand in her hair with a smile. “Ok, my pickup lines are terrible. I’m usually the one getting hit on, not the other way around.”

He smiles back to her. This entire conversation is fake, but it’s not unpleasant. “And what made you change your mind?”

She leans on the bar. “I don’t know, I wanted to do something new. See…” she moves a little closer. “Today is my birthday.” It’s a lie. He doesn’t know why she would lie about something like this. He almost says it’s his, too, but he stops. It’s harmless, but he doesn't want her to know, for some reason. “And I’m all alone, so I was thinking, maybe a handsome man could buy me a drink? As a gift?”

Oh, so that was why she was lying. To get herself a free drink. Oh, and after all why not. “Excuse me,” he calls when the bartender is looking toward them, “could I get the same thing, and…” he looks at the woman with a questioning glance. “A Bloody Mary for me,” she asks with a smile. She exchanges a look with the bartender. Um. Weird. Maybe they have some sort of arrangement, where she makes gullible men pay for more drinks.

“What’s your name?” he asks, realizing he didn’t know.

“Ava,” she says, and he’s not sure if it’s the truth. It might be a name she’s been using a lot. Being a woman, alone in Blüdhaven, she might give a different name to each man, or rotate through a list. “And you?”

“I’m John,” he says, not really knowing why he’s lying. It just feels the right thing to do.

They talk a bit, after that. He invents himself a life, where he’s an aeronautical engineer, whose oldest sister just had a baby. He’s pretty sure she does the same. It feels familiar, to be someone else. He doesn’t know who Dick Grayson is anymore. He knows even less who Nightwing is, and he’s trying not to think about Agent 37. But he can be John, who has a perfect life, and is talking to Ava, who also has a perfect and totally fake life.

She pleads a little when he says he has to go, John has fake work tomorrow, but Dick Grayson does have real work tomorrow and, more importantly, Nightwing has a patrol to go to, so he pays her another drink for good measure and gives her one of his numbers. She gets out with him to say goodbye, but when he leaves, he doesn’t miss the way she approaches the bartender from before, apparently on a smoke break, and removes the cigarette from his lips to put hers in it instead. He shakes his head. So that was what they were hiding. Guy is using his girlfriend to get more tips. Well, he played into their game, so well done to them.

March 21, 4:57 AM

The night at the bar seems another life away, by now. But, hopefully, the operation he needed to take down had been taken down. He removes his uniform, half debating if he should just go to sleep like this. But, no, he thinks, getting his first aid kit out. He needs to look at the damage he’s taken. An overall view tells him it’s not too bad. His torso is blue and black with bruises, so he can’t rule out broken ribs, but there’s nothing much to do about that other than taking it easy. He patches the cut just above his shoulder, where a bullet grazed him, which doesn’t even require stitches, and puts a cold compress on his right knee for the night. The joint is hot and painful, but he can still move it properly, so he hopes it’s just a flare up of an old wound.

He falls face first into his bed, hoping he will feel better in the morning.

March 21, 7:15 AM

The good news is, his leg does feel better after two hours laying down. The bad news is, he’s pretty sure he has a migraine. He’s not usually particularly prone to migraines, but if the throbbing pain in his head and slight nausea is any indication, that’s what’s going on.

He’ll blame the sleepless nights. For now, he eats a protein bar, takes some ibuprofen, and gets himself ready for work. Maybe tonight, he will do a shorter patrol. Yes. He can do that.

He’ll be fine. Nothing he hasn’t been through before.

It would be nice, still, if he didn’t feel so deeply alone.

March 21, 3:23 PM

The cup of coffee shatters to the ground, spilling everywhere. His coworker lets out a small cry of surprise.

“Shit, sorry, are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, you’re lucky it’s quiet. I’ll get the mop,” she says, a bit annoyed.

He turns toward the customers. They’re two college girls who often come between classes. He’s glad it’s them and not one of the annoying customers. “I’m sorry,” he says, “I’ll remake your order immediately.”

One of them nods. “No problem, are you okay? You’re usually so agile.” He did juggle with cups in front of them a few times.

He smiles at them. A fake smile, like he does so much. “I’m fine, I just need a bit of rest.”

She laughs. “Don’t we all?”

He says nothing to that, and goes back to her coffee. But she’s right. It’s unlike him to just drop something. Maybe he’s more tired than he thinks he is. That, and the headache that hadn’t let up, despite the meds.

He will definitely stick to a short patrol tonight.

March 22, 2:48 AM

He’s shaking, or shivering, maybe, when he makes his way into his apartment. He did help a few people, so he’s glad he went on patrol, despite the exhaustion.

Because that’s what it is, right? Exhaustion, maybe a bit of hypothermia. It had been raining nonstop after all. Nothing a hot shower and a good night’s sleep won’t fix. He’s sure of that.

March 22, 5:17 AM

He’s woken up by the near constant headache becoming absolutely unbearable. He barely has time to throw himself out of the bed and into the toilet before he’s letting go of everything he managed to stomach the day before.

And he’s still shaking. He’s cold, and he can’t seem to stop shaking.

He groans when he pushes himself off the toilet. Okay. It’s time for him to stop being in denial. Something is wrong. He reaches blindly for his first aid kit and checks that the wound on his neck isn’t infected. It isn’t. His torso is still a nice shade of blue, turning toward yellowish, but it’s not worse than it was before, and he hadn’t been throwing up blood. Plus, the bruises are on his torso, not stomach. He hopes that rules out any internal bleeding. He hadn’t been exposed to anything on patrol. That leaves plain old regular illness. Just his luck to catch the flu when the season is almost over, he guesses.

He takes the thermometer in his kit, already expecting to find himself feverish. Except the numbers on the device aren’t at all what he expected.

He blinks. Is it possible to have the flu without any fever?

That’s probably a question he will have to ask himself later. For now, he stays cramped in his bathroom, too tired to even make the way back to the bed.

March 22, 8:05 AM

“You look like shit.”

Dick turns toward his coworker. He kinda feels like shit, too, if he’s being honest. His hands are shaking as he is putting the coffee maker in place.

“Thanks. I have the flu, I think,” he says behind the surgical mask he put on his face.

She takes a step back. “Um. Yeah, no, you’re out of here. I can handle today on my own, go home.”

He blinks. “Are you sure?”

“I am. I don’t want you to throw coffee on me again.”

“That was… it won’t happen again, I swear.” Also, it wasn’t technically on her, just very close.

She doesn’t look impressed. “And, I have an important thing in two days, so I’m not letting you get me sick.”

She’s only half-sincere. He knows her. Her cold exterior is a wall she had created to hide the fact that she actually cares about everything and everyone.

“Thanks,” he says before taking his stuff and going. He feels bad, leaving her to deal with the shop, but she’s right. He will be a hindrance like this.

March 22, 9:15 PM

Going on patrol is a joke. He managed to get some more sleep throughout the day, but he feels like he’s only getting worse. He can barely walk more than a few feet. He knows, for a fact, that if he goes out like this, he will get himself killed. And that’s not in his plans. Been there, done that, and all.

He should probably sleep some more; let whatever disease it is run its course. He should probably eat, too, but that seems impossible at the moment.

Some part of his mind wishes he could call Barbara. She’s never been judgmental when it came to listening to him whine, and talking to her whenever he’s sick or injured always made him feel better. But he can’t call her right now. It’s not the first time he needs her and she’s not ready to talk to him. Not the first time it’s his fault.

How many times can someone fuck up and still be forgiven?

He tries not to think about this. Not right now. Not when he can’t go fly off of rooftops to let go of his feelings.

For now, he will just sleep.

March 23, 10:52 AM

He wakes up unable to breathe, something caught in his throat, a hand, a pill, and he can’t breathe, he will die, he will die in front of Batman, and he can’t do that, he can’t do that, he can’t-

He barely has time to take the trash can he had thoughtfully put next to the bed and dry heave into it, his stomach having been empty for a while.

His hands can barely hold the can. The sheets are drenched with sweat, but his thermometer stubbornly still shows the same result. It hurts to think. He knows today will be spent doing nothing. He thinks maybe he should have felt better, by now, at least a little. Instead, he only feels himself getting worse.

March 23, 4:21 PM

There is something really wrong, he thinks as his thermometer still displays the same number. An infection this bad wouldn’t come without fever. He knows his body. And this is not normal.

Besides, his symptoms don’t really look like a typical virus. So, that leaves the possibility of poisoning. He doesn’t remember any moment when he was out as Nightwing where he could have been poisoned, but with this kind of job… there is no way to tell, really.

He stands to get his testing kit, only to immediately fall down.

Um.

Great.

Slowly, he gets up to his hands and knees to get his testing kit. It’s only a basic one, for the poisons and toxins they are the most accustomed to, but it might do the trick. If not… he’ll see what he’ll do then.

Despite his shaking hand, he manages to draw blood. He does nick his arm several times, and needs a bigger band aid than he normally would have, but he manages to get some of his blood.

And then he waits. And hopes it’s nothing he can’t deal with himself.

Black spots are dancing in front of his eyes when he finally sees the result. And it almost makes him cry with frustration.

Because it’s clean.

His blood is clean.

He’s dehydrated, a bit hypoglycemic, but there are none of the toxins recorded in his database in his system.

Which means two things: it’s not something he knows, or it’s undetectable.

He closes his eyes to think for a second or two. He needs to go somewhere with a better analyzer, or a better database. Possibly both.

He has several choices:

The Justice League Watchtower. He’s not sure if he still has clearance, and not sure how he will get there in the first place.

Titan Tower. Tempting, he’s not going to lie. But the idea of traveling to San Francisco now, in the state he’s in, seems like a bad idea. He could have maybe done the trip two days ago when he first realized something was wrong. He’s stupid. The Titans might be cold now, they might need some time to forgive him, but they wouldn’t deny him help. At least, he hopes.

Spyral headquarters. Yeah. That would be a huge no.

Which leaves… the Batcave. It’s not far, he can make the trip. He has clearance, and with a little luck he can be in and out without meeting anyone. That sounds doable. Not safe - not by a long shot - but doable.

Batcave it is, he decides, hoping he won’t regret the decision.

March 23, 6:41 PM

He’s made safer rides. Faster ones, too. But he’s finally in the cave. Now he just has to find out what is wrong with him, so he can fix it. And if the Batcomputer doesn’t give him anything, he’ll go to the free clinic. He hasn’t seen Leslie much since he came back, but he knows she’s a professional. If she has things to say to him, she will do so after he’s better. And she might even be on his side if he tries to hide whatever this is from Bruce.

But maybe it won’t come to that. Maybe the Batcomputer will have a match, and maybe even an antidote ready. It’s still early. With luck, he might not run into anybody.

“Dick?”

He clenches his hand on the computer desk. When has he ever been lucky?

“What are you doing here, chum?”

He hates that Bruce talks to him like this. Like everything is fine. Like he hadn’t beaten him up in this very cave.

Bruce makes a step toward him. “Should I ask Alfred to make you a plate for dinner? Tim should be arriving soon, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

Dick almost laughs, because, yeah, are you sure about that? But he doesn’t have the energy to fight, and if Tim is coming, that means he’s on a timer.

He stands, hoping Bruce doesn’t notice the way he pushes his still trembling arm on the desk to do so, intending to tell Bruce he doesn’t have time, that he was on his way out, but no sound comes out of his mouth.

He knows the words. He knows what he wants to say. And he knows his vocal cords work. He just can’t get the words out for some reason.

“Chum? What’s wrong?”

What isn’t wrong? he wants to ask. Why are you acting like everything is fine when it isn’t? Does what happened mean so little to you? Do I mean so little to you?

But his mouth opens, and no sound gets out.

“Why don’t you sit back down?” Bruce asks, and maybe he should, because the world is spinning and the edge of his vision is receding, and there is a noise, somewhere, of a bike, but it seems so close and so far away at the same time, and it’s Tim and Tim doesn’t want to see him, and he should go, and-

March 23, 6:58 PM

“Dick? Can you hear me?”

He’s on the floor in the cave. There is something beneath his head. He groans, or at least he thinks he does. Bruce is here, and Tim, too. He should probably go, but he can’t move.

“You had a seizure,” Bruce says, and that explains why he’s on the ground. “Leslie is on her way, but can you tell me anything you remember that might have caused this?”

He knows what might have caused this. He’s been sick, or poisoned, or something, except he doesn’t know with what, and that was why he was here. He doesn’t even know when-

Wait. That night at the bar. The woman. Ava. She exchanged a look with the bartender, and he thought it was because they had a deal to make him pay a bit more than his share. What if it was another kind of deal? What if they were actually trying to poison him?

He doesn’t want to know what Bruce will say when he finds out.

Nonetheless, now that he’s in that situation, unable to move on the cave floor, he should probably tell Bruce.

But again, when he opens his mouth, he can’t speak. He can’t speak and he can’t move, and suddenly he can’t breathe, and once again, there is a hand on his face, and he’s going to die, again, in front of Bruce.

And he can’t. He can’t fail again.

He wants to say he’s sorry, but he can’t. He hopes his eyes transmit the message.

He hopes Bruce sees anything but fear.

March 23, 7:35 PM

“-injured, but nothing that could-”

“-analyzing something on the Batcomputer, maybe-”

“-didn’t he ask for help earlier?”

“Why do you think, Drake?”

Damian snapping takes Dick back to reality. He’s still in the cave in the medical area. And he can’t move. He’s not restrained, merely lightly strapped to the cot so that he won’t fall, but he can’t move a finger. He can’t go to Damian, can’t help the kid calm down.

There is a heart monitor beeping somewhere, and an uncomfortable, if not outright painful thing down his throat. It’s not a pill, he tries to remember. It doesn’t feel like a pill. It’s a respirator.

He’s awake, but he can’t breathe on his own. He tries not to panic, because that would only make things worse. He can’t move. Even his eyes are static, giving him a small curtain of the area of the cave he’s in. His body, the thing he trusts the most, has betrayed him. But panicking will only make everything worse. So, he tries not to panic. Instead, he focuses on the voices.

“Enough,” someone, Batman, his mind supplies, says. “Now is not the time for that.” And Dick wants to laugh, because it’s never the time for that. There is always something more urgent, that means they will bury everything and keep going. And he’s always been so good at this. Except for the few times when he wasn’t.

Well, right now, the more urgent thing seems to be saving his life, so he doesn’t really have a right to complain.

“Oracle,” he says, “can you access his cowl footage?”

Again, Dick doesn’t know if he should cry or laugh. He agreed for Barbara to have access to his cowl footage for cases like this, but he knows she won’t find anything on it. Not if his suspicions are true.

“Hood?”

“I’m on my way to his place,” comes Jason’s modulated voice. “I still have a spare key, if he didn’t change the lock.”

That’s right. Jason’s spare key. He had given him when he had just started warming up to the family “in case you ever need a place to crash.” A way to make up for a phone number that was once given but never useful. A way to mend a broken relationship.

And didn’t that go well.

“Take his suit, and anything you deem useful, but remember not to touch anything, we don’t know how he’s been poisoned.”

“Or if he’s been poisoned,” Tim points out. “It might be something completely natural.”

He can hear Bruce letting out a long sigh. “I’ll have the CT scan and MRI ready. His blood is clean, but we might do a spinal tap depending on the results.”

“Wait, doesn’t he have, like, nanotech in his brain? Is an MRI safe?” Steph asks, and for the first time he realizes she’s here.

Already, he feels himself straying away from awareness, and the voices become distant.

“… don’t think Spyral… such an obvious weakness.”

“We will have to risk it.”

Steph replies something, but Dick never quite finds out what it is.

March 24, 2:47 AM

Dick wakes up, so he imagines the MRI didn’t fry his brain. Or didn’t fry it more than it is. Because waking up is a big word for what happens. He still can’t move. At all. But he can feel, and someone is holding his hand.

It takes him more time that he’s proud to admit to realize this is Damian, and, despite everything, despite the situation he’s in, his first thought is that Damian should be asleep. He has school tomorrow. Or does he? Dick hadn’t been really good with tracking days, lately.

“You will be fine,” Damian says, voice like steel. There is no possible alternative. He’s not unlike his father, in that regard. Dick will be okay. If not, it’s a failure on his part. But he knows Damian, surprisingly, isn’t as harsh with failure as Bruce is. “Father will find what happened to you, and save you. And you will push through. He is Batman,” Damian leans on the bed, to whisper like a secret, “and so are you.”

And, there it is. Unwavering faith. Damian’s strategy against fear. He wants to squeeze his hand back, to tell him everything is going to be fine, that it’s probably nothing, some kind of poison, nothing he hadn’t seen before. That it would take more than that to take him out, to take him away from Damian.

But he’s not so sure about that, now. It had been very easy, easier than he feels comfortable to admit, for the universe to split Damian and him. The heretic swinging a giant sword at Damian’s heart, when Dick had been there, unable to stop it. It was all it took.

It had been so easy. Just like whatever happened to him had been so easy to inflict. Just one moment of inattention. Just one miserable moment of inattention, and now he’s completely paralyzed. Dependent on others to save him. He can’t even hold Damian’s hand back.

But his thoughts are interrupted by a noise from the Batcomputer. Damian jumps a little, perhaps he was starting to fall asleep, and turns toward the computer. The warmth in Dick’s hand disappears, and he’s not proud of it, but he would probably have whined if he could. He feels like this was the first gentle touch he’s had in weeks, and maybe it is, and now Damian is just gone to see whatever is happening.

“Father,” he hears a moment later and he assumes he’s on comm. “Yes, there is an unfamiliar substance in his spinal fluid.”

That grabs Dick’s attention. So, they had done a spinal tap after all. And if there is something… there is progress. They will find what’s wrong, and he will be able to get out of here.

Although, he knows it won’t be as simple. He’s probably looking at a long recovery, and Bruce might not let him go so soon.

Unless he does. Unless he sends him away again.

Maybe Dick shouldn’t have come to the cave. Maybe he should have tried to make the trip to the Watchtower or Titan Tower instead.

“Not something that should be there, that’s for sure,” Damian’s voice says, having him refocus on the child. “But it’s not in any databases.”

Bruce must reply something, because Damian makes a sound of acknowledgement.

He half-expects Damian to come back, half-hopes he will come back, but the warmth of Daman’s hand is definitely lost.

Without it, without anything to focus on but the limited view he has of the cave, Dick feels himself drifting back into unconsciousness.

March 24, 8:22 AM

“Superman has been made aware and is looking into this compound.” Bruce’s voice is the first thing Dick hears when he emerges from slumber.

He hears Steph sigh. “Developing an anti-poison from scratch could take ages.”

“And we don’t know how much time Dick has,” Tim finishes for her, sounding defeated.

“I could look over the mask footage again,” Barbara offers, her Oracle voice familiar and comforting despite everything. “But there was nothing of importance the first two times I saw it, Steph and Duke saw nothing, either. And Cass has seen nothing usual in Blüdhaven tonight.”

He hears Jason curse, and something breaks in a corner of the cave. “His apartment gave us nothing. The mask footage gave us nothing. We’ve tested this compound in all our databases, and-”

“Not all of them.”

This is Damian’s voice. So small, like he’s thinking, or ready to admit something he’s not proud of.

“Excuse me?” Jason asks.

“Not all our databases. Grandfather has an extensive library of poisons and the knowledge to go with it. Probably more than the JLA databases or the Batcomputer.”

“Oh, well, yes sure,” Tim says. “Let’s just call Ra’s and ask him for help. What could go wrong?”

He hears Damian take a breath, ready to reply something, but Steph takes the situation into her hands. “Damian… Tim is right. Even if he was willing to help, which I doubt, we don’t exactly have a direct line to Ra’s, do we?”

There is a silence after that, and he doesn’t know what is on Damian’s face, but the next sound he hears is Steph asking in a loud voice, “You have a direct line to Ra’s?!”

“Well,” Damian sounds embarrassed, “not to him, per se.”

Bruce sighs. “You have a way to contact Talia.” It’s not a question.

Damian doesn’t say anything to that, which is confirmation enough. Somewhere on the other side of Dick, Jason curses again.

“Last time I checked,” Damian says, “there were no rules against having contact with my mother.”

“Will you tell me how to contact her?” Bruce asks. “Or at least, let me talk to her?”

And because it’s Damian, and he’s nothing if not loyal, he says, “No. I will contact her on my own and get the information we want.”

Dick would have laughed if he could. He can perfectly imagine the situation. Wayne stubbornness hitting Wayne stubbornness. There is a short silence where even he can feel the tension in the cave, before Bruce gives in. “Phone only,” he still orders.

“Phone only,” Damian agrees.

March 24, 9:36 AM

A hand touching him is what wakes Dick up. This is unsettling, even more so because he doesn’t remember actually falling asleep.

From his limited vision, he can see that it’s Alfred, moving his articulations. He knows this is necessary, otherwise he’s exposing himself to all sorts of complications, and the movements are both gentle and professional, but it’s still uncomfortable.

“My dear boy, what have you gotten yourself into?” Alfred says, and there is something reassuring in hearing him talk. And that way, Dick knows perfectly where he is.

He moves, and Dick realizes he has apparently finished with his limbs, and starts to put drops in his eyes. The feeling is heavenly. With everything, he hadn’t realized how dry his eyes were.

“Sometimes, I feel like all of you are trying to send me to an early grave.”

He moves, and Dick can feel a washcloth on his face. But it’s clear this is not as much a medical act as an emotional one. “I see you coming back to us, only for the world to try to take you again.”

I’m sorry, Dick wants to say. He wants to apologize over and over for everything. For Spyral. For his mistake at the bar. But he can’t.

“When you’re better,” Alfred promises, “I’ll make sure to feed you and heal these bruises. No matter what happens between us, it’s my duty, since you first set foot in this manor.”

“Pennyworth.”

Damian’s voice seems to distract Alfred, and the hand on Dick’s face disappears.

“How is he?” Damian asks, unsure.

“No change so far, I’m afraid.”

There is a short silence before he adds, “But that also means he’s not getting worse.”

“Is he in pain?” Damian asks again.

“Hard to tell. But I made sure he’s as comfortable as possible, if he’s conscious, that is.”

Damian makes a noise of approval. It is true that Dick isn’t in pain. He doesn’t know what is in the IV he can feel in his arm, but he has the certainty that Alfred did everything in his power to spare him as much as possible.

“Have you managed to contact your mother?” Alfred asks.

“Yes,” is Damian’s immediate answer. “That’s what I came to tell you. Gather everyone.”

March 24, 10:27 AM

“What do you mean it’s not dangerous? Clearly something is wrong with him.”

Tim seems annoyed, and to be honest, Dick is a little annoyed too. He hoped this mysterious compound would be the solution to his immobility.

“What I mean is that this is not something that is used as a poison for humans in the League, and such small quantities should be harmless to a standard human brain. It is used to poison computer systems and robots.”

There is a heavy silence in the cave, and Dick can guess everyone is thinking the same thing he is.

“So, Hypnos? Hypnos is killing him?” Tim finally says. “And given the rarity of this molecule, it’s unlikely he swallowed it by accident. Someone had been targeting him.”

Dick takes a second to let that sink in. Someone had been targeting Agent 37. Not Nightwing, not even Dick Grayson, but specifically Agent 37.

“This is an assassination attempt, targeting Spyral agents in particular,” Bruce says, mirroring his thoughts. “I’ll need to make some calls.”

“Anything to look out for while I’m on patrol today?” he hears Duke say.

“You’re going on patrol?” Steph asks.

There are a few seconds of silence when Dick can imagine all eyes are turned toward Duke.

“I mean, yeah,” he finally says. “I thought-”

“When was the last time you slept?” Tim asks and Dick would probably have laughed if he could.

“Look, I was just thinking-”

Bruce sighs loudly, cutting Duke off. “All of you, get some rest. There is no point in exhausting ourselves until we have a lead.”

Dick’s body seems to be listening to the orders as well, because he barely hears the protestations.

March 24, 2:42 PM

“I’m still mad at you, you know.”

Dick wakes up to Tim’s voice. Shouldn’t he be resting?

“And I know I shouldn’t be in the cave, especially since I’m the one who told Duke to rest, but I couldn’t sleep, and I’m sure Bruce is working somewhere,” he says, as if reading Dick’s mind. But it’s true. Bruce is probably working somewhere. Dick would be, too, if their roles were reversed.

“But you? You go away, you make us all think you-” he stops, takes a sharp breath. “And then you come back, and you won’t see us, and when you come to the cave this happens? That’s just…”

Another breath.

You were the ones who didn’t want to see me, Dick wants to say. You were the ones who couldn’t stand to be near me.

But is that true? Sure, Tim was mad, furious, even, when he came back. He felt understandably betrayed. But he never said he couldn’t stand being with Dick. He never said fixing their relationship was impossible.

Bruce’s words from what seems like an eternity ago cross his mind.

“Tim should be arriving soon, I’m sure he will be happy to see you.”

Maybe there was some truth to the statement. Maybe, just maybe, with time and effort, they could fix things up.

Maybe there is still hope for them.

(And isn’t that what Robin is about, after all? Hope?)

“You know, when I was a kid, you were unbreakable, infallible. B was, as well, but not in the same way you were. You were strong, charismatic, undefeated, and most of all, you trusted me. You treated me as an equal. And then… and then I grew up. And I realized you weren’t as foolproof as I thought you were. And I realized you didn’t trust me as much as I thought you did.”

He sounds tired. Dick is tired, too, even if he’s been sleeping a lot lately. He’s tired of everything falling on them, one thing after another. But he did trust Tim. He did treat him as equal.

“Because that’s what it falls down to, right? Trust. You trusted me enough to stop me from being Robin, but not enough to let me know you weren’t dead?”

“What are you doing down here?”

That is Steph’s voice, and Dick can hear her walking down the stairs. Tim moves, and soon their voices calm down to whispers.

March 24, 3:57 PM

“-but I should have known, so, really, it’s on me here, Bruce, isn’t it?”

Um. Barbara seems upset. He should probably do something about it. Find out what’s going on, how he can help. Bring a blanket and ice cream. Except he can’t move, and Barbara is still mad at him.

“I can’t believe all this time you said nothing. Or, yeah, actually, I can believe it. I just can’t believe I’ve been so naïve I didn’t see it. And to say I spent so long restoring the footage, thinking it was something that might be related to Dick’s condition, and it was this? You could have at least told me you deleted it. Why did you even protect it so much?”

“It was confidential information-”

“As opposed to everything else that is happening in this cave? No, I don’t think you hid it from outside hackers. I think you tried to hide it from us, from me. Well, newsflash, Bruce, when it comes to computers, I’m better than-”

“Damn it, Barbara!” There is the sound of something heavy falling and Dick feels a twist in his guts despite himself. He always had this reaction to hearing Bruce yell, a mix between fear, shame, and anger, but this had become worse since… Since. “Do you want to know why I deleted the footage? You were right, I wasn’t worried about someone hacking in. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you either. I was hiding it from myself.”

“That is-”

“I spent hours, looking at that footage, over and over again, wondering if I did the right thing, until I decided to delete it in a way I couldn’t reverse. You’re right. You’re better than me when it comes to computers. Because I wouldn’t have been able to restore this footage. I made sure of it.”

There is some silence before Barbara says, her voice like icy steel. “Well, you can stop asking yourself that. I have the answer. You didn’t do the right thing.”

Bruce seems ready to answer, but a ping in the computer distracts him.

“Am I interrupting something?” says a voice Dick would recognize anywhere. He would probably also be choking with surprise if he could. Because of all people, Bruce called Midnighter?

“You’re not,” Bruce says. “We need your help. We think someone is targeting Spyral’s agents.”

“Then you should probably talk to Spyral, not to me. Because I don’t really see why I would help.”

“We know you’re not on friendly terms with Spyral-”

“That’s one way to put it.”

“But,” Bruce moves his chair, and Dick guesses Midnighter can now see him. “We also know you carry affection for my son.”

There is a silence, Midnighter assessing the situation, before he simply says, “That’s also one way to put it.”

“Someone poisoned him, using the hypnos as a tool-” Dick can distinctly hear Midnigher muttering, “Of fucking course.” “-And an enemy of Spyral might know more than Spyral themselves.”

“Well, sorry to disappoint, I haven’t heard anything. But I do carry affection for him, as you put it. Both on a personal and strategic level, I wouldn’t want for him to die. I’ll look into it.”

“That would be appreciated.”

“And you, what are you going to do?”

Bruce seems to think for a moment, gauging what is safe to say and what isn’t. “I will meet with someone who might know more about this poison than I do.”

“And who would that be?” Midnighter asks, not one to leave information.

“My ex-lover.” Bruce says, in a tone that makes it clear it’s all the information he’s willing to tell.

“Oooh, juicy,” says Midnighter, apparently understanding he’s not going to get much more. “Well, tell him not to die before I kill him and all that. I’ll contact you if I find anything.”

The feed cuts, and it’s just Bruce and Dick.

There are a few minutes of silence, where Dick thinks maybe Bruce is working on something, or maybe he left stealthily, but then he hears something break. Bruce paces around in the cave to the training area, and it almost baffles Dick how similar his anger and frustration is to Jason’s.

There are some more noises, after that, that Dick just leaves into the background of his mind, until Bruce comes back, his breathing heavy. He stops in front of the cot.

“I really made a mess, didn’t I?” he asks.

Dick doesn’t reply. He can’t, but he probably wouldn’t if he wanted to. It’s true, and he doesn’t know if he can forgive Bruce and keep going. But he wants to.

“I don’t know how to fix this.” He’s not just talking about the paralysis and they both know it. “I just… it seemed the best decision at the moment.”

It wasn’t, as Barbara pointed out. Dick spent dozens of nights thinking how things could have gone differently. He would bet Bruce did, too.

He doesn’t know how to fix things. With Bruce, with Tim, Jason, and Barbara.

He’s just so, so, so tired.

March 25, 0:12 AM

“-vitals have been tanking since a few hours ago. We don’t have time to-”

“-Mother, but-”

“-can’t make things any worse.”

“We have to try. Give me the syringe.”

March 25, 8:43 AM

Something is down his throat. He felt the respirator for the last day, but now it’s even more present he needs it out. Now.

“He’s fighting it,” someone - Alfred? - says from above him.

And then he’s gone again.

March 25, 1:04 PM

Dick blinks.

It takes him a few minutes to realize what just happened. The respirator is gone, replaced by a simple mask, and, while focusing on his limbs gives him nothing, he can blink.

That is progress, even if now that he can breathe and blink, he feels the urge to run and fly away. The need for movement, that left him strangely alone the last day, is back, and he can feel how bad the recovery will be.

“Grayson?” says a voice from somewhere, and Damian appears in front of him.

“Are you awake? Blink once for yes.”

Dick slowly blinks.

“Are you… do you know who I am, once for yes, twice for no.”

Of course, he knows who Damian is. How could he forget? He blinks and the smile on Damian’s face almost makes everything that happened in the last few days’ worth it.

“I’m going to get Pennyworth.” Damian says and with that he’s gone.

Alfred comes in a few minutes later to ask him some standard neurological questions, as well as assessing his pain level.

Dick is already exhausted when Bruce comes in. He feels his throat tighten up. He doesn’t feel like he can deal with Bruce, right now.

But the man sits next to him, and asks in a professional, Batman voice. “Do you know what happened to you?”

Dick blinks once.

“You were poisoned,” Bruce explains anyway. “We think the assassin was targeting you for your involvement with Spyral. Do you have an idea of when it could have happened or who could have poisoned you?”

Dick blinks once.

“Did it happen as Nightwing?”

Dick blinks twice.

“As Dick Grayson specifically?”

Again, Dick blinks two times. Dick Grayson wasn’t the target. He was in the bar alone, and he didn’t give his real name.

“I’m going to run you through a series of dates. Blinks twice if it’s not the one you have suspicion on, once if it is.”

Dick blinks twice for all the dates, until the 20th.

“He told me he was with friends that night,” Damian interjects, and Dick curses the small lie. He blinks two times.

“You weren’t with friends, then?” Bruce asks. Dick blinks. Damian makes a small sound of disapproval. Dick will have to apologize later.

“Then where were you?” Bruce asks, knowing fully Dick can’t answer that kind of question.

“We can ask Miss Barbara to track his movement on that day with the street cameras,” Alfred offers. “Do you think that would work?” he asks Dick.

Dick blinks. He didn’t specifically avoid the cameras, so she will probably find him.

“Have you had symptoms since the 20th?” Bruce asks.

Shamefully, Dick blinks once.

“Then why didn’t you come to the cave immediately?” he asks, again, knowing Dick can’t answer. From the corner of his vision, he can see Damian sending daggers with his eyes.

“I’m sure Master Dick had a good reason to do so,” Alfred says. “Now, if you would excuse me, I would like to tend to him, in private.”

This is a way to end the conversation, Bruce and Damian aren’t fooled, but they still leave him to Alfred.

“I’m glad to see you responding,” Alfred says, and he’s the first person to actually say it, which warms Dick’s heart a little. “I have to say, I would have preferred not having to rely on a solution offered by Miss Al Ghul, but it looks like she saved your life.”

Dick blinks once. He’s glad, too, even if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Being in debt to Talia isn’t something he wanted to be. And then there is also the fact that Bruce involved Midnighter. The man helped him on more than one occasion, and vice versa, but to think they’re unconditional allies would be a dangerous misconception.

He’s exhausted again by the time Alfred has finished taking care of him, his eyes closing by themselves.

There is a remnant of fear, something in the back of his mind telling him that if he sleeps, he might wake up unable to even move his eyes again. Alfred, smart as usual, seems to notice it, and he bends down to say, “Sleep, dear boy, we will still be here when you wake up.”

So, Dick sleeps.

March 25, 5:39 PM

“Hey. You’re awake?”

Dick blinks once. Jason’s face appears in front of him, soon followed by two pieces of paper with pictures of Ava and the bartender on them.

“Recognize them?”

Dick blinks.

“You think they’re the people who poisoned you?”

He blinks again.

“Yeah, that’s what we think, too. Babs retraced your steps and Tim and Cass went to interrogate people - in broad daylight, mind you - to get their description. Our new friend Midnighter – who’s great, you’ve met great people while you were out there being a lying asshole - found something corresponding to the description. Turns out they are assassins who call themselves Hades and Persephone, which is about as lame as it gets. They tried to give the poison to everyone corresponding to your vague description for months, knowing it would only react with someone who has hypnos. They flew the second they realized we were on to them, and we will have to catch them if we want some info on the contractor. Which is really what’s important here.”

He smirks. “So, how does it feel to be almost killed by people who call themselves the most overused mythological names of the last decade?”

Dick sends him an unimpressed look and Jason laughs some more. It feels nice, hearing Jason’s laugh, being teased, even if he doesn’t forget the comment he made earlier. He didn’t think it would happen again.

“I won’t forgive you, or Bruce,” Jason says, now out of his field of view and he knows whatever they had before is over. “But all in all, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

March 25, 7:12 PM

His next visitor is Barbara. She moves to his cot just as he’s practicing visualizing his fingers and trying to move them.

“Hey,” she says in a low voice. He blinks her a greeting.

“We need to talk.” Now might not be the best time, but he blinks again. If she wants to talk now, it’s important.

“I wasn’t looking for it, but I saw the feed of the cave from the day the crime syndicate captured you.”

He closes his eyes and takes a breath as deep as he can. He had expected it from the conversation he overheard between Bruce and her. But still. She knows. He knew the secret wouldn’t be kept forever, not with a family of detectives. He’s glad it’s Barbara and not Jason, or Tim or worse, Damian who found the video.

“Do you want me to tell Tim and Jason?” she asks.

He blinks two times. This is not her story to tell.

“Ok,” she says, in a soft voice. “I’m still… I don’t know how to feel yet. But, you know you don’t have to forgive him, right?”

He blinks once. He knows.

“But you will anyway,” she finishes for him. “That’s who you are.”

She let out an annoyed and tired breath.

“Do you… if staying here is difficult, I could arrange for you to stay at the clinic while you recover, now that we have an antidote.”

He thinks about it. Blinks one time.

He thinks about Bruce, so distressed about the mess of his own making. He thinks about Tim, who was willing to try, and he thinks about Jason.

All in all, I’m glad you’re not dead. As far as he will go with affection.

He thinks of Damian’s smile, of Alfred’s care.

He blinks a second time.

Note: I hope you enjoyed! Many thanks to @ohmytoddhewitt for beta reading!

#dc #batfam #fanfiction #my writing #dick grayson #hurt/comfort #assassination

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