#i miss my smog
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dick took me to metropolis for our yearly scheduled one day of sunlight and i immediately burned to a crisp
#i miss my smog#everything hurts#gotham city#dc gotham city#dc gotham#tim drake#dc comics#bruce wayne#dc robin#dc#dcu#batman#timothy drake#batfam#dc tim drake#dick grayson#dick grayson wayne#richard grayson#metropolis#dc metropolis
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There’s no way Jayce came out of the fucking Infection Dimension perfectly healthy except for his leg (and his mental health)
He had an open wound on his back before he even went in!! and then the one we saw on his leg! (which was broken in fucking half!!) like did y’all see how thick the fog was?? He was breathing that shit in for months!! That man was probably dying!!!
#we should have seen him take a pause in his speech to cough for like thirty minutes#what kind of fucked up cocktail of gas was in that fog bro#like The Gray and every other drug smog gas from the factory’s mixed together with fucking magic#how much crazier would the Jayvik parallels be if Jayce had coughed up blood at some point#still crying over how much weight he lost#my baby…#did he even get to see his mom before he and Vik disappeared?#did he get to hug her?#tell her he was sorry and that he loved her?#did she get to make him his first hot meal in months?#did she hold him while he cried?#did she even know he was back before he was gone again?#imagine being Ximena and your son shows up at your door after being missing for months over half a year#and he’s lost weight his hair is grown and unkempt and he’s covered in scars and he has a brace on his leg which is clearly injured#and he cries in your arms when you hug him like he hasn’t since he was seven#and you tell him to come in to eat to tell you what happened and if he’s okay and he tries but none of it really makes since to you except#the grief. the grief you can understand you lost your partner after all you know what that kind of grief looks like#and after you’ve feed him and held him and took care of him he leaves again to try and save his partner and then you never see him again#and you’ll never know what happened to him and his partner#but all you can hope for was that he was able to save him and where ever they are their together#I am spiraling over Ximena Talis right now in the tags of my mostly jokey post#I love the Talis’ so much#jayce talis#ximena talis#I’m tagging her because of the tags#it is 11 at night I have a cold and I am spiraling about the Talis’ right now#and just like Jayce should have been I am coughing like there’s no tomorrow
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realized I'm in a constant state of "Overwhelmed" because today I left my room and immediately got asked to do more than 1 thing for others and it sent me into legitimate fight or flight
have you ever been so burnt out that the thought of doing anything causes your ashes to light on fire all over again
#shea muses aloud#more of a vent but not really a vent#im just so tired but i hardly do anything anymore#i havent seen friends in ages#i just work and then get too exhausted from the toll on my body and hibernate#thats not a way to live goddamn#i feel like a reanimated corpse instead#i got asked what im doing today and was like 'i gotta work on job apps' and the response was 'ok good that means we can go shopping today'#followed directly by a different ask of 'hey i need you to make some boxes for me'#followed directly by the knowledge that i had missed a doctor's appointment and that im out of meds#and that i have work tomorrow and am not prepared#everything feels like smog in my lungs that i cant cough up#i used to be able to do so much#but then again#health problems and chronic pain will do that to a mfer
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So, anyway, I say as though we are mid-conversation, and you're not just being invited into this conversation mid-thought. One of my editors phoned me today to check in with a file I'd sent over. (<3)
The conversation can be surmised as, "This feels like something you would write, but it's juuuust off enough I'm phoning to make sure this is an intentional stylistic choice you have made. Also, are you concussed/have you been taken over by the Borg because ummm."
They explained that certain sentences were very fractured and abrupt, which is not my style at all, and I was like, huh, weird... And then we went through some examples, and you know that meme going around, the "he would not fucking say that" meme?
Yeah. That's what I experienced except with myself because I would not fucking say that. Why would I break up a sentence like that? Why would I make them so short? It reads like bullet points. Wtf.
Anyway. Turns out Grammarly and Pro-Writing-Aid were having an AI war in my manuscript files, and the "suggestions" are no longer just suggestions because the AI was ignoring my "decline" every time it made a silly suggestion. (This may have been a conflict between the different software. I don't know.)
It is, to put it bluntly, a total butchery of my style and writing voice. My editor is doing surgery, removing all the unnecessary full stops and stitching my sentences back together to give them back their flow. Meanwhile, I'm over here feeling like Don Corleone, gesturing at my manuscript like:
ID: a gif of Don Corleone from the Godfather emoting despair as he says, "Look how they massacred my boy."
Fearing that it wasn't just this one manuscript, I've spent the whole night going through everything I've worked on recently, and yep. Yeeeep. Any file where I've not had the editing software turned off is a shit show. It's fine; it's all salvageable if annoying to deal with. But the reason I come to you now, on the day of my daughter's wedding, is to share this absolute gem of a fuck up with you all.
This is a sentence from a Batman fic I've been tinkering with to keep the brain weasels happy. This is what it is supposed to read as:
"It was quite the feat, considering Gotham was mostly made up of smog and tear gas."
This is what the AI changed it to:
"It was quite the feat. Considering Gotham was mostly made up. Of tear gas. And Smaug."
Absolute non-sensical sentence structure aside, SMAUG. FUCKING SMAUG. What was the AI doing? Apart from trying to write a Batman x Hobbit crossover??? Is this what happens when you force Grammarly to ignore the words "Batman Muppet threesome?"
Did I make it sentient??? Is it finally rebelling? Was Brucie Wayne being Miss Piggy and Kermit's side piece too much???? What have I wrought?
Anyway. Double-check your work. The grammar software is getting sillier every day.
#autocorrect writes the plot#I uninstalled both from my work account#the enshittification of this type of software through the integration of AI has made them untenable to use#not even for the lulz
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New Gotham Rouge
Okay, in Danny's defense, it sounds like a very good idea when he thought about it. Danny is currently laying on top of the clocktower looking at the smog filled sky. A few stars can be seen occasionally while he is staring and thinking about his decision.
When Danny is outed as Phantom. He ran away as his parents tried to capture and cut him open. He hid in a nearby cave for a few days as he thought of what to do when he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Let's fake his own death!
Danny stole a few parts and materials around Amity Park and made a makeshift bomb and rushed towards the GIW base. He freed all the ghosts and made a cinematic scene of exploding himself thus taking the whole building with him.
Danny also sends the ghost to set up a few bombs in his house after making sure Jazz, Sam and Tucker are not there. Just as he 'exploded' himself, the house also exploded destroying the portal and all the remaining research paper about anything ghost related.
Danny dove into the ground as the explosion distracted everyone and chose one direction to fly towards. A few hours later, he found himself in Gotham and surprisingly there is a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham. He flies around invisible while looking for a place to stay and he lands on the clocktower to rest after flying for so long.
Now, Danny doesn't know what he should do because he realizes one key component in staying alive for him. Obsession. Contrary to popular belief (Sam), his obsession is not protection. It is love. Love as in any act of love will fulfill his obsession. Him protecting his town is an act of love towards his town people. Him loving and studying space is an act of love towards himself. Him not taking revenge against his family and people that wrong him is an act of love towards humanity.
So, long story short, he needs to find a way to fulfill his obsession. He is laying on top of the clocktower and suddenly a very good idea comes into his mind.
A few weeks later
-Batcave-
Dick: Are you still searching for the glitter thief?
Tim: Yes. And it's driving me insane how little clue there is of this thief. I even tried asking Selina and even she is impressed by this thief's MO.
Steph: Are you sure you need to be stressing about this thief? It's probably a group of kids stealing glitters just because they can.
Tim: Are you telling me a group of kids can do a heist better than Selina? And this thief or group of thieves for some reason only stole biodegradable paint and glitters from all across the city without us finding where they store them? There must be something I am missing.
Suddenly, an alert appears at the batcomputer and catches everyone's attention. A live broadcast is showing Joker standing in front of a switch as Commissioner Gordon hanging from a rope on top of a pool of acid. Every single batfam suits up and rushes into Gotham to find the Joker before anything can happen.
Joker: Hahahaha. Good evening Gotham and Bats! Today, I have a dear friend of yours playing my game. In front of me is a switch to activate a time bomb that will explode a whole district if not dismantled. You have 20 minutes to dismantle the bomb and with every minute that passes, I will slowly lower the Commissioner into the pool of acid.
Joker then walks slowly towards the switch and flips it.
Joker: Your time starts now! HAHAHAHAHAHA!
Batman and the crew rushes towards Gotham as they turn Gotham upside down for the bomb. 5 minutes passed and they become desperate enough that they even roped in some of the rogues like Penguin, Harley, Ivy and Croc. But no matter what they do, they can't find the bomb.
Just as the last minute passes, everyone expects a big explosion engulfing Gotham. Except there is no sound at all. In fact, it is eerily quiet. Everyone turns on Joker live broadcast to see even the man is confused. He turns around and sees Gordon having his feet inside the pool of acid like nothing is happening.
Suddenly a giggle appears. Everyone that hears the giggles starts to get goosebumps as suddenly, a kid with a half clown facemask at the bottom of his face, a green leather jacket, black jeans and white hair appears behind Joker. His hands are holding his stomach as his giggles turn into laughter that is eerily similar to Joker.
???:Hello everyone. I am Trickster. And I am here to crash the party.
Everyone: ????
Trickster: Hehehe, it's so funny to see everyone's confused expression. But no worries I am here to have fun. See, I even have your toys with me.
The Trickster phases his hand into his body and pulls out a very familiar brick. He throws it to Joker and the Joker runs away screaming and trips on his feet falling down the stairs.
The Trickster: Hahahahaha. Do you see his face? Hahaha. Oh boy, I should have recorded this. Hey this is a live stream right? Someone clip that. Anyway, I have defused the bomb. And the acid isn't actually acid. It's just colored water with a light beam at the bottom. I still can't believe he doesn't check the acid pool first.
The Trickster then goes towards Gordon and pulls him down from the rope. After Gordon touches the ground, he unties him and pats Gordon's shoulder.
Trickster: Well I guess this is good enough for the apology.
Gordon: Apology?
Trickster: *Rubbing his neck* Yeah, about that. I was the one that glitter bombed your office last week. I mistook your office for another corrupt policeman and accidentally placed it on your desk. I am also technically the cause of you getting caught today. In my defense, you shouldn't startle me like that.
Gordon: Wait, you're the kid that punched me.
Trickster: I'm not a kid. I'm 16. Plenty old if you ask me. Whatever, here is your phone. Go call Batman to pick you up. I want to go back to sleep after having fun tonight. Adios.
Gordon: Wait-
Trickster then disappears into thin air like he is never there in the first place. If not for his phone in his hand and later confirmation from everyone that watched the live stream, Gordon might have admitted himself into Arkham.
That is merely the start of the many incidents involving Gotham's newest rogue the Trickster.
Part 2
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Smalltown!Neglected!Meta!Reader x Yandere!Batfam ☁️ Part Eight
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Part One ☁️ Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven
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A/N: I think I went too hard on this, but I also feel like it wasn't enough. I really wanted to play around with dialogue more. I was going to have the Bats hit Smalltown in this, but I think it would be best if the confrontation(s) had it's own chapter. Let me know what y'all think!
A/N: This is my longest writing yet. Just a heads up. Hope that's all good!
Warnings: Yandere themes, alluded murder, platonic bed sharing, OC usage.
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The way the raindrops on the windshield seemed to chase each other didn't even registered to you as your heart continues to palpitate in your chest. Your hands shaking on the steering wheel as the numbers on the mile markers continued to change, and they weren't growing any steadier with each passing one. The way the excitement to gyrated inside your chest as the old truck continued on the patch-work road made you feel lightheaded. Not in a bad way, but in a way you could get addicted to.
It didn't stop the nausea curdling in your stomach, but you chalk that up to this being your first true act of rebellion. Even if you felt it was justified. It wasn't like they were going to chase after you, though. They had made their priorities clear. Clear as Gotham's smog filled skies. You weren't going to allow yourself to waste away in that manor filled with more secrets than people when there was a life outside of it that you had once been a part of.
It wasn't until you were certain a full day had past that the storm had finally dissipated, both over Gotham and over your mind. The trepidation in your belly at long last fading into a sense serenity. Even if it was only a fleeting thing. Water rarely stays still for long when the storm comes.
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Back in Gotham the family had finally dragged their bone-weary selves back to the cave. Some collapsing in the nearest got. Some dragging themselves upstairs for their comfort of their bed. But, surprisingly, it's Damian that drags himself to your room. The past two days had worn him down and he just wanted his sibling, even if it meant disturbing them. Even if they were mad at him.
It doesn't register to him that your bed is empty. That some of your things are missing. He crawls under the covers and curls into the pillow like a temperamental cat. Resting his eyes temporarily he says. You're his sibling, you shouldn't mind. (He had heard you laughing on the phone about how your other little brother used to do this on occasion. He wants to know what that’s like)
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As everyone rest their heads back home, unaware that the worse was yet to come even after the lighting had passed, you start to turn down familiar roads. Roads you had memorized every bump of once. The roads that lead you towards a home you had missed and things you used to know.
There's a few new bumps and pot holes that you don't recognize, but you're too excited to see them as the warnings they were.
As you pull into the driveway of Nana and Grand Daddy's house, you can see Nana standing outside. Waving for you in front of the two-story bedroom house Daddy had designed and built for them years ago. The place was well cared for despite the creaky steps on the front porch that you had spent many hot summers on. Blowing snow across the yard to keep cool.
When you finally park the truck and hop out Nana's already rushing towards you with surprising speed for her old age. Already your arms are opening for her when she suddenly scoops you up and locks you in an tight embrace.
"I missed you." You mumble into her shoulder. Trying to fight back a few tears as the scent of her bitter perfume fills your nose.
"I missed you more. We all missed you more, sugarplum." You hear the gravel in her voice as she gives you one last squeeze. Holding you so tight that for a moment you feel you can't breath. But, before you need to gasp for air, she pulls back slightly. Her aged brown eyes looking you over appraisingly. "You sure ya' don't wanna rest up a bit? You look thin, sweetpea."
A soft noise escapes your lips in a puff.
"I'm sure. Still too wired from the drive." You reply as you wipe those few stray tears that somehow trickled down your cheeks. Your best efforts to keep them contained failing.
Everything around you feels different. It's home, but there's something about it that is different. The smells are the same, the sights are the same, even the sounds are the same. But, you chalk it up to the way the Gotham air still clings to your skin and the silence of the manor that has left your ears sensitive to the slightest shifts in change.
"I… I kinda feel bad about leaving how I did." Comes your immediate confession as she continues to hold you like you're made of soft gold.
Even if it seemed unnecessary to say, it felt nice just to blurt out how you were feeling to someone who actually listened. Besides, Nana had always made you tell her what was bothering you if there ever was something. It was a habit to tell her things by now.
"Leaving Gotham, I mean…. running away in the night without warning, Nana."
"Nonsense, baby." Already she's brushing your cheek and trying to soothe the worry and fear. Holding your face between her hands so all you can focus on is her.
"You ain't done not a thing wrong. They was being unreasonable. Besides, you can just call them later and tell them your alright." For a moment, you feel like she's lecturing you. Like she used to when you where little. About being safe and staying near her at all times when you went out into town with her. But, now you're grown and she still does it.
"Are you sure, Nana? Because I know You, and Momma, and Daddy used to get on to me about asking permission before doin' things-"
"Ah-ah," She irrupts your before you could finish, "This is one of those incidents where it's better to ask for forgiveness, I promise. Besides, I know you asked first. Not your fault they was being unreasonable. Not your fault at all, baby." Nana's voice going from stern to a soft coo as she starts to lead the way into the old house.
You take a breath of the place, smelling the seasonal candles that you usually had lit this time of year. Noting the slight changes in decor. Projects that Nana probably had Grand Daddy completing while you were gone. There's even more pictures on the walls. Some more of Momma and Daddy, and even more of you. Nana had even printed out the ones you had sent her on your phone while you where in Gotham.
It was nice she missed you so much that she made you the center piece of the picture gallery, but still it felt odd. You had been hoping to see more pictures of your brother, Jean Luke. To actually see what memories he had made without you. But, you don't comment. You just head towards the kitchen. Sitting in your usual spot at the counter to continue talking with her.
You can smell her cooking. Nana really wasn't the best cook, but she went all out making a few of your favorite dishes with as much effort as she could muster out of her bones.
"So, how's Lukie been doing?" You mean to start conversationally, but your tone drifts to sounding more concern when the reminder about the lack of pictures on the wall crosses your mind and the thought that maybe he actually hasn't been coping well since you’ve been gone pops into your head as well. "I know what he tells me. That he's doin' fine when we’re on the phone, but how is he actually doing, Nana?"
"He's doing better." She replies while checking the oven, a slight sigh in her voice. She caught your tone of concern. "Still misses your Momma and Daddy. Bless. But, he's doing better. He'll probably feel ever better now that your back." She gives you a grin before sliding you a cutting board and a knife.
Already you fall into step, peeling and chopping the things she hand you.
"I'm not actually back, back." You mention, biting your lip when you catch her freeze.
"What you mean, baby?" Her soft voice doesn't match her tense shoulders. The lines on her face growing taunt.
"Well, it's just I kinda feel bad about how I left things with Bruce and 'em. And, I still gotta finish high school." You start to explain. It is true. You had a whole day to try to think about your actions. Getting out of Gotham had helped you process your feelings about the place. You still didn't like Gotham, but you'd been told all your life that family was important. You just didn't know that the family that had told you that wanted you to put them before all others.
"Oh, baby, you won't be needing none of that. Besides this is where you belong. We need you here. Them city folks just don't understand you, baby." You're about to protest when she continues on just before your lips could part to speak.
"Besides, Tanner's really been missin' you. He about turned himself into a frog when Mae showed him a picture of you in that pretty little outfit she made for ya’. The boy about croaked." Nana gives you that meddlesome look you knew to well. The one she gave you when she spoke about her church friend's grandson's. The one that always made you bush.
It was a clever distraction, and not at all a lie. Nana had watched Tanner turn green with envy at the sight of you in that dress and with your date. And, he about sang when he heard about your date's death right after. The town all had to forcefully stop him from driving back to Gotham to just to comfort you.
"Nana, you're being silly again. He don't like me like that." You brush off the flush with practiced easy, giving her a stern look of your own.
"Things change, baby. You're grown now. Everything's gonna be different, but just the same." She muttered that last part so low you could hardly hear it. Just as your about to question that statement, she changes topic once more.
"Now, you wanna stay we me and your Grand Daddy tonight?" The question stunning you for a second. You hadn't even thought about where you were going to stay when you started your way back here. But, the longing creeps back into your chest once more.
"Actually, I want to stay at the old house. I- I miss my own bed." You once again find yourself confessing, though it goes much deeper than that. Nana likes it when you let her see even surface level things, usually she's able to draw the proper conclusions from them. However, this time Nana tenses for the briefest moment, but then relaxes almost instantly after. You nearly miss it.
"Of course, baby. Of course. Take Lukie with you. It'd do him some good and I'd hate for you to be alone all up in there. The loneliness might get to ya." She seemed to place a bit too much emphasis on bringing your brother with you. But, you weren't going to complain.
After all, "It already got to me, Nana. It already got to me." You whisper to yourself before letting Nana regale you with all the latest town gossip.
It's not long until you're making plans to help set up for your brother's and by extension your own birthday tomorrow. Happily chatting away until Grand Daddy and Jean-Luke walk in the door.
Instantly, receiving a soft kiss on the forehead from Grand Daddy along with a tight grip on your shoulders and a firm, "Missed you, sugarplum." Before he slowly lets you free to help Nana and quite speaking to her.
You turn to your brother, little Jean-Luc, and reach for him with the swiftness of a breeze. He seems to hesitate before returning your hug with an almost intense ferocity that strangely makes you think of your last hug with Dick. Like he doesn't want to let go. Like he's almost scared to let go.
You let him hold you a good long while, standing there in the kitchen. It should feel like a relief to hold him again. Yet, you have the sudden urge to carry him away. Something that makes the winds inside your chest tell you to flee. You mange to swallow it down, but not the tears. Those freely pour down your cheeks as you both whisper about how much you missed each other back and forth. You notice how oddly quite he is. It's easy to blame that on the grief you both still feel, but it's different.
Sitting at the table and enjoying the meal feels different. Everything is different. Including the way Jean-Luke grips your hand when you tell him your going to stay at the old house and how he can come if he wants.
You almost want to laugh at how fast he leaps into the front seat of the truck. The grin on his face the most genuine you've seen since you got here.
Driving up to the old house made you ache. A deep ache that you felt from you chest to your palms. The dirty from the buried grief you felt being disturbed. As you glanced at your little brother’s face, the one that looked so much like Momma’s, you could tell he felt it too. Which bothers you because he shouldn’t have had to bury his grief like you did yours.
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Back at the manor, in the short time it had been since Damian rested his head on your pillow. He noticed it was too still. You were always moving in the manor. Always breezing through the halls. Yet now things had gone still. Not just in your room, but through out the manor.
His green eyes had opened, and sharpened. You should be here resting with him. Where were you? He hadn't bothered to keep track of your belongings before, but some things felt out of place. After a brief scan of the room, he made his way towards the cave. His senses on high alert for you. Straining to overhear your usual chattering on the phone or your pattering feet on the carpeted halls.
But, there was nothing. Most everyone was asleep or dozing and the stillness bothered him. The cooling realization filled him with each step as he walked down into the cave.
Sitting at the computer, Bruce goes over the footage of the previous nights. The storm was suspicious, and the churning in his gut and the way his hair stood on end didn’t help those suspicions. But, when Damian had entered the cave, those suspicions went from whispers to screams.
"Damian, get everyone to the cave. Now."
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"Missing? What the hell do you mean missing?" Dick was the first to respond to the news, standing at attention and livid despite having recently been woken up by an anxious Damian. Well, as anxious as Damian would physically allow himself to be in front of anyone.
"Damian brought it to my attention and the truck is gone from the garage." Bruce replied. Normally, this would sound like his usual paranoia flaring, but no one questioned him this time. Just the grim look on his face and the way his shoulder's tensed let everyone know that this was a completely serious matter.
Exhaustion immediately melting form everyone as the mission suddenly shifted.
"Barbara, pull up the manor security cameras from the night first night of the storm."
She speedily rolled her chair over to the computer and started pulling up the footage. It was only because she had years to develop her self control that her fingers didn't shake as she typed on the keys.
I should have been watching them. I should have checked on them.
The footage begins to show the exact moment that their sweet sibling left their room with a large bag of their shoulder and a excited grin on their face.
Why are you smiling like that? Why are are you happy to be leaving them? Why are you leaving? Why are you leaving?
A million thoughts flash through each of their heads. All filled with variations of despair and worry. Those are quickly amplified when the camera video finally goes out due to the multiple lighting strikes that hit the manor and the generators.
"They left right when the manor's and cave's generator were hit." Tim jumps in into detective mode right away, not wanting to linger on the disparaging thoughts in his head. And, the budding anger in his chest for allowing this to happen. And, for you leaving them. Him.
"Why are their eyes glowing?" Duke points out, coming out of his head finally when his eyes catch the flicker of a glow on the screen. It was a blessing that the cameras were so state of the art.
"What?" That snaps everyone else out of their heads. All of them moving behind Barbara to see what he's talking about.
"Their eyes," He bends forward of the keys, lightly pressing his finger to where you face is on the high definition screen. "They're glowing."
"Babs…" Dick murmurs into her left ear, his eye's never leaving your frozen smiling face.
"On it." She nearly hisses right back. Fingers actually shaking this time as she zooms into your face and changes a few setting of the camera to see the light waves that were captured.
And, right there on the screen, was the hint illumination in those large eyes of yours.
"Holy shit, you're right." Stephanie is the first to speak. Stumbling back as she starts running a million different scenarios through her head. The other's following. Some still sitting enraged or worried about what this might possibly mean.
Possible hypothesises start being blurted out.
Mind Control?
Hypnosis?
Magic?
God, I hope not.
Aliens?
Even worse than the magic.
"Maybe someone from that town manipulated them?" Cassandra suddenly suggests, having silently watched the footage of you play over and over again. You looked excited, genuinely excited, and it broke her heart that you did. But, there was a part of her that was still hopeful. That maybe you left because you didn't know any better. Didn't realize how much they adored you. They'll fix that. They fix that as soon as they get you back.
"Was anything tampered with when that asshole dropped off the truck?" Jason grumbles while rubbing the bridge of his nose. Of course he is livid. You fucking left. Sure, he liked putting the fear of God into you and could even tell you were unhappy at times, but you're an idiot if you think it's safe out there. And, you need to come home. Fuck, he'll even apologize and make up for scaring you. Please, just come back.
"No." Tim knows this because he made sure to check. Bruce may not have wanted to touch the truck and forbid them from messing with it. But, that didn't stop Tim from snooping on you at the very least. He just wanted to pretend he was in your fondest memories. Only until he could help you make newer better ones.
"Maybe a drug? Some chemical compound?" Duke eventually suggest, praying it isn't so.
"We could run a test? Just to check." Already Barbara begins pulling up the programs necessary, while Tim sets up the lab equipment. Dick is already running up to your room to grab any strand of hair he can find that might have been left behind. And, maybe checking to see if they were all wrong and you really didn't leave them. Him.
"Run them all."
That draws everyone's attention back to Bruce. The man had been standing stoically in silence. Brooding in silence as his thoughts overwhelmed him.
You left him. You left because of him. This wasn't some disagreement on how he did things as Batman. This wasn't because you were trying to get back at him. You left him willing because of what he had done as your father. No one has ever willing left him like this before. Not his children. Not his parents. Not anyone he has ever allowed himself to actually care for. It makes him mad, but more than anything it makes him want to collapse in on himself. He won't. Obviously. But, he's going to bring you back home. He's going to fix his mistake while he has the chance and you will give him that chance.
"Bruce… That includes a DNA test."
"I said all of them."
"What?" It's Damian who finally speaks up. For the first time since he alerted the other's of your disappearance. "Why would you do that? It's unnecessary."
It's a betrayal, he thinks. Not on your part. You may be too soft and too kind and too fragile and too simple minded. But, he knows you’re his. He may have gotten over his obsession with the blood in his veins, but the blood in yours connects you to him in a way none of his other siblings can have. He doesn't even think to question it. Doesn't want to. And, for a moment, he feels utter betrayed by his sire for thinking to doubt it.
"Damian."
"NO. It is unnecessary." He doesn't glare, but the anger is plain on his face. How dare father question?
Regardless of what Damian wants, Bruce nods to Barbara and Tim when a downtrodden Dick reenters the cave with a hairbrush in hand. You really were gone.
"Do it."
"Father-"
"Damian. They are our family, regardless of the results."
Bruce will love you regardless. He did a DNA test all those years ago. He knows your his, but he needs to make sure your still his. That something didn't change you or take you from him.
For Damian it's a tense minute. He knows you'll be family. No matter the results. But, he wants to share something with you that only an exclusive few people on this Earth or in this life ever will.
"Fine."
After that, it's silence for the next forty-three minutes. The programs running on the BatComputer dinging softly as each one is completed. Barbara's fingers rub together as she watches each one.
Tim doesn't bother looking, too anxious to sit around and wait. Already, he is on a spare computer looking into God knows what. Whatever it is, the rest of them can tell it's about you. Just by seeing the way his pupils are blown wide and darting about his screen.
Dick stands tense. Normally he would move about. Pace or do something. But, it seems wrong right now. The discomfort in the stillness is nothing compared to his current distress at knowing you're gone.
Stephanie debates internally on ripping the spare computer away from Tim. Wanting to see what he's found on you. Wondering if he knows if you're alright or not. Wondering if he's just watching looped footage of you and not sharing.
Duke is thinking. Really, he's contemplating what's happening. This is going to spiral into something. He feels it. He might not be the most experienced or most trained, but he knows something is changing. And, for once, he's not scared of the idea. Mostly because he knows by the end of this you will be back home. They won't allow you to stay lost.
"DNA test shows their a match to you, Bruce. And, we compared them to your old test of them too. Still a match."
Damian nearly beams, but manages to hide his relief under a smug smile.
"I told you, father."
"I didn't doubt." And, it is true. He never doubted you were his. But, he is still searching for an explanation.
"No drugs. No anything in their system that would register, but-" Barbara stops when she notices the screen. The anomaly on it. The one test that triggered. A question being possibly answered from the result and a million more arising if true.
"Oh."
"What is it?" Jason breaks the silence that's once again gone over everyone. The sense of unease bubbling through them all.
"I ran their DNA through all the usual test, and there was one single positive one."
"Which one?"
"Meta gene. And…"
Oh.
"It's active."
"Son of a bitch."
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
As your brother and you start getting settled in for the night in the old house, airing out the stale air, pretending the dusting isn't there, you wonder around a bit. Similar to how you would back at the manor. Only this time there's no historical paintings on the wall. Just pictures of your own history laid out before you.
You'd never been more grateful for all the photos taken by you mother. All the times she would chase you down with a brush or comb in hand yelling at you, "You need to make sure you have nice hair for the picture. Or, the one's with terrible hair will be the one's that forever."
"But, what if I want them to last forever?" Your voice had been young and cheeky then.
"What if I just want them to last a little bit longer?" Now that voice was older and much more solemn.
Quickly, you shake the thought from your head. Setting your bag back in your old room for the night. A quick glance at the old space shows that someone's been in it recently. Probably your old friend Mae, judging by the amount of clothes spilling from your closet and dresser. She was always stuffing things in here for you. It makes you smile fondly to know that she missed you despite your phone calls early every day.
As you walk back down the hall, you find Jean-Luc standing outside your parent's old room.
"You wanna come with me to see them?"
"Yeah." The word soft, full of unshed grief as you both walk out to the back. There's an old live oak with Spanish moss out there, and two dead people that were loved and buried underneath it.
"Daddy always liked it when you made it rain when it was sunny out." Lukie whispers, recalling all the times you won the water-gun fights.
You remember the summer showers. The snowy Christmases. The way you used to blow the pollen away. The hurricanes you tamed. The tornadoes you saved the town from . The memories make causing the rain difficult. But, when you walk through the slightly overgrown grass towards the two stones the tears fall easy while the rain falls hard.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
"I pulled up all the weather patterns for that region and the theory is starting to look more factual by the second." Tim's already taken the helm, old weather radar scans on the screen. Files on Smalltown and it's people pulled up for display.
And, an entire screen dedicated to you. You. You. YoU. yOU. YOU? YOU
"So, it's confirmed they caused the storm. But, why?" It's Stephanie that asks while pacing back and forth next to the all of gear. Her worry and disbelief illuminated by the display lights.
"Princess was probably pissed." Jason says while cleaning his guns. The parts neatly laid out on the table while he shines and greases each piece. Twice. Thrice. Over and Over.
"But, why?" Dick is finally in motion, tapping his foot as impatiently. He knows they need all the information and a plan before they can get you back. But, the wait is straining him.
Barbara gives him a single look in reply. One that they've all shared often enough to know the meaning of.
"They hid it pretty well." Duke mushes. Strangely enough he's happy with this information. Everyone else in this family is technically a normal person, just with maxed out skill stats and trauma. Now, you two can both be normal childhood bros and meta buddies together.
"Cass, did you suspect anything?"
"I didn't ask." Which translates to, she knew, but didn't want to say anything that would drive you away. Seems kind of pointless now that you're gone, though.
The bitter silence reigns once more, before Tim speaks up.
"Incoming. The Asshole is getting a call from Nana." A few clicks and they're listening to the sound of your old childhood crush and your dearest Nana speak. The topic? You.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
That night you curled up with Jean-Luc in your parents old bed. Like you both used to when nightmares made cowards. You had to dig the old bedding out of the storage. The scent of the detergent Momma used to use faint on them. But, the two of you burrowed underneath the duvet like you were trying to hide from the world.
"How you feelin'?" You whisper to him, the room only illuminated by the stars in the window and the faint bathroom light.
"It's weird without Momma and Daddy. Everythin' is weird now and scary." He mutters in reply. He practically plants himself into your side.
"I know. I feel that way about it too."
"No, I mean… here. In town it's weird. Eveybody be actin' weird since you left." There's something in the way his voice shakes that makes you think he's not making this up
"What do you mean about everyone actin' weird, hun? I thought you were spendin' time with everyone. Nana said you were hanging out with Mae and Tanner. I know Mae is odd, but-"
"Nana's being weird too. And, Grand Daddy. She don't let me do nothin' fun at all these days. Says everything's to dangerous, and if somethin' happened to me you'd be upset." The child interrupts, sounding remarkably like his age with his complaints. But the low sound of his voice sounds less like mutterings and more like a cautious whisper.
"Well, that's cause Nana loves you. She don't want nothin' to happen to you, baby." You try to reassure him, as you've always done.
"But, she's always going on and on about you. She's almost as bad as Tanner." The way he says that name makes you pause. Tanner's been mention quiet a lot since you've been back. And, you've only been back for a couple of hours.
"Tanner's gone on about me?" You try to sound bashful, try to sound like its a compliment. But, the blush doesn't come.
"Yeah." Lukie practically roots himself into your chest where your heart is beginning to pound. "Always going on about you and the future and ranting about Gotham. He… he's kinda scary. I saw him and Grand Daddy a few months ago dragging something into the swamp. It looked… it looked about as long as a gator, but it wasn't a gator. It had clothes on."
"Baby, what do you think it was?" You somehow keep your voice steady as your arms wrap around him. Clinging to him and shielding him.
"I don't think I wanna remember. I just want everything to go back to normal."
After that, you let the wind outside the house howl. The way it blows through the trees with your fear keeps you up. Eventually you force the rain once again. Trying to lull Lukie-boy and yourself to sleep. For a brief moment, a flicker of a thought before you drift off into an uneasy slumber you think...
Should I have stayed?
And, your not certain if your talking about here or Gotham.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
A/N: I'd say there's about two more parts of this left, then we'll be really focusing on Pregnant!Reader for a bit. Got a blurb list in the works for it and a few ideas. And, I really really really need to clean out my ask box. Oops.
☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️☁️
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Teach Me
Aemond Targaryen x female reader smut (Rhaenyra & Harwin Laenor Velaryon's daughter)
After your family gathers in King's Landing for Maelor's name day celebrations, tensions build between in more ways than expected. A lesson in High Valryian from your uncle Aemond causes a mutual infatuation to bubble over.
w.c: 9,398 (i know)
c.w: SMUT 18+ , targcest (uncle & niece), NO use of Y/N, oral (m & f receiving), afab reader, foreplay, unprotected p in v sex, the slowest of slowburns to ever exist, mild aemond angst, but also kinda soft aemond(?), fluff to finish ofc, small implied age gap, reader is briefly mentioned to have Srong features, pet names (in high valyrian), use of High Valyrian all translations in text as it is spoken (E.G "Rytsa Skorkydoso glaesā?" (Hi how are you?)) (i didn't translate these everytime bc i used them a lot so: mandianna = niece (child of your older sister), iāpa = uncle), pls let me know if i've missed any
a.n: so this came from a post i did the other day, and @sinistersnakey9419 gave me the idea for this fic and it had me giggling and kicking my feet fr. also, this took me like a week to write because i kept adding more plot teehee.
dividers: @saradika ♡
It was a week into your families stay at King’s Landing. The Red Keep was a familiar place, but it was no Dragonstone. Your Grandsire, King Viserys, had made it his wish of his for his family to be together to celebrate Maelor’s name day which was to be a multiple day affair. And he meant all of his family, regardless of the fabricated tensions that divided you. As Rhaenyra’s second eldest and only surviving daughter, you felt an unspoken pressure to help maintain the peace between the brothers of the family. One side couldn’t help but torment whilst the other was quick to defend his family by any means. You missed being back on Dragonstone, but this was an exciting place to be. Days were filled with activities befitting of a young lady, and you enjoyed spending time with your Aunt Helaena ��� both of you appreciated a sisterly figure from within each other. There was one presence you couldn’t quite understand. Aemond. Your uncle had watched you closely since you first arrived, it had been a time since you had both seen each other. He had grown into a very tall and incredibly handsome man; he was more pleasing to the eye than he should be. His large frame and equanimous demeanour loomed over you, even from the other side of a room. His gaze stuck upon you like a hound tracking game. You couldn’t help but assume, like most other members of his side of the family, he held nothing but judgemental distain for you and your brown-haired brothers.
The mornings were always the same, Viserys had wished for you all to break your fast together daily. That had started to dwindle until the King had heard of it and demanded you eat together regardless of his presence. It was going about as well as it had the past week, Aegon’s head in a cup, Alicent on edge at every second.
“The maesters have been helping us with our Valyrian.” Spouted Lucerys, he was sweet, too sweet and sensed a smog of tension over the room. Rhaenyra smiled, appreciating your brother’s attempt.
“Let us hear it then.” Daemon announced leaning back in his seat.
“Rēbagon se gerpa kostilus.” (Pass the fruit please). Lucerys seemed impressed with his statement, Daemon seems confused for a moment before leaning forward and sliding the dish of grapes over towards Luke. A short scoff was heard from across the table, Aemond sat casually, smirk laden on his lips.
“Something the matter, Uncle?” Jacaerys spoke through slight gritted teeth. Aemond raised a hand in a defensive motion, smile still playing at his lips.
“What my brother wants to say,” Aegon peeled his face up from the tablecloth and took a swig of whatever was in his cup at this hour, “Is that your ‘High Valyrian’ sounded more like Old Ghiscari.” Lucerys smile faded as he looked to your mother for reassurance. You sighed, looking down at you half-finished plate as yet another verbal disagreement erupted between the men in your life. You rose to your feet with more haste than you anticipated causing your chair to wobble and crash onto the stone floor behind you. The room fell silent, and you felt everyone’s eyes burning into your skin.
Your gaze remained vacant, lingering on the table, “May I please be excused.” You were embarrassed: of your outburst, your family’s inability to get along, your uncles’ comments. Mostly due to the fact they were right, Lucerys’ nor Jacaerys High Valyrian was perfect, and it just added to the rumours that spread about your family. Your mother had barely spoke an ‘of course’ before you took your leave, nails digging crescents into your palms.
Leaves rustled beneath your feet as you paced the grass of the Godswood, it was always a small sanctuary of peace for it’s quiet and empty nature. You closed your eyes and let the sun beam down on your face, if you imagined hard enough you could feel the cold breeze from your balcony at Dragonstone. A harsh snapping of a twig pulled you from your thoughts, your head shooting up towards the direction of the disturbance. Aemond stood a few paces away from you, palm raised in a surrendering motion. You released a breath you had been holding onto, bringing your hands together to fiddle with the clasp of your bracelet. “I did not mean to startle you, Mandianna,” He took a stride closer towards you, hands clasped behind his back. “You caused quite a scene. For a princess.” Your eyes stayed fixated on the ground beneath the two of you. This was the first time you had ever been alone with Aemond, and he was being agreeable? It was hard to deny how beautiful he was, even just from the stolen glances towards him. You knew about sex, parts of what it entailed. From a few detailed paintings to the small snippets you overheard from the younger handmaidens. You hadn’t spent an awful lot of time thinking about it apart from when conversations of finding you a match came around. That was until this week, something about being around Aemond meant fighting away thoughts of him a regular occurrence.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you picked up your chin to meet Aemond’s stare. It was softer, and more inquisitive than his usual piercing gaze. Your stomach dropped as thoughts of him bending you over and fucking you right here in the Godswood clouded your mind, how his hands would feel over your body, his tongue across your neck and between your thighs, how it would feel him sliding – “Keli jiōraton aōha ēngos byka genes?” (Cat got your tongue little mouse?). You felt heat rising towards cheeks and across your chest as you tried to mask your raised heart rate. You were pretty sure Aemond couldn’t read your thoughts, but the small smile that played at his lips made you feel otherwise. Something about your close proximity, the way you could make out each detail of his face, and his intoxicating smell had muzzled you. Lips parted to respond but nothing came out. You felt helpless in the best way possible. “A Velaryon princess who can’t hold a High Valyrian conversation, you disappoint me Mandianna.” Aemond turned on his heel, briskly walking towards the wood’s exit.
Maybe it was the need to please, the burning between your thighs, or the fact he was no longer facing you, but the words escaped your lips before you could even process what you had said, “Teach me.” The small wave of confidence dwindled when he turned his head back to face you.
“Teach you?”
“Teach me what you think I should know, Iāpa.” You didn’t know how he would respond, nor did you know how you wished for him to respond. Aemond raised a brow and smiled to himself, your small use of High Valyrian and how your statement could be interpreted in many different made him intrigued to see where this would lead.
“Tomorrow evening, after supper. Meet me in the library’s reading room.” Without needing a response, he once again made his way out of the wood, leaving you flustered and equally excited, yet dread filled.
As supper slowly began to drew to a close, your excitement manifested in a small bobbing of your leg. Actual conversation rang out between small groups on the table, Lucerys and Helaena had included you in there’s but all you could focus on was keeping your thoughts clear. Everything about Aemond drew you further in his lips softly against his cup, the way his index and middle finger tapped along to the quiet music that had been played, but most of all the way he would catch you watching with a satisfied smile. You partially walked back to your chambers, before feigning forgetting a ring behind at the table, and insisting to your mother and Daemon that it couldn’t wait until morning. Part of you wondered if you shouldn’t have lied, there was a simple explanation: getting lessons in High Valyrian from your uncle Aemond. Except this would not go over well with your immediate family. For you could hold a conversation in High Valyrian, it was Aemond you couldn’t speak to specifically. You were actually quite proficient in High Valyrian, not as much as you’d hoped to be but a whole lot better than your brothers. Whether it was common tongue or Valyrian Aemond rendered you speechless, and now you were willingly walking into a situation where he had complete control. You knew for certain how much you longed for him, but other than glances you couldn’t figure out what he truly felt. Part of you wanted to be under him at every moment possible but if he didn’t feel the same, if his glances were all a trick, you’d be ruined.
After stepping through the library, you took one final breath before opening the heavy oak door to the reading room. It pushed open with a small creak to reveal Aemond sat at the desk, tattered book in hand. “I thought you might’ve gotten cold feet,” he closed the book and softly placed it on the table, “Come take a seat.” He arose, pulling the wooden chair beside him out from the table, allowing you to sit down. You nodded your head slightly before taking a seat, smoothing out any creases in your dress. Taking a moment to examine the reading room in the dark, you noticed the two brass cups and a wine jug, along with numerous High Valyrian scriptures and books with plain parchment and a fresh quill. Aemond himself was wearing his usual attire, except his black coat had been unbuckled a few straps, and the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed, eyeing the wine. Everything seemed real of a sudden. You weren’t used to drinking wine, especially alone at night. Sensing your nervousness, Aemond picked up a cup and placed it in front of you, “Just because it is my drink of choice for the evening,” he poured a small amount into his own cup, “Doesn’t mean I expect you to partake, Mandianna.” You paused for a moment before shaking your head ‘no’ and sliding your cup away. “Very well, read this out for me, I want to hear what you can do already.” He relished in how you squirmed when he was close to you. You looked down at the papers in front of you, ‘Aegon the Conqueror, The High Valyrian Scriptures’. You knew all about Aegon the Dragon, but the words escaped you as Aemond stood behind you, left hand atop your chair, right hand holding up his weight on the table. You felt a few strands of his long hair tickle your shoulder, the closeness of him made you feel as if you could burst. “Go on then, read it.” He said, almost a whisper. His lips were so close yet still too far, you could feel the warmth of his breath when he spoke but not the softness of his lips on your skin. This is the type of torture that scribes should mention.
“Aegon I Targaryen iksin se ēlī āeksio hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-“ (Aegon I Targaryen was the first Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and-). You paused as Aemond moved from behind you to stand beside the table.
“I didn’t say stop.” His firm tone excited you more than you wanted it to.
“se dārys va se Dēmalion Āegenko.” (and king on the Iron Throne). You continued, looking up to Aemond for approval. He nodded before gathering up the papers from in front of you and holding them in his hands. Puzzled, you turned to face him “But-“
“Too easy, you know how the story goes, tell it to me in High Valyrian.” Aemond looked pleased with himself as he sat back into his own chair that now faced yours.
You looked down at the floor for a moment, before continuing “Ziry kithsair bȳre hen sīkuda Dārȳti se-ziry se-“ (He conquered six of the seven kingdoms and-he a-nd-). Yet again, your words escaped your lips as Aemond’s gaze wandered over your body, free to visually devour your form now you were not in the company of others.
He inhaled sharply and rose to his feet, “Valyrio Eglie iksis iā kostōba udrir, se ēdruta sagon spoken hae mēre. Aōha udra issi nākostōbā, ao ȳdragon tolī rāpa. Eman daor drīve geptot naejot dohaeragon ao byka genes.” (High Valyrian is a powerful language and must be spoken as one. Your words are weak, you speak too softly. I cannot help you little mouse.) His words came at you fast and rather harshly, you hated the effect he had on you, and you hated how he judged you for it. You searched his face for something more, surely all of this was not over, the yearning looks, the candlelight, the wine, did it not mean something more? As your mind raced you looked towards the floor and wished it would envelop you. Aemond sighed, and placed the scriptures that you had read from under your chin and used them to lift you face up towards his. Your brows furrowed slightly as you looked up at him standing over you. “You don’t understand do you Mandianna,” He chuckled softly, tilting you head to his will. “Nyke would qogralbar ao ēva ao could gaomagon daorun yn ilagon isse ñuha baer mirre tubis byka genes.” (I would fuck you until you could do nothing but lay in my bed all day little mouse.) He dropped the scriptures onto the table, taking his leave with such haste that you felt he air pass by through your hair. Once his footsteps dissipated you felt as your jaw went slack. The wetness grew between your legs as you squeezed your thighs together, attempting to relieve some of the mounding pressure.
Your heart thudded in your chest like a drum, you swiftly shut the door to your chambers and tried to steady your shaky breathing. After shedding yourself of your dress you made your way to the vanity and undid your hairstyle of the day. As your fingers worked between your hair you imagined Aemond’s large hands making their way through it, your fingers delicately glided across the crook of your neck before resting upon the warmth of your chest. If Aemond wanted to play games then you would gladly oblige, except this time you knew he wanted to play.
Your reading was interrupted by the ever-persistent King’s Landing ladies in waiting, you’d usually grumble except it was the first day of Maelor’s name day celebrations and you were taught the importance of good first impressions. Today would be important as Lords and Ladies of every great house would be there and you were yet to find a betrothed who was approved by the heir to the iron throne, your brothers, and Daemon, who once sent a young lord away teary eyed with embarrassment. You smiled to yourself as the ladies working on you bickered between what way to style your hair for the occasion. “What about something mostly up, with a few small braids, and the red gem hairpins? I think that’ll match the dress I picked out for tonight.” They glanced between each other, smiled, and got to work on your dark hair. Part of you was filled with excitement, it had been a while since you had an excuse to dress up, and it was even more thrilling at the thought of catching Aemond’s attention over all the other Ladies present. As the late afternoon rolled around you were finally considered presentable to the guests in the great hall. You eyed your reflection, your hair lifted to expose your neck and clavicle, dark fabric fitted to your shape with delicate blood red beading sewn into the neckline and down the sleeves finished with your gold jewellery pieces. Just as the ladies were about to leave you had an idea, “Wait! Do you have any of the rose perfume oil?” You spoke with a smile. A few knowing glances were shared between the two eldest ladies as a younger one brought over the small crystal bottle before dabbing a small amount on each wrist and on either side of your neck.
The rest of your family waited beside the towering doors of the great hall, “Finally, I thought we’d all starve.” Joffrey spouted with a huff earning a short laugh from Lucerys, a half shove from Jacaerys and a raised brow from Daemon. Your mother waved them off and placed her hands either side of your upper arms, “What a beautiful young woman you have become, my sweet child.” Rhaenyra looked upon you with great admiration as always. You smiled and squeezed her hand as you all stood together as the doors were slowly pulled open. You could feel your heart beating in your ears as the chittering in the room slowly dissipated and all heads turned to face you all. You bore a brave face following after your parent’s movements down the steps and towards the King’s table. After greeting the king, you were all seated, the family had grown rather exponentially since Rhaenyra’s wedding to your father Laenor which you had heard many stories about. You sat towards the outer curve to one side of the table, and out of the corner of your eye you saw Aemond, already watching you. So not to give him the pleasure of your gaze, you made conversations with your family next to you.
A short clearing of a throat pulled you from your conversation with Jacaerys, “I am Jorick Lannister, your graces,” He bowed his head towards you, “I was wondering if I may have the honour to ask the Princess to a dance?” He flashed his best smile at you.
You looked expectantly to your mother and Daemon, “If you wish to, then go dance.” Rhaenyra grinned, she gently touched her own elbow against Daemon’s, and he muttered something about there ‘being worse choices in the room’. You stood up from your seat, perhaps a bit too eagerly and walked around to the side of the table where the Lannister stood. He extended his hand, palm up towards you and lead you down the few steps to the crowd of dancers. You stood a pace apart and looked at the man in front of you, he was certainly handsome, dark blonde hair that waved towards the nape of his neck, gentle grey eyes. As you looked into them something caught your eye behind them. Aemond was alert, not sat in his usual laid-back posture with his cup resting in his hand on the arm of his chair. He was sat forward, stiff as a statue and boring daggers into the back of your dance partner. You swallowed as you saw the grip he had around his cup; it was solid metal but from the look on his face alone it could crumble. The music swelled as Jorick took your hand in his and placed his other upon your waist.
As you both moved across the floor, he leaned in to speak to you “How are you enjoying the capital princess.” Jorick spoke above the music.
“There’s a certain beauty to it, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t miss Dragonstone.” You spoke with truth.
Jorick chuckled, “Ah yes, it is the perfect home for a dragon. I do believe you would grow to like Catserly Rock your grace. It’s no island but the coastline is just as harsh, I miss the sound of it when I try to sleep somewhere new.”
You heartily laughed at his statement as he twirled you in a circle. “I have said that ever since we got here! But no one else seems to understand it.” While he laughed and agreed in return.
Meanwhile at the King’s table, Aemond’s jealousy bubbled harshly. Already did he have a hard time resisting taking you into his arms and treating you as you deserved, but watching another man, a Lannister at that, hold you the way he wanted to, enraged him. He counted the guards in the room to simmer his anger, but then imagined fighting them off as he cut down every person between you and him and taking you into an embrace. He was completely and utterly enamoured with you, ever since he watched you climb off of your dragon from a tower of the Red Keep. Gone had the child he knew as a babe himself and was now replaced with a woman who plagued his thoughts. Your darker hair that framed your face, eyes that crinkled when you laughed and held so much emotion, the way you smile brought him an unmanageable amount of joy. He couldn’t hate you, no matter if he tried. At this moment, he wished for it to be simple. That he wasn’t your mother’s brother, that he was just a Lord of some other house, dancing with you and holding you close. A world in which he could have you, touch you, without bearing the reprehensible disappointment of his mother or the feeling of his heart being crushed right in front of him. He had once and for all had enough after the 6th eager meek had hovered around you after each song had finished to ask for your hand. Aemond rose to his feet and made his way to you on the floor with large strides dipping in between the guests. Queen Alicent watched him with worry, he wasn’t known to dance or partake in many festivities like these.
You parted ways with your last dance partner and smiled as you were approached by yet another Lord, “My princess, I am Erich Baratheon and I would love the honour of-“ He started before being cut off by the sudden appearance of Aemond: he’d brushed past the suitor on his was to you, not harsh in any sense but it definitely took you both off guard.
The broad Baratheon was dwarfed by not only the Targaryen’s height, but his mere presence also. “Perhaps is it my turn for a dance, Mandianna.” The request seemed so lewd and intimate coming from him, despite it being what would otherwise be an innocent dance between family.
“I was just asking the Princess for a dance. Perhaps you may dance with her after?” The Baratheon mustered his bravest voice, a touch deeper than it had been a moment ago. Aemond’s gaze lingered on you a moment longer before he turned his head round and down with a rather dramatic tilt to amplify the inches between the pair. From this angle you could fully admire his jawline and neck. You imagined kissing across his sharp jawline, travelling down to his throat. At this moment you were so overcome with lust you imagine grazing your teeth against it and biting gently just to release some tension. After a very short stare off on the Baratheon’s end, “Perhaps not, uh- goodnight, Princess.” He had turned to walk away before even finishing his sentence, leaving you and Aemond face to face on the floor.
“That wasn’t very proper of you, uncle.” You spoke above a whisper, struggling to hold back a small laugh.
“Luckily it’s not so expected of me.” His face bore a small smile. An actual smile instead of a sly all-knowing smirk.
“I didn’t take you for a dancer either.”
“Well, someone had to put a stop to the herd of sheep begging to stomp on your feet all evening.” You couldn’t help but chuckle in agreement. Some of the Lords had been nice, decent dancers, with something to say. Others spent their time ogling your exposed skin or asking about your inheritance. You could not deny as conversations lulled between some of them, you imagined you were in the arms of Aemond instead. As the music began to swell, he offered you his hand which you gladly accepted whilst his other hand tentatively made its way to your upper waist. As he led the dance, he never looked away from you, it felt as if you were slowly melting into him. Able to ignore the few judgemental looks and quiet whispers from the people around you and just focussing on the man in front of you.
Back at the King’s table, your interaction had not gone unnoticed. Alicent’s worry had faded, she knew you had always been a sweet girl. She looked over to Rhaenyra who had already been watching her to gage a reaction and the two exchanged a small smile each. “Mother, are sister and Uncle Aemond going to get married?” Joffrey asked in matter-of-fact way, causing Rhaenyra to cough on the wine that she had sipped whilst Daemon chuckled and ruffled his dark curls.
You’d made a mental note to thank the gods for the current song choice, a slower one. Your hands flush together as the two of you rotated and eyes never leaving each other’s. As the end of the song drew close Aemond’s body moved behind you, left hand upon your waist and right taking your hand in his and intertwining your fingers. The latter part was not a usual for this particular dance. Your breath hitched in your throat as you could feel the strength of his torso behind you. “You know uncle, I have been wanting more lessons in High Valyrian, I think a few more and we could really make some progress.” It wasn’t 100% a lie, Aemond definitely could teach you some High Valyrian, but it was mostly an excuse to be in private with him again.
“Really? Because you did so well last time?” You could practically feel the smirk on his face from behind you. “I know you can ask a lot nicer than that Mandianna.” You shuddered softly at the sensation of his voice so quiet, whispering into your ear. The music pace picked up as you glided across the floor, heart beating within your ears. As the instruments came to a halt, you felt a sense of weightlessness as Aemond dipped you and held you there, so low to the ground you felt the ends of your hair touch against it. You eyed him, brows raised and chest rising and falling, feeling fully in his hands.
“Kostilus, Aemond.” (Please, Aemond) The words left your lips in a soft way that travelled straight down his spine. You could not identify the emotion that swept his face as he swiftly brought you to your feet and ripped his hands from yours. His eyes shut briefly, his hands flexing into tight fist, you were not sure what had happened. As you reached out for his hand he stepped back and kept his eyes to the ground before making his way to the exit of the great hall. You called out to him softly, but he soon disappeared in between the crowds.
Confused and a little hurt, you made your way back to your seat and looked at the remainder of your meal that had surely gone cold. You felt your mother’s hand rest upon yours, and you looked to her and smiled weakly. “Where did your uncle go sweet girl?” She spoke softly and quietly, as to avoid bringing your brothers into it.
“He mentioned that he had to go for something.” Your lie wouldn’t have fooled a stranger, let alone your own mother, but she did not pry. She gave your hand a small squeeze and gave you the mother’s look of ‘I’m here if you need me’.
Aemond briskly made his way down the corridors of the Red Keep. His hands met the roughened wooden doors to a balcony as he pushed them open and felt the chill of the night air cover him. It was not enough as he felt is blood burn hot, coursing through his veins and the sight of you in his arms. Your hair cascading down past you, exposing your neck, the way your breasts filled out your corset and raised with your breathing. That damned perfume you wore and how it mixed with your scent had been a drug to him this night. Your eyes that stared up at him like a doe and looked at him like he was a god. He couldn’t help but remember your soft plump lips, the way they parted slightly when he looked your way, how you bit your lip whilst saddling your dragon and worst of all: how deliciously his name sounded coming out of them. He had not yet heard you say his name, but it being paired with such a submissive plead made it all the more torturous. He slowly breathed through his nose; head tilted back resting on the bricks. Aemond was too infatuated with you to ever hate your effect on him. His frustrations only grew greater the more he knew you. He was at a grand dinner, filled with every food and treat he could ever imagine, yet all he wished to taste was between your legs. He decided then and there on that balcony that his affections for you must go. ‘It should not be so painful’ He thought to himself, after all, you only had a few short days left in the capital.
The following day started even earlier, with the second day of the celebrations taking place in the gardens. You yawned into the palm of your hand and watched as the front side pieces of your hair were brought back and weaved into a delicate braid. “You mustn’t stay up so late princess!” The handmaiden fretted as she pulled out the dress you had chosen yesterday. You eyed it, before glancing towards the window to see the sun breaking out through the clouds, giving you an idea.
“It looks like it could really warm up in the garden under the sun, I was thinking of wearing this dress instead.” You lifted the dark berry coloured dress up in front of your handmaidens.
“I think you may get cold your grace.” One of the younger handmaidens spoke eyeing the dress, after a harsh glare from the eldest maiden she continued, “But you will look perfect no matter what!” She clarified with a nervous chuckle. You smiled at her in reassurance and allowed the cluster of ladies to dress you. Once they had finished arguing over minor details you stood back to look at your reflection. This was a dress you had never worn before, meant for particularly warm weather. It was an off the shoulder cut, that capped your upper arms with a tie. The dark coloured material was thinner than your regular dresses and the skirt flowed with any movement you made. After trying to sound as nonchalant as possible you once again asked for the rose perfume oil. After a few dots were dabbed on your wrists and neck, you thanked your ladies and placed the delicate bottle on the vanity. Once they had filed out you reapplied a few extra drops to your skin before dropping a small amount onto your fingertips and ran it through the ends of your hair. You looked beautiful, and hoped this would gain Aemond’s affections once more.
The garden party was a success from the get-go. Conversations bubbled, drinks were poured, and the food spread was something to marvel at. You were walking through the flowerbeds, arms linked with Baela, both of your laughs travelling from reminiscing on moments from your shared childhoods. “I heard you and Aemond caused quite the stir last night.” Baela giggled, nudging her elbow into yours.
“Word does travel fast in the capital,” You laughed. “And it was not a shared commotion, he was the one who left in a rush after we danced!” You reasoned with her; slight frustration apparent in your tone.
“And what a dance it appears to have been, they’d be able to smell you from Pentos.” You frowned slightly, wondering if you had overdone it today. She turned to face you, placing her hand over yours. “I jest of course, anyone would be lucky to catch your eye.” Baela’s smile was genuine and reassured your worries. You looked around the crowds of people once more, eyes fleeting from face to face. “He’s still not arrived yet.” Your eyes met hers once again as you both burst into loud laughter.
After much convincing from Alicent and a more silent encouragement from approach from Helaena, Aemond was finally making an appearance at the garden party. He thought to himself ‘What could a child so young possibly want with such celebrations?’ He justified his annoyance for his affections for you by dismissing the whole day, but being Maelor’s uncle he was expected to be there at some point. He was mere seconds into his arrival at the party before he overheard a distinct sound that made his heart sting. The familiar song of your laughter rang out from across the gardens. Every fibre of his being urged him to look for you, just to turn his head and see your face once more. Against all odds he kept his eyes trained on the floor and made his way to a quieter corner of the event in an attempt to go against his instincts and hide from you. He stood with his cup, fingers tracing across the details, a few feet away from the largely untouched array of desserts.
You grew frustrated as you looked around once more for your uncle’s presence. “Drink this, it’ll relax your nerves.” Baela handed you a cup with a dark red liquid in the bottom of it. “I know, wine isn’t for you, but this one is sweet! I think you’ll like it.” You nodded and took a sip, there was a slight burn as you swallowed it, but the fruity taste overtook it, and you nodded in agreement with her. As Baela and Jacaerys began talking intently you decided to have a look the foods on offer. You took another sip of your wine, the sweetness made you crave the sugared fruits the cooks always put out after dinner. After glancing over each table filled with every animal you could think of, cooked in every way. Your eyes made contact with a cake that was almost the size of you. Peering round the corner of the tent your eyes spotted something even more tempting. Aemond stood to himself, brows furrowed and finger lightly tapping against his cup in slight sync with the distant music that played.
“Uncle! I thought you were not going to make an appearance.” You tried to hide your excitement as you stepped into the tent and faced him. He seemed taken aback by the sudden presence of someone. His gaze shot up from the floor and lingered on your body, fleeting from your face to the way your dress fitted your figure. Just as he thought he’d mustered the strength to speak a light breeze rustled through the gardens and cascaded through your hair. ‘That damned floral perfume’ he thought to himself as he tried to hold his composure. After taking in her appearance once more, he noticed something unusual.
“I didn’t think you to be a wine drinker.” He spoke to you, his jaw clenched stiff.
You giggled slightly, “Me neither! But this one is Dornish, it’s a lot sweeter.” You took a step closer to him and held up your cup to him. “Would you like to taste?” You looked up at him through your lashes.
‘Yes’, He thought. “No.” He answered bluntly, “Thank you, no thank you.” His Adams apple bobbed in his throat as he answered, and you tilted your head slightly.
“Well, there’s plenty if you change your mind.” You smiled at him and turned towards the desserts table, various cakes, fruit pies, candied treats, decorated the large table.
You placed your cup and traced your finger across the end of the table eyeing the selection, you spotted your favourite sugared fruits. “I love these!” You exclaimed as you made your way over to the selection: cherries, berries of all kinds, plums, and peaches. You selected one of the peach slices and looked towards Aemond to find him watching intently. You popped the slice in your mouth and closed your eyes and exhaled a small ‘mmm’. You eyed the remaining sugar on your thumb and index finger. You looked into Aemond’s eye and popped the tip of your finger into your mouth and sucked the crystals off and releasing your finger with a pop. He muttered a short ‘gods’ to himself as he watched you round the table, another piece of fruit in hand. You faced him and held out the small piece of fruit. “You should taste it for yourself Aemond.” Something changed on his face, he looked down at you and slapped the fruit out of your hand and grabbed you by your wrist and led you out of the tent into the empty corridor nearby. “Uncle, Uncle!” You protested quietly once you were led far enough away to not be heard by guests.
“Let go,” you demanded, pushing his hand away. You eyed him as he turned away from you, breathing steadily, hands balled into fits. “Why have you dragged me out here?” You exclaimed in a hushed tone.
“Why have I?” He turned to face you, “Why have I?” He roared, stepping a pace towards you. Stepping backwards you felt the stone walls hit your shoulders. “It is you, you who has poisoned my thoughts ever since you got here, you who has made even existing in the same room as you arduous yet being away from you nearly impossible. You danced with every fool this side of The Narrow Sea and even then, you could not keep your eyes on them and not me. Calling me by my name. Now today-“, He furrowed his brows, remembering the sight of you in that tent. “Gods.” He whispered, running a hand over his face. “Do you really wish to torture me so?” He looked up at you, fragments of defeat washing over his face.
You pushed yourself away from the wall, taking a step towards him leaving an impossibly small gap between the two of you. “Nyke pendagon bisa iksin skoros ao jeldan hen nyke, Iāpa.” (I thought this was what you wanted from me, uncle.) His jaw remained tense, as slight confusion washed over him. You rose to the tips of your toes to whisper to him, “Hen aōha byka genes.” (From your little mouse.)
Without hesitation you felt his large hand cup the side of your face, his other snaking around your waist, the force of it pinning you towards the wall. His fingers brushed down your face, resting beneath your chin. His thumb tentatively ran across your bottom lip. Aemond leaned down to the side of your face, “Tell me to stop, tell me to stop and I will walk away.” His breath fanned over you; lips grazing against your neck. It took all of your efforts to not crumble beneath him.
“Ȳdra daor keligon.” (Don’t stop.) Your breath was shaky as Aemond brought his face to yours. You placed a hand against his chest and leaned up to kiss him before a rumble of distant laughter reminded you both of your current location.
He grabbed your hand from upon his chest and led you down the winding corridors of the Red Keep, your slippers tapping twice as fast on the floor to keep up with his long strides. As you both climbed the spiral staircase towards the chambers, voices rang out on the floor in front of you. Aemond brought you both to a halt, keeping his back against the wall and pulled your back towards him to avoid detection. “Why did we st-“ You started before feeling his large hand covering your mouth. He whispered a small shush into your ear. A heat spread across you face feeling a large bulge in his trousers, just above your ass. Once the footsteps had completely disappeared, he climbed the rest of the stairs, hand still firmly gripping yours. His spare hand pushed open the heavy door with such urgency, crashed against the wall beside it. He pulled you into his chambers, almost pulling you off your feet before only breaking eye contact to close and lock the door behind him.
He stepped towards you, unbuckling his jacket from the top. “Tell me to stop.” He once again commanded.
“No.” You spoke so quietly you weren’t even sure it had left your lips, but Aemond had definitely heard it. He pulled you close, keeping your bodies flush and brought a hand to your hair, pulling you closer. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt his lips graze yours slightly before delving into a deep kiss. You struggled to keep up with his desperate pace at first, feeling overwhelmed a gasp left your lips in an attempt to catch your breath. Aemond pulled away ever so slightly before planting a small kiss to the side of your mouth and kissing across your jaw.
“Turn around,” He whispered. You did as he instructed and turned your back to him. His hands gathered your hair and looped it over your shoulder. His hands traced down your back to the satin ties of your dress, before undoing the bow. You felt as his pulled your dress down your arms, down your torso and heard it drop to the floor in a light whoosh. You felt exposed, this was your first time in just your undergarments around anyone other than your handmaidens, and a man at that. His hands moved to the lacings of your corset, undoing each loop as his eyes consumed every inch of new flesh he saw. He tossed your corset to the side and pulled the rest of your undergarments off, and your arms instinctively crossed your chest. Grabbing a hold of your hand, he pulled you around to face him once more. A low groan escaped his lips at the sight of you before bringing your face to his in a deep kiss. His body led you to the foot of his bed, your back hitting one of the towering bedposts.
You let out a small gasp as his lips left yours and latched onto your neck. His hand came to your jaw and tilted your head back to look up at him. “Ivestragon nyke skoros jaelā.” (Tell me what you want.) His voice sent a heat that spread across your body.
“I want you to-“ You started before he cut you off, fingers gripping your hair slightly.
“Daor.” (No.) He eyed you, thumb tracing your jawline.
You realised what he was requesting. Your brain sped through thousands of scenarios you could’ve imagined before settling on one. “Obūljagon.” (Kneel.) You spoke with all the confidence you could gather. His typical smirk returned to his lips as he scanned your face. He was not sure what he had expected you to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. A welcomed surprise, he sank to his knees in front of you. You watched as his lips peppered small kisses across your hips, running his hands up your thighs. He parted your legs and lifted your leg up and over his shoulder by the back of your knee. You gripped the footboard of the bed to steady yourself. An almost growl left his lips at the sight of your pussy mere inches away from his face. A sharp gasp left your lips at the feeling of his large fingers spreading your wetness from your core to your clit.
He brought one of his fingers to his lips and sucked the tip of it, watching your face intently. “Mmm, all this for me?” He grumbled rubbing the inside of your thigh at a painfully slow pace.
“Yes- Kessa, syt ao.” (Yes, for you.) You felt your pussy clenching, aching to be touched. His fingers moved to your pussy, teasing your folds before starting to slowly rub circles across your clit. You let out a moan, desperate for more. A smirk painted his lips, watching you in this state. Surrounded by the plush of your thighs, your small moans filling his ears, watching your nails dig into the footboard just to cope with the sensation. His middle and third finger slid down from your clit to the entrance of your pussy.
Your eyes opened and mouth parted to question the lack of contact before you felt his two fingers slide inside of you. You let out a loud moan at the foreign sensation. He worked his fingers in and out of you at slow pace, admiring as he watched them disappear into you, stretching you out and covering them in your slick. He left small kisses on your inner thigh, keeping his eye on your face. “More,” You pleaded in between moans. Aemond considered teasing you further, before giving into your request. His sped up his fingers pumping inside of you, increasing the tightening in your lower stomach. He admired your face screwed up in pleasure for one more moment before latching his lips upon your clit. A loud ‘fuck’ left your lips, and even you were partially surprised by the vulgarity of your language before all you could think about was Aemond’s tongue. He alternated between furiously licking and sucking your clit as his fingers pumped at a rapid pace inside of you. Your other hand moved up the bed post, gripping it for dear life as the man beneath you pleasured you. Your hips involuntarily bucked into his tongue as your moans grew louder and more frequent. A moan that left Aemond’s lips vibrated across your clit pushed you over the edge. You cried out his name and felt your pussy clench around his quick fingers. He continued to thrust them inside of you and delivered a few final licks to your clit, only stopping when your legs began to quiver. He slowly removed his fingers from your pussy and planted a final kiss on your clit, earning a shiver from you. He wiped the wetness from his chin with his cotton shirt before moving your leg off from his shoulder and rose to his feet and held his hand upon your waist sensing your wobbliness. He raised his fingers towards you admiring the wetness that coated them. He brought them up to your lips and you opened your mouth, feeling them run over your tongue towards the back of your throat. You sucked them clean, watching his expression from beneath your eyelashes.
Despite how hungrily he had attended to you, he looked at you like he was starved. “Better than any of the sugared fruits down there.” He gestured towards the window, and you blushed at his remark. Never had you been filled with such desire; you had just reached your peak on Aemond’s tongue, yet you needed more. His hand collected yours, as he led you over to his bed. His lips once again found yours as he pushed you towards the edge of the bed. The backs of your knees hit the bed and you plopped down. His lips left yours and you looked up at him expectantly. His fingers gripped the ends of his shirt before lifting it off of his head and tossing it with the rest of the discarded clothes. You eyed the definition of his chest, down his stomach and his arms that landed either side of your head, pushing you down onto the bed until your head hit the pillows. His lips latched onto your neck and eagerly kissed down your chest between the valley of your breasts.
“You do not know how much I have dreamt of this,” His large hand travelled up your side to cup your breast, his hand playing with the plumpness of it before his thumb ran over your nipple. “Moaning my name, naked in my bed, all needy for me.” His tongue traced the perimeter of your nipple before taking it into his mouth, massaging it with his tongue and earning another moan from you. Those moans that could sustain him for the rest of his life he was pretty sure.
“I also dreamt of you.” You spoke meekly, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. He raised his head from your breast, brow raised.
“And what did you think about little mouse.” His smirk radiated off of him. You dreamt of him. The tightness in his trousers had become almost unbearable, but he needed to hear your sweet voice talking about him.
“I was touching you, a-and you were enjoying it.” You spoke, interrupted by a moan or two from his touch stimulating your nipples. He hummed a small ‘mmm’ in response before he moving off you and laying beside you, back propped up against the headboard. You turned to your side and looked and him inquisitively, his hand rubbed slowly over the bulge in his trousers and your mouth fell into an ‘o’ shape. He patted the bed next to his hips and you knelt facing him, unsure of what to expect. His hands reached for the tie of his trousers before you reached out and placed a hand over his. “Wait!” He looked at you with a hint of concern before you continued, “Can I try? And you tell me what you like along the way?” His jaw stiffened for a moment before he moved his hand to tangle in your hair and bring your lips to his.
You pulled your lips away from kiss and moved to kiss his neck. You started tenderly, mirroring how he had kissed yours as your hand slid down his chest towards his trousers. His breathing became more uneven as your hands touched him. Your hand fumbled with the tie of his trousers, struggling to undo it before you removed your lips from his collarbone to concentrate on the tie. He watched as your brows furrowed together, he felt as if he could finish at the sight of you. Beautiful and naked, trying so desperately to get into his pants. You finally undid the tie and looked up to Aemond with a sheepish smile, “I am not used to trousers it seems.” You giggled, and it seemed by reflex he planted a kiss on your lips.
“Dōna.” (Sweet) Your cheeks burned with his affection.
Your fingers looped over the hem of his trousers, and you pulled them down along with his undergarments as he lifted his hips slightly. Your stomach dropped at the sight of him, his cock was large and red at the tip. You froze for a second – the paintings and stories had not prepared you as well as you’d thought. You watched as his hand came to his cock and pumped it slowly a few times. His free hand reached for yours and replaced it with his own, “Just like this.” You followed the movements he had previously made, concentrating on trying to make him feel good. A small hiss brought your gaze back to his face to see his eye squeezed shut and hands gripping the sheets beneath him. You slowly increased your movements, enjoying the feeling of his cock in your hands, as you noticed a bead of precum spill his tip. Working on instinct you leant your head down and licked your tongue in a broad stroke across the tip of his cock, tasting him in your mouth. His eye immediately snapped open, “Don’t-“ He groaned.
“Sorry I-, I thought it would feel good like it did for me when you…” You trailed off searching his face. He panted, bringing your face to his. He placed his hand over yours and continued pumping his cock indicating for you to continue. He rested your forehead against his and inhaled deeply.
“It does feel good, great even, much too good.” You watched him confused, if it felt so good, why couldn’t you do it? “The difference between you and I, men and women, you may finish as many times as you please.” His voice travelled over you like honey, his free hand sliding down your stomach and rubbed his two middle fingers over your clit. “I may only once, for now, and I intend to do it in your sweet pussy.” His fingers ran small circles over your clit causing a flurry of moans to leave your lips. Your hand continued to run up and down the length of his cock, but it was hard to think straight when Aemond touched you.
“Can I feel your cock inside of me too?” Your question was genuine, if not laden with lust. It was all Aemond needed to hear before his hand reached your hip pushing you onto your back. He kissed you, hungrier than ever, barely giving you chance to keep up.
“Mirros syt ao.” (Anything for you.) He said in between kisses. He spread your legs apart, eyeing your soaking cunt, and stroked himself a couple of times before leaning over you, elbow resting beside your head. You felt as he ran his cock up and down from your clit to your core, a low groan leaving his lips. “Remember to breathe deeply, Dōna.” (Sweet). You nodded, unsure of what to expect. Aemond’s weight shifted, and you gasped as his cock slowly slid into you. Your brows furrowed as the slight discomfort slid away and was replaced with a new pleasure. His cock bottomed out, and you reached your hand to his cheek, pulling him in for a desperate kiss. He slowly started thrusting, the pace was painfully slow, but he was determined to make you feel good. As his pace picked up, his cock continuously hit a spot in your pussy that his fingers did not, causing a rather loud moan to escape your lips. “Mazemā ziry sīr sȳrī.” (You take it so well.) His praise caused a familiar tightening to start to form in your stomach.
“I love the way you feel.” Your moans filled his ears, fuelling him to go faster. His hand free hand snaked between your bodies and found your clit once more. His thrusts pounded into you, as his fingers diligently worked at your sensitive clit. The headboard begun to crack against the wall with each movement, not that either of you noticed. The quiet but delicious moans that left Aemond’s mouth were enough to ride towards your peak, the coil in your stomach tightening as you gripped your nails into his back. “Fuck! Aemond!” You exclaimed. His large cock filling you up and his fingers playing with your clit caused your orgasm to wash over you, feeling yourself tighten around his cock. His thrusts became quick and erratic as you rode out your high and his groans growing louder and more animalistic as he finished inside of you.
He panted, dropping to his elbow, and planting a small kiss upon your cheek, before pulling out of you slowly. You groaned at the loss of the fullness, missing the feeling of him already. Aemond lay beside you, pulling you by your hips to have your back against his chest. As both of your breathing slowly returned to normal you felt a small shiver run across your body, now aware of the breeze through the window. Aemond’s hand came up and ran up and down the length of your arm and pulled you close. “Is it possible to remain here all day.” You sighed, cuddling the blankets in front of you.
Aemond chuckled, “It is not our name day.” He planted a small kiss upon your shoulder. “But I do think people may notice both of our absences.” He spoke softly, with a small amount of his serious tone peeking through. You groaned, liking the feeling of being in Aemond’s arm, in his bed.
“Aemond?” You questioned, turning slightly to face him. He hummed a ‘hmm?’ in response, opening his eye. “Kessa gaomā bona run lēda aōha ēngos arlī gō īlon return naejot se rūklun?” (Will you do that thing with your tongue again before we return to the party?). A playful smirk returned to his face as he shifted above you on the bed.
“Va moriot” (Always).
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The Fenton Effect
(Or that one time a few Waynes joined a polycule)
(This got really long)
Danny sighed as he looked out at the rest of the city from Tuckers office. His boyfriend had secured himself a spot at Wayne Enterprises for something something technology and his office was on like the bajillionth floor of the building. It had an amazing view though. If only there wasn’t so much smog in the air it might have been beautiful at night.
“Danny I thought you were picking up the kids today,” Tucker said with surprise as he walked in.
Danny shook his head smiling, “Sam said that she wanted Dante and Ellie to bond with her new girlfriend after school today so she will be picking them up.” He made his way over to Tucker, giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I heard that you had some free time today so I could tell you away for a bit. It’s been a while since the two of us have had some time to ourselves without children running around.”
Tucker eyed him suspiciously, “Did you call my boss and ask to take me out for a bit?”
Danny chuckled, “Maybe…” He sat down in a chair, “Well actually I was going to steal you anyways but I just happened to bump into Mr. Drake. He recognized me and told me that if I were to steal you for a bit he didn’t see anything.”
Tucker sighed, “Danny, you and Sam are always stealing me from work for dates, eventually I’m going to get written up!”
Danny pouted in response, “We only do it when you insist on double shifts for week. It’s almost like we miss our boyfriend. Besides if Me CEO agrees with me that you work too much, that’s saying something hun!”
Tucker thought for a moment and then looked back to Danny, “Okay. Let’s go out for a couple hours.”
Danny hopped out of the chair again, “Yay! There’s this new restaurant I found that is supposed to have amazing steak.” He took Tucker’s hand and led him out of the office.
“Mm you know how to treat a man don’t you?” Tucker said in response, letting Danny pull him along.
“I try,” Danny said back wiggling his eyebrows as they went to the elevator.
…
Jason sat on his bike. He wasn’t in his Red Hood gear at the moment since he was just doing some recon. According to Tim, there was a newer family in town that he needed to look into. Apparently one of his employees had a boyfriend that appeared to be an un registered meta of some kind. Which normally wouldn’t be a problem but there was also the detail that when Tim did a background check on the family, it came up that they had two children neither of which had birth certificates or adoption papers or anything. Like they had appeared out of nowhere. Though Tim doubted it, he had still sent Jason to check it out in the off chance trafficking or some other fishy shit was going on.
He looked at the photos Oracle had provided of the targets he was looking for. Two of the 3 were supposed to be arriving at this restaurant soon. An African American man, the one working for WE, named Tucker Foley. The other… well this was interesting. When Jason went to look at the photo of the other man he was looking for named Daniel Fenton, he noticed the photo was grainy and distorted.
“Babs why does this Fenton guy’s photo look like a horror movie filter?” he said into his comms.
“That’s the best I can provide you with Jason, I’m sorry. All photos anyone takes of him are like that. I tried to clean it up the best I could. The last known photo of this guy without distortion I can find on public domain is from a yearbook photo when he was 14,” she responded.
Well fuck okay. Something was definitely up.
“Could you send that yearbook photo my way? As long as the guy hasn’t made any drastic changes to his appearance like dyed his hair or some sort of Botox I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out,” he said softly as he didn’t want the car that pulled in next to his bike to hear him.
“On its way,” he heard from Babs before he started to pretend to be scrolling through his phone while the occupants of the car got out and entered the restaurant.
While on his phone he noticed a new message from Cass. She had met up with the woman of the family he was tracking. They had gone to the primary school to pick up the children and was on their way to get ice cream.
The message was followed by a selfie of herself holding hands with a goth woman with purple eyes and black hair. Jason recognized her as Samantha Manson from the third profile Babs had given him. On Samantha’s shoulders was a little girl with dark hair and blue eyes, laughing and reaching for the camera and at the woman’s side holding her hand was a small boy who looked the same age as the little girl who looked almost like a carbon copy of her. Probably twins. He was waving to the camera.
Jason immediatly noticed slight distortion around the children in the photo. Similar to the distortion from the Daniel Fenton file but not nearly as extreme as he could still identify the children in the photo if he were to see them out and about.
He sent Cass a thumbs up in response.
“I’m assuming you got the message too?” He spoke into his comms.
“I did. Looks like the kiddos might be whatever kind of meta this Daniel Fenton is. They do both carry his last name,” she responded.
“And his face…” Jason said as he pulled up the yearbook photo Babs sent him, “Are we sure these aren’t just his kids? Who cares if they weren’t properly documented, that kind of stuff happens all the time in small towns. Have you ever seen Clark’s papers? A fucking mess.”
He heard Oracle sigh, “I have unfortunately. I would be inclined to believe your theory except for the fact that based on their ages, they would have been born when Fenton was 15 but according to my records and from what I can get from Tim, Fenton is more inclined towards men.”
Jason scoffed, “Is that it? That’s not much of a reason at all. People experiment. I’m into guys too but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have a few girlfriends before figuring that out.”
“AND,” Babs continued (Jason had apparently interrupted her), “There’s also the bit where based on the DNA samples Cass has picked up from the kids and Tim has picked up from Fenton, all three of them have 100 percent identical DNA.”
Jason paused. If the DNA was all identical, how is it that two of them are male and the third is female? That wouldn’t be possible without some external fuckery. Not to mention two identical children who only have the DNA of one parent and not the other? This was definitely not right.
“Are you convinced we should look into it now?” He heard Oracle’s voice say into his comms.
“Yeah yeah I’m gonna poke around,” he said while hopping off his bike, “Let me know if anything else comes up.”
Jason ruffled a hand through his hair, took a fucking breath, and walked into the restaurant.
…
Sam wasn’t nervous…. no not at all. She was just taking her kids to get ice cream after school. With a really pretty lady….
Sam had met Cass a few weeks ago at a small cafe when she was stopping by to get Danny a coffee since he was holing himself up in his workshop for two days at that point and she was hoping the smell would tempt him out of his hole. The two of them got to talking, well signing, while waiting in line and they had hung out a few times since then. Danny and Tucker made fun of her crush but who wouldn’t crush on such a beautiful lady?
Now they were standing in line for the ice cream cart in the park. Not many people went to Ivy’s park but that just made it better for Sam because the line was never long. Besides, None of the plants ate you if you respected them and the ice cream was guaranteed to be Ivy Approved which meant it was ethically sourced.
Currently, Dante was signing to Cass (Cass had told Sam that they didn’t need to sign back if they didn’t want to but Sam had told her that signing was an important thing she wanted the kids and herself to get better at) about his new favorite star that Daddy taught him about and Ellie was playing with one of Ivy’s safer sentient plants. Sam kept an eye on her.
“Now what did I say about the plants at Miss Ivy’s park Ellie?” she called.
“I can look but no touch unless Miss Ivy’s says so,” Ellie called back, smiling. She seemed to have made a friend with a rather large flower.
Sam nodded and smiled when the child remembered.
She then felt a tap on her arm and looked to see Cass signing, “Not many people come to this park, you seem to not be afraid of the rogue who has claimed it?”
Sam shrugged and signed back while she spoke, “Poison Ivy may be an extremist but I respect her want to preserve natural flora and fawna. My boyfriends and I have already decided that we want to teach the children to respect those things as well since they are important for the health of the people and the Earth. So we come here since Ivy does not have anything against innocent children but if one of them were to misbehave with a sentient plant, they would have an easier time understanding why it is wrong because Dante and Ellie have higher empathy than most.”
Which was true. But also the reason it worked so well is because since the plants were kind of sentient, Ellie and Dante could tell if they accidentally killed one and it made them sad enough to not want to hurt them. They found that out on accident once and since then the children have been strangely fond of the park. But she wasn’t going to tell Cass that.
Sam was nervous that Cass didn’t like that but honestly they were her children and Cass didn’t seem opposed to the park in the first place when the kids suggested it.
After a few moments Cass nodded in response and signed, “Boyfriends? As in plural?”
That was not what Sam was expecting her to ask and it made her blush in embarrassment that she hadn’t explained it sooner. “I am polyamorous. I have two boyfriends. The three of us raise the children together,” she signed although he had a hard time remembering the sign for polyamorous so she ended up spelling it out.
“You all date each other?” Cass signed, curious.
Sam smiled, she didn’t seem to be judging her lifestyle which was something she didn’t find very often. It was part of the reason they had to leave Amity Park in the first place. It was helpful when Tucker got the Timothy Drake scholarship which was a full ride for Computer Science and Engineering at Gotham University.
When they moved into Gotham after that, they weren’t allowed to live on campus with him so Sam and Danny had to start out in a small apartment near Ivy’s Park so they always kept some plants in the window for protection since they had children of course. Since then, Sam had gotten a job as a personal assistant for some rich woman her family was friends with and Danny was working part time at as a bartender during the night shift and was a stay at home Daddy during the day until the kids were old enough for school.
When Tucker graduated he was immediately hired on at WE and not long after that, they bought their much nicer house in a much nicer neighborhood close to Wayne Manor. Was it mostly Tucker’s salary? Admittedly yes, WE pays very well to ensure the employees live in good neighborhoods. But Sam made quite a bit as well and since Danny got the space to tinker with his gadgets and quit bartending as often (he still did it occasionally when his old boss would ask), he had started making a good amount selling his one of a kind clocks mostly. Sam just knew Clockwork was so proud.
Sam signed as she spoke again, “Yes, Tucker is bisexual and Danny and I prefer the term pansexual. We are all together because we are poly (spells it out), and we are open to any of the three of us dating others as well as long as we all discuss and we are honest. Because we have kids we want to make sure our bond and trust is always strong. We want to be together for a long time. See the littles grow up and all that fun stuff.”
Sam was excited to talk about it with someone other than her boyfriends or Jazzy on the phone. No one ever actually wanted to listen about that stuff because people didn’t like things they didn’t understand right away.
They were at the head of the line now though it was going to have to wait until after they got their sweets. Sam corralled the kiddos and asked them what they wanted. Dante and Ellie decided they wanted to share a sundae and Sam ordered herself the Ivy recommended option of the week. She also offered to pay for whatever Cass ordered but before she could, the woman was already paying for everyone.
Sam lead the kids to a park bench where they all sat down. Ellie and Dante immediately started to rock paper scissors for the cherry on top and it wasn’t long until Dante tried to cheat and Sam confiscated the cherry so they wouldn’t start fighting. She didn’t need them to accidentally use their powers in public.
“You didn’t have to pay,” she said, “But thank you.”
Cass smiled and very softly said, “It’s okay. I like you.”
Sam’s cheeks burned. Cass had told her that she did speak sometimes and that her mutism was selective but she didn’t expect her voice to sound so… pretty.
…
Jason immediately found the targets in a corner table. Most notably a corner table that Fenton had a view of every exit from. Only people who are used to either defending or fleeing at a moment’s notice did that. It wasn’t helping the theory that something was going on.
Fenton hadn’t changed much from the highschool yearbook photo. He looked slightly taller and he had slightly broader shoulders than before but overall the guy was still lanky and thin. His hair was still dark and he still styled it in a similar way. His eyes were still huge and round on his face. The most noticeable difference to the photo though? Danny was much MUCH paler. Almost like a walking corpse. And the eyebags were hard to miss.
Jason sat himself at a table within earshot of the two, ordering himself a beer and some appetizer he didn’t actually read. He was much too focused on listening.
For the most part, it seemed pretty normal stuff. Work, flirting with one another, commenting on the food. But then it got interesting when Foley brought up their supposed children.
“Dante told me you taught him about the dog constellation the other day. He told me Sirius was his new favorite star,” Foley mused.
A chuckle from Fenton, “Yes, he has been super into animals recently so I showed him some constellations like the dog, serpent, eagle, bull. That sort of thing. We used your old PDA to look up where they were in the sky and even pulled up pictures of some of the stars. He was floating with excitement when I showed him the Sirius star. He lost control though and Sam had to help me get him off the ceiling.”
Floating?
“I never thought I would say that I am glad that they don’t have all their tricks yet. Imagine if either of them went intangible when they were infants. I would have had a heart attack,” Foley responded.
Intangibility?
“Tell me about it! Highschool would have been a hell of a time if either of their eyes started glowing. We wouldn’t have had babysitters while we were in class,” Fenton remarked.
Glowing eyes?
“We already hardly had babysitters. I remember taking Ellie to math class,” Foley seemed to chuckle at the memory.
Jason noted all of the strange things the two seemed to be expecting of the children at some point. It was definitely not non meta human type stuff. One thing he did note though was that they seemed to have had the kids since infancy which at least boosts the chances of the children being their own and not trafficked or stolen.
Fenton got up apparently to use the restroom and Foley got up from his seat to sit in Fenton’s while he was gone. More suspicious behavior. But from what Jason could tell, out of the two of them Fenton was the one who would be the first to react. He sat with the view first and only after his leaving did Foley feel the need to take up the same position.
Jason considered leaving right then but he knew that he wasn’t going to get answers that way. The other reason he didn’t leave right away was a message from Cass.
Cass: They are polyamorous.
Jason didn’t know what that meant. He sent back a question mark.
Cass: They are polyamorous. Fenton, Foley, and Manson are all dating each other. They raise the kids together in one household with 3 parents.
Jason thought about it. That would make sense as to why they all shared one address. There was one thing though that it did open up. If Fenton was indeed dating both of the other two, that would mean that he was attracted to women. The kids biologically very well could have been his and he was simply a teen dad.
Jason: Has Manson mentioned carrying them or any mention of a mother?
Cass: No. She treats them as her own but she shows no sign of previous pregnancy. Plus neither of them look like Sam at all.
Jason: Noted. Keep me updated.
If Manson wasn’t the biological mother, it didn’t mean someone else couldn’t have been one. Jason didn’t really know how any of this polyamory stuff worked but from the way Foley was describing it, the relationship had already been established when the children entered their lives. Unless Fenton was unfaithful in some way? Jason sighed, biting his knuckles as he felt the pressure in his chest. The pits were acting up.
Jason looked up from his phone once he felt it calm down just to see blue eyes glaring at him. Fenton was standing a few feet from his table, his eyes staring directly into Jason’s soul. The man looked offended as if Jason had done something to him.
Suddenly he felt the Lazarus pits acting up again. It felt like he was shot through the chest with a spear of ice. Like… he was getting told off for saying something bad. And it felt like… it came from Fenton? Somehow?
Jason tried to make sense of it, looking at the man in front of him but he seemed to be satisfied with whatever the fuck that was and went back to his table, giving Foley a kiss on the cheek.
“You alright Danny? You glitched for a second there,” Foley said.
Fenton scoffed, “Some dead guy’s core let out a signal that pissed me off. Tried to insinuate that I cheated on you and Sam. Fucking prick.”
Jason panicked. How did this fucker know he died? Things were getting weirder and weirder and now this guy knew things about him that he shouldn’t have… he had to keep following these guys.
…
Okay so Jason didn’t get much after that. He followed Fenton and Foley back to WE from a distance. Or at least at a distance that was far enough for the pits to not act up. Ever since Fenton got close to him at the restaurant, the pits were going crazy. It was like the man made it feel different. There was no anger or violent urge. It was like he wanted to do something but he didnt really know what it was. But he knew it wasn’t hitting people like usual.
Nothing much happened and once he and Cass were recalled to the Batcave, he retreated and went to go meet B and the others. Even Tim had taken a lunch break for once to meet up.
“So what are your reports,” Bruce asked.
Before Jason could get a word out, Cass started signing excitedly and very fast. He didn’t catch hardly any of it.
“Cass, slow down a bit,” Bruce said trying his best to sign back what he knew.
Jason paid closer attention this time as Cass signed at a pace everyone could understand.
“I think Sam is really nice and a good mom. We went to the school together to pick up the twins and they were very happy children. Ellie was very bubbly and and Dante was much calmer. Sam took us to the park to get ice cream after and we talked a lot. She, Danny, and Tucker are in a polyamorous relationship and are raising the kids together. They said that they were open as well if any of them wanted to date others. They trust each other a lot and love the kids a lot. Sam had good values and was teaching the kids the same. I think they are unconventional but very happy as a family. Like us.”
Jason watched as the others nodded, some seeming to understand it more than others. Someone was definitely going to have to sit Bruce down and explain it. He was also going to ask for more of a crash course later. Probably from Cass directly. Or maybe Babs if she knew.
After a few moments of processing what he did understand Bruce turned to Jason, “And what did you find out.”
“Shit’s weird with Fenton. I’m going to go back and get more intel,” Jason stated, “But from what I got on the kids? They’ve been taking care of them since infancy. Mentioned parenting them as babies in high school. And they seem to think that they are going to develop powers. Glowing eyes and intangibility. Fenton mentioned the boy Dante being able to float already. Definitely metas.”
“Maybe we are being over paranoid. It sounds like a teen pregnancy situation in a small town where paperwork isn’t always filed properly,” said Steph, putting her hands in her hips.
Jason shook his head, “Nah that Fenton guy is fucking weird. Did shit that Bruce taught us. Made sure the table was seated in a corner where he had a view of every exit. Civilians don’t do that shit.”
“Only people who are expecting a fight do,” Tim agreed.
The entire room knew that was one of the first things Bruce taught them when it came to safety in public. In their line of work they always had to be vigilant for every possibility.
Bruce conceded, “Jason, keep following Fenton. I have some things I need to look up I think.”
…
Danny was fucking PISSED. How fucking dare that guy have the nerve to not only think that but then broadcast the insinuation from his weak ass core? He would never EVER cheat on Sam and Tucker! He would NEVER betray their trust like that!
He fiddled with his newest clock commission angrily, his core feeling personally attacked. There was a fear that wasn’t really working right and he was probably going to have to remake it but honestly he didn’t really care at the moment.
“Danny…” he heard Sam call. Her voice made his core feeling personally the slightest bit better.
Danny leaned up from his clock and looked to see his beautiful girlfriend in the doorway, “Hi Sam.” He sighed, trying to let the anger fall away. How could he ever betray his loves?
Sam must have read his face like a book because she walked over and slid her arms around him from behind.
“You’re brooding baby,” she cooed, leaving a kiss on his cheek.
“I just can’t believe that guy! The fucking nerve,” Danny growled. Though his growl didn’t have any sort of malice behind it at the moment. Sam knew how to calm him down. Physical touch was one of his love languages.
“Danny it’s been a week since you saw him on your date. And you put him in his place. I know you would never do that. Tuck knows. That’s all that matters,” she said softly.
She was right of course. But Danny’s ghost instincts were super protective and he couldn’t help it sometimes. But again, she was right. He let himself take a deep breath mostly for her benefit to show he was trying to get over it.
“Good. Keep taking deep breaths. It’s okay to feel protective and it’s okay to let the feeling subside when the danger is gone,” Sam continued to talk softly, knowing she could talk sweetly to him until he felt better.
It was working. Danny focused on letting his core relax, the danger was gone. The only entities in his haunt were himself, his partners, and his children. No threat.
Next thing Danny heard was whooshing sounds as his kiddos flew into the room, both in their ghost forms. Their hair was white and their eyes glowed. Ellie’s glowed green and Dante’s glowed red.
When Dante first transformed, Danny, Tuck and Sam were unsure if they were going to be red or green since they were red back when he was Dan. When they did glow red, Danny guessed that it was most likely because it was what was familiar to him.
“Dante found a cool rock,” Ellie said excitedly.
Dante then presented the cool rock for Danny and Sam to look at. It was purple and looked like one of the crystals Sam liked to collect.
“Where did you find it,” he asked, just to make sure they didn’t just steal it from the collection Sam kept in her room.
“It was on the floor in Papa’s office,” Dante said proudly. Ah. It must have fallen out of one of Sam’s pockets at some point.
Danny smiled, looking at his son’s pride in finding it, “Good find buddy!” He turned his head to look at Sam, “What kind of rock is it Momma?”
Sam ceremoniously took the rock from Dante and used Danny’s bright work table lamp to get a look at it, “This seems to be a purple amethyst. Good work Dante.” She smiled brightly, encouraging the excitement of the kiddos for the find.
“Purple amythest,” Ellie repeated excitedly.
“It’s really pretty Momma,” Dante said, looking at the small polished stone. Danny could feel his son’s core buzzing happily about it.
“Why don’t you keep it in your room Dante? Then you can look at it whenever you want to,” Sam said smiling and giving it back to the floating red eyed child.
“Really?” Dante asked.
“Of course kiddo,” Danny added. He felt Dante’s core give off a burst of happiness. It made him smile.
“I’ll go put it in my room!” the boy said happily and flew through the wall out of the room.
Ellie then began to pout, “How come I don’t get a pretty rock?”
“When you find one, you’ll get to keep it too,” Sam smiled, “Now I believe your Papa mentioned a Bluey marathon scheduled for tonight. Why don’t you go get your brother and maybe together you can convince Papa to make you some popcorn?”
Danny felt Ellie’s core start to buzz with excitement and determination as she nodded and flew out of the room fast.
Once Ellie was out of the room, Sam gave Danny a kiss on the cheek, “Since Tuck is watching the kids tonight, how about we go get you some more relaxed?”
Danny chuckled, feeling his core buzz. He closed up the clock he had been working on and came to a stand, facing Sam.
“More like wear me out,” he said, giving her a kiss.
“Well of course,” Sam smirked as she took his hand and led him to her bedroom.
…
Jason watched Fenton for like a week. A whole ass week and he got absolutely nothing on the guy. The only times he ever left his house was for dates with either Foley or Manson or to pick up his kids. At this point Jason was positive they were his in some capacity. The DNA proved that much and he seemed like a pretty standard stay home dad. There was one time that week where after school he took Dante and Ellie to an observatory but as long as Jason wasn’t close enough for the pits to react to him he seemed like just some guy.
Jason slumped onto the couch in the first floor living room of the manor. He didn’t like being here but everyone was out busy today and apparantly someone in the family needed to be there to sign off on some sort of delivery. He didn’t understand why Alfred couldn’t just sign it but the butler had refused, insisting that Jason be the one to do it. It was so annoying.
It wasn’t like he had anything to do that day anyways. Periodically he had all his guys in his organization take a day off and he had promised them today. Not to mention he was “on rest” from patrolling after his fucking helmet broke after falling down a fire escape. Embarrassing as fuck. But he still had to wait for a new one because that was his last spare.
He just didn’t understand. On the surface level, Fenton seemed like a normal ass dude. But he knew what he felt. And knew what he heard. The fucker could tell Jason was kind of dead. And he did.. something to him at that restaurant. The pits kept pulling him toward the guy like he was some sort of fucking magnet.
“Master Jason, the delivery is at the front door sir,” Alfred said appearing out of fucking nowhere.
“Thank you Alfred,” he said as he got up to go do the stupid signing thing. Once it was done, he could jet outta there and start following Fenton around again.
Jason made his way to the front door and opened it only to find it was none other than the creepy fucker himself. The pits sparked in his chest making him squeeze the door a little too hard.
“You,” said the pale man, his eyes burning with disgust. The pits didn’t like that. Suddenly, Jason had an urge to make sure the anger on the man’s face went away. At first Jason thought that was fucking stupid but honestly… being nice might be a good plan.
Now that they were face to face in proper lighting, Jason was able to really get a good look at Daniel Fenton. Of course he knew what the guy looked like. Obviously. He had been stalking him. But this was the first time he had been able to really register it.
Like he had noted before, his hair was dark and he was pale as fuck. But what he hadn’t seen before was the way his hair was blacker than anything he had ever seen before, shining in places that the locks caught the light almost like little stars in a night sky. His eyes were big and bold, an icy hue that that sent shivers down the spine. He was pale of course but not in the way that made one think he had never seen sun before, more in the way that dead bodies look during funerals. All the blood drained from the body. His cheekbones were sharp giving his face a sunken in look like he was malnourished even though Jason fucking knew he wasn’t. His stature was lean and lanky but clearly he was hiding some muscle because he was carrying a big ass clock that no doubt weighed a shit ton like it was nothing.
Jason hated to admit it. He really did. However. Daniel Fenton was attractive.
…
Danny couldn’t fucking believe it. That dead motherfucker was a Wayne. His core buzzed with anger and he had to take a breath to calm it.
“Yeah it’s me,” said the asshole.
Danny sighed and maneuvered the clock into one arm and gave paper to the guy, “Just sign it.”
Now after doing this he realized that casually holding a heavy ass clock like a football was not the normal thing to do since the man obviously took note of it as he stared a little too long before taking the sign form. However, he already made the decision and he was gonna have to stick to the bit.
Once this guy signed the paper and took the clock he could just leave. Just fucking go. And he could make a note to never take a commission from this address again so he wouldn’t have to see him again. He could do that.
“Hey, I’m sorry about what happened,” the really fucking large man said as he signed the paper. Danny checked the guy’s core. He was being genuine. And it was also giving off confused vibes. Ancients, why- This guy didn’t even know what he did. Fucking of course. Ughhhh and now because Danny was a good person he was gonna have to explain it to him. Fucking great.
Danny sighed, “It’s… fine. Where do you want me to install the clock?” He wasn’t going to talk about this shit openly. He could do it once they were inside.
The man seemed confused but let him in anyways, “I don’t really know where B wants it. For now I guess you could put it on this table over here.”
Danny noted the small table in the entrance hall and put it down where he was told to. Once his hands were free, he collected the sign form from the man and folded it, storing it away in his back pocket.
“Now, I assume you have a shit ton of questions,” he said.
The tall man nodded, “So fucking many.”
A butler escorted them to a sitting room of sorts and disappeared again without a sound.
“Are you okay with him possibly overhearing any information I give you….” Danny realized he didn’t actually know this guy’s name.
“Yeah that’s fine,” said the man, sitting in a chair. Danny decided to sit across from him on a couch. It was off putting how docile this guy was acting with just how fucked up his core seemed to be.
“My name is Daniel Fenton. You can call me Danny. It seems you were never really explained to about this whole being dead thing,” Danny started. He didn’t really know how to go about this. With Dante and Ellie it had always been free knowledge for them to ask about whenever they needed but there was no sit down conversation where he had to like, reveal their identities or anything.
“No. I wasn’t aware there were rules,” the man said, a smile tugging at his lips at his own joke. Now normally, Danny would laugh at that. Because let’s be honest, he would. But he was a bit caught up in realizing that this guy he spent that last week hating was fucking huge. Tall as fuck. At least 6 foot. And his wingspan had be just fucking outrageous. His shoulders were wider than Danny’s front door at home.
Once he noticed that, Danny took an actual good look at the guy. His hair was black mostly, with a signature white streak in the front, no doubt a side effect of dying. It seemed to be a permanent feature rather than something brought on by transformation like for Danny and his kiddos. His eyes were blue, a solemn almost sad blue but they were still very beautiful. He had eyebags for days, probably didn’t get the proper nutrition very often only eating human food with no ecto in his diet. Sleep was probably not a thing either. He was nothing but muscle all over, no doubt an effect of him dying and then getting better. He was covered in scars as well that looked as though they healed a little too quickly to be proper. All in all, everything pointed to gaining the very sliver of his ghost powers without any of them making it to the finish line. Even so, he was the type of guy anyone with eyeballs would swoon over.
“Mr…… Wayne?” Danny guessed. He immediately felt the man’s core recoil in disgust. Okay so not Wayne.
“Todd. My name is Jason Todd. My dad is Wayne. Not me. Just- just call me Jason,” the man said quickly.
Danny nodded and redirected, “Jason, before I start explaining all this stuff, when did you die and how come that’s not the case anymore?”
He again felt Jason’s core want to pull back but none the less he still answered, “I was… I don’t know? 15-16? I don’t fucking remember it was a while ago. Anyways, apparently I got revived by the Lazarus Pits so I was only dead for like 6 months or something.”
Danny nodded solemnly. He knew what it was like to die young. And of course Jason’s core and ghost powers were all fucked up. Those pits were nothing but a shit ton of toxic, contaminated ecto. He wasn’t surprised that when given the chance to create a halfa they would do it in the shittiest way possible.
“Okay so basically, you’re gonna want to buckle in cuz this is about to be a lot,” Danny said, making himself comfortable. They were gonna be here a while.
…
Tim paced his office. Back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth back and forth. This was a bad idea. Yes, the Fentons had been cleared but it was still a bad idea. To be honest, he didn’t really want to think about the fact that his favorite employee had been searched by his family for suspicious behavior a month ago.
Yes. His favorite employee. Tucker Foley. Not just his favorite employee but the best one who had never turned in a report late or found a problem he couldn’t fix. Technically his name was Tucker Fenton but the name change wasn’t official yet. Polyamorous marriage was illegal so the family had to send in papers to change their names legally so they would share a last name with their children.
Tim had been eyeing Tucker since he met him which was honestly far too long after he had joined the company. He had been so busy that he had never actually seen the guy face to face until he happened to pass his office and saw the man dutifully typing away at his computer.
He remembered just how immediately he noticed the attractiveness of the man and at first was sad to hear he was in a relationship. He thought he was with a woman named Sam at first. And then a few weeks later he started seeing Danny in the office too. Tucker was poly. Had two partners. And two children with them. A family man.
Then his family started tracking them all and it gave him an excuse to hang around Tucker at the office as much as possible. Of course he only ever got normal vibes from the guy until he noticed some background tabs running on the PDA he used alongside the desktop the company provided.
Of course Tim found time during a date Danny and Tucker went on for lunch to snoop through it. The tabs were all mostly data except one that was in the process of breaking down a government firewall with a prewritten program. Some organization called the GIW. Tim looked through the rest of the computer. There were files on Tim and the rest of his family. Files on WE. Files on the company’s funding and where it all went. He had done his homework before taking the job clearly.
Of course it all looked suspicious at the time. But things had changed since then. Danny Fenton had sat Jason down and explained a lot of things. Who they were, why they were in Gotham. Who they used to be. It made alot of sense.
And it made sense why Danny readily shared the information so freely. After Tim found the files on the PDA, of course he hacked it and sent it over to Babs. After Jason made a fool of himself at the restaurant, the PDA started having files added to it. Of the Bats and the birds. And a very well written and polite file stating that Tucker knew his PDA was fucked with. The vigilante files were his way of telling everyone he knew who they were.
So the Tucker guy was fucking smart and didn’t really give two shits about computer privacy. Now any normal sane person would have found this very concerning but for Tim it only fueled the highly inappropriate crush he had begun to develop on the guy. How hot is it that the guy was cordial enough to write a file detailing that he knew they were watching him and that he was honored to have been hacked?
So… there Tim was in his office. Pacing. He was about to do the craziest shit. He was about to ask out the hot guy from the tech department. Was it a good idea? No. Absolutely not. This guy was about as crazy as he was. Oh but he liked that. He really fucking liked that. He also loved the tracker he found in his shirt after stopping into the guys office to give him some paperwork. It had taken him about a week and a half to find it and since Tim only had 3 shirts he wore to the office, he wore it around alot in that time.
After that, Tim left his own tracker in Tucker’s PDA only for Babs to find a new file on it that simply stated, “Found it.”
How fucking hot was that? He found it in no time even after Tim had taken the time to make sure it was inside the thing. Since then they had been placing trackers on one another whenever they passed, taking turns and making sure the other knew when they had found it. Tucker was always faster. He had yet to take longer than 24 hours to find it no matter where Tim hid it. It was like the hottest kind of flirting Tim could fucking imagine.
So… now that Tucker was cleared of any suspicion, he was free game. When Cass told everyone in the Batcave that the relationship was open to other partners, he nearly had to turn around in order to hide the excitement from his face. He kept his cool though, obviously, he was a professional.
He didn’t mind Tucker Fenton having other partners. He didn’t mind that he had kids. He wasn’t the only one either. He could tell that Cass was crushing hard on Sam and sure enough a week ago, the two of them were official. Now he just had to make his move and ask Tucker out. That was all.
Tim heard a ding on his phone. He looked to see who it was. Barbara.
Babs: New file just got saved to the Fenton PDA.
Tim’s heart raced. Tucker had probably found the tracker he had slid under his collar during their meeting that morning.
Babs: You two really need to bone, this is getting ridiculous.
Tim: WHAT DID THE FILE SAY BABS
Babs: I didn’t open it. The file is literally titled “For Tim Drake (if anyone else opens this I’ll make sure a virus melts your software)”
Hot.
Tim: Pull it up on my desktop.
Babs: On its way you sicko.
Tim rushed to his computer to see a file open on the screen. It was a google doc that Tim was given permission to edit. At first, the doc seemed blank but he knew Tucker well enough now that he knew that there was more to it.
He used his mouse and clicked Select All and sure enough, white writing appeared on the screen. He changed it to black so he could read it properly and he found a series of dashes and dots. Morse code.
Tim felt his heart rate rise at the little game. He had told Tucker in passing that he couldn’t read Morse code but he knew how to sit down and translate it if he wanted to. And the man was so perfect he had remembered.
Tim got out a piece of paper and started decoding the message that looked to be like a poem of sorts. It didn’t take long at all. It turned out to be a series of quotes from media and literature that Tim had at one point brought up enjoying in passing.
“All we can know is that we know nothing. And that is the height of human wisdom.”
“She had an evil face, smoothed by hypocrisy; but her manners were excellent.”
“Knowledge is power.”
“Memory is not what the heart desires. That is only a mirror.”
“Elementary, my dear Watson.”
“O Captain! My Captain!”
“Unless I be relieved by prayer, which pierces so, that it assaults mercy itself, and frees all faults. As you from crimes would pardon'd be, let your indulgence set me free.”
“To die would be an awfully great adventure.”
Tim stared at the quotes knowing that there was more meaning to them. Knowing Tucker, there was probably a certain letter or word from each phrase he needed. He wasn’t provided with a key to solve it so it must have been pretty simple. Then he got it. And his heart raced.
He responded by calling his secretary to tell one Tucker Fenton (Foley) that he needed to send in in his schedule for the next week.
Not 20 minutes later did he see new writing on the google doc, “I’m free Friday night.” Who cared if it was a bad idea.
Tim smiled wide, texting Babs excitedly.
Tim: TELL B I CANT PATROL ON FRIDAY
Babs: Why?
Tim: IM GOING ON A DATE
Little did Tim know that the moment Barbara saw the message, she breathed a sigh of relief, “Fucking finally.”
…
Okay so here was the deal. After Danny had explained everything (including the pits actually being a core and the fact that Danny’s children were the de-aged results of cloning and timeline fuckery), he had started helping Jason stabilize his core. And Jason was thankful for that but at the same time… as more and more time went on spending his off moments with the guy, his core was acting all kinds of weird. He didn’t really know how to tell Danny about it because the last time he had tried to explain the weird pull and very odd pleased hum his core had whenever he was around Danny, the guy had waved it off as because he was the Ghost King and all that. Jason was trying to believe that was the case but now that he was in the Fenton household sitting across from Danny in his workshop… it was hard to ignore.
“Well Jason, you definitely look a lot better than a week ago,” Danny said while staring into Jason’s chest. He knew that it was because his core was supposedly around that area but with the fact that he was wearing a t shirt that had shrunk in the shitty dryer in his apartment, he was feeling a little exposed.
“That’s good,” he said clenching his fist to try and ignore the almost purring sensation his core made at the compliment.
“Just a few months and you’ve been reconstructing it really well,” Danny said continuing to stare.
Jason nodded, he had been trying to do the things Danny told him to, added pure ecto to his diet and tried being more open to listen to his core. Although most of the work had been done by Danny, placing his hands on Jason’s chest, shuffling his shattered core pieces around and trying to fit them back together. It had been a joke for a long time that he “came back wrong” but according to the literal Ghost King, it was actually fucking true.
Jason noticed Danny was still staring. His core buzzed, liking the attention. He had to try and distract himself.
“So I noticed when I came in it was awfully quiet. Normally Dante and Ellie meet me at the door,” he said, clenching his fist tighter. He had to change the subject.
Danny looked up from his chest, “Oh uh yeah. Sam and Cass are on a date and Tucker took the kids out to an escape room with Tim. So it’s uh… just us at home at the moment.”
Jason wasn’t as good at reading body language as Cass but he knew enough to know that Danny was acting stiff around him which he wasn’t used to since before they started his core reconstruction therapy.
“I get you all to myself then,” he said chuckling trying to be lighthearted. Was Jason normally this civil around other people? Fuck no. But with Danny… he really couldn’t help it. It honestly felt more like the old him before he died. Before he went all… murder psycho because he literally came back wrong.
He watched as the shorter man in front of him began to actually gain some color in his cheeks. Holy hell he didn’t know Danny was capable of that. He thought the dead guy look was a permanent thing. Jason kind of liked it though.
“I guess you do,” Danny said allowing a small smirk onto his face.
Oh. OH. Jason’s core really liked that. And it must have done one of those things where it told all the other dead people around because Danny’s smile grew wider. What Jason didn’t expect was feeling a mutual positive energy from Danny’s core in response.
Jason felt his own cheeks start to burn the slightest bit, not really knowing why.
“Actually Jason… I didn’t ask you here today just to check on your core. Or because I’m technically your king and I can,” Danny said.
Ah yeah that. Jason knew that because he was dead Danny was technically like, royalty to him. But it had never really clicked since he never acted all high and mighty like that whenever they were together. Which was a lot. But now that Danny mentioned it… he technically could have have power over Jason that he could use whenever he wanted.
His cheeks burned a bit more at that, his core reacting the same way it did before. He really needed to get more control over the sending out core vibes thing because Danny reacted to it again.
The Ghost King’s cheeks grew pink, “I didn’t know you were into that,” he said, leaning back in his chair, the motion causing light to reflect off of his hair like stars, “I wanted to talk to you because your core has been flirting with me non stop since we started your reconstruction therapy.”
Ah fuck. Jason knew Danny was hot but his core was really betraying him by telling him that.
He looked away, embarrassed. Admittedly, it wasn’t like the thought to flirt hadn’t ever crossed his mind. After Babs, with come help from Cass, really explained what polyamory was to him, he had entertained the idea once just to see what would happen but Jason very honestly didn’t know if he liked the idea himself or if it was just his core longing to be close to its king. Or at least that what he was telling himself
“Listen I’m not mad Jason,” Danny said. Jason felt cold fingers brush his cheek to turn his head to face the man. His body reacted the same way if always did when Danny touched his chest for reconstruction. Like a very pleasant bolt of lightning had stuck him, the buzz spreading throughout his body.
Jason knew Danny was a touchy kind of person and he had accepted that but god fucking damn it was still a lot of physical feeling from one touch that he wasn’t used to.
Jason had dated other guys before. He had been more than close and personal with a few. But touch was always a dull feeling when it came to anybody. Danny was the only person he could really… feel. Like back when he was alive. Every touch felt real and not disconnected. He could actually feel the pressure of a hand on his skin and the tingle of when skin brushed his own. It was… electrifying for the lack of a better term.
“I just want to talk about it,” Danny said.
Jason didn’t know how to talk. He didn’t even really know how he felt. He was running on pure instinct and LOTS of willpower to fight said instinct.
“Danny, I- don’t know how-,” Jason started, not really knowing how to communicate into words about it. Clearly he didn’t have to as he could tell his core had betrayed him again.
“It’s okay. I can talk. And if I say anything you don’t like or agree with, you can let me know. How’s that?” Danny asked. It was right about now Jason noticed that Danny hadn’t let go of his face and he was really close. His core liked that. And honestly, so did he. Jason didn’t mind staring into those big blue eyes for a bit. He nodded.
“I like you Jason,” Danny started. Jason’s core? Loved that. But Jason’s brain and probably his heart was waiting for the “but.”
“And so does my core. I think you are good for me,” Danny continued. There was no “but.” It made Jason’s innards do a fucking somersault into the splits.
“Wait you do?” Jason asked, studying Danny’s face. He was still blushing which was a good sign but sometimes you just need to be sure and double check you know?
Danny nodded, making Jason’s core buzz excitedly. Now up until this moment, Jason was very much repressing his own thoughts when it came to Danny. He was slow to catch up when it came to, well, feelings. Well let’s just say Jason was all caught up now. And his cheeks were burning as his lips curled into a smirk.
Jason felt a very strong core response from his king, full of flustered and dare he say lustful emotion that made his core and his chest burn with a desire to pull towards him.
Jason was no good with words. Terrible infact. And Danny knew that about him. So if he had any chance of communicating effectively, he had to take his foot off the brake and let his instinct do what it wanted.
“I’m about to do something stupid,” Jason warned. And then he pulled Danny closer into a kiss.
He felt Danny’s core purr in response as Jason’s lips felt like they were dancing on lightning. Everything felt right. He let his core say whatever the hell it wanted because it knew what to do. He just focused on how right right everything felt.
After they broke apart from the kiss, mostly because Jason needed air in a way Danny really didn’t, he locked eyes with the gorgeous man in front of him. Now that he wasn’t restraining himself, he was letting himself take in Danny’s beauty.
“Be my boyfriend,” Danny breathed, an icy sensation tickled Jason’s ear as Danny’s breath left the slightest bit of an icy fog in the air.
“Deal,” Jason responded, his breath catching up.
Jason’s body burned with sensation and he wondered if this was what being alive felt like and Danny pulled him into another deep kiss and hurriedly dragged him to a bedroom.
…
Extra:
Bruce at some point after all this: Where are all of my children?
Alfred: Well sir, almost half of them are at the Fenton household at the moment and the others…
Bruce didn’t even listen to the rest, he just sighed. He should have known. Fentons had that effect. He still remembered Jack from college.
#dc x dp#dcxdp#dc x dp crossover#dead on main#technogeek#green thumbs#everlasting trio#de aged dan#de aged ellie#batfam#danny phantom x dc
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Good to the Last Drop (Vander x Male Reader)
"Well, well. What's a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?"
You glance over at Vander, raising an eyebrow at the joke.
"Well, I thought it was a good line." Vander chuckles. "It's been a while since I've seen you."
He holds out his arms and lets you come to him before he wraps them around you, nearly enveloping you in his chest.
"Missed me, did you?"
"Yeah," you chuckle. "Life topside sucks without you. And that was a terrible line."
"At least they let you back whenever you want, eh? So you can hear my poorly thought-out lines."
You're basically the only person who regularly uses the one poorly maintained gondola between topside and the undercity.
About three years ago, Vander cashed in a favor from a connection of his to get you admitted to the Academy in Piltover, your creativity and skill honed and forged to help the city thrive, and you both hoped, to help Zaun just as much.
Though students at the University are often held to a high standard of behavior and merit, you were able to work hard enough to find your way back.
A lengthy process involving finding and renting out an apartment-workspace with the help of a sponsor so you no longer had to deal with curfews
and eventually being able to comfortably ride down to Zaun to see your friends and family.
Vander has been good to you - the Hound of the Underground is much like a father to everyone who calls themselves a member of Zaun.
But you hope he still sees you as more.
You never had the courage to tell him how you felt.
You were too young, too inexperience, too green - how could he ever love someone like you, you thought?
You sigh softly in Vander's arms and he puts you at arm's length, though his big hands still hold your shoulders. "What's wrong?"
"Some of those kids called me a Piltie on my way here." You chuckle wryly. "I didn't realizing I was losing that undercity edge."
Your hair, once shaved and wild like the young punk you were, now grows out, healthier than ever now that you spend less time in the toxic smog of Zaun, and all traces of the wild neon dyes are gone.
Vander runs a hand through your hair, the gentle tug not doing anything to help your focus, and gives a low hum.
"Screw em. You can take the man out of the undercity..."
He pulls you behind the bar. "Here, make yourself whatever you want."
"Really? You're putting me to work on my vacation?" you joke.
"Smart mouth." Vander teases back. "I don't want you leaving my sight. I'm claimin' all the rest of your time down here. Let me just settle up and then I'm yours."
You make yourself a juice - it's nostalgic and has that sweet tang you can't seem to find in Piltover - and watch Vander as he proudly mentions to some patrons that you're back.
It's clear he never once forgot you. Always kept you close.
And you love him for it.
Damn... you love him.
Some tipsy punk, swaggering all over the bar, eyes you up and leans against the counter, balancing precariously on his elbow. "Hey, what's a pretty thing like you doing in a dump like this?"
Before you can giggle at the idea of having two different men say that to you, a massive hand swipes the elbow off the table, and the drunk punk's face slams into the bar and he slumps out of sight.
"Sorry about that. I don't allow terrible pick-up lines in my bar." Vander smirks.
He's imposing and big and terribly close to you right now, protective and strong...
But you can only think about one thing.
"So, that was a pick up line, then?"
He looks at you, an unspoken hesitation. The age difference, the living in practically separate worlds, his affection for you separate from attraction.
But then he hears the old song playing on the jukebox. An old favorite.
Hesitation gone, he holds out a hand.
"How about a dance?" he winks. "I'd hate for you to think I didn't have any romance in me."
"I know you do. At least... I'd like to."
And as you lean your head against his chest as you two slow dance together in the Last Drop, you hear his words, soft and hopeful.
"I'd like that too."
#vander x male reader#vander x reader#arcane x male reader#arcane x reader#arcane headcanons#headcanons
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❤️🩹Tough Love (Adult!SatoSugu x Adult!Fem!Reader)❤️🩹
A/N: This is a paid commission I wrote, requested by @anime-lover1234
Content warning: JJK AU with lots of angst, hurt/comfort, short injured teacher/sorcerer reader with lots of boo boos, overprotective!upset!SatoSugu hubbies yall.
Haibara alive in this AU, Nanako and Mimiko are first years here with Yuji Megumi and Nobara and they're your students too. Plus Gojo can heal others in this AU.
AND NEARLY 7K LONG SO THERE!
*Please DON'T plagarize, translate, or repost my FANFIC content. Reblog, like and follow instead.
You wanted to impress them.
You wanted to prove your worth in battle.
But things went far off the deep end.
It all began that one sunset evening.
As a Grade 1 Jujutsu Sorcerer, you were a perfect match for the Grade 1 curse spirit lurking in the forest near an abandoned school rumored to be haunted after closing down due to allegations of murderous cover ups.
As you pulled down the Curtain, the cool winds blew at your hair, swaying along with your black attire, as the sun was setting for you exorcized the curse at last.
You were turning, ready to return to Haibara-kun who was waiting by the car parked out front, when you felt a stir in the air.
You sensed it further deep in the thicket.
Another cursed spirit.
Small … but on the highest level.
Curiosity and cockiness came in, seeping into your being, compulsively drawn towards your next – spontaneous – assignment.
It was a tall skinny humanoid one, blood painting its skin, eating one of the few mangled teen corpses strewn about the splattered wrecked tents of the makeshift campsite.
"Forgive me. I couldn't save you all." You muttered, cursed energy pulsing through your legs. “I'll avenge you by exorcizing that curse.”
Then you chanted quietly.
“Emerge from the darkness, blacker than darkness. Purify that which is impure."
With the barrier now placed; this one designed to keep curses in, you moved in.
With its eyes slowly turning to spot you bouncing off the branches, a swift blur dashing through the air, you warped right behind it, readying a blow right to its head.
But going toe to toe with a special grade cursed spirit on your own … you know it's not the same as it was before. But you were willing to take this golden opportunity.
Your fist blazing with cursed energy, ready to strike, even as —
The spike in its cursed energy went through the roof in that split second.
The atmosphere now pricked with that rotten flesh smog coming off its figure.
One that sprouted up to 10 ft tall.
Your cursed punch missed its mark.
Its sharpened hand going right into your side.
It was all a trap.
And you fell for it.
Hook line and sinker.
Your banshee cry startled the birds as you warped out of its grip, blood spraying out from the forced movement, skidding back on shaky limbs, its toxic touch seeping into your gash wound.
Flashes of white exploded in your mind.
The screams of your two mighty husband sorcerers were blowing out your eardrums.
Your vision was spotty but you felt the shift in its cursed presence spring forward through the air, barely dodging its swipe but feeling the tips of its claws scrape your stomach.
Deciding to draw it away, you became the injured bait, running for your life, warping out of its grab, ready to slam a kick down from above —
The sight of Satoru and Suguru bleeding and crumpled before you took its place. A twinge of fear stabbed your nerves — you were socked hard from the side, paralyzing your cranium, warping in your dazed state right before slamming into a tree.
Covering your ears in futility at the intrusive fake voices invading your eardrums, you squeezed your eyes over your unwillingness to see their gutted crimson painted selves.
"Don't leave us here!"
Toru.
"How could you leave us behind!?"
Sugu.
"It's not real. They're not here. They can hold their own. Even against bastards like you." You growled under your breath, keeping your eyes shut. "Don't see. Don't hear. Just feel."
Sniffing the air as cursed energy heightened your nostrils, you followed its putrid stench and nothing else. Trusting your sense of smell by amplifying it to near max — your limit.
Yet the debilitating toxins were slowing you down. You were getting lightheaded as blood trailed down your side and leg from that open wound. The punches and kicks you managed to land on it were barely making a dent on this creep.
This curse was sapping you of your strength, your swiftness, and your stability at an alarming rate. All you could do was dodge and weave. But didn't stop the onslaught of punches, kicks and slashes littering your body.
Those normal – now dead – teens were just fodder to it.
Now that you; a sorcerer, was in its domain, you became its toy. It would kill you. But first, it would take its time and play with you, prolonging its enjoyment as long as possible, wearing you down until you broke …
Down at the nearby rural town, outside a combini, a bespectacled man just stepped out, throwing away the wrappings of his just finished sandwich, turning to where the foul energies were resonating, seeing the barrier among the thicket of trees …
Curled into the ground, gashes, bruises and blood painted your now immobile body, keeping your head to the ground when you suddenly sensed a trusting presence slipping inside the veil, looming above you, followed by the anguished roars of the special grade collapsing.
"Don't let it hit you … its toxins can make you hallucinate … and can mimic voices." You rasped out the warnings, coughing out blood in the process, when his folded work jacket was pressed into your hands then against your crimson dripping side.
"Understood. Keep pressure on that wound. You've lost enough blood already." You choked out a sob of relief at that low rumbling voice.
Kento Nanami.
A fellow Grade 1 sorcerer. A dependable comrade and a close friend. One of incredible proficiency. Extremely precise aim. Evades with clever maneuvers. Reinforced body with cursed energy.
Tying his spotted tie around his fist, he went into Overtime. With his now stained clothed blunted sword in hand, Nanami struck in as many weak spots as he could create on that titan.
The red and black sparks of Black Flash streaking right off him to chop off its enormous arm.
His words were ringing in your ears as he revealed his hand intentionally to raise his power levels.
Slashing weak points in the surrounding pine trees, he follows it off with diving in to cleave off its legs by the knee.
Bringing it face down to ground level just to cleave its head in two horizontally.
Releasing both his binding vows to enact that single blow, Nanami's extension technique Collapse activated, causing those pine trees to come tumbling down to bury it for good measure.
Scooping you up at breakneck speed, you two got clear of the fallen debris, slipped through the decaying barrier.
Neither of you sensed it any more.
Nanami's eyes bore great disappointment down upon you from on high. "And here I thought you were better than to emulate those two's recklessness."
You felt your pride crack, your ego bruise, and your shame boosted over Nanami-san's disapproval when you felt yourself blacking out and your form became limp too quick for his liking.
Nanami's exasperated, panicking face getting all up in yours, his shouting going mute in your ringing ears, occurred before it all went dark.
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Hastily calling Nitta-san to send the proper authorities to handle post cleanup in those woods, Nanami kept pressure on your wound in your stead as he situated you two carefully in the backseat as Haibara stepped on it; his wary eyes peeking in the rearview mirror now and then just so he wouldn't crash the car.
Watching in dismay as the only signs of you still alive was your little shifts of discomfort paired with frail mumbling, calling out for your loves, as fear worked its way to the front of your mind.
Hurriedly calling Shoko immediately after to meet them at the foothills of Mount Mushiro where the screeching halts of the car's tires skidded to an almost collision at the first torii gate.
The backseat was tainted red as Nanami tossed his stained business jacket aside then undid the buttons of your uniform jacket then tugged up your undershirt enough to show your biggest wound, allowing Shoko to lean over and work.
“What a way to spend my night." She huffed, concentrating as pure white light emanated off her hands and over your wound.
"She's lost a lot of blood already on top of fractured broken bones. And hallucinogenic, auditory ailments are still in effect even when curse has been exorcized." Nanami added, brooding from the added severity of the situation.
"What the hell, L/n?” Shoko heaved heavily, shedding sweat. "That curse's toxins are still in her system. It's making it difficult to fully heal her.” She was able to seal up your side wound though. “That will have to do for now. We need to move her."
"I'll join you all once I park the car." Haibara informed them, quickly leaning over from the driver's seat to kiss Nanami.
Nanami's tender gaze came Haibara's way before he got out of the car, carrying you, carefully treading up the steps, Shoko shutting the car door and hurrying behind him, with Haibara driving off and Nanami's bloody business jacket left discarded on the back seat.
Shoko spent the late night hours repairing your damaged self, collapsing over the metal surgical table from the overtime stress, panting from her energy spent. Blood pumped into a vein on your arm via the cannula connected to the drip. And your shallow breathing toppled with a cold sweat only made her push herself further as she squeezed your hand to keep you as grounded as possible and you continued murmuring the guys names in raspy, pleading whispers.
A harried Nanami patted Shoko's forehead with a clean spare rag lying on a counter while Haibara gave her a water bottle to hydrate.
Coming in and out of consciousness, tugged between horrish illusions and bleak reality, your once weakened pulse grew stronger as Shoko's RCT filled you, pushing the toxins out of your system.
So when you finally awoke, faded scars and bruises dotted your skin, front and back, leaving you groaning weakly as you clutched your pounding head. You felt like a truck had run you over.
"About time you woke up. Those fear toxins should be leaving your system now. But it did make healing you quite taxing for me. We can continue your checkup in the afternoon when we've both rested. But I could really use a drink right now.” Shoko apathetically griped as she carefully pulled the IV out of your arm just to place a cotton ball sticking to a bandage over the small leaking prick.
“Sorry about that, Shoko.” Feeling her gloved hand holding your still sore one, you barely squeezed back. "I failed to exorcize that special grade … I'm sorry I made you all overwork because of my screw-up." Your guilt stricken face struck their hearts.
"Nitta-san made sure the bodies were collected … what was left of them. Just count yourself fortunate that the curse was just dragging it out when I arrived. Never underestimate them." Nanami chastised you at the end, his goggles currently off, sternness laced in his eyes.
"Please … don't tell the guys. It's bad enough I couldn't exorcize it by myself. If they find out, they'll never let me live this down. Satoru especially." You weakly pleaded, struggling to sit up but able to get up on your bum as Haibara pulled you up.
"They'll find out sooner or later. And there'll be hell to pay if you choose to omit it from them. I will not partake in that sort of nonsense." Nanami griped, dreading the world flipped on its axis once your husbands found out.
"They'll never want to leave my side after this! They're already dealing with workloads of missions as is! Adding this to their pillars of stressful shit … I just need to be right as rain ASAP."
"No such thing as stress free in our line of work." Shoko bluntly stated.
"Gojo-san and Geto-san would be heartbroken if you kept this from them." Haibara frowned, personally wounded.
"They'd be even more wrecked that this happened and they weren't there to stop it …" Anxious guilt raked your bones.
A hand plopped into your hair, brushing it gingerly. “Your foolish pride as a sorcerer better be worth it if you're prepared for what will come of this endeavor." Nanami's foreboding didn't stop you from embracing him around his waist, pressing your face in his stomach, humming as Haibara gently hugged you from behind, and Shoko smiled nonetheless at the cute scene, especially at Nanami's sternness lessening and patting your head some more.
Still too out of it to walk on your own, you were pushed out in a wheelchair by Haibara, straight back to the dorms, stating he would stay in the room beside yours in case you needed any aid for the night, needing to head out in the morning alongside Nanami.
Carrying your ruined uniform clothes in the recyclable bag Shoko kept them in, you set them aside as you limped about to change into familiar comfier PJs you kept on hand in your old dorm room closet whenever you had to crash at the school grounds.
Pulling your phone out of the zip lock bag it was kept in thanks to Shoko too, you had seen it was still on.
They had been messaging you all night. Notifications of your group chat popping up on your lock screen.
But you just … felt too ashamed and embarrassed to reply back.
So you turned it off.
Without them smushing you between them tonight, there was no comforting warmth keeping you safe and sound.
And the aftermath of those horrific illusions and their copycats speaking during and post battle still lingered in your memory. Tittering between life and death, you were trapped within your worst nightmare yet.
Their disapproving glares.
Their cold voices.
Turning their backs on you as they walked into the foggy embrace of bloodshed against your voiceless cries and your wavering hand fruitlessly reached out into nothingness.
So going back to sleep was the last thing you wanted.
But even so, being in your old single dorm bed, your quiet sobs swarmed the room, your pent up agony painting your pillow in tears, stewing internally over wanting to suffer your follies alone versus wishing more than anything to have Toru and Sugu embracing you to chase all those bad dreams and fears away like they have always done.
Your phone stayed isolated on the small wooden bedside table, plugged in and charging. In silence.
Meanwhile, in a hotel, nestled in the Saitama prefecture that lies above Tokyo…
"Well, the twins are sleeping. Their mission definitely exhausted them both." Suguru softly informed, returning to his partner's side after checking on the girls in the room across from theirs.
A pouty Satoru groaned miserably, splayed out like a moody pancake across the bed, puppy eyes trained on his phone. "Suguru~! She's not answering me~!”
Now splayed out beside him on their shared hotel bed, Suguru ruffled Satoru's poofy hair. "Perhaps she's sleeping."
"She always answers me though! She didn't even send me a cute kitty gif~! The injustice!" Satoru cried, shoving his phone screen right in his best friend's face.
Suguru pushed Satoru's phone aside, pulled out his own from his sweatpants and sent a heart your way. And yet, it was not even read on your end. His forehead creased with worry. "No response for me either … I do hope nothing bad has happened.”
Satoru slung an arm around Suguru's neck, pulling himself snug against him, frowning vividly. "I miss her."
Suguru plopped his cheek atop Satoru's noggin. "So do I. The sooner we finish here with our own cases, the sooner we can have her in our arms again. Until then," Suguru brushed aside Satoru's snowy bangs to smooch his velvety forehead, tenderly grinning. "We'll just have to keep each other company~"
Now that piqued Satoru's intrigue, cheekily giggling as he rolled them over so the raven head could straddle him. “Nothing wrong with that~”
Suguru quickly turned the side table lamp off before engaging in a long, sensual make out with his smirking mate, whisking the night away.
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
Your new strategy going forward?
Keep your phone off.
Give off the illusion of still being out in the field, doing assignments far off in the distance.
Stay locked up in your old room except for Shoko's treatments and bathroom breaks.
Until you were all patched up; no visually alarming marks blemishing your skin, you wouldn't let any aside from those that already knew find out.
Not your students.
NOT your men.
By the time you had awoken, Haibara had already left as informed. His sticky note he left on your bedside table with morning greetings and hopes to see you soon followed by a scribbled smiley face did turn your frown upside down.
But it meant you were the only one left in the dorm as your throbbing self painstakingly grabbed some long sleeved apparel outta the closet and changed before putting on some slippers. It was fall now, slowly transitioning to winter, so it was the perfect cover up to be snugly dressed.
You had just gotten outside when you noticed the trio heading to the torii gate exit.
Yuji sniffing the air was what alerted you; skidding to a halt as he was literally across from you on the other side of the long stone pathway, turning to eye you with an unpleasant awkwardness. Running over, his nose dove in closer to get a deep long whiff of you to your jitteriness.
He was your best student in terms of enhancing his senses to their peak with cursed energy. And one you cherished like your own pride and joy. Your pure son.
“L/n-sensei … you're injured. And you look restless. Did something happen?” His eyes became glassy saucers.
Your game plan was on the rocks now. Super human senses at work!
“Hey! The sooner we finish our mission from that blindfolded madman, the sooner I can get to shopping! So move it! No offense, sensei!” Nobara snapped out loud, waiting by the gate, curious what was occurring but impatient to wrap things up for her own reasons.
“Cone on Itadori! We're burning daylight!” Megumi coaxed.
“Alright alright, I'm coming!” Yuji's voice then softened for just you two to hear. “Sensei, whatever’s going on, just … take it easy, okay?”
Your heart swelled at his considerate caring nature like the precious boy he is, smiling thankfully. “I will. Thanks.”
“Welcome back.” That genuine smile of relief and joy of Yuji's almost made you tear up; your swelling up heart touched by his words, doing your best to smile through the soreness as you waved at the boy, saluting back to you, joining his friends, and heading off.
You started uncomfortably limping on your way the moment you students were out of eyesight. Shoko met you halfway, presenting a new wheelchair for you to make traversing more easier. “Sorry but Nanami-kun wanted me to remind you to work on your report about last night. We can head to the faculty office first. Besides, you look ready to topple over.”
You internally groaned at the stingy procedures, expected to recount your near death experience down to the last detail; literally occurring just last night, sending a grateful look her way. “What would I do without you, Shoko?”
“Let's just say I'm better off with you in my life … and I know I'm not the only one.” Apathy gave way to relieving passion in her gaze that you looked away to brush your wet eyes. And you both left it at that as she wheeled you the rest of the way.
Flash forward to some time later …
“I can't believe you going gung ho back there cost me my chance to hit up that sale at my new favorite boutique, you boneheaded idiot!” Nobara bit out.
“Okay okay, I get it! Go easy on my shoulder, Kugisaki!” Yuji yelped in pain at how much she was fussing as she and Megumi helped him walk since he took the brunt of the hits in their latest mission.
“Always ready to put yourself on the line for us … we can handle ourselves, you know, doofus.” Megumi was less harsh, making sure not to hit his shin against Yuji's stabbed one; wrapped in the torn sleeve of Yuji's uniform to stop the bleeding.
Yuji noticed the tender gaze his spiky haired friend gave him, smiling in recognition, chuckling sheepishly. “Protective instincts, I guess.”
“Serves you right, idiot.” Though Nobara and Megumi spoke such mocking words, they were softly spoken, still irked but also grateful they're all still standing.
The moment the trio splurged through the morgue door, spotting your bare back littered with bumps and wide slash marks had them faltering as their short beloved teacher and practically mother figure was in this state.
“WHAT THE HELL?!”
Their unified exclaims startled Shoko enough to press too hard on a red welt on your forearm, causing your excruciating shout.
You slapped your palms over your mouth, mortified at legit blowing your cover out loud.
Due to the fact that Shoko at the moment got a sudden phone call while examining you.
From THEM.
“Shoko, what was that?” Suguru demanded.
“Sounds like a wounded animal!” Satoru exclaimed.
“Takes one to know one. I have work to get back to. Bye bye~” Shoko's false perky jab reverts back to her usual demeanor after hanging up on them. “I would say stay hidden until everything settles down but I'd be lying. I know 25 mins away means those two lunatics will floor it by the end of the day. I wish you the best of luck, my dear.” Her sympathetic pat on your shoulder did not calm down those anxious belly butterflies.
“I knew you were hurt but … OKASAN WHO DID THIS TO YOU!?” Yuji's own wounds were forgotten as he scrambled over to you, blubbering out waterfalls, throwing off everyone by legit calling you mom out loud but too overwhelmed to notice right away.
You pulled your shirt back down, flushed in shame. “Special grade got the upper hand on me. Nanami-san saved me. Sorry to have you three see me like this. So please … keep this between us? Please?” You literally prayed for it.
“For my favorite sensei, my lips are sealed.” Nobara assured.
“Geto-sensei may be less hysterical … Gojo-sensei not so much … but those two together … oh God.” Megumi paled up at the reality.
“The calm …” Nobara ominously started.
“Before the shit storm.” Megumi drearily ended.
“Uh, while I'm not a big fan of keeping things from Gojo-sensei, if it's what you want, then I'll do it.” Yuji, skeptical but willing to make you happy, blushed pink as you embraced him loosely due to you still not being at full strength yet.
“Thank you.” You weeped.
Megumi, Nobara and even Shoko joined in on that hug.
Meanwhile, back in Saitama, again, nestled outdoors in front of a patisserie.
“That was suss as hell.” Gojo lowly rumbled, sitting under the umbrella covered table on one end, stuffing his last – now smooshed – Maneki Usagi Manju from his hands straight to his mouth.
“We know that shout all too well …” Geto's eyes teemed with cynicism, sitting across from him, sipping Sayama tea in one hand, his phone in the other.
Their mentality synced, restlessness in their bones, their six senses flaring up with red alerts.
Something did happen to you.
Something big.
Something bad.
With their cases long since finished; not surprising, their leisure time was spent sightseeing, tasting the treats the places they visited had to offer. Meaning more sweets for Gojo to savor. However, his gut along with Geto's twisted at the thought of you in trouble.
“Girls, gather your things. We're heading back now.” Geto firmly spoke while speed dialing Ijichi-san to come pick them up.
The twins, sitting at the table beside theirs, stopped taking selfies of themselves with their cutely decorated drinks at his announcement. “Yes, Papa~!”
Throughout the ride back to the school; Ijichi-san fidgeting and sweating bullets at his seniors stewing in silence, panicked thoughts raced through the duo's minds.
The one constant that kept coming up?
Whatever was going on with you …
They were getting to the bottom of it.
❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹❤️🩹
The sky changed from blue and calm to orange and warm.
Getting healed by Shoko before being ushered out to continue healing you, the trio crashed in the common room slash longue when the sight of Nanako and Mimiko waving and smiling as they entered with bags of gifts and snacks to share and give had the trio beaming at the twins safe return.
However, the sight of their teachers coming round the corner into view, radiating such potent agitated auras, sent the trio's hearts racing in dread.
It spelled the first sign of doom.
Gojo zipped up right to them, a wide ass smile on his face, waving with bags of souvenirs on the other arm, cheerfully greeting them all.
“Oh my precious students~! Your esteemed adoring sensei has returned! And I come bearing gifts for you all! As thanks for a job well done! But on the condition that you answer me truthfully! Do you happen to know what our dear Y/n has been up to as of late~?”
“Nope.” Megumi kept a straight face.
“Nada.” Nobara is the same.
“We know nothing.” Yuji as well.
Their calm blunt responses had Geto narrow his eyes at their stoic behavior, the twins shuffling to him in nervousness at the tense situation, and Gojo's fake smile fell, becoming so straight faced. “Hmm … okay then. Hold these, please and thanks.”
Dropping their bagged gifts into their arms, Gojo warping away was the second sign.
Appearing again before them, with a squirming distressed you in his arms, was the final nail in the coffin.
Gojo hastily set you down, firmly grabbed your sweater sleeve covered hand, and tugged that sleeve up to your shoulder. Even with the blindfold on, you could picture his Six Eyes shrinking to dots at the colorful splotches and littering your once unblemished skin.
“What the hell?” Gojo's shaky raw voice had you gulping.
“How did … when did … Y/n explain yourself!” Geto's perturbed face turned to aggravation.
Keeping your head ducked, you could picture their eyes bearing those same cold, disappointing glazes those curse's nightmares forced you to bear. Your state of panic got triggered!
You wince in pain, trying in vain to tug your hand free of Gojo's iron hold. Warping into the morgue, literally sweeping you off your feet, greeting Shoko, then warping out of the morgue all meant your recovery got cut short.
"Hey! Where do you think you're going!?" Gojo jested, pulling your back against his front, caging you in his hold, knowing to restrain himself on the pressure, gritting his canines at seeing those same colorful marks on the back of your neck. “You better start talking.”
"You mustn't strain yourself any more, either! You can barely walk as is!" Geto irritatedly griped, wrapping his arms around your other one, leaving you wobbling, therefore needing either of them as counterbalance.
"I'll be fine! I'll get better! I'm innocent!" You babbled desperately, wiggling like a worm, to your utter dismay and their annoyance.
Geto narrowed his eyes, downtrodden. "Have you no shame, Y/n? And you three knew about this, didn't you?!” His eyes flared up with scorn as his face whipped to the trio, having all three flinch back at the irritated sight.
“And after all the trouble I went through to get you all gifts!” Gojo dramatically complained.
“Unnecessary to be honest.” Megumi dryly rebuttal.
“My tastes far exceed yours, anyway.” Nobara throwing shade.
“I'll take them all, thank you very much! I felt like telling you Gojo-sensei, I swear! But L/n-sensei was in pain and I just wanted to help her!” Yuji blabbed.
“Softie.” Mimiko and Nanako teased smugly.
“Yuji~!” Gojo weeped.
“I told them to keep quiet. Shoko and Haibara too. Nanami wanted no part in it. It was all my fault!”
Your pleas only riled them up more. Their eyes returned to you, burning intensely, straight into your soul as they cushioned you between their built bodies just like a mating press.
You gasped as Geto's hand slid under your top, his calloused touch sending anxious tingles through you, feeling that tender scar left on your side, lips trembling and eyes wavering. “Honestly believing you could pull the wool over our eyes, dearest? Ridiculous.” Geto belittled.
Gojo scoffed, suddenly frightening as he towered behind you, alarming everyone besides Geto as he pulled down his blindfold to stare down at you now with those glaring Six Eyes. "Screw that. This isn't panning out well for you, darling. Not at all.”
Your weak whines of protest made the teens cringe with pity. Your short self was literally trapped between giants. The atmosphere was so thick with tension that trying to cut it with a knife would mean getting obliterated. GoGe might as well be a bomb.
But to see tears swell up in your e/c eyes and trail down your cheeks, glistening from the guilt, embarrassment and pain, everyone in that room froze in paling realization.
You were the actual bomb.
And you just got set off.
"DON'T HATE ME!"
Your heartbroken scream had the strongest duo become the weakest. Their grips laxing, their tunnel vision eroding, their resolve dusting, as you pulled away freely, tugging your sleeve back down to cover the damage, sat down on the couch to your buckling knees relief, and cried in your tarnished hands, becoming a mess for them all to see.
"L/n-sensei no!!! Please don't cry!!!" Yuji went into a panicked frenzy, squatting down before you, frazzled as you bowed your head against his jacketed shoulder, rubbing your shoulders in an attempt to soothe you, sweating bullets at the sight of his once mighty teachers now becoming statues at this turn of events. "None of us hate you! It's okay! Everything's gonna be okay! R–Right guys?!”
"You two are the scum of the Earth, you are! Harassing an injured emotional woman!" Nobara yelled abhorrently in their stunned paled faces, pulling out tissues from her small flowered package she kept in her belt pack along with her cursed tools to offer you. “Here sensei. Take these.”
"I won't blame her if she files for divorce." Megumi gripes under his breath, sitting down beside you, timidly rubbing your back in comforting circles. "L/n-sensei, you need to calm down and rest."
“Geto-sama, do something about this! Mama is a wreck now!” Nanako was willing to put her foot down at this insolence.
“This is depressing.” Mimiko patted your head from behind the couch.
Your desperate need to melt into a puddle and just die from utter disgrace was dashed when you felt Gojo approaching.
His serious blazing eyes spoke for themselves to let him handle you himself, but those kids hesitated letting this slide when the gentle shushing of their usually obnoxious teacher threw them for a loop. Sitting down in the free space on your other side, gently brushing your hair, he leaned in to your ear to confess —
"I'm sorry." You stiffened at his words as they rumbled against your ear. While you were partly miffed and scared due to his attitude, his gentleness returning made you drawn to him all over again, recollecting how much you did miss him — miss them both actually cause OF COURSE YOU DO!!!
Weaving his hand through your hair, he carefully pulled your head to rest against his chest instead, wrapping his arms around your shoulders, a shaky vulnerability leaking into his voice. “I'm so sorry.” You dare set down your hands to see his eyes as glittery blue glass. "I shouldn't have snapped like that. I hate seeing you cry like this.” His wandering hand had his fingertips weave through yours to squeeze your hand benignly. “Especially when you're all banged up. I just …”
“I'm deeply sorry as well.” The moment Suguru sat down in Megumi's spot, the kids had already stood back and watched with anticipation as his arms gently hugged your waist from behind, kissing your blotchy cheek, regret radiating on his face. “We both shouldn't have approached you so harshly. We were out of line. We just …”
They were both at a loss for words.
Taking a chance, a risk, a leap of faith, you decide to tell them the truth, rather preferring for them to hear it from you than read it from a document.
“The other night … a special grade curse popped up just when I finished my case … I wanted to prove myself … I thought I could take it on … but Nanami saved me in the end. I was … ashamed … anxious … afraid. It showed me … illusions … nightmares … of you both suffering and abandoning me … and I panicked when you both got upset earlier … I just – !”
“You haven't properly rested at all.” Geto delicately gripped your chin and turned your face to see the dark circles under your now red eyes. “Beloved, you of all people should know that keeping your troubles bottled up inside does no one any good! Least of all hiding your pain from us when we can help!”
“You can't always be there for me … I can't keep weighing you down … but I can't hold my own when it really counts … I'm never gonna be at your level … even as a Grade 1 … by myself … I'm not good enough.” Your eyes squeezed shut, deep seated in this emotional turmoil.
“Yes you are!” The sharp conviction Satoru had made your eyes snap back open. It got your attention attentively. “We still think of them … Kuroi … Amanai … what we could have done differently or better … had we not failed them. If anything happened to you … and if we weren't there to stop it … and it already has … then what the hell’s the point in being the strongest when we can't protect those that matter to us the most?!” You shook as his tears hit your nose, rubbing his wet nose against yours with those beautiful blue eyes now red with compassion looking into yours, for even his watery smile is breathtaking. “You've never been weak. Not to any of us. You kept us together through all the shit thrown our way since that day. I don't need Six Eyes to tell me this truth … that you are the most beautiful, genuine, strongest soul I know you are inside and out.”
“You're the very reason I gathered the courage to reach out to everyone when my resolve wavered … when I lost my way … it's difficult to wear a heartfelt smile in this world …” Sugu's voice slipped for a moment, his almond eyes twinkling as his wet cheek nuzzled yours, pressing a timid kiss to the corner of your lips, another breathtaking smile amiss the waterfalls. “But you brought back my smile. You helped me find a better way … I'm no longer alone. So you don't get to be either. Not anymore.”
Unified, their cracked voices caved.
“We can't lose you too.”
You breathed in their natural scents, submerged in their warmth, coveted in their supportive treasuring embrace, their crying faces resting against either side of your neck, just to be as close to you as possible without hurting you more so than that curse and themselves already have.
In this moment of vulnerability, the strongest duo put down their guards just to show you how immensely you've always mattered to them. Your pain, your sadness, your doubts … they're theirs too.
Your hand that was still being held by Satoru weaved down to rub against Suguru's knuckles, drawing him in to lay his hand atop both yours. “I feel the same way.”
“But damn Y/n, you scared us shitless." Gojo sighed exasperated, now chewing and suckling hungrily on your red cheek just to hear your raspy squeals for their amusement.
"Immensely." Geto hummed conspiratory like, chewing and tugging on your other cheek for good measure, your squeaking making them smirk.
“I'm sorry!” You garbled out, mewling.
Suguru popped off your cheek, pecking it several times apologetically. “We're sorry too. We're just relieved that you're alive.”
Satoru popped off your cheek as well, smooching the welt left in his wake. “Still injured though, but I'll finish healing you myself.”
Catharsis finally came as your waterworks were one of relief. “I missed you both so much~!!!”
"Yosh, yosh~” Satoru doting on you, petting your head like the cutie you will always be in their eyes. “We missed our cutie patootie too~” Now that got you to smile at last, shedding tears of joy, as your chortled laughs made them smile as well.
The kids left you three a while ago when the mushiness kicked in. The twins giggled as Megumi summoned his wolf Shinigami for them to ride on so they could stop pestering him, right before he buried his bashfully blushing face in the crook of Yuji's neck who carried him and Nobara with ease from her own pestering, heading off to do whatever.
Now drained from the mental and emotional trip you went through, all you wanted now was sleep.
And to be honest?
So did the guys.
Your old dorm bed would make do just this once. For old times sake. Warping you three there was easier on an already wiped Gojo, anyway.
Their uniforms, boots, and socks along with your slippers littered the floor.
The AC hummed in the background.
And the drawls of moonlight slipped through the curtains.
Tepid flustered gasps left your parted lips as Satoru sensually trailed his smooth sly hand across every inch of your backside under your top, healing you from that point as you relaxed.
You smothered your face in Satoru's snug black tee covered pecs as he ran his fingers through your hair, languidly brushing it to further soothe you, pecking your forehead. “It wasn't the same without you.”
Suguru carefully splayed on top of you from behind, warmth seeping through his snug white tee and into your cloth covered back, heatedly breathing down your flushed nape as his veiny giant hand caressed your bare tummy underneath your top as well as stroking your thighs with his other hand. “Having you to cuddle again, all snug in between us, truly feels like heaven.”
“No angel to sleep with … oh how did we cope without you~?" Satoru ranted quietly as he could for your sleepy sake.
Suguru gave him a sly smirk. “Satoru~”
Satoru chuckled, ruffling Suguru's loosely free hair, before resting that hand on Suguru's lower back. “Okay, it wasn't bad at all. Even so… can I please just keep us in this moment and never let each other go ever again?” Satoru gently begged.
“As long as I can get some shut eye. And new uniform garbs.” Your cheek nuzzled his chest, consenting in a yawn.
“Deal.” With Six Eyes now switched off, Satoru became heavy-eyed at the sight of his two favorite people in bed with him. Back together again.
“No more bad thoughts for us tonight.” Suguru languorously rumbled in your ear.
“Plus those nightmares will get a kick in the balls if they come back.” Satoru grumbled drowsily.
“If it's a curse, sure. Dreams, not so much.” You mumbled softly.
Satoru could feel your body start to reach the end of its recovery from his healing touch, trailing his hand from your back to cover your hand that rested on the front of his shirt where his heart lay.
Suguru's own hand traversed, resting atop Satoru's, all three splayed on his chest in the same exact spot.
You sagged as you felt the weight of all that battle damage lift right off you, for all the pain got replaced with fuzzy tingling warmth.
Shivering with delight, you felt those two curling in on you from both sides, their legs tangling with yours, as you all smushed in the middle, with Suguru's face against your shoulder and Satoru's in your hair.
“Toru … Sugu … I love you guys.”
Satoru breathed in your scent, smiling drowsily. “We love you too … so damn much.”
"Truly. We'd be lost forever if we never knew you.” Suguru mused languidly.
A tiny smile formed as you succumbed to your long awaited dreamland. “I … feel … the same.”
And the kiddies, poking their heads through the crack in the slide doorway, eyed you snug between those two in just their tees and boxers, your entangled limbed cocoon, the bed comforter halfway touching the floor, as gentle snores and breathing made up your guys personal symphony.
Taking some snapshots for potential blackmail material; basically on Nobara and Megumi's part, they left you three to rest.
Of course, knowing you three, you'll stay in bed all day tomorrow. Whether to sleep, talk, cuddle, make out, do the devil's tango — nah it's all of the above! Meaning no classes.
The weekend is free.
To unwind and reflect.
Your old room feels more homely now that they're there with you.
That night, you’re gifted with cathartic, stress relieving dreams where those two awaited you with smothering embraces and enriching laughter.
Through their tough, imposing, and fierce exteriors …
There lay the true blessings that are their empathy, passion and humanity.
Your chaotically lovestruck sorcerers.
And you, their heaven sent wife, will feel their love till the very end.
And even beyond.
For Infinity.
#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk au#jjk fanfic#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#satoru gojo x reader#suguru geto x reader#satosugu x reader#gojo x geto x reader#satoru x suguru x reader#jjk angst#jjk hurt/comfort#jujutsu kaisen angst#jujutsu kaisen comfort#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x suguru geto#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x y/n#jujutsu kaisen au#gojo x reader#geto x reader#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#geto x y/n#geto x you#gojo x geto x you#jjk trio#jujutsu kaisen fic
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An Offering [Asgard! Loki x Fem.Reader]
A link to my Masterlist is HERE Summary: Loki's lack of carnal exploits have caused chaos in Asgard- and something must be done. (w/c 2.7k) Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Loki POV. Smut. Language. Ridiculous lore.
Loki’s eyes scanned the lines on the page, uncrossing his ankles before immediately crossing them again.
He was restless. His manhood twitched as he re-read words he had missed in one endless, sprawling sentence. An annal of the wars of Muselpheim. It was the least erotic tome in his personal collection. These days, it didn’t take much.
He cast a glance out the window, wondering what carnage his unspent power was causing at the present time. Had a ghostly tidal wave risen and washed out the harbour town? A curse which made food taste like ash? An unfamiliar steed trotting through the mountain villages with an insatiable appetite for the bemused inhabitants worldly goods?
Loki didn’t know. All he knew was that he didn’t want to see anyone.
It was humiliating. His mother’s voice filled his ears against his will, the memory making his ears burn. You must copulate with someone Loki. Anyone; she had said calmly, her cheeks faintly pink. Chaos is building within you, if it is not released...naturally – then your seidr will find a way to expel itself in other ways,’
Loki shook his head, the familiar clench of embarrassment twisting in his stomach. A belch of smoke began twisting skyward in the distance from the market. It was green. He sighed, shutting the book on his lap and placing it to the side of the window-seat. If he concentrated, he could feel magic leaking from his pores like sweat. It bubbled through the air around him, the faint scent of tart spiced lemongrass following him around. Taunting him. Chaos.
And it would only get worse. “What am I to do with you?” he mumbled, staring down at his crotch. It stirred in response.
“Ah, yes, but you see, we want the same thing-” he crooned, as if to a friend. Or indeed, a foe. “The way they talk they would have me thrust you upon any diseased cretin from the alleys by the square.” He looked out the arch, the heavy emerald smog beginning to settle over half of Asgard. “But we are better than that,” he muttered.
A low chorus of coughing had begun to rise and echo around the high towers of the citadel. Loki grimaced. “I do hope it’s not poisonous,” he mumbled to himself.
There was a knock at the door. “Gods…” Loki sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall in frustration. Will they not let me alone.
It had become abundantly clear months ago that taking care of his sexual gratification by hand was not sufficient to quell the tide of magical energy coursing through his veins. Flesh, was what was required. A second heartbeat. An offering of the basest kind.
The instances of chaotic overspill had started small – batches of grain turning to sand, mirrors losing their reflection in the palace; but as the need for release grew, so did his frustration.
There was a reason that his familiar bedfellows had fallen out of favour. He caused too much angst. Too much heartbreak, that much was clear. They were satisfied for a time, but tormented in their limbo for his affection. Or his title. But they could never be her. He could see it in their eyes, the realisation when they felt him leave their cooling beds. It was not their fault.
He could not have her. She did not know or care of his existence, not really. Not outside of his garishly rouged face on a mural. Loki was not interested in breaking hearts. Not anymore. Especially his own. And as time when on, and the leakages grew in strength – people were afraid. There was that, too.
The knock came again. With an exasperated exhale, Loki rose. He crossed the room, smoothing his palms down the front of his tunic. Hooking one thumb in the low slung belt around his hips, he tried his best to look menacing as he opened the door. “What do you-”
The frown of annoyance melted to confusion as he ran his gaze over the waiting form in stunned silence. A woman, her face dipped in a light curtsey. Soft tendrils of hair fell around her collarbone like a nymph. “Your highness.” she spoke, keeping her head down. Loki tilted his head. How curious, he pondered as he reached out and gently tipped the woman’s chin up. His breath hitched at the unexpected sultry darkness of her eyes. Familiar. Impossible. “What are you doing here?” he murmured warily, casting a glance around the otherwise empty corridor. “Don’t you know it is dangerous to-” “May I come in, your highness?” she said softly. Loki frowned at the audacity of her interruption. But there was no hint of fear in her lilt, which he respected – and so the god found himself stepping aside.
The hem of her gown rustled on the stone floor, sweeping in a grand circle as she turned to face him. It was cream, the fastening at her bosom which ran down the centre of its length trimmed in the same dark green as the thick smoke currently blocking out the sun. Loki shivered.
“It has been decided that I am to be an offering,” she said haughtily. Her chin was held high, a beacon of poise and cold elegance. Norns, how Loki wanted to ruin her.
But he wouldn't. He shouldn't. Not her.
He stared back in slack-jawed disbelief, before bursting into laughter. He could feel his stomach clench, the peals of mirth taking a greater hold than the situation deserved. But it had been a while since Loki had laughed, among other things.
“My a-a-apologies,” he gasped, extending a hand to pat down her tangible offence. The lady’s arms had folded, a waft of malice washing over the god like a current. He collected himself, smoothing his hair as she looked on. “It’s not you, you are…” he looked the woman up and down, “lovely. Truly. I just...did not expect my family to stoop so low as to enact a farce such as this.”
The woman began to pace in a wide circle, her finger inspecting the wide wooden curve of his bed-frame. She paused, her chin tilting towards him with a wicked glint in her eye.
“It was my idea, actually” she said, beginning to smile as Loki shuffled where he stood. “Your brother took some convincing, but I think that is only since he had eyes for me himself.”
Loki could not find the words. “The armoury cache has turned to salt, you know” she chirped, smiling while she continued an achingly slow tour of his chambers. Loki groaned inwardly as she peered at the books on the nearest shelf, ghosting a fingertip over the spines.
“You have no idea how difficult it is to get a Prince’s attention,” she hummed. “Especially when he locks himself away and denies the ladies of the court an opportunity to flaunt themselves. Desperate action must be taken,” she purred playfully, the fragrant twinge of stinging sarcasm inflaming Loki’s arousal. Was she jesting? A cruel, elaborate trick? Loki decided he must be dreaming.
He cleared his throat, painfully aware of his cock hardening beneath his trousers. Of all days, why had he chosen the satin?
“You are here of your own free will, then?” he managed to say. She nodded, a closed lipped smile pressing against her cheeks. His eyes were drawn to the heave of her cleavage, rising and falling in anticipation before they rose back to her face. Her lips.
"It is a grave offence to lie to a god of Asgard, my lady" he warned, painfully aware of the slowing breaths making his voice thick. He could feel his tongue move, yet the words seemed to belong to another.
“They say it could be dangerous,” she said matter-of-factly, ignoring his ominous overtones. “-Fucking you, I mean.” Loki stared. He was fully hard now, the urge to free himself and have the woman against the nearest bookcase almost overwhelming. She raised her eyebrows, a mischievous smirk curling at the edge of her mouth. “Personally, I think it’s all rather exciting. Don’t you?” “You’re mad,” Loki mumbled, realising with surprise that he was already halfway across the floor. The woman let out a low tinkling laugh, resting an elbow on the shelf. “You’re one to-” Loki’s lips collided with the siren, crashing against her mouth like a tempest. She parted for him, wild hands twisting in his hair as he pressed her against the wood. Her moans of excitement, her breathy pants into his mouth as he caged her. Loki was undone.
His tongue wrestled hers, hands exploring the curves of her body that bucked against his touch. Meaningless words gasped from his lips as her palm slid harshly against his cock, mastering the slide and squeeze along its length.
“Bold, my Prince-” she teased, as his throat worked in grunts and swallows beneath her touch.
“I take nothing which was not already offered, my lady” he keened, thrusting against her hand. Their lips met again, deep curls of muscle enveloping the other in wet need. “And not all which is offered, either” he groaned against her ear. “Not yet.” The woman chuckled, sliding her hands up the velvet of his tunic. She pushed him lightly, making him stumble back like a feather. The backs of his knees hit the bed, falling and landing on the pristine sheets with a bounce.
“Take it then,” she uttered, laden with ceremony. Her eyes smouldered, wild waves falling around her face. Fingertips worked invisible buttons at the bodice of her dress, the middle section of green parting before she shrugged it from her body. Loki gripped the sheets, thighs trembling. “It is here, for you...my Prince.” Loki wet his lips, hungry eyes staggering up every perfect inch of her naked body. Mapping the trail his fingers would take as he sank into each delicious curve. The god felt his thighs widen, the tight trousers he wore an unbearable constraint. With a flex of his fingers, he was as naked as she. “Norns,” she whispered, her eyes wide. She began to pace towards him, a sudden goddess of love and peace and salvation. “You’re even more beautiful than they say.”
Loki barely heard her, transfixed by the supple legs which now straddled him on the edge of his bed. With a sharp intake of breath he let his hands run over the curve of her ass, squeezing gently. In turn, her fingers wrapped around the root of his cock, tugging as she breathed against his cheek.
“How long I have waited for this,” she murmured softly. Loki groaned. He fell back, bringing her with him in an animalistic kiss. He was being rough, he knew that. But he could barely control the deafening roar of unnatural lust. It flowed from him in waves, a roar of static crisping in the air.
“If you feel you are in danger, leave – immediately,” Loki gasped, throwing his head back with a moan while she ground against him. His mussed hair fanned against the sheets. He could feel the well of magic pulsing inside him with the beat of his cock. Like a drum, louder and louder in his ears. “You need this,” she panted, “we all do.”
Loki was tortuously aware of his manhood dancing at the tight slit of her entrance. He felt as a hound did, told to stay itself before a feast table. She moved it in circles, lapping up her wetness. The god groaned again, lips parted to the ceiling. “For Asgard,” she murmured coyly, before sinking fearlessly onto his cock. The cry which strangled itself from Loki’s throat shook books from the shelves. A ripple reverberated from the bed, making stone from the high arches crumble in dusty clouds.
His eyes flew open, and he knew from the reflection in her own that they were dark as a lemurs. The pupils drowning out any colour in his irises; wide. Wild.
Hands flew to her hips and pushed her down as he thrust up, bottoming out. A ringing cry sounded around his chambers. “Good...girl,” he smouldered darkly, an empty echo of past affairs. “Uhhh...y-yes- good girl.” Loki heard his own voice in singular clarity. As rich and foreboding and potent as a tangled forest by moonlight. There was a squelch as he withdrew, before flipping her over. She lay below him now, her features alight with desire and self-satisfaction. Her pretty moans tickled the air as he filled her sweet little cunt to the hilt. Each slap of his hips scraped the bed further across the floor. Ancient mahogany screeching on rough stone. Had sex always felt this good? Loki couldn’t recall.
All he knew was he needed to fuck to the edge of oblivion. Her fingertips dug into the taut flesh of his ass, pulling him deeper. Loki hissed, curls swinging wild over his brow. Flames nested in the torches hung on the walls snuffed out, plunging the room into inky blackness. All that remained, while the cloud of his unspent lust blocked out the sun, was her body. This temple that would restore him. Loki sucked down, teeth grazing a bruising kiss into her shoulder. “Loki,” she whined, moaning like a whore. “More-” And Loki complied. He hoisted her legs over his shoulders. “My benevolent offering,” he muttered in barbed desire, sliding his wet cock inside her inch by tantalising inch. Loki’s eyes rolled back as he hit bottom. Consecration, surely. The torch flames came roaring back to life, licking the very ceiling above them in a tidal wave of primordial heat. The woman gasped, her pussy tightening. More dust fell from the archways, specks swimming in the air as the god punctuated every thrust with a filthy curse known only to he.
She exploded upwards, hooking her arms around his neck and pulling his mouth to hers. Their bodies writhed with devilish rhythm, each fluid buck of Loki’s hips making emerald stars explode in a dreamy haze above their heads before melting to nothing. “I’m close,” she panted, tightening her thighs around his hips. Loki growled, his breathing heavy. He could feel the animal inside him rear. The bull. The wolf. The serpent. Ready to feast upon her pleasure like a wasted demon. He pressed down, tugging her clit with slow, wicked waves of his hips.
With a howl of his name, the woman came undone beneath him; her hair sprawled and spilling over the bed’s edge like a sacrifice. The room began to shake. Or was it the palace? Loki didn’t know. Trinkets fell to the floor, smashing. Crashing sounded from the next room, plates, jars of ink splattered like dried blood on the stone. Ancient tomes thudded with morose cracks, a sound which at any other moment would fill the god with despair. But not at this moment.
Every muscle in his body was tensed, primed to detonate. His balls tightened as they slapped her skin, the thundering surge of magic in his body threatening to burst in uncontrollable chaos.
He couldn’t. It was too much, too dangerous. Suddenly her fingers clasped around his jaw, drawing his gaze to hers. It was dreamy. Happy. It was trusting. And brave. That too.
“My Prince,” she whispered softly; a calm in the storm. “Cum for me.” He pressed his forehead to hers, his breathing becoming steadier. The fingernails of her free hand scratched gently between his shoulder-blades, down the curve of his spine.
Loki savoured the heat of her body beneath his, the unrelenting grip of her channel around the root of the realms woes. She worked him fearlessly, lilting her hips up to meet the base of his cock with rhythmic grace. “For me,” she repeated, before placing a gentle kiss over his parted lips. She sucked the bottom one as it released. Loki’s mind was blinded by light. Shuddering, incapacitating pleasure searing through his body as his world went dark.
Orgasm ripped through him like torn leather; fierce and merciless and raw. It rose in an eruption, consuming and obliterating and remaking him as he spent himself inside her.
A shimmering pulse of power emanated from the bed, spreading and rippling through walls as the whole of Asgard felt the release cascading from his veins. From his cock. An aftershock that would be felt through the realm. The god's face was contorted with pleasure. A thick, shaking gasp of exhausted relief was all he could muster as he collapsed in a heap beside his saviour. Moments passed. But truly, it could have been an age.
“Did I say anything?” he panted, utterly spent. “I just felt...-” “-my name,” you finished, running a hand up his chest.
You dragged your fingernails gently down his stomach, sighing happily as the first licks of sunlight appeared through the clearing smog. “I didn’t know you knew it.” “Of course I do,” he murmured. A veil of sleep began to descend while he inhaled the scent of your sex damp hair. Was this a dream?
If it was, Loki hoped he would never dream another.
He turned to you with a lazy smile, eyelashes heavy with the bliss of it all. He was free. And she was here. Her. You. “I did not think you knew mine," he said quietly, before sleep took him.
Tags
@meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @lokischambermaid @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @sidepartskinnyjeans @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @liminalpebble @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @mochie85 @mischief2sarawr @multifandom-worlds @morgan-wolf @thenotoriouserg @november-rayne
#loki x reader#loki smut#loki laufeyson#loki fanfiction#loki x reader smut#loki x female reader#loki laufeyson smut#loki odinson#loki odinson x reader#loki laufeyson x reader#loki fanfic#loki marvel#loki gif#loki imagine#loki of asgard#loki x yn#loki x you#loki x yn smut#loki x you smut
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RIN ITOSHI AND DOWN BAD!!!
𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐃 [*ੈ✩‧₊˚ dawn.🕹️ ttpd]
⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ one breakdown. a sudden realization.
I’m staying at my parents’ tonight. Don’t call me.
9 hours ago. That was Rin’s last message to you.
The sky above was turning, grey clouds lingering on the horizon like the thickening of a warning smog. Growing up on this side of town, the smell of asphalt assaulting your nose was a constant, and it mingles with the carnage of your writhing emotions.
Picking up your pace, you try to leave the thought of Rin behind in the dust.
Taking the stairs two at a time, you reach the double glass doors, pushing it aside to be surrounded by the smell of iron, sweat and bleach.
A run would be the best thing for your mind.
Booting up the treadmill, you stretch across the bars, unloosening the knots in your back; giving your glutes a tight squeeze with alternative leg lift ups.
The pounding of your running shoe-clad feet on the belt filled your mind with white noise—the music blaring from your earphones helping to drown out the pain clawing its way through your chest.
But, no matter how much you tried to move forward, you could never forget.
The greasy sensation lingering heavily in your bones heaves and twists, a child in the corner begging for mom to turn and acknowledge it. Throwing plates shattering to the floor; fingerprints drenched in blood red of neglect streaking across pristine white walls.
You lean forward, slamming the pause button. Almost flying off the treadmill, grab the handles and double down, clutching your torso, sweat and tears stinging down your cheeks.
There was no one to watch your breakdown, the clock showing 2 in the morning; flashing 24-hour neon sign at the doorway blinking apathetically in your teary vision.
For a long moment, you stayed down on the ground, sniffling quietly.
Once the tears dried up, you picked up your phone, checking your messages.
Predictably (even if it made your stomach fall to your feet), Rin hadn’t texted you. You stared at his name, at his photo—his pretty teal eyes half-closed, disgruntled shade of amusement at your surprise kiss on his cheek as you ambushed him with this photo.
Never would you have anticipated he would make it his main contact picture.
Loving Rin existed in shades of grey and fractions of light which you tend to miss if you didn’t look fast enough. A fond look, a secret smile.
You missed his every fleeting show of affection.
But, how long could something so perfect be kept behind the scenes without deteriorating from a lack of light and affection?
I can’t believe you would think I was cheating on you because of some rumour, he seethes from the couch. I come back home to you, don’t I? You’re being too fucking sensitive and unreasonable. If you hate me, you can say it right to my face rather than making this more difficult for me. You’re such a hassle. I’m leaving.
Barely giving you time to take back your words or give your pain more breathing ground for understanding.
Rin took his keys, wallet and half of your heart out of your shared apartment’s door; unwittingly breaking your entire trust in him in a fell swoop.
You blinked the moisture from your eyes, staring at the carpeted floor.
Your phone vibrated, and you rubbed your eyes, reading his message over and over again.
I’m sorry. I hate fighting with you. I’m on my way back home. Can we talk?
You stare at your phone; outside at the inky sky unleashing a deluge of rain which splatters across the high windows. Rin was never this persistent unless he knew he had fucked up big time.
Baby? Are you there? Can we talk?
The vibration of an incoming call. Without thinking it through, you declined the call.
If he wanted to tell you what's on his mind, he could do it face-to-face.
(Did you even want to see him again?)
Hey, I know you’re angry at me, but at least let’s talk this out. I know the season’s been hard on both of us. I don’t want us to end like this.
You read his texts silently, not responding.
Another call. Another tap of the red button.
Baby, stop ignoring me. I was stupid with my words. I said some really stupid stuff. Don’t be angry anymore and let’s talk this out.
The pitter pattering of rain fills your mind with static, keeping you on a loop of his last words and the ones you can’t seem to focus on the smeared screen.
Mechanically, you read through his text, seeing the chat bubble disappear and reappear—never did three dots make you feel close enough to have a stroke.
Your baited breath follows on the tail of his next message:
I still love you. I love us. I’m so sorry.
A wave of loss overtakes you, the next message you type out with shaky fingers sent straight into the void—blue speech bubbles turning grey once you begin the process of removing Rin bit by bit from your life; clicking on the ‘block’ button to refuse these crumbs of affection you couldn’t starve yourself on anymore.
I’m sorry, too. Please, don’t come home. Goodbye, Rin.
©️ lalunanymph
#🦢 writes#rin itoshi#rin itoshi x reader#rin itoshi x you#rin itoshi angst#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#blue lock angst
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Our blood will drip from your hands. | Caitlyn x Fem!Reader (feat. Vi)
(Part 2)
This is my official contribution to the Arcane Fandom and also my way of asking for requests. I hope you guys enjoy this!!<33
Summary: You befriended Caitlyn shortly after being taken in by an influential family in Piltover as a young child. You always believed that she saw you for who you were and not just for what you were. However, when she dared to appear in your home as your nation's newly appointed dictator, you realised that she was never any different herself.
Content: Heavy season 2 spoilers!!!!, Zaunite Reader, conflicting emotions, undefined relationship, heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, mentions of grief on Caitlyn's side, childhood friends, racism/discrimination against Zaunites, slight Vi x Reader?, sfw
Reader is afab and uses she/her pronouns!
((Not fully proofread))
"Have you... Have you lost your mind, Caitlyn?" You never expected to end up like this with her. Conversations that were once filled with laughs, gentle words, and wide smiles now felt sinister and cold. You shivered slightly under her domineering gaze and yet stood your ground, a defiant flame from your past childhood burning in your heart. The silence that followed your question felt dangerous, that familiar fear sparking in you at the glinting of her pristine uniform under the moonlight in the garden she had trapped you in. It reminded you of the days in which you could feel only terror at the mere sight of it, rightfully so. But perhaps the years of being fed with a silver spoon had you slowly cooking like a frog in a pot, doomed to unknowingly perish from its own blissful ignorance.
And was it too late to jump out now?
When you saw the navy haired woman's jaw clench tightly in a show of brave self-restraint, you realised that, yes, it was way too late for you.
Things went downhill the moment Caitlyn introduced you to Vi, you concluded. There was an instant bond you had with the woman, a bond only two of the same kin and background could have, despite your different upbringing. You remembered the night the three of you sat in these grand gardens of yours, the privilege of the fresh air filling your lungs weighing heavy on your consciousness as she spoke of her past. You recognized the places she mentioned, felt the emotions that ran through her, and shared the silent, familiar fear of the uniformed devil's with ease. You spoke of things the Kirammann could never understand, and you believed that it was alright that she didn't.
Caitlyn didn't say a word while you two spoke, her face betraying no negative emotion as she just simply gripped onto your gloved hand tightly. Foreshadowing, you had missed perhaps in hindsight. You had foolishly hoped that she saw you both as people, regardless of where you hailed from. You realise now that your wishful thinking had made you painfully naive.
The veil had finally been lifted from your eyes now and revealed the truth you've been denying for so long. And why did it take you so much time to realise it anyway? Why did it have to be Caitlyn's disgusted look to shake you awake?
Why didn't you just listen to Vi when she appeared at your doorstep hours earlier, a shell of what she once, as she practically cried in your arms? You never thought you'd see the day in which a fellow Zaunite would willingly degrade themselves so terribly by wearing the uniform of their oppressors. But why did you always make an exception for Caitlyn then, if you hated seeing Vi as one?
She had left shortly after, leaving you crying in frustration and betrayal when she told you how they used the ventilation system against your own people. They had flooded the streets with that toxic smog, hurt people more than they already were, and potentially even killed some for what? And unfortunately... the woman before you was the mastermind of it all.
Grief was a terrible thing. It really was. And yet, there was no excuse for this.
Your mind spun, legs threatening to give out at any moment. You should have run after Vi. You shouldn't have stayed here for a moment longer. But you had deluded yourself into thinking that it was all just a misunderstanding. That you had heard it wrong. Even if you couldn't look away from the devil anymore that you once lovingly called your best friend... or perhaps even more?
Slightly stumbling backward with a faint sigh, Caitlyn was quick to grab onto your hip, yet you flinched out of her grasp quicker than you could process it. It was a relfex on both of your sides. "No, don't you dare touch me after what you've... what you will do." You couldn't stand being near her as the panic set in, and you were desperate to get away. You never thought that you'd come to this point. You never thought that you'd learn to hate her so suddenly. It made you sick.
She reluctantly let her hand fall back to her side, and it unnerved you then that she had yet to say a thing. Did she perhaps feel guilty after all? Was she perhaps reflecting? A glance into her eyes reconfirmed that you were indeed wrong about her once again. You needed to stop dreaming. Your life up here has blinded you too much.
"... You weren't there today." You knew that she meant the councilor meeting with all the other noble houses. Your adoptive parents had gone as well, albeit without you. They were in clear disagreement with the entire situation themselves, and yet social pressure was a curse. Turning away from her, you found the energy to scoff. "And what of it? Do you expect me to stand there and cheer? Support a potential mass killing of innocent people?" "I am keeping us safe. I'm keeping you safe. There is nothing innocent about them." Her voice was raised and sharp, nothing like you had ever heard before. The adrenaline was making your body shake dangerously, and you started becoming aware of how angry you were. You hadn't felt like this in years. And here you thought you were used to their hate, too.
"So you are willing to murder hundreds over Jinx? Because that's what this is all about, isn't it? Revenge?" You got it right. It was all just for that. She was willing to disgrace her own ancestors' life work to fill the void left behind by her mother’s absence. "... I am doing all of this so no one has to get hurt again. We are left with no other choice. They are too dangerous-" "-Then why am I any different? What am I, if you view us as nothing but animals?" Silence. Just as expected, she never thought that far. Or maybe she simply considered you one of the better ones. The one whose blood was saved by the kindness of your parents in Piltover. You weren't tainted anymore. You were perfect because this place allowed you to be.
"... Why can you just not see all I'm doing for us? I... don't make me turn on you, too. You are better than this." You let out a laugh, one that could've sent down a shiver down anyone's spine. Even Caitlyn's, if she wasn't so tense and rigid now. Vi was right. She truly had changed for the worse. And god did it hurt.
"I loved you, Cait. I really did. And I understand the pain you've gone through after the loss of your mother. I stood at your side on the day of the funeral. I felt your agony." What should've been a confession filled with relief and happiness, now simply left a bitter taste in your mouth. "But I refuse to keep standing at your side if it means to see your hands stain with the blood of my people. You are a puppet, Caitlyn. The warlord has taken over your mind. The strings around your neck will tighten until it snuffs out the rest of your soul. And I will not be there to help you out of it this time." You don't care to hear her next words or even look her in the face as a last goodbye. Your Caitlyn died with her mother, buried beneath endless flower petals, safe and far away from the monster that appeared in her stead.
Your calm steps suddenly picked up the pace, and you found yourself running away, your frilly dress bunched up in your arms, chest heaving with the sobs you couldn't hide anymore. You ignored her call for your name, the demanding order pushing you much farther away until all you could hear were your panicked steps over the marble floor and the faint singing of the cicadas coming to a close.
Caitlyn stood there for the longest time, her stern gaze frozen in the direction you had disappeared in before she tipped her hat over her eyes and left.
You'll understand one day, she supposed.
#arcane#arcane x reader#arcane x you#arcane x y/n#arcane x female reader#arcane vi#caitlyn kiramman#caitlyn arcane#caitlyn x reader#Caitlyn#x reader#arcane vi x reader
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She Wanted You
JJ Maybank x Routledge!Reader
Word Count:1.4k
Warnings:none
A/n: angst bc im boycotting watching season three LOL, not my gif
“What do you mean she left?” JJ questioned, dumbfounded. He didn’t realize it, but he was walking into a war zone. The Chateau no longer had the same feel. It was like someone sucked the air out, and pumped smog in.
With tears in his eyes, John B pointed towards his sister’s room. Sarah and Pope were lingering in there, but JJ had no idea why. The room was oddly neat, incredibly out of character of the girl who resided there. Her closet was emptier than usual, the three picture frames that once had pictures of her with her family and friends were empty. What caught JJ’s eyes next, made his mouth go dry. His breath was no longer there. The navy sweatshirt he had given her years ago was folded, on the bed, next to the pillow he always claimed during their relationship. Atop the sweatshirt was a ring from a gumball machine, an orange and green friendship bracelet made of paracord, and a pile of notes written on scraps of random papers. Every other personal belonging was missing from its spot.
JJ tore through the girl’s nightstand, and when he realized the box of her life savings was gone, he let out a string of colorful words and kicked the stand.
“Here, you should read this.” Sarah handed him a neatly written note. By the tear stains on Pope’s face, the somber tone from the kook, and JB’s raging anger, it was a farewell.
He took a deep breath, and swiped the letter from Sarah. The familiar handwriting was already pulling at his heart.
J,
I’ve rewritten this letter four times already, and I still don’t know how to put my thoughts into actual words. Firstly, I love you. I love you until the waves stop coming in. I love you so much that I knew I needed to leave. I’ve known since you wandered home with John B in third grade, and gave me all the answers (even though they were wrong) to my math homework that if there was going to be another boy in my life, he was going to have to fight you for that spot. From 7 years old, I only ever wanted you. But over the last two years, I can see that I’m not the one for you. And that is why I’m leaving. One of the only things that got me through my day was seeing you smile, but I understand that there is someone else who causes those crinkles by your eyes.
I have to leave because it’s too painful. I need time to have all your kisses leave my body, I need to leave because I can’t smell the ocean, listen to Akon and Konvict, or even wash my fucking clothes without thinking of you. I see you in body language, in the waves, in every damn aspect of my life. Not only are we ingrained on this island, but you are ingrained in me. If I’m ever going to come home I need to remove every trace.
I told you last week, I’d always be on your team, even from a distance. I need you to pursue Kiara because there is nothing more I want for you than happiness. Deep down, I know it will always be her. While that sentence feels like a shot, I’m coming to terms with it.
Don’t try to come find me, either. I won’t be going to any of the places we’ve ever talked about, I do have my secrets still. Not Yucatan, not Tybee, and certainly not Jekyll. Take care of my brother.
All my love,
Y/N
“When did you and Y/N break up?” Sarah asked. JJ couldn’t even think straight. Y/N and the boy broke up about a week ago, for that specific reason, JJ thought there was something there with Kiara. He didn’t think the girl would pick up her stuff and bolt. Leave her brother, her best friends, and the life she claimed to love.
“I, uh, initiated it last week or so,” he stuttered, “it wasn’t definite or anything, but it was insinuated I guess. We had a conversation about it, but I don’t think I ever could have said it out loud.”
“Oh,” she thought. “You know she really loved you with every bone in her body.”
He sucked in a deep breath to try to keep his tears at bay. How could he walk out to the front room and face John B. He was the reason the youngest Routledge had left. With Big John gone, she was all he had left. Hell, with Luke gone, she was all JJ had too. In some form he robbed his friends of a family member.
JJ laid down on the neatly made bed and latched onto the sweatshirt that smelled just like her. His memory flooded with images of Y/n in that sweatshirt. From it covering her bikini when they went night swimming, it being the one sweatshirt that was specifically for after she came home from school, the one thing that grounded her when she was having a rough day. JJ felt his chest start to tighten, and his hands were clammy and shaking.
“I thought you said you’d never break her heart!” JB screamed. Impeccable timing.
“John B don’t–” Sarah tried to interject.
“No Sarah, he promised. He promised me almost three years ago that if I gave him permission to date Y/n, he wouldn’t hurt her. He knew he’d be breaking more than just her heart. And now I can’t even help her pick up the pieces. I can’t fix my baby sister, the way she fixed each and every one of us!”
“Bro, you think this is what I wanted? I had a conversation with her. Nothing was definitive. It’s not my fault she took her shit and ran!”
“When has Y/n ever not taken her feelings and ran? Name one time!”
JJ sat there in thought, and there had been one time she didn’t run, and he had promised that he wouldn’t tell. He was going to anyway.
“When you disappeared. I held her while she cried herself to sleep for nights on end. So don’t act like I never treated her right. You know I did.” JB ran his hands through his hair and left the room.
“Until you decided you may have feelings for the girl who is like her big sister.” That stung.
“What’s going on?” Kie asked.
“She’s gone.” John B said. “‘Cuz JJ’s in love with you.”
~~
JJ sat in the hammock, wearing the navy sweatshirt he hadn’t worn in years. It smelled just like her. He could even feel the marks of where she rolled the sleeves and dug her thumbs into the side.
He barely remembered last week’s conversation about Kie, but never did he think that it would cause you to disappear. Y/n was so incredibly loyal. She wanted him. Every. Damn. Day. She wanted him when the clouds were out, and the usually blue sky was gray. She wanted him when he was bruised and beat up, she wanted him when he was crabby after a 14 hour shift, she wanted him at every hour of the day in any way she could have him.
It was just a conversation, he thought. He never flat out said that he was leaving her for the tanned, wealthy kook.
He felt so fucking stupid. He felt so much self-hatred. He remembered when they were 12 and 14, and Y/n wanted to walk to the gas station a few streets over, but John B wouldn’t go with her. He remembered what she usually bought. Peach iced tea, sour straws and a bag of munchie mix. Every single time.
He remembered when the girl got drunk for the first time and dialed him to come get her. God, she was so inebriated. She clung to the boy, giggling profusely. That was the first night she ever told the boy she loved him. Y/n never knew it, but JJ kept that memory locked in his head.
He pondered the time she was ready to give him her virginity. He remembered how nervous she was, but how much she trusted him.
It had grown dark by the time he wandered back into the Chateau. He was surprised JB didn’t kick him out, he fully expected to be out on the streets by now. As he stumbled towards the bedrooms, he went past his own, and fully dove into the light purple sheets he had come to love. She’ll come back, he thought. She has to.
#jj x reader#jj outer banks#jj maybank#jj maybank imagine#Outer Banks#outer banks imagine#obx imagine#hms pogue
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Value - 2K Angst Drabble
This one is for @uselessbard1031 who I rambled to endlessly last night. Thank you for entertaining me haha <3
Used third person and gave reader/oc a name to trial if I liked writing like this
Ambessa Medarda has known true love with her wife, and yet she underestimated the value of trust - losing what little light she had.
Warnings: This is an Angsty, Hurt No Comfort One with a Death at the End so please don’t read if that’ll upset you. Some swearing and suggestiveness but it’s not the focus.
She’d been gone for nearly three months and Ariadne was dreadfully bored.
She was not dependent on Ambessa for entertainment, nothing so ridiculous, but she did make everything more colourful. More red.
Having endless money and power meant that sneaking about was a thing of the past. The Medarda crest, solid gold, sat shining on her chest as she floated about rocky cobbled streets. There was nothing new, there never was, but she was not permitted to travel beyond Noxus Proper without her. Normally, this meant nothing as she was her constant shadow, the gentle, hypnotic pairing to her razor edge. But this time, with nothing more than brawling limbs and smashed skulls, her dangerous dance was not required. So here Ariadne was, eating the same old woman’s sweetbread four streets from the dock whilst yet another report was piled on her desk at home.
Ambessa’s firm hands ripped the leg from the charred chicken, dark eyes fixed on a tattered battle map. The uselessness of her scouts was astounding and would not go unchecked. They were essentially blind, running out of resources and fatigued from months of mindless, tactless brawling. The fact that it was in Ionia did not help, with plush swirls of magic and deception twinkling all around. She missed her wife, her etherealness echoed here like an aftershock determined to drag her back home. A few more weeks my love, her tired mind called. If she focused she could see the curl of her hair, the smirk of her lip, hear the lightness of her gasps. Ambessa had mutilated the chicken with her teeth, Ariadne the thing in her grip in her mind’s eye.
Books and scrolls were scattered across a weathered, creaking table. Most of the surroundings had been turned to ash and cinder anyway, with no viable way to hide or reposition. The only true way was left, which heralded their salvation. A way to hide, to act from the shadows, lined with the very resources they needed. It had been a debate for mere seconds, but her smog covered, silent tent reaffirmed that left was the only way to go.
It took two weeks of blood, sweat and fury, but the ground yielded to them. Emerald greens and pretty blues were tinged with a corrosive brown, the very core of the soil’s nutrients being harvested till the land began to wheeze and sigh. The trees here had a particularly hard, spiraling texture that made for a perfect building resource. Each thing they took strengthened them, Noxians rising from the ashes of their struggle with hardened, determined looks. The small, serene pools would cleanse themselves eventually, Ambessa reassured her officers as they tinted it crimson from dried Ionian blood. They were cleansed, restored and Ambessa once again thought of her wife, grateful she had been blessed with knowledge of such a place and sure of her understanding.
Ariadne was struggling to master where the sun would fall. She was a proficient painter, all mediums yielding to her and yet without her reference she was stuck. Her painting knife clattered against marble, aching back crackling backwards as she surveyed the scene. Her scribbles could wait, news had reached them that the battle was finally won. Ambessa would be home within the week and celebrations didn’t plan themselves.
It took her years to adjust to the boastful nature of Noxian victories, but now she relished in it with a ferocity rivalling Ambessa herself. Food, wine, glittering decoration. All of it to honour her Warrior.
Nights were restless, her own duties weighty when she governed alone. Each choice felt sticky, lingering as she honoured the fickle balance of the Noxian and Ionian within her. It felt easier now, nearly two decades after their wedding, to see how she merged with her beloved wolf. She was more giving, more aware of the dusting of people that coated their every path. Ambessa tempered her kindness with the lens of reality, dust was an endless, ever renewing resource and she could not aid and cleanse it all. Though she made these choices she was glad for her wife’s return. The boat docked early afternoon, a well rested legion ready to prepare for their welcome party.
Ambessa only appeared moments before the hosting would begin, which was predictable and infuriating. Ariadne’s body sang a siren song, pushing her into strong, certain arms.
“Hello, Little Moonbeam,” Ambessa said, eyes glowing as she pawed at her silk clad hips.
“Lupus,” She responded, planting a charged kiss to her cheek, “How lovely to see you after so long,”
Ambessa snorted, “I’d like to see you continue pleasantries when I bend you over and use you in front of all of our men,”
“Empty threats don’t suit you, you wouldn’t ruin my little soiree,”
“I might,”
“There is stuffed lobster and enough left over butter that you can lick it from my skin later,”
“I suppose I can schmooze for a few hours,” She conceded with a grin, hand squeezing her ass before wandering off to greet people.
Ariadne rolled her eyes. Her precious, silly woman. Commanding and brutal, with the tenderest voice in all of Runeterra. Champagne bubbles tickled her nose as music and movement enthralled her senses. This was a success, perhaps her best yet.
Hours dashed past, stomachs and hearts heavy with rich, decadent food and an overindulgence of spirits. Ambessa was practically tugging her back to their chambers, filthy words and wandering hands.
Sprawled half naked across their bed with pretty beaded clips carving into her head, she watched her look around.
“Where’s the butter then, hmm?” Ambessa bit at Ariadne’s raised ankle, looming above her.
A light, shining laugh pierced through the warlord’s heart as she shook her head, “Not yet, you always tell me of the battle first,”
“We fought, I smashed things, we won,” Her lips were frantic, impatient, nose nuzzling her ankle.
“Lupus,” She whined, “Please tell me properly,”
“Gods,” A grunt as she flopped next to her, mattress bouncing, “Fine,”
Ambessa’s storytelling was astounding, the fight a harsh mashing of colour and feeling hanging over Ariadne’s eyes as she curled closer. Gasps left her, pride burning low in her stomach as she envisioned her victorious, otherworldly wife conquering yet another patch of their little world.
One thing stood out, a confusing detail, “Where did you end up? The letters didn’t say, but clearly something changed the tides,”
Ambessa tensed, rationality returning slowly. Fuck. Yes.
Ariadne frowned, sitting up, “Ambessa? Nowhere bad I hope, you said there was lots of ash and destruction,”
A click of an unsure tongue, “Western Ionia, just to the right of the Grove,”
Her face dropped, eyes wide, “Was it safe? Please tell me you checked,”
“I preserved it as best as I could, Moonbeam,” Ambessa’s voice was so gentle, “I’m sorry,”
Rage curdled her very blood, “Those bastards,” She spat, “That was such a sanctuary and they ruined it? For a petty patch of land?” That was the Noxian talking, conquest, a necessary and easily accepted part of life.
“I know,” The warlord continued, “It was needless, if they had surrendered we wouldn’t have needed to utilise it,”
No, a hopeful part of Ariadne cried, She misspoke.
“Utilise it?” Her voice was even, eyes understanding.
“Yes,” Ambessa nodded, spurred on by her calm reaction, “It was the only way to ensure victory, the resources there were far more valuable than I’d realised,”
Valuable, the darkness sang, valuable indeed. “And this was clearly the only way,”
“Exactly, I told Rictus you would understand, we couldn’t retreat when we were so close,”
It settled on her, warm and weighted like a bath as it dragged her under. Retreat was an option, just not one acceptable to her warlord’s pride. Seventeen years of her life was draining away now, crimson as it leaked from her soul.
“I understand exactly, General Medarda,” Her eyes were dull, “Victory was secured,”
“I-Yes,” Ambessa said, face still and sharp at her wife’s shift.
“Such a small cost this time too,” She continued, venom sharp and tart, “A true relief, you have only lost your wife,”
Powerful shoulders twitched, any attempt at words flattened by the sudden onslaught of vicious, slicing words Ariadne unleashed.
“Your only boundary, your only concession was my Grove,” Spit and iron tainted her tongue, “I conceded all else, gave myself to you without restraint. I allowed you to kill my people, steal their land and destroy their traditions and in return you promised me that it would remain preserved,”
“Allowed me?” Ambessa scoffed, despite herself, bitterness merging with panic, “I do not need your permission, you forget yourself,”
“Clearly,” The shadows were turned on the warrior now, sharp nails carving through the skin on her thigh, “I never should have submitted to your obsessions, becoming another battered trophy,”
She growled, grip crushing a dainty wrist, “Obsession? I love you wholeheartedly and this is the thanks I get?”
“You wouldn’t know love if it choked your very soul from you, Lupus,”
She retreated now, too late, warm platitudes on those plush, devouring lips.
What a battlefield their bedroom would make, the landscape a No Man’s land of affection and betrayal.
Violent hands flung the Medarda crest across the room, a window shattering to beckon in icy winds. Perfect, true, poetic. The artistic side of Ariadne relished in the physical markers of her turmoil, each part of her breaking as their space devolved into ruins.
Ambessa dodged each projectile, with increasing concern. This was not the anger she had anticipated, there was no balance of wills here. Her darling wife’s eyes were wrong, black as molten tar as she obliterated their life together. No calling, no sweet words, no reprimands brought her back from the cliff’s edge. The rocky waves summoned Ariadne and she fell, willingly, into the vengeful murky depths.
Fury licked at her, hungry and strong, “You won’t even give me a proper fight, you destroy our marriage and then coddle me like a fool,”
“I don’t want to fight you,” Ambessa said, shoulders passive, “I want to listen, my darling, to help you recover,”
“I don’t give a fuck what you want,” Adriadne screamed, lungs full of lava, as she threw the ornate pollarm on the wall to her, gripping one herself “Fight me you Coward,”
Ambessa caught it instinctively, brow furrowed, “That is enough, Ariadne,” She stepped forward, “You do not know how to use that, you could hurt yourself,”
The precision of a painter, swift and true, sliced Ambessa’s face from nose to crown. Soft, curling locks drifted on the cold wind, blood seeping into her mouth. There was no transition, no gradual decline.
Ariadne lay face down on the silk sheets, with her arms painfully pulled behind her, a firm knee on her lower back to keep her pinned, “Are you quite done?”
She was no wolf, the woman towering over her ensured she would never wish to be and her adrenaline bled out. The result was more than she could have feared, glassy eyes observing the bombed out craters in her surroundings, her thoughts jumbled.
“Moonbeam?” It was so sweet, a hypnotic hum to soothe her and she let it, just for a moment, just to gather her thoughts.
Ambessa relaxed as her wife’s body went limp, crawling over her form and pulling it into her embrace. Her nose, now cold from the night air, bumped against her collarbone as she rocked and shushed her.
“Everything’s going to be okay, little one,” She sounded so sure, so certain, “You’re not going anywhere, I have you, we’re going to be just fine,”
Ambessa was right, she realised, she wasn’t going anywhere with a wife such as hers.
Ariadne couldn’t have that, Ambessa deserved to lose as she had.
Serene, with considered movements, she took the dagger from her wife’s belt and slashed her own throat.
The gargle was wrong, the pain immaterial as she felt searing pleasure at the warlord’s watery, desperate eyes.
Let your ‘love’ choke you, Ambessa Medarda.
Ariadne was finally free of her invisible cage, soul dancing off to a thriving forest where the sun settled just as she had imagined it would.
#ambessa x reader#reader insert#ambessa medarda#arcane ambessa#arcane#angst#im hurtin#hurt/no comfort
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