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suzukiblu · 4 months ago

Note

I beg you desperately and with all the hope that makes a lump in my throat, may we please get some more Jason going home accidentally. My week is testing me aggressively and I'm tipsily seeking comfort.

I tried to write a bit of new content for this but tbh I did not have the spoons or the focus to manage it, so instead here's the whole current story-so-far all put together and all in order behind the cut here, since even the "chrono" tag for this story is not really all that chronological and I'm, like, eighty-five percent sure that there's gotta be at least a COUPLE excerpts in here that haven't gone up yet. If nothing else, I know there's some little bits and pieces I've added or adjusted in editing, and hopefully it'll be a satisfying read to get all in order and all together for . . . quite possibly the first time, yeah, hah.

Well, it's 16.5k, if nothing else, haha.

Sorry for the day or two's wait on getting back to you with this; hope your week's improved, friend.

Jason fucked up his suppressants somewhere in fucking Barbados, of all places, and by "fucked up" he means "lost in a firefight".

So that was a problem, definitely.

He'd had two days before it was going to be a serious problem, though, and a lot of bad guys to deal with before he could deal with said problem. But it would've been fine, if there hadn't been a local supply chain issue with omega suppressants.

Or it would've been fine if he hadn't been with Roy and Kori at the time. If he hadn't been with two unfairly gorgeous alphas that he'd been relying on to watch his ass for months, who'd both saved his life and carried him out of the shit more than once; who'd both looked at him like he was a real and actual person, still, and had never once been disappointed in the kind of real and actual person that he really and actually was.

Or maybe just if he hadn't known damn well just how fat both their knots were from Dick's goddamn locker room gossip when he'd been a fucking stupid and stupidly impressionable not-dead-yet teenager.

Dick was a goddamn beta, the bastard. He shouldn't have even known how good Tamaranean knot supposedly was! That should not have been a thing!

Jason, unfortunately, had been gifted with an absolute whore with absolutely no shame for a predecessor, and so had spent his accidentally suppressant-free time thinking far, far too much about Dick's goddamn dumbass war stories from his Titans days and exactly how many of them had ended with "and then Kori blew my fucking back out and it was the fucking shit".

The bastard.

So yeah, Jason had gone into a stress heat after two lousy missed doses of suppressants, because of fucking course he had! Of fucking course that was his fucking life!

And of fucking course said stress heat had happened while he was laying low in a bare-bones safehouse with Roy and Kori and a California king and absolutely no other methods of distraction.

Of course it had.

"Do you require assistance, friend?" Kori asks, and Jason probably could answer her verbally, but instead he just very literally climbs her and refuses to get down until she promises to blow his fucking back out. And really, he only actually gets down at all because Roy is standing just slightly out of reach and Jason very, very desperately needs to get his mouth on him.

Just–desperately.

"Oh–both of us?" Roy manages, his face going bright red.

"Both of you at once," Jason growls, and then tackles him to that damn California king. Kori is clearly delighted.

Jason is pretty damn delighted too, once he’s gotten both their knots in him.

Dick had not been exaggerating the locker room talk. If anything, he'd undersold things. Roy was so fucking careful and thorough and Kori was so fucking confident and relentless and Jason was . . . Jason was . . .

Actually Jason might be in love, maybe? It's possible that this is what being in love is. Like, as a thing.

Or whatever.

So Jason had spent a week getting fucked so good that even the pit hadn't had any complaints, and then it'd been back to business as usual for the next couple of months and he hadn't thought about it again outside of his personal time, and maybe once or twice when Roy or Kori had stepped in a little too close or made casual eye contact or just smiled at him like they were actual friends or something, the utter bastards. But otherwise, yeah, no. Business as usual.

And some very vivid and imaginative new sex dreams and stupid romantic daydream fantasies not as usual.

But again: whatever. That crap was Future Jason's problem. Current Jason is busy shoving alllll of that inconvenient emotional shit into a nice helpful repression box and just leaving it there to rot, and that’s just gonna be that.

And no, he isn't reading romance novels again. Shut the fuck up, Roy. It’s Pride and Prejudice, not goddamn bored housewife smut.

Admittedly, the bored housewife smut might've actually been less embarrassing than the romantic yearning, especially when Kori asks him what his new book’s about and Jason already knows that Roy knows it well enough that he'll be able to tell if he bullshits her, but whatever.

Last time he watches that stupid A&E miniseries with the prick, no matter how damn good Colin Firth looks in a wet shirt.

Ugh.

"We need to talk," Roy says while standing in the middle of a kill floor with a trick arrow nocked and a stranger's blood all over his face. Jason wants to kiss him. Or kill him. Or maybe do both of those things at once? Maybe? But like–biohazards. "Like, about our feelings. Specifically the specific feelings that I am specifically having about the two of you and your specific feelings."

"Oh!" Kori says with a bright smile as she lights up with both visible delight and destructive solar radiation. She is also very kiss/kill-able right now, Jason thinks, though the radiation thing could also be an issue. "Well, my specific feelings are that you and I should mate our lovely Jason at his earliest possible convenience and then consummate said mating under the stars. Repeatedly. I have refreshed my knowledge of the appropriate Earth customs, so do you think Lian would rather be the flower-bearer or the ring-girl?"

"I'm going back to Gotham," Jason blurts in panicked self-defense.

"Is that an invitation or an escape route?" Roy asks, raising an eyebrow at him.

"I'm going back to Gotham right now," Jason says, which he understands is not an actual answer but is still not going to clarify any more than that. Then he flees the kill floor. He flees the kill floor very, very quickly.

Repression box time.

So yeah, Jason ditches them both in Prague and heads back to Gotham the long way. He doesn't answer when Roy tries calling his burner, though he does text their very small group chat a vague confirmation that he isn't dead again yet a day or three later. Kori immediately sexts him in response, but he's pretty sure that she just still thinks that's how texting works.

Look, he hasn't corrected the misassumption.

Fuck, she is just unfairly attractive all the time, though, isn't she. And even more so when he's desperately trying to avoid her and also his emotions.

Roy also sexts him, and is also unfairly attractive despite being who he is as a person. Then the two of them get distracted sexting each other instead, and Jason just lets himself pretend that they can't see his "read" receipts as he follows along.

So he hadn't been all that subtle about how much of a turn-on it'd been the handful of times that they'd gone at each other during his heat despite both being alphas, okay? Sue him. Who the fuck could've been? Not fucking Dick, that's for fucking sure.

Jason is pretty sure that he will never again see anything as mind-meltingly, panty-soakingly hot as the sight of Roy taking Kori's big fat knot in Jason's own damn heat nest and whining for it in his alpha voice while she so-sweetly told him what a good bitch he was being for her. Just–nope. No. Definitely not.

Jason didn't even know alpha voices could whine like that. Like, he had not been any kind of aware that was an actual thing that an actual alpha voice could actually do.

Also they were both a lot more flexible than he'd ever really let himself think about too much before.

And had a lot more . . . endurance.

So that'd all been very extremely destructive to his sanity, yeah. And his higher thought processes.

And just his . . . everything, pretty much. Pretty much his everything, yeah.

Kori and Roy keep sexting the group chat with annoyingly helpful visual aids until Jason has to stop in a shitty motel just outside of Gotham and fuck himself stupid for a few hours, because they're the literal worst teammates in the literal entire world and he hates them both and also he wants both their stupid fucking knots in him right fucking now and Lian can be the flower-bearer and the ring-girl as far as he's concerned, he doesn't even care.

Bastards.

Jason catches up with the group chat, takes a very, very cold shower, and then drives the rest of the way towards Gotham. He does not check his phone even one more time, because knowing Roy and Kori he'd probably crash his fucking bike if he did.

He doesn't think about any fucking romance novel bullshit either.

It's weird that he misses them already, isn't it? He doesn't usually miss people this quick. At least, not these days. He's gotten too used to being stray for that.

He's been a stray for so fucking long, it feels like, and he just . . .

Fuck, he can't even remember the last time he had real packscent on him. Which, well–yeah, of course he can't. That would imply having a pack, wouldn't it.

He thinks it was Alfred's scent, the last time.

It must've been.

He misses Alfred, too.

Maybe he'll swing by the manor in a few days, once he's settled back into the swing of things in the city and he's shown his face in a few key places and made sure nobody's fucked too much with his territory while he was away. Maybe Alfred's missed him a little himself. Maybe the others won't mind him taking up a little bit of space in their space for an hour or two. Maybe Bruce will . . .

Fuck, is he high or something? What, exactly, does Jason think Bruce is going to do if he sees him, besides say something shitty to him about how he handles his territory or lives his life or just whatever else?

Maybe he'll drag his ass back to Ethiopia again.

Yeah, that'd be a great time. Real fun for the whole family.

Not that they're any kind of family anymore.

Bruce doesn't want them to be. Doesn’t want a blooded killer or Crime Alley trash for one of his pack's omegas. Doesn't want to explain Jason being alive or help him establish a cover identity that they could somehow know each other through or publically claim him or do just . . . anything like that. Red Hood has a comm link that can connect to the Bat pack's devices and conditional access to their intel as long as he hasn't either killed anyone or freaked out on pit rage too recently and nothing else.

He isn't family.

He isn't pack.

Hell, even when Jason had been pack to Bruce, it'd only been the two of them and Alfred and the occasional semi-grudging visit from Dick. Nothing like it is now, with more goddamn Bats than a belfry. Now there's Tim and Cass and Steph and Damian and . . .

Jason knows perfectly well that there isn't a place for him in that pack, much less in the manor. There isn't even a place for him in the cave, unless some absolute asshole decides to count that bullshit memorial.

Maybe he should tell Bruce how much he fucking hates that memorial, one of these days. Not like Bruce would care, but . . . just–maybe he should.

One of these days.

Jason is distracted, he thinks. Or not thinking, maybe?

Or just very fucking stupid, maybe.

There's literally no other reason he would've just driven his bike up the road to goddamn Wayne Manor first thing into Bristol. Which . . . whatever, he's not in Red Hood's gear right now, that's all packed away in his go-bag, but still. He knows better than to pull this kind of shit.

He's not welcome at the manor. He doesn't deserve to be. Not after what he's done. What he's become. What he is.

And even if he ever were welcome, he still wouldn't belong here.

Jason wants so, so fucking badly for that not to be true.

But it is true, of course. It's always been true.

Always was true.

Jason parks his bike outside the front gate and checks the group chat. Roy and Kori are–mostly–done sexting and are talking about flowers, the fucking weirdos. Like they'd even bother having a ceremony if they actually did get mated. Who'd even care?

Not anyone on his side of the goddamn aisle, that's for fucking sure. And what, they're gonna invite Blackfire and Green Arrow?

Yeah, no. Definitely not.

Jason thinks about the absolutely ludicrous idea of texting his opinion on mating ceremony flowers to the chat, but doesn't.

He feels . . . off, kind of. Restless. Nervous. Nauseous.

Like fucking crying his fucking eyes out until he fucking dies.

Again.

He really misses Alfred. It's a little late–late enough that he's definitely missed dinner, but not really late enough to interfere with anyone's patrol schedule. He could just . . . duck in for a bit. Check in. See what the old man's been up to and catch up on the pack gossip like he actually deserves to know any of it.

Maybe Alfred would let him sneak into the cookie jar like he always pretends he isn't gonna.

Jason still remembers every single goddamn cookie recipe Alfred ever let him help him with back in the day, but somehow not a one of them has ever tasted the same as they do when he's sneaking them out of that stupidly fancy old cookie jar or off a cooling rack on one of Alfred's immaculate kitchen counters. Not even close.

Jason really wants one of those cookies right now. And also Alfred. And also . . .

And also he wants to be fifteen and afraid of absolutely nothing, with Bruce's pack bite on his neck and Robin's cape around his shoulders and the certainty of having a place, of being something, being someone, being . . .

Belonging.

Like he thinks he has the fucking right to, or something.

He texts the group chat.

i am the stupidest motherfucker alive or dead, he says.

fuck u zomboy thats my crown n i will fight u 4 it, Roy says.

are you well, loveliest? Kori asks, and thoughtfully includes a shot of her tits, which are as irritatingly resplendent as ever. Especially because her come is currently smeared all over them, but Jason's just gonna have to process that particular image a little bit later, when he's not having a weird emotional crisis in the manor driveway over fucking cookies.

Though he saves the pic to come back to for said "later", obviously. He's having a crisis, yeah, but he's not an idiot.

i want a cookie, he says.

. . . like in a sexy way or in an emotional regression way?? Roy says.

i fucking hate your new therapist

regression it is ok!! well u gotta b in gotham by now right?? go c ur man alfie n ask him 4 the hookup

go to hell and burn there

Roy sends him a dick pic in response, probably so Kori won't wonder why they aren't being as porny as usual and start to emulate them. Jason grudgingly saves it for later too and also fucking hates him.

we can provide you with all the emotional regression cookies you wish, loveliest, Kori says, including a very nice shot of her half-blown knot that makes Jason's traitor of a mouth water. He glazes over briefly and really hopes Babs isn't creeping on the cell phone towers yet tonight. He's almost sure that wasn't actually meant to be a come-on, but . . . we would be most appreciative of the opportunity to satisfy your desires.

Never mind. Definitely a come-on.

. . . almost definitely.

It is Kory.

Jason saves the new pic, obviously, and then sighs to himself.

if you never see me again, it was possibly tim but probably damian who did me in, he types out resignedly. in which case, either fair or fair play

k but what if it was dick tho?? Roy asks.

then i want you to burn down this whole fucking city in my fucking name, Jason says.

it would be our honor, loveliest, Kori says hopefully not too sincerely.

Then again, "burned down by a sexy alien on a vengeance bender" is a lot better of an end than Gotham really deserves at this point. And anyway, Jason's not gonna tell Kori how to live her life.

He puts his burner away and looks up at the manor. The lights are on, obviously. It's getting dark, so why wouldn't they be?

He still really wants that stupid cookie.

Jason sighs again, then gets off his bike. He'll just go up and knock, and if no one's too busy to answer then he'll just . . . go in for a little while. That's all. He has a key, technically, but he's never fucking used it and he's never fucking going to, outside of maybe a possible life or death or global crisis-level emergency.

This isn't his home. Not anymore.

So yeah. He's not gonna use the damn key.

Jason walks up to the door. It smells like Bruce has touched it. Not especially recently–not any more recently than this morning, at least–but still. It smells like Bruce has touched it.

Which it obviously would. It always does. Bruce is the pack alpha, after all. He scents this door all the damn time. It's always smelled like him. This stupid fucking door has smelled like it belongs to Bruce for a lot longer than Jason ever got to.

It smells like Alfred has touched it too. And Dick, and Damian, and Duke, and . . .

Fuck, he can even smell traces of Selina on it.

No trace of himself, though.

He hasn't been in Gotham, Jason reminds himself. He hasn't been in Gotham and he doesn't belong in the manor anyway and this isn't his home anymore. So it shouldn't hurt, that this stupid fucking door doesn't smell like him. It really shouldn't.

It shouldn't, but . . . but he still feels off, kind of, and he just . . . he isn't really . . .

He feels off. Really, really off.

The door is really bothering him. And he really wants a cookie. And . . . and something . . .

Something's wrong. He's forgetting something.

Is he forgetting something?

Jason frowns to himself and pulls out his burner again. Checks the notes app. Checks his calendar. Checks his . . .

Wait.

Jason stares at his apps.

Stares at his cycle tracker, which he hasn't opened all month.

Or all of last month.

Stress heat, he reminds himself abruptly. Stress heats throw off people's cycles all the time. And he's never been all that regular anyway, really, especially since dying and getting dumped in the pit.

Except he's been being an overemotional absolute fucking lunatic for weeks now and he already misses Roy and Kori after three lousy days and he came to the fucking manor without even fucking meaning to and . . .

Fuck.

Jason, very calmly, unlocks the front door with the key he's never once used. Then he bolts into the manor and beelines for the second-nearest bathroom, because Bruce is always over-prepared and that's the one where they always used to keep the pads and tampons and birth control and fucking pregnancy tests.

And still is, apparently.

Jason finds a test. He takes the test.

He sits down to wait for the test.

He doesn't think a single damn thing, because it'd be pointless. He doesn't have all the information. No point in catastrophizing when he doesn't even know anything yet.

So he doesn't think.

The timer on Jason's phone flashes. He looks at the test.

It's positive.

And if it's accurate, then doing the math, "bred" has got to be bleeding into his scent by now. Which Roy and Kori were probably already subconsciously noticing at least a week ago, so no fucking wonder they've been talking about their fucking feelings in the middle of fucking kill floors and saying they want to fucking mate him and won't stop sexting and fussing over him.

Shit.

He's pregnant. He's pregnant and he probably fucking smells pregnant and he's in the fucking manor like this.

He really is the stupidest motherfucker alive or dead.

. . . and he's pregnant.

Jason snaps the test in half and buries it in one of the hidden scent-blocked pockets at the bottom of his go-bag and just . . . thinks. Or tries to think, anyway. He's pregnant, and he was stupid enough to let himself come to the manor like he's actually a part of this pack–like he's a fucking traditionalist or a romantic coming home to present his pack with his pups and nest up with them all safe and protected until he whelps. Like this pack would even want his pups, much less want to put up with him and all his bullshit for that long.

God, he's such an idiot.

He should've fucking known. He should've just gone to the opposite side of the goddamn planet and denned down there and blocked Roy and Kori's numbers and deleted all the Bats' and broken his phone for good measure. He should've paid more attention to taking his birth control on time while he was on the road and not begged Roy and Kori to knot him raw for his heat no matter how good it'd felt. He should've . . . he should've . . .

He should've . . .

Jason paces from one end of the bathroom to the other. He paces back the other way. He thinks about panic-texting Roy and Kori for advice or sneaking out to get an abortion before anyone can find out he's bred or never telling anyone this happened ever or running away to Talia or having a fucking anxiety attack on the fucking bathroom floor.

He thinks, very briefly, about going and presenting the pack with his pups. Like he's an absolute fucking moron or something.

But he thinks about it, and once he's thought about it . . . once he's considered it . . .

Jason twists his hands together. Jason paces the bathroom. Jason grits his teeth.

Jason thinks about presenting the pack with his pups. Presenting the Wayne pack with his pups.

Not the Bat pack.

His hands fist against his sides. His shoulders tighten.

His stomach does nothing except for what it's already doing, which is carry a pup or two or . . . however many. Jason was a single, he semi-reliably knows. Roy was . . . maybe a single? He's pretty sure? And he only sired Lian on Cheshire, at least as far as Cheshire ever admitted to anyone. But Kori and Komand'r and Ryand'r were a litter of three, right? Or Jason thinks they were, anyway.

Probably asking Kori about that right now would be suspicious. Or at the very least give her and Roy the wrong idea about Jason's opinion of them all actually getting mated.

Not that it'd actually be the wrong idea so much as . . .

Fuck, who even knows which one of them actually knocked him up. Maybe both of them did–that happens sometimes, with omegas. Especially when the potential sires are alphas. Technically he thinks it's even possible for female betas, though that's a hell of a lot rarer and really more of a–

Just, Jesus, what in actual hell is Jason gonna do if he ends up whelping a half-alien kid in Gotham? Or if he has to explain to Lian that she's not her daddy's only pup anymore? Or if–

Jason pictures a sweet little redheaded newborn all nestled up to his chest, maybe softly glowing and floating or adorably stupid and wickedly clever or just ridiculously tiny and defenseless and all those other things all at once, and feels far, far too many feelings about the idea. His heart fucking hurts with how many feelings he feels about that fucking idea, in fact.

Alright. Ruled out sneaking out to get an abortion, apparently.

Dammit.

Jason can't actually be a real mom, though. He can't protect a pup with his lifestyle, much less properly raise one. Catherine at least tried even in the worst of her addiction, but that doesn’t mean she was in any place to actually do all that good a job, and Sheila was just an absolute piece of shit as both a dam and a person, and those are his only examples so far as "mothering" behavior goes because he is just not emotionally prepared to ever count Selina–and not even because of her actually being an alpha and therefore more the "fathering" type or all the times he tried to get her arrested back in the day. So just–just how would he ever know how to be a mom for some poor stupid kid who'd probably be just as much of a mouthy, difficult brat as he'd always been? How would he know how to be a mom for a kid genetically crazy enough to jack the fucking Batmobile's tires? How?!

Maybe . . . maybe Roy would want them, though, or . . . or something. He wants Lian even though she's Cheshire's, after all. And like, Jason is also a fucking murderer, yeah, but he’s at least never done it for the fucking money. And who knows, maybe Kori would want them herself, if they were hers. Like–that might be a thing, for all he knows. She’s got worse people than him in her immediate nuclear family, for fuck’s sake. She might not care about the pup having a dam like him any more than Roy probably would.

Jason would have to actually ask to know if either of them would actually want a pup that was half him, of course, which just sounds like some fresh fucking hell right there. Just . . . absolute and total hell, yeah.

If they didn’t, though . . . well, he couldn't put the pup up for adoption unless he was absolutely sure they weren't Kori's, given the whole alien superpowers and horrible genetic experiments issue, obviously, but that's what DNA tests are for, right? And even if they were, he could probably–

. . . wait, fuck, does he maybe have, like–alien royalty in his gut right now? Is that an actual concern that he has to actually be concerned about?

Fuuuuuck, it really might be.

Well, that'd be fun to explain to Bruce.

. . . not that Jason is actually going to be explaining any of this to Bruce, of course. Ever. Just–fuck that, fully and completely.

Please let Tamaran as a whole just not care about this pup, like, ever. Just–never. Please.

Please.

They shouldn’t, at least, because why the hell would they? Jason is slightly undead and fully murderous Crime Alley trash with no prospects and no legal identity and no pack that would ever claim him. There isn't a single planet in this or any galaxy that would be happy about hearing one of its princesses knocked up someone like him. Best-case scenario, they just cut the kid out of the line of succession completely and never ever ask them to visit.

Maybe he should just be hoping it's Roy's pup. Or pups. Or whatever.

Still could be Roy and Kori's pups, of course. That's still a disaster that could very easily be happening right now.

Jason tries to imagine raising a pup that knew they were superpowered alien royalty alongside a completely human pup that knew that their sire already had another pup and just . . . does not want to deal with that particular potential parenting minefield. Ever.

Fuck, talk about sibling rivalry. And that without even considering Komand'r being in the family tree. Or him and his whole . . . everything with Tim, basically.

Please, please let the universe at least have the mercy to let this pup be a single, Jason prays. He just seriously can't have any more attempted fratricide or whatever in the not-technically-family. He really can't deal with that. He's hit his lifetime limit. He's done. Finished. All wrapped up. Tapped out.

Or he's currently carrying the second coming of Cain and Abel. Whichever.

Fuck his life.

Jason exhales. Inhales. Tries not to panic or catastrophize or freak the fuck out. Really, really wants an Alfred cookie.

Really wants Alfred. Alfred could fix this. Alfred could make this better. Alfred could–could–

Jason wants Alfred. Jason wants–

Jason exhales.

Inhales.

Jason . . .

Jason catches a scent. Jason . . . follows the scent.

Yes. He follows the scent. The scent is what he wants. The scent will make things better. The scent will . . .

Jason leaves the bathroom. Crosses the foyer. Goes down the hall. Heads into the back of the house, where everything smells like tea and coffee and sweet, sweet things.

And like a very calm and steady and nurturing beta.

A very specific calm and steady and nurturing beta.

Jason walks into the kitchen. There's a couple of other packmates at the table; he ignores them. He loves them, obviously, but they're not who he's here for.

Grandpa is standing at the counter, pouring tea. It smells nice. Soothing. Sweet.

Not as nice as Grandpa's soft and steady pheromones, though.

"Master Jason, what a pleasant surprise," Grandpa says, setting down the tea to smile at him in a way that makes Jason feel very, very warm and very, very overwhelmed. "I didn't even hear you knock. Would you like a cup?"

Jason is vaguely aware that he should say something that counts as an actual response to . . . any of that, he guesses.

He really doesn't care, though. He just drops his go-bag full of Red Hood's gear and all his useless weapons and the snapped-in-half pregnancy test on the kitchen floor and heads straight over to Grandpa and ducks his face down to bury in his neck and breath in his scent. Soft. Steady.

Pack.

"Master Jason, are you–" Grandpa starts, sounding alarmed, and Jason grabs his hand and puts it on his own stomach and just–

Purrs.

Grandpa inhales. Gets Jason's scent too, Jason assumes.

And chokes, very quietly.

"Jason," he says, sounding absolutely wrecked, and Jason purrs again.

"Holy crap," a packmate says disbelievingly. It's–Little Brother. Not Pup Brother or New Brother or Big Brother. Little Brother, who smells like too much coffee and not enough sleep and sounds very surprised about something, and–unsurprisingly–has a laptop set up on the table in front of him.

"Alfred, oh my god, I have literally never heard you say a single one of our names without a ‘Miss’ or a 'Master' or anything attached, is Jason fucking dying?" the other packmate at the table demands worriedly. Loud Sister–not Quiet Sister. Loud Sister smells like less coffee than Little Brother and a rush of nervous energy and also sounds very surprised. Jason wonders why.

Well, it's not really important, he guesses.

"Present," he croons lowly, pressing Grandpa's hand tighter against his stomach, and Grandpa puts his other hand on the back of Jason's neck and squeezes it very, very tight.

It feels nice.

Jason purrs again.

"Ohmygod," Loud Sister chokes.

"Jason," Grandpa says again, his voice all rough and aching as his fingers splay against Jason's stomach just where the pup should be. Or . . . pups? Maybe pups, yeah. More would be better, right? Lots of pups for the pack.

And lots of grandpups for Alpha.

That would be nice, Jason thinks, purring louder.

Jason nuzzles Grandpa's throat and leans down into him. Grandpa swallows. Tightens his grip on the back of Jason's neck. It still feels nice.

Jason thinks . . . it's been a long time, he thinks, since someone held his neck like this.

Too long.

"Okay, so he's definitely feral right now," Little Brother says. "And not in the pit rage way."

"Ohhhhh so very feral right now," Loud Sister agrees. Jason wonders who they're talking about, but isn't really worried about it either way. They're all in the pack den. They're all safe. So if somebody in the pack is feral right now, they can just ride it out here and they'll be fine. So it's fine. "But he came here? Like . . . I'm not being crazy, right, he's presenting his pup to us right now, isn't he? Like–really presenting it to us?"

"Well, to Alfred," Little Brother says. "But uh . . . yeah, I think so."

"Grandpa," Jason says contentedly, squeezing the back of Grandpa's hand again. Grandpa makes a choked noise. "Great-Grandpa."

"Fuck, I think I kinda wanna cry," Loud Sister says.

"Would you like to . . . nest, perhaps? Master Jason?" Grandpa asks carefully, clearing his throat. Jason considers the question. Nest means warm. Safe. Good things for the pup. Or pups?

Whichever.

"Nest," he agrees contentedly, nuzzling Grandpa's throat again. His scent is so nice. Jason's missed it so, so much.

Jason missed Grandpa's scent before he ever even knew it existed, he thinks.

"Then would you prefer your bedroom or the front living room for it? Or . . . somewhere else?" Grandpa asks even more carefully. Jason considers again. The bedroom would be easier to defend. Smaller. Harder for the pack to come visit, though. More out of the way. And if he needed backup, they'd be farther off. The front living room is right up by the foyer, though. Easy for everyone to check in when they come home or before they leave. Lots of room for them all to fit in it, too. He can't really think of a better option for that.

"Living room," Jason decides. Grandpa makes another choked noise.

"Of course, Master Jason," he says, his voice all tight. "Please come with me.”

Jason purrs.

Grandpa takes his hand and takes him to the front living room. Jason knows where it is, obviously, but it's nice being taken anyway. Grandpa wants him to nest. Grandpa wants his pups. He thinks Jason did good and he's pleased with him for doing good.

Good, Jason thinks.

"I'll just be a moment, Master Jason," Grandpa says thickly, then ushers him through the door and leaves him in the living room. Little Brother and Loud Sister linger in the foyer, Little Brother’s laptop tucked under his arm. Jason didn't even notice them following them.

Well, it's helpful that they did.

"Pillows," he tells them matter-of-factly because there aren’t really very many nesting pillows in here, and then starts fussing over the blankets draped over the couch as they both share a brief glance before heading off, hopefully in search of the requested pillows.

The pup definitely needs pillows, Jason knows. And his nest definitely needs pillows, too.

It won’t be big enough, if there aren’t more pillows.

Jason turns the front living room upside down and most of the assorted blankets and pillows that he finds in it smell like pack, so they're good, but a couple smell more like Pup Brother's suitors, so those ones Jason tosses out into the foyer. Pup Brother's suitors are . . . fine, he guesses? But not for his nest.

"What on earth are you doing in there, Todd?" Pup Brother himself asks, eyeing the crumpled blankets on the foyer floor. Quiet Sister is standing beside him and looks excited, leaning forward towards the doorway on her tiptoes. Jason didn't hear them coming, but he wasn't all that worried about listening for anyone either. Also, they're both very quiet when they move anyway.

"Nest," he says. He doesn't think he's being all that subtle here, but Pup Brother didn't get a traditional pack upbringing, he knows. At least, not the kind that allowed for nesting. That's not really how the League works.

He definitely never nested when he was with the League.

". . . nest?" Pup Brother asks, and just a little hinted flash of curiosity crosses the back of his eyes for a moment. Does Pup Brother ever build nests, Jason wonders? He's an omega too. He should learn how, if he hasn't yet.

"Nest," he repeats firmly, then gestures beckoningly with a blanket that smells acceptably of packscent. Nobody specifically stronger than anybody else; just an easy tangle of a whole mess of different packmates all mixed in together. Pup Brother frowns, looking confused.

Nest! Quiet Sister signs delightedly before giving Pup Brother an encouraging push into the living room. She doesn't come in herself, though. Which–Quiet Sister is an alpha, of course, so that makes sense. Jason just wasn't sure if she'd know the etiquette, all things considered.

Well, he isn’t sure if Pup Brother does either, really, but that’s fine. He’s the one who’s supposed to teach Pup Brother that kind of thing anyway.

"Er," Pup Brother says doubtfully, glancing between them. "Do you require . . . assistance, Todd?"

Jason dumps an armful of throw pillows on him, then starts demonstrating how to arrange them on the floor. Pup Brother frowns again, holding the unused pillows in his arms and observing the building process intently. Jason’s pleased by that. Pup Brother should learn this. Pup Brother should learn this, so he's showing Pup Brother this. So he's being good! Very good. A good omega. Yes!

They're both being good.

So that's good.

Jason purrs some more. Quiet Sister flutters her hands happily, still waiting in the doorway. Jason wants to invite her in, but really needs to get the nest more established first.

He'll let her in the nest itself, he already knows. Once it's done, obviously. Quiet Sister probably hasn't really been in a nest before–Pup Brother is the only other omega in the pack, after all, and she doesn't have an omega mate or any omega friends, so when would she have?

. . . unless she's still courting that weird flirty omega from Little Brother's other pack, maybe? The sort-of-alien-sort-of-human one that makes cloud castles and almost drowned with her in a basement that one time or whatever. Whatever his name is.

Or . . . wait, was Little Brother the one courting him?

Hm.

Well, maybe they both were. Jason isn't really sure, come to think.

He'll ask later, he decides, and lays down some more throw pillows. Either way he's still inviting Quiet Sister into his nest once it's done. Quiet Sister deserves all the nests she can get.

Jason hopes she'll like his.

He finishes with the throw pillows and starts looking for more blankets. Grandpa is back in the doorway with a whole stack of them, which is very conveniently timed and therefore very Grandpa.

"I was not aware that Todd could become feral without invoking the pit," Pup Brother says skeptically.

"I suppose maternal instinct has somewhat superseded its effects for the time being," Grandpa replies with a wry, warm smile, looking a bit misty-eyed. Jason purrs at him again, then takes the stack of blankets and starts shaking them out and sorting through them for suitability. They all smell good–all smell like pack.

"‘Maternal instinct’?" Pup Brother repeats blankly.

"That seems to be why Master Jason is here tonight, Master Damian," Grandpa says. "He is presenting us with his pup."

"He–oh!" Pup Brother says, his eyes widening as Quiet Sister beams. "I didn't–realize. Er. Should I be . . . in here?"

Jason teach, Quiet Sister signs. Pup Brother looks flustered. Damian learn.

"Oh," Pup Brother says just a little weakly. "I–er. Yes. Very well."

Jason purrs at him too, then resumes sorting the new blankets. This one smells like New Brother, and this one smells like Big Brother and his mate, and this one . . .

Oh.

Jason . . . pauses. The blanket in his hands is soft and heavy and dark and smells like . . . smells like . . .

It smells like Alpha.

"Is that one . . . acceptable, Master Jason?" Grandpa asks quietly.

Jason rubs his thumbs across his grip on the blanket. Buries his mouth in the edge of it just long enough to taste the pheromones scenting it. Breathes it in.

Yes. It smells like Alpha.

Their alpha.

Jason lays the Alpha-scented blanket over the bottom of his growing nest like a foundation, purring soft and reverent as he tucks all the corners in, and then resumes building from there. Grandpa makes a very quiet choked noise again.

"Delivery," Little Brother says as he and Loud Sister reappear in the doorway with more nesting pillows than Jason actually realized were in the entire pack den. Good, he thinks, crooning approvingly as he nudges Pup Brother to go and fetch them. Good for his mates' pups. Lots of pillows. Lots of warm and soft.

Just–lots.

"Do we know who sired Todd's pup?" Pup Brother asks warily as he ferries back the nesting pillows just a little awkwardly. It’s going to take him a few trips to get them all, but Jason doesn't mind. There's no rush.

"He hasn't said," Grandpa says.

"Surely we should inquire, then," Pup Brother says. "It seems . . . important."

"Damian, you and Bruce are literally the only people in this pack currently living with any kind of a blood relative," Loud Sister tells him wryly. "Except for Jason and the baby now, I guess. And also that is a super-rude kind of question to ask somebody who's in feral drop anyway."

"Well, they could be someone dangerous," Pup Brother grumbles. "Or a civilian, in which case they would need to be retrieved as soon as possible."

"‘Retrieved’?" Little Brother asks with a frown. "What for?”

"They would not be safe outside the manor," Pup Brother says. "The sire of the first pups of our pack's next generation would be a valuable target for our enemies."

". . . okay, good point there," Little Brother mutters as he and Loud Sister both wince. "Uh, Jason? Who'd you spend your last heat with?"

"Mine," Jason replies, contentedly fluffing the new layer of pillows in his nest. It’s much more important than that question.

". . . your what, exactly?" Loud Sister tries.

"Mine," Jason repeats, still more absorbed in the process of nest-building than anything else. They can talk once his nest is done, he figures. If they really have to, he means. "My . . . mmmmm. My sun. And my arsenal."

"Please don't mean a Kryptonian when you say 'sun'," Little Brother mutters under his breath. "Or an assassin when you say 'arsenal'."

"I love them," Jason replies in satisfaction, and lays down another blanket. This one smells like Grandpa. It's so nice.

"Oh wow, Jason just actually admitted an emotional attachment willingly and in cold blood and without triggering the pit," Loud Sister says, her eyes wide. "Yeah, okay, we reaaaaally shouldn't have asked about the sire."

"No, Damian's right," Little Brother says, shaking his head. "This is important. They could be in danger. Or, uh, planning to attack us. Depending. Are your sun and your arsenal civilians, Jason?"

Jason laughs.

That's such a funny question.

"They're gonna burn down Gotham for me," he says dreamily.

"Not the most reassuring answer but noted," Little Brother says. "Are they going to burn it down with, I don't know, specifically heat vision?"

Jason laughs again.

"I'm just gonna call Kon real quick," Little Brother says, pulling out his phone.

"Isn't he an omega?" Loud Sister asks doubtfully.

"Yeah, but Supergirl's an alpha," Little Brother says. "And, relatedly, so is Power Girl."

Jason takes a moment to think about Power Girl. Just, like . . . as a person and everything. And as an experience.

He purrs.

". . . yeah, definitely call Kon," Loud Sister says, half-eyeing him for some reason.

Little Brother calls.

"Hey, Tim," Little Brother's phone hums as Jason's busy demonstrating how to build up the sides of the nest for Pup Brother, who's still watching the process intently. "What's up, dude?"

Oh. It's the cloud castle omega, Jason realizes.

"I forget which one of you's courting him," he muses distractedly as he reinforces the nest a little more. He’s pretty sure he knew, anyway. But maybe not.

"Wait, who's getting courted?" Little Brother's phone asks, sounding puzzled.

"Nothing! No one!" Little Brother sputters as he turns red. So maybe he's the one doing the courting, then? But also Quiet Sister is leaning in towards the phone with a very pleased expression on her face, so maybe not.

"Kon," she says happily.

"Oh, hey there, Batbabe," Little Brother's phone says, sounding pretty pleased too. "Nice to hear from you again."

"Kon," Quiet Sister repeats in a low and carrying alpha-voiced rumble, which may or may not count as an actual response to her, and the phone giggles flirtatiously. Little Brother makes a face.

"Kon, do you know if Power Girl might've heat-partnered Hood recently?" he cuts in quickly. "Or . . . ever, I guess?"

"I don't know, Tim, do you remember how we talked about boundaries and how some people still have them even when they're wearing coordinating superhero costumes?" his phone asks dryly.

"Yes," Little Brother very clearly lies.

"Yeah, well, Power Girl and I definitely have them," his phone says. "Despite the super-hearing and the X-ray vision and how absolutely desperately I want her to throw me down and fucking rail me, which should tell you a lot."

"Jason just showed up at the manor pregnant and feral with literally no warning and when we asked him who the sire was he just called them his 'sun'," Little Brother says.

". . . alright well so much for boundaries, I guess," his phone says. "Lemme text her."

"Thank you," Little Brother says in relief.

"You're just lucky that you're cute and I'm easy," his phone scoffs. "Hmmm. She says 'no, does he need me to?' Lucky bitch."

"Dammit," Little Brother says. “Alright, thanks anyway. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Such a romantic,” his phone teases. “Speaking of heat-partnering, you bringin’ Cass along next time?”

Quiet Sister rumbles warmly. Little Brother’s phone laughs, then purrs back. Little Brother looks briefly sour.

“Sure, great, thanks,” he says. “Bye, Kon.”

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave,” his phone coos, and Little Brother ends the call with an exasperated expression.

“Why is he like this,” he mutters. “Why don’t I have better taste?”

“Because you are an idiot,” Pup Brother informs him. Little Brother eyes him dubiously.

“Helpful as always, demon brat, thank you,” he says. “Alright, it’s not Power Girl, so small favors. I don’t know how concerned we should be at this point, honestly. It might just be, I don’t know, some random assassin’s kid or something.”

“Ugh, I hope not, a Kryptonian’s pup would’ve been way less of a problem than an assassin’s,” Loud Sister huffs, making a face as she folds her arms.

“. . . explain that logic, please,” Little Brother says.

“Kryptonian babies don’t get superpowers until the sun happens to them, so they wouldn’t accidentally hurt him kicking around in-utero or anything, so we’ve got nine months ‘til shit might get complicated,” Loud Sister replies reasonably. “But assassin babies come with at least one guaranteed murderous relative and probably also-murderous rivals of said relative who are all already grown-ass murderous adults that probably don’t care about stabbing pregnant people.”

“I hate our lives,” Little Brother mutters, putting his face in his hands.

“Assassins will not be a concern,” Grandpa says dismissively, and Jason feels warm and safe. Anyone else, that might just be an assumption. From Grandpa, it’s a promise.

He loves him so much. He loves all of them, obviously, but Grandpa he loves so much. He purrs happily in his direction, and Grandpa's face goes soft for a moment, and then solid as steel.

“You’re safe here, my boy,” he says quietly. and Jason purrs again and stacks up some more nesting pillows. He knows that. Grandpa’s here, so of course he does. The pack’s here. He’s not alone this time, so he’s safe.

And Alpha will be home soon, too.

So yes. He’s safe. His pup is safe.

He wouldn’t have brought them here if they wouldn’t be.

Jason stacks up a few more nesting pillows; drapes another blanket over them and tucks in all the loose corners of it. He’s making sloping walls. He likes those the best. They’re the nicest.

( Mama built her nests with sloping walls. real Mama. not the liar.

he always wanted his nests to be like hers. )

This blanket smells like Loud Sister. A little bit like Quiet Sister too, but mostly like her. It’s nice too. Jason checks the corners of it, then gets more pillows.

“I was unaware this was such an involved process,” Pup Brother says, sounding perplexed.

“Depends on both the omega and the situation, but yeah, kinda tends to be,” Loud Sister says with a shrug, then glances towards the door. “Who’s–”

Brother, Quiet Sister signs, unconcerned. Jason perks reflexively, because there’s only two options left for that sign, and–

Ah. No, he can smell New Brother coming; not Big Brother. Well, that’s alright. Jason doesn’t know New Brother very well yet, but he should be here. Obviously he should. The whole pack should. He’s pupped now, so they’re all just going to have to hurry up and get home to meet them. Her. Him. It?

. . . whatever. Jason doesn’t even understand most of the human genders, much less any Tamaranean ones. The pup can just tell him when they figure it out.

“Hey, what’s everybody doing in–” New Brother starts to ask as he walks into the foyer, and then catches sight of Jason and startles in surprise. “Oh!”

Jason hums in idle acknowledgement at him, but doesn’t look up from the nest. New Brother is a beta; he doesn’t need nesting lessons. Though he could come in, Jason supposes.

To the room, he means. Not the nest. He doesn’t know him well enough for that yet.

. . . maybe later, though. Mm. Yeah–later, maybe.

But Pup Brother and Quiet Sister first.

“Jason came home,” Little Brother says. “Came home pregnant, specifically. He’s presenting his pup to–well, he presented them to Alfred, technically, I think the rest of us were more incidental in that. But he did let Steph and I get him pillows and he’s teaching Damian how to nest. Also he's definitely feral as hell right now, so keep that in mind.”

“Huh,” New Brother says, looking bemused. “I . . . was not under the impression that he would literally ever do any of that. Except maybe for the going feral part, though in that case I would’ve expected more blood and screaming and murder. Uh–no offense.”

“None taken, I’m sure, Master Duke,” Grandpa says dryly.

“I didn’t mean–I just, you know, I didn’t think he really considered the manor home anymore,” New Brother says awkwardly, and Jason . . . Jason feels a little unsettled, and thinks . . . is that . . . right, or . . . ?

“This manor will be a home to Master Jason for as long as it stands,” Grandpa says, simple and certain, and Jason is immediately soothed. Grandpa knows, after all. So if Grandpa says so, it’s true. “To all of you. No matter what.”

Jason loves him so much, he thinks contentedly, and layers a few more pillows.

“We should call Bruce, actually,” Little Brother says. “Do you think we should call Bruce?”

“No,” Grandpa says. “Master Bruce will just rile himself up on the way home if we call him and show up in an alpha snit. Best to just let him arrive as scheduled. He should be on his way by now anyway.”

“I guess, yeah,” Little Brother says, biting his lip. “I don’t know, I just feel like we should call him.”

“We should call Dick,” New Brother says. “Speaking of people who’re gonna get riled about this.”

“Ooo, good point,” Loud Sister says with a wince, tapping her lip. “Where is he tonight again?”

“Master Dick and Miss Barbara are already enroute as well,” Grandpa says, linking his hands neatly in front of himself. “I did call them. Though I will admit that I did not specify the purpose of my call, only that there was vital pack business to be attended to at the manor.”

“Alfred, I’m pretty sure you gave them a heart attack,” Loud Sister says with a wince. “Like you definitely gave them a heart attack.”

“I did not say that it was urgently vital,” Grandpa replies, clearly unconcerned. “Master Jason, are you hungry? Would you like something for the pup?”

Jason pauses consideringly, mulling that over, then nods agreeably. The pup needs fed, yes. The pup definitely needs fed. Especially if there's more than one. They have to grow up strong and healthy. They need taken care of.

“For the pup,” he confirms. And he still wants a cookie, too.

He really wants a cookie.

A cookie would be nice.

“Just a moment, then, Master Jason,” Grandpa says, then heads off towards the kitchen. Jason hums contentedly to himself–because Grandpa–and then goes back to showing Pup Brother how to nest.

“Damian is also fine with this?” New Brother mutters in an aside to Little Brother and Loud Sister. “Like, that’s a thing?”

“Damian is, more pressingly, not deaf,” Pup Brother says dubiously. New Brother looks momentarily embarrassed, then just shrugs.

“Look, you can’t tell me it’s not a valid question,” he says. Pup Brother glowers at him.

“Todd is an omega who trained within the League of Assassins,” he says. “He is the most acceptable candidate to provide me with these teachings.”

“They nest in the League?” Loud Sister asks skeptically.

“No,” Pup Brother says, the corner of his jaw momentarily tightening. “They do not.”

“Oh,” she says, just barely wincing. Jason purrs encouragingly at Pup Brother, then reaches out and tugs him in close enough to rub his wrists along the scent glands in his throat, scenting him with nest safe-nest-safe-nest pack-omega-protect. Pup Brother stands very, very still for it very, very stiffly. Jason purrs again, then nuzzles his hair before taking the rest of the pillows he’s holding from him and working on working them into the nest. Pup Brother stays still one moment longer, then heads back to the pillows left by the door and scoops them up to bring back. Jason purrs approvingly again, and a very faint note of . . . acknowledgment, maybe, enters Pup Brother’s scent.

Pup Brother’s scent very rarely gives off anything but challenge or disdain, if it gives off anything at all. The only ones in the pack with more control over their pheromones are Quiet Sister and Grandpa, Jason thinks. Even Alpha can’t hold himself back as well.

Alpha grew up different, of course, Jason remembers idly, and fluffs up a few of the pillows before placing them.

He turns over the pillows consideringly once or twice, then fluffs them again. After a while Grandpa comes back with a small stack of folded clothes and a tray of little sandwiches and cut-up celery sticks and apple slices with peanut butter to dip them in, and Jason very vaguely remembers being twelve years old and consistently not hungry for maybe the first time he could remember and that one weird, stupid phase where he’d refused to eat anything without cheap store-brand peanut butter being involved and driven Grandpa very politely up the wall, probably, but Grandpa had found about eight million different ways to use the stuff and Alpha hadn’t complained or forced him to eat anything he didn’t want or anything like that.

Psychologically, Jason knows it’d probably been some stupid regression thing or just because he’d never really been in a situation where he’d been able to be actually picky about food before. But at the time . . . at the time, it’d felt like proof that Grandpa and Alpha had really cared. Like, even more than getting taken in off the street to begin with had.

It’d been . . . weird. Weird that that’d made him feel that way.

Weirder than they’d put up with it, though.

So seeing Grandpa bring him peanut butter now is . . .

Jason thinks about crying, but it makes more sense to hug Grandpa and nuzzle into the scent glands in his throat, even with the high stiff collar of his shirt halfway in the way. It doesn’t matter, because Grandpa smells familiar and safe and Grandpa is familiar and safe and he brought him peanut butter like maybe he . . . remembers, maybe, that one weird stupid phase Jason’d had. Like maybe he . . . cares, still.

There’s cookies on the tray too. Jaffa cakes.

Jason hasn’t had a jaffa cake since before he died, he’s pretty sure.

If he has, he knows it couldn’t possibly have compared to Grandpa’s.

Jason purrs into Grandpa’s half-covered scent gland, then takes the tray and sets it up neatly just outside the nest, in easy reach but not in any packmates’ paths. Easy to step around. He picks out the nicest-looking jaffa cake and pushes it on Pup Brother, who looks puzzled but takes it.

“Er,” Pup Brother says, frowning at the jaffa cake in his hand. “I have reached my necessary caloric intake for the day, Todd.”

Jason doesn’t know why that matters, so just watches him expectantly. Pup Brother looks awkward, glancing towards the others. Jason prods insistently at the jaffa cake.

“Master Jason seems to want you to eat as well, Master Damian,” Grandpa supplies helpfully, seeming faintly amused, and Pup Brother looks puzzled again.

“Why?” he asks. “I am not the one with pups to feed.”

“You are a pup to feed, Damian,” Little Brother says wryly. Pup Brother’s expression turns dubious.

“Hardly,” he says. “The fact that I have not yet presented is irrelevant to my capacity to feed myself.”

Jason doesn’t really know what Pup Brother’s going on about, but he needs to eat. He pokes meaningfully at the jaffa cake again, a little concerned. Is Pup Brother not feeling well? Is he sick? He doesn’t smell sick, or like he’s in pain or anything like that either. But he’s still not eating the jaffa cake, and it’s one of Grandpa’s.

“I think if you don’t eat it you’re gonna stress him out,” New Brother says. Pup Brother scowls at him. Maybe he really doesn’t feel good, Jason thinks, and presses the back of his hand to his forehead just in case, frowning at the thought. “See?”

“This is ridiculous,” Pup Brother mutters, but he takes a bite of his jaffa cake and Jason immediately relaxes and starts purring encouragingly at him, twisting his wrist to rub his scent glands along Pup Brother’s hair with the scent of pack-pack-BROTHER-pack. Good. Pup Brother isn’t sick.

Pup Brother . . . blinks, very slowly, and then eats the rest of his jaffa cake. Jason purrs louder and scents him a little more. He’s such a good pup. Jason wants to–

The front door slams open. Everyone jumps, but Jason isn’t worried about it, because at the same time he hears Big Brother’s voice shout, “ALFRED!”

So it’s just Big Brother, and Grandpa will take care of him. It’s fine.

“Master Dick,” Grandpa says, turning towards the front door with a mildly disapproving expression, still holding the clothes he brought with the tray. Jason wonders what they’re for. “Please refrain from shouting in the den.”

“You said it was vital pack business!” Big Brother’s voice protests. Jason can’t see him from here, but isn’t worried about it. Big Brother will come into view soon enough, and then Jason will let him in the living room. Not the nest, but definitely the living room. “You haven’t said that since the last time the Court of Owls was making trouble!”

“I didn’t say it was urgent,” Grandpa says, mildly put out.

“What happened?” Big Brother’s mate asks, and Jason hears the slight squeak of her wheels. They should oil her chair, he thinks absentmindedly. It’s safer if she can move quieter. “And why is everyone in the foyer?”

“Everyone is not in the foyer, actually,” Loud Sister says.

“Bruce and Selina are still on the way, aren’t they?” Big Brother’s mate asks. “My news tracker didn’t ID them as leaving the gala until pretty recently.”

“Yeah,” Little Brother says. “She meant Jason and Damian aren’t out here, though.”

Big Brother and his mate both pause. Jason lays out another blanket.

“. . . ‘out here’?” Big Brother repeats.

“We are in the living room,” Pup Brother says, sounding annoyed. “Obviously.”

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Big Brother asks in confusion, then leans into line of sight to look into the living room past the others. Then he goes very, very still. Jason wonders why, idly, and shakes out another blanket. “. . . Jason. Are you nesting? In the living room?”

Jason huffs, because obviously, and then drops the blanket to go over to the doorway and grab Big Brother’s wrist and yank him into the living room past the others. He’s taking too long.

“Present,” Jason croons anyway, because the important part is that Big Brother is finally here, and he pulls Big Brother’s hand to his stomach.

“Oh,” Big Brother chokes, his eyes widening. Jason just pushes his nose into one of the scent glands in the other’s neck and nuzzles in contentedly. Big Brother smells strong and sure and safe, like always.

“Oh, you got the full intro,” Little Brother observes, sounding a little surprised. “Only Alfred’s gotten that so far.”

“Jason,” Big Brother says, his voice still choked, and then Jason has to suffer through being hugged with Big Brother’s free arm, but it’s fine. Big Brother’s just like that.

Anyway, Jason can keep his nose in his neck for a little longer this way anyway.

“Mmm,” he hums, nuzzling Big Brother again. “Uncle. Don’t spoil ‘em.”

“I’m gonna spoil ‘em so bad, Little Wing,” Big Brother says with a shaky little laugh, squeezing his arm around him tighter. Jason grumbles in annoyance and bites him, but not too hard.

The bruising won’t last that long, he means.

. . . probably.

Big Brother probably is gonna spoil his pup, the dumbass. Jason’s gonna have to make sure he doesn’t go overboard. A little bit of spoiling is probably okay, though. Like–just giving the pup a little bit of it can’t hurt. Jason doesn’t really know if he knows how to spoil a pup himself, so . . . Big Brother’s gonna be useful for that, yeah.

Though he’s still gonna have to make sure the idiot doesn’t go overboard, obviously.

Big Brother squeezes him tighter again. Jason bites him harder, then shoves him off. Big Brother coos happily and Jason rolls his eyes.

Moron.

“Master Jason,” Grandpa says, and holds out the clothes in his arms. Jason realizes they’re probably meant for him, so he takes them. They’re soft. Nice-feeling.

And they smell like . . .

Jason holds the folded stack of them against his chest and breathes in the scent of Alpha, and settles into his own bones.

“We have been unable to ascertain the identity of the sire,” Pup Brother informs Big Brother. “Todd did not provide a clear response when questioned.”

“Oh, yeah, I don’t even know if he’s seeing anyone,” Big Brother says. “Well, does it matter?”

“As Dames pointed out earlier, if they’re either an assassin or an easy target?” Loud Sister says. “Definitely. Like, very, very definitely.”

“. . . point,” Big Brother says, making a face. “What did he say?”

“He called them his sun and his arsenal,” Little Brother says, sounding bothered. “That was all he said. Power Girl said she hasn’t heat-partnered him, thought we probably should ask Supergirl too just in case, since–”

“Tim,” Big Brother cuts him off, staring at him as his mate muffles a low snicker. Little Brother pauses, then blinks at him.

“What?” he says.

"Jason called them his sun," Big Brother repeats, raising an eyebrow. "And his arsenal.”

"Yes?" Little Brother says.

"You know, I remember your friends' names, Timmy," Big Brother says.

"Wh–oh!" Little Brother groans, smacking a hand against the side of his head as Big Brother's mate starts laughing outright. "Starfire and Red Arrow?! Seriously?!"

"In Jay's defense, I might've talked them both up a bit back when he was young and impressionable," Big Brother replies wryly. "Or maybe a lot. So like, good job on bagging them both at once, Little Wing, I'm impressed, never actually pulled that one off myself."

"You and the damn redheads," Big Brother's mate snorts. Which . . . her hair is also red? So Jason's not really sure what that's about. "And how's Wally doing today, honey?"

"I'm sure I don't know, honey," Big Brother lies primly, folding his arms. "So how was their double-team game, Little Wing? Just for totally innocent and unselfish reasons that have nothing to do with either any unsatisfied teenage curiosity or outstanding bets with Vic or my own personal spank bank."

"They want flowers," Jason hums contentedly, finally unfolding the clothes Grandpa’s brought him. They smell so much like Alpha he must’ve slept in them last night.

"Flowers?" Big Brother tilts his head questioningly as Jason kicks off his boots and strips off his own clothes and bare remnants of weapons and armor one-handed, letting it all drop carelessly to the floor. It’s not any more important than Red Hood’s gear, right now.

"And stars," he says, still more contented.

"Stars?" Big Brother wrinkles his nose.

"Yeah," Jason says, stepping into Alpha’s soft sleep pants and pulling on his T-shirt. They fit, which is funny. Alpha used to seem like the biggest thing in the world, even face-to-face with Killer Croc or Clayface or just . . . whoever.

Good, Jason thinks, smoothing the shirt down over his stomach carefully, even though nothing’s even showing yet. Then maybe the pup will think he’s someplace that safe too.

Big Brother blinks at him. Blinks again.

Blinks one more time.

"Oh my god, are they actually mating you?!" he yelps, clapping his hands over his mouth as his eyes widen in delight. "Little Wing! My baby boy! Please let me be your man of honor, I will wear a bridesmaids' dress if I have to, I don't even care.”

Jason is admittedly tempted by the offer, if only for the entertainment factor of watching Big Brother learn to walk in heels. Although even being a male beta Big Brother would still probably look distractingly better in the dress than any of the other bridesmaids, so maybe not . . . ?

Also, really, Big Brother can probably already run in heels, knowing him.

Maybe not stilettos, though.

Hmmmmm.

Jason does like stilettos.

"A bridesmaids' dress?" Big Brother's mate asks wryly, raising an eyebrow.

"Babs, baby, you don't even know what I would do to get Jason to have an actual mating ceremony that I could actually attend," Big Brother says feelingly, waving his hands in the air between them. "Wearing a bridesmaids' dress is the least of it."

. . . Jason plucks at the collar of his borrowed shirt and wonders if Alpha would give him away, if he asked him to. If he'd . . . if he'd like to.

Want to.

If he'd dance with him, at the reception. That's normal, for the pack alpha to dance with the . . . with the bride.

So maybe Alpha would, if Jason asked him to.

Jason bites his lip, considering, and then just . . . goes back to the nest, and back to building it up. It's almost done–it doesn't need much more work. He's mostly just onto finishing touches now, really, and showing Pup Brother how to make sure everything's all comfortable and secure.

"Are nests typically this size?" Pup Brother asks, peering over his shoulder with poorly-concealed curiosity. "It seems somewhat larger than necessary."

"Depends how many people you want in 'em and, like, said people’s feelings about personal space," Big Brother replies with a shrug. "Seen both bigger and smaller, depending. You should see Donna's heat nests, they're amazing. Like, they're basically fortresses and we can literally fit the whole Titans roster in them at once, reserves included. Apparently it's an Amazon thing, they just pile on the sisters like crazy."

"That seems . . . excessive," Pup Brother says with a grimace. "Although quite frankly I cannot imagine wanting to be in a nest with anyone else at all. Certainly not while–compromised."

"I mean, maybe, but you might change your mind about that someday," Loud Sister tells him with a laugh. "I didn't ever think I'd care about nests until the first time an omega I liked invited me into one of theirs to cuddle and then, welllll . . ."

"Or if you ever get mated, you might want to then," Little Brother adds. "Partners that nest together report healthier relationships and deeper communication, and better socialization and emotional support for their pups."

"I do not 'cuddle'," Pup Brother sneers with utmost disdain. "And I in fact have no expectations of ever finding an alpha worthy of either my time or the gift of my womb."

"Isn't Jon an alpha, though?" Big Brother asks curiously, tilting his head with an expression of perfect innocence. "He's like your best friend. And that Colin kid's an alpha too, right? Wouldn't consider giving either of them a little time? Or just following Jason's example and going for broke on both?"

"I–that's–shut up and die, Grayson!" Pup Brother sputters indignantly as everyone else muffles laughter, his face bright red and own expression absolutely mortified. Big Brother grins winningly at him, all sly amusement. Pup Brother glares back darkly. "I will kill you and I will not regret the necessity of it."

"Okay, well, too bad for you but you've conditioned me to find murder threats adorable, so check and mate, pup," Big Brother replies with a wider grin.

"A promise is not a threat," Pup Brother retorts darkly, narrowing his eyes at him.

"Awwwww," Big Brother coos adoringly. Pup Brother hisses at him.

He seems grouchy, so Jason hugs him. Pup Brother bristles. Jason should probably hug him harder, he figures, and does.

“Todd!” Pup Brother sputters. Loud Sister and Little Brother start laughing, and New Brother muffles a snicker. Jason wonders what’s so funny, but it’s more important to hug Pup Brother and scent him with safe-safe-safe. Big Brother and his mate can handle whatever the others are distracted by, he figures. Or Quiet Sister or Grandpa. Or just whoever isn’t busy, he guesses.

He should get Pup Brother another jaffa cake, he decides, and drags him back over to the cookies.

“Todd!” Pup Brother squawks indignantly, attempting to escape his grip. He doesn’t use any nerve strikes, though, so Jason figures he’s not that serious about it and just sits him down on the edge of the nest and pushes another jaffa cake on him. Or two.

. . . maybe three. Three might be better.

“Oh my god, I would kill for my camera right now,” Little Brother says, still laughing. Pup Brother growls at him. Jason nuzzles him, then grooms his hair a little as he fusses him into eating the jaffa cakes.

“Should we call Kori and Roy?” Big Brother’s mate asks. “They can’t possibly know he’s pregnant and not either be here.”

“I mean, you’re assuming Jason didn’t deliberately ditch them, but point,” Big Brother says, his expression turning considering. “Or that he’d have told them he was pregnant. Especially since they’re not mated yet.”

“They’ll mate me when I let ‘em,” Jason huffs, grooming Pup Brother some more and then pushing him down into the nest to tuck him in. Pup Brother doesn’t flail, but he stiffens a little, so Jason scents him some more. safe-safe nest-safe-nest

Pup Brother doesn’t relax, exactly, but warily untenses, at least.

“Todd, this is your nest,” he says with a frown. “Why am I in it?”

“I want you in it,” Jason hums, rubbing his wrists along Pup Brother’s throat with more safe-safe-safe. Pup Brother wrinkles his nose, looking bewildered.

Dumb kid. Why else?

“That is the least convincing possible answer you could have provided me,” Pup Brother accuses. Jason rolls his eyes, then leans down to nuzzle his hair and scruffs the back of his neck lightly. Pup Brother stiffens instead of melting, but it’s Pup Brother, so Jason isn’t surprised by that fact and just nuzzles him again before looking towards Quiet Sister instead. The nest’s good enough now, he thinks.

“You too,” he says, jerking his head towards it. Quiet Sister’s eyes widen in surprise, and then her face splits into a warm, delighted smile.

Thank you, she signs before slipping into the living room and approaching the nest. She stops outside it to bow in a formal, unpracticed request. Jason spares a moment to hate her asshole sire, then reaches up and grabs her to pull her down into it. She lets him, which makes him feel a little better about things, and lets him settle her into the curved side of the nest. She beams at him, reaching up to brush sister-scent along his throat from her wrists, and he stops to nuzzle into them. It’s nice, so obviously he does. And it makes it easier for her to scent him, too.

“Holy shit,” Loud Sister mutters under her breath. Jason doesn’t know why.

He nuzzles into Quiet Sister’s wrists one last time, then turns to scoop Pup Brother into his arms and pull him down onto their sides. He cuddles them together, wrapping himself around him and leaving Quiet Sister space to spoon up behind him. Them. Whichever. Pup Brother makes an indignant noise and Jason hushes him with a humming purr and nuzzles safe-pup good-pup good-good-pup into his hair. Pup Brother makes an outraged noise this time, and Little Brother and Loud Sister both laugh. Pup Brother growls at them and reaches for a knife, and Jason hums another purr into his hair. He lets Pup Brother throw the knife at them, since they don’t need knives in the nest. Not while Grandpa and Big Brother are here, anyway. It’s safe, with both of them here.

. . . and Alpha will be home soon too.

Little Brother and Loud Sister dodge Pup Brother’s knife, still laughing. Jason just buries his face in his hair again and squeezes his arms around him tighter with another purr. Pup Brother hisses, but relaxes. Slightly.

Well, doesn’t go for another knife, anyway.

Same difference.

“This is undignified, Todd,” Pup Brother growls. Jason doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so just ignores it to cuddle him some more, petting more good-pup safe-pup scent onto him. What’s “dignified” matter, anyway? They’re in the pack den. They don’t have to worry about things like that here.

Even if Grandpa always does himself. But that’s just Grandpa, anyway.

“I don’t think he cares, Dami,” Big Brother says, sounding amused. “Can everyone else come into the living room too, Little Wing, or do you want your space?”

“Come in,” Jason hums easily. Obviously they should all come in. Why wouldn’t they?

Grandpa gives a soft hitched sigh, and Big Brother lets out a choked little laugh.

“Cool,” he says. “Yeah, that’s–okay. Yeah. Thanks, Jason.”

“Just get ‘em all in here and quit fuckin’ loitering,” Jason snorts, then nuzzles Pup Brother again, who gives an aggrieved sigh but still doesn’t stab anyone. So that’s fine, Jason figures, and scents good-good-pup into his hair again.

“Absolutely undignified,” Pup Brother mutters sullenly as the rest of the pack slips quiet and careful into the room. New Brother and Loud Sister take the couch. Little Brother tries to follow them, like an idiot, and Jason growls.

“Not there,” he snaps irritably, baring his teeth. Stupid Little Brother.

“Uh,” Little Brother says. “You don’t want, uh, me in here?” His scent flickers with restless self-consciousness, and Jason growls again. Idiot.

He sits up just enough to glower his exasperation at Little Brother, then leans over and snakes out an arm to grab his ankle and yank. Little Brother goes down with a yelp, and Jason drags him over to the side of the nest and pulls him in against it. Not inside it, obviously, but against it. He snatches Little Brother’s laptop off him to make sure he stays, then unfolds it and sets it up on the edge of the nest facing out towards Little Brother. He also glowers at him again, just to make the point.

“There,” he says, still annoyed but mostly satisfied. “Sit. Stay.”

“Um,” Little Brother says. “Right . . . here?”

Jason gives him a withering look, then lays back down between Pup Brother and Quiet Sister and curls up around Pup Brother, who huffs over it. Quiet Sister rumbles softly, then presses up against his back. Jason feels . . . settled, maybe. Quiet Sister won’t let anything happen either. They’re safe here.

All of them.

“Am I flattered that he just set up a workstation for me on the edge of his nest or insulted that he wants me on the floor?” Little Brother wonders. Loud Sister laughs and he flips her off, but settles properly into his seat anyway and adjusts the tilt of his screen. Jason growls again on principle, then spares Big Brother a suspicious glance to make sure he sits where he should. Big Brother lets out a shaky laugh of his own, but sits down cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the nest.

Good, Jason thinks in satisfaction.

Grandpa sits in the armchair by the doorway, unfortunately, but it's Grandpa, so Jason allows it. And Big Brother's mate wheels over and parks her chair behind Big Brother. That's fine, Jason decides, then relaxes almost as fully as he can.

As fully as he can without Alpha around, anyway.

Alpha should hurry up and get here. Jason needs to present his pup to him already.

It's . . . different from the last time he was waiting on Alpha, he thinks vaguely. Then he just–doesn't think about that anymore. But it is different.

Alpha's actually coming this time, so it's different.

Jason tightens his grip on Pup Brother and Quiet Sister tightens her grip on him. He can smell the whole pack's scents–smell the whole pack's packscent–and he feels . . . good about that. He likes that.

He missed them. He shouldn't have stayed gone so long. Though now there's a pup, and maybe even more than one, so he supposes it was worth it.

And either way, he's home now.

Grandpa said.

“ETA on B?” Big Brother asks.

“Eighteen minutes, if they avoided the downtown traffic,” Big Brother’s mate says. Jason hums acknowledgment, then lets himself relax just a little more. More than he even thought he could, really.

It's nice.

It's really nice.

And they're all safe, too.

“Holy crap, is he purring?” New Brother mutters under his breath.

“He is definitely purring,” Loud Sister confirms. “Like a big grumpy motorcycle.”

“Pretty sure I've heard quieter motorcycles,” Big Brother's mate says wryly. “It's pretty cute, though.”

“It is so cute, oh my god,” Big Brother says in despairing delight. “This is bad enough, how are we gonna handle him being like this with an actual baby?”

“I think that's mostly a ‘you’ problem, Dick,” Little Brother says.

“That is definitely a ‘you’ problem,” Loud Sister agrees.

“For sure,” New Brother says.

“Very cute,” Quiet Sister hums, nuzzling the back of Jason’s neck and patting his shoulder. “Baby brother.”

“Thank you, Cass,” Big Brother says with a huff, folding his arms. “This is so adorable I can’t even stand it.”

Jason huffs, rolling his eyes, then just settles in and closes them. It’s safe to. And he has a nest to let his scent seep into and through, and “bred” pheromones to let settle into and fill up the den. He’s early enough along that it’ll probably take a little while, so it’s past time to concentrate on putting those off and scenting the room. The nest’s all made, and Pup Brother and Quiet Sister are in it, and Grandpa’s by the door and Big Brother and Little Brother are just outside the nest, and Loud Sister and New Brother and Big Brother’s mate are all here too, so . . .

So once Alpha’s here, then everything will be perfect.

“He’s purring again,” New Brother mutters. “I literally did not even know he was physically capable of making that sound.”

“Capable of making it to motorcycle-shaming levels, apparently,” Loud Sister says with a laugh. “Damn, Jason.”

Jason doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but he isn’t worried about it. If it’s important, someone will take care of it.

Everyone’s here, so of course someone will.

“Silence, all of you,” Pup Brother grumbles, sounding long-suffering but staying settled secure in Jason’s arms, which is good. Definitely. He should be there right now.

Jason nuzzles him some more, for obvious reasons, and then just concentrates on letting his pheromones spread through the room. His nest already smells like the pack and so does the den, obviously, but it doesn’t smell like pup-is-coming.

It needs to, obviously.

Someone’s purring. It’s not Pup Brother, but Jason’s not sure who else could be.

Well, it doesn’t matter, really.

Some of the others talk about some things, their voices soft and quiet. Jason doesn’t worry about it. It’s just little stuff, like patrol schedules and classes and appointments. Normal little things for a pack to talk about, and easy to settle into the background as white noise while he lets his pheromones fill up the room and makes sure Pup Brother’s eaten.

He eats some of the apple slices and peanut butter, himself. The pup needs to eat too.

It’s the same cheap, shitty store brand that he used to insist on as a pup himself.

“ETA five minutes,” Big Brother’s mate says eventually, looking at her phone. Jason’s not sure what she’s talking about, but isn’t worried about that either. If it’s important, someone will tell him. Or handle it. Or both.

All he has to do right now is wait for Alpha to get here, and then everything will be fine.

Everything will be perfect, actually, once Alpha gets here.

The others talk a little more. Their voices are still soft and quiet, so Jason still doesn’t worry about it. He just stays curled up around Pup Brother and in Quiet Sister’s arms, letting his pheromones fill up the den with bred and home-safe and all the usual things that are usually part of presenting a pup to the pack.

It’s nice. The . . . being here. It’s nice. He missed it here.

He wonders why he missed it so bad. Has it been that long, or . . . ?

He just missed it, he guesses.

But now he’s here, so he doesn’t have to miss it anymore.

Grandpa turns his head towards the door and pushes himself up out of his chair. Jason whines in distress. Is he leaving? Why’s he leaving?

“I’ll just be a moment, my boy,” Grandpa assures him, and Jason settles, a little. If Grandpa says he’ll be just a moment, then he means it.

Grandpa steps out into the foyer again and everyone else goes quiet all at once, and Jason realizes–oh. The front door just opened, didn’t it. He doesn’t hear footsteps, though.

. . . does that mean . . . ?

“Alfred?” Alpha says from the foyer, sounding just barely concerned, and something in Jason vibrates at the sound of his voice. “What’s going on?”

“Is someone purring?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously.

“Master Jason came home, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says.

“. . . he what?” Alpha says, his voice sounding–strange, just a bit. Jason isn’t sure why it does, but feels . . .

“Just–the living room, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says. “You should come and see for yourself.”

Grandpa steps back into view of the doorway, and Jason still feels unsettled and just a little bit uncertain, and isn’t sure if–

Then Alpha steps into view too, Alpha’s mate right behind him, and Jason forgets everything else and purrs.

Alpha’s home. Alpha came this time. Alpha came for him this time.

That’s all he ever wanted him to do.

Alpha stares. He looks around the room just briefly, because it’s Alpha so of course he does–but then he stares.

“Jason?” he says, and Jason purrs louder.

Alpha came.

“He’s, you know–definitely feral-brained right now, obviously,” Little Brother says, gesturing sheepishly. Jason wonders who he’s talking about, idly, but isn’t really worried about it. “Kinda just showed up and let himself in, and then, uh . . . well, he’s, uh, presented to Alfred and Dick so far and was teaching Damian how to nest, so . . .”

“He did?” Alpha’s voice sounds a little–choked, maybe. Jason wonders why.

He’s still over in the doorway, for some reason. Jason wonders why that’s a thing too.

Alpha should know he’s allowed in the room, after all.

“Alpha,” he hums, loosening his grip on Pup Brother just enough to half-reach for Alpha. What’s taking him so long over there, anyway?

It’s dumb.

“Jaylad,” Alpha says tightly, half-taking a step forward and then–stopping, for some reason, just outside the doorway. Gripping one side of it, but not coming through it.

Dumb, Jason thinks, and furrows his brow impatiently.

“Alpha,” he insists, smacking the side of the nest once.

Really, really dumb.

“He accepted clothes with your scent, so . . .” Big Brother trails off.

“And a blanket with it, as well,” Grandpa puts in. “He used it on a foundational layer of the nest.”

“Ah,” Alpha says roughly, tightening his grip on the doorframe.

“Don’t hover, Father, Todd clearly expects your presence,” Pup Brother says in exasperation, which is much more useful. Jason purrs appreciatively and nuzzles him, and Pup Brother sighs in aggravation, but doesn’t try to squirm away or anything.

Good, Jason thinks, and nuzzles him harder.

Pup Brother rolls his eyes and sighs.

Alpha finally steps into the room, which is a start. Jason reaches towards him again with another, deeper purr.

Alpha . . . swallows, visibly, and then comes over to the nest; kneels down outside it beside Big Brother.

Close enough, Jason figures lazily, and catches Alpha’s wrist to drag his hand to his own stomach. He’s not wearing body armor, but it’s fine. It’s Alpha.

It’s . . .

“Present, Dad,” he hums, letting his eyes close again. Alpha makes a very tight noise, and his hand presses in very, very gently against Jason’s stomach.

And the pup, obviously.

“Jaylad,” Alpha says, cracked and hoarse. Jason hums back contentedly, squeezing Alpha’s wrist once.

Good. That’s everybody, then.

Good, yeah.

“Who’s the sire?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She hasn’t come in yet. Jason should probably tell her it’s fine, but he’s a little . . . distracted, maybe. Distracted. Yeah.

Mmm.

“He says either Kori or Roy, so we’re not technically sure, but the suspect list is pretty short,” Big Brother says, and Alpha’s mate laughs.

“Could be both,” she points out teasingly. “Think you could handle double grandkittens, Bruce?”

“More concerned about the risk of having Oliver Queen for an in-law, thanks,” Alpha says dryly, letting out a rough little noise that isn’t quite a laugh and curling his fingers gently against Jason’s stomach. His eyes are kind of shiny, Jason notes when his own half-open again for a moment. It’s . . . weird, a little.

The shiny, he means, though he’s not really sure why.

“Jason might’ve mentioned that they both offered to mate him, so yeah, that is in fact a concern,” Big Brother confirms with a laugh of his own. “But pretty sure Kori and Roy don’t know about the pup yet. Even if he managed to slip ‘em, there’s no way I wouldn’t have heard from either of them by now if they were trying to find him while they knew he was bred.”

Jason huffs, because what does Big Brother mean “managed” to slip them? He could absolutely lose them whenever and wherever he felt like it. And anyway, he texted them earlier. So it’s not like they don’t know where he is.

. . . or didn’t extrapolate where he is, anyway. But whatever, same difference.

“Ah,” Alpha says again, and swallows again too. Jason rolls his head back enough to peer up at him a little closer, not really sure what’s going on with him. Hm.

Well. He’s here. That’s all that really matters, really.

Except . . .

“Alpha?” he says again, not sure if . . . Alpha hasn’t taken his hand off his stomach, but he doesn’t seem–happy, really. Or pleased. Or . . . anything like that. Jason’s not . . . sure, exactly.

Alpha’s hand presses in a little firmer against Jason’s stomach. Not too firm–not too much. But like . . . comfortably firm. If that makes sense, or whatever.

It feels nice, and Jason relaxes a little. Okay. That’s–better, he thinks. Right?

Alpha’s here, so . . . it’s better, yeah.

And it means he’s doing alright. He’s being a good omega. He brought home a good pup to present to the pack–good pups, maybe, if he’s lucky. Alpha will like that, right? If it’s more than one pup?

Any pup would be good, he thinks. Kori and Roy are both good sires. Lian’s great, for one. And Roy and Kori are great too. Just–definitely, yes. They’re gonna be such a good pup.

Even with–him in them, they’ll be a good pup.

He thinks so, anyway. They’ll have . . . better things than he did. They’ll be safer.

Won’t ever end up alone in an alley without a pack or alone on a warehouse floor with no backup coming.

Won’t ever doubt who actually loves them.

Alpha makes a strange, choked noise. Jason doesn’t know why, really. Someone’s purring really loud, but he doesn’t know who it is. Not Pup Brother, and there aren’t any other omegas in the pack, so . . .

Hm. Weird, yeah.

Well, everyone’s here, so he’s not worried about it anyway. He’s being a good omega, and he brought his pup home to present. Grandpa and Big Brother were happy about it, and everybody else is here and settled in and safe. That’s all that matters, really.

As long as Alpha’s happy about the pup too, anyway. And Alpha’s hand is still on his stomach, and Alpha’s still next to the nest, so . . . yeah. That means he is, right?

So it’s good. Yeah.

The purring gets louder. Jason nuzzles Pup Brother’s hair and melts under Alpha’s hand and in Quiet Sister’s arms.

It’s definitely good.

Nice.

“Jason,” Alpha says tightly, and Jason cracks an eye open to look at him again. He doesn’t really remember when he closed them, but it’s not really important or anything.

Alpha has a hand half-over his face, and his head’s ducked down. Jason blinks sleepily, tilting his own head to peer up at him again, but can’t really see his expression. He squeezes the hand he has around Alpha’s wrist; a little bit absent, a little bit like a reflex. He missed Alpha so much.

The purring’s gotten really loud.

“You’re home,” Alpha says.

Jason wonders why Alpha says it like that. Like it’s a surprise or something.

Like he’d ever bring his pup anywhere else.

“Yeah,” he hums anyway, because he is home, and lets himself finally, finally fully relax into the nest. Quiet Sister makes a soft, acknowledging sound and winds her arms tighter around him, and Alpha's hand stays resting on his stomach. Pup Brother grumbles some disparaging things in Arabic, but settles in his arms.

The purring is really loud now, but Jason doesn't mind.

“Selina, please call Harley and Ivy,” Alpha says. “I need a favor tonight.”

“What favor?” Alpha's mate asks curiously, though Jason can already hear the little rustle of her pulling her phone out of her pocket.

“Them answering the Batsignal if anyone hits it,” Alpha says. “Kate's out of town ‘til Friday and Gotham can handle them for one night.”

“I really don't think it can, but alright,” Alpha's mate says, sounding amused.

“Can survive them for one night, at least,” Alpha amends. “And if the Justice League needs anything from me in the next ten to twelve hours, well, that's their problem to solve. I’m not going out tonight.”

Jason, idly, wonders why Alpha’s staying in, but it's nice to hear anyway. If Alpha's gonna be home for that long, well . . .

He can sleep a lot better, if Alpha's gonna be here.

That’s good, because the pup needs him to sleep.

So he tunes out the pack’s quiet voices as they all keep talking, and he sleeps.

Jason wakes up to pale early-morning light in a disoriented snap of sudden adrenaline and clocks: soft surface. Sleeping bodies. Someone on either side of him and other presences close by and a room that smells like–

Fuck, did he drunk-dial the Bat pack?

Fuck.

Even Tim’s asleep on the edge of the nest that Jason is inexplicably in. Like, all curled up and hugging his laptop like a teddy bear, but definitely asleep. And Dick’s on the other side of the thing, and that’s Cass pressed up against his back and–is Damian hugging him? In his sleep? Without a visible knife in hand?!

Jason might’ve fallen into an alternate reality again. Fallen very, very far into an alternate reality.

At least hopefully, anyway, because if this is his reality, he’s gonna have to deal with whatever the fuck happened last night, and whoever even built this nest that smells like the whole damn Wayne pack and slopes like–like Catherine’s always used to, like . . . like his mom’s always . . .

Fuck. This is his nest, isn’t it. This is exactly how he builds the damn things every time he fucks up enough to go feral. And he definitely went feral, because he doesn’t remember a thing about last night after accidentally ending up at the manor like an idiot, except–wait, no, shit, now he is remembering things about last night, and they’re all fucking mortifying.

Fuck.

Jason needs to get out of here. He has no idea why anybody humored him taking over the living room like he thought he–like he actually–

He needs to get out of here, because the moment somebody wakes up and tells him he needs to leave or, worse, pities him enough to not tell him he needs to leave, he’s gonna lose his entire damn mind. If he just–

Cass’s fingers flex against his chest, very briefly, and he nearly panics.

Of fucking course he couldn’t wake up in Cass’s arms unnoticed.

“Jason,” she says quietly, and then Jason is officially fucked, because nobody in this room is gonna sleep through someone actually speaking.

Why the hell couldn’t she at least have signed it? Why the hell couldn’t–

And then he registers that Bruce is in the room.

Everyone else wakes up at the sound of Cass’s voice saying his name at the exact same moment that Jason freezes at recognizing Bruce’s scent.

Bruce’s–Bruce’s . . . sire scent. Not on him, but . . . but still here. Still in the room.

Jason hasn’t been this close to Bruce’s sire scent since–

He’s not going to think about that.

He’s definitely not going to think about that. Not ever. Not for anything. Not–

( he’d scrubbed it off so ANGRILY, that last time; so angry and betrayed and–

he’d regretted that, on the warehouse floor. he wouldn’t have been able to smell it through the scent blockers in Robin’s suit anyway, couldn’t have stripped them off while all tied-up and bleeding out, WOULDN’T have stripped them off with any chance of that fucking bastard clown coming back, but–but–

but he’d regretted– )

Jason isn’t thinking about that.

Bruce sits up along the sloped side of his nest, just outside it. Or–almost outside it. Almost.

Bruce has an arm extended half-into Jason’s nest, which was deliberate, obviously. Bruce never does a damn fucking thing that isn’t deliberate. Not ever.

Not a thing, Jason thinks, remembering everything every single awful bastard in Gotham ever survived and the batarang scar on his own neck.

But Jason can’t even hate the asshole for reaching into his nest uninvited like that; can’t even curse him out or shove him out. He can’t, because–because he’s the one with his fingers hooked into the cuff of Bruce’s rolled-up sleeve with the hand of the arm he has draped over Damian. He’s the one holding onto him.

So it’s not Bruce who was deliberate about this. It was Jason’s own stupid, stupid feral-brained stupid self, who thought–who thinks–

Who always thinks–

Bruce isn’t his pack alpha. Bruce isn’t his sire.

Bruce isn’t his fucking dad.

Bruce’s arm is in his nest, laid down the sloped side of it, and he smells the most like home that anyone’s smelled to him since his mom died in a nest built just like this one.

#jason todd #red hood #batfamily #joyfire #wip: jason goes home #omegaverse #a1rc0n

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ask-captain-anya · 3 months ago

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Welcome to the Tired Captain Club!

[blog in chronological order]

Hey everybody! This is an ask blog for Captain Anya from the Roleswap AU by @omagpies (not the mod, still my boss)

Sister blog to @ask-nurse-curly

Everything in character is tagged #captainsays Everything by a mod is #modsays

The blog operates on a queue, but sometimes some things will be shuffled.

[roleswap au masterpost with all the art]

{The Cockpit Playlist}

Anya has a lot of responsibilities on this ship, a lot of decisions to be made. But her phone just keeps buzzing and was not immune to the tantalizing call of a text message, even if she didn't recognize the number. She just needs a distraction! Haha! A distraction.

General info and rules under the cut!

(Did I just copy, paste, and edit these rules? Absolutely!)

The setting is pre-crash Tulpar

The crew is as follows: Captain Anya, Co-Pilot Swansea, Mechanic Daisuke, Nurse Curly, Medical Intern Jimmy

You are communicating with Anya via her phone. Which for some reason has reception

Asks = text messages; submissions = airdropping files across the vastness of space

Regular text posts (not responses) are something between Anya's thoughts and phone notes

In ask responses, text put (in brackets like these) = Anya's asides. Sometimes tags will provide helpful context from mod :)

You cannot manifest in the Tulpar/interact with her world or other characters. Literally you all are just guys in her phone :)

You can try impersonating people Anya knows (crew mates, parents, friends etc), but she is liable to realise that you aren’t them :)

At the same time, you are absolutely welcome to bring in OCs; if your OC shares some kind of backstory with Curly, we can either improv it or workshop a little. (I should have dms on for this blog)

You can try telling Anya that she is fictional but she will not believe you. Any media pertaining to canon mouthwashing+roleswap's 'canon' (playthroughs, art from the masterpost etc) will appear as corrupted and illegible

All information Anya reveals is compliant to the Roleswap AU, but the ask blog itself is not

* UPDATE: as of Feb 16th 2024, the plot is diverging from canon roleswap :)

Anya is a Russian woman; mod, however, is a silly little english speaker. If Anya says something weird, assume that Curly's english ways are rubbing off on her. Also her mind has a billion thoughts to sort through.

Bullying/ribbing is fine, sexual jokes are fine (she isn't easily flustered), but mod reserves the right to play it by ear and not respond IC to something they find uncomfortable

Sometimes Anya will signal that you are crossing a boundary. Anya’s boundaries don’t equal mod’s boundaries, so if you want to keep pushing go ahead :)

Have fun and be yourself!!!

#modsays

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ducktracy · 2 months ago

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Me and my sister watched TDTEBU in the theater based on your recommendation! She's a really good artist and I showed her your analysis of The Dover Boys and she loved it, she literally said while we were driving to the theater "well if that person thinks this is good, i gotta trust them." Was already curious about the movie but knowing you enjoyed it made me a lot more willing to give it a chance. Tl;dr: We loved the film!!! And I am growing a hyperfixation on Looney Tunes. Do you have any specific recommendations for someone wanting to expand their knowledge?

HI ANON!! OH MY GOODNESS, i can't tell you how flattered and overjoyed and just... genuinely HONORED to hear this!! this almost makes me emotional to read!! 🥲💛💛💛💛 hugest of thanks to your sister for saying something so kind, and thanks to YOU for showing her my analysis and heeding my word!! i'm SO glad you guys enjoyed it!! absolute best news i could hear!

AND YOU HAVE COME TO THE EXACT RIGHT PERSON! DO I EVER! i'm going to throw a lot of stuff at you that may seem overwhelming at first, so PLEASE don't be! it's just to give you a lot of options. there's no right or wrong way to enjoy the series, and i know it's intimidating to get into, especially since there's not really a right way TO do that. but i'm just gonna tell ya what worked for me.

first thing's first, some friends and i in an animation server made a "30....+1 Essential Looney Tunes" list, inspired by going back and forth and asking for everyone's opinion. THIS IS ENTIRELY SUBJECTIVE. there may be some shorts on here that make you go "why is that on here?" (which truthfully i feel about a few choices here too HAHA, but, if it at all helps, i enjoy every single cartoon listed.) this isn't an end-all be-all list, i'm sure people reading this are like "i'd nominate ______ instead!", but it's a starting point. these are listed chronologically, but you can watch in whichever order you like. i'm personally noting shorts that i ESPECIALLY love with a *, if that's any sort of additional help, too! bolded shorts are top of the crop shorts, included in my top 5 favorite cartoons ever made. again, entirely subjective! and each short has a link to where you can view it. so, without further ado:

30+1 ESSENTIAL LOONEY TUNES

Page Miss Glory (1936)

Porky in Wackyland (1938)*

Daffy Duck in Hollywood (1938)

You Ought to Be in Pictures (1940)*

Tortoise Beats Hare (1941)

The Dover Boys at Pimento University (1942)*

Porky Pig's Feat (1943)*

A Corny Concerto (1943)*

A Tale of Two Mice (1945)*

Nasty Quacks (1945)*

Book Revue (1946)*

Baby Bottleneck (1946)*

Kitty Kornered (1946)*

The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (1946)*

Racketeer Rabbit (1946)

Mouse Menace (1946)

The Foghorn Leghorn (1946)

The Stupor Salesman (1948)*

Long-Haired Hare (1949)*

What's Up, Doc (1950)

The Ducksters (1950)*

Canned Feud (1950)

A Bear for Punishment (1951)*

Operation Rabbit (1952)

Duck Amuck (1953)

Duck Dodgers in the 24th 1/2 Century (1953)

Stop! Look! and Hasten! (1954)

One Froggy Evening (1955)

Three Little Bops (1957)*

What's Opera, Doc (1957)

Birds Anonymous (1957)

also, if you're curious, my own top 10 LT shorts list is currently this (bold are also listed above):

The Great Piggy Bank Robbery (1946)

Baby Bottleneck (1946)

Kitty Kornered (1946)

Porky Pig’s Feat (1943)

Daffy Doodles (1946)

My Favorite Duck (1942)

Tortoise Wins by a Hare (1943)

The Stupid Cupid (1944)

Nasty Quacks (1945)

Porky’s Last Stand (1940)

now, how I got into LT is a bit more scattered, but i think is worth replicating here too, in case that's also helpful. so here was my path:

there are several convergent paths that amounted to where i am now. one of them was catching a batch of shorts on Boomerang since i had nothing else going on--this really kickstarted my interest and is truly how i got into it. i was very impressed with the animation and how fluid it was, and was impressed at how old some of the shorts were ("this came out in 1953?? that's ancient!" <- now 1953 shorts feel so new and modern to me!). loved the humor, the music, the characters--this was how i knew i wanted to get into it more.

another path was that i was looking up Scott Bradley scores on YT, who was the composer of the Tom & Jerry shorts. someone in the comments of a video mentioned Carl Stalling's work for LT, and i looked him up. came across a compilation of his scores from the Depression-era, and saw someone in the comments give a timestamp to a cue used in a short called Porky's Romance. directly go to the timestamp, am absolutely floored by how gorgeous the harmonies are, and decide to look up the short. am amazed at how old the short is, that it's in black and white, that Porky used to be actually fat (I ❤️ FAT PORKY), and was amazed at how CYNICAL the cartoon was (Porky attempts suicide because his girlfriend rejected his marriage proposal!!!!)--this was so unlike anything i had seen before that i HAD to see more. Porky's now my second favorite cartoon character of all time, and very narrowly behind Daffy for first.

BUT MY MAIN PATH WAS THIS. i knew a little bit about the LT directors before getting into the shorts, but not much. Bob Clampett was a name i wanted to look out for, and so after catching one of his shorts in the Boomerang run and being blown away, i had to see more. my main foray into LT was by watching every single Bob Clampett short chronologically. i looked up his filmography and just went from there. this is a pretty unconventional method and i don't know how much i'd recommend it to other people, but he's still my favorite cartoonist of all time and i'm a VERY loud champion of his earliest shorts that are sorely overlooked, so it did something right!

i didn't just stick to his shorts, though. i kind of "spidered" around--it was clear Porky and Daffy were becoming some of my favorite characters, so i'd see screenshots of their shorts on YouTube or people talking about them in my search for more LT stuff, go "that looks interesting," and watch it. so i had my main Clampett run of shorts, and was also sort of just splintering off and letting the winds take me where i wanted. i would recommend paying attention to the credits, and if you keep seeing a director's name pop up on the shorts you like best, look into his filmography and go from there! find what you like!

a few months into this, i decided to watch every single Porky short chronologically as well, as i was curious about his history. this, in turn, got me more interested in some of the older and undiscovered shorts, and a month or so later, i decided to watch every single cartoon chronologically, writing reviews about them as a way to incentivize me through.

obviously, my review operation got so much more complex, and it was clear i was churning them out for obligation purposes, so i just sort of went at my own pace. it took me a few years, but i have since seen all 1,000+ cartoons! this isn't something i really recommend with my full chest, because it's a LOT and there's a lot that deserves to be left in the past. but i will say that seeing every single short has vastly bolstered my understanding and knowledge and love of these cartoons and the figures behind it. i feel like i know just so much more, i can appreciate things so much more, i can appreciate them in their proper context, etc.

and this is also where i come in with the "these shorts are nearly 100 years old, and reflect the attitudes of 100 years ago" statement. i'm sure it's a given at this point, but i still do feel it necessary to warn that, yes, a lot of these cartoons are racist, misogynistic, ableist, homo/transphobic, etc, etc. i know it feels silly to say that about these shorts but i do feel responsible to say that it's out there and, unfortunately, it's not as easy as "oh, these are the racist ones, just skip them" because there's unfortunately a lot of overlap. even some of the cartoons on this list have some unfortunate moments in them, off the top of my head being Porky in Wackyland, Book Revue and Mouse Menace, but i'm certain there are more. i still think these cartoons are worth watching. but they're reflections of their time, and deserve to be treated as such. it's actually been incredibly fascinating to learn about through an anthropologist perspective, discovering where some of these stereotypes are born, how people reacted against them at the time (there was more pushback than you may have imagined--i know Chuck Jones was rather uncomfortable with the racism, though he still of course has his name attached to some pretty racist gags and shorts..) i'm not here to finger wag or anything, especially since my opinion on this means absolutely nothing at the end of the day as i'm not afflicted by these stereotypes, but i just do feel the need to mention them. i think the shorts are still very much worth watching, and it's interesting and illuminating to learn about the history of some of these prejudices. but i do just feel the need to stress that for absolute transparency. these shorts are a product of their time, which is a huge source of intrigue for me, but can also be an exceptionally heavy burden. soapboxing over!

other recommendations i'd give are @kaiserbeamz' EXCELLENT series on the history of the franchise, the videos are very well researched, and very engaging but also easy enough to watch just the same (i say that because i'm very picky with video essays and tend not to watch many because i'm either annoyed by presentation or something as unfair as the sound of someone's voice, which i know is awful.. but that's all the more reason why i recommend their videos, because they pass my test! and i'm not just saying that because i'm credited in them, thanks KB!!)

CartoonLogic is a great podcast that has many episodes dedicated to analyzing LT shorts by some of the most knowledgeable historians around. i also give a big shoutout to my buddy @baxterfilms, who's done an incredible amount of research on these films for years. subscribe to his Patreon! read his articles on Cartoon Research!

Frank Young has a brilliant blog on the history of Tex Avery's WB cartoons, which was a monumental help for my own reviews of his shorts and a resource i relied on for years.

as for book recommendations, Michael Barrier's Hollywood Cartoons book is required reading for anyone looking to get into the history of golden age cartoons in general. incredibly well researched, has plenty of interviews with the people who made these shorts, and is essentially the bible for golden age cartoons. i also recommend Keith Scott's books on the unsung heroes of voice acting in these cartoons. Jaime Weinman's book on the history of LT shorts has a more personal analysis angle that's absolutely wonderful too, and incredibly illuminating.

and, not to toot my own horn, but i will toot my own horn by linking my LT Review Blog (though it sounds like you're already aware of it!) just because it covers every single cartoon chronologically. do be mindful that the further you go back, the less elucidated the reviews get HAHA.. it's an operation that has exploded out of my hands in the best way possible. i didn't know what i was doing at all when i first started (and was writing for Tumblr, where the limits were stronger and i was much more relaxed), so there's that as well.

BUT THAT'S IT! i know that's a lot, so please don't feel too overwhelmed! there are a lot of places to start, and there's no right or wrong way TO start. but i hope this can at least give you some ideas or be a helpful resource!! thanks so much for the incredibly kind message!!

#anonymous #asks #looney tunes #the day the earth blew up #tagging so anyone else curious can use this too!#ref

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avalon-of-babylon · 1 year ago

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So while I'm waiting for the next season of Lower Decks, I've decided to watch everything in chronological order, and it's been a time so far.

I don't hate Enterprise, but at the same time, it bounces wildly between captivating and middling with aggressively forced heteroerotic moments between characters who, up to the point I'm at, have shown no intrest implied or otherwise towards each other. It is painfully 2000 "haha we don't talk about the gays" kind of straight media, which is weird given how flamboyant DS9 was just 2 years before, and Rick Berman created both shows.

If it wasn't for Shuttlepod One being some of the gayest shit in Star Trek since Garak put his hands on Bashir's shoulders, I might start getting conspiratorial. It's genuinely like they decided to shove all of season one's homoerotism into that episode, I am not joking.

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kfkr1ze · 9 days ago

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Upcoming TL plans as of May!!

Hello everyone !! With Reset ≠ Astronauts finished, I thought I'd give a little update with what I planned on translating soon !! They're listed in order of priority! I like explaining (therefore . wall of text . for TL;DR look at the bold names) (+PFP change if you haven't noticed yet hi!!)

U-40α AMAKARAKU has New Releases! This is the one I'm definitely doing after this! Actually, the same minute that Muneuji's card was announced, I was actually making the draft of the masterlist for this one already! I already have 4 chapters translated HAHA! I wanted to prioritize features over every other TL project due to their importance (and how much they make me cry) so I held off while TLing Muneuji's, but now that I'm finished, I'm definitely doing this one next! Especially with the announcement that feature and group events will be fully voiced!! I'll probably wait a littlleee bit (maybe like a week?) before I start posting these, to both give myself a teensy break and bc I have to edit the PatiBato manga with the translations and they're in. basically every chapter.

FULL VER of Yoake no Polaris ! I will prioritize this as soon as the full version drops! Similarly to Glass World, I have already translated the game ver. and I'm waiting for the full ver. to drop! I'll fix my game ver. by adding the new lyrics + proofreading with officials, and then I'll upload that! This is how I'll do every Day2 feature in the future!

Day2 voice lines! I already had all of Akuta's finished like months ago and I slowly started working on everyone else's. But, with new birthday lines that I wanted to include and holidays that keep coming up that I need to wait for, I'll probably start working on these after anni lines. Just putting these on here since technically have been working on them on and off! I'll share my plan on how I'll be doing these when I drop the masterlist for them!

Card Stories to the events I'm TLing! I decided to include these once I started on U-40α AMAKARAKU has New Releases!, but I don't have every card (broke college student. hi.), which is why I didn't include them at first. If I end up getting the cards I'm missing in the future, I'll TL them and add them to the main masterlist of each event! Birthday card stories are also on my radar, but I'm not sure when I'll get to them considering. Literally only Ushio has came home. I have 2 dia right now and Akuta hates me guys.

Day2 Novels! I wanted to do these after realizing how just how relevant to features they are! (AKA, after Kiroku's feature LOL) I wasn't planning on doing them originally since they're all translated by other people, but I thought it'd be convenient to have them in the same place if you're reading Day2 TLs from me! Hopefully I can get this started before the next Day2 feature drops!! I'm going to focus on the ones that are fully voiced / have a date that they will be voiced first and then work my way chronologically! (Meaning, Kiroku first, then Nanaki, and then whoever gets announced after that.)

Continuing Escape from S! I'm so sorry this one is taking so long!! I'm realizing that Day2 has me in study rooms working on these TLs and Ten Murakumo is making me want to slam my head into this computer, so the motivation is a little off. (This is kind of a joke, I love all 18trip charas ofc I'm just way more motivated to complete my Day2 projects than R1ze right now. I will definitely be working on this though, don't worry. I already have up to chapter 6 done, but I was going to release all the updates to this all at once so people won't have to wait for the rest of it in case I get burnt out again.) Any Day2 story that drops before I finish will take priority though. I'm so sorry for naming myself kfkr1ze and not being R1ze focused... Day2 is taking over my life in ways that my past self could never have predicted and I'm too far gone to change my blog name now.

They call me… The Preacher, of Love! is one I plan on doing when I have no other projects to do. Like Escape from S, any newer Day2 projects will likely be prioritized, but I do want to translate these one day as well. After this one, I also want to do Precious as a White Light since it's the White Day story! I'd like to do this one first since it has Nanaki and Kiroku as well as Kafka, but I plan on doing the valentines one first so you can read in order!

—✈︎

If you got this far, thank you for reading everything!!! I wanted to explain my plans after I went on a sudden break for a second! I was struggling a bit in school and had to lock in. Now I'm good (esp with Summer soon) !!! I hope this gives you the general idea of what to look forward to? Thank you all for supporting me! HAMA nice trip!

#kfkr1ze #updates

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yuzurujenn · 3 years ago

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[2022.11.01] Prologue Official Guidebook - Long Interview

"A Show That I Could Complete on My Own Was My Dream."

--Your first ice show after turning professional, "Prologue." Could you tell us about the concept of this show? The main concept is to reflect on my life up until now. It's like a declaration of my determination, to show that, "This is the life I've lived so far, and now I’m taking a step toward the next stage" or "This is how I will work hard from here on out."

--Had you been thinking about ice shows like this even before turning professional? I didn't have a specific title or theme in mind. However, even before I turned professional, it was my dream to do a show that I could do alone. I feel the strong support from the fans who really love my skating, and I wanted to create a place where people could see various genres and a wide range of expressions at once. That’s why I wanted to do it alone.

--Speaking of ice shows produced by you, there was also "Continues ~with Wings~" in April 2018. Is the concept of this show different from "Prologue"?

Yes, that's right. "Continues ~with Wings~" was a show where I wanted to express the theme that the people I respect and those from whom I have inherited various things were skating, and their will is flowing within me as well. This time, in "Prologue," I want to focus on myself and show "how my skating has been shaped." And in "Prologue," I will skate alone. I think this will make it a completely different experience from anything I've done before.

[I Want You to See Various Expressions]

--I’ve never seen a one-man ice show where only one person skates through the entire show.

I don't think there has been a show where only one person skates through the entire thing. But I believe I can skate through completely on my own. Since I'm doing it solo, the visuals and production between the programs are also very focused on 'Yuzuru Hanyu.' So, instead of feeling like 'I'm here to watch an ice show,' I think the audience will feel like 'I'm here to watch a Yuzuru Hanyu show.'"

--Does a one-man ice show mean that you'll be performing the whole time?

Haha. Honestly, while I’ve been planning this, I’ve also wondered how long my stamina will hold up. Even though I'm doing it alone, I don’t want to lower the difficulty of the programs. If I'm performing previous programs, I want to ensure the audience doesn't feel like, "Oh, this isn't what I expected." But since it's an ice show, I also had concerns that it wouldn't be engaging enough if there weren’t a certain number of programs.

While considering the balance with other factors, I’ll push myself to the limit, incorporating difficult elements as long as I can build the stamina for it. I’m working hard now to make sure that each program will be something worth watching.

--I heard that you are creating the show’s structure and setlist all by yourself. What kind of image or thoughts do you have when you create them?

The image is that the show begins with my current self. Then, I reflect on various moments from my skating life in chronological order, and in the end, I return to my current self, showing that I am moving forward from here.

I’ve also arranged the programs in a balanced way, including programs that I want the audience to remember, programs that will get them excited, and programs that will move them. As I mentioned earlier, I strongly want to show various expressions, so I’ve made sure to incorporate a variety of things in a balanced manner.

--Building the setlist must be fun, right?

It’s fun, but honestly, I’m a bit worried about whether I can really do it all. That being said, the desire to have people watch is strong, so while I’m trying to hold back a bit on my feelings of 'I want to do this, I want to do that,' I’m focusing on making sure the performance quality stays high.

And throughout the show, even during the moments when I’m not skating, I hope the audience can revisit past scenes, recall the emotions and reflect on the journey up till now... I’d be happy if you’ll watch it that way.

--By "keeping the quality high," it seems like the rink size and other factors would have an impact, right?

Yes, that's right. Compared to a competition rink (which is typically 60 meters by 30 meters), the rink for a typical ice show is quite a bit smaller. So, when performing a competitive program in an ice show, there’s a sense that the contours of the performance change a little, and the skaters might feel like 'this is a bit challenging.'

This time, I really wanted to achieve a competition-sized rink, and everyone around me worked really hard to make it happen. We've managed to secure a rink size of 55 meters by 24 meters, which is almost the same as the Ice Rink Sendai (56 meters by 26 meters). With this rink size, I believe we can properly showcase competitive programs as they are, and I also want the audience to pay attention to the production that can only be achieved on a larger rink.

--So, we'll truly be able to see "Yuzuru Hanyu as a professional athlete"!

Yes, exactly. I don’t want this to just be an "ice show." If I’m going to perform, I want to do difficult things as well. And rather than just including hard elements in the numbers of the show, I also want to showcase the know-how I’ve developed from competition, and the unique expression of competitive programs that I can only do now.

For example, even in competitive programs, I can reduce the number of crossovers or increase the difficulty of the jumps. And now, since we’re no longer bound by the competition rules, I can repeat the same jump multiple times or jumping four or more jumps in a jump combination—anything is possible. I want to incorporate these challenging elements into each program while continuing to push myself to do difficult things.

[A New Program for 'Prologue']

--Will you be performing any new programs in "Prologue"?

Yes, I will skate to a program that I choreographed entirely myself for the first time.

--Oh! What kind of program is it?

I've always really loved this song, and I've had a strong feeling of 'I want to skate to this someday.' There are many songs I want to skate to, and this is one of them. The reason I chose this song this time is because I thought it would be a bit difficult to use in competition. There’s something I’ve always wanted to express, but it’s something that could never be done in a competitive program. So, when I turned professional, I thought it would be the perfect song to skate to, and that’s why I selected it.

--What kind of program is it? Please share as much as you possibly can.

It might connect to the theme of "Prologue," but it’s a program that incorporates various things I’ve learned since I started skating, such as basic and more advanced movements. It’s very conceptual, like playing with the ice and exploring my own emotions. But I think it has turned out to be a program that will make people think, "That’s beautiful" as they watch it.

Since this is my first time choreographing, in that sense, I do feel nervous about showing it to everyone, and I also have some doubts about whether it turned out well. However, while I don’t have much confidence in myself, I do have a lot of confidence in delivering the program and skating. I would be happy if people thought, "This is a new genre of program."

--Have you finished the choreography already?

Yes, I’ve already finished it. However, since I’m choreographing it myself, I think there will be changes in the arrangements from day to day. I will keep working hard to improve it every day as I prepare for the performance.

--Was there any particular reason that made you want to try choreographing yourself?

Originally, I’ve always loved performing based on my emotions. I like creating choreography and dancing to the music. Along those lines, I’ve always wanted to express skating as a reflection of my own thoughts and feelings, something that comes from within me, someday.

However, I don’t want it to be something that is just for my own satisfaction. I want it to be something that others can appreciate too, something that will make them think, "That's beautiful" or "There’s meaning behind that." In that sense, I thought I would choreograph it in a way that stays true to my own feelings and the way I want to skate, without being self-indulgent. At the same time, I also realize that creating my own program is very risky. There’s a tendency to skate based on my own preconceived notions, so I am a bit worried about that.

But since this is an ice show where I will skate every single program from beginning to end, I think it’s a program I can show as one part of the entire show. On its own, this program might feel "a little different," but within the context of a show where I perform everything myself, I think it will stand out.

--How was the experience of choreographing this program? Was it fun, or difficult?

Well... it wasn’t exactly fun (laughs). About 50% of it was fun, but the other 50% was really tough. I had to constantly be aware of whether the movements looked beautiful when viewed from a broader perspective and whether I was able to properly convey the emotions I felt inside.

When I actually started choreographing, I realized that the movements that came from within me were very repetitive, and there were times when I thought, 'This is the only movement that comes out.' But from the choreography and steps that emerged, I also realized, 'Ah, because I did this in that program, it's easier for these kinds of movements to come out.'

Also, by realizing 'This is the only movement I can do,' I started thinking, 'I should study more.' I started writing down patterns of movements I randomly tried, thinking, 'This could be useful,' and I began incorporating them into my body, trying them out with various songs... By choreographing, I made those kinds of discoveries.

--Does that mean the program naturally reflects your inner self?"

Ah, that's true. It’s a program that really brings out my inner self. It may sound like a cliché, but I don't think it's necessary for my feelings to be conveyed 100% when people watch the performance. I think it’s fine for the audience to interpret it in various ways. I hope that something in their memory flashes back, or that they can relate it to their own anxieties and hopes for the future, or simply feel it as it is.

[I Want to Show as Much as Possible from That Time]

--In addition to your new programs, you will also be skating past programs. What do you think about when you show programs you have skated in the past?

I want to continue doing the programs that people have said they like, and I want to make them even better. That said, if possible, I want to show them exactly as they were back then, when they said they liked them. My face has changed and the way I express myself has become more refined, so I think there might be parts where people think, "This is different from what I saw back then," or "It’s changed." I'm happy that people think of that as growth, but I want to show what I was like at that time as much as possible. Even if I have to leave out parts where I think, "Now I can do this better because I’ve grown," or "I’d like to express it this way now," I have a strong desire to show the "good" that people remember from back then.

--Why is that?

I don’t want people to think, "This isn’t it." How should I put it? For example, singers' singing styles change over time, right? It’s important for them to protect their throat to continue singing. However, for people who have been listening to their CDs or records for a long time, they might feel like 'this isn’t the same voice as before.' And if too much arrangement is added to the singing style, people might feel, "I kind of like it, but… it’s just not the same." I don’t want that to happen to me. Also, since it’s my program, I really feel like it shouldn’t just be a cover. If a 27-year-old me performs a program from when I was 15 or 16, and it’s completely different, I think it would only be a cover, not the original. It's something that can only be done with my body, and I know the feeling at the time, so I want to do my best to bring it as close as possible. I really want people to think, 'Yes, this is it!'"

--Indeed, it’s incredibly satisfying when you feel, "Yes, this is it!"

I don’t want people to think, 'He has changed.' Also, I think it reflects my commitment to being able to express myself in many different ways.

--So, it's about the versatility of expression — being able to perform not only the more difficult and deeper things you can do now, but also being able to express things from a time when you hadn't yet reached that point.

Exactly.

["Yuzuru Hanyu is a skater, after all" — I want people to think that]

--That's certainly something you can't do in competition. Now that you've transitioned to being a professional, you're involved in ice shows and YouTube streaming, but what else are you thinking about?

I want people to see me while preserving my world within skating. I'm very grateful for the opportunity to take beautiful photos and for people enjoying them, but my core is skating. I want to carefully think about how to express and pursue that moving forward.

I myself am also wondering how I should interact with everyone now that I've become a pro, and how I should continue to pursue skating. I’m sure many of you are thinking about what kind of content Yuzuru Hanyu is, or how you should view me moving forward. Amid all that, I want to ensure that people will still think, "Yuzuru Hanyu is a skater, after all," as I continue forward.

--When you say "Yuzuru Hanyu is a skater, after all," what exactly does “skating” mean, and what do you want to show in that context?

When I’m skating a program, I’m completely immersed in the world I want to express, the scenery, the emotions, and everything that comes with it. I really hope to be able to bring all of that out fully. There are quite a few programs where I show the raw, real version of myself, and for those, I want to bare that part of myself completely.

On the other hand, a program like "Haru yo, Koi" is also filled with my feelings, but there are also conceptual things like struggles, reaching for spring, and cherishing something, so I want to express those elements as well. I hope that people can feel such expressions not only from skating, but from various other aspects as well.

--Is there anything that you want to do or places you want to go as "Yuzuru Hanyu as a person," rather than as a skater?

Well, there are times when I feel really suffocated. It's not like I don't feel difficult moments. Even before I turned professional, during my competitive years, there were times I struggled, felt unrewarded, and blamed myself a lot. Even now, of course, I still have a lot going on. I have some very weak parts within me, but as long as people have high expectations of me, I want to always live as ‘Yuzuru Hanyu’. If people no longer have high expectations of me, I would feel really empty.

Recently, I've been thinking a lot about this, but I started skating because I wanted to, and I've enjoyed expressing myself through it. I’ve felt joy when I was able to land jumps, and happy with the results I achieved... and it's from that journey that I’ve come to be the person I am now. Achieving results may seem very self-satisfied, but I really feel the power of all the people who are supporting me in pursuit of that selfish, self-centered dream. That is why I feel strongly that I have a responsibility to give back to those people. And if they continue to have expectations of me, I want to continue to be Yuzuru Hanyu who can fully meet those expectations.

I think people might say, "It's okay to quit if it's hard," or "It's okay to be yourself," or "If you're tired of skating, you can take a break and go somewhere." But if I do that, how should I put it, I can't forgive myself. I’ll think, "If you have time for that, you should use it for skating."

This might be called "pressure," but I think that it’s because of this pressure that I’m not an empty shell now. It’s what motivates me to keep pushing myself further. I want to live my life respecting the feelings and weight of the support I receive from everyone.

--I am at a loss for words.

For example, whether it's singers or actors, those who have consistently been at the top, they don’t change, do they? That's exactly what Mansai Nomura is like, he has remained the same throughout. Maybe when they go home or when they step into the bathroom, there are moments when they break down and cry, or times when they feel like their heart is about to break. But even so, they remain unchanged. I want to be that kind of person.

—When did you start thinking this way?

It's been about a year or two. I was really conflicted. There were long periods of time when I didn't feel like, "I love skating!" To be honest, there aren't many times in my life as an athlete when I think, "I really love skating!" There are more difficult times than not. As the moments when I felt like, 'I landed a new jump, and I won, I'm so happy,' gradually disappeared, even if I thought to myself, 'I've really improved my expression,' or 'I've gotten so much better at skating,' those feelings of 'getting better' started to feel like nothing more than self-satisfaction.

Yes, there was a time when I couldn’t feel “skating is fun, I love it.” It was before the 2020 National Championships. It was a time when I described it as “feeling like I was falling into the depths of darkness.” It was the darkest period. I really didn’t like skating, and I wondered, “Why am I even doing this?” But at the same time, I thought, “No, everyone has expectations of me, so I have to work hard after all.” There was a lot of inner conflict.

In the two years since then, I’ve thought deeply and reflected a lot. What I realise now is that the meaning of my life is almost entirely due to skating. And the reason I am skating is because I want to live up to everyone's expectations. So, moving forward, I hope I can continue to live with this sense of self-discipline.

—I completely understand what you’re saying. But, how can I put it... it feels almost transcendent...

People sometimes think, 'You must be in a lot of pain' or 'You're mentally strong,' but it's actually the opposite. I just don't want to be disliked by everyone. In that sense, I often think, “I’m really weak,” but even if I feel that way, if I can turn those emotions into expression, I want to express them. People sometimes see me as a perfect person, but if they see me that way, it's because they have high expectations of me. That’s why I feel motivated to keep doing my best.

Source: Prologue Official Guidebook, pg 12-20

#hanyu yuzuru #yuzuru hanyu #羽生結弦 #figure skater #figure skating #prologue #ice story #interview #machine #translation

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shepscapades · 1 year ago

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Have you ever thought about making a playlist for the DBHAU characters? I'd be interested in what music they all would listen to or songs that relate to them.

WAOUGH thank you for reminding me-- there's actually. okay. okay so, there's actually... (checks writing on hand) 9 DBHC playlists currently LFKGJDLKFG

The way i like to organize playlists is, as i develop a character's lore/think about them more, i tend to put/look for songs that represent moments/feelings throughout their overall story in chronological order, rather than putting things on the playlist that are like, things the character would listen to or just general vibes. So each playlist is built to kinda... take you through their whole emotional journey :3 LFKJGSDFG although!! Usually, i will try to find a song i think is a good overall representation of the vibes, story, and character! Like, a title track :>

I think the only playlist that's currently closest to it's "finished" form or version is Etho's, which i've actually been meaning to share for ages LKFKLFJG but i keep getting this feeling that I would rather write up a quick explanation for what each song represents before I post it here, so i haven't gotten around to that yet :(

Though, there's a link to the Etho playlist in my stream discord LOL so a few people have access to it haha

Just for those who are curious, the dbhc playlists I currently have are:

Etho (Finished! Or like. i would have to find a PERFECT song to fit something new into the song lineup i think)

Tango (This one's pretty close overall... there are some gaps here and there but it's pretty long right now so i need to do some trimming too)

Jimmy (a short collection of vibes i haven't really organized yet)

Ranchers (I dont know if I'll do anything fancy with this playlist yet, it's kind of where i've been dumping songs that i cant quite fit on either jimmy or tangos playlists)

Xisuma (this one just kinda happened, but it's pretty fleshed out right now, especially for s8... not anywhere near finished but i've been listening to it nonstop lately. this man is destroying me rn)

Doc (also just kinda happened. i listen to this one a lot for the bops and vibes because most of the songs on this are kinda. ahem. yknow. he's kinda.)

Bdubs (this one is also kinda short! its got like 8 or 9 songs so i haven't really been focusing on it a lot-- it's kinda where i dump songs that are either hyper-specific for something from bdubs' pov or doesn't quite fit anyone else for dbhc)

Mumbo (this one is really short (5 songs) but i really like the songs on there so far hehehe, i haven't been focusing on it too much since i haven't been thinking about him too much lately but i love the vibes :])

[REDACTED]

#dbhc ask #dbhc #ask #anon #dbhc music #NEW TAG!!!#i'm gonna go back and add that tag to the spotify wrapped stuff that's for dbhc #but yeah!! i wouold love to share the music because it portrays story beats that i cant really explain or portray any better--#but i dont really want to post songs without being able to explain what they mean first yknow? hopefully that makes sense

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clangenrising · 1 year ago

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That battle was amazing! How did you decide what everyone did during the battle? Is this all based on timeskip and patrol events that happened during Moon 15, did you use some kind of generator, or did you create all of this in your awesome writer brain? I'd love to know any behind the scenes facts you got on this incredible battle! And congrats on having your story being included in Clangen, I'm so happy for you, you really deserve it. Thank you so much for this story!

Yeah, so there is absolutely nothing in my ClanGen playthrough about rogues this month or a battle or anything. Darkmoon died of Frostbite in game but I thought it would serve the story better if I tied it in to the bigger conflict.

So yeah, I wrote it all from scratch. It had been bubbling in my head for a little while. I knew I wanted Goldenstar to lose a life or two (even though that wasn't in the save either) partially because everyone was so desperate for it haha and she ends up losing all her remaining lives at once when she eventually goes so I thought we might as well use them here instead.

Once I knew that, I had the idea for Scorch to get involved somehow and her showing up be what distracted Razor long enough for Goldie to get up and keep fighting. The rest of it mostly came from just sitting down, thinking about how the battle would go, and then writing a bullet point outline which i turned into each part of the battle over the course of i think 3 days?? there were a few things i shuffled around in order to make the chronology fit better and some things I pulled into bigger pieces.

Like I originally intended for Yarrowshade to notice Goldie was missing and go after her but then I realized through writing that his arc was about learning to take it easy so he couldn't do that. Then I added the piece with Russetfrond and made sure to get Tiger killed in it since that's important going forward too.

I'm sure there's more I could say but it's escaping me for now haha. Hope that was satisfying!

#not art #asks and answers #bigbyshaaaaaaand #Battle with Razor

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darlingpoppet · 10 months ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Spread the self-love ❤️

Thanks Jo and also to @onionjuggler for tagging me, sorry for answering so late </3 (wait since I got tagged twice should I go ahead and self-rec 5 more fics after this or is that too self-indulgent even for me??) Ah well :)

I’m not really sure what order to put these in, so I’ll just list them chronologically!

Pressed Flowers (Shingeki no Kyojin, Eruri, T)

This was the first fic I managed to get over the finish line after years of having no idea how to build a bridge to the creative writing island in my brain, and thanks to the momentum created by this one I’ve been publishing new fics regularly ever since. In a weird way this still feels like my best written fic because you know that phenomenon when you’re in the weeds developing a skill and at times you feel like you’re getting worse, in a “the more you learn, the less you know” kind of way? This was the fic where I felt the least self-conscious about my abilities so I was able to just express all the ideas I wanted to convey without thinking too hard about any of it, and idk sometimes that can be an asset to the final product (the word flow probably needs improvement though lol.) But also I’m just fond of the perfect, peaceful moment I was able to create for Eruri here.

Upon A Lazy Bed (TSOA, Patrochilles, M)

Whenever I get into a new piece of media or a new ship I really just like to stew in it for a few months, because in a way whatever you post first will be a treatise of sorts on how you view the thing… and yeah so anyway this is what I came up with after snorting pure uncut Patrochilles for the first six months of shipping it (even if Once More ending up beating it to the finish line so I guess that’s the real Patrochilles treatise, lol.) I like this one because I was able to try something new, especially because the narrative voice of TSOA was still in my head at the time so it was a fun challenge to replicate it to some degree (this is still my only 1st person pov fic to date.) I felt myself leveling up as a writer as I was working on it too, which is always a cool feeling.

Where The Dead Forget (Hades, Patrochilles, M-E)

This fic is still ongoing and even what I’ve published so far is just the iceberg tip belying all the effort and ink spilled for it for almost two years now, but I guess that’s why it’s my baby haha. Usually when I post a fic, a huge motivating factor for me is I want to hopefully add something new with my perspective and/or otherwise give myself everything I want in a story. With WTDF however my primary goal from the beginning has been taking a popular fandom trope and just simply trying to stretch my wings with long-form storytelling (because of course as expected, it has only gotten more complex and bigger in scope lol.) I think sometimes I undersell it by saying this story isn’t that original and doesn’t have any hot takes, but tbh as time has passed I’ve started to gain a perspective and an angle for it, and it has already helped launch a lot of really interesting conversations with other Patrochilles fans, so that in itself more than justifies its existence for me! The best part of a serial fic is having others going on the ride with you so I’ll always be extending the invitation to have more come along until of course I finally finish it in 2069 :)

Closest To My Heart (Hades, PZA, E)

There’s probably an undercurrent of melancholy running through a lot of my stories, considering the source materials I like working with, but this was probably the first time I got to make a story outright unsettling. I think I’ve often talked this one up as my favorite to write as well as my favorite as a finished piece so I’m almost not sure what else I can say about it but there’s just something about PZA that lights up my brain like a Christmas tree, it gives me so many wild ideas and makes me want to keep exploring these highly intense emotional states. And I love that this one was born out of those unhinged fandom group chat conversations where it’s just riffing on pure collective id until someone goes “fuck it, I’m writing this!” (And that someone in this case was me lol.)

See No ****, Hear No **** (Hades, Patrochilles, E)

I think I’m lucky that most of my own writing I personally like have also been crowd pleasers (or idk who knows maybe the reception is indeed a big factor in my estimation of quality because the in the end the “popular=good” drug is a hard habit to break, lol.) But this is definitely one I can point to and say the audience here is probably much more limited and I still think it rules :) I had a lot of fun with the concept of creating essentially two different stories out of the exact same scene because different sensory deprivations affected how each character experienced it. And also I wrote it as a gift, meaning there was that much extra love put into it! I may do a lot of serious academic reading & research about classical texts for Patrochilles but at the end of the day I was raised in the dark fandom, molded by it, and sometimes that means you just gotta turn your blorbos into holes no matter how many millennia of highfalutin academic tradition exists behind them uwu I will say though this fic probably has THE highest kudos to bookmark ratio of all my fics so I tend to think Squidward DOES like krabby patties but no worries, y’all keep your secrets ;)

Honorable Mention: I think I’m with @baejax-the-great who said your favorite story is always the one you’re currently working on, which for me means my upcoming modern au pza fic, Liminal Spaces (aka the pza dreamers au). But since it’s still unfinished and unpublished, I can’t properly recommend it, lol. Who knows how I’ll feel about it by the time it’s done but I’m having a lot of fun writing it so I hope y’all will enjoy it too <3

#emica chat #my fics #eruri #patrochilles #pza #tsoa #hades fanfic

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ipatrichor · 7 months ago

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dead boy detectives episode six thoughts

HEY. WHAT THE FUCK. normally i talk about things somewhat chronologically but i Cannot skip over this to come back to later. WHY THE FUCK DID EDWIN GET GOT?? motherfucker right when the night nurse was gonna let them stay together at least temporarily to sort it out 😭 girl get him out of there!!!!!

okay i'm taking deep breaths i'm good. it's fine im chill. im so calm and normal right now it's fine. alright time for the rest of the episode.

monty... i'm a little torn bc him getting stabbed and dismembered to be re-crowed by esther is fucked, but also (like i was afraid of!) he was an asshole about edwin not returning his feelings. so... oh well. still a shame and i feel a little bad for him, but significantly less than i would have otherwise. he's not even dead lol, he's just a bird again

the guy in the fish. kashi maybe?? i do not remember his name but he's so fun i love his vibe. i'd invite him to a party tbh, he seems like the kind of guy who's just pleasant to be around bc he's kind and just really does not stress. i love his interactions with the night nurse, he's so calm and a good contrast to her franticness 👍

SPEAKING OF THE NIGHT NURSE. i really like that she hesitated and ultimately decided not to separate them instead of digging in her heels and refusing to believe the system could make a mistake. it's the perfect culmination for her character, and tracks so well with what she believes- not in the system itself exactly, but that it exists for a reason. that the most important thing is to keep everything in order, and if the system is making mistakes that is not order!! especially with her interaction with the cool fish man getting her to pause and take a breath, i'm really happy with how her character is developing and being written she's so good

oh also!! I WAS FUCKING RIGHT IT FEELS SO GOOD HOLY SHIT. I WAS CORRECT!!! EDWIN REALLY IS IN LOVE WITH CHARLES!!!! girl that was foreshadowed and developed so well they mean So much to me!!!!! aaaahahahahaha i do not have words for how delighted this makes me but!!! know that it is so!!!!!

also wait i just realized this is so funny. edwin attempts to confess his gay love and almost immediately gets sent to hell. girl what is this supernatural?

anyway. i noticed that the bracelet broke, so hopefully when the cat king comes back they'll be able to interact on more even footing. (assuming. i mean. assuming edwin doesn't stay in hell 😭 i really hope they get him out... there are two episodes left so? exciting season finale rescue please? pretty please for me??)

speaking of which. did anyone else think it was hot when edwin, upon being faced with the cat king attempting to stop him from warning charles and crystal, went off on him and told him that the binding spell is all he is? bc that was hot! idk i just really enjoyed edwin snapping back at the cat king, who up til now has essentially held all the power in their interactions. it was immensely satisfying, bc yeah! if you were not literally magically holding him prisoner you would be nothing to him bitch!!! you need to cast a binding spell on a guy to get him to even notice you exist!!!

sorry haha i simply do not like the cat king. i enjoy his vibe and the cunt he gives off but he has fully and completely lost the battle for my respect with how he treats edwin, someone he's interested in who has rejected him. lol get disregarded idiot try a romance tactic other than weird power imbalances and coercion next time

is it just me or do these posts keep getting longer?? there is So Much this episode to talk about!! we got walrus guy backstory (fascinating!), crystal's demon ex putting her down and getting whacked with a magic cricket bat (satisfying! eat shit daniel), mushroom forest elemental extradimensional creature (scary as hell? but also it was hilarious crystal went 'hey u don't have to eat my friends u can just not' and the mushroom was like 'oh shit really? damn my bad bye' and that fucking Worked that's so funny i love it)

crystal... what do i say about crystal i love her!!!! holy shit. her losing her powers to bar her ex from her head, being afraid she's useless without them, and then reclaiming them by looking deeper within her and reconnecting with her heritage.... ough that's so good!!! i love that so much, and i love love love how far her and edwin's friendship has come. "i have come to value you" he's saying you're friends!! you're friends and he cares about you because you're friends, not because you have cool and helpful powers. motherfucker im gonna cry

and niko & jenny!! god that scene was so real. jenny's obviously bad with emotions, but it was really sweet of her to reassure niko as best she can. and yeah the librarian being murderous wasn't niko's fault, but also the situation only happened because niko went against jenny's express wishes to find her secret admirer and set up a date. so it's reasonable for jenny to not be ready to forgive her for that yet, bc that shit was absolutely traumatizing as hell and niko still played a part even if it wasn't fully her fault. but still, jenny puts that aside long enough to talk things out with niko, and i love both of them so much 😭

i thought i got this out at the start but NO. FREE MY BOY EDWIN HE DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!! let him out!!!!!!! give him back and i want him and charles to hug again!!!! and also more interactions with him and niko their friendship is very sweet!!!!! give him back to me please im devastated 😭😭😭

#pat.txt #pat watches dbd #dead boy detectives #is the demon's name daniel? idk man i can't be bothered to care he's not important to me #i'd rather learn fish guy's name he seemed cool #also. im thinking about it but. what the Fuck was that spider thing #why was it like... round? but a lot of round. like boils or some shit. awful horrifying im actually a little glad i didn't get a good look #i just know that shit's gonna be emotionally scarring 😭#LET MY BOY EDWIN OUT. I NEED TO GO WATCH THE NEXT EPISODE NOW I NEED TO KNOW HES GONNA BE OKAY

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icebrooding · 9 months ago

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A non-comprehensive first word-vomit of my thoughts abt Janthir wilds in non-chronological order:

Poky is my son and if anything happens to him I will commit Crimes of a very bad nature. I also called he and Braham would be great friends even before it got mentioned as a possibility right at the end.

I really like what they've done with the Warclaw; not only is the new skin extremely cute but I've been having so much fun w/ it's skills. Boing boing boing.

This soundtrack fucks REALLY hard??? Like holy shit??

Isgarren soft boy story reveal (but I already knew he was soft from SotO anyway but this is probably the most explicit we've had about just how soft--)

Greer is gonna have a lot of people horny for him, I can just kinda feel it? If people want to fuck the bog queen, I can imagine people also want to fuck the sexy-voiced Titan.

The 'boss segments' sure felt like boss segments, holy shit. I had no real issues on the first Greer and Decima fights but the one at the end actually caused me a lot of issues. Not sure how, but it did.

I really love the first half of the expac being this kind of 'low stakes' feeling adventure (and really FEELING like a good adventure, the way the maps are designed and their scale making exploring them SO good ouegh), and then the latter half is this slowly ramping 'oh fuck, Titans', culminating in 'oh fuck. /another/ titan.'

I somehow REALLY really appreciate the 'we cannot do this we need to retreat' stuff. I really liked the one at the end, the Commander's hesitance before calling off the pursuit. Feels like they've really learned over the years that rushing in isn't in their (or anyone's) best interest.

I genuinely always thought Sorrow was gonna be a polar bear. Did not expect a grizzly, but appreciate the subversion of my expectations. Even after her reveal I'd expected the lowland appearance to be an illusion of some kind, but nah. Girl straight up grizzly. Gotta respect.

On that note, I did have a joke going on for a few months of 'we walk into the lowland kodan lands and just find her sitting amongst them like 'oh shit'' so this was pleasant for me lmao.

Sincerely curious on how things will go between her and Isgarren after that little catfight. I don't wanna see Dagda crushed by losing her again :sadcat: She's like the kid caught between a really bad divorce--

Can Lyhr finally meet Rand again--

Can Stoic Alder be my new dad? And can he please not die I cannot bear (HAH) if anything happens to him either ; _ ;

where is zojja

Mildly upset that we're shown not to really remember Dagonet. I REMEMBER YOU, BIG BRO :crycat:

on that note did his voice get deeper

I feel like the horror of the White Mantle came across really strongly, as someone who (still, damnit) hasn't gone far in GW1, reading the notes around Syntri really painted a really gruesome and horrific image of the sentiments at the time... it was upsetting, to say the least.

Fuck? Ether towers and Jade Constructs though--

I would have appreciated any warning from my friend abt how going into the water of Syntri was like reliving my least favourite parts of Subnautica all over again.

I'm just gonna pretend we didn't talk to Anise at the end of the story LMFAO. I did not like that, honestly.

I KNOW HE WAS MENTIONED AGES BEFORE BUT ISN'T IT FUNNY HAHA IN SOME WAY THAT MABON, VOICED BY LIAM O'BRIEN, HAS AN ALIAS FUCKIN' NAMED "OBRYN"

spear aesthetic fucks even if i suck at it

Caithe getting to sit on the fireplace is iconic. queen behaviour

look, if we're (MAYBE) going to the domain of anguish (maybe isgarren can scream enough to open a portal again for us) then can we finally just bring legavo there and go ham? i'm sure it'll be fine.

more thoughts at another point when i can formulate sentences

#text #jw spoilers

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telatire · 29 days ago

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7, 46, 72 for the ask game!

Thank you so much for the ask!

7. How do you choose which POV to write from?

A deceptively simple question... yet one I find difficulty in answering beyond... "vibes"? To be plain, I do not write multiple perspectives in my fic very often, as they are often (in my opinion anyways haha, in this regard at least) too short for it. Longer works - like the one I am working on now, and the other which I have yet... to replan.... (Yes, I am dragging my feet on this, I apologize) will have multiple POV, because they are long enough to justify it. Otherwise... I like writing in a limited perspective, with just one voice and just one head; it makes character exploration easier, and sometimes, some plot things a little easier too, since the character only knows as much as they are shown/told. They can assume, but those assumptions can easily be wrong or changed or turned up on their head! So, besides The Vibes (tm)... um.... the... smaller vibes? Essentially, when I decide to draft up a story, the POV is chosen from conception as well, and that POV is chosen by what kind of story I aim to tell/what feels right/what makes the most sense. Both longform fics will say, have both Miquella and Malenia's POV, but for the one I have an actual chapter one, it will primarily be Miquella, because the story primarily follows him; for the other, time will mostly be spilt as evenly as I can. Man, I would have written killer essays in college, haha. (side note: I like to use third person when writing, because first person (I) feels much too personal, and while i like second person (you), it is very um... Homestucky, I suppose, haha. It only really works for me in specific circumstances.) 46. How would you describe your style? (Character/emotion/action-driven, etc) Beyond extremely ramble? Haha. Character-driven/focused, with a lot of emotion heaped on top. As much as I envy writers who can do action scenes very well, I am, at heart, a hopeless romantic in love with humanity itself; I tell stories about people, as a friend has described me, so I am best when I am exploring the head of someone, and letting their actions/emotion drive the plot forward. I do hope it is interesting! Haha. 72. What order do you write in? Front of book to back? Chronological? Favorite scenes first? Something else? Painfully, from the top to the bottom; front of book to back; chronologically. There are many times where I have struggled with a scene, and been given the advice to just switch scenes, write the end first, if it makes easier, focus on something else. But alas, I am as stubborn as a mule, and because I tend to repeat + callback a lot, it is far easier to do if the past has been... say... written first, haha. Yes, yes. I make things difficult for myself on purpose. No one who knows me well is surprised. Haha.

#telasks #thank you again!#sorry for the ramble on the POV #similar questions can just be answered as such tbh #“i do it this way because it feels right to me”#i don't really do a lot of active conscious thinking nowadays

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lulu2992 · 2 years ago

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hi! i hope you don't mind me asking you this, but i feel like you're the most reliable source for this, haha. i saw that you answered an ask about john, explaining what to keep in mind when writing him, and i was wondering if you could do the same thing with jacob? as in, what characteristics to keep in mind when writing him and all !! i would seriously appreciate it a lot!! i wish you all the best and thank you for everything you're sharing with the fandom <3

Hi! And thank you very much for your kind words :)

As I did in the post about John (here, for anyone who is interested), I’m first going to give you a few links and facts about the Soldier! By the way, “the Soldier”, unlike “the Father” and “the Baptist”, isn’t Jacob’s official title in the cult, it’s just how he was called in promotional material (and by Dutch).

You must have played Far Cry 5 and seen the cutscenes already, but I’m still going to summarize his backstory and beliefs to try to write a comprehensive post. And in case you’ve missed them or want to listen to them again, here are:

His radio calls in chronological order (here, here, here, here, and here)

His sermons (part 1 and part 2)

The comments he makes during the trials

The audio of his two videos (“I own you”, broadcasted inside the Stone Ridge chalet, and the one with Pratt)

The message on the phone in the Stone Ridge Chalet

What he says during the final fight against him (here and here)

His Arcade lines

Finally, even though they were cut, you can find his unreleased lines here.

I wrote a summary of what other characters say about Jacob here (masterpost here), but you can listen to the NPCs’ comments here (cultists) and here (Resistance/civilians).

As for in-game notes, to my knowledge, only one was undoubtedly written by Jacob. It can be found in his bunker, Jacob’s Armory:

Dan Hay (Executive Producer/Creative Director/Writer) and Jean-Sébastien Décant (Narrative Director/Writer) talked extensively about John in a video for IGN, but unfortunately for us, the other members of the family didn’t have that privilege...

However, in a now-deleted interview for GameCrate, Drew Holmes (Lead Writer) said the following:

Jacob Seed, who’s the older brother, maybe doesn’t necessarily believe in Joseph’s message that God told him the end of the world was coming, but he believes in his brother, doesn’t matter if he’s right or wrong, he going to march forward with him.

And although Jacob loves his brothers, he reportedly doesn’t care much about Faith, according to the Lead Writer and NPC dialog.

In The Book of Joseph (which you can read here), Jacob is described as a protective big brother and an adventurous child who loved nature and “only felt comfortable in the outdoors”. He would sometimes steal candy for his two brothers so they “could have a bit of sweetness and comfort in [their] lives”. Their childhood was indeed miserable, mostly because their father was very violent. While he was “strong” and could withstand being beaten regularly, he hated seeing his youngest brother John in pain, so he started thinking about getting rid of their abuser. It’s unknown if he would have done it, but he never got to put his plan into action thanks to Joseph, who convinced him not to, and to child protective services.

The boys were sent to an orphanage and adopted by a couple, but they treated them like servants and “livestock”, even making them sleep in a barn. One night, Jacob had enough and, after waking his brothers up and freeing the animals, set fire to the property. When the couple ran outside, he also knocked out the husband with an axe handle. That led him to be sent to a juvenile detention center and separated from his brothers. There, he was “a bit of a troublemaker” and the guards didn’t like him. However, the teachers believed he had potential and was a good leader. At the end of his sentence, Jacob joined the army.

He spent several years (20, according to Dan Hay) in the military (the Marines according to the book, the 82nd Airborne Division according to the game) before being declared unfit for service because he suffered from PTSD. He then spent some time in a military hospital but was kicked out when he couldn’t afford it anymore. After that, he never received his pension (for unknown reasons) and started living on the streets, basically becoming invisible. Joseph found him “completely hollow” in a homeless shelter and only recognized him because he was calling his brothers’ names in his sleep.

Once the three brothers were reunited, Jacob “slowly came back to life” and swore to follow Joseph to the end. In the cult, his goal is to build and train an army so they’re ready for the Collapse, able to survive in the post-apocalyptic wilderness, and protect the rest of the Family.

In the game, he talks about the moment that redefined his life. During the first Gulf War, he and another soldier named Miller got separated from their unit because of an ambush and had to survive in the Iraqi desert. On the eighth day, he realized they were most likely going to die and accepted it, but “in that acceptance came clarity”. He saw Miller, who was barely able to walk anymore, as “an opportunity” for him to live… implying he cannibalized him. He adds it wasn’t something he wanted but something he had to do; his “test” (from God, I assume).

Because of this dehumanizing (and traumatizing) experience, Jacob came to believe that humanity was divided into two categories: the weak and the strong. The weak are not meant to survive, but they have a purpose. He thinks people are “meat”, “tools”, and expendable, so he doesn’t hesitate to “cull the herd” (his mantra) so only the strongest soldiers are in his army. He thinks society and modern technology have made humans weak and that people should return to their natural selves, like ancient men (who were an example of strength, to him). The Collapse will be a new beginning, but his soldiers need to be ready for it, which is why he obsessively selects and trains them, and doesn’t hesitate to experiment on converts.

As demonstrated with the Deputy in the game, Jacob conditions potential recruits using Bliss, violent images, and the song “Only You” (because of this scrapped idea) so they uncontrollably go on a killing spree whenever they hear the song. He starves them, keeps them in cages, and makes them go through trials to test their strength and teach them how to hunt and kill. He also expects them to “sacrifice”, as explained in this note (Grand View Hotel):

To pass through the Gate you must SACRIFICE something of yourself, to let go of the past and fully embrace your future with the Father. It has to have meaning. What is it that is keeping you here? What is it that anchors you, that prevents you from giving yourself freely to the Father? Is it your husband, your wife, your child? Maybe your brother, or mother? Once you have rid yourself of the shackles of your old life then you can open your heart to the Father’s voice.

He experiments on animals as well, mostly wolves, to turn them into mind-controlled “Judges”, more powerful and aggressive, and able to attack on command.

Like his siblings, Jacob has a strong personal philosophy inspired by his past. He basically makes the people he converts relive his trauma because he thinks it will make them better, fitter to serve the Project. He has specific goals but, as brutal as his actions are, isn’t cruel for the sake of cruelty. He tests people the way he believes he was tested, makes them go through starvation and dehumanization so they can revert to their primordial instincts, become warriors and be truly alive; reborn.

Jacob isn’t a very demonstrative man and is rather stoic, but I don’t think that means he doesn’t feel anything; he just doesn’t want/like to show his emotions (except maybe to his brothers). And as the eldest, it seems he doesn’t hesitate to speak his mind to Joseph. That said, while he isn’t sure if the Father can really hear God’s voice, he still has faith in him and is ready to give his life for him and the Project. In my opinion, Jacob possibly even believed that he had to die for Joseph, as his weapon and his sacrifice. He trained the Deputy so they would kill his former ally and main rival Eli for him, but I think it’s likely that he expected them to be strong enough to kill him as well, so the prophecy (and his destiny) would be fulfilled. As much as he told the Deputy they were neither strong nor special, in the end, he probably thought they were...

We don’t know if the traumatic memories of the war that would “surge up at any moment”, according to The Book of Joseph, still torment Jacob in the game because his PTSD is never really shown or mentioned, but we can assume it’s still there to some degree. It’s unknown where exactly his scars come from or what caused them, but he was most likely injured in combat. In my opinion, he also sometimes sounds like he has respiratory problems, but that’s never discussed, either.

To summarize this summary, Jacob is ruthlessly committed to his goals and convictions. He says nature doesn’t have empathy, so he shouldn’t, either. He went through hell several times and believes he only emerged stronger, so he thinks others can and must be hardened the same way to become the best, most primal version of themselves. He doesn’t fear death and possibly even expects it to come for him early, but it doesn’t matter because he would have fulfilled his destiny, and he has a legacy anyway: his army. Because of how strong and well-trained his soldiers are, he’s confident the Family will be safe, even after his death. Despite his incredibly twisted vision of the world and violent methods, deep down under all the hatred and trauma, it seems there’s still a little bit of that big brother who would try his best to protect his siblings and brighten their lives, somewhere, somehow…

#sorry this took almost a week #but I hope it helps!#(and that I didn’t forget anything important)#the links give more info anyway :)#far cry 5 #the book of joseph #jacob seed #far cry 5 spoilers

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exilynn · 1 month ago

Text

Oneshot- Magic words or... Swear words?

Author note: I'm thinking about doing this new format in addition to the fic, I hope you like this first one. I'll open a request soon <3 Sorry if it was a little insubstantial, I loved writing. If it works out, I really want to take these ones forward. But no chronology, just varied orders too

Well, welcome to my new world of Joes 💗

Listen:

Tags: !Sassy joe, conversations, touching, dominance, neediness, kisses, anal sex, vaginal sex, almost a more moderate BDSM

Paring: Joseph Quinn x Fem Artist Reader

Word count: 3.567

Keyword: "Teach a bad word"

You could be better, for sure, you came home after an exhausting day at work in your art studio. Your first cuddle of the day? No, you definitely had one the warmest comfort waiting for you and who loved to make you his pillow when he arrived exhausted from a meeting with his agent or important people. You cross the room after opening the apartment door, When you meet Joe, Joe seems bored with scrolling through his Instagram feed. At first, you would simply smile. After all, your man is there to give you attention.And you do the same, you liked to pamper him like he was a needy brat. Then, as you take off your shoes and jacket, you are caught by his investigative gaze.

A boyfriend's gaze, that one damn look of "You arrived and didn't even jump on my lap? Where's my kiss?" However, Joe stood there watching you put your bag down on the table and walk over to him. Now, so close, and taking up space that he had to watch the television in front of him. And he didn't care, at no point did he protest about you being in the way, because at first the television could no longer keep him entertained or less bored. Still close and with his hands wrapped around your waist, you catch his attention, as if he had flown to a distant planet. Maybe he was pretending?

A good boy? You didn't know, Joe was so hard to read him sometimes, and that made you want to dive deeper and deeper into his thoughts, you asked yourself, I want to have telepathy with this man but he JUST DOESN'T LET ME Enter his head and his most secret thoughts.

Maybe sweet, obscene, you never knew if he had both in the same party of neurons. So you decide to take the lead and experiences the struggle of talking openly like two adults tired of gossiping about life, people without substance. But Joe is faster, and asks a pointed question that could unfreeze any crack in your frozen heart.

"Honey, how was your day today? Are there a lot of people calling? Or are they just boring people wanting discounts on your art that's worth a lot more?" his voice was sweet, like candy. Maybe chocolates. And here we have those chocolate buttons that you were kind of dying to look at and see their reflection. You used to say that Joe had a beachy look, the kind where you feel summer, the sun burning your cheeks.

Joe could be the summer that warms your winter and all the other cold seasons that you let bloom inside you. But he prefers to see you in the garden as a fragrant flower, perhaps a gardenia.

And the sun shone on his face, that late afternoon, six in the evening. My God, that man has you paralyzed, and now you need to answer his question about "boss." Meanwhile, her eyes turn to you and flirt with the cold, botched execution of a serious woman. Haha, Joe knows very well how to disarm you from that woman you are at work, the mature side. He and you are fifth year students. Idiots in love, let's suppose.

"First, come here. HAPPY BIRTHDAY, LOVEE!" He says happy and kisses you all over of your face and lips, with hugs.

You smile like a little and happy girl. So needly.

"Today I was selected in a campaign. They want to publish my drawings, but I don't know if it's just another opportunist, my dear." you respond firmly and seriously. With a slight thoughtful air.

"How magnificent, my goddess. Do you want something to drink? Like celebrate with me, hm your birthday too? Mm… I spent part of this night alone, abandoned. I would like to spend time with my artist girl." He shot the arrow of love, those heart-shaped eyes.

"Hm, okay." disarmed, you were disarmed by Joe's mental ability to keep you from your own self-sabotaging thoughts. And you loved that, because love didn't come from dates, flowers, chocolates. It came from when Joe saw the worst in you and continued there as a fan, a loyal fan of the "idol" and for him you were more than an idol, you were his muse. He loved to show you to the world as his woman, He wasn't ashamed to act like a lovesick idiot, even though he was a serious man.

On the outside, his layers were just a persona he created to protect himself. And you admired that about him, you loved Joe out of that busy Joe who made big-time movies. For you, you would fall in love every day with the same Joe, the doting Joe, the passionate Joe, the Joe who spoiled you with books. The Joe gave you a studio to call your own, so that you would never forget each other, in case the day no longer smiles at you.

You quietly go to your bedroom, and get rid of your tight clothes. Putting on some comfortable pajamas, when you point your head back into the living room, you find Joe dragging the coffee table into the living room. He holds his glasses, and winks.

"Comfortable now, princess? You look so cute in your Hello Kitty pajamas." As cute as it was, it was actually Joe's cute way of flirting with you.

In response to his attempt to be the man of the house while making your woman relax, you simply smile. And her cheeks burn.

" Are you trying to be a good husband before you even get married, Joe? " the direct question makes Joe nervous.

He gives a small smile and remains focused on pouring glasses of rosé wine, stealing a few fleeting glances. It wasn't like he didn't have the courage to look at you, he had only seriously considered marrying you the following year. You both had solid, solid careers, so nothing would be wrong. You sat down next to him, and he handed you a glass gently, with a warm look.

As you drink and taste the wine you recently bought together at the market, you open up.

"Why all this ceremony for me? What did I do to deserve this cultured, cautious and warm man, huh?" you say with a grateful look. You no longer looked exhausted, he was your refuge.

He finished drinking the wine and left it on the table. He returned his gaze as a man in love and ran his fingers around her waist.

"You were the best thing that happened to me since those hellish days"

" Those hellish days? " you look at him, locking your gaze with his, not out of desire, you know he needs to be heard.

"Yeah, when everything was about my career, and there was almost no room for really solid stuff. I didn't even have time to listen to a song without having a zillion things orbiting around in my head"

"I understand, honey. I almost did the same thing to you, when you approached me, remember what the first thing you said was?" your fingers tightened in his hair, the curls intertwined as if they didn't want to let go of your fingers.

Joe became thoughtful.

"I said something stupid or clever?"

"How absurd! Don't you remember? That puts you down the marriage proposal chain!" You playfully swear at him and suddenly a swear word escapes your mouth, but on your tongue. Portuguese. "He's going to ruin everything!"

The first thing Joe does after hearing that crazy sentence said in another language is raise his eyebrows and stare at you.

"I remember, I was testing you, baby. And what was that? Did you curse at me in another language, babygirl?"

You huff, but you don't get mad at him, you punish yourself.

"Damn, that sucks. Excuse me?"

Joe hates it when you punish yourself like that, he likes you being free and passionate about everything you are or do. But he always reminds you, when you overdo it, "You shouldn't be measured by what you do out there."

And that thought orbits and you follow the planetary of admiration.

"I want you to have some manners with yourself. No holding back. How ugly, a grown woman, hot, fucking hot as hell. Talking so rudely to yourself? That's blasphemy!"— he protest seriously, as much as you can to punish yourself in the correct way.

You're speechless, Joe had this power, he would raid your words, like a thief, and steal them all, from your personal dictionary. But you always get the copyright back.

"Don't leave me like this, don't steal the words from my mouth when I want to speak!— you exclaim in a sly tone, which suddenly permeates, and he stops being rude.

"I'm not saying things to assault your vocabulary, I'm serious. I hate it when you act like that, you're so beautiful in every way, face, personality, body. Creative, so stop being bossy with yourself. Okay, baby?"

The flood of sermons makes you smile for him. He frowns, trying hard not to be defeated. Or to be defeated by the pout you're giving him right now.

"Shit, don't do that, that's not fair. I'm trying to be serious and you come with that pout".

But it didn't take long and he stole a kiss from you, after looking at you for a long time.

"Mmh, Joe. Great way to silence myself from intrusive thoughts— You smile inappropriately, and he does the same.

He licks his lips.

"You're the cutest, most hellish thing in my world, you know that?" his hands hold her face firmly, but with a delicate tone.

A while later, after the kiss. He drops his hand to your leg, his palm closing so well on your thighs, and before you can speak or get his attention, he plays at peeking inside your pajama shorts.

"Hey, watch out! You have no right to peek at my shorts. I'm not wearing any panties..."

The revelation makes Joe salivate, but he still wants to get serious and know how you are. So the macho, surrendered man pose, well, it disappears for a few minutes.

" I won't peek anymore, I promise..." but he is aware and realizes that you lied about not wearing underwear. "Ahh, liarrr"... He smiles shaking his head.

But, Joe complete:

"Now tell me, what was that about you suddenly cursing in Portuguese? Am I correct?

"I learned some pretty heavy swear words, you know, foreigners don't seem to have that swearing sauce..." you scoff but still maintain respect.

He rolls his eyes, but then becomes curious.

"And you know a lot of... Hm, swear words?"

"Oh my god, my boy wants to learn uneducated words??"

All Joe does now is stifle his laughter, but soon he invites you to the giggle party.

"I wanna know, teach me and I can teach you some British. How about that, love?"

The idea sounds appealing, and you went for it, even without a ticket.

"Tell me words and I'll translate them for you, hm?"

Joe looks thoughtful, his tongue circling the roof of his mouth, and suddenly says.

"I will be condemned, burned in hell, but how do you say in Portuguese "pussy?"

You laugh, unexpectedly.

" Hm, God... Okay, you would change the "p" at the beginning to "b". So you say " Boceta"

He frowns, and smiles. Tucking his hands behind her shoulder, as they sit on the couch.

"And how do you say something kind of cute, I mean, how do couples call each other? How do you say the affectionate word "darling"?

"You change the "d" in Darling to "q". It becomes "querida".

Joe tries to imitate what you say, with a certain note of embarrassment at having his tongue now rolled up.

"Querida..." He repeats it as if it were a sweet personal mantra that he would have with him or use when calling you.

"You don't want me to teach you a swear word combo, do you?"

" Combo?" His eyes seem lost. And searching for a mapping in yours.

"Yes, combo. Because in Brazil you don't swear with one or two words. Almost the entire dictionary comes with it!"

"Oh, then show me everything. I really want to know if they are more unbeatable than us British.

"A sua mãe, aquela cachorra sarnenta!"

Joe repeats his sentence, with a note of amusement. But he doesn't even know what he's saying, and it's hilarious.

"You actually got the drift of how to pronounce it right! Good kid!"

He smiles and says rubbing your fingers together.

" And what did I say?"

"You said "your mother, that mangy dog!"

Joe panics. The wrinkles contract.

"Wow! That's pretty offensive!" He stares at you as if he were fed more by more curiosity. And he was. " And what other swear words do you use most in Brazil, love?"

You start laughing before you speak.

"Filho da puta!"

He repeats confusedly. Out of orbit.

" Filho da puta? Love, what did I say?"

" Son of a bitch".

Okay, he was loving every moment of this with you, no matter how casual it was.

"Oh, God, that's terrible. But I like the sound of it, "Son of a bitch." His drawl drawl, making her almost soak your middle.

He continues to look at you, and his hand traces circles around your waist, and slowly moves up until it finds your sensitive point of reference. Your neck. He remains for a while with his gaze paused, still. And when you protests, he kisses you slowly. His lips wrap around yours like two ropes intertwining passionately. His tongue twirled as if your tongue were a planet to orbit and not leave so soon.

"Mmhh, baby..." He grunts and groans against your lips. "I was so lonely earlier. I want to fill you so much... With kisses."

You shiver under his sly looks and murmurs. Damn hot, cute Brit.

"You can't wait for me to make dinner."

"Nope". He responds slyly, now kissing her neck hungrily. "I'm hungry. For you..."

His eyes sparkle, and his stomach feels like he's on a Ferris wheel.

"Oh, god... What you want, baby? Hm, Joe?"

"Your Joe, he wants affection, and maybe some extra." He couldn't hide that he was crazy about every inch he had of you, that came from you.

And you go back to kissing, with his hands cupped in the corner of your face, lazily caressing your cheek. The kiss intensifies, and he moves his kisses down your blouse, without even protesting you let him play there. That made you alive, after all. The affection, the desire that mix in the same orbit. Thats you and Joe's love.

"mmh, give me your throughts, strip away every thought now." He begs, so submissive to her love and her touch.

You laugh at this adorable stupidity.

Then she climbs onto his lap, Joe smiles at her admission. And lifts her shirt to kiss her torso.

"I wanted this so much."

It almost came out like a sacred proverb, his need for you.

"We need..." At that, Joe opens the drawer behind him, stretching his arms. And hands you a condom. He was agile, over you and him.

You smile and slowly tear open the packaging as he beneath you screams inside for wanting you.

You hand him the condom, and he steps back a little, taking off his shorts and throwing them onto the other couch. However, when playing, he hits you in the eye, with a heavy hand.

"GOD, SORRY BABYY. I-I sorry... Are you hurt?" His voice is thick with worry. He keeps rubbing his eye, but you laugh it off. He kisses you several times on the mouth and sides as a way of making an apologetic apology.

"I'm fine, Joe. I'm fine." And when he makes sure you're not hurt, he lets out a sigh of relief.

Then he returns to his main mission, to have his girl riding under him.

"Will you be my pony?" He says this catchphrase that makes you laugh and get excited. That perfect mix.

"Have you been listening to Ginuwine? My God, Joseph…"

He accuses himself.

"Okay, guilty as accused. On a great R&B beat, baby."

You look at each other, and you start to rub yourself against him, and he pulls like a hungry animal your shorts and panties. He throws them aside, and after putting on the protection, he holds your sides and captures your lips, as you're gliding over it, lazily, because you don't want to start out like a starving animal. You like to eat from the edges, where the food is warm. You can't burn your mouth, you don't like this.

He kissed you as you slid from front to back, feeling like you were in a flower field where you were free to touch that soft grass. A crazy fantasy. And he was there with you.

"Fuck, that's it, slide like that. Fuck, fuck…" The sound of his soft moans hypnotizes you. And you decide to give in to the idea of doing it so well. You rub yourself slowly and he tastes it, while he guides you by holding your waist. Joe has a firm, seductive grip as he watches you slide lower and lower, wanting to feast inside him.

You were the main star and you looked like the porn star. The way you have it makes you spin, as if you are on a roller coaster of emotions and desires beyond madness. You were like Persephone and he was your Hades. He worships you like the goddess you are, Joe loved feeling you sail deeply over his sensitive spot. It was intriguing, terrifying, but it was the best thing he didn't want to feel.

You start to bounce on him, and the grunts become higher pitched and thicker. A mix of guttural moans. He could feel like a rockstar himself right now, with you devouring him like this. He stood up straighter and took off the house shirt he was wearing, and your hands touched his chest, as if he were some kind of art piece. Exposed only for you. Joe was art. His body, everything about him, from his accent, his smile, and along with his dimples were the damn perfect package of a man you wanted since the beginning.

"Joe, I need you... Mmhh, that's it... mmhh, Baby!" Her grunts blend with his, each new entry more personal into his dungeons.

He smiles and can barely speak, his speech has become slurred.

"Ride like this, that's it, you're my pony." It was as if he was using the song "pony" as a reference.

And you hit the spot deeper and deeper, and he thanked every movement as if it were a prayer. And maybe it was. You dove deeper, and he took his fingers, two fingers inside your mouth and you took them, sucked them. Spoiled them. Joe could no longer bear that pleasure. And he grunted as you ate his finger, and licked it with affection and adoration.

"Good God, you are such a goddess."

"Then worship me?" You ask indecently and domineeringly.

He no longer left you in charge, he turned you over on the couch, getting on top of you and engraved on the walls of his heart, every inch of you. Your sweet and inappropriate smiles of a devil. And there was also an angel in you. And he doesn't know who he likes more. But he's sure he'd love every character.

He took her from behind, and gave her a slap on her buttocks that reverberated through the walls, only they would know what they did. No one else would need it, however, he couldn't bear it, and he would make her pay. His price was going to be charged.

As he takes you from behind, he rigorously pulls your hair that he has grabbed a handful of, and whispers in the shell of your ear:

"You woke the dragon here, now you will be eaten, swallowed. I will breathe fire on you, inside you." That was so erotic, that you let out a little scream, before biting your lips and melting.

And you let him devour you like a hungry dragon. He began to slide over you, press into you. Deep, and rough. But there was still care, and the loving side there.

"That's what you want, to be filled, baby. So say it, words, love, words."

"What words?" Now, you act like a fool.

"I guess the key words?" He growled.

"Bad words?" You have signed your contract with the devil, with hell.

He smiled, laughed insanely, and pulled your hair. And he filled you, until your core had been kissed by the strength of him against you. Your core had never been so grateful for your bud holding him. It was hot, completely hot. And you melted like ice cream.

"You're my ice cream, and I'm going to lick you all over" Joe signs and then slides his mouth over your buttocks as he lifts you up, with you whimpering like a baby without your pacifier.

He continued to lick you every inch, and you felt yourself melting like ice cream in the sun. But it felt good, too good, his tongue dancing over every curve of your body. He ran his firm hands down her belly, and up to her breasts, quickly removing her shirt. Joe squeezed each pair, tightly, saying.

"You're mine, only mine, brat."

"Fill me with your babies"...

You groaned and took a deep breath. And then he filled her, moving his body a little toward her, and filled her completely, until they both fell on the couch, one on top of the other.

"Ah, your gift. "He walks away, still naked and hands you a small box.

You smile, warmed by his warmth, then placing his hand on your thigh.

"What… no, Joeeey, I didn't need this gift… Baby, I already told you that you are the greatest gift the heavens gave me!"

"Open this soon, silly. I really hope my girl likes it." Even though he was unsure, there was a hint of anxiety and euphoria.

"Okay…" You roll your eyes and smile. He starts to unwrap it and finds a delicate pendant marked with his name.

"Mm… The pendant was for you to remember that you are my favorite artist. You are so good at creating, every single day I hope you have this insight, don't be shy, my girl. Undress for the world, ok, undress your art. You are mine!" You thought Joe was so sweet, jealous but always knowing that his wife was an independent artist and admired that about you, before any other attribute.

Their eyes fill with emotion, as if they had been hosed down with cold water, but during a sweltering summer.

"Put it around my neck, please?" You ask and he gently removes the cord from your hand. Pull your hair forward until it touches your chest. And after dressing you in the pendant, he places several warm kisses on the back of your neck.

When you turn to him you notice the damage to the room.

"God, what a mess." You look at the room full of thrown clothes and pillows thrown aside. Joe laughs at her reaction and doesn't stop loving her expressions, from the angry one to the one that recognizes the almost perfect damage.

"You're my favorite mess, the person who taught me bad words today. I just love you, I love you so much." He turns your face and you feel his soft, cotton-like fingers lining your jaw. And you smile, so beautifully at Joe and he pulls you in for a kiss, and warm, messy hugs. After all, between dirty and offensive swear words, you learned every day that each other's mess was the true essence that you had to keep beyond a promise in your entire life. You and Joe would be the messy sides that other people didn't want to be in, but you wanted to dive deeper and deeper into that mess that you were together.

heyy If you like, reblog, wharever, just support me 💗sorry, if it was too short✨✨

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