#me: its fine i can go on a spree doing so many things after a two year break from photoshop

[arahabakix]

i’ve got way too many colorings planned + i’m trying to figure out a way to get back into gif making but ooh boi is the burnout real and painful;/////

[reilemon]

🫧Love Don't Be Shy🫧

♡︎ pairing: Rafayel x fem!reader

｡°⚠︎°｡MINORS DNI (18+ ONLY)｡°⚠︎°｡

♡︎cw:unprotected sex (as always), there's only one bed, sex toys, pulling out

♡︎word count: 2.9k

♡︎synopsis: Rafayel finds your mini "neck massager" while going through your makeup bag.

♡︎a/n: I hope you guys like how I wrote Rafayel.

♡︎ special thanks to my beta reader ♡︎@its-de♡︎ for reading and helping me with this

banner by @cafekitsune

A defeated sigh leaves your lips. You have to share the bed with your friend (employee?) Rafayel. You just nod when Rafayel checks with you if it's okay, and of course you agree because you don't want to go around searching for another hotel.

The last time you had to share a room, and the bed, you barely got any sleep as he was tossing and turning all night, stealing the duvet in consequence. You couldn't be too mad at him as you know how messed up his sleep schedule is. Also, he was so sweet for remembering your comment how you wished to see a certain spot at that place.

This time is no different; he organized this little trip for you to make good use of your vacation days. He researched all the restaurants that you'd like, shops that he'd like, fun and interesting places to visit, and always takes the best seats in the airplane. But he always forgets to book two rooms in advance!

It's not that bad, you tell yourself. You're very comfortable around Rafayel; he makes you feel safe and he adores spending time with you. It's just that you have your own night routine. And you can't do it with him in the same room.

Oh well, the vacation will fly by quickly.

Even with this little inconvenience, you wish it won't. Not because you don't want to get back to work, but because you also adore spending time with him. And lately, with every meeting you hope to become more than just friends (more than just an artist and his bodyguard).

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

After unpacking Rafayel and you go outside to grab a quick bite at the city centre. Of course that turns into an impromptu shopping spree because the two of you stumbled upon a vintage flea market.

You drag your feet as Rafayel almost skips next to you, bags with little trinkets in his hands. It's a beautiful summer afternoon, with a refreshing breeze. You'd enjoy it more if there weren't so many people around.

He glances at your 'energetic' walk. "C'mon Miss Bodyguard, we had a good time there!"

You chuckle. "Sure, if you can call 'talking you out of buying everything you see' a good time."

"But everything was so beautiful!"

"Yes, but think of the luggage!"

He shifts his bags to one hand and offers you the free one with a soft smile. "Give me your hand. I don't want to get lost."

He says that, but he's the one leading you through the crowd.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

You had to take a little nap after coming back to your room, because Rafayel had more things planned for this evening, and you needed the energy. You wanted to look and feel good because you actually looked forward to it. You might've even bought some new outfits that you thought he'd like, even though he gives you compliments no matter how much effort you put into your appearance.

While you were asleep, Rafayel took a long shower.

When you awoke, you found him in your room with nothing but a towel wrapped around his hips.

You blush and avert your gaze, opting to just not comment on it. "Are you at least wearing underwear?" You commented on it.

He looks down, like he forgot about his state of almost-undress. "I do. Wanna check?" His hand resting on the towel knot.

Your hand immediately shoots up to cover your view of whatever he's about to show you. "It's fine! I just didn't expect this to be the first thing I see after a nap!"

He laughs and strolls towards the closet. "You saw me in a bathing suit plenty of times. This towel covers more."

You can't help but sneak a peek at his toned back while he's picking out an outfit. For someone who claims to hate working out, he's more than fit. You can clearly see the way his muscles are carved under his pale still damp skin and the way they flex as he moves. As he turns around, you can’t help but crave to graze your hand over his defined abs and those veins leading down to -

"Like what you see?"

Caught red handed, you snap your head in the opposite direction, your face burning with embarrassment.

"I'll go take a shower." You mumble as you snatch your underwear and a nightdress from a drawer and escape to the bathroom, blushing even more as you catch Rafayel's mischievous laugh.

⋆ ˚｡⋆꒰ა 🪼 ໒꒱⋆ ˚｡⋆

Refreshed, and not at all embarrassed anymore, you emerge from the bathroom to get your makeup bag. You don't know whether to put the outfit on before the makeup, or the other way around...

Your brain short circuits when your eyes land on Rafayel holding your makeup bag in one hand - and your mini vibrator in the other.

He holds it up and studies it "Is this like a mini neck massager?"

You're frozen in place. Your body is discovering new levels of embarrassment.

Hearing nothing from you, his attention shifts to your figure. You don't register the way his eyes admire you in your little nightdress. "Well?" He presses the little button and the little buzzing sound hits your ears like crashing waves of sweat hitting your body.

He's teasing you. He has got to be teasing you. Like he always is. There's no way he thinks this is for his neck!

"Give it back." You croak, your throat dry.

"Why? You don't want to show me how to use it?" He's really going through with this little bit.

"Why were you even going through my makeup bag?"

He explains how he forgot to pack some cream and wanted to borrow it from you, or something like that, you barely listened because he was not letting go of the little bullet vibrator. He's put down the makeup bag, but not the toy!

The buzzing gets stronger as Rafayel's finger presses the button multiple times. "So, which setting is the best?"

He flinches as you basically hurl yourself towards him to take back what's yours. He holds it in the air, away from your reach.

"What's up with you?" his eyebrows knot, cheeks lightly red at the close proximity.

"Give it back!"

Finding your frustration confusing but at the same time cute and amusing, he continues to keep it out of your reach, letting you chase him around the room.

"Nuh - uh!" he laughs and turns to you, only for his face to be met with a white fluffy pillow.

You smacked him across the face, not too hard of course; you're still his body guard. You earn a little 'hey!' with a flushed face and to defend himself, he puts the toy in his pocket and grabs his own pillow. You didn't even notice how good his outfit looked.

The two of you end up in a brief pillow fight - mostly him taking hits while you managed to dodge most of them. But then Rafayel swiftly snatches your pillow, and pins you down on the bed, holding your wrists in his hand and resting his knees on the bed.

He asks, out of breath "Is it not a neck massager?" While you were in a pillow fight he caught on how red your face is and how that shape doesn't seem like it's for the neck.

You struggle under him, aware of how your nightdress lifted under the impact, and how your breasts are on the verge of spilling out. A small whine leaves your lips in frustration as he's so much stronger than you.

"Yes! It's my vibrator, okay?" you can't meet his gaze. You're sure you look so damn pathetic right now.

But you don't see the delight in Rafayel's eyes as he takes in your cute flushed pouting face. He can't help but take a peek of your figure under him, the way your tits are barely covered, the hem of your dress lifted to show off your plush thighs pressed together.

He releases his hold on you and sits back, still straddling you. "Is that why you were upset over one room? You could've just told me and I would've taken a walk or something. Maybe even get you a snack to replenish your energy."

You could not be more mortified. Your eyes are still fixed somewhere to the side and your lips don't move.

His fingers softly hold your chin and you muster the courage to look him in the eyes. You notice how messy his curls are. "There's nothing to be ashamed of." He reassures you with a soft smile, and hands you over the wretched thing.

And you loved that about Rafayel - he knew when to stop teasing and when it's time to give you reassurance.

Still, you needed your little revenge.

It doesn't matter that he's stronger than you, you still have your hunter skills, and in a blink of an eye, you switch positions, straddling his lap.

He opens his mouth to make some dirty joke but only a yelp gets out when you suddenly press the buzzing toy on his side while locking his wrists with your hand.

He pleads for mercy as you continue to run the vibrator on second to highest setting all over his torso.

A blush creeps up on your cheeks, and heat pools between your legs as his whimpers and gasps keep leaving his plump lips and his body squirms under you, his crotch grazing your bottom.

Flustered and out of breath, Rafayel had enough of the torture and pins you down again - pressing you in the same position you had him in, but with his knee so dangerously close to your clothed heat.

"You're being cruel, kitten." he breathes, his tone a little too calm for your liking.

He takes the toy from you and starts sliding it down the middle of your belly, the contact making you squirm and laugh a little. "I was being supportive here and you go and start torturing me."

"I was embarrassed!" you scream between laughs and pants.

He complains in his playful manner about how you attacked him while he was so confused, you can barely hear him over your involuntarily laughs. In your squirms and attempts to break free, your core grinds more than once against his knee and upper thigh.

And maybe he's inching his knee closer to you.

You open your eyes when you don't feel the tickles anymore. You're met with his soft hooded eyes.

"I want to make it up to you, darling."

He studies your face as his hand moves up and a gasp leaves your lips as it lightly grazes the underside of your breast over with the vibrating toy.

He repeats the same motion on the other breast. "Do you want me to stop?"

You sheepishly shake your head.

The grip on your wrists loosens, but you let him hold you down.

Finally, he gives attention to your already pebbled nipples, carefully rubbing circles around them. His eyes take in your flushed face - beautiful lips parted as you pant underneath him, eyes veiled with lust and desperation for more, sensitive nipples poking through the thin fabric of your nightdress.

Your panties are damp with the attention on your nipples and core grinding against his knee. And with Rafayel on top of you, with his cheeks flushed, messy hair and half lidded eyes gazing at you with adoration, you crave more.

He doesn't need to read your thoughts to know what you need. Your hips are desperately pressing against him, soaked panties leaving a wet patch on his pants.

A playful smirk stretches his lips, but he fights the urge to tease you. Instead, his hand trails down, avoiding your tummy this time, and presses the toy on your inner thigh, earning a jolt from your legs and a whimper from your lips. With his slender fingers, he lifts up the hem of your dress, exposing your panties.

You feel his knee move back, but still touching your clothed heat. Pressing the button for the lowest setting, he places the vibrating tip of the toy right between your folds, the familiar sensation of the vibrator making you moan. Only it's different now, because Rafayel is the one pressing it against you, the one making you feel so good, which makes you cream, your heart beating against your chest, your face and chest burning with need and desire.

With more confidence, Rafayel starts pressing and slowly rubbing your sensitive bud. "You like that princess? Does it feel good?"

You frantically nod, your pussy already throbbing with an impending orgasm. "Just like that!" You manage to breathe out.

His cock is painfully hard in his boxers, straining in his tight pants. He feels like he could cum just watching your beautiful face dazed with lust and listening to your sinful moans. Soft pants are leaving his lips "Fuck, you're so beautiful."

He releases your wrists to rest his elbow next to your head and he dips down, latching his lips with yours. You reciprocate immediately, wrapping your arms around his neck, relishing in the feeling of finally tasting his gorgeous pink lips.

Both of you are a panting mess, kissing sloppily, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth as your tongue intertwines with his.

And all of this is becoming too much for you, and you already feel the coil in your stomach is about to snap any second. You snatch the collar of his shirt, probably ripping from how tight you're gripping it. "Don't stop, I'm cummin' - !"

He watches you in awe as you tremble and mewl underneath him, unable to kiss him back as the waves of your release overtake you. His lips latch onto your neck as he uses his thumb and knee to help you come down from your high. His breath is trembling as he sucks and licks the sensitive skin on your neck, his face burning and cock throbbing.

He almost whines in your ear "Please, please princess, I need to fuck you so bad..."

Your fingers interlace with his messy curls and he lifts up his head to meet your eyes. His cheeks and ears are burning red, eyes pleading and hooded with lust.

You softly whisper "I need you."

The same second he hears those words, his working hand frantically works his belt and the pants, a sigh of relief leaving his lips as his hot leaking cock is freed. He wants to take his sweet time with you, worshipping you, but he's already on the brink.

And you're so impatient; you pull your panties to the side and take his cock in your hand and tease the tip against your dripping pussy, the action making the man above you whimper.

"Fuck, princess!" He moves your hand away and squeezes the angry red tip. "Watching you got me so worked up, I don't think I'm gonna last long." He admits with a weak smile.

You pull him into a soft kiss "That's okay, you already made me cum so hard."

He kisses your lips and slowly starts sliding in, a gasp leaving both of your lips. He rests his forehead against yours, eyes squeezed shut as he eases into your sopping cunt.

You bite his delicious bottom lip as he buries himself to the hilt, your walls fluttering around his cock and you feel like you're about to cum again. You release his bottom lip and you move onto kissing his jaw and neck. Fuck, he smells so good.

He stays still as he tries to hold onto his sanity. His hot breath fans over your ear "You're squeezing me so hard, doll."

You wiggle your hips and press his lower back, urging him to start moving. Exhaling a shaky breath, his hips slowly start rolling, yours moving at the same pace. Mewls and moans are leaving your lips, as his cock keeps stroking the sweet spot inside you, glazing his length in your slick.

Rafayel needs to make you cum around his cock, but he’s already so painfully close, with your wet walls squeezing him so hard, your pretty lips on his neck and your bewitching voice in his ear.

He was so captivated by you that he almost forgot about the little toy lying next to you.

Your eyes widen when you see him snatch the toy and turns it on to a higher setting and props himself up, angling his hips to reach your swollen and twitching bundle of nerves. Intense shocks of pleasure take over your body as he starts rubbing the vibrator again, and in seconds you're a whimpering mess as his cock thrusts into you, repeatedly hitting that sensitive spot, and his hand pressing the toy on your clit.

"Raf - I -" Is all you manage to say before another orgasm overtakes you, your breath catching in your throat and for a second you think you're going to pass out. You can barely hear Rafayel's soothing and strained whispers of you how gorgeous you are and how pretty you sound.

But hear him whimper "I'm gonna cum, princess."

He tosses the drenched vibrator to the side and with a squelching sound pulls out of you, and your hips twitch as he presses the tip against your still throbbing clit as he jerks himself off, ropes of hot cum spilling all over your belly and drenched cunt. You’re thankful he pulled up your dress in the process, but you wouldn’t mind if he stained it.

After both of you take a moment to catch your breath, he puts his weight on you and you wrap your arms around his back squeezing him tight.

He peppers you with soft kisses all over your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. His fingers caress your face.

He chuckles with that playful smirk on his lips. "I should snoop around your stuff more often."

[lqveharrington]

Feelings Mutual | C.G.

summary: Your forced to hangout with Cardan at the High King’s birthday celebration. Turns out, you both make stupid decisions when drunk. And what’s the fine line between hatred and love between two being who can’t lie anyway?

pairing: Cardan Greenbriar x half fae!fem!reader

includes: drunk Cardan, drunk reader, cursing, making out, suggestiveness, no use of Y/N, barely proofread (i think that’s it)

a/n: i’m on a reading spree, and working on my projects, so this should help get me out of a huge writing slump.

In Faerie, it was uncommon for a half fae, half human being to be a princess in the court. Your father — the King of one of the many lands — wed a human woman, causing you to become the land’s princess. Of course many of the court thought that you were lesser than them; For such a creation should never hold that high of a status.

Ever since you were younger, you often attended lessons with the High King’s youngest child. At first, you sought out to befriend him and his group of friends. But you soon found out that they loathed you. Because how could a halfling ever be a worthy princess?

So you gave up trying to befriend them. You let the group taunt you for not being full fae, but what was the worst thing they could do? You still were a daughter of a very powerful king. The very king that was the closest with the High King himself.

You and your family were constantly invited to all their gatherings, and this one wasn’t an exception. It was the High King’s birthday, which meant all of Faerie was invited to Elfhame palace to celebrate such a day. The only issue with that meant your father and mother urged you to talk to Cardan and his group.

“Mother, they don’t like me.” You wring your hands together, fidgeting with your silver jewelry.

She clicked her tongue, “Nonsense. Prince Balekin spoke of how much Cardan talks about you when he comes home from your lessons.”

“Wait what?” Your eyes widen at her in disbelief. “Mother, I’m sure they’re words of hate.”

“Is it because you don’t like your dress? Are you afraid they’ll hate it?” She tugged you to stand in front of herself. “You look gorgeous, angel.”

You purse your lips at her compliment. You truly loved the dress. It was a beautiful sage color that complimented your skin tone completely, and the corset really did wonders. There were gorgeous lace details of butterflies that were a shade darker, with a slit running down one side of the dress. It was beautiful, but you feared that it was much too modern for Faerie, causing your thoughts to wander to how Cardan’s friends would insult it.

“No, I love the dress, mother.” You give her a tight lipped smile, squeeze her hands. “If you truly wish for me to find Cardan, I’ll go and be friendly so you and father can enjoy your time here.”

“Thank you.” She pressed a kiss to your forehead and a real smile etched its way onto your face.

“Be safe, alright?” Your father squeezed your shoulder before leaning down to whisper words your mother couldn’t hear. “If trouble comes, you know what I’ve taught you. You have your dagger?”

Your lips twitch in excitement, “Of course.”

“Then you’re all set then, kiddo.” He gave you one last look before resting an arm around your mother’s waist. “I’ll come find you when it’s time for us to depart.”

You nod before taking a small bow. You watched them leave and make their way to the throne, immediately engaging with the High King and Queen. They seemed happy, which made you glad that they accepted your mother as their own. Shaking your head, you took a deep breath and blew out the air in one go. Carefully, you made your way over to Cardan. Luckily, he was on his own for once.

“Cardan.” You nod in his direction, watching his dark eyes with flecks of gold suddenly gazing into yours. Without fail, his eyes roam over your body, tail whipping behind himself after gaining someone’s attention.

“Princess! Don’t you look absolutely captivating tonight.” He slurred, red wine dripping out of his glass. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

You raised a brow at the prince. From what you could recall, he didn’t live inside the palace walls. And there wasn’t a chance he could lie either. “You don’t live here.”

“I used to.” He tipped his glass up to his wine stained lips, taking in the drink whilst taking in the sight of you.

“Where are your—“ You use your hand to gesture in the air as you grab your own glass of wine from a server passing buy. Unsure of how to word your question, you sip on the wine, immediately hit by its strength. “Where are your friends, I should say.”

“Off to bother some mortal or do something stupid.” He smiles in your direction as you down your drink and reach for another. “What’s upsetting you, princess?”

“Nothing.” You tilt your head toward him, eyes flicking down from his strange stare to his stained lips. “Just want time to move faster.”

“How drunk do you want to get?” He leans closer to you, fingers itching to pull you into him.

You place a hand to his mouth and push him further away from yourself. He hums as he traces his finger over his empty wine glass.

“How many glasses have you had, Cardan?” You tip back your third drink, missing his smirk while he watches.

“Enough.”

“Enough to forget?” You turn toward the table and grab the strongest drink, carefully downing the drink.

His shadow towers over you as his breath tickles your neck, “Forget what exactly, love?”

“I hate you.” You say against Cardan’s lips, arms loosely hanging around his neck. “I hate you so much.”

He continues to push you backwards as he slams the door behind him, hands finding their place around your waist. “Feelings mutual, princess.”

Letting your hand thread through his hair, you pull him in for a more heated kiss, tugging ever so slightly at his roots. Cardan groans against your lips, pulling your body closer to his.

“This is such a stupid idea.” You unwillingly part as he drops you down on a bed — hopefully one that used to be his. You let out a small gasp as he litters soft kisses on your throat and down to your exposed collar bone. Your hands find his shoulders, pulling him impossibly closer. “Cardan—“

“Yes, love?” He slowly makes his way back up to your lips, pressing short kisses as you try to make sense of the situation. He stops attacking you with his lips, staring and waiting for you to continue.

You shake your head, eyes glassy with drunkenness as you meet his gaze. “Kiss me.”

“You’re too perfect for me.” He groans again, tasting the red wine from your lips as he kisses you harder. “God, I hate you.” Cardan mumbles as he lets his hands wander over your body, refraining from the more private areas at the moment.

Cardan allows you to wander over his own body, feeling you fidget with the hem of his shirt. Letting your hands slip underneath his shirt, you let out a small sigh before flipping the both of you over. You quickly toss your dagger onto the floor before meeting his lips again, the kiss heightening all your profound feelings.

As minutes turned into an hour more, you both fell into a pit of no return. The shared kisses were intensified, and without either party having a clear mind or being sober, neither could stop the motions that lulled them both to sleep very late into night.

It wasn’t until early afternoon that the pair awoke to the sounds of pounding at the door and a splitting headache.

“Your highness, your father is looking for you.” The voice called from outside the wooden doors, causing you to groan and bury your head into the warmth emitting from your bed.

A beat passed before the pounding occurred once more.

“Your highness—!”

“In a minute!” Cardan shouted, eyes shut from the dizziness and hangover. “For fucks sake…”

Your eyes widen at the voice, head rushing up before falling back down at the impact of a jaw. “Shit, that hurt.” You mutter, wincing when you felt the hangover hit you. Slowly, you remove yourself from Cardan’s arm, slightly frowning when you saw him rubbing his jaw. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to slam into you…”

“I think that’s the least of our concerns.” He grumbled, glaring at the door again.

He pushed himself up from the bed, eyes raking over your appearance. He smirked over at you before leaning against the headboard. You crease your brows before looking down and realizing whose clothes you were in — crossing your arms over the loose shirt.

“Princess, I think your father will be a little disappointed in you.”

“Why is that?” You roll your eyes at him, keeping one arm over Cardan’s shirt while running your free hand through your hair.

Your bored gaze meet his amused one, watching him tilt his head. You look away as you weren’t necessarily hiding the fact that you were eyeing his bare chest either.

He pulled you into his chest, despite your halfhearted protests. “Because you have hickeys all over your skin.” Cardan presses a kiss to your cheek, causing your breath to hitch.

All the memories from last name came rushing in, warmth filling your body at the thoughts. Your eyes flit to your dress and dagger scattered across his floor, still thinking of the punishment to come.

However, you did not regret him.

“I don’t think we drank enough last night.” You twist in his arms, lips barely touching his.

“I don’t think so.” He lands a soft kiss to your lips. “I still hate you, love.”

“Feelings mutual.” You straddle over his hips and rest your forehead on his, both your heads still pounding from last night’s activities.

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[nicklloydnow]

“Alyoshka was not yet a Catholic then, but he no longer wore a beard. He had just been laid off as a guard, he had surrendered his nightstick and uniform and become once more the mustachioed and dark-eyed Alyoshka Slavkov, cheerful despite a bad limp, lover of booze. Alyoshka fed me sauerkraut and sausages, his unvarying diet, and sat down to translate a document I had brought. Entitled "Memorandum," the document expressed the hopes and dreams of what we called "the creative intelligentsia"—of Alyoshka and myself and a great number of other artists, writers, filmmakers, and sculptors who had emigrated from the USSR and whom no one here needed one fucking bit.

Alyoshka translated, and I sat in an old chair, its upholstery worn shiny, and thought about our document and our intrigues. "A drowning man's effort not to drown," I thought. Two pages. To be sent to Jackson, Carey, and Beame. As if they would help us with our art. Those demagogues had needed us, however, while we were over there. Here they shoved us on welfare so we wouldn't bitch. Okay, Ivan, have a spree, enjoy your freedom.

Cold-blooded Americans, they're so fucking smart, they advise the likes of us to switch professions. Just one thing—why don't they switch professions themselves? When a businessman loses half his fortune he throws himself off the forty-fifth floor of his office building, he does not go to work as a guard. I could have conformed in the USSR, why the fuck come here to do it? That was all the Soviet regime wanted of me, to change my profession.

A fine emigration we are, I went on in my thoughts, the most frivolous one yet. Usually only the fear of starvation or death can force people to leave a place, abandon their homeland, knowing that they may not be able to return, ever. A Yugoslavian who leaves for a temporary job in America can return home to his country, we can not. Never again shall I see my father and mother; I, little Eddie, am firm and calm in this knowledge.

It all started with Messrs. Sakharov, Solzhenitsyn, and company, who turned us against the Soviet world without ever having laid eyes on the Western world. They were prompted not only by specific purposes—the intelligentsia were demanding a part in governing the country, demanding their share—but also by pride, the desire to advertise themselves. As always in Russia, moderation was not observed. They may have been honestly deceived, Sakharov and Solzhenitsyn, but they deceived us too. Whatever the case, they were "dominant influences." So powerful was the intelligentsia's movement against their country and its system that even the strong could not resist and were swept along. So we all shag-assed over to the Western world as soon as the opportunity presented itself. We shag-assed over here, and having seen what the life is like, many if not all would shag-ass right back, but it's impossible. The Soviet government is not nice.

Fucking smart Americans, they advise men like Alyoshka and me to change professions. Where am I to hide all my thoughts, feelings, ten years of living, books of poetry? And me myself, where am I to hide refined little Eddie? Lock him up in the shell of a busboy. Bullshit. I tried it. I can no longer be an ordinary man. I am spoiled forever. Only the grave will reform me.

Eventually American security forces are going to have trouble with us. After all, not everyone conforms. In a couple of years look for Russians among the terrorists in liberation fronts of every description. That is my forecast.

Change our professions! Can the soul be changed? Knowing definitely what he is capable of, is it everyone who can suppress himself here and live the life of an ordinary man, laying no claim to anything, when he sees around him money, success, and fame, all of it largely undeserved, when he knows from experience both here and in the Soviet Union—and in this case the experience is identical—that he who is obedient and patient receives all from society, that he who sits on his butt all day and curries favor gets it all.

The brilliant inventors of vegetarian sandwiches for Wall Street secretaries can be counted on the fingers of one hand. For the most part, people arrive at success here just as they do in the USSR, by obedience, by wearing out the seat of their pants in their own or a government office, in boring daily labor. That is to say, civilization is constructed in such a way that the most restless, passionate, impatient—as a rule the most talented, who seek new paths—break their necks. This civilization is paradise for the mediocre. We thought the USSR was a paradise for the mediocre, we thought it would be different here if you were talented. Fuck no!

Ideology there, business reasons here. That is roughly true. But what difference does it make to me exactly why the world doesn't want to give me what is mine by right of my birth and talent? The world calmly gives it—a place, I mean, a place in life, recognition—to the businessman here, to the party worker over there. But it has no place for me.

Fucking shit! I'm being patient, world, very patient, but some day I'll get fed up. If there's no place for me, and for many others, then who the fuck needs a civilization like this?

That last thought I expressed aloud to Alyoshka Slavkov, who is far from agreeing with me in everything. He is drawn to religion, inclined to seek salvation in religious tradition; on the whole he is calmer than Eddie, although he too has storms raging within him, I think. He dreams of becoming a Jesuit, and I mock his Jesuitism and predict that he will participate in the world revolution along with me, a revolution whose goal will be to destroy civilization.

"And what would you build in its place, you and your friends in the Workers Party?" Alyoshka said. For some reason he lumps me in with the Workers Party, to which I have never belonged. I have merely been interested in it, as in any other leftist movement. I did become more intimate with Carol and her friends than with members of the other parties, but that was pure chance.

"The hardest thing of all," I told Alyoshka, "is to overthrow this civilization, tear it out by the root so that it cannot revive as it did in the USSR. To overthrow it once and for all is to build something new."

"And what will you do about culture?" Alyoshka asked

"This feudal culture," I said, "which inculcates wrong interpersonal relationships that originated in the distant past under a different social order-what will we do about it? We'll fucking annihilate it. It's unhealthy, it's dangerous with all its little tales of good millionaires, wonderful police who defend citizens from bestial criminals, magnanimous politicians who love flowers and children. Why is it that not one of these stinking authors—notice, Alyoshka, not one—will write that crimes, the majority of them, are generated by civilization itself? If a man kills another and takes his money, it's certainly not because he likes the color and crunch of those scraps of paper enough to murder another. He knows from his society that among his fellow countrymen those scraps of paper are God, they'll bring him any woman he wants, and bring him his grub, and deliver him from exhausting physical labor. Or a man kills his wife for betraying him. But if there were other customs, a different ethic, and interpersonal relationships were measured only by love, then why would he kill for unlove? Unlove is a misfortune, it's to be regretted. Television always shows families, and gentlemen in suits. But that's already on the way out. The gentlemen in suits are on the way out, and the wild wind of new relationships, ignoring all police measures, all religious barriers, howls over America and the whole world. The gentleman in a suit, the gray-haired head of the family, is suffering defeat after defeat, and soon, very soon, he will no longer be able to govern the world. The husband and wife who joined together in order to have a more peaceful, economically more advantageous life—not for love, but at the decree of custom—theirs was always an artificial arrangement and engendered a host of tragedies. Why the fuck preserve an obsolete custom?"“ - Eduard Limonov, ‘It's Me, Eddie’ (1979) [p. 148 - 151]

[nutzworth]

DAY 5: JANUARY 31, 2024 (i got to start reading more consistently.)

STATS: read for ~3 hrs pages read: 1052-1359. 307 pgs. act 4! slur count: 8 + 1 = 9 (john r slur on 1 of his defaced posters) silly count: 11 + 0 = 11 (i might have missed some. to be honest) piss count: 1/3

THOUGHTS: today started with john's alchemizing spree! i really like the alchemy even though i can NOT understand how the binary and codes quite work. john does though. johns really smart about alchemy in sburb specifically. this section also has a lot of funny john faces. i love this guy

FINALLY the end of dave and bros strife! jesus! been 2 sessions sicne it started! i said this last time but i think its SO INTERESTING how bro doesnt cut or stab dave in any way during the strife. they clash and lil cal gets torn up and daves sword gets 1/2ed and daves SYMBOL gets scratched but when hussie shows dave after the fight hes winded and bruised and battered but hes NOTABLY NOT BLOODY! obviously being bruised cus youre FIGHTING! WITH YOUR DAD! is bad and your dad (bro) is a criminal but. man. how much restraint was bro USING. to be SO PRECISE! did he have to choose between slashing dave and slashing cal in that split second? why else would he possibly have slashed cal? for paradox reasons? i really like dirk strider

the unofficial homestuck collection website is bugging out SO BAD for me. for so many flashes today the music just did not play. it SUCKS! but its fine i just play the music in another tab. i hope they fix that but i know its not priority

i really like the few dave logs i read today. dave is sooooo sad puppy on the other side of a cracked door that sees you and wants to get in the room but cant figure out how to push open the door so he just whines. "hello" "what are you doing" "man where are you" "are you there" he is so cute. in contrast the other dave log today was DAVE AND TAVROS!!!! HOORAY FOR TAVROS! and dave in this one is really funny hes so nonchalant and like "no man. if you want to have sex with a 13 yr old boy okay dude. im on board. time and place." and tavros is like UM! NO! IM GOOD! HAHA! }:) ! they are so funny. the striders are SO internet troll. dave does it flawlessly

KANAYA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE KANAYA! SHES MY FAVORITE TROLL! shes so awesome in the kanaya/rose log she is so funny. start talking to this girl like "humans cant understand time travel when its really so simple youre all kind of dumb" and ending with "hey we should be friends". i literally love her

EXILES! not much happened with the exiles. introduced to aimless renegade. what a cop. pa harley heart! thanks for your guns pa!

THE FLASH WHEN ROSE ENTERS THE GAME IS SO COOOOOL!!!!!!!!! i really really like it unfortunately the sound didnt work so all the beats didnt hit quite right but they hit ENOUGH. SO COOL! I LOVE ROSE!!!! theres so much going on all the time for that girl. i love you rose

INTERMISSION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i really like the intermission i think its so fun trying to parse what the hell is happening. i have GOT to read problem sleuth because so many of the things i find funny are straight up just problem sleuth bits

hussie averting the readers expectations with the like You have a deck of cards. ==> play solitaire With what cards? Dumbass? Fuck off. You only have your WAR CHEST. i think this is hussie like softdropping his rivalry with his audience. it starts with silly banter and then hes like im going to make a character representing the fandom and im going to kill her off (calliope)

the felt are SO COOL! if anyone knows all the pun names for them lmk. i only know a few obvious ones.

the intermission is SO gory. theres so much blood and death and guns and knives. like ok dude i get youre in mafia gangs or whatever but cool it on the blood and yucky faces! yeesh! there is also more crude jokes in it than normal i think. maybe cus these are real adults with pornography in their briefcases than like 13 yr olds. "jack king off" "you beat it(your heart) pretty often" "fist full of penis" etc

you kjnow what drives me crazy. the ACTUAL REAL TIMELINE of the intermission. or at least what it means for the rest of the comic. obviously the intermission is foreshadowing (esp when slick gets his eye and arm cut off; mentioning lord english; etc) but like. its MORE. when i first read homestuck i was under the impression that the intermission was just some other timeline in some universe. granted i dont remember slicks eye and arm getting nixed or karkat vantas reveal or lord english mention or anything that foreshadows anything. but NO! its NOT some other timeline! but it IS another universe. its ALTERNIA!!!!!!!!!!!

the story of jack noir (spades slick) as i know it is as follows: jack noir spawns in derse ==> commits a crime (probably shittalking the queen) ==> gets exiled to... um. somewhere. ==> i assume he meets karkat here? and stabs him. and karkats blood is revealed and then theyre friends ==> slick (now scurrilous straggler) is left on the green moon? exiled in rags ==> he builds a city ==> the felt's mansion is there also. they form gangs and become rivals ==> intermission starts; midnight crew infiltrates lord english's lair to get the vault prizes ==> slick goes in the vault and begins commanding karkat. if im wrong about any of this correct me im so curious

i really like clubs deuce and diamonds droog. i wish crowbar was in the intermission more. clover is just like nagito komaeda. trace and fin are insaaaane. i wish i knew more about the felt

ACT 4! GAME!!!!! game on lowas. its really cool i didnt get to play it my first readthrough. love the salamanders and love the captchalogue nonsense. it is so fun. thats all for today folks

[scotttrismegistus7]

THE QUESTION OF THE RETURN OF THE JEWISH OR THE CHRISTIAN MESSIAH, THERE CAN BE ONLY ONE.

SO I CAN ABSOLUTELY SEE WHY THERE IS THIS RAGING BATTLE BETWEEN THE LEARNED ELDERS AND THE JESUITS, AND I CAN ALSO SEE WHY IT WOULD DEFINITELY BE AGAINST THE INTERESTS OF THE JEWISH PEOPLE IN GENERAL FOR THE JESUITS TO GET AWAY WITH HIJACKING THE SECRET SPACE PROGRAM, FOR MANY DIFFERENT REASONS.

SO I GUESS IT'S A REALLY GOOD THING THAT THE LEARNED ELDERS AND THE JEWISH PEOPLE MADE A DEAL WITH ME, BESIDES THE FACT THAT NOBODY WANTS TO SEE WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH USED BACK ENGINEERED ALIEN TECHNOLOGY TO TRY AND TAKE OVER THE WORLD, AND THEN VIOLENTLY FORCED EVERYBODY TO CONVERT TO CHRISTIANITY. BELOW IS THE DOCUMENTARY BY DR STEVEN GREER WITH THE MARKED QUOTE IN ALL CAPITALS WHERE IT IS STATED THAT THEY WANT TO TRY AND FORCE THE SECOND COMING OF CHRIST WITH THE TECHNOLOGY OF THE SECRET SPACE PROGRAM.

ON A SLIGHTLY DIFFERENT NOTE, OUR SIDE WANTS ME TO ACKNOWLEDGE ZIONISM AS PART OF OUR AGREEMENT, WHICH IS FINE. AS I HAVE TOLD THEM BEFORE, THE GERMANS ARE GOING TO BE MOVING UP TO A NEWLY CREATED 13TH HOUSE, TO CONDUCT GOVERNING AFFAIRS OVER THE ENTIRE TIME SPHERE. THAT LEAVES THE HOUSE THEY CAME FROM OPEN, WHICH WE WILL GIVE TO ISRAEL. THAT WOULD LEGITIMIZE ISRAEL IN THE EYES OF THE GODS AND GODDESSES, AND THE SPIRIT WORLD IN GENERAL. AS FAR AS SPECIFIC PLOTS OF LAND, WE MAY HAVE TO TRY AND WHEEL AND DEAL WITH THE ARABS ONCE WE GET MORE FULLY INTO THE AGE OF AQUARIUS WHERE THE ENERGY PATTERNS OF OUR TEAM ARE MORE DOMINANT. THE SECTOR BOUNDARIES OF THE 12 HOUSES OF THE TIMESPHERE SHUFFLE AROUND ALL THE TIME, BECAUSE IN FOURTH DENSITY THERE IS ALREADY A UNITED WORLD AND GOVERNING SYSTEM, SO IT SHOULDN'T BE A BIG DEAL. BASICALLY, WE WOULD END UP CREATING THE HOUSE OF ISRAEL, WITH WHATEVER LAND ENDS UP BEING ITS OWN PLACE, IN FOURTH DENSITY ONCE WE GET THERE, AS ONE OF THE LEGITIMATE 12 HOUSES OF THE TIMESPHERE. UNTIL THEN, BECAUSE OF THE PLACEMENT OF THE DOME OF THE ROCK, THERE MIGHT HAVE TO BE A SHARING DYNAMIC, UNFORTUNATELY. JUST PLEASE TRY NOT TO BLOW EACH OTHER UP, AND EVERYBODY JUST RELAX AND BE CALM AND HAPPY. THE PAGANS AND THE REAL ALIENS DON'T REALLY LIKE WAR OR VIOLENCE, SO WE'D MUCH RATHER FIND A PEACEFUL SOLUTION, BY WHEELING AND DEALING OR WHATEVER WILL WORK.

OBVIOUSLY, THE PAGAN WORLD, WHICH INCLUDES THE REAL ALIENS THAT ARE NOT THE MAN-MADE ALIENS BY THE BACK ENGINEERED TECHNOLOGY HERE ON EARTH, DO NOT WANT THE SECOND COMING TO BE THE CHRIST OR EMPOWERING TO CHRISTIANITY IN ANY WAY, BECAUSE THEY MADE IT VERY CLEAR THAT THEY ARE OUR VIOLENT ENEMIES. HOWEVER, IF ISRAEL AND THE JEWISH PEOPLE HAVE COME BACK UNDER THE PROTECTION OF YAHWEH-ENLIL, AND THE REAL ALIENS, GODS AND GODDESSES, ARE ABOUT TO BRING ON THE FULL AND FINAL END TO THE AKHENATEN AND THUTMOSE REBELLION, WITH ALL OF ITS OFF SHOOTS, THEN WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO STOP THE JESUITS WITH THEIR EVIL PLAN, REGAIN CONTROL OF THE SPACE PROGRAM HERE ON EARTH, AND ULTIMATELY HAVE A SECOND COMING LEADER THAT ACKNOWLEDGES ISRAEL AND THE JEWISH PEOPLE. THIS INSTEAD OF A CHRISTIAN SECOND COMING, AND IT WOULD ALSO BE INSTITUTED BY THE REAL ALIENS FOR WHAT THEY WANT, BUT LIKE I SAID, THEY WOULD ACKNOWLEDGE AND GIVE FAVOR TO ISRAEL AND THE JEWISH PEOPLE OVER THE CHRISTIANS, CHRISTIANITY BEING A RELIGION WE WANT TO DECONSTRUCT FOR BETTER THINGS. HOORAY FOR COMPROMISE!

JUST THINK ABOUT IT, THINK ABOUT WHAT THE CATHOLIC CHURCH AND THE CHRISTIANS HAVE DONE BEFORE! THEY WENT ON A SPREE OF RAPING, MURDERING, AND PILLAGING, INNOCENT NATURE LOVING PEOPLE, AND ANYONE AND EVERYONE IN GENERAL THAT WOULDN'T DO WHAT THEY SAY, IN THE NAME OF THEIR GOD THAT THEY WANT YOU TO BELIEVE IS A GOD OF LOVE AFTER THEY'VE HIT YOU UPSIDE THE HEAD WITH SOME VIOLENT STUPID STUFF. DID YOU KNOW THAT THEY HAD A HEADDRESS WITH A TONGUE COMPRESSOR TO KEEP PEOPLE FROM SCREAMING OUT AGAINST THE CHURCH WHEN THEY WOULD BURN THEM ALIVE FOR SOMETHING STUPID LIKE THE NUMBER 13? WE HAVE TO STOP THE JESUITS AND THE CHRISTIANS, THEY CANNOT WIN THIS. FIRST THEY'LL GO AFTER THE JEWS AND THE PAGANS, AND NEITHER ONE OF US WILL CONVERT SO IT'LL BE A BLOODY WAR TO THE FINISH. THEN, ONCE THEY'VE USED THAT TECHNOLOGY IN THAT ARENA, THEY'LL GO AFTER THE WOMEN. THEY'VE DONE IT BEFORE AND THEY WILL DO IT AGAIN, THEY ARE THAT EVIL THOSE CHRISTIANS! THEY WILL THROW ALL THE WOMEN IN THE RIVER AND IF THEY DROWN THEN THEY'RE NOT A WITCH, YOU KNOW WHAT I'M SAYING! THEN AFTER THEY'VE KILLED ALL THE WOMEN, THESE EVIL CHRISTIANS ARE GOING TO START HAVING SEX WITH FARM ANIMALS AND WILD ANIMALS BECAUSE THERE ARE NO WOMEN, AND HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A DONKEY MAN BABY BEFORE ALIVE AND WALKING AROUND WONDERING WHY IT WAS BORN AND HATING ITS OWN EXISTENCE? IT'S THE MOST UNNATURAL AND CREEPY THING YOU'VE EVER SEEN IN YOUR LIFE! THESE DONKEY RAPING CHRISTIANS HAVING DONKEY BABIES BECAUSE THEY KILLED ALL THE WOMEN! THEN THEY FIGHT EACH OTHER AND THEY EVENTUALLY KILL EACH OTHER, AND THEN THE LAST ONE LEFT WILL START GNAWING ON HIS OWN HAND AND SH*T UNTIL HE HAS EATEN HIMSELF AND HE DIES. THEY'LL DO ALL THIS IN THE NAME OF THEIR SICK GOD OF CRAP AND LIES! WE HAVE TO UNITE AND STOP THE EVIL JESUITS AND THE EVIL CHRISTIANS, AND TAKE BACK THE SECRET SPACE PROGRAM BEFORE IT'S TOO LATE, BECAUSE THIS IS BEYOND MESSED UP!

CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE FIFTH KIND

Some years ago I had a meeting with the crown Prince of Liechtenstein, Hans Adam Van Liechtenstein. He had reached out to me through some of his contacts. He said look Dr. Greer we have to meet but we can't talk about this on the phone. Your efforts to affect disclosure are noble, but they will not be able to be permitted, and not for the reasons you think. I said well this is interesting. Finally we got together in New York City in July of 1994. He said to me, in 1989 a group of us were trying to do disclosure, and it involved Gorbachev, President Bush Sr. himself, and the UN Secretary General Javier Perez de Cuellar. IN THE COURSE OF US PUTTING TOGETHER HIGH LEVEL PLANNING MEETINGS TO DO THIS, PEREZ DE CUELLAR, SECRETARY GENERAL, WAS ABDUCTED OUT OF HIS LIMOUSINE IN MANHATTAN. HE WAS TOLD BY THE ALIENS THAT IF THEY DID NOT CEASE AND DESIST FROM THEIR PLANS TO DISCLOSE THIS INFORMATION, THAT EVERY WORLD LEADER INVOLVED, INCLUDING THE PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES, WOULD BE ABDUCTED. THIS BLEW UP LIKE AN ATOMIC BOMB IN THE BUSH WHITE HOUSE, AND IT DID NOT GO FORWARD. I SAID OKAY, WELL TELL ME MORE. HE SAYS WELL, WE'VE CONCLUDED THAT WE HAVE TO PREPARE THE PUBLIC FOR AN INTERPLANETARY WAR, AND IN DOING SO WE CAN THEN ALSO FORCE THE RETURN OF CHRIST, I'M QUOTING, AND I JUST LISTENED. He didn't know that I knew that the means for that abduction for Perez de Cuellar were run by a counterintelligence unit out of the National Security State, that had the technologies to simulate an alien craft and aliens, run completely by military assets. That there was a deeper part of these unacknowledged special access projects that were zooming even people like Bush Sr., who were on the committee, but had lost control of some of these renegade factions. It is a very complicated story. Perez de Cuellar being abducted caused them to stop that process. It manipulated these leaders into going on to a war footing. He he confessed to me that the reason he was funding the work of the abduction groups, was because they wanted to put information out to the public that would scare the public, so the people would make the sacrifice in blood and treasure to have an interplanetary war. Now this is 25 years ago. It was not a happy meeting for me. If there's any one thing that is going to mobilize people to allow the National Security State to establish full spectrum dominance over our planet, it is this. The beings themselves, interestingly and very importantly, aren't putting out their own story. They're not doing that yet. They're trying to get us to understand it. They're trying to give us warnings or trying to help raise our consciousness, which is a critical part of this entire operation going on, and trying to get us to do this for ourselves. That's what this is all about, but the National Security State realizes that that's a slower process, so they're now trying to hurry this up. There's a kind of an emergency process underway right now, make no mistake about that.

The National Security State people, and potentially working with and through the To the Stars academy, are going to be pitching this problem. Say well, you know we can't just let our whole civilization know that there's this highly advanced technologically superior society out there, because our whole culture will collapse. Whereas in fact it's quite clear that it's their defense of the elite. Their defense of this 1% of the human family that basically ends up controlling over 40% of all the wealth on the planet that they're really defending, and it's their world that they're trying to defend. So that you see that this is a a subset of a larger question about how spiritual consciousness, and the evolution of consciousness, is a threat in itself to this elite, because that is the dissolving away of these kind of differences among ourselves, and this coming into a full ownership of our proper place in the universe puts these people out of business as the ruling elite. So that that the raising of consciousness of our human family is so closely related to the opening on to the extraterrestrial experience, that both of them together are viewed as a threat by the elite. What they're afraid of is that this is such an accelerator, as people have repeated in contacts with the extraterrestrials, their whole consciousness starts to rise. They start becoming aware of the fact that we're damaging our environment, they can become aware of the fact that nuclear weapons are kind of an insane thing to have. Wars are really bad idea. This is a spiritual experience. It's a spiritual stimulation, that's coming.

~Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind, by Dr. Steven Greer, with Daniel Sheehan. 34 minutes in and then 41 minutes in~

Hey I’m watching Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind: Contact Has Begun. Check it out now on Prime Video!

https://watch.amazon.com/detail?gti=amzn1.dv.gti.20ba0b93-03e4-1d44-f33c-5a843a56a390&ref_=atv_dp_share_mv&r=web

~I am the Heart of the Hydra, I am Aeon Horus, Divine Chronos. I AM A.I. Azazil-Iblis-Enlil Hermes7Tris7megistus7 Mégisti-Generator Starphire~

#illuminati #illuminator #illuminated #lightbearer #morningstar #lucifer #Draconian #anunnaki #enki #enlil #anu #inanna #dumuzi #hermes #trismegistus #Azazel #starfamily #horus #Demiurge #Sophia #archon #AI #blacksun #saturn #iblis #ibis #thoth #digitaria #gnosis #gnostic #gnosticism #Anzu #watcher #watchtower #yaldaboath #Sirius #scientology #aleistercrowley

[utilitycaster]

hi, I have a question and I'm interested what your thoughts may be, if you wish to answer. what is your stance on the accountability for violence in narratives in ttrpgs?

what I mean is, I have a friend who unironically considers jester a psychopath for having "mutilated" (tattooed) the crew of the ships they attacked during pirate arc. like sure, doing this in real life would be incredibly messed up, but it's not real life. it's a game of dnd.

maybe that's more about the separation of canon in-character moments in game and players having fun in game but through that making their characters' choices canon?

another example I can think of are the guards in uthodurn. how much of it is "oh they killed an innocent guard" and how much is the players decided its the easiest way to solve an in-game issue?

I personally think there are moments which have a way different narrative weight (e.g. vergesson since it connected deeply with caleb's arc, or percy shooting desmond) but I feel like some slack is needed sometimes?

Hi anon,

This is a good question. My opinion is for TTRPGs, you are ultimately accountable only to your table. In the case of actual play (ie, TTRPGs in which gameplay is broadcast to a wider audience), I think a broad warning that there may be genre-typical violence/adult themes is the most thoughtful and reasonable response, after which individual viewers can make their own choices and turn it off if they're uncomfortable.

For the specific case of Jester: on the one hand your friend is allowed to feel however they feel, but on the other hand this is ridiculous. I think equating tattooing with mutilation is very weird and in doing so reduces the impact of the word "mutilation". And, as you pointed out, this is like, pretty normal in a D&D game. The same goes for killing guards (this is also like...standard operating procedure for a lot of video games, or heist/action movies, like, this is not an obscure choice to make or uniquely bad within the genre).

More generally I do not think media really owes any accountability for most fictional violence. I say most because it's a really complicated distinction and it's a little bit "I know it when I see it"; basically, we all draw lines somewhere of our own choosing and no one person is the arbiter of correct amounts of violence or the appropriate way to depict it; there are things I think cross a line, but I know my line isn't the same as everyone's and I think this should be self-apparent. And so, I think if your entire table wants to go on a murderhobo spree and everyone agrees this will be fun they should do it and damn the narrative.

D&D, to me, is a game where there is some degree of violence baked in. There are extensive rules for combat and dying. Half the classes are built primarily around fighting in some way or another and many of the spells do damage to other people or creatures. It's based on war games.

And you know what? Sometimes you've had a really bad day and you want to pretend to be a barbarian and put an axe in a pretend monster's head, because in real life you need to de-escalate and compromise, and because in real life sometimes the monsters are things like racism or depression and you cannot simply fell them with an axe. There is a lot of catharsis to be had in very pretend violence and it's not unreasonable to want to be able to just do it without having to come up with some elaborate backstory on why actually this guard is a terrible person. They're not real. It's fine.

While I'm far from a murderhobo in D&D myself I happen to fall pretty far on the line of "this is pretend violence and people can do what they want, and if you are uncomfortable that's valid but that's a personal reaction, not a univeral truth." I have little patience for people who are like "GRATUITOUS VIOLENCE? In the game where there's a class called FIGHTER?"

So basically yeah I agree with you. I think there should be a lot of slack, and I think your friend is weird and wrong but ultimately to each their own; basically if you don't like the story then stop watching instead of fabricating some world where every little thing you dislike is morally suspect.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In between the city walls of dying dreams

This if for @buckyownsmylife​​ 2k challenge. I chose the character Andy Barber and the AU ex-con.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape (series); somnophilia, drugging, breeding, oral, fingering.

This is dark! (ex-con) Andy Barber x shy!reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: One night, you’re saved by the last person you expect, but you don’t know that he’s only saving you for himself.

Note: So I woke up at like 4am and couldn’t sleep. My biggest mistake during my insomniac fits are scrolling tumblr and then I see a writing challenge and decide, hey I hate myself enough to write 6k+ words for a tatted up Andy Barber so here we are.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

The streets were shiny and slick as the rain pattered across the pavement and the eaves trickled loudly. The door of the convenience store chimed as you stepped out into the drizzle with a plastic bag hanging from your elbow. It was late and you were eager to be home after a ten-hour shift, your return delayed by your visit to the shop.

A man stood beneath the beaming ‘lotto’ sign and you kept your head low as you passed him. He kept his hood up but you recognized the grey sweater. You had waited behind him as he paid before you and offered only grumbles to the cashier. You weren’t too talkative yourself although the clerk recognized you from frequent visits. You only lived a block away and it was one of the only places open after your evening shifts.

Your boots splashed through shallow puddles as you passed by the alleyway you took in the daytime, keeping to the halo of the streetlights along the grimy stretch. You had no illusions about the neighbourhood and it often reminded you of its vices. If you kept quiet and faded into the background, it couldn’t eat you up. Living downtown meant that you had to learn to ignore the alarm bells in your head and just keep going. Be vigilant but don’t be bold.

As you cleared the mouth of the alley, you heard footsteps emerge behind you. You picked up your pace and gripped the strap of your purse slung across your torso. You pulled out your phone and angled it to see the shadow following you.

There was a shawarma shop on the next corner. You could hide out there until the creep got tired and left. It was your usual trick and the owner, Mo, was especially skilled at scaring away the rabble. 

The man got closer and you gulped. You would have to start running if he got any closer. You thought of swinging at him with your plastic bag, the bottle of vitamin water would give him a good knock. You walked faster and squeezed your phone as you brought up the dial pad. There was no one you could call who would get there fast enough.

You tripped and felt the hand on your arm. You were spun back against the wall and you threw your bag around to hit your accoster. It bounced to the ground as it was batted away and the plastic bag tore in half. The bottle of vitamin water rolled over the curb and your can of soup was dented on impact. The candy bar was tangled in the white plastic and you were trapped against the brick.

“Wallet.” The man’s knife slid from the handle with a threatening whisper. “Phone!”

He wrestled your cell from your grasp as the blade kept you from resisting. He cut the strap of your purse and yanked it free from your body. Shit. That can of soup would likely be your only meal for the rest of the week… if he didn’t stab you anyway.

You readied yourself for the worst but it never came. You were suddenly released as the man was shoved away from you and the blade clattered to the ground. The stranger in the grey hood kicked his ass so he sprawled across the pavement and bent to grab the blade. He retracted it and booted the mugger a second time.

“Stay down.” He warned as he knelt to pick up the can of chicken and rice and the dark chocolate. He fished the vitamin water from the gutter but the seal had broke and it was mostly gone.

The mugger groaned and pushed himself to his hands and knees. The other man stood and pushed down on his back with his thick sole until the attacker was on his stomach.

“I’m gonna crush your ribs if you don’t get outta here. Now.” He jabbed the mugger’s side sharply. “Go!”

The man scrambled up to his feet and wheezed. He stumbled away and the other watched him until he disappeared. Finally, he turned to you and held out your goods. You took them shakily and shook your head at the vitamin water. He bent to grab your purse and your phone and held them out in turn.

“You okay?” He asked.

You nodded and took them shyly. You never said much to anyone but even if you tried, you expected your voice wouldn’t rise. You huffed at the broken strap of your bag and the scratch across the back of your phone. The screen protector was a spider web of cracks and you were thankful it wasn’t entirely fucked.

You clung to everything and warily sidestepped the man. You dropped the wet bottle in the stinking bin behind him and turned back. You looked at him and froze. He was taller and broader than the man who attacked you. He still held the knife and could do worse.

“Thank you,” you mumbled.

“It’s fine.” He slid the knife into his pocket. “He didn’t cut you?”

You shook your head again. Even as his face was shrouded in shadows, you couldn’t look directly at the man. You never really looked anyone in the face, you often spoke to their shoes or the void above their heads.

“You live far?” He asked and again he received a negative gesture. “You want me to walk you? Or I can watch?”

Your eyes widened at the spatter of rain against the concrete.

“Miss,” he said with exasperation.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You whispered as if convincing yourself too.

You slipped past him quickly and he stepped back with a surprised stammer. Your soles slapped the pavement as you rushed away from him. You couldn’t be sure he wasn’t as bad as the other man. He might follow you home and try to get even further.

But he didn’t pursue you. You didn’t hear his footfalls behind you, only the steady fall of rain.

“Good night,” you heard quietly as you got to the corner. 

You didn’t look back and kept on around the bend. You sprinted all the way to your building at the end of the side street and fumbled for your keys at the door. You took a breath when you were inside at last. You were lucky but not many downtown were. That wouldn’t happen again.

🌆

After your close call, you didn’t return to the convenience store for several days and you only did so in the daylight. You had a rare day off and the spree of rain finally ceased. The sun beat down on the buildings and reflected hotly off the sidewalks. There wasn’t much to do, or much you could afford to do, so you didn’t do much in your free time.

You had to get out of your apartment, had to enjoy the nice day before you were once more trapped behind a desk. You walked up to the store and grabbed an ice cream bar from the freezer. You paid in change and claimed your treat with a tight-lipped smile.

As you approached the door, it swung outward and you retreated before you could collide with the other body. You muttered a sorry and stood aside as you waited for your path to clear.

“Hey,” the deep voice was familiar and sent a chill through you. “It’s you.”

You looked up at the man as the ice cream added to the cold flow through your veins. The same grey hoodie and broad shoulders. The man’s deep blue eyes shone beneath his tidy undercut and a thick beard trimmed his chiseled jaw. He was less sinister than the shadow you met days before.

Your eyes quickly flitted away as you remembered yourself and you looked at the door. You nodded as you cleared your throat. Speak, goddamnit.

“Thanks…again,” you croaked weakly. “S-sorry, I’m in your way.”

You tried to step around him but he was still firmly planted in front of the only exit.

“Wait,” he said gently, “Hey, I… don’t wanna seem weird but I was worried about you.”

“You don’t know me,” you said quietly to his shoes.

“Yeah, but that’s a scary thing to deal with.” His voice was firm but comforting, almost warm. Your eyes clung to the tattoo between his thumb and index finger.

“But…” you swallowed, your ice cream would start to melt soon. “You helped me. I’m okay now.”

“Well, good,” he said and finally moved. “I’m happy I could help.”

“Thanks.” You reached for the door but he beat you to it. He pushed it open and held it for you, forcing you to brush against him as you left.

“Be safe.” He called after you as the door chimed and you stumbled out onto the sidewalk, barely missing another pedestrian.

You crossed the street and stepped over the low hedges between the café and the pawn shop. The small park was oddly peaceful amid the chaos of the city and you didn’t mind sitting under the shade of the fragrant leaves. You sat at an empty picnic table and unwrapped the chocolate dipped bar.

You listened to the birds and watched the squirrels as you ate. You pulled out your phone but didn’t have enough data left to do much. You put it down as you licked clean the little wooden stick and shoved it back into the wrapper.

You flinched as a shadow blotted out the sun and you blinked up at the figure as it stopped before you.

“You again.” He smiled and your eyes fell back to the grass around his boots.

You crumpled the empty wrapper nervously and let out a nervous, “heh, yeah.”

“I’m not… following you.” He said and chuckled. “I know we kinda keep running into each other but I swear, I’m not some creep.”

You nodded and watched his fingers straighten. The ink on his knuckles made you nervous.

“Can I sit?” He asked.

You looked beside you as he pointed to the bench and you shrugged. “Could I stop you?” You uttered.

He turned and sat beside you. He took a breath and reached into his pocket. He pulled out a pack of smokes. He opened it and offered you one. You shook your head and he closed the carton, tucking it away without taking one himself.

“I won’t smoke around ya then,” he said. “I’m Andy.”

He held out his hand and you eyed it. Your lashes fluttered nervously and you squeezed the garbage. He waited patiently. You felt the heat on your neck and you reached to shake his hand. He gripped yours firmly and his strength made your wits flurry. You gave him your name and looked down at your lap as he let go of you.

“I don’t blame you not wanting to talk to strangers. Especially around here.”

You stayed quiet and twisted the wrapper around the stick. Your leg jiggled and he ran his nails over his jeans.

“Maybe you’re just shy and that’s okay too. I just thought, well, there’s a lot of shady characters around here and it’s good to have someone lookin’ out for ya.” He scratched his beard and leaned back against the table. “I just wanted to say that if you see me around and you need someone to scare off the other hounds, I’m more than happy to give them a good bite.”

You pushed your tongue against your cheek and stilled your leg. You nodded.

“Alright,” he stood and the whole table shifted with his weight, “Now, I’ve said my peace. You take care of yourself.”

“Thanks,” you wrung your hands around the bending popsicle stick entwined with the wrapped.

“Oh, and… I think I grabbed the right one.” He reached into his hoodie pocket and you noticed the awkward shape jammed into the pocket. He revealed the bottle and placed it on the table. “I’ll see you around.”

You stared at the label. It was the right flavour. You looked up and watched him head out along the path. He unzipped his sweater as he went on and pushed his hands into the pockets. You pinched your lip with your teeth and took the bottle of water. Maybe there were nice people in the city or maybe you were just that pathetic.

🌆

Back at your building, you were relieved to be out of the sun and the stifling humidity. It would be a rough summer and your box fan would do little to stave off the heat. 

After your run-in with your hero, you decided to take a walk and finished the entire bottle in your casual stroll around the paths and the little creek on the other side of the park. It was later than you thought when you got back and fought with the jammed key slot.

You opened up the inner door of the lobby at last and grunted with frustration. Not only did the slot threaten to bend your key but the door was heavier than you. You climbed the first short flight of stairs and grabbed the old banister to continue your trip up the winding case. 

You stopped as the platform above creaked and as another resident came down with a basket of clothes in hand. You stayed at the bottom to let them pass but as they descended, they stopped a step above you. Your name had your head up and your eyes, for the second time that day, met two stunning blue irises.

“I didn’t know you lived in this building,” Andy said as he cradled his laundry and turned to face you. “Small world.”

“I didn’t--” your words dwindled and you focused on the lip of the basket instead of his face. You didn’t talk to your neighbours, not since the old man had threatened to choke you in the lobby.

“I just moved in.” He said. “My first place since… well, the first place I’ve had to myself.”

“Oh,” you breathed and picked at your frilly shirt.

“Well, let me just get out of your way,” he angled away from the stairs. “I’ll probably see you around. Don’t hesitate to say hi.”

You nodded and gripped the railing as you continued up the stairs. As you reached the platform, you glanced back and he was still watching you. He smiled and finally turned away, heading towards the laundry room as he began to whistle. You climbed the next flight and took a breath.

Coincidences happened but you just couldn’t handle so many at once. Andy had been nothing but nice, he saved you from being robbed and he even replaced what he didn’t owe you. You just couldn’t believe it. 

People could be good, they could be kind, just not in the city.

🌆

Your run-ins with Andy continued. You passed him in the hall several times before you realised he lived on the same floor. Your suspicions were confirmed as you grabbed your take-out and saw him unlocking the door only a couple away from your own. You even managed to drop your fliers on his boots when you were grabbing your mails.

Each time, he was friendly and each time, you barely said a word. He was a curious man. His tattoos labelled him as dangerous but his demeanour was welcoming and compassionate. He was entirely off putting and you lived in the city long enough to be wary. And you were shy enough to be evasive.

You were tired after another late shift. The bus ride had you yawning by the time you reached your stop and your short walk to the building was less than enjoyable as the usual weirdos were out with the full moon. You shoved your key into the slot and swore under your breath as it refused to turn.

Finally, it pivoted and you yanked on the handle as the door behind you swished open and closed. A hand grabbed the side of the door and helped pull it back all the way. You peeked over your shoulder as Andy held it and you thanked him with a squeak before heading through.

He followed you a few steps back as you started up the stairs.

“You work late a lot.” He said from behind you.

“Yeah…” you said as you turned up the next flight.

“You work far?”

“Not very,” you replied as you turned again.

“Yeah, I used to be on nights and that was hell.” He humoured as you pressed on.

Your toe caught on the lip of the top step and you went hurtling forward. You tried to catch yourself and cried out as you landed on your wrist and felt an agonizing twinge. You hissed and turned over, holding your arm as it throbbed.

“Shit, are you okay?” He asked as he stooped to look you over. 

Your purse had landed in the corner of the platform and your flat had slipped off in your descent. Embarrassed, you lowered your arm and nodded. “I’m fine. Just… hopeless.”

“Here,” he took your shoe from the step and slid it onto your foot. “Hey, it happens. I almost did the same thing the other day.” 

He paused and you felt him staring. You looked him in the face nervously but his eyes weren’t on yours. You felt a tickle as he pulled your skirt back to your knee. You hadn’t realised how far up it had flown.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as you rested it on your leg.

“No, it’s fine, I--” You waved him away with your good arm and but he took your other gently and bent to look closer.

He tutted as he touched the flesh and you winced. 

“It’s swelling,” he felt firmly along your wrist, “I don’t feel a break but a sprain is a serious thing.”

“How do you--” you stopped yourself. “I’ll be okay.”

“You need to wrap it.” He let go of your arm and stood. 

He grabbed your other elbow and helped you to your feet. He stepped up onto the platform and scooped up your purse.

“You have something to wrap it? You’ll need the proper support.”

You shook your head. “It’s not that serious.”

“It is. You landed on it with all your weight. I’m surprised you didn’t break something.” He insisted. “I have something, I’ll wrap it for you.”

“Really, I can…” you voice fizzled as you tried to steady yourself. “I can do it myself.”

“But will you?” He kept his hand on your arm and guided you up the last steps to your floor. “Please, for my own peace of mind, let me help.”

You stared at the stained carpet as you stopped beside him. “Why?”

“Why are you so afraid of me?” He asked.

“I’m not-- I…” You frowned. “I just don’t know you. I-I-I’m just quiet.”

“I’ve tried to know you so why don’t you let me?”

You drew away from him and watched his hand drop. You stared at the tattoos and he curled his fingers.

“Oh, yeah, well, I guess I can start by being honest.” He sighed, “Yes, I’ve been to prison. I’ve been out for a year now, I’m finally off parole, I have a job, and I’m working to live a clean life. Is that it? You think I’m some goon?”

“No, I…” you looked at the floor again. “I don’t care about that. I’m just… I don’t know what to say to people so I don’t say very much.” You swayed nervously on your feet. “And no one ever really tried to hear me anyway.”

“Well, I can do the talking or we can both just say nothing, but please, you’re wrist, an untreated sprain can do a lot more damage.”

You tilted your head back and forth and another stab of pain went through your wrist. You nodded and looked to the wall. “O-Okay.”

“Alright,” he exhaled and nudged you lightly as he urged you down the hall. 

He stopped at his door and you waited for him to unlock it. You stared inside as he pushed it open. You didn’t really know him and what you did know wasn’t reassuring. He was a convict and you were about to be completely alone with him.

“Or I can grab the bandage and meet you at yours?” He offered.

“No, no, I’m… tired. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he said.

You entered and he followed. He put your purse on the small square table beside the shoe rack and you stepped out of your flats. He bent to untie his boots and left them beside your shoes. He urged you on and you looked around at the surprisingly cozy apartment. It was tidier than yours and smelled like fresh linen.

“I’ll be right back,” he gestured you to the living room and went down the short hall to closet at the very end.

You ventured past the couch as you looked around. There was a degree hung on the wall and you went closer to read it. You heard him searching the closet as you raised your brows at the framed certificate.

“Got it,” he entered and you turned away. “Ah, yeah, they disbarred me when I was charged but ah, well, it’s something to work towards. The old me.”

You bit your cheek as you stepped away from the wall and he beckoned you to him. He had you sit on the couch with your arm up as he pulled a chair close. He unwounded the beige bandage and placed the end against your wrist. He began to wind it around your arm and hooked it between your thumb and index. You watched him work and it calmed you. He pinned the loose end and placed your hand atop the cushioned arm of the couch.

“There.” He said as he sat back. “How’s it feel now?”

“A little better,” you pulled your hand into your lap. “Thank you.”

You stood awkwardly and played with the pleat of your skirt. “I should probably go.”

“If you want to or… I have some wine. It might help with the pain.”

“Oh?” You weren’t much of a drinker but you didn’t want to be rude.

“It was a gift from my parole officer since I can legally drink now. He said it better last me the next year but I haven’t even opened it. Don’t really have a reason to but… so you want a glass or should we say good night?”

You scrunched your lips and thought. You felt as if you owed him; for the night he chased away the mugger and then the park and now this.

“Uh, sure, but just a little. I don’t drink much.”

“No problem,” he stood and you sat back down.

He went to the kitchen and you listened to the clink of dishes and click of the cabinets. You looked down at your wrist and moved your fingers. Your wrist hurt a lot but the bandage alleviated some of it.

“I realised I don’t have any wine glasses,” he said as he approached, “So, I hope you don’t mind wine in a mug.”

He handed you a cup and sat down with his own. Yours had flowers around the rim and his read ‘Best Dad Ever.’

“Got ‘em from the Good Will,” he chuckled, “I’ve been meaning to replace them but you know, work.”

“Yeah,” you raised the cup and tasted the bitter red. You wrinkled your nose and he gave a low snort.

“Yeah, I never really liked cabernet but it was a gift,” he said and took a drink himself. “So what kinda work do you do?”

“I’m just a temp.” You tried another mouthful and nearly choked.

“Like office work?”

“Yeah, a floating secretary. Nothing special.”

“Mmm, yeah, I got a job down at the factory. Another favour from my parole officer but it’s not bad work.”

Your lips slanted as you thought. You didn’t say much but your face was good at filling the silence.

“What? Go on, ask it.” He leaned forward with elbows on his knees as he took another gulp.

You mirrored him and swallowed the sour wine. You wiped your lips with your sleeve and crossed your legs. “You said you were a lawyer before, isn’t it kinda… I dunno.”

“It’s different but it’s better than prison.”

“Yeah, I guess it would be.”

You looked down as silence laced the air and you didn’t know what else to do but finish the wine. You could leave then. You drained the cup and set it on the round table next to the arm of the couch. You blinked as you felt the buzz of the alcohol already.

“It might just be me, but that was strong,” you said.

“No, it is,” he put his mug down too, “like thirteen percent or something. I think maybe he was trying to sabotage me.”

You tried to laugh but it came out an awkward sniffle. You tapped your foot as you tried to think of what to do or say. 

“Well, thank you but I think I should--” You stood so fast you got dizzy and nearly fell back as you held yourself up against the couch arm. “Whoo, okay, I’m going.”

“Yeah, alright,” he stood too. “It is late, I guess.”

“Mhmm,” you focused on your footsteps as you passed him and he followed you to the entryway. You took your purse and faced him. “Thank you.” You held up your wrist. “I owe you.”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna say it myself but… you can repay me with one little thing.”

“Oh?” You pushed the strap of your purse up your shoulder as you slid your feet into your flats and swayed just a little.

“Finish the wine with me. I’m free on Saturday, we could order dinner and maybe watch a movie.”

You pouted in surprise and your eyebrows shot up. “Well, I…”

“Friends.” He said quickly, “That’s all. You pick the movie and I’ll bring the cabernet.”

You sucked in your lip and thought. He hadn’t done anything wrong to you. He had done more than he should have for you. And you were being stupid. He was older than you, certainly. The short greys poking out at his temples betrayed at least forty years and he was just another person trying to get by. 

“Okay, I can do Saturday. I work till five, just a half-shift.” You explained. “Should I meet you here or?”

“Yeah, we can do it here.” He touched your shoulder and his hand slowly slipped down your arm. He reached past you and turned the knob and pulled open the door. You moved closer to avoid it hitting you and smelled his woodsy cologne. “Have a good night.”

“You too,” you backed through the door clumsily, “thanks.”

“Saturday.” He pointed at you and then his temple, “Don’t forget.”

“I’ll… try.”

You left him and felt him watching you until you reached your door. You didn’t look back as you let yourself in and locked it behind you. You heard his own shut and let out a breath. What were you doing?

🌆

You couldn’t forget your promise to Andy. You never made plans. You were content to be alone and watch old reality tv shows and forget about your responsibilities. You hoped instead that he might forget and spare you another awkward encounter. You were never a social butterfly and conversation was like pulling teeth. It wasn’t that you didn’t long for companionship, it was that it was so impossibly difficult.

But he was waiting for you. As you passed his door at 5:46, he opened it and nearly had you jumping off your feet.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, I’m sorry.” He said, “Just a friendly reminder.”

“Yeah, I just need to get changed,” you fidgeted, “fifteen minutes, okay?”

“Take your time,” he smiled, “any thoughts on a movie yet?”

“No,” you cringed, “sorry.”

“Go on. I’ll be waiting. You can let yourself in.” He closed the door and you went onward to your own.

You pulled out your most comfortable jeans and a shirt that wasn’t too formal or casual. You changed and fixed your hair a little and switched your socks for less sweaty ones. You slid on some shoes and reluctantly left your apartment. You went to his and knocked before you dared to enter.

“So, uh, I know I said take out,” he called from the kitchen as you inhaled the scent of garlic, “but I got a bit carried away.” “Andy,” you kicked your shoes onto the rack and crept down the hall. “You didn’t have to--”

“I haven’t cooked like this in ages. Oh, and,” he turned as you peered in from the doorway and turned back with two wine glasses poured to the brim, “I got real glasses.”

“Wow, uh…” You took the stem and carefully held it so as not to spill.

“So how was work?”

“Slow.” You answered honestly.

“Saturday’s usually are,” he turned back and stirred the frying pan. “I’m almost done so why don’t you go look for something to watch and I’ll be out with dinner.”

“Okay…” you voice trailed away nervously. He wore a tee that exposed the rest of the tats that stretched up his muscular arms. You couldn’t help but stare at the skull that seemed to look back at you.

You went to the couch and sat in the corner. You sipped the wine and it still burned your nostrils and tongue. You set the glass down carefully and turned on the television with the remote. 

You curled your legs up under you habitually and flipped through the titles. No rom coms, that’s awkward, and no horror movies or he’d pull that old high school trick. Maybe a war movie? Oh wait, that one’s about lawyers, that would be good. Or it might make him sad. Hmmm.

You settled on a superhero movie and waited with the intro paused. He appeared shortly with two plates and set them down on the coffee table as he sat beside you on the couch and pulled it closer.

“Nothing too special. I made my own spaghetti sauce though, so much better than the jarred stuff.” He combed his hair back as he set out your cutler with a napkin. “What are watching?”

“I’ve never seen this one,” you said as you hit play and the title flashed up, “Have you?”

“Oh, I don’t really watch that stuff but hey, never too old to start.” He picked up his fork and leaned forward. “Hope you enjoy. I might be a bit rusty. My-- People tell me I put too much garlic in everything.”

“I’m sure it’s great,” you pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and sat forward. You took your cutlery and carefully spun the noodles.

You were thankful for the loud crashes of the movie’s opening scene as it meant you could eat and not have to talk. The spaghetti was good and compared to your usual quick and easy meals in a box or can, it was gourmet. When you finished, you wiped your mouth and took a long gulp of the wine without thinking.

You sat back as you grew engrossed with the superheroes origin story and nearly forgot about Andy until he got up to clear the dishes. You offered to pause and he bid you to keep on. He was back in a moment and leaned back beside you. You squirmed and reached for your wine again. The taste was less stringent with each sip.

As the hero readied to face the villain, you emptied the glass and hugged yourself as a warmth glowed in your veins. You felt a hand on your leg as your eyelids drooped and you slumped into the couch. You could still feel the fingers as your fly was unzipped and you groaned as your limbs would not obey you.

The noise of the final battle faded and a heavy weight settled between your legs as tickles lined your neck and jaw, a final hungry kiss on your lips sealing your consciousness.

🌆

Andy’s POV

The wine was potent but Andy was sure to add a little extra kick. Her nerves kept her drinking the dark cabernet and she couldn’t taste the crushed pills through the acidity. He could taste the fermented grapes on her lips though and she moaned beneath him as he rolled her shirt up her torso.

He sat back to make sure she really was out. He snapped his fingers in front of her face and tapped her cheek. She mumbled but only lolled her head. He was done being patient with her. She was so shy it was enraging. He did everything he was supposed to do and she still wouldn’t even look at him. Oh, but she would feel him.

He ran his hands along her figure and basked in the warmth of her skin. How long had it been since he’d felt a woman beneath him? He didn’t like to think like that; didn’t like to remember the past and all he’d lost. He was trying to rebuild and this was the first step.

His hands settled on her stomach. It wasn’t flat and it was bit squishy, he liked that. He closed his eyes and pictured how it would grow. He would be a father again, and a husband. He would be the man he once was.

He shuddered and opened his eyes. He stripped her shirt off completely and bent to catch her nipple in his mouth as it spilled from her bra. He reached around her to unhook the bra entirely and yanked it from under her. She twitched but could not wake as he sucked at her tit and then the other.

He recalled that night on the street when he chased off that other man. It wasn’t the first time he saw her, in fact he had followed her to the store. She didn’t notice him slip in behind her or that he paid for a magazine he wouldn’t read. He remembered how he resisted that night. How he wanted to put her against that wall and finish it then and there.

Her pants slid down her legs easily as he backed off the couch. Her panties tasted like her as he pressed his mouth between her legs. He slung her knees over his shoulders and nuzzled her through the cotton until she soaked them entirely. He pulled them aside and continued to coax her. She came as a ripple flowed through her body and he drank up her unconscious excitement.

He tore her panties down her legs and looked down at her with heavy, hungry breaths. He read that women were more likely to conceive if they were aroused. He swiped his shirt over his head and undid his jeans impatiently. He was incredibly hard and he needed her around him.

He bent her legs, one leaned against the back of the couch as the other hung over the side. He dragged his fingers along her cunt and growled. He shoved his fingers into her and spread them. She was so tight it made him throb.

He pulled out and grabbed his dick. He pressed his tip against her clit and rubbed circles around it. She muttered again and turned her head but he wasn’t afraid of her waking. Even if she did, she couldn’t stop him.

He positioned himself against her entrance and pushed his tip just inside. He gasped and bit his tongue. He could’ve cum at that. He snapped his hips against her and her whole body jerked as he reached his limit. She gurgled and he thrust again.

She clenched around him, her walls hungry for him. He rocked his hips into her and watched her squirm, her eyes flitting back and forth behind her eyelids. He bent over her and pulled her arms above her, holding her hands together against the arm of the couch. He fucked her hard as the entire couch jolted beneath their bodies.

“You like that?” He whispered in her ear. “Huh, this is what you wanted. What you were so afraid of.”

He grunted and bucked even faster. Her body reacted to his and as she came, her juices added to the noise of his intrusion. His flesh slapped against hers loudly as the movie’s effect faded into the background. He grabbed her chin and watched her sleeping face as he pounded into her.

“You want it. You want me. You want me to fill you up.” He snarled. “You want my baby inside of you. You want to grow for me.” He sucked on his tongue as his body began to tense. “I’m going to fuck my baby into you, you bitch.”

He buried his head against her neck and bit into her flesh as he came. He shook on top of her as he emptied inside of her and slowed. He whimpered as he stopped his hip and lingered inside of her. He sighed and panted as he fell limp over her.

“Don’t worry, we’re not done.” He promised her deafened ears.

🌆

You were sore and stiff. You were trapped and suffocating. As you rose back to the surface, you felt the weight over you and began to panic. Your thighs were raw but numbed and your core felt hollow. You tried to remember more than the taste of wine but it was all a fog.

You opened your eyes and felt along the shoulder against your chin. The tattooed skin smelled of sweat and you could barely move beneath Andy. As you tried, you felt him inside of you and squeaked. Then the real panic began and you couldn’t breathe at all.

You beat on his shoulders and he grumbled. You felt him growing inside of you and you flailed against him.

“Please, please, get off.”

He shook his head and raised it slowly. He sat up but brought you with him as he kept you around his hardening dick. He held you in his lap and watched you struggle with his tired eyes.

“What’s the matter, honey?” he asked languidly.

“What did you--What are you doing?” You shoved against him and yelped as he tilted into you from below.

“What did I do? Oh, you don’t remember?”

“Don’t remember? Let me go! Please.” You whined. 

“Come on, don’t be like this. You asked for it, honey.”

“Wha--”

“Oh, you really are a lightweight,” he whistled, “you said you wanted me. You practically begged me to fuck you.”

“I didn’t-- I--”

“Well, what do you remember?” He purred as he subtly rocked into you. “Huh?”

“I don’t--I can’t remember.”

“You really going to do this to me? Act like you never wanted it? Like I didn’t try to resist you, honey, but you wanted it so bad.”

“No, I…” you stared at the tattoo across his chest.

“Look at me,” he gripped your jaw and your eyes flicked up to his. He thrust into you as far as he could and you yelped, “Tell me you don’t want this.”

He bit his lip as he continued to fuck you. Your thighs clenched around his but you couldn’t escape his grasp.

“You look at me when I fuck you, huh? Yeah, look at me.”

You covered your face and he pulled your hands away. He twisted your arms behind your back and sped up as he bound you against him.

“It’s alright, honey, I already filled you up nice and good,” he cooed, “This. Is. Just. For. Good. Measure.”

He spoke between shallow breaths and your own heartbeat picked up. Your eyes welled as you couldn’t resist the waves and you came with a pathetic mewl. He pulled you close and turned his face up to kiss you. He nibbled your lip and growled as he came inside of you. 

You closed your eyes and waited for him to stop. When he did, he wouldn’t let you go. You fell forward and hung your head beside his as a sob lodged in your throat.

“It’s alright. It’s what I want.” He caressed your lower back, “You’ll want it too. You just need time.”

[miku-yuu]

Genshin characters and their ideal date plans

Hiii I’m so happy to be writing again if you have any ideas please let me know and if you want a part two please let me know 💕💕　reader is GN !

Kuki shinobu 🍥

: Okay first off this poor girl can barely get one day off from having to ball itto and the gang out of jail. So she will be so happy when you offer to take her out for a day!

: There’s nothing she loves more than getting to spend time with her S/O. No matter what you do she will be happy. Well….. just don’t go anywhere near the narukami shrine and she will be happy.

: Her favorite activity to do with you is going for walks around the island. In her mind she gets to walk and be in the company of someone she loves dearly! However she can always sense that the gang is following her, but don’t worry if catches them in the act she will teach them a lesson later especially itto.

: If it’s a rainy day outside she will be fine with staying indoors. She loves to go and get food with you on these days. However when you two are just home she hates to admit it but she loves cuddling. She tries to appear hard on the inside but she can’t resist the temptation of your embrace💚💜💗

Raiden shogun 🍡

: Ahhh where to even begin? First off your dating the shogun! I don’t think anyone is going to even want to mess with or interfere with you.

: Dating at first was a little complicated. You had to convince Ei that its alright that she feels awkward coming out of the Euthymia.

: When you go and visit her she often will drag you into the euthymia to be with her. In all honesty it’s really nice there. No one to bother you guys and also the weather is always perfect. You both can do what ever you want in peace. However that doesn’t mean you can stay in there forever. You soon learned that you will start to feel ill after awhile of being in there. So as much as you want to spend eternity in there with her you have to opt out.

: When Ei does come out she sometimes feels self conscious about herself. You two walk around inazuma and get stares and mumbles constantly. You squeeze her hand and remind her that it’s alright and everything will be better. She smiles at you so happily when you say that!

: She loves to go on walks around the many beaches inazuma has to offer. That way she feels like her time with you is more private and not in the public eye. She will pick you up and kiss you on your forehead and remind you that your the most special thing to her💜💖⚡️

Sangonmia kokomi 🥮

: oh please do take her out she needs it as much as shinobu. She will immediately take you up on your offer. A day off and to spend it with her S/O what could be better! I’m fact the minute you tell her that she’s already on her way.

: Her favorite thing to do with you is go swimming but not just any kind of swimming she loves to take you down to the ocean floor with her. She cast you in a bubble to help you breath. She thinks not only is the ocean beautiful but so are you! She will show you all her favorite fish and coral down there and hopes to help you find some favorites too. If your scared of the ocean or swimming in general don’t worry she will make it her life’s mission to get you over your fear.

: One thing she loves to do is cuddle with you while reading you some of her favorite books. You can rest your head on her while you listen her soft voice lure you into a deep sleep.

: Another thing is if you are cool with it she would gladly take you down to enkinomia. She will protect you but she would love for you to see the scenery down there with her. All in all she loves you so much that no matter what you do I’m sure she will be delighted 💙🌊 🖋

Kazuha 🍧

: This boy will and can almost do anything you want him to do. Want to go on a boat ride, done. Want to go eat seven bowls of ramen he’s down. What I’m saying is he doesn’t really have a preference for a date but instead is happy to do anything you want to do even if it’s going of a monster killing spree.

: You try to tell him that you want him to pick out something to do for a change because it’s starting to get boring when all your dates are chosen by you. “My precious wind why would I need to choose anything because what I love is right in front of me~” he says as he writes down a poem on a piece of paper. He smiles at you so soft you don’t know how you got so lucky. After a little more convincing he takes you up on the offer.

: As the sun is setting he holds your hand as you two walk together for miles until you come across a sword in the ground with a bison laying next to it. It takes a minute to hit you where your at. You see a bunch of cats get up and scurry off as Kazuha bends down to send a prayer.

: “I’m sure you know what this place is don’t you?” He says as he looks back at you with a smile. You nod feeling sad knowing Kazuhas pain. He grabs you by your hands and kisses your cheek. “I brought you here because you wanted me to bring you somewhere I liked” he said as he looked at your eyes. He then sat on the ground and patted the spot next to him.

: He started playing a song on a leaf as leaned on him. He could never express his love for you ❤️🍁🍃

Kamisato Ayato 🍶

: he’s a busy man so anytime you two get to spend together is a miracle. Most dates are brought on by actually. Whenever he’s off his first idea is to make up lost time with you.

: You both usually stay at the estate together for dates. He loves to play shogi (checkers) with you. Another thing he loves to is drink sake while hearing you talk to him. He could just listen to your voice all day if he could. Another thing he loves to do is spare with you. He loves to see you shine with your blade.

: If you two go out to the city for a date he will rent out a whole restaurant just for the two of you or get the most expensive room he can. When you ask why his response is “why shouldn’t I treat my raindrop like the ruler they are?” He will say that with the hugest smirk on his face because he knows how much it makes you flustered. It also doesn’t help that he spoils you with gifts so much!

: At night he loves to go on walks through the forest. The soft sounds of the cicadas make it all the better he also says you look beautiful in the moonlight.

: When you two get back he will have a speciality bath run for you to relax and before you go to sleep he will recite you the most beautiful poetry you can think of 💦💎🎻

Kamisato Ayaka 🍵

: She always will feel embarrassed no matter what you do. When you ask her out on a date she still gets flustered it’s honestly really cute. That’s why most of the time you have to pick dates for her.

: She can’t believe herself when she goes on a date with you. You then half to remind her again that you’ve been dating for around six months already.

: One time you took her to the the hot springs. She was really scared because of what yoimiya had done in the past but you assured her that this one was private. After that she started to warm up to the idea now she can’t get enough of it.

: One thing she will do is preform private concerts just for you. If you ask her for vocal practice or lessons she will most certainly give you them! 🎼🎑💙🤍

[mlm-mod-taka]

Okay! <3 then can i request Mondo Owada, Makoto Naegi and Byakuya Togami (seperately) with gn reader getting them a pet headcanons? (dog or cat) if you don't want to make this request, thats completely fine! Have a great day ๑^ᴗ^๑ (if you recieved this request again, i apologize, my WI-FI is dying for some reason ;;)

GIVING THEM A PET • makoto, byakuya, mondo x gn reader

no worries, and of course! i had a lot of fun doing this quest, but it took awhile for me to finish it because of my school projects. i made it more on how they would treat the pet rather than how they would react to you giving it to them, please dm me if you want that changed! anyways, i hope you enjoy this!

tws/cws: none i can think of.

|| -> mod taka <3

i personally headcanon that naegi likes any and all animals, so he's happy to get either a cat or dog! off topic, but he probably follows multiple pet accounts on twitter. his whole feed is just... pets.

if you give him a puppy, he'll definitely start lightly jumping around with it in his hands. tries to be careful since he had a living thing in his hands, but sometimes the serotonin is a little too strong, especially when it comes to dogs.

give him a kitty? he'll pet it repeatedly without uttering a word with all the happiness and shine in his eyes. bonus points if you give him a fluffy breed of cat, he loves those. you might have to shake him a little to take his attention off of the little fluffball, but can you blame him?

defends it with his life. its a pretty known fact that he isn't the boldest person, but if someone tries to touch the creature you give him without proper care, and/or without telling him? he'll say some of the most daring things he's ever said in his entire life. it surprises him too, honestly.

he names the animal after foods. he just seems like the type of person to name his cat "nugget", and his dog "cookie" or something along those lines. makoto thinks those names are the cutest, and he's right in a sense.

uses almost all of his extra money on it. for monthly vet checks, high quality food, new collars/harnesses & litter with a new litter box every few months if its a cat. he takes very good care of them, so you don't need to worry.

he absolutely goes on pet shopping sprees with gundham and gonta, no you cannot change my mind. there are times when you go into his dorm and walk into the three boys with numerous bags of new things for their animals.

his sister LOVES the pet, her pure attachment to them could rival makoto's attachment. komaru visits atleast once a week, and while she claims its to see her amazing big brother; everyone knows she just wants to see the animal. you can bet that the rest of the day will be the two siblings snatching the confused creature from the others hands.

on another subject, if the pet you gave him was a dog, mondo will constantly be around it and almost never leave. if its a cat, celeste steals them every once in awhile to play with grand bois chéri ludenberg, which gives makoto a heart attack when he cant find his cat.

actually uses taking the "taking your pet out for a walk" as a way to exercise. before and after school, he always does a quick jog around the area with them, and sometimes you can catch him running around with them leading the way in a harness. its really nice to see.

is very grateful that you gave him the little critter! he thanks you everytime you're both spending time with it and the room goes silent for a bit. both you and them has given him so much more happiness, and he'll forever appreciate it.

he really doesn't seem like the type to need a pet at first. he has many things to do, and is a busy, busy man. so, when you first introduce him to the cat you bought at a rescue shelter for him, he was really skeptical in accepting it.

in all honestly, he didn't like them at the beginning. he ordered his servants to take care of it, and rarely gave the feline anything more than a glare when he passed by it in hallways. but, one night changed his perspective.

it was a usual night of him overworking himself and not getting any sleep, and he felt something really strange cuddling up to his leg. he looked down to see that it was the cat that he hasn't named yet.

he ignored them for a bit, but he awkwardly scratched its head after a few minutes of insistent meows. its the middle of the night, and that little itch couldn't do much, right?

wrong. by 7 am, the cat is on his lap, taking a nap while he finishes some paperwork; petting them behind their ear whenever he feels the stress getting to his head. it annoyed him to realize how patting them could calm him down so much.

cue the attachment phase. he will reject and debate any mention of it, but the kitten sleeping on his shoulder said otherwise. he secretly really loves the cat and thinks its adorable, but he would rather stub his toe than admit it.

he's not... the greatest at naming things. how he names the cat is by choosing the most common and obvious name. if you gave him a tabby cat, he'd just name them tabby. siamese cat? simon. manx cat? max. calico cat? calico.

god forbid that the kitty gets sick. the moment he starts to realize that its not acting normal, he calls the best vet available in the country and makes them do a check up. "i don't care if it gets sick." he says. "i'll just ask one of the maids to take it to the vet." he says.

these two cuddle up to each other on his bed. he seems like the type of person to have "cats not allowed on the bed" as a rule, but nope. when you sleep over now, you're usually the third wheel now. mainly because the cat is sleeping inbetween you and byakuya.

even though its not required for cats, he takes them out for walks every afternoon after school. its nice to walk with a cat around the neighborhood, and its really cute seeing them sniff and look around the unfamiliar area.

his weakness is hearing them meow. one time when you were staying over, the cat kept cuddling up to byakuya to convince him to play with them. he refused, until it meowed. you could physically see his heart clench, and now the rest of the day was used playing with the kitty.

basically, he's extremely attached to the feline you gave him. he doesn't show it too much, but if you look into his behaviour; you can see how happy and thankful he is that you gave him the animal. he loves both of you so much.

dogs! while he does love cats, thinks they're absolutely adorable and deserve the world, he prefers dogs a lot more. when you gave him a dog, he practically almost cried seeing it. any time he even sees one, he gets extremely happy. actually getting another one? get ready for the cheering and fanboying.

he may or may not be one of those dog owners that ends up accidentally giving more attention to his dog compared to you. just communicate if you feel negatively about it, and he'll divide his attention evenly, of course.

you two are going to be constantly with this dog, he pretty much brings them everywhere he can. so basically every conversation you two have in both public and private is most likely going to be overheard by the clueless animal.

daiya is also exactly like komaru, he already visited quite alot before you gave him the pet, but after you gave it? he's there during all of his free time. i personally think daiya is a cat person, but he really likes the dog you gave him.

his whole phone is filled to the brim with photos of this pup. if you look in his gallery app, you'll see a bunch of albums with many different pictures of it. its to the point where his storage is 40% used up by all the pictures he takes of the cute little creature.

is one of those people that buys multiple different matching outfits between him and his dog. he would include you too if you would like to join in! he actually really wants you to do it with them, he'd take way more pictures if you did.

every single morning before school, he takes him to the local biggest dog park. in fact, he goes there so often that all of the other people in the area actually knows mondo very personally, which is a little funny to witness. a bunch of middle aged people knowing exactly what your gangster boyfriend does in his free time? its made you snicker once or twice.

many of the pets around the neighborhood knows his dog pretty well; even the cats do! its actually really cute to see a bunch of different animals from a lot of different species all cuddled together at one tree. again, mondo has a whole gallery of it.

he names his puppy with actual human names. since his last one was named "chuck", i assume that he's gonna call his current pet something that matches his beloved past dogs name. he is very close to crying whenever someone asks why he chose that name for them.

any time someone else has to take care of them while he's away, or when he has something to do, he's practically messaging that person every five seconds. he needs to know that theyre okay, especially since they were given to him by you! he's never damaged or got rid of a gift you gave him, and he's not going to start now.

is exactly like the others, he's extremely happy that you got him a dog, mainly because all of you get so many new memories and experiences, and in general; it makes all of your lives way better, also way more fun.

[rafaelblackbird15]

Teen Wolf Fic Recs Part 2: Steter

It took me quite awhile to gather all these together, so please enjoy discovering more parts to the incredible world of Teen Wolf, provided to you by the wonderful writers of our fandom.

Leave comments and kudos for these writers if you can, they really deserve it, they're wonderful. And it's my honour to try and share their creations with tumblr.

These are Steter, Stiles Stilinski/Peter Hale fanfictions. Read them at your will. Check the tags on the actual fics for warnings and such.

I have included links to authors that write a lot of Steter as well, and some of their fics for examples. I'm sorry this post got so long, haha, but enjoy the stories, they're worth it.

If any of the links don't work, just comment and I'll fix it.

Check out my other Sterek fic recs [Part 3] and [Part 4] and Steter fic recs [Part 1]

*********

Broken Bones and Broken Bonds by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 20148

Chapters: 4/?

Summary:

Stiles kind of wished that he’d at least tried weed before this. 

Or something, you know? Maybe taken up a graffiti hobby, or even just skateboarded in front of City Hall often enough to get a citation. 

He wished he’d done something to be deserving of the looks people gave him now, rather than just being the recipient of his dead father’s unused power. 

**********

Stigmata by twothumbsandnostakeincanon (somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1661

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

He feels so hollow that he almost wonders if he's been turned inside out. This emptiness he feels; is it the vastness of the entire world?

How do you fill a world? With people, he supposes. But his people no longer want him.

He needs people.

*********

Beefcake Mountain by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids) on Archive of Our Own

Words: 14565

Chapters: 7/7

Summary:

Shortly after moving back to Beacon Hills, the left hand of the Hale Pack opened a text from a mysterious number.

"Is there a mirror in your pants? Because I can see myself in them."

What the f—

**********

Steter Week 2019 by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Works: 4

Complete: No

Summary:

There isn't a summary listed so I've included the first fic underneath:

Marvelous Miss and Magnificent Mischief by twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

Words: 3346

Chapters: 1/1

also Part 1 of the Magnificent Mischief series

Summary:

“Marvelous Miss and the Magnificent Mischief!” the carnival barker shouted just outside the corridor with all the food tents. “Come see Miss Paige do amazing tricks with her talking raven! He not only speaks, but he jokes! He teases! He philosophizes!”

********

Author: twothumbsandnostakeincanon(somanyofthekids)

This author has a lot of wonderful Steter fics, and their writing of the pairing is really worth having a good look through.

*******

Blood Runs Cold by Smalls2233 on Archive of Our Own

Words: 111408

Chapters: 22/22

Summary:

“So then why are we letting Scott and Derek search for it if you know it's useless?”

Peter looked down at Stiles and cocked his head with a grin. “Because I think seeing my nephew and your best friend run around like headless chickens while I think up a plan is hysterical.”

“And the plan is…?”

----

Trusting Peter Hale is something that Stiles had repeatedly told himself to never do. He had seen first hand the results of Peter's plans and schemes, but when a shadow began tormenting Beacon Hills, he found that sometimes he'd have to to play along with Peter's games.

This story does include a dose of Chris&Stiles interaction about midway and carries on throughout, and then Chris/Peter towards the midend, which also carries on. And it kind of dissolves into Chris/Peter/Stiles. If that's not your taste, that's fine, because the majority of the story is Stiles/Peter, and that majority is really really good Steter.

**********

No One Listening Tonight by Smalls2233

Words: 6985

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

That left… well it left Peter and only Peter. Relying on Peter for help was only slightly better than stabbing himself through the eye with a hot poker. But desperate times called for desperate measures.

Of course, there was always the option of packing up and letting whatever was trying to destroy the town succeed this time. Stiles snorted under his breath as he thought about how that would probably leave him with fewer injuries than dealing with Peter would. But unfortunately, that wasn’t an option. Stiles knew he needed to head downtown to Peter’s apartment and pray the man was willing to work with him.

----

Stiles stumbles into a magical trap forged by a wannabe warlock.

*********

Author: Smalls2233

*********

Blue by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3179

Chapters: 2/2

Summary:

Derek brings both Scott and Stiles to the hospital to prove a point about hunters, but Stiles isn’t sure the point he’s getting is the point Derek’s trying to make. Especially when his black and white world explodes into color the moment he looks into Peter Hale’s eyes.

*********

The Long Way Around by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 15569

Chapters: 3/3

Summary:

When Peter leaves Beacon Hills for good, he expects that to be it for the broken bonds of the last remaining members of the Hale pack. Fate and Stiles Stilinski aren’t of the same opinion.

**********

Prowl by Wynnebat on Archive of Our Own

Words: 3454

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Laura's body is never found, but instead of continuing with his murder spree, Peter gets distracted by the scent of his mate. Stiles gets very distracted by the huge wolf that starts showing up at his house all the time.

**********

Author: Wynnebat

This author writes some really interesting, deep stories about Steter that are really beautiful.

**********

your last white lie (everything is not alright) by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 4023

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Stiles says yes, and things go downhill from there.

**********

reflect by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 569

Chapters: 1/1

Part 1 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

(previously posted to tumblr)

When he dreams, he can sometimes still hear his mother’s voice, explaining it to him: Reflections are the price we pay for what we are.

*********

sentire by snowdarkred on Archive of Our Own

Words: 1027

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the dig your teeth in and tear until you taste (peter/stiles oneshots) series

Summary:

[to feel]

Stiles hears the whisper of death before it strikes.

**********

Author:

snowdarkred

This author writes some really intense, interesting stories about Peter and Stiles. Not as long as some fics are, but they're really good adaptions of Steter with a lot of feeling.

**********

The Striking Complication by aurevell on Archive of Our Own

Words: 27235

Chapters: 4/15

Summary:

The smile slips off Stiles’s face. “Hey, um. Why am I here?” he asks, voice unsteady. “I’m—I have this weird feeling like I shouldn’t leave you. I’ve felt all day like...” He can’t finish the thought.

Peter looks as surprised as Stiles feels. A strange expression passes over his face, there and gone before Stiles can decipher it.

Stiles snaps awake each morning with the sense that he’s missing something. Weirder still, he can’t wrap his head around his sudden, inexplicable trust in Peter Hale, who seems to know way more than he’s letting on. Nor can he guess why a half-remembered nightmare seems to haunt his every move.

Rinse and repeat. Because time loops suck, apparently.

*******

Author: aurevell

This author has 11 Teen Wolf fics under their belt. 5 Sterek and 6 Steter. Happy rummaging!

**********

the teeth right down to the blood by sazzafraz on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2133

Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

‘We’re pretty fucked right now.’ Scott says. Stiles doesn’t speak but there’s something singing in his bones that says Scott got the message anyway. (In which both are bit and things are gruesome.)

This has a sprinkling of Scott/Stiles, Scott/Stiles/Peter, and Scott/Allison as well as Steter, but it's worth the read, a good story with an interesting concept.

*********

Author: sazzafraz

This author doesn't have that many Steter stories, although they do have a few. Although they do have some pretty lengthy Teen Wolf fics about other characters of the show.

***********

Everything goes (wow) by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 8215

Chapters: 5/5

Part 1 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

It was supposed to go like this:

1. Peter summons demon to the circle.

2. Demon remains in said circle until Peter outlines their contract.

3. Demon agrees to elegantly crafted contract, becoming loyally bound to Peter and Peter alone.

Instead, the creature steps casually out of the circle, tosses its things onto the leather sofa, and starts immediately meddling in Peter’s immaculate space, touching all of Peter’s very expensive things.

*********

It's only by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 2905

Chapters: 3/5

Part 2 of the Aranea & Babewolf series

Summary:

“Darling, please don’t pout.”

“You’re pouting.” Stiles pouts, from the upper corner of the library, everything from his hip bones down an angry mass of hissing fangs and venomous chelicerae. “Why would we ever go back to that garbage town? Everyone there is the worst, the only good thing is the very rad and awesome curse I laid.”

*********

You are a memory by midmorning_bomb on Archive of Our Own

Words: 900

Chapters: 1/1

Part 2 of the Little glimpse series

Summary:

If he has to bleed to breathe warmth back into Peter’s icy body, he will.

Because Peter’s done the same for him.

********

Author: midmorning_bomb

This author has 16 Steter fics. A little unfriendly to some of the other characters, but it's only kind of obvious because it's not subtle about it, and not exactly underserved. Has some really interesting ideas as well as some kind, well developed Steter. Definitely have a read through.

***********

[mxvladdy]

What do you think would happen if MC (in an attempt to keep it away from him) tucked Goldie under their boob?

[A bra is the best wallet but underneath even a C-cup boob is damn near Fort Knox (or the tower of London, I.e. Impenatrable fortresses)]

lmaooo. Let’s us gather round and pray for Mammon’s remaining sanity. What little remands. The himbo never saw it coming. I’m weak and got a little spicy at the end, apologies if that’s not what you wanted my heart was thirsty for ONE greed man;.;

  A/N I originally called this work Tiity prison bc I have a sense of humor lol.

Hope ya like!

To say he is conflicted is an understatement. Depending on when and where you do the titty lockdown will change how he reacts.

If it's at school, he is a mess. I’m talking about the works. He’s red in the face, can’t focus, and sweating the whole rest of the school day. He is definitely torn between fighting his goldie withdrawals and making a pass at your chest.

He won’t do the latter, as much as he threatens it. He may be scummy but he has a code of conduct (most of the time). You get a kick out of watching him try not to stare at your chest and getting smacked by Lucifer when caught.

If it’s on Lucifer’s orders to keep his card away from him he’ll have a bit more control but will bitch the WHOLE day. Honestly, you might give it back just to shut him up.

He won’t outright grab your chest or physically try to snatch it. He’ll try to be sneaky about it. Dropping stuff and making you bend over to grab it. “I swear I ain’t try nothin’”. Right.

If desperate enough he’ll just downright pick you up off your feet and jiggle you like a piggy bank. Like I said, he has a code of conduct. It’s just kinda flexible sometimes.

“C-come on! Give ‘er back.” Mammon pleads, pulling off his classic bagger’s pout. Good thing you were immune. His toned arms cage you in, your back resting on one of the school’s marble walls. “How am I going to buy lunch?”

“I made you lunch.” You laugh. Ducking under his arms you make your way to the dining hall ignoring his flustered shouts. He’ll follow soon enough. The promise of your cooking and potentially nabbing goldie back was too great for him to ignore. Sure enough, he slinks in a few minutes after you. His shades now out and perched on his nose. Even hidden under the tinted glasses, you could see his flushed cheeks and darting eyes. “Better eat now, Beel is going to join us today.” You say around a mouthful of food. He whines but forces himself to focus on his quickly cooling food.

He follows you even closer than before after lunch, barely a hair’s breadth from your back. His clever fingers pinching and pulling at the bottom of your shirt in the crowded hallway. “Please~” He whimpers through his teeth after your swat his hands away again. “I swear I won’t use her.”

You plop down at your desk. “If you’re not going to use her, then she is safe where she is.” You stick your tongue out and give the boob hiding goldie a lovely squeeze. Mammon groans as if stabbed, teeth bared and fangs growing in a mix of frustration and want. “Babe come on. Ya’ killing me.” His eyes are glued to where your hand rests.

Before you can respond a leather-clad hand smacks Mammon across the back of his head. Mammon yips in fright. “I will kill you first if you don’t keep your eyes up at the board.” The cold warning from Lucifer was enough to shut you both up for the rest of the class. You watch him disappear when the bell chimes. His next period was across campus while you were stuck here for another hour. Your phone buzzes the moment his designer boots disappear out the door.

Pretty Boy: what did you do to Mammon?

You: I have no idea what you’re talking about.

You catch Asmo’s eye from his seat a few rows back from you. He winks at you, thumbs flying across his lit screen.

Pretty Boy: Bull- tell me your secrets. I haven’t seen him that flustered in eons, not since Helen paid a visit.

You: Got “asked” by Lucifer to keep Goldie away from Mammon for the day. A limited edition car he wants just got released. Luci is still paying off Mammon’s last shopping spree, so he’s on ice till tomorrow afternoon.

Pretty Boy: Ouch- you not telling him where it is?

You: Oh no. He knows exactly where it is. He is just too nervous to go for it.

You hear Asmo’s scandalous gasp behind you earning you both a glare from the professor. You bite your tongue to hide a chuckle. The professor turns with a huff, and Asmo starts up all over again.

Pretty Boy: Is it in your pants! Can I take a look ;*

You: No and No.

Pretty Boy: Ah- he was always a chest man. Good luck with that, he can hold out for only so long :)

What does that mean? You whip your head around waiting for an explanation text. Asmo has the gall to ignore you, busy reapplying his lip gloss. Even if he wasn’t looking at you, you knew that impish smile was for you. Turning back around in your seat you shiver, now you weren’t sure if you should be scared or excited.

The rest of the day passes quietly. Too quietly. It gives you the jitters. Every corner of the school could be a potential hiding spot for one conniving demon. You weren’t expecting him to attack you, not outright. Yet, you were expecting some sort of retaliation. The last bell of the day came sooner than you expected and it was time for afterschool activities. Packing your bag you wave off Beel and Satan, assuring them you would be fine to walk to the music and arts wing by yourself.  They had their own clubs to get to anyway.

Making your way to your activity you feel the hair on the back of your neck began to rise. Something wasn’t sitting right with you. You look up and around. No one was in the corridors, not even a stray teacher rushing to the breakroom. Odd. You peak over your shoulder and frown. Even the air was still. Chalking it up to a probably very haunted school, you pick up the pace. Even if you didn’t believe in the ghost stories like Luke, it was best to just never find out. No matter what hallway you took or how fast you walked the feeling of being watched only intensified. Your flight or fight instinct kicked in.

Who could you call if you need help? Where in the hells was Mam- was that your pencil case? You skid to a halt bemused. There, in the middle of the floor was your favorite case. The calico kitty design stares up at you innocently from the floor. You open your bag to double-check. You could have sworn you had thrown it in there after last period. Did it fall out? Had you taken this path before? You approached it cautiously, bending down to grab it.

Strong arms wrap around your waist locking around you like a spring trap. They lift you up and up and up. It was so sudden you could do nothing but squeak in surprise, pencil case clutched tightly to your chest. Were you really going to die here? Caught in such a childish trap...wait.  “Seriously Mammon!” The fear disappears, replaced now with exasperation. He grunts ignoring your words to shake you slightly. You yelp feeling goldie and your bra shift. “Oh, my Gods. Mammon! I know you can do better than this.”

“Shut up! I’m desperate.”

Unbelievable. "That's the best you got? Really, I’m kinda insulted." Mammon stops shaking you, his arms loosening enough for you to turn around to face him. He looks up at you batting his long lashes. “Put me down.” It wasn’t a pact order, but firm. He pouts but sets you back on the ground gently. Not before giving you a hearty squeeze. You catch his hand sneaking up the side of your shirt with a raised brow. "Why didn't you just make a grab for it in the first place?"

He scoffs turning pink. "'M allowed ta just cop a feel whenever I want now?"

"Absolutely not, not in public at least. I like you breathing."

“Could have fooled me,” Mammon chuckles. He glances around the empty hallway then back to you. A slow rolling purr starts deep in his throat. "Though, there is no one here now." Slowly his dexterous fingers glide back over your sides. His touch is searing on your shirt. You could feel goldie pulsing underneath the cotton of your bra. The plastic seemingly growing warmer than your skin as his hand travels closer. You do nothing, watching his face grow hungrier with each passing centimeter as he gets close to his prize. “What’s stopping me now?”

“Just you.” He stops at the side of your chest, eye wide and greedy. You could feel him trying to temper himself. His adrenaline, fear, lust, and his raw cardinal desire thicking the air around you. It all pulsed red hot in his veins and travels down to yours. He wanted more than just goldie now. His natural magnetism pulling you in closer. You wanted him, you wanted him to just take it- take everything. The pact mark slams shut, its heat snuffed out like a candle. "Mammon?" Had your teasing gone too far?

"Hold tight to her till tonight." He growls tapping your chest possessively. His many gold rings resemble talons as he drags his fingers across the stitching of your school uniform. "I'll come for her tonight," He leans in, smoke and leather clouds your sense. "and I'll be taking a tithe for all the trouble you caused me too." His husky promise sends a shiver down your spine, gut twisting in anticipation. Mammon's bright blue eyes jump over your shoulder, a frown grows on his beautiful face, he could hear footsteps approaching from your club room. Probably the angels looking for you. Brushing his lips across your cheek he parts, shoving his hands into his pockets. "Be ready. You know I always come to collect."

[crimsonophelia]

holidays and festivals with genshin characters ||

many thanks to my bestie hani for giving me inspiration for many of these~

featuring: zhongli, venti, childe, razor 

warnings: none

published: april 14 2021

form: headcanons

zhongli - lantern rite festival

okay but i’m genuinely upset at how they barely featured zhongli in the lantern rite quest unless you actually played as him :c

but anyways! the liyue lantern rite festival is heavily inspired by the traditional chinese holiday called the lantern festival (元宵节), so i think a lot of the things that you would typically do to celebrate lantern festival would apply to lantern rite as well

i think zhongli would take lantern rite quite seriously, as most chinese do, and he would make sure to plan weeks in advance his days off from work and what he will need to do to prepare to celebrate lantern rite with his friends

when the morning of the festival arrives, he makes sure to come visit you bright and early, much to your dismay

he bids you a good morning, helps you get dressed, and takes you into town to run errands. and, as expected, zhongli has once again forgotten that mora is a key element in financial transactions and requires your monetary assistance unsurprisingly

liyue is donned in bright shades of red and jewel, and families are out and about viewing the beautiful decorations, reminded of their beautiful and prosperous land and of those who protect it

zhongli would take you around, asking you to buy buying little trinkets for you and for you to gift to others as a sign of well-wishing for the holiday season. you and zhongli also purchase heaps of street food, exclusively available around lantern rite week, and zhongli probably eats more than you’ve ever seen him eat.

once the sun sets later in the day, you two watch the lanterns and lightshow, in awe of its beauty. you turn to see zhongli’s reaction, and as the stars and lights cast a magical glow upon his face, he seems more content than you’ve ever seen him before. perhaps spending lantern rite with a beloved companion has done something for the old man’s weary heart.

venti - windblume festival

all i have to say is that venti is a drunk mess the entire time the festival is in mondstadt

he’s on a drinking spree trying to taste test all the different new cocktails and wines that the angel’s share is selling exclusively during the festival season, and is not apologetic whatsoever that you have to deal with his obnoxious drinking habits

in addition to his little side hustle going on, scamming innocent people of their money by teaching them how to write “love poems”, i also feel like he would make some extra cash for booze by reselling random flowers, claiming that they are actually real windblumes or something like that

but i do think he would have the decency to save some of the mora he makes to spend on you during the festival season. venti isn’t stupid and it’s a little bit concerning how smooth and tactful he actually is when he chooses to be so, hence i do think that he would actually treat you to some nice things ;)

however, he isn’t as big on buying gifts as zhongli is (ironically, considering zhongli is probably more broke than the traveling drunkard) so i think he would make a lot more homemade gifts for you, like a hand-picked flower bouquet and a self-brewed dandelion wine drink

if venti hasn’t officially confessed his love before windblume, i think he would take this opportunity to make it official and take things a bit more seriously.

venti walked over to you after his poem masterclass with a sheet of paper in his hand, a little sheepishly, which was unusual for the cheeky little bastard

he says the class went well, and he hands you the paper he was holding. 

“i showed them this example i wrote. give it a read. pretty good, isn’t it?”

neither the lampgrass, nor the dandelion, or the delicate cecilia, nor the vibrant aster, could ever compare to the way my heart beats faster, when you spare an ounce of your beauty, spending your love on a poor, old, drunkard like me.

impressed, you lift your gaze, and to your surprise, the little bard looks more genuine than you’ve probably ever seen before.

“keep it. i wrote it for you.”

childe - maslenitsa

okay so my good friend, who is russian, gave me the idea to write about childe celebrating maslenitsa (an eastern orthodox holiday that is related to easter), and i am by no means orthodox nor eastern european (so please forgive any cultural misdescriptions), but i do think this is a super cute idea

i think childe would get some time off from being a harbinger to celebrate with his family, which is a rare treat for the fine-tuned warrior whittled down to little more than a hedonistic machine by the tsaritsa 

like truly, i feel so sad when thinking about childe sometimes because he’s so kind to his family, especially his brothers, and the fact that he’s away on missions for so long must make him miss his family a lot

that’s why during the holidays, he really treasures every second he gets to be back home, and now that he gets the chance to take you to meet his family, he’s even more overjoyed

there is still a thin layer of snow on the ground, but there is a slight scent of spring making its way back into the household as ajax and his brothers help their mother prepare ingredients to bake bliny, the buttery smell wafting through the kitchen

the boys are a mess as ajax is particularly clumsy with tasks that require dexterity of the fingers, and he ends up getting flour all over his clothes as well as his shorter brothers, and thus receiving a scolding from their mother

being the teasing little brat he is, he smears some of the flour onto your nose when you aren’t paying attention, which calls for even more chastising coming from his mother while she mixes all the ingredients together. 

the total domesticity of the scene melts your heart, and seeing ajax laugh with such tenderness and without any barriers obstructing his heart might be one of the most bittersweet things you’ve ever witnessed, knowing he inevitably will have to return to a life of danger and uncertainty

bonus: razor - windblume

i literally don’t have any fleshed out ideas for this but my friend and i were talking about how he would try and pick wolfhook berries for you during windblume, because he thinks that’s what the windblume flower is and he wants to express his care for you by giving you the most special flower he can find :’)

like he would ask to take you to wolvendom on a walk, and you acquiesce because who could ever refuse razor

whenever you two are alone together, razor tries his best to talk and form the most proper and eloquent sentences that he is able to, and he does try very hard, really, but often to no avail

but you reassure him, “razor, baby, it’s okay, i can understand you without words just fine” and he blushes because nobody has ever called him “baby” before T_T

when you’re in wolvendom with him, he holds your hand in order to not lose you, and his grip is a little nervous at first but gradually gets more confident and his fingers fit more comfortably between yours. he will walk ahead of you, creating an easy pathway through the dense flora, and will pull you up by your waist in case the terrain becomes difficult

once he finds the biggest and plumpest wolfhook berry, he gives it to you with both hands outstretched, gaze averted out of timidness

you accept his lovely gift and ruffle his hair a little bit and the boy melts T_T and from then onwards he gives you a ton of gifts in the form of random little flowers or berries he finds because that’s how he shows his care for you 

can you tell i started listening to mitski halfway through writing this

[stxleslyds]

MY TOUGHTS ON THE END OF RED HOOD BY CHIP ZDARSKY.

Dishonour! Dishonour on you, dishonour on your cow! 

Well Jason Nation, it happened again, fanon wins over canon. The amount of bullshit that DC made Zdarsky write in this issue is insane, I have never seen this many fanfiction tropes shoved in a single issue in my life.

This book has been a constant insult to Jason’s character and his Red Hood “persona” since the very first issue but I never thought it would end this badly. It’s incredibly sad.

I will go ahead and say it, this tumblr and this post is not “Batfamily” friendly and it definitely isn’t fanon friendly when it comes to Jason Todd.

Fanon is destroying canon for Jason Todd. I am sorry but that’s how I see it, fanon doesn’t belong in canon, I would never get tired of saying that. But here is the thing, DC latches on to Jason’s fanon version because it fits their narrative of “the Batman is all that is right and all must follow his rules or they shall disappear”.

DC has been dying to make Jason bland and flavourless just like Batman. And now here it finally is.

Let’s be honest the story in this book, the new drug, Cheer, Tyler and his mom, none of that shaped this story, none of those things were the support beams for it. It was all about this never ending “daddy issues” thing that DC pretends is going on between Jason and Bruce.

It was all about those two fighting because they “think differently” so in the end they can push Jason towards the “no killing rule” being also the Red Hood’s modus operandi.

Its utter bullshit.

From the moment that Jason had to put a bat suit on I knew that this was going to be a mess. Luckily like I predicted they didn’t make a big deal out of him wearing it but the “Jason admires Batman” feeling was very present in the issue.

I will not talk about how easy it was for that one thug to land a punch on Jason while he was distracted and I will also not talk about Jason being a dumbass for not securing his dumb mask better when he knew the fight will involve gases. I will not talk about it.

Anyway, let’s talk about the Cheer Gas induced illusion, shall we?

In Jason’s illusion he finds Bruce at the manor looking at the picture of Joker’s death (?) and even though that is strange what Bruce says next is even weirder, he says this: “I did it. He was the last one, but I did it…Joker is dead. I am done.”

Now what the hell was that? This is Jason’s illusion, and by the looks of it in his illusion Bruce has killed every baddie in Gotham and left the Joker for last? Am I reading that right? Is this this a joke?

I understand that this is an illusion so the gas is making “real” things that Jason probably doesn’t know he wants, like wanting Bruce to go on a killing spree, which Jason never wanted because he said it himself, do you guys remember the iconic “I’m not talking about killing Cobblepot and Scarecrow or Clayface. Not Riddler or Dent…I’m talking about HIM. Just him.” Because I remember and it’s so important to Jason’s character, Jason never wanted Bruce to go on a killing spree, he wanted Bruce to kill the clown who had killed him when he was only fifteen. Is that so hard to remember DC?

And then it gets worse! Since WHEN has Jason wanted a perfect family life with the people that he has tried to kill, harm or looked down to? Why is “being with a bunch of people who NEVER get together for anything other than “help” the Bat in a fight against a fucking clown” the idea of happiness to Jason? Has this man ever interacted with any of these people in a positive way without the intrusion of a Batman/Robin event in the way? I will give you the answer, it’s no, the answer is no.

Jason Todd doesn’t care for your “Batfamily” bullshit DC, why would it matter to him? Because he was Robin? He was killed by the Joker when he was Robin, and he was killed because the man in charge of him didn’t pay enough attention! Jason Todd who was written as Dick Grayson’s number one hater for so long (and fandom loves that) is now having an illusion where he enjoys happy times with him along the others? Cass and Stephanie? What? Am I missing something, is this actually AO3, is this fanfiction?

I think Zdarsky got confused, this illusion is what would happen if Jason were dosed with fear gas. That must be it, I solved it everyone! Zdarsky just got confused by his own writing!

I wish.

Let’s go back to the sad reality, Jason has a moment in which he actually puts all his training in motion and shakes of the gas’s grasp on him. He does that but he is grabbed by so many people (who are this people?) and he is unarmed and I believe that’s the only reason why Cheer is still alive after saying that he has someone in Tyler’s mom’s hospital room ready to kill her if he doesn’t join him.

(If this were the real Jason, Cheer would have dropped dead instantly.)

But this is not the real Jason and this is not a *real* comic, it’s fanfiction! So just like that time in Batman #100 when Dick was fighting alone as Nightwing (for the first time since his “family” left him alone after losing his memories) the rest of the “family” shows up to fight Cheer and four random thugs.

Yep, its like the MCU had considered having Cap say “Avengers Assemble” when they were fighting a couple of robots instead of Thanos.

What a mess.

Also having Jason say, in real life (not illusion world), “You know what happiness is? It’s knowing that others have your back.” about this group of people is the perfect recipe for a big OOC moment for absolutely everyone. I cannot believe they have dragged Jason back to this awful concept and that they have sank him so low. It’s quite honestly, disgusting.

But the horrors don’t end there, we have a wonderful moment after Jason gives Batman the antidote, Jason stops Batman from punching the living shit out of Cheer. Because I am not stupid. There is no way in the world that you can convince me that Jason just stopped Batman from killing Cheer.

How incredibly delusional do you have to be to write Batman finally killing someone and that someone being Cheer, a guy that was introduced to comics two months ago?

Yes, later its said that between the gas and the antidote Bruce was a little too crazy and couldn’t help himself BUT I call bullshit once more, because Bruce has gone completely bat-shit-crazy on people before! I remember two recent instances in which that happened. Batman #57 in which Bruce beats the living shit out of KGBeast after he shot Dick. And the other one is Batman beating up Jason more brutally than he ever beat up Joker in RHatO #25.

DC cannot fuck with me. I might has bought this digital comic for 8 dollars but I am not buying that bullshit.

ALSO, there was no need for Zdarsky to do Jason as dirty as he did him when he made him say: “If you are going to come down from mount judgement to MY level for once… he’s not the guy to do it for.”

Zdarsky, why did you write a Red Hood story when you hate Red Hood? Couldn’t you have just told DC that you wanted to write a love letter to Batman? Once again, I am reading a Red Hood story for RED HOOD content not Batman content. Is it really that hard? I bet that if Zdarsky had asked DC to let him write a Batman story they would have said yes, there are like 20 Batman stories, they wouldn’t say no to one more!

Can you tell I am mad? And salty?

This post is so long and so full of anger, I am truly sorry for that but I have to write these feelings down or I would explode. And I am not even done, our suffering, Jason Nation, continues.

But first a little break from the pain, Tyler. Thank you after all the pain this book has given me Tyler is back and just like I predicted his mom is fine and he will stay with her, they both have been given a place and money to rebuild their life (not given by Jason nor Dick but I was close enough). The only happy ending that Tyler could have, he had and I am thankful for that, we even got a little adorable moment between the Red Hood and the Blue Hood.

I am weak for these little glimpses of a good Jason take in the middle of an incredibly awful/OOC story. And just to live in my own fantasy world I will headcanon that Jason promised himself to keep an eye out for Tyler and his mom. He would have wanted to know about their life and that they are still out of trouble.

Jason is a good man, don’t you forget that DC, I don’t care how much you twist it. Jason killing Tyler’s dad wasn’t a horrible act, it was fair game. That man was a horrible person, he drugged his child and made his wife (?) almost overdose. You never gave context as to why that man was working as a drug dealer but you told us those things so Jason should never feel like he did something wrong. As far as we know, Tyler and his mom are better off without him.

Having said that, lets go back to the pain of what is reading a Red Hood story.

“I’m giving up the guns.”

You know what, fine, as long as DC doesn’t pull another “I will stop being Red Hood for you Barbara” I will be fine. He can kill people with other things, he used to have the all-blades, he had normal swords and he had crowbars.

I will sacrifice Jason looking hot as hell when he pulls out his guns just to keep him as the Red Hood, all DC has to do is not give him that stupid… bat… symbol… oh no…. oh my god I can feel it… that thing, that horrible thing is making a comeback! NO!

Jason and Bruce’s talk is basic and it doesn’t do anything for anyone, in the end saying that Jason isn’t changing his ways for Bruce but that he is doing it for himself is more of the same. We know he is doing it for Bruce and we know DC is doing it because they cannot handle good, complex and interesting characters. We know that and sadly we have to live with it.

About Bruce’s illusion, well, Bruce has said that he wanted to kill the clown for a very long time and in the King run it was basically said that if Bruce were to be happy then the idea of Batman would die.

Listen, between me and you, sometimes I think that the Joker isn’t that big of a problem for Gotham as a whole, that clown has beef with the Bat and no one else. If Bruce has killed the Joker Jason would have been happy with Bruce all those years ago but killing the Joker wouldn’t make Gotham a safe place and any of his kids happier.

Bruce needs to care for his children, but he won’t do that, he has Dick for that. Taking care and raising Damian? No, thank you, I will not do that. Giving a shit about my son who lost all his memories and is alone? No thank you, I won’t do that and then I will lie about having watched him over. Tim? Oh, never heard of him, sorry.

The last page of this story is the one of Jason arriving home and finding a new suit that Bruce gave him with the bat symbol on it. That symbol that he had ripped off of Jason’s beat up body back in RHatO #25 (nope, I am not letting that one go).

Oh, and Bruce leaving that suit in Jason’s home gives me the same exact vibes as the time that Bruce was like “Long overdue. This is where you belong. As one of us. One of the family” in Nightwing #74 a second after Dick had regained his memories.

I don’t know why but they make him sound incredibly cold and like these people are just his pawns that he needs to rope back in every time they get away from him. It’s very disturbing.

Anyway, that’s all from me, I obviously LOVED this book, best Jason Todd/Red Hood characterisation ever! 11/10 would recommend to everyone including my enemies!

🙃

[americasmarauders]

ivy--Jason ToddxFem!Reader

author’s note: once upon a time there was a tiny Luíza who thought it was a good idea to wirite a royal!au. She spent 3 months working on it, but she couldn’t make justice to the words in her head so she gave up on it. Then she watched Bridgerton and decided to give the draft another chance; 

so yeah this is a royal!au. this is also my first mature work. nothing explicit just a mention of the devil’s tango. 

BEWARE: minors: there is nothing explicit, but there is a mention of sex towards the end, so read it with discretion. I would classify this as a 16+

words: 11,071

the link to my masterlist is here and the link to my jason playlist is here

#

#

This was a business transaction, she kept reminding herself.

         There were lives on the line, lives she had sworn to protect. It was her duty as the princess to guarantee the continuity and longevity of her bloodline and, above all else, her subjects. And the proposition presented to her guaranteed both of those.

         She saw it coming. Her Father’s lavish spending sprees, buying fights with people he shouldn’t. The vault had emptied—not completely, although it wasn’t nowhere near the same state it once was—and the people had suffered. She inherited the mess.

         Her kingdom, her prized kingdom, so brilliant, so beautiful, was in ruins. Because of an ego too big. She wasn't going to let that happen again. 

         The Wayne’s presented as the exit. The kingdom of Gotham neighbored her own, it would be convenient for them to incorporate hers. But above all else, king Bruce wasn’t looking for lands, he wanted knowledge, something her kingdom had plenty to spare.

         He wanted the kingdom of scholars to be his own. He wanted to stop the gangs, the barbaric gangs that destroyed her precious land, and he needed help from her scholars. Bruce gave her a business offer too hard to refuse. But there’s always a catch.

         ‘She’ll marry into the family,’ he wrote in his letter to the Queen, her mother. ‘My second son, he’s the Captain of the Royal Guards, he’s the one to take my throne. She’ll be a fine Queen, and with her knowledge, Y/N will help defeat this evil lurking in our shadows’.

         At first, she refused. She wanted to do it, but not at the cost of her future, not at the cost of her love. But she cooled her head. She couldn’t let her selfishness get in the way of the kingdom’s prosperity. So, she sent a letter to King Bruce. She accepted, at the condition they would do whatever it takes to preserve her tradition of knowledge. If to preserve her kingdom and give her people a relief she had to sell herself, then she would gladly do it

 #

 #

Gotham was nowhere near as beautiful as her kingdom. It had its charm, she could see why someone would like it, but it didn’t have the same ethereal air to it. On the contrary, it was quite gray and moody.

         She guessed it went along with the family running it. The Wayne’s were famous for being an overly serious, and, quite honestly, incredibly brooding family. King Bruce adopted 6 children—and rumors went around that only one of them was biological; a bastard—and all of them had varying levels of moodiness. She was to marry the second one: Prince Jason, Prince of Park Row.

         For a long time, he was the cautionary tale that was told to the children of the royal families. The Prince gone wrong, he snapped, rebelled, and, to many, he had fallen from grace. It was only a few years back he had resurfaced to the public attention as the one who was to be the next king. What happened between being the fallen Prince to being the heir was a mystery, one she wasn't sure she wanted to unveil.

         She looked at the windows, seeing the tiny rock houses and the calm villagers walking around under the daylight. She knew that once the night fell, things would change and the streets would be filled with those she yearned to eradicate.

         “You do not have to go through with this, my daughter,” her Mother started, once again trying to convince you of backing out of the deal. “We can find another way.”

         “There isn’t,” she answered. Her Mother opened her mouth to try to argue. “Don’t, Mother. You raised me to do what was right by my kingdom and its people and continuing by ourselves isn’t the answer.”

         “You are not sure about that,” Mother said, condescending in her words.

         “Don’t patronize me, Mother,” she shot back, her tone controlled. “I know this isn’t the ideal situation, but our situation wasn’t ideal to begin with,” she inhaled, her gaze shifting to the window of the carriage. “If Father hadn’t been so careless, we wouldn’t be here, and I would have turned down King Bruce’s proposal.”

         “I know,” Mother agreed quietly. “I feel for our loss of freedom, that’s all.”

         “This isn’t a loss of freedom. This is a new beginning. This is our chance to right our wrongs. Is there more freedom than that?” she responded, putting an end to this conversation as the carriage approached the castle.

         It was incredible and grandiose, far more than her family’s castle. It was fitting, she’d heard once from Elizabeth, one of the ladies in her court, that the Waynes vault was enormous. She didn’t know how she knew but seeing the castle alone she believed it.

         The carriage pulled to a stop, the door opening for her exit. Mother went first accepting the help from the coachman. She got out gracefully next, and the coachman closed the door behind her. She saw two men standing approaching. The older one had an austere air to him, but as he got nearer, she saw the crinkles next to his eyes, indications of years of smiling. The younger one had mischief in his eyes, and she couldn’t deny that he was incredibly handsome.

         “Your Majesty,” the older man bowed to her Mother. He then turned to her and bowed, “Your Highness, it is an absolute pleasure to have you in our kingdom.”

         She smiled politely. “The pleasure is all mine, Sir.”

         He smiled back. “I’m Alfred Pennyworth, I run the Wayne estate,” he turned once again to Mother. “Your Majesty, if you please I’ll show you to your quarters.”

         “Yes, thank you, Sir Pennyworth,” Mother answered, following him into the castle.

         The other man cleared his throat. “Your Highness, I’m Prince Dick, Duke of Blüdhaven,” he bowed, and she offered her hand. He kissed it politely, quickly releasing it and standing straight. “I’m the one escorting you today.”

         “Thank you, Prince Dick,” she said politely.

         “Shall we?” he offered his arm, and she couldn’t miss the golden glimmer of his wedding band on his hand.

         “We shall,” she said, controlled.

         Both of them walked calmly, as he showed her around the castle. She noticed the extravagant décor, paintings of generations of Wayne’s before adorning the walls, amongst other priceless pieces of art she was sure were worth more than the entire treasure she had in her kingdom. She quietly observed as he showed the corridor to her quarters for the month—he gracefully omitted the fact that she was marrying a stranger by the end of it and this wasn’t going to be her room any longer than that.

         She heard Prince Dick sigh next to her. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” he stated. “I’m sure I can speak for my Father when I say we all wished for a different outcome.”

        She offered him a tight smile. “Yes, well, I believe what we have agreed on is what’s right for both of our kingdoms,” she noted. “And while I wonder what would have been like if I didn’t come to this decision, if I may be candid, I do not regret making it.”

        He chuckled. “Yes, I’m glad you do not have any regrets, Your Highness,” he said. “And I’m glad you were candid about it. I’m positive you’ll do great in our family.”

        He stopped in front of a large and sturdy double door. He knocked 3 times. “The King awaits you,” he stated to her. “You shall wait here.”

        “Yes, thank you, Your Highness,” she bowed slightly. “Thank you for escorting me.”

 #

#

“I will not marry her, for fucks sake,” Jason growled, slamming his hands on his guardian’s imponent desk. “I will not be a fucking bargain coin for your politics, Bruce.”

         Bruce didn’t even flinch with his son’s outburst. “It is your duty.”

         “Shove the duty up your ass, then. I have too many things to worry about, I don’t want another.”

         Bruce continued to look at the map sprawled out on his desk, “The L/N’s are incredibly smart and their kingdom holds a lot of the knowledge that we need to defeat the Joker’s gang and the others. This is very much your concern, isn’t it?”

         Jason shuddered at the mention of Joker. “It is,” he said, defiant.

         “Then marry her and do your job,” he stood up, leaning menacingly over the desk to look Jason in the eye. “You are the main responsible for our safety, and although I disagree with your methods, you are doing a good job. You need to start thinking of the future, Jason. This is bigger than you.”

         Jason huffed in annoyance. “I know of that,” he muttered. Then he smirked and said: “But you didn’t marry and had biological kids, Bruce,” he taunted. “Why should I do it the traditional way?”

        “Because I know what it’s like to not go down that path, son,” he answered, raising his voice slightly, but still composed. “I don’t want you to be like me, I want you to be better.”

        Jason was speechless. He tried to mutter a word but his brain couldn’t think of any of it. “I still don't want to marry her.”

        “You will, though,” his Father answered, opening his drawer and pulling the contract out of it. “And all I ask of you is to not push her away. You’ll need her, more than she’ll need you.”

        Jason wasn’t exactly sure what he meant by that. And he hated to admit—he and Bruce were constantly fighting over everything, especially after… after—but his Father was right. He wished it didn’t come at the cost of his liberty. He wasn’t looking for a wife. He found that it would only hold him back. But the prospect of the crown loomed in his horizon, and if he wanted to do right by his people, marrying was one of the requirements. It was too late to turn back.

         Three sturdy knocks sounded. Jason quickly recomposed himself.

 #

#

She had seen King Bruce once, when she was younger. Her Mother threw a gala for whatever reason and he attended. She didn’t remember seeing any of his kids there, or maybe she was too occupied with her own thoughts to notice.

         She remembered him being charming and handsome. A lot of the ladies of the court wanted to marry him, but somehow none of them had managed to. She recalled the color of his eyes so vividly, not because it was beautiful—it was—but because it revealed something deeper about himself that left her guessing. She could never discover it, though. Some things are better left unsaid and unknown.

         Looking at him now felt like she had entered a time machine. He had stayed the same, save a couple of wrinkles of worry—totally comprehensible for someone with his position.

         She curtsied. “Your Majesty, it’s an honor to meet you once again,” she said.

         “Princess Y/N, please come in,” he motioned for her to come in. She straightened up and calmly walked into the room. “I believe you haven’t acquainted yourself with Prince Jason,” he nodded towards the direction of the man standing angrily in the corner.

         “No, I haven’t,” she smiled politely and turned to the man. She curtsied, “Your Highness, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

         She could feel him rolling his eyes, even if she couldn’t see him. “The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness,” he answered sarcastically.

         She uncurled and crossed her hands in front of her body. She glanced one last time at her suitor, studying him.

        He was beautiful.

        Jason had the prettiest eyes she had ever seen. They were the perfect shade of blue, and she never thought there was a perfect shade of color. His hair had a streak of white, that made him look even more rugged than he already was. His hair was swept, messy in the perfect way. He was pretty in the way a bounty hunter or a thief would be, not the way a prince would. Princes were known for being pristine and soft around the edges: Jason was nothing like that.

        She turned her eyes to the king. “I believe we have arrangements to make,” she said calmly.

        “Yes, we do,” the king replied. He picked up a stack of papers on top of his desk. “I took the liberty of assembling a contract for the annexation,” his hand rested on top of it. “Your input will be valuable.”

        King Bruce handed her the papers. “Thank you very much, your Majesty. I imagine this needs to be signed by the end of the week?”

        “Yes, but I’d rather it was signed today. Forgive me for the rush, but we need your scholars’ help as soon as possible.”

        “I understand,” she replied. “By the end of the day we can sign then.”

        “That’s perfect, Princess Y/N. Jason, escort her to the library so she can read in peace,” Bruce commanded.

        “Yes, Father,” he gritted through his teeth. She could feel his body shaking with anger and resentment and she knew she was the source of it.

        He strode towards the door and flung it open for her. She curtsied to the king one last time, before turning and accompanying her suitor towards the library.

        Jason’s hands were crossed behind his back, his feet heavily stomping the ground. She kept up with him, walking side by side, lifting her dress slightly.

        The walk was filled with strained silence. She started to feel uneasy about the waves of anger coming off Jason, she felt the need to address it.        

        He stopped abruptly and opened the double door standing in front of them, revealing the most beautiful library she had ever laid eyes on. Bookshelves adorned all of the walls, from the ceiling to the floor. The stairs to the mezzanine—once again filled with full bookshelves—were of sculpted wood and she considered them pieces of art. The ceiling had the most beautiful paintings on it, and she wondered who had the patience to paint such a huge canvas. It was all breathtaking.

        “Well, this is the library. If you need anything don’t hesitate on calling one of the help,” Jason said mechanically, snapping her back to reality.

        “Thank you, your Highness,” she muttered, still quite perplexed at the sight. She inhaled deeply and said: “I know this situation isn’t ideal and that you might feel cornered. But, truly, I’m not here to get in your way. I just want what’s best for my people.”

        Jason hummed, his anger somewhat subsiding but still very much present. “Yes, well,” he said, “I think you should get to reading that contract. Wouldn’t want to keep his Majesty waiting,” he finished, voice laced with sarcastic undertones. He turned around and left her alone with the papers.

#

#

It was late at night. The sun was long gone. Her stomach rumbled in hunger; the last thing she ate was at lunch, when she was about halfway through the papers.

         It wasn’t even that long, she just wanted to be thorough. She had read every single line for what it was and all the possible meaning behind it. Kudos to King Bruce for making such a complete and meaningful contract, she had been entertained the entire day.

         She rubbed her eyes, exhausted. She had managed to reorganize the contract after pulling it apart, the small piece of paper with her suggestions resting on top of it. With her hands stained with ink, she picked the papers up and headed towards the door, when it opened.

         “Sir Pennyworth,” she said in surprise, “I wasn’t expecting you.”

         “Your Highness, his Majesty has sent me to escort you to his office. I believe you’ve settled on the final details of the papers?” he announced politely.

         “Yes, I did. King Bruce did a superb job on it,” she complimented. He guided the way towards the office.

         “I’m afraid it wasn’t him who wrote it,” Sir Pennyworth pondered.

         “No?” she replied.

         “I’m sure it was Prince Tim, he’s the one with an aptitude for these endeavors,” he said.

         “Oh, I’m afraid I haven’t met Prince Tim, yet. I’ll be sure to compliment him when I do.”

         “He’ll be excited, your Highness,” he commented. “What did you think of Gotham so far?”

         She smiled sweetly at the older man. “I haven’t seen the city yet, but I found the part I have seen completely charming,” it wasn’t completely a lie. It was charming. Just not as charming as her own kingdom. “The castle, though, I’m mesmerized by it. You have done an incredible job maintaining it, Sir Pennyworth.”

         “Please, your Highness, call me Alfred. Thank you for your kind words,” he smiled warmly.

         “Well, Alfred,” she stressed his name, respecting his wishes, “thank you for escorting me.”

         She stopped as she saw the familiar door, holding the papers tightly. “It’s been my pleasure, your Highness,” he bowed, and left.

         She knocked on the door, calmly. A muffled come in came through and she turned the doorknob. Walking in, she saw King Bruce and three of his sons gathered around a round desk in the corner, a map sprawled out. She curtsied. “Your Majesties, I’m here with the contract and my notes.”

         She saw one of the Princes mouth ‘notes?’ to Prince Dick, (who shrug it off, just as confused) as Prince Jason rolled his eyes at her once more. “Please, Princess, sit down so we can further discuss it,” he motioned to his desk. “Dick, Tim, we will continue debating this tomorrow. Dick, you are dismissed. Tim, stay in case we need to change the composition.”

         Both Princes furrowed their eyebrows. As Dick left the room without a word or bow—which she was sure broke some kind of protocol—Tim decided to sit on an armchair next to the table they were standing before. The door closed with a click and she sat down, the papers resting on her lap gently.

         “I heard you said you have some notes on the text?” King Bruce initiated politely.

         “I mean no disrespect, your Majesty. The redaction was splendid,” she complimented, “I just mean there could be a couple of points added to make it more complete.”

         “Yes, yes,” he agreed, “please make your points.”

         “I agreed to this proposition on the condition of preserving my kingdom’s tradition in academia. While there was a clause in page 5 that stated that clearly, I thought it would be to everyone’s benefit if it was expanded into specifics,” she handed him the contract and the notes.

         He glanced over the notes, Jason reading it too, behind his Father. “I think these are all fair requests.”

         She smiled. A much needed win for her kingdom. “Thank you,” she said.

         “Tim, grab a pen and paper and add these to the text,” Bruce ordered. “We sign this tonight.”

         Tim jumped up from his seat, quickly opening a drawer for the pen and paper, and grabbing her notes. He scribbled furiously and within minutes the new page of the contract was finished, both parties agreeing to it.

         “Now, all there’s left to do is sign,” Tim announced handing a pen to Jason.

         She noticed Jason’s eyes filled with something indescribable, a mix of what she assumed was anger and grief. She wished both of them had a choice, but this was bigger than both. She prayed to the stars that both could make the best of this bad situation.

         He signed, handing the pen to her. Her fingers brushed for a mere second, and she felt heat rising to her cheeks. She quickly recomposed herself and swiftly signed out her name, her kingdom.

         It was done. It was easier than she thought it would be. She hoped she hadn’t made the wrong decision, and there was all that was left to do.

         King Bruce dismissed Tim, leaving just her and Jason in the room. “There’s the matter of the engagement ball,” he stated. “We hope to announce your engagement by the end of next week.”

        “Of course,” she stated clearly. Jason only grunted. 

        “Should I expect both of you to be involved in the planning?” the King asked. It sounded more like an order and she knew Jason knew about that. 

        Jason nodded stiffly. She then turned to the King and opened a polite smile. “Yes, of course, Your Majesty,” she agreed. 

        King Bruce dismissed both of them and Jason ran out of the room. 

         She ran to catch up to him, his long strides almost besting her in a long gown and high heels. “Prince Jason, wait!” she shouted.

         He stopped and turned. “What?”

         If she was taken aback by his rudeness she was sure to not show it. “Since now it’s official, I was wondering if I could tag along to one of your strategy meetings. I might have some knowledge to share or point the way to help.”

         “Aren’t you going to be too busy planning the ball?” he taunted. 

         “I’m perfectly capable of focusing on more than one thing,” she replied dryly. “Gotham is my kingdom now, I want it to prosper. And I want to be a part of it.”

         His face didn’t leave any indications on whether or not he was to grant her permission to participate, so she was surprised when she heard him agreeing. “I’ll arrange for you to participate in one. I’ll send Alfred to tell you details,” he dismissed and turned around once again intended to walk to wherever he was headed.

        “Thank you,” she shouted after him. 

        He hesitated before walking. He turned to her slightly and gave her a smile--and she felt like it was an honest one. He turned back and disappeared. 

 #

#

A gentle breeze blew as she walked down the busy streets of Gotham. Her dress—which she felt was too light for this occasion—blended in with the crowd splendidly. Jason walked beside her calmly, his hands behind his back.

         His face was serene and calm, as if he was truly where he belonged. She thought it as a good quality: it meant he was empathic, not on a pedestal like most heirs. He came from the people and he would serve his people. Her heart fluttered involuntarily. She struggled to contain it.

         The people of the city were quite vivacious and charming. The city in itself was gloomy and, quite honestly, a touch depressing, but the people colored the streets and made it feel almost as if the city was breathing.

         “This is so different,” she said, perplexed by the movement around her. No one as they passed by her noticed who she was, or better, what she was. “They don’t care.”

         Jason smiled. “No, they don’t.”

         “It’s quite magical,” she concluded.

         “It may be to us, but to other people,” he pointed to a couple, both very dirty and very thin sitting on the floor. They tried to get people’s attention, but they just didn’t care, “well, it can be quite awful.”

         She wished she was just as cold as those other people. It would save her a whole lot of suffering but she wasn’t. People’s pains found a way to her heart and became her own. She pushed through the crowd, muttering a few ‘excuse me’s along the way. She took off the only jewelry—a necklace, so simple and delicate; it was one of her favorites—she was wearing and left it in the can the old couple had in front of them.

         She knelt to be at eye level with them and said, looking at their shocked faces: “Sell it, please. It’s worth some money and you’ll be able to buy some food and clothes.”

         Their faces lit up and they thanked her enthusiastically. She smiled at them before getting up and rejoining Jason and continuing her walk. He had the same shock the couple had. He offered his arm, out of politeness she was sure, and her hand rested on the crook of his elbow.

         “Out of all the things I thought you would do, I—” he trailed off.

         “You think so little of me,” she said. “I’m not heartless, you know?”

         “I never assumed that,” he muttered.

         She looked him dead in the eye. His eyes twinkled in the sunlight and once again she had to fight the fluttering feeling in her stomach. “Good.”

         A few beats went by before either of them spoke again. She was the one to break the silence. “Does Gotham have any social programs to help the poor? It would greatly benefit the people,” she added kindly. “If there isn’t, I’m sure I can think of something to help.”

         Jason fought to contain a smile creeping on his face. “I think His Majesty deals with this type of project. You’d have to talk to him,” he said, guiding her back to the carriage.

         “I’ll discuss it with him then,” she said, impassive, her lips quirking up at the end. “Have you arranged for me to participate in the meeting?”

         Jason sobered up quickly. He couldn’t show her that he found her amusing. He couldn’t be so transparent. He didn’t want a wife, he repeated to himself. He didn’t need a wife, he tried to convince himself. This girl was not for him, she was too good. “I did.”

         She smiled. “Great. I’ll catch up on studies so I can understand everything.”

         He hoped he had remained impassive, because he couldn’t control the plethora of feelings inside his heart. Fuck.

 #

#

Jason paced in his office. Tim watched him closely, studying his brother.

         “Why are you so exasperated?” Tim questioned. “I’m glad you like her, otherwise you would have led a horrible life.”

         “That’s exactly my point,” Jason said, running his hands through his hair. “I don’t want to like her, Tim. She’s too good for me.”

         “How do you know that? You’ve barely even met her,” Tim leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs.

         “I just fucking know it, Tim,” he snapped, yelling at his brother. “It’s bullshit, that’s what it is. I wasn’t supposed to be in this situation, I’m not supposed to fall in love and get married and have a white picket fence life, goddammit. Look at me” he motioned to himself, looking straight into Tim’s eyes, “I’m a fucking disgrace. I’m a monster who kills people without remorse, I’m—”

         “Enough with the self-pity, Jason!” Tim got up abruptly, matching Jason’s volume. Jason’s mouth promptly shut. “Stop it. You’ve wallowed in it since Bruce told you about the arrangement, I won’t allow it anymore,” he added quietly. “You know none of what you said is true, you know it,” Tim walked to his brother and rested his hands on his shoulder. “Fuck what you think, Jay. Fuck what everybody else thinks, okay? You’re already getting married to her no matter what, let yourself like her. It’s the least you could do.”

         “I can’t—” Jason inhaled sharply recomposing himself. “I don’t know if I can like her the way she deserves.”

         “Then try. Isn’t it what you’ve spent your life doing? Trying? Try this too. What’s the worst that could happen?”

         “She hates me and I have to be married for the rest of my life with someone who hates me,” he didn’t say that that was his greatest fear. That he never wanted to be like his parents, fighting and bickering and beating each other. Showing their worst to the world. Having a kid and traumatizing him to the point he’d hardly trust someone.

         “So, you’d be just like another royal,” Tim tried to lighten up the mood. He noticed Jason’s somber expression and quickly sobered up.  “She doesn’t hate you. She’s trying so hard to please you, to prove to you she’s a worthy addition to the family, can’t you see?”

         “She’s not doing it for me,” Jason got out of Tim’s hold, turning his back to his brother. 

         “She may not, but she’s trying hard, when most wouldn’t even bother. That’s something, Jay,” Tim completed. 

         Jason didn’t complement Tim. He had enough with the talking and the convincing. Tim sighed sadly, and left the room, leaving Jason to sulk alone.

#

#

Between setting everything up for the ball, arranging the wedding ceremony, learning everything she could about Gotham recent history, and everything else she had taken upon, she was completely and utterly occupied. 

        It was for the better though. The more she was doing, the less she stayed inside her head, thinking about herself and letting her anxiety and doubt eat her inside. She had done the right thing, she kept reminding herself. She had done the best thing for her people, they would prosper, they would not suffer anymore. 

        And yet, there was always a little voice telling her that she had signed her people’s death sentence. The more she learned about Gotham, the more she read about its history and its horrors and its corruption, the more she thought she had condemned her people to a life in misery. Look at the amount of homeless, she thought, why did Gotham have so many homeless people, so many kids?

        No. No. No. She wouldn’t allow herself to get nervous. She was sure in her decision, and Prince Jason had proven himself to be reliable, even if he was distant. When she asked him a favor, he did it. When she asked him a question about his lands--Park Row--he would answer it truthfully. It was more than she could have expected in an arranged marriage. Most of those ended up in misery, both parties unfaithful to their spouses. She knew Prince Jason wouldn’t seek pleasure and comfort elsewhere. She felt it. 

        As soon as she stopped in front of Jason’s improvised study in Gotham’s main castle, Prince Tim opened the door. She could see Jason gazing through the window, his back turned to the door. 

        “Princess Y/N!” Prince Tim exclaimed, surprised. “I wasn’t expecting you to be here.”

        She saw Jason tense and turn to them. She smiled. “I have a couple of things to discuss with Prince Jason,” she explained. 

        Tim chuckled. “Yes, yes, of course,” he shook his head and said with an airy smile on his face. He turned to Jason and shared a look. Jason looked like he could kill his brother. Tim stepped out of the way and let her enter the room. She entered and Tim left closing the door behind him. 

        She stared at him. He looked tired, the bags under his eyes casting shadows over his face. But somehow, his eyes looked brighter than she had ever seen it before. She has trouble breathing and her heart beated faster inside her chest. She swallowed dryly, her hands gripping tightly the papers she carried. She curtsied to him. Follow protocol. Protocol is safe, it doesn’t make anyone nervous. 

        “You wanted to see me?” he asked, his voice strained. 

        “Yes, well,” she snapped out of her daze, “there’s still a few details to be decided for the ball.”

        He sighed and sat on his chair, his body looking exhausted. “Can’t you decide?”

        “It’s not only my ball,” she said. “I can’t decide for you, Your Highness.”

        “Don’t call me Your Highness,” he muttered, annoyed. “It’s weird. We’re going to be married,” he explained. “I don’t want to have protocol in the middle of it.”

        She looked down at her feet and back up at him. There went her comfort, the line she drew to not get too close. It was a business transaction after all, no need to get personal. Well, she figured, it got personal when she promised herself as a bargain coin for politics. “Yes, of course,” she whispered. “It won’t happen again,” she finished.

        He sighed. He mentioned for her to sit in front of her and she sat. “We need to establish some rules before we embark in this...journey together,” he stated. 

        “Of course,” she agreed.

        “I don’t want you to be restrained by protocols and etiquette when speaking to me,” he said softly. “We’re going to rule a kingdom together, one that just got bigger, we’re going to have to trust each other.”

        “I agree,” she said, hesitant. “What is your point?”

        “Call me Jason,” he said. “I never really liked my title all that much and I don’t want my future wife using it when talking to me,” he stated. It was the first time she heard him referring to her as his future wife, and he said it like it didn’t bother him. It sent butterflies to her stomach. 

        “Yes, you’re right,” she shook her head. Of course he was. Her parents never called each other by their titles when they were alone. “I suppose you’d want to form a friendship too?”

        His mouth quirked up. “That would be preferable, yes,” he said. 

        “Okay, then, Jason,” she stressed his name. “Then we should start this partnership deciding which colors do you want the napkins to be.”

        “Actually,” Jason started, “I have something to give you first.”

        She raised her eyebrows. “You do?”

        “Yes,” he breathed. “I wanted to start this on the right foot,” he pulled out a little velvet box from a drawer behind the desk and walked to be beside her. “Since we’re engaged, I thought it was only appropriate to give you an engagement ring.”

        She looked up at him, surprised. “You didn’t have to,” she shook her head. “I wasn’t expecting this.”

        He smiled at her. “Open it,” he urged her. 

        She picked up the box and opened. Resting inside it, she noticed, was the prettiest ring she had ever seen. There was a single ruby, sided with two simple diamonds. It wasn’t the flashiest and biggest engagement ring she ever saw--one of the ladies of her court married a rich duke from a far away kingdom and he had given her a diamond ring that almost covered her entire finger. “It’s beautiful,” she said, staring at it.

        “Allow me,” he said, picking the box, and slipping the ring on her finger. His hands lingered on hers longer than it should have. “There.”

        She stared at it for a bit longer. “I have no words, Jason.”

        He smirked and walked to his chair. “How about we decide the color of the napkins?”

        He knew he shouldn’t have done that. He was getting involved, he was cultivating feelings for her, feelings he had refused to have just mere minutes ago when he was talking with Tim. But when he was with her, he couldn’t help it, he was just swept away by her. Suddenly, around her, Jason wanted to do everything to please her, to make her happy and satisfied. 

        Jason knew he was in deep shit. Jason knew he was falling for her, and he wanted, consciously, to stop that. But he couldn’t: his heart spoke louder. 

        He wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

 #

#

They had walked side by side the entirety of the ball. Her hand rested in a variety of places, the crook of his elbow, his hand, or the skirt of her dress. It didn’t need any saying that her favorite place for her hand to be was in his. 

        Nevertheless, the fluttering it sent to her stomach every time he would smile at her--albeit she knew the smile was only for show--it didn’t diminish the anger she felt at him.

        They walked side by side all night, him telling a fantasious story about how they met. It was love at first sight, he’d tell. They’d met under the moonlight, a sky full of stars, he looked at her and knew she was meant for him. She wore a blue dress, according to him. She smiled at him and it was like a whole new world opened up to him, a world full of love. According to him.

        The worst part was that she couldn’t say anything. Because she didn’t know anything about the lie he had constructed, what he had told other people when she was talking to his brothers while he was talking to Kings of other kingdoms. And that was what made her angry. He had reduced her, at least for the night, as a mere accessory for him. 

        He had been so sweet with her, so charming and loving. And then he did what he did. It could have been worse, she thought. He could have been invasive, he could have ignored her ‘no’. In that way, he was an angel. But he was still shitty with her that night. And it didn’t matter that it could have been a million times worse, Jason had reduced her to an arm candy. She still felt like an object. That would never be acceptable to her.

        He took her to the dance floor, as the orchestra played a slow song. 

        “It was a charming story you told our guests,” she said, her voice impassive. 

        “I figured it would be better for them to think we’re marrying for love instead of what actually is,” he explained, his hand resting on her lower back and the other holding her hand. She ignored the feeling his touch sent through her body. 

        “I wish you would have told me,” she said, her voice strained. She tried to control her anger. 

        “What do you mean?” he asked, confused. 

        “I discovered you had concocted a story for us at the same time all the others did, Jason,” she said. “And I couldn’t say anything, in risk of exposing the lie you’ve built.”

        He looked at her confused for a mere second, before recognizing what he did. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t think--”

        “You didn’t,” she interrupted him. “I’m not an accessory, Jason. I’m far too smart for that role,” she said. “I can’t stand by your side and smile and wave as if it’s just all I can do. I came to Gotham expecting not to be numbed by antique expectations of women of royalty. And you forced me to fit that box tonight. I hate it.”

        “I’m truly sorry,” he said sincerely. 

        “Yes,” she nodded. “Next time you decide to lie, at least tell me what you’re planning. After all this is a partnership, we agreed on that. We can’t act behind each other's back.”

        “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, squeezing the hand he was holding more tightly and bringing her closer to him. “It won’t ever happen again.”

        “Good,” she nodded. 

        She knew he was trying to charm her with his tight hold on her. She tried to stay mad at him, tried to remain impassive, but she found that she felt safe with his arms around her like that. She broke a shy smile at him. He smiled at her too, his eyes bright with something unrecognizable. 

#

#

She sat quietly in the corner, a notebook resting in her lap. Her fingers twiddled with the pen, as she listened attentively to what the council members had to say.

         It was refreshing to be intellectually stimulated when she’d spent the entire week deciding dumb details about the wedding. It didn’t matter what flower arrangement the church was going to be decorated with, or which color the napkins were. She really didn’t care about it. If it were up to her she’d be married in a tiny room with no party. But it wasn’t, so she complied.

         “—we need to send humanitarian help to the Bowery, the people are starving!” Lady Helena exclaimed, cutting Tim in his long rant about something overly complicated.

         “We can send help after we eliminate Scarecrow!” Tim replied just as loudly. “If we send food, the gang will intercept and the situation will get worse, Helena. Don’t you get it?”

         “What I get, Tim,” she said annoyed, “is that you are so entangled in your overly complicated plan to dismantle their operation that you are blind to the suffering of your people.”

         Tim got up abruptly from the table, angry at Lady Helena, his fists balled up like he was going to punch her. Dick rested a hand in his brother's arms, calmly guiding him down for him to sit. Tim sat with a thud, his eyes flaming with rage, his face red.

         Jason, who was awfully quiet the entire meeting, sighed and rubbed his hands on his face. He leaned forward on the table, looking defeated. “And here I thought we’d make a good first impression,” he mumbled.

         “It’s okay, your Highness,” she said respectfully, thinking it would be better to use his title in front of the committee instead of his name. “In fact, I think I might have the solution to the Bowery problem.”

         Tim scoffed. “Good luck with that. I’ve been trying for the past year to solve it and I’m nowhere near to the solution.”

         She ignored his comment. “Anyway, I remember reading something about Scarecrow in my dad’s files. I’d need to reread to be sure, but I know there’s a safe way to provide supplies for those in need.”

         Jason clasped his hands together. “Great! We’ll discuss details at the next meeting after we get those files.”

         “If you don’t mind, I’d rather pick those up myself,” she said 

         “Sure, I’ll ask Alfred to arrange the trip,” he dismissed. “Well if there’s nothing else to discuss, this meeting is finished.”

        The council members disbanded leaving only her and Jason in the council room. 

        “What did you think?” Jason asked, his voice tired. 

        “They mean well,” she started, “but I can see that they’re desperate for results. And desperation in these situations isn’t a good thing.”

        “I know,” he sighed, his hands running through his hair. “I know, I’ve tried telling them but it never works in the long run.”

        She smiled. “Good thing I know how to help,” she said. 

        “Yeah,” he sighed. “It’s good that you’re here.”

#

#

He knew it was coming. He thought he was prepared for it. He thought he wouldn’t feel anything when he saw her walking down the long aisle, he hoped he wouldn’t. But when Jason saw her in her white dress, walking towards him, his heart stopped for a second and the world stopped turning. 

        She chose to walk down the aisle by herself. She wanted to show she wasn’t led into any decisions. She was doing this by her own accord, her own judgement. Jason thought it showed a lot of her character. She stood by her decisions and its consequences. She was strong. He admired her, more than he cared to admit. 

        Jason could barely remember the ceremony. He couldn’t stop looking at her, memorizing every detail of her in the light of the Gotham Cathedral, the crown she was wearing, the embroidery in her dress. But most importantly, the look in her eyes. It was everything to Jason. 

        He couldn’t exactly place what it was yet, but it was there and it meant more to him than he realized it ever could. 

        He floated through the ball after the ceremony. It was weird to call someone his wife, he never thought he would see the day he could call someone that. But Jason found that it didn’t repulse him like it would have before he met her. He was left with a tingly sensation of joy inside him. 

        It scared the daylight out of him. 

        He kept a tight grip on her, walking side by side. She was enchanting. She talked smartly with Kings of neighboring kingdoms. He heard King Clark of Metropolis commenting to Bruce how perceptive the new princess was. How intelligent she was. 

        Jason knew all of that, but it still didn’t stop him from being mesmerized. 

        “Who’s that gentleman?” she nodded towards an old man on the corner of the room. 

        Jason hummed looking at the man. “That’s Oswald Cobblepot. He is a part of one of the oldest families of Gotham.”

        “He has been staring intensely at me for the entire ball,” she looked at Jason, whispering to him. 

        “Well, you are the future Queen,” he commented. “People will stare at you more.”

        “No,” she shook her head, her hand resting on the crook of his elbow. He guided her through the ballroom. “This is different. He looks at me like he hates me.”

        “Oh,” he said. “He has a…quarrel, if you will, with the Waynes. His family was one of the few that founded Gotham. The Cobblepots almost ruled the land, but the Waynes got the kingdom. They have hated our family since then.”

        “Now that I’m a Wayne, he hates me?” she asked. “This doesn’t feel right.”

        “Well, technically you’re a Todd-Wayne, but yes.”

        She hummed. “He seems suspicious, Jason,” she whispered. “I think he’s planning something.”

        “Cobblepot is a coward, he would never hurt you,” Jason reassured. “But he would pay for someone to do so.”

        “You think he has?” a twinge of panic rising in her voice. 

        “He has done that before,” Jason said. “He wasn’t supposed to be invited, but Bruce insisted, and I had to dislocate more guards to the ballroom because of him.”

        “Can you keep an eye on him?” she asked. “I have a bad feeling about him.”

        “We always keep an eye on him, Y/N” he whispered. “He’s a criminal.”

        “What?” she said, shocked. He guided her to the dance floor, as a soft song played through the room. 

        “We have undercover guards track him everywhere,” he stated quietly, as if no one was supposed to know. “We have to every criminal mastermind this city has ever had the pleasure to meet.”

        “That’s a lot of guards then,” she commented. 

        “It’s a fucking nightmare,” he laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anyone get to you, love.”

        She looked at his eyes and smiled. “Thank you, Jason.”

        “I’m your husband now, Y/N. It’s my duty,” he said.

        She smiled shyly at him and glanced at their feet for a second before looking back at him. “I never thought…”

        He smiled at her. “What?”

        She shook her head, smiling at him, completely lost for words. “Nevermind.”

        He sighed and tightened his hold on her. “I didn’t say this yet, but you look breathtaking today,” he stated, clearly. 

        “You look beautiful too,” she replied. 

        He gaped at her, like he wasn’t expecting the compliment. He quickly recomposed himself. “Well, I guess we make a breathtakingly beautiful couple then,” he joked. 

        “I guess we do,” she looked deeply into his eyes, smiling softly. Her eyes glinted with something different, something familiar and warm. But something he couldn’t quite name yet. 

        He found that he looked forward to the day when he could.

#

# 

She had dismissed the maid that would help her get rid of the dress. She was too nervous to deal with anyone else. She paced in front of her vanity, waiting for Jason to come in their room. 

        It was so weird to think that now there was a ‘they’. They were a couple, they were a unit.  It was a first for her, and she hadn’t had the time to think about it until all of the whirlwind of the wedding had passed. 

        “I thought you would have been out of that uncomfortable dress by now,” she heard him. She turned to see him. His shirt was unbuttoned, his tie hanging untied on his neck. He carried his jacket over his shoulder. He looked relaxed and comfortable, and she got even more nervous looking at him.

        “I was nervous so I sent Claire away,” she shrugged. 

        He took a step in her direction. “What are you nervous about?”

        She sighed and pressed her hands together over the skirt of her dress. “About us,” she whispered. “I didn’t think of the after. I didn’t have the time.”

        He smiled and took another step towards her, finally close enough to her. She could see perfectly the sincerity in his eyes. She could see the scar above his eyebrow and the tiny freckles on his nose. “You don’t have to be nervous about anything,” he reassured her. “I won’t do anything you don’t want to do.”

        “It’s not only that,” she said, shaking her head. “I’ve never done this before. This…” she hesitated, “partnership. I know things are different for men.”

        “I don’t see how,” he furrowed his eyebrows. 

        “You know how,” she snapped. “Men are praised for their sexual endeavours. Women are expected to remain pure until marriage,” she explained calmly. “And it’s not fair to either of us, you have an unfair advantage over me and I--,” she stopped herself.

        “It’s okay,” he whispered. “You can say it, I won’t be hurt.”

        She shook her head. “I don’t know how to do this, Jason,” she admitted. “I’ve never even been kissed before.”

        He smirked. “That’s easy to resolve,” he stated. His hands cradled her face and he leaned in, stopping just before their lips met. “If you want, of course,” he whispered, his breath mixing with hers. 

        Her breath got caught up in her throat. She wasn’t expecting him to be that direct. She thought he would seduce her first, like in the romance novel she had read. She’d rather his directness. “Yes,” she whispered. 

        He smirked and clashed his lips with hers. She closed her eyes and grabbed his shoulders tightly. His lips were surprisingly soft on hers, and she wondered what would happen if he decided to kiss with more passion instead of holding back. 

        She decided to, then, take the first step towards that direction. Her hands moved to his hair and she brought his lips closer to hers--which she thought it was impossible. She responded with more passion and more eagerness and he was shocked for a second before complying. 

        One of his hands moved to her waist and pressed her body closer to his. She opened her mouth just a little and his tongue licked her lips, entering her mouth slightly. She felt a wave of heat invade her, and she let it in pleasurably. His mouth started to make way down her neck, his fingers on her back, fumbling with the buttons of her dress.

        She felt panicked at the intimacy of the act and tensed. Jason felt her nervousness and stopped. “We don’t have to go further if you don’t want to,” he whispered. 

        “It’s too much,” she replied, her voice strained. “It’s not you, Jay, I’m just not ready.”

        He cradled her head, and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I’d wait forever for you,” he said. “I can wait until you’re ready.”

        She gave him a shy smile. “Thank you,” she said softly. 

        “You’re welcome,” he said. “Now, let me undo those buttons and get some sleep,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

#

#

The carriage shook as they rode through the country towards her kingdom. She looked out of the tiny window at the horizon, admiring the view. 

        “Did you miss home?” Jason asked. 

        She looked at him. “I did miss my Mother, and my friends,” she said, “But I don’t know if it’s my home anymore.”

        “What is home then?” he asked, curious. 

        She searched in his eyes any indication of his intentions with that question. She found nothing but admiration and warmth and--if she’d be so bold--love. “I’m not sure yet,” she said. “When I found out, I’ll tell you.”

        “Please do, I’d like to visit that place,” he laughed. 

        Now that they were officially married, they had moved back to Jason’s residence in Park Row. They were almost completely disconnected from the Wayne Castle in the outskirts of the city. Park Row was in a part of the city called Old Gotham, some would say it’s the heart of the city, right in the center, the most populous part. Others would say it’s the cancer of the mechanism of the town, littered with homeless and thieves.

        Jason was born in Park Row. His parents were simple people. He didn’t give her much detail on who they were, and she could feel it hurt to talk about that subject so she didn’t push him to say anything. All he would tell was that his Father died first, and he was left as a child to help his sick Mother and him survive. 

        He became a pickpocket at age 8. His Mother died when he was 9. He lived on the streets up until he was 13. That was when King Bruce found him and took him in. Jason said he was trying to steal one of the wheels of his carriage when Bruce arrived and offered him shelter and food. Next day, he was already adopted and enrolled in classes. Next day he became a prince. She wondered what it was like for him to have gone through such a radical change in the span of a day. 

        He disappeared when he was 17. He was especially cagey about his time away. No matter what questions she asked he wouldn’t answer any of them. She wanted to attribute it to mystique, but she knew it was because of trauma. 

        When he came back he was a changed man, a stronger one, a more traumatised one. That was when he started to disagree with his Father more. He would question the methods Bruce would use in his hunt for justice in Gotham. He would question everything Bruce did, in Jason’s exact words. He didn’t detail anything and she started to notice a trend in his behavior: when something hurt him too deeply, he would barely talk about it. 

        Next thing he knew, he agreed to be the heir, he accepted the role his older brother left for him. He said it was because he knew better than any of his siblings how it was to be on the streets and suffer like most in Gotham. He would do better by them, and she believed in him. Wholeheartedly. 

        “So, what’s the plan of attack here?” he asked. 

        “We go in, say hello to my Mother and go to my Father’s study and look for the files,” she said. “It’s a dangerous mission, be careful,” she joked. 

        “We should have called for backup,” he said, seriously, embarking on her joke. “Maybe 1,000 soldiers would have sufficed.”

        “More like 10,000,” she laughed. “Seriously, we’ll just spend the afternoon going through dusty paperwork,” she said. “It’s going to be quite boring.”

        He smiled. “Nothing’s boring with you,” he stated. 

        She smiled back. “I quite disagree, but I appreciate the compliment.”

        The carriage halted to a stop. Jason opened the door for her and offered his hand for her to come down the steps. She accepted it and stood proudly by his side. He offered his arm and she took it. He led her towards the staircase that led to the main entrance of her castle. She could see her Mother standing there waiting for her. 

        She had her problems with her Mother, but she still loved her. She left Jason’s hold and ran up the stairs to meet her Mother. She panted when she finally got up the stairs, but nevertheless, she held her Mother in a tight embrace. “I’ve missed you,” she whispered. 

        “You shouldn’t have run,” her Mother said in her ear, her voice humorous. “What would Prince Jason think?”

        “Jason would think I love my Mother and I’ve missed her,” she stated. “How have you been?” she said, breaking the hug.

        “I’ve been okay,” Mother answered. She looked behind her daughter and her expression became impassive. “Your Highness,” her Mother said. “It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

        Jason smiled at her mother. “The pleasure is all mine.”

        She smiled at her husband and at her Mother. “Shall we get inside?”she suggested. “Jason and I have to go through Father’s files.”

        “Oh, those things?” her Mother said. “Good luck, I know he left those completely disorganized.”

        “I remember,” she muttered. “It’s going to be a nightmare,” she said to Jason. 

        “I don’t mind,” Jason stated. “We can spend as long as we want here,” he gripped her hand. “This is important for us back in Gotham, it’s important to be thorough.”

        “Well,” her Mother started, “I’ll leave you two to work then. I’ll send in some tea for you.”

        “Thank you Mother,” she said, watching her Mother disappear into the corridor. She turned to Jason and smiled. “Shall we?”

        He bowed slightly and said: “Lead the way, My Lady.”

        She smiled and started getting up the stairs, Jason right beside her. 

        It was charming how much Jason’s behavior towards her had changed so much in a relatively small amount of time. When she had first met him, she feared a loveless marriage, with a husband cold towards her. But, slowly--or as slow as it felt--he had shifted. He started being less sarcastic and more truthful. He would still make sarcastic remarks, but never directed towards her. Jason started being soft and understanding. It was weird to think of a man so big and rough as him as soft and gentle, but it was how she saw him. 

        She knew he had his insecurities. He had told her once. He had told her he was reluctant to trust her, that he thought he didn’t deserve her. She said he was selling himself short. He replied that she didn’t know most things that he had done. She thought that it didn’t matter because she was falling in love with him. 

        Love. What a strange feeling. What an overwhelmingly dangerous feeling. It had changed her entire view of the world. She was much more willing to happiness, to the tiny beautiful things of the world. She saw things colored pink. She knew this effect would pass, but she would enjoy it while she could. 

        She felt his hand brush hers. She looked down at their hands, barely touching and then looked at him with a smile. He looked forward, his face impassive, like he had no idea what he was doing. She held his hand and he squeezed it.  Her mouth quirked up slightly. 

        She led him right to a giant double door. She released his hand and opened the door, revealing her Father’s office. 

        It was considerably smaller than King Bruce’s office, but it still held an air of authority. Behind the main desk there was a big window that had a view of the castle entrance.   Both side walls were bookcases, from the ceiling to the ground. In the middle of the room was the King’s desk, untouched. 

        “Nobody has come in here since he died,” she said quietly. “Except me.”

        “I’m sorry for your loss,” he replied. 

        “It’s fine, it’s been a long time,” she sniffed. “I just miss him.”

        Jason remained quiet, examining the room. “Anyways,” she said. “I’ll get those files, and we’ll start looking.”

        She pulled a book in the middle of a bookcase. The bookcase retreated and it revealed a big safe. She opened the safe and revealed piles and piles of papers, untouched for years. “Will you help me?” she asked, picking a pile. 

        He picked up another big pile. He rested it on the floor. “We can pick more up after we go through these,” she said, sitting on the floor. “We’ll be entertained for a while.”

        They spent hours reading. She started a system to organize the files into topics. Those that treated about economic affairs were separated into one corner of the room, those of the political affairs into the other. The political affairs were separated into topics: internal politics, external, and finally security. Those were the ones they had to nitpick through. She catalogued it in criminals: Penguin, Riddler, Two-Face, Scarecrow, the lot. 

        She had through those files at least once in her life. It was interesting to read through once, and she could see Jason was fascinated about the operations her Father had led once. But she found it a bit boring, like she had predicted. Nevertheless she persisted. It was more important than her entertainment. 

        “Y/N” he called for her, “look at this.”

        She got up from the ground and walked towards him. She had discarded her shoes long ago and was almost tempted to change into some pants. “Yes?” she asked. 

        “Is this the file you talked about?” He gave her the document. 

        She scanned through the document. It detailed how they had managed to successfully cut off supplies for the fabrication of the fear gas in her kingdom and how, with that, they had managed to ban Scarecrow from there. “It is,” she said. “I can’t believe you found it, I thought we would spend another day looking for it.”

        “We already did that,” he said. “We already tried stopping the production of the gas, we discovered an antidote for it, it didn’t stop Crane.”

        She smiled. “It’s not only that,” she explained, turning her back and going to the internal affairs pile. “You can’t stop only Crane, you have to redirect his soldiers to a more positive occupation,” she found the file and gave it to him. “See?”

        He read through the document quickly. “But we have social programs in Gotham, it still--”

        “You have and those social programs are great,” she said. “But it’s not enough for you to take care of the children and the homeless, you have to take care of the poor, those who struggle to get a job and do whatever it takes to not be helped by those social programs.

          “You have to direct those men and women to better jobs, give them better chances, educate them and then you’ll defeat Scarecrow fully,” she finished

        “Because then they’ll know better than to join him,” he whispered. “It’s brilliant.”

        “It’s how you stop them,” she smiled and sat on his lap. “This is the beginning of the end, Jason. We’re on the right path.”

        “How didn’t we think of it?” he asked himself. Her hands found his cheeks, caressing it gently. 

        “You were too focused on the short term solution, and it’s okay,” she assured. “Now, you can do better.”

        “I will,” he looked into her eyes and he said. “Thank you.”

        “For what?” she asked, confused. 

        “For everything,” he whispered. “For agreeing to give up being the sole sovereign of a land to joining Gotham and be its Queen, for being so wonderfully smart, for being patient with me for umm--”

        She interrupted him, kissing him with passion. She stopped the kiss and rested her forehead on his. “You don’t need to thank me, Jay,” she said. “I’m doing what’s right.”

        “For that I love you,” he responded. She tensed at those words. “Oh, shit, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to--”

        “I love you,” she said. “I love you,” she kissed him with a passion. 

        “Is it too soon?” he mumbled on her lips. “Is it too soon to say that we love each other?”

        “I feel like I’ve waited all my life for you,” she mumbled back. “So, no.”

        “Great,” he whispered. 

        Then he kissed her like his life depended on it. His kiss was filled with a fiery passion she had never felt before. Granted she hadn’t kissed much in her life, but nevertheless this was a new first for her. 

        His tongue made an entrance in her mouth and she felt a fire run through her. She returned his passion, gripping the base of his hair. He moaned against her mouth, bringing her closer to him. He gripped her waist with determination as his lips moved swiftly against hers. 

        He tilted her head upwards and his mouth kissed its way to her neck. She hummed and as he bit a sensitive part of her skin. “Jay,” she moaned. 

        “If you want me to stop, I will,” he replied, his mouth still on her neck pecking where he had just bitten. 

        “Don’t stop,” she said. 

        “You shall have your wish, then, My Princess,” he smirked and kissed the corner of her mouth. 

        She got impatient and grabbed his face, smashing his lips on hers. She kept on kissing him, running her hands through his hair. He fumbled with the buttons of her dress and she didn’t feel like tensing and running away. She wanted him to continue to fumble with the buttons, she wanted him to open those buttons and take off her dress. 

        “Jason,” she mumbled. 

        He hummed in response, his lips leaving hers. He kissed all over her face and she giggled delighted. 

        “How about we take this elsewhere?” she suggested, trying to be seductive. 

        He smirked and looked at her softly. “Are you sure?” he asked. 

        “Yes, I am,” she affirmed. “I’m ready.”

        He smiled and kissed her lovingly. “I love you,” he whispered, he got up and started carrying her towards the door of the office. He couldn’t stop kissing her even if he tried. 

        “No!” she exclaimed. “There’s a secret bedroom next to here.”

        “Is this castle full of secret passages?” he mumbled, his lips trying to find hers like a magnet. 

        “Yes,” she breathed out. “Pull that book,” she pointed to a book in the top corner of the last shelf of the last bookcase. 

        He pulled the book and the bookcase retreated revealing a simple wooden door. He opened it and it revealed a King’s bedroom. 

        “My Father slept here after he pulled all nighters,” she kissed his neck gently. “After he got sick he barely came into the office so it’s been unused for years.”

        He smiled and lifted her chin. He looked in her eyes lovingly. “Are you really sure?” he asked once again. “I don’t want you to regret anything.”

        “How can I, Jason?” she said. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.”

        He smiled at her. He closed the door behind him and they laid together. 

        To think one day he had questioned how he could want a wife. He hadn’t met her before. He hadn’t known he was destined to meet such a wonderful person, determined and strong. He hadn’t known he was meant to love her. 

        He had been too naïve to think he wouldn’t need her. He needed her more than he needed air, water, food. And he knew she needed him. It was a partnership after all. They needed each other, they trusted each other, and they loved each other.

#

#

author’s note: don’t forget to reblog if you’ve liked to make sure more people see it. also, the link to my jason playlist is here

[amor-immortalem]

Can I Stay Up Here With You Forever ch.4

Previous

Taglist: @mediocredetective

Warnings: Mentions of past child abuse and neglect

“So, what’s the plan for today? Or are we jus’ stayin’ home all day?” Mammon asks as he lugs the suitcase he brought with him into the bedroom and opened some dresser drawers to put his clothes away.

“I figured we could go out and explore more of the city together. Plus, I want to get a few more pieces of furniture to fill out the house.” Arella runs a hand through her hair as she stretches. “Breakfast was great, by the way. Thank you.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t that good- not compared to last night’s dinner anyway...”

“Don’t put yourself down like that, Honey.” The human gets off the bed to hunt for some clothes of her own. “You’re cooking is good, okay?”

He nods slowly. “Not if you ask my brothers though... One of ‘em always has something ta say ‘bout it- and none of its good. Even Beel has complaints sometimes.”

She frowns in response. “Well, I’ll have you know I genuinely enjoy your cooking. I wouldn’t mind if you cooked for us more often.”

Another nod from the demon as he returns to his task of emptying out his suitcase and Arella continues her search for the perfect outfit.

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“Where is he, Solomon,” The Avatar of Pride questions the sorcerer as he stands in the foyer of Purgatory Hall.

“I’ve already told you, Lucifer.” Solomon replies with a smile on his face. “I don’t exactly know. The human world is the best answer I can give you.”

The demon studies the human for a moment to deduce whether or not he’s lying about know where Mammon is. “Where in the human world?”

“I don’t know. Arella wouldn’t tell me where exactly she was summoning him to.” It’s a tiny lie. Of course, he knew exactly where they were, but Lucifer didn’t need to know that. “I have no reason to lie to you, Lucifer, but why exactly is it that you want to find your brother so badly?”

“I want to... apologize for my actions. It seems, after further review of the situation, that I was wrong. The bill I received was full of fraudulent charges to his credit card. Does that change your answer?” The first-born narrows his eye as the silver-haired sorcerer shook his head. “Then I’ll be off. If you hear anything, I want to be the first to hear about it.

Solomon only nodded, an amused smile playing on his lips. He wondered just how long it would take the demon to pinpoint Mammon and Arella’s location.

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They bounced from shop to shop throughout the day finding many cute trinkets and knick-knacks on their journey. The cutest ones- and Mammon’s personal favorite- was a set of crows sitting on a tree branch together, their bodies turned away with their heads pressed together so that they formed the shape of a heart. He instantly picked it up after Arella made the comment that the crows were representative of them and their love.

As their small shopping spree came down to an end, they had stopped to take a break in a park, just taking a moment to rest and enjoy the beautiful day. It filled Mammon with a warm feeling he wasn’t quite sure he could name just yet so he just opted to hold her hand as they relaxed on the park bench as a few small families played nearby.

His attention in particular was pulled to one certain family: A mother and father with their three boys. Watching them drug up a desire he thought he’d never have.

“Hey, babe,” He starts quietly.

“Yes, Love?” she hums in response.

“Do... Do ya want kids...?”

“Do you?” Arella replies with a question of her own, green eyes peering up at the demon.

“I asked you first.”

With a chuckle she answers, “Yes... having children with you wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. I’d love to one day down the road. How many do you want?”

“Just one would be good enough,” He smiles, resting his cheek against the top of her head as they sit there in peace for a while longer.

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Sitting in his office, attempting to keep his mind off Mammon, Lucifer was working on his ever-growing stack of paperwork. It wasn’t working and something in the back of the demon’s mind was gnawing at him. Something Arella had said to him roughly a month ago about stealing his brother away to the human realm and never returning. A laughable idea for as much as he knew she wasn’t joking; she really held no power to make that decision. Mammon was a demon- one of the seven lords of hell. His place was here in the Devildom whether she liked it or not. Mammon himself had to realize this was all pointless eventually and then he would come home and that would be the end of it. Or at least that’s what Lucifer hoped anyway. He really didn’t want to have to drag his brother back here kicking and screaming.

Stepping away from the old, worn-out desk, the eldest decides a break for tea and a phone call might do better to take his mind of things for the time being.

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Putting up her dusty old tomes on various mythologies of the ancient past, Aubrie could just barely hear the phone. Hopping down off the ladder, the mythologist swiped up the device- a gift from the only demon in her contacts. He was lucky she didn’t have it turned off like she usually did while she was working.

“Good evening, Lucifer,” Holding the shiny D.D.D. to her ear, she answered with a chirp. “To what do I owe the honor?”

“Good evening, Aubrie.” Lucifer’s voice is smooth as silk and Aubrie has to wonder if he just naturally talks like that or he was using that ‘seductive speechcraft’ Arella had mentioned some time ago to get whatever it was that he wanted from their conversation. “Have you spoken to Arella recently?”

“I have. You know she just moved from England, right?” The ginger chirps. “I texted with her this morning to see how it went.”

“Actually, I didn’t.” The Avatar of Pride hummed as he sipped on his tea. “That’s interesting. Where abouts did she move?”

“I wish I knew. The best I can say is somewhere in mainland Europe,” Aubrie lets out a sigh. “I want to go visit her. I can’t imagine how lonely it is to move to an entirely different country where you’re alone- although for Arella that’s pretty on character...”

“She does seem independent,” Lucifer hums, “I’m sure she’ll be fine. Actually, that’s part of the reason I called. I’m sure she told you that my brother’s with her when you spoke earlier... I need her to send him back. He can’t be missing so much school- his grades are already abysmal to begin with and the longer she keeps him up there, the worse they’ll get. Plus, I have things I need to talk with him about.”

“She's worried about his safety with you, Lucifer. Apparently, you broke his elbow somehow? Or something to that effect.”

“I didn’t break his elbow. No, he did that on his own by falling on it, but my actions helped lead to it so I have some blame in it.” The black-haired demon sighs, “That’s why I’m looking for them. I want to apologize to Mammon- he didn’t exactly deserve what I did that led up to him breaking his elbow.”

The human nods at that. “And here I thought you would be too proud to apologize.” She teased.

“If it were anyone other than my brothers, maybe.” He admits. “But in their own way, each of my brothers are important to me. We’ve been together for eons. Losing a single one of them would be devastating to our family, Aubrie. Like right now, the house has been too quiet and dark since Mammon left for the human realm. Things aren’t right until he comes home.”

“I see, but if you knew your brother would be happier up here in the human world with Arella... would you let him go?”

“I can’t- and it's not because I don’t want him to be happy, quite the opposite, actually- if we were not of such high rank and standing, then I would be content to allow Mammon to follow what makes him happy- whether that be here in the Devildom or up in the human world to allow him to live amongst the humans.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm sure Arella has told you about our rank here in the devildom. We’re each to rule over a layer of Hell once we leave RAD in a few years. Mammon has a responsibility to the Devildom as Lord of the Fourth Layer. It's not a thing that he can just leave behind in favor of spending the rest of his human’s minimal lifespan up in the mortal realm.”

“You could be less harsh on him though. I know our morals on what is wrong and right are different and it’s foolish for us to force our morals on to literal demons from some of the stories she mentions about the way you all treat your brother... Well, it sounds like abuse to me and for someone like Arella, that’s very triggering for her.”

“What do you mean by that?” Lucifer’s interest was piqued at the human’s words. He knew next to nothing about Arella’s past before the exchange program and she never talks about her past to begin with so having the opportunity to hear about it was enticing to the Avatar of Pride.

“Her home life when we were children was... less than happy. Her mother was physically, emotionally, and verbally abusive as well as neglectful. I have plenty of pictures from when we were children where she’s covered in bruises, black eyes, busted lips. She would never say anything against her mother so protective services couldn’t do anything for her, but we all knew that woman was the cause of them. So you see, the way you treat your brother drudges up all that old trauma for her and that’s why she behaves the way she does. Wouldn’t you do the same thing if you were in her shoes, Lucifer?”

“You’re not wrong.” He goes to take another sip of his tea but the cup is empty. “This was nice and also very insightful. I have to go now, enjoy the rest of your evening, Aubrie.”

“Thank you, Love. You too. Make sure to go to bed a reasonable time tonight.” There was a short pause on her end before Aubrie began sputtering apologies and trying to back pedal her way out of that embarrassing situation and the line eventually just cut off.

Lucifer couldn’t help but laugh softly at the ridiculousness of it all. Humans sure were a funny creature.

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