#or would be be too consumed by his investigation

[livinghalfway]

Younger Years Pt. 4

Masterlist

Summary: Damian gets temp de-aged to 6yrs old; cue him asking where his twin is. This is how everyone finds out about Danny's existence Word Count: 2088

Explaining to them what Talia had said did not make the situation any better. While her information had been helpful it wasn’t nearly enough to calm the storm that raged in them. If anything caused the winds to roar even stronger. They had to know what happened in that room, and the only one that knew was currently 6 years old. Which meant everyone would just have to wait; something this family was never good at especially when it came to personal matters. 

“Talia doesn’t know what really happened to Danyal. Ra’s could have just lied to her, and made Damian swear to never tell her the truth. We all know how much he idolized that man. It would have been easy for Ra’s to convince him it was for the best.” Tim suggests as he types hurriedly at the computer. 

“If Talia thought for a second that he had done something like that it would have come to light by now.” Bruce counters, “Ra’s would still have needed help getting Danyal out of Nanda Parbat, and one of them would have most definitely let it slip to Talia if he had done that.” 

“Which is why Ra’s would have everyone involved killed before they could have done so.” 

“Tim-”

“Crazier things have happened Bruce; multiple people in this family have come back. Why not Danyal?” Tim looks away from the screen for but a second as he interrupts Bruce before focusing back on the screen. A clear sign that he doesn’t want to continue talking about this. 

Bruce leaves Tim to continue his investigation; a part of him hoping that Tim is right. He could never admit that though. It would just be that much more crushing if proven wrong. So he turns attention to Dick, who is still near the med bay ready to rush in if need be.  

“Chum, why don’t you take a rest? Damian is perfectly fine right now, and you look like you need a break.” 

He knew that the reveal of Danyal’s death would hit Dick partially hard as someone who was very protective of his younger siblings. It wouldn’t matter to him that Danyal died before he even knew of his existence. Bruce expected Dick to be consumed with sadness right now. He wasn’t though he was overcome with fury. 

“A rest Bruce? We all just found out that Damian’s twin is dead; that Ra’s did something to make sure Damian wouldn’t tell anyone. And you want me to take a rest?” Dick eyes burned into him as he spoke. “I’ll take a rest once I know what that psychotic old man did.” 

Bruce knows Dick well enough to read between the lines of what his son is saying. He’s angry at Ra’s, yes, but Dick’s angry at himself too. He’s probably wondering why Damian never felt comfortable enough to mention such a big part of himself to them. 

“And we’ll make sure Damian knows that whatever Ra’s said or did was wrong, but you look exhausted right now. At least let me bring a chair over here for you to sit in.” Bruce calmly states to his eldest son. 

It looks like his words haven’t calmed Dick in the slightest, but before he can speak up again a chair is being pulled up next to Dick by Jason. “Jesus Christ Dick, just sit down already. And that’s me agreeing with B on something so you should know that it's not just the old man saying some b.s.” 

It doesn’t take much for Jason to force Dick to take a seat; one hard shoulder shove and he was collapsing into the chair. After which Jason pulls his own chair up next to him. “I’m gonna need you to put an end to this little pity party in the corner, Dickiebird.” 

“I’m allowed to be upset, Jason. We just found out that our brother is dead, and I should have been able to do something. 

“You think I don’t get that? The only difference between us right now though is that I was there; I could have done something to save the kid if I had known.” 

“Jaylad-” 

“No Bruce, if Dick here wants to blame himself for not doing something then he can blame me too.” Jason gives Dick an annoyed look then turns his head towards Bruce, “You’re free to get out of here old man. Can’t believe I’m the one that’s gotta talk some sense into Dick here.” 

He really doesn’t want to leave this conversation where it’s currently at, but when Dick gives him a nod he knows that he should withdraw. Bruce does make a mental note to ask about how the discussion went later; for now though he’ll do as they want.

So for now he moves on to check on his final son, Duke, before doing so though Bruce stops by his office once more for a moment to just sit and think. Once there it doesn’t take long before he is reaching into the bottom drawer where he keeps a bottle of whiskey hidden away. When he doesn’t feel it though Bruce knows that Alfred must have taken it. 

Of course Alfred knew he had it; that man knows everything that goes on here. 

It’s for the best that it’s gone anyhow he doesn’t need to be repeating past habits from when he lost Jason. That’s the last thing this family needs right now; not when there are still so many questions that need answers. 

In the end it’s Duke who seeks him out first. A mere 10 minutes goes by where Bruce is sitting in silence before a few light knocks echo against the walls around him. After announcing that the person knocking entrance Duke almost hesitantly approaches him. His habit of always tapping his fingers on whatever he was holding a dead give away for how nervous his son must be feeling right now. 

“Hey B,” Duke started, “everyone seems to be going through it right now huh?”

“It would appear so. What about you chum? How are you doing with all this?”

“I’m … not fine, but I know that that’s ok; I don’t think anyone wouldn’t be somewhat affected by the recent news. I actually wanted to talk to you about something else though if that’s ok.” 

Bruce takes a quick steady breath preparing himself for whatever this conversation may bring. “Of course, what did you want to talk about?”

“About what’s going to happen afterwards; when we find out the truth from Damian. Because- If Danyal is … dead then I think asking Damian about who Danyal was as a person, and setting up a memorial of sorts might help everyone with their grief.” 

“That,” his throat feels tight, “that sounds like a wonderful idea, Duke. I’m sure Damian- everyone would appreciate having a setup for Danyal in the manor.” 

Duke seems satisfied with his answer, and with a small smile makes his way out of the office. Before he leaves though he says one last thing, “I’d also make time to call Cass and Steph to give them an update on this before they get home.” 

After that the silence once more takes control of the room while Bruce thinks about the what if’s and the could have been. 

He’s not sure what the future holds for them now, but Bruce does know that whatever comes they’ll deal with it; together. That means he can’t keep sitting here in sorrow; he can’t fall apart again. 

“It’s time to get to work,” is his last thought as he leaves to make his way back to the cave. 

-

The rest of the day seems to go by in a blur, and not in a good way. Damian spits fire anytime anyone steps into his room. He has only willingly allowed Alfred inside to deliver food to him, and even that was met with cautious anger. 

At the very least Damian isn’t trying to escape; some piece of evidence they showed him must have convinced him that what they were saying was the truth. That conclusion is a double edge sword though as now Damian for sure knows that Danyal is gone. Why else would his brother not be here?

Red Hood and Red Robin are the only ones that go on patrol when the time comes. Dick refuses to leave his station at the med bay door knowing that Damian could be transferring back to himself any time now, and Bruce doesn’t want to leave him by himself if that does happen tonight. The two don’t talk much while alone in the cave, but Dick does allow Bruce to momentarily take his place at the door while he takes a moment to refresh himself. 

While it doesn’t actually happen that night the family is definitely in for a surprise when they check in on Damian the next morning, and find the now normal 14 year old boy asleep on the bed. 

Everyone had to hold Dick back so that he wouldn’t wake him up, and in the end it was Alfred who finally managed to convince him to let Damian rest without interruptions. Unfortunately for the sleeping child though this only gives the rest of the family more time to think about what they’re going to ask, and heaven knows he already has a lot to answer for.

-

Damian feels himself slowly waking; his body feels stiff and slow when he attempts to sit up, but otherwise fine. He knows he must be in the med bay since the last thing he remembers was being on patrol with Nightwing and encountering a blinding light. 

When enough of his strength finally returns to him he cracks his eyes open to see his father and brothers all looking at him with varying degrees of concern. Whatever happened must have been a lot bigger than he had originally thought if they are all here with him.  

Slowly he rubs a hand across his face and groans out to everyone in the room, “What happened?” 

No one says anything for a few beats. In fact they all seem to avoid meeting his eyes entirely. Eventually though his father clears his throat before speaking in a voice far too soft and gentle, “Well chum, you got hit with a spell while on patrol. It- It reverted you back to your 6 year old self.”

Oh. 

Oh no. 

That was probably the worst thing he could have been told right now as Damian thinks back to what he was like at that age; to who had been by his side since birth. There is absolutely no way that his long gone other half wasn’t mentioned, or brought up in however long he was in his younger state. 

“I’m frankly surprised to see you all still standing. I was very dedicated to the league at that age.” He’s not going to admit to anything just in case he is wrong though. Danyal is not someone who Damian is ready to speak about. His twin, his brother, and his biggest regret; he’ll never forgive himself for being so brainwashed by Ra’s that he allowed Danyal’s death that day. That he was prepared to do it himself because the older man said it was for the best. 

“You did manage to break Jason's nose!” Duke lightly chuckles as the mentioned man throws a glare, but otherwise remains silent. Followed by more deafening silence from everyone else. 

Dick is the one that finally brings up the elephant in the room, “Dami … who’s Danyal?”

Why did he have to be right about them knowing? Ready or not it seems the truth about Danyal was coming to light it seems. “Danyal was my twin; the other half- the better half of me. I understand that now.”

His eldest brother gently grabs his hand, and holds it in a firm embrace of comfort. He’ll allow it for now. “And what happened to him?” 

Damian can’t keep his past hidden anymore, and Danyal deserves to have his story told. “When we were 10 Gran- Ra’s took Danyal and I away from our studies early one afternoon. He said that he had a couple lessons of his own that he wanted to teach us personally.” 

For one it was a life lesson, and for the other a death sentence. 

… 4 years ago …

“Damian, Danyal, come. You two are about to learn what it truly means to be an Al Ghul.”

[aka-tua-braindump]

Me: trying to figure out how to fit in smut between the canon events of vault 33 during the series.

Like would norm even want to get down or would he be too involved in his investigation???

A welcome distraction? Or not? I don't even knowwwwwww

He seems like the kind who would hyperfocus and not want distractions...

[rottenfyre]

⸻ ᴛ ʜ ᴇ ʙ ᴀ ᴛ ᴍ ᴀ ɴ ⸻

Pairing: Adult Damian Wayne x Fem Reader

Headcanon: how would he be when he's obsessed?

Note: English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

Damian doesn’t fall in love; he descends into it with the same calculated intensity he approaches a fight. It begins innocuously—a mission gone awry, your paths crossing in Gotham’s shadowed streets. You’re a private investigator, clever enough to evade trouble yet stubborn enough to find it anyway. The first time he saves you, it isn’t out of compassion. It’s practicality. You’re in his way, a civilian caught in the web of crime and darkness that Gotham weaves around its inhabitants.

But something about you clings to him after that night. Maybe it’s the way your eyes, so defiant, didn’t flinch when he loomed over you in the Bat suit. Maybe it’s the sharpness of your tongue when you told him you didn’t need his help. For Damian, who grew up in shadows and blood, your fire is intoxicating. You aren’t a mission or a tool; you’re a puzzle, one that he can’t put down.

Damian begins to watch you. Not out of lust—not at first—but out of necessity, he tells himself. You’re reckless, and Gotham devours the reckless. He starts with the basics: tracking your movements, hacking into your phone, listening to your calls. He justifies it as protection. It’s his duty to keep you safe. After all, you wouldn’t last a week in Gotham without his silent interventions.

But it doesn’t stop there. He learns your habits—the café you frequent, the books you read, the way you twist your hair when you’re lost in thought. He doesn’t realize when protection turns into possession. All he knows is that the idea of you existing outside his control fills him with unease.

For Damian, love isn’t soft or tender. It’s consuming, an ache that claws at his chest. He’s never been good at moderation. Raised by the League of Assassins and tempered by the Bat, he only knows how to want completely or not at all. And he wants you.

It starts small—fleeting glimpses of a shadow that seems too deliberate, too familiar. You convince yourself it’s paranoia. Gotham does that to people. But then there are the gifts. A book you mentioned in passing appears on your doorstep. A necklace you admired once in a shop window finds its way into your apartment.

He tailors his interactions with you, ensuring he always appears just when you need him most. It’s a slow burn, one he orchestrates with the precision of a symphony.

But in the quiet moments, his thoughts spiral. He imagines you—laid out beneath him, vulnerable and bare, trembling as he whispers that you belong to him. He dreams of your gasps, your pleas, your moans as he claims you in ways no one else ever could. And these fantasies? They become impossible to ignore.

It’s why he starts leaving little reminders of himself in your life. His scent lingers on the gifts he leaves, his hands brushing against yours just a moment too long during your brief encounters. He needs you to feel him, even when he isn’t there.

And then there are the rescues. Every time you’re in danger, Batman is there. Too quickly, too conveniently. You’re not sure whether to feel grateful or unnerved. The way he looks at you, even through the cowl, sends shivers down your spine. His gaze lingers a moment too long, his touch steadying you when you falter but holding on just a bit too tightly.

Damian doesn’t believe in limits—not when it comes to you. When a petty criminal threatens your life, he snaps. The Bat code—his father’s code—is forgotten. He breaks the man’s arm without hesitation, the crack of bone echoing in the alley. He would’ve done more if you hadn’t screamed his name.

That’s when you realize something is deeply wrong. Batman isn’t supposed to lose control. But Damian doesn’t care. He tells you it was necessary, that Gotham doesn’t follow rules, and neither can he when it comes to you. His voice is calm, but his eyes burn with something you can’t name.

One night, you find yourself in danger again—a gang cornering you in a dark alley. By now, you expect him to come, and he does. He’s a shadow in the night, a whirlwind of brutal efficiency. But this time, when the last thug is down, he doesn’t leave. Instead, he steps toward you, towering over you in his suit, his green eyes glowing behind the mask.

“You shouldn’t be out here,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

You snap back, angry at his audacity. “I can take care of myself!”

He’s on you in an instant, his gloved hand gripping your arm—not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to show you he’s in control. “No, you can’t,” he snarls. “You’re reckless. Foolish. You don’t understand how fragile you are.”

The tension crackles like a live wire. He’s close—too close. You can feel the heat radiating from his body, the intensity of his gaze burning into yours. And then it happens: his lips crash against yours, rough and possessive, stealing the breath from your lungs.

It’s not a kiss born of tenderness but of desperation, of need. His hands grip your waist, pulling you flush against him as he devours you like a man starved. When he pulls back, his eyes are wild, his voice trembling with barely restrained desire.

“You drive me insane,” he admits, his words raw and honest. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

After that night, Damian’s control unravels. He stops holding back, his obsession consuming him entirely. He starts appearing at your apartment unannounced, stepping out of the shadows like he belongs there. And in his mind, he does.

His touches grow bolder. A hand on your lower back as he guides you through a crowd, fingers brushing against your thigh as you sit together. He delights in the way you shiver under his touch, even if you won’t admit how much you like it.

But it’s not enough. He wants all of you—your body, your mind, your heart. He begins orchestrating moments where you’ll need him: sabotaging your car so he can give you a ride, pulling strings to ensure no one else can get close to you. He wants you dependent on him, tethered to him in every possible way.

And when he finally has you—when you’re beneath him, his name a broken whisper on your lips—he feels whole for the first time in his life. He takes his time, mapping every inch of your body, leaving bruises and bites as proof of his claim. His voice is dark and velvety as he whispers in your ear, “You’re mine. You’ve always been mine.”

He begins isolating you, subtly at first. Friends cancel plans, your phone malfunctions, and job opportunities slip through your fingers. He doesn’t trust anyone else with you—not Gotham, not its people, and certainly not your own judgment.

When you confront him, his response is chilling in its sincerity.

“Everything I’ve done is to protect you,” he says. “You think you’re safe on your own? Gotham doesn’t care about you. But I do. I always will.”

You try to leave, but Damian is always a step ahead. He knows your every move, every thought before you act on it. He doesn’t hurt you—not physically. His control is far more insidious. He makes you doubt yourself, your reality.

Eventually, you stop fighting. It’s easier that way. Damian doesn’t celebrate your surrender, but you see the satisfaction in the way his shoulders relax, the ghost of a smile on his lips when you stop flinching at his touch.

In his mind, he’s saved you. You’re safe in the gilded cage he’s built for you, even if you don’t see it that way. He tells himself you’ll come to understand, that one day you’ll thank him for his unwavering devotion.

And in the quiet moments, when his arms are around you and his voice is soft in your ear, you almost believe him.

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[anim-ttrpgs]

something I don’t get about the disability metaphor is that for eureka monsters obviously it harms another person to eat them. the help a disabled person needs doesn’t actively harm or kill another person. Maybe it’s a difference in perspectives that cannot be resolved

(What I’m about to write could potentially sound very fucked up at first so I’m going to need to trust everyone to read the whole thing before forming an opinion.)

Also this message and response references these two posts.

Eureka’s stance on disabled people is that they (including myself writing this) are, or at least can often be, burdens.

Disabled people often require more resources to live than they are able to “give back,” which, in our capitalist and artificial-scarcity-based economy, is just about the worst thing a person can do.

Anti-ableism sentiment often focuses on the idea that “disabled people aren’t burdens, that they’re just as good and capable as everyone else,” but if they were, they wouldn’t be “disabled” would they? When you say stuff like that, you’re conceding that a person’s worth is determined by how capable they are at doing work, and then having to bend over backwards to justify thinking that a person without arms is just as valuable as a person with arms. Eureka is asking you to decouple a person’s value from how much net resources they can produce.

Often times also, the resources that real disabled people consume are human resources, and those human resources are very much capable of suffering for it. Nurses are overworked, around-the-clock care is absolutely physically and mentally exhausting, people who have to care for their elderly or otherwise disabled relatives on top of their regular jobs don’t get to have social lives or hobbies, etc.

To this end, we wrote the monsters in Eureka to be unquestionably people who “cause damage” to society by literally eating up human resources, because they have to to live, they have no other choice unless they want to just die. Your friend is gone from your life because he has to spend all his free time caring for his comatose wife after a freak car accident. Your friend is gone from your life because a vampire randomly ate him. Providing a metaphor isn't all the monsters are doing, they just work well through that lens.

And then Eureka forces you to look at these people as people, and make up your mind as to whether they have value and a right to prologue their own existence. We can’t force you to agree that they do, but if you think they don’t, then you’ll have to make that argument looking at an intelligent person with a life rather than a pure hypothetical or statistics on a chart.

There are some monsters in Eureka where, if the economy or societal structures were changed, they would stop being such severe drains on resources and could exist harmlessly within society, and there are some monsters where no imaginable amount of societal change would solve the problems they cause. This is true of disabled people IRL as well. Some of them would require no further assistance with living if certain things about society changed, and others would still require a massive amount of human resources.

And even when it’s not necessarily human resources, the extra resources that disabled people need also cause huge energy expenditure and create huge amounts of plastic waste, which are things that contribute to global warming and pollution, which do have significant harmful effects on everyone’s lives. Despite this, they are still “worth it” to keep around.

As for actively causing harm, that happens too. I randomly scrolled past this post after we got this message and saved it so I could link it here.

This person and their family had to cause a big stink in a restaurant just to get an accommodation that they needed, and to us reading it from their perspective, we’re obviously on their side, but I can assure you that the overworked staff at that restaurant didn’t see it that way. They saw the disabled person as an aggressive Karen whom they would never in a million years want to have to provide customer service to. The disabled person & family had to get aggressive, and ruin the staff’s day, to get what they needed. That’s actively causing harm - harm we all agreed was justified to cause - but harm nonetheless.

Plastic straws aren’t that big of a deal for global pollution, but even if they were, the point is that this person still would have needed a straw. It doesn’t line up one-to-one, because metaphors rarely do, but a vampire asking if they can drink someone’s blood, and being told No, may find themselves in much the same position. (And if you bring up that some people find vampires really sexy, you’re missing the point. “I would give them a straw if they had sex with me.” is not actually a great thing to announce about yourself.)

I can also come up with an example from my own life. I personally am very sensitive to noise and noise pollution. If there’s music playing at a public space, I usually can’t handle it. (Earplugs don’t work for other reasons I won’t get into - plus, if I just deafen myself to all sound, how can I socialize with anyone in this public space?)

If I want to exist in this space, I will have to actively cause harm to everyone there, or else stop existing in that space. I will have to go up to whoever is responsible and ask them to turn off the music, actively taking it away from everyone else who was enjoying it. I have to take action to ruin their good time if I want to exist in that space at all, and they might, very understandably, be pissed off at me for doing that. Because, like I said in this other post, the people that monsters eat do have a right to prevent themselves from being eaten by monsters. We aren't proposing that the solution is everyone has to line up to be mauled to death by monsters or else they're a bad person.

Who has a greater right to enjoy themselves in that space? That’s the kind of question that Eureka poses, and makes you consider both sides as human being rather than denoting one as just an ontologically evil villain to be destroyed.

We actually don't know of perfect solutions to all the problems presented by the existance of monsters in Eureka, we just know that "exterminate all people who are parasites and burdens to society" ain't it.

[pellucid-constellations]

Azriel with single mom reader? I feel like being a single mom in ACOTAR would be tricky as hell... reader comes from autumn court and flees to night court because she got pregnant out of marriage? 😯 the shame

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: ~950

Warnings: Nothing yet, maybe just a little angst

a/n: Okay I know this is a drabble but this is definitely getting more parts like I am attached to this storyline now and LOVE that you requested it 🤗

Read part two here

____________________________________________

You leaned against a pillar just outside the school, a twitch creeping up your hands until your fingers spasmed. You shoved them under the bend of your elbows, crossing your arms and biting into your lip. 

She was fine. 

She was more than fine—Velaris was safe. 

Anything would have been safer than facing your father’s wrath back in Autumn, but you had gotten extremely lucky with the timing of your escape. Falling pregnant with your daughter had not been in the cards, especially not after a single night of rebellion, but with Velaris’s doors opening up just days after your healer broke the news, something seemed to be written in the stars. 

But every day was still a gamble; your father could find you at any time. 

The past five years had been a miracle, if you were being honest. 

School was supposed to end two minutes ago. 

Your foot began to shake, popping your knee up and down and making your body vibrate with the anxiety that consumed you. 

You shouldn’t have let her go to school. 

Melanie only had a few friends—neighbor kids whose parents you had vetted extensively—but that had been enough for her to get the idea into her head. You had planned on homeschooling her, or at least waiting until she was a few years older before letting her out into the world. Unfortunately, that had not been Melanie’s plan, and Melanie had so many wonderful plans. As most five-year-olds did. 

Gods, what if—

“First day?” a rumbling voice made you pause your nervous fidgeting. The man spoke again. “If you’re worried, don’t be. The teacher is great. Just forgetful when it comes to time. They are typically a few minutes late every day.” 

You swallowed and turned around despite every voice in your head telling you not to. But those voices in your head were completely and utterly wrong about a multitude of things. Behind you, you found a man—an Illyrian—with wings an ungodly size and shadows swirling down his legs and onto a uniform pool along the ground. And he was gorgeous—unabashedly gorgeous in the most devastating way. 

You looked up from your blatant investigation of him, meeting his eye and stuttering out, “Oh. That’s… that’s good to know. Thank you.” 

If he noticed your stutter, he didn’t make any sign of it. Instead, the man with the wings and the shadows blinked several times, furrowed his brows, and took a step back as if to steady himself. Perhaps, if you weren’t a bundle of unreasonable nervous energy, you would have found his actions strange, but you were. So you simply offered him a superficial, airy laugh and uncrossed your arms. 

“I—” the man began, but he seemed to lose his train of thought, a heat traveling up his cheeks in a way that looked foreign. “I’m Azriel.” 

Oh, wonderful. Introductions. 

You tried your hardest to stay very far away from very many people. It was the best way to keep yourself hidden. You couldn’t avoid the neighbors, and you supposed you couldn’t avoid fae like Melanie’s teacher, but this was different. 

Shit. 

You offered your name, anyway, afraid of appearing too outlandish in an otherwise casual setting. 

It would be fine. 

This was fine. 

Azriel repeated it in a breathless way, but then the school bell rang and something seemed to click in his brain. The small smile that had curled up the corner of his mouth became hard and he shot his eyes quickly one way and then the other, inspecting your surroundings. 

Maybe this wasn’t fine. 

“Are you a new mom in the area?” Azriel asked. 

All of your nerves shifted to guarded unease. “I am,” you offered, not caring if it was almost a lie. 

“The moms here don’t usually do the pick ups alone.” 

“You’re doing a pick up alone, it seems.” 

“I’m picking up my nephew,” Azriel explained, relaxing his posture, making himself smaller, seemingly gauging the building tension. “I didn’t mean to come across—I just asked because the mothers here typically have help. From their mates or partners. From the father.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, your next words tumbling out before you could catch them. “Well, I’m alone.” 

Double shit. 

Azriel seemed to let out a breath, his shadows whipping around along the ground. 

You braced yourself for further questioning, for the judgments that would surely follow, but then you were attacked from behind by a pair of arms wrapping around your knees. You turned quickly, scooping your daughter into a hug and promptly dismissing any further conversation with the stranger. 

“Hi, Mel,” you smiled, tucking her hair back as you subtly looked her over. “How was school? Did you like it?” 

“I loved it!” she excitedly replied. She rambled on a bit more after that, retelling her day by the minute. 

You felt eyes on you the entire time. A small boy had run and jumped into Azriel’s arms in your peripheral, but even as the boy talked and talked just as Melanie did, you felt the occasional glance your way. And some of Azriel’s shadows had to be reigned in multiple times, the small wisps licking at your ankles. 

The teacher suddenly spoke up and you were eavesdropping, straining your ears to listen in on her greeting towards the Illyrian.

“Oh, Azriel, lovely to see you. We were hoping the High Lady would be picking Nyx up, but this is even better. There is a showcase in a few weeks that—” 

You felt your world freeze. 

High Lady. 

You had been speaking to someone in close relation to the Night Court. You let someone know your name, told them you were alone with a child, and they had direct access to the High Lord and Lady. 

You whisked Melanie into your arms despite her protests and beelined it home. 

Shit. 

part two

[sakuravalelp]

Don't eat anything else - Part 2 - DP X DC

Previous part

Masterpost

This is the only chapter where I'll tag people. Please, if you want to follow the story from this point on, follow the master post :).

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"You both should stop eating the food." Came Babs voice through the comms. "Danny asked Tim to not eat anything else. We suspect the food may content poison."

Bruce subtly shared a look with Cass before returning to nodding at Masters' proud rambling about his latest contract. They had both stopped eating long ago. The soup was good; Masters’ words about Danny being a good cook weren’t a lie. However, Bruce couldn’t identify the chunks of meat in the soup.

He initially thought it was pork, though the texture seemed somewhat similar to veal. By the fourth piece of meat he ate, he could confidently say he didn't recognize it. When he looked at Cass, he saw her using her spoon to play with one of the pieces of meat on the edge of the plate, a frown hidden behind her polite smile. He was sure then that the meat couldn't be one they had tasted before.

Bruce has tasted every kind of meat that should be available to Masters. He has even tasted exotic meats that Masters would probably never encounter, having represented humanity in intergalactic meetings as Batman. Not being able to identify the meat discouraged Bruce from eating more, and it seemed to have had the same effect on Cass. They had kept their food mostly untouched, using the excuse of waiting for Tim and Danny to return before eating. It was a good call; the meat being poisoned could be the reason it was unrecognizable.

"If any of you feel any symptoms, turn off your comm." None of them made a move to do so, and after a couple of minutes Babs continued, "I'll call Bruce in 10 minutes to create an excuse for you guys to leave."

Bruce would have liked to think that they had not yet consumed enough poison for it to affect them, but there's always the possibility of it being a delayed-effect poison. If Masters' plan with the poison was to kill them, then a delayed-effect poison would allow Masters to avoid being immediately connected to their deaths.

However, Masters shouldn’t have a reason to kill Bruce Wayne and his wards. Unless the man had discovered that they were investigating his contracts, which Bruce doubted. It was more likely that the poison was some sort of chemical restraint or chemical submissive, which would explain why Masters' contracts always seemed to end ridiculously in his favor. It would be easy to make such deals with someone who was drugged to be more agreeable with you.

Not that Bruce would be willing to take the risk to find out, especially with Cass having also ingested the tainted meat. He was glad he had brought the poison antidote kit with him. Despite this, Bruce wasn't sure about cutting the visit short, at least not for all of them. Tim had been gone with Danny for a while now, and if Danny had informed Tim about the food, they were probably exchanging information at the moment. Maybe Tim was in the process of offering Danny help, and Bruce didn't want to interrupt that.

"Renovations will be starting next week, and I'm sure the place will end up being quite popular," Masters finally finished his rambling.

"It sure sounds like it will. You certainly got yourself a great deal with Kensington, Mr. Masters. I'm curious, what is your negotiation method?" Bruce asked, hoping to gather more information.

Masters had been surprisingly adept at avoiding any conversation about the negotiations themselves, always sidetracking the discussion or giving half-answers. Drugs in the food was a good hypothesis and would be the best outcome for them, as such substances usually shouldn’t take too long to get out of their system.

Yet, it didn't explain how Masters' business partners seemed to stay committed to their contracts long after they were made. The furthest they had gotten from them was confusion about how they had reached the point where they accepted the contract's conditions. However, they all seemed convinced they had gotten the best outcome possible, despite obviously getting the short end of the stick.

It pointed to something besides drug usage. Maybe Masters got blackmail material from them while they were drugged? It would be easier to draw conclusions if Masters had even the smallest slip about it.

Masters smiled, taking a sip from his wine. "Ah, it takes years of practice, Wayne. It isn't something one can learn in a day, and only those with the capacity can master it," he said. Then, before Bruce could ask any follow-up questions, he continued, "Now, Daniel and young Mr. Drake sure seem to be taking their time."

"Oh, that doesn't surprise me," Bruce said, shaking his head with a fond smile, playing farther into his "Brucie" persona while lamenting the lost opportunities to get more leads on what Masters was doing. "They're around the same age. Surely they got distracted talking about whatever is of interest to kids their age these days."

"I would be glad if my godson got along so well with your son, Mr. Wayne," Masters said with a practiced smile, though a hint of calculation flickered in his eyes. He gestured vaguely with his wine glass, his tone deceptively sympathetic. "The loss of his family hasn't been easy for him, and building a connection with someone like Mr. Drake could be beneficial. However, it is quite rude to leave the guests waiting. As his guardian, I must address this. I’ll go search for them." Masters stated, standing up from his seat.

Luckily, Bruce didn't need to interject to stop Masters from interrupting his son's conversation with Danny, since the two boys appeared by the door as if summoned by Masters' comment. Danny visibly tensed the moment he spotted Masters standing in his place.

"Daniel, it's good you're finally back. I was about to go search for you," Masters said, throwing Danny a stern look.

Danny opened his mouth, probably about to apologize for the wait, but Tim beat him to it.

"So sorry, Mr. Masters. I had to take a shower before changing clothes."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Mr. Drake," Masters said as he looked Tim up and down, evaluating if what Tim was saying was true. His eyes lingered on Tim's wet hair for a moment, and the tension in his eyes relaxed a bit. "It is Daniel's fault for throwing the soup on you. Now, shall we continue with the dinner?" Masters sat once more on his chair.

"Should—" Danny started, slightly stuttering when Masters' eyes returned to him. "Should I serve new portions? Since the ones on the table are probably cold by now?" the intensity of Masters gaze increased with every word Danny said. In response, Danny lowered his gaze to the floor, and shifted nervously.

Danny's voice was way too small by the end of his sentence, but Bruce could sense some hidden urgency in his tone. Remembering that Danny was the one who had warned them about the food, Bruce could infer that he was trying to further prevent them from eating it. It gave Bruce the impression that Masters had also caught onto that fact, given how tense the man was.

He was grateful for the kid doing their best to protect them, but lamented putting them in a position where they had to risk confronting their abuser. Bruce really hoped Tim had convinced Danny to leave with them. It shouldn't be difficult to create a reasonable invitation for Danny after Masters' comment about how he was isolating himself.

"Good idea," Cass said with a gentle smile directed at Danny before Masters could make any move.

Masters' eyes narrowed slightly, but then he nodded. "Very well. Daniel, go ahead."

As Danny hurried to the kitchen, Bruce shared a subtle glance with Tim, who was retaking his seat beside Cass. Unfortunately, instead of the nod indicating that they could get Danny to leave with them if they created the opportunity, Tim just shrugged. It wasn't the sign for Danny refusing help, but the one for things being more complicated than they seemed. Bruce sighed, and before Danny returned from the kitchen, his phone rang. He excused himself to answer Babs' call, lamenting not being able to take Danny with them.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Bruce came back from his brief call with Babs with a worried face that Cass knew wasn't the one he made when actual "family emergencies" happened. It was exagerated and dramatic, it screamed "something terrible had happened," and was perfect for this kind of situations. Bruce quickly ushered Cass and Tim out, apologizing to Masters for the hasty departure. They barely had time to say goodbye to Danny, who had hurried back from the kitchen after Masters had shouted about seeing off the guests.

Cass noticed a subtle shift in Danny’s demeanor as they prepared to leave. His shoulders dropped slightly, and there was a fleeting look of relief in his eyes. However, that relief was overshadowed by the palpable fear that clung to him; his tense posture betrayed the anxiety he was trying to hide. It was hard to leave him behind, and Cass almost ran back when she caught sight of Vlad’s possessive hand on Danny’s shoulder and his venomous, angry eyes as she was walking out the door.

As soon as they were in the car, Tim immediately began checking the vehicle and himself for hidden microphones, with Bruce and Cass following his lead with little more than a raised eyebrow. Tim’s decision to search for bugs made sense once he explained that Danny’s room had been bugged,

"Honestly, Danny's so careful with his actions and words everywhere, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole property is bugged."

The drive back to the house they had rented was tense, the atmosphere in the car thick with unspoken concerns. Tim decided to use the ride home to update them on what he had seen. In turn, Bruce spoke about the dinner with Masters, detailing their regrettable failure to extract any additional information from the man. The evening ultimately boiled down to the suspicion that the food had been poisoned. Cass remained silent, not feeling up to talking.

She had her doubts about the food being poisoned; even if the poison hadn't shown any symptoms, her past training should have allowed her to identify it if she had consumed it. It seemed unlikely that Masters possessed a poison so sophisticated that she couldn’t detect it, and the thought only deepened her unease. She though back to how their hosts acted at the start of the dinner.

Danny looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes darted nervously between them and Masters, his hands trembling slightly as he served the food. The guilt and fear radiating from him were almost palpable, as if he believed he was committing an unforgivable sin by offering them the meal.

Masters, however, didn’t seem like he was planning to poison them. He behaved more like Damian’s classmates had when they once tried to trick him into eating non-vegan food at a gala. His smile was too easy, his gestures too casual, like someone who thought they were pulling off a harmless but cruel prank. It felt like he was purposely feeding them something he knew was outside their comfort zone and ethical beliefs, testing their reactions with a detached amusement.

From the very beginning, Cass had felt a deep discomfort about the food. The way Masters and Danny acted around it had set off her internal alarms. When she took the first bite of the meat, something immediately felt off. The texture was unfamiliar, and the taste was oddly unsettling—not in a way that clearly indicated poison, but in a manner that was subtly disturbing, she didn't know what she was eating. It made her skin crawl, and she couldn’t bring herself to take another bite.

The car coming to a stop in the house’s garage jolted Cass out of her thoughts. They all exited the vehicle, and Jason’s motorcycle was parked beside them as he opened the door. tightly clenched jaw. Like the rest of them, he was frustrated by their inability to take Danny with them, but he wasn’t vocalizing it because he was also worried about what they had eaten.

Once the door was opened, Bruce was ready to rush into his bedroom to get the poison antidote kit, but Jason stopped him,

"Hold on old man, I want to know what the note the kid gave Tim says. It may even say what poison was used; save us time."

"Mnn" Bruce said with a slight nod, and Tim started unfolding the paper in response.

The folded paper was as small as a pinky, but once unfolded, it revealed a full letter-sized sheet, and the text filled at least half of it. Tim skimmed the text as he usually did before reading aloud, but his face quickly drained of color. His eyes widened in horror and disgust. Instead of reading aloud, he kept running his eyes over the first line repeatedly, his gaze darting between Bruce and Cass. His jaw was clenched tightly, and he struggled to keep his composure, fighting against the bile rising in his throat. Cass couldn’t help but frown deeply, a growing sense of dread settling in as she wondered what the paper could possibly contain.

"Forgot how to read, replacement?" Jason said, his tone lacking its usual edge. He stood beside Tim, his expression a mix of uncertainty and concern, unsure whether to reach for the paper or not.

Tim takes a shudering breath, and Cass herself can't help but shift in her place, her anxiety growing, as they all wait for Tim to gain back his voice and finally read what Danny's note says.

"The meat on the food is human meat." Tim finally says with a strained voice.

There's a moment of silence in the room. Cass keeps her eyes on Tim, hoping, pleading, to find any signs that what she heard is wrong, but Tim only repeats the sentence. Her stomach churns violently as bile rises in her throat. Without effort, she sinks to the ground, her legs giving out as she begins to vomit. The pounding of her heart fills her ears, as black dots fill her sight and her hands tremble uncontrollably. She is dimly aware of Bruce doubling over beside her, and the sound of Jason hitting the wall.

She ate human meat. It may have just been a bite, but she ate human meat. The dinner had been made from human meat. Her mind recoiled at the abhorrent thought. The thought of the soup they were served makes her vomit once more. She gasps for air, her body shaking as she fights against the rising tide of revulsion, desperately trying to rid herself of the lingering taste and the horrifying realization of what they ingested. She feels Tims hand doing smalls circles in her back and realizes that tears had been falling from her face.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Danny's hands trembled as he injected himself with another dose of ectoplasm. The shaking made the syringe jab painfully as he withdrew it, causing drops of blood and ectoplasm to fall to the floor while the injury quickly healed. Ten minutes of continuous electrical shocks wasn’t the worst punishment he had received from Vlad, but it had the most severe drawbacks. His body had a harder time recovering from electrical damage than from any other kind of harm, and Vlad often exploited this weakness.

He took a deep breath as the last of the Lichenberg marks disappeared from his legs and arms, leaving only the ones he’d gotten from his death. He sat on the bathroom floor, staring at the ceiling, his legs and arms still trembling. He wasn’t sure if the tremors were from the electrical aftershocks or his own anxiety. Vlad had been furious about his little stunt with the soup and had once again reminded him that they weren't eating Danny’s friends because he was such a "compassionate guardian."

The reminder had thrown Danny into a couple of panic attacks once he was allowed to return to his room. He thanks he's advanced dissociative abilities for not having those panics attacks in front of Vlad. He doesn't wan't to know how the man would try to exploit that.

But even as his whole body trembles and aches, he doesn’t regret his decisions. This is his only chance for things to change. The Waynes are a powerful family with connections to the Justice League. While the League has not interfered with what has happened in Amity Park up till now, they might get involved if the Waynes reach out to them. It’s wishful thinking, and he’s risking a lot, but this gut-wrenching dinner has become the first glimmer of hope he’s had since his family’s death, and he’ll hold onto it with his half-life.

Once he's body stops trembling and he's head feels a bit clearer, he needs to text Sam and Tucker. He'll depend on them for this to not backfire on all denizens.

[gurugirl]

Little Flower

Summary: You're startled during a power outage late one night when your co-worker, Harry, is at your door, drenched from the rain. How does he even know where you live? 

Word Count: 4,468

A/N: This is a bit dark you guys! It's a classic stalker story so just keep that in mind as you read and only consume what you can handle! xoxo

Warning: smut, cheating, dark elements, coercion, stalking, aggressive male behavior, size kink, breeding kink, and sort of dubcon via manipulation

. .

You always loved rainy, stormy nights. It was the best time to snuggle up on your couch with a blanket and a pint of ice cream and watch scary movies. You were supposed to go out with friends but the weather had changed everyone’s plans. Some streets were even flooded and it just wasn’t going to be worth it to get out in the storm to go to some bar and drink gross, expensive drinks and then figure out how you’d get home.

This was far better, you determined, as you dunked your spoon into your cherry chocolate cheesecake ice cream.

Definitely better.

But then a sudden loud crash of thunder shook your windows, making you drop your pint of ice cream onto the floor at the same time you were suddenly shrouded in darkness when your electricity went out, taking your entertainment of the slasher movie you were watching with it.

You tore your blanket off your legs in annoyance and reached down for the ice cream container when you heard another noise making you still your movements as you listened through the heavy sound of rain and wind. It was coming from your back door. You strained your eyes to see through the dark as you placed the carton of ice cream on your coffee table and reached for your cell phone so you could investigate the noise.

Turning on your flashlight app to the brightest setting (thank god for modern technology) you made your way to the kitchen and peeked out the door’s window. But there was nothing that you could see.

You pursed your lips to the side and looked down at your phone and it was then you realized you had no cellular service at all. Which was odd. Sure the wifi was out with the electricity but cell service too? The storm must have knocked out a tower you supposed.

It was 11:47 pm. And since the electricity was out you figured you’d just go to bed. You couldn’t mindlessly scroll social media if you couldn’t get on the internet. So maybe this night wasn’t definitely better than going out with friends would have been.

You sighed to yourself and shined your cell phone light over the floor to make your way to your bedroom when there was the sound of a knock at your front door. Four harsh raps that had you stopping dead in your tracks.

You certainly weren’t expecting anyone and who would be out in such a heavy storm so late? Turning off the flashlight you slowly approached your front window to peek out but it was difficult to make out who was standing in front of your door. You could tell that it was a man but not much more.

Three more urgent knocks startled you, making your skin chill and putting you on edge.

You took a chance to peek through your door’s window at just the edge, hoping the man wouldn’t see you peering out but just as you did so a flash of lightening lit up the entire space around you as well as your front porch and you blinked as you recognized the man at your door.

It was someone you worked with.

You relaxed as you waved out the window and then opened your door. His hair was wet and his clothes were soaked, making his shirt cling to his body.

“Harry! What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

He looked behind himself and placed his hand on your doorframe, “Can I come in?”

You nodded and pulled your door open for him to enter. His presence felt heavy. Something was different about him. You weren’t sure why exactly. You didn’t know him all that well but he seemed nice enough at work. But in that moment he felt like a different person.

Closing your door you turned to face him, trying to push down the odd feeling you were getting, “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Got caught in the rain and just needed a spot to ride it out a bit. S’okay if I hang out here until it lets up?” He stepped in toward you which put you right back on edge again.

“Uh… I mean yeah. Sure. Were you in the area? I thought you had a car.”

Harry’s dark figure loomed over you as he spoke, “I have a car. It’s down the street. And yes. I was nearby.”

You backed up for some space, “Oh. Did your car break down?”

“Something like that.”

You tried to steady your breaths. Something was off.

“Did you enjoy the flowers I got for you, Y/n?” Harry’s chest was rising and falling heavily as if he’d been running just before.

“Um…” you looked down at the cell phone in your hand and back up to the man as your eyes began to adjust to the dark, “Was that you? I didn’t realize… I thought they were delivered to me by mistake.”

You’d gotten flowers sent to you at work on Friday afternoon. A gorgeous bouquet stuffed with lovely flowers in a pretty glass vase. At first, you thought your boyfriend had sent them but when you texted him he got upset that someone else had sent you flowers.

The card read “To my little flower.”

You chalked it up to being sent to the wrong person because there was no name on anything.

Harry shook his head as he moved closer, “Those were from me. So were the chocolates the week before. And the gummy bears before that. But I was disappointed to find out you had a boyfriend.”

You swallowed and felt your back press into your door. You wondered if you could make a run for it but Harry twisted your deadbolt and then placed a palm flat on the wood next to your head, “How long have you been seeing him?”

You nodded, “Umm. For almost a year.”

Harry turned his head to look around your living room. You were feeling all kinds of weird things in that moment.

The first was fright. Harry’s sudden aggressive behavior was a shock to you. You were also feeling very curious about what was going on. Why was he in your home? How did he know where you lived? What was he planning on doing? But the most concerning thing you were feeling was that trickle of adrenaline and excitement.

Because that was another thing. Harry was probably the hottest guy you’d ever seen. All the girls at work gossiped about him in private. Talked about how fit he was, how handsome, his hair, his eyes, his voice… You did find him quite alluring, you’d just never gotten the chance to really get to know him. Plus you had a boyfriend to think about so getting close to another man wasn’t a good idea anyway.

“A year? Really?” You could see the outline of his face and the slope of his nose as he licked his lips, “And he’s not here right now with you?”

Shaking your head you kept your eyes on his. You didn’t know what his next move was going to be.

And when he lifted a hand up to delicately run his fingers over your cheekbone a shiver was sent down the knobs of your spine and you closed your eyes, “No. He’s at home. He doesn’t live here.”

You heard a small laugh press through his nostrils, “I know he doesn’t live here. I’m just fucking with you.”

You opened up your eyes in confusion and you saw a smirk on his face, but he didn’t back away from you to give an inch of space.

“See I’ve been keeping track, Y/n. I know almost everything there is to know about you. Pretty little flower needs something her lame boyfriend can’t give her.”

A shuddered breath left your lungs, “What do you mean?”

Harry’s gentle fingers at your cheekbone lowered to your jaw, “I mean look at what’s going on right now for example. You’ve got the big bad wolf standing in your living room, ready to do ungodly things to you, and your shithead boyfriend is safe at home, probably with his sidepiece because he never cared about you in the first place.”

You swallowed and shook your head, “What? Sidepiece?”

Harry’s dark chuckle vibrated out of his chest as his thumb ran up the side of your neck, “That’s right, little flower. Marco has been cheating on you. Some skinny girl with ratty hair. God only knows what he sees in her when he’s got you at the helm. A shame you’ve chosen such a loser. I would worship the ground you walked on if you were mine.”

“What are you going to do to me?” You had a hard time keeping your thoughts in a straight line. Marco was cheating? It could be a ruse. Perhaps Harry was lying. But also the stroke of his thumb at your neck was pressing harder into your skin and it was causing your head to go dizzy and your limbs were heating up.

Harry’s pink lips curved up into a wicked grin, “I have a few things that I’d like to do to you. Would you like to hear them?”

Did you want to know? Was he going to hurt you? That, you didn’t want. You weren’t much of a fan of pain. But if he were to force himself on you somehow… Maybe if he were to take you to your bed and do something ungodly to you… well, what would that entail?

“Yes.” You squeaked out pathetically.

That dark smile on his face widened, “That’s a good sign, flower. Honestly, I kind of expected a little more of a struggle from you. But you seem to like this so far. That’s going to make this so much easier. So much better for us.”

He moved in toward your face and then you felt his breath on your jaw and down your neck before he spoke against your skin and you felt that icy prick of exhilaration cover your body, “I’ll be soft with you as long as you let me. If you fight me it’s going to be a lot less soft, understand me?”

You knocked your head up and down in an affirmative nod as you held your breath.

His plushy mouth pressed over the side of your throat and you felt his tongue drag upward to your jaw, “First I want to taste you. Need to know what you smell like. Find out how thick your arousal gets and what your flavor is on my tongue.”

You gulped down the moan you nearly let out as you closed your eyes and his lips nipped over your skin to the front of your neck, “But then I want to know what you feel like, Y/n. Want to know how it feels when your insides are wrapped around my cock. Want to hear your pretty voice saying my name when you come. Want you to forget all about Marco. Because I want you for myself. Yeah?”

You felt like you were in a dream. Maybe it was just a dream. One of those strange fever dreams that feels like it’s happening but then it feels too weird to be real. And if it was just a dream… well what was the harm in it?

“Yes.” You whispered, your voice hitching up an octave.

“Yeah? You want that flower? Because if you do there’s not going to be any turning back. I won’t be able to let you go after this.”

You lifted your shaky hands up to his chest, feeling the moisture from his shirt under your palms. His heated skin underneath was taut and well-muscled. But of course, you knew he was strong and fit.

Harry kissed up your jaw and then his mouth was pressed against yours and the sizzle of your bodies pressed together was like an electric shock to your system as your mouth opened for his with ease. You smoothed your hands up his pecs, to his shoulders, and then to the back of his head into his wet hair. You allowed a moan to fall from your mouth against his and he shifted his hips before lifting you up by the back of your thighs and making you wrap your legs around his waist as he walked you to your bedroom, like he knew exactly where he was going.

He dropped you down to your bed and peeled his shirt off. So many tattoos that you had a hard time making out in the dark but you saw the inky designs, some blending together, some letters, numbers, drawings…

You felt his hands tear down your night shorts, taking your cotton panties with them in one quick tug, and then he began to undo his pants, pushing them down his sturdy legs as he kept his gaze on yours.

You felt like a different person. Like this was happening to someone who was taking over your body. The darkness of your room lit up with a lightning flash and then the heavy roll of thunder shook your house.

Harry crawled over you, his bulky frame covering you completely as you felt his fingers pulling your t-shirt off until your breasts were bare and the cool air of your dark room covered you in chills.

But he dipped down and placed his warm palm on one of your breasts while his mouth suctioned at the other side, pulling gently at your nipple and then lapping at your skin until he moved to the other side, warming your skin with his lips and his saliva.

“Gah!” You panted as you felt his teeth dig into your bud and you lifted your head to peer down at him.

Harry smiled against your nipple and then lifted himself to look down at you, “Sorry. Said I’d be soft. Might just accidentally nip at you here and there. You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you, Y/n. How desperately I need you,” he ducked his face down between your breasts and dotted hot kisses down the center of your tummy until he gripped the inner parts of your thighs and pushed them apart so he could tuck himself in between.

You let out the loudest gasp you’d ever let fall from your lungs when you felt his soft lips peppering kisses up your labia. Harry’s tongue jutted out between your crease and you felt the warmth of his wet muscle slide up until he bumped into your clit.

“Oh flower…” he breathed against your cunt, “Better than I imagined…”

When he wrapped his plush lips around your clit you sucked in a sharp breath and let your head fall back into your blankets as Harry’s arms caged you in by the back of your thighs.

You’d never been eaten out with such enthusiasm. Marco always acted like he was going to hurt you so it usually felt like a limp rag against your pussy, which did absolutely nothing for you. But Harry felt like a real man with a warm mouth and a big wet tongue going at you like he was frustrated. Crazed.

His moans vibrated over your core and up to your hips as you wiggled under him, softly bucking yourself up against him.

“Oh!” You moaned loudly and reached down to grab onto anything when you felt his hand pull at yours and slide his fingers between your digits as he pressed it down into the mattress. But he did not let up his licking and sucking and it felt like the whole world would crumble around you if he let go of your hand.

The sound coming from between your legs was proof of how wet you’d gotten. He had worked you up into a frenzy without much effort at all. You weren’t sure if it was the way he was eating you out, or the very strange circumstance of him showing up at your place and making some kind of claim on you but you knew you’d give yourself to him if that’s what he wanted. Even if it was wrong. Even if made you a bad person. Even if Harry was a bad person…

“Shit! Oh ffff…” you yelped when he focused on your clit and it stung your flesh in the most salacious way you’d ever felt. You swore he was sucking the soul right out of you and inhaling it whole for himself.

Your whines grew loud as you squeezed his hand and his shoulders pressed harder into the backs of your thighs. He said he’d be soft but this wasn’t soft. It was better. It was hot and twisted and you should have been ashamed at how much you liked it but you were on the cusp of an orgasm and you couldn’t stop yourself.

The world around you went blank except for Harry’s mouth and his hand wrapped around yours. There was no telling how long you were shaking or crying his name or how loud you’d been or even where you were in that moment.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you felt those soft pink lips gliding up your body and then finding your neck, a harsh suck making you coo in ecstasy. Everything in your body felt exactly right. Harry had turned you into another woman and his warm body covered you possessively. You were his and he’d just shown you that.

“Tasted like sunshine and butterscotch,” his lips smeared over your cheek hotly, “My little flower deserves her cunt eaten properly every day. Now that you’re mine you’ll never go without.”

You sighed and then you felt his warm shaft against your pussylips. He still had your hand in his as he looked down at you and lined up his tip with your opening, pushing in only his bulbous head.

You hissed at the tightness of it, arching your back into him.

“It’s okay. I’m gonna go in slow so it doesn’t hurt. Tiny little hole needs worked open, yeah?”

You nodded with a whimper, “It’s so… you’re so big… oh god…”

“We’ll get you used to it. Don’t worry sweet, flower. Gonna take good care of you…”

His fat cock slowly took up inch by inch of your insides. You’d never felt such a full feeling from a cock before. Harry’s dick was thick and the further he pressed inward you could tell he was also long.

He slowly backed himself out to the tip and kissed your mouth with a quick peck before smiling down at you as he drove back in, pushing deeper yet. The kind of stretch he was giving you felt impossible. Even your huge dildo (which you hid from Marco so as not to hurt his fragile feelings of seeing a toy that was bigger than he was) didn’t feel this big, didn’t give you this kind of fullness.

There was the sound of a soft squelch of your pussy getting stuffed as he bottomed out. He nuzzled his face into your neck and panted softly as he thrust deeply. You could feel your insides getting moved around, rearranged, and prodded into.

It did something to your brain to know your pussy was making a man with such a big cock feel like you were. You could feel his cock twitching as he rocked into you. The front of his thighs pressed into the back of yours as he fucked you with his large dick.

“You feel that, flower?” His hot breath cascaded over your neck as he spoke.

“Mmm… I feel it all, Harry…” you moaned in response as you flexed your hand inside of his and brought your other hand up to his broad back to hold onto his outer lat.

“I can tell you feel it too. Feel me way up in your tummy, spreading you open like you’ve never been. Feels like I’m fucking a virgin right now,” he trembled as kept up his languid pace.

And compared to anyone else you’d slept with, yeah… you could say you were like a virgin. You’d never had anything so large inside of your pussy and you knew you couldn’t go back to anything less.

“Gonna get you fucked and filled so nicely every day. My little flower… fuck… feels so tight and wet around me. So warm. Just begging for my come.”

You moaned out breathily. Every stroke of his shaft and dip of his crown into your guts had you reeling. It was so much and so good. You were already addicted to the way he was fucking you and talking you through it.

“I need your come, Harry. I need you in my womb so bad…” you panted your words but you weren’t sure if those words had come from you or not. Maybe you were just cock drunk or cock dumb or whatever it was you’d heard of that happened to some people when they were getting a good dicking but it was something you’d never experienced and you wanted him to claim every part of you. You’d never before asked for anyone’s come. You’d never fucked without a condom. But Harry was the exception to everything.

His slow, deep plunges were driving you insane. Every sticky wet slide of his cock through your walls, every time you felt his balls fit up against your ass, every grind of his hips against yours… it made you feel obsessed. Like an unstable lunatic, hungry for something that no one else would ever understand.

“Need me deep in your womb, flower?” Harry pasted his hips to yours and rocked against you, making you squeal at the press of his tip into your cervix, “Is that what you want? Want me to stuff you with my come and give you babies, make you mine forever? Yeah?”

“Yes! Please!” You gasped when he bit into your neck as the roll of his back and his hips into you suddenly faltered and his rhythm grew sloppy.

Harry trembled over you as he pressed his nose into your jaw, his moans growing louder and his cock was twitching, leaking precome as his balls squeezed into his body preparing for his orgasm.

But the way he was glued to your pelvis and every grind down into you sent glorious sparkles down your spine that spread over your pussy as he was smushed against your clit.

The moment you felt your orgasm start to unfold and burst your vision went black as your heart pounded and your pussy gushed around him.

When Harry felt you squeezing him tight with a spasming pussy and he knew you were coming he coughed out a moan as he allowed himself to pound into you, finally punching through your walls the way he wanted as he fucked you through your release. Long, slick, aching strokes with skin wetly slapping, your bed rocking with each strong thrust, until Harry’s gasps of pleasure finally poured out of his lungs as he came inside of you. Inside of his sweet flower.

He pumped and throbbed as he pressed in deep, stilling his hips against yours with his heart pounding wildly. It was heaven. Bliss. He knew it would be.

Your body was limp under his as you began to come down and you felt him thick and pulsating inside of you as he drained himself into your womb just like you wanted. The grip he had on your hand ached but you loved it as he used your pussy for his pleasure. Deep whimpers fell from his chest.

Everything swirled and sparkled and twisted around you in some divine kaleidoscope. His dark words spoken into your ear, “You’re mine now, flower,” had you smiling and humming in delight. It was all you wanted. He was all you needed.

. . .

You woke up to your phone alarm sounding next to you on the bed. The tiniest bit of light was peeking through your curtains as you sat up and found your phone to shut off the noise. You were in a daze as you looked around yourself and realized you were alone in your bed.

You pulled your brows together and looked around your room. Your clothes were on the floor and memories of the night before began to flood your mind. Harry. Where was Harry?

Throwing the blankets off your naked body you looked down over yourself and felt that warm flush of excitement crawl over your skin at the thought of what had happened. You slid on your t-shirt and walked into your hallway, “Harry?” You called his name but there was no response.

Your living room was left just as it had been the night before. Your front door was unlocked and the carton of half-eaten ice cream was sitting on your coffee table, all melted inside.

You shook your head as you peeked into your kitchen and then went into your bathroom, flicking on the light and there lying on your vanity was a flower. You picked it up as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Two big dark splotches on your neck told you that you weren’t going crazy. That something had happened last night.

Unless you’d done it to yourself somehow? You leaned in to look closer in the mirror as you ran your fingers over the skin on your throat and frowned. Maybe it had just all been a dream. It definitely felt like one.

You sighed as you stepped back and retraced the events of what you remember. But it was hard to recall the details exactly. You were so gone for Harry, your co-worker, and he’d been so aggressive yet so soft at the same time.

Perhaps it had just been a dream. A wild dream that had you coming twice and begging for him to come inside of you.

You laughed as you ran your hands over your face and shook your head. Maybe you were going crazy. It didn’t explain the flower or the splotches on your neck but somehow, in the light of day, it all felt like nothing more than a fantasy. It made more sense that it would have just been a dream. What were the chances your hot co-worker had come to your house in the middle of the night and fucked you so good you were ready to marry him and give him babies? No, that wasn’t real. Because that wasn’t you.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror with a grin. The only thing you knew for certain at that moment was that you’d never think about Harry the same way again.

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[thelibrarian1895]

If your sibling is a rogue then make the best of it

I would like to think that Jason is very Hondo Onakha about kidnapping, very dramatic, fairly polite/chill to the one he kidnapped, minimal trauma, very professional overall but also very theatrical. Out of anyone in Gotham to have as your kidnapper, Jason aka the Red Hood is by far the very best person.

ALL of Jason's family whether they be legal, biological, emotional, or honorary, will absolutely try to convince Jason to kidnap them to get them out of some stupid civilian event. Whether or not Jason will go along with it will depend on several factors such as:

Does this benefit Bruce and get him out of a boring civilian event too? Then so sorry, you're just going to have to suffer!

How busy is Jason at the moment? Because being a drug lord and vigilante is actually pretty time consuming and kidnapping can be a lot of work for potentially very little gain.

What does Jason get out of it? Yes money is all well and good but Jason is rich by his own merits and can just steal from Bruce whenever, there's got to be more to it!

When is the last time Jason has kidnapped this sibling? He can't do it too often or it gets less effective. He has a reputation to maintain after all!

It may also depend on which sib is asking and what they need to be "saved" from.

Dick asks to be kidnapped from a bachelor auction charity? Ha! No chance, sorry Dickie! He will be there though and take pictures and laugh. (And also join all the other siblings who are stalking Dick and the winner of the auction in the event the winner wasn't one of the Bats or an invited member of the JL or Titans using Bruce's money) Dick asking to be kidnapped from a gala or some opening night of trendy place he's at to maintain civilian status? Maybe but the bribe has to be considerable. And it cannot benefit Bruce. Dick's normal bribes consist of taking some tedious part of an investigation over for Jason or getting intel from JL databases for Jason and the Outlaws.

Cass? Anytime and always, favorite sister who can beat him up has special kidnapping privileges, though they did stop for a very long time when some weirdos put out the theory that the Red Hood was in love with Gotham's Princess. (idk if Cass is considered Gotham's Princess in any version of canon but she is to me) Cass does still repay Jason in the form of Black Bat keeping an eye on Jason's territory when he's out of Gotham for any significant length of time.

Tim? He does owe the kid for several incidents and Tim normally doesn't abusive the privilege so he'd probably do it but there does have to be some sort of bribe for appearances sake. Tim usually gets Jason to agree in exchange for pictures of Batman tripping over his cape or in some other ridiculous position. Bonus in Jason's mind if Tim requests a kidnapping when Bruce is off world or otherwise occupied, therefore giving Brucie Wayne's reputation a hit. However if Tim wants to be kidnapped from something where Bruce is also suffering as Brucie, Tim is SOL (Tim might get revenge by getting Kon to wear Red Hood gear and "kidnap" Tim from the event if Jason refused. Kon will do it because Tim asked and also I would like to think that Kon isn't too fond of the guy who beat his best friend/boyfriend nearly to death and will mess with him if given the chance) Since kidnapping normally interferes with things that Tim wants to do however, he may instead bribe Jason to not kidnap a sibling that has asked to be kidnapped. Jason usually obliges this no kidnapping request.

Barbara? Sorry, no, he doesn't want to stress the Commissioner like that. He will, however, kidnap other people for her if she asks.

Stephanie? No Stephanie, he doesn't care what you offer, he's not kidnapping you so you can avoid your finals! Stephanie has, however, worn various wigs and been various hostages who died at the hands of the Hood in order to maintain his reputation. She gets paid in baked goods for her service.

Damian? Damian considered the idea ridiculous and proclaimed he'd never stoop so low and he would carry out his duties no matter how onerous! Damian then had to go to a Gotham gala. Damian is trying very hard to figure out a suitable bribe to get the Red Hood to kidnap him often enough that Bruce will be forced to keep Damian away from galas because of the ongoing security threat. So far it hasn't worked because Damian is very bad at bribing Jason, Jason thinks Damian forced to interact with normal people is funny, and Tim is successfully bribing Jason to ignore Damian's bribery attempts. The Red Hood has "kidnapped" Damian once, as a treat, when he thought the kid was looking particularly down about something.

Duke? Duke has yet to be made to attend any society gatherings as the solo Wayne (normally that falls to Bruce, Dick, or Tim) and can usually be spotted hanging out with Cass by the snack table at any gala or trendy event. He's not at Cass's level of reading body language but he's pretty darn good and he and Cass have reached a new level of being able to avoid annoying rich people while at parties. Duke is Cass's favorite gala buddy. Duke hasn't felt the need to ask Jason to kidnap him yet but Jason will allow the first one to be free of charge, no questions asked. After that Duke hasn't figured out suitable bribes for Jason but has realized that all of his siblings are hyper competitive and that Jason would absolutely wager a kidnapping in a competition or for a bet.

Alfred? If Alfred asked then Jason would without any caveat. Alfred will not ask however but might ask on behalf of someone else and Jason will comply.

Bruce? Jason just laughs. And if someone else is planning on kidnapping Brucie Wayne from a particularly boring business meeting or gala? Jason will actively thwart the kidnapping to force Bruce to continue to deal with social activity.

Jason usually splits a portion of the ransom money into bonuses for his goons since their original job outline is drug dealer/enforcer/mobster and not kidnapper. If they're going to get major felonies on their records, better make it financially worth it. All of Jason's goons are masked during any kidnapping event. The rest of the ransom money goes towards a charity of Jason's choosing.

Jason has also kidnapped people who are not his family or family adjacent. Barbara thought her dad could use a vacation at one point but he didn't have the PTO for it so Barbara had the Red Hood kidnap him. James Gordon experienced the weirdest kidnapping of his life that included some of the best food he'd ever eaten, an extremely soft bed, his pile of books that were on his reading list, and access to the sports games he'd meant to watch. The ransom was successfully paid after he had a week to relax. Gordon was then, as per protocol, allowed time to relax after his "harrowing" event. Barbara forced him to take the time. Strangely enough, some politicians who had been giving the Commissioner a hard time were suddenly very quiet when James Gordon came back, well rested, well fed, and ready to get back to the grind. It, of course, had nothing to do with the very polite emails with pictures attached that they all received while the Commissioner was very publicly out of the way.

Oliver Queen, when he was visiting Gotham, was kidnapped by the Red Hood. He was released after the ransom was paid and specifically he was released back in Star City. Mr. Queen was unavailable for comment after the incident but some sources say that he was cursing bats for some reason.

Lois Lane found herself kidnapped by Red Hood and ransomed by the Daily Planet while Superman was off world. Lois Lane returned safely to Metropolis and published a shocking expose on Luthor's latest scheme. Her sources for the article remain a secret.

Bruce is very grumpy about the whole thing, not just because Jason won't help his poor father get out of the stupid social event, but also because Jason being technically a rogue like this makes it very hard for him to successfully argue that Jason should let himself regain legal living status.

[willowed-wisp]

apocalypse sex [ könig ]

You are in Austria when the zombie apocalypse strikes- you and a pretty blue eyed stranger called König aim to survive together

You didn’t remember how it went down, that crashed feeling piling onto you was all that could be mustered… the excruciating pain which followed.

Left in the street to die. But you weren’t dead, if only in the days to come. The early days of the apocalypse.

Glad to be in a bed, better than the cobblestone streets you’d been dumped on. Vague snippets filtered through, light eyes furrowed with unneeded worry- arms easily cradling you. That’s when slumber betrayed you. Probably whose bed you found yourself in.

Incoherent words spilled from a masculine voice, surprisingly gentle in your ears. Yet, you couldn’t understand what the man was saying, “I don’t understand, I’m sorry…”

“I said, I’m glad you’re awake… you weren’t well.” Not feeling ‘well’ either, but able to move. Though when you did, a hand rested on your shoulder and you met his face… the same kind eyes in your hazed dream. Something so young about a face that had seen too many atrocities. “Why would someone harm British national?” He must have seen your ID, you couldn’t blame him.

You laughed the nerves away, “I was speaking to the wrong guy, apparently…” The man didn’t laugh, not even cracking a smile. You wondered if he actually could look anything but worried on the verge of tears. “I’ll be on my way… I don’t want to be a nuisance.” Everywhere ached but you’d had worse, a police officer by trade in London. That’s why when this mountain of a man blocked your way, you reached for the imaginary gun you had been specially trained to you in unforeseen situations.

“It’s not safe out there,”

“To me, it doesn’t feel safe in here…” That’s only when you noticed the static on the television huddled in the corner. Strange… you were in Vienna, there must have been service. That doomed look on his face told you as much, “How long was I asleep for?”

“A day…”

“And what’s happened in that day?” Peeking out the window, fire consumed some of the city while trash scattered the streets. Ignoring the people walking. “Rioting?”

He shook his head, “A weapon was released… infecting anyone by the bloodstream.” It clicked.

“Zombies?” You sounded much too nonchalant… that’s why you were in Vienna, investigating reports for HQ. You unfortunately rubbed people up the wrong way in Austria. “Fuck… we need to get moving…” He watched you walk across the room, out to the living area of his apartment. It was bare, lifeless as if he was never there on the frequent. “I never asked your name. I’m Y/N.”

You sat on the sofa while he loomed, “They call me ‘König’,”

“Who’s they? You’re friends?”

He looked out of the window. Hung up on one detail. “You’re taking this zombie problem too well, officer…” He was too observant for his own good.

“Who are you, ‘King’?” You were smarter than you looked… he admired that in an adversary.

Something in his eyes toyed with you, a buzz of some kind. “I’m your friend, we’re going to need each other to survive out there…”

That you agreed on.

You laughed in his face, “You really want to finish unsigned paperwork now?”

“I need to get to my work… they have things we’re going to need.”

When you arrived, it was burned to the ground. “König, we need to go.” It had all moved so fast, those first weeks. Luckily both of you able to handle yourselves, what you really needed to were guns… to no avail.

König drove most of the time, the only time he looked at peace. You hadn’t really spoke much, always having your eyes wide open for potential threats. But in the countryside, where very little people inhabited- you could exhale properly for the first time.

Especially when you found a possible refuge. Passing by a lake- you saw an island out in the clear waters and on the tuft of green in the turquoise glimmer, you spotted a cabin. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?”

“A decent nights sleep?” It didn’t take long to find a rowing boat on the dock your side of the lake. Both equally doing your work, loading up any supplies you had acquired on the way. Tinned food, bottles onto of bottle of water. Luckily König was a big guy… and you couldn’t stop watching him in that previous week.

He had saved your life with an axe in the grocery store, it seemed to be his preferred weapon choice. Ever since, you couldn’t stop the wondering.

The settlement looked like a holiday outlet, it was out of the way of civilisation and had its own livestock on the stretch of island behind your viewpoint on ‘mainland’. Cows, chickens… it was there. Luckily you watched your farming programmes…

König did the security sweep of the two story property himself, deeming it clear. “Still has electricity…” He marvelled.

“There’s a wind turbine out back and solar panels on the roof… these guys were ready for an apocalypse…” Head up looking at the haven you had uncovered, not paying mind… crashing into the body beside you. His hands held the back of your head and your the base of your back. In an ode to keep you upright.

He made you feel incredibly small, “Gotta be careful, kleine dame…” You almost blushed at his handsome smile, eyes shining down on you.

That night you sat by the fire, in the cozy cabin. Having eaten soup beforehand… life couldn’t be too bad like that. Huddled under a blanket, too preoccupied staring at the warm lit visage of the man who had saved your life more than once. Before he peered back in you, a lopsided grin on his lips

“Doors locked?” You asked before heading to bed… a nice comfortable bed instead of the inside of that crappy Peugeot you’d picked up along the way.

He hummed a ‘yes’ to you. All power off, all windows boarded up. “The people who lived here had an eye for security systems…” How he knew the code was beyond you but you’re pretty sure he said he’d grown up nearby and fished the lake with his grandfather. You shrugged it off.

Going downstairs you noticed the pictures hanging up, on the second floor landing. A remarkably tall boy stood with his grandparents- catching his first fish… this was König’s place…

You stepped to the room he’d settled in for the night, only to find him dripping wet from a shower. Only in a towel hung around his hips, “I’m sorry, I should’ve knocked!” Before darting out of the room… too focused on the rippled flesh of his abdomen rather than the colours of the walls. You checked on the livestock, naming each of them in your head. Getting mixed around every time they moved.

A hand grazed your hip for a split second, “This was your grandparent’s cabin, wasn’t it?” He gave a nod. “And you’re the guy with good tastes in security systems?”

He seemed trapped in his own thoughts, “I knew it was safe here, we’d have everything we needed… and yeah I’m the security guy-,” You didn’t care, hands placed on his scarred forearms- craning your neck up, kissing König. Just a small token of your growing affection. He tasted like sea salt and smelled like ginger and sandalwood. “Damn, you beat me to it…”

A hand pressed against what felt like rock but was in fact his chest, “We’ve got many more of those to come…” Not helping the purr in your voice, sultry to a fault. All completely intentional.

Though, something told you he’d have trouble initiating anything.

You were truly mistaken.

That night, nails dug as fingers wrenched in his growing out dirty blonde hair. Tongue riveted along your folds, watching him work before he flicked the sweet spots you didn’t even know existed. That had your head against the dining table, toes curling on the edge. Fingers added, corkscrewing in and out of your wet pussy had you whimpering. Only able to get part of his name out.

His hands wrapped around your ankles, propping onto his shoulders. Bending your legs so your knees were at your waist, mouth invading deeper. Kissing and marking his territory, careless moans thrown into the void. Curses tossed out, fingers teasing your bud while he devoured.

Tasting yourself on his lips, fucked out already, “This isn’t over, prächtig.” Draping your legs around his hips, holding your ass as his carried you to the bedroom you’d found him half naked.

Walls a dark grey and military decor splattered here and there. Fingers at your chin, kisses twining the two of you. A shared effort to get the t-shirt over those broad shoulders. Hot, bare flesh under your fingertips. Muttering a swear, open-mouthed adoration consuming you. Tracing along rough and ready skin, he keened away, “Sensitive? How ‘bout here?” A palm at his denim, you witnessed König melt. Caging you in under him, never breaking contact.

Thick fingers teased- delving at a slow pace - curling at that sensitive patch inside. Breathless gasps coming from you in ebbs and flows, “Be loud, schatz…”

“Still so shy, even after making me come on your tongue…” Caressing his soft cheek, eye contact broken. Clenched down only for him to pick up the slack- feeling yourself gush with a wail. Grasp on his forearm tightening, your face pitifully scrunched up. Mouth carved to an ‘o’.

König’s warmth gone as he stood, tall and domineering. Unbuckling his belt, though you could see the outline in the blue fabric before. White underwear, black elastic at the top. Subdued but in tune to your surroundings, your eyes wide. His height corresponding at the thick, lengthy outline. Scarred hand giving it a rub, looking down at the mess in between your legs… the pool on the already dark covers. “Fucking hell…” It slapped across the trail of dark hair down the lower half of his stomach. V-line encasing the well defined cock in front of you.

How was it ever going to get inside you? You hadn’t had sex in a while, and this was the thing that would prize you open. You salivated thinking about it. His weight dipped against yours, seating between your legs. “Don’t look so scared, Y/N,” A thumb against your bottom lip, claiming both once again. Laying you down, the same thumb rubbing your face. “I’m going to go slow…” Resting on his knees, you couldn’t help but touch the thickness. He huffed so sweet at whatever touch you gave him.

Lifting your hips up with one of the pillows, legs stretched to fit his hips. Cold air hitting your bare parts, his legs filled the chill. You didn’t look, as his tip sank in. A sharpness turned into pleasure as the rest of him burrowed inside of you. Hands stapled to his neck- look at every twitch in König’s features. A loud groan from him, “Scheiße…” All that more attracted to him from that angle, incoherently in a void between dizziness and suffocation. Fleshy walls swollen around his girth. “I don’t think I can control myself, schatz…”

Your mind delirious and vision like a kaleidoscope, “Give it to me…”

König struggled to move, which made his movements more erratic. Hands everywhere on him, maiming him any time he bucked. Movements not rough but pent up.

Wriggling too much, his hands clamped down on your raised hips while ploughing you. Lifting your ass off the bed, fucking into you. Slaps of skin and strained choruses of teeth gritted screams was all that could be heard. Discomfort outmatched by carnal tears… He knew when you came- each time you did. Pulsing around him, almost pushing him out. That’s why he ground so deeply. And that’s when he’s name came out in a squeal.

Before his body buckled, hilted in you. Holding your wrists down, all while you milked him dry. So right, so soft… all his from now on. This giant of a man inside of you.

What a way to spend the zombie apocalypse…

————

Thanks for reading :)

————

masterlist

[demonic0angel]

Celestial Bodies AU (maybe part 1/?)

(Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7.)

Superman flew through space, eying the new galaxy that he and Batman had discovered the night before.

“So? What does it look like?” Batman asked him through the communications.

“Well…” Superman looked around. “It’s definitely weird. It has an enormous cluster of stars, but I’m not feeling stronger…”

“What? Are you saying that the radiation isn't working?"

"The stars here are all white stars or above, but they don't make me feel stronger. Actually... I think I'm feeling weaker too. Something is definitely wrong here."

Batman was quiet for only a moment before he asked, "Are you in any current danger? Can you defend yourself?"

"No, I'm fine. I don't sense any living beings around me. I can defend myself." Superman understood what Batman was trying to say. "Are you asking me to stay and continue observing?"

"If you can."

"Of course. I'll stay and continue investigating."

"Thank you," Batman said softly and Superman smiled at that.

"Don't sweat it! Let me get the receiver."

Superman pulled out the device that allowed him to connect to radio signals from space, and began turning it on. However, the moment it turned to life, the radio began to malfunction, short circuiting and turning into static as it shook itself. Superman nearly tossed it away before suddenly, it was normal again.

And then, the signal began to pick up.

And it began to sing.

Superman stared wide eyed as a symphony of music and singing came through the radio. It was a little choir of humming and barely audible voices, sounding as though they were underwater. Still, it was undeniably beautiful, like something heard from heaven.

"Batman," Superman said, hushed, "are you hearing this?"

"... yes."

"It's amazing! Are these stars making these sounds?" Superman continued flying, observing the blue and yellow stars, each radiating a heat that could not power him. He continued flying, listening to the ethereal song that called for listeners.

He hadn't been paying attention when he felt an ever sensed blistering heat and a force beginning to drag him forward. He turned his head and his eyes widened again before he cursed and flew a little distance away.

"Superman? What is it?"

"Batman, turn on your visuals," he said as he turned on the camera.

There was silence before Superman heard the barely audible click and then a buzz of a camera. The camera was attached to Superman and it would send the views back to Batman, allowing him to see just what Superman was freaking out over. When it turned on, Batman was silent for a moment, clearly as confused as Superman was feeling.

"... tell me what I'm seeing."

"A quasar, a protostar that is possibly becoming a blue star, a neutron star, and a black hole all coexisting right next to each other. As well as several planets all circling them like stars."

Superman watched the scene with a sense of both interest, awe, and horrified confusion.

The scene in front of him just wasn't possible. Not only would a black hole consume everything around it, there was already a quasar nearby doing the same thing with an even stronger force. However, the protostar and neutron star were fine even though they were so close, along with the few planets. The planetary nebula around the neutron star circled around each celestial object in an assembly line, flowing from the neutron star to the black hole to the quasar and then to the protostar. If the nebula wasn't taken by one celestial object, it was passed onto another.

Most of the nebula seemed to be absorbed by the quasar and protostar, but the two of them seemed to coexist in peace. The neutron star continued to spin and the black hole surrendered most of the nebula to its neighbors. The planets also spun peacefully, a few even had rings that were not taken by the quasar or black hole.

It was like only foreign objects, like Superman himself, would be absorbed.

It was fascinating. Like they were alive and knew how to live with one another.

Superman explained it to Batman in detail. Batman was silent before he said, "This shouldn't be possible. How could this occur? Unless there was some sort of external force that is keeping each astronomical object to themselves and prevents them from destroying each other, there's no way this could be a natural occurrence."

"Are you suggesting that this is man-made?"

"How could it be anything but? Aren't you listening to singing right now?"

Superman raised the receiver and the singing on the other side continued without pause, a constant symphony of voices.

"... you could be right. Do you want to try and make contact?"

"Yes. Send back a signal."

Superman pressed a few buttons on the receiver to send a radio message back and in an instant, the singing died down, leaving only a faint crackling and a water-like noise.

Biting the bullet, Superman then spoke into the receiver.

"Hello. My name is Superman, and I come from the Milky Way galaxy. I am a kryptonian from the planet Earth. I wish to peacefully connect with you, whoever you are."

More crackling.

Batman cursed softly in his ear and Superman winced, already feeling that he was too impulsive. However, just as he was about to backtrack and escape from this particular galaxy, there was a whispered, shuddery, "Hello."

Superman blinked and then called out, "H-Hello!"

There was silence again, only that underwater staticky noise coming through.

"Can I take this as you accepting my peace offering?"

"... yes."

The sound that came from the receiver seemed to come from many, all joining together into one.

There was a hitched gasp and then Batman hissed, "Keep talking! Ask them questions! Ask them if they want to make contact with us or if we can form an alliance!"

Superman nodded to himself and spoke into the receiver, "Can you see me?"

"We see you."

Superman paused and then continued in stride, "I'm sorry, but I can't see you. Can you show yourself?"

"In front of you."

There was nothing but the strange collection of celestial objects. Unless there was someone inside? It could be possible, but Superman hadn't detected anyone living around him for awhile now.

"Uh, I'm sorry, but—"

"In front of you."

Batman then said through the communicator, "Superman, the neutron star!"

The neutron star in front of him then began to spin faster and faster, before lighting up into a pulsar in the very next second.

Superman was stunned at the sight, as the radiation emitting from the neutron star passed over him over and over and over, radiating with a cold burn that resonated through his bones and made his limbs weak. The impossibly quick change from a regular neutron star into a pulsar only made him even more frightened as the radio signals made the receiver scream.

"We are here." The crackling voices said again, all as one.

Superman flew backwards, his breath caught in his throat.

"Superman?! Why did you go backwards?" Batman demanded.

Superman flinched and then he said softly, "Sorry. Instinct."

It was true. The fear that had entered his body had made him instinctively retreat. It was even worse than looking death in the eye. It was like the feeling of knowing the End of All, of knowing that your existence would be wiped out, of knowing that resistance would be futile and that your death wouldn't even be enough to save the ones you loved.

His heart pounded as he flew a little closer, enough to feel the heat from the quasar again and almost reluctantly said into the receiver, "Are you the neutron star?"

"We are all what you see in front of you."

"'We'? Are all of you speaking to me?"

The neutron star pulsed again, spinning just a little faster like before.

"I am the King. And these are my family."

The voice than switched out, a barely noticeable change in the difference because it was all the same voices speaking as one. However, now a different voice was leading.

"Ask your questions, Son of Jor-El. What do you seek?"

Superman's eyes widened. Then after a moment of silence, he said, "I am here to explore the universe and find protection for the planet I live on. Could you help us?"

"We are but objects in the sky. We will only answer questions."

Batman interrupted. "Ask them if they can see the future and if anything will happen to Earth."

Superman explained to the collection of celestial bodies, "This is my colleague and partner, Batman. We work together for Earth's safety."

"We know. He is the best of you."

There was silence from both Superman and Batman. Superman was stunned, but he also couldn't help but smile. "Yes, that is true. Can you see the future? Can you tell us if any dangers will be coming to earth."

Another voice came to life, taking the lead in speaking. "We can. Whatever comes, you and your Justice League can handle it."

Superman could hear Batman breathe a sigh of relief. Superman felt the same and he placed a hand on his heart as he gave a sigh of relief as well. "Thank goodness." Before Batman said anything, Superman asked, "Could you tell us more about yourself? How do you have a consciousness?"

The radio crackled and popped for a little while before the first voice, the one who called themself 'King' spoke up.

"We were like you once. But then I became a legend."

"Like me?" Superman asked.

Batman then said, "Ask them if they were human."

"Were you human?"

More silence.

And then—

"Yes."

Superman's eyes widened and he couldn't help but gasp in shock, a hand flying to his mouth as he stared at the celestial bodies in front of him, all of which used to be human. These enormous objects that used to be human, now forced to succumb to emptiness and spin in space without pause.

"Are... are you okay? We have magic users in our team, maybe we can offer you help?" Superman asked.

Batman hissed in the comms, "Superman! We don't even know them!"

The receiver crackled some more and the voice changed again. The sound of them being underwater seemed louder than ever.

"We are fine, Son of Jor-El. We are happy."

The person speaking switched to someone new.

"Ask your questions and then leave." The receiver quieted again. And then they spoke, "My little sister needs her rest for her rebirth."

Superman's eyes flicked over to the protostar, which was still absorbing most of the nebula. The only thing that could have possibly been 'reborn' was the protostar, as it needed to heat itself to start the transition to become a main sequence star. Was that one the little sister?

"Just two more questions, if that's alright." He could hear Batman's deep, frustrated sigh. He probably had more questions but was frustrated by Superman's curtesy and his lack of scientific curiosity. Superman knew he was annoyed but he felt an odd camaraderie with the celestial objects. He didn't want to anger them if necessary.

"Speak."

"How old are you? And will you help us again in the future?"

The receiver crackled.

The voice changed once more. "We are all far, far, far older than you imagine. Time does not work for us like other stars."

The speaker switched again. "But in human years, we have not reached our adult ages yet."

The honest confession made Superman's eyes widen, especially as he realized what they meant.

A bunch of children had turned into stars and black holes before they were even adults?

Superman was suddenly starkly reminded of Robin, Batman's sidekick, one of the very few children that he knew in their line of business. By Batman's silence, he was probably thinking along the same lines.

"Speak your last question and leave."

"Can the Justice League depend on you for further help and assistance in the future? I would like to come back if I can."

"Our King was once a hero too. Come if you need it."

That was when the quasar sent out a flare, the gases and planetary nebula around it rubbing against each other hard enough to send sparks Superman's way. It was clearly a warning, especially as the neutron star began spinning rapidly again, radiation beginning to light the air around him in a devastating chill.

"Leave," They all chorused.

Superman immediately turned away without hesitation. "Thank you very much! I will come again!"

The receiver did not speak again. Instead, the songs restarted and the voices continued to sing a song that he could not recognize. It was ethereal, if not haunting.

Superman was smiling as he left. Batman was silent in his ear and Superman finally asked, "So? What do you think?"

"... I think we need more information."

"You're just feeling soft because they said they were heroes and were also children," Superman teased.

"How do you know they weren't lying?" Batman sounded angry.

However, Superman wasn't concerned and only laughed. "Lying? For what? They could definitely rip me apart if they wanted. They even had a baby star with them."

"Hnn." The old softie definitely suddenly had a moment of heartache from remembering the baby star.

Superman glanced behind himself, where the fascinating cluster of stars, planets, and black holes all existed in harmony together. The quasar and neutron star lit the way alongside the other stars and the tiny galaxy grew smaller and smaller as Superman flew away.

Whatever this galaxy actually was, Superman would be glad if they could find the help they needed and helped the Justice League in turn.

".... let's come back in a month," Batman said, sounding like it was pulled out from his teeth.

It was good that Batman felt the same way.

Perhaps the next time Superman came, he could chat some more with this little galaxy?

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I did so much research for this, it's crazy 😭

Dan is the black hole and Danny is the neutron star. The reason is that both of them are technically star corpses (a large or high-mass collapsed or dead star can either result in nothing, a black hole, or a neutron star) and while Dan consumes everything around him, Danny is a remnant of a star before him. The planetary nebula that came from Danny going supernova is consumed by his siblings, mostly Jazz or Dani. Dan and Danny don't fight over it bc they love their sisters.

Dani is a protostar, which is also a baby star. I hc that she used to be a star before, but she's just restarting her rebirth until she becomes a black hole or a neutron star like her siblings :3

Jazz is a quasar, which is a different type of black hole, (inspired by this post I made). She and Danny light the way for their little galaxy.

Tucker and Sam are also there, as planets! They used to be stars but they're reborn as planets this time. Tucker is a desert planet with several Saturn-like rings of metals and sand. Sam is a terrestrial planet and is capable of life. All that's on her is plants and animals tho (they haven't gotten enough time to evolve yet). The rest of the crew (Valerie, Wes, etc) are also there and are planets. They never really reach the level of stars tho.

[miley1442111]

believe me- a.hotchner (18+)

summary: aaron is there for you during a particularly difficult case.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!fem! reader

warnings: reader grew up in a cult, mention of hurting women, domestic violence, mental, physical, emotional abuse, children in dangerous situations, miscarriages, abortions, women being treated awfully, i hate this it scares me (i think that's it? PLEASE TELL ME IF I MISSED SOMETHING)

this is pretty dark so I will be saying it's 18+ only because of the content, please remember you manage what you consume, mdni.

not entirely proofread

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You sighed, walking into the bullpen. Another day. 

You sat down at your desk and started on your paperwork with as much enthusiasm as one would assume to be normal, but Aaron knew it wasn’t. He’d been watching you, they all had. The sunken eyes, dry skin, yawning at all hours of the day, refusing to stop working, refusing drinks or food, being ‘too busy’ to come for after work drinks. You had even stopped responding to his texts regarding Jack. You had always been the one on the team that Aaron was closest with, mostly because he was in love with you. Due to that, he also invited you over a lot to watch movies, bake, come to football games, etc with Jack. Jack adored you, probably more than he liked his own father (at least, that’s what Aaron thought). You hadn’t been texting or calling back. You two had gone on a few dates, at first he thought he had done something wrong, but then he watched you closer. It wasn’t him. 

Aaron stepped out of his office. “We have a new case, everyone meet in 5.”

You picked yourself up from your desk and followed him in, sitting in the chair furthest from him. 

“We have a new case, Dallas,” he announced. 4 images of women popped up on the screen, and you looked down, knowing exactly who and what they were. “4 women from the same family, killed in the same way, over one decade.” 

“Were they mother and children?” Spencer asked. 

“Yes,” you answered. “Their names are Delores, Tiffany, Riley, and Freya Howell and they all died via the head trauma they sustained in the ritual. The youngest was 17.” 

They all stared at you. You knew this was coming. You understood it.

“What ritual?” Aaron asked, looking straight at you. 

“The birthing,” you answered simply. 

“Why do you know about this?” Derek asked, just as dumbfounded as the rest of them.

You pointed at the screen. “That’s my mother, that’s my little sister, that’s my older sister, and that’s my cousin. There’s no point in getting us in. No matter what we find they claim religious freedom and hide. It’s a cult and it’s about killing women. I work with children to get them out.”

“So you know people in the cult right now?”

“I lived in that cult. I know every single person on that compound's entire medical, familial, and social history. Including the Supreme Leader. Trust me, they have all the fucking permits they could ever need. I’ve been working with another group to try and take them down, but it doesn’t work.”

“We have to try,” Aaron said, stoic as ever. 

“It doesn’t matter what you throw at them, legally they’re untouchable,” you sighed. “If we really want to help, then we need to work on getting the children out.”

“We need to make them illegal then,” Aaron said matter-of-factly, and you just sighed. 

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On the plane, the team was wary of you, it was fine, you understood why. You had just told them that you grew up in the strange woman-killing cult you were now all going to investigate. 

“So what is ‘the ritual’?” Spencer asked. 

“When a woman is pregnant and they bring it to full-term, they are killed as their child enters the word. In the ‘teachings’ it is said to bring the child the strength of 2 people, and that they carry their mothers’ spirit. That’s why everyone’s middle name is their mothers’,” you explained. “See, it’s unusual for the women at the compound to bring children to full-term, at least, when I was there. And in the ‘teachings’, it was written that no women could get pregnant for years and years, but that one, the Supreme Leaders’ mother, could, and when he was in labour, he told her husband to bludgeon her. He did, and the Supreme Leader was born. They are trying desperately to have a new prophet. A new leader. So they began practising the ‘Ritual’ back when I was probably 12. Also, it’s difficult for women to get any kind of medical care in the compound, since they’ve rejected modern medicine, so it’s not uncommon for women to miscarry.”

“How old were you when you left?” Derek asked, the entire plane silent as you recounted your traumatic past. 

“18,” you explained. “I was one of the lucky ones. My mother was a teacher, before she joined the compound. She never wanted to join, it was always my dad’s idea. So she broke the rules. She taught us and another small group of children maths, English, history, and modern politics from any of the newspapers she could smuggle in. When we turned 18, they gave us a test. It was believed by the Supreme Leader that you were either born with the ability to write or not, and all of us in the group passed, so we were sent out to the world to recruit. We ran away. Found a place that they could never find us, cut all contact with each other, and moved on with our lives. I work with a few of them, trying to get children out, but for our own safety, we all act like we’ve never met before.”

“What happened to the others?”

“The ones who didn’t pass turned into husbands and wives, and then fathers. By the time I was 18 I was already married and on my second pregnancy,” you chuckled sadly. “He almost killed me when I said I was leaving to recruit. The men there, they’re taught to be violent. They’re taught to be animals. They’re taught to hurt women. My only saving grace was the ‘doc’. She was one of the eldest women in the compound. We all thought she was blind and half-dead. But she saved me. When I was about 2 months in, she picked me out of my bed and brought me to the edge of the compound walls. She asked me if I wanted the baby, I said no. She got rid of it. She made it look like a miscarriage.”

They were silent. 

“That’s what we’re up against. Years and years of sexual, physical, and mental abuse. A doctorate that no one believes but the men, and the men have all the power and strength. These women and children need help.”

“H-how many have you gotten out so far?” Penelope asked, tears in her eyes. 

“281,” you nodded. “And there’s still more.”

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Aaron walked you up to your room in the hotel. It had been a long day. You had been on speed dial the entire time, explaining everything to the entire team as you worked with your team on making a plan to evacuate all of the women and children. 

“I’m sorry I haven’t been calling back, all of my weekends have kind of turned into… this,” you explained, looking down. “I do genuinely like you Aaron, but I’d understand if what you found out today is too much or-”

“It's not,” he assured you. “Thank you for your insight, and I’m sorry that you have it.”

You nodded, the motion bubbling up in your throat as you thought over the last 24 hours. “I hope we can help them,” you whispered. 

“We will,” he nodded, wrapping his arms around you and holding you close as you cried into his chest. Aaron vowed something to himself right then and there, he’d always be there for you, no matter what. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”

Aaron helped you inside, helped you change into your pyjamas, helped you get ready for bed, and tucked you in, all while whispering words of encouragement. As you lay in bed, utterly exhausted from the emotional toll of the day, you found yourself reaching for Aaron’s hand. 

“Please stay,” you begged, your voice soft and small. 

How could he ever refuse? 

“Of course,” he whispered. Without a moment's pause, the bed dipped beside you, and Aaron opened his arms to accommodate for you. You settled yourself into his arms and pressed a kiss to his clavicle. 

“Thank you for believing me.”

“I’ll always believe you,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

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criminal minds masterlist :)

navigation for my blog :) (criminal minds, obx, the bear, marvel, top gun, the hunger games :)

[toast-on-dandelioms]

Ehat if reader got captured and turned into a Talon by the court of owls? Lets say they heard a scream for help and went to investigate but it was a trap and the got captured . Lets assume readers spider powers are still used as extra help . Maybe the batfam finds out when the court sends reader to a place that batfam was in. What would be the reactions and what would they do?

Songbird's Eulogy

I'm gonna be honest, I loved this ask and this will become a serie if you guys want to read it!

Dividers made by @thecutestgrotto

W.C: 8k

Tw: blood, description of dead bodies and their wounds, probably bad description of Alzheimer in a character

The air in the Batcave was so thick with tension that it could be cut with a knife, most of the family present except for Alfred, who was upstairs cooking dinner and Cassandra, who was in Hong Kong at the moment.

Tim was at the computer next to Bruce, who was observing Tim working while the younger vigilante was typing away and looking at several screens that played what looked like the same videos all at the same time, trying to find anything different in it even if the video kept showing the same things over and over again while mumbling stuff with Bruce, exchanging theories as to what was happening or if one of the two found anything that the other missed.

Dick and Damian were sparring but both were distracted, as they were both doing the same moves over and over again, their eyes unfocused as their minds were thinking of the case while Jason and Duke were both working on their bikes, exchanging tools and also sharing information of the case as Jason had some information thanks to the Crime Alley kids, even though it did cost him a lot since many of those kids had contradicting stories so knowing which ones were true or not was difficult and time consuming.

Stephanie was the only one who was sipping on some tea Alfred made her a few minutes ago while reading the same file of the case to see if the police missed anything or to see if her reading it for the 20th time would result in her finding something she didn't notice before, her eye twitching as she kept hearing the same ominous whistle from the speakers on the batcomputer, making it even more annoying and creepy.

The yet another ominous whistle is her breaking point. She suddenly slams the cup on the hard wood of the table, as if she wants it to tremble. Luckily the cup didn't break. As everybody realises where the sound is coming from their head snap towards that direction, as if snapping out a trance. This unexpected event pulled Dick out his alert mode, and as Damian's punch hit his side he falls down in pain, loudly complaining about the hit being "too strong" while Damian ignores him to walk up to Tim and Bruce. Jason and Duke also both looked up from their bikes with a concerned look, they were both tuning out the audio from the batcomputer for the twelfth time, and almost jumped at the sharp sound.

Bruce looked at Stephanie without saying anything as the girl glared at him and Tim, who just looked like he was on the bring of a nervous breakdown as he was replaying the videos at the same time to find anything that could be useful for the case, even though he was doing that for at least two days and nothing showed up, even though he sent all those videos through all kinds of analysis software the batcomputer had and even the Justice League had in the Watchtower.

"Can you please stop replaying that damn whistle?! I've been hearing that shit for the past week and I swear to god, if I hear that one more time I will kill you Timothy Jackson Drake and no Lazarus pit will be able to resuscitate you after I am done with you."

And Stephanie did look ready to kill, her eye twitching as she glared at Tim, who just sipped on a cup full of an overly caffeinated drink with eye bags so prominent that the girl wondered for a few seconds how long he'd been awake to study the security feeds from Babs, autopsy records, police reports and any leads the detectives had at the moment and whatever the vigilantes could find.

The girl kept glaring at Tim, ignoring Dick's groans and Damian's voice as he told him to stop being a baby, while Duke and Jason went back to take care of their own bikes while still talking.

In her frustration, she threw all the files that she was reading on the table, ignoring how all the papers and the photos in the files scattered on the table and made a mess.

"How the hell are we supposed to find this supposed killer?! The only thing we have is this fucking whistle" she started, her frustration clear in her face as she hadn't slept in days thanks to the extra hours of patrol and her refusing to go to sleep to help with the case, "and this!".

She stopped her rant to quickly search through all the files and photos for a specific one, stopping once she found two that she deemed good enough and grabbed them before walking up to Tim and Bruce since they were the ones who were the closest, ignoring Dick and Damian who were walking up to them to see what was happening.

The moment she showed them the pictures, everything fell silent. Faint breaths were felt in the air, like oxygen was slowly running out as tension and discomfort slowly grew as everyone stared at the pictures. The photos were horrid, whoever did that was full of rage as both bodies on the photos were scratched, especially on their sides, arms and chest, like the killer was scratching them while the victims were trying to cover themselves with their bodies as other areas of their body, like their chest and stomach was ok with no scratches present. But the most horrible thing that caught everyone's eyes just like the first time they all saw the bodies was that both victims sported the same killing method, with both of them having their necks cut open in the most gruesome way possible as the killer scratched the necks of the victims.

Everyone shuddered, except Stephanie, as they stared at the photos since the girl was showing them to everyone around her to make a point and to show how crazy it was to find any clues just from those wounds.

The older man stared at his kids without saying anything as Damian and Stephanie started arguing once again about who did it, with Stephanie accusing the League for all the murders happening in Gotham while Damian was defending the League as he explained that no good assassin trained under the League, and especially under his grandfather, would kill their targets in such a stupid and sadistic way since they were trained to kill efficiently and quickly while this killer acted like they were playing with their victims and wanted their deaths to be slow.

Bruce just sighed as he recognised how exhausted his kids were from the stress of the case while they kept fighting, with Dick joining Steph's side and Tim joining Damian's, knowing that they wouldn't listen to him if he told them to take a break or to stop fighting, especially since he was always the first one to ignore that suggestion when offered.

He quickly grabbed his phone once he heard it ringing, thinking and hoping it was Gordon or Barbara with any news about the case before looking confused and worried when he saw that it was Alfred calling him. He picked up and could hear a woman's voice in the background talking to someone as Alfred just said "Master Bruce, Miss Amelie has arrived with Boris and she wants to see you, it seems that she's having an episode" before hanging up, most likely to make some tea for the unexpected but not unwelcome guests that arrived.

He sighed before noticing Tim looking at him alongside the others who stopped fighting once they heard what Alfred said on the call, making him sigh once again since he knew he couldn't ignore Amelie to keep working on the case so he just started walking to the elevator to get upstairs faster instead of using the stairs.

He looked a bit surprised when both Jason and Damian also got in the elevator but didn't say anything to the duo, knowing how close the two have gotten to the woman after years of her coming to the Manor looking for him. He thanked Tim patience for managing to convince Alfred on getting a smartphone so he could call and text the rest of the bats without having to get down to the cave every time due to his old age, which proved itself useful as now the older man had now a folder full of recipes he and Jason share to each other, plus all the passive aggressive messages towards everyone or someone specific when he found them not taking care of themselves.

As the trio walked to the room designated for her when she decided to come they could already hear the woman talk to a man who was trying to calm he down, before stopping to look at the door once she heard Bruce knocking and then entering. The woman immediately ran to Bruce in tears, her beautiful hair in the messiest bun that made Bruce wonder what happened as he knew how attentive she was with her hair as a model, something that she now didn't do as much after the accident, and her eyes almost fully red from her tears.

"Bruce! Bruce you have to listen, my baby is out there, I know that [Y/N] is not dead! The hospital keeps telling me that my little star is dead but I know that they're lying! Bruce please, find our little star". She started crying once again, her face on his chest with her hands holding his shirt as she cried about [Y/N] not being dead, that her little star was out there and to not listen to the hospital and the police, begging the man to help her.

Bruce looked at Boris, who just sighed when he locked eyes with him and shook his head, looking exhausted with bags under his eyes that were challenging Tim's, before looking down at Amelie once again. He only now noticed that she was in her pajama, one of her slippers missing, and holding one of [Y/N]'s old plushie to her chest with one hand as she kept her tight hold on his shirt with the other hand, her hand trembling like she believed that he wouldn't believe her if she let go of him. "Amelie, it's ok, we're searching for [Y/N] along with the police, we'll find them soon" he murmured softly as he managed to untie her hair and brush it a bit with his fingers to help her relax, smiling softly as she visibly started to relax when she felt his hands in her hair and massaging her scalp.

"Find our baby, please" she mumbled, her hold on his shirt starting to loosen as he kept massaging her scalp, making Bruce hum and reassured her for a few minutes, knowing that it was helping as she slowly let go of him and just hugged the plushie close to her chest.

Once he knew she was calm enough after all the reassurance, he gently put his hands on her shoulders to lead her to the couch, where Damian and Jason were already sitting and waiting for her and Bruce. On the table in front of the couch were a few albums and after helping her sit down on it he handed one to her, opening it to a random page and pointing to a random photo of [Y/N], who was giving their biggest smile while on the car, their mouth and cheeks covered in ice cream. "Why don't you tell them who [Y/N] is, I'm sure Damian is curious to know about his older sibling," He suggested softly, smiling to her as she immediately started to talk about [Y/N] while leaning on Jason, the plushie now in Damian's arms as the two boys listened intently to the woman even though they probably heard the same story almost every month, but they didn't seem to care especially when the woman would remember new stories every time she came.

Bruce got up when he knew Amelie was fully engrossed in talking about [Y/N] and walked up to Boris, knowing the man was her caretaker and most importantly, he was the only person who knew her best. "Boris what happened? Are you ok?" he asked, mostly wanting to know if she was getting too hard to handle for him alone as he saw a bruise on his cheek and if he needed help, knowing how much he was already doing for the poor woman since the accident.

"I was making her lunch when she went in [Y/N]'s old room and started to call for them but I was too busy to hear her and distract her. She started crying and started to remember that night, I'm sorry Bruce but I can't do this alone anymore." was what the man said out of exhaustion, his eyes filling with tears as he tried to keep it together while in the same room of Amelie, probably not wanting to cause her distress if she saw him crying.

Bruce just nodded and patted the man on the shoulder before walking him to the kitchen, smiling at Alfred when he already had some tea ready for them and few sandwiches on a plate. He sat down on a stool next to Boris and offered him some of the little sandwiches, knowing the man probably skipped dinner to come to the Manor with Amelie at such late hour.

"Boris, we've been friends ever since Amelie came here for the first time after what happened, and you know I wouldn't say this if I didn't believe you could do this alone, but you need to hire another caretaker or at least a house keeper so she can help you with normal activities." He started, knowing the man was stubborn and also felt responsible of taking care of Amelie after the accident. "I mean look at you! Did she hit you or?" He asked, noticing that the bruise was already fading, which meant that it happened some time ago but still made it concerning since Amelie was never violent before.

Boris sighed once again, making Bruce wonder if that was the only thing the man did all day, before explaining "It was my fault, I entered the house late at night after having to run to the store to grab a few things that I needed badly for Amelie and for lunch but she thought I was an intruder, she didn't recognise me," he stopped for a second to take a deep breath, tears slowly running down his eyes as he remembered the look of fear in Amelie's face as she didn't recognise him, "I managed to take off my hat but she did manage to throw a small statue we had in the living room at my face" he finished.

Bruce patted the man's back when he heard Boris's sigh and offered him a few tissues, knowing the man was tired and would finally accept his help in the form of a caretaker or house keeper that he would pay for, even though he's already paying for his mortgage and every single bill without the Belarusian man knowing, not wanting him to feel indebted to the richer man than he already felt.

"Maybe a house keeper can help me, the house is honestly a mess and I can't keep up with it, plus I can't keep looking out for her when cooking, it's just impossible for me only" Boris said before starting devouring all the sandwiches on the plate, stopping once or twice to drink some tea so he wouldn't choke. He blushed when he noticed Bruce watching him "I haven't eaten in two days, Amelie has been incredibly difficult and I never found the time to eat" he explained and thanked Alfred when the older man presented him with a plate full of pasta that he made for the starving man once he heard his stomach grumble loudly when he entered the kitchen.

Bruce smiled at him and patted him on the back once again "it's ok Boris, I'll hire someone and pay for it, you just relax here for a bit and eat, you look spent" he said before suddenly hearing Barbara's voice in his ears, telling him that another body was found in an alley thanks to a few cameras around and she already notified the police but he should send someone there before the police ruins the crime scene.

The man quickly got up and escused himself out of the room to use the comms in his ear to tell Damian and Duke to go, telling both boys that this was top priority and to go immediately, ignoring Damian's complaints since he was with Amelie and she was finally telling him and Jason a new story about [Y/N]. He once again ignored the boy's complains and ordered him to go with Duke as he needed him to protect Duke while he was using his meta abilities as all the previous crime scenes didn't reveal anything so they needed Duke's abilities to know something.

As he finished speaking to Damian and receiving confirmation that he was going with Duke he went back into the kitchen to smile at Boris, who was at his second plate of pasta and absolutely devouring the dish, and gave him a quick excuse "sorry, some problems at the WE, make yourself comfortable and Alfred will take care of everything" before leaving to the batcave, sending a quick text to everyone currently in the Manor to not leave anything bat related upstairs as there were guests staying in the Manor. He sent the text as he entered the elevator, the doors closing in front of him as his thumb pressed sent on the text.

When the doors of the elevator opened again to show the familiar cave he quickly ran to the batcomputer to check the video that Babs sent, a bit surprised when he saw that Tim wasn't on the chair right in front of the computer like he expected but he quickly found him once he scanned the room, sleeping on the floor with Stephanie on top of him as she sipped on her tea and using her phone like she didn't do anything when she noticed Bruce looking at her with his usual dissapointed stare.

"Hey I warned him, he's the one who played that whistle again so I just executed on my threat" was the only thing she said before going back to using her phone like nothing happened, making Bruce sigh but he didn't do anything about it since Tim was sleeping instead of focusing on the case and drinking ungodly amounts of coffee and energy drinks. "Just move him to his room afterwards, don't want him to sleep in the cave" was the only thing he said as he sat on the chair and focused on the multitude of screens of the batcomputer.

He opened the new video once he finally received the notification from Babs, keeping his line with Duke and Damian open to be ready if anything happened to the two while at the crime scene, before sitting back to watch the video, hoping that it wouldn't be as useless as the others they had.

Duke was in his bike with Damian behind him with his own helmet, talking with Babs on the comms as she guided him to the crime scene, breaking so many laws as he drove since he knew that if he got there after the GCPD then the crime scene would be ruined and it would be difficult for him to use his ability with police officers walking around the crime scene.

As he took a very sharp turn he quickly switched his comms line to talk with Damian and asked "you ok there little man?", knowing that he was driving very dangerously but he couldn't afford to waste a single second by following the law at the moment. He laughed when he just heard Damian click his tongue and then just lightly hit the side of his helmet to say that he was ok.

The duo quickly got off the bike when they finally reached the alley and Damian quickly went around it to close off the alley both ways so the GCPD wouldn't enter it without his permission and mess up the crime scene while Duke set his bike in the other side of the road in another alley before finally walking inside the right alley, stepping over the yellow tape Damian quickly put before going to the other side of the alley, taking many pictures of all the blood he saw on the floor in small puddles, alongside a phone that he quickly put in an evidence bag so Babs could see if there was anything that could be useful.

He found a gun with only one bullet inside while the bullets rounds were lying around before the body, and as he grabbed it to put in an evidence plastic bag, alongside the used bullets rounds in another bag. He quickly found the bullets that were fired in a small pile next to the victim's body, all covered in blood and obviously having been taken out of whoever got shot, making him shudder when he saw them as he wondered who was crazy enough to actually pull the bullets out of their body and leave them on a pile like they were returning them.

When he finally reached the body he had to give himself a minute at the sight of the man's slaughtered throat, feeling bile coming up his throat as he couldn't manage to look away at the man's body, the terrified expression on the poor man's face as he died still impressed on his face, his clothes tattered and in some parts torn that Duke's first thought was that he got attacked by a wild animal but the clean cuts on his arms and cheeks showed that it wasn't an animal.

As he stared at the corpse his hand slowly travelled to his throat as he felt pain from it, like he was experiencing the same pain the man felt when it happened and he didn't even use his powers to see the past, making him even more horrified at what he was seeing.

With trembling hands he raised his phone to take some photos of the body and the black veins that showed on the side of his neck, making Duke think that the man probably got poisoned but he couldn't pinpoint the exact poison used just from the black in his veins and skin.

As he kept taking photos he noticed that the black travelled down to his right arm, probably where the man got poisoned with a needle or knife but he couldn't see it from where he was standing so he slowly encouraged himself to move, trying his hardest not to puke as he put on some gloves so he wouldn't leave any prints that could incriminate him or ruin the crime scene.

He slowly raised the torn sleeve of the man's shirt to hopefully find the knife or needle wound but instead he saw something that made him connect his mask camera's to the batcomputer so Bruce could see what the boy was seeing, as he was sure the photo wouldn't be able to capture everything he was seeing.

The right arm of the man had a bite mark that was obviously made by a human mouth, making Duke feel sick and almost puke as he could see how deep the bite was just by the skin around it broke, showing signs of struggle from the man but that didn't do anything to stop it or making it let go of him.

Duke got up and made a signal to Damian to stay alert as he was gonna use his powers and needed the boy to be ready since he would be vulnerable while watching what happened, afraid of what he was gonna see after seeing the man's wounds and bite. He also turned off his mask's camera to not worry Bruce once it all turned black from his powers.

He sighed and started using the shadows of the alley to use his Ghost vision, his eyes turning white completely as his body froze in place to watch and finally know who the killer was.

(this is what happened, it will be written with italics)

Duke opened his eyes and saw that he was now in the same alley and was standing right in front of the guy, now alive and animatedly talking on the phone with someone as he paced back and fort in the alley while smoking a cigarette.

Duke ignored the man's conversation with whoever he was at the other end of the phone call to slowly walk around the alley, mostly to see if there was anything suspicious that wasn't there when he first came to check the body but unfortunately everything was the same as when he arrived for the first time.

He kept looking around for a bit before stopping when he heard an ominous whistle, the same one he heard from all the videos Babs sent them, making him grab his eskrima sticks to defend himself and the man out of habit before remembering that this already happened and he couldn't do anything to stop whatever happened next.

Duke looked back at the man when he heard him stop talking after he heard the whistle, his face turning into a terrified expression, his phone dropping on the floor as he tried to grab his gun with shaking hands, making it more difficult for the man as Duke could see how nervous he was. Both men froze as they heard the same whistle from the same being but with more insistence to it, like they were asking permission or calling for someone with how insistent the whistle sounded to the African-American teen.

Both men quickly looked to the other side of the alley, showing a badly illuminated street thanks to a broken streetlamp that kept going on and off, showing an empty street but once it went off and on again a kid, maybe 14 years old or less was standing in the alley under the streetlight.

As they both stared at the kid, Duke tried to study the kid since the alley wasn't that big but could only see up to the kid's face, even though most of it was hidden by a white mask that was familiar but he couldn't really see it perfectly from that distance while the man was cursing under his breath in Italian, making Duke wonder who the kid was and how the man knew them and especially wanted to know why he was so scared of them.

Then, all of the sudden, a low whistle came from the rooftop of one of the buildings around them, making the kid jump up in joy before getting in position, making Duke curse under his breath as he managed to understand that the kid was he killer from how scared the man was after he heard the other whistle.

Everything else happened in such a blur that Duke thought Flash was in Gotham by how fast the kid was that even he had difficulty see them, before seeing that they were biting the man's arm, their teeth so deep in the skin that blood was already trickling out the kid's mouth and into the floor to form a few small puddles.

In panic and from the pain of the bite, Duke witnessed the man shoot the kid in the leg for two times and three times on the sides when he saw that the kid didn't even flinch from being shot in the leg but the kid remained attached to his arm, black slowly spreading around their mouth to the man's skin, making him drop the gun.

Once the kid finally pulled away from the man, Duke could see that the venom was already spreading from the black spreading through the man's arm and was slowly going to his head.

Duke kept watching in horror and in guilt as he could've been there to save the man but instead of patrolling the street he was back at the cave to help the others solve the case of these killings while the actual murderer was watching one of their many victims cry and beg for their life while smiling with their mouth full of blood of the victim.

He thought that would be the end of it, that the kid would kill the man by tearing his throat open but instead the kid skipped over the man, making the man stumble back before falling on the floor, claws coming out of their fingers like cats, and just started scratching the poor man body with no objective, their smile the worst thing Duke was seeing as he could see how the kid wasn't being forced or controlled by someone.

No, they were doing this because they liked it. They thought it was fun.

As the vigilante watched, he heard another whistle from the same person but it was shorter, like the person was calling the kid like it was time to go home and to stop playing since the kid looked annoyed when they heard that whistle since their smile got replaced by a pout.

Duke watched as the kid huffed and looked down at the man before smiling once again and leaned down as the man kept begging to be let go, that he wouldn't work for The Penguin anymore and that he was sorry for everything he did but the kid just kept smiling as they put their hand on the man's neck, their claws slowly retracting but not going fully back.

The kid kept smiling as the mask stared right into the man's eyes as he calmed down, thinking the kid was gonna let go of him, like he was spared and got lucky before his eyes got wide in fear and pain as the kid's claws came out and the kid tore open his throat, his hands trembling as he tried to cover the bleeding wound, his fingers and hands already covered in blood by how fast he was losing blood.

Duke just watched as the man's eyes filled with tears as he watched the mask of the kid and their smile, knowing that his death wasn't an act of revenge or because he was a bad person. His death was just the sick ending of a game the kid was playing and he was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He kept watching as the kid then used a wall as support as they used their claws to pull out the bullets like nothing happened, leaving all of them on a small pile near the man, making Duke wonder once again what even the kid was when they weren't reacting to pain normal people would be screaming and crying from.

The last thing he saw before the vision stopped was the face of the kid staring directly at him, like they knew he was there since they gave him the biggest smile possible and even waved at him before his vision went black, their mask the only thing he could see as he was still trying to remember where he saw a mask like the one they were wearing.

(end of flashback)

Duke gasped as he finally woke up to the real time and not watching the murder happen before starting to hyperventilate and move around in the alley like he couldn't see as he couldn't figure out what was happening around him and he couldn't stop seeing the kid's smile and the man's face filled with terror as he couldn't do anything to help the victim and was made to watch a slaughter.

In his panic he didn't see Damian running up to him and calling his vigilante name but could feel someone pushing him and moving him before feeling himself getting carried somewhere, surely by Damian as he knew he was the only one there that could help him.

Everything else happened in a blur, he could feel himself being carried somewhere via grappling hook as he could feel the wind on his face and then the cold bricks of the rooftops under his fingers, making him calm down as he could feel that he wasn't in the alley.

He did relax a bit once he knew he wasn't in that alley but just couldn't calm down, his mind too focused on what he saw and wouldn't let him remember any of his calming techniques that Bruce and Jason taught him, his eyes slowly filling up with tears as he felt like he was gonna pass out as he kept gasping but felt like no air was entering his lungs.

Duke was still gasping for air when he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Bruce's face without his cowl, making the poor boy surprised as he knew the man's strict rules on the masks when out on patrol before seeing the man breathing and gesturing the boy to copy him and after a few tries where Duke couldn't focus enough and started crying he managed to copy Bruce's breathing, his mind slowling down as oxygen finally started entering his lungs.

He smiled at the man when he finally calmed down enough to not need to copy's Bruce's breathing and just hugged the man, too grateful to care that they were on patrol and that he had important information about the murder that happened in the alley. No, he just needed a moment in his father's arms, even though his real father was still at the hospital but Bruce was there and he needed to feel protected and safe and he knew that Bruce's arms where he felt the safest.

As the two hugged, he looked at Damian and just smiled when he saw that the boy was standing next to them, hand on his katana to be ready if anyone suddenly came to attack them, making a mental note to hug the younger boy when they would go back to the Cave.

[Damian Pov]

He was annoyed. He was angry.

Those were the only two emotions he felt as he waited in the alley while Duke used his meta abilities for the case. He should've been home with Amelie, listening to another story of his older sibling and how they would climb stuff just to grab something because they refused to admit that they needed the small ladder they had in the kitchen that was there specifically for them.

But instead he was on a smelly alleyway in Gotham and waiting for the police while playing on his phone, acting distracted but he was still high alert and ready to strike anyone with a small batarang if they were going to attack Duke while he was watching.

While waiting he did feel watched but even after doing a quick check around the alley and the rooftops near the alley showed that there was no one the younger vigilante considered a threat to him and the yellow vigilante, making him even more frustrated as he was craving for a fight just to relieve some stress.

After a bit he noticed that the GCPD had finally came with Jim Gordon in one of the two cars so he quickly walked up to the detective so he could start the investigations right after Signal was done using his abilities, discussing with the older man about the murder and how the police should take care of the evidence as he saw in the other case files the detectives didn't take everything around the victim and there was some missing information because of the missing evidence, which didn't sit right with Damian and made him even more annoyed that the police wasn't doing its job right.

While talking he suddenly heard some noises from the alley and as he turned around he could already see Duke in distress by the way he moved and breather that he immediately ran up to him and after assessing the situation and how Duke was too much in distress to answer him he managed to pick him up and grapple away, using the comms to call Babs and how he needed someone to come help him as he didn't know how to calm Duke.

Once he reached a rooftop that Babs said was safe since it didn't have any cameras around, he quickly put Duke down and tried to calm him down using Dick's lessons but couldn't manage to get Duke focus on him as he kept moving and pushing him away whenever he touched the older boy and didn't listen to him.

As he kept trying to calm down Duke he started to grow frustrated, not towards Duke as he knew he probably saw something that shocked him deeply which caused the panic attack, but he was frustrated with himself as he couldn't remember Dick's advice and seeing how he couldn't help Duke made him feel helpless.

He was an assassin, he knew how to kill a man with just a pen and leave no traces. He knew every poison known and unknown to man and was incredibly smart for his age but couldn't manage to help one of his family out of an panic attack.

He felt useless but when he saw his father land on the rooftop he couldn't help but breathe out a sigh of relief as he knew Duke was in good hands now that he was here to help and moved out the way to stand guard and protect them as he wanted to do something and feel useful in his own way, walking around the roof to check if anyone could get there to attack them.

As he stood guard, a hand on his katana ready to grab it if needed and the other on a pouch that contained some batarangs in case, he suddenly felt a presence from behind him, making him quickly unsheath his katana and attack whoever managed to get behind him before standing there in shock as a Talon, more precisely a kid was standing in front of him and blocking the blade of his katana with their hands. As he stared he noticed that they weren't using their hands but some sorts of talon that were coming out of their fingers.

He glared at the kid and let go of his katana when he knew that it wouldn't be useful to fight and decided to use it as a distraction by letting go of it, smirking when he saw the kid look at the katana falling and used the few seconds to turn his body around to kick them on the chest with all his strength to push them away, watching as they tumbled a bit before falling in another Talon's arms in a dramatic way that Damian didn't notice, too occupied to stare at the other Talon who just arrived to think that the kid was being dramatic.

He quickly grabbed his katana and put it back in its sheath, keeping one hand on his birdrangs while he watched the masked kid and Talon look at each other via their mask before the kid started signing stuff that Damian couldn't understand as he recognise the sign language they were using.

As he watched them sign he turned to look at Bruce and Duke and was shocked to see Duke looking like he'd seen a ghost as the vigilante stared at the kid who was furiously signing to the Talon and looked frustrated when said Talon signed something that they didn't agree with.

He looked at Duke and Bruce and made a hand signal to Bruce to keep an eye on the duo as he checked on Duke, wanting to see if he was ok and could keep his posture if the two Talons decided to fight the three vigilantes, confused as to why they were there as they managed to take down the Court just two months ago and sent many Talons to a secret building out of Gotham, where they could be fee from the Court's influence.

Damian quickly walked up to the African-American male and grabbed his arm, forcing him to get up "Signal, report on what you saw in the alley, make it quick. We don't have time to useless details" he demanded, needing to know if Duke had some useful information to use in the upcoming fight and especially if the two Talons thee were involved in the streak of murders happening around Gotham.

Duke looked down at Damian as he was still looking at the kid and the Talon who were still fighting in their own sign language, his face looking like he swallowed a very sour candy before starting to talk "a Talon obviously but they're different from the other Talons we fought Robs." He took a deep breath to think about what he was supposed to say to be useful for him and Damian in the imminent fight.

"You have to be on your guard when fighting against that kid Robs, they're the ones who have been killing people in Gotham" he started, taking a deep breath as he tried to remember what he saw and staying calm, knowing he could seriously put Damian and Bruce at a disadvantage if he had another panic attack. "They're fast and have talons on their fingers that can be retractable. Their bite is venomous and it seems like the venom is very quick to spread if you get bitten." he explained, shuddering as he remembered the kid biting that man's arm.

The trio froze when they heard the kid whistle happily and jump around like they won something big while the Talon looked defeated, a hand on his shaking head but the three vigilantes could see by his body language that he was amused by the kid celebrating even though his whole face was covered by a mask.

Damian immediately got in fighting position with his katana and signalled for Duke and Bruce to do the same as he knew that the kid wanted to fight before watching, confusion clearly written in his eyes, as the kid started taking off parts of their armour like their chest plate and throwing it on the ground until their only piece of armour were two metal pieces on both arms and legs while everything else was left open and was just covered by some black clothing that looked too big on the kid.

By the way they were taking off most of their armour, it seemed like they wanted to feel every hit on their body like a sick maniac who is eager to feel anything that brings them joy or even just a thrill of excitement and the adrenaline that comes with it.

Duke was ready with his eskrima sticks in hand and stood next to Bruce, unsure on who the assassin wanted to fight first but he was ready to help if they suddenly attacked either Bruce or Damian. The older man grabbed his batarangs and glared at the two Talons, unsure on what they wanted but ready to fight if they tried anything to hurt his family.

Damian watched in silence as the kid finished taking off most of their armour before staring back at Duke and Damian with the same smile on their face, a bit confused when he saw them frowning as he watched them. He was too late to realise what was happening when the kid whistled two tunes at the same time and stood next to the Talon.

The youngest vigilante barely had time to warn his father before the Talon suddenly attacked the man, pushing the man to a part away from the kids on the rooftop while the kid applauded as he watched the two fight. He turned to glare at the other Talon and barely had time to raise his katana to protect himself as the kid was suddenly in front of him and used his talons to scratch his face.

He struggled a bit to hold his katana, his arms shaking as the kid was pushing their talons to reach his face. Fortunately for Damian, Duke was there to rescue him by kicking the kid on the stomach, making them stumble away while holding their stomach.

But they didn't back down as the Talon quickly recovered in not even a minute and this time attacked Duke with their talons, who was ready with his eskrima sticks and defended himself before pushing their talons down and managing to punch them right in the face.

As the three fought, Bruce was fighting with the older Talon before noticing that he wasn't trying to kill him like every other fight he had with his association but instead he was trying to keep him away from his kids and the shorter Talon that was with him, making the bat vigilante confused as to what their relationship was as he never knew that Talons could form familiar relationships in the Court.

Damian frowned as he and Duke weren't strong enough to capture the kid or not even manage to make them falter slightly. He glared at the kid who was looking at their nails while waiting for the two to regain their breath, making Damian even more angry as he knew the kid was obviously making fun of him and Duke by the way they were acting.

He made a hand motion towards Duke to tell him to get ready as he ran towards the kid, starting to fight them and keep them occupied as Duke made his eskrima sticks connect to turn them into nunchaku, starting to whirled around to gain speed until Damian managed to push them away and distract them for enough time so he could hit them in the face, and in the process made their mask fall off alongside their hoodie from the way they fell.

Damian stared as the kid laid down on the rooftop floor, completely frozen as their eyes were closed before suddenly opening them and getting up with a sick smile on their face, not caring that the two vigilantes could see their face, pushing some of their hair away from their face as the hoodie let their hair free.

Damian watched in shock as he was standing right in front of [Y/N], their older sibling who was believed to be dead or missing after they disappeared 8 years ago from a car accident while on their way home after attending the kid's dance recital. The same kid who was now standing in front of him, looking no older than 12 and wearing the Talon's uniform.

He couldn't do anything as they whistled and looked at the other Talon, who pushed Bruce away and walked up to them, grabbing their stuff in the process before picking them up and walking over the rooftop edge.

He finally managed to move once he realised that he was about to let his older sibling go without doing anything and started running towards the Talon, ignoring Bruce and Duke's voices before yelling out a "[Y/N]", reaching his hand out to grab them but was too late as the Talon jumped off the roof and as he looked down they already disappeared into the night.

The only thing that he could think as he thought of everything that happened was 'I need them back', especially now that he knew that his older sibling, the one he heard so many stories about and dreamed of hanging out with them. He refused to let them leave now that he knew he would have the possibility to have them in his life.

And he would do anything to have them back.

[reiincarnatiion]

shadows of destiny | azriel x reader | part three

summary: azriel jealous and yearning for Y/N

🧚‍♀️

a/n: sorry guys for the long assss wait, ive been on exchange in the uk so i have been busy living life hehe, still here and loving it!! hope you guys like this one, love you all cuties <33 also this isnt proof read so sorry for any mistakes! let me know what you think, i love all of your sweet messages !! eeeeeee

read : [part one] [part two]

-----🩷🧚‍♀️💗------

You woke up the next morning with a throbbing headache and a parched mouth, confused as to how you had made it to your bed from last night. The morning sun streamed through the curtains, casting a hazy glow over your room.

Groaning loudly, you cursed as you shifted your weight around, consequently turning your head to come face to face with Lucien's chiseled features, peacefully sleeping next to you. It took you a second to realize he was shirtless as well.

You screamed, "WHAT THE FUCK?!"

His mechanical eye swirled open, followed by his other. "Tell me we didn't."

"DID what," Lucien murmured, a small smirk gracing his features as he stared up at the ceiling. Amusement danced in his eyes as he stretched languidly against the sheets. His morning rasp tingled inside you and nicked at you annoyingly. This could not have happened. The headache of whatever liquids and maybe even other substances you had consumed yesterday hit you hard, and you fell back to face the ceiling as well, nausea threatening to overwhelm you.

"You little slut, you know what I meant," you groaned, rolling onto your front in a feeble attempt to quell the oncoming headache and urge to vomit.

You felt Lucien shift next to you as well, attempting to detangle himself from the crisp black sheets of your bed. "We must have done it."

"NO Lucien."

"YES."

"NO, I CAN'T-"

"…why not," Lucien breathed out. His demeanor had changed since you last saw him sober; something had happened last night, and you could not remember, but he was acting differently.

"All I am saying is that last night made me realize things about you, Y/N…" he continued, rising from the sheets. You raised your eyes in horror, ready to scream because you did not want to get flashed by fiery dick-

-a pair of orange breeches came into view.

"Oh."

"Upset that we didn't actually sleep together, Y/N?"

An unknown feeling of red-hotness spread throughout your face, turning your cheeks pink. "I hate you, Lucien," you hummed.

"What did you realize, Lucien?"

"That I pretend to not care the way Azriel and Elain make heart eyes at each other, but on the inside, it's like a knife twisting inside me," he deadpanned, and you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"What???" he groaned, falling down next to you. "Nothing, Luc, I just feel sorry for us, that's all.

~

Azriel sat at the dining table, swirling the black coffee mindlessly. It was 2 pm, and his shadows had begun reporting how the others had finally begun stirring awake after their long night. They had gotten back at 5 am, the sun slowly beginning to peek through the trees and buildings of Velaris, and he had watched from afar as Lucien carried Y/N to her room.

He had not come out afterwards. His shadows had been in an unfamiliar frenzy, yelling to slip through and see what was happening in that bedroom, to investigate how good he gave it to her because Azriel just knew. He knew he could give it to her better.

He clenched his fists at the picture his shadows had painted for him of the events which probably had unfolded in her room. What was it with his sexual urges with Y/N all of a sudden? She was just his friend. She had always just been his friend. Maybe he had had a little crush on her before. Maybe when she would walk into a room and his palms would sweat, he would chastise himself for wearing too many layers. Or how when she used to make his heart beat irregularly, he would tell Rhys about anxiety. It was easier to let them think he had a disorder rather than admit feelings. Because maybe, just maybe he had had slight feelings towards her for centuries. But there was Elain now.

He liked Elain.

"Good Morning Azriel!" a sweet voice chirped, as Elain entered the dining room, a sweet tea held in her perfectly manicured hands. Even after a night out, she looked perfect. Her hair looked freshly blow-dried, and her lips tinted pink, looking fresh and kissable. He smiled gently, and her eyes brightened as she took a seat next to him, murmuring things about last night and how odd it was to see Lucien with Y/N.

"I just don't think he should have danced like that with her, what do you think?" she whispered, her eyes shining.

"I know it was disrespectful to you," Azriel nodded back, looking into her glassy doe eyes. Out of the corner of his eyes, he felt a sudden burst of movement from his shadows, but the warning wasn't quick enough as two figures walked into the room.

God, she looked horrible.

Elain let out a comical gasp, and the corner of his mouth lifted as Y/N walked into the room, her hair messy and disturbed, like someone had pulled on it, ran their hands through it. Her presence snatched on his gaze, it pulled it towards him, and Azriel found himself unable to look away.

Her eyes lazily dragged over Azriel, raking up his body, and never before had he felt so hot. But he did not break eye contact with her either, he maintained it, willing and daring her to break it first.

Their eyes met in a silent battle of wills, a tension simmering beneath the surface as they sized each other up. It was a fleeting moment, but it spoke volumes, leaving Azriel reeling in its wake.

"Lucien, can we talk?" Elain broke the silence.

Everyone blinked and looked at the innocent girl sitting down. Azriel watched as she looked into Lucien’s eyes, with her innocent look, and he mentally chuckled. She was doing damage control, and it was working because his shadows were reporting the increase in Lucien’s heartbeat.

“Of course,” Lucien whispered and pushed past Y/N, whisking Elain away out of the room.

Charged silence followed. Azriel went back to nursing his coffee which had gone cold now. He felt Y/N scoff and mutter something under her breath which sounded a whole lot like "bitch," as she moved around the place, into the connecting kitchen, trying to will the House to make her a cup of its strongest coffee. They didn’t say a word to each other, but Azriel could feel the tension in the air. He didn’t know where it had formed from, what abyss it had risen from, he just knew there was something that needed to be addressed between them before his head and his heart exploded.

“What was that from last night?” he let out a breath finally, his shadows jittering around the place. He looked up from his swirling black coffee to see Y/N cease her movements in the corner of the kitchen. Her short night dress, barely covering her ass, had ridden up as she had been bent over the kitchen bench. Azriel felt himself stiffen, so he looked away quickly, adjusting himself.

“What do you mean,” she replied, turning around with a neutral expression on her face, guarding her emotions. She carefully padded her way to the table, setting the coffee down and placing herself directly in front of him. Her scent wafted over him, and his jaw ticked, but he didnt show any emotion. His dark eyes bore into hers, his shadows fought to sift over her, wanting to know her thoughts, her feelings, her emotions. Alas, she showed nothing.

“You and Lucien…” he drawled out, pretending to ask nonchalantly.

“We just danced to Azriel, I was really drunk,” she whispered softly, placing her hands together on her lap.

“You emerged from the same room,” he replied calmly.

As she cocked her head to the side, her hair falling onto her face, time seemed to slow down. Her long eyelashes were stunning, and her deep eyes looked at Azriel with something so unsaid, that the raw intensity sent shivers down his spine.

Azriel knew at that moment that he could no longer leave these unanswered feelings of his left hanging. He wasn't a dumb male; if his body was responding to Y/N like this for so long, there was clearly a reason. And it was not a dumb crush.

He had forced himself to believe for so long, that Elain should belong to him. Three brothers for three sisters, that is what he would tell himself.

Yet something had shifted between them two, a subtle undercurrent that left Azriel reeling. It was something deeper, something undeniable. And as he met Y/N's gaze, he knew that he could no longer ignore the pull that drew him to her, the pull of something real, something worth fighting for.

--

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[cece693]

Velvet Ring Pt. 3 (Hannibal Lecter x M! Reader)

Sorry for the short hiatus, but life comes first :) I have read your comments and delivered part three of Velvet Ring. Many say this should be a full-length novel, so I'm considering going to Ao3 and posting it there. More info to come, but I hope you enjoy it!

link to part one and part two

The months that followed your departure were a slow descent into madness for Hannibal, a feverish chase that consumed him with a depth he hadn’t known was possible. He had no doubt you were alive—he would have felt it otherwise, sensed the hollow ache in his soul if you had truly been lost. Yet, no matter how many leads he pursued, no matter the lengths he went to, you remained elusive, slipping from his grasp like water.

He contacted private investigators, each more skilled than the last, paying them handsome sums for information that ultimately led nowhere. Hannibal monitored hospitals, social service records, border crossings, tracking every lead that might hint at your presence, yet all he found was emptiness. His health took a toll—his once sturdy frame became thin, his skin turning sickly pale due to the lack of sunlight as the man feverously searched through papers. But his nights were the worst of it.

Sleep, once a rare respite, became his most unforgiving tormentor, an unbidden invitation into his memory palace, where every hall and chamber held your presence. In every room, you were there, waiting with that quiet intensity he could never forget, your gaze piercing him with unspoken questions. He would step forward, his hands trembling as he reached out.

"Please," Hannibal whispered, his voice breaking in a way it never did in the waking world. "Please, come back to me." And each time he reached for you, tried to bridge the impossible chasm he had created, he would awaken, gasping and cold, his hand outstretched to empty air, the harsh reality a cruel slap in the face. He knew he would never find peace, not without you. His life, his plans, his ambition—all of it was hollow now, stripped of all meaning.

But then, after months of nothing but anguish and shadows, he heard a whisper—a sighting in a small, secluded town, someone matching your description. It was faint, the kind of rumor easily dismissed as coincidence by anyone else. But Hannibal clung to it with an iron grip, the flicker of hope it rekindled blazing into a fire within him. Without hesitation, he set out, leaving no time to rest, crossing miles with a singular determination to find you.

Hannibal arrived at dusk, the air heavy and cool, exhaustion tugging at his every step, but a fierce anticipation overriding all else. He scanned the cobblestone streets, his gaze sharp and hungry, studying every face. Just as his hope began to waver, there you were—across the street, holding a small bag, engaged in conversation.

Hannibal’s heart seized as his eyes locked onto you, his breath catching at the sight of you after so long. But then, his gaze drifted to the woman beside you, her hand resting lightly on your arm as she leaned in, laughing softly at something you said. Something primal stirred within him, a dark flame fanned by jealousy, possessiveness, and the betrayal he felt as he watched you sharing even a fragment of your life with another.

Without hesitation, he crossed the cobblestone street, his steps unyielding, his gaze fixed intently on you. As he approached, the woman looked up, startled, and her grip on you tightened as she registered the intensity in his eyes. His face remained composed, but there was an edge to his expression, a darkness that radiated in the tight line of his jaw, the way his gaze lingered just a moment too long on her hand resting on your arm.

"M/N,” he said softly, his voice carrying a quiet intensity that was both familiar and unsettling. The way he said it—both a question and an accusation—made you freeze, your eyes widening as they locked onto him. Hannibal took in sick delight at the way you removed the woman's hold on your arm, a unconscious sign that you did something wrong and knew it.

Turning to the woman, Hannibal smiled, cold and unyielding. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said, his tone dripping with a courtesy that felt more like a threat than an introduction. "I'm Hannibal Lecter, and who might you be?"

She cleared her throat, her unease evident. “I'm Anna. Pietro's friend." Her voice was unsteady, unsure of how to respond to the quiet menace in his gaze. Hannibal didn't care that you had created a fake identity, the moniker friend, being of more importance. There was ambiguity in it—a loose, undefined boundary that could mean anything or nothing at all. The lack of clarity fanned the flame of his resentment, and he relished the discomfort that flashed in Anna’s eyes as his stare intensified.

"A friend,” he repeated, his voice soft but edged with subtle derision. His gaze flicked over her with a dispassionate coldness before returning to you. “I wasn’t aware Pietro had developed such… casual acquaintances during his time away.” His tone held a faint sneer, and he continued, turning back to her with a faint smile. “Tell me, Anna, how long have you been acquainted with him?”

Anna’s gaze darted nervously between you and Hannibal, the weight of his intense scrutiny pressing down on her. “Just a few weeks,” she replied, voice faltering slightly under his sharp gaze.

"Wonderful,” Hannibal murmured, his smile tightening, “then I assume he’ll be quick to abandon you in favor of company more suited to his needs. Pietro has a habit of seeking company that doesn’t benefit him—shallow, fleeting connections, if you will.” His words were like barbed silk, each one crafted to cut deeper.

“Hannibal!” you interjected sharply, your tone stern, your eyes flashing with a mix of anger and frustration. You took a step forward, trying to draw his attention away from Anna, who looked close to tears.

Hannibal’s gaze shifted back to you, a faint glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “My apologies,” he said softly, his voice dangerously smooth, “I merely assumed that you’d be accustomed to my honesty by now.”

You clenched your jaw, leveling him with a glare. “Your honesty is cruelty, Hannibal,” you said firmly. “And I don’t appreciate you taking your issues out on someone who has nothing to do with this.” Hannibal seethed, watching as you turned your gaze back unto that pig leaning into her ear, whispering something unintelligible. His hands clenched at his sides, his entire posture radiating a barely restrained fury.

“Anna has nothing to do with this, Hannibal,” you said firmly, once the wretched pig had left. “I won’t stand here and let you humiliate her just because she's been kind during my stay here."

“Humiliate?” Hannibal repeated, his voice cold and dripping with disdain. “The only humiliation here is watching you pretend this… distraction somehow compensates for what you left behind. But if that’s the kind of company you now keep, perhaps I overestimated your standards as well.”

You narrowed your eyes, anger flaring. “That’s enough,” you warned, stepping forward. “I didn’t ask you to come here, and I certainly didn’t ask for your opinions on my choices.”

Hannibal scoffed, a bitter smile twisting his lips. “Your choices?” he echoed, his voice rising, each word dripping with venom. “They weren’t just your choices. They were ours. When you abandoned me without a word, as if what we had was disposable, your choice became mine.”

For a brief moment, his gaze softened, the fury and bitterness fading to reveal something raw, something painfully human. His face transformed, stripped of the cold, unshakable control he had always exuded—even as children, when he had towered over others with a quiet, invincible strength. It was as if a mask had fallen away, and you saw, perhaps for the first time, that beneath his formidable presence, Hannibal was vulnerable and, terrifyingly, capable of being hurt.

Hannibal’s voice softened, a glimmer of both sorrow and fierce determination in his eyes as he gently brushed his thumb along your cheek. “But I forgive you,” he murmured, his words filled with tenderness. “But tell me this: why didn’t you tell me Lady Murasaki and Robert treated you horribly? I would have put an end to their horrid behavior if I’d known.”

The weight of his forgiveness, his readiness to overlook the pain of your absence, only made the guilt settle deeper in your chest. You took a shaky breath, looking down as the words you’d hidden so carefully finally began to spill out. “I thought…I thought I was protecting you,” you said softly, your voice barely more than a whisper. “They’re your family, Hannibal. I didn’t want to be the reason you fought with them. And a part of me was scared. That if you spoke with them, you'll realize that they were right. That I was undeserving of you."

Hannibal’s face darkened, a storm brewing in his eyes as he took in your words, his jaw clenching. He felt a rush of anger swell within him, barely tempered by the knowledge that Robert and Lady Murasaki—those who had dared to make you feel so small, so undeserving—had already been dealt with. Even so, a bitter regret simmered beneath his composure, a twisted satisfaction tainted by the thought that he could have made their ends far more painful, a true testament to the suffering they had inflicted on you.

"That couldn’t be further from the truth, beloved." His hand moved to cup your face, his fingers warm against your skin as he tilted your chin, his gaze softening with an intensity that stole your breath. His voice, quiet yet filled with unwavering conviction, wrapped around you like a protective embrace.

“Don’t you see?” Hannibal continued, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your cheek. “Without you, my life would have been empty, hollow. They convinced you that you were an obstacle, something in the way of greatness, but they couldn’t have been more wrong. You are my anchor, the one who kept me grounded when everything else felt meaningless. My purpose.” His voice grew rough, carrying the weight of all he’d felt, all he’d kept buried.

Hannibal leaned closer, his forehead resting gently against yours, his voice softening. “They saw the depth of what we shared, and it frightened them. They knew I would choose you over anything they could offer, over any legacy or loyalty. And so, they made you believe you were unworthy, hoping to drive us apart.” He shook his head, the faintest hint of sorrow in his eyes. “But they were wrong. I am yours, and without you, I am nothing but a shadow.”

You felt the warmth of his words seeping into you, soothing the ache that their lies had left, dissolving the doubts that had plagued you for so long. His gaze held yours, his hand still cupping your face with a gentleness that belied his intensity. “Promise me,” he murmured, his voice almost pleading, “that you will never doubt your place beside me again. That you won't ever leave my side again.”

Your heart swelled, and with a trembling smile, you nodded, leaning into his touch. “I promise, Hannibal.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips, filled with both relief and the unspoken vow that no one would ever come between you again. “Then we begin anew,” he whispered, brushing his lips softly over your forehead. “Together, as it was always meant to be.”

[bigtedbear]

“ 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 “

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭: 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐲𝐚𝐧! 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐧

content warnings: 18+ NSFW, 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈, general yandere themes, emotional detachment, gay sex, anal sex, anal penetration, mlm, bl, sexual coercion, dubcon to marriage, semi-public sex, choking, hair-pulling, hatefucking, oral sex (reader receiving), male reader, this is a part 2 that might be important information, semi-stockholm sydrome-y, touch-starved/horny reader

Part 1 here: " like lovers do "

Here's the continuation of a fan favorite, "like lovers do", I'm going to leave the actual plot of the fic a secret so you all can enjoy it while you read!! Special thanks to all the people who left comments basically begging me for a part 2 because that's what truly convinced me to write this LMAOOOO if you're looking for anyone to thank for this they are to blame

Fair warning, the content isn't quite as dark as it was before since a lot of people wanted to see the relationship between the reader and Ayato improve, but I also don't enjoy making the reader character complicit in forced relationships so there will still be a fair bit of resistance.

ONE LAST NOTE: i wrote and rewrote this like seven times, if the plot seems disjointed its cause I basically compiled all the different iterations to make the ultimate part 2 kthxbye

Cold.

It was really cold.

Why did Ayato feel so cold?

His eyes opened blearily, blinking rapidly to bat away the exhaustion. The room was dimly lit, like it always was. What should've been his marital bedroom was devoid of a husband, like it usually was in the morning. Ayato couldn't put his finger on it, but something felt wrong. He should've been used to an empty bed and an empty room by now, but the space still felt... desolate. Everything was in place, nothing had moved, the man was even in the same position he usually slept in. Yet despite all this, he felt cold and alone. Why was that?

He went to sit up, to rub the sleep out of his eyes, but instead of maybe a back ache from sitting up all day, he was confronted with an all-consuming pain shooting up his body. Not only that, he noticed when he peeled the covers off of himself he was completely naked.

Well, that explained why he was cold.

But why did he feel abysmally lonely?

His eyes swept over the room, looking for anything out of place, but he wasn't met with anything unusual. That seemed to be a no-go, but perhaps his memories of the previous night would become clearer if he actually got out of bed. Carefully, he swung his legs over the side of his futon, but was met with a strange numbness in his extremities and another wave of searing pain to shoot up his spine.

Things were only getting stranger the more he investigated, but it seemed his questions would be answered all too soon. The very moment his feet made contact with the ground, the brush of fabric startled him. He wondered if one of his blankets had gotten kicked off the bed in the night, but when he looked down to confirm his suspicions, the memories of the previous night stormed his mind like an angry mob.

'Oh.'

His cheeks automatically lit up a cherry red, realizing the 'suspicious fabric' he'd been stepping on was actually his own yukata. Y'know, the one his husband had taken off of him before they... engaged in a night of passion, for lack of a less vulgar term.

Just a few feet away from his clothing were yours, the same kimono he'd tugged off your shoulders, the same sash he'd watched you untie, the same pair of pants you'd left for work in the previous morning, all in a crumpled pile on the floor. He couldn't remember how the clothing specifically got on the floor, having recalled throwing it somewhere on the futon since the both of you were too impatient to properly undress.

The longer he pondered the happenings of the previous night, the more he lost sight of what he had been doing in the first place. Specifically, what he needed to do for the day. After all, the politics of Inazuma stopped for no god, much less any human.

Still, understanding why he felt so lonely didn't help the fact that he still felt lonely. You had been so open and intimate with him the previous night, did you just consider it to be some obligation you had to fulfill if you wanted to keep your family business going? It certainly didn't feel like you were as emotionally distant the night before. Ayato had basked in the glorious sunlight that was your attention, your affections even. You had not only ticked off the consummation box on the marriage contract, you didn't just stop at one round either.

It felt like he was married for once, not just inviting another guest into his home. He might have always worn his ring, caught sight of the matching one you wore when he caught a glimpse of you in the manor, but he had never felt anything close to the adoration and alert focus you'd showered him in the previous night. Even if it hadn't been exactly what he'd imagined for the night, it didn't change the fact that you had been there, in the bed when he'd fallen asleep.

When you'd first gotten married, the part of the day he looked forward to the most was falling asleep in each other's arms. You hadn't given him that satisfaction, but you not only let him hold you after sex, your own arms were cradling him close to your chest like a baby. He'd gotten to use your heart as a lullaby, to feel the burning hot skin on skin contact, the little circles you traced on the small of his back to help him fall asleep; all of it.

He'd hoped--as his eyelids began to grow heavier than lead--that even if exchanging your vows hadn't been the start of your marriage, perhaps yesterday was the true beginning of your relationship.

He knew it was wishful thinking, having sex for the first wouldn't be some kind of switch that flipped inside of you. You wouldn't start loving him just because the two of you had shared one night together, but he'd hoped it might have been the start of things. He'd hoped more than hope itself that maybe you would just barely crack open the gates to the forest containing the forbidden fruit that was your heart.

If he gave you his body on top of his eternal love and devotion, maybe you'd be open to giving him more than the cold shoulder.

He could feel a dismal sense of disappointment settling in his chest, the prospect of giving you all that he had and still not being enough. Maybe if he thought a little harder, he could come up with something to offer you. You had his heart, his body, his entire being, but maybe there was something else he could offer you. He just didn't know what it was yet.

His train of thought was immediately interrupted when the door to the room slid open.

He scrambled to cover himself with the various comforters laying next to him, not bothering to check who was at the door, but then he was met with a melodious chuckle.

His eyes darted to the doorway.

You were in a new yukata, hair completely drenched, and a used towel thrown over your shoulder. He spied your attempt to hide your smile behind the back of your hand. By now, his flush had died down, but the moment he caught sight of you, it returned tenfold. He burst into an electrifying scarlet and completely froze in his tracks like a nervous deer.

You closed the door behind you shortly after, smothering another laugh at his expense. You coughed behind a closed fist, unable to completely wipe the smug grin off your face. "Good morning."

"I-" Ayato tried to swallow some spit down his unbearably dry throat, just now realizing how parched was. "Good morning."

You crossed your arms in front of your chest, "Sorry if I scared you, I woke up feeling less than clean so I decided an early morning bath would be nice." You started walking towards a hamper of dirtied laundry, tossing your towel in before adding, "I didn't want to wake you up, you seemed exhausted yesterday."

"..."

You could only feel yourself smile wider the longer he struggled to answer. His mouth opened and closed like one of those fat koi fish you spied in town a couple weeks ago. The sly Kamisato Ayato was nothing but a flustered mess just from you walking into the room.

You began to notice a trend in what seemed to make you happy these days.

You tilted your head to the side a bit, pretending to look confused as you asked oh-so-innocently, "What?"

He finally seemed to put his thoughts into words when directly questioned. "Weren't you supposed to leave for work earlier?"

You hummed, crossing your arms as you walked towards him. "I moved my work around to a few of the higher ups." Instead of engaging with him further, you bent down and picked up his discarded sleepwear and your clothes from the previous day.

"Oh, and relax, I took care of your work for the day. I didn't exactly think it'd be proper for the head of the Yashiro Commission to be stumbling around like a newborn fawn in public."

"Please?"

You hummed, lazily tracing circles on his lower back with one hand, the other holding your book open. "I'm only taking care of you for the day, you don't need me here tonight."

You had been suspiciously good to him, willing to do just about anything he asked if he persuaded you enough. As of now, he'd managed to convince you to let him cuddle up to your side while you did your own relaxing. One of his hands lay on your chest next to his face while the other was squeezed beneath him on the futon, balled up in a fist next to his heart.

So, so sweet, you had been to him. So tender and caring and lenient; it made him feel suspicious but he had thought himself to be too cynical. Instead of being ready to be burned, he wanted to fully be able to embrace this beautiful warmth in its entirety.

Still, he knew there would be some kind of caveat.

Everything you did, everything you said, everything you let him do, it was only for today. He knew it from the start, when you'd told him upfront you were willing to support him while he was recovering from your rendezvous in the sheets the previous night. He had you wrapped around his finger, but only for the day.

He traced his finger over the hemline on your top, gingerly ghosting over it. While you were still scanning over the words in the book, it brought him some satisfaction that you were still listening to what he said. "Surely, I won't have to beg you to stay in bed tonight." There was a bashful smile on his features as he poked, "What if I need something in the night? You've been doting on me all day, but my legs are still numb."

You rolled your eyes, flipping to the next page of your book. "You are the head of the Yashiro Commission, you are not delicate or fragile. We have plenty of attendants, should you need anything you're strong enough to leave the bed and call for their assistance."

He made sure to exaggerate his expression as he pouted, stopping the movement of his free hand. "I may be the head of the Commission, but that doesn't mean I'm indestructible. Perhaps I want to be taken care of for once." He closed his eyes and huffed as he pushed his head further into your chest, "I don't sleep well at night when you aren't next to me. I need the rest if I am to make a full recovery come tomorrow."

"You're more than welcome to get your 'restful sleep' now, there is nothing stopping you." You continued to scan over the kanji sprawled across the page in front of you. Your hand stopped tracing its own circles on his back, opting to rest comfortably against the curve of his spine.

He sighed, dramatically. Even though he acted annoyed, he couldn't deny the pacifying qualities of your touch and your attention. It would be stripped from him at the end of the day he glumly realized, but being unable to have your focus on him unequivocally for the past few months truly weighed on him.

He wanted your eyes to only look at him. He wanted your arms around him every night, every single day. He wanted to be able to indulge himself in your company after work like a glutton. Every single ounce of your remaining time would be spent with him in his own little ideal fantasy world, but with every rejection he could feel his already broken heart crack and shatter just a little bit more.

Would it kill you to share a bed with him? Kill you to be willing to sit in the same room? To eat dinner together? Maybe sit down and discuss both of your work days? If you couldn't love him, could you at the very least pretend? Perhaps that was why he couldn't be mad at you for only loving him conditionally.

He couldn't convince you to love him at all otherwise.

He sat up from where he was leaning on you, pressing his hands down on one of your thighs, "What must I do to convince you, darling? Is there really nothing? I've enjoyed spending the day with you so much I fear I won't be able to take it if you withdraw so suddenly."

You raised a brow skeptically, still not taking your eyes off of your page. He playfully smacked you on the arm, trying to draw your attention away from your silly book. "No, Ayato, I've already told you there is no reason for me to sleep here tonight. You have everything you could possibly need-"

"But what if I need you here?" He urged, wrapping his hand around your bicep. He tugged, scrunching up his fist along with the fabric. "Your husband is a very greedy man, you agreed to take care of me today."

You still didn't divert your attention from the light novel in your hand, flipping to another page. "Just because you are greedy doesn't mean I'll spoil you to death. I agreed to take care of you during the day, I didn't say anything about tonight."

He whined your name, moving to straddle your hips. He put his hand over your book and pushed it to the side. His hands gripped the collar of your yukata, forcing you to look at him, focus on him without any distractions. The divine pink that surged up from your neck sent a pleasant satisfaction pooling in the bottom of his gut. "Could you just consider it a part of your obligation to me today? How can your heart stand to see your precious husband begging you to come to bed and still be so cruel-hearted?"

In any other circumstance, you'd likely shove him off, but in this scenario you let his hands wrinkle the fabric of your collar. Your hands rested tentatively on his waist, averting eye contact. "Only you seem to be calling yourself precious here, Lord Kamisato."

He gasped, putting an offended hand over his heart, "How could you still say such hurtful things to me?" He threw his other hand over his forehead, closing his eyes as he slumped away from you sadly. "You should be groveling and begging for my forgiveness, dearest."

You rolled your eyes, pressing a kiss to his exposed temple, "There, does that make up for it?"

He turned back to face you, rested his hands on your chest again. He seemed to contemplate for a moment, before resting his face in the crook of your neck. "Partially, I do believe you know what truly would make it up to me."

You huffed, "I'm afraid I will have to leave this injustice unresolved." You picked up your book from where he'd shoved it out of your hands.

Promptly, his hand rested on top of yours. His face withdrew from where it had comfortably rested, "If you aren't going to be here tonight, could you at the very least pay attention to me?"

You seemed to consider wrestling your page-turner from him, to turn him down again. But instead, you let a deep breath pass your lips before setting the hardcover on the nightstand and opening your arms. You were basically offering yourself up to him.

He let himself fall into your embrace, a happy purr passing his lips as he slumped against your chest. He let himself be babied as you wrapped your arms over his shoulders and pulled him into your chest and rested your chin on top of the crown of his head.

If he only had today, he would wring as much love from you as he could.

"What are you doing here?"

The Yashiro Commissioner hummed as he took a pointed seat across from you in front of your desk. "Will you be this suspicious of me for the rest of our lives? Is it really all that strange that I want to make a routine out of coming to visit you at work?"

You flipped to the next page of one of the various packets of documents on your desk, "I believe the question you should be asking is whether or not you will always want something from me when you make a visit." Your middle finger carefully scanned over the line of said document before carefully filling out a beautifully calculative signature.

"Oh hush," Ayato gently rested his forearms across the table, face in his palm, "I finally decide to trouble myself with the trip to your workplace and the only thing I get is a sour attitude. Whatever will I do?"

Despite the sincere nature of the words that would flow from your mouth, your dreadfully flat tone betrayed any potential endearment. "How treacherous, for such a doting lover to be so unappreciated."

He smiled, despite all your mockery, always able to find a way to twist each and every little action of yours in his mind. "Precisely, I do believe that you should make it up to me, darling."

You rolled your eyes, "It seems every time I fail to greet you as if we have been starcrossed lovers separated by the cruel writings of fate and time, you believe I have inexplicably wronged you, Ayato."

His hands came to rest on his heart, the sweet jingle of the metals on his attire creating the auditory illusion of the similarly sweet chime of bells. "Because you have!" One of his hands reached forward to rest on your table, "Each and every morning I wake and we are apart, my heart shatters into an insurmountable pile of pieces. Every moment we are apart, my very soul longs to be by your side-"

You waved him off with your non-dominant hand, "Yes, Ayato, you have made all of this clear to me since the moment we were wed. What is it that you want from me? I'm afraid I don't have as much time to entertain you today."

"How cruel," he pouted, "I only wished to invite you out for lunch today."

You raised your brow, still not taking your eyes off your current page. Carefully, you set one packet of paperwork off to the side before setting your sights on another. "What exactly do you 'wish' to get out of lunch?"

There was a saccharine chortle that resounded through the air, "Your company, dearest. I've missed you so." He absentmindedly checked for a clock somewhere around the room, "I do believe I got the time correct, you usually send for your own meal around this hour, don't you?"

You paused, setting down your brush finally. "I suppose I do."

His eyes glistened expectantly, pressing both of his palms firmly on the table. The same cunning smile you used to find so beautiful seemed to only churn a mixed cauldron of negative emotions within the bottom of your ribcage.

"..."

"..."

You sighed, "As much as I would love to join you, I'm afraid your argument falls apart when one realizes I usually work through my lunch. I can't exactly afford to fall behind."

He groaned, his hands shooting forward to grasp at your own. He seemed to completely ignore the fact that you flinched backwards at his touch. Instead, his gloved hands swallowed up your own palms in his, expression desperate as he hunched over your desk. Your eyes weren't very focused on his face when you noticed just how close his pure white sleeve was to a nearly full inkwell. "You work far too much for someone with so many subordinates who are perfectly capable of doing the same job. Surely, you can spare me just an hour? An hour, no more, I swear to you."

You bit the inside of your cheek, averting your gaze from his. "I work because I want things done correctly, I know I can trust myself to complete such matters within the given time frame. As trusted as my employees may be, in the middle of a project as large as-"

He huffed, pressing a kiss to back of your hand, "You're always beginning and ending projects back-to-back, if you don't give your workers any opportunities to prove themselves, will you simply continue to work yourself to death? You don't have a much better chance than this. Give me this one hour, give yourself this one hour, love. Just this once?"

"Ayato-" you tried to warn, however, you were interrupted by this all powerful primal sense of dread as he stood up from his seat across your desk. He circled around you like a hawk before coming to sit by your side instead. One of his hands trailed to your thigh, resting there, innocently malicious. You called his name again, reprimanding intonation, but he seemed to pay no mind.

He rested his head at the junction connecting your collarbone to your neck, just gently ghosting his lips over the skin that remained exposed above your collar. Self-pity washed over you like a flood, accompanied with an embarrassed heat flooding across your face. "This is highly inappropriate at my place of work-"

"Then let's take it out of your place of work." He whispered it tenderly against your neck, nestled right between gentle samplings of your skin. "We can always just go out for lunch too, either way, the decision is yours, darling."

You chewed your bottom lip reluctantly. It seemed, however, Ayato didn't seem to be feeling all that merciful or patient.

He bit down just beneath what would've been visible on your collar.

"Okay, okay- We can go out to lunch, give me some time to arrange for some work to be evenly redistributed." You scowled at his more than satisfied grin, pushing his face away from you, "You are such a headache."

"Yours," he hummed, all but delighted at the outcome of your conversation. He could care less about being unceremoniously being forced to get his grubby little hands off you, instead all but celebrating in his mind as he stood up and dusted himself off.

Yes, you mentally lamented, unfortunately, he was your headache.

'Would you be interested in walking me home?'

"H-Oh shiiiitttt-"

"You're much too loud, if you can't keep it down, I'll leave you here by yourself."

Chinju Forest was quiet and undisturbed a majority of the time, something that appealed to you in your younger years. You enjoyed being invited to the Kamisato Estate as a child just so you could come and sit in the tranquility of the silent trees and the whispering brook.

Pluck off your sandals, toss your socks into the grass and let the tips of your toes gently ease their way into the moving stream. You and the other young heir would come here during your fathers' meetings. Unlike you, when the two of you made your way into the forest, he enjoyed running around.

He liked to skip stones, to hunt for Crawfish underneath the large boulders, run after fireflies in the darkness created by the canopy of trees. While you rested and allowed yourself to turn off your brain, Ayato took hold of his opportunity to be a child. Despite his rather prim and proper nature as an adult, he enjoyed chasing you around with angry cicadas when he was young.

While your sword had seen the punishing end of the hilt in your older teenage years, you hated the idea of filth when you were a child. He enjoyed your screams of terror and the way you'd retreat into the creek, barefoot when he'd come to the water's edge with a screaming bug.

He was your tormentor up until your late twenties, it seemed. Now, you enjoyed tormenting him. To make him uncomfortable, that was your purpose, your passion.

Which is exactly why your pace, like always, was punishing. The grass was soft against his back, but it seemed with each connection of your hips with his you were intent on driving him into the hard ground. He should have felt humiliated, to be defiled against the soil, but he couldn't help the pleasant pulse of ecstasy freely pumping through his body.

His right hand gripped your shoulder in a bruising grasp, fingers coiling around your collarbone. His nails dug into your skin, sure to leave angry little crescent marks in their wake. His left hand was clamped over his mouth, in an attempt to be quieter.

His eyes were squeezed shut, eyebrows curled upwards towards the inner corners of his eyes. Had this been any other time, he would've been alert and at full attention. Drinking in the sight of the man of his dreams looming over him, sweaty and laser-focused on every single arch of his back and every roll of his hips. However, in the middle of the woods, with only the curtain of shadows casted by the tree tops, he couldn't seem to muster up the strength to pull open his eyelids.

What with the churning shame in the bottom of his gut and the surging tendrils of overstimulation coiling through the insides of his you were currently rearranging, he couldn't do it. With the vice grip on his hips and the piercing stare you were aiming at him, it seemed impossible.

"Tell me-" you hissed in between harsh jabs of your hips, "could you really have not waited for me to get home? Was the sole purpose of your trip to my office to lure me into your bed again?"

As much as he might've wanted to answer, Ayato could only answer in pitiful whimpers and whine into the palm of his glove. Each and every single one of them being punctuated with another angry shove of your dick further inside of him.

His eyelids darted open when your attention seemed to shift to the fabric of the glove he was currently biting. Your fingers curled around his wrist and pinned it to the grass next to his head, "Hey-" your hips halted for just a few seconds before moving agonizingly slowly. Just barely enough movement to keep fanning the flames of overwhelming want in his gut, just barely enough to be prodding at his prostate, but slowly enough he was painfully aware of the twitch of his own erection against his stomach. "I asked you a question."

He nodded blearily, shaking his head as quickly as the friction against the nape of his neck would. He tried to let a few words stumble from his swollen lips, but he could only blubber pathetically and push his perineum closer to you in response.

You pulled him to be flush against your pelvis, looming over him with a tilt of your head. "Words, Ayato, use your words."

"Yes- Archons yes- please just keep moving-" he begged.

He mewled with another quick roll of your hips into his, left hand clenching and unclenching around nothing next to his head. "Really? What did I ask you? Did you hear me or are you too much of a slut to think about anything but how to get me to touch you again?"

"I'm a slut-" his back arched up dramatically as your hand smeared the lines of white that painted his exposed stomach against his skin, "I'm yOur whore- hnnn~"

He tried to squeeze his thighs together as another teasing wave of pleasure surged past his senses, another hiccup falling past his teeth. He tried to pull you impossibly closer with his legs, but found the traitorous tremor in his muscles prevented him from exerting any real strength.

"Did you touch yourself during work? Was that really all that was on your mind while you sorted through your papers?" Your hand teased his dick, languid strokes up and down as you watched him seize up in a beautiful curve.

His mouth fell open as another string of curses slid out of his throat like a waterfall. You also couldn't help the grunt that resounded through the air past your own closed lips when he got impossibly tighter around you. You pulled his hair to get him to look at you, "Answer me."

He nodded again, "Yes, yes, yesyesyesyes-" He keened, trying to push himself further into the gentle caress of your hand. "I coUldn't stohoopp thinking about youU-"

You hummed, "So you fingered yourself open over your desk? You didn't excuse yourself to your room or anything? No breaks? Just how long did you sit there touching yourself before my lunch break?"

He shook his head, tears pricking the corners of his eyes as he tried to shy away from your prying leer. "I don't know- ouH~"

"Was it really that long?" You continued to stroke his painfully red dick through another orgasm. "Give me an estimate."

He trembled, only really trying to pull himself together as you started getting slower with your movements. "I-I-" He swallowed, "M-maybe an hour? Ahn~ I don't knohowww-"

He practically choked on his thoughts when you sped up again, pleas falling past his lips like a prayer as he arched up into another release.

You'd been nice enough to take care of him again after your escapade in the woods.

You took him home, explained he'd 'fallen ill' on the way home, and informed the staff (Thoma) you'd be back in around an hour to take care of him after sorting out work affairs.

Just like before, you let him gently wrap you around his nimble finger. Each and every little request was met as long as his words were sweet enough, as long as he played each and every one of his little cards right. As long as he looked pitiful enough, you would let him cuddle up in your lap. If he complained enough, he could convince you to give him a massage.

Sweetly, he would call your name and you'd be at his side. Patiently, you'd brush the hair off of his face and make sure he was comfortable. If he so wished it, you would let him join you in your office while you worked. Of course, while you could hand off your work to others in your company, Inazuma, the Commissions, and politics didn't stop just because he needed the day off.

Instead of getting one of his many retainers to do his work for him, you took it upon yourself to sit yourself down at his desk and take care of it yourself. A husband should be able to understand and complete his partner's job, you told him when he teased you for it. So, despite never having dipped your proverbial toe into the world of politics, you took on the mantle without hesitation.

Paper after paper, meeting after meeting. Later in the day, you even bothered yourself with hand-delivering a few signed notices and making appearances in spots he was supposed to be. It was only understandable you would return home exhausted after that. Still, in your tired daze, you insisted that you would sleep in your office once again.

"If not for me, than for yourself, darling." He pleaded, perched at the edge of the futon in his Yukata. He watched you wander around the room tucking away paper after paper and muttering to yourself. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you were to sleep on the ground tonight. You've just about worked your fingers to the bone so I could take the rest of the day off."

You waved him off with a hand, eyes still scanning over a booklet of etiquette that came with a Tricommission meeting. Seeing as the Yashiro Commission mainly served as a cultural regulator and mediator between the two commissions, the tasks of the acting representative during the meeting were relatively simple. In theory, it wouldn't be difficult to allow Ayato another day of rest. All you would need to do would be to resolve any conflicts should they-

"Would it ease your mind if I slept elsewhere tonight?"

You only really snapped out of it when you felt his arms rest themselves delicately around your hips.

"I-" You cleared your throat, "No, there's no need. I can manage just fine with you here."

You felt him sigh against your back, resting his face against your shoulder blade. "So you'll stay here tonight? I'm glad."

You paused, "That... isn't what I meant." You gently pried his arms off of the curves of your waist, snapping the booklet you'd been cradling shut. "I'm a grown man. A sore back isn't a concern I've made a priority for a long time. You can sleep here, I will be fine in my office."

He pressed himself into your back, if not only insisting with his words, than also with his actions. "I don't care if you'll be fine in your office, I care what is best for you. You've worked all day, it's nearly midnight. The futon will comfort your physical ailment if not your mental strain. I can sleep in my own office tonight for a change."

You shook your head, sliding the booklet into one of the many shelves that adorned your walls. "Absolutely not. You will sleep in bed tonight as you always have, I only worked this hard so you could recover your strength. Sleeping on the ground would only-"

He huffed, "If you don't want to sleep in the same room as me, I'll be sleeping in my office. You can't seriously think you'll be able to stop me. If you want me to sleep in bed, you will sleep in the bed with me."

You shook your head, "That-"

You flinched as he pushed you up against the wall, inhaling deeply as he rested his face in the crook of your neck. What made the position all the more embarrassing was your inability to gauge his expression. "Please?"

You sighed, "Don't make this difficult. Sleep in bed, sleeping in my office isn't a bother to me-"

He called your name again, exasperated. "Do I have to sweeten the deal for you in some way? What do I have to do for you to take my offer seriously?" He wrapped you up in his arms again, this time snuggly situating himself around your torso. "I'm tired of only catching glimpses of your grumpy face when you leave in the morning because of the lackluster sleep you managed to get. Just for tonight, I promise. If you don't believe me on anything else, just for tonight I'm asking you to sleep on the futon sincerely out of concern for your wellbeing and not my own selfish desires."

"Ayato-"

He gave your torso a squeeze. In fact, he let you unravel his arms from your figure without any of the usual fuss. "What do you say?"

You shook your head, turning to face him with an annoyed expression, "Go to bed like you do every night, I don't know how many times I need to keep telling you-"

He silenced your complaints with his lips.

He wrenched his arms from your grip on them, going to trail them up and down your sides. You exploded in surprised shudders, unwittingly complicit in his little act of intimacy. Soon enough, he was sinking down on his knees, pressing his lips to your clothed body at random intervals on his way down.

"What are you doing?"

His breathing got heavier as he descended, fingers settling at your waistband. "You only finished once earlier, didn't you?" With a flick of his wrist, he exposed your flaccid dick to the cold air of your bedroom. He gave an experimental lick up the side from base to tip, listening to the sharp inhalation of air through your teeth. He could feel it getting hard under his tongue with a few more kitten licks to the tip.

"If you aren't tired enough to stay in bed as is, I'm sure I could tire you out some more."

Ayato gave a sleepy sigh as he sunk into your chest.

Today, it seemed, you two still had enough energy for some clean-up post-coitus.

You admonished him gently. "Hold still, you'll end up getting soap in your eye." Your hands gently combed through his hair and did your best to swipe the foamy bubbles off of his forehead. You did your best to scrub the sweat off his scalp while still remaining tender.

He curled up against you despite all the space that was left in your rather luxurious bathtub. His legs tangled with yours in your seat, tracing hearts over where yours was hidden beneath your skin. You grabbed the wooden bowl from beside the tub, filling it with water before pouring it over Ayato's head gently.

The suds ran down his back and into the rest of the tub. He rubbed what little soap remained around his eyes before looking up at you. Something similar to a cat purring emanated from his chest, eyes filled with a soft fondness you couldn't stomach head-on.

It would've been nice if he hadn't forced the ring on your finger half a year ago. It would've been sweet, it would've been mind-numbingly heartwarming. But as it stood, you couldn't seem to meet such a gaze without a deep resentment bubbling up in your chest. Even if you might've wanted to fall in love for the sake of your own sanity in the long run, could you really ever learn to love someone like him?

As if reading your mind, he interrupted your thoughts by reaching up to grab the bottle of shampoo himself. "Do you want me to wash your hair too?"

Still, despite knowing he would never do anything to hurt you, to so much as go out of his way to upset you, you could've let yourself to let your guard down to him in the slightest. "No, I can do it myself."

Ayato snickered, "Well, I know you can, but do you want to have your hair washed?" His laughter was soft and domestic sounding, something that should've squeezed your heart gently. Yet, the squeeze felt more like an impromptu strangling. Something hurt when he laughed so mercifully. Something felt extremely wrong when he laughed without so much as a care.

Did he care about you?

Did he have the capacity to care about anyone but himself?

Did he truly love you, or did he love the idea of the two of you together?

He waved a hand in front of your face, calling your name quizzically. "Did you hear me? Do you want me to wash your hair or would you rather just rinse it tonight?" He shook his head, the water droplets that clung to his exposed skin glistening in the low lamplight. "Nevermind, just go ahead and turn around, let me take care of it."

You shook your head. "I can do it myself, you should relax."

He clicked his tongue, "Let me do this one thing for you. You always seem to take care of me and never let me do the same for you. Do you honestly think so poorly of me? There isn't any poison in it."

'Yes', you thought breathlessly, more like admitted it to yourself. 'You did think that badly of him.'

You already told yourself earlier, reassured yourself, he wouldn't so much as hurt a hair on your head if not for your own wellbeing than his twisted ideal of this relationship. You wondered if someday, if you didn't play into this little role he'd assigned you in his head, would he ever grow bored of you?

Would he no longer be interested in playing happy little family with you?

Would he toss you to the side like all the other lives he seemed to treat like objects to creep further towards his goals?

What did it mean exactly to be one of his goals? You didn't know.

The fact that you didn't know scared you.

It scared you more than anything.

Perhaps that was the true reason you wouldn't ever let him care for you. You didn't know what his definition of care was.

"Please?" he pleaded again. He always loved to drop in that magic word whenever you were feeling more open to spending time with him. "You just used the shampoo on me, you usually use it yourself, it couldn't hurt just this once, could it?"

"Fine, but don't draw it out. I want to go to bed soon."

You watched the smile grow on his features as he gripped at the sides of your face. He peppered kisses all over, gracious thanks leaving his lips every moment they weren't attached to your face. You silently let him continue to shower you in his affections.

Finally, when he seemed to be done with kissing you wherever he could plant his mouth, you let yourself sink more into the bathtub. You leveled yourself out to where he could get to your locks.

You leaned against him, though he was quick to admonish you for being as stiff as a board. "Relax, I'm not going to do anything but wash your hair, love. You worry too much."

He planted another kiss to the wet skin of your nape before dumping a generous amount of shampoo into his waiting palm. He rubbed his hands together to gather up the suds before his hands descended upon your waiting scalp with a calculated gentleness.

He seemed to pay special attention to each and every hair on your head. The obvious devotion made you feel like you were squirming in your own skin.

Carefully, he brushed the hair away from your face, lathering each and every lock thoroughly. It seemed as though he was looking for every excuse he could to touch you.

"That's enough, my hair is more than clean by now."

He went to complain, but held his tongue. It seemed he realized just as quickly as you did that you were being far too lenient with him. But it was difficult to stop him at the same time. Usually, you were good at maintaining your boundaries and making sure he knew you weren't going to fall victim to this ludacris script he'd orchestrated in the recesses of his twisted mind.

But throughout the course of the night, there seemed to be one thought that scared you more than what Ayato's definition of care was.

What would he do to you when he stopped caring altogether?

there's a note on the side of the phone booth, read it?

" hey guys, kicks rocks "

THIS IS A REPOSTED WORK FROM MY ORIGINAL ACCOUNT BEFORE IT CRAPPED AND DIED ON ME

I USED TO BE FOUND AT @steadybear

I FEAR YOU WILL HAVE TO DEAL WITH SEEING @bigtedbear INSTEAD FROM NOW ON

[muzansfangs]

Hiii! I hope ur still accepting requests. Recently, an idea has stuck in my head. What about taking bath with Aizen and his s/o? I hope you will accept it!

Cleanse my soul.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to Shinji Hirako, Kisuke Urahara, Kensei Muguruma, Rojuro Otoribashi, Lisa Yadomaru, Hiyori Sarugaki;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, cock-warming, vaginal sex, creampie, fear play, smoking, clit-edging, jealousy, nudity, Lieutenant Aizen, morally grey reader, mention to attempted murder, violence, gore, blood, talks about the future, betrayal, trust issues, turn back the pendolum arc, established relationship;

Plot: He was back, knocking on your door in the dead of the night. His Lieutenant badge had been damaged, the gleam in his chestnut eyes telling you he had succeeded in accomplishing his plan. He always seeked your company, after long days of work and unspeakable crimes committed to chase his dream of becoming a God. You were the only thing he would have never given up to on his climb to the Heaven.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

Reading by the window to distract yourself, you had watched in agitation the way your Captain had left the barracks to investigate on the sudden disappearence of Kensei Muguruma and and some members of his squad. Your stomach churned, apprehension leaving space to the mournful feeling of being forced to accept a brutal reality no one else in your Division was prepared for: at the end of the night, you were either going to say goodbye to Hirako Shinji, your Captain, or to Sosuke Aizen, his Lieutenant, your boyfriend.

No one else knew what was really happening, besides you, Kaname Tosen and Gin Ichimaru, the young prodigy Sosuke seemed to be so enthusiastic about. The secrets you harbored behind your soft smile, when you conversed with your friends, as if you had not just witnessed to some poor inhabitants of the Rukongai vanishing before you wary eyes, when you lied for him, when you cradled his face in your hands and reassured him everything was going to be okay, when he silently pleaded you to cleanse his soul by fucking you up against a wall and telling you the world was soon going to acclaim you their queen, were slowly consuming you up from the inside like acid sizzling the delicate walls of your stomach.

Despite that, you had chosen him above anything and anyone else. You were the priest absolving him from the sins he kept on staining his soul with for the sake of his ideals. The real question was: who cleansed your soul?

You often queried whether his efforts to keep your hands clean were actually successful. You were not innocent. You were guilty as well. You had just betrayed the Soul Society and your friends. Your idle tongue was as sharp as Sosuke’s blade. You wondered how many of your friends had already fallen by your boyfriend’s hand. A massacre was taking place outside and there you were, safe in your dorm and hoping Kisuke Urahara was not going to disrupt your lover’s plans.

Someone knocking on your door made you flinch, back straightening as a ramrod as you settled your book down on the ebony desk, careful not to make a sound. What if Sosuke had failed? Maybe he had sold you off too, after being arrested. The mere thought of your beloved boyfriend throwing you to the wolves made chills run down your spine and your mouth turn to chalk. Would Sosuke really do such a thing to you? You wondered, once again, if he loved you as much as you did.

You mentally rebuked yourself for assuming the worst. Sosuke loved you. Why were you doubting his feelings for you? Probably, you were just projecting onto your relationship the ominous feelings, swallowing you in a whirlwind of fear and anxiety, that you experienced when you watched him work cold-heartedly, sacrificing souls, to the chilling phenomen known as Hollowfication.

Your hand reached for your zanpakuto, your bare feet sliding onto the wooden floor without making a sound, just like he had taught you throughout the years you had spent together. You took a sharp intake of breath, tightening your grip on the hilt of your katana until your knuckles turned white. The visitor was masterly suppressing their reiatsu, making it impossible to detect their presence and identify who they were. You knew what you had to do, in case Sosuke’s failed and the guards went after you. Killing comrades, however, was entirely different from massacring Hollows. You were a shinigami, not an assassin. If the person knocking on your door was not your boyfriend, your blade was going to drip viscous, crimson blood of a shinigami.

Hiding your katana behind your back, you slided the door open, ready to become a full-fledged traitress. The lean frame occupying the threshold made you discard the blade onto the floor instinctively, the sound of the weapon clattering against the parquet echoing in the silent night, as your hands clutched the fabric of Sosuke’s shihakushō and pulled him inside. He had come back safe and sound.

It only meant one thing: the Fifth Division had lost its Captain.

You relished the bittersweet taste of happiness achieved through betrayal, when you smashed your lips onto his, hand scrambling to your side to slide the door shut. Yet, you had learnt to be selfish, you had grown familiar with the sensation of enjoying moments of peace and unbridled excitement, when other people were in pain. Sosuke held you close to his chest, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you back with equal fervor. His hair were disheveled, the badge indicating his status of Lieutenant was gone, the black fabric of his uniform torn in some parts, dirt dusted his clothes and visage.

“Are you hurt?” you dared murmuring against his lips, ignoring the way he was already trying to disrobe you.

“Unscathed. — he shortly informed you — But I could use a bath” he added, mouth voraciously assaulting the crook of your neck, whilst you were attempting to make a small conversation to know details about his victory.

However, right now, when you were in his arms and his teeth were nipping at your tender flesh, Sosuke did not seem to give a iota about further explanations. He had won. He had promised to come back to you and there he was, pushing you towards the bathroom, heedless of the corners biting onto your sides as he forced you to stumble backwards to reach the destination he had chosen for you two to spend the rest of the night at.

You winced pathetically against his lips, the chilly, wintry air blowing through the small, wide-open window of your bathroom leaving goosebumps on your now naked shoulderblades. The rustle of your clothes landing onto the floorboard accompanied you to the edge of the bath, as he finally let go of you and began to undress himself before your glossy, dreamy eyes.

No matter how many times you had traced the outlines of his abs with your lips, or fingertips, every single time his body was bared for you to contemplate you lost any cognitive capacity of thinking straight. Sosuke had always got you in a chokehold from the day you first met at the Academy.

He was that kind of man who outfoxed everyone around him, the sweet-natured guy with glasses no one would have ever accused of committing bloodcurdling felonies. Sosuke Aizen was far from being an ordinary man, some stranger easy to forget about. He had captivated you effortlessly in the palms of his hands, like a clueless butterfly delicately landing on the fruity, multicolored petals of a carnivorous plant only to be devoured to the bone. You had become one with him.

You realized you had been fantasizing about him again only when his hand reached for you chin, forcing you to crane up your neck and meet his gaze. His glasses were gone, his beautiful chestnut brown eyes boring into yours in anticipation as he brushed his thumb over your cheek “Focus on me” he commanded, his words no longer sugar-coated, the typical honeyed tone slipping out of his mouth when he talked to you absent.

His ravenous side strived to take over, evidently. He desired you like a helpless shipwrecked person hoped to find water in a deserted island, adrift amidst the salty water of the Ocean.

Seldomly you had recognized the diabolic gleam in his eyes outside the safe walls of your dorms. His lust, his thirst for power, his greed and ambitions were never showcased in his ever so kind eyes, the same pretty eyes bewitching you right now. Sosuke was the incarnation of the infamous wolf in sheep’s clothing. He had people bamboozled, unable to see him as nothing less than a noble, proficient and polite man minding his business and even reprimanding his Captain for the sake of his Division.

A man with leardship, but uncapable of doing any harm.

Perhaps, it was because you knew him so intimately that his demons had grown familiar with yours that you often asked yourself if you were a mere pawn in his hands, a pretty diamond pin to wear in order to fool people about his real intentions. You hesitated, a small frown creasing your forehead as you watched Sosuke impassibly stare at you in confusion.

“Tell me something, Sosuke. — you started, miraculously modulating your voice in a firm but soft tone — Are you going to abandon me, once the world will be in your hands?”.

His eyes clouded over for a moment, your stomach churning in apprehension. What if you had ruined it all? You impudent mouth, your lips quivering in fright, your heart pumping fast in your chest had revealed you were scared of losing him, or to be fair, of him.

Sosuke’s jaw clenched, his other hand gripping your hip to push you back towards the cool edge of the tub, the still warm water sparkling under the moonlight dimly enlightening the room “When the world will be nothing but a possession of mine, I will give it to you” he stated, making your stomach somersault.

Regrets for having even asked him such a silly question gnawed at your stomach, guilty conscience weighing on your shoulders like a heavy read. You blinked a few times in a row, watching as your boyfriend sidestepped you to climb into the tub. The sound of the water splashing onto the floor, overflowing from the edge, filled the air. Sosuke leaned his back against the bath, arms comfortably positioned on each side of it, penetrative gaze commanding you to join him.

Resisting was impossible. Entering the water, you snuggled into his chest, your back adhering to his firm abs as your neck reclined. Your hair tickled his chin, his jawline, his eyes closing to finally relax. He would have never admitted it, but you could tell he was exhausted. Even Kings needed to slack off, to ignore their duties and enjoy the small moments of bliss their life granted them.

“I need you to believe in me” he spoke out then, velvet voice playing the chords of your heart, as you swallowed thickly.

“I believe in you”.

“Then don’t doubt my love for you. Never” he asked of you tiredly, his arms now leisurely encircling your waist to bring your body closer to his, skin to skin, his mouth gliding down the curve of your neck.

You hummed, thighs parting, when his hand slipped further down your body, disappearing underneath the translucent water “I’m sorry. But this is all so scary, Sosuke. I was afraid—”.

“Afraid of what? That you mattered less than glory and honorifics?”.

You squeezed your eyes shut, his deft fingers parting your dewy folds as if they were a syrupy fig for him to feast on, the scene reminding you of a depraved bucolic lyric about a Greek, Attic shepherd corrupting a modest nymph by a river. A blasphemy you were condoning sheepishly.

The moans you let out were not the answers he was trying to coax you to pronounce “Answer me” he pressed.

“N-No!” you stammered, hips rocking as he plunged a finger into your tight hole, causing him to pull it out and gently pinching on your clit. While the action obviously did not hurt you, it sent waves of electricity running through your body. You jolted onto your seat, toes curling as you lolled your head back onto his shoulder.

Sosuke’s teeth nibbled onto your earlobe, before he hushed you “Hush, love. Can you just recall what I have taught you? Provide me a good argumentation and I won’t prolong this torture further” he whispered, his brown eyes shifting to a small cabinet at his right, making his blood boil in his veins.

Why did you still keep such an object in your house?

Were you maybe going behind his back? Were you actually siding with that frowsy scientist he had taken care of nearly an hour ago? Kisuke Urahara would have not been a problem anymore, whatever was the reason behind your injudicious decision of discarding that water-pipe in such a place for his eyes to see. A small test of your loyalty would have sufficed to prove how deeply you cared for him, to understand whether your devotion was pure and solely on him, or not.

Hazy, you clasped your hand over your mouth to muffle out another whimper threatening to erupt from your throat. Rationality left your body, when he touched you. How were you supposed to force your brain to properly function, when Sosuke was flicking your throbbing clitoris torturously between his thumb and index? Despite that, you knew damn well the only solution to your problem was doing exactly what he had said.

Tears prickling in your expressive eyes, you pushed your knees together, only for Sosuke to chide you and run his fingers through your drenched hair. His nails scraped your scalp ever so lightly, but it was enough to stop your futile struggle.

“You have such a pretty mouth, darling. Let me hear your voice, hm?” he mumbled, one of his arms sliding around your abdomen and pulling you flush against him while the other pinched your clitoris again.

You squealed out in overstimulation, your body too sensitive to endure more of this edging. It was his usual wicked game of power and self-control. Sosuke was in command, yet he made sure you always had your chance to make his ministrations cease. All you had to do was playing your part, like a pretty ballerina moving under his instructions. A false step and you sprained your ankle.

You huffed, cheeks heating up in embarrassment and shame for your total lack of backbone, when it came done to him “A Goddess shall never be afraid” you blurted out, sinking further into the water as a satisfied hum resonated from behind you.

True to his words, he stopped playing with your pearl, fingers merely delving into your pussy instead. Scissoring them gently into your warm cavern, Sosuke pressed his lips against your nape, eyes darkening in lust and a something shady you had failed to see due to your position.

“That’s right. You’re the future wife of a God. No matter how powerful and cruel a divinity is… — he started, one of his hand reaching out to grasp that water-pipe irking him to no end — A man is nothing without his woman” he finished, inspecting the smoking device between his fingers.

His words had left you breathless, your inner walls squeezing his fingers as you writhed in his arms. Your moans echoed in your small dorm, probably the shinigamis in the backyard had heard you too, but you did not care, nor did him. They knew better than coming after the Lieutenant’s girlfriend.

The respect he had gained through the years surpassed even the one your comrades had for the late Shinji Hirako.

Your eyelids had shut, relishing into the way he fingered you so deliciously, and your mouth was hanging open to release those shamelessly high-pitched cries of pleasure he loved so much. The hard wood of the pipe resting against your bottom lip, though, made your eyes snap open again.

Dread washed over you, as Sosuke’s fingers tangled your hair, yanking them back harshly “You still keep his gifts. Smoke for me then. Smoke to celebrate his incoming downfall, darling” he crooned, your blood running cold in your veins as he gripped your wrist and directed your hand up to make you grab the object yourself.

Yout shaky hands did wrap around it, teary eyes meeting his cold ones “S-Sosuke, I am sorry! I just forgot to throw it away, I promise” you apologized profusely, watching how he softly smiled at you and prompted you to raise your hips enough for him to impale you onto his cock.

“I know you did. — he cooed, the bulbous head of his shaft stretching your aching hole, as you languidly looked at him and whimpered as he buried himself deep into your welcoming core — I suggest you to smoke in his honor one last time, darling. Cry for his departure” he whispered, mouth leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down the curve of your neck.

And you mourned Kisuke’s fate. Oh, you did it so convincingly, for after cock-warming your beloved boyfriend for a while he then began to thrust into you in hard, punishing thrusts making you sob tears of pleasure. You hiccuped, blurry vision, smoke filling your lungs, as you exaled through your nostrils.

Body sore, heat overflowing with Sosuke’s hot seed, you collapsed against chest. His arms held you close to him, as he watched the device sink into the now murky water, forgotten forever like the destiny of all those Captains and Lieutenants who had been unlucky to cross his path.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Hello there! Uhm, I feel too ashamed to say anything about this. If it is not toxic, it’s not Sosuke to me. Ah, my first red flag crush… Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I adored writing it!

Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @onyxino @velaenaa @villainsrtasty @stygianoir @noirfan12 @bucciaratizippers @linkwho1 @0wh1te0 @bakugosgirl01 @persuasivus because I think you might enjoy it💫