#the second part will be longer!

[mumblers-lobby]

We don't know that guy.

Before anyone starts whining, go donate to the fund OUR community started for actual SA victims. Shut up and put a dollar on the jar. Thanks, Good Night.

[sakuravalelp]

Don't eat anything else - DC X DP

Using this prompt

Next part

Masterpost

Danny is sure that if it wasn't for his ghost side, he would have already died from malnutrition. Vlad, the monster he is, doesn't allow him to eat any meal without human meat. It's not that he isn't allowed vegetables, fruits, and animal byproducts, but every meal has human meat somehow. Vlad watches him with piercing eyes while he eats, making sure he doesn't avoid the meat.

He's gone days without eating just to avoid it, but eventually, he does have to eat. He has eaten human meat! He wonders if this is why Dan decided to renounce his human side.

Future Vlad had told him that Dan wanted to get rid of his ghost side due to his grief, but maybe Dan thought he would feel better about eating humans if he were a complete ghost. Danny could understand that, but he now knows it wouldn't work...

The Infinite Realms are full of different species, and the act of eating another species that's able to coexist with you in a society feels just as horrendous as cannibalism. Was finding this out what drove Dan mad?

He isn't getting much nutrition when he does eat either, not with him vomiting at least half the times he does. Not that Vlad cares about that;

"Ectoplasm will take care of your body while you stubbornness dies. I do think it would be easier for you if you just stopped being ridiculous and eat."

Ectoplasm and water are the only things he has free access too, and Danny hates how grateful he is for at least having that.

As if things couldn't be worse, he's also been forced to cook the meat. When he started learning how to cook with Tucker's mom, he never, never, would have imagined he would be using his abilities for this. He has grown numb to butchering human corpses…

Corpses are a frequent view in the kitchen. He's scared one day he'll recognize the face of one of them. Vlad knows it and uses to control him, telling him that if he doesn't behave, their next meal might be Tucker or Sam. He hates to admit how docile he's grown.

He hasn't seen Tucker, Sam, or anyone since the explosion in the lab took his family. Vlad doesn't allow him to leave the mansion for anything besides galas. He has him collared like a dog to prevent him from leaving. Except, his collar is a shock bracelet charged with blood blossoms that would inject into his wrist if he tries to escape.

He thought Vlad was bluffing and tried escaping once. His whole body felt like it was burning up in flames, and he wasn't able to move for a week. Vlad told him that next time, the dose would keep him in bed for a month. He hasn't tried escaping since.

He's still talking with them through chat. He doesn't know if Vlad knows, but he doesn't think he does; he told him his phone exploded with the lab. But he can't tell them anything. How could he? How is he supposed to tell them he has cooked humans? That he has eaten humans? That he has grown somewhat numb to it? He can't, and then he feels like he can't talk about anything else that is happening.

Today, as he serves the entrance dish to the first guests Vlad has had since he took Danny in, he forces a fake smile on his face. Inside, he feels a wave of nausea and dread as intense as the first time he was forced to eat human meat. The grotesque irony of presenting this dish, knowing what it contains, twists his stomach and makes his hands tremble ever so slightly.

They don't know. They have no idea that they're being served their own species. They don't know, and Danny is the one forced to make them eat their own kind.

The appetizer is a vegetable-based soup with barely any traces of meat, but the main dish features a full human fillet. The guilt and revulsion claw at his insides, nearly choking him. He has to at least stop them from eating that. He needs to get them out of here somehow. And maybe, just maybe, it’s time to try and put a stop to everything else. He can’t let this atrocity continue.

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

Tim didn't feel comfortable listening to Masters talk about how good the food would be, while Masters' heir served the appetizer with the fakest smile Tim had ever seen. The teen looked so clearly uncomfortable and scared around his guardian that it was hard to resist the urge to grab the boy and leave.

Masters had praised his godson’s cooking during the gala last week, all the while keeping a hand possessively on the teen’s shoulder. Tim didn't like how controlling it seemed, nor how the grip tightened when the teen mumbled quietly about his name being Danny. It was difficult to witness the entire interaction, especially as the teen appeared to fall into a state of complete dissociation afterward.

They were already planning to investigate Masters due to the suspicious nature of all his contracts, but after the gala, they had to shift their focus to helping the teen. They were fortunate that Masters had granted them easy access to his mansion with the invitation to try Danny's cooking.

They couldn't all go to Masters's and leave Gotham behind, so at the dinner, it was just Bruce, Cass, and Tim. Jason was also in the city because he refused to stay away from an obvious abuse case, but he wasn't allowed at the dinner. He would have attacked Masters just from seeing Danny’s uncomfortable stance under his hand during their greeting.

Masters had insisted that Danny serve the food since he had made it, and now Danny stood beside him, serving him the last plate of soup. Danny stumbled for a moment, and before Tim knew it, he was bathed in soup. Tim blinked, surprised at how the soup wasn’t as hot as he had expected, given the steam rising from the other plates.

"Daniel! What the hell are you doing!?"

Vlad exclaimed, standing up from his place, and the teen beside Tim paled.

“I—I am so sorry!” Danny apologized, using napkins to help clean off the soup, his hands slightly trembling. “Did you get burned?”

"No, no, don't worry about it. I'm okay."

"It isn't okay. Daniel, you ruined Mr. Drake's clothes!"

"Sorry... Let's- I think I have clothes that could fit you... So you could change?"

Oh, so that was why his soup wasn’t hot. Danny had poured it on him deliberately; he was trying to get him alone. Despite how scared Danny looked, it seems he still clung to the hope of escaping. Tim felt a surge of relief and determination. He was glad to see that Danny was looking for a way out, and this chance could be their opportunity to devise a plan.

"Thanks, I would appreciate that." he said as he stood from his sit. He saw how Masters was opening his mouth to say something, but Tim didn't want to risk loosing the opportunity. "Please, don't worry about it Mr. Masters, accidents happen, we'll be back in a moment."

Tim locked eyes with Bruce for just a second, a barely noticeable nod telling him Bruce trusted him to do this right. He then followed Danny through the mansion’s halls and up the stairs, noting that Danny’s bedroom was on the top floor. Danny kept his arms crossed, trying to make himself appear smaller.

"I'm really sorry Mr. Drake. I should have been more careful."

"It's okay really, and please, just call me Tim."

"Oh, um, thanks, but Vlad doesn't like nicknames... would- would it be okay to use Timothy instead?"

“… Yeah, sure.” It seemed Vlad controlled the way Danny was allowed to speak. “Would you mind if I call you Danny then?” Tim asked. He had been mentally referring to him as Danny since the gala and wanted to match that with his spoken words.

Danny shrank farther into himself, and Tim was about to retract his suggestion, but then a small smile appeared on Danny's face and he turned to look at Tim.

"Yeah, I would like that." Danny said in a hushed toned, and a hint of fears in his eyes. Like he was afraid to accept the suggestion.

Tim wondered if Masters had punished Danny for mumbling his preferred name at the gala. However, before he could dwell further on the types of punishments Masters might have used, Danny's eyes widened.

"Ancients, you even have soup on your hair-"

Despite Tim’s attempts to reassure him that everything was okay, Danny continued to apologize throughout the journey to his bedroom. Lamenting how foolish it had been to let the plate slip, and how he should have known better.

Danny’s constant self-reproach made Tim question whether he had misjudged the situation. Maybe it had been a genuine mistake. In theory, it wouldn't matter, because he got to talk alone with Danny either way, but he liked thinking that Danny was reaching out for their help.

Once in Danny's bedroom, Danny beelined to his closet to give Tim a change of clothes. Tim took the opportunity to look around. Danny's room was… impersonal. It was sophisticated and extravagant, like a room that would be featured in a magazine. Tim was sure Danny hadn't decided on the decor. He was surprised to see the bedroom had a large balcony connected to it. Maybe Masters trusted it was high enough for Danny not to attempt escaping through it?

"Would this outfit work for you?"

Danny was holding a suit similar to the one Masters had worn at a previous gala. Now that Tim paid attention to Danny's outfit, he noticed that Danny's clothes today were almost a smaller version of what Masters was wearing, with just enough differences to not be immediately recognized as the same. Thinking back to last weeks gala, their outfits were also similar. To what extent was Masters controlling Danny's life?

"Um... if you don't like it I can grab another one..."

Tim blinked, realizing he had just stared silently at Danny while he offered him the clothes.

"No, sorry, got lost in thoughts, I'm okay using those."

"Okay, I'm glad. Again, sorry for..." Danny motioned to Tims clothes "You can change in my bathroom over there." He pointed to a door beside the bed. "Maybe also take a shower?" Danny got a towel from his closet and offered it to Tim.

"Yeah a shower would be good." Tim said, taking clothes and the towel and entering the bathroom.

He'll talk with Danny once he was changed into clean clothes. If only to calm Danny's guilt about the incident.

Danny's bathroom was spacious, with a jacuzzi bathtub, a separate shower, and one of those popular bidet toilets. From an outside perspective it must look like Danny has anything he could want, but Tim knows better than anyone that money doesn't guaranty a good household. It's sad knowing that any CPS agent that did decide to look into this, would be easily push away by Masters money.

Once Tim had showered and changed clothes, he prepared to go back to the bedroom to talk to Danny, but before he did, a green glow from the corner of his eye caught his attention. Tim sucked a breath when he saw what it was. A syringe with traces of Lazarus waters and blood sat beside the sink.

"Timothy? Everything okay in there? Did the clothes don't fit?"

Tim took a photo of the syringe and sent it to the group chat with the caption, "We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse." After taking a sample, he decided to leave the syringe behind, considering the possibility that Masters might use the same syringe more than once and notice its disappearance. He really hoped to get Danny out of there that same day, but if they couldn't, he didn't want to make things more difficult for him.

"Everything is okay! I'll be out in a second."

Tim took one last look around while picking up his dirty clothes, just in case he found anything else. When he left the bathroom, Danny was waiting for him, shifting nervously from side to side. It was time to talk to him.

"Danny, look, I wanted to talk-"

"Ah, let me take your clothes! I'll make sure to clean them and get them back to you!" Danny interrupted him, grabbing his arm and shaking his head with a pleading look.

Tim looked incredulous at Danny for a second, before he realized what was happening and mouthed. "Your bedroom is bugged." He hadn't meant it as a question but Danny had nodded anyway. It was fucked up, Danny couldn't even talk confidently in his own bedroom?

"Right, thank you Danny. I would appreciate that. Perhaps we could take the opportunity to meet again in the future."

Danny gave him the look an adult might give a naive child when talking about an unreachable fantasy, and Tim couldn't help but frown at it. Did Danny believe that even seeing them again was too out of reach?

"That would be great, I'll talk with Vlad about the possibility."

Tim was going to say something else to try to reassure Danny that they would be able to meet, but Danny just handed him two pieces of paper. One was unfolded with text on it, and the other was folded into a small square, smaller than his pinky. He read the unfolded paper first.

- Don't eat anymore of the food. Pretend to have some sort of family emergency and leave, please. Read the other paper when you're far away. -

Tim looked at Danny with questioning wide eyes, but Danny just gave him another pleading look. Tim took a deep breath and took a photo to the paper and sent it to the group chat.

"Oh common, aren't you a little old to ask your guardian about every little meet up you have?" (Would you leave with us?)

Danny gives a nervous chuckle.

"Maybe, but after my family, Vlad tends to be really protective, you know?" He said while pointing to his bracelet.

Tim hadn't noticed how tick the bracelet was before. It was metallic, with a red liquid line in the middle.

"Shock bracelet?" He mouthed.

Danny nodded and then mouthed, "if I scape, it poisons me."

Tim pales a bit at that. They had underestimated how dangerous Masters was.

He motioned to his phone and took a photo of the bracelet after Danny nodded and sent to the group chat with the caption: "Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now."

"We should probably go back with the others now."

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

Group chat

Coffee is my life: *Photo of the syringe*

Coffee is my life: We may have to add experimentation to Danny's abuse.

Death boy walking: Fuck!

Death boy walking: @ Adoption addict, we have to get the kid out of there now!

Bones? What bones?: Bruce is entertaining Masters with Cass at the moment little wing.

Bones? What bones?: I doubt he'll read this.

The blood son: There's no way that buffoon has any relation with grandfather. He's company does not follow any of the leagues morals.

Light & shadow: Maybe he found another Lazarus pit?

Light & shadow: They're supposedly naturally formed right? It shouldn't be that crazy for someone out of the league to have one.

Computer genius: It might not even be Lazarus waters. The tone is slightly off.

The blood son: It is possible that it is a different variation of dionesium.

Death boy walking: Who cares? He's injecting the kid with that thing!

Not Bruces kid: Hate to say it but the zombie is right, we can find what exactly when Danny is safe.

Coffee is my life: *Photo of paper with text*

Light & shadow: ????

Light & shadow: Is the food poisoned!?

Computer genius: Already told them through comms to not eat anymore food.

Computer genius: If the food is poison it hasn't affected them yet.

Light & shadow: Do you guys have a way to deal with the poison there?

Bones? What bones?: Don't worry Bruce doesn't go anywhere without the poison antidote kit.

Death boy walking: Of course he doesn't. The paranoid bastard.

The blood son: It isn't paranoia if the danger is real Todd.

Computer genius: I'll call Bruce in 10 to pretend a family emergency.

Death boy walking: You are NOT going without Danny!

Bones? What bones?: Any possibility on taking Danny with you @ Coffee is my life?

Coffee is my life: *Photo of bracelet*

Coffee is my life: Shock bracelet with the capacity of poisoning Danny. We won't be able to get him out right now.

Not Bruces kid: WTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTFWTF

Not Bruces kid: Wasn't this a low stakes rescue???

Not Bruces kid: Why is this man coming up with plans in the big villain category?

Light & shadow: I'm scared of whatever "the other paper" that Danny gave Tim says.

Light & shadow: Wouldn't be surprised if Masters was connected with a trafficking ring.

Bones? What bones?: @ Death boy walking?

Bones? What bones?: You're too silent...

Bones? What bones?: Remember you won't be able to barge in without putting Danny in danger.

Death boy walking: I ALREADY KNOW THAT DICKFACE.

The blood son: Tt, don't be so surprise by the warning Todd.

The blood son: Your past actions have prove it necessary.

Death boy walking: Shut the fuck up demon brat. You're not one to talk.

... The blood son is writing ...

Light & shadow: Everyone have had their outburst of bad decisions.

Light & shadow: Can we go back to Danny?

Light & shadow: How likely do you think it is that he's a meta?

Light & shadow: Because, I think it's pretty high.

Not Bruces kid: Did you see something strange in him on the gala?

Light & shadow: No, but the bracelet are pretty similar to the meta-suppressors collars I've seen in the past.

Computer genius: I'm calling Bruce right now.

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

next part

[lilybug-02]

Eimmet High...temmiE high. OMG!

Part 28 || First || Previous || Next

--Full Series--

Next update may take...much longer! I have finals and an internship and not to mention I have to draw- A LOT :')

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Lan Wangji Goes To Lotus Pier AU: Part 4: Deranged Bedfellows

(Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4.5)

[wandixx]

GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 2

part one is here

@whimsicalchaosgarden you asked to be tagged, sorry it took so long

Trigger warnings: mentions of experimentation and dehumanization (tell me if there is more appropriate way of phrasing it)

“So,” Robin started, taking the voice recorder out of his utility belt. “It'll probably be best if we get an explanation while making an accident report. This way we get it all over sooner”

Everyone agreed with this idea, standing in the loose circle in the debriefing area to make it all feel more serious. They had limited time before the next batch of cookies needed to be taken out of the oven and there was no way they all wouldn't devolve into chaos when it happened. M’gann knew from experience. 

To make sure they wouldn't take too long and cookies wouldn't turn on the fire alarm (again) both she and Danny set a timer.

In the meantime they had to learn who actually attacked them earlier.

“Phantom do the honors”

Danny froze for a moment, looking like deer caught in the headlight before he asked in a bit squeaky voice:

“How do I make an accident report?”

“Just say what happened but make it sound fancy,” Artemis explained. 

“Make a mission report and we'll fix it along the way,” Kaldur proposed.

“Answer ‘When? Where? Who was involved? What happened? What have you done about it?’ without excessive use of puns to avoid Bat-lecture” Robin helped, already in handstand.

“Bat-lecture? Really Rob?”

“So it's like lab report lite” Danny said before Robin did anything more than squawk indignantly “Alright, I can do it. Do you have any set phrase to start? And which accident report is it, in the database?"

“44th… How about ‘[Hero name], report’? Sounds serious enough.”

Everyone agreed, so after a moment of silence Kaldur did the honors.

“Phantom, report”

Danny straightened, rolling his shoulders back and locked his eyes in the middle distance. It was a bit eerie how fast he went from relaxed and goofy to almost emotionless statue. M’gann wished to never encounter it again, thank you very much.

“Incident report no. 45 made by Young Justice member Phantom, regarding an attack from earlier today, 26th April 20XX. The Young Justice Team, later referred to as the Team, went on a trip to an amusement park staying currently in the city of Happy Harbour. It was an activity meant to strengthen interpersonal relationships within the Team, previously green-lit by Red Tornado. Every member was in civilian attire as per protocol. Around 3:15 PM, after two and a half hours, the Team were disturbed by a group of ten armed people, recognized by member Phantom as belonging to Ghost Investigation Ward, colloquially known as GIW or Guys In White because of their uniforms. Later in the report the organization will be referred to as the GIW. Two shots were fired by the assailants, targeting but not reaching member Phantom. Members of the GIW were hostile but with use of humor and threat of legal actions, the Team managed to diffuse the situation before it endangered passerbys. Despite direct attack, none of the Team members’ identities were compromised. Assailants left the confrontation with belief that Phantom left his ectoplasmic signature on an unrelated civilian. Agents refused to admit they were working for the GIW since its operations break a couple of laws of the state Rhode Island. Because of that, their appearance was reported to local law enforcement and taken care of. No injuries or damage to the city infrastructure were sustained other than two burns in the asphalt in the place of confrontation. Required follow-up with local law enforcement in civilian attire as victims of assault. End of report” Danny sighed, easing back into a more natural position. “This good?” he asked, with a sheepish smile.

“Perfect”

“How are you so good at reporting? You didn’t even know what to do a second ago? That’s just unfair”

“I used to write my parent’s lab reports. It’s pretty similar in form”

“Lab-”

“Follow-up to the report only, Kid-Flash,” Robin interrupted “Phantom. elaborate on who were the assailants”

Danny stepped back from himself again.

“GIW is a ghost hunting organization supported and accredited by the state government in Illinois, legally operating also in states Wisconsin and Ohio. Their goal is to catch and examine ecto-entities to learn more about their biology and ways to obliterate them. Obviously their plans for experimentation don’t include consideration of ghosts’ well-being”

“Damn, that’s messed up”

“They wouldn't catch a blob ghost if they tried,” Danny shrugged, though something was wrong with the gesture. She wasn't sure though, so she moved on.

“Then why were you scared?” M’gann pressed on instead.

“My parents… are, you know, prominent ghost hunters so when GIW opened we all got a tour around the whole building. The lab was… it made me imagine things I wished I had never thought about”

“They have labs? Like evil labs?” Robin perked up like a kid who just heard that Christmas came early. “How could you hide it from us?!” he added, falling to hang on Danny's shoulder. He twirled a bit to catch the left one even though before he stood on halfa’s right side. Dramatic as always “Conner, we have a birthday gift for you!”

“What does GIW’s lab have to do with my birthday?”

“The potential!” Robin yelled, straightening for a better effect.

Everyone started laughing. Well, everyone other than Conner who just looked at them confused.

“He probably wants to storm another lab, bring up nostalgia of our first meeting,” Kaldur calmed down just enough to explain.

“Tell me you wouldn't like to punch an evil scientist,” Wally added, almost dropping to the floor. 

“This does sound nice”

“And THIS is exactly the reason why I haven't told you all. Thanks for spoiling my surprise Rob,” Danny lied, though he did his best to sound truthful. He even projected some false mirth.

It would take much more to trick M’gann though. She abruptly stopped laughing.

“You're lying. Why actually haven't you told us?” she demanded maybe a little too harshly, but she was worried. Everyone froze for a moment, before turning to look at Danny.

“They're all bark no bite, and aim worse than Stormtroopers’, so I haven't considered them important enough to report”

Other's didn’t know, of course, but M’gann knew just how terrified Danny was during the confrontation and how echoes of that fear soured air around him even hours later.

Everyone did realize this explanation was a tone of bullshit though. 

Apparently incredulous stares were enough of the response.

“You and the Justice League have more important things to deal with than some shitty local laws”

“Bullshit again,” Artemis burst her lips “This is exactly what Justice League is for”

“I already found people to help me lobby against them”

“And why aren't we on the list?” 

Danny fell silent, not looking anyone in the eyes, which was quite a feat considering they had him in a half circle. M’gann considered moving to his side to show her support. Stare down like that had to be quite stressful.

Why not actually. She stepped closer, and drew him in the loose side hug. Danny tensed, which wasn't abnormal for him. He usually relaxed in about thirty seconds, if he didn't, she'd let go.

“I didn't expect them to breach the containment…”

“Each of these lies is worse, you know? Like, insulting our intelligence level of worse,” Artemis interrupted once more, pinning him with her eyes alone “Give us truth or stop talking”

Danny raised his head to look back at Artemis and mimed zipping his mouth shut and throwing the key away. 

“Really?”

Boy just shrugged, not breaking eye contact.

“Alright, let's move on to the next question, how did it get approved in the first place?” Wally interrupted, waving his hand between them. They both shook off like dogs fresh out of water.

“Couldn't you wait five more seconds until I won?” 

“Ha! You wish Artemis. Though you could give us a moment”

“I gave you literal ages”

Danny snorted “Sorry, I keep forgetting how impatient you are”

“Oh shut up, my brain is just faster than yours, you slowpokes”

“Sure, sure”

“He made a good point,” Kaldur said “This shouldn’t even pass. And even if, you’re legally a Meta”

“Normal ghosts aren’t and halfas being a thing is not exactly common knowledge among the living”

“I’ll never get used to this distinction”

“I believe in you, Rob”

“What about ‘Extraterrestrial, extradimensional and otherwise previously unincluded’ Optional Protocol to the ‘International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights’?”

“Oh my god Conner, you’re the only person to say the whole name ever”

“Hey!”

“It all comes down to the definition of the ghost and the fact that Alien addition uses sentience and sapience as a ground to give anyone said rights. And also, US signed it but didn’t ratify it so…”

“Isn’t it same thing?”

“Nope. I thought so too, but apparently signing anything means nothing unless it’s also ratified, so I’m kinda fucked. Can’t even get the UN to frown at them disapprovingly, because officially, nothing was agreed to. And you know, even if they ratified it, ecto-scientists conducted enough research to prove we aren’t sapient enough to have these rights anyway. Just most of the states didn’t need to make a law out of it”

“That’s rough buddy”

“Are you really quoting Avatar at me right now? Really Artemis?”

“Yes”

“Wasn’t Avatar this movie with blue people? I don’t think they said that there”

M’gann wasn’t quite sure why human members seemed to be appalled by the question.

“We’re going to fix that later-”

“What exactly is there to be fixed, because I feel like we’re talking about to different things”

“- but for now can we go back to the whole ‘ghosts have no rights in Illinois’ thing” Robin continued, completely ignoring Conner’s questions.

“Illinois, Wisconsin and Ohio. There are portals to the Zone in two of these states. GIW already tried to send nuke through one of them”

“How Americana of them,” Kaldur muttered.

“If you have another insane tidbit about them, please share it all now. My mind can’t utilize any more revelations like that”

“I handled it, don’t worry”

“Someone tried to nuke literal Afterlife…”

“Yup, get on the schedule Kid Flash. You’re supposed to be fast”

M’gann knocked her arm into his, kinda as a ‘don’t be mean’ message. Danny kinda tensed, but soon relaxed back and moved his head as if he wanted to lay it on her shoulder. Excitement of the day was clearly catching up to him.

M’gann wouldn’t be mad if he did laid his head there.

“Why do we learn about it just now?”

“I wrote the report, not my fault you haven’t read it”

“Can’t fault us for assuming we’d know every important thing from your endless bitching!”

Danny straightened and laughed, in this horrible humorless way that made M’gann want to claw at her brain until she couldn’t hear or sense any of it.

Instead, she brought her other hand up and just held him tighter.

Thankfully the whole spectacle didn’t last long.

“It’s cute that you think I bitch about anything important”

“Phantom…”

“Don’t Phantom me right now. Even if by some miracle they managed to send the missile to the Zone, it most likely wouldn’t have worked. They’re mostly just a joke.”

“They managed to shot you. Right upper arm or shoulder”

“Don’t deny it, we’ve seen you wince when I leaned on you and when M’gann hugged you”

Martian tried to let go hearing that, but Danny held her in place. She stayed where she was but carefully moved her hand away from the slightly damp area on his shirt. She suddenly caught on everything that was wrong with him, now that she knew to look for it.

“I got worse from the hand of my house’s security system”

“You… understand that it’s… like… way worse, right?”

“You don’t know life until you hear threats of dissection against your alter ego after stopping death ray with bowl of cereal,” he said, relaxing more into her side again. He sounded absolutely exhausted.

“Do you want to move in here? Until we deal with this whole GIW and assorted mess?” she said instead. Conner nodded, surprisingly eager to share the space that he considered somewhat sacred.

“Nope, I’m good, I’m needed there”

“You could Zeta- yeah, no, nevermind, it wasn’t good idea. But we could make it work”

“You still should-”

“It’s fine. I mean, I have it handled and it doesn’t affect that many people. And we’re working on it. It’s fine”

“It really is not,” Conner growled.

“You need your arm patched up” M’gann demanded, ignoring previous conversation, with eyes still fixed on the blood that stained her forearm. She should’ve destroyed at least Operative K.

“I bandaged it up”

“It soaked through then. Let’s go to med–”

Loud shrill interrupted her, because of course it did.

“Oh, look, convenient distraction! Let’s take the cookies out before they get burned!”

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow,” M’gann stated in a way that allowed no argument “You’re getting away for now only because I’m holding most of your weight right now”

“Sure we will. And I can stand on my own, thank you very much”

“I’ve heard many lies today and this might be the worst of them. We’re going to Medbay as soon as the cookies are out”

“You’ve got it boss”

[tennessoui]

Would you like to do this one for Obikin ? 👀

22. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

💯

[from this list of prompts]

[2. 'have you lost your damn mind?' (LATEST) - 5. 'are you jealous' - 13. 'kiss me.' - 14. 'hey, i'm with you, okay? always.' - 18. 'this is the stupidest plan you've ever had. of course i'm in.' - 19. 'the paint is supposed to go where?' - 24. 'you're the only one i trust to do this' - 27. 'i'm pregnant' - 28. 'marry me?' - 29. 'i thought you were dead' - 32. 'i think i'm in love with you and i'm terrified' - 37. 'wanna dance?' - 44. 'if you die, i'm gonna kill you' - 41. 'you did all of this for me?' - 46. 'hey, have you seen...? oh']

22. 'I've seen the way you look at me when you think I don't notice.'

"Oh," a very familiar voice says. "I wasn't aware you were attending the banquet tonight."

Anakin stares down at the empty plate before him. The servers are moving around the tables as guests rise from their seats and begin to chatter amongst themselves. Anakin thinks for a moment about trying to catch his master's eye, but Qui-Gon is across the hall in deep conversation with the representative of Alderaan the last time that Anakin checked. And anyway--he's not sure his master would intervene to help him with this problem.

Even though, technically speaking, this problem is half Qui-Gon's problem. Or, like. At least a quarter of it.

Probably.

"Though I suppose I would have known if you'd responded to my comm-message," the voice says in a lilting and crisp Coruscanti accent that Anakin knows is as much of a ruse as the rest of him.

Anakin scowls down at the table and counts to five. He is here to represent the Jedi Order as a senior padawan. He is not here to start a diplomatic incident by stabbing Prince Kenobi in the hand with a shrimp fork.

Or is it Lord Kenobi?

He thinks, yes, technically probably a lord. Or maybe it was a knight? A duke? Anakin can never remember all the words that make up Kenobi's title. He just knows that Kenobi's elder brother married the queen of Stewjon, so he's now the king consort, and Obi-Wan got to claim a bunch of useless titles without even doing any of the hard work.

And so Obi-Wan Kenobi gets to call himself a prince now when once, he'd called himself a padawan.

Once, even, he'd called himself Qui-Gon Jinn's padawan.

Anakin counts to five again and gathers up all the diplomatic words and scripts he's learned over the years. Then, he actually turns and faces Kenobi, and all of those words fly out of his mind.

Kenobi looks unfairly good in the ivory white of his outfit. The top half is mostly lace, which--isn't it cold in space? Isn't it cold on Stewjon?

He's wearing a small, ceremonial circlet atop his auburn hair, and the glinting gold of the crown offsets the white of his robes nicely. He just--

He looks so beautiful, even as he's lounging in the chair next to Anakin, eyes pinned on his face as if he'd wait all night just to hear him speak.

That sort of look is dangerous. Anakin knows that intimately well. That sort of attention...Anakin isn't built to withstand it for long. Not without succumbing to all and any of Kenobi's demands. He's sure he has a backbone, but it just melts when he's around Kenobi.

But not anymore. Anakin's twenty now, and he's going to be Knighted any day. He's above such weakness.

"I'm sixteen years your junior," Anakin bites out, hand becoming a fist in his lap. "Don't you think maybe it's a little inappropriate to be comm-messaging me without my master's approval?"

Despite the venom he tries to weave through what should be a cutting rebuke, Kenobi's eyebrows raise. He doesn't look ashamed nor does he look particularly discouraged. "After all the rest of the inappropriate things we've done together, darling, I'd think you'd overlook a comm-message."

Anakin's scowl grows exponentially, but Kenobi continues without pause, "Though if you'd like me to get your master's retroactive approval for every time we've interacted, I shall of course. Do you think he'd approve of your judicious but creative use of the Force when you used it to hold me up against the Senate Commons wall and kriff me silly before my meeting with the Chancellor, or should I leave that out?"

Anakin can feel his face flushing, and he's quick to stand, throwing his napkin onto his empty plate and striding away. He needs--he needs to be further away from Kenobi. He needs to not look at the man, not hear him. Then, he'll stop wanting him.

He must stop wanting him. It's ruining his life.

So of course Kenobi follows him because there's nothing he loves more than ruining Anakin, apparently. He's not even being subtle about it anymore, grabbing Anakin's wrist in plain view of all and sundry and using his grip to tug him out of the banquet hall and into an unused nook of space.

It's small enough that there's not much room to stand apart, but Kenobi at least makes the good faith attempt to drop Anakin's wrist and step away from him. In the Force, he feels strange. Worried, almost, which is not an emotion that Anakin has ever felt from Kenobi. Kenobi, who crafts an air of not caring about anything or anyone whenever Anakin and his master are near. Kenobi, who's purposefully disrespectful to Master Jinn, acts purposefully slow and air-headed and conceited.

He could have been one of the best of us, Jinn had told him once. It was the only time he'd ever talked about Kenobi. He made different choices, and I suppose he still blames me for them.

"Come now, Anakin, tell me what's wrong," Kenobi says, nudging at him almost clumsily in the Force. The touch startles Anakin. It's been twenty years or so since Obi-Wan left the Order. Or since Master Jinn refused to take him back as his padawan after a mission on a civil-war struck planet and Obi-Wan had had no choice but to leave the Order.

Jocasta Nu told him once: all stories have different endings and beginnings when the teller changes.

He thinks that's especially true when it comes to whatever tension exists between Kenobi and Qui-Gon. Though Anakin wasn't wise enough to keep himself out of it, he's certainly not stupid enough to shove his nose so forcefully into the middle of it.

"I've seen the way you've looked at me tonight when you think I'm not looking," Kenobi is saying, wheedling really, as his Force signature rubs even more insistently up against Anakin's, like a--like a loth cat winding around his ankles, searching for affection it knows it will be offered.

No. Not anymore.

"Enough," Anakin snaps, throwing up his highest shields and pushing away from Obi-Wan.

"Just tell me what I've done, darling," Kenobi says. Pleads, really. A part of Anakin thinks it's a very good look on him, and then hates himself for thinking it. Weak. Kenobi makes him weak. "It's not that you don't want me anymore, or you'd have spent less time gawping at me all night."

The words are cruel in their truthfulness and they hit unerringly at Anakin's shame, and so he's snarling back at him before he can stop himself: "Everyone was gawping at you, you're dressed like a schutta."

Kenobi doesn't look to be offended, which riles Anakin further.

But then--then the man steps closer and rests a hand on his chest. They're of a height now that Anakin's grown another two inches over the summer. Obi-Wan's eyes are right there. His lips, also.

"And yet who have I dragged off into a dark corner to ravish me?" Kenobi asks, voice pitched low and eyes blinking sultry blue at him from beneath his eyelashes.

"Yeah," Anakin bites, "only because even after twenty years you're still trying to get back at my master for throwing you out like trash. But the stupid thing is that he doesn't even think about you anymore."

The words hit the way Anakin had meant them to, but as he watches the way Obi-Wan's eyes shutter, the way his mouth tightens and the way he takes a step back and his hand coming up to hold his elbow, Anakin realizes that he didn't--he didn't realize what it would look like, to hurt Obi-Wan.

He hadn't realized Kenobi could be hurt, that Anakin had that sort of power.

And maybe he doesn't really, maybe this is just Anakin's master hurting Obi-Wan all over again, but it's still Anakin wielding the weapon. Anakin who was trusted enough that Obi-Wan did not see it coming.

"I see," Obi-Wan says, and Anakin can't hide his wince at the tone. He doesn't like that tone. Didn't realize how warmly Obi-Wan spoke to him until the chill set in.

But it's not as if what he said was wrong, Anakin tells himself. And it's not as if Obi-Wan's been fair to him either, using Anakin like that.

And--and sure, maybe when they first started...whatever this is--was--maybe Anakin had wanted to use Kenobi too. After all, he'd been eighteen and charged with guarding some rich senator at an event just like this one. And Padmé Amidala had been there, and Anakin had been so desperate for her attention that he'd thought--maybe if he could make her jealous by talking with Kenobi--

And talking had turned into kissing had turned into bedding, but it hadn't been about Kenobi, not really, not that first time. It'd been about Padmé and how much Anakin had wanted her to notice him, see him for the man he'd become.

And he's sure that Kenobi had bedded him with ulterior motives too--not to make Qui-Gon jealous, of course, which is a thought that Anakin doesn't even like to think about, honestly--but to make Qui-Gon upset. Master Jinn didn't like the slimmest reminders of his old apprentice. To find out that his old apprentice had bedded his new one...no, Master Jinn did not, in fact, appreciate that.

So they'd both had ulterior motives the first time they slept together, and they'd probably had them for a while after too. It was an arrangement. A casual affair.

Before Anakin had gone and developed feelings for Kenobi, of course.

And now it's not fair. None of it's fair, because Anakin's in love with him and Kenobi's still just sleeping with him for the sake of some bruised pride he's been nursing for twenty years and now Anakin's gone and hurt him, genuinely hurt him, and he doesn't feel the way the Chancellor had told him he'd feel when he told the prince where to shove it. He just feels awful, like he'd been hurt too.

"I apologize for wasting your time, Padawan Skywalker," Kenobi is saying when Anakin tunes back into his voice. His face is hidden behind a cool mask of untouchable indifference. His arm is still crossed in defense over his chest. "I was mistaken in the understanding we had between each other, and I have thus overstepped erroneously."

It's not fair, Anakin thinks wildly as Obi-Wan steps away from him like he's going to move out of the alcove altogether. It's not fair that Obi-Wan's apparently so good at the diplomatic script of the Jedi that he can fall back on it at any moment, even after all of these years, and it's Anakin who can apparently only ever use his words to hurt.

So Anakin doesn't use his words. It's instinct, probably the first one he ever learned, to reach out in the Force instead. Nudge their Force signatures closer together and drop his shields so he can feel--truly feel--the heat of Obi-Wan's presence in the Force entangled around his own.

It's easier after that to reach out his hand and catch Kenobi's wrist. Then it's easier than anything else to use that hold to push him up against the wall and bracket him in with his body to keep him there.

Kenobi doesn't fight against his touch, but he doesn't bloom under it either, the way Anakin's gotten used to him doing. He doesn't even look at him, keeps his eyes on the neck of Anakin's Jedi robes.

"No, I'm sorry," Anakin murmurs, squeezing Obi-Wan's captured wrist. "I didn't--I didn't mean that. Not at all."

"If you didn't mean it at all, you wouldn't have said it," Obi-Wan points out, which is...well, correct, technically, but Anakin doesn't like to hear it.

"I was just...someone told me that," Anakin admits. "And I--I mean, I know you and I know--what we have. And what it is. And I'm fine with that, I understand it. I just let it get to me, that maybe you only like me cause you're still out for revenge against my master. But, um."

Obi-Wan is looking at him now, something soft and quizzical and confused coloring his gaze.

"I thought I couldn't stand being nothing but revenge to you," Anakin makes himself say, even though his breath feels caught in his throat. Danger, danger. He is skirting too close to the truth. He is saying too much. But if he doesn't say anything, what then? "But that's not so bad, I guess. It's better than being nothing to you at all."

Which is a lesson that Anakin has just learned and is eager to never experience again. Even if it makes him pathetic and weak and spineless and some prince's playtoy, or whatever else the Chancellor had implied. He'd like to see the Chancellor stand up to Obi-Wan's dignified yet wounded eyes.

"Darling," Obi-Wan says, and for a moment his hand cups Anakin's face. It's just long enough of a touch that Anakin can't help but to lean into it with an exhale. "You've never been nothing to me."

Anakin gives into the urge to kiss him. It's a miracle that Obi-Wan lets him.

It's also nowhere near enough; Anakin is a greedy sort of man. He doesn't want nothing or a little more than nothing from Obi-Wan. He wants everything.

[izaanagi]

There is a moment of panic when you knock on the door, your nerves giving a jolt - before a curt ‘Come in’ seals your faith. 

As the door creaks open, exactly like it would in a horror movie, you step in only to have the man sitting at his desk and typing away at laptop fill up your vision. He does not look up from the task he is completing, but even the clacks of his drawn out fingers sound elegant and useless to argue with. The aura that Barou exudes is simply that of complete devastation and utter dominion: there is no way to fight such a beast and even for a second hope you could come alive out of it. 

“I have the documents you asked for earlier. I am going to leave them on the desk, sir,” you put out, as the boss has not spared yet a glance, and you don’t  have enough time to waste. 

He does not answer, and so all is left to do is to pace forward, place the pile on top of the flawlessly arranged working desk and turn around to leave. But you still have to make a step towards the door, when the clacking stops. 

“Wait,” he snaps, as you hear him getting up and cross over to go towards the door, and shut it close. 

It’s not a good sign, and you swallow the clump of saliva just formed inside your mouth. There is anticipation and dread, and they’re both equally as powerful. 

As Barou approaches, all you can do is step back - but there is nowhere to go, as soon your back hits the desk and his splayed hand trap you right where you would not like to be at this time: right in his cage, his eyes fixed on yours, his cologne being overbearing of the citrus lemon ambiance diffuser he has somewhere hidden on one of his shelves. 

“You thought you could simply go like this after what happened yesterday?” He asks, almost curious. “Did you think that it was a one-time thing and that now we could just go back to working in the same space with no repercussions?” 

You swallow again, and shake your head. “I did not dare to think so, sir.”

Then, he comes closer and closer, until your mouths are a breath away and his deep red eyes are the only splash of colour you can focus on. 

“Then you can get on your knees and make me forget that for a second you did, little peach,” he whispers, as a grin tries to appear on his mouth. 

There is already a knowing pool of wetness forming over your grey panties, your hands slightly trembling both in fear and anticipation of what his newly formed connection will be like. It does not matter that Barou’s cock was inside you not even twenty four hours prior, this is a place of work and tainting it with the smell of sex is not something that you could have imagined. 

Almost on autopilot, a dull throb possessing your faults hidden beneath a layers of clothes, you sink on your knees, your face landing directly in front of your boss’ crotch, a tent in his pants evident. He’s semi hard by the time you pull down his zipper and his pants. 

Your nose bares close to his cock, a small smear of pre cum staining the white boxers - when Barou’s hands grabs your neck, almost enveloping it, and presses your face against himself. 

“This is all your fault. I’m sitting here and all I can think about is how tight your pussy was,” he almost moans. 

Your lick his shaft through the fabric, the firmness of his member weighting on your tongue. The fabric gets in the way, wet under your ministrations, until Barou gets tired of it and with a small “Fuck this,” simply tugs at his waistband, and draws his dick out, red and swollen. 

You lose no time to envelope his tip inside, sucking on the soft skin and trailing your tongue over his slit, salty from the precum. Your left hand then wraps around his length, from the base up to the middle, as your struggle to let your fingers meet, given his girth. There is a ton of Barou and your mouth is simply too small to take him all in. 

“You look good on your knees with my cock in your mouth,” he says, as he pushes your head once again, his tip almost hitting the back of your throat with the power behind it. “Make use of that mouth wisely.”

Your head starts bobbing up and down, taking as much of him as you can, as your tongue swirls around his vein underneath, his glans and wherever it reaches. You almost gag before you can remove yourself from him, a thread of saliva connecting you to the majestic statement of manhood. You look up only to find Barou Shouei flushed, one hand still on the desk to support himself and the other ready to take advantage of you again. 

Blowing him is a hard job, as you twist your hand around the parts you cannot reach with your mouth, licking his shaft up and down with your tongue, and then sucking in his tip, cheeks hollowed up. 

As his cock hits the back of your throat again and you gag for the umpteenth time, you can feel Barou’s cock twitch. It reverberates throughout your wet pussy, looking for some kind of release, but Barou’s hands are soon on your head and all you can do is grasp his hips as he thrust into your mouth with ferocity, seeking a climax. 

There is an abrupt “Holy fuck,” as cum flows into your mouth, thick and hot, the taste of sea water. There is no time to spit out as his hand closes your mouth and all you can do is swallow his semen, make a disgusted face and wipe your mouth. 

“I hope you enjoyed your meal,”he says as he shoves his dick once again in your mouth, in order for it to be clean. But that’s as far as it goes, as you stand up, your knees hollering at you from being in that position a minute too long and wobbling at the door, mentally scanning your desk to remember whether you brough some water with you. 

“Close the door as you go,” Barou adds, as he zips himself up and goes to sit back again at where you found him when you came into the office. 

“You are such a dick,” you mutter to yourself as you bang the door after you, and can all but see the satisfied shit eating grin that Barou Shouei has plastered on his lips. 

[necrotic-nephilim]

Nightwing: Brothers In Blood is such a fucking hilarious comic for DickJay content, given the bulk of the plot is Jason deciding to dress up as Nightwing and kill people which, Dick predictably is not fond of, as a concept.

There's so much in that arc that makes me unwell. Dick straight up saying he wishes Jason had died. The way they instantly banter when they run into each other before Dick gets mad at Jason for dressing up as Nightwing, then Jason begs Dick to work with him.

But what I think gets me the most is the outright confirmation of how even now, Jason still has a serious case of hero worship for Dick and just wants to be like him and get his approval.

nightwing (1996) #120

There's such a complex Jason has over Dick and it makes me Unwell. Jason identifying with Dick, wanting his attention, his approval. His love, even. I mean, later on when Jason gets kidnapped, in his mind he hallucinates Dick talking to him and it outright confirms he wants Dick to save him and Jason has a doomsday spiral about Dick not saving him, through his mental image of Dick.

nightwing (1996) #121

Jason wants Dick in his life, there's so much unrequited love and weirdness between them. They're so not normal about each other. Later on he sends Dick a note saying he just wishes they could be family again and I think it's so unhinged of Jason. Dressing up as Dick, just because of how much he loves and respects Dick. So much potential in that.

Also aside from all of that complex this comic is also hilarious for the bit it has where Dick accidentally takes a job as a model and has to dress up as Nightwing, specifically Jason!Nightwing because of the sex appeal Cheyenne (the woman Dick is seeing) thinks it has. And when he's on the runway and sees Jason in the audience he just jumps at Jason, in front of everyone, to beat the shit out of him, while dressed as Nightwing. Which the public thinks is a planned stunt to bank on the weird Sexy Rivalry between the two Nightwings currently running around. It's the most unhinged thing and I think it's so funny. Dick's sort-of-girlfriend makes him dress up as Nightwing!Jason because she thinks it's hot and it'll sell, then Dick beats Jason up in front of everyone, still dressed as Nightwing (specifically Jason), and it reads as a sexy performance modeling piece.

nightwing (1996) #120

Imagine being so weirdly homoerotic about your sort of kind of brother figure that you can't hesitate fighting him when you're supposed to be modeling and everyone thinks the tension is so good it's a part of the show. These two cannot leave each other alone with their weird tangled feelings for each other. I love it dearly.

[rsenak]

it's still not enough, i'm still lacking of something

[longagoitwastuesday]

This is about Hindley:

«After a short suspense it was opened by a tall, gaunt man, without neckerchief, and otherwise extremely slovenly; his features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung on his shoulders; and his eyes, too, were like a ghostly Catherine’s, with all their beauty annihilated».

And this is about Heathcliff:

«a tall man dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair. He leant against the side, and held his fingers on the latch, as if intending to open for himself. “Who can it be?” I thought. “Mr. Earnshaw?”»

Heathcliff is the character most often described as tall (and altogether big), with Hindley also being described as tall, as well as Linton, Heathcliff’s son, being said he was tall for his age (which is fitting).

I find so juicy that Heathcliff and Hindley look somewhat alike, at least structure-wise, enough to make Nelly think for one moment Heathcliff could have been him, and scratch the idea because no, that's not Hindley's voice. You resemble the man who destroyed you. It goes both ways. His child looks like his sister. One could think it was her child instead. A stranger will think the boy your son. You'll smile at the irony.

[yuus-sentient-teddy]

To heck with it--FragMem fluff

aka Happy First Anniversary to Fragaria Memories!

Apologies if OOC, this is the gist that I got of their characteristics. I hope you guys enjoy regardless!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was looking to be another late night in the castle's library, but at least you had the quilt Romarriche gifted you to keep the increasing chills away, and small snacks and tea to keep your spirits up.

Actually, you never brought the snacks and tea: they were always there when you came into the library. It started almost a month ago and none of the librarians could tell you who left them there (or so they claimed). You had an idea who the culprit was regardless; you recognized the tea set and plates as the ones he reserved just for special guests. You didn't approach him about them, though, afraid that if you did, your fluttering heart would make it difficult for you to properly thank him.

Besides, you still needed to figure out what to gift him back in return for the quilt. You've considered an embroidery of a bouquet of roses, tea from another kingdom that you think he may enjoy, and a quilt of your own making, to name a few. They were good ideas, but now that he was providing refreshments, you thought the gift should be a little more refined--

You blink, refocusing on the form in front of you. You chide yourself for letting your mind wander back to gift ideas and him. You have forms to finish and a bed to fall into, now isn't the time!

With a huff, you reread the paragraph and adjust the quilt over your shoulders. Your fingers run over the stitching and feel the soft texture of the fabric. Even if it's been months already, you still appreciate the craftsmanship of the quilt and you are thankful for the comfort it brings.

You know what, perhaps you should make a quilt after all; you aren't as skilled as the older needle-workers, but you're pretty good at the craft. You just need to figure out what patterns he likes, maybe you can casually bring it up the next time you two chat. While you're at it, you should thank him for the refreshments. He's so thoughtful, and you really should have told him you appreciate them when they started appearing.

Despite your best efforts to focus on the paperwork, your sleepy mind further wanders to him and plans for the quilt.

It isn't long before you quietly doze off.

You're not sure how long you were asleep, but when you become conscious, you realize a few things:

One, you're being carried by someone.

Two, you're snuggling against this person, who is so warm and whose arms feel safe to be in.

Three, there's a faint perfume of roses, tea, and a certain sweet something that altogether is unique to one person.

Romarriche.

Romarriche is carrying you.

You try to keep calm and be still. If you are still dreaming, you don't want to wake up quite yet.

After a few seconds, he stops to open a door and the familiar scent of the scented candle you burned earlier greets your nose. He's brought you to your room.

You feel yourself being laid on your bed, legs hanging over the edge, and your shoes carefully taken off. He lifts you up and puts you down again so that you're lying completely on the mattress, and your heart flutters at how he does it so effortlessly. The blankets are pulled up to your chin and gentle hands tuck you in. All the while, Romarriche whispers to the supposedly sleeping you.

"I deeply admire you for your dedication to doing excellent work and wanting to help wherever you can. I just wish there was a way where you wouldn't have to push yourself to exhaustion."

You feel strands of your hair being brushed away from your face. His fingers lightly touch your cheek and linger there.

"I feel that every time we meet, the bags under your eyes get deeper, and I cannot help but be more worried. I do remember what you told me that night, but I also remember you nearly falling asleep into your lunch just last week and again three days ago."

He sighs. "I want you to know that your coworkers and I would be more than willing to share your burden. You wouldn't need to stay later than usual that way."

His perfume gradually becomes stronger. "I hope that somehow, my words can reach you in your dreams. I dearly care about you and wish for you better health."

Something soft touches your forehead; it doesn't get past being feather light. It's there for just a second, then it's gone along with his scent.

"No," you hear him whisper to himself, "I mustn't. It would be improper of me to assume they would feel. . ."

Hang on, that tone in his voice. It couldn't be longing, could it?

He sighs again, then says with a smile in his voice, "Have sweet dreams, dearest."

Once he leaves, you open your eyes and think about what just happened. You clench your hands and internally scream.

Romarriche cared about you this much?! Did he know that you appreciate him and that you really like him?!

A realization hits you that makes your face warm up.

That feather-light touch on your forehead. . .

"It would be improper of me to assume they would feel. . ."

". . . dearest. . ."

He was in the process of kissing your forehead and stopped because he didn't know if you felt the same towards him.

Romarriche liked you.

You smack a hand over your now burning hot face. Great Strawberry King, you really need to work on that quilt ASAP!

. . . And tell him that you like him back.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You look forward to harvesting the newest species of apples, so much so that you're sure the horses would roll their eyes if they could whenever you gush about it. You can't help it! You just love seeing how well the apples grew, and tasting one and thinking about the potential dishes you can make.

Stepping outside, you take in a deep breath of the fresh morning air and smile. The sun is just on the verge of peeking over the horizon and the autumn chill lightly bites your cheeks. You notice some farmers climbing into a wagon, likely coming back from the kitchen after delivering vegetables and apples for this morning's breakfast, and you wave to them. They wave back, then head on to their side of the field.

Your fellow harvesters won't arrive until a little later, so you decide to meander around.

You pass rows of various fruits and take a quick look at a patch of ripe pumpkins. Your lips immediately lift into a smile as you remember a certain Fragaria helping the farmers plant the seeds and attentively listening to their talks about pumpkins.

He was cute and had a very bright personality, was proud and had faith in the goodness of everyone he met. You two would have small chats at random times throughout the day, but nothing more beyond that, what with his knightly duties and your tending to the farm and the livestock keeping the two of you busy. You'd really like to get to know him better.

You look up every so often at the sky for incoming warm shades and you rub your hands together or lift the collar of your coat a little higher. You don't mind the autumn weather, but it does get a bit too chilly for your liking. It still doesn't stop you from getting up early and being the first to be ready to harvest.

You suddenly hear your name being called. Startled, you turn around.

Jogging down the dirt path, white and red uniform visible in the early gray morning, is Hallritt. He stops before you, panting, and his cheeks are pink from the autumn chill and the small excursion. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting you, but I wanted to give you something."

He holds up a red knitted scarf and your eyes widen.

"It's just, I've noticed that you keep hunching into your coat and I get worried that you might catch a cold. So, I learned how to knit a scarf," Hallritt explains bashfully. "I'm sorry if it's a little crooked in some parts. I've never knitted before and practiced before making this, but. . . I hope you still like it."

You're silent as your mind registers his words; he slowly starts to become worried. But before he could say anything, you smile and say, "I haven't seen you a lot as usual and thought it was just my imagination. I appreciate this, Hallritt!"

Your fingers brush against his when you accept the scarf. In that brief moment, you feel a tiny spark that makes your heart skip a beat. You don't notice that Hallritt's eyes had widened a little, feeling the same tiny spark.

You wrap it around your neck and immediately laugh. Hallritt joins with his own. "I didn't realize the scarf would be this long," he says.

"No, it's perfect! Look, I can wrap my hands around the ends!" You proceed to demonstrate this.

"That's a relief!"

Somewhere beyond the rows, you hear horses fussing, and the sky starts to take on a pink tint. "I have to get going soon. Will I see you at the stables later?"

"Yeah! I have to apologize to Blossom for not visiting her for so long. I hope she can forgive me if I bring her treats."

"For someone like you, I'm sure she will."

"Wow, you really love that scarf," your friend observes.

"How could I not? It's so soft and warm!" you say, nuzzling against the yarn.

"You sure it's not just because the knight gave it to you himself?" they tease.

Your cheek warm up and you narrow your eyes at your friend. "No!"

After a beat of silence, you quietly say, "It was nice of him to make this for me, though. I've been racking my brain for the past hours settling on a gift."

You sit back against the barrier of the cart, staring at the clear sky. "I'd like to make him something with apples, but there's just so many things I could do!"

Your friend considers something. "Come to think of it, I don't think I've seen you try the apples we just harvested."

You blink and sit up, knowing your friend is a fellow baker. "Have you?"

They smile. "I think the taste will speak for itself."

Hallritt had been looking forward to chatting with you again, so he was a little disappointed when you weren't around as much as usual. Was this how you felt when he got preoccupied with knitting the scarf? He feels bad now.

"Hallritt!" To his pleasant surprise, it's you. The scarf is wrapped twice around your neck, and the ends flutter a little behind you as you jog towards him.

"Hey!" you greet, stopping before him. "I was hoping you'd be here. Here, I want to give you something."

You hold up a small casserole dish wrapped in cloth.

"Oh, you didn't have to!" he says.

You shake your head, insisting. "It's thanks for the scarf."

When he accepts it, he could feel the warmth of whatever you had made. "I made it with the newest species of apples. It took me a little bit to come up with the recipe, but I did it!" you explain proudly.

"You came up with the dish from scratch? Now I really can't wait to try! At the same time, it makes me relieved. I've been wondering where you've been for the past weeks."

"Sorry about that, Hallritt." You shrug and smile apologetically.

"There's no need!" A thought comes to him. "Why don't we go to the parlor and share this? I've. . . kind of missed talking with you."

Your cheeks heat up. "Honestly, me too. But you don't have to share, though! If anything, I'd like to hear what you think of them."

And so the two of you spent a cozy afternoon in the parlor, catching up and laughing, and unknowingly moving closer together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You yelp again for what seemed like the umpteenth time and manage to catch yourself against a brick wall. You're usually good at handling icy paths, but you've never gone down this street before and it is ridiculously slippery. You wouldn't be surprised if this street has an associated notoriety.

"Are you all right?" Tuxam asks, just three paces in front of you. You are impressed and envious over how he hasn't slipped even once during the walk. You think his cane might be helping, but it doesn't take away your feeling.

"Yes, just almost slipped again is all," you say, shaking your head and steadying yourself.

". . . Here." You look up from the sidewalk. He's offering his arm to you. "H-hold on to my arm."

He clears his throat, embarrassed by the stutter, and the dust of pink on his cheek darkens. He's still avoiding eye contact as he says, "As a gentleman, it would be unforgivable if I continued to allow the risk of you falling and hurting yourself. It is already improper that I let you slip the past few times already. O-of course, you do not need to accept my help, if you aren't comfortable!"

Like any other citizen of this kingdom, you are aware of Tuxam's fixation of being a proper gentleman. While there are moments where you think he is going overboard, you think it is charming how he insists on holding open the door for the next person or pulling out a chair for you to sit in. Or maybe you just think the Fragaria himself is cute--ahem!

You shake your head and smile. "No, it's fine! I appreciate it."

He's stiff and a little awkward as you both loop arms, but as you two continue down the sidewalk, he relaxes--just a little bit. This is much closer than the two of you have ever been; the other time was when he readjusted your tie and had unknowingly stood very close. You wouldn't forget how embarrassed he got over invading your personal space, but you didn't mind. . . mostly because you yourself were preoccupied by your racing heart.

You spy the two of you in a reflective glass pane. You had a pleased but shy smile on your face while Tuxam had a straight but blushing face. Altogether, you two looked like a couple heading for their first outing.

Whoosh!

"Whoa!"

A gust of cold wind suddenly smacks into you two. Immediately, you duck and huddle closer against Tuxam, your free hand gripping his sleeve. Once it passes, you look to him.

"Sorry about that, I was--Tuxam, are you okay?"

His face is bright red and he seems to be on the verge of exploding. He shakes his head. "Yes, I'm all right. You don't need to trouble yourself over me. Are you all right?"

"Yes, just surprised is all. Oh, your hat's a little crooked. Here, let me fix it."

You unlink your arms and adjust the hat accordingly. You then notice his bow tie is crooked as well and begin to carefully fix it. All the while, Tuxam is quiet. Another wind comes, but it's significantly calmer and causes loose snow from building roofs to fall.

He can't stop staring at you. He thought of you as perfection when the two of you first met, and being able to properly see your face, he was well reminded of it. The backdrop of lightly falling snow makes the scene somehow more beautiful.

You eventually notice his staring and realize how close your faces are. Your cheeks heat up. "I'm sorry, am I standing too close?"

He blinks, cheeks heating up as well. "Ah, no! I was just. . ." He falters for a moment, then collects himself. "Thank you for fixing my appearance. It would have been improper if it continued to appear unruly."

You smile in response. "Of course, Tuxam. Shall we continue walking?"

He agrees. When the two of you link your arms again, he's a little less stiff than before.

A few paces down the sidewalk, he speaks up. "If you need to hold onto me with both hands, you may. Your safety and comfort are important, and it wouldn't do if I ignored those."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You remind him of the poems he read about the the spring and summer breezes. Warm and refreshing, and a singing voice that carries beautifully across the field or a room with an open window. Sometimes, the breeze that is you turns into a dizzying wind full of anxieties. He's more than happy to listen to whatever is on your mind, and for that, you're forever grateful.

You try to repay him for being so patient and willing to listen to your anxious thoughts, but he waves them off. You accompanying him on his traverses into the nearby fields is more than enough.

It's something the two of you do sometimes after all the work is done, if the sun is shining brightly and Puruth is in the mood to look for four leaf clovers. Sometimes you bring your lyre to get his opinion on a work in progress or to have something to fiddle with. There are moments where you even come up with a poem or random composition on the spot.

The latter scenario isn't that rare, not when he looks right at home in a sunny flower field. You'll often see Puruth standing in the middle of ankle-height grass, staring at the distance with a relaxed smile, while the sun casts its golden light on him and turns him into an enchanting prince.

You think Puruth has caught on that some of your sporadic poems and compositions are inspired by him. You also think he's aware that you're aware some of the poems he writes himself are inspired by you.

Neither of you seem to want to point it out, but if the glint in his eyes are anything to go by and if he understands the glint in yours, this arrangement is just fine. It's basically a fun little open secret between the two of you, one that you hope lasts for a long time.

The gentle rustle of leaves. The smell of dirt and a tinge of lavender in the passing breeze. You open your eyes to the sleeping face of Puruth just a small step away from you. He's facing you, and you wonder if he had fallen asleep while watching over you. It wouldn't be the first time.

In the hour before you fell asleep, the two of you climbed up a small hill and sat beneath one of the trees at its top. There, he read poems from a book he borrowed from the town's library and the two of you chatted about them. You vaguely remember a poem about dandelions and thinking how nice it was to listen to his voice and how comfortable the grass felt.

The book now sits between the two of you; a ladybug was making its way across the cover. Surely Puruth wouldn't mind if you looked through to see what other poems were there.

You sit up--and that's when you discover something that makes you chuckle.

Three-leaf clovers have been stuck through the buttonholes of your jacket and the loops of your shoelaces. Puruth must have collected the clovers and stuck them in while you were asleep.

You pick the one at the very top of your shirt and realize it's a four-leaf clover. You huff through your nose, smiling. Carefully, you tuck it in his hair--then stand up and head down the hill to look for a clover patch.

In just a few minutes, his hair is dotted with the little green flora. You didn't have Puruth's luck in finding four-leaf clovers, but at least he had the one he gave to you. You silently laugh at your handiwork and reward yourself with reading the book of poems, eagerly waiting for his reaction when he wakes up.

You hope afternoons like these last for a long time.

[nicorobinphd]

stg, being an enjoyer of jane twdg is like being forced into an expert-level course on the way misogyny manifests in video game spaces.

god forbid a woman be complex or difficult or provably mischaracterized (see tags) at the end of her arc to service the culmination of a man’s storyline.

[knifefightandchill]

RESIDENT EVIL 4 (2023)

Hide. Now!

[chelnciel]

Another thoughts about ch 23b and some hopes for the future

“What the hell is this?”

I wonder the same thing, dear.

“I’m all screwed up…!!”

I don't know how to understand Hirano's last thought, is he saying he's screwed because he is admitting that he has feelings for Kagi or because he's so deep in this thing that he can't see how to get out without hurting himself or Kagi in the process?

"But i've realized…Just thinking isn't enough to let me decide"

Hirano saying it is no longer enough just to think about it to make a decision... Is this a statement that the 10 sec of touches are no longer useful to him? Can we get our hopes up and think that he wants to try other things? Maybe not just an innocent touch of hands?

I want to believe that from now on, they will begin to explore more flirtations and intimacy between them (yes, even more), leaving aside a little bit the 10 seconds rule that fell short for both of them, and that we will see more BL development (as our dear author called it).

After reading and rereading the chapter, that phrase keeps haunting me (1), and it makes me hopeful that maybe Hirano's confusion/indecision comes from the fact that he reacts (unconsciously) more to emotion that manage to enter in that dense head of his than to physical contact and this deal they have has given him no major clues as to whether he can see our beloved basketball player as his boyfriend (I think he really only reacts to Kagi's reactions. Not to the touches themselves, not to what people around him say, only to what Kagi communicates to him, only to what Kagi says to him verbally or paraverbally).

Although when I was thinking about it I had forgotten a panel: when Hirano questions why he wanted to pet Kagi's hair and restrains himself.

So, he's not sooo foreign to touch, perhaps the problem is what kind of touch he knows and how he classifies it as a romantic touch. 

Initially he didn't want hugs, he considers them too intimate, but despite that he has never had a problem with all the times Kagi has pinning him (that is, Kagi to eat from his dango leans towards him, to make him feel if he has a fever he leans over him, and a few other times).

Or, maybe there's an issue with how Hirano interprets the touches, and how he assign the intention according to the context (or how he gets lost in the context). I mean, he allows him to put the earrings on him, or the lap pillow thing, or that they're always glued to each other, invading each other's personal space... isn't that something tremendously intimate per se?

It calls my attention by how in this chapter he doesn't show even the slightest bit of rejection to Kagi's clearly intimate closeness, where he only gets angry because Kagi doesn't look happy and not because he touching him, pushes him against the wall and tries to kiss him (impossible for him not to have thought about it with how close he was to his lips).

But, while so far he has been practically indifferent to the touches (not even a blush in front of Kagi after they almost kissed), the question now is how it will impact on him to have directly felt Kagi's racing heart, if in ch 20, only Kagi's look made him understand that all that passion was focused on him, what effect will it have to feel with his own hand the heat and beats of Kagi's heart focused 100% on him?

I keep my hopes high for the next chapters, since Hirano says that just thinking about it is not enough to make a decision, can we expect the deal to change and try to have a lovers experience closer to reality (maybe try to have a date? I need them to try dating), While it seems to me that the boundaries could be more relaxed, I still don't think he will let himself be kissed right now, but I do think the next moves will be initiated by Hirano, which I'm sure will continue to fall little by little until he himself, in a fit of impulsiveness, kisses Kagi.

At least in this chapter we got to see part of what he's thinking.

After his consideration of being someone else's next, I think this may arouse Hirano's curiosity about Kagi's love past.

I would love to see him ask him directly if he has had girlfriends/boyfriends and have Kagi confess to him that the lap pillow was a test to find out how he really felt about him since it was something he did with his ex, and then Hirano thinking what action would be useful for him to be able to define if that love is a romantic love ( and also what else Kagi will have done with his exes).

Another thing that fascinates me is how amusing Hirano's contradictions are: on the one hand he dismisses what Miyano says.

But on the other, he wants to keep trying. It's like he doesn't want to acknowledge that he loves him, but he's willing to try to love him (if that makes any sense), and also he doesn't want to monopolize Kagi's time, but at the same time he does want to. That poor head is a mess!

And there is an important difference in his reactions. While in ch 20 he tries to escape Kagi's hug (I love the whole scene), in ch 23 he doesn't make any gesture to push him away when he's obviously about to kiss him (and in manga's time it's been like two weeks apart). I don't think it really bothered him.

Also interesting is the late reaction that he always shows in front of Kagi, since only after shouting everything (thank goodness Hansawa wasn't in the next room), and only when he doesn't see him, is when he reflects and blushes just like in ch 17.

It's as if with Kagi present he has a extremely limited atention and can't see anything else or suppress anything. And in the end he sees him so brightly, it's as if he is dazzled by him and his actions every time he sees him.

About the next chapters I still don't have much idea of what will come (since how after chapter 20 Harusono surprised us with the whole date thing that we never saw coming, it's not very clear to me where the story will go), so maybe it's time to show us Ogasawara's date (which he agreed to go because he was in the middle of his gay panic) so that Hirano begins to understand how lovers behave and consciously or unconsciously replicate those behaviors.

It would be so funny if the date with Ogasawara ended up being a group date, with Eimi bringing some friends (of course, if Ogasawara can bring reinforcements, she has all the right to bring her friends). I see Sasaki listless in a corner, half asleep probably thinking about Miyano, Hirano comparing anyone to Kagi (how is he not comfortable without him, how Kagi would be happy eating a lot, taking the fries off his plate, and probably would like to go to the arcade...) and Hanzawa with his poker face while Ogasawara happily fixing things with his girlfriend.

I still believe that Sasaki is going to help Hirano discover his feelings (from what they mention in the ch 15 of ssmy), so hopefully he can help him get his feelings in order soon.

Although sometimes I get swallowed up by the negativity (and the over-analyses of KGHR's crumbs in ssmy that populate my daily thoughts) and I get the idea that they won't be together so quickly, even though in the last few chapters we've seen such a huge progress in such a short time of their timeline, but in ssmy there are panels that make me think that they won't be a couple so fast (I think there's still moderate angst left in this story, unfortunately for me).

On another topic, I still want to see:

🏀 Kagi's reaction to Hirano's black hair and that he's not wearing the earrings at the end of the school year.

🐉 Hirano with his black hair in Harusono's current art style (I live for this, I know I'll frame those panels).

🏐🏀 And if we'll ever get to see the Interclass Ball Games that never seem to come.

I don't want to calculate how many months or even years in real life we ​​have to wait until we see a kiss between them.

Btw, what happened to the hand cream? Was it in the bag? Maybe that date/non-date part is one of the extras in vol 5. anyway i'd rather they didn't show us this “date” (even though we were waiting for it for a year!!!), since it wasn't really a date.

Am I the only one who, based on the development of this chapter and the progress between them, thinks that this could be the chapter that closes volume 5? Crossing my fingers to have volume 5 during this year 🤞

[paralogues]

HEY. DID YOU KNOW. YOU CAN DRAW WHATEVER THE FUCK YOU WANT????

(inspired by this edit of shadow in a dress, and this amazing art by @disastermanagement! outfit based off of this that i found on pinterest)

[chirpsythismorning]

When the interviewer asked when we should expect s5 to be coming out, that’s when Shawn mentioned that a little bit of an answer to that might be out there soon.

He actually mentions that this answer could be out by the time the video for this interview comes out, and since this interview was filmed mid-May and it’s now mid-June, I’m assuming we could be getting something soon or within the next couple months, potentially about a release date aka possibly a small teaser with 2025 stamped at the end…