#though god the fact that i could end up like that

[acid-ixx]

'cause you're takin' it like a champ, sweetheart !

(nsfw) romantic! yandere conner kent x gn! reader

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

— masterlist ; leaked sex tape post ; other post !

a/n: mdni. purely nsfw. inspired off of @luludeluluramblings. the reader here is gender neutral but is a bottom, so interpret them as any gender as you will! mentions of breeding, oral (giving &. receiving), and overstimulation.

i'm sorry but i just read about the sex tape thing and now i'm shitposting you guys. what if instead of making chapter 6 for my series angsty, i make conner and you have kinky, sloppy, sweat-drenched sex after your first date? what if instead of the batfamily stripping you away of your freedom, conner strips you naked right before one of the secret cameras placed inside the room you're both in, that he's sure records every single passionate movement you both make in bed?

what if instead of you crying from the pain of all the negligence, you writhe and mewl like an overstimulated pornstar as he pounds away all your worries instead??? and if the footage unknowingly gets leaked? holy shit, not only do you possess the title of bruce wayne's infamous bastard child, but you're now also known as a kryptonian monsterfucker who definitely possesses the energy of a bull if it means you could handle bed-breaking sex to the point you're sure anyone from a mile away could hear your bated, snappy breaths and conner's sporadic, non-stop humping into the most pleasurable parts of your body.

cause even if he's half-human, that doesn't take away the fact that he is half-human. he sports features that aren't typical in normal anatomy. this just translates to: less energy is consumed when fucking you, so he could go on and on and on eating his love out, leaving marks for hours whilst simultaneously ensuring that you're probably well-bred (and i hc that it's probably almost exclusive to kryptonians that they cum, a lot) and dripping and feeling full by the end of the night (or day, heaven knows just how long he could go off worshipping your body).

and yes, the leaked sex tape piqued the interest of most curious eyes and it's probably going to be the spectacle for most researchers curious about kryptonian anatomy- but consider this. conner's not the only man obsessed with you. there're some romantic interests out there seething with rage, at the same time nutting and touching themselves to the video and playing it on repeat cause you're taking it like a champ.

unfortunately for them though, you've already been too addicted to the feel of conner spearing you down that you just can't fathom anyone else holding you the same way he does. you love the dichotomy he puts you through (to the point you ignore the red glinting lenses above your body) when he's possessively pinning you to the any fucking surface with his strong arms wrapped around your waist, with no chance of escape, the sensation of his dick penetration in and out in a hasty, yet rhythmic beat. yet despite the harsh thrusts, his hand still find itself to your sweaty forehead to wipe away stray hair, his lips taking its sweet time softly pressing kisses from the crown of your head all the way to your lips.

"good j-job takin' me whole, sweetheart— ah! god, i love you..." he whispers praises with his parched throat on your ears, every syllable enunciated with the thrum of his hips, your legs nearly resting over his shoulder. if not for his breaths hitting the inside of your ears, goosebumps spreading throughout your body, you wouldn't have picked up on the bass of his voice complimenting you.

your grip on his body only tightens, eyes shutting deeper into the near zenith. with just how much you're humping back despite the soreness in your muscles, tears escaping your eyes from pure, unfiltered pleasure, it's as if you're putting on a performance for the whole world to see.

"i— AH! i love you, t-too, kon– baby!" your reply came in the form of a squeal after another of his particularly harsh thrusts from waiting for your response. god, your throat hurts, it's more sore than conner's, taking him in your mouth fully felt like a fever dream, but you could remember the shape of his tip puncturing the back of your throat that it has your body reeling for another mind-blowing orgasm.

the glass of water on the stand beside you both is empty, it's been empty for hours. yet conner's still thirsty, how else would he be quenched from his urge when his previous ministrations of eating you out whilst prepping you to take his dick makes him even hornier? there's something about your body that makes the kryptonian want to memorize every single detail from how you writhe when the piercing in his tongue penetrates a sensitive part of you, and oh, the salty taste of your sweat and tears is heaven for a starving man like him.

shit, the thought of sloppily devouring you whole after he fills you up time and time again would be the cherry on top. overstimulation works pleasures on his sweetheart's body like a charm. he loves seeing the more desperate parts of you begging for more yet telling him to stop at the same time, as your hands still tangle harshly on his hair to keep him in place.

... but for now, he's got to focus on the lack of love marks on the expanse of your body, his vision nitpicking all the places in your skin that he's going to suck hickeys on. it'll definitely be his final piece of the puzzle to show all your other admirers his claim on you.

and the whole world can only bear witness to the artwork he's creating with you.

welp, guess it's just going to be you and conner alone in the room for a while, satiating both your hunger for each other, haha...

— oh, and don't forget the hundreds of cameras placed strategically to record all angles of your bodied fucking like animals!

[thebigbadbatswife]

Revelations

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin

Summary - While dealing with the revelation of who Batman really is, under the mask, you cross paths with him for the second time in one night. While you help him navigate your city to find the current source of his ire, the two of you end up uncovering something that shatters your world.

Warnings - Canon Typical Violence, Explict Language. (If I missed something, lmk!)

A/N - Merry Christmas, to those that celebrate! Here's a present, the next part of Under Your Skin! Enjoy!

Taglist - At the end of the fic. As always, if you would like to be added/removed, please feel free to message me!

Word Count - 6k

This was exactly what you needed.

The freezing winter air rushed past you. The wind howled in your ears. The side of your apartment building raced past you as you allowed gravity to take hold of you.

You were experienced at this. You knew exactly how long you could fall like this before you reached the point of no return. The point where any attempt to stop yourself that wasn’t with a parachute would fail miserable. 

From the second that you jumped up to that no return point was a short window. Blink and you would miss it, type of short.

There was something so freeing about free falling like this. The way that it forced all thoughts from your mind while your stomach dropped and your heart pounded. Adrenaline flowed through your veins as you counted by the seconds.

Your eyes snapped open and you pulled out your grapnel gun and fired. Falling turned into, well, swinging, but this high up it felt like flying. 

You flipped through the air and fell again. Then you caught yourself, again. 

You repeated your actions a couple more times until you’re rolling onto a roof of another building and straight back up onto your feet. You’re breathless as you looked up from where you had just jumped. 

You were almost tempted to do it again.

Anything that would stop you from thinking about the revelation that Batman was Bruce Wayne. And the fact that you had been feeling him up moments before your discovery.

You didn’t even know how you were supposed to refer to him anymore. Batman? Bruce Wayne? Batwayne? Bruceman? 

God, you were going to drive yourself crazy with this.

Realistically you knew that all of this would be solved if you just approached him and told him that you knew. At the same time you were still hung up on the fact that he would never do the same.

Maybe you needed to call Dinah. See what her opinion was. You knew you could trust her and her advice had never steered you wrong before. You huffed as you pulled your earpiece out of a pocket along your belt and pushed it into place, in your ear. 

As you resumed you patrol, jumping from roof to roof and surveying the streets below, you tapped a couple of buttons on your gauntlet and the line began to ring. You counted the seconds that passed as it rang, lowkey hoping that she wouldn’t pick up. It had occurred to you that, depending on how the conversation went, you were going to be potentially revealing a lot about the past year.

“Everything okay?” 

Dinah’s voice was, understandably, laced with worry. The number you were using to call her was associated with your League number, which was to be used in emergency. Honestly, you felt that this counted.

“Yes and no. Mostly yes, but also a lot of no,” you replied. “Are you alone?”

The last thing you wanted was for Oliver to overhear. If this was going to be a reveal all, the less people who knew the better. Even though, based on a previous conversation you’d had with Dinah, you got a feeling a lot more Leaguers knew what had transpired between you and Batman than you would have wanted. Even so, on the off chance that you were wrong about that, you wanted as much kept private as possible. 

“Yeah, hang on.”

You heard Oliver in the background asking if everything was okay to which she told him that everything was fine and she would be back. That was shortly followed by a door shutting.

“What’s going on?” 

You took a deep breath, like you were getting ready to rip off a bandaid. By now, you had stopped traversing the rooftops, settling on a water tank. 

“Hypothetically, what would you do if you found out Batman’s identity while also knowing that he has no idea who you are?” 

It came out in a rush and with the silence that followed you started to wonder if she hadn’t heard you. You were about to ask if she had heard or understood you at all, when she spoke. 

“You’re positive you know?”

“I’ve never been more positive about something in my life.”

“And you’re sure he has no idea about yours?”

“Again, never been more positive. Keep in mind this is all hypothetical.”

Dinah laughed softly and you were sure that she was shaking her head.

“Okay, hypothetically, I think, as both your teammate and friend, you should just tell him that you know.”

“Or?” you ventured. You already knew that there wasn’t a way to get around the conversation that you knew had to happen, but you continued to hope.

“You know this is going to agitate you until you do. And that…”

“Could lead to me getting myself or someone else seriously injured because I’m not completely focused.” You finished her sentence for her. She was right. You had to talk to him. “Okay. I’ll talk to him. Thank you, Dinah. What should I do about my own identity?”

“Any time and you don’t have to tell him if you don’t want to. You could use it to drive him mad, if you really wanted to. Hypothetically, of course.”

You laughed this time. As fun as it sounded you got the feeling that as soon as he knew that you knew who he was, he would easily put two and two together. You thanked her again and said goodbye. 

Long after the call ended, you remained on that water tank. Batman was only a call away, but you had yet to actually make the call. You were sure that he would meet you and that it wouldn’t take very long either. Because he was here, in your city, and you had no idea why.

You would find out once you met with him. 

As you were about to call him, a gun shot sounded. Instincts kicked in and you were up on your feet, looking in the direction that it had come from. What the hell? 

The streets had been relatively empty. With Christmas right around the corner most were at home with their families doing various festive things together. The thought of which left a deep longing inside of you.

Two more shots were fired. 

The water tank you were on and calling Batman quickly became things of the past as you jumped into action. You took off across the rooftops, leaping and grappling your way to where you heard the gun fire coming from.

Several more shots were fired as you traversed the roofs. You could only hope that whoever was firing that gun had the aim of a stormtrooper.

It didn’t take you long to reach the scene. What you found was not exactly what you had been expecting. You had expected some gang shooting or something. Instead, what you got, was Batman in a brawl with a large group of men. 

As expected of a seasoned crimefighter like him, he was holding his own. Several men in the group already laid unconscious on the ground, limbs here and there twisted in positions they really shouldn’t be.

He was a blur of black and grey as fought. Well timed punches and kicks and even the clever use of his cape as he stunned men and knocked them off of their feet. You would never say it to his face, but he was rather impressive to watch. A lifetime of training and experience on display. 

But it wasn’t everything. He messed his timing up or he got too cocky, but he got clocked square in the face. It knocked him off balance and he barely caught himself before his head hit the concrete. That one hit was enough to change the tide of the fight, giving the thugs the upper hand. 

“Hold on,” you muttered. It looked like you needed to save his ass again. At least, this time around, it wasn’t your fault. 

You swung into the fight, your boot coming into contact with the face of a man who was about to bring a crowbar down onto Batman’s head. Your sudden appearance had a large portion of them jumping backwards, shouting and swearing. 

As soon as your feet touched the ground, you dropped a smoke pellet. It covered the area in a large cloud, hiding you both from view. You turned to him, offering him your hand. To your surprised, he accepted it. Blood dripped from his nose, even after he tried wiping it away.

“The way I see it, we either finish this or get away. What do you think?” your voice is hushed, though you didn’t think the thugs could hear you over all of their coughing and shouting.

“I’m not running,” he told you. Which you definitely saw coming. When did Batman run from anything? 

You nodded. “Okay.”

“To our left and right, several men are armed with semi-automatics. I’ll go left, you go right. With the smoke they won’t know what’s hit them until it’s too late.” 

You followed his lead, bursting from the smoke and giving the men the fright of their lives. Your boots slammed into the chest of the first one. You used the momentum to flip through the air. Your fist came down onto the second man. The force knocked him to the ground. His gun clattered as it hit the concrete. 

The third man’s gun was aimed directly at you. His finger on the trigger. Your heart thumped hard against your chest. You were literally looking down the barrel of a gun. For the second time in a few months. Though this wasn’t a hand gun. It was a damn semi automatic. Even if you were able to time this perfectly, at least a couple of bullets from the gun would still hit you.

Fuck. 

It wasn’t like Batman’s help was possible. There was still so much smoke and he was focused on his own fight.

He pulled the trigger. 

There was no spray of bullets. No pain from said bullets riddling your body. Instead the gun made a clicking noise. He tried it again, but got the same result. The gun was jammed. You got the feeling it wasn’t just luck that had done that either. 

His eyes widened as it quickly set in how fucked he was now. You darted forward. One hand closed around the gun. You tugged him forward and punched him. Hard. 

There was no time to bask in your victory. There was movement behind you. Keeping your grip on the barrel of the gun, you spun around, swinging the weapon like it was a bat. It turned out to be rather effective. It slammed into the thug’s ribcage, knocking the air from his lungs as he crumbled to the floor.

You used it as a bat a couple more times before discarding it. As effective as it was, it was slowing you down. You moved faster without it. 

The smoke cleared as you fought against the remaining thugs. Before you knew it, you found yourself back to back with Batman. 

Both of you were panting hard. It had been a tough fight, but the end was in sight. You glanced over your shoulder at him, catching his eye or rather his white lenses. It was time to end this.

You worked seamlessly with each other. Downing the remaining thugs while keeping your backs to each other. Kicks, punches, cape stuns, the use of various equipment from both of your belts. You were a whirlwind together. A force to be feared. Unbeatable.

If only the two of you got on this well all of the time.

The last man hit the floor and you and Batman distanced yourselves while you came down from the adrenaline high, that flowed through your veins. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. Even with those lenses, you felt the intensity of his gaze. Much like it had done earlier tonight when you had been face to face with the man beneath the mask. 

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You’re the one with the broken nose.” 

Blood was drying around his nostrils and the blood flow had appeared to have stopped. He brought a hand up to his nose, grimacing a little as he checked himself.

“It’s not broken,” he replied. He was still looking you over, like he was looking for something. Had he figured out who you were? “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem… on edge.”

Were you really that easy to read? Well, there was no time like the present.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming to my city?” 

Were you chickening out? Yes. You absolutely were. Dinah would be disappointed in you, you were sure of it. 

“Considering the time of year, I thought you would be busy.” 

You shrugged. “This time of year is like any other for me. Well, aside from all the parties I keep getting invited to.”

He actually chuckled, which had you giving him a double take. First he was cracking jokes on the Watchtower, now he was chuckling. What had happened to the grumpy, brooding Bat that made you want to send him out the airlock? 

“I know what you mean. It’s never ending.”

You were sure he knew exactly what you meant considering that you knew his secret.

“Why are you here?” 

“A case led me here.” 

“Is it related to the last one we investigated together?”

You remembered the amusement park and Harley Quinn, her damn pets and the gunshot that could had killed you. It was hard not to remember. You saw and felt the scar left behind regularly and there was the nightmares that plagued you more often than not. But you were coping just fine.

“Perhaps. I don’t have enough evidence to confirm it yet, but I was hoping tonight would confirm it.”

You nodded. It made sense. “Like you said on the Watchtower, I’m already involved, and this is my city, so you’re stuck with me while you’re here.”

“Fair enough.”

You raised an eyebrow at him. “Really? No arguments?”

“It’s your city. You know it better than I do, but first…”

He walked away from you and toward a couple of vans that were parked at the far end of the parking lot. There was nothing particularly eye catching about the vehicles. They were a bit dirty, but they were still the classic white van you had grown up hearing about and told to be wary of.

Batman approached the first one. He pulled open the doors and stepped inside. The inside of the van was lined with crates. Not any old crates though. Gun crates. Your city’s port meant that the illegal gun trade came through more often than not. You liked to think that you were on top of things, but you hadn’t heard of this deal happening. And what was Batman’s interest in it? You swore that Gotham had enough gun crime of its own to keep him busy.

“Not enough gun deals to bust in Gotham?” you asked. You were leaning against the doorway.

“If I’m right, which I’m sure I am, these aren’t the guns you’re thinking of.” 

“Cocky much?”

He ignored you as he grabbed ahold of one of the crate’s handles. He pulled it out of the van. You jumped backwards as the damn thing almost landed on your feet as it hit the ground.

“Hey!” 

“Sorry, but you were in the way.” 

Batman grabbed a crowbar and used it to open the crate. You were expecting the same type of guns that you had already dealt with. Instead there was something frightfully familiar. 

It was about the same size as the semi automatics, but it wasn’t anywhere close to be like one. It was an exact replica of the same gun Lex Luthor had on his mech. Kryptonite included. 

Batman’s frown had grown immensely. He crouched and looked the guns over, before he looked back toward the vans. You didn’t need to be inside of his head to know what he was thinking.

There was enough guns here to outfit a small militia.

Even behind bars, Lex continued to plot different ways to kill Superman. But this wasn’t Metropolis.

“Why would they be here?” 

“I believe they’re being manufactured here.”

You scoffed. There was no way. Surely you would have known that weapons that could kill one of your teammates being manufactured in your own city.

“Don’t beat yourself up over it. I wouldn’t even know if it hadn’t been for what we found with Quinn,” he told you.

Admittedly, that did make you feel better.

“What are we supposed to do with them?”

He hummed. “Batcave’s too far and the zeta tubes are down for maintenance.”

“My place isn’t too far. You could store them there until you can ship them back to the Watchtower,” you suggested.

He looked up at you, the lenses of his cowl widening slightly. He hadn’t been expecting that. That much was clear. A hero’s place of operation was, more often than not, also a private sanctum. A place to wind down from a stressful night or week of never ending problems. You had never been to the Batcave and you were sure you never would set foot inside. After all the relationship you shared with the man in front of you hadn’t exactly been a great one. Yet here you were. Offering up your own sanctum.

“You’re sure?” he asked. 

“Since your cave and the Watchtower are currently out of the question, and I wouldn’t trust the cops as far as I could throw them, it just leaves us with my place. Besides, anything to make sure that these guns don’t end up on the streets.”

Batman nodded, accepting your explanation. He took his time with the vans though. Looking over each and every crate for any potential tracking element. He had no worries about the radiation from the Kryptonite, as the crates were lead lined, therefore making it impossible for them to be tracked that way.

Whilst he did that, you checked the men over for the keys for both vans. As you fished out a set of keys, the man you were hovering over began to groan. You backed up from him and looked around. He was the only one waking up and since he had the keys, indicating he had been in charge of driving one of the vans, there was a could chance that he would know where the guns were being manufactured. After all he had to pick them up from somewhere.

Batman clearly had the same thought process as he breezed past you. He grabbed the man by his shirt and effortlessly lifted him up. 

“Wake up!” he commanded. It was surprisingly effective as the man’s eyes flew open and he immediately began to struggle and claw against the grip Batman had on him.

“Please! Don’t hurt me!” 

“I won’t as long as you tell me where you got the guns,” he growled.

“The gun factory! Just outside the city! But there ain’t no one there now!”

“Then. Where. Are. They?” His voice was dangerously low. You had no idea a person’s voice could get so low. If you had no idea who he was, you might think he would kill the man. 

“We were supposed to go to the airport! That’s all I know! I swear!”

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Batman swiftly knocked him out and left him in a heap in the floor. Harsh.

“Come on. We’re running out of time,” he said.

You chucked him a set of keys and led him back to your base.

The vehicle entrance to your base was a couple of blocks away from your actually apartment building. It was connected by a concrete tunnel. You weren’t sure of the original purpose, but it was off the books and served your purpose well enough for the time being.

Now it was no Fortress of Solitude or Batcave, but you liked it. It was made up of several rooms. The garage, an armory, your main area and even a bedroom. The main area housed your computer, gym, lab and med-bay. 

With the vans secured in the garage, you set about getting your one motorcycle out and checking it over. It wasn’t the biggest one in the world, but it would still seat two. At least, you hoped it would. Batman was far larger than the average man.

Once it was fueled and ready to go, you entered the main area. Batman was looking the med-bay over. Specifically, the medicine cabinet. He was frowning.

“You need to stock stronger painkillers and some of these antibiotics are out of date,” he told you, like it was totally normal to be going through someone else’s medicines.

“Thanks? I’ll try to keep that in mind. The motorcycle is all ready to go.”

“Then let’s go.”

You expected him to take control of the motorcycle, leaving you to awkwardly sit behind him and hold on to him. Instead he insisted that you take control of it. Was this the result of the conversation you’d had with him? He was now biting his tongue and giving up control? 

Had he, in the few hours since you last saw him, been body snatched? You weren’t able to ask since you still hadn’t brought up that you knew who he was and right now seemed like a bad idea. 

The motorcycle rumbled to life beneath you. Your body tensed as soon as his hands came into contact with your waist, as he settled onto it behind you. If he noticed, he didn’t say anything about it.

You really shouldn’t be this stiff. You wouldn’t be if it was Hal or Oliver. Of course, they were both in committed relationships and you hadn’t slept with either of them.

The city blurred past you both as the motorcycle raced through the streets. You really hoped that you would reach the airport sooner rather than later so that he could take his hands off of you.

The airport was bustling with activity. Which was to be expected during the holidays. Where did you even begin to look?

Fortunately you had Batman perched behind you, who already knew. He directed you away from the main airport and toward the private hangers.

He was right.

On the runway was a cargo plane. There were a couple more white vans, which were in the process of being unloaded onto said plane, and a black SUV. The crew of men unloading the vans was a skeleton crew versus the one you and Batman had dealt with earlier. They would be easily dealt with. 

The SUV certainly stood out. Was the person that Lex had put in charge of this operation within? There was only one way to find out.

You and Batman flew into action immediately. Taking full advantage of the element of surprise that you currently had. 

You sped the motorcycle up, headed straight for the men who were carrying crates between the vans and the cargo plane. Behind you felt Batman shift his position. A hand came to rest on your shoulder and the back of the motorcycle grew heavier. 

“Go for the plane, we can’t risk it taking off. I’ll deal with the men out here.”

It was a sound plan. One that you had no disagreements with. You adjusted the direction so that you would pass by the men carrying crates and head up into the plane.

As you passed them, the weight on the back disappeared. Batman launched himself at one of them, tackling him to the ground as the man yelled in surprise. 

That was all that you saw of that fight as you entered the plane.

You slammed on the breaks and, as the motorcycle slid into some crates, you leapt from it yourself. You landing was better than you thought it was going to be. There was no time for you to be impressed with yourself though as a thug rushed you.

You dodged the punch he threw at you and followed up with your own. It connected with his jaw. A tooth clattered to the floor. Blood spilled from his mouth.

“You fuckin’ bitch!” he shouted.

He pulled out a knife and slashed at you. At least it wasn’t a gun. He was faster with the knife than he was with his fists. It kept you on your toes. You dodged each slash. Narrowly avoiding several of them that came way too close for your liking. You needed to wait for an opening. 

It came sooner than you thought it would. As fast as he was with the knife, he wasn’t exactly in his prime anymore. He got winded quickly. Which gave you the perfect opportunity. Your foot came into contact wit his hand, sending the knife flying. You followed up with your other foot, kicking him right in the face.

The thug hit the ground. Knocked out cold.

You weren’t given a moment of respite. Two more men came rushing into the cargo hold. Lady luck seemed to be on your side right now as neither of them had a gun in hand. The only weapons they carried was a pipe and a crowbar.

They charged at you. You dodged the first couple of swings and counted with your own. They were far more coordinated than you had been expecting. They dodged each of your punches and kicks. The pipe came in contact with your ribs. Pain exploded across them, making you grunt. Fuck, that didn’t feel good.

Breathing was now painful, but you had to push through it. You dodged and counted them. You felt them doing their best to wear you down and it was starting to work. You needed to finish this quickly.

After dodging another slew of attacks, you dropped a smoke pellet. The men coughed violently as smoke filled the cargo hold. Using it to your advantage, you disarmed both men and, using the pipe against them, knocked them unconscious.

With the plane secured, you began to make your way out of the plane. You would come back for your bike once you were sure everything had been secured.

As you stepped back onto the tarmac, you were just in time to see the door to the SUV slammed shut and the engine roared to life. You were too far to do anything. 

“Batman! The SUV!”

His head snapped up from where he stood over the unconscious bodies of the men that he had taken out. He gritted his teeth as he sprinted for it. The wheels of the SUV screeched as it took off. Batman slid to a stop, pulled a batarang out of his utility belt and threw it. 

The batarang burst the wheel it came into contact with. The driver lost complete control over the vehicle and it flipped several times before coming to stop.

You rushed over with Batman. He got there first and already had the unconscious driver pulled out. It was a woman in a suit. A purple velvet suit. 

No…

There was no way…

But it wasn’t like you could exactly deny what you were seeing. No matter how much that you desperately wanted to. You felt your heart breaking.

Erica. The woman who had been your best friend for essential your entire life. The woman that you trusted with your identity and to make your gear was working with Lex Luthor?

You had stopped in your tracks. Even going as far as to take a couple of steps backwards. Putting distance between you and her.

Your throat felt tight and you felt pressure building up behind your eyes. It already hurt to breathe and this made it worse.

Batman noticed immediately. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You shook your head. “I know her… and she knows me.”

The revelation had certainly shaken you down to your very core. While Batman was making sure that everyone was tied up and not going anywhere, you were doing your best not to have a panic attack while you second guessed every last little thing. 

From the moment you had decided to trust her with your identity to the newest suit that she had made you. Had she known it wouldn’t stop that bullet? Had getting you killed been her plan? You didn’t know anymore. The girl you had grown up with was now a complete stranger to you.

You were currently sat on a stack of crates as you internally melted down.

A hand came to rest on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. It halted your thoughts for a moment. You looked up at Batman. Even with the cowl and lenses, you knew he was giving you a sympathetic look. Maybe he wasn’t so different with the mask on.

He surprised you further as he pulled you up off of the crates and pulled you in for a hug. His grip on you was loose and he gave you plenty of opportunity to pull away, but you decided to accept it. 

Batman’s arms wrapped around you and he held you close. You didn’t cry. You were still far too shocked to cry right now. You certainly appreciated the hug. It felt good. Even if it was from Batman.

You pulled away from him after a couple of minutes, wrapping your arms around your body. 

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“Of course. I have to ask, did you tell her anything else?”

You shook your head again. “Of course not. She only knows about my identity. But I guess it’s easy to figure out who the rest are because of that. Which means everyone else is probably in danger now.” 

You waited for him to agree. Maybe even raise his voice and have a go at you for your mess up. He didn’t though.

“We can fix it,” he said.

You looked at him like he had grown another head. “What? How?”

Your question was quickly answered when Martian Manhunter showed up.

“Using his abilities, Martian Manhunter can wipe you from all of her memories, and adjust others, so that there’s absolutely no trace of you,” Batman explained.

“Wipe and edit her memories? Isn’t that unethical?” you asked. 

“Perhaps, but considering the entire League is currently in danger of potentially having our identities outed, it’s a measure we’re going to have to take.”

You nodded. It made sense. Even if you didn’t feel exactly good about it.

“I understand.” You turned to J’onn. “Can you wake her first? I need to… confront her first.”

“Of course,” he replied.

You and J’onn split from Batman, who wanted to go through each crate to check for more guns and any other weapon that could potentially be a danger to the League. 

Batman had tied her to a metal chair that he had found sitting just outside of the hangar the plane had been in. Considering the crash, he had already looked her over for any serious injuries. She had none. Only a few scratches here and there.

Your gut twisted with anger as you looked her over. Was she even the person you had once known anymore? 

As she began to wake up, J’onn moved away and returned to Batman to help him out.

You watched Erica closely. She groaned as she blinked her eyes, clearly confused. She looked around, her brow furrowed. As soon as her eyes landed on you, they widened and she looked like a deer caught in headlights.

“No. No! You’re not supposed to be here, you’re supposed to be–”

“Sleeping with someone?” you cut her off. “Is that why you pushed me towards him? So that I maybe wouldn’t find out about this?” You gestured toward the plane and the crates. “I… I trusted you and this is how you repay that? By working with Lex Luthor?”

“It’s more complicated than that,” she said.

You shook your head. “What about my suit then? You know the one that nearly got me killed because it failed to stop a bullet? Or was that on purpose?”

She spoke your name, her voice cracking. “I promise you that wasn’t on purpose! There must be a defect in the weave that I didn’t see. Please, you need to believe me!”

“How can I? For all I know you’ve told Lex everything and you’ve put my teammates in danger! What do you think those guns are for? To tickle Superman? Those end up on the street, he gets killed!” 

Erica wasn’t looking at you anymore. Her gaze focused on her feet as tears streamed down her face. Your own tears were threatening to fall, but you were forcing them back. You weren’t going to let her see you cry.

A silence stretched out between you before you decided to break it.

“Why?” 

She looked up at you again. Erica looked remorseful, but was that because she had been caught? Would she have felt the same way if she hadn’t been caught and Superman had been killed?

“I’m going to lose the company. We’re running out of money faster than we can make it and I’m going to have to file for bankruptcy. Lex promised me he could save it…”

“If you made weapons to kill Kryptonians? You could have called me, Erica. I might have been able to help! There’s so many more ways you could have handled this instead of getting into bed with Lex Luthor!”

You turned away from her as you felt the first tear force its way from your eye. She begged you to turn back around and talk to her, but you ignored her.

“Goodbye, Erica.”

As you walked away from her, a strange sensation of a presence invading your mind washed over you. You relaxed as you knew exactly who it was.

“You’re good to go.” 

You reentered the cargo plane to retrieve your motorcycle. The paint on it was now scratched up, but that was the only damage you saw on it. As you wheeled it out, Batman was waiting for you at the bottom of the ramp.

“FInd any more guns?” you asked.

“No. These were decoy crates, likely going to be used to fool the authorities on the off chance the plane was searched.”

“That makes sense. Do you need anymore help tonight?”

“I shouldn’t do. Once he’s done, I’ll be contacting the police and then calling it a night.”

“Yeah, I think I need to call it a night myself. I’ve got an appointment with a wine bottle.”

Batman was frowning as he looked at you. You didn’t really care if he didn’t like the sound of it. You decided that you needed it and, honestly, you were probably going to fall asleep after the first glass anyway.

You settled back onto your motorcycle and its engine roared to life. You didn’t take off immediately. Instead you sat there for a moment. You still felt his eyes on you, watching you closely. 

“Batman?”

“Yes?”

You took a deep breathe. It was time to rip the band-aid off.

“What would you do if someone found out your identity by accident?”

His frown deepened as he thought your question over. 

“I… It’s never happened. I don’t think…”

“Nevermind then. Just.. hope that your Christmas is better than mine.” 

You didn’t wait for a reply before taking off. If was a official. You were a coward.

Batman watched as you sped off. He replayed your question in his head. Turning it over and over again. In relation to tonight’s events, he really wasn’t seeing the connection. 

What did his identity have to do… His eyes widened. Realisation hit him like a gut punch. Moments from earlier tonight, before he put his mask on, replayed in his head. Seeing you in the ballroom, the internal fight he’d had about whether he knew you or not. The kiss. The resulting freak out and running away. And all because you had figured out who he was.

You knew!?

You knew… 

Fuck.

*

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000

@geminicinderella @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @jdream55 @x-ratedhimbo @sketchiethebear @wandalfnation @batmanwife1 @mari-malgamore @angie2274

[averycutesalamander]

drops this into your inbox yells BOOTHILL refuses to elaborate and leaves

"What do ya mean you're tired, baby?" he croons, a devious tilt to his smirk. "You've barely been goin' for five minutes, and you're already tuckered out?"

"Shut the fuck up," you whine, too lost in your need to sound legitimately intimidating. Your hips and thighs ache ferociously from the motion, but you want to come so desperately that you try to fight the burn; despite the fact that he's the one with his wrists bound in rope above his head, he's edged you for an hour at the very least, bucking into you from below hard enough to make your head spin. Then, he'd slow to a crawl, listening to you beg and babble and whimper as your upcoming orgasm faded into oblivion.

He made a smug comment along the lines of, "I knew you were spoiled, but this is crazy, sweetheart. You're so pampered that ya expect me to do everythin', even when you're the one ridin'. Some cowgirl you are, huh?" And you hate that he knows exactly how to push your buttons, because no matter how hard you fight, it never ends in your favor.

Still, you'd narrowed your eyes and grumbled, "I'll show you spoiled, you smug bastard."

And, naturally, that led you to your current predicament: riding him for any length of time is fucking exhausting.

The hot bursts of pleasure can only override the ache of your muscles for so long, and you haven't even managed to come yet, and god you wish he would just do that thing where he gets tired of your nonsense and flips you over and has his way with you. You suspect that isn't on the menu tonight, though, because he looks perfectly content to utter filth into your ear while he watches you struggle.

"C'mon, doll. It can't be that hard, can it?" he says, and even though your eyes are squeezed shut, you can still see that smug fucking smirk, clear as day. "This is just pitiful, honey. All that big talk, and now ya can't even make yourself come?"

You damn near sob, unable to resist the urge to slump down into the crook of his neck. All you can manage now is the slightest rock of your hips, but the tiny bursts of pleasure as his head grinds into your cervix are mere sparks over damp tinder. Eventually, you can't even handle that motion, and you're left whimpering like a puppy into the cool steel of his neck, panting and quivering and so desperate that you could die.

A shiver runs up your spine when he laughs, his breath hot on your ear. "Poor thing," he coos without a drop of sympathy. "That's all you've got, huh? You're all burnt out?"

"Please," you whine, cutting right to the thick of it, because you already know he's going to make you beg. "Please just fuck me, bee."

He hums in thought, and your neck tingles at the depth of his voice, at the rumble of his chest beneath yours. "Tell me you need me," he says, deceptively light.

"I need you, baby," you keen, caving without hesitation. "Need your cock. Need you to make me come. Please, please-"

"And who do ya belong to?" he growls, just barely nipping at the lobe of your ear.

He just barely grinds up into you, leaving you gasping and moaning. "You! I'm yours, I'm yours, it's all for you-"

You hear the rope snap only half a second before you feel the ruthless grip of his fingers around your hips. In a blink, you're face-down in the pillows, your waist pinned to the mattress, and you feel him starting to slip out of you-

And then he slams home inside of you again, so hard that it punches a moan straight out of your chest. You have only a moment to scramble for a hold against the pillows before he really starts to fuck you, completely prone, with absolutely no hope of escape. His weight prevents you from moving at all, aside from the uncontrollable shuddering that runs through your whole body.

It takes less than a dozen strokes of his hips before you feel the heat rising to a boil once more, curling in your gut, shivering in your cunt. You start babbling and begging and whimpering and god, fuck, you're so close you can feel it in the back of your throat-

The tension snaps, and you clench around him like a vise.

You moan helplessly, shaking like a leaf, hit by wave after wave after wave of pleasure, so thoroughly lost in the undertow that you fear you'll drown. And all the while, his pace doesn't falter in the slightest, dragging it out for longer and longer, and finally, you start to feel the brutal burn of overstimulation creep in.

Your moaning turns ragged and tense, your voice breaking under the pleasure. "Oh- Oh, fuck, this is- It's too much-"

"Well, you're gonna have to cry about it, doll," he purrs, sounding far too pleased with himself. "If I'm doin' all the work, it's only right that I take however much I want from ya, right?"

His next thrust is cruel in its intensity - so ruthlessly efficient that you almost wail. Already, you can feel another peak building in your gut, leaving you shivering underneath him as he takes, and takes, and takes.

He laughs, dark and smoky in your ear. "Yeah, I knew you'd agree, sugar. Now sit still and take it like a good girl, won't ya?"

(It's not like you have any other options.)

[thethronezone]

High Consort to the Emperor

There's not enough Emperor x Reader content *rolls up my sleeves* Guess I have to do it myself.

First of all, I think the only way he would get into an actual, long term relationship would be if the other person were a perpetual. Like, he don't wanna invest time and effort and emotions into a person that is going to die of old age after, what, 200, 300 years? He did that shit when he was younger and that always hurt. He ain't doing that again.

Even if you are a perpetual though that's lived for thousands of years he's always going to act slightly patronizing towards you. He always thinks that he knows best and any arguments you have is simply seen as a tantrum on your end. He'll just wait until you've calmed down and come to your senses.

Partner is given the title of High Consort. Very neat title, all the benefits and you probably don't have to do any actual work. Maybe act nice and polite in front of high ranking officials but that's it. Of course, if you want to work then Big E ain't gonna stop you. In fact, he'll be happy that you're so invested in the Imperium! Here's some paperwork and administrative duties to keep you busy. Yeah, he mostly sees this as a way to keep you entertained and feeling useful.

You'll have anything you could ever think of. Any food, any clothing, any luxury. The Emperor says he doesn't like to spoil you but after returning from a long mission or whatever, he will always bring you something. Mostly just so he can show off and impress you. The man has a massive ego, what did you expect? For a guy that refuses to be called a god, he sure loves it when you worship him.

Rarely calls you your actual name, at least in public. Calls you a mixture of "Consort", "my Consort", and if he's feeling playful/flirty, "my star". Only really calls you your name behind closed doors, when it's just the two of you (plus any Custodian that might be there, he don't give a fuck).

Matching outfits! At least, you're matching him. Always some kind of gold in your outfits, be it golden threads or gold jewelry. Of course you also wear a laurel.

Likes having you by his side but can go for longer periods without your company, simply because he knows he will eventually see you and catch up. And by 'longer periods' I mean months, years, DECADES. He's a busy man, alright? Always acts like it's been no time at all since he last saw you when you finally reunite. After all, what is time for a man that is immortal and has lived for tens of thousands of years?

You have your own Custodi bodyguard that follows you everywhere. They were not chosen just for their skill but also because the actually know how to hold a conversation like a normal person. Are they still a brainwashed superhuman with unquestionable loyalty to the Emperor? Sure, but when you ask them how they are feeling they don't automatically go "Feelings are irrelevant, only service to the Emperor of Mankind matters" like majority of the Custodes do.

The Emperor prefers it when you stay in the Imperial Palace. Does he stop or forbid you from leaving? No, you're a grown person, you can make your own decisions. WILL have you followed however. Not because he doesn't trust you but he's got so many enemies that it would be stupid to assume no one would target you in order to get to him.

Malcador the Bestie! Will listen to you vent about your love life and then give you some solid advice. Is the advice slightly biased because he wants you to get along with the Emperor (which has proven to increase the man's effectiveness and willingness to collaborate by a staggering 1.4%)? Maybe, but it's still solid advice! Also brings you the best gossip.

[theemporium]

Christmas baking with max my darling please and thank you xo @postracehair

whatever thanks for your requesting i guess🫶🏽🙄

.

“I don’t think this is enough chocolate chips.” 

You didn’t even need to turn your head, already reaching over to smack his hand away as your eyes continued to read the recipe on your phone. “It would be enough if you stopped eating them all.” 

“Well, that was something that should have been taken into consideration when the recipe was made,” Max retorted.

“I don’t think having a hovering boyfriend was something the baker who wrote this recipe had in mind,” you mused, turning to find him eyeing up the bowl of chocolate chips still. 

“I’m not hovering, I’m helping,” Max insisted because that was his original intention when he wandered into the kitchen before you began. “I cracked the eggs!” 

“And you did such a good job, baby,” you assured him, leaning in to kiss his cheek. It was endearing the way his face instantly brightened. 

“I thought you said everyone was bringing store bought stuff anyways,” Max commented absentmindedly, settling in behind you as he hooked his chin over your shoulder so his eyes could also scan over the recipe on your phone. 

“They are,” you murmured, your brows furrowed as you skimmed over the steps. “But, I don’t know, it’s Christmas, you know? It would be nice to have something homemade too.”

You could feel Max’s smile against your skin as he placed a kiss on your shoulder. “How thoughtful of you.” 

“Don’t patronise me,” you murmured, smiling a little when you felt Max laughing behind you.

“Never,” he grinned. “Wouldn’t want to hurt my chances of getting a cookie after you’re done.”

You tilted your head back to look at him. “Only if you make us both hot chocolate.” 

“Deal,” he nodded, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before he began moving around the room.

As much as you loved your boyfriend, patience wasn’t always his virtue. You liked to think it came from the fact he was a racer, that he was so used to everything being fast paced and imminent that he didn’t know how to slow down and wait. It went against everything he knew and loved. 

It was why cooking with him always ended up being an ordeal, Max insistent that he knew better than the recipe and turning up the heat higher than intended, just for the food to almost burn or even reach a point beyond repair.

You honestly assumed baking would fall under the same category, but you were pleasantly surprised at how seriously he took baking. 

Or, as serious as Max Verstappen could get. 

“Baby,” you choked out between laughs, looking at the array of cookies he was in charge of decorating.

“What?” Max asked innocently, as though his eyes weren’t crinkling with mischief. “It’s Christmas ornaments! Attached to a bit of rope!” 

“It’s a dick,” you deadpanned.

“A festive dick,” Max corrected, looking far too pleased with himself as he continued. “Jingle Balls!” 

“You’re such a dick,” you grumbled between your own laughter, letting him tug you close as he reached for you. 

“A festive dick?” He asked in a teasing voice.

“I swear to god, if you attach ornaments or bells to your dick the next time we have sex, I am breaking up with you.”

Max only laughed louder in response.

.

[tillsfan]

my interpretation of what Till’s flower art means to him!

before the patreon post, i wrote down my interpretations of the flowers for each character (except mizi and luka, as i hadn’t gotten to them). i might share the rest eventually. this is a really long rant Since i think about till an insane amount.. this is mostly just me rambling

the edelweiss.

love, courage, bravery, devotion, purity, strength, resilience. a flower that is difficult to obtain due to it growing in the toughest conditions, though it thrives. “delicate yet hardy.” they’re used as a gift of selfless and pure love. in folklore, there’s a story of a man risking his life to climb a mountain and obtain the flower to gift to his love, symbolizing sacrifice and devotion. there’s also a story of a queen who fell in love with a shepherd, but he was thrown to his death, and her tears blossomed the edelweiss.

till’s existence is a product of love. he had loved and had been loved all his life. he symbolizes such pure, raw love, having been the only character to experience love prior to anakt. maternal love, the most unconditional and pure bond. he craves that freedom he’s felt before, his resilience keeping him going.

till is a strong and pure of heart character. despite the tough living conditions he was subjected to, he always stayed true to himself, never letting the segyein keep him down. he was the only person to constantly defy the segyein despite all the punishment and abuse. he goes against them whenever he possibly can, outright killing an alien in round 2. he’s a symbol of bravery and courage.

till has been devoted to mizi all his life, going as far as to sacrifice his own freedom in order to continue “protecting” her. he also directly faced an alien in front of her, to protect her and show that he won’t let the segyein hurt her. the first tale i presented reminded me of how till feels towards mizi, persevering through the toughest conditions in order to demonstrate his pure love. despite all his love for her, he simply admires her from afar, which in my mind pushes the ‘devotion’ aspect, like a believer devoted to a god.

the second tale reminds me of till both after mizi’s disappearance and ivan’s death. we saw how till acted after mizi. till heavily grieved, nearly unable to hold himself together. he was willing to throw his life away because of how hard it was to live without her. and round 6, i tend to believe ivan’s death was when till finally realized how he felt. i believe this because of the wedding theme round 6 is supposed to hold. ivan’s sacrifice successfully shifted the narrative of the story, the kiss symbolizing their lives linking. but as soon as this happened, ivan’s life came to an end, leaving till to grieve.

the fact that edelweisses are difficult to come by because they’re in such isolated places also reminds me of how till was constantly locked up for his behavior. this can also represent till’s severe struggles with avoidance. he kept both mizi and ivan at a distance all his life, isolating himself from them emotionally as he heavily fears intimacy for a multitude of reasons.

till is the only one with chains surrounding him, which can symbolize a couple of things. the immediate thought i had was how he was constantly oppressed by the segyein, locked away and forcibly dehumanized all throughout his life. being tied down was his norm, and he got the most reprimand from it. this can also symbolize his emotional isolation, as i stated previously. besides this, i’m not too sure what the chains could represent here.

a thing i should mention is that edelweisses are actually mentioned in unknown till the end… how cool

this isn’t my most in depth analysis, i was mostly just dumping my thoughts.. let me know if you’d like to see the thoughts i had on ivan, sua, or hyuna’s flower art!

[thelocalconstellation]

Something I'm Very aware of is the way Branzy always seems to slip under the radar, no, he's not a strong combatant, maybe he can't seem to weave webs of lies so elaborate and well said that he can control people enough to keep them off his back, but I will always say that I think he's got the hearts of the people. He's harmless enough that people will run right by him without a second thought, harmless enough in practice that people can cross him and doubt he'll actually get his promised vengeance, he seems harmless enough to be an easy target.

Like one might assume an angel dropped into hell to be.

But what I'm overly aware of because it's such an interesting character trait, is that there's that underlying bloodlust. There's that desire to be seen as a threat. It's the fact that he can trap people and pull out redstone contraptions that are just insane actually (I had to figure out how that fucking roulette wheel was built, and my design is undoubtedly more spaghetti-ish and far more complicated than Branzy's was, but By Fucking God. As somebody who built that. No.) I mean. look at the death carnival! He wants so badly to be dangerous, he Knows that he's a target and he's sided up to Clown, somebody who is dangerous but there's also that hint of the fact that Branzy seems to enjoy playing with fire sometimes.

Which. Because he's harmless, at least in most conventional situations, people forget that Branzy likes being a threat.

So that also explains the fallen angel branzy headcanon.

But uh. Yeah. He goes in as an angel and the betrayal of Vitalasy was probably part of the tipping point, the other part being Spepticles murder, but it's the second time around that he's proper condemned by whatever god he was to follow.

I think it's interesting to imagine that from Vitalasy's perspective too though. Because your ally, who you likely knew wasn't entirely harmless, but you knew wasn't exactly the strongest player on the server, has ended up in cahoots with Clownpierce. The evil murder clown. the guy who could hunt most of the server and plan his way on top- the guy who. just does not give up. And your ally, this angel who has managed to land on this server, the angel on your team whose wings have been slowly tinting more and more grey, is helping that murder clown. And then you're invited to the funhouse your friend has helped with. And you probably suspect for a moment that this is a trap, but that's your friend who has helped build it- he hasn't warned you not to go, and it's Clown, even if it is, he's just going to hunt and kill you anyways. So you go! And you see your friend so cheerfully explain the system, getting that kind of finnicky he always has when people activate his redstone when that's his thing to do, and you think that maybe it'll be okay!

And then it's not. And then you're falling, and you keep falling, and that murder clown your friend has been helping is down there. And you're being chased and hunted and he didn't warn you. And even as you die, he apologizes, he says he's sorry, and he says "surely you understand- working with- with a murder clown!" and you don't. Because how could you? How could he think you'd understand when you don't really understand his choice to work with the murder clown in the first place. And you die there. And he's still saying sorry. But if he was, would he have done it to begin with?

And next time you see him, that angel that was on your team, that angel who managed to get this far on lifesteal, it takes a minute for you to find his wings again, they're so dark. It's clear he's fallen. And you wonder, even if only for a minute, if Clown did this. If Clownpierce did something to him- dragged him down this path and so fundamentally changed who he is.

And on that note.

I like to think that Clown, for a moment, was almost scared he did- was almost scared that he was at fault for Branzy's baseline change in what he was. I like to think that when the horns were coming in, Clown, entirely- oh so human, one of few on the server, somebody who had managed to hide that fact so well many thought he was a demon for a period of time, was scared that he was at fault for this. And Branzy just looks at him and tells him that Clown didn't do this to him, it was a long time coming. Branzy was just waiting to find that tipping point for his god and he considers it a kind of freedom because he can finally disregard the expectations from his god. Branzy- hazy through the fact that horns growing in when you're this old and have definitely pissed off at least one deity- thanks him for giving him that freedom. Clown is just glad that slight worry doesn't haunt him anymore.

Now? After Falling, the rest of the server probably Knows of his penchance for chaos- Knows of his break from whatever morals he might have had left- the morals they thought he had. Branzy... hasn't changed. And nobody understands that except Clown. Branzy is still the same person, usually worried about Something or other, penchant for chaos and making traps, harmless as he was. Well. Except for the sudden acquisition of a murder clown he has wrapped around his finger, but when the clown isn't around, he's practically harmless. And it takes a little bit for people to figure that out. And then he's back to being seen the same way he was. And people forget just when he fell, people forget he Fell at all, sometimes. Sometimes they just think that he was always like that, he was an angel maybe? Who knows!

Branzy is still good ol' Branzy. never thought to expect him to slip poison into your cup, but he might just do it anyways!

Clownzy but its human Clownpierce and angel (Fallen angel) branzy. Something about in the funhouse era between the casino portion and after the betrayal of vitalasy Branzy who has been slowly sliding out of the gods domain finally crosses that unseen line and the feathers that were going from the grey they turned as soon as he joined lifesteal to a pure vantablack shade. Something in Branzy having that small measure of power left to him not knowing, never wanting to or caring to use it, being free enough from whatever expectations his god may have held still disregarding the gifts he was left with, but Clown, all the bloodlust and lingering threats and danger that he can be being so completely human. Something about the impressiveness of that skill especially in comparison to the inherent power that was deliberately never used in an act of spite.

Something in the opportunity for Ash to look Branzy in the eye, knowing that those horns weren't there three weeks ago, knowing that the last time Branzy molted, those feathers were a grey, now dark enough you can't make out the individual feathers anymore, the chance for Ash to know all that, look Branzy in the eye and ask if he's being held hostage. The question of "what did he do to corrupt whatever might have survived this server- what did he do to make you Fall?" When Branzy wasn't dragged down by Clown his morals were never changed by his sudden associate. Branzy was always like that. Clown just gave him the freedom- the protection enough from the rest of the server to actually show it.

Something about worship, I think.

[joysmileyay]

save me save me i wanna be you save me i cant save myself cause i could never be you ill keep waiting and pretend i could

[vaggieslefteye]

HUSK, Hotel Bartender & Concierge | 1x04 - Masquerade

"Oh, I FORGOT — you're the wise-old bartender who's seen it all! Get the fuck over yourself and pour me a real drink."

[acid-ixx]

— masterlist !

every time i think about my series (again &. again), and the reader's fear towards the color green (or anything associated with damian, their half brother), i think about just how more painful it would be if you share the same features with him that he shares with bruce that amps up the angst element.

it doesn't have to be any major features, it could be small, but noticeable. something that has you reeling in yourself.

maybe it's the shape of your fingers or your brows, the plump of your cheeks, or maybe how your skin flushes the same way his does. maybe it's the way your eyebrows furrow like him, or the quirk of your lips whenever you smile a shadow of his smirk.

it doesn't matter because the more you look, the more you notice.

and the more you remember his glinting, green eyes standing by the arch of your doorway, menacingly watching over your shifting, paranoid body; ready to strike at you like you're prey, ready to eliminate your undeserving presence in the manor.

and of course, it's not a big deal, but for an overthinker like you, someone who's always trying to overcorrect, forcing yourself to not be associated by your family— cutting off every interest, or object, any damn thing that reminds you of them; sharing similarities with appearances, something so intimate, something that could've been just yours, with your youngest brother no less, your tormentor, just makes you want to rip that part of your body to seams.

it inadvertently makes you wish you were never bruce's child, too.

just so you could never see damian in yourself, just so your heart doesn't hasten every time you look in the mirror and find yourself staring at those features for hours. until the image of yourself twists into him, until you're the exact copy of the assassin, of the demon child, of the boy you have to unfortunately call your brother.

and every time you do so, there's a haze fogging inside your head, there's this sickening urge to hurt yourself, to change your appearance even if it's a part of your that cherishes the image of your mother too— if it means taking away the unwanted stems that remind yourself too much of him.

the truth is, you don't hate him, or rather you can't bring yourself to, out of pure, convoluted fear.

you despise the way he makes it feel like there's spiders crawling in the back of your throat, or how your body automatically locks up at the slight mention of his name.

even if you see him as just that, a young boy raised to be corrupted; his youth doesn't disregard the fact that he is the incarnate of danger, the same boy who threatened to end your life at first meeting. whose words cut sharper than blades, whose sword is perched on his back; an unspoken promise to cut more than the skin of your neck if you dare try to fight back.

that even though he's significantly younger, he still holds too much power, enough to destroy your life for something you couldn't even control— your inability to be like them.

you don't hate him, you can't.

but it's easier to hate yourself for it instead.

because if it's so hard to despise him, then it's better to blame yourself for your shortcomings. if you fear looking at yourself, the shadow of your features distorting into damian, then you deserve to feel it.

if your hands find themselves ripping at your hair (the strands, god, the ends of your hair reminds you of the spikes of his, you want to die), then let it hurt you, let it destroy your being until you're nothing but dim, sunken eyes and blood-soaked clothes. let the hatred fester to the point your body transforms into an alien-like appearance just to forget him.

it doesn't register within you just how much you're subjecting yourself to the same tortures you were forced upon in that putrid manor.

the same way you let the torment living in that cage repeat like a cycle, again and again, never truly moving on from your past; a sick narrative you're never escaping from.

after all, you can never run away from the past. it bites you back, with the same, or even stronger force, until all that controls you is fear.

fear that forces you to look in the mirror, stare at yourself, nitpicking every notable feature in your face, in your body, that reminds you of them. fear that's enough to turn you emotional in all your good days, that ruins a happiness you haven't felt for a decade, even more.

fear will always control.

damian will always have control over you, he'll always have the upper-hand.

sometimes, the innocent, young boy you try to find behind the exterior of hatred turns out to be a hideous monster all throughout.

unfortunately, you see that monster in you, too.

a/n: we love complicated relationship dynamics!!! i just woke up and was like, "wait, i have an idea." LMAO. idk half of what i wrote, did i eat with this drabble? maybe. ignore my sudden disappearance sometimes, in another life i'm a hermit crab who hides in its shell probably.

— if i wrote damian here to be too "evil," it's because it's written in the perspective of the reader and their trauma. i don't want him to be this one-dimensional character, he's one of my favorites after all, but i need to establish the relationships and writing drabbles like these help a lot in portraying how they see each other. damian sees you in a different light (you make him weak), and you do too— but both see each other in some twisted perspective of loving each other because you're both still siblings at the end of the day (i'm gonna write more about this too).

[moonedman]

All other sagas done in previous or future posts

Thunder Saga

Suffering

Fun fact this song doesn’t have any viola to foreshadow that it’s not Penelope

It does have a lot of piano, which is Athena’s instrument. If that means anything to you guys.

Real fans know Odysseus isn’t a bitch coward

“Take the sufffering from you” by KILLING HIM she’s not wrong though

If i remember correctly odysseus was a boat guy before he was a soldier so this song is so goofy to me [he is NOT afraid of the water}

Manipulation time

“Oh nooo” she is not invested

Manipulating the ocean and direction fixation smh

I can’t imagine watching my captain do this

“The things I do for you” yeah we know you’re going to do anything to get home to your wife.

Different Beast

Hehe the transition

The hiss

Hough ho ho

I’m so insane about this voice acting

“We are the ones that feast now” sirens literally just want a snack this guys never heard of a healthy ecosystem and food chain

Killing them all couldn’t have been good for the fish population

This is going to affect the trout population

“Man made monster” they’re changingggg

Storytime

“No more of us deceased now” boy howdy do i have new for you.

“Can’t take more risks of not seeing my wife” he really lives up to that his life is his priority in a way

He genuinely. Didn’t need to drown them. Also so many of his own men drowned. Like buddy.

“He is the different beast now” switching the lyrics up because. Nobody else could be thinking that. He’s becoming more of a monster than everybody else

Not that it’s a competition

This won’t have any lasting consequences, surely

Scylla

Her vocals are so good

Now is not the fucking time Eurylochus

“Hm I just watched Odysseus ruthlessly kill a bunch of sirens and come back from the underworld a little different. Is that a scary cave we’re going into? Yeah, i need to tell him about the bag”

“Leaving them feeling betrayed” odysseus feeling right now and his crew in two minutes and thirty seven seconds

“Breaking the bonds that you’ve made” same thing they’re betraying each other this will continue to happen

Eurylochus can apologize Odysseus take notes

“We both know what it takes to survive” god i love this song because it’s like Scylla is talking to Odysseus [he’s certainly not talking to his crew may as well talk to Scylla]

“We only care for ourselves” Odysseus rn fr fr

Odysseus you’re so fucked up right now i am insane about you and Eurylochus right now

“Drown your sorrows and fear” odysseus right now and also the end of get in the water

Also. drowning is a very common thing to happen around Odysseus and to himself (he drowns at the end of Get in the Water right that’s what that is i’m not misreading those lyrics and animatics)

“We must to what it takes to survive” laying it on thick that Odysseus is going to end up sacrificing everybody in order to get home.

Eurylochus was going to die in that cave. He was supposed to die in that cage. His brother was going to sacrifice himself along with five others. Instead of the usual “i can talk my way out and find a way out” attitude, he just straight up killed six men willingly.

“We are the same you and I” and Odysseus joining in on the melody? Shoot me dead i love this song it’s easily one of my favorites holy shit

Mutiny

Eurylochus knows Odysseus is a liar and witty. He’s expecting and ready for a lie or elaborate story. Some excuse. And odysseus can’t give him one because what he did was just his plan and final decision

“Six of our friends” one of which was supposed to be him

“Say something” “I can’t” really shows the crew [not just the listener] how far gone he is

Crew backing Eurylochus vocally and literally

“You must carry all the blame” when does the reason become the blame - Odysseus is the reason they’re there in that situation

To an extent

“I am not letting you get in my way” woah buddy. Different beast and Scylla lyrics were really setting that one up.

Perimedes!!

Luck runs out tune

“Relied on wit and then we died on it?” and whooo called it? Eurylochus.

Finally tied to a pole.

What.

Does nobody know their own gods? Like the sun god statue. Golden cows. Hmm. golden cattle being a sun god symbol. Nothing fishy there, right?

So desperate to get home vs giving up

“I need to get home” not we. not them. He does. His life is the only one that really matters to him, deep down.

“We can get home” he’s trying to convince them but we all know this is about him

GOD voice acting i love you

Even after everything they’re still listening to him because they know he’s right

Thunder Bringer

Is he trying to say only he can be proud in the horniest way possible.

He is.

Being able to undress pride in a “I’m stripping away your pride because that’s my job” kind of way

“Pride is a damsel in distress” being a hero and if he’s the only hero he’s the coolest

Word play of “Thunder, bring her” and “Thunder bringer”

God games

He’s holding a lot of gruesome fate and damned weight.

The way everybody throughout the musical sings “please” makes me ill 

His men are watching him become a monster in real time for his wife

I’M ILL ABOUT THEM

Piano? Like Athena?!

I’m so insane about the Ithaca saga do you tumblr people want to hear my full analysis of each song to celebrate

[vaguely-concerned]

Thinking about the symbolic weight of smoking in the TLT universe that comes to the fore in The Unwanted Guest -- the way it moves through from person to person: Pyrrha smoked, and Augustine wanted to impress her in all her stone cold fox MILF James Bond glory (and tbf who wouldn't) so he started too. and even though as far as he knows she's been gone for a myriad and is never coming back, he keeps the habit. Ianthe sees something in the hollowed-out Faberge eggshell of Augustine that resonates with her, all that gilded eloquent emptiness and disdain through the ages, so she picked it up from him to try to emulate it. She picked it up so hard that Palamedes -- the exact spiritual antithesis of the 'smoking! on a space station! what a powermove' ennui Ianthe so admired -- spontaneously unnerded enough to even known how to, simply from a sort of contact contamination of the soul.

G1deon and Augustine sharing a jittery smoke after their near-Harrow experience during soup night, and it's the closest thing to any real sense of brotherhood that remains between them. Pyrrha going ten thousand years dying both literally and for a smoke (and then Camilla sold her fucking cigarettes (for a third of what they were worth, probably Pyrrha's own good, and also more importantly grocery money). what an entirely haunted time to be alive etc.). Augustine and Mercy trading a cigarette back and forth in the middle of their collusion over the love and murder of god.

An act of small and measured self-destruction in the name of something a little bit like connection when you're stuck somewhere in yourself where love itself dares not or cannot tread (ritualized, transmissible)..........

[aro-in-danyl]

Alastor as a "Gift from God" AU part 2

I'll have you know it is very difficult to write from the POV of God so you get Roo instead. I had to look up bible verses for this.

PART 1 here.

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

On the day of the first extermination cleanse.

When the first sinner was slain, Roo felt the soul attempt to rise. A fruitless endeavor, for their sinful deeds in life and in death ensured her roots bound the severed pieces of the soul to her.

Foolish angels, in culling the herd and stifling even the thought of rebellion, they only made her stronger. Roo tightened her vines around the soul and attempted to drag it down, down through the 7 rings, and to her.

Attempted, because before she even got past the Pride Ring, a stronger force yanked the soul upwards. Enraged and in disbelief she tightened her hold around the other souls being slaughtered by the dozens, but each and every time they were ripped from her grasp.

At the end of the day, when the exorcists were flying up and away from the slaughter, the portal to Heaven opened and Roo latched onto the connection and demanded an explanation.

"Have you gone back on your word?" her tone was taunting but her desperation and anger festered, "These souls are mine. Their punishment is meant to be eternal!"

Roo did not expect a response, God had not spoken to her since The Beginning, and God had no foothold in hell - usually. Today, apparently, was an exception.

God spoke to her, "My creations all return unto me in The End regardless. You know I cannot bare to be separated forever."

Roo did not buy this, "What ever happened to 'Depart from me, you who are cursed' was that not written?"

"Said by a King, not I." God refuted.

"But within your holy text." Roo sniped, "You reward their sin, their rejection of you, by accepting them back with open arms?"

"If you think that is what will happen to those who reject me twice, you know me not at all." And perversely, Roo felt relieved at this admission. "The righteous will have eternal life, the sinful - upon second death - nothing."

"And keeping them from me was merely a happy coincidence?" Roo felt emboldened, God must see her as a bigger threat than she thought, "To twist the meaning of your eternal punishment to exclude me, why I'd almost call that a quality worthy of a demon."

The portal, which had only been open seconds, pulsed with the force of God's anger.

Roo laughed. "You fear me enough to risk your angels falling into my grasp once again. Do you think this latest stunt of yours will keep me weak forever?"

"My angels have learned to evade you since then."

"Careful there." Roo feigned concern, "Anymore hubris and I'll have to save you a seat in Pride. I could put you next to your favorite child, wouldn't that be nice?"

God ignored the taunt, "I know your roots grow stronger on Earth. More fall to you everyday. Faster than even my best angels can catch them."

Roo smiled at the admission. To have her work acknowledged by the being who created everything, everything that would someday be corrupted and belong wholly to her.

God continued, "It is a testament to your strength that The End may be sooner than I thought."

Roo stopped cold. Her strength came from corrupting the creations of God, but if there was nothing to corrupt...

Ah. She thought. Nothing truly is an eternal punishment.

"Unless," God hedged. "We come to an arrangement?"

Suddenly the reason for God's desire to converse with her made sense. Here she was, weakened from the loss of over a hundred damned souls, from an event that would become a yearly occurrence. Here God was, with the threat of The End poised upon their fingertips, attempting to force her compliance.

And it was working.

But God had shown their hand too early, "How utterly demonic of you! You want to compromise with me? To reason with me?" She used her roots to trip a flailing exorcist trying to remove its spear from a corpse just because, "What can you offer me?"

"I will not hasten The End before its time." God stated, as if the threat of nothing was enough now that she knew God wanted something from her that they could not get themselves.

"You do not want to destroy everything you've created; you want it even less than I do. What is it you desire?"

The last few exorcists were getting ready to return via the portal, their clothes splatted in shade of red and an abundance of gore. They had yet to develop a tolerance to the violence they were perpetuating. Roo knew, just as God did, that many of the angels after slaughtering their first few sinners, had ripped their helmet off and vomited in disgust and despair.

Roo could feel their shock, their inner turmoil, their sense of righteousness, their loyalty to heaven. With time, and more exterminations cleanses, they would learn to enjoy the bloodshed. Or they would break. Such was the way of war.

"I wish to create a gift for Lucifer," God began, "A gift that will challenge him, embolden him, and remain by his side."

Lucifer! Why did it always come back to him? Around them, the corpses of the damned littered her domain never to rise again, God's angels grappled with the weight of their heavenly duty, and her influence weakened for the first time in decades. And yet it was Lucifer that made God lower themselves to speak with her!

Roo reigned in her rage, "And what does that have to do with me?"

"I am creating something unlike anything I've ever created before." God directed her attention back to the weak angel who'd finally pulled their spear from a corpse, "Immune to angelic destruction. Stronger than a thousand sinners, with the potential to stand against my Archangels, capable of vengeance and retribution."

Roo salivated. "And you're sending it here." Roo let the last of the shattered souls in her grasp go, not even paying attention as it shot upwards and away. "You'd create such a thing and put in my hands the instrument of your demise?"

"Which is why I appear before you. You know sin more intimately than I. So I implore you to cast off a piece of yourself for this gift and I shall do the same."

"And what is this gift?" The exorcist was attempting to clean the gore from the spear and failing. "And why should I give you anymore of myself when you've already taken so much?"

"A human soul."

"You intend to create a soul destined to hell before its first sin and gift it to the being who prizes free will above all else. Do you imagine he will thank you?" Roo didn't care about Lucifer's feelings regarding this gift, she couldn't wait to see the fallout actually, but she couldn't help but point out the obvious.

"No," God said, "he will not. As for you, this soul will bring a new age upon your realm. They will be The Avenger of the worthy. And a nightmare to everyone else."

"Do not repay anyone evil for evil," Roo quoted. "Is that why you need me? You want to avoid going against your own words, so you seek to blame me instead."

She did not give God time to respond, "But you still haven't told me what I gain. What do I care for this promised 'new age' or so-called Avenger when I am still trapped?"

"And that is my bargain," God attempted to comfort one of the angels weeping over a small sinner's corpse but their touch fell short. Seems they did not have power over anything in her realm but exorcised souls, she mused.

"With a piece of us both, this soul will have a direct link to us in a way no fully mortal being has before."

Roo would've gasped if she was capable of breathing, "Speak plainly!"

"They could free you."

"What's the catch? Why would you give them this power?" She could hardly believe it. It was too good to be true.

"You have the chance to be free. But you must convince this soul to do so of their own free will, knowing fully the consequences of your freedom." Roo dismissed this, she was The Root of Sin for a reason, and this soul was destined for her realm anyway.

"You are forbidden from interfering with their life before hell. And you must find this soul yourself once they fall."

A minor setback, but the call of freedom was strong. Still, she was not so blinded by this opportunity that she wouldn't ask, "And what, do you, The Almighty God, gain from this bargain?"

"A hellborn will become your greatest adversary, they will attempt to redeem sinners and remove them from your grasp." The portal to Heaven began to close.

"And should they succeed, your chance to convince The Avenger will begin to close. And you will never know freedom."

"A time limit!" She should've known they wouldn't play fair, "How long?"

They turned her attention to the newly built Tower in the center of the Pentagram. The timer below flipped through the numbers at record speed until it hit 365. "Seven full moons after the clock strikes zero for the last time. Do we have an agreement?"

God's voice was strong as ever, but the portal was now only the size of a quarter. Roo knew manipulation and this reeked of it, how clever of God to wait until the last moment to share all the details when she had so little time to think of it.

"When in hell, you use the proper term." Roo pretended to scold them. She reached out to the fading tendrils of God and sunk her thorns in as deep into the connection as she could.

"We have a deal."

[administer-distractions]

that said the decision to remove elphabas line "it couldn't happen here in Oz" was unforgivable terrible movie 0/10

[biillys]

yo merry christmas i'm thinking about christmas at the hargrove-mayfield's house throughout the years

wanna think about their first christmas together as a family, maybe before neil and susan even got married, or maybe just after. wanna think about what susan got billy for that first december 25th that they knew each other and what neil bought for max. did neil just pass that duty off to susan and stick his name on the from: section of the gift tag or did he put effort in and actually go to the shops and try and find something, specifically for his new step-daughter.

wanna think about the following few christmas' in california where billy never heard from his mom, never even got a fucking christmas card, but max heard from her dad; spending the time between christmas breakfast and christmas lunch on the phone, thanking him for the present he sent in the mail. wanna think about susan listening in, hearing her ex sounding distant and barely focused, agreeing with everything their daughter says, and biting her tongue; half relieved max hasn't picked up on the fact that sam's handwriting and her own is exactly the same, and half mad that sam's willing to take the credit without even blinking.

wanna think about their last christmas in california where they don't even realise it's their last one there; billy hitting his stride in being the worlds moodiest and most hard done by teenager, max following quick in his footsteps. wanna think about how all the gifts hand-picked by susan would be too lame and embarrassing to be thankful for, both kids screwing their nose up at most presents. maybe billy and max exchanging small gifts that christmas becos they haven't been at each others throats all year, only some, and susan thought it would be nice.

wanna think about their first christmas in hawkins, with things still so messy and uncomfortable and rough, but somehow settling into it like it's their new normal. wanna think about it being cold as fuck, none of them prepared for hawkins winters, and everyone walking on eggshells around each other and pretending it's fine. wanna think about max growing up and officially moving into her teenage years and billy counting down the days until he leaves them, adulthood so close yet still so fucking far. wanna think about them all sitting down for christmas dinner and billy barely being acknowledged, things still so tense even though it's been almost two months since everything went to shit, and max forcing out answers every time susan tries to keep the conversation flowing, her doing her best to carry the christmas spirit.

wanna think about a world where there's no living nightmares, no government conspiracies, and no death, but billy still spirals out of control anyway, feeling trapped and cornered in an unfamiliar town with unfamiliar people, his only solution to lash out and fight, anger and violence and distrust being all he knows. wanna think about max coming to the realisation that there's bigger monsters than her asshole step-brother, that maybe billy isn't the start of everyone's problems, just always somehow the end of them. want her to trace the line back to the source and realise neither of them ever stood a fucking chance.

wanna think about a christmas where billy's eighteen and max is fifteen, and they still live on cherry lane, and neil still fucking sucks, and susan still fucking tries, and everything's still awkward, the four of them never quite becoming the family unit their parents try to pretend them to be, but maybe billy and max get along these days, in a way they never could when they were younger, them going from being against each other to realising it's team up or be picked apart.

max gives him a present she saved up for for months, maybe as they're all going to bed, and billy raises an eyebrow at her before sighing and unwrapping it, still too fucking stubborn to be able to say thank you, but somehow brave enough to reach a hand into his room and grab out a present he got for her, and it's unwrapped cos he hasn't wrapped a present since his mom left, so max does her little sister duty and tells him she loves the wrapping and effort he put into it, before actually looking at what he got her, and he walks into his room and closes the door before she can even acknowledge it for the gift it is.

wanna think about billy eventually moving out, but not making it far; too fucking broke to live out his dreams of going home. wanna think about neil clapping him on the back on moving day and telling him he's done good, that this is what growing up is. graduating school, getting a job, moving out, providing for yourself. that's what makes a man. that it was rough there for a while, and he was worried, but he's glad to see his son's shaped up and straightened out finally, thanks to his solid parenting. wanna think about billy having no idea how to react, thinking that's the closest he'll ever get to his dad saying he's proud of him. wanna think about max helping him move and helping him chose a couch, claiming it has to be comfortable enough to sleep on when she crashes there on school breaks. want billy to tell her to get fucked, but buy the couch she picked out anyway.

wanna think about his first christmas out of home, and how how he probably feels indifferent about it at best, and pain about it at worst. christmas was never like the movies growing up, no matter how much susan tried, so it's not like being alone and having no decorations or presents is going to hurt, but he has enough memories of his mum, and a few moments over the years from when max and susan tried, and there's such a build up and fucking atmosphere about it all in hawkins that he can't escape it even if he tried, and he's starting to realise maybe he's really fucking lonely.

wanna think about neil calling him up and billy answering, cos now that they don't live in the same house and billy's finally taking responsibility for his own life, neil's like a whole new person. he wants to do father-son shit like talk about cars, offer advice about fixing the kitchen sink, tell him when to hire someone to fix something and when you should be able to fix something yourself, wants to watch sports games and crack open a beer on a saturday afternoon, and billy makes up reasons to say no most of the time, but sometimes he caves and says yes, cos there's a small part of him that's always wanted this. wanna think about neil calling and asking billy when he's coming over for christmas, saying that susan's cooking his favourite. wanna think about billy not even knowing what his favourite is, but saying he'll be at breakfast by 7:30am before he can stop himself.

wanna think about billy staying 'til afternoon and max raising an eyebrow at him, muttering don't you have a home to go to? while they clean up after lunch, but then neil offers him a beer, so he ignores her, and listens when his dad says he's welcome to stay for dinner, too. wanna think about billy and max smoking a joint out the back while their parents end the day with a christmas movie, and max turns to him and asks him what neil's deal is these days, and billy shrugs her off, too stubborn to look at it all too closely.

wanna think about billy pulling some money out of his wallet cos he has some now, and he didn't have time to get a present, too busy working overtime, but he has cash, so that'll do. wanna think about max handing him a new zippo, then somehow unearthing a whole-ass wrapped present, and when he opens it, it's a set of cheap fake glass cups, becos billy doesn't have any yet and every time she comes over she has to drink something either directly from the bottle in the fridge or remember her own drink bottle, and it's a housewarming gift, asshole, and this isn't my house, billy thinks, this isn't my fucking home, but it's also all he's got, so he finds a place for them in the cupboard above the sink, and max hunts them down the next time she's over first thing.

wanna think about christmas' in their future, when max moves out, when they're in their 20's and 30's, maybe billy keeps coming home, finding an uneasy peace with his dad reserved for special occasions only, the only few times of the year he's willing to lie to himself and pretend things were never as bad as his memories made them out to be, or maybe everything eventually crumbles, and billy finally gets to put some real distance between them, and finally then, he can breathe and stop pretending.

maybe max continues going, her seeing her mom try and so she puts in the effort to try as well, and maybe that works for a while, maybe even a lifetime, but maybe it doesn't, and by the time both her and billy are closer to 30 than 20, the only family they see on christmas is each other, and billy never wraps her presents, and max only gets him practical things, and they drink and bitch most of the time, but it's so much easier to exist in each others space when they don't have to act and pretend and play parts.

[moe-broey]

"I didn't really raise either of you in a gendered way" When I was like 10 or 11 maybe 12 but definitely not 13 yet, one day you asked me if I wanted to try on the wedding dress you married my dad in. I liked playing dress up and I liked hanging out with you, so I said yes. We're in the living room that you would (already have?) marry my stepdad in. You button up the back of the dress, I don't know why this becomes a core memory. You married my stepdad in a sundress, very casual, very small "event", only the barest of minimum people required to officiate and witness the wedding were there. You tell me, "Maybe one day, when you get married, you can wear this dress. Oh, but you don't have to if you don't want to! But, do you want it?" I still have the dress. I'm a man. And I don't think I'll ever marry. "You can get rid of it, you won't hurt my feelings." I can't.