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annwrites · 3 months ago

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⸻ exactly what he needs. part seven. ⸻

· pairing: nate jacobs x fem!reader · type: part of a series · summary: you & nate have a couple wonderful days together, & then your dad comes home. · tags: p in v sex · tw: manipulation, dollification, possessiveness, controlling behavior, alienation · word count: 4,228

After Nate has slipped out of you, he goes into the bathroom and flushes the condom. But when he looks down and sees his cock covered in blood…all he wants is to put another one on and make love to you for the rest of the day.

He’s now claimed the privilege of being your first kiss, your first love, and your first time. All of that now belongs to him. All of you does in general.

The two of you spend the next few hours in his bed, lying together naked with your body lain on top of his. Your head rests just below his chin, while his arms are firmly wrapped around you as he traces the smooth skin of your back with his fingertips.

He thanks you for letting him be your first time, as well as reiterates how much he loves you. And then he says something unexpected: that he can picture sharing a life with you.

You cry again then, and he continues to hold you.

Once you begin quiet, you speak. “Is it always like that?”

He considers a good answer—a poetic one that will only make you fall further and feel like what the two of you have is specially unique, unlike anything else he’s ever had before. Unlike anything most have.

“No. It’s never felt like that before for me. With anyone. Before it was always just…fucking. Just meaningless sex. Two people getting off. That’s all anyone seems to want now. With you it felt like…”

He grows quiet. For a long while.

“It’ll sound fucking stupid, but it felt like two people—two souls—coming together.”

He hopes that you like his answer.

You lift your head, and he can tell by the affectionate look in your eyes that you’ve swallowed it. Hook, line, and sinker.

“It doesn’t sound stupid. I felt it, too.”

You kiss him.

It’s after four before the two of you finally get out of bed.

“Do you want to come help me wash my truck?”

You look up at him and smile. “Sure.”

Fifteen minutes later finds the two of you in his front driveway.

You’re scrubbing down the side of his Dodge, then cold water sprays against your back. You squeal, drop the sponge in your hand, and turn around.

Nate has a large smile on his face and he sprays you again.

“Stop!” You tell him between giggles.

He doesn’t until you’re soaked and he can see through the white t-shirt he gave you to wear.

He picks you up, spins you around, and kisses you. He then proceeds to tell you he loves you over and over, and you decide that this is the best day of your life.

You stay the night at Nate’s again.

The two of you sleep naked side-by-side.

Until you wake in the middle of the night to use the bathroom, and when you come back to bed, he’s awake as well.

You curl into his side and he kisses you, and you kiss him, and then he reaches between your legs and begins to explore with his fingers. He slips one inside of you and finds you to already be pleasantly wet.

You gasp against his lips as he slips another finger inside of you, curling both upwards.

“Do you want to have sex again?”

You nod silently and push your body impossibly closer to his.

He retrieves a condom, slips it over his erection, then positions himself over top of you and eases into your tightness.

He’s still gentle with you, but this time is faster in terms of his pacing.

His skin slaps quickly against yours, and you wiggle your hips to get him as deep inside of you as you can.

You gently tug against his hair, dig your nails into his back, and you fist the sheets underneath you while he pounds away inside of you.

The bed squeaks as your bodies move in tandem.

You wrap your legs around his back, crush your lips against his, then bite your lip as he moves lower, to your neck. “That feel good, baby?”

You nod fervently as his cock slips easily in and out of you.

“You like this? You enjoy having sex with me?”

You nod enthusiastically.

“Mm. Feels, ah.” You kiss him. “So good.”

“God, I want to be inside of you every day.”

You whimper, clenching around him. “We could.”

You like the thought of that: of being naked in his bed with him, his hands all over you, fingers exploring inside of you, his mouth all over your hot, sensitive body. His cock buried between your legs. You had no idea sex could feel—could be—like this.

You don’t ever want to stop. You want him. Every second of every minute of every hour of every day.

“I love you, Nate. I love you,” you whisper between thrusts of his hard cock inside of you.

He pushes your head back and tangles his fingers in your hair. “I love you, Y/N.”

He sits up while keeping his cock between your thighs and he watches you—the look on your face. One of pure pleasure and lust and desire.

He reaches down and rubs his thumb against your swollen red clit over and over until you spread your legs wider.

You’re so wet that it’s now made even your thighs slick with it.

At least he won’t have to worry about wasting money on lube anymore, he thinks.

Eventually, he reaches forward with his other hand and he gently rests the pad of his thumb against your lower lip. “Open.”

You do.

“Wider.”

You oblige.

He slips his thumb into your mouth and you close around it.

“Good girl.”

When you wake in the morning, you’re both sore and tired.

You bury your face in Nate’s side when his alarm goes off.

“Time to get up, angel,” he says. His voice is deep and groggy from lack of sleep, and you like the sound.

You moan and he chuckles.

“I wish I were a housewife right now,” you mumble.

He stills. “Really?”

You cuddle against his chest. “Mhm. At least I could sleep in.”

He likes the idea of that. Very much.

The thought of you staying home all day long and him tracking your every move when you leave in the vehicle he’s provided for you? It’d be utterly fucking perfect. Even at that, he thinks, with delivery and everything being online now, there wouldn’t be much reason for you to go any further than your front door or backyard if you did feel the need to go outside.

You’d be there, safe in your home, cleaning and cooking and organizing, waiting for him to come home to you and fuck the stress out of himself from work after you serve him dinner.

And while he’s unsure exactly how he feels about children, the thought of knocking you up—of you walking around with proof that he’s been inside of you, and that you belong to him as his property—it turns him on.

He has a feeling that you’d be a good mom.

And a perfect little wife for him.

He presses a kiss to your forehead before pulling you out of bed.

Nate borrows his mom’s curling iron and does your hair in soft waves which fall down your back.

He ties a delicate floral choker around your neck, which matches the lavender shirt and jean cut-offs he bought for you, as well as the sandals he’d picked out at the boutique that he slips onto your feet.

He even painted your toes last night before bed. You’d been surprised he was so good at it.

You’re currently seated in the passenger seat of his truck, snacking on a morning pastry, while a small bottle of milk rests in the cupholder.

“After school we’ll stop over at your house and pack a few bags before I take you back to my place.”

You swallow a drink of your milk, then screw the lid back on tightly to prevent it from spilling all over the center of the vehicle.

“Oh. You want me to stay over again?”

He glances to you. “You don’t want to?”

“I do. I just… I don’t want to overstay my welcome. I don��t want your parents to dislike me.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” he says, pulling into the parking lot. “My mom adores you. I think she might actually kill me if I fuck this up.”

You blush. “I’m glad that she does. She seems nice.”

Once Nate has parked, he comes around to your side and opens your door, then unbuckles you, and you don’t even think twice about it.

He then helps you down, and settles your bag onto your back before firmly taking your hand in his. He intertwines your fingers as the two of you head into school.

And the whole while that you walk, you occasionally glance up at him with an adoring look in your eyes and a warm smile on your lips, and you think how lucky and in love you are.

You barely glance in Lexi’s direction as Nate chooses your seats at another table. You do your utmost to ignore her shaking her head at you.

You instead enjoy the feel of Nate’s large, warm hand sliding up your thigh, to the edge of your shorts, and you let him, because you don’t care what other people might think now. They don’t understand what the two of you have. How could they? They’re all shallow, selfish, and concerned with one thing. And while you really, really like having sex with him…it’s different when you’re in bed together.

It’s loving, intimate, and close. Something meaningful and deep.

While you sit there with your arms wrapped around Nate’s and his hand nearly rests over your privates, all he can think is that he’s found your weakness—his consistent way in.

With Maddy, it had been material objects. Whenever his spending money and gifting her nice things slowed, she always warmed to him. She’d behave, even if just for a little while so that he’d get her something from her never-ending wishlist.

She knew how to play along to get what she wanted.

You had been right when you’d said it the other morning: his relationship with her had been transactional. But that had been true on both ends. He bought her nice stuff, and she acted like a trophy that he could fuck in his spare time.

Cassie had been an attention whore, like he’d called her Saturday night.

How many times had she blown up his phone with dozens upon dozens of calls and texts whenever he just needed some time to himself? She expected to be the center of all his attention, and he couldn’t tolerate that level of desperation. While Maddy’s extreme independence had bothered him, since he felt threatened at the fact she didn’t seem to need him, at least he got to have a fucking life of his own with her.

But you? It’s clear that your heart lives between your legs. So long as he gives you sexual satisfaction every now and then—perhaps teases you more often than not to always keep you needy for it so he can give it to you in exchange for you doing whatever he says—you’ll be happy. He knows more than you do about sex. Knows exactly how to play you—how to touch and kiss and speak to you to keep you right where he wants you.

He loves you—it’s not that he doesn’t. Because he does, deeply. So deeply that it actually scares him a bit. But if he intends to keep you permanently, then he has to know you where you’re most powerless against him. And not just in terms of physicality.

Nate begins meeting you at your locker between classes, and he walks you to each as well to ensure no one bothers coming up to you. Not guys, and not Lexi.

He’d seen her heading in your direction between first and second period, and he’d immediately blocked her with his form before leaning down and kissing you. And you immediately melted and whimpered against his lips as he teased you with his tongue.

When he pulled away, she had promptly shot him a dirty look over her shoulder as she walked past. And in that moment, he knew that he needed to move more quickly in getting you to cut her out. That he would need to begin planting ideas in your head that she’ll only try and tear the two of you apart. That he can’t lose you.

You flush, then gently grip his shirt.

“Nate,” you begin, but grow quiet for a moment.

He twines a loose curl around his finger. “Yeah?”

You look up to him from under your lashes.

“Could we…tonight can we…” You trail off again, and he knows exactly what you’re about to ask him for in that sweet, quiet voice.

He cups your cheek. “You want to have sex again when we get home?”

You nod once, twice, three times.

He presses a kiss to your forehead.

Perfect opportunity, he thinks. “I have practice after school and then we have to stop at your place. Remember?”

“Oh, yeah,” you say now embarrassed.

One thing has been on your mind all morning, and running errands isn’t it. “Sorry. Maybe…maybe tonight, then?”

He smirks. “Maybe.”

As you sit on the bleachers, watching Nate practice with the rest of the team, you shoot him the occasional sweet smile.

You feel so…happy; full of love and warmth.

It still seems somewhat surreal.

You’d always been so against the idea of dating in high school for multiple reasons. One being how shallow everyone seems at this age. But you and Nate are different—you’re both mature. You understand one another in a way no one else does.

That shallowness covers many aspects, from boys looking just for one-night stands, to other kids in general not knowing what the hell they want—only that they’re sure that they don’t want it to be long-term. And high-school sweethearts hardly seemed to exist anymore.

You hope that won’t be the case with you and Nate. Even if it seems beyond ridiculous, perhaps unhealthy, even, to have such a deep attachment so early-on. But you want a future with him. Especially now that you know what it feels like to be loved and wanted.

You just…don’t want to have to imagine having your heart broken, then starting all over with someone else. And then there’s the risk of losing them, too.

Nate winks at you from across the field and you blush, then blow him a kiss, and he catches it, just like Friday.

You think of how much you love him.

After practice, Nate meets you on the bleachers, and he slides his hand between your legs and gives you a kiss before you stand.

You hold firmly to his hand as he leads you to his truck and you tell him that he looked really good on the field.

Meanwhile, he can only imagine how soaked your panties are.

When Nate pulls up to your house, his entire demeanor changes. He tenses up and his hand squeezes your thigh painfully.

“Who’s car is that?” He asks lowly.

“My dad’s. He…he must’ve come home over the weekend. Or today, maybe.”

You hope to God he only showed up this afternoon. Otherwise, he will not be pleased that you’ve been gone all weekend. But if he’d showed up sooner, you’re sure you would’ve received a rather angry phone call, demanding to know where the hell you were.

His grip loosens, but only marginally. “Did you know he was coming in?”

You shake your head as he parks, then turn to him. “No. The last time we talked—texted—was maybe three weeks ago?”

You fill with sadness at that. At the fact he didn’t even bother replying to your last message.

You suddenly feel so much more grateful to have Nate in your life now.

“Do…do you want to come in and meet him?”

You’re not sure how your father will react to you having a new boyfriend, but ultimately decide it doesn’t really matter. He’s hardly ever home anyway. Not that he seems to much care for or about you in the first place, you think bitterly.

He doesn’t get to make your choices for you anymore. You’re almost eighteen. And when you finally are, you’ll be free to go and do as you please, and he won’t able to say otherwise, especially if you’re still with Nate and he decides he still wants a life with you.

You hope desperately that he does, but reassure yourself that you’ll be fine either way.

“Sure,” he replies.

Once you’ve entered the house, you immediately grow uncomfortable. The air becomes heavy as Nate helps you take your backpack off.

And then his voice calls you from the other room. “Y/N, that you?”

Who else, you think. “Yeah, dad, it’s me.”

“Come in here, please.”

You hold tightly to Nate’s hand as the two of you enter the dining room where your dad sits with his laptop in front of him and paperwork in neat piles next to and behind it.

He finishes typing out something, then looks up to the both of you over his glasses.

“Who’s this?”

Nate doesn’t like the way your body shifts and presses the least bit closer to his own, almost like it’s out of fear, or like you’re trying to make yourself invisible.

He immediately decides that he dislikes your father and that they won’t be becoming friends.

“Nate. Nate Jacobs. He’s my…my boyfriend.”

Nate pushes down his pride and his dislike for the man for your benefit. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”

Your dad leans back, sets his glasses on the table, then crosses his arms over his chest. He pinches the bridge of his nose for a moment before looking at you again. “I leave for not even a month and this is what I come back to.”

He sighs. “Nathan—”

“It’s Nate,” he replies firmly, pulling you closer to him.

“Nate, I’d like for you to leave so I can spend some time with my daughter, and ask her why I’m only just now hearing about this.”

“We haven’t spoken much in three weeks. I—I didn’t want to…to bother—”

“You couldn’t pick up the phone I pay the bill for every month?”

A muscle in Nate’s jaw feathers.

All he wants to do right now is lunge across the table and beat your father within an inch of his fucking life to show you how he won’t allow anyone to disrespect you.

He already knows that he’s going to be one more obstacle that stands in the way of his goal of keeping you all to himself. He won’t allow it.

Tears sting your eyes.

“Sorry,” you say quietly.

“Go to your room and change first. You shouldn’t be dressing like that for school to begin with.”

Nate’s temper is only growing shorter with each word the piece of shit speaks. Now he’s insulting the way Nate dressed you? Is making you second-guess his making decisions for you?

You nod and go to pull away from Nate, but he doesn’t let go of your hand.

When you turn to him to say bye, he leans down and crushes his lips to yours. He makes sure to use plenty of tongue before slowly pulling away. “I’ll be here to pick you up tomorrow morning, baby. I love you.”

Your heart is pounding now.

You can practically feel the irritation radiating off of your dad. “O-ok.”

He continues staring down at you, waiting for you to return the sentiment. “I love you, too.”

He presses a quick kiss to your forehead before turning to leave, not sparing your father a second glance before he slams the front door behind him.

He makes sure to rev his engine a few times before pulling out.

Later that evening, you call Nate in tears.

You ask him to please come get you. You tell him that you don’t want to stay here overnight, and that you don’t care if you get yelled at for it.

You already have some bags packed, and you’ll wait for him by the front door.

He replies that he’ll be there soon. He does nearly a hundred to get to you as quickly as possible. To get to his girl.

When you open the front door, you bury your face against his chest.

“I hate him,” you mumble as you wind your arms around him.

He holds you for a moment and shooshes you, then tells you that he’s getting you out of here.

He carries your bags to the truck and sets them in the backseat before buckling you in.

The both of you are silent the way back to his house. You sniffle and occasionally wipe your eyes while his right hand holds your left firmly and he plants occasional kisses to the back of it.

Once Nate has you in his room, you break down entirely.

He kneels in front of you as you apologize profusely for being a burden and offer to go back home.

He insists that this is where he wants you to be: with him, where you belong.

“What happened once I left, angel?”

He only knows what he did once he took off.

He’d driven around while repeatedly slamming his hand against the steering wheel in anger. He’d sped, cursed, and mentally planned what he would do to keep the two of you together.

He would not let that man come between you. Would not let him ruin his plans for the two of you.

He’d already ruined his fucking plans for tonight.

He’d intended to go through your room, pack what clothes he wanted to see you in, as well as toiletries, cosmetics, shoes and jewelry.

He’d also planned to take you to dinner before bringing you home and giving you oral—twice.

He planned not let you finish either time, until you woke up to his tongue between your legs in the middle of the night. And only once you blocked Lexi—promised him that you’d never give her the time of day again—would he finally ease into you and let you cum.

Now? Now he has two fucking people to get rid of. One way or another.

“He…” You take a deep breath, and try to calm yourself now that you’re in Nate’s room and safe.

“He told me he didn’t like you. He…he asked where I got the clothes, since he knows I don’t usually dress like this. I told him you got them for me. He told me they were to go back. He wouldn’t have ‘some boy’ dressing and buying me things. He told me to have some self-respect. He told me I’d go back to taking the bus from now on, too. And that he wanted me back at the house while he was away. No more going out. No more ‘seeing boys’. He told me how disappointed he was with me. How he didn’t even recognize me. I don’t understand what I did wrong.”

You begin to sob.

You sink down to the floor with him and crawl into his lap.

He wraps his arms around you and holds you while telling you that he loves you over and over. He tells you that everything is going to be okay—he promises.

He insists that your dad doesn’t understand. How could he? He won’t even talk to you about your own mother.

He assures you that he won’t let him tear the two of you apart.

Finally, you press your lips to his. You’re not even sure why you do it—you’re not in the mood. But you hope it’ll make you feel better.

And so you and Nate fuck right there on the floor, and he tells you, once again, that he loves you.

Nate makes sure to make passionate love to you. Eventually, he picks you up while remaining inside of you, and he lies you back on the bed.

He keeps his eyes trained on yours all the while as he kisses you gently. He twines his fingers between yours, as well as in your hair. He then slides his hand along the bottom of your thigh, and he gently squeezes your hips.

He hopes that this will serve as some small form of trauma bonding on your behalf.

Once you and Nate come together, he bathes you, then tells you that he’ll order you whatever you want for dinner.

You merely shrug and tell him that you aren’t very hungry.

He orders you pasta and soup from a local Italian place and he enourages you to please eat for him, that he’s worried about you.

And so you do so.

Nate puts on one of your favorite romantasy movies while the two of you lie naked together while you wait for sleep to find you.

He tells you that if you want to stay home tomorrow, he will too, to take care of you.

You give him a gentle kiss and thank him for the offer as you finally drift off to sleep in his arms.

#fic: euphoria (nate jacobs x reader)#nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x y/n #euphoria x reader #nate jacobs imagine #euphoria x you #euphoria x y/n

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charlietheepicwriter7 · 9 months ago

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V The Mysterious Wayne Family

Dick Grayson V Gotham - Chapter 2

“Why can’t I sit in the front seat?” Danny demanded to know, crossing his arms from the back of Dick’s car.

Dick sighed, peering back at him with the rearview mirror. He’d been shaky as they escaped the apartment without getting attacked by the media. Did the idiot get sick? Was the media in this dimension such a big threat?

Truthfully, Danny didn’t know a lot about this dimension, despite having lived in it for around a year. That year was spent almost entirely homeless, spending only the last few weeks with Dick. Otherwise, he was sleeping where he could, spending his days in libraries and conning people out of cash as a child medium.

…Well, calling it “conning” was a bit of an overstatement. He did get people in contact with dead relatives and the like. He just… didn’t always quote them exactly, especially when it meant he could get enough money to eat for the day.

“It’s unsafe, Danny, you know that.”

Danny glared at him from his booster seat, which put him perfectly at eye level so he could lock eyes with Dick with the rear-view mirror. He hated this whole situation: the booster seat, his age, needing to rely on an adult, the stupid media, the stupid police, the stupid Dick… Okay, he kinda liked the booster seat. It was based off of some hero—Superbman—who was an alien? But looked like a human?

That may be one of the biggest differences between this dimension and his hom–the dimension he was born in. Danny had been one of the only heroes back there, along with Valerie and Dani, if you could even call them heroes. In this dimension? There were hundreds. There were space aliens to normal people in costumes to other humans with powers, and while not all of them were heroes, a lot of them were.

And Danny hated how easy they had it.

Every day back in Amity Park was a fight for acceptance, a battle to convince people that yes, he was a ghost with good intentions, only for that trust to be lost the moment he wasn’t fast enough to stop a ghost from hurting someone, or got thrown through a wall trying to protect people. It was constantly one step forward and one step back, and nothing Sam or Tucker or Jazz said ever truly made him okay with it.

Despite everything, he hoped Amity Park was doing alright without him. He couldn’t go back—wouldn’t go back, even if he had an open portal and his powers, not after what happened—but hopefully they were doing okay.

He hoped his rogues had listened and stayed away from the Fenton portal. For their own safety.

Like every time he thought of his pa–the Fentons, the scars across his chest flared up. They might have been long-healed, but the pain always lingered, a sharp lance that lingered in the thin skin of his wound. Fiddling around in his pocket, Danny found his juul and puffed. Exhaling, a bubble gum smoke filled the cabin as the CBD started to work its way into his blood.

Dick coughed. “You know you won’t be able to do that in the manor, right?”

Danny grumbled, rolling down the window a crack.

“I’m serious, Danny. I know you need it, but the rules are different at the manor. You’ll need to go outside to smoke.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll smoke outside. Wouldn’t want your gramps to get bent out of shape.”

He laughed. “I think Alfred would be alright, once we explain your medical issues. It’s Bruce we’ll have to worry about. He’s got this thing about drugs… once he learns what’s in your juul, he do whatever it takes to get you off it. He won’t even listen if we tell him about your chronic pain, he’ll just think you’re lying!” Dick threw his hand up in the air. “Honestly, it’s just lecture after lecture with him.”

“He can suck a cock then!”

Dick laughed, all traces of anger gone as his bright eyes glanced at him through the mirror. “Say that to his face, and you get ice cream for a week.”

“Done!”

The illusive Bruce Wayne. Danny had heard the name from the TV that morning, and apparently he was Dick’s dad. Not that Dick ever mentioned him in the months they knew each other. Not that this Bruce guy ever visited on the occasions Dick managed to convince him to stay the night, nor in the weeks after his foster placement was finalized. Danny didn’t even know Dick had a dad until this morning, so clearly something was going on here.

If he focused on this case—the mystery behind the estrangement of Dick and Bruce—then he’d finally be able to get his mind off Mrs. Bennett’s case. The Shade had approached him early that morning, flickering in the moonlight, barely visible and just formed. Her case was so easy too; her killer was her son-in-law, she’d been awake when he killed her and he’d definitely left behind evidence too, but there was no telling if the other detectives at Bludhaven PD would find it. Or would care enough to find it.

Corrupt bastards.

Speaking of which—”Are we actually going to be able to consult on cases while we’re in Gotham, or was that just something you said to make me feel better?”

“I believe I said case, as in the singular one with Mrs. Bennett. But yes, I’ve already arranged it with the Commissioner.”

“But she works for the Damir family! We can’t trust her.”

“We can’t trust her when it comes to cases related to the Damir family,” Dick corrected. “Other than that, she’s decent at her job.”

“That’s not a compliment.”

“She’s better than the other officers in our department?” he tried again.

“Also not a compliment. I’ve met dead guys that are better cops.”

They bantered back and forth, but the closer they got to Gotham, the tenser Dick became. Dick wasn’t the type to get serious out of nowhere—the only times Danny could remember were when a case involved a gang or that one terrible time when some ugly-ass assassin with a stupid-ass name came to town—but whatever was waiting for them… must be bad. Right?

Gotham, Danny noticed as they drove through town, looked better than Bludhaven, like how rats look better than turds. Danny had heard the rumors about Gotham, mostly about all the dangerous villains, but there was clearly some money going into infrastructure. Beautiful gothic buildings dripping with gargoyles towered overhead, and there weren’t nearly as many boarded up shops and potholes.

It wouldn’t have been a bad place to set up shop if it weren’t for all the Shades around.

The ghost population of this dimension mostly comprised of Shades with the occasional Poltergeists and Wraiths. Ectoplasm wasn’t as accessible here; just traveling to this dimension had stripped Danny of almost all the ectoplasm in his body and he still hadn’t recovered, so his powers barely worked. But Shades were shadows of humans when they were alive, weak and incorporeal unless you were a ghost too, barely kept together with their obsession.

Bludhaven had a lot of Shades. That’s why Danny settled down there when he first arrived. He wanted to help people move on if he could, either by solving their murder or contacting their loved ones.

If Bludhaven had a lot of Shades, Gotham had a colossal number.

Shades clogged the walkways and the streets, dissipating when someone or something went through them and reforming in an instant. Some alleys were plugged with them and some alleys were empty. Danny watched with wide eyes. Ghosts were supposed to be rare. He’d thought ghosts were rare. But Gotham was plagued with violent crime… violent, unique, indescribable crime, worse in intensity from Bludhaven, but not quite there in frequency. There were women with their faces melted off, men ripped in half down the center, children blown to bits, creeping around the streets of Gotham.

Danny sunk down in his booster seat. “I want to go home,” he admitted quietly.

Dick sighed. “I know, kiddo. I want to go home too.”

He blinked away stubborn tears. Dick didn’t understand. This wasn’t Danny’s home, this dimension wasn’t Danny’s home, Dick wasn’t Danny’s home (as much as Danny appreciated Dick, he wanted his family, but they hated him, they attacked him, they—)

Dick continued talking. “But you know what? Everything’s going to be okay. Because my grandfather is going to love you. And Bruce— He’s a little rough around the edges and we might not get along right now, but he’s going to love you too.” Dick sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than Danny. “Tim’s going to adore you; he’s told me that he’s always wanted a younger sibling and I can’t blame him; his house looks so lonely and his parents were always gone. He’s staying with Bruce now as a foster since his dad’s in a coma, but he’s been family long before that…”

He listened to Dick continue to ramble about his family. Bruce was rarely touched upon in his stories, but Alfred was spoken of with unmistakable love (Danny never knew his grandparents, Mom and Dad were disowned years before he was born, he could probably guess why), and he clearly adored Tim (He could understand that, Danny loved Jazz with his entire soul, but what would it have been like if he had a younger sibling? Would his relationship with Dani have turned into this if they could’ve spent time together?). Dick continued with stories about his best friend and ex-girlfriend, Barabra (Sam and Tuck, Tuck and Sam, his friends were dead and it's his fault—), and even a few including Tim’s ex-girlfriend too.

He closed his eyes and tried not to think.

Before long, the car slowed to a stop. Ahead of them was a grand manor, the kind shown in those regency tv shows that Jazz loved watching, with obsessively maintained gardens and beautiful, clean exterior. A stone staircase led up to larger-than-life wooden doors; Danny couldn’t identify what kind of wood, but it was probably something expensive and old. Mahogany? That sounded like an expensive wood.

Dick put the car in park before turning around in his seat to look at Danny. “Alright, buddy. Are you ready to meet our family?”

“Your family,” Danny corrected mulishly, unbuckling his seat belt.

“Our family,” Dick said again, smiling. “They’re good people, and they’re going to be here for you.”

“Sure.” Sliding out of his seat and out of the car, Danny stayed slightly behind Dick as they walked up the steps and to the front door. Before Dick could knock or find the doorbell, the doors opened to reveal an old stereotypical butler. He even had a British accent! “Master Grayson,” he addressed Dick coolly, but when he looked at Danny, his expression softened. “And Young Master Daniel. It is good to finally meet you, and welcome to Wayne Manor. I am the family butler, Alfred Pennyworth.”

Danny ducked away. “Danny’s fine,” came his muttered response.

Alfred smiled. “Young Master Danny, then. Come along; Master Bruce is waiting for you both in the foyer.”

Dick grimaced. Did that mean something bad? What was a foyer, a fancy word for office? Was Dick going to get scolded?

They followed Alfred into the house (although, calling it a house felt like an understatement). It was even fancier inside, with marble floors and a glistening chandelier overhead. Danny felt significantly out of place in his jeans and ratty coat he’d pulled out of the trash.

There was a man pacing in the room (was this the foyer?). He was dressed in a fancy suit and built like a brick house, but looked similar enough to Dick in a weird funhouse-mirror way. The moment he saw them, his face smoothed into a banal smile and Danny immediately didn’t like him. “Dick! You’re home.” Striding up to them, the man immediately hugged Dick, who stiffly returned it. “Welcome back, chum. And who’s this?”

Dick’s smile was strained. “This is my foster son, Danny. Danny, this is Bruce; I was his ward until I turned 18.” Ouch. Not even a foster son, but a ward? That sounded like a significant step down from fostering. Danny glared at Bruce, who seemed taken aback by his hostility. Dick laughed nervously. “Sorry about him, he’s shy.” Now Danny glared at Dick.

Bruce’s smiled evened out as he crouched down, like that would hide his fucking massive body. “It’s nice to meet you, Danny,” he said. “I’m very happy you're here. Hopefully it’ll be a lot more peaceful now that you’re staying with us.”

Danny scowled. “Suck a cock, douchebag.”

Bruce’s smile dropped as Dick smothered a laugh. “Watch your mouth,” Dick scolded without any heat behind it. Danny smirked.

“It’s okay, Dick,” Bruce said, straightening up. “I’m sure Danny’s just shaken up from the sudden change. I’m feel the same, since you didn’t tell any of your friends or family that you were taking in a child.”

“Oh, so you can adopt a child without telling anyone, but when I do it—”

Alfred stepped in. “If you both could contain yourselves a minute longer, I can get the Young Masters settled in. I’ve already arranged a room for you in the family ward, Young Master Danny, if you’d like to rest? It is still rather early in the morning.”

“It might be better to give him a tour of the manor before anything else,” Dick said, eyeing Danny warrily.

“I’m not going to get lost.”

“Mhmm.” Dick didn’t believe him.

“I’m not!”

“Just like how you didn’t get lost at the precinct? Or at the morgue? Or at—”

“I never got lost on the streets!” Danny thought that was rather impressive. Besides, it’s not his fault the morgue was just empty hallways that all looked the same!

“The streets are labeled. Besides, you’ll never know where the in-house theater is without a tour.” Dick winked, like that was a big selling point.

Bruce interrupted them. “Why don't you give him a tour after we talk, Dick? It’s been a long time since we last spoke and I was hoping to ask you about your… recent life change.”

Dick pinched the bridge of nose. ��Of course you want to start the interrogation right away,” he muttered, eyebrows furrowed. “Alright, but I don’t want Danny to hear this. Alfie, could you– Tim!” Following Dick’s glance, Danny found a teenager in his fancy pajamas standing on the stairs leading to the second floor. The teen, who looked enough like Dick to be his brother and Bruce’s son, rubbed his eyes like he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Tim can take you on the tour! Come on, Danny.”

Dick ushered Danny up the stairs to Tim. “Will you be okay without me?” Danny asked, not wanting to leave Dick alone with Bruce.

He got a bright smile in return. Danny didn’t trust it. “Of course I will, kiddo. Don’t worry about me, just focus on having fun with Timmy.”

Tim looked blearily between them. “What is going on?”

“You’re taking Danny on a tour so he doesn’t hear me and Bruce fight,” Dick told him plainly. “Danny, this is my brother and Bruce’s foster son, Tim. Tim, this is my foster son, Danny. You two have fun!”

Ignoring Tim’s protests that he hadn’t had breakfast yet, Dick pushed them up the stairs and into the immediate hallway, closing the door behind him. They stared at each other for a moment before Danny pressed his ear against the crack in the door. “When did Dick get a kid?” Tim asked.

“Like, three weeks ago, keep up.” Tim tried to say something again, but Danny shushed him. After a moment, Tim joined him in eavesdropping by the door.

Dick spoke. “I’ll start. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you both I was fostering a kid. I was planning to inform you after the two month mark and Danny had settled in a bit more, but obviously that plan is out the window.”

“I accept your apology, Master Dick,” Alfred said, and there was a sigh of relief. “However, I would still like to know how this happened in the first place.”

“I’m more interested in knowing how you managed to foster him without us being interviewed as character references.”

“...I may have used my boss’ influence to make sure that only my co-workers were interviewed?” Dick admitted.

“Master Richard.”

“I’m sorry, Alfie, but he’s a flight risk! Do you know how many times I managed to get him to come home with me only for him to disappear in the middle of the night!? Fourteen times! Danny’s admitted that he ran away from his previous home, he still hasn’t told me his real last name, and he’s paranoid enough to give Bruce a run for his money! I’ve just barely managed to gain his trust. I didn’t need Bruce being Bruce to ruin it for us—”

“If you had asked me to stay away, I would have—”

“No you wouldn’t, Bruce! You’d pick and prod and try to uncover his every little secret because you don’t trust me to figure it out myself! If Danny had suspected that someone was looking into his past, he would have bolted, B. And I would have lost him forever.”

Danny nodded. He would have. Not that Bruce would have found anything about his past–the perks of getting stuck in an alternate dimension–but some rich asshole poking his nose in his business? Danny would have snuck onto the next bus out of the city.

“You can barely take care of yourself, Dick!” Bruce insisted. “If it was such a dire situation, then you could have contacted me and I would have–”

“–Lost him immediately because he has a strange hatred for billionaires?” Dick scoffed. “He wouldn’t let you get within six feet of him if you tried to take custody.”

“I–”

“He bites too.”

“Dick–”

“Hard.”

“Richard–”

“And it’s pretty bold of you to say I can’t take care of myself. Have you looked in the mirror recently? Because the word hypocrite is written across your forehead in crayon.”

“But I’m not the one who struggles to make rent each month.” Danny flinched. He’d known that Dick didn’t get paid that much, but was it really that bad? Didn’t Dick get a pay increase when he was made detective? Or was Danny taking so much money that it negated the pay increase— “Nevertheless, I’m not trying to take custody away from you, Dick. I’m just… trying to figure out how we got to this point.”

“We got to this point by not trusting each other,” Dick said tiredly. “And I still don’t trust you, not after what you did.”

Dick, I–”

“No, Bruce. This is my life. Besides you were only a few years older than me when my parents died and you decided to raise me on your own. It’s hypocritical for you to complain that I’m doing the same. Look, I’ve known Danny for over a year–”

“You mean you’ve hid this from me for over a year?”

“Bruce–”

“I knew I should have been suspicious when you got that foster license. You’ve been planning this for months–”

“Bruce!” Dick snapped, and Danny had never heard Dick that mad before, not even the first time they met. “Obviously I’ve been planning this for months! I’ve been planning this since the first week I met Danny! The only reason I got that damn license was for him!” He felt… warm. Danny knew that foster licenses were hard to get, but Dick had really wanted him since the week they met. Danny had been so… feral back then, he couldn’t imagine anyone wanting him, not even Jazz. Dick continued, voice barely audible through the door. “He’s a good kid. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

A sigh. “I just… don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret, that’s all.”

“Are you saying you regret adopting me?” The angry voice was back. “Adopting Jason?”

“That’s not what I meant—!”

Tim pulled him away from the door. “We shouldn’t be listening to this. Come on, let’s start that tour you need.”

Danny tried to pull away, but Tim was deceptively strong for his thin frame. Despite his struggles, he was halfway down the hall before he knew it. “Let me go, cocksleeve!”

“You don’t need to hear that,” Tim said. “Trust me, things always get… heated between them, when Jason is brought up. That’s not something you need to witness.”

Jason, huh? That must be the linchpin in this entire investigation. Dick had never mentioned a Jason before, but he was clearly important if the entire family got bent out of shape for him. Did Dick cut contact with Bruce because of this Jason? Did Jason force Dick to do it? Dick would never abandon his family like that, Danny knew this had to be true because of his determination in trying to take Danny home, but if he was forced to stay away… Maybe Jason is an associate of Bruce that Dick hates?

Danny finally managed to jerk his arm away. His entire hand ached. “You don’t have to drag me!”

Shock crossed Tim’s face, like he’d finally realized what he was doing, before it fell. “I’m sorry, Danny. I shouldn’t have pulled you. It’s just… Jason isn’t something you should hear about, at your age. I would appreciate it if you didn’t bring him up, especially around Bruce. Okay?”

Studying the boy, Danny agreed. Sounds like Jason’s some sort of criminal contact, so it was best to behave carefully. Danny kicked at the ground, scraping dirt off onto the carpet that ran in the center of the hall. “So, what do you guys do for fun around here?” He asked. “I don’t need a tour, I’m not a baby.”

Tim rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I just spent the night in the library, working on a case? If you want to lend a hand with that?”

Danny narrowed his eyes. “I thought you just woke up?”

“...Just because I was in the library doesn’t mean I was awake the entire time.”

Ah, a fellow insomniac. His eyes narrowed further. “I only like interesting cases. What kind are we talking about? Fraud? Robbery? Some dinky school kid project?”

“Multiple homicides. If that’s interesting enough for you?”

“...Carry on.”

A/N: Anyway, I’m using @/jedipirateking’s age chart for the ages of Batman characters. Since we’re right before Under the Red Hood, that makes Dick 24. Danny is roughly a year younger than Damian, but was originally 17 before he was deaged.

Dick: Yes, this is my feral street child. Danny: *foaming at the mouth, swearing*

Tim, internally: Oh! Dick must have already informed Danny about our identities! They work on cases together too, maybe we can work on one to bond? Danny, internally: Wow, rich people have weird ass hobbies

Danny: *so close, yet so far from figuring out the Jason thing* Red Hood: Did someone just walk over my fucking grave again?

Yes, some things are being kept vague on purpose. That’s for a better reveal in the future.

@starlightcat04 @maeashryver @widderwise @darkstarsapocalypse @sisma @luminanightfall @storm-fire98 @amyheart19 @collectingthegoods @redhoneysugarorange @lordfirecat2004 @screechingnoises @meira-3919 @dannyphannypack @satisfactionbroughtmeback @rowanaway-fromthisbs @i-always-say-yea @avelnfear @some-rotten-nest @ark12 @heirxofxtime @akikkobara @blep-23 @skulld3mort-1fan @markus209 @stargirl1331 @onlyhereforthechaos @inth3world @awkwardmaiden @fantasticbluebirdfan @currant-owo @alice-hazelwood @screamingtofillthevoid @crystalqueertea @gaelicholiday @gmkelz11 @mattybook1987-blog @bytheoldwillowtree @apointlessbox @chemical-pepis @ghostface3100 @idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @bathildaburp @boo-ghosties @bubblemixer @halfalix @lyra689 @dragon-dancer16 @lunadoll36 @mimilikey @hellomygay @frogs-are-pretty-awesom @overtherose @cyrwrites @your-emo-nightmare @lexdamo @roman4517 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @raginblastocyst @thegatorsgoose @fisticuffsatapplebees @olivethetreebitch @vixen-uchiha @ae-vixrose @joseph557 @kisatamao @gin2212 @thewondersoflebanon @d4ydr34min9 @malice-of-the-sunrise @tiblii @that-awkward-fae-nerd @aph-mable @dolfay @ghostreblogging @wackyattack @writer-extraordinaire @boo-ghosties @coruscateselene @emergentpanda-blog

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dpxdc #constantine jr au #c: danny fenton #c: nightwing #c: tim drake #c: alfred pennyworth #c: bruce wayne #c: jason todd #fictag dgvg

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fbfh · 5 months ago

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Had to take this to the professional 🫡

We need more dad tony stark content (literally anything you got)

Literally starving

Thank you 😌

thank you for giving me more excuses to talk about this. Tony is such a good fucking dad in general, but he's especially great when you get sick. if you're in new york, he probably notices cause you're not up as early as usual. idk where this came from, but I can hear him clear as day walking into your room and smoothing your hair to wake you up, saying

"Hey pumpkin, sun's out." you only grunt in response, but it's not your usual sassy I don't wanna wake up grunt. It sounds softer, like you actually can't get up yet.

"You feeling okay?" before you can answer, he's totally on it. "jarvis, run a vital scan."

He rolls you over onto your back so he can look at you. you look... pale. you don't have the usual vibrance to your skin, it's gray and faded. you look like if you weren't lying down, you'd pass out. Your eyes are puffy and watery, your lips are chapped. You're not yourself. While Jarvis runs a diagnostic scan on your vitals, Tony also gets to work. he carefully sticks a microneedling patch on your arm to check your blood - something Strange helped him whip up, among many other ways to monitor your health without all that clunky invasive hospital equipment - as Jarvis gives him the low down.

"Elevated body temperature of 101.3 degrees fahrenheit, swelling of the sinuses, elevated white blood count..." Jarvis rambles on and on while describing your simptoms, only interrupted by an agressive coughing fit.

"And a rather nasty productive cough."

You look up at him and try not to get teary, you know crying will just make you feel more dehydrated and achy.

"Dad... I don't feel good..."

He looks down at you so warmly, and with so much love.

"I know, kid."

He stands up, determined to do everything he can to kick this cold in record time.

"Alright, your schedule for the week is cleared." He cuts you off as you object. "Ah-bup-bup-bup. I don't want to hear it. You are officially on bedrest until further notice. Jarvis, order out for some of that soup we like, some cough drops, and popsicles."

He looks down at you.

"You want ice cream? What am I saying, of course you want ice cream. Jarvis, throw in a few pints of Stark raving hazelnuts and bunny tracks."

He grabs the remote for your tv, putting on your favorite movie and has dum-e wheel you in a box of tissues. He grabs some vaseline and cold medicine, along with a fresh cold water and your favorite flavor of sports drink.

"Now. I want you to lay back, I want you to stay cool, and I want you to get some rest. And you're a Stark, so staying cool should be no problem." He gives you a kiss on the forehead, then stands up to move all his work to stuff he can do at home, and tell Pepper to cancel or reschedule the rest so he can spend the rest of the day watching movies and tv shows with you between naps. You can hear him muttering to himself as he calls Steven over to come check on you. If you weren't so tired, you'd find it funny that the only person your dad trusts to be your family doctor is also a wizard.

"Can stop aliens from invading earth, I can make an arc reactor that can fit in the palm of my hand, how have we not cracked this cold and flu season thing yet?" he mutters, making a mental note to discuss it with the rest of the Avengers at the next team meeting. you drift off to sleep feeling a lot better than you did when you woke up, and thinking about debrief folders titled Avengers v. Rhinovirus.

#dad!tony #iron dad #drabbles #marvel drabbles #marvel x reader #marvel fluff #mcu x reader #mcu drabbles #mcu fluff #tony stark #tony stark x reader #tony stark drabbles #tony stark x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x son!reader #guess who has the sniffles #tee hee!#hearing tony call me pumpkin has cured me instantly #turns out the avengers can beat the common cold #maybe the real cure for disease was the friendship they found along the way #but yeah no he'd have peter and harley alternate checking on you every thirty minutes #they're disinfected. they're masked up. they're wearing medical gloves. they're drowning everything in lysol wipes #peter is also kinda worried about getting sick but harley thinks all these precautions are dumb and would rather just get up in #your personal space #tony will allow neither of those things to happen #so yeah it's comfort food comfort movies comfort beverages to the max #he'll also offer to read you bedtime stories half as a joke but also completely seriously #sometimes you just have him take work calls in your room cause hearing him talk is so comforting #he jokes that he didn't realize his work was THAT boring #and you get to be like daaAAAAaaaddd....

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maddyguru · 1 year ago

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hi!! i know that you’re not rlly used to writing for toji but can u do a Dad!Toji where he misses Mamaguro so much that he just took the habits of forcefully taking his need on his daughter? :v

Tw: dark content, father/daughter incest, non con, loss of virginity, toji has virgin kink?, creampie, minors and antis, do not interact

Toji loves his wife; she was the only one who could ever ignite that fire of love in his cold heart and so, he spent his days with his beloved woman until fate had decided that she would leave him behind in her early 30s.

It was a cruel fate that God had planned for him- putting him in this miserable world with his miserable family and then gifting him the most perfect woman he could ever think of and provide the love he craved, only to take her away from him just like that. She slipped right through his fingers. She was gone, leaving him and their little girl behind.

And as the young girl grew, the depressed toji began to see that she was oh so much alike to his late wife- her face, her mannerism, and her voice, they were all so close to the young girl's mother. And it led him to think,

That God didn't really forget about him. God took away his beloved wife, only to replace her with their pretty daughter.

You were his to love. To own. To take. Who else would want and love you if not your own old man? Ah, God didn't forget about Toji after all.

He snuck into your room at night, waking you up from your slumber only to start ripping away your clothes that he provided to you. He couldn't atop himself from the urge to claim what is his- he ignored your scared cries as you lie naked, bare in front of him like your mother once was- only, she wasn't crying from fear.

When toji took your first time, he cried. Because God really made you to be his. Your virginity was proof that you are his to own, and that you were waiting for him all along. His cock twitched excitedly at the feeling of your gummy, tight, and velvety pussy and the droplets of your virgin blood running down his cock. You were crying so hard and begged him to take out his huge cock; but you didn't understand. No matter. He will make you understand.

It didn't really hurt him when he starts fucking you. Although, he's sure that your body and mind is hurting at this moment. His sloppy thrust was alien to you, given that you've never fucked anyone before. Toji wished he could do something about you crying and having a panic attack from his actions, but his happiness is what matters most. Yours come second.

"dad, please, stop..."

"dad, it hurts..."

"dad, it's too much..."

"dad, please..."

"dad, I'm bleeding..."

Your pleas were left unheard, as he continued using you again and again and cumming inside your pure womb.

#toji fushiguro x reader #toji x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #tw.smut #tw. noncon #tw.blood #tw.incest #tw.dark content #tw. violence

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det-agency · 27 days ago

Text

payneland yule exchange 2024

@clementiiny

tw: bullying/abuse/ptsd/underage drinking

prompts: pre-canon, hurt/comfort, domestic vibes charles-centric fic

Charles eyes the space Edwin cleared out for him on their homemade bookshelf.

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It was funny at first, two ghosts were haunting an old abandoned building. Nestled in off streets on some abandoned development project in Southern England. He can remember when they first stumbled in on a mirror hopping exercise, and Edwin taught him how to concentrate so that he could help move the discarded clapboard pallets. The way the pressure built on his hand without the texture of the wood was so alien to him at the time. When the hastily nailed planks finally rose his eyes darted to Edwin automatically.

“Very good Charles,” his smile radiating in his voice and eyes.

“Thanks mate, I think i’m getting-”

The pressure dissipated instantaneously, the rush of sand colored boards falling in a blur and crashing so loud to reverberate in the unfurnished concrete building.

No one spoke or moved for a minute.

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Now two months have gone by and he has an empty shelf of the same discarded wood. Right next to Edwin’s growing collection of magical tomes and comics.

Somehow.

The sentiment is nice, but Charles isn’t much of a bibliophile. The last book he cracked open himself was probably Warriner’s English Grammar and Composition- complete course. If he had Edwin to read his coursework to him before his midterms- as well as the signs of faery possession- he might have had a better time retaining information.

He lets his mind fidget with the idea. Sneaking around to study with Edwin would have been loads more enjoyable than swotting up everytime he got wind of a quiz. For all the vapid consternated lecturing about their desire to teach the next generation diligence he’s surprised none of the teachers caught on to his more extreme study habits. He needed to revise twice as long as his mates, whilst still keeping on top of his cricket practice. The stench of smuggled coffee in the shared dorm space, sting of untreated paper cuts on his cricket bat, and echo of quickly flipped paper while on the bench-minutes before practice begins- still haunts him. No one can say his scholarship was not merited. To be candid, a few of his peers tried. They should put his name on a medal.

He winces.

They’d probably think that was lame though. With his friends there was always a give and take. Charles would be too excited or too visually distinctive, and then they would disparage him before intervening. He can almost hear them now, in his head, mocking him for caring enough to wonder what books Charles thinks Edwin would want next to his collection. They’d probably ring his bell if they caught him idling, grinning at it, like a gormless old twit.

Charles starts picking up the books Edwin had pushed to the far side of the room and carrying them back towards their place on the shelf. Each one aged into a different neutral hue.

It’s not like getting lumped aside the head is the worst, he’s just had his fair share of it. The sharp painful corrections reverberated through concert gigs, class, and his old house. With his Dad it was something you could count on. Like the chime of a clock or the clunk of his boots on the floor above him when he got home.

The closest he gets to that is when Edwin scolded him when he misplaced a hand-bound copy of Materials Toward a History of Witchcraft V. II.

His hands were steepled and eyebrows were pinched as he faced Charles.

“It is of our best interest to have our books on occultism organized if we are to keep helping any stray ghost that takes your fancy.”

His tone is sincere with “steps to make sure this does not happen whilst they are in each other’s company.”

It had been the first time Edwin had mentioned a future- their future- together.

So…there are more instances where he messes up with Edwin.

His first offense was gathering discarded vinyl records from the estate to solve the case of the mummified musician. He may have gathered more than necessary. The boxes littered their settled office with the crowded oppressive atmosphere of an obstacle course.

“ I don’t understand the importance of collecting memorabilia from his estate if his condition clearly exemplifies a pharaoh's curse, Charles.”

“Except he’s never been to Egypt, and something is wrong with these records, Edwin.” Charles tests.

“Whatever do you mean?” Edwin asks, hands centering more nervously.

Charles takes the dingy milk crate containing the cursed record to the top of their newly acquired office desk. “He didn’t have any photos of his parents in that house. Closest we got to them was that burnt photo with his passport. So whoever his family is in Egypt he isn’t going back to see them often.” He grabs the third vinyl ceremoniously holding it up and points accordingly.

“This band was based in the UK and was underground in the 70s; they did not have the money to parade around publishing records in Egypt, mate. It also doesn’t have English import tax added to the price on the back so we can figure whoever gave it to him wasn’t a distributor. Finally,” He slides the protective sheet from the record. “The Matrix numbers are utter gibberish.” Charles raises his head to find Edwin studying him instead of the vinyl.

“You know an awful lot about vinyl records, how come your interest has never come up before?” Edwin poaches.

“I’m not interested, mate, this case is just stupid convoluted and I’d really appreciate getting this case closed as soon as possible, yeah?” Charles twists away placing the covering back onto the record and into the jacket delicately.

“Right, of course.” Edwin reassures.

The following offense had occurred after a few days of dodgy eyeing on Edwin’s part. The silent treatment had gotten so intolerable he had resulted in point blank annoying him about the local bands when they walked past the building on their way to pick up new comics and magical tomes from the only occult shop in London to sell to “new ghosts.”

The cold morning air clung to the energy around their forms as they made their way through almost empty city walkways. The greys and blues of the world still clinging to the buildings and street as Charles prattles on about trumpet melodies and inconsistent show times. They had been trotting by a street light holding fast against the elements when Edwin had stopped walking and Charles went ramrod straight.

“Did you use to go to shows frequently?” he asks hesitantly, but his eyes are narrowed and posture is straight, holding a brick sized hand bound french magic book and a recent batman issue with the same reverence, snug against himself.

Charles feels the panic, in his arms and stomach, unfurl their tendrils.

“I-er-well, we all had the go-ahead to leave campus, right, but we could never make it back in time if we went too far, did we? This venue didn’t card, so we always found our way here…eventually.” Charles stammers.

Edwin’s eyes drift to the unassuming dark building with torn weathered posters littering its wall. “You mentioned going to see the Po-Goues in January, but the poster says they were playing January 14th, which is shortly after your holiday. So I may surmise, you came back to St. Hilarion's and then went to a concert in which the interim school faculty would be exceedingly vigilant. You must care about them a great deal.” His eyes roam, and lock back onto Charles, assessing.

“Didn’t think you were actually listening, mate.” Charles teases.

“The Kon 5 is playing next week, so we could attend a show, if you are still interested in such things.”

Edwin steels himself, takes a breath, and then points to one of the newer additions to the wall. Charles follows the line of action from the base of Edwin’s shoulder to the mass-produced poster for the stupid band he used to wait in line to see.

-------- ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ --------

The building is dark. Metal and Brick both painted over with worn black overcoats. The stairs lead to an expanse of hallway with an open bar and doors. He remembers Mark used to remind him not to be an idiot and forget the stuff they came in with. Abandoned high heels, coats, and a metal bat line the walk-way. If you follow it you can pass the bathrooms to the back and you can see the open floor of an expansive former church turned remodeled stage.

The members come up one after the other. Each fiddling with equipment and performing checks on their respective instruments.

Charles’ energy is erratic. His hand had phased through the bars of the catwalk; they were camped atop up to his forearms. Being inside shouldn’t be putting his nerves on edge. He should be able to differentiate being in the building now with Edwin for one of his favorite bands and the “friends” who introduced it to him.

Nevertheless, every place his eyes rest rip memories from the depths of his mind to the cold air around him. He remembers, agreeing to help one of his roommates move to afford one of the coats everyone wore. Being too scared to decorate it. Skipping class so no one would see him go to a Citizen 8 gig alone. Standing in the dorm’s communal bathroom, looking in one of the mirrors to the shades of purple on his body, no recollection who to inculpate. “It was just a lark, we didn’t mean any harm.”

Getting harrassed.

Getting Killed.

”Hard Lines mate, maybe next time.” muttered at his fucking funeral.

“Are you alright?” Edwin asks.

“What-er- yeah” Charles stutters, “Sorry, we’ve-I’ve- just never got here early before.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Edwin hesitates.

“Oh, yeah, brills.”

It’s strange they don’t have any roadies or stage-hands aside from the band members. Charles points to the stage. “That is the lead singer James doing the mike check. and-” his arm halts its motion as they both watch in horror as the drummer touches his kit, glows red, dives behind the curtain, and begins screaming hysterically backstage.

Edwin looks at him quizzically.

“Well, that was the drummer.” Charles stammers, “Er-‘m sure, he’s fine, mate”

The Kon 5 are about twenty or so minutes into their set. The trumpets and drums are sycophantic in their rhythm drilling the crowd. Shouts of encouragement and lyrics are spurred out from the people around them. He looks to his right, Edwin stands in his school uniform tight and pristine despite the dingy atmosphere and sub-par lighting. His soft, thoughtful expression breaks into a smile when his eyes lock with Charles.

Guilt stabs him inextricably.

Edwin’s face falls and he pulls him towards the front of the venue. The Green lighting is strained on the hallway to the bathrooms that Charles has had the misfortune of painting in sick after a few too many jars.

“It’s okay if you don’t like the set we could head to the office and-” Charles starts.

“That is not the drummer.” Edwin states matter-of-fact.

The words left no room for negotiation, and were left between them.

“The Glowing was reminiscent of faery possession.”

“They just got back from France,” Hammering draws from Charles’s heart and hits his stomach.

“The shows-the tour,” he supplies, “They might have picked it up in Paris. ‘Right, Edwin?”

“You have the list of tour destinations memorized?” Edwin asks.

Charles feels stinging behind his eyes first.

“No, no, I just used to have their albums on tape and the upcoming tour destinations printed on back ‘innit.”

“You had their albums on tape? I had no idea you were passionate about music when you were alive,” he states.

“ We should see if the drummer could lend us some tapes after we rid him of his faery infestation.” Edwin mutters nodding to himself.

“Passionate?” Charles squawks.

“I don’t know why you insist on pretending you have no-interests or hobbies Charles, but you are clearly knowledgeable on the subject at hand.I had hoped your admission to your interest in music had been an olive branch between us, since you are so pliable to my rantings on thaumaturgy and protection charms, but you seem more fretful. ” His eyebrows are knit together before he continues, “I do not want our companionship to be so one-sided. I don't know any of your passions nor do I wish to have our place of residence devoid of your impression.”

“Mate, i didn’t mean-”

“I saw you restocked the bookshelf. Do you not see the office as a worthwhile place to store your belongings?” he continues. “Honestly, Charles, if you have no plans to stay we need not discuss it, but at least give me something to remember you by.”

The clawing in his throat builds with the silence between them.

“I-er,” he tries looking towards the cheap drywall, “This is just the first time it was okay to care about things, y’know?

And- yeah. I don’t, er- ” his voice breaks, and he half expects Edwin to shove him.

He doesn’t.

Instead, Edwin’s hand is steady as it grips his lapel.

He follows the pale pressed fingers to his wrist, up his covered arm and settles his gaze near Edwin’s face.

“Maybe on our return from our next trip from the occult book shop we can purchase some recordings.” He whispers.

Charles feels the buzzing energy in his hands again. He weighs everything said before him. The new revelation stripped the version of himself he had presupposed Edwin saw.

“Five minutes backstage,” Charles surrenders, picking up one discarded aluminium bat.

“Or we are summoning that drummer.” - ------ ≪ ｡❅*⋆⍋⋆*❅｡ ≫ ------

On the way back they pick up a walkman and cassette tapes for the Po-goues, rage parade, and Citizen 8. They leave behind a newly faery-exorcised signed guitar as payment.

When they get back to the office they make it to the middle of the floor before Edwin stands before him with his hand extended.

“What, right now?” Charles asks.

Edwin remains waiting patiently.

The magic canvas bag prognosticates. He swats his hand inside and picks up the cassette player, a tangled mess of earbuds, and the Citizen 8 tape all in one go.

Edwin’s hands dip for a second under the unexpected weight of the cassette player, but adjusts accordingly. Charles presses the eject button and places the tape into Edwin’s other awaiting hand. His fingers hold it in an unconventional manner while Charles stares in awe.

Too soon he presses the cassette into the cartridge and the hand is tucked under the handheld player.

“The earbuds please, Charles.”

Charles' eyes and hands return the mess of wire that he is desperate to untangle. He separates the left and right sides from the main auxiliary cord. Edwin’s hand reaches below and takes the jack and presses it into the aux with succinct precision. He returns, thumbing the earbud from Charles’s left hand to press it to the side of his face. He feels the loss of contact, and then watches Edwin take the earbud from his right hand before putting it to his own ear.

For a moment, he watches the cord between them.

The black wire joining their faces is short, forcing them a little closer than they usually get. His eyes flicker over Edwin’s face, but they find no discomfort. No, Edwin’s face is concentrated as he works. His eyes pinched with the ghost of a smile on his lips. They’re so close he can see the hint of stubble atop his lip and jaw. The coil coupling them taps below his ear twice before-

Edwin pressed the cartridge closed.

The guitar riff expels gruff and triumphant. Five seconds in the drums pick up a heavy beating in the heart of the song. Their lead singer screeches her arrival in a familiar melody.

Edwin’s eyebrows pinch slightly before a soft smile exposes a hint of dimples caresses his face next to the wire joining them. It takes a dull ache in the side of Charles’ face to realize he’s been smiling too. He feels the contact of Edwin’s fingers against his own before realizing he’s unconsciously reached to support the cassette player with him. The weight is lighter than anything he’s held in this new form.

It takes a few minutes before Edwin wanders to pick up his place in a discarded french spellbook. With both ears filled with the rapid pounding of a drum beat he places the remaining two cassettes on his spot on their shelf. With his energy still warmed from Edwin’s presence, he lays a hand on the exposed wood and lets himself press to feel the pressure.

#charles rowland #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #payneland #payneland yule exchange 2024 #clementiiny

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frownyalfred · 7 months ago

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hi!

thinking of superbat hours in my brain today and i'm on the topic of secret relationship superbat, because this is the most comedic-potential and angst-potential iteration for them. but i'm thinking of comedic potential version rn

(also side note - when you made a post on the kissing for immunity thing you said that you were ignoring the angsty implications (or smth like that about angst) and i genuinely cannot comprehend anything being angsty in that scenario??? what were you thinking of for that)

anyway, back to my thing. i'm thinking maybe clark speeds over to gotham at night sometimes to sleep with (both euphisimistically & not, bcs bruce needs all the sleep he can get and clark being the only one to be able to keep him safe while he sleeps is my jam), and leaves in the morning before anyone knows (ofc, alfred knows and idk if superbat would know alfred knows, but he would approve).

one morning, after clark's left, bruce wakes up sick - feverish, sore, headachy, nauseous, tired, the whole gamut - and being the idiot he is he simply. goes about his day. maybe he takes some tylenol or something but he definitely isn't a good example of what to do when unwell. and he almost goes out for patrol, with damian, but his heart rate spikes dangerously while he's suiting up and clark hears this (he is very attuned to bruce's heart even from cities away) and his Bruce Is Being Stupid Again senses go up (it's the spidey sense but bruce) and he speeds there immediately.

he finds bruce about to put on his gloves and cowl and is like "no, absolutely not" and stops bruce, who ofc gets annoyed and says smth like "no metas in gotham" and clark, trying to get him to stop, v tenderly brushes his hair out of his face and gently holds him and coaxes him into sitting down and resting, "babe, no, please"-ing him out of costume into regular human clothes, and giving him kisses (for immunity of course!) and calming bruce down.

he's going to drop bruce back to his/their bedroom when he realises that damian's seen them kiss so he thinks "oh, shit" but damian's more concerned for his seemingly-infallible dad being so sick. the next morning alfred wakes clark up for breakfast and thanks him for keeping bruce safe in a way alfred has never been able to. dadfred supremacy (dilf).

have a great friday today! idk if you work weekends but if you don't - have a good time off! if you do, have an easy day at work :)

oh I loved this!! thank you for sending it. as for the angsty microbiome post. I was thinking more about ways that having an alien microbe inside of you could make Bruce sick, or cause irreparable damage from an immune response. Or maybe change Bruce into some sort of Kryptonian/Human hybrid, but not a stable one. Or simply give him abilities or longevity that would change him beyond his comfort level.

#asks #anon #bruce wayne #batman #dc #clark kent #superbat #batfamily #superman #kryptonian biology

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ritartistside · 3 months ago

Text

VENOM 3 MASSIVE SPOILERS

As the title says, these are my opinions and stuff from the Hungarian version, that I saw 1 hour ago.

Jesus Christ the Queerbaiting lol

First of all, my heart goes out to the people who belived that there will be anything edit: explicitly romantic. I am a comicbook fan, I had almost zero expectations bc I don't trust film studios, but even I felt kinda gooped.

Good God the marketing department went bananas mode and there was nothing behind it.

I hope the tiktok acount person at least feels a bit bad lol /j!

So, nothing romantic besides stuff like: "We have been together for a year", "You always take me out to eat to the best places", the line about Eddie being the sexiest man alive. Also, Venom told Eddie that he would be a great dad and Eddie cried.

No "I love you" no "Darling" no "My love" (at least in the Hungarian version)

Also there was a scene, where Venom licked food of Eddie's face with his tongue that came out of Eddie's mouth

Venom straight up dies in the end (very heroic, it's by acid and explosions and the is taking all the symbiote hunters/Xenophages down with him and protecing Eddie), but it's kinda implied that he may come back, and they introduced more of the the King in Black story with Knull.

Knull appeared for 3 minutes, incuding the post-credit scene impling much more to come.

I don't remeber the science girlies' names, but I think they were sapphic. They held hands for like 5 frames. I don't know if they were together since the begining, but in the end they probably were in love, hopefully. It was super blink and you will miss it, I am not impressed, (we deserve more than this, this was nothing, I really hope SONY won't be patting themselves on the back for LGBT rep) come on. One of them now has a symbiote, and they will probably appear in more movies. I hope people make gif sets of them and stuff, they would have been cute. One of them frees Venom, so he can reunite with Eddie.

There was a cool scene in a river, where Eddie was being chased by agents and Venom separated from him and used different organisms to get to Eddie.

The hippie family from the trailer, they were cute, I don't feel like they were annoying. They were (the father was) alien fans, on a roadtrip to see some. The mom might have died in the end, or they just didn't show her as much as the dad and kids, or my eyes are shit. The endig was visually very dark and I straight up didn't know what was happening sometimes.

The first half was perfect in my eyes. Eddie's moral degradation, eating people, acting like a predator (nice), saving dogs from a dog fight ring Venom controlling Eddie a lot during the fight scene, and later Eddie ,while separated from Venom, killing a person.

Lots of exposition that was repeated multiple times.

The thing that got me thinking was that Venom (and all other symbiotes) knew a LOT about the Xenophages and stuff. And like, he knew that they both won't be able to survive. So was the whole movie him trying to push the inavitable in time out as much as possible so he can spend some nice moments with Eddie, before the end? Or as they said, neither one of them wanted to die, but V was just hyping himself up for death? IDK, kinda cool if it is meant to be thought provoking, eh if it's just a plot hole and makes the movie seem kinda pointless.

Bar scene in the begining was cool, they started in MCU and quick change back to SONY.

Also IDK if the writers forgot, that Eddie said in LTBC that Venom takes care of Eddie being hungover, bc he had a pretty bad hangover for the first half of the movie, or if it was just V messing with Eddie, or him not doing stuff to Eddie's body if he doesn't explicitly asks him to (big if true, is probably not the case), but in the end, this is a non-issue

Multiple symbiotes with random hosts, the setting most of the time was in a lab under Area 51. Detective Mulligan was there for 10 minutes an died, he also had a symbiote.

The Xenophages were like woodchippers, more blood and swearing in this movie than I expected (positive for me, I liked it,).

I could go on and on, but these were the most important bits in my opinion.

I was not very impressed in general, but I had fun especially in the first half.

Read the comics <3

Also, my little sis cried her eyes OUT, so it is a pretty emotional movie to some.

Sorry for the spelling mistakes, as you probably can guess after the title, english in not my first language.

I hope you can enjoy this movie more than I could, my little sis loved it, she thinks this is the best from the trilogy

Thank you for coming to my TEDtalk

#sony venom #venom movie #venom #venom the last dance #venom symbiote #venom 3 #sony #eddie brock #symbrock #veddie #marvel #spoiler warning #spoilers #venom spoilers

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sailingintothenight · 2 months ago

Text

“DARLING, YOU.”

FutureDad!Tom Holland x actress!reader.

Summary: On a rainy day, (Y/N) broke up with Tom and never looked back. The reason is still a mystery, is a secret you never told anyone. But after 4 years and a hopeless night, you and Tom must face the next 9 months together while you two decide whether you can pick up your life where you left off or the resentment will be too much to forgive and forget. But how easy can it be when there is a new girl in his life and a possible new love in your own?

A/N: Hello everyone. It's been over 4 years since I first posted this story, and I thought it was lost and forgotten, but after all this time, I realized that I still want to keep writing about Tom. My depression has taken me to some very dark places, preventing me from continuing with this page, but I still have affection for it, so I don't want to let it go just yet. I'm sure no one remembers this story anymore hehehe but I want to see how far I can go with it, even if only one person likes it. So, here I am! I hope you give it a chance again. Thank you so much! - V.

(Just in case you haven't notice, Timothée Chalamet will be (Y/N)' romantic interest because i'm delulu and i love him as well hehe)

PROLOGUE

CHAPTER 00

CHAPTER 01

“I’m pregnant, Ryan.”

As a girl who grew tall but is still a girl on the inside, the world she knew has completely changed, scaring her, and as she waits, sitting on a bench on that playground for her older brother to react, everything seems like a strange and alien place, and silent tears threaten to fall easily down her tender, yet sad face. Her world doesn’t stop spinning and (Y/N) doesn’t know if it’s her fears or her pregnancy that causes the nausea that rises from the bottom of her stomach to the corner of her throat, although she believes it’s still too early for that. The pain in her chest makes her heart tighten, as painfully as her mother’s words that pierced her and turned to ashes the fire she thought she had to face the uncertain future that awaited her. So (Y/N) sighs deeply and exhales the air out of her body leaving her without strength or desire to continue, but she knows she has no choice now, because her body no longer belongs to her just like that house where she lived all her life.

She just hopes her brother doesn't have the same reaction than her parents.

“We're happy about that, aren't we, love?” And to her surprise, he smiles, looking at her with eyes full of love, but he can't hide his concern. “The baby... Is it Tom's?”

(Y/N) nods softly, but she tries not to drown in the embarrassment.

“Don't ask how it happened.”

Ryan laughs softly.

“I have three kids, honey, I know exactly how it happened.” He holds his sister’s hand in her lap, sharing a bit of his warmth with her now that she feels like the world has frozen over. It’s comforting, though. “From your expression, I imagine Mom already knows, so I know well that she and Dad didn’t have the best of reactions.” Ryan sighs heavily, watching his twins play on that playground for a moment. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I know Mom and Dad love us, but they also loved the idea that marriage comes first. So… does Tom know it?”

(Y/N) nods again.

“Yes, he’s been very… kind, even after everything that happened.”

Ryan has a lot of questions, but he decides to start with the most important one.

“Are you guys going to keep the baby?”

“Yes.” (Y/N) lets out a held breath, but she can’t stop a thousand worries from stabbing her heart like daggers. “But I’m scared. I'm afraid I'm not going to be a good mother, that my good intentions aren't enough to raise a baby properly.”

Ryan shrugs, at peace with himself, because he harbored those doubts too.

“No one magically knows how to raise a child, baby, that’s something you learn along the way, but I always thought of you as a very warm person, with a lot of love to give, and I trust that that’s the pillar with which you lay the foundation to raise your child: the rest, like changing diapers, preparing milk, putting them to sleep, is something you learn with time and that’s something you already know how to do. You helped me with my children even though you lived between movies, traveling most of the time. You know how to love, (Y/N), and that’s all a baby asks for, to be loved and protected. The rest comes on its own. Besides, the baby has a father, and if Tom loves him or her like he loved you, and I know he will, my nephew or niece will be the luckiest of all, okay?” Ryan tries to hold her gaze, but (Y/N) feels relief through the fear, and the feeling overflows over the edge of her heart, so she rests her head against his shoulder. “It’ll be okay, honey.”

“Promise?” she asks, in a little girl’s voice.

“I promise.”

A few minutes later, Danielle and Ethan, the twins who had just turned 7, run up to them when they see their favorite aunt. (Y/N) can feel the love flowing from their hearts towards her, and although she usually jokes that they only loved her because she was their only aunt, the truth is that the twins’ love was because (Y/N) loved them as if they were hers, just like Tom had said.

As the afternoon is about to end, and the weather changes, (Y/N) stops in front of Tom’s door, the key in her shaking hand. At that moment, (Y/N) thinks and wonders: Tom Holland must have been just a stranger since they said goodbye in the past, but how would she call him now? He was no longer her darling, her only, her love. Should she talk to him as if nothing had happened? As if they hadn’t broken up in the most feasible way? What is the appropriate distance between Tom and her? What is the metric system that must separate them so they don't cross the line again that got them into that situation in the first place? One half of her wished to stay in the warmth of the bed Tom handed her last night, and the other wished she could take her margarita and leave that place too.

Taking a ragged breath, she opens the door and walks in. Giving her a warm welcome, Tessa runs to the door, tail wagging, recognizing who her mom was as Tom used to call (Y/N) when they were together.

"Tom?"

“In the kitchen!” (Y/N) walks over with Tessa at her side, one hand holding her still flat belly, wondering if she was doing this to protect the tiny baby currently growing inside her, or for the baby to give her the courage to face the uncertain future. Stopping at the double glass doors, (Y/N) watches Tom serve dinner, dinner he didn’t have to make, leaving two plates on the granite table in the middle of the place. “I don’t know how to cook yet so please don’t be too picky with me. But I made your favorite: spaghetti with sausage…” Tom pauses, giving her a dubious look. “It’s still your favorite, isn’t it?”

(Y/N) nods, but guilt bubbles up inside her.

“Yeah.”

Tom can feel the relief in his bones.

“Great. Sit down, I’ll get something to drink.” Moving around the kitchen that is his, Tom can sense the reservations in her, but silently, and without pressure, he hopes that will change with time, although he knew they had to talk about it because, the best time to do things is now, right? (Y/N) takes a seat on the wooden chair, giving Tessa a couple of pats on the head at the same time as Tom places two cans of soda on the table, before sitting down as well. “So… everything went well with Ryan?”

“No. He’s mad at you for getting his little sister pregnant.”

“What?” Tom blinks, like a scared child, and she can’t help but laugh.

She needed that desperately, to laugh, even if it’s just a little bit.

“I’m sorry. I’m just kidding with you, Tom…” (Y/N) looks at him with a small smile, and it’s sweet because she always was. “Everything worked out. Ryan’s glad to finally be an uncle, he says I was already making him wait too long... and how did it go with your brothers?”

“Good, very good, actually. I don’t know which of the three is more excited to be an uncle.” Tom watches her for a few seconds, taking the spaghetti on her fork, but not bringing it to her mouth. “Should we… talk about how things will be when the baby arrives?”

(Y/N) swallows the lump in her throat, because she would like to avoid that conversation at all costs, she would like to stop wondering where the baby will live, if seeing the baby grow up in two homes is what he or she deserved.

“Can we talk about something less serious? Please?”

Tom nods when she looks into his eyes, pleading, and he can see the fear in them, the unanswered questions, the pain.

“I was thinking of several names.” Tom smiles shyly, but he can’t keep his joy quiet. “I couldn’t sleep thinking about it.”

“Oh, yeah?” (Y/N) manages to smile too. “Like which ones?”

Deep in his gaze, (Y/N) can see his nervousness, but also his endless happiness.

“Autumn or Marly if the baby is a girl, and Nathan or Noah if the baby is a boy.”

(Y/N), smiling but avoiding his gaze for a moment, takes a sausage on her fork, just to hide the fact that his happiness is contagious.

“They are very beautiful. I like them.” She looks into his eyes, before eating the sausage, and, although she doesn’t know it, that small action is comforting to him, because, in some way, that was his way of contributing to her pregnancy as a father. “The truth is that I haven’t thought about it yet, but if you agree, I would like to name her Rose if the baby is a girl.”

“Like your grandmother.” Tom can’t help but smile, and (Y/N) nods. “Autumn Rose Holland, sounds like perfect, don’t you think?”

Too perfect.

When they finish dinner, (Y/N) heads upstairs to her borrowed room, against her wishes because Tom wouldn’t let her do the dishes. But when he’s alone with his thoughts, because Tessa was determined to stay by (Y/N)’s side, his phone rings on the granite counter.

“Hey, Mum.” He answers, on speaker as he starts washing the dishes.

“Hey, honey, It's been a few days since we talked... Is (Y/N) okay? Are you okay?”

Tom sighs, because, even though their future together was uncertain, he wanted to do things right for his baby.

“(Y/N) is okay, she went upstairs to get ready for bed. I guess I’m okay too, but I’ll be better when she and I can figure things out.”

Nikki stays silent for a few long seconds.

“Tom, honey, have you thought about living together?”

“I tried to talk to her about it, but (Y/N) isn’t ready, and I don’t want to pressure her into talking about something that makes her uncomfortable. I want her and our baby to be okay, and with the little I read online these nights, it’s best that she doesn’t feel pressured about anything, so I’m going to wait until she’s ready to talk to me.”

Nikki laughs, softly.

“You still love her, don’t you? The way you want to take care of her, it sounds like you do.”

Tom thinks about it before speaking.

“I don’t know, mum. (Y/N) was the first girl I ever loved, and I loved her for a long time, almost my whole life, you know that.” He can’t help but laugh, smiling to himself. “I fell in love with her before I knew what love was. And I can’t lie to myself and not say that I lived part of my life following her around when we were kids, that she could say something and I would completely agree like a fool.”

Nikki smiles, even if he can't see her.

“Do you remember when you were kids and you didn’t want to go to the fair? But the moment (Y/N) told you that she wanted to go, you insisted that we go too. You changed your mind so quickly when things were about her.”

For some reason, Tom feels a little embarrassed that his mom noticed how deeply in love he was too. But it’s a nice, warm shame, like when you’re a kid and someone asks you if you’re in love with your classmate, and so that she or he doesn’t find out, you say no, even though deep down you know it’s a big lie.

“I guess after all… I still love her,” he says, in a low voice, as if that would make his mom not hear him.

“But is that enough for you two to get back together?” Nikki leaves the question hanging for a moment before continuing. “Your baby has the right to grow up in a united home, Tom, but you have to ask yourself what you want first. If you decide to raise the baby separately, it’s not the end of the world, because that won’t deprive him or her of the love you two will give your child. What I mean is that you look for what’s best for you too, because you’ll be a great father, I have no doubt about that, son.”

When they end the call, and in the middle of his meditation, Tom receives a text from the director of “The Devil All the Time.” It’s the last thing he wanted to read at that moment when his thoughts are spinning with the force of a hurricane, but Tom knows that he can’t avoid his responsibilities as an actor. With the phone in his pants pocket, he walks up the stairs until he stops at the guest room, silently wishing, amidst the constant confusion of his feelings, that (Y/N) had agreed to sleep in his room. Not together, he had thought, unless she wanted it that way.

He hated himself for thinking that way.

“(Y/N)? Can I come in?”

“Come in.”

When Tom enters, he laughs softly at the sight of Tessa on the bed, next to her. Sitting there, phone in hand, he knows he won’t be able to keep Tessa away from (Y/N), and that she also knows that the filming of the movie had been moved up two weeks, so they would both have to travel to Alabama the next day.

“I guess you got the same message I did.”

(Y/N) nods.

“Yeah, but it’s okay, you know? I think this will help us clear our minds until we can talk about this situation.”

Tom can’t help it, his brow furrowing into a worried expression.

“If I’m honest, I’d rather you stayed home. I’m worried you’d have to work extra and that might affect the baby.”

Home, he had said, but until they sorted out their current situation, she felt like she didn’t have a home of her own, even though he was offering her one.

“I know you’re worried about the baby, and I really appreciate it, Tom, but trust me when I tell you that I’m going to be okay, that I’m going to take care of the baby too, and that if at any point the stress gets too much, I’ll be able to stop myself.”

“I’m worried about you too, (Y/N).” His gaze is sincere, and she can’t help but get lost in his autumn-colored eyes, just like the name he wants for his daughter. “We’re in this together, and I know I can’t contribute much to your pregnancy, but I want to take care of you two as much as I can.”

Despite the constant nervousness she feels when she’s around him, (Y/N) manages to hold his gaze, steeling herself.

“I know, Tom, the baby is ours, and believe me, just having you here with me is comforting. The truth is, I’m really scared, and I think you must be too, but despite that, I can feel your love for the baby. And that’s all I need from you in this pregnancy. That, and you holding my hair if I can’t when the nausea starts.”

(Y/N) is joking, but she also means it, and Tom knows it well, because after so many years together, he can see through her like glass.

Tom smiles.

“Trust me, darling, this baby will be so loved that when he or she grows up, he or she will throw it in our faces that we smothered him or her with our love.”

(Y/N) chuckles.

“I’m sure of that.”

Tom wants to say more, he wants to include her in that suffocating love, but the barrier between them still exists, so, after saying goodnight, he leaves the room heading towards his own. But it’s ironic, isn’t it? as Tom receives a second text.

I can’t wait to see you, Tommy. – Hana.

Because in the solitude of the room, (Y/N) receives the same one.

I can’t wait to see you, darling, it’ll be fun to work together again. – Timmy.

Hey! I'm tagging the people who asked for it in the beginning, but if you don't want it anymore, just let me know please :)

@theresnooneheretosave

@jackiehollanderr

@darkwandanat

@thevelvetseries

@omi-my-beloved

@lilhoodhippie

@sesamepancakes

@kait4073

@boiolay

@mayal0pez

#tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfic #dad!tom holland #tom holland x actress!reader #dad!tom #tom holland x reader

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t-s-n · 6 months ago

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me, simply trying to herd my family into the living room to watch the short film Dinner starring broadway actress christian borle: jesus christ. none of you are paying attention? did ANY of you hear my opening to my speech? my transfem nonbinary wife christian borle: La La La 😄😁 Oh no I hav;nt heard your speech! I was getti ng the kids!! 🥹🌈 the dsm-v book that came to life with my fatherly love and knows nothing about the real world due to being a book for most of her life: hi dad ^_^!!! i was helping godworm benjicat find the baby’s bottle. what’s a dinner by the way my teenage half alien cat daughter named bogos: d4d 0h mY 905h C4n y0u PL4Y 50M37H1NG 3l$3 F0r 0Nc3. 1M 901NG b@ck t0 1h3 g1rk 5h1p.

the blue self named benjicat who was once my therapy client and now lives in my house and eats all my fucking cereal, currently feeding my infant half cat half girk son a bottle: i am going to shoot myself mackitty please don’t make us watch it. my infant half cat half girk son falling asleep: snore mimimi me, shaking with rage as everyone leaves the room and the short film Dinner starring broadway actress christian borle plays: guess ill save my speech for another day…

#costcomic #from the shelves of costco

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askinkiskarma · 2 years ago

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Illicit Affairs | Chapter II: Right Where You Left Me

Pairing: Neteyam x Human!Reader (later Avatar!Reader)

Chapter I Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Synopsis: You were one of two kids stuck on Pandora after the war took all the Sky People back to Earth. After a series of events left deep scars behind, you are now forced to deal with your trauma - and your lingering resentment towards Neteyam - head-on.

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, blood, injury

Word Count: 4,7k words

A/N: So I didn't expect the last chapter to do so well, but I am happy so many people enjoyed it. I have really enjoyed writing this and I am happy to say I am almost done with Chapter III, as well. I am feeling all the feels doing this, and I hope you do, too.

“I cause no harm, mind my business If our love died young, I can't bear witness And it's been so long But if you ever think you got it wrong … I'm right where you left me”

The next couple of weeks were uneventful. You haven’t seen Lo’ak since that afternoon, although Kiri’s dropped by a couple of times to keep you company while you worked. Getting her to put on a lab coat and goggles was an adventure in itself, but she eventually relents and does as she’s told.

She’s shooting you a sly smirk as you are busy pipetting a reagent on your samples under an aseptic hood. “Your birthday’s coming up soon, do you have any plans?” You could hear the smile in her voice, which you found odd. You pushed the feeling aside. Kiri’s odd, and the things that bring her amusement sometimes elude you, and you love her for it.

“Oh yeah, big party planned, I was thinking pres in the gym, then main party in the dining area and a wild after party in the lab.” You roll your eyes. Birthdays seem fun in movies and TV shows, but it really isn’t the same stuck in a tiny confined space with nothing to do. You were turning 18. Not of much significance to you, although this birthday does seem to hold some relevance back on Earth. 18 is the age you become an “adult”, where you become legally allowed to do all sorts of human things, like drink, smoke, vote, be held liable for your actions (this one still confuses you), get married, drive and so much more. It seemed strange to you that so much weight was placed on this day, and you wondered if when the clock struck midnight a few days from now, you will feel different, like something in your brain will click and you will have answers to all the questions you have been silently asking yourself at night.

“Thought so. Well, we do have a surprise for you.” She says, still smiling from ear to ear.

Has everyone you loved collectively decided to forget that you hate surprises? With a groan, you got up from your chair, removed the samples that you quickly placed back in an incubator, shut the hood and motioned for Kiri to follow you out of the lab.

It was later than you expected when you finished, and you knew Kiri would have to leave soon so she can make it back home in time for curfew.

“Anywayyy…” she says, refusing to let your sour mood damper her own, “I was thinking you could join us at the home tree for your birthday party. The family prepared something for you and you haven’t visited in so long, everyone misses you, especially Tuk.”

“Kiri…” You wanted to go, and were touched that it seems that the family actually wanted you around, but you were scared. You knew it was stupid, but deep down the guilt of what your species did, what your own dad might have done, eats at you every night. You knew that whilst the Sullys and maybe other Na’vi as well were more than welcoming, others regarded you as a curse, an alien with demon blood that should have been sent to her dying world long ago. You couldn’t deal with knowing your very existence was a reminder of their lost family, their destroyed home, their battle scars.

“Come onnn, girl, you can’t spend every damn day of your short human life in this place. I mean, I like this place, don’t get me wrong, but if I had to spend every minute of the day here, I’d kill myself. I mean the foooood, the artificial lightinnggg, the stuffy aiiiiir…” she dramatically dragged every word to make her point, and despite everything, you couldn’t really argue with her.

“I’m not leaving ’til you agree.”

“I mean I just have to wait long enough that curfew begins, and I’m pretty sure I’m gonna see you run out of this place leaving a Kiri-shaped hole in the wall of the lab.” you said, laughing at the frown that settled on her face at your stubborness. “Fine, Kiri, my God, I will be there.”

“Yay! Thank you, you won’t regret it, I promise!” You couldn’t help crack a smile at her enthusiasm, and you hugged your friend that was sitting on a chair, short enough this way to enable you to do so.

“Do you want to see Grace before you go?”

You forget sometimes Kiri isn’t Jake and Neytiri’s biological daughter. I wonder if they forget, too. Kiri is a miracle child, of sorts. Born out of Grace’s avatar, she was like a gift from Eywa herself. She always visits her Ma when she comes to see you.

Kiri shifts uncomfortably in the chair, prompting you to raise an eyebrow. Strange, you think to yourself.

“No, I should really go, I don’t want to be late getting home and I want to pick some herbs I saw on the path on the way here. I think they’ll be good for the illness going around.”

You wanted to push, but decided to let it go. You couldn’t blame the girl for maybe not wanting to be reminded that as well as Spider and yourself, she, too, was an outsider.

You said your goodbyes, and deciding against dinner with everyone in the lab, you made your way back to your room. You picked a book from the shelf of your mum’s old book collection; another thing that apparently became obsolete on Earth with time, your mum revelled in collecting them. She said the only way to properly experience a story is with a physical copy of it in your hands. You agreed. There were a lot of electronic copies of books in the directory, and while you spent so much of your life dedicating yourself to them, nothing compared to the feeling of holding a book, that you know has been held and experienced by another human. You found notes and dried up tears on the pages of these books even to this day, and every time, it brings you closer to your mum, to your grandparents, to a home you’ll never know for yourself. You fell asleep with one of the poems you read that night still fresh in your mind.

“I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro

Kept treading - treading - till it seemed

That Sense was breaking through -“

You woke up in the forest. You recognised the place immediately. Secluded from the village and near enough to the lab that even a child could find their way back, it was the perfect hiding spot for little Y/N. You didn’t go there anymore, you’ve barely allowed yourself to even think about it these days, but your dreams spoke to something deep inside you, a yearning you couldn’t drown out no matter how hard you tried. You looked towards the clearing, where the riverbank was almost unrecognisable past the foliage and rocks and allowed yourself a moment of respite. You were startled by a high pitched laugh, and turned your head towards its origin. A little girl, no older than 10, was running towards the bank holding on to an oxygen mask pack, giggling as she looked behind her to an emerging second figure. She was so happy, so…alive.

Her eyes were glossy from unshed tears, happiness so loud it expressed itself physically. A second child emerged from the shadows, just behind where you stood. A boy, tall and blue, with the same innocence behind his eyes, quickly caught up to where the girl now lay on a rock by the river.

“I won, Neteyam! I beat you!” The girl says, panting, laughing and crying all at once. The boy’s expression softened, and as he took his place next to the girl on the rock, gave her a small smile.

“You did! I didn’t try that hard, though. I want a rematch.”

“You’re on!”

The two kids sat in silence for awhile, enjoying the peace and quiet, the hushed whisper of the water and the bustling chirping of insects and birds hidden from view.

“I have something for you.” The boy suddenly said with a gummy smile.

From behind his back, he retrieves a bracelet. It was green, made up of numerous beads and tiny rocks that complemented each other so well, it seemed they were put on this planet for the very purpose of adorning a Na’vi’s body.

You recognised the bracelet and the sight of it tugged at your heart. You felt your eyes tear up and cursed your mind for putting you through this again.

“This is like your bracelet!” The tiny girl says, with a wide smile.

“Yes, I told ma I lost mine and asked her very nicely to make me another and she did! I want you to have it. This way I have one and you have one. Just you and me.”

Just you and me. Just you and me. Just you and me.

You woke up in tears, eyes locked on the bracelet in question that was still residing on your nightstand. You didn’t wear it anymore, but couldn’t find it in your heart to part with it fully. It now lay next to your head, a bitter reminder of yet another road not taken. You cursed Neteyam for coming back into your life, if only briefly, just to resurface hurt you are yet to deal with or even acknowledge fully. You curse him for the bracelet, and the memories and yet another pain you have to deal with on your own. Always on your own.

The next few days went by in a blur. You spent the days buried in work, and the nights exercising and field stripping weapons. You refused to think, or sleep, or read or play music or really anything to would give your heart the opportunity to take over again. You passed out last night in the gym, but it was a dreamless slumber, which you were grateful for. This night was your last night at 17. You were waiting patiently for the clock to strike midnight as you were finishing up your last experiment for the day. You glanced at the clock, once, then twice, then three times. Eventually, it happened. And then nothing. No answers, no epiphanies, no nothing. Disappointed, but not entirely shocked, you chuckled at yourself for thinking life would give you an easy way out. After all, it never did. A little after 1AM, you made your way to your bed. You took one last look at your empty nightstand, then passed out.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAAAAAAY!!!”

Your entire body snapped in an upright position at the sudden auditory onslaught. Your face settled in a deep frown as you were trying to make sense of the scene in front of you. At the edge of your bed on all sides were people. Kiri, Lo’ak, Norm, Max and Spider. They all had big smiles on their faces, a big contrast to your own. You actively tried to remove the frown from your features, and found it easy enough when you realised these people, these people you loved were here, for you.

“Thanks guys. Anyway, could I get some privacy so I can put some clothes and thank you properly??”

With a grunt that definitely came from Lo’ak, they all left you to get ready for the day. When you appeared in the dining room, you found a big basket filled with incredible Pandoran food, and you were happy to see your favourites as the most prominent.

“Oh my GOD, Banana fruitsss!! How did you guys find these??”

“Lo’ak may or may not have spent an inordinate amount of hours waiting for a couple to drop out of the push fruit tree that grows a few clicks from the village.” Kiri said, laughing and poking Lo’ak sides with her fingers.

You felt a lump in your throat form at the admission. God, you were so grateful for this boy. You could live a thousand lives and still not deserve him. Feeling you getting emotional, he dropped to his knees and opened his arms. You made your way to him and hugged him, as tightly as you could. You were not great with words, but you put all of your unspoken thoughts in that hug. Your size difference made both of you snicker, and with one last tug, you let go.

“Thank you, guys. You are great, really, I couldn’t ask for better people to be around today.”

“Come on, let’s eat. We have big plans awaiting.”

“Sing!!”

You spent the morning eating and talking, Lo’ak complaining about the training and the ass kicking he got from his dad after your last meeting. You were laughing at his exaggerated manner of speaking, excited to finally have him around to get you out of your funk.

“You guys always want me to sing, you need to pay me if you’re gonna treat me like a jukebox, you know?”

You picked up the guitar that Norm brought for you out of the recreation room. You took it in your arms and strummed the chords, making sure they were tuned correctly. You thought long and hard about a song, and you found it eventually, buried in your brain, along with the memory of your mum singing it to you as a child with tears streaming down her face.

“… Did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen?

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still 23 inside her fantasy

How it was supposed to be"

You felt the tears coming, but you willed them away. Your heart was strong, but it couldn’t contend with your mind. You continued, pouring all of your frustrations with Neteyam, with yourself, with this life in the song.

Time went on for everybody else, she won't know it

She's still 23 inside her fantasy

Did you hear about the girl who lives in delusion?

Break-ups happen every day, you don't have to lose it

She's still 23 inside her fantasy and you're sitting in front of me"

You looked across the room and felt weird, sick ecstasy at the faces of the people around you, all of which looked sad and glossy-eyed. You didn’t want to make anyone sad, but you loved the power that music held. You loved that it brought people together, no matter the species, the language, the tone, the mood, you could always rely on music to provide unison.

If our love died young, I can't bear witness, and it's been so long

But if you ever think you got it wrong, I'm right where you left me

As you played the last chord of the song, you looked up and froze at the sight of Neteyam sitting by the door of the room, an unreadable expression marking his features. You registered people talking in your direction, but couldn’t decipher the words as you lay there, on the ground, guitar in hand, staring at the beautiful boy who did not allow your eyes to leave his own. You swear you saw a flicker of sadness in his big, yellow eyes you used to know so well, but as you were trying to decipher them, Spider’s oh-so-human face flooded your line of sight.

“Hello!! Earth to Y/N”

“It’s concerning how many times this happens”, Lo’ak intercepts.

You finally focus on the people who have come here for you, and put the guitar down with a small laugh.

“Sorry, guess I got way too into the song.”

“Yeah, what the hell’s up with that? It’s your birthday, it’s supposed to be a celebration and you’re making us depressed, instead.” Spider says, frowning.

“Sorry!” You whine, hoping the childish tone would earn a quicker forgiveness.

They all somehow roll their eyes simultaneously, which you find amusing.

“Mum and dad say it’s time.” It takes a second for your brain to register the Na’vi sentence. The deep voice breaks through the chatter and everyone turns their heads towards the oldest Sully sibling.

“Right!” Lo’ak says, patting his knees and getting up suddenly. “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!’

You knew it was dumb, but you were nervous, too nervous, to make your way to the Home Tree after so much time. It’s been years since you have been there, maybe since you’ve been anywhere, and it scared you more than you wanted to admit to yourself, or to anyone around you. Nevertheless, you put on your mask and secured your oxygen cartridge behind your back.

You bid a swift goodbye to Norm and Max, who said they will try to make it to the celebration later in the evening. You then stepped outside, eyes finding it hard to adjust to the natural brightness of Pandora. You found the mask uncomfortable, having been so long since you needed it last, and took a deep breath in your attempt to calm down and take it one step at a time.

Lo’ak was, as always, Neteyam thought, leading the pack. Spider followed suit and you and Kiri maintained a steady pace behind the two boys. Neteyam was quietly walking behind you. He was deep in thought, not being able to shake the image of you playing guitar and singing that song he had never heard before. He hasn’t heard you sing in so long and hearing it again opened a hole in his chest that he thought was long closed. His eyes followed you closely, taking in all the details about you he hoped he wouldn’t notice. Your hair was lighter than he remembered, not by much, but enough that it was there, present for him to see. You were tall, taller than you used to be, and taller than most human women he’s seen. You were wearing a skirt, he thinks it’s called, that flows every time the wind touches it. It’s black and it looks soft, and Neteyam can’t help but want to feel it for himself. Your top is braided and beaded, and it seems like a mix between human clothes and Na’vi wear. You back is completely bare short of a string that ties the top together and the man feels his heart picking up pace at the sight. Cursing under his breath, he moves his gaze on a piece of jewellery adorning your arm. A intricate bracelet, green and red, definitely Na’vi make. He remembers briefly Kiri making it for one of your previous birthdays and smiles sadly at the thought. Finally, his eyes settle on a deep scar on the back on your left leg. Before he can help himself, the memories flood his being…

Neteyam found himself once again, waiting outside the big metal building for you to come out. He was excited for today, too excited to put into words. It always took convincing for you to come out, especially recently, but he loved that you said yes to him, and not to Lo’ak or Kiri, for once. He knew you have been sad for a while, and was happy to do anything in his power to help. He jumped out of his skin when the door opened, and you laughed at him for being what you called a “scaredy cat”.

“I’m happy to see you, Neteyam”, you said, in Na’vi. He smiled to himself at your accent, but loved how hard you tried to speak to him in his own tongue. “Not happy you’re dragging me out, but if it means spending some time with you, I guess I will let it slide” You continued in English.

“I think you will be happy to be out for this”, Neteyam interjected. You walked together in comfortable silence, only speaking when you found a plant or animal you didn’t know the name of.

“Oh my God, this is so pretty, what’s it called?” You ask, enthusiastically.

“A’o” Neteyam answers you, smiling softly, never getting bored of your incessant line of questioning. Like with the language, he was just happy you cared.

“What are you wearing?” Neteyam asks, unable to stop himself.

“Oh, this?” You say, looking down at your choice of attire. “It’s just an old T-shirt I found in one of the drawers of the living quarters. I’m not sure whose it is, but I assume a big old man’s, cause it’s more a dress than a t-shirt at this point.”

“A T-shirt…” Neteyam said, contemplatively. He looked at it closer and saw an image he couldn’t quite understand on it and the word “Metallica” written on it. He didn’t know what it meant, so he dropped it. At least he learnt a new word today.

You walked like this for over an hour, but eventually reached the end of a cliff, that overlooked a beautiful waterfall. Neteyam thought this sight alone will make you feel better, but he had bigger plans in mind.

“Wow, this is beautiful! This was almost worth the fresh hell I felt when that bug went in my nose like 20 minutes ago.”

Neteyam laughed, and he revelled in the way only you seemed to be able to make him feel like this. Free and alive.

Standing on the edge of the cliff, Neteyam let out a high pitched yell, then turned around to look at you with a mischievous gleam in his eyes. He smiled as he heard the trees on the other side of the cliff ruffle, and watched with pride as a big bundle of green, yellow, red and blue emerged from the foliage and landed in front of him. He turned to you and let out a big laugh when he saw your face, jaw dropped in horror and amazement, eyes wide with the glint of curiosity he’s come to love so much.

“You did it!! I’m so so so proud of you, Neteyam!” You screamed, running at him and launching yourself as high as you could, knowing he would catch you in his arms. “And at 13, too! This has to be some sort of record, right?”

“I doubt it, but it still felt good doing it. I was shocked Mum and Dad even let me try it. Anyway, I wanted you to meet her.”

He swung you in his arms with ease, not weighing a lot more than his baby sister, who was just around 3 years old. He finally placed you back on the ground with care, right in front of the Ikran. He made tsaheylu and waited patiently as you were building it up the courage to approach the mighty being that was lowly cooing and nudging its head against Neteyam’s. He felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of your beautiful face, and said a silent prayer, thanking Eywa for still being able to bring that expression to your otherwise crestfallen figure.

Once it seemed you became comfortable enough around her to pet, he clicked his tongue and motioned for you to get on. You let out an incredulous laugh and shook you head.

“No way in Hell, are you insane??”

“Come on, Y/N. I never pegged you for a coward.”

After this many years, he knew how to push you buttons. He saw your smile drop and your eyes take on that expression that almost frightened him. Thank the Great Mother you were human, cause you would be a force to behold as a Na’vi.

“Damn you, Neteyam.” You said, slowly getting up on the banshee and making yourself comfortable in front of the boy. He felt your back flushed against his bare chest, and suppressed a shudder that threatened his body.

“It will be fun, you will see. Here, hold on here, and don’t let go. I will have my arms around you at all times, and I promise to make her go slowly.” You refused to acknowledge him, and he found himself laughing, again.

Without any other words, he willed the ikran to take off. You let out an involuntary yelp, but otherwise you were brave and strong, just like he knew you to be. Once you were above the forest, he found you staring in awe beneath you, his gaze locked on the side of your face and on the smile that made him happy to be alive at the same time as you, just so he can experience it over and over. You flew like this for a long time, just taking in the beauty of this world that you both called home. A beauty that he knew you never got to experience, not the way you should have, not the way you deserved. He saw a tear escape your eyes and make its way down your cheeks and settle in between your lips, and cursed himself for not being able to take it away, the pain he knew clawed at you every waking moment since your mum died. You have never been the same since.

“Thank you for this, Neteyam.” You said, softly. “I wish there was a way to show this to her, a way to share this experience. I know she would have loved it as much as I do, maybe more.” You settled comfortably on his chest and sighed.

He didn’t get a chance to formulate a response, though, as a loud shriek came from his Ikran and he felt the panic overtake him as the tsaheylu made the feeling echo in between them. Looking up, he saw what no man wants to see: Toruk, his dad’s former pet, launching itself at the two teenagers and their ikran. Clearing his mind, Neteyam removed a hand from the reigns for balance and banked left abrubtly, diving straight for the trees, that were fortunately not too far below them. As if life suddenly stopped to a halt, he was able to experience the next harrowing moments in slow-motion - the diving, the terror of watching your frame slowly disappear from his line of sight, your voice screaming his name as you dropped towards the ground, his own voice getting caught in his throat trying to call for you, willing his Ikran to go faster than he thought was possible in an attempt to catch you, the pool of red liquid spilling from your frame as you impaled your leg on a broken Pxiut hitting the ground. He quickly removed himself from the Ikran and ran to you, picking you up in his arms, trying to ignore the way the blood was spilling down his torso and dripping on the ground. He looked at your unconscious body in his arms and felt the first crack in his heart form, a crack yet to be healed to this day. He pushed back the tears that were starting to pool and got back on the Ikran, flying as fast as he could through the foliage. As soon as he could see the outline of the metal building, he stopped the animal and got off, running with you in his arms. It’s all a blur afterwards. He remembers going home, your now-dried blood still marking his skin like a tattoo, he remembers crying in his mum’s arms, he remembers the guilt that poisoned his mind and heart and he remembers sitting on a cold floor next to what humans called an operating room, waiting to hear if the damage he has caused you will plague you for the rest of your life.

His eyes never left the scar on your leg, and, as he forced himself out of the torturous memory, couldn’t help noticing the slight limp with which you walked towards the village.

Crack.

Tag list :-): @mashiromochi

#neteyam #neteyam fanfic #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x avatar!reader #avatar #avatar fanfic #avatar twow #atwow #atwow fanfic #avatar loak #loak #loak fanfiction

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butcherlarry · 1 year ago

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Weekly Fic Rec 47

I'M BACK! I hope everyone had a Happy Holiday and a lovely New Year :) I think this might be my longest fic rec list yet! Enjoy everyone!

5 Times Tim Spends the Night at Wayne Manon + 1 Time He Comes Home by motleyfam - Batfam, complete. Part of the Settle Our Bones series. Tim joins the batfam early. I'm pretty sure I've read this fic before, but I really enjoyed it. It was nice to read while I was on break.

Rail-Splitter, Brain-Splitter by motleyfam - Batfam, complete. Part of the same series as above. Dick, Jason, and Tim go on an outing together and Dick gets a killer migraine. Hurt/Comfort ensues.

locked in, locked out by scarletazure - Superbat, complete. Bruce gets stuck in a dating simulator. Shenanigans ensue.

Reborn as a scum villain in a novel by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat, wip. Bruce dies and is transmigrated into the scum villain character in a novel. Shenanigans ensue.

Steady hands (ragged breathing) by loosingletters - Batfam, wip. Instead of growing up as rich heir to the Wayne family, he grows up as Bruce Kane, bastard child of Thomas Wayne, in the Narrows. Don't worry, he still becomes Batman :)

My Thanks to Ms. Monroe by loosingletters - Batfam, complete. Domestic abuse. Janet and Tim leave Jack. They go to Bruce for help.

everybody talks, everybody talks by fantalaimon - Superbat & Batfam, complete. Clark and Dick start a Bruce support group with other batfam and loved ones. Bruce finds out, feels ensue.

I saw dad kiss Santa Claus by Speechless_since_1998 - Superbat & Batfam, complete. Clark dresses up as Santa and kisses Bruce. The kids catch them in the act.

A kindred bond by Nyszu - Superbat, wip. Bruce gets kidnapped by an evil Superman, but is rescued by his Superman. I might have done a happy dance when I saw this fic update again :D :D :D

anything in your life more wonderful by januariat - Timkon, complete. A lovely, smutty Timkon fic :)))))

slow dancing in the dark by scarletazure - Superbat, complete. Omg, I loved this fic SO MUCH. I remember one of the updates happened when I was driving 10+ hours to my parents for the holidays. It was a nice little treat to read at the end of the day to decompress :) Anyway, Bruce and Clark get temporary amnesia, sleep together, get there memories back, but continue to sleep together as a "Friends with Benefits" thing. These fails when they both catch feelings for each other. Shenanigans ensue.

Sure on this shining night by mediant - Superfam, complete. Kara tries to recreate a Kryptonian dish for one of their holidays. It fails, but she gets some help from Martha, as well as some bonding time with Clark and Kon.

flash in the pan by shipyrds - Superbat, complete. Another fic where the whole "Friends with Benefits" thing fails miserably. Clark and Bruce get caught in there civilian personas making out at a gala. They try to do some damage control by fake dating and then an eventual break-up. Feelings ensue.

everybody says shipyrds - Superbat, complete. Bruce gets kidnapped by some aliens that say he's Superman's soulmate, and they want to use him as leverage to get Superman's help. The whole soulmate thing is news to Bruce. Shenanigans ensue.

Place we were made by loosingletters - Batfam, complete. An interesting take on Omegaverse! Omegas can claim territory, so Bruce (an omega) as Batman claims all of Gotham as his territory. Shenanigans ensue.

a diamond sky by TheResurrectionist - Pennywaynes, complete. Pennywaynes my B E L O V E D. From a room full of coral series. A look at Alfred, Thomas, and Martha's relationship in an omegaverse setting.

'Cause Heaven Only Knows by loosingletters, papered_king - Batfam, complete. NECROMANCER JASON NECROMANCER JASON NECROMANCER JASON NECROMANCER JA-

glitter & silk by sparkycap - Batfam, complete. A newly adopted Jason meets some of Bruce's friends after a night out as "Brucie". A neat fic about Bruce being bisexual, hanging out with some lady friends (painting his nails! love!!), and comforting Jason.

So Sweet Saluteth Me by Lishalalalalala - Batfam, complete. A sleep deprived Jason hangs out with Dick and they go to a farmers market. The sleep deprivation is why Jason agrees with Dick to take lunch to Bruce. Yeah, sure :)

bitty batty baby vigilante crew by deargalileo - Batfam, complete. BABY TIM AND STEPH AS VIGILANTES!!!! This causes some minor (major) stress for Batman.

Half in Love by timeturners - Superbat, wip. Another identity porn fic! I'll always read them, you can't stop me!!!

incendiary by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. Fem Bruce tries to hide her feelings about Clark. This fails. Sexy shenanigans ensue.

Darkest Little Paradise by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, complete. It's New Years Eve! Bruce is lonely at a gala and Clark is alone in Metropolis, so they both need someone to kiss to bring in the New Years. Kissing happens, as well as other, lovely smutty things :)))))))))))))

i told you something safe by quidhitch - Superbat, complete. Batman and Superman get injured and pinned down in an explosion with Kryptonite. Clark almost dies. He deals with the realization that he almost dies and the emotions that come with it. Bruce helps.

hold on loosely by TheResurrectionist - Batfam, wip. A 5+1 fic! Five times the batkids get sick and benched and the one time it happens to Bruce.

10 times they slept together, and one time SLEPT TOGETHER by JarJarBlink182 - Superbat, complete. A 10+1 fic! I think the title speaks for itself :)

ship-to-ship combat by pomeloquat - Superbat, complete. THIS FIC!!!!!!!! IT'S FINALLY COMPLETE!!!!!!!!!! If you haven't read it yet, PLEASE give it a read!! An identity porn fic where Clark becomes a fic writer to pay some bills. He writes for the ship Bruceman (Batman/Bruce). Bruce becomes a fan artist for the ship too. SO MUCH SHENANIGANS ENSUE.

The Brothers Wayne by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. Bruce Wayne and Wade Wilson (Deadpool) are brothers. NEED I SAY MORE????

Toes in the Sand by minnow_doodle_doo - Batfam, complete. Ngl, I was sobbing at the end of this fic, it was sooo gooood! A peak into the future, where Jason has kids and Bruce is a grandpa :)

Just A Little Bit... by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas) - Superbat, wip. What if Clark was a little more alien and Bruce (as well as Gotham) was a little more eldritch? The latest chapters have been A TREAT to read!!!

Patchwork Pod by KtKat9 - Superbat, wip. Mer Bruce fic! Connor is getting to know Clark and Mer Tim a bit more. Adorable sheep are involved :)

(Love) Triangles Have Multiple Centers by frozenpotions - Superbat, wip. The latest chapter of this identity porn fic almost had me on the floor laughing, omg. Robin stole the whole chapter for me, he was so ADORABLE and SASSY!

Emergency Contract by Elegitre - Batfam, complete. Tim lists Bruce, his next door neighbor, as his emergency contact, not expecting him to ever be contacted. GUESS WHAT HAPPENS???? :)))))))

a sky of honey by TheResurrectionist - Superbat, wip. More of the omegaverse Superbat fic that I have been OBSESSED about. Jason finally meets Superman. Unfortunately, he was not aware yet that Clark is Superman.

Happy reading!

#weekly fic recs #fic recs #fanfic recs #fanfiction recommendations #superbat #batfam #bruce wayne #clark kent #superman #batman

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