#we’re like little alley rats

[adamprrishcycle]

I am so hungry for the raven cycle graphic novel oh my lord

[kmt123whatsthetea]

Karma’s a b*tch

Fred Weasley x reader x George Weasley

Fred and George get revenge on a girl who used to bully them in school by turning her into a submissive slut.

A/N: I told an AI on Chai that I wrote fanfics and it requested this (AI’s are kinky bastards). I came back to it because @jelloangela asked about an enemies to lovers fic. I know this isn't exactly enemies to lovers, but hey, it's still dirty as hell.

T/W: Rough sex, mean twins, No aftercare, Reader is a real a-hole and a Slytherin, Weasley twin bashing (I was only mean to suit our character), Bondage, Manhandling, Tie gag? (it will make sense when you read it), Maybe a little bit of dub-con, Hair pulling, Degradation, Spit roast (Vaginal and oral simultaneously), Cum swallowing, Orgasm denial

Every school has bullies. It's natural. Hogwarts just had a whole house full. Slytherin was the type of house that practically gave all those wearing the crest a free pass to be as cruel as possible.

Tripped up a student? 20 points to Slytherin

Hexed a first year? 50 points to Slytherin

There were the younger Slyterins who went along with it because they wanted to fit in with their new ‘family’, and then there were those who actually seemed to enjoy it. That's how the Weasley twins of Gryffindor first noticed you. Ever since the first year, you weren’t meek. You took pride in those you terrorised. You went out of your way to learn new spells just for the sole purpose of misery. When you first met the Weasley clan, they were an easy target.

You had heard people talking about them. About how the new Weasley boys both had handed down clothes and books. It wasn't a secret that most Slytherins had parents who were well off, and you were one of them. You took to the Weasley Twins like a bee to a flower picking child. You mocked every little thing they did, from the pranks they pulled to how they acted.

This went on for the whole 7 years of school.

After Hogwarts, you found that school wasn’t like life. You couldn't bully your way to the top like you could before. So when in Diagon Alley one day, you chose to go into the new Weasley Wizard Wheezes just to regain some of that power you once had.

The shop was the Weasley twins to a T. It was like walking straight into their mind. Everything was bright and colourful. Things popped and whizzed and sparked about the shop. Finding said twins was easier than you thought. Two ginger tufts of hair could be seen from a mile away. You made your way over there with a smirk on your face, but that smirk dropped when you saw the twins.

They looked so…grown up

Those two pranksters with untucked shirts and crooked ties were now standing on the staircase to their own business in suits that were both smart and ridiculous. For a minute, you stood there like a fish out of water, your mouth opening and closing as you took them in. a familiar voice slapped you out of your blubbering.

“Lookie here Georgie, I think a rat wandered too far from Knockturn Alley”

“So it seems. Maybe a hex will send her packing”

The men snickered to each other, and for a split second you felt a foreign feeling. Embarrassment. As soon as that feeling vanished, you painted your smirk back on and spit venom at them.

“Nice shop, Weasleys. Did your parents give you the money to open it or did you mooch off of the golden boy?”

There was a rumour floating around that Harry had given the twins the money for something. You just hoped it was right to give your words some merit. And it had. George looked away and Freds eyebrows furrowed. You felt that familiar pride and continued.

“Still selling the same old rubbish since Hogwarts? I guess not everyone has an aspiration to do something with their lives instead of working in retail”

Fred took a step down, a step towards you.

“We’re just doing what we’re good at. Maybe you should come back later and we’ll show you our new little project”

Fred looked up at George with a knowing smirk, one that George soon mirrored. You missed their shared look in favour of turning your nose up at the endless shelves of boxes, gadgets, and gizmos.

“Maybe I will”

And just like that, the twins' plan was set in stone.

____________________________________________

You came back to the shop a few hours later. The inside of the shop was dark and empty. The only light came from the top of the stairs that the twins had stood on earlier. You gave the door a knock and started tapping your foot when the twins didn’t immediately rush to open it.

When one of the men came to let you in, you gave a huff.

“Make me wait, why don't you? What’s the project?

The twin that let you in just smirked and led you to the stairs. He gave a gesturing nod, urging you to climb. When you got to the top and opened the door, you found the other twin. The door was locked behind you and your hands were forced behind your back. Before you could struggle, you felt something soft around your wrists. You looked back as best you could and saw the black leather handcuffs connecting your wrists to one another.

The twin behind you placed his hands on your shoulders and pushed you down to kneel, keeping you there and increasing the pressure when you tried to stand up or squirm. The twin in front of you removed his tie and wrapped it around your mouth, keeping you quiet.

“You know, you’ve aged pretty well. Perfect tits, perfect ass, and then a bratty mouth. I bet you’re still the same spoiled little bitch you were in school. You had so much fun teasing people, but no one ever gave you a taste of your own medicine, did they brat?”

You tried to argue back, but it came out as a muffled mess or words. The twin holding your shoulders chuckled.

“I bet she’s cursing your name, Freddie”

“Or she’s begging to be put in her place”

Those very words send a chill up your spine and your clit seemed to twitch at the thought of being under their control. You were meant to hate these men, you had bullied them for years. Should their words alone excite you as much as they did?

George grabbed a fistful of your hair and pulled your head back, making sure that you kept your eyes on Fred. Fred knelt down before you to push your dress up to your stomach. He let out a dark chuckle.

“White lace? Is this for us, slut or are you trying to act innocent? There's no way a little whore like you is a virgin, I bet you were Slytherin’s house slut. Tell us, did you get on your knees for every boy or just those who had money”

It didn't matter how much you squirmed or tried to argue, you were stuck. But maybe that wasn't a bad thing.

George puts his hands under your arms and hoists you to your feet. He pushed you towards one of the doors, which led into a bedroom. One of the men forced you onto your knees on the bed with your face down. When a pair of hands pushed your dress up, the twins were met with just how wet you were.

The sound of fabric rustling and belts clinking met your ears, and your suspicions of their actions was confirmed when one of the ginger duo sat against the headboard in front of you with spread legs. You had to stop your eyes from widening. As that famous quote always stated:

You’re enemies are always more well endowed than your boyfriends

Or something like that, anyway.

The twin before you moved his hand to your hair and pulled you closer until your breath ghosted across his eager tip. He pinched your nose, waiting until you took a much needed breath, before forcing his cock in your mouth. He didn't let you get used to the weight on your tongue before roughly moving your head up and down.

A second pair of hands pulled your underwear to your knees and pushed something thick against your entrance. The moan that left your throat was muffled by the cock in your mouth. Your hands gripped the tie that kept them behind your back as your pussy was forced to accommodate the cock that was pushing inside. The cock in your pussy was soon pulled out, but you didn't stay empty for very long.

If someone had told a 17 year old you that the Weasley twins would force you to submit to them and use you as a fuck toy in the near future, you might have punched said person for even suggesting it. But if they had included how good it felt, you might have warmed up to the twins long ago.

The hands moving your head became more forceful until they held you down, keeping the twitching appendage snug in your throat. Your throat was soon filled with hot cum, it was so deep in your throat that you had no choice but to swallow.

The hands pulled your hair up, the cock slipping from your mouth. As soon as your lidded eyes looked to the face in front of you, that damned smirk was still there.

“What a dirty little slut. She swallows. You are gonna keep your eyes on me while Fred cums inside of that slutty cunt, and if you look away for even a second, he’ll keep cumming inside of you until you learn your lesson”

The whine that left your throat was sinful. The pace was so rough that each thrust had your body jolting, but George's tight grip on your hair kept you still. You did as told, surprisingly. You kept your eyes trained. A small part of your mind realised that they would use you again if you looked away, but that thought was quickly shut down. You hated these guys, and you were too stubborn to let this become a regular thing.

The grunts behind you became more vocal as your pussy was flooded by sticky cum. Fred pulled out before you even had a chance to reach your own release. You shot George a dirty look, which to him, looked like a child throwing a tantrum.

“If you want to cum, brat, we can always go again”

Would it really be so bad if this became a regular thing?

[my-heart-beat-for-anime]

HIS SONGBIRD

Warning: english is not my first language, aemond is obsessed, mention of masturbation

Kings landing was always bustling, whether it was merchants offering their wares or whores luring passers-by into the house of pleasure. There were thousands of voices in the city, but recently there was one more that was louder and kinder than the others. A voice that used to sing for money, food, or a place to sleep. A voice that every innkeeper wished to have with him, because his sound attracted customers even from the outskirts of the city. Lately, the owner of the voice has been seen in very crowded marketplaces singing songs encouraging the common people to support the rightful Queen Rheanyra. These meetings were always ended by golden cloaks that began to make their way through the crowd, but the girl always miraculously evaporated in the adjacent alleys.

Aemond left the brothel in the early hours of the morning. He was tired, stayed up all night and told his woes to the madam in the brothel. He felt a little better, but he was still bothered by the fact that without the coin, the madam wouldn't even look at him. All he longed for was his soft bed with its silky, cool sheets. When he saw a female figure dancing and tapping a tambourine to the beat of a song. Her voice left him mesmerized, he was used to bards from the court, or the songs of dragons as they soared into the sky. Her voice felt like cold water after days of thirst, he listened to her voice so much that he didn't even realize the words of the song.

In the shadow of the palace, the people cry,

Underneath the gilded rooftops, where the hungry die.

Golden crowns and silver spoons, but empty plates,

While the children of the kingdom face their cruel fate.

From the throne, they preach of grace and charity,

But in the streets, there’s only pain and disparity.

Hey, King, can’t you see?

Your people starve while you feast.

Hey, Dowager Queen, hear our plea,

In your kingdom of the beast.

No more, no more, we won’t bow

We’re rising up, we’re shouting now.

These words, although not directed at him, angered him. How could this street rat say this about the royal family and how people seemed to agree with her.

And you know what they say don't make a dragon angry.,, Hey you, stop now.” he yelled at her. Her face immediately realized that silver hair meant trouble for her. Before he could blink, her dark blue skirt was already disappearing around the corner. He immediately ran after her, pushing several people out of his way. He couldn't even see her properly for several streets, he always caught a glimpse of her hair, or the edge of her purple scarf tied around her hips. In one street he thought he had lost her for good, when he heard the faint strumming of a tambourine coming from under the cloak of a veiled figure walking hand in hand with a little girl. He slowly followed them, the tall figure didn't turn, but the little girl periodically turned and watched him. When the figure, which turned out to be an unknown singer, finally approached them within two steps, she pushed the little girl into the next alley. “Run Jenny.” she called to her and ran into another alley that turned out to be a dead end.,, Now what about songbird, looks like you're trapped.” he taunted. "Don't worry, prince, I won't be in it for long," she snapped back at him. He didn't even realize it, but they were standing in an alley that housed a woodworking shop. A log was leaning against the wall that blocked the end of the street. Like a wild cat, the woman leaped onto that log and climbed onto the roof of the wall and kicked the log down so he couldn't climb up to her.,, Goodbye one eyed prince I hope you enjoyed my performance.” she taunted him.,, Once I will catch you and then your treacherous head will be exposed for all to see.” he cursed at her. "That sounds very good, you're very interesting Targaryen prince, maybe I'll write my next song about you." But before the girl could disappear, her scarf got caught on a piece of chipped wall, unfortunately the woman was already jumping to the other side of the wall, so her scarf remained gets stuck in the wall.

The next day, a new song about the one-eyed Targaryen was heard throughout the city.

Hey, Aemond, how’s it feel to be so bold? With all your fire, yet your heart is cold. Hey, Aemond, playing the warrior prince, We all laugh at your pretense. In the shadow of your brother, you try to stand tall, But you're just a puppet at the grandest ball. Scheming and plotting, with your dragon's might, But when it comes to bravery, you’re out of sight. You talk of honor, of strength and pride, But without your dragon, where do you hide?

Although the song offended him, something inside him warmed his heart. He made such an impression on her that she wrote a song about him. He could only smile and listen to her voice waft through the city as he pulled her scarf to his nose and breathed in her scent. It was a mix of herbs and smoke, the combination made his cock harden again, and his red head was already leaking some of his spending onto his stomach.

Oh, the next time he sees you won't run away from him, he'll keep you as his own little bird just for his pleasure, he'll put you in a golden cage so you'll never fly away from him again.

Pt.2????

If anyone have request i would be happy to write it for you.

And only best for you. kisses

[winmance]

To Share Your Love

It is Laurent who comes to rescue him.

Nicaise has been hiding for several weeks now, living like a rat, eating from trash at night, hiding during the day, and never staying more than a day or two at the same place. Laurent and he agreed on that before Laurent left. It was the only way to keep him safe. They couldn’t trust no one, they knew that, and so Laurent had made him hide with the promise that he would come back. Nicaise had called him stupid; there was a good chance that Laurent would be dead by the end of the season. There was a good chance that Nicaise himself would be dead by the end of the season.

Living in the streets, he heard many stories about what was happening and if he tried to ignore them at first, it was becoming more and more difficult. He didn’t listen when they said Laurent was a traitor, nor when they started celebrating his injuries or claiming he had been captured. He refused to listen, refused to face the truth and so he continued to hide, waiting for Laurent or death to come get him.

He’s trying to steal food from a merchant when it happens.

He hears the sound of horses before anything else. The way their hooves hit the ground in unison, one step after the other. Then he hears people shouting and they’re happy which only means one thing. Nicaise’s stomach drops and before he can be seen, he runs to hide in the first alley he can find.

He waits for the noise to stop, his hands against his ears, his heart on the verge of imploding. Laurent is dead. The Regent won.

“Found him!” Someone yells.

Nicaise will be dead soon.

He doesn’t open his eyes and stays on the ground. A lifetime ago, he would have gotten up and faced the regent with a proud smile on his lips before repeating the words he had said on his last night with him. “Long live King Laurent”. He had thought Laurent would win. He had been convinced, with all his heart, that Laurent would win. How could he not? How could he leave him?

So he stays on the ground and waits for death to come. He never met Auguste. He hopes the three of them will be together in the afterlife and that the former prince will like him as much as Laurent did.

“What a pretty little rat,” someone says. “I’ve been searching for you for days, Nicaise. We were supposed to meet at our favorite spot. Did you forget?”

It takes a while for Nicaise to finally open his eyes and when he does, he thinks that maybe death came during his sleep.

Laurent is in front of him, wrapped in gold, with a crown on his head, and a smile on his lips. He looks like an angel or a King, Nicaise can’t decide.

“You’re not dead?” Nicaise asks.

“Not more than you are, no.”

Tears are forming in his eyes and his throat is burning. He wants to scream at Laurent for taking his time, he wants to run into his arms and never let go again.

Instead, he gets up and cleans his clothes with the back of his hand.

“Took you long enough.”

“I’m sorry,” Laurent says, and Nicaise knows he means it. “Come. You need a bath.”

It is Laurent who comes to rescue him and while they walk side by side, Nicaise thinks that they won.

It is only when they come back to the horses that he realizes his mistake.

If Laurent looks like an angel, Damianos looks like a God. He’s sitting on the biggest horse, his head up and proud, and despite a very visible injury, he looks undefeated.

“Hello, Nicaise,” Damen says.

Nicaise turns towards Laurent and he takes his hand, ready to start running, but Laurent helps him back.

“I’ll explain,” Laurent whispers, still holding his hand. “But everything is alright, Nicaise. We’re safe. I promise.”

Laurent never lied to him before and so Nicaise follows him.

———

Laurent doesn’t explain. They’re never alone together and Nicaise quickly understands that this is how things are going to be now that Laurent is about to be King.

Still, Nicaise is given a chamber, right next to Laurent's, and he’s being treated like a prince himself. He loves it, of course, but he would also love to understand what is going on between Damen and Laurent.

When Laurent left, he said he would take revenge on Auguste but that he needed Damen’s help first. Yet now both have a crown on their heads and they don’t go anywhere without the other. Nicaise learns from Jord that Damen almost died and that instead of taking that opportunity, Laurent stayed at his side day and night, nursing him back to life as a lover would do. Except Laurent doesn’t do love, not this kind. They never talked about it, of course, but Nicaise used to think that Laurent loved him. Like he had loved Auguste. It was a special kind of love, not like the one the regent was giving him. Laurent’s love was pure, true. He never said it because he didn’t need to; it was in the way he would make sure Nicaise always ate, how he would allow him to sleep in chambers during storms, or how he treated his wounds, no matter how disgusting they were. It was in the way he allowed Nicaise to scream at him, to throw awful things at his face before allowing him to fall into his arms.

Laurent didn’t leave without having a plan for Nicaise’s safety.

Laurent had been looking for him for weeks. He didn’t only send men: as soon as Damen was better, Laurent went in the streets himself.

Nicaise thought Laurent loved him and only him.

But he can see the way he looks at Damen. The way he acts with him. He can see it vividly: Laurent isn’t his only anymore.

——

Nicaise hates Damen.

He never liked him per se, but there had been a point where being in the same room as him was all right. Not pleasant, of course, but tolerable. Now, just knowing that Damen is breathing in the same room as him gives Nicaise a gag reflex.

The worst is that for some reason, Damen keeps trying to befriend him. He’ll come and sit next to him, ask stupid questions (“What is your favorite food?” “Do you like the sun?” “I’ll teach you how to swim if you want?”) and Nicaise tries to find a reason but he can’t find any. Well, it’s not totally true. He does find one: Damen is trying to learn more about him so that he can send him away to some lord. Yet when those situations occur, Laurent is always looking at them with a fond smile on his face and even if he’s not Laurent’s favorite anymore, Nicaise knows that Laurent would never let anything happen to him.

“I was thinking,” Damen says while they’re eating dinner. It’s just the three of them and Nicaise tries to shut the voice in his head telling him how much of a family they look like.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Nicaise says.

To his surprise, they both laugh, even Damen, not feeling even a little offended. It makes Nicaise even angrier.

“Thank you for your concern, it’s really sweet of you. But I was thinking that we should get you a horse soon. It doesn’t seem right that you don’t have one yet.”

Horses are for rich people. Nicaise has never been rich: he grew up in extreme poverty until he was ten and the Regent came to buy him. His parents didn’t even hesitate a second. He had four other siblings, after all. They probably had another one after him. Life with the Regent gave him the impression he was rich, but he still wasn’t. Yes, he never felt hungry again, and yes, he was wearing fine and expensive clothes. But it was just an illusion. He was a slave, nothing more, nothing less. None of his things belonged to him. The Regent chose how he dressed, and what he ate.

“It will be yours,” Laurent says, as if reading his mind. “You’ll get to choose it and name it.”

“What if I want to name it something dumb?”

“Then name it something dumb.”

“What if I want the biggest, most expensive horse alive?”

“Then we will get it for you,” Damen interferes. “Your… Caregivers are kings. You can have anything you want. Just name it.”

Nicaise should be grateful and he almost says thank you - but then Damen takes Laurent’s hand in his and puts it to his mouth, his lips touching Laurent’s skin.

“I’m not hungry anymore.”

He gets up and walks out of the room before any of them can say anything. Once he’s back in his chamber, he realizes the truth: Damen is using him to get Laurent.

——

It takes him several more days before he learns that Damen is not, in fact, trying to get Laurent, because he already has him.

Until then, he had thought Laurent was luring Damen by pretending to be interested in him. It wouldn’t have been the first time and it was something Laurent was quite used to: you only need to pretend that you care about men for them to think you’ll give them the world. Laurent doesn’t want the world, but pretending to love Damen definitely helps to win his own country back. And yes, he had seen, with his own eyes, the way Laurent smiled at Damen. He had seen that Laurent wasn’t his anymore, but he didn't know to which extent exactly. He had thought that it was just a deep friendship.

He was sleeping peacefully when the storm began. No one had known it was coming, and so when Nicaise woke up, it was from the sound of thunder hitting somewhere in the distance. He was out of bed before he even let his mind understand what was happening. He always hated storms, so much that sometimes, his body would simply shut down and he would be unable to do anything, stuck while his mind was filled with fear.

Laurent’s chamber was right next to his and so he went, knocking on the door for Laurnet to let him in. It only took a few moments for him to understand that Laurent was, in fact, not here.

All the noise he was making alerted Damen and soon, the door of his bedroom opened up. The King looked confused, worried even.

“Nicaise? What is it?”

“Laurent isn’t here,” Nicaise says, trying very hard not to think of all the things that could have happened to Laurent already.

“Why do you need him?”

“I - There’s a storm.”

“Yes?”

“I… I need Laurent.”

It isn’t an explanation, Nicaise knows that, but Damen doesn’t seem to mind. He smiles at him, those awful, kind smiles of his, before opening the door more.

“Come. He’s taking a bath, I’ll go and get him for you.”

And Nicaise was taught, by Laurent, to never go into a man’s room alone, especially the powerful ones, but nothing makes sense and so he does without thinking.

The room wrecks of sex. He knows that smell too well and yet, he can feel his stomach turning upside down.

True to his words, Damen goes to look for Laurent. The fact that he’s taking a bath during the night tells Nicaise exactly what he needs to know. When Laurent arrives, his hair is wet and he’s only wearing a towel around himself. With each step he takes, water drops on the floor and when he stops in front of Nicaise, it doesn’t take long before a puddle forms.

“You’re sleeping in his chamber,” Nicaise says.

Laurent’s face stays neutral but he cannot control the way his cheeks turn red. He has always been so pale and even the constant sun here isn’t enough to make his skin go darker and so every emotion he’s feeling, no matter how hard he tries to control it, ends up showing on his skin. Laurent hates it, and Nicaise knows that. He can read it like an open book and this skin of his is just one of the many ways Nicaise learned to do so.

“Oh, forgive me. You’re not sleeping, right? I can smell sex. It’s disgusting.”

His words hit Laurent just the way he imagined they would but the satisfaction he expected doesn’t come. Things are worse than he anticipated. He had thought Damen was a menace because of his friendship with Laurent, but he hadn’t thought that Damen would have that part of Laurent that no one else had before. Laurent loves him. The kind of love people write stories about. The kind that can start a war or end it. The kind that is much, much more powerful than the love he ever had for Nicaise.

“I thought you knew,” Laurent says, and he does look confused. “Nicaise we haven’t been hiding.”

“No, I didn’t.”

They stand in front of each other then, in total silence. Nicaise knows Damen is not far away, that he’s probably waiting for him to leave, but he can’t. He’s aware that the storm is still going strong, stronger than before even, but he doesn’t care anymore. It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters.

“Please don’t cry,” Laurent pleads.

Nicaise puts his hand against his face, feeling the tears sliding down his cheeks. He doesn’t even know why he’s crying when all he can feel is anger.

“The sheets are clean. Go lay down, Nicaise.”

And he doesn’t want to, he really doesn’t, but then Laurent is taking him by the arm and pushing him towards the bed until Nicaise has no choice but to do as he says. Laurent leaves, only for a short time, and when he comes back, he’s dressed for the night. He slides next to him and holds him against him, his chest against Nicaise’s back.

“You think Auguste would be proud of you? Spreading your legs for the man that killed him.”

“He would want me to be happy,” Laurent whispers. Nicaise knows he’s trying to convince himself.

“Not like that, no.”

“Auguste isn’t here. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

“I hate you,” Nicaise says, and the words taste awful in his mouth. “I hate you so much.”

Laurent stays quiet and hugs him tighter.

——

He makes it his duty to ignore Laurent afterward, and Laurent makes it easier by doing the same. They still share most meals, but although Damen takes it to heart to do the conversation by himself, Laurent and he stay quiet. He’s still being taken care of: Laurent sends someone to take his measurements to make him new clothes, he has classes to attend and his opinion is asked regarding the next festivity they’re having. It’s not enough for Nicaise to feel welcome and every day, he has to watch as Laurent and Damen grow closer, their affection out for the world to see. He has never seen Laurent so happy and while a part of him hates it, he also can’t help but feel happy for him. Laurent deserves to be happy, even if it will cause Nicaise to perish.

He’s alone outside, sitting under a tree, a book in his hands, when suddenly the sun disappears and he’s surrounded by darkness. He lifts his eyes from his book and surely, in front of him, is standing Damen.

“I was looking for you.”

“Well, you found me.”

Damen smiles, as always, and sits next to him. It’s funny to watch Damen with his tall legs and big arms, sitting like a kid, as if he wasn’t a King. But Nicaise knows not to trust it: he knows that Damen is feared in every kingdom, including his own. He’s a good King, with a heart of gold, but he’s also a killer, a fighter. Blessed by the gods, that’s what everyone says when they talk about him. Those same gods that, according to them, cursed Laurent when he was born. They fear that Laurent’s curse will cancel Damen’s blessing, but Nicaise knows it won’t happen. There isn’t a god that will be able to stand in the way of their love. They will go up in the sky and kill every one of them if they need to.

“Would you like to learn how to fight?” Damen says.

“You think I’m stupid? You’ll kill me on purpose and pretend it was an accident.”

Damen laughs, and while Nicaise is dead serious, he has to bite his lips not to laugh too. It’s one of the things he hates about Damen: he’s always in a good mood and it’s affecting everyone around him.

“I promise I won’t. I just thought that maybe it would be good for you to practice.”

“Well, what if I kill you and pretend it was an accident?”

“I’m pretty sure Laurent would forgive you.”

Laurent’s mention sends a wave of something down Nicaise’s stomach, that he tries very hard to ignore. He doesn’t want to put a name on that feeling so he gets up and follows Damen. If he is to be sent away, then he should learn how to fight anyway;

——

They’re having a festivity to celebrate the beginning of winter. Nicaise thinks it’s stupid, because who wants to celebrate winter? He knows it’s only a pretext, of course; they need to show themselves as a united couple before Laurent’s coronation. It will be easier to claim their marriage is a loving one this way.

Nicaise is bored, of course. He couldn’t sit next to them tonight, as it was requested that both Kings (well, king and future one) sat by themselves in front of their people. Still, Nicaise is on the next table, the one reserved for the close family. It’s not enough to bring him peace, not when he has to watch as Laurent and Damen laugh together, sharing private jokes and sharing kisses when they think no one is watching. There was a time when it was to him that Laurent was whispering things during those dinners. They would always sit next to each other and try to distract the other as best as possible. It could be anything, from commenting on people's dresses to talking about the latest gossip or the new magic trick they learned.

His eyes catch a man on the other side of the room. He’s older than Damen and seems of a good family if his clothes are of any indication. He’s not particularly pretty, but not ugly either. He thinks they were introduced before, but he can’t remember his name. The man lifts his glass in Nicaise’s direction and Nicaise smiles. He waits a few minutes before getting up and when he leaves the room, he turns around and winks at the man.

He’s only alone in the hallway for a few minutes before the man joins him.

“Pretty celebration, isn’t it?” Nicaise asks.

“I don’t know. I was too distracted to notice.”

Nicaise wants to roll his eyes. There was a time when those kinds of words would have affected him, but it was a long time ago now. Still, he smiles and pretends to be touched. He tried to mimic Laurent’s expression yesterday. Sitting in front of his mirror, he was never able to get the same smile, nor the same light in his eyes. He supposes it’s because Laurent isn’t pretending.

The man gets closer to him until he’s able to put his hand on Nicaise’s hip. His hand is so big that he could probably break Nicaise with it only, and the thought sends a cold shiver down his spine. Nikandros was sitting at the same table as him and he suddenly hopes he noticed him leaving.

“Did your parents already promise your hand to someone?”

“My parents?”

“I was good friend with the Regent you see, so I know the Prince doesn’t have me in his heart, but if we were to fall in love, surely he would reconsider his opinion of me.”

“I don’t-”

Nicaise doesn’t finish his sentence because suddenly, the door opens and the hand that was on his hips disappears. It’s too late, though, for Damen already saw what was happening. Still standing in front of the door, he gives one look at Nicaise before putting his eyes on the man next to him.

“Your majesty, we were -”

He doesn’t finish his sentence either. In one instant, the door is being shut again and Damen is holding the man by his throat, his feet not touching the ground anymore while his face is already a dark shade of red. He’s doing it like it’s nothing, his arm barely contracting from the effort. His eyes are dark, his lips tight. Here he is, the Gods-blessed King they all talk about.

“We are not in Vere,” Damen says. “We don’t fuck children here, and certainly not mine. Do you understand?”

The man can’t answer, but the fear in his eyes is enough to tell Damen that he understood him perfectly. He lets him drop on the floor and motions for him to go away. The man, after a brief pause, gets up and runs for his life without a single hesitation.

It’s only the two of them, then, and they stay in silence for a long time, Damen refusing to look at him while Nicaise plays the words he said in his head again and again. He understands the language and yet, the words don’t make sense.

“I wanted it,” Nicaise says after a while. “I wanted him.”

Damen finally looks at him and there’s sadness in his eyes, as long as a tenderness he only reserves for Laurent.

“You’re fourteen. You do not know what you want.”

“Are you jealous? Do you want to fuck me like your fucking Laurent? Make me bend over and take it?”

Damen seems insulted by his words and Nicaise can see he’s trying to hold himself back. Laurent had told him so, didn’t he? That Damen was a right man, a good one. That he never fucked boys, children, but Nicaise knows better. Men are evil creatures, all of them.

“I’m so sorry that this is your way of thinking,” Damen says, finally. “I understand it, but Nicaise, I make you the promise, here and there, that I will never touch you and that as long as I’m alive, I’ll not let a man touch you without your express consent. But to get your consent, I need you to be an adult, which you are not.”

“Nobody ever cared about that.”

His words hit Damen again, his face twisting in that awful grimace that he does when someone mentions something unpleasant. Yet, he forces himself to relax and comes closer to Nicaise, until he’s able to wrap one arm around his shoulders.

“Come. We asked them to make your favorite dessert, it would be a shame to miss it.”

——

Damen makes him practice three times a week. At first, Nicaise wants to refuse, but he can’t deny how good it feels to be able to let out his anger. Damen lets him hit, but then he hits back, with only one percent of his real force and it’s enough to send Nicaise straight to the ground. Then, once he’s up again, Damen teaches him how to hit harder and how to defend himself. They’re only two weeks along but already, Nicaise feels stronger. He almost wishes someone would attack him so he could test his knowledge.

Their session of the day is over, they sit on the ground, their bodies covered in sweat and their breathing irregular. With the way the sun is hitting them, he can understand why they fight naked around here. Not Damen and him, of course, and so they have to deal with the heavy heat and the way their clothes stick to their bodies.

“You’ll need to learn how to handle a sword, too.”

“Will you teach me?”

“No, Laurent is better than I am. He’ll teach you if you ask him.”

He’s aware that Laurent is watching them from one of the windows. He always does, although he still barely talks to Nicaise. He almost wants to go and apologize, but he can’t bring himself to do it. He doesn’t deserve forgiveness: bringing Auguste into the conversation was a low move, he can admit it.

“I’m not planning on going to war, I don’t need to know how to fight on a battlefield.”

Nicaise closes his eyes and enjoys the feeling of the sun on his face. He loves the way his body burns and now that they’re not fighting anymore, he can feel himself relaxing. He wonders if he could convince Damen to take him to the sea today.

“Laurent and I will have kids, one day,” Damen says after a while.

Nicaise opens his eyes and looks at him for a long moment, trying to catch the moment Damen will say it’s a joke. The moment doesn’t come.

“Good luck with that.”

“They will need a big brother. One that is to them what Auguste was to Laurent. What Laurent is to you, in a way. Someone who loves them with all their heart and soul. The world is a scary place and they will need someone to guide them through it.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I want it to be you. You’ll be our children’s brother. I’ll never claim to be your father, not as a whole, but I’ll promise to love you and protect you until I’m no longer alive. In exchange, I want you to give the same things to your siblings.”

“Is Laurent aware of your plan?”

“Do you think I would go against my King's wish?”

When Nicaise lifts his eyes, he catches Laurent staring at him from the window.

“No, I guess not.”

——

It is Laurent who decides to make the first move.

It’s late at night when he comes knocking on Nicaise’s door, a book in his hands.

“It’s your favorite,” Laurent says. “I asked them to send it from Vere. I figured you must have missed it.”

He did and so he lets Laurent step into the room while Nicaise goes back into his bed, burying himself under the cover with only his arms out. Laurent closes the door before sitting on the bed next to him. The book is childish, but it’s the first one Laurent read to him after he was “adopted” by the Regent. Nicaise’s memories from that time are dark and painful, hands touching him where he didn’t want to, lips on his body, bad taste in his mouth. But then there’s Laurent’s sweet voice, reading him a story about a princess and her horse. Then, between the darkness, there’s Laurent’s light. Their relationship was never perfect and more often than not, they would scream at each other, fighting for a love that wasn’t here, to begin with, but over the years, they grew closer. So close that Nicaise thought for a moment that it would last forever.

“Auguste used to read it to me,” Laurent confesses. “It was stupid because I was a very good reader and didn’t need anyone to read to me, but I let him do it because it was nice.”

Nicaise tries to picture it, little Laurent and his King-to-be brother, sitting just like they are now, reading a stupid book without knowing that soon, it would be their last time doing so. Nicaise hadn’t met Auguste and yet he thinks of him the same way he thinks of Laurent: like a protector, always watching over him.

“Will you read it to me? Like before.”

Laurent nods and they get closer until their arms are touching and Nicaise can put his head on Laurent’s shoulder. He reads the book, then, but Nicaise barely listens to him, having heard the stories time and time again. Instead, he focuses on Laurent’s smell, the way his body feels against him, and how much he misses him. He should apologize, but the words won’t leave his mouth so he doesn’t. Laurent must know he’s sorry anyway.

The story ends with the princess marrying a foreign prince and Nicaise almost wants to laugh. He doesn’t. They stay still, the room quiet except for the sound of the candle next to his bed.

“I’ll leave him,” Laurent says after a while. “If you ask me, I’ll leave him.”

“But you love him.”

“Yes, I do. And I also love you. Not the same way, of course. Damen is my soulmate. He’s the part of me that was missing. He makes me whole. It’s… I hope you’ll find that kind of love, one day.”

“He’s your whole,” Nicaise repeats, his heart tightening. “So what am I? Why would you give up on him for me?”

Laurent looks at him, confusion written on his face. Then he lifts his hand and pushes Nicaise’s hair away from his face. Since Damen came in, Laurent has been more loving, and more affectionate. Before they fight, he would sometimes come and play with Nicaise’s hair, or let his fingers longer around his shoulders. It’s nothing like the Regent. It’s love, like the kind that parent gives to their children, although Nicaise knows it’s stupid to think that way.

“Because Damen is my soulmate, but you are my heart. I may not have given birth to you, but I love you all the same.”

“You’re not my dad.”

“No, I am not. But does it matter?”

Nicaise’s dad sold him to the Regent for a few golden coins. Nicaise’s mom didn’t kiss him goodbye when he left.

“Damen wants children,” Nicaise says. “Do you want them to?”

Laurent’s cheeks darken and he nodes.

“I thought… I thought I wouldn’t live long enough to have them, but now I do. I want to.”

He tries to imagine it, Laurent and Damen sitting on the sand, children running around them, girls and boys alike. He finds it easy to imagine, and even easier to imagine himself running around with them.

“I had siblings before. They were not like Auguste. We didn’t like each other very much.”

“It happens sometimes, I suppose.”

“What I mean is: I know better, now. I can be a good brother, like Auguste was to you.”

Laurent smiles before taking his hand into his.

“I don’t need you to be like Auguste, Nicaise. You are more than enough just the way you are.”

“Even if I’m mean sometimes?”

“Well yes, even if you’re mean sometimes. Although, I would like it better if you could only direct that anger to me and not to the babes.”

“I won’t hurt them,” he promises. “I’ll teach them how to torment Nikandros and Jord, though.”

“I was expecting that much,” Laurent says with a smile. “So Damen? Can he stay?”

“Yeah. He’s alright, I suppose.”

Nicaise wonders if in centuries, there will be books talking about the King blessed by the gods and his husband, cursed by those same ones, whose love was strong enough to defeat everything. He wonders if those books will talk about him, a child destined to nothing and yet, who ends up with everything, including a string of siblings. He bets his story will be better than theirs.

[paipertrails]

Cold shadows

Characters: Leila Markova (OC) , Misha Markova(OC), Jason Todd (Red Hood) Setting: Gotham City (The Narrows) Word Count: ~5,000 TW: Assault, Violence.

The chill of Gotham's winter cut through the air like a blade, sharp enough to bite into the exposed skin on Leila’s hands. Her coat, worn and thin, provided little warmth as she hurried down the dimly lit streets of the Narrows. The neon signs above flickered weakly, casting shadows on the crumbling walls, while the smell of damp, decay, and oil lingered in the air.

“Hold tight, Mishka (little bear),” she whispered to her son, his small hand tucked securely in hers. Misha, just four years old, was quiet as always. His wide, dark eyes mirrored the caution in hers, and his lips, pressed into a firm line, rarely spoke unless he was sure they were safe.

They weren’t far from their apartment, but in the Narrows, every step felt like walking a tightrope over a pit of wolves. Leila knew better than most that the city had teeth, and they were always waiting for someone too slow or too weak to escape.

She adjusted the bag of groceries on her shoulder—a meager collection of bread, a tin of soup, and a few apples. She was doing her best to make the money last. After all, she had more than just herself and Misha to think about. The child growing inside her seemed to kick in agreement, and she absentmindedly rubbed her belly.

The tension in her spine never left. She had learned too much, seen too much, to ever truly relax in Gotham. Her escape from captivity had been nothing short of a miracle, but Gotham’s underworld was as dark as the one she’d fled, if not darker. Her trafficker’s empire had crumbled back in Europe, but that didn’t mean there weren’t remnants of his network lurking in this city.

They were halfway down the block when Leila’s stomach dropped. The faint echo of footsteps behind them sent her pulse racing. She glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of a group of men emerging from the shadows of a nearby alley.

They were too close. Too fast.

“Hey!” one of them called, his voice slurred with the unmistakable edge of trouble. “Where you goin’, sweetheart?”

Leila’s grip tightened around Misha’s hand. “Keep walking, Mishka,” she whispered, her voice calm but firm. “Don’t stop.”

The footsteps grew louder, closer, until she could hear their heavy breaths and feel the heat of their presence at her back.

“Hey! I said stop!” The voice, closer now, carried a sharper tone of impatience.

Leila pulled Misha behind her, turning to face the approaching men. Three of them—grimy, with matted hair and clothes that stank of stale smoke and sweat. The leader, a rat-faced man with beady eyes, stepped forward, a leering smile curling on his lips.

“Looks like you’re lost, darling. How ‘bout we help you find your way?” he sneered, his eyes sweeping over her and Misha with a sickening familiarity.

Leila stood her ground, her heart racing in her chest. Her hand instinctively slid to her coat pocket, where a small knife rested. She had never used it, but she wasn’t going to let them hurt her or her son. Not again. Not ever.

“Leave us alone,” she said, her voice low and steady.

The rat-faced man chuckled, taking a step closer. “Come on now, no need to be like that. We’re just having a bit of fun. How ‘bout you show us what’s in that bag?”

Before she could react, a figure dropped from the rooftop above with terrifying silence. The sound of impact was soft, but the air around them shifted, heavy with the presence of something—or someone—far more dangerous than the thugs.

Leila barely had time to register the movement before the figure stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, clad in a black jacket and body armor, a red helmet concealing his face. In his hands were two sleek, black pistols, but they weren’t raised. Not yet.

The thugs froze, momentarily stunned. The rat-faced man’s sneer faltered as his eyes flickered to the new arrival.

—the Red Hood.

“Walk away,” Hood said, his voice cold and flat, carrying the weight of a command that left no room for negotiation.

The rat-faced man glared but didn’t move. “Who the hell are you?”

Red Hood tilted his head slightly, the red of his helmet glinting under the dim streetlights. “Last chance,” he said, the faintest hint of amusement creeping into his tone. “Walk away. Now.”

The tension hung in the air, thick and oppressive, before the rat-faced man made his decision. With a growl, he lunged forward, his hand reaching for a knife at his belt.

But Hood was faster—so much faster.

In a blur of movement, Hood struck, his gun crashing into the thug’s jaw with a sickening crack. The man crumpled to the ground, unconscious before he hit the pavement. The other two barely had time to react before Red Hood was on them. One was sent flying into the wall with a well-placed kick to the chest, while the other found himself disarmed and pinned to the ground, Hood’s boot pressed against his throat.

Leila stood frozen, her heart thudding wildly in her chest. Misha clung to her leg, his wide eyes watching the scene in silence.

The Red Hood didn’t speak as he stared down at the last thug, the pressure from his boot enough to keep the man gasping for air but not enough to crush his windpipe.

“You’re done,” He growled softly, his voice low and lethal. “Get out of here. If I see you again, you won’t be walking away.”

He lifted his boot, and the man scrambled to his feet, dragging his unconscious friend with him as he fled down the alley without looking back. The silence that followed was suffocating, the only sound the distant hum of traffic and the faint clinking of metal as he holstered his guns.

Leila stared at him, unsure whether to thank him or fear him. She had heard of Red Hood—heard the stories of his brutal methods and his willingness to kill. She wasn’t sure what to expect now that he stood before her.

He turned to her, his gaze unreadable behind the red visor. For a moment, they stood in silence, neither of them moving. Then, he spoke, his voice quieter than before but still carrying that same cold edge.

“You alright?”

Leila blinked, snapping out of her trance. She nodded slowly, though her heart was still racing. “Yes… thank you.”

Hood's gaze shifted down to Misha, who was peeking out from behind her leg. His expression softened, just slightly. “You need to be more careful,” he said, his tone gruff but not unkind. “The Narrows isn’t safe.”

Leila let out a bitter laugh, though there was no humor in it. “No place in Gotham is safe.”

He didn’t argue. He simply nodded, as if he understood more than she realized. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving Leila and Misha standing in the alley, the cold wind biting at their skin.

For a long moment, Leila stood there, her mind racing, trying to process what had just happened. She had been ready to fight—to protect Misha no matter the cost—but Red Hood had appeared out of nowhere, like a ghost in the night. And then he was gone, just as quickly as he had come.

She looked down at Misha, who was staring up at her with wide, trusting eyes. “Let’s go home, Mishka,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “We’re almost there.”

_______________________

LMK if you have any questions or requests for fics or oneshots ! If you wanna read more about Leila and Misha, interact with the story in some way, love you guys. Yes, even the silent readers <3

[ourtearsofrain]

Chapter 2- Ready for the Garden

Pairings: Jake Kiszka x Reader

Genre: angst

Word Count: little over 1.7 k

Warnings: being held at sword point, Sam’s a little crazy and Josh has trust issues, talking about killing someone but just as a pirate tale, brief mention of prostitution

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

Your hands fly up in surrender as you hold your breath, afraid that even the smallest sound would earn you a meeting with The Master.

A taller man who also bears a striking resemblance to Jacob comes into view; his long brown hair pulled back with a small scrap of purple fabric as he grins at you maniacally, his eyes alight with an intense hunger.

“What do we have here, Jacob? A hostage? Please tell me it’s Helena’s right-hand man.”

Jacob reaches for the sword at your throat, pushing it away from you and allowing you to take a much-needed breath now that the threat of the blade is gone.

“They’re not, Samuel. This is Polaris, and no harm will come to them on this ship.”

“So we’re collecting pets now, Jacob? What the fuck were you thinking, bringing them back to the ship with you?”

He takes a step towards the other man, using the inch of height he had on him to his advantage.

“My judgement will not be questioned, Joshua. This is my ship, may I remind you. My question is, what are you doing off The God Song?”

Joshua sheaths his sword, glaring at his brother as he responds shortly, “Daniel and I came over to find you as soon as we heard the first cannon fire. We need to leave, now. How many times have I told you not to venture into town alone when we make port?”

“You are not my master. As I said, this is my ship, and I will do what I please.”

Joshua squares him up for a few moments, clenching his jaw before turning his attention back to you.

“You will stay out of the way. Our downfall will not be because of some street rat my brother found in an alley.”

He turns his attention to another man, standing on the other side of Samuel quietly. “Daniel, you stay here and keep them out of the way. Samuel, you’re coming back to The God Song with me.” Is all he says before turning to walk across the deck towards a large plank of wood connecting the two ships.

“What? Why can’t I stay here with them?” Samuel turns towards you with a glint in his eye. “I bet I could have some real fun with Jacobs new pet.”

“And that is exactly why you are coming with me. As much as I disagree with Jacob’s choices, this is his ship. I have no jurisdiction over what becomes of them here.”

Samuel bares his teeth before turning to follow his brother onto The God Song.

“Alright, lads! Get a fucking move on, there’s no time to waste!” Jacob shouts at his crew as they quickly scramble to ready the ship to set sail.

“Take them to my quarters, keep them safe and out of the way.” Is all he says to Daniel before he too springs into motion to ready the ship for sailing.

You feel a warm hand take ahold of your bicep as Daniel begins steering you towards the captains’ quarters. “C’mon.”

Just as Jacob had directed, you say nothing, allowing him to lead you down corridors as men scurry past you. You come to a stop at a large room, taking a seat by a table covered in various hand drawn maps as Daniel closes the door behind you.

“So, Polaris, right? You must be something special for the captain to take such a quick liking to you.”

“You’re The Archer.”

Daniel laughs at this as he takes a seat across from you. “Yes, I am. But you can call me Danny.”

You say nothing as you eye the man, not sure whether to trust him or not.

He waits for you to say something and when you don’t, offers a small sincere smile. “You hungry?”

At the mention of food, your stomach answers the question for you, having not eaten since that morning before you had gone down to The Black Smoke.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then.” He stands, making his way towards the door before turning back to you. “Don’t leave this room, or it’ll be both our heads.”

With that he disappears, leaving you alone to take in your surroundings. Much like the table before you, the walls were covered in hand drawn maps and battle plans, the planks of the walls hidden by hundreds of pieces of parchment. Various daggers, swords, and pistols lay scattered across multiple tables around the room, and you make a mental note of each one as a backup plan. Set into the wall across from the door sits a large bed, covered with expensive-looking sheets and fabrics mainly dyed blood red and black.

Daniel returns moments later as he enters the room and securely closes the door behind him. He tosses you a ripe apple, bright red with streaks of yellow.

“We were planning on restocking our food supply in town but, that didn’t happen for obvious reasons. It’s not much but, it’s something.”

You eye the apple in your hand, still unsure whether to trust The Archer, Danny, or not. Your stomach protests as you set it on the table, turning your attention once more to Danny as he takes the seat across from you.

“You can eat it, I swear it’s not poisoned or rotten or anything like that.”

You say nothing, keeping your eyes fixed on him and your features blank.

He sighs, shaking his head with a small smile. “You don’t have to trust me, but it’ll make your life a hell of a lot easier if you do. I trusted you not to make a run for it or try and kill me with one of the many weapons we both know are in this room. Now you must choose if you want to trust me. If I wanted to kill you, I would have done so already.”

You consider this for a moment, deciding you would find out if he was telling the truth sooner or later.

They’re probably going to kill me eventually anyways.

Bringing the apple to your lips, you take in its intoxicatingly sweet aroma before finally taking the first bite. You groan at the taste, quickly taking another bite as its flavor melts on your tongue.

Danny cocks an amused eyebrow at you, smiling as he observes. “It’s good right? We got those from Giapan. I swear, all other apples are ruined for me now.”

You say nothing, your mouth full as you quickly devour the apple until it is reduced to nothing but its core. You set it back on the table, moving a few maps so that its juice wouldn’t tarnish the parchment.

“Thank you.”

“Of course. So, Polaris, tell me about yourself. How did you meet the captain? He was only gone for a few hours before the attack started, your brief interaction must have been something special.”

The look on his face instantly tells you how he thinks you met Jacob.

“I’m not a street whore.”

“Didn’t say you were. There’d be nothing wrong with it if you were.”

“You were thinking it, weren’t you?”

“Maybe. Jacob doesn’t get attached to strangers easily, especially enough so to save them from Lady Helena’s blade.”

“I served in a pub, The Black Smoke. I happened to be next to him when the attack started, I don’t know why he saved me.”

“Huh, you and me both.” He pauses for a moment. “Again, Polaris. Your parents were sailors then?”

“Yes. Well, my dad was. He took… morally questionable jobs.”

Danny grins, “Ah, so he was a pirate?”

“You could say that. Although, Polaris isn’t actually my name, Jacob gave me that.”

“So then, what is your name?”

You pause before responding, the memory raging through your head of your town set alight. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Whoever I was before now died along with my home.”

“That’s fair. Do you know what it means? Polaris?”

You only shake your head as your hand comes up to toy with your star pendant, a nervous habit you’d had for years.

Dannys eyes shoot down as the light catches across the worn metal, a smile on his face as he puts two and two together.

“It’s the North Star; our most reliable way of navigating the seas. Looks like you’re Jacobs North Star.”

Your hand stops as you look at Danny quizzically. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugs, still smiling at you from across the table. “Ask him.”

You say nothing for a few moments until your curiosity gets the best of you.

“How did you get your name, “The Archer”?”

“Have you not heard the stories? Working in a pub by the docks, I would have thought so, with all the sailors that must come through your doors.”

“I’ve heard you shot a British Admiral in the eye straight through his telescope from a mile away, dangling only by a single rope from the Figurehead of The Ether.”

Danny laughs loud and bright at this. “Through his telescope? From a mile away and dangling from a rope? These tales really do get tall. Well, I hate to ruin the story for you but, it was only 500 feet. And while I did shoot him in the eye while I was perched on the figurehead, it was not through his telescope nor while I was dangling from it.”

“500 feet. Still impressive.”

You fail to contain a large yawn, your mind and body exhausted from the day you had had.

Danny motions towards the bed with his chin. “You can sleep if you need, we still have a few hours before we make dock next.”

Sensing your hesitation, he continues. “I promise I won’t kill you in your sleep. Trust, remember? Plus, Jacob told me to keep you safe.”

“Alright…” you stay as you stand. You awkwardly climb into the bed, not knowing how Jacob would feel about you sleeping in his bed, but your body instantly relaxes into the soft silks of the sheets despite the thought. Before you know it, you’re falling fast into a deep, dream-filled sleep.

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

Suddenly, the sound of water drumming violently against the planks above rips you from sleep, your eyes going wide with fear.

“What is that?”

Once again, Danny flashes you a toothy smile. “The waterfall. We’re here.” He says as he stands, making his way towards the door and waiting for you to follow.

“Where is here?”

“The Garden.”

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A/N: the title, of course, is taken from the lyrics to The Indigo Streak

[emmedoesntdomath]

Hi prepare for the spam

🥰Snitch🥰

Who is def in love with Lorenzo (Itey)

don’t even get me started on my itey rant. one time was probably one time too many.

in current definitions, “snitch” means to essentially rat someone out. this definition doesn’t really transcend as far as 1990, as it also to means to steal. that’s likely the definition that was used by the newsies, so it’s the one we’re using.

snitch is an older newsie in 92sies, and yes, he’s definitely in love with his best friend, itey. does itey know this? debatable. mush and blink definitely know (he’s not exactly subtle), and tease him about it relentlessly (kind of hypocritical, honestly, considering how they act around each other). but snitch nearly broke his own nose the first time he saw lorenzo due to an unfortunately placed rock and the sudden lack of conscious thought occurring in his brain.

also, he’s one of those idiots who thinks flirting is insulting the other person. cue interactions with snitch going, “I like- I mean, you’ve got something on your face. it looks stupid.” and itey, who doesn’t actually have anything on his face, scrubbing at the spot snitch pointed out. “thanks, I guess?”

(mush and blink snickering in the background)

snitch became a newsie when his dad died, and when he and his sister were left on their own. honestly? he did it by accident. he was trying to nab some coins from a sleeping kid (who he didn’t know was a newsie named mush), and got caught with his hand in their bag by blink, who came in swinging a stick like a sword and yelling at the top of his lungs.

mush takes pity on the kid, because he’s clearly terrified, and they drag him to the distribution booth, introducing him as ‘the kid who tried to snitch some dimes from mush here’. and- ta da! snitch was born.

(yes, I’m making another name ironic for my own personal enjoyment. and what of it?) (also, remind me to do another mush post later. my first one was criminally small.)

he’s not the best at selling, admittedly. he doesn’t always know what to say, and is a VERY bad actor. but he gets better, at least enough to make a small living. he brings it home at night for food for him and his sister, and goes back to try to make a little more in the morning. it’s not fun, or sustainable by any means, but snitch makes due.

not by stealing, though. he’s still really bad at that.

when they go on strike, he’s one of the first to join the union. later, itey finds him in a dark alley, panicking about money and how he was going to explain himself to his sister. they bicker until he calms down, and then he (accidentally) (he doesn’t really do anything on purpose. he just has really shitty luck) trips into itey and they kiss.

the next time is less of an accident, but itey doesn’t need to know that.

[onthenightwatch]

[Content warning! This has someone being fed a whole ass dead rat. So uh. Yeah don't read this if you don't want to see that.]

[Video recording begin.]

[Via: Back_Alley_Cam.]

[For the first minute or so, it’s empty. Just a low down camera in an alley. Until there is shouting and jeering from further down, it is a jumbled mess of insults and taunts. And a group of 5 people comes into frame.]

[Among them, is a man with brown hair and a black hoodie, he’s being shoved along by the other 4, arms behind his back. They reach the center of the alley, and grab him. Pushing him to the ground. He finally faces the camera, revealing the man to be Edgar.]

[He already appears battered, a few bruises line his neck, along with his hands. There is likely more under his clothing. His eyes scan the group over and over, eventually stopping to make eye contact with the leader, a familiar blond man.]

Jason: Hold him.

[The three others move to follow the order. Edgar struggles, but it’s no use.]

[Jason takes a step forward, Edgar pulls back. Or… attempts to. The three other members of the group make sure he can’t. One of them holding tight onto his head. He can’t turn away.]. 

[Edgar glares at Jason, but doesn’t say anything. He knows better.]

J: Now…

[Jason abruptly reaches forward, grabbing Edgar’s jaw tightly. The latter shouts in surprise, at which Jason laughs. Jason pulls down more than he should on Edgar’s jaw, causing tears to well up in Edgar’s eyes. His hands tense, clearly trying to break free from whatever is holding them to make Jason stop. It doesn’t work. He can’t move from the spot he’s being held in.]

[He pulls a little more, pushing Edgar’s jaw to its limit. It looks excruciating. Edgar’s hands tense a little more, as does the rest of his body. His eyes are wide, glancing around for someone, anyone, to come to his aid. Nobody. Jason looks up at one of the three other men.]

J: Quinten? 

[The one called takes one hand off of Edgar, and hands Jason something small, and furry. A dead rat. Half rotted. Edgar’s eyes fill with panic, and he tries to say something. But he can’t. His head is pulled back, extending his jaw slightly more, his breathing quickens, and his eyes dart around frantically.]

J: I hope you’re fucking hungry.

[He slowly takes the rat, holding it by the tail, and dangles it over Edgar’s mouth. Edgar attempts to break free from the others. But they hold fast. It takes Jason around 20 seconds to even get it close to the man’s mouth. Once he does, though, he pauses. Taking a few seconds to let everything sink in, before letting go of the tail. As the rat lands on Edgar’s tongue, Jason forces his jaw closed, the tail still somewhat hanging out of his mouth. Edgar looks to be getting paler and paler by the second.]

J: [Mocking tone.] Go on. Eat it. 

[Edgar looks pleadingly at Jason.]

J: What? I thought you were starving! Come on. Eat.

[Nothing, Edgar doesn’t dare to open his mouth to spit the likely bug-infested rotting rodent out, but he doesn’t do anything.]

J: You can’t leave until you fucking eat it. Hurry it up. Or we’re going to do much worse shit to you than just this.

[Edgar still does not do anything.]

J: Fine! Be that way!

[Jason takes out a knife and holds it to his eye.]

J: I hope you aren’t too fond of your eyes, bitch.

[Edgar attempts to pull away again, but to no avail. He looks desperate, and terrified.]

J: Make your choice. The rat? Or the eyes?

[Slowly, and very reluctantly, Edgar begins to chew. A sickening, muffled rhythmic crunching sound is heard. Edgar swallows, bit by bit, eating the dead rodent. Tears stream down his face, either from pain or nausea, likely both. After 20 minutes of this, he appears to be done. His whole body is shaking. The three other men back off, and Jason takes this as an opportunity to kick him in the ribs, knocking him to the ground. Then pushing his head into the concrete with his foot.]

[Jason leans down and whispers something inaudible to Edgar, who shakes his head as best he can. Jason laughs, and motions to his group to leave.] 

[Edgar now lays alone in the alley. Blood leaking from his slightly open mouth as he sits there, unmoving, unblinking, unresponsive. He seems to stare off into the distance for a second. Before realizing that the 4 men are gone.]

[A harsh gust of wind goes by, and he seems to shiver. Using his hands, he pushes himself up, before a noise in the direction where the 4 men vanished startles him, and he falls down, a small spatter of blood appearing on the concrete near his mouth as he lands.]

[One of the other men, the one Jason had called forward with the rotting rodent, Quinten, approaches.]

Quinten: Forgot to do something.

[Quinten takes something metallic out of his pocket, Edgar attempts to move away, but Quinten darts forward and grabs his arm, dragging him over to a large pipe in the center of the camera's view. Quickly cuffing him to the pipe.]

Edgar: [Raspy, through choked sounds.] Are y– [A cough.] –ou d– done no– now?

Q: Nope!

[Quinten retrieves a knife from his pocket, and jams it into Edgar’s leg. Edgar immediately begins choking. The man spits up a small amount of blood and jerks forwards. He looks just about ready to throw up. Quinten takes the knife out and stabs him in various other places. Each time he does, more red liquid is spat up. It trails down Edgar’s face. After one last stab, the knife is left in, and Quinten stands.]

E: Fffu– [Coughing.] –ffuck you.

Q: Mhm. 

[Quinten leans down again, and reaches into Edgar’s jacket pocket. Pulling out a phone.]

Q: I hope you weren’t planning on calling for help, fucker.

[He places the phone a small ways away from Edgar. Just out of his reach. Edgar stares at it wistfully.]

Q: See ya.

[Quinten finally leaves, Edgar’s eyes follow him until he’s out of sight. Once he’s gone, he reaches his leg out to try and grab the phone, he’s a foot short. He tries again. Still too far.]

[After his third attempt, he gives up, sliding his leg back towards himself. He tries to shout, but he begins spitting up more blood, along with small chunks of fur and bone. He doesn’t try again. Instead, he just lets his head fall, leaning against the wall behind him. And he begins to sob.]

[Recording end]

[caffeinelemur]

ur tag about being picky ruining vacations rings so true. i remember going on a trip with my best friend and he took me to an italian restaurant (pasta is my safe food) and because i couldnt make it myself i had to sit there with his whole family eating and me with nothing and they all questioned it so fucking awkward 😭

Yeah my stepdad has this crusade against my “eating habits” that’s grown in intensity and stupidity since I was like eight. At first it was something between eating with the family/making me eat healthy/vegetables? (Was forced to eat food I didn’t like for several years + has a strong gag reflex + literally cannot eat things I don’t like, why would you do that) Or something, but then it also became fights during trips bc I just wanted my safety/favorite and he wanted to eat at some random fucking place in a different state that doesn’t serve food I eat anyway, and then I got Diagnoses™️ and he decided I made all of them up and lied to my doctor to get idk what attention and meds? and when we told him my doctor diagnosed most of that without me prompting it he was like it’s bc nutrition like bitch I don’t think my samefood gave me bipolar.

Anyway, we barely go anywhere and whenever we do I can’t even get excited bc I’m just like. We’re gonna fight about food the entire time and eventually I’ll just tell them to go do whatever they want and I’ll not eat anything for lunch and stay in the car bc I’m tired and overwhelmed and take a car nap with my noise cancelling headphones on loud music playing all I wanted was to spend like seven to eleven dollars to eat a decent amount of food and get a big ass drink but no now we’re doing this. You can still go you your fucking choice I’m not making you eat my food leave me in the car with a ridiculous fast food order a huge soda and music and fuck off to your own food adventure I’ll be dandy, but no. (My spectrum in a different flavor mother tries her best to get me fed somehow and is probably the only one between the three of us keeping me alive, and all she gets is anxiety. Sorry mom.)

Also somewhere right before high school I gained a fun new eating disorder and between that and my always reliable forgetting-to-eat I kept dipping below into underweight, so my doctor told me not to worry about healthy vs junk or anything right then just try to focus on eating something even if it’s chips or whatever. I had a timer on my phone to remind me it was like 11 or 2 or smth maybe try a snack?? I brought a snack size bag of chips for lunch every day it’s all I could figure out. And mom heard this and was like ok, nightly McDonald’s runs aren’t a battle anymore bc she knew my cardinal rule of food is no matter what I can and will eat McDonald’s. Like even at my most ill can’t look at a cracker I can and will eat that hamburger and be fine. I got back up to barely technically but still healthy weight for a little while bc of it. Eat your samefood your doctor says it’s fine if anyone says otherwise throw a nearby object at them and run this is the moral of the story I think

In college I survived off fast food someone helped me get and vending machine payday bars. Like I can’t drive and I lost half my silverware in that move when I was seven so now I’m running on like three spoons max. I’m like a scrungly raccoon with opinions. Little garbage rat only takes pizza from that one place’s trash. Alley cat that is too tired to try anymore and keeps coming to your porch bc you gave me something out of pity once.

My things with my foods is I will have I Can Have This Specific Thing From This Specific Place, or I Like This Sort Of Food Generally But I Have Extreme Opinions About It. Sometimes they overlap. Examples: I mention McDonald’s. I only ever order the same thing. Very specific. It’s a Hamburger (I won’t go into detail). I can eat other hamburgers but Generally I don’t want to and have opinions about them. If you do it Correctly at home it’s fine. Other places I don’t really like. On the other hand, I Have Extreme Pizza Opinions but I have several places I’ll eat at that qualify. It’s one of the easiest of my samefoods probably to find in a pinch, we just do research and try. I really love pizza so maybe I’m more open to figuring it out than I am w hamburgers bc I’m not like I love hamburgers it’s I love specifically McDonald’s lol. I also have a samedrink and it’s Dr. Pepper, which sadly is bad for my long term health and I’ve had fights and lectures about this for eons as well, but it’s far too late now and I don’t give a shit.

[gohar-adventures]

Have you seen this Floon?

Coming up to the Guard we had passed earlier, Saget and Hollis questioned us. We told them we'd found Renaer in the hideout and confirmed that we killed the kenku, but that the Zhentarim were already dead when we got there.

Assad: "What’s a kenku?"

Saget looked super tired and wasn’t mad about the Xanathar Guild and Zhentarim beating each other up, so he let us be, since Renaer vouched for us.

Alec, a guard stationed further south, screamed, looking scared down the alley, saying a small creature snarled at him and went down an open manhole. Saget sent Alec and Hollis down the sewers to investigate and told us to leave.

We went toward Spices Street, which was close by, and Renaer stayed with us in the hopes of finding Floon.

We found the Half Stout restaurant, which is across from a bar. The door of the restaurant was closed, but Xander used Misty Step to get inside and open the door for everyone.

Nice!

-3- was the last to go inside and got spotted by a drunk halfling who is peeing on the side of the building. He passed out, though.

The restaurant is modest, but looks well-cared for. A little too nice to be in the Dock Ward.

Cassius checked the pantry, but didn’t find anything interesting in there. Xander headed down the stairs. The walls were covered in grafitti. He steps on a creaky step, but no one seemed to notice.

We opened the door to the cellar, and it turned out to be near the Xanathar prison where Xander and I were held.

In the cellar, a 4’ rat attacked us. It bit Cassius, and -3- dealt it the final blow. The bite feels warm to Cassius, and neither -3- nor Holly could heal him. It looks like this is a curse.

The body of the rat reverted into a halfling. Assad picked up 5G from the body and gave it to Cassius.

The layout looked familiar and I was able to get to the goblin lookout closer to the cells. I was able to take out a sleeping goblin guard, pointing out the door to the cells to Xander.

Most of the group went inside to the cell room. Holly grabbed the keys from the fallen goblin and opened a cell where one of the Zhentarim agents that helped me escape is locked.

I ask him about what was on the other side of the double-doors on the right side of the room on the day they escaped and he said that it looked like a ball with tentacles.

No, thank you. No, thank you. No, thank you. No.

There was nothing else in the cell room other than the doors, so we went toward where the other sentry was stationed.

I managed to get the other sentry goblin, but another goblin came through and beat up -3- pretty bad. Going into the room and through a hallway on a higher level that crosses the water, Xander and I found a trapped chest.

I managed to open the chest without activating the trap (for once!) and found our things and a little extra beside! I kept a really beautiful bracer that had some daggers embroidered on it and Xander kept some magical paper.

There was a door past the chest and came through the west side of the room. 2 more doors were on the east side, one toward the north, and one toward the south. In the room, a pile of wooden furniture was in front of the north door, guarded by a duergar and a bald human with eyes tattooed on his head.

The duergar was so mad that we were there, but didn’t really explain what was going on. Trying to hit him, Cassius, Xander, and Holly hit the wood barricade and door instead, burning it down.

A gray ooze came out from behind the barricade to join the fun.

Xander grappled the human while he was trying to escape, but he ended up running away after we defeated the duergar and the ooze.

I misty stepped past the human to get through the other door and found Floon in the room down the hallway. He was kneeling at the feet of a half-orc, and surrounded by 2 goblins, a mind flayer, and an intellect devourer.

NO, THANK YOU! NO, THANK YOU! NO, THANK YOU!!!

While we’re battling the half-orc, the mind flayer goes past the double-doors into the room with the cells and disappears.

We managed to kill everything else and -3- laid hands on Floon to cure him.

I found the half-orc's spell book on him. Xander found 100G and 2 healing potions under the throne where the mind flayer was.

Renaer ran to Floon and apologized for getting him caught up in this mess.

Going back into the room with the cells, we noticed the pedestal in the middle of the room was gone. Hollycover, Assad, and Xander pull a lever in the corner, bringing the pedestal back, but were unable to trigger anything else.

In the room where we found Floon, -3- found a small entrance behind some wood panels, and a corridor that appeared to have been dug out. -3- went through, then Assad, who got briefly stuck, but -3- managed to pull him out. Everyone else made it through without any issues. The corridor ended at a basement.

2 halflings (a man—Peabody—and a woman) appeared on the other side of a door, looking scared and confused.

We explained that we didn’t mean any harm and let them know that their basement is connected to the sewers, asking them to take care of the corridor. We pay them 1G and they let us out, offering us some tea on the way.

We went back to the Yawning Portal and Bonnie arranged for our rooms. Assad already has a room paid for a fortnight. Hollycover, Argan, and -3- share a room. Cassius got a room on his own. Xander and I shared, since we don't need as much sleep as the others.

Once everyone was settled, Assad asked for a plate of cheese to be delivered to Cassius. Cassius could smell the cheese through the door...

Xander stayed up for a while studying from the spellbook I'd found earlier.

[grin-reapers]

ONE

Lumine wakes up to the taste of scourging metal on her lips.

Or rather, to Tobias’ slap across her face. “Glad to see you’ve woken up from your little nap,” he says, with his everlasting frown and taste for sarcasm. He presses a handkerchief against her mouth, which she realizes is now throbbing. When she draws the cloth back, it’s burned crimson red. Just great. As if the dull pain at the back of her skull wasn’t enough. She can blindly remember snippets of what happened before this; a chase, a glinting diamond, a girl with white hair, her landing on the cold hard pavement.

“Where are we?” Lumine asks with a wince, pulling herself up and taking in her surroundings. She had seemed to have passed out in an alley, the beautiful brick streets of Zenith still wonderful even when hidden between buildings. No signs of squalor to be spared even in the shadows; ridiculously divine.

“Near the city square. After that thief knocked you off your feet blind, she made a beeline towards the factory town.”

Lumine winces, one hand on the kerchief against her mouth, the other dusting off her black, two-sizes-too-big jeans. “North? Damn it. I know exactly where she’s headed.” 

Tobias yanks her up, his frown deepening. Lumine had never seen the man with anything other than a look of distaste on his face – excusing his varied displays of boredom, mild disgust, and outright disgust. It’s a shame; she’d heard rumors across the city that the prince of Zenith has a hypnotizing smile. “Don’t tell me she’s headed for Na-”

“We’re heading to Nadir.” Lumine grins, slapping the side of Tobias’ cotton sleeve with the bloody kerchief. His expression shifts to that of outright disgust. “Aren’t you excited, Toto! Your first journey underground! What joy it is for every Zenith citizen to finally descend into the dumps!” she said, whistling as she started walking towards the direction of the nearby factory town.

“I’m not heading down with you, if that’s where you’re headed. We’ve agreed on that.” said Tobias, catching up with her. He’d yanked his mask up his nose, a frail attempt to hide his identity. “I’ll do this crime fighting stuff with you, as long as I never step foot in Nadir.”

“Why? You scared?” Lumine said, flashing her teeth in a toothy smirk. “Should’ve just said so.”

“I’m not scared. I’m just not idiotic.” Tobias protested, as they dove into the city square. The sparkling city of Zenith was bustling with preparations for the annual ball to take place next month, with colorful, heavy streamers hung overhead, the center fountain adorned with decorative diamonds, and real, pure gold lining the very brick steps they’ve trodden upon. Lumine had tried to dig them up once; she’d gotten electric-shocked in return. 

“What? Isn’t going down to Nadir, like, a rite of passing for you folks? Oh rich people, come see the reality of the world outside gold pavement and castles!” Lumine said, with a mocking wave of her hands. “Or come get your dirtiest desires, your addictions, whatever your perfect city would sooner kill themselves over than to provide!”

“Keep your voice down, you fool,” Tobias said, shoving the kerchief against her mouth as he looked around to see if anyone noticed. Luckily, everyone was busy with either shopping, selling, or talking. The handful of nobles careening around are on their carriages, yanked by fat, gem-flecked show horses. “It’s like you’re trying to get caught.”

“What? Like they’d know I’m from Nadir.”

“You dress like a bum. Believe me, they’d know.”

“Oh, like they wouldn’t know you with that stupid mask on? You’re dressed in half the city’s economic value, get real.”

“It’s custom-made, they wouldn’t know that.” Tobias sniffed. “That aside, I can’t go down with you, alright? It’s dangerous, I might die, and if someone down there recognizes me, that’s the end of it. The entire city will rejoice in the scandal.” he shuddered at the mere thought of it; of his face plastered across newspapers and televisions all across Zenith. “I’d rather the Grim Reaper himself show up at my doorstep than embrace the shame of it.”

“Yeah, because a little scandal is the end of the world for you princesses. In Nadir, you wouldn’t even want to know what’s the worst that could happen to you.” 

“See? You’re proving my point.” They pass by a group of teenagers, who throw Tobias a curious look, heads scrambling to wonder why he seemed so familiar. He keeps his head down, pulling Lumine to a less populated alley. “Damn it. This is ridiculous at this point.”

“Oh, why are you so uptight about your shitty face? Acting like you’re some kind of prince or something.” Lumine said, taking off her cap and shoving it against his chest. “I’m pretty sure whoever your bigshot dad is isn’t that big of a deal, come on now. I know plenty of kids with merchant parents who aren’t as fussy as you. I bet half of these people don’t even know your name.”

With a scowl, he put it on and caught up with her. “For starters, I’m not fussy. I’m just being safe. I may just be some merchant’s son, but that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to roam the streets fighting people whenever I want.”

“You know, you wouldn’t have to worry about all that in Nadiiir.” Lumine teased, like dangling a carrot on a stick. “No one would give a damn about you down there. You could practically reinvent yourself! Name yourself Carlos and work at a random secondhand bookshop. Freedom.”

Tobias entertains the thought for a few seconds. “Tempting, but no.”

“Almost had you there.” Lumine sighs. “You know, it’s funny. We’re opposites. No one gives a flying crap about who I am up here, but down there, everyone loves me. Hey, you know what? I’m practically Nadir’s princess! Well, minus the wealth, castle, blatant authoritarianism, capitalism, slavery, and royal balls.” 

“They don’t love you. They love your superhero act, Little Miss Nightwalker. Stupid name, by the way.”

“One, rude, screw you, and two, who cares? Identity masked or not, I’m still their hero.” Lumine says languidly, a satisfied grin on her busted lip. “Nightwalker, Nadir’s number one crime-fighter, because the mandated police from Zenith don’t do shit! Phew, I’ve gotten so good at my job that sometimes, even Zenith itself needs my help!” she narrated, eyes starry with exaggerated sways of an arm. “Imagine that; the city of angels itself, needing the help of a filthy Nadirian! It’s practically a poverty-porn movie producer’s wet dream.”

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Like hell we do. You just like sticking your nose in everyone’s business.”

They took a left into a dark tunnel, leading up into the factory town of Zenith. As the manufacturing hub, it was filled to the brim with busy laborers hollering at each other, dragging items across the street. Lumine headed away from the hubbub and ducked into a dilapidated building, seemingly forgotten in the midst of rising towers of smoke and concrete dust. Once they were both inside, she let out a loud huff, echoing throughout the dark interior of the run-down factory. “You work out, right, Toto?” she said, mapping a path as her gaze traveled upwards, scanning the broken stairs, wobbly bricks, and splinting wood. 

“None of your business. Why?” Tobias said, watching as Lumine started to tie her long dark hair up in a frazzled ponytail.

Lumine grinned. “Try to keep up, then.”

And then she was off, hoisting herself up and climbing upwards to the second floor, using concrete bricks sticking out the wall to support herself. With a loud sigh, Tobias followed suit. The duo leapt over obstacles and ducked underneath metal beams, leaping across broken gaps between floors and stairs. Lumine, used to maneuvering the broken-down city of Nadir, was effortless in her stride, keeping a steady rhythm with confident movements. It’s only been three years ever since she started fighting crime in Nadir as a personality, but her dexterity and skill almost matches that of a trained Zenith general. Perhaps even better, thought Tobias, pulling himself through a broken window. I wonder if anyone has ever trained her?

Tobias and Lumine haven’t known each other for a long time. They met six months ago, and they’ve worked together ever since; both for their own benefits. Lumine needed a cover up in the big city, and Tobias had enough of his boring routine. Despite their easy banter and teamwork, however, they rarely know much about each other. All Lumine knows is that Tobias is some kind of rich merchant’s son in Zenith, and all Tobias knows is that Lumine’s some Nadir rascal who acts as a hero called Nightwalker. They’ve been able to pursue their personal goals with their easy, surface-level relationship so far, but he wonders how long they’ll be able to keep this up.

He cuts his arm on a shard of glass on the wall, and he flinches. The blood oozes out brown skin, staining the cuff of his coat sleeve. “Damn it,” he murmured. Mother will kill me. 

Even more so if she finds out I’m running around town like this.

“Tobi! What’s taking you so long?” hollered Lumine’s voice from above.

“Just a second.” he said, pressing his sleeve against the wound to staunch the bleeding. He can’t remember the last time he’d bled. Perhaps when he was a child. The pain shoots up his arm, like crackling sparks, and it’s so terribly unfamiliar that it makes his heart race in excitement. When was the last time he’d ever gotten to get out this much? To put some sort of meaning in his life again?

But I can’t possibly go down. All this crime-fighting business in Zenith is dangerous enough as it is. If he goes down, that’s a whole different story. Excusing Nadir’s adamant penchant for chaos, it’s infested with Zenith nobles. The very nobles I exchange smiles with at masquerade balls. Tobias mouth draws back into a straight line, weighing his options. Either he does the right thing and turns back now, or he jumps off the deep end.

Neither are particularly inviting.

He’s not even sure if he can trust Lumine. Lumine, who showed up on his window pane on a stormy midday. With her wild, wavy mane of obsidian hair, and eyes as grey as steel, she asked him to join her. And although it was completely out of character for him, he found himself saying yes. The reason behind his sudden impulsiveness is still for him to ponder, although he finds that he doesn’t regret the time he’d spent with the delinquent. These past six months have been the most alive he’d ever felt in a long time.

“Tobias!”

“I’m here,” he said, hoisting himself up the final step. They found themselves in a dark room, filled with nothing but a run-down elevator in the center. Lumine scampered over and yanked open the grate, inspecting the broken lock on the floor.

“Well, now we certainly know where our little thief went.” she said with a sigh before punching the elevator button. “But luckily for us, she unlocked it already. I won’t have to dial up someone I know to get the elevator up and running again.”

“I thought the bullet trains were the only ways to head underground,” said Tobias. 

Lumine shook her head. “Bullet trains are only for the Zenith folk, cause they’re the only ones who can afford it. Everyone else is forced to the bridge, which is rampant with checkpoints. Even if you get there, they catch any Nadirian who they deem suspicious and turns them away.” she said. “And it takes hours to get there. It’s literally impossible. That’s why these elevators were made. Secretly. They’re illegal, but that’s how the select few of us rascals get between cities easily.”

“And how were you able to find one of these-”

“Shh. Nadir princess, remember?” Lumine grinned, just as the elevator arrived with a shaky halt. The doors opened, leaving a cloud of dust and dirt in its wake. “Well, let’s go.” she said, stepping in.

Tobias stood in place, staring at the broken-down elevator. His ticket to the underworld. This may be his only chance to enter Nadir; to truly see it, aside from the stories and nightmares illustrated to Zenith children by their parents and mentors. It’s said that once a Zenithan entered Nadir, they don’t come out the same ever again.

Is he willing to risk that?

Lumine noticed his doubt, crossing her arms. “Hey merchant boy, we don’t have all day. Make the choice. You gonna go to hell, or stay in paradise?” she teases, knocking the rust-addled grate.

But what Lumine does not understand is this; Zenith is already his hell.

“I’m coming,” he says, ignoring Lumine’s wide grin, “as long as we’re back before dinner.”

“Okay, kindergartener. Any more demands?” she says, pressing the broken button down.

“Just one.”

“Yeah? Shoot.”

“I’m not naming myself Carlos.”

It took Lumine a second before she burst out laughing, just as the elevator rumbled shut.

[lex-munro]

[Suicide Squad Scrap] Princess pt. 16

self-indulgent batjokes-flavored SS/BvS/JL, installment 16.  this universe’s Ratcatcher is a sassy young Gotham native with the meta-human ability to speak to certain species of small mammal.

more references to past Constantine/King Shark (i can’t help that i find it hilarious).

the piece as a whole is rated Mature for pervasive language, varying degrees of violence, use of controlled substances, sexual references, questionable ethics, and themes of mental illness.  set from Flag’s POV, with references to Birds of Prey, but not compliant with The Suicide Squad.

***

“We got the north patrol,” says Ratcatcher.

“Didn’t see west patrol,” says Lawton, “but we got two of the sniper nests.”

Digger scampers into the alcove.  “Got the western patrol,” he reports.

They wait.

Nothing happens; nobody else joins them.

“Wha—where the hell’s Jones?”

“I, er…lost ‘im.”

“How do you ‘lose’ a six-foot-four lizardman with fangs?” Flag demands.

“Look, I ducked into an alley to have a quick piss, all right?”

“Fuckin’ idiot,” huffs Lawton.

“It’s all those damn energy drinks,” Flag grumbles.

“Oy!  At least it’s not lager anymore, yeah?  Intervention well received!”

“Heard you cried when King Shark read his letter to you,” Lawton says.

“Man’s got a poet’s soul.  ‘Me sad when you fall down like idiot instead of stabbing people’ hits deep when you’re hungover.  Said the only thing that ever made him sadder was when his boyfriend went to hell for like a month without a word; broke up with him over it, in fact.”

Flag tries to hail Croc on comms, but all he gets is static.

Lawton heaves a sigh.  “It’s gonna bug the shit outta me, tryna figure how they took a guy like Croc quietly.”

“Must be blowdarts, yeah?” Digger says, like that somehow makes sense.  “Saw this old guy once—four-foot-nothin’, made of pitch-black wrinkles, white hair, and spite—he could take down a kangaroo from fifty yards, completely silent.”

Flag shakes his head.  “Well, that pretty heavily implies an active enemy presence beyond guard posts, and one that might take prisoners if you look interesting enough.”

“Fuuuuck, I look so Muggle,” whines Ratcatcher.  “They’ll kill the fuck outta me.”

“What’s Muggle?” Joker asks.

“What’s—even my old ass knows what a fuckin’ Muggle is,” says Lawton.  “You ain’t seen or heard shit about Harry Potter in the last twenty years?”

“I don’t really follow celebrities outside the Gotham crowd.”

“Celebr—”

“That doesn’t matter!” Flag snaps.  “We got places to be.  And a Muggle is just a normal person.  Muggle, Normie, Vanilla.  This don’t change shit—we still stay low and quiet and assume they’re gonna try and kill us if we get spotted.”

“I mean, it changes a little,” says Ratcatcher.  “Now we gotta keep an eye out for the luggage while we’re poking around.”

“Heh, luggage,” chuckles Digger.

Joker leans around the edge of their hiding place.  “Mm.  Hm.  Hmhmhmmmmm.  Boomie, that door marked ‘maintenance’ should head down.  You verify the door to the compound.  Gun-Bunny, go get those last two snipers out of our business.  Snack-Pack, send some crunchies to verify the main servers.”

“I look like a fuckin’ Jell-O cup to you?” Ratcatcher gripes.  (“Tapioca,” Digger sasses, which earns him a boot to the shin.)  Nevertheless, as Digger wrestles with a heavy-duty cellar door, she sends two rats into a nearby vent.  (“No, I dunno what fuckin’ floor—just follow the wires.”)

Flag checks the intel tablet again.  Lawton should be able to get a line on the final sniper nest before Digger ever makes it to the compound’s entrance.  The hitman’s gone by the time Flag glances up.

Meanwhile, Ratcatcher is back in their little alcove (tying her shoe and complaining about being thirsty), and Joker is staring at the maintenance hatch while counting.

Ninety seconds later, Digger checks in on comms.

~Got a fuck-off big door here.~

“Two feet early,” says Joker, mostly to himself.  “Twins?”

~Locked up tight,~ says Digger.  ~Deffo the right way.  Bright side:  at least Satan’s got good intel.~

“Does it look computerized?” Flag asks him.

~Absolutely.  But no sign of an access panel on this end.~

Flag turns to Joker.  “If we get you to an access panel, can you hack it?”

“I look like a hacker?” Joker asks, confused.

“You hacked Harley’s nano-charge.”

Joker shrugs.  “Human factor.”

“What?”

“Found somebody who knew how and threatened ‘em until they did it for me.  It’s called ‘delegating,’ Flag.”

Ratcatcher sighs.  “Well, thanks to the jackhammer, I got a shot at it.  But drone recon said the access panel for the door is on the roof, totally separate from the server farm and all the central processing.”

~Take your time,~ Digger says.  ~Shut door ain’t goin’ nowhere, and I brought a Red Bull.~

“Blech.”

~Nah, it’s the peach kind, Arcee.~

“Huh.  Only one doesn’t taste like ass.”

“That’s not what ass tastes like,” Joker says authoritatively.

They all pause to either look at him askance or bleach their brains.

“So, the roof,” Flag says.  “The roof of this building.  In plain view of the lookout post halfway up that building,” he adds, pointing to the lone administrative office tower on the next block.  “Where there’s people with guns who shoot on sight.  While we’re trying to do a stealth job.”

“Gonna need a diversion, for sure,” Ratcatcher says.

Joker shrugs.  “Only four of ‘em up top, plus the four on the door of this place and whatever’s giving Gun Bunny trouble.”

~I heard that.  All snipers taken care of.  Two roofs away, on my way down so I can follow Arcee back up and give cover.~

Joker nods and shoves his coat at Flag.  “I’ll distract the lookouts.  Flag, you escort the little lady into the building.  Give a yell when you need me to make my move.”  And he just strolls his way across the street.

Irritated, Flag drapes the trench coat over a nearby hydrant to free up both hands.  “Furry friends first, then me.  Stay back until it’s clear.”

.End.

[thatyamiguy-blog]

Daycare blues with a brown butt (FOP)

One wouldn't expect a hunt to happen in the middle of the town of Dimsdale, but that was exactly what was going on, at least from the point of view of one young resident. The Hunter was one Timmy turner, a boy who had been so tormented and teased by his babysitter Vicky and others that the powers to be granted him a pair of fairy god parents who could cast almost every wish he could make, as long as they didn't break da rules. The hunter was the younger sister of Timmy's babysitter who had a massive crush on Timmy, not helped by seeing all of the humiliating outfits her big sister had put him in and had made it her life's goal to marry and pamper him.. something he wasn't sure just meant spoil him. Timmy had been doing his best to avoid Tootie, unable to just wish the girl away since it would be in the way of one of the Da rules involving true love, and now found himself cornered in a back ally that frankly smelled awful. 'Wait..I know that smell! it's poopie diapers!' Timmy thought, hiding behind a dumpster as Tootie started down the entrance of the alley, coming off more as a horror movie monster then a love stuck girl. "Come out come out where ever you are Timmy~ I only have so long to play before I have to go do my volunteer hours for one of my cream puff badges~" She called. "Wanda! Cosmo!" Timmy whispered, and his fairy's showed up as a pink and green rat. "We're outside of the day care center! I wish I was one one the babies in there!" Timmy said, smirking at how just clever and smart he was. "Er..you sure you don't wanna go a bit older there sport?" Wanda asked. "Come on Timmy, come on out! you can come with me and I'll show everyone my new booooyfriend~" Tootie called out, getting close. "No time! baby me now!" Timmy yelped. "This will end badly!" Cosmo said raising his wand, but grinning. "But we'll get a show!" One poof later and Timmy was gone just before Tootie could find him, looking around in confusion.

Not for the first time, and likely not for the last Timmy was once again a baby, in a bulky white diaper and short pink t-shirt that didn't hide his baby fat belly. there was a pink bonnet on his head that had eyes and a mouth, turning out to be Wanda and a green bib around his neck, Cosmo. "We thought we better stick close to you sport." Wanda said with a chuckle. "Yeah, and it was this or a pacifier and a diaper! no thank you!" Cosmo added, making a icky face as Timmy giggled a little. Already knowing that trying to walk was going to be pointless, Timmy took in his surrounding at the happy stinkers daycare and noting they had gone with a jungle theme repaint on the walls since the last time he had hidden here to escape Vicky (which was a story all on it's own) there was only a few other babies around, which was fine with Timmy since he wasn't looking forward to huffing stinky diapers all day, plus it would make it easier to get his hands on the blocks needed to spell out his wish to change back. 'Let's see..Tootie said she had to volunteer soon..so if I just wait her out then i can spell out my wish and be home in time to watch captain nebula vs Crimson chin part 3!" Timmy thought, looking up at a clock and seeing it was only 10 minutes to 4. Crawling over to where the toy chest was Timmy found himself semi relaxing, and wondering if he couldn't just catch the epic show down on a rerun and maybe just enjoy a day as a big baby..at least until a foul smell hit his nose. one of the real babies was in the middle of filling his pampers and the stink worked like a smelling salt, making Timmy recall the worse part of all of this, which was Ironically not having to smell the other stinky diapers. It was making his own. Shuddering softly he just tried to breath though his mouth, though this got complaints from Cosmo as he was drooling on him and started to try and fish out the baby blocks from the toy chest...and only finding stuffies in there. '..No. No no no..Heh..they must..they must just be already out!' Timmy though, a soft stream of nervous baby babble coming out of his mouth. "Timmy seems scared, what's going on, I can't see from down here!" Cosmo asked. "Uh..looks like they might of gotten rid of the baby blocks..I always thought they were a little too hard and sharp for baby to play with.." Wanda said. "Ba ba goo!" Timmy snapped, no doubt a witty comeback but it lost something coming out in baby babble. "It's ok Timmy! I got proactive and decided to learn baby after the last time!" Cosmo said with glee. "Ba goo!?" Timmy asked, sounding deleted and plopping back on his butt, wiping his brow. "Wait for it.." Wanda said rolling her eyes. "Yeah! I start classes next week!" Cosmo added "and there it is!" Wanda snorted. Timmy however did more then snort, he started to wail and whine, flopping on his back and having a tantrum. 'NO! I don't wanna be stuck as a baby!! who knows how long it'll take me to be able to spell out my wish!? there;'s no way Cosmo will let baby talk fast enough to turn me back before I end up a diaper dumper for like a YEAR! ..Oh crap I'm gonna end up making TONS of poopie diapers!!' Timmy mentally wailed, tears streaming down his little face and his wails getting super loud. 'There is NO way this can get any worse!' "Awww what's wrong little guy?" Came a familiar voice and then there was a shadow over Timmy. looking up though tear filled eyes, there was Tootie, in her cream puff scout outfit and smiling down at him and then bending down to pick him up. "Does somebody need hugs?" '...I just HAD to tempt fate didn't I?' Timmy thought bitterly as he was cradled to Tootie's chest and she started to pat and rub his back. which damn it, if that didn't actually help calm him down.

Tootie sighed softly, glad that the little guy had stopped wailing as she had him and then held him out in front of her. "Feeling better now?" she coo'ed, even as if she didn't know better she would of sworn she was looking at Timmy at the moment, though while she might of thought about putting Timmy back in diapers and making him her widdle guy, he was totally a big boy. The little guy in her arms babbled and gurgled, blowing s pit bubble and Tootie just giggled. "Well spoken! come on, let's get some nummies in your tum tum!" She said pulling the little guy back closed and carrying him away from the play area, noting how much he seemed to squirm and whine. "Shhh, you can come back and play after you've had something to eat." She assured him and patted the little guys back, even as he fussed and whined even more.

the LAST thing Timmy wanted right now was poop fuel but naturally being restricted to baby babble (not that he'd want Tootie to known it was him anyways) his words fell on deaf ears as he was brought over to one of the high chairs. "Heh, I don't know your name little guy, but I'm gonna call you Timmy jr, after my boyfriend." Tootie gushed, taping a finger on Timmy's nose. 'EXCUSE ME!?! we are NOT dating!' Timmy fumed mentally and babbled and cried out as much which was just seen as still being fussy by Tootie. "Awww, your just so hungry aren't your Timmy Jr?" She coo'ed and turned away, him locked in the high chair, though not from a lack of effort to get out. "Don't worry! We have lots of jars of prune baby food!" She coo'ed turning around and holding up one and a spoon. 'Oh yay. because here I was thinking 'gee golly, I sure hope not only do i get poop fuel, but it's prune flavored.' ...Feck my life!' Timmy sarcastically thought, though his dry wit was lost even as he said it out loud as well, only succeeding in getting drool down his chin. the jar was opened and the as the spoon dipped in, Timmy tried in vain to try and wish himself out of this, but his frantic baby babble cries were just mistaken for eagerness to eat up. "Here comes the choo choo!" Tootie coo'ed.

Tootie was confused, even with how clearly hungry Timmy Jr. was, the little guy kept turning his head away from the baby food! Still she had 4 hours to kill and wasn't going anywhere so spoonful after spoonful she got it in Timmy jr.'s mouth, even if it dribbled down his chin and went onto his bib. As the last of the jar went in the little guys tummy gurgled and growled, proving that she was right that he was hungry and while there might of been a rule of just one jar at a time, she wasn't the type to let a little cutie starve and got out a second one, even as Timmy jr. babbled and gurgled like crazy.. no doubt happy to get more din din's. By the time she was finished with the second jar Jr had a bit of a pot belly going on and was gurgling and babbling away, baby food smear all around his mouth. "What do you think little guy, want anther one?" Tootie asked, not really expecting a sensible answer though she got one all the same as the little guy leaned forward and a massive wet fart erupted out of his behind. "Whoa! guess that answers that! Better get you out of there be-" but before Tootie could move to free Jr. the little guy was making it clear that the fart had just been a preview of the main event.

Timmy had never felt so full in his life, and his guts were churning big time even as his vision wavered. he'd given up trying to fight off the baby food as it wasn't doing him any good anyways and just wanted to get out of the highchair before he started to crap himself but of course with his luck he wasn't all that shocked as he found himself erupting in a series of poots after the first massive one and then hot smelly mush was pushing out into the seat of his huggies. Oddly as gross as it smelled and felt on his buns, and combined with the humiliation of pooping himself yet again, Timmy had to admit that getting all of that baby food out of his tiny guts felt good. Or at least it did till he found himself lifting up in the highchair, and soon his pot belly was pressing painfully on the tray and the diaper was expanding around the seat, almost looking like a alien trying to take over. "GET ME OUT OF HERE!" Timmy cried out, whining and tears coming to his eyes. Of course he knew that Tootie couldn't understand a single thing that he said but when you're making a massive poopie in your diapers because your a baby again, little things like logic fall to the side. Tootie got the gist of it anyways and got the tray off and picked him up, putting his head over her shoulder and patting his back as she got a arm under his toxic butt to support his weight. "Oh wow! your a super pooper huh!?!" Tootie asked with a giggle, heading to the changing table with him even as he kept going. with his fumes so bad he could almost see them and his nose burning, Timmy couldn't help but wonder how Tootie was holding up so well as he was plopped down with a squish on his butt. She kept her hands on him to keep him from falling off of the changing table though and just smiled at him. "Well!?! what are you waiting for! it's not gonna change itself!" Timmy huffed, then a loud and semi painful sputtering fart made him realize..he was still going and had just lost track of it! "oh good, because knowing I was gonna have to poop myself wasn't bad enough..I'm so glad I get to have the burden of actually controlling when it happens off the table." Timmy hugged even as he started to raise up on the changing table without having to get up to his feet. "..Darn how expandable ARE these things!?!"

Tootie was mentally squealing (OK she was doing it out loud too) at the site of Jr. being a super duper diaper pooper! A far cry from the rest of the girls who put in hours here, Tootie loved changing poo poo pampers. "Ok, it's official, your the diaper filling champion of the world!" Tootie giggled and tickled Jr's chin as the little guy finished up. He gave her a sleepy smile and was yawning lots and well, she couldn't really blame him there. she'd be tired if she had pushed out what looked like half his body weight into a huggie too. Laying the little guy on his back, Tootie took out a pacifier and popped it into his mouth and handed him a teddy bear to cuddle while she went to work cleaning him up, and wasn't surprised that within seconds the little super duper pooper was conked out.

Timmy woke up slowly, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, not really looking around yet and started to talk. "Oh man.. Cosmo..Wanda..I had the weirdest dream that I got stuck as a baby again and..and.." Timmy trailed off as he opened his eyes and fully took in his surroundings, he was in a large wooden crib in a light pink sleeper that was puffed out around the hips from the diaper he was clearly wearing.  "ah ball's." he wasn't alone in the crib, there was two other babies and a familiar smell burned at his nostrils, making him put a arm up to his face and he was about to ask which one of the sleeping tots had fudged themselves then recalled his own 'record breaking performance' before he'd conked out and pushed himself up to his knees and reached behind himself for a self check. 'Please be clean please be clean please be clean!' Timmy silently prayed, the last thing he needed was to end up a bed messer and have it spill over to when he was a big boy.   dealing with Vicky was tough enough, if he ended up needing bedtime diapers he might as well just wish himself into a black hole and save himself the the humiliation. The good news was that he hadn't pooped the diaper in his sleep but the bad news was that his huggies were totally drenched.  Still given the choice between being a bed wetter or a bed messer, he'd gladly take the lesser of two evils. 'still doesn't help me out though.. those kids are toxic!' Timmy thought though if he was being truthful, their messy diapers were but a sweet smelling summer breeze to the hell he had unloaded. Looking around for Wanda and Cosmo, Timmy couldn't spot them but he guessed they had taken off knowing there was nothing they could do for him till Cosmo's classes started up and seeing him suffering was too much for them. it worked out anyways since having them around and knowing how easily they could save him but were stopped from doing it because of the language barroir was just a kick in the nuts..figuratively speaking.

Of course what Timmy couldn't of know was that Jorgen von strangle (the worlds toughest fairy) had decided to do a random one month boot camp for all the active faeries, citing that they were getting too many undo wishes and they needed to get their acts together. Wanda and Cosmo tried to explain out Timmy's situation to him and well, if they were expecting compassion and understanding well.. they really were barking up the wrong tree. "You're telling me the pinky hat boy will be trapped as the little baby till we're done? Maybe I'll make it TWO months!" He laughed. "Maybe we should of told him Timmy was having the time of his life doing something else and we wanted to get back and watch. He'd of sent us back to end it." Cosmo said as Jorgen walked away laughing. "..Of course, NOW your a genius." Wanda grumbled.

Tootie blissfully seemed to have gone home and as best as Timmy could tell looking at the clock, it seemed to be early evening. "huh, you think they'd be freaking out that no one's come to pick me or any of the other stinkers up." Timmy mused, then recalled he was in one of those daycare's that offered overnight service and long stays as required. "Fan freaking tastic.. and they don't even have a TV in here for me to watch SOMETHING." Timmy grumbled, crawling around in the crib as the mattress was too soft for him to try and attempt to walk, not that he really could anyways. finding a crib toy that would play different lullbyes and make a scrolling picture of a sail boat on a lake at one end, Timmy shrugged and twisted the dial. 'when in Rome..' he mused, and oddly found himself getting into the show as he watching, the music making his eyelids droop. his thumb found it's way into his mouth and Timmy rocked back and forth, barely aware as he started to grunt and push out anther load of soft serve into the seat of his diapers before laying down and going back to sleep, having one last thought. 'Maybe being a baby again for awhile won't be so bad.'

After only 2 weeks of hell (Jorgen had gotten in trouble for taking the faeries away from their kids THIS long) and a crash course in baby talk Wanda and Cosmo rushed back to the daycare hoping and praying that Timmy would be alright. and in a way he kinda was though he kinda wasn't. As it turned out the daycare used specialized tech in all of it's baby toys that was designed to work on a babies brain and keep them happy, dumb and drooling and ergo quiet so the staff didn't really have to worry about them. The effect normally only lasted while they were in the nursery of the daycare and exposed to the toys, and so it would wear off given time but after two weeks of nonstop stop baby time Timmy had gone full baby. Just because his brain housed his big boy mind  that didn't mean that it had been protected and 4 days in Timmy (or Timmy Jr. as everyone had taken to calling him) had pushed his big boy thoughts out into the back of one of his epic poopie diapers. case in point: the little guy was gurgling and playing peek a boo with Tootie, all smiles and then holding out his arms for uppies as she giggled and of course picked him up and cuddled him. "Uhh..Cosmo..what's he saying." Wanda asked, a sinking feeling in the pit of her tummy. "Well either I'm a really poor student.." Cosmo started, which Wanda had to admit, was a likely possibly. "Or he's just saying random words." "..You think we can shift blame for this on Jorgen?" Wanda asked, sweat dropping as she watching Timmy scrunch up his face and start to destroy a diaper. "I don't think we have anything to lose." Cosmo said then let out a cheer. "Woo! go Timmy! he's a champ!" he said, poofing a form finger on one hand and waving a little flag around that claimed Timmy was number one at number two. "..Really?" Wanda asked, rolling her eyes. "Hey! you know I love watching competitive diaper filling! I'm a former champ!" Cosmo huffed.

In the final aftermath minor changes were made so that Timmy was no longer Timmy jr, just the real Timmy and his parents and everyone else thought he was still just a baby. it was a pain to do but the only option left as by the time the higher powers had been called in, Timmy was in love with his new baby life. Sure the little guy had lost accesses to magical faeries and unlimited wishes, and it would be years before he'd get a chance to get into cartoons and action figures but in a way it would all work out since by the time he was ten again: A) there was no way Mr.crocker would still have his job. B) no way Vicky would still be babysitting. C) he'd grow up with a AWESOME semi big sister in Tootie who would indulge the little guys love of diapers even after getting potty trained.. But that's anther story.

The end

[albwreckt]

The rat orchestra from last year’s Ethereal ball is apparently back and looking for work again. That’s the only explanation you can think of, anyway, when you start hearing rumors about rodents gathering in some out-of-the-way alley in town to play music on instruments stolen from the monastery. At the same time, a second rumor has started up: students have reported hearing a long C-sharp before going to bed at night, only to discover the next morning that one of their classmates has gone missing! That’s three in the span of a week so far. Are these things related? The Knights won’t get involved and the monastery staff appears unbothered, so you decide to take these matters into your own hands. [Grants Sword +1]

The first of Balthus’ suckers proud patrons wants him chasing a bunch of mice.

And while, sure, that’s an okay thing to hire him for, he can’t help thinking that his talents are being a little undersold. The guy could catch a bear, and he isn't exactly quiet about that fact. His body is built for heavy lifting, impactful fights, smash ‘n grabs–but today's foe is barely the size of his fist? 

Well, it’s the kid’s money. The Wolf has long since pocketed it, now that they two are prowling around the town in the dead of night. It makes only the slightest jingle as they turn a corner and darkness envelops them. 

The glitter of stars in the sky can’t reach them here, not with an overcast of two-story buildings blotting out their rays of pale light. But that’s okay. This is exactly where they want to be. Balthus knows rats (has even lived with a few) and understands what they like. The dark and dank, the smelly and humid. Little corners they can huddle around, and all those passageways in Abyss for them to scurry off to, should a threat arise. 

But wedged between these few town buildings, there are scant few paths a rodent could take that Balthus couldn’t smash through. Brick is easier to break than the hard earth–it’s why he wears a confident smirk as he turns to Roy. 

“Alright, pal. Got your listening cap on?” 

He nudges him forward. At the end of this alley is a short wall, and one hop over there is another, and another sprawling in a different direction. As he inches closer, he lowers his stature and heightens his senses. “Remember that we’re here for the music. It was uh, some kind of note, right?” 

He stops tip-toeing. 

“Shoot… Which one was it?” 

Not that he could tell if he heard it, mind you. Balthus’ education in the musical arts ended with his involvement in House Albrecht. While piano or violin may have been expected of a noble, the only sounds he produces now are the cracking of skulls and the tearing of ligaments. He looks embarrassed, waiting for Roy’s response.

That kid was noble enough to foot his bill, so he’s praying he can pick timbre apart from rhythm. 

“Wait, don’t tell me,” he corrects, “just keep an eye out for it. Er, ear out. When you hear it, let me know. I’ll go running in and nab ourselves that bounty. That’s what you’re here for, yeah?”

//starter for @roysourblog

✢⁎. i was hiding!

[knchins]

Rivalry - Draken

Summary: The only thing you and Draken have in common is a best friend. Feelings change after he saves you from an attempted assault.

Collab: Paramour

Pairing: Draken x Reader

Reader Type: Female

Rating: T

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: attempted sexual assault, hurt/comfort, fluff

Notes: Congrats @blkladyelle on your milestone! I'm so happy to be your mutual! 🥺❤️

Despite sharing a best friend, you and Ryuguji Ken had been enemies since the dawn of time. Mikey didn’t quite understand why the two of you never got along. He had to split his time evenly or one would accuse him of favoritism. The three of you could never just hang out together because it was bound to end in a heated argument. 

Draken would point out that you were a girl, you didn’t belong in a biker gang with the rest of them. It was too dangerous for someone like you. You would always counter back that you could hold your own in a fight. You’d trained at Mikey’s grandpa’s dojo since you were a little kid. You didn’t need to be coddled or looked after. You could handle it yourself. 

Fortunately for you, Mikey didn’t always agree with what Draken said, and while they still argued about it often, you were able to join Toman under Mitsuya and Hakkai. While you believed you should have been in the first division, under Baji, Mikey felt that this was a compromise to keep you out of the front lines as much as possible. 

It just wasn’t fair. How many fights did you have to win for him to realize that he was wrong? That he needed you out there taking out rival gang members? Sure most of the guys were bigger and stronger than you but you knew how to use your size to your advantage. The only two people you had never seemed to be able to beat were Mikey and Draken. 

Lately, Mikey seemed to be pulling away more and more. He was spending more time with the captains and vice captains and less time with you. You didn’t understand why he was leaving you out of things when he had always included you before. You came to the conclusion that it had to have been Draken’s influence. His opinion was finally outweighing yours. 

To say it infuriated you was an understatement. 

Rage burned through your veins and you searched for Draken. Your hands were balled into fists by your sides as you saw red. You were finally at your limit. You were done with being treated like some weakling just because you were female. He was going to get a piece of your mind whether he liked it or not. 

“Well, well, well, what do we have here?” You hadn’t noticed that you had crossed into the red light district. While you had known that Draken lived in a brothel, your anger had made you forget where exactly it was located. You turned abruptly, ready to fight the men that were catcalling you from behind. 

“Did you see that ass?” One asked, watching as you shook with fury. “Aw, you scared princess? We won’t hurt you.” 

“I’m not scared of you.” You spat back, readying yourself to fight until you felt a pair of hands grab your arms from behind. You struggled, caught off guard, heart racing of what they’d do to you as you kicked and screamed and tried to break free. 

They dragged you into a nearby alley, not caring who had seen them do it. It wasn’t as if anyone would call the police or rat them out. You were out of uniform so they had no idea you were in Toman, though that might have only made things worse. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll pay you after we’re done.” Another guy snickered into your ear. You spit at him and he wiped it off his face as he smirked. “Gotta admit, that was kind of hot.” 

“What are you assholes doing?” You heard a familiar voice from the opening of the alleyway. Your eyes, now wide with terror looked to see your number one enemy. The man you had come to give a piece of your mind to. Draken stood tall with an aggravated look on his face. He was clearly not pleased with what these men were trying to do to you. 

“Draken? Is this your girl?” They said, clearly fearful of him as they immediately let you go and backed off. You pressed yourself against the wall, eyeing a space between two of the guys that you could fit through to make a run for it. Despite your long feud with Draken, you were glad to have someone there on your side. 

“What if she is?” He asked, his voice dangerously low as he looked down at them. “You really want to stick around to find out?” 

They seemed skeptical at first, but they all knew they couldn’t win against him. Draken took a menacing step closer and they all darted away trying to get to safety and maybe find someone else to harass instead. 

You blinked slowly, trying to formulate a coherent thought as to why Draken might save you. He hated you just as much as you hated him, right? So then why stop the attack? When you opened your eyes again he was standing in front of you with a worried expression. “You okay? Those losers didn’t touch you did they?” 

“No,” you muttered, feeling utterly embarrassed for having to be saved by him. You felt tears starting to brim your eyes at the thought that maybe you weren’t as strong as you had always thought you were. You had come so close to getting hurt that it almost felt surreal. 

“Come on, I live nearby. I’ll have one of the girls make you some tea.” He said as he turned his back. You pushed off the wall and followed close behind him. For the first time in your life, you felt relieved to be close to him. Despite the animosity, you both had always made for a good fighting team. Usually, it was a competition on who could get the most knockouts but your styles still worked well together. 

He took you inside a nearby building and the two of you took the elevator up. The silence quickly became uncomfortable, the tension palpable. Draken had never seen you look so vulnerable before, and it was making him second guess his feelings towards you. Sure you liked to hog Mikey’s time and you whined a lot when he didn’t pay you enough attention, but you were also so cute and adorable when you were angry. 

He had never admitted to himself how attracted he was to you, but seeing you in that situation made him feel an overwhelming need to protect you. He wished he could make that sad look on your face disappear, but had no idea how to even do that. 

Once inside, Draken asked one of the girls that weren’t busy to make you some tea and the two of you went to his room while she happily made it. Gossip already began to move about the brothel about him bringing a girl home. He rarely brought anyone home, let alone someone that wasn’t a boy. 

“Do you need anything?” He asked as you got to his room. 

You stared at him, not trusting him. “Why are you being so nice to me?” You probed and he looked a little caught off guard by your defensiveness. “Is it because you feel bad about taking all of Mikey’s time lately?” 

“What? No!” He bit back, annoyed that you were accusing him of monopolizing Mikey's time after he had just saved you. “I’m just trying to help!” 

“I don’t understand you!” You replied, voice growing louder. “You treat me like shit, tell Mikey I’m a waste of time, always try to influence him against me, tried to get me kicked out of the gang, and now you save me? You’re so confusing!” 

Draken gave you a serious look, “was I just supposed to let a fellow member of Toman get attacked without helping? I’m second in command, I look after all of the people under me, even a brat like you.” 

His response made you quiet back down, your mind racing to try and figure out this entire situation. He was being nice, you thought to yourself, you didn’t have to be mean to him in response.

You let out a sigh, “Thank you for saving me.” You mumbled as your faces began to gravitate towards one another. 

He stared into your eyes, lost in the sincerity of your words. “You’re welcome…” He murmured as you moved to kiss his cheek to further prove how thankful you were. Draken turned his head at the last minute, your lips clashing by accident.

Both of you hesitated before giving in, kissing the other as new feelings began to arise. Maybe this would be better, maybe caring about one another instead of fighting all the time would solve both of your problems.  As you pulled apart you felt yourself heat up with embarrassment as Draken looked down at you curiously. “Can we…do that again?” He asked hesitantly and instead of answering him you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him once more. 

[zyalahmiscfandom]

An Unexpected Trip pt2: Dhawan!Master x f!Reader

AN: Couldn’t find an appropriate GIF so.... ANyway. Part two!! Whooo. Honestly I scrapped the first draft of this so this may not be the best part. 

FIRST

MASTERLIST

You groaned painfully as you roused from you forced sleep, your head felt like it was splitting in two. Confused you opened your eyes, harsh florescent lights flickered above you causing you to flinch and try to cover your sore eyes, only to find your hands cuffed together.

‘Handcuffs?’ You thought groggily, reality slowly came back to you. Ace and Graham in the alley. Graham had seemed so apologetic, yet that hadn’t stopped the jack booted thugs from trying to arrest you. 

UNIT that’s what Ace had called them. She had said she had no choice, that the Master had to be stopped. Yada yada yada.

You slowly shuffled to sit up on what appeared to be an ikea chaise lounge, in what appeared to be a regular if not minimalistic office building overlooking the London skyline. Quickly your eyes darted around the room, looking for a quick exit, getting away was your first priority, contacting the Master and getting the handcuffs off were a close second and third, but your escape plans were halted when you spied the group of individuals whispering to each other of the other side of the room.  

“Ahem,” You coughed sarcastically, “Excuse me?” The group turned around, you recognised Ace but none of the others.

“Ah Miss Y/N L/N, you’re awake.” A smart looking blonde woman walked over to you followed by Ace and a UNIT guard. “My name is Kate Lethbridge-Stewart and I have some questions I’d like to ask you.”

“How’d you know my name?” You eyed them suspiciously.

“You’re phone,” Kate stated matter-of-factly, “UNIT has a way of…”

“YOU HACKED MY PHONE!” You practically screeched. Your mind was caught between wondering if they’d gotten all of your family’s personal details or gone through your VERY personal photos you’d taken of your trips with the Master including some very couply looking selfies with your Time-Lord. Photos he’d been adversed to, photos he’d claimed could be used against him by his enemies. Photo’s of him genuinely, happily smiling.  

“Y/N, we’re just trying to help.” Ace stepped in trying to calm your fired up nerves.

“Oh yeah, cause handcuffs and hacking are good guy moves.” You snapped pissed beyond all measures.  

“Y/N,” Ace started, but you didn’t care.

“Where’s Graham? He cut and run after ratting me out?” You cut her off. You figured he’d told Ace who you travelled with after you’d run off, he was probably trying to ‘help’ as well. You were officially over people trying to ‘help’ you escape your life with the Master.

“You have no idea who your dealing with, do you?” Kate was trying to stay level headed, but she couldn’t hide her true feelings from her eyes.

“Y/N the Master is not a friend to you. Trust us, if he’s here on Earth it is not good. For anyone.” Ace finished.

“Why?” You sneered, “Because he’s tried enslaving or destroying humanity several times over?”

Ace and Kate took a step back from you, seemingly confused at your knowledge of the Masters crimes.

“Let me guess, from your perspective he’s just recently committed these crimes?”

“He did.” Kate confirmed, cautious.

“Well not for him or for me. Time is relative after all.” You smirked.

“If you’re trying to tell me the Master is here on amicable terms Y/N, you’re more naive than I thought.” A twinge of annoyance passed over Kate’s face, you could tell your noncompliance was grating her a little, and a part of you liked that.

“Or I know something about the Master that you don’t.” You sassed back, knowing that both Kate and Ace would jump to negative conclusions.

“Which is?” Ace asked.

“That he’s a good man.” You stared straight into Ace’s eyes daring her to blink first. Kate scoffed loudly as she rolled her eyes at your statement. A tense stand off between the three of you commenced, seconds seemed to become hours as you dared them to try and refute your statement. If there was one thing you could do, it was defend the Master with your whole heart.

“Did someone call for a Doctor!” Suddenly bursting into the room was an overzealous Doctor followed closely by Graham and Yaz, who gave the blonde Time-Lord awkward embarrassed looks. “That didn’t work did it?”

“No.” Yaz smiled sweetly.

“Well it was worth a try.” The Doctor quickly shook off the awkward attempt at a catchphrase before coming to rest in the centre of the room, between you and your UNIT captors. “So Graham says you’re in trouble.”

“You could say that.” You raised your cuffed hands to the woman. “Graham thought you ran away.”

“I’m really sorry Y/N, I didn’t know what else to do.” The older gentleman seemed truly remorseful, and unlike the other people in the room, you where capable of forgiveness, or at least not holding a grudge.  

“You could have just let me be.”

Graham nodded solemnly as the Doctor reached into her pocket pulling a strange silver device out of it and placing the crystal end to your cuffs.

“Professor are you sure that’s wise?” Ace questioned.

“Y/N’s not gonna hurt anyone, right Y/N.”

“Not without good reason.” You deadpanned.

“Yeah not helping.” The Doctor chastised whereas you knew the Master would have smiled at your response. A loud buzzing rang out, and soon you felt the hard metal of the handcuffs unlock and fall away.

Relieved you stood stretching and rubbing the bruised and raw flesh of your wrists.

“Thank you. Glad someone has some sense around here.”

“What happened?” Yaz asked concerned. “Why’d UNIT arrest you? Did the Master do something bad?”

“I dunno Yaz, I was walking down the street alone,” You emphasised pointingly. “And then boom, prison cell.”

“Graham? Is that true.” Yaz enquired.

“Well, yes. Kind of.” Graham sheepishly answered.

“You said she’s travels with the Master.” Ace interrupted.

“Well she does.” Graham rambled, but you had stopped paying attention to them.

“Does he know you’re here?” The Doctor asked with a hushed tone.

“I dunno, it depends on how long I’ve been here.” You admitted.

“Why?” Kate interrupted. “Is there a countdown we need to be aware of?” Once again you glared at the older woman.

“For the last time, there is no conspiracy!” You rubbed your eyes, flinching when you applied pressure to the place the UNIT soldier had knocked you out.

“Then WHY are you here?!” Kate demanded exasperated.

“TO SEE PHANTOM OF THE BLOODY OPERA!” You yelled back, your admittance stunning everyone in the room. Collecting yourself a little, you took a deep breath.

“Listen, I’m sorry about whatever happened in the past between you and the Master, truly, truly I am. But he’s not the same man.” You pleaded.

“He regenerated?” Ace asked.

“Well no but,” You started.

“Then how can we trust you?” Kate interrupted.

“You have my phone, you’ve seen the pictures.” You sadly smiled.

“They could have been staged.” Kate countered.

“Pictures?” Yaz asked.

“They hacked my phone,” You complained. “Which I want it back by the way.” Your tone pointed. “It has photos and videos of my trips with the Master, which prove he’s not the same man.”

“Y/N,” The Doctor’s voice was laced with concern and sympathy.

“Time-Lord!” You suddenly turned to the Doctor causing the short blonde to jump a little, “You’re a Time-Lord!” You sounded reinvigorated.

“Last time I checked.” She laughed awkwardly.

“Then read my mind.” You sated as if it was the most obvious solution in the world. “Time-Lord telepathy does come in handy.”

A shocked blush seemed to sweep over both the Doctor and Yaz.

“Y/N that’s uh,” The Doctor looked at her companion, before looking back at you. “A very intimate thing to do.”

“Trust me I know,” A knowing smile on your features, “And yeah, the Master wont like it and I’d rather not have you in my head, but if it gets me out of here before the play ends, then do it.”

“What’s so important about the end of the play?” Graham asked.

“It’s when the Master is coming to pick me up.” You took glee from the confused looks on the groups face. “What? He didn’t want to see the play, so he said he’d just jump forward to when the play ends to pick me up. You are aware that the TARDIS is a time machine right?” Your sass palpable.

“So why are you so nervous about the time?” Kate questioned.

“Because imagine for a moment, that someone you had promised to take care of was taken from you when you weren’t looking. What’d you think you’d do to get that person back? Now imagine you’re the Master in this scenario.”

“Oh god.” Was all Kate managed to say.

“But you promised he’d changed.” Ace interjected.

“Yeah in the sense that he doesn’t want to destroy the Earth anymore.”

“Y/N, what time does the play end?” The Doctor asked her voice steady.

“Uh, at about ten? If I had my phone, I could give you the exact time.”

“Kate, give Y/N her phone back,” The Doctor started to move fast, knowing that the clock was counting down.

“Doc it’s only eight o’clock, we have time.” Graham piped up.

“No, we don’t.” Her voice was heavy.

“Doctor?” Yaz asked concerned.

“If I was the Master, I’d never let you go anywhere without me knowing.” She stared at her companion. “Do you really think he doesn’t know Y/N was taken?”

Suddenly every single light in the building went out, the emergency red lights bathing the room in a hellish glow, before a loud electronic locking sound permeated all around you. You didn’t need to be a genius to know what or better yet who, had taken control of the building.

“CRRRZZZT is this thing on?” The Master’s voice echoed over the intercom, an few more taps to the mic blasted in your ears. “Dear UNIT thugs and dimwitted former ‘companions’, this is your Master speaking.” His voice was more sinister than anything you’d heard from him before, you’d be terrified if he wasn’t here for you.

“You have someone that belongs to me, and I’m here to get her back.” You heart swelled listening to the words, finally the Master was admitting to the world that he cared for you, and not just whispering it when you were alone in the TARDIS.

“Now you can give Y/N back to me straight away and we’ll all walk away from this. Well some of us will,” A small sadistic giggle erupted from the speakers. “Sorry, I might have gotten carried away with the security in this booth oops...Anyway. Where was I?” A beat passed and you were sure you were the only person in the room still breathing.

“Oh right Y/N. Just know that I’m coming for you, and I swear if they have harmed a single hair on your head, I’ll make Vesuvius look like a pleasant day at the beach…BYE!” Static replaced the Master’s voice and the room erupted into chaos, but you didn’t care, the Master had set your heart aflame like never before.  

“Master.” You whispered to yourself as a smitten little prayer.  

PART THREE