#which I should probably have been doing instead of drawing these

[miserable-something]

the court physician and the second born

[hana-bobo-finch]

erm…..posting about an OC via a rushed shitpost was not on my 2025 bingo card!! 😂😂😂😂😂😂get it??? 😂😂😂because his name is bingo??(GETS SHOT)

these are all things he has done or has attempted to do so consider this the full intro post for that freak for now. he’s still too undercooked to fully introduce but damn I love him

[exopelagic]

sudden realisation that the thing holding my art back is that I never had an anime phase

[swampdrive]

Specific gripe but hwrow capitalism really crushes art

[gilverrwrites]

Man, I need something with Jason's big hands, so big that one hand can cup your entire sex...

He will smack your clit, cup your sex, you'll grind on it and he will do something while cupping your lady bits.

I can live off of your body heat

Jason Todd/Reader, 2.4K

AN: I've actually had mutiple req for Jason and/or Dick slapping and pinching the readers clit which is like so specific, but I get it. Like I feel yall so much. I know Jay being a giant is fanon thing, but goddamn my 5'4 ass wants to be crushed by his hands so bad. CWs: Mentions of Jay's scars, swearing, size difference, Dom!Jay, teasing, Jay being really rough, nipple play, clit pinching, clit slapping. Petnames: Baby, babe, babygirl, good girl, Name-calling: Filthy girl, bitch, slut. Recommended listening: Body Heat - Kate Nash

There’s a scar on his chest. Actually, there are many scars on his chest. However, there’s one in particular that stands out; a long taut piece of skin that stretches from his left shoulder blade, right down to his sternum. Its pale sheen stands out against his tan skin and begs you to trail a finger along it.

Despite the temptation, you don’t.

Jason hasn’t slept this well in weeks so you daren't risk waking him yet. Instead, you watch the gentle rise and fall of his torso under the mellow light of the morning sun until the need to move is too great.

Your feet have barely touched the ground when a pair of sturdy arms close around you, enveloping you in the warmth of the very body you’d just been admiring and pulling you back into the bed. Or more, pulling you on top of his body, primarily by his choice, partially because there isn’t enough room for you both to lay without some overlap. Every time you mention buying a larger bed, Jason vetoes it; says he likes the close proximity. That feeling your body against his helps him to relax and you can’t really argue with that sentiment.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” He asks from the spot in the crook of your neck he loves to nuzzle into. He peppers the side of your neck with sleepy half-kisses.

It would be endearing, were his hands not already under the oversized Red Hood tee you’d stolen from him to sleep in.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hum, hands wrapping around his wrists, purely for additional skin-on-skin contact. You couldn’t stop him from ghosting his calloused fingertips up your body if you wanted to. It’s strange, and arousing to think that he can, and has trapped both of your wrists in with just one hand.

“You don't know?” He’s rousing properly now, amused by your answer.

“Probably just to shower, make a coffee, maybe read a book until you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” He reminds you, rolling his hips to emphasise his double entendre. The heat of his mourning wood grinds against your backside, and at the same time, one of his wandering hands finally settles on a target. He cups the underside of your breast, and you can’t help sucking in a breath as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already so brutal, despite the slow, sensual way he’s been exploring until now.

You sigh in relief when he lets go, allowing just enough time for the blood to rush back before he clamps down again, this time in a twisting motion that has your hands shooting up into his hair. “Jay!”

He seems unaffected by your attack on his scalp, chuckling into the tender spot behind your ear, and causing a chill to run down your spine. “Yeah, baby?”

“You should be asleep.” You’d intended to deadpan for comedic effect, but it comes out in short, strained breaths that only serve to make you sound needy as hell.

It’s at this point you hear a snapping sound, followed by the light sting of your underwear’s elastic waist snapping against your skin, drawing your attention downwards just in time to feel Jason cupping your entire sex in just one of his hands. All the while he never stops the assault on your now raw tits.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions. At the same time, he palms your folds through the fabric of your underwear, pressing the ball of it against your increasingly aching clit.

“Feels nice.” You sigh, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck which he eagerly accepts, honing in to suck and nibble, sloppily leaving marks in his wake. You don’t want to back down, but God, you do not want him to stop.

“Come on baby, I need a real answer. Do you want me to go back to sleep?” He eventually circles back, lips barely leaving your flesh as he speaks. Distracting you from the erotic sting of your nipples and the heat between your legs as his rugged fingers push all the right buttons. “Or do you want me to keep playing with your cute little pussy?”

“Fuck, Jay please- “ You’re ready to give in but as you speak he hooks two fingers under the crotch of your underwear, and the resulting, embarrassingly wet squelch that sounds out as he presses them between your folds has you hissing.

“Please what?” He goads, now upping the pressure. He’s doing it on purpose, cause he’s a fucking tease. “Please stop?”

“No! Please don’t stop touching my cunt!”

“Your cunt? You’re fucking filthy, girl. You know that?” He plants a quick, hard kiss on your cheek and, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you by your pussy, repositioning you for his own ease until your legs are stretched wide, his own wedged in between to keep you in place. The speed at which he moves is enough to give you whiplash. You barely have enough time to gasp at the retraction of his hands before they’re on you again, settling in new positions. With one hand he completely pulls aside your panties, exposing your hot, soaked folds to the tepid air. The other pulls your tee over your head before cupping the back of your head, forcing your gaze downwards. “Don’t move. I want you to watch everything I do to you. Can you do that for me, baby”

Shit. You think your heart might beat out of your chest. All this vehement energy so early in the morning. “Yes, Jay!”

Immediately contradicting yourself, you turn your head to admire his handsome profile. The determined squint of his eyes, the bed head, the morning stubble, you really lucked out with him you think as you lean closer to kiss his cheek. Before you can make contact Jay's grip tightens on the back of your head, sharply turning you back to watch as he dips two long fingers between your slit. Your clit practically twitches at the sight of them; long enough to span from top to entrance in excess.

You try your hardest to watch as he repeatedly strokes your lips in short, lazy motions but it’s a challenge not to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. It’s even harder not to throw your head back and scream when he suddenly sinks his fingers around your clit and starts pinching, it. Tightly rolling the sensitive bud between two curled fingers.

“Shit, Jay.” You pant through gritted teeth. “That hurts so good.”

Just like with your nipples, what feels even better is the rapid return of blood flow when he releases it. He repeats the process twice over, laughing every time you flinch or whine. Whispering in your ear about how you’re his “good girl”, how “you can take it” every time you dig your nails into his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain.

“Help me out here babe. Spread your pussy out for me.” He instructs, playfully gasping into your ear when you pull back your lips to reveal your now dark and swollen core. You’re too turned on to care about the sight of it. Happy to expose yourself, certain that the moment he starts kneading you with care, you’ll cum in seconds.

Jason must be thinking the same as he dips one finger into your entrance, just enough to coat it with your arousal before returning to your puffy clit to rub around it in circles. Even at twice the size, your clit is smaller than the tip of his finger.

“Ohh, I’m gonna cum soon.” Before you’ve even finished your sentence Jay retracts his hand, ripping a distraught weep from you in the process. You’ve been here a hundred times before, splayed out for him, gasping, and begging for his touch, but the red-hot shame at your flagrant desperation never eases. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“Dude?” Without warning, Jay comes back down. Hard. Your whole body shakes under the intensity of the vicious slap he delivers to your clit. “Who the fuck are you calling dude?”

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he smacks your open folds again. Flipping the switch in your body from heady to adrenaline-filled arousal.

“Say my name.” He barks as he dispenses a third slap.

“Jay!” You don’t have it in you to say his full name, but it seems to satisfy.

“Say it louder.” His words are punctuated by the lewd echo of sharp, stinging strikes. “I want the neighbours to hear what a dirty fucking slut you are. Want them to know who you belong to.”   

“Jason. You Jason!” You close your eyes and throw your head back, crying with everything you can muster, not caring how raunchy or pathetic you sound. Ignoring the pain of your own nails digging into your flesh. “Jason. I’m yours, Jason.”

“That's better.” He growls. Finally, his arm falls slack. With no friction from your dripping, wanting walls, Jason glides two fingers into your entrance and you tremble, your whole body tingling, ecstatic to finally feel him inside you. It’s just two fingers, two impressively strong, thick fingers that make you feel so full. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Abashed by his sudden gentleness you open your eyes once more, positioning yourself to look at him as best you can. He’s one to talk. You’re always telling him he could be a model if he decided to quit being a part-time crime lord, part-time crime fighter.  

You’re unable to concentrate on him for long, however, as he starts pumping in and out of you in torturously slow thrusts. After all the excitement, it quietens your mind and eases your muscles. For the first time since he’d repositioned your bodies, you notice the pressure of his cock, pulsing against your lower back. The rigged hardness of it makes you feel fuzzy and content at his equal levels of arousal.

You stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the calm as Jason gently massages your insides until it’s not enough. You need more, your body yearns, your core practically twitching for his touch on your clit again. An orgasm is approaching steadily, but you’ll get nowhere without it.

The heel of his hand is so close, so sturdy, you don’t even think about what you’re doing, you just start undulating your hips, rutting up against him in unstable motions. He doesn’t stop you; in fact he curls his fingers and brings his palm down closer, letting you use him to chase your orgasm.

“That's it, baby. Hump me like a bitch in heat.” He coos so softly in your ear that it would set your pulse racing if it wasn’t already running at a mile a minute. “Remember I'm the only who does this for you, the only one who can make you feel so full and cock drunk on just my hands.”

He's right, he's so fucking right.

“Keep that up, I might just cum too.”

“Fuck me.” You breathe, affected both by his words and the reminder of his throbbing dick squeezed between your bodies.

“Not until you cum on my fingers.” He’s only half joking. “Can you do that for me baby, cum all over my finger like a good little slut?”

Fuck yes, you can. You want to say, but all your energy is focused on riding his hand, fucking yourself on his brawny fingers, and gyrating against his palm like it's your job. His groans and rasps become a motivational mantra as you keep bucking your hips.

“You’re nearly there.” He comments, able to feel your walls tightening around his digits, convulsing uncontrollably as it hits you. It takes all your strength to ride it out; to keep going as you topple over the edge but fuck it’s worth it for the full extent of your release. “That it babygirl, cum for me baby, fucking soak me.”

Worth it for the explicit sound of your wet cum streaming against Jason’s hands, for the rush of ecstasy that bleeds through your body, and especially for the unexpected heat that spreads across your lower back in spaced-out intervals; Jason's own ejaculation seeping through his boxers and dispersing on your skin.         

Simultaneously, you both grow limp, breathing in time with each other until the rapid movements of your chests begin to ebb back to a steady pace.

“You were so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” Jason praises as he rolls your bodies onto their sides, never releasing you in the process, but allowing him a better ability to press a smattering of kisses to the side of your head, lingering along your jawline. You're grateful for his sweet words, but still too fucked-out to speak, but you coo when he lifts a hand to run his thumb along your neck, presumably checking out his earlier handy work. You arch to get a better look at him, and given the subtle, but smug smile on his face, you’re certain he’s left quite the mark.   

“Let me guess.” You find your voice. “It’s not just the neighbours who’ll know who I belong to?”

“Hmmmm.” He tilts his head and puckers his lips in mock consideration. “I think you should donate all your scarf.”

“Jay!” You punch his shoulder, and he has enough decency to play along, briefly leaning back as though you could even make a dent on his towering frame. “Is it really bad?”

“No. No no no.” He’s lying through his teeth, snickering as he leans in to crush your lips with his own. His skin is slick with sweat you realise when you reach up to gently grasp his other shoulder and guide him closer to you. His morning breath is frankly kind of gross, but yours probably is too. Nevertheless, it’s a price you’re willing to pay for his affection.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks when he pulls back from your mouth, continuing to press kisses down your neck, along your collar, and slinking closer to your chest with each brush. He asks some variation of this same question everytime you fuck. Letting you direct how much you can take from him in one go or what kind of aftercare you need.

“I don’t know.” You hum, imitating your earlier indecision, as you stretch against the mattress. “Shower, coffee, and a book still sounds good to me.”

“Sounds very good. Mind if I join?” He’s not actually asking, that much is evident as he lifts you in his arms and cradles you against his chest as he stands. You’ll both be grateful to get your sticky, cum soaked underwear off. You’ll be even more grateful for the chance to lather and massage your boyfriend up in soapy bubbles, to really get your fingers on those pretty scars that call to you. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap later when you’re curled up on the couch, reading together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Jay.”

[liketolaugh-writes]

Sick Day Once A Year

I might be too much in love with the Death Echoes trope. So, have a whole bunch of Bruce taking care of Danny. It's basically a sickfic with extra hurt/comfort.

It takes place in the same verse as More Like Home but probably won't happen until after the plot of that fic is done. At this point, Danny has been living with Bruce for a little under a year.

-----

At noon, Alfred called Bruce to ask him to come home early. Bruce turned around and walked out of the board meeting without even looking at anyone, but did throw a distracted 'family emergency!' over his shoulder. He might have carefully cultivated his airheaded Brucie persona, but even then people knew that he took his kids seriously.

He ignored the board member that grumbled 'enough fucking family to have an emergency every day if he wants.'

"What is it, Alfred?" Bruce asked, once he was clear of the board room and in the elevator. Calm. Calm. No running. Brucie doesn't run.

"Master Danny declined to specify the nature of his sick day this morning," Alfred said, in a dry tone that didn't do a bit to hide the worry underneath it. "Apparently the anniversary of one's death is rather... physically harrowing for a ghost. He's admitted that he'd like to have you here."

But of course he hadn't asked for it, because that would require bringing up what he was. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Ten minutes at most."

"I'll let him know. Come prepared to spend several hours in his room, if not the rest of the day. He indicated that he may be well enough to eat by eight or nine o'clock, but even then..."

Meaning he expected to be debilitated until then. "Understood. Should I bring anything?"

"He's not aware of anything that will help, but some topical analgesic might be of use. I will see if I can find anything else to try."

"He's in pain?" Bruce's brow furrowed. Alfred hesitated before answering, which made Bruce's heart sink.

"He is... physically reliving his death, he says, and will be for most of the day. He is in quite a bit of pain."

"These kids will be the death of me," Bruce muttered. Danny hadn't even hinted at anything like this when he asked for the day off. Bruce made a mental note to keep him off patrol the next night as well. The elevator stopped, and he took off at as quick a walk as he dared. "I'll be there in ten."

"Yes, Master Bruce." Alfred hung up, hopefully to return to Danny.

On the way, he collected a few items that seemed promising: IcyHot cream in the strongest available formula, both heat and cold packs, a variety of compression bandages, and some muscle relaxers from the Batcave infirmary.

Bruce knocked on Danny's door. Cool air drifting out of it indicated either Danny or Alfred had turned the thermostat down lower than usual. Fortunately, Bruce had grabbed a jacket just in case.

"'M in," Danny mumbled, barely loud enough for Bruce to make out.

He pushed the door open and was unsurprised to see Alfred seated beside a miserable-looking Danny. He was surprised to see Danny in ghost form, as it wasn't a form he typically spent recreational time in, particularly when he was unwell. Perhaps it made the ordeal easier. Danny was curled up in his bed, on top of the covers, with his jumpsuit removed and a set of soft pajamas in its place. Alfred was running one hand through Danny's soft white hair, slow and comforting, while his other held one of Danny's.

"Hey, chum," Bruce called out quietly, drawing Danny's attention to him. "Heard you're hurting today." Danny hummed unhappily instead of denying it, which was concerning. "Think you'll be able to eat anything for lunch? Applesauce, bone broth, yogurt? Maybe with ectoplasm?" Danny didn't seem to have any intention of leaving ghost form.

Danny started to shake his head, but stopped to consider when Bruce brought up the last point. "Applesauce and ectoplasm," he mumbled. "Maybe. Nothing after like, two, though."

Alfred gave Bruce a warm smile and gently extracted himself from Danny. "I will see to it," he promised. "Do you need anything else, Master Danny? Master Bruce?"

Danny shook his head mutely, and Bruce said, "I'll text you an update once we've tried these." He hefted the bag he was holding. "If you could bring me lunch when you can, I'd appreciate it."

"Of course," Alfred promised. "I hope you feel better, Master Danny."

"Thanks, Alfie."

Alfred left, shutting the door gently behind him, and Bruce took his place, setting the bag at his feet for now. Danny didn't stir from his leaden sprawl, not even to lift his head.

"You didn't have to leave work, y'know," Danny mumbled, half into the pillow. "I'll be okay."

He didn't apologize, Bruce noted. That was progress. "I know I didn't have to. But someone should be here with you."

"I don't-" Danny choked, his hands squeezing into fists as his whole body shuddered and jerked as if tased. Danny panted through the spasm, his whole body rigid, and when it was over he slumped down and let out a weak moan of pain, making no attempt to continue arguing. It took Bruce a moment to remember to breathe, reminding himself forcefully that this was no attack.

"I brought you some stuff," Bruce said, softer. Danny grunted in discontent. Bruce leaned down and opened the bag anyway. "IcyHot lidocaine cream and muscle relaxers." Danny shook his head without looking. Bruce wasn't surprised. He hadn't realized Danny was in ghost form. "Both heat and cold packs." Danny hummed in mild interest but didn't open his eyes. "And compression bandages."

Danny blinked his eyes open to consider them. His usually neon eyes looked dull. "Worth a try," he muttered after a moment.

Good. Something was better than nothing. "Do you need help sitting up?"

Danny's mouth quirked in a dry smile. "Not yet."

He pushed himself up with a grunt, and shrugged off his pajama shirt with intangibility rather than lift his arms. Bruce had to suppress an immediate and visceral reaction to the glowing lines that coiled up his left arm, which he had only gotten glimpses of before; a telltale Lichtenberg permanently etched onto Danny's ghost form. In contrast to the rest of him, which had dimmed to about the light of a glowstick, the Lichtenburg mark was painfully bright.

"Where do you want these?" Bruce asked, lifting one of the rolls of elastic bandaging. Danny cocked his head and considered it. Then he gestured silently, indicating his left arm from his wrist to his shoulder, and twisted to give Bruce access. With the ease of long practice, Bruce started to wrap it. "Anything I should expect?"

Danny watched him unroll the bandages for a minute, around and around, getting halfway up Danny's forearm before he answered. "The pain comes in waves. They'll keep getting longer, more severe, and closer together until around four, and then they'll die down completely about two hours after that." He paused, watching Bruce loosen the bandages around his elbow before moving on. "It won't ever get as bad as actually dying, but it's still pretty bad. And I'll be really emotional for a lot of it, especially when it hits peak."

"When are you not." The words were out before Bruce could think twice about them. Fortunately, Danny laughed, tired but genuine.

"You've got me there. How many rolls of bandages do you have?"

"I brought three. Alfred can obtain more if necessary." Pretty bad, Danny said. Bruce had no desire to experience pain that Danny described as 'pretty bad.' His tolerance was high even for their family.

Danny shook his head. "That should be okay. Can you do my back too?"

"Yes, but I'll need to be closer." Danny scooted to make room, and Bruce shifted to sit next to him, then tapped a spot low on Danny's spine. "Starting here?" Danny nodded. "Alright. Is there anything else I should know?"

Thankfully, Danny seemed to genuinely think about it, but eventually he shook his head. "I've only had two of these," he reminded Bruce. "There's more stuff I don't know, probably."

Ah yes, a frustrating constant. The elusive nature of comprehensive information about ghosts. Even Constantine had large gaps in his knowledge, which Bruce would grudgingly admit was rare for the man. This? This was definitely not in the introductory handbook. Was Bruce now obligated to share information in return? Hn.

Danny squinted at him. "What did Constantine do now?" he asked.

"Constantine."

"You have a very distinct 'thinking about Constantine' face."

"Hn."

Danny smiled briefly, then yelped, curling up like a bug and accidentally dislodging Bruce's grip on the bandaging. Instinctively, Bruce tucked Danny against his side, and Danny shook and twitched against him, a desperate whine tearing itself free as Danny rode out the wave of pain. Bruce all but held his breath until Danny finally slumped again, breathing heavily. His chill crept through the jacket Bruce had slipped on before coming in.

"Ready to keep going?" Bruce prodded, once Danny's breath evened out. Danny laid there for another few seconds, then nodded and pushed himself upright with a wince. Bruce picked up the dropped end of the bandage, tightened what had come loose, and kept going. "You're sore?"

"Ha." Danny lifted his arms slightly, enough to make room for Bruce to work. Bruce shifted and encouraged Danny to rest his arms on Bruce's shoulders, and Danny did, leaning against him. "Yeah, I wake up pretty achy already, even though I don't start getting spasms until ten. Just to make sure I have a really miserable day."

Uncharacteristically bitter, Bruce noted, but unsurprising under the circumstances. He didn't comment. "Remarkably, we don't currently possess any upper back bandages. I'll ask Alfred to retrieve one if you're happy with the results. We do have shoulder and wrist bandages." Bruce finished wrapping Danny's torso but didn't pull away.

Danny turned his head to squint at the bandages peeking out of the bag. "Why'd you bring so many?"

"I know how you died," Bruce reminded Danny evenly. Electrocution implied muscle pain, and Bruce had suspected his left arm would take the brunt of it. Danny shuddered, a natural one this time, and pressed himself against Bruce for comfort. Bruce dropped an arm around his back, holding him. A minute or two passed, and then Danny pulled away with a sigh.

"Okay."

Right, yes. More compression bandages. These went by much faster, simply needing to be strapped on, and soon Danny's hand and shoulder had joined his left arm and mid-back in compression. He seemed satisfied with that and laid back down on the bed, somewhat more relaxed than when Bruce had first come back in. Bruce hesitated, then shifted closer again and set his hand on Danny's upper back, carefully trying to smooth out the painful knots that had developed there. Danny 'mm'ed softly but didn't otherwise react.

Alfred knocked on the door, and Bruce called him inside when Danny made no move to. Alfred pushed open the door and brought in two plates, one for Danny and one for Bruce. Bruce accepted his with a nod.

"Thank you, Alfred," Bruce said quietly. "Danny, are you up to eating?"

Danny didn't answer at first, but then shifted around to glower half-heartedly at the bowl Alfred had brought. Then he buried his face in Bruce's arm, grumbling, and Bruce's mouth twitched in amusement. It disappeared when another tremor wracked Danny's body, and the young teen bleated in pain, his grip tightening painfully.

Bruce forced himself to breathe evenly this time, and massaged Danny's hand with his own, pressing through the thick bandage. Danny slumped, panting, and with care, Bruce shifted his hand to massage all the way up Danny's arm, coaxing the tension out of the muscles there until he reached Danny's shoulder, skipped past the compression bandage, and pressed his fingers into Danny's back. Danny didn't say anything, but he pressed into Bruce gratefully and stayed relaxed. Somehow, still, Bruce was startled when Alfred joined him, cupping Danny's temple in one hand.

"Master Danny?" Alfred coaxed, more firmly than Bruce had. "Can you stomach some applesauce?" Danny whined, a softer-toned protest than the low keens of pain he'd let slip. "I know, but you will feel worse if you don't eat anything. I don't think you want that."

Danny grumbled something that sounded like 'no' and acquiesced, allowing himself to be propped up just enough to poke the glowing applesauce with a spoon. He brightened a little at the reminder that Alfred had added ectoplasm, and started to eat. Bruce followed his example and worked quickly through his sandwich.

"I see you're making good use of our extensive collection of medical garments," Alfred said to Bruce, making Bruce snort quietly. "Will you be needing anything else?"

"If he's satisfied with the improvement from these, we'll need one for his upper back as well," Bruce said. "I'll let you know."

"Perhaps after this, the collection will be complete."

Danny got through about half the applesauce before he pushed it away, and Bruce set it on a clear spot on his nightstand before Alfred could pick it up. He glanced up at the butler. "I'll see if I can coax more of this into him later."

Alfred gave him a small smile. "Very well. I'll check in later to see how the two of you are doing."

Bruce nodded, and Alfred left to attend to the manor. Bruce turned his attention back to Danny and considered him. He had a few more questions - why Danny was staying in ghost form, if there were any physical effects from this - but nothing that couldn't wait until Danny was less ill. He picked up his tablet instead. "Would you like me to read to you?"

Danny tilted his head up to look at him, then nodded. It was barely twelve thirty and he already looked exhausted, pale even for his ghost form and cradling his left arm protectively. Bruce hoped he'd be able to sleep at some point, but that seemed unlikely until the pain had passed, which apparently would not be for hours.

Bruce picked up his tablet and quickly downloaded a book. Danny had mentioned wanting to read 'The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy' a few times, but hadn't gotten around to it yet. "The story so far: in the beginning the Universe was created. This has made a lot of people very angry and been widely regarded as a bad move."

Danny snickered softly.

As always, reading to his kids made time pass a little faster. It also gave him easy access to the digital clock, and with the note function innate to the Kindle app, he could keep track of the time and Danny's progressing condition, most importantly the interval between spasms and the relative severity of the pain.

After half an hour, he noted that the current interval period was about twelve minutes and asked Danny, "Are the compression bandages helping as much as desired?"

Danny nodded. He'd pulled a thin blanket over himself after a while, mainly for comfort, and his hold on his left arm was still loose enough that Bruce believed it was more psychological than physical for the moment. "Hurts less when I can't jerk around so much. One for my upper back would be good. The shoulder one isn't quite cutting it." He made a face.

Bruce shot off a text to let Alfred know. "Anything else you want?"

Danny wrinkled his nose. "Heat pack?" he asked, softer and more tentative, as if there was anything Bruce would say no to right now.

And that was simple enough. Bruce activated one of the handheld heating packs and handed it to Danny, who shuffled around a little before putting it on his neck, by the junction of his shoulder. Bruce picked his tablet back up and continued reading.

Alfred returned about twenty minutes later with the requested bandage, and Danny didn't protest when Bruce went to help him sit up. He wasn't weakened, Bruce judged after a minute, but there was a minute tremble in his muscles that indicated the pain was ramping up even outside of the periodic spasms.

Bruce helped him get the new compression bandage on, and then paused to smooth out some of the building tension there. Danny leaned in gratefully - he was much more physically affectionate than most of Bruce's children, he'd come to realize, except perhaps Cass and Dick. Bruce kept an eye on the clock, and made sure to get Danny down before the next spasm hit. Danny groaned, the sound drawn-out and wavering unhappily, and clung to Bruce through it before falling into a shivering, panting slump.

Alfred ran his fingers through Danny's hair, nodded to Bruce, and left quietly, as harried as ever when one of the kids was suffering.

"You happy like this, chum, or do you want to lay back how you were?" Bruce asked Danny quietly. Danny grunted, then squirmed further into Bruce's lap. It was a little eerie, Danny being so light and cold in this form that Bruce could have mistaken him for a lap full of snow, but it made Bruce smile for a moment. "Alright."

He settled down and picked up his tablet to resume reading, noting the time and event before he continued.

A part of Bruce, a not-so-small part, was furious that Danny had meant to handle this alone, without anything to even try to ease the pain; it reminded him of when nine-year-old Tim had caught a bad strain of flu, and how confused he had been when Alfred insisted on him staying at Wayne Manor to be cared for. This might not have been particularly dangerous, it was true, but Danny was miserable now and only promised to get more so through the day.

He wondered briefly how Danny had spent the previous two such events. Certainly not with his parents, there being no human explanation for this. Could he even be home for it, in the comfort of his own room, or did he have to go elsewhere? Had he been alone for either of them? It unfortunately seemed likely, especially if he hadn't known about it in advance the first time.

Even with the bandages stabilizing half his upper body, Danny's groans and whines slowly progressed into low keens of pain, and he started to clutch at himself through each one, gasping for breath like it was the only thing that would bring him comfort. Bruce shifted so one of his hands rested on Danny's shoulder, where a gap between the shoulder and upper back bandages seemed to be creating a sharp spot of pain that Danny kept trying to get at. He massaged it carefully without looking away from the tablet, and Danny relaxed a little, panting.

At two thirty, Danny started to cry, exhausted tears shining on his cheeks and faint, breathy sobs following each spasm. At three, Bruce noted that the interval had decreased to six minutes, then set the tablet aside and transferred his attention to comforting Danny.

"How are you feeling, chum?" he asked quietly.

"Hurts, God, it hurts," Danny choked out, trembling like a leaf and his better hand clamping down on his shoulder again. "'S so cold, Bruce. It's in my bones. Shouldn' be in me."

Cold. Ectoplasm? Bruce wasn't sure. Danny had never described his accident at length. "Heat pack?"

Danny nodded jerkily, so Bruce leaned forward, careful not to jostle him, and grabbed a few. He lifted the blanket enough to place one on Danny's upper back and one on his lower, then noted the time and the request. If this was indeed a yearly event, a thought that made his blood boil, they'd need to be better prepared for it next year.

A stray thought crossed Bruce's mind. Did this happen to Jason as well? Jason had never referenced anything of the sort, but he also knew that Jason never went out on the anniversary of his death. Bruce would know; he'd specifically looked out for him the first few years, before the habit became apparent, and still kept half an eye out since.

Danny cried out, no longer making any effort to muffle the noise, and seized and jerked through another long episode. Bruce counted silently. Up to thirty-three seconds. When it was over, he sobbed and curled closer to Bruce.

"Why'd they have to build that stupid portal?" Danny choked out. Bruce ruthlessly clamped down on another wave of rage at the eldest Fentons. "God. A-ah. This sucks. I wanna go to bed. I want it to be over." His voice cracked.

Sleeping pills, or a sedative? They wouldn't work on Danny's ghost form either, but depending on why he wasn't reverting to human, they could try to get him to sleep through as much of the day as possible. Something to discuss later on. "It's 3:16." Danny whined in protest. "I've got you. What hurts the most?" He checked on the heat pack by Danny's neck, making sure it was still in place.

"My chest hurts," Danny sobbed quietly, his face wet with tears. "My heart is stopping."

Unfortunately, Bruce couldn't help with that. He set his hand on Danny's chest anyway, and Danny reached up and clutched at it, apparently finding comfort in the futile gesture all the same. Even his hand trembled.

"'M scared, B," Danny confessed after another minute, almost too quiet to hear. Bruce's chest tightened, and he breathed through another wave of frustration and hatred before he could soften his voice enough to reply.

"You're going to be fine, Danny. You'll be in pain for a few more hours, but that's all it is."

"'M already dead," Danny murmured. From inflection, Bruce deduced that it was meant to be self-soothing.

Bruce's throat ached. "...Yes."

At four o'clock, the interval dropped to two minutes, counting from the end of one spasm to the start of the next. It barely gave Danny time to breathe, and he tossed and turned until Bruce moved both of them so Danny could sit up and hold onto him, crying into his shoulder. Danny held on with bruising force - and no more, as careful as Clark even now - and jerked, hands tightening and loosening in Bruce's jacket with the ebb and flow of relived pain.

You did this to him, Bruce thought at the elder Fentons, more than once.

At exactly 4:36 - Bruce was keeping as close an eye on the clock as he could manage - Danny screamed. Bruce immediately recognized the sound from an echo audible in his Ghostly Wail. Bruce's jacket tore under Danny's hands, and a horrible, quaking tremor seized Danny in an unmistakably fatal grip. Bruce counted the seconds and held Danny too tightly for him to accidentally shake himself loose.

Forty-six seconds. That was how long the worst spasm held him. Bruce assumed that was also how long it had taken Danny to die.

In contrast to the other times, when it finally released him, Danny pressed in closer instead of loosening his grip, and sobbed hysterically.

"No, no," Danny choked out, and "Please, I don't wanna-" and "Dad, Dad."

What did you say after something like that?

"I've got you," Bruce settled on. "You're safe. You're with me."

Danny calmed down slowly, sobs dying down into heaving breaths and then into a deep but labored rhythm that closely matched Bruce's but seemed to take much more effort. The next spasm that hit was much lighter, lasting only eighteen seconds, but it still sent Danny into renewed shudders and tears, holding on tightly.

When Danny seemed calm enough, Bruce shifted him enough so that Bruce could hold him in one arm, then pulled his tablet back over and logged the time of death, length of the accompanying fit, and what had followed. Interval immediately increased back to more than ten minutes (Bruce had unfortunately missed the precise time) and period decreased to eighteen seconds.

Danny set his head on Bruce's shoulder.

After that, things got much easier. At 5:15, Danny removed himself from Bruce's lap to lay down. He removed all of the heat packs and passed them to Bruce, but kept the compression bandages on. He didn't reach for the blanket but hummed gratefully when Bruce pulled it over him anyway, and Bruce sat on the floor beside him and debated returning to reading aloud.

"Whoa. You two look wiped."

Bruce looked up. Duke had opened the door to talk to them, probably too worried by what he'd seen through the door to remember to knock first, and his expression was pinched with worry. "Duke. Anything on patrol?"

"Uh, some movement I'll tattle to Jason about, but nothing big." He studied them with concern. "How's Danny doing? I didn't realize he was this sick."

Hm. Had Alfred declined to explain what had happened? Bruce glanced at Danny as the teenager hummed unhappily, but Danny didn't say anything else, so Bruce provided, "He's had a long day. I expect he'll go to sleep soon. We'll debrief tomorrow."

"Debrief?" Duke frowned at him, understanding immediately that there was more than what he'd been told, but then he glanced at Danny and just nodded. "Alright. Feel better soon, Danny. Get some rest, okay? I'll let Alfred know how you're doing."

Danny's hum this time was more positive.

At 5:30, Danny fell asleep. At 5:45, Dick came in to check on them and left once he'd come to look at Danny's sleeping (calm) face, and at 6:15, Cass came in with a plate of food for Bruce and a few granola bars for Danny. For when he wakes up, she signed.

A little while after 6:30, Bruce fell asleep without meaning to.

[tanadrin]

@grimogretricks

For people saying that airport security is wholly theatre and that it doesn't do any good- certainly it seems they've gone overboard on certain things, but what is your explanation as to why hijackings and terrorist attacks involving planes are MUCH less common than they used to be?

Sorry that this is mostly off the dome, and has less references than I would like. We argued this stuff to death in the aughts, though ultimately the political incentives in favor of security theater were just too great. Everyone is terrified of the potential backlash of not being seen to do enough in advance of the next big terrorist attack, I guess. And to be clear, we are talking mostly about post-9/11 airport security measures as being security theater. Some degree of airport security has been necessary since people started getting on airplanes with guns and informing the pilot that, hey, guess what, we're going to Cuba instead of Miami today.

But the big reduction in airplane hijackings came with the institution of metal detectors to keep guns off airplanes after a couple high-profile hijackings in the 1970s. But remember that these incidents were of a very different character than what we now think of as the risk to airplanes: they were certainly a problem, but the modus operandi of hijackers in this era was to force the plane to fly to a non-extradition country and land safely. 9/11-style hijackings, that used the plane as a bomb and killed everyone aboard, were on nobody's radar--when the goal was blowing up the plane and killing passengers, bombers generally used bombs planted in checked baggage, which requires different security measures from passenger screening.

Two security changes occurred after 9/11 that made future such hijackings basically impossible: one, probably most importantly, was that passengers understood they no longer could count on hijackers having an interest in surviving the hijacking. This change in passenger behavior was immediate: later that same year when a guy tried to bomb an airplane (using a really ineffective device hidden in his shoe) passengers immediately acted to restrain him. The second important change was reinforcing cockpit doors and keeping them locked: this makes hijacking airplanes with knives (the only major modality left to most would-be hijackers) functionally impossible.

All the other intense passenger screening and security measures implemented after 9/11 has been repeatedly shown by security researchers to be pretty ineffective, not even very reliable at stuff like keeping knives off airplanes. For years after 9/11 there were endless news stories about law enforcement running drills at airports and weapons making their way through security. A lot of later security measures, like liquid limits in carry-on baggage, came from terrorist plots that didn't even make it off the drawing board (and are unlikely to have ever worked anyway), and seem mostly to be overzealous ass-covering by transportation security officials.

And, finally, we should note that the real security threats to airplanes in the post-9/11 era seem to have come come from two sources that are basically impossible to protect against using traditional security methods, and for which passenger-based security screening is useless: anti-aircraft missiles and suicidal pilots (plus an honorable mention to aircraft companies trying to skirt certain regulatory requirements).

Despite what decades of American media would have you believe, elaborate plots targeting transportation infrastructure and involving like a dozen people are actually not at the top of the list of terrorist methodologies--why time and money training members of your organization to fly planes into buildings, when you can just use social media to convince a guy to drive a car into a crowd of bystanders, or stab somebody on the street? It's much cheaper, and much, much harder to guard against. Random lone-wolf terrorism is, unlike the kind of elaborate plots portrayed on TV, and one-off real-life examples like 9/11, basically impossible for security services to guard against in advance. But in order to justify the war on terror, and large budgets for security services on anti-terrorism grounds, it was necessary to play up the threat of such plots, even if by its very nature 9/11 was impossible to repeat. For similar reasons, the post-9/11 era also played up the threat of Islamic extremism and large overseas terrorist networks, even though far-right extremists acting in small groups also have managed to kill huge numbers of people in spectacular ways.

So for all these reasons, and those noted at the top, the political incentives around transportation security means that passenger screening measures in airports are almost guaranteed to be a one-way ratchet, even if they don't work. It's a bit like the fabled anti-tiger amulet--it's easy to say the lack of tigers is proof it's working! Even if the real reason there are no tigers about is that you live in Ohio. The media environment post-War on Terror helped create a public appetite for and approval of such anti-tiger amulets, too, of course. This was not by any means a purely top-down phenomenon.

[runningatypufullspeed]

WAIT FUCK I DIDNT KNOW THE AUTHOR OF THIS BOOK SUPPORTED AI AND HAD THAT WHOLE NOT SUPPORTING PALESTINE THING GOING ON well okay maybe I suspected the ai part because of the whole glorification of the thunderhead in all his books BUT I DIDNT KNOW ABOUT PALESTINE WHAT THEFUCK HAD I KNOWN. WOULDNT HAVE POSTED THIS EWWWWW EW

Sketch for a school assignment

[la-di-da-la-di-dee-die]

@wolfythewitch ‘s Gravity Fowls au has awoken a lost childhood memory of mine recently, specifically because their au is so similar to one of my favorite books when I was a kid: Fantastic Mr. Fox

Basic summary of the book: Three Evil Capitalist Farmers attempt to starve local anthro fox family who regularly steal their products (chickens, goose, duck, turkey, and apples/cider) via bio terrorism, failing miserably at every turn.

Now, you may be wondering, what the actual fuck does that have to do with Gravity Fowls? Well, a major part of the book is that the previously mentioned anthro-fox family has been forced underground by previously mentioned Evil Capitalist Farmers, and so Mr. Fox (the mc) has to devise a fool proof method of getting his family food: tunneling farther underground toward the Evil Capitalist Farms and stealing their produce that way instead of the regular way. I don’t know why, but that just sounds like something Bill would do? Like it just fits his vibes.

So, I just had to draw Bill in Mr. Fox’s outfit!

Isn’t he just so handsome? I also drew one other fanart, and some quick context for this next one:

The Evil Capitalist Farmers also accidentally drive the other wildlife into hiding with their bio-terrorism, which are also anthropomorphic (note: all the animals are anthro, but not the chickens or other produce? Probably too dark for a kids book idk). The other animals blame Mr. Fox for being a fucking sneak, and Mr. Fox is like, woah guys! Don’t worry, I’ve fixed everything, I’ve got an infinite food glitch! We just use these tunnels me and the fam have dug to steal more food! I even got some carrots for the vegetarians! And the other animals are like, alright seems legit.

Why all this context? Because I drew Bill’s henchmaniac crew as origami animals based off the other animals from Fantastic Mr. Fox:

I imagine they still live in the nightmare dimension, but they just origami now. btw all the animals in the book have names like Mr. Weasel, and Mr. Mole, with wife and kids too, which is wild to me. Except Mr. Rat. He’s an aweful disgusting thief (which, who in this book isn’t??) whose constantly getting drunk off Cider (which, again, who tf in this book isn’t?? Even one of the anthro-kids gets drunk at some point??)

But I didn’t just make fanart that catered to me and only me, I also made this:

I had this thought of, what if during weirdmagedon, instead of just getting a 3D form, Bill turns into an actual fox, not just an origami one? So that’s where this came from. Also it should be criminal how long it took me to draw Stanford! I spent so long on that fucking chicken.

Uhm, conclusion? Gravity Fowls is awesome, and respect to Wolfythewitch for being able to actually draw chickens consistently well, I only dream to be able to master that skill.

[klausysworld]

Can you do a story where reader has been bullied her whole life from Caroline and she’s always been the second choice, since klaus came into town she’s always had a crush on him and he knew about it , when the ball came around and klaus took Caroline instead of yn she was really upset and Caroline could see that and humiliates her infront of everyone including klaus and klaus goes after her and comforts her you can choose what happens after thank you sm!!

I Could Never Compete

Caroline had always made a point of being better than me.

Whether it was turning my friends against me, taking cheer captain from me or stealing Tyler, my boyfriend from me. The worst part wasn't even that she did those things but that she did them just so she could publicly make fun of me for them.

"I mean, what are you even gonna do during the summer? It's not like she have any friends left." She'd make sure to say loud enough for Elena and Bonnie to hear, making them stare right at me. She told Elena that I tried to make-out with Matt whilst they were together and she told Bonnie that I was making fun of her for being abandoned by her mother. Neither were true, at all but I couldn't exactly prove it and Caroline only had to tell the lie to a few other people before everyone was believing it.

"Please, you've let yourself go. That's why you can't be captain anymore, just look at yourself. The whole squad knows it." She'd tell me in front of all the girls on the team and trying out for the team. It made me angry because I knew I was actually better than her in this but she made everyone think I was useless. I had been training years more than her, a hundred times harder. My diet was to make sure I could compete in cheer and dance, ballet specifically which she also had to get into and when we were little she pushed me over so my ankle was hurt and she could do swan lake instead of me.

"You didn't really think that someone could love you? Even like you when I'm in the picture? Tyler's stupid but he's not that thick. He has eyes and he has a dick and he knows what's better for both. I bet he didn't even want to touch you, you ugly pig." She spat. We were at a party and Tyler had tried to apologise to me but she cut in. Everyone went silent and watched as my face went red and my eyes blurred with tears. It was Stefan that lead me away, it was at his house after all. But I think he was the first person to imply that he didn't believe all of the things said about me and he told me that Elena had questioned the rumours to him. I should have been relieved that someone believed me but the effects had already happened and the truth probably wouldn't make my life any easier at that point so I just thanked him and went home.

I don't really know why I thought Klaus would be different, maybe because she already had Tyler and that should've been enough? Of course not.

But I didn't expect it from Klaus. He's over a thousand and surely much more mature than a teenage boy tempted by another girl. It hurt me when Tyler cheated, obviously it did, however I could make sense of that. I couldn't make sense of what Caroline could have said or done to make Klaus switch up so easily.

Especially with how he'd been.

I hadn't really loved Tyler but I think that I had actually fallen for Klaus. It wasn't just the drawings and the priceless gifts, but it was the way he looked at me and the softness he spoke with that he never seemed to use with anyone else. His touch was always just right, even when he was getting rough he was never forceful like Tyler got. He still knew not to grab too harsh or push too hard. There was something natural about being with him which made everything seem so effortless.

I guess I noticed him being a little different when his family was undaggered and awake but that was expected with the amount of stress he was under. Still, he had mentioned me meeting his mother and even told me about the ball.

There was no reason I wouldn't have gone.

I didn't have as much money as Caroline and Elena and Bonnie with their lovely big houses and hundreds of outfits. I wasn't struggling as bad as Matt anymore but I wasn't exactly stable either.

Which meant that getting a dress to be able to go to the ball and feel comfortable was really difficult for me but I made sure I did it so that I wouldn't embarrass him or myself in front of his family. I made sure not to eat the day before and the day of so that there was zero chance of bloating and I spent hours making sure I was ready before paying a taxi to take me.

I think I probably should have known something wasn't quite right when Klaus didn't even offer me a dress. Not in an entitled way but just because it was unusual for him not to. He told me he enjoyed knowing he had provided those nice things for me and that he liked knowing he was the reason for the smile on my face.

Again, the entire situation was so huge for him that I didn't expect things like that.

But I also didn't expect to walk in through those double doors and see his hand cupping her face and her gloved hands in his chest.

I could feel the lump in my throat forming, my heart racing and the humiliation already hitting.

Caroline turned her head, the loose pieces of curled hair swaying beautifully beside her face as she looked right at me, cruel smile on her lips and sadistic glint in her eyes. Klaus was still looking at her, probably admiring how the blue of the dress complimented her hair and eyes.

It was in that moment that everything she had ever called me felt real. I felt ugly, I felt cheap, I felt fat. I wanted my skin to peel off and reveal a completely different person, someone who could actually compete with Caroline's beauty.

I took a step back, ready to retreat home but I bumped into someone with a tray of champagne making the glass smash everywhere. I felt a piece dig into my ankle and it prompted a tear that was already waiting in my eye to finally cascade down my face.

When I glanced back up Klaus was hurrying toward me, his eyes holding that softness as both his hands went to my shoulders. I caught feel my breathe catching in my throat, barely escaping my chest as he tried to say something.

Caroline's hand was on his arm, pulling his hand away from me as she let out an amused scoff. "God. You literally can't get any more pathetic Y/N." She told me, her eyes scanning me over making her raise an unimpressed brow. "Ew." She stated simply. "Could have at least made an effort, no wonder he wants me-"

"Don't listen to a word out of her. Come on, love, we'll go upstairs and-" He tried to cut in but Caroline wasn't having it.

"Don't hush me. You invited me here. You gave me everything I'm wearing and you practically promised to help me take it off later." Caroline spat and I couldn't stop the cry that bubbled from my mouth. It physically hurt.

"Y/N!" I heard him yell but I wasn't there, I was outside, my heels in my hands as I went barefoot whilst running down the concrete. My breathing was fast and I refused to look back but that didn't stop him from appearing in front of me, his arms holding my against his chest as I tried to shove him off. "Please, love, please." He whispered, his tight firm so I couldn't move making me relent and just cry in his hold instead. My legs went and he was knelt on the cold floor, holding my up so the soles of my feet weren't still pressed against the tiny stones and chunks of dirt.

"Why would you bring her and not me?" I sobbed into his chest and his hands gripped me firmly.

"My mother had me invite her...I didn't imply it being anything other than platonic-"

"You gave her a dress and you held her face. You want her!" I yelled at him but he just wouldn't admit it.

"We're going to your house and I'm going to fix this, love." He told me, standing up and adjusting his hold on me before we were inside my house a second or two later.

He put me down and I was heading up stairs immediately but he was pulling me back and pleading me to sit down.

"I want out of this stupid dress, Klaus. I want it off, I want to burn it." I sniffed, my hand messily wiping the tear from my face.

"It's a beautiful dress." He whispered, his hands holding my waist so I couldn't leave. I looked up at him, his eyes as sad as mine as he leaned down to kiss my cheek and the corner of my mouth. "I shouldn't have invited her, I should have told my mother no. I should have sent you a dress and I should have picked you up myself. I'm sorry, I promise you that I'm sorry." He uttered, his hands sliding up to my face.

"I don't care that you didn't spend your stupid money on me." I whimpered and he looked down for a second.

"I know...I know, but I was going to and I didn't. I know it wouldn't have been easy for you to-"

"I handled it just fine. I got a dress and I got there, all you had to do was be there for me and you weren't, you were there with and for her."

"I wasn't. I don't want her, I don't ever even talk to her. I love you, you have to know that." His head was shaking as he spoke and his eyes were flickering between blue and gold.

"I can't compete with Caroline, Klaus, you know that." I whispered and his hand rested on the back of my head, pulling me close so our foreheads were touching.

"There is no competition. There never was and there never will be. You're mine, and I'm yours. We're gonna go upstairs and lay down and we'll stay there until you feel better, okay?" He murmured, pulling me along with him making me stumble at the reminder of the splinters in my skin and the glass by my ankle. "Fuck. Okay, c'mere." He mumbled, picking me back up and taking me up the stairs and putting me down on the bed.

"Laying here isn't going to make anything better, Klaus." I sighed, trying to ignore the pain as he grabbed the tweezers from my drawer and cleaned me up.

"Then we'll go somewhere, we'll go to Europe and I'll take you to France and Greece and Spain- Italy!" He listed, clearly getting more and more stressed as he bit his hand and let the blood drip into a glass of water, his finger swirled it round before he was urging me to drink it, holding my legs in his hands to watch the wounds disappear.

"I don't care about those places, I just cared about you." I sniffled and he frowned, laying down beside me and pulling me onto him.

"You still care about me now. I know you do and some stupid girl isn't ruining that. I don't love often but I love you and you're not going anywhere." He stated, no room for argument as his tone got colder.

His eyes resoftened when he looked back at me and he just wouldn't let go of me until I told him it was okay.

I wondered if it had been any other girl, if I would have felt as bad as I did now. Was there something wrong with me? Or was Caroline just that perfect?

[saphronethaleph]

Snooze Cruise

Anakin’s head was whirling as he got into the speeder.

The Chancellor was a Sith. Chancellor Palpatine was a Sith.

The man had been a close friend for – well, since Anakin had left Tatooine, really.

And he was a Sith.

It was… too big. There was too much to grasp.

Anakin backed his speeder out of the parking spot, turned to fly to the Jedi Temple, and yawned.

This led to him nearly crashing into an air lorry, and he skidded abruptly to a halt in mid-air before shaking his head and groaning.

“I can’t believe it,” he said, out loud.

He needed to speak to someone about this.

He should probably speak to Padme about this.

Turning the speeder, Anakin took the air way to their apartment instead, doing his best to concentrate on flying instead of on the fact that Palpatine was a Sith.

The door opened, and Anakin raised his voice.

“Padme?” he called.

“Ah!” C-3P0 said, coming in from one of the rooms leading off the entrance hall. “Sir, I am afraid that Mistress Padme is not currently in. She is involved in a meeting.”

Anakin almost demanded to know if that meeting was with Obi-Wan, before shaking his head as he remembered that Obi-Wan was on Utapau.

“Should I… let her know you want to see her?” C-3P0 asked.

“No, Threepio,” Anakin waved the offer off. “I’ll just wait for her to get back. It’s… something I need to think about before we talk, anyway.”

“Oh, I see,” C-3P0 decided. “Or, rather, I don’t. But I’m quite used to such things. Do you want something to eat, Sir?”

Anakin waved that offer off as well. “No thanks. I’ll just sit down.”

He divested himself of his cloak, hanging it up on one of the hooks by the door, then went through to the main living area and sat down on the couch.

Within a few minutes, four days of no sleep had caught up with him, and he passed out.

Mace Windu glanced at the time – almost eight in the morning – and then flicked on his comlink.

The first comm code he called produced no reply, even after a wait of several minutes, and he frowned slightly before switching to a new combination.

That one, fortunately, produced a response almost immediately. Senator Padme Amidala answered the call.

“Master Jedi?” she asked. “This is Master Windu, yes?”

“That’s correct, Senator,” Mace confirmed. “I was wondering if you knew where Anakin was. I’ve called his comlink, and he hasn’t answered.”

“I don’t know where he is, no, I’ve been involved in a meeting all night,” Padme replied. “Master Jedi – did you know about the Abolition Act?”

Mace blinked.

“I’d heard of it, yes,” he said. “So far as we’re aware, it’s a legal mechanism to try and dissolve the Jedi… we’d believed it was a scheme by Darth Sidious, an attack against the Jedi.”

He glanced in the direction of the Council chamber. “That’s one reason why Obi-Wan launched his attack on General Grievous on Utapau. We hoped to draw Sidious out.”

“I don’t know if that’s what’s going on, but the Chancellor just announced that the Abolition Act was coming up for a vote,” Padme said. “I didn’t have a clue why, but if Sidious is involved… do you think he managed to get to the Chancellor?”

“It’s possible,” Mace admitted. “When is the vote?”

“It’s outside normal order, so… now,” Padme answered.

Mace turned, striding to the doors of the council chamber, and Kit, Agen, Sasee and Coleman looked up from their seats as he entered.

“Something’s happening,” he said. “Senator, can you keep us updated?”

“I’ll do my best, Master Jedi,” Padme promised.

“How important?” Kit asked.

“As important as it can get,” Mace replied. “The whole Order needs to hear this… I can feel it.”

The vote counts began coming in, and Palpatine tried to suppress a nervous twitch.

He was having to improvise. Improvising in the end game was a difficult thing to do, especially when he had no idea why his gambit had failed.

What should have happened was that he would have his new apprentice, or he would have an open break with the Jedi Order… which would earn him his new apprentice anyway.

But as of now, he had neither. And without his new apprentice, he didn’t have nearly as good an excuse for an open break with the Jedi Order… he could not very well have Anakin give his account of how the Council had been planning to bypass and replace the Chancellor.

If he was going to get his empire out of this, he needed that break. Order 66 could not take place without some kind of reason behind it, something he could point to, and yet it had to take place as soon as possible… the war was entering its final phase, and within days the Jedi would be returning home. Away from their loyal soldiers… away from their hidden assassins.

So be it.

If there was anything that would force a break with the Jedi, it was this. And, as the votes rolled in, Palpatine saw that he had managed it… at a great cost, but he had managed it.

At least four factions in the Senate had been persuaded that they had to vote in favour of the Abolition Act despite Palpatine’s professed wishes to keep the Jedi around. Two of those factions had been persuaded by Palpatine himself arguing that their votes were necessary for political reasons, and that the Act would never pass anyway.

“The motion is carried,” Mos Amedda declared.

“I bow to the wishes of the Senate,” Palpatine announced. “And now that it is law, I am bound to carry it out. The Jedi Order will be dissolved, effective…”

Immediately? No. He needed enough time for them to act rashly, not enough time for them to think.

“...as of ten in the morning, today, Coruscant time,” he decided.

The Senator for Naboo signalled to speak the instant it became possible, and her pod floated out into the central arena.

“I have a reply from Master Windu of the Jedi Council,” she said, without preamble, and Mace Windu’s holographic head appeared in projection from her systems.

“Sure,” Master Windu said. “The war’s basically over anyway.”

Palpatine blinked.

“...what?” he asked.

“The war’s basically over anyway,” Mace repeated. “An hour to pack might be a bit tight, but I think we can fit everything into some of the freighters.”

“Are you saying you’re going to just leave?” Palpatine asked, not quite sure what he was hearing.

“Yes,” Mace confirmed. “We have all been working very hard for years, often without much of a rest, and we would very much like a break. If you don’t want to keep us around, we’ll do it elsewhere.”

The image wavered, and a second hologram appeared next to it.

“We’re with you, Master Windu,” Clone Marshal Commander Bly stated. “Voting’s going on now, but I’m sure of it. All of us are – we quit. We’re your army, not the Republic’s, and that’s how it should be… you won’t waste our lives.”

“You were listening in?” Mace asked, sounding amused.

“If it affects all the Jedi, it affects all of us,” Bly declared. “And speaking for myself, Master Windu… we would very much like a break as well.”

Palpatine was staring at the holograms.

“...you are all listening in?” he said, then decided he was never going to get an opportunity better than this one. “Initiate Order Sixty-Six!”

Commander Bly just looked confused.

“Chancellor?” he said. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’d like to know that myself,” Senator Amidala admitted.

It took all of Palpatine’s immense self-control to avoid reacting to that bit of news.

Hiding Order Sixty-Six in the biochips of the clones forming the Grand Army of the Republic was the greatest bit of deception and complex planning the Sith had managed in-

Palpatine’s train of thought screeched to a halt, backed up, and examined the proper nouns involved.

...the clones weren’t part of the Grand Army of the Republic any more, or of any direct successor organization involved. They’d quit.

Someone, presumably someone Kaminoan, had simplified the programming by using a function definition that didn’t apply in this situation, and he was now buggered sideways with a lightsaber.

Anakin yawned, stretching, and his hands touched metal.

“Mwuh?” he asked, blinking a few times, then rolled over on their couch and fell onto a metal floor.

That got him the rest of the way awake, and he looked around with surprise.

He was on… a starship, with a blanket half-tangled in his legs. There were crates packed and stacked haphazardly around the bed he was on, and the quiet murmur in the Force of sentients elsewhere.

“Ah!” Threepio said, appearing at the door. “Master Anakin, sir. It is good to see you are awake. Shall I inform the rest of the Council?”

“What’s going on?” Anakin asked, touching the hilt of his lightsaber. “Where am I?”

“I’m not an expert at hyperspace navigation, sir,” Threepio replied. “That is more Artoo’s department. But I believe we are about halfway between Coruscant and the Yavin system. A lot has happened since you fell asleep.”

“Including me being moved into a spaceship?” Anakin asked.

“You were very deeply asleep, sir,” Threepio confirmed.

“…you quit?” Anakin asked, ten minutes later, looking between the holographic forms of the other Councillors – and the half-dozen Clone Commanders who were also on the call. “All of you?”

“The Senate voted to disband the Jedi Order,” Mace told him. “The Order’s not part of the Republic, but it could have caused us a lot of problems. So… we left.”

“Our ally, the Force is,” Yoda said, nodding sagely. “Helped with packing, it did.”

“The only thing we’re not sure about yet is why the Chancellor said what he said, during the meeting,” Rex told him. “We’ve been trying to work it out since we hit hyperspace. Politics in the Republic are very confused right now.”

“I could… probably help with that,” Anakin said. “Though I guess first I should say… is Padme okay? We’re – we’re married.”

That resulted in a ripple of laughter through the call.

“We know, sir,” Rex said.

“All of us,” Mace agreed. “You moved in with her.”

“It was actually causing a problem,” Ki-Adi-Mundi informed him. “Students were asking if marriage was really not allowed or just that we were supposed to pretend it wasn’t.”

“Clearly the second option,” Sasee opined. “Clearly.”

“...do you also know that the Chancellor is a Sith?” Anakin said. “He told me.”

“Okay, that is new,” Obi-Wan admitted. “Perhaps we should tell your wife. She might find it useful to know.”

[elssero]

having thoughts about stoner sero x secret stoner reader

h.sero

♰ slightly suggestive, lots of talk about weed. i wrote this while stoned :3 i love weed and seros my favourite so that means he loves weed too!!

your smoking a blunt on your dorm balcony the first time your caught. you hear movements to your right and your head snaps towards the noise- it’s sero, out on his balcony sniffing around like a fucking idiot. he turns around and his eyes lock directly with yous, blunt in your mouth as you take a long draw. his mouth forms a small circle as he watches you inhale and exhale- perfectly, making it incredibly clear to sero that this is definitely not your first time smoking. not even close.

he watches you closely for a second- brows furrowing as if trying to crack some kind of code. you’ve never spoken to sero before, at least not properly, it’s not that you don’t get along with the boy- not at all. he just always seems to be surrounded by a crowd in which you opt out of being around.

you don’t have an actual problem with his friends- you can tell their great people, you just prefer the company of your own- quieter friends.

despite only being around half way through the smoke you decide your done, not quite ready to let him watch u finish the blunt, you let it go and float it quickly over to sero, he’s only a single dorm to your right so it’s a pretty easy job, just incase- you float your lighter over with it and you were right to do so, the blunts no longer lit when it reaches him, he grabs the smoke quickly, as well as your light that follows and presses on the gas, you watch as the glow from the light shines on his face- highlighting his features. he holds the lighter up to you and you take this as a sign of him being done with it, pulling it back over to you.

you don’t stay out on your balcony for long after that, instead opting to make your way back inside- leaving a very confused and red faced sero outside.

you don’t talk about that night- at least not for awhile. instead he begins smiling at you in class, giving you a little wave as he walks into the class and walks straight towards his friends. you keep silent- liking it better that way in the mornings as you don’t quite have the energy to converse with people so early.

you should probably be stressing that sero knows about your little habit but your not. if anything he was probably the best person in the class to know- seeing as he’s very open about his own interest in substances.

you know he won’t judge you- you doubt anyone in the class really would, that doesn’t stop you from wanting to keep it your little secret though- you just hope sero wont open his mouth.

the cycle continues- every few nights you head outside, smoke half a blunt before floating it over too sero for him to finish- it’s stupid. you two haven’t really ever had a full conversation in your years at UA but still, you find yourself looking toward to your late nights.

your in bed tonight. completely out of weed for the week before you can find time to pick some up at the weekend, your new relationship with sero causing a serious dent how long your stuff would normally last you.

struggling to sleep you take out your phone, you make a plan to open up instagram before a message catches your attention.

sero: come outside.

it’s the first time he’s ever messaged you. he must’ve gotten your number from the class chat you’d been added too last year by uraraka. you don’t hesitate getting up, not even bothering to change out of your arguably showy nightwear. you feel it when the cold hair hits your exposed thighs and you immediately wish you had at least such a proper pair of pants on.

he’s already outside when you step out, stood lazily leaning against the barristers of his balcony- he looks at you, eyes trailing your body and you watch as they widen slightly when he reaches your lower half.

he brings his eyes back up to meet yours and he beckons you over. your confused for a second. you don’t have a blunt to give him? until he mouths back no you. he’s pointing at you before again gesturing behind him. get over here.

you don’t argue- too sleepy to fully argue the pros and cons as your now floating over to his dorm balcony- at night- alone.

your face to face with him when you get a look at what he’s holding in his other hand- a blunt. he doesn’t say anything as he gives it to you, placing it between your lips and he holds lighter up to light it- you inhale.

you ignore the fact that the situation you’ve found yourself in is extremely inappropriate- you can’t even begin to imagine the trouble you would be in if your caught- blunt in your mouth and with a boy alone at night.

he begins to speak to you- the first real conversation you’ve ever had with the black haired boy.

“can’t believe i didn’t know you smoked” he’s smiling- you can’t quite tell if the tone of his voice is that of surprise or teasing.

“you never asked.” it’s a short reply, much like the ones you usually give your classmates. it’s not like you don’t enjoy their company, you just enjoy the quiet more.

“you never really gave me the chance.” you decide not to respond. instead opting to take another long draw of his weed before taking it from your mouth and handing it back to him.

you thank him politely, placing a hand on the banister as you prepare to levitate yourself back to your dorm.

“you should smoke with us sometime!” it’s rushed- you can tell by the increased volume of his voice when he speaks now. you don’t really understand why? you’ve never really been close before but the offer of free weed is one you might need to take him up on.

“i’ll think about it.” you give him a small smile as you depart from his balcony. only turning back to look at him for a second before you open your own dorm door. he hasn’t moved an inch from where you left him and you decide you think he’s kinda cute like that. all frozen up and a little flustered.

you close your dorm room behind you meaning you don’t see the little cheer he does when he’s sure your finally gone. bumping his fist in victory as he finishes his smoke.

he’s finally found a way to wriggle into your life and he couldn’t be more excited.

[fanfics-i-find-here]

Do I know You? Part 3

Jason Todd x Reader (no reader character this chapter)

Synopsis: Jason's family is far too nosey for their own good.

Notes: This chapter is a little different. I wanted to try Jason's POV and add the rest of the family. If any of them seem out of character, you’re probably right. Again, this was just an attempt to add a little drama to move the story forward and please enjoy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Masterlist

Jason had experienced a lot of things in life, but he really hated family dinners. It’s not that he hated his family (only sometimes). It's that it always felt awkward. His guard was constantly up. He had wronged just about everyone in the room one way or another. Not that they ever physically showed repulsion towards him, he didn’t believe that they had forgiven him, not in the slightest. He just thinks they have all collectively decided if we don’t talk about things, they didn’t happen.  Which was fine with him, but it apparently made himself less intimidating to them, considering how Dick was currently draped over his shoulder, yammering on about something that happened in Bludhaven.

“and then I said ‘That’s not a very nice thing-‘” Jason cuts him off.

“No offense, Dickwad, I don’t know what you're talking about.” He says gruffly, crossing his arms in front of him. He had been led into a trap he thinks. Dick had texted him and told him dinner would be at 5:30 tonight instead of the usual 6. He should have seen it as the red flag it was since Alfred usually calls him about family dinners. Dick promptly pouts and dramatically lays himself across the couch beside Jason.

“that’s so mean, little wing, I’m trying to tell you a story.”

“Yeah, a story you’ve told everyone, like, five times” Tim jumps into the conversation where he sits upside down on the couch with Steph playing an old-school Gameboy.

“TT, I agree with Drake and Todd. If you tell this story again, Grayson, I may choose physical violence against you.” Damian adds from where he sketches a charcoal drawing of Titus and Cass. Jason chuckles at the fact that both Damian and Tim agree with him, but his body stays tense, he takes periodic looks in the direction of the kitchen, willing Alfred to move quicker. He contemplates just going to help Alfred instead of staying here when he tunes back into the conversation.

“-no one else around,” Steph says not looking up from her phone in her upside-down position.

“you guys are no fun” Dick continues to pout as he sits back up, clearly not having gained an ounce of sympathy in his pose. He turns to Jason with a look in his eye that worries him.

“So, Barbara says you’ve stopped by Aparo Park a lot on your patrols. What's that about?”

Jason didn’t know his body could tense more than it already was. You lived two blocks from Aparo Park, and he had made a routine as of the last two weeks to check if you were home safe. Tonight was the first time he wouldn’t be stopping by. It's why he went to see you at the coffee shop and walked you home, to make sure you got there. He forgot that Oracle tracks everyone during patrol and silently curses her for sharing that information with Dick of all people.

“Changing up patrol” he answers casually and that should be enough. They all constantly change their patrol routes so it's harder for anyone to track their movements. Apparently, it's not enough because Steph perks up from her seat.

“Are you sure about that?” She questions with a smirk. Oh, she knows something.  Dick had looked like he was going to drop it but at Steph’s comment, he leans back in.

“Not Patrol, then?” He looks at Jason expectantly and Jason pointedly ignores him to glare at Steph to keep her mouth shut. She just shrugs like she's not an instigator in this conversation. When Jason doesn’t speak up, Tim does.

“No, he's been seeing a girl.”

Jason seriously contemplates if it would be bad if he chose to beat Tim up again and drag him back to Titans Tower to make it real reminiscent of the old days when Jason was trying to kill everyone.

“A girl?” Duke interjected. He had been blissfully silent during the entire conversation, and Jason was hoping to keep him as a sibling he liked. Apparently, it would be just Cass and Damian who sat quietly as Damian sketched.

“Yeah, she's real pretty and she's a waitress at a bookshop,” Steph adds like Jason isn’t there.

“She's also not from Gotham, moved here like three years ago over some family drama,” Tim says, and Jason again resists the urge to strangle him.

“You’ve been Stalking her,” Jason states. So much for you only having one ‘Stalker’.

“So, it is a girl!” Jason turns to see Dick grinning widely. “I'm so proud of you little wing!” Dick looks like he's going to dive in for a hug, so Jason stands and ignores the “Oof” of Dick hitting the couch. He points a finger at Steph and Tim.

“Stop stalking her and don’t tell Dick anything.” He points at Duke, who hides a grin behind his hand. “You were doing so well man; you were on my favorite sibling list.” He drops his hand. “I'm going to help Alfred.” He turns and walks through a door and heads for the kitchen. As the door closes, he hears Dick screech, “You have a favorite Sibling list!”

He shakes his head as he walks down the hallway. So much for having a personal life. He doubts Steph had done any stalking, but he knows Tim tells her just about everything and she tells Cass everything, so Cass is definitely in the know too. But Cass also knows when to play the right cards. He was anxious to see when that would be. With Dick, you give him an inch and he’ll take a mile. There’s no doubt he's in there pestering Tim about the Details.  Thank God Damian couldn’t care less about this stuff. He continues his way towards the kitchen when he meets Bruce in the hallway.

“Bruce” Jason says formally

“Jason” Bruce says in a similar manner. He pauses and then says “Your early”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens with a manipulative family.” It comes out harsher than he means it to, but he's still peeved with his siblings. Bruce says nothing so Jason adds “I'm going to help Alfred.”

He doesn’t wait for Bruce to say anything as he continues to the kitchen. Part of him wants to kick himself for letting his emotions get the better of him. While he was tense with the family, things had been getting better and he didn’t want to break that good record because he got emotional over you. He just wanted something good (You) to be just his. But apparently, that was too much to ask.

As he entered the kitchen, the aroma of toasted tomatoes, warm cheese, cooked pasta, and basil overtook his senses. An undertone of melted chocolate and oven-baked cookies hidden underneath it.

“Master Jason, What pleasant surprise, you're early.” The soft tone of the older man draws Jason in. Apparently, Dick didn’t share his scheming with everyone. First Bruce and now Alfred. He wonders for a moment if they think he's trying to reach out or something, but he pushes down the thought.

“Dick’s fault.” He muttered. The way he says Dick’s name implies that he’s not using his actual name.

“Ah, Master Dick does like his way of things. Would you mind stirring the tomato sauce for me while I finish these Cookies?” Alfred asks. Jason moves to the stove. He knows it’s a simple task and one that could have waited until Alfred was done with the cookies but as always Alfred can read Jason in a way the rest of his family sometimes can't.

He stirs it quietly as Alfred works at the island. For a moment he’s reminded of a time before everything went sour. Back when he was Robin and it was just him, Bruce, and Alfred at the Manor, Dick was off doing his own thing. On days he didn’t have school, but Bruce still had to work he would shadow Alfred. The kitchen became its own sanctuary from the hero-ing lifestyle, (Since Bruce was banned from the kitchen after a microwave incident). He would sit at the counter and help stir whatever it was Alfred needed, always giggling as he stole licks and bites here and there. Looking back, he's sure Alfred was intentionally oblivious. The old man had a sharp eye, and he definitely knew. But Jason had been small, malnourished from his time living on the streets. Alfred always gave him what he thought was too large a portion.

“Are you alright?” Alfred’s voice shakes him from his thoughts.

“I’ll be fine.” He huffs out and then backtracks, turning to face Alfred. “I'm just a little upset. My siblings don’t know anything about privacy.”

“I presume this is in reference to your friend.”

Of course, Alfred knows. Jason rolls his eyes but responds quietly, “Yeah”

Alfred is silent before he responds.

“it's only because they care. You’ve come a long way, Master Jason, but you still have lengths to go, as do we all.” He says as he turns back to the cookie tray and places it into the oven. “I do hope, when you're ready, I will meet this girl.”

“Course, Alfred,” Jason says easily. Out of everyone in his family, Alfred would be the person he wants you to meet. Not that you two were anywhere close to that or heading in said direction. He’d barely had a number of short conversations with you, but he couldn't help but hope. There was just something about you that drew him in, and it had grown ten times when your life had been on the line.

Over the next ten minutes, he helped set the table and the food out, thankfully avoiding his siblings. But peace doesn’t last forever. One by one they slowly straggle into the dining room. In the time he had been gone, Barbara had gotten there. He’s almost prepared to share a few choice words with her but his conversation with Alfred stops him from saying anything out loud. It doesn't stop him from thinking it though.

Jason is thankful when Cass takes the seat next to him, but it lasts only so long as Dick takes the one on the other side. He waits expectantly for Dick to say something to him but is surprised when it's Cass that talks to him first.

“She would be good for you,” she says quietly and pats him on the arm. “You need to get her first.” And just like that the conversation is over as she starts dishing up her plate. Out of everything he had expected out of Cass, that wasn’t it. He stares shocked for a moment before Dick interrupts the moment.

“Am I on your favorite sibling list?”

“No”

“Why not?”

“Take a guess.” He answers as he serves himself some food.

Dick silents as the clattering of everyone getting food fills the space, along with the sounds of other personal conversations. After a moment Dick speaks up again more serious than before.

“I’m sorry, Jay. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot earlier, just wanted to check in with my baby brother.”

Jason lets out a sigh, “Alright, Dick, your forgiven. Besides you’re not the one stalking her.” He pointedly glares at Tim who only glances at him before going back to talking to Bruce.

“Now drop it.”

To Dick’s merit, he doesn’t say anything finally content with silence. The rest of dinner goes on without any more incidents. Bruce does his normal check-ins running down the line. Dick’s been chasing down a drug trafficking ring showing face in Bludhaven, Tim was planning a new mission with the Titans, Cass, Steph, and Barbara were planning a girl's day out with some of the other Birds of Prey, Duke had had a few slow weeks of day time patrol, and Damain went into a myriad of reasons on why he shouldn’t have to go to school. It was nice to just listen to everyone, living their own lives. When it came to Jason’s turn, he gave a quick rundown of the last three outlaw missions he’d dealt with. Nobody else commented on you, something he was truly grateful for.

At the end of the night, as everyone went their separate ways, Bruce pulled him to the side. He waited nervously to be berated about something. He couldn’t remember killing anyone recently, so it wouldn’t be that type of conversation. Bruce stared him down before setting a firm hand on his shoulder.

“I heard something about a girl.” Jason rolled his eyes. Of course, Tim told Bruce, the whole household knew now. Before Jason could speak Bruce continued.

“Don’t worry. I'm not here to pry. I just want to say I'm proud and I hope to meet her someday.” Bruce squeezed his shoulder before dropping his hand.

 “Get home safe and we’ll see you on patrol.” With that, Bruce left him in the foyer. Jason stood shocked for a moment before making his way to his bike. Who knew his family could care and be so invasive at the same time.

Additional Note: Thank you to everyone who reads! I'm currently figuring out where I want this story to go in terms of plot because it feels like it should be going somewhere. This chapter was an attempt to get more characters and again if they feel out of character, they most likely are. I know more about fanon versions than canon versions. Thank you, Thank you, everyone! Someone did request a tag list, so I am creating one. You can ask to be added but if you have commented in the past I will just be adding you. If you would like to be removed please let me know!

Tag list: @little-miss-naill, @nikilolo787, @joonunivrs

[hauntingrabbits]

More Batman/My Little Pony au art because these are ridiculously fun to draw. Part 3 here! Part 1 here!

More info under the cut!

1. Sweet Talk/The Harlequin (Harleen Quinzel)

Originally contracted to work as a psychiatrist for the Tartarus villain redemption program, Sweet Talk had a unique relationship with the Joker. This relationship was proven to be even stranger than her coworkers had originally assumed when she broke him out and joined him in his life of crime.

Devoting herself entirely to her new life and relationship with the joker, she covers her original cutie mark at all times. Snce her horn was snapped she can no longer cast precise spells, leaving her magic mostly emotion-based and intensely volatile, (typically manifesting in the form of sparks, zaps, and explosions).

Other Notes:

-Using Tartarus as a substitute for Arkham Asylum for this au because why not.

-The villain redemption program did NOT go well. Sorry Twilight.

-Mostly based on BTAS Harley because I adore the original costume.

-Her horn was cracked by the Joker

2. Pudding Pie/The Joker (The Joker)

Batpony’s most notorious foe. Said to have been just a regular pony until he fell into a vat at an Ace Potions factory during a conflict with Batpony.

He doesn’t have a Cutie Mark, but it’s unclear whether this was always the case or instead a result of his accident. The effects of permanent Cutie Mark loss—the only known cases of which occurred via long-banned magic and/or traumatic injury—are largely unstudied, and it’s ramifications are unknown. Some ponies theorize this may be the reason for the Joker’s mental state and general disposition.  

Sundown has a different opinion on the matter.

Other notes:

-Based mostly on BTAS joker and the ‘89 Nicholson joker.

-His name is just based on Harley’s “pudding” nickname for in in a lot of versions, but I think it would also be hilarious if he was a distant relative of Pinkie Pie.

-I could leave it ambiguous but. Yeah the potion vat didn’t actually do anything beyond slightly altering his physical appearance. He’s just like that and he never got a cutie mark in the first place.

3. Gadiel/Scarecrow (Jonathan Crane)

Raised among ponies, Gadiel was relentlessly bullied for being gangly and birdish, earning him the nickname “Scarecrow” in his youth. Though he later successfully became a professor and psychologist in Gotham, Gadiel was eventually fired when he was found to be testing his fear-inducing potions on his students and purposefully putting them through terrifying and dangerous situations. Deciding to take his experiments to the masses, Gadiel donned the mantle of Scarecrow and weaponized fear to become a career criminal.

As the Scarecrow, he’s known for his skill in manipulation, psychological torture, and crafting dangerous potions and gas. The effects of fear on magical creatures are unique and intense, much to Gadiel’s delight and interest.

Other Notes:

-I wanted to make his front half a crane but I couldn’t get the long neck to work right with the mask, so he’s more crow-like instead.

-according to the wiki 1/3 of Griffin names start with a G so naturally I was extremely tempted to name him Gonathon and you should all be very grateful I did not. The name Gadiel has origins in the bible as the name of an archangel which I thought was fitting given the insane religious trauma some versions of the scarecrow went through. I thought about trying to do something similar for this version but given that the mlp universe uses Princess Celestia as a replacement for God in expressions like “Celestia knows where” and “Oh my Celestia” I wasn’t really sure how to go about it. There’s probably some kind of sun-worshipping thing in equestria idk.

-I spent a long time on the mlp wiki but from what I could find the only “fear” magic in the show is just used by one guy and its just called “dark magic”. I thought for sure there would’ve been some random plant or magical creature they dealt with at some point that maybe did something similar I could use for his blurb but unfortunately there was not.

4. Mandible/Falseface (Basil Karlo/Matt Hagen)

Hungry and deeply resentful of the changeling queen for forcing her underlings to share what little stolen love they had with her, Mandible went rogue early on and split off from the hive to pursue his own ventures. Finding success under the name Claypose as a pony actor in Gotham, he was sustained primarily by the one-sided love of his fans for years, despite the false identity having no real prior personal relationships to leech from. 

After a magical special effects accident on set revealed his true nature, he went into hiding and immediately started crafting a new persona, but soon found in his distress and rage over losing his identity as Claypose that he could no longer sustain any disguise long enough to keep up a long-term facade. Blaming the accident, he targeted the unicorn responsible by posing as his wife to leech his love, but ended up killing the pony in a panic when his disguise failed much faster than he’d anticipated it would. Unable to keep up a new identity or return to the hive, Mandible turned to a life of crime instead, doing dirty work for the bigger criminal names in Gotham and leeching love from his employer’s targets to survive.

Other notes:

-Clayface being a changeling was an obvious pick given his power set but I really wasn’t sure how to tackle the main issue of him being unable to keep a solid form for long. I went with his distress and frustration being the main thing keeping his disguise flimsy (so he gets put in kind of an ourobouros cycle where his disguise being bad makes him upset but him being upset makes it harder to fix his disguise), but the magic accident probably also contributed somehow.

-Why are all the changelings straight up just named after body parts in this show whats that about. The “Clay” in Claypose is obviously a reference to his title/schtick in the comics while the “pose” comes from both his job as an actor and the fact that he’s posing as a pony. Mandible is the name for the jaw part of an insect.

-there's actually an entirely different batman villain called falseface in the '66 series (…and another in the comics apparently, whoops) but I couldn't come up with anything better. Changeface just does not roll off the tongue.

3. Winglon/Killer Drake (Waylon Jones)

Originally intended to be used in an entrance exam, his egg was stolen from a Canterlot delivery cart on its way to Celestia’s school of magic and sold on the black market to a Pony Island circus. Raised to be part of the freak show, Winglon was pitted against circus performers and overconfident challengers in ring fights for money and entertainment. Enduring abuse and injury throughout his life from ponies that he was always fundamentally stronger than, it was only a matter of time until he snapped. Garnering the name Killer Drake for his actions, Winglon escaped into the Gotham sewer system.

Not knowing how to return to the dragonlands or whether he’d even fit into dragon society at all, he continues to lurk in the dark away from any life, deeply resenting ponies and all other manner of magical creatures that make friends with them.

Other notes:

-I like silly names ok. Winglon Jones. -I like the theory that the dragon egg used for Twilight’s entrance exam was actually fake/meant to be a no-win scenario, but I also don’t think it would be that hard for enterprising ponies to get their hands on dragon eggs. The practice probably stopped in the later seasons when they made friends with the dragonlands or whatever though.

-Given that dragons threaten to eat or kill ponies at multiple points in the show, the cannibalism is actually kind of understandable. And also not even cannibalism anymore. Still murder though.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Transferrable Skills Part 8

Transferrable Skills Masterlist

Read on AO3

CW: Smut, 18+/MDNI, praise, kissing, manual stimulation, self-stimulation, oral sex (Simon receiving), premature ejaculation, dirty talk, power exchange, fingers in mouths

Notes: Bambi is not perfectly obedient in this, and Simon loves it. They have a lot of formal protocol, but they are also playful.

It takes a few moments to come back to yourself. One of your hands is still pulling at his pants, and you discover that the other is hooked over his shoulder. Simon is still panting against your face, rubbing the tip of his nose over your cheekbone. You can’t help but purr as you clench around the fingers that are still inside of you.

You slide your hand up under his shirt as you turn to catch his lips with yours. His breath shivers into your mouth as you pet at the hair on his belly, then up his side. He jerks back, pulling his shirt off with a quick motion that makes your mouth water. When you push yourself up onto one elbow to touch, he huffs a heavy breath.

Simon is covered in scars. More than you’d been able to see over video. The silvery reminders of the violence of his life are thrilling in your post orgasm haze, instead of scary. He’s also just thick, barrel chested and wide waisted. He looks real, rough around the edges in a way he never is on camera or in your dreams.

You mean to reach up to tweak his nipple, but your eyes get caught on the way he’s more than filling out his sweatpants. When your fingers dip, instead to tug at the waist, his hand catches your chin.

“You okay?”

Yeah, you should probably say. I feel fantastic. That was probably one of the best set of stretches I’ve ever done. Thank you. Please kiss me some more.

But none of that is actually that important right now. “Can I suck your dick?”

He barks a laugh, even as you watch him twitch in his pants. His thumb presses on your lower lip, drawing your mouth open the slightest bit. “Not sure I c’n last long if you do that. Gimme a minute.”

That strikes your pleasure drunk mind as kind of stupid. You sit up a bit more and lick the pad of his thumb before taking it into your mouth. When his fingers go tight under your chin, you make eye contact, purse your lips and suck. The gut punched sound he makes spurs you on, and you dip your fingers into his waistband.

You pull off to press a messy kiss to the side of his thumb. “Please, Simon? Let me make you feel good?”

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he growls, pushing his thumb back into your mouth. When you take it almost to the back of your throat, he groans. “I mean it. Won’t last.”

“Mm-mm,” you agree. Around his thumb, you slur, “Wan’ it.”

Your fingers tugging at his clothes again spurs him into action. If the world weren’t so floaty, you’d whine when he pushes himself to stand off the side of the bed. As it is, you stretch all the way down to your toes and slip a hand down to pet ticklishly over your clit as he starts to strip down. His hands come to a stop, so you look up at him. He’s watching your fingers between your thighs.

“Didn’t say you could be doin’ that,” he rumbles, as he resumes stripping down. “’Ands off.”

You barely hear him. You’ve never had an unobstructed view of Simon’s whole body, before. He’s seen your everything, more or less, but he’s always kept the focus on you. You’ve never seen his thighs, you realize. And the his subpar camera had never done anything to do his cock justice.

Rolling onto your hands and knees, you follow him up the bed as he settles onto his back. Your arms are a bit wobbly, but you want to fall into him, so you do. The course hair beneath his belly button is the first place your lips land, and you can’t help but nuzzle in. He makes a startled sound, but doesn’t stop you.

He smells clean and a bit musky. You don’t resist the urge to kiss the soft pudge beneath his belly button, which jumps when you close your hand around his cock. He’s hot and heavy in your grip, uncut. Not as long as you thought he might be, but thick, like the rest of him. His hips pulse up when you give him a gentle stroke and you hear him bite back a low noise. That won’t do.

You give his belly a quick parting kiss before dipping down to drag your tongue over the head of his cock and take it into your mouth. He’s already so wet for you, salty and bitter as you wrap your lips around him and suck. Simon makes an odd sound, a gasping groan, and squeezes your shoulder in one big hand so suddenly it makes you gasp.

The first jet of his cum splashes across your lips. You’re only able to give him two strokes before his other hand closes around your wrist, so you kiss against him instead as his whole body shivers. He stays hard in your grip, making aborted thrusts as he spurts onto your cheek, once, twice more.

“Fuck,” he finally hisses, “Gentle, Bambi, gentle, ‘n I c’n keep... Fuck.”

You can do gentle. When he loosens his grip, you slide your hand down to the base of his cock and tip forward to take him back into your mouth. You don’t exactly love the taste, but it’s worth it for the way you can feel him throb in your hand, between your lips. The way he whines when you pulse your tongue against the underside of his cock makes you squeeze your thighs together.

You can’t help but peer up the length of his body at him, across the slopes and planes of him to the underside of his chin. He’s pink. You’ve seen him cum before, but you’ve never seen him heave for breath like this. Never felt his hand shake as it strokes over the slope of your shoulder, barely resisting the urge to clamp down.

He could hurt you, if he’s not careful. The fearful thrill of that realization sends a shiver through you. You stifle your own moan by taking more of him, relaxing your jaw to let him slide against the back of your tongue. His hands abandon your skin to ball up into the sheets.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell.” He finally tips his head down to look at you. When his eyes meet yours he huffs a strained laugh. “Look at’chu. Proud of y’reself? Showin’ off, sweet thing?”

You could pull off to answer. Instead, you do your best to swallow with your mouth fuller than it’s ever been.

“Don’t do tha’,” he groans, throwing his head back again. “Gentle, fuck, ‘ave mercy, Bambi. Lemme just...” One of his hands comes up to cup the side of your face, thumb swiping gently over the curve of your cheek. He groans again as you bob down to try to kiss the top of where your hand holds him steady.

You tip your head into his grip and slide your free hand down your body. It’s awkward, not your preferred hand or position, but you can’t not touch yourself. You end up rocking your hips into the pads of your fingers. When you find the right angle, pressure glancing off of your clit, you can’t help but moan.

That gets his attention. When he looks at you again, his eyes dart over your shoulder to where your ass rolls behind you. The hand on your face gets firm, holding you still as he watches you.

“What did I say?”

He said gentle, he said have mercy, so you soften your touch, use the tip of your tongue to play with his foreskin in a way that makes his grip tighten. And then he’s lifting you away, hand gentle even as he curses under his breath as your bottom lip drags over the head of his cock.

“Told you to stop touchin’,” he pants down at you. When you turn your head to take his thumb into your mouth, he takes hold of your chin, pinning your tongue. “Not listenin’ to me anymore?”

He uses the grip on your jaw to draw you up, until you’re forced to use both hands for balance on either side of his wide hips. The hand that isn’t holding you goes under his own head. It’s a distracting flex of muscle that makes his scars ripple.

“Bambi.”

You can’t answer with anything more than, “Ah.” Too late, you realize you’re drooling and close your mouth over his knuckle.

Simon chuckles and strokes the underside of your chin with his fingers. “Need more, don’t you, sweet girl?” He nods your head for you. “Yeah. My girl don’t stop at just one. That’s jus’ got you all revved up, huh? Pretty cunt needs more attention.”

[satorusugurugurl]

Heat

Summary: Your heat hits you at the club, but luckily your boyfriend is there to take care of you.

Characters: WolfHybrid!Geto Suguru x CatHybrid!AFAB!Reader

Warnings: abo themes, hybrids (like wolf ears and tails), abo universe. Heat/rut, usage of the terms Alpha/Omega, breeding, sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, knots

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: Kinktober Day 17 ABO WolfHybrid Suguru! look I’m a slut for ABO okay!

You had planned out your evening perfectly. From the shoes for the best comfort to the clubs you would hit up with your friends. Everything was planned to the tea. The one thing you hadn’t planned was for your heat to come early.

You should have known it was coming when you got to the club. You felt warm, but you thought maybe it had been due to the pregaming you had done at Shoko’s appointment or the cramped car ride in the back of Nanami’s car. You finally realized what was going on when your gaze focused solely on your wolf-hybrid boyfriend, Geto Suguru.

he looked so good. His long raven hair was in his signature half up half down style. The bun was tied neatly and secured with a band. His matching black wolf ears twitched with amusement as he chatted with your friends, his tail swishing back and forth quickly. The hoodie he was wearing reeked of his pheromones. That earthy, musky scent was your utter downfall.

Your cat ears twitched as you hurried through the crowd, your tail smacking anyone who got in your way. Your heat fueled your momentum until you finally met your boyfriend. His ears twitched as he turned to look down at you, head tilting to the side as you grabbed his arm, holding onto it to study yourself as you heavily panted.

“Princess?” His concern made the heat that was growing between your legs worse. “Are you okay?”

You didn't trust your voice enough to speak. Instead, you pulled on his arm, leading him towards the exit. But Suguru had misconstrued what you wanted as you began heading through the crowded dance floor. So, of course, without you saying outwardly what you wanted, Suguru had created a scenario for himself. So as much as you wanted to keep moving, Subaru stopped his hands, grabbing your hips, pulling you flush against his crotch as he began dancing against the curve of your ass that he loved.

The sudden contact in stimulation had you biting down roughly on your bottom lip as you fought back a needy moan. “S-Sugu,” you whispered, gasping softly, eyes going wide as he grounded his hips innocently against yours. He didn’t intend to draw out the moans from you; your boyfriend was just trying to be as close to you as he could. Which probably wasn’t the best idea, seeing that you were feeling absolutely feral and that you were close to losing your mind.

“You wanted to dance, right?” Suguru whispered, making your ears twitch with pure anticipation.

“N-No.” Even though your body betrays you as your hips seamlessly grind back against him.

“No?” Sharp teeth snap at your earlobe, gently tugging on it. “Yet you’re grinding against me like you do.”

What were you supposed to do when your heat was about to hit you like a freight train in a crowded club? And while you want to let your heat take control and have your Alpha fuck you into next week in the middle of the club, he just thinks you wanna dance. In reality, that’s a terrible idea. But this position, along with the grinding and smell of him as he rubs his hands all over your body, enhances the pleasure that’s already coursing through you and clouding your judgment when you should be thinking logically.

Yet you still rock back against him, faster, grinning as your alpha growls in your ear. “I really didn’t want to dance,” you confess, speaking the god's honest truth.

“Really?” fingers dig into your hips, squeezing them as Suguru rocks against you harder. “You could’ve easily fooled me, Princess.”

Your body heats up more as your slick coach your inner thighs. “I-I’m being serious,” you whisper, biting down your bottom lip as you fight back against the pure horny fumes building up inside of you. Telling you to throw caution into the wind and just fuck your boyfriend right there. “I-I’m going in—” you bite back a whimper, not even needing to finish your sentence.

Because Suguru can smell you, that sweet, sugary scent that wafts off, you combined with vanilla, has his ears perking up. His hips are still, but his cock throbs at the attention as the reality of the situation wash over him like a tremendous rainstorm. That momentary shock, the surprise, turns into a need that wraps around him like sticky tape that just wants to be stuck to you in every way he can.

He needed to get you home before you triggered his rut.

“Omega.” he grows in your ears, sending a shiver of pure horny desire down both of your spines. “Are you in heat?”

There’s a sense of relief that comes with his question as Suguru grinds his hardening erection against your ass. “Yeah.” but there’s also a twinge of hesitation that accompanies that relief.

This heat had come unexpectedly. Something neither of you had been planning for. This wasn’t the first heat you and Suguru had gone through together. All the other ones Suguru had been with you for had been planned out meticulously. Not only was this the first one that had unexpectedly shown up, but it also hit you in public, and you didn’t have a scent patch. You weren’t sure how an alpha male would handle this situation.

Would he take you right there on the dance floor? Make sure everyone in the club knows who you belong to. Or would he sneak off to a dark corner and fuck you in the crowded club?

Your answer came as soon as it crossed your mind. Suguru grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you out of the club and down to the street, where he called for a card to pick you up. He didn’t say much, keeping his mouth closed until the key unlocked the door to his apartment. You stepped inside, and all hell broke loose. He snarled as his tail and ears perked up before he grabbed you, slamming you as hard as he could against the back of his door. His eyes shut as he began licking your scent glands as he ground his hips, rocking them against yours.

“S-Sugu!”

His claws came out of his fingers, and he shredded the tiny dress you were wearing into pieces. “Omega.” He growled a quick work of his clothing, dropping it to the ground.

Seeing your mate, bare and naked in front, the last of your restraints shattering to the ground like glass. Your body was on fire internally, leaving you in almost agonizing pain. You howled, your back arching off the door. "A-Ahh!! A-Alpha-!" You whined whimpering and pure, unfiltered need.

Suguru growled, following your every movement, looking at you with hunger. "Omega, tell me what you want." He asked, kissing your neck as he trailed his long fingers down your body, caressing your slick sex.

“Need you! I need your fingers!” Suguru growled as he began plunging his thick fingers inside of you and curling them to stimulate that spongy spot that you loved. The one that left you seeing stars every time he touched it fucked against it. That immediately pacified you, leaving you whimpering but not crying. "'S g-good S-Sugu!" you cried out softly, leg shaking as you tried to keep yourself standing.

"Yeah?" Suguru questioned his tail, slightly wagging at the praise you gave him. He growled, continuing to suck and nip at your sink glands while his fingers kept pumping in and out of your tight wet cunt with a purpose. "That feels good, Princess?” He kissed and sucked on your neck.

"Y-Yeah!" You whimpered, your tail swaying as you rocked against his hand. Your body was still hot, burning bright. "But I-I need your knot, Alpha. Pleeease!" You whined quietly, and there was no possible way Suguru nodded, lifting you and carrying you to the bedroom.

“Of course, little omega, I got you.” He dropped you on the bed, forcing you onto your side. “I'll make the pain go away.” His lips trailed over your scent gland, groaning as you whimpered, lifting your leg to drape over his hip.

As he gently peppered your neck with kisses as he rocked against you, his cock throbbing, another wave of heat overcame you. Leaving you feeling like jelly in his arms. “S-Sugu—nngh.” You whispered something he couldn't hear at first. His wolf ears twitched as he focused in on your voice. As Suguru shut his eyes, he finally could make out the soft, desperate plea. "K-K-Knot—” You whined, gripping the sheets as he rocked his length harder against your folds. “Please, Alpha, I-I need your knot!”

Suguru growled, not hesitating at your request. Instead, he grabbed you by the chin, forcing you to look at him before he slammed his lips on yours. "Princess." He faster ground against you, his hardening erection rubbing directly over your clit. "You smell so good, fuck god, I want you." you whimpered in approval, and Suguru snapped.

Hearing what his omega, this needy had his rut grabbing him by the balls, telling him to fuvk every ounce of cum into you. So Suguru grabbed himself by the base of his cock, spitting into his free hand to lube himself up before he was pressing against your entrance. As the head of his thick fat cock pressed into you, he could smell your sweet slick taking a moment to smell you before he slammed into you with a howl.

You gasped out loud, one of your hands reaching around, grabbing the back of his head, forcing his face into the crook of your neck as he fucked you roughly. "A-Alpha!!" You couldn't hold back your adorable, soft voice. Instead, your feral actions left you screaming in need as Suguru’s cock railed into you, relieving all tension that had been building up all evening lessened as the pain alleviated. Leaving the following words to come out of your mouth, yours and yours alone. "B-Breed me."

"Ah, fuck!!" Suguru snarled, licking your scent glands again as he fucked into you. The metal bedframe creaked; god was so hot it was fucking ridiculous. "Omega~ I wanna breed you!" He barked out with a howl as he slammed into you faster.

“M-Me too!” You cried out, your eyes rolling back into your head as you desperately ground down against him. "A-Alpha!!"

"O-Omega!!" Suguru felt as though there was a fire in his chest as he cried out your name, thrusting deeper inside of your wet heat. He Clance down, watching as you ground your hips back against him, forcing his cock deeper inside of you. "Y-Yes, just like that." He praised as he nipped at your bottom lip before kissing you desperately. "Fuck I love you."

You giggled blissfully as your boyfriend turned you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist as you both remained on your sides. This gave you the perfect opportunity to kiss him deeper while digging your nails into his shoulders. You needed all of him. So you did the only logical thing, and Omega, such as yourself, would do it. You forced his knot into you with a cry as he stuttered, hips seizing up as you cried out. "F-Fuck!! I love you too!!"

Suguru’s mouth fell into a silent moan as he felt your walls clamping around him, trying to milk him for everything he was worth. “Fuck! Princess!” His eyebrows pinched together as he continued fucking you, scenting you as his mate. "I love you, omega~ I love you!" His knot twitched and swelled more inside of your already tight pussy as he fucked you ruthlessly, his teeth gazing over your scent glands, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

You wanted him; you needed to be his in every way you could. You could barely think, but somehow, you managed to form two coherent words as you tilted your head to the side. "A-Alpha! Bite!!"

Tai docked down at you for a second. Your words hit him like ice water before that heat returned; he had never been more sure of anything in his entire life. From the moment he met you, he knew you were his omega. His alpha called for you. So there was no hesitation as he snarled out of a growl before biting down on your neck, marking you as his mate. He rutted inside you like a rabid feral beast, trying to get you to cum, wanting to help you find that release that you so desperately needed.

You became nothing but jelly in his arms after that. Feeling complete as your pussy gushed around him while you were left begging him for his cum, for his pups. “Breed me!! Breed me!!” you cried out as Suguru’s knot swelled inside of you, spurting out thick ropes of cum painting your walls with his seed. "M-Mmmmhm!" he huffed out as he locked the two of you in place as he continued to fill your pussy, with his cum. He said as he kissed you deeply.

“Sugu~” you purred as toy kissed back as much as your wrecked exhausted body would allow. After that first orgasm, you were nothing but putty in his arms. "Alpha fuck.”

Suguru swallowed hard. Finally releasing his bite. His teeth were stained with crimson. But he so carefully lapped at your wound, healing it with a satisfied growl. You pulled away, offering Suguru the other side as you floated through your afterglow. It was the first time your omega had been truly satisfied. While your boyfriend blushed and nodded before biting down on the other side of your neck. Marking you as his mate.

"Wow." He said with a smile. “I always imagined how pretty You'd look with my mark, but seeing it in person is much better than any other daydream.”

“Me too, " you hummed as you cuddled close to him, purring happily as your bodies connected. I love you, Suguru."

A flood of emotions coursing through every part of Suguru's soul. He pulls away from your neck, staring at you before he grins. "I love you too, " your boyfriend whispers with a happy hum. I love you so much." He turns, offering you his neck, his unmarked sent glands almost illuminated in the low lighting of the bedroom. "I want you forever."

His actions leave you too stunned to speak. Marking each other like this, you would be with each other, mate, forever. Mates for life. So, of course, you gasped softly, your brain going fuzzy as you stared at his unclaimed neck. For once in your life, you had never been more sure of anything. There was no hesitation in your movements as you leaned in, your fangs puncturing the skin, making you purr as you lapped at the mark before moving onto his other side.

Once you marked him on the other side, you both lay there in the bed by his knot, your tails, kissing against each other as you whispered declarations of love in between quiet huma and purrs. Suguru chuffed low in his chest as he wrapped you up, tightening his body around you. This night might not have gone as planned, but it turned out to be the best fucking night of your life. The night you found your mate with whom you would spend the rest of your life.

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