#you get to know a lot more about someone's oc when that oc is in trouble or in pain or afraid

[nemoredraw]

— TIM DRAKE X OC —[ENG version] (NSFW) Trapped Among the Rubble. (TIMO ship) (not canon)

Note: Hi! Here’s the English version. The Spanish version is available on my Patreon if you’re interested.

P.S. English is not my native language, so there are probably a lot of mistakes in both the writing and translation. I just hope it was translated well enough. I didn’t even read through it completely to check if everything was correct because I know I wouldn’t understand a damn thing.

Anyway, I hope it makes some sense, and if not, at least you’ll get an idea of the dynamic between these two. If you have any suggestions, questions, or doubts, don’t be afraid to comment.

Thank you so much for reading this far!

P.S.2: I’m not a writer, so I also apologize for the bigger mistakes you’re about to see while reading.

Best regards!

Red Robin was exhausted by Nemo, tired of the same routine over and over again. Nemo caused chaos, and as always, he had to be there to clean up the mess, stop him, and try to catch him to lock him up in Arkham Asylum. But the villain was cunning and elusive, always finding a way to escape or playing his cards so skillfully that he always managed to get away. However, this time things were different. Due to one of Nemo’s bombs, both of them got trapped under large concrete blocks. The pressure of the concrete on his body was unbearable, and the air, thick with dust, made it even harder to breathe. There was no way out of there. Any attempt to move anything could be much more dangerous. The only option was to wait for someone to rescue them. Nemo was handcuffed, but Red Robin kept his eyes on him as his mind tried to come up with a plan to escape that trap.

Dust floated in the air, suspended like a dense cloud that enveloped the space and made visibility even harder. Red Robin, trapped under the concrete slab, felt the weight not only of the block but of the years of constant fighting against Nemo. It wasn’t just about facing him; it was the feeling of being stuck in an endless cycle, where he always had to stop him, and yet, he always came back. The frustration consumed him from the inside. Every minute he spent there, his exhaustion became more evident, not just physically, but emotionally. The fatigue of an endless war that seemed to have no end.

The sound of his breathing, labored and broken, broke the heavy silence. He was close to Nemo, close enough to feel his unsettling presence. Despite being seemingly immobilized, Nemo never stopped smiling with that unchanging expression, that grimace that irritated Red Robin so much. The handcuffs glinted under the dim light filtering from some distant corner, but Nemo’s calm wasn’t that of someone defeated. It was the calm of someone who knew the game wasn’t over. The game never truly ends. There was always something more, an unexpected move.

—Do you think someone will come for us?— Nemo asked, his tone almost mocking, as if he was enjoying the situation.

Red Robin didn’t answer immediately. His eyes scanned the scene, looking for any crack, any possibility of escape, or a way out of there before time ran out. But he couldn’t stop thinking about Nemo’s words. For so long, he had been waiting for his teammates to rescue him, but as time passed, the feeling that help wouldn’t arrive began to take over him.

—What have you done?— he finally replied, his voice deep and filled with doubt, although he couldn’t avoid the feeling of guilt gnawing at him. He always wondered if things could have been different. If maybe Nemo wouldn’t be a threat if he had acted sooner, if he had stopped him when he still had the chance. How many more times would he have to live this?

Nemo chuckled, a laugh that seemed to ripple through his body, fueled by the adrenaline and fun that never left him.

—You did what you could, Red Robin. But you know what they say… there’s always more at stake.—

Silence settled between them, heavy and palpable. Despite being handcuffed, despite being seemingly at Red Robin’s mercy, the hero knew that Nemo never played to lose. His unwavering gaze reflected something beyond the superficial calm; an unbreakable spark of enjoyment, the same one he always had, even in the worst situations.

Red Robin squinted, a mix of helplessness and fury flooding his being. Sometimes he had the patience to tolerate Nemo’s voice, but at that moment, with all the accumulated fatigue, the irritation was stronger. He moved closer to him, determined not to fall for his game. He wasn’t going to give him the luxury of exploding and slapping him like he wanted to, but instead, he knelt in front of him, staring closely into his eyes, while the villain remained seated, handcuffed, in a posture that only increased his air of contempt.

—Nemo… I can’t keep picking up everything you destroy. One day, this will end, and when that happens, I won’t be there to fix it. Then what will you do? Will you cry to your partners to get you out of this? Believe me… your partners wouldn’t give a penny for you.—

Nemo tilted his head slowly, his smile widening slightly, but his eyes reflected something much deeper. It wasn’t anger, not even annoyance, but that unbreakable spark of fun that never went out, as if everything was just another game for him.

—Oh, Red Robin, how naïve you are…— he whispered, stretching the words as if it were a shared secret. —You always talk as if you were indispensable. Like, without you, everything would fall apart.—

Red Robin didn’t look away. He wasn’t going to let Nemo drag him into one of his mental games. Not this time.

—It’s not about me, it’s about you,— he replied firmly. —You think everything revolves around chaos, that there will always be someone to pick up the pieces you leave behind. But one day, you’ll be left alone, trapped in one of your own traps, and then… what? Who will be there to get you out?—

Nemo tilted his head back, resting it against the concrete block surrounding him. The laugh that escaped his mouth echoed in the confined space, a sound that seemed to multiply in the darkness surrounding them.

—You know? I like seeing you like this, with that contained frustration. It makes you more human.—

Red Robin didn’t react, but his jaw tightened, marking the discomfort he felt with every word of Nemo.

—I’m not the only one who’ll get tired of this game, Nemo. Gotham gets tired. Your partners get tired. And when you’re no longer useful, when you’re trapped without a bomb, without a plan, without an escape… what will you do then?—

Nemo fell silent for a moment, as if Red Robin’s words had touched something deep within his mind. For a second, Red Robin thought he had planted a seed of doubt, that maybe the seed of uncertainty was beginning to grow. But Nemo didn’t take long to lean slightly toward him, without losing that relentless smile.

—Then… I’ll have to make sure that, when that day comes, you’ll be trapped with me.—

Red Robin, with a piercing gaze, raised his arm to show him the scene stretching around them. A scene of chaos and desolation, of irreparable consequences. A scene where they were both trapped, victims of their own actions.

—That day has arrived, Nemo, it’s closer than you think. You just have to look around.—

Red Robin’s tone was cold but filled with determination. He didn’t want to show even the slightest hint of doubt. Inside, he had already made a decision. This time, there would be no escape for Nemo.

—This time, you won’t escape, Nemo. This time, I’ll put you in prison… for your own good.—

With a quick movement, Red Robin grabbed Nemo by his clothes and pulled him toward him, shoving him in a way that Nemo could see the threat was real. The tension in the air was palpable, and although Red Robin’s words were firm, there was something in his expression that betrayed his frustration.

Nemo, showing no resistance, allowed Red Robin to pull him toward him. However, his smile didn’t disappear. His eyes slowly scanned the rubble, as if he was really seeing the ruin reflected in that landscape of destruction, as if he accepted that, in some way, this was his destiny.

—Well, Red… you almost sound like you care.— Nemo commented, his voice light, mocking, but with a hint of something else that wasn’t easy to identify.

Red Robin didn’t let himself be distracted. He kept his grip on his clothes, firm as a rock. He knew he had to stay in control, even though Nemo’s presence was becoming harder to handle.

—I don’t care about you, I care about stopping you before this kills you.— he replied coldly, without taking his eyes off him.

Nemo laughed, a low and almost imperceptible laugh, as if it were a whisper in the stillness of chaos. There was something in that laugh, something more than just mockery.

—Always so heroic… Always believing you can save everyone, even those who don’t want to be saved.—

Red Robin’s jaw tightened. That phrase, so characteristic of Nemo, always made him lose his patience, but now he couldn’t give in. Not this time.

—It’s not about what you want, Nemo. It’s about what you’ve done. And this time, there’s no escape, no bombs, no partners coming to get you. It’s just you and me, and when you get out of here, it’ll be straight to Arkham.—

A heavy silence filled the air between them. Nemo looked at him with an unsettling intensity, evaluating every word, every move. Finally, with a shrug and a sly smile, he murmured:

—If you really believed that… you wouldn’t be trying to convince me.—

Red Robin let him go with a slight shove, as if he needed to distance himself from Nemo’s unshakable attitude, from that smile that never left. But he couldn’t let that distract him. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was making sure Nemo didn’t escape, not this time.

The dust kept falling, and uncertainty lingered in the air. Maybe help would come. Maybe not. But what Red Robin knew for sure was that this time, Nemo wouldn’t get out of there like he always did. Or at least, that’s what he wanted to believe.

Suddenly, the ceiling began to shake, a crack echoed, and before he could react, something fell with force. The danger of being trapped under the rubble became real. Red Robin saw a concrete block falling directly onto Nemo, and without thinking, he lunged toward him, pushing him quickly to avoid the impact.

The blow was inevitable, but Red Robin managed to protect him, both of them getting buried even deeper under the rubble. Red Robin was over Nemo, his body shielding him from the fallen blocks while dust surrounded them.

Nemo blinked, surprised by Red Robin’s sudden action. For a moment, there were no words, only their heavy breathing, the sound of rubble settling around them, and the weight of the hero on top of him. Red Robin, although angry, had chosen to save him.

Then, that initial surprise shifted into something else. Something he couldn’t even fully define.

—Wow, Red…— Nemo murmured, his usual mocking tone, but this time, there was something more. A slight surprise in his voice. —If you wanted me this close, you could’ve just asked.—

Red Robin scoffed, barely moving to prop himself up on his forearms. His brow was furrowed, frustration evident on his face.

—Shut up, Nemo.—

But Nemo couldn’t stay quiet, not when his mind was still processing what had just happened. Red Robin had saved him. Despite everything, despite every fiber of his being probably wishing to see him behind bars, he had chosen to save him.

Nemo tilted his head slightly, making his handcuffs jingle as he moved his wrists.

—So… you’re still hell-bent on saving me, huh?—

Red Robin looked away for a moment, but it was enough for Nemo to notice.

—See?— Nemo whispered, with that sly smile of his. —It’s not just about justice. You care.—

Red Robin’s jaw tightened even more.

—I care about the lives you ruin, Nemo.—

—Mine included, it seems.— the villain replied, almost in a whisper.

The tension between them was palpable, different from all the previous times. Maybe because the space was even smaller, maybe because this time Nemo didn’t have a clear escape, or maybe because, deep down, they had always been trapped together. Only now, that trap was literal.

Nemo sighed dramatically.

—Well, Red, looks like we’re in deeper trouble. What now? Do we wait for rescue or do you keep convincing yourself that you don’t care about me?—

Red Robin tried to keep his eyes away from the man, maintaining distance even though it was impossible in such a confined space. The tension in the air was undeniable. He lowered his gaze, frustrated, towards the man who still had the power to destabilize him.

—You’re going to shut up and stay still. I don’t want to hear you anymore.— he said, gritting his teeth, unable to deny that every word from Nemo did affect him.

The atmosphere was still heavy, filled with that mutual discomfort. They were both trapped, not just under the rubble, but by their intertwined fates. No way out, no clear answers.

But Nemo wasn’t someone who knew when to let go. He tilted his head, looking at Red Robin with that intensity that made the skin crawl.

—You know?— he murmured, in a lower tone, almost… sincere. —Sometimes I wonder what you’d be without me.—

Red Robin snapped his gaze up, his eyes burning with contained fury.

—I’d be free.—

Nemo chuckled softly, but this time, there was no mockery in it. Only something more tangled in the tense air between them.

—I don’t think so.—

Red Robin didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Because, deep down, although he hated admitting it… Nemo was right.

A strange weight fell over him, as if, somehow, he had glanced at something he had always feared accepting. What would he be without the constant presence of Nemo, without the endless missions and confrontations that never seemed to end? He could live a quieter life, less frantic, less… destroyed. He could live a life less tormented by the decisions of a man he was always supposed to stop, who always overwhelmed him, who always forced him to question himself.

But what Red Robin couldn’t accept was that the absence of Nemo would mean the absence of everything he had been. His life, no matter how chaotic, seemed intertwined with that constant struggle.

Red Robin fell silent, looking away. A heavy sigh, loaded with mental exhaustion, escaped his lips. He didn’t say anything, just let the silence stretch between them, like an invisible wall that rose every time Nemo challenged him with those words.

Nemo didn’t miss a detail of Red Robin’s reaction. That pause, that silence… it was more eloquent than any biting response he could’ve given. He didn’t need words to know that he had touched something inside of him, something the hero didn’t want to face. The uncomfortable truth that, somehow, all of this was more personal than Red Robin wanted to admit.

For the first time in a long while, Nemo also fell silent. Not because he had nothing to say, but because, for some reason, he felt that breaking that moment would make it less real. And there was something in the air, something strange, that kept him there, in that suspended moment.

The air was thick, laden with dust and tension. The rubble continued to fall slowly, but what weighed more was the palpable discomfort between them. Red Robin was still over Nemo, their bodies too close, too intertwined in a mess Nemo himself had caused. Everything seemed frozen in that instant, as if nothing else could move, as if the universe had halted its course for a brief moment.

Finally, Nemo averted his gaze to nothingness, exhaling with a smile that was almost… tired.

—You don’t have to save me all the time, Red.—

It was the first time he had said something like that. No mockery, no provocation. Just a simple statement, almost resigned.

But Red Robin didn’t respond. And that silence, more than any word, left a truth hanging between them. Did he really need to save him? Why did he feel that persistent need? Doubt began to take root in his mind, but it wasn’t something he could cling to for long. The answer remained the same: if he didn’t do it, someone else would. But who? Would anyone else save him from himself?

Red Robin slightly lifted his gaze, almost as if he didn’t want to be seen. He looked at the man beneath him, this time without any signs of arrogance or superiority, something rare in Nemo. No games, no masks. Something strange was happening in that moment, and Red Robin couldn’t stop noticing it. But he refused to give it importance. He couldn’t let himself. He couldn’t give it the weight he thought it didn’t deserve. He had to stay distant, cold, even despite the physical closeness they were being forced into.

If he didn’t save him, who would? That question still lingered in his mind. And the answer remained empty.

Red Robin closed his eyes for a moment, as if doing so could push away the question that had formed in his mind. As if he could avoid the feeling that, no matter how many times he caught Nemo, how many times he put him in prison or tried to break this cycle, he would always end up back at the same point.

Because if he didn’t save him, no one else would.

He hated himself for thinking that way. Hated that, deep down, part of him felt that responsibility, as if Nemo were his problem, his burden. As if, in some twisted way, his fate was tied to his. Everything Bruce had taught him, everything Nightwing had lived with Slade… those lessons and that history still resonated in his mind. He couldn’t fall into the same trap. He couldn’t be his cross.

The cycle had to be broken.

—Stop talking nonsense.— he murmured finally, his tone lower, more opaque, as if trying to drown out that inner voice urging him to keep going.

Nemo smiled faintly, as if he knew exactly what was going through Red Robin’s mind. As if, deep down, he relished the fact that, no matter how much the hero tried to convince himself otherwise, he would always end up coming back to him.

—Whatever you say, Red.—

And, in that moment, Red Robin knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would never fully escape the shadow of Nemo.

Silence enveloped them again, but this time, it wasn’t just the echo of the rubble… it was the weight of a truth neither of them was ready to admit.

Red considered changing the subject, forgetting about it. He thought about all the ways he could shake off that uncomfortable moment, that persistent feeling that had begun to tickle his mind. He finally sighed, grabbed Nemo’s shoulders, and tried to move him to make room, but it was impossible. Everything was too tight.

—Nemo, for God’s sake, you just need to move over, you’re taking up all the space… I can’t be on top of you the whole time.—

Nemo let out a low laugh, almost like a purr of amusement, that kind of laugh only he could make, one that completely shifted the tone of the atmosphere.

—Oh, Red, I didn’t know this bothered you so much.— he murmured with that soft voice, laced with barely concealed amusement. —And here I thought you were comfortable.—

Red Robin gritted his teeth, ignoring the heat rising to his neck, feeling how discomfort took over every muscle in his body.

—Nemo, I warn you…—

—Are you going to arrest me for taking up too much space?— the villain joked, but finally moved a little, just enough to give Red Robin some maneuvering room.

Of course, he did so with exaggerated slowness, as if savoring every second of the other’s discomfort.

—Alright, alright… though I’ll admit, this had its charm.—

Red Robin rolled his eyes, feeling the frustration bubbling inside him as he finally managed to get comfortable, turning his back to Nemo. As if that would make things easier, as if simply not looking at him could help him distance himself from the tension that still lingered between them.

—Tell me you at least have a plan,— Nemo said, his usual tone but without the usual sharp mockery, as if, for once, he were showing slight concern.

Red Robin didn’t answer right away. Because the truth was, for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t sure how to get out of this. There was no easy solution, and being trapped under rubble only complicated things.

Red Robin opened the communicator on his wrist and tried to find any nearby electromagnetic signal, but due to the collapse, there was none left. Frustrated, he looked around. Nothing.

Nemo, amused by the situation, got closer to his back, sliding his hand along the fabric of the cape, pulling it slightly. Red Robin turned his head slightly, gritting his teeth and frowning. What was he doing now? Was he playing with him again?

—What the hell are you doing?— Red Robin spat, barely turning his face to shoot him a hard look.

But Nemo just smiled, unhurried, enjoying the situation far too much.

—Relax, Red. I’m just killing time…— he murmured, giving the cape an extra tug, as if the texture fascinated him. —Besides, I’ve always wanted to see how durable this is.—

Red Robin took a deep breath, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine from the contact. It wasn’t so much the gesture itself, but how unnecessary it was.

—Let go. Now.—

—You have to admit, this is an… interesting situation.— Nemo continued, ignoring the warning. —How many times have we been like this? Trapped. Locked in. Together.—

Red Robin furrowed his brow even more.

—This is the first time we’ve been buried under rubble, if that’s what you’re referring to.—

—I’m not talking about the rubble, Red.—

That response made him clench his fists. Because he knew what Nemo was implying, he knew he wasn’t just talking about the collapse, but the cycle they’d been trapped in for so long. The endless cycle, where they found themselves caught, with moments of tension and provocations that always kept them together, even in a twisted way.

Red Robin closed his eyes for a moment, trying to calm the weight in his chest.

—If you really want to do something useful, help me find a way out, instead of… this.—

—Oh, but Red…— Nemo leaned in a bit more, his breath brushing the back of the hero’s neck. —This is much more fun.—

Red Robin felt a sharper cramp run from his neck down his back. His body went stiff, and he didn’t let Nemo see the reaction, but the silence said more than words. Red Robin turned, almost exhausted from the situation, and grabbed Nemo by the hair, pulling him back forcefully.

—I’m warning you, Nemo, I’m not playing.— He said, gritting his teeth.

Nemo let out a stuttered gasp, more from surprise than pain. His smile curved slowly, as if the hair tug wasn’t a warning, but an encouragement to push further.

—Oh, Red…— he murmured, his voice rough from the position he was trapped in. —That’s what I like most about you.—

Red Robin stared at him with contained fury, his fingers still tangled in Nemo’s hair. He didn’t want to give him more room to play, didn’t want to fall into his rhythm, but everything about him was designed to provoke him.

—Don’t tempt me.— he warned, his voice lower, more gravelly.

But Nemo just laughed, leaning as much as he could with his head still trapped between Red Robin’s fingers.

—What if I do? Are you going to stop me? Or will you just keep… reacting?—

That last word was loaded with meaning. And the worst part was that he was right. Red Robin was reacting. He was responding, instead of ignoring him, instead of keeping a cool head. And that only gave Nemo more power.

With a frustrated grunt, Red Robin released him abruptly, pushing him slightly to create some distance. He moved as far as the limited space allowed, taking a deep breath to calm the tension in his body.

—You know, Red.— Nemo said lightly, massaging his scalp where he’d grabbed it. —If you keep touching me like that, it’s going to be hard for me to believe you don’t want to play.—

Red Robin didn’t respond. He couldn’t. Deep down, he hated how much Nemo enjoyed all of this. And what was worse… he hated how much he was starting to feel it too. The weight of the tension, that uncomfortable feeling, was growing, and he couldn’t deny it.

Red Robin tightened his gaze on Nemo, a fire inside him that only wanted to extinguish itself somehow. What the hell was he playing at now? With unrelenting seriousness, he responded.

—I don’t recommend you push it, Nemo, or I’ll add sexual harassment to your penitentiary report.—

Nemo blinked a couple of times, but it wasn’t long before his low, deep laugh filled the small space they were trapped in, like a distant echo that only heightened the discomfort of the situation.

—Well, Red…— he murmured with genuine amusement. —I didn’t know you had such a sharp sense of humor.—

Red Robin didn’t smile. His face remained impassive, his gaze fixed on Nemo, as if trying to pierce him with it. He wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of any reaction beyond his warning. But Nemo, as always, enjoyed controlling the situation.

—You know what’s the best part?— he continued, with that playful smile that only heightened the tension. —That for that to have weight in my report, you’d have to admit you felt something.—

Red Robin narrowed his eyes, a mix of fury and exhaustion on his face.

—No. I just have to make note that you’re a damn nuisance.—

—Oh, Red, everyone already knows that. But what no one knows is how much this ‘nuisance’ affects you.—

Silence fell again between them, but this time Red Robin didn’t stay waiting for the next provocation. His voice became firm, almost like a mantra to calm himself.

—I’m getting us out of here.—

His tone was unwavering, as if trying to convince himself that this was the only thing that mattered. He ignored the laughter still vibrating in his ear, the persistent heat on his skin, and the discomfort of being so close to Nemo. He turned and began to search the rubble again, analyzing every crack, looking for an exit, any way to escape.

But he couldn’t avoid hearing the quiet whisper that came from behind him.

—Too bad… I could stay a little longer.—

Red Robin clenched his teeth tightly, feeling the frustration build in his chest.

—Typical… once we’re out of here, I plan to lock you up again.—

He said with a firm, annoyed tone as he groped every wall around, trying to find the weakest one.

Nemo, as usual, didn’t stop. His only mission at that moment was to provoke him. See how he’d react. And he liked what he saw.

He tilted his head, watching every movement Red Robin made with that sharp gleam in his eyes, like a predator stalking its prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

—Wow, Red…— he murmured with fake disappointment. —You say that like it’s the last time you’ll try.—

Red Robin ignored his tone, focusing on his task. But Nemo wasn’t going to let him off that easy.

—You know?— he continued, with a thoughtful air that only increased the tension. —Sometimes I wonder… what will you do when you actually succeed? When they finally lock me up in Arkham and I can’t get out.—

Red Robin kept feeling around the weakest wall, but his jaw tightened when he heard Nemo’s words.

—I’ll have one less thing to worry about in my life.—

Nemo leaned a bit, his voice sliding smoothly, so close to Red Robin that he could almost feel the warmth of his breath.

—Is that what you think?— he said with a twisted smile, brushing the limits of provocation. —Or will you feel like you’re missing something?—

Red Robin stopped for a second, just a brief flicker of doubt before he went back to work. He didn’t acknowledge it, didn’t want to acknowledge it. But the truth was, Nemo was right. Part of him knew there would always be something more, something that kept him trapped in this endless cycle.

Nemo smiled. And it wasn’t a kind smile. It was that twisted smile he knew Red Robin couldn’t ignore.

—Because, let’s be honest, Red… if I weren’t here, what would you do with all the time you spend on me?—

Red Robin slammed the rubble harder than necessary, his breath more ragged from frustration than physical effort, not daring to look at him. His body tense, charged with contained energy that only increased the tension in the air.

—Anyone would think you’re the obsessed one.—

Nemo let out a low, vibrating laugh, like an electric current running between them, his presence expanding. He leaned in even more, bringing his lips dangerously close to Red Robin’s ear, his warm breath brushing his skin with an invisible caress.

—Oh, but if I’m obsessed…— he whispered, his voice a dangerous melody, —what does that say about you?—

Red Robin closed his eyes for a brief moment, feeling the tension build in his chest. He inhaled deeply, trying to calm himself, but the growing discomfort made him burn inside. He wasn’t going to fall into his game. Not this time.

With a huff, he used his strength to strike the wall he’d identified as the weakest, making some rubble give way with a loud crash.

—It says I’m getting out of here. With you or without you.—

Nemo smiled, that cold satisfaction on his face, as if he already knew what was going through Red Robin’s mind. Because deep down, he knew him too well. He knew that no matter how much Red Robin denied it… he would never leave him behind.

With an unexpected move, Nemo stretched out his handcuffed arms and pulled on Red Robin’s wrist, stopping him with a strength that surprised him. It wasn’t the moment to escape, not for Nemo. He wanted this agony to last longer, for Red Robin to feel trapped in his own helplessness.

In the blink of an eye, Nemo positioned himself over Red Robin, the weight of his body pinning the hero to the floor, while his handcuffed hands kept him immobilized. Red Robin, who hadn’t had time to react, found himself with his back on the ground, breathing heavily, not just from the physical effort, but from the surprise that the villain’s speed had generated.

—What the hell do you think you’re doing? —Red Robin spat, his voice cracking with fury, but also with an unease that filtered through his words.

Nemo grinned widely, enjoying the control, the power he had over Red Robin at that moment. He leaned in slightly, bringing his face close to the hero’s, making their lips dangerously near his ear.

—Just making sure you don’t ruin the fun too quickly.

Red Robin struggled, his body tensing, but the cramped space and the uncomfortable position of having Nemo on top of him kept him trapped, unable to move without shifting the debris around them.

—This isn’t a game, Nemo.

—Isn’t it? —the villain whispered, his gaze dripping with intensity, a dangerous spark ignited in his eyes—. Because to me, it seems like we’ve been playing the same one for years.

The tension between them grew until it became palpable, like a taut rope about to snap. Red Robin could hear his own pulse pounding in his ears, the frantic rhythm of his breathing. Not just from the rage consuming him, but from something deeper, something he didn’t want to accept or allow.

With a swift movement, he used the minimal mobility he had left and twisted his body, reversing their positions. Now he had Nemo trapped beneath him, his hands firmly on the villain’s shoulders, his fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, his gaze fixed on Nemo’s eyes, burning with contained fury.

—If you keep testing my patience, you’ll see what happens when I really snap.

Nemo let out a chuckle, amused despite being trapped.

—Oh, Red… that’s exactly what I want to see.

Red Robin’s body tensed even more, his jaw clenched so hard it hurt. To Nemo, everything was a game, a dirty game to destabilize him, to push him to his limit. And that irritated him. With silent fury, Red Robin grabbed Nemo’s face, his fingers squeezing the villain’s jaw with such force that he could barely move. He wanted him to look at him, to feel the weight of his warning.

—What exactly do you want to see, huh? Say it, Nemo, because this situation is just pissing me off more and more.

Nemo let out a sharp gasp, not from pain, but from the strength with which Red Robin held him. His irregular breathing, the darkening gleam in his eyes, turned into something more dangerous than just a provocation. There was something in his gaze that had nothing to do with their usual game.

—That. —His voice slid into a whisper, heavy with something indecipherable, a silent desire—. That.

Red Robin clenched his jaw tighter, his fingers still dug into Nemo’s skin. The tension amplified, the atmosphere thick, almost suffocating. He couldn’t pull away. He didn’t want to pull away.

—Stop speaking in riddles and say it already.

Nemo narrowed his eyes, his smile crooked, like a bold provocation. He knew he was touching Red Robin’s weak point.

—I want to see you lose control.

The silence that followed was brutal. Heavy. Like a bomb about to explode.

Red Robin felt the rage burning in his throat, but the worst part was that it wasn’t just anger. There was something deeper, something he didn’t want to admit or unleash. Something that terrified him. Nemo knew. He saw it in every tense movement of his body, in every labored breath.

—It’s not going to happen —Red Robin growled, but his grip didn’t loosen.

Nemo smiled wider, as if that same frustrated growl was exactly what he had been waiting for.

—It’s already happening.

And the worst part was that, for the first time, Red Robin wasn’t so sure whether he wanted to stop it.

Red Robin fixed his gaze on Nemo’s, sliding his thumb over the villain’s lip, pressing lightly there while his other fingers remained dug into his face. His face remained impassive, but his body was tense, like a taut rope about to snap. He didn’t say anything, just watched him with that cold intensity that sometimes defined him, holding back, trying not to give in.

Nemo parted his lips, not out of discomfort, but because of the intensity of the touch. His gaze was fixed on Red Robin’s eyes, defiant, not looking away or retreating.

And then, slowly, calculated, he barely extended his tongue, shamelessly brushing against Red Robin’s thumb.

It wasn’t an accidental gesture. It was intentional. A silent challenge. A provocation loaded with something deeper than a simple taunt.

Red Robin felt a shiver run down his spine, but he didn’t withdraw his hand. Not yet. His grip tightened a little more, his breath heavier, and his body restless, as if he wanted to take control of something slipping away from him.

Nemo smiled against his skin, with dark satisfaction, relishing the contained reaction he could feel vibrating through the hero’s body.

—Come on, Red… —he murmured, his voice rough, like a soft poison seeping into his mind—. Let go of control.

The tension between them reached an unbearable point. Like a rope on the verge of snapping. Like fire threatening to consume everything.

Red Robin softened his gaze, but he didn’t look away from Nemo. Despite the coldness in his eyes, his breathing was still erratic, out of control, as if he couldn’t contain the intensity of what he felt. He tried to remain calm, but there was something in Nemo’s touch, something in his gaze, that made him question whether he really wanted to end it all.

Nemo let out a broken sigh, his lips parting further around Red Robin’s thumb. His tongue slowly grazed the fabric of the glove, as if savoring the moment. As if enjoying the contained reaction he could feel vibrating through Red Robin’s body.

His gaze didn’t leave Red Robin’s. There was something dark and twistedly satisfied in those eyes, something that had nothing to do with the usual game. This time, it wasn’t just about irritating him. It wasn’t just about pushing him.

It was because he wanted to see him break.

Red Robin clenched his jaw. He knew he should pull away, let go, stop it before they crossed a line he couldn’t uncross. But his hand didn’t move. His breathing was still erratic, his eyes fixed on Nemo’s with an intensity that had nothing to do with anger.

It was something else.

Nemo smiled around his thumb, his tongue sliding over it with a slow, almost sensual touch, before releasing it with a soft pop.

—Well, Red… —he whispered, his voice rough and laden with poison—. I think I almost got you.

But Red Robin didn’t move. Not this time.

With relentless determination, he slid his hand from Nemo’s face to his neck, gripping it firmly, not with violence, but with a possessiveness that was all danger.

—Do you think this is a game? —he murmured, his voice low, hoarse, and dangerous.

Nemo let out a laugh, though it sounded somewhat erratic, more real than he intended.

—You tell me, Red… —he leaned in a little closer, the challenge in his eyes setting the air on fire—. Who’s playing now?

Red Robin tightened his grip on Nemo’s neck, knowing exactly where to apply pressure. He wasn’t taking away his air, but he was stealing something far more crucial: control.

Nemo’s back arched under Red Robin’s weight, but there was no resistance. Only a broken laugh when the hero’s fingers returned to rest on his lips, this time with more intent, more force, as if he wanted to silence him forever.

Nemo didn’t hesitate to capture Red Robin’s fingers with his tongue, his gesture hot and wet, a shameless provocation, almost mocking. His eyes never left Red Robin’s, intense, dark, as if challenging every move and, at the same time, enjoying the submission he provoked without lifting a finger.

Red Robin felt a shiver run through his body, but he didn’t move his hand. Not this time. He kept his gaze fixed, his breath still heavy, and tightened his grip on Nemo’s jaw, feeling the warmth of his mouth around his fingers, as the villain’s tongue wrapped around them with a dangerous naturalness.

Nemo let out a low sound, somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, as if the situation was beyond his control but, at the same time, completely under his will.

Who’s playing now?

The question hung between them, burning with force, but Red Robin had no intention of answering. He just tightened his grip, diving deeper into the game, showing Nemo that if this was going to be a challenge, he would play by his own rules.

The warmth of Nemo’s saliva on his fingers enveloped him, a tempting touch, a caress that made him lose some of his sanity. Every fiber of his being urged him to pull back, to take control of the situation, but his body responded to something more than logic.

The atmosphere between them grew thicker, charged with palpable tension, as if the space around them was compressing, pressing toward a point of no return. Red Robin felt his control begin to crumble, his composure slipping away with every provocative glance from Nemo, with every defiant touch he made in response.

Nemo knew exactly how to push Red Robin to the limit, how to destabilize him with every gesture, every glance.

—Come on, Red… —he whispered, his voice raspy, like an invitation, like a provocation—. Don’t hold back so much. What’s the worst that can happen?

Red Robin didn’t respond, but his breathing grew heavier, a conscious effort to remain in control, even though what he really wanted was to step away from that fine line between control and chaos. But he couldn’t. Something inside him kept him there, trapped in this game he couldn’t escape.

His thumb moved slowly over Nemo’s tongue, a subtle gesture, but one that made everything feel even more dangerous. Every part of him screamed to pull away, to stop, but deep inside, something held him there, something that kept him firmly in that moment, unable to take a step back.

The tension reached such an extreme point that any movement, any breath, seemed to have the power to bring everything crashing down.

Red Robin caught Nemo’s tongue, tightening his fingers with more force, and the sound that came from Nemo’s throat destabilized Robin even more than he already was. He brought his face closer to his, and with a defiant gesture, he pulled Nemo’s tongue from his mouth, licking it possessively as he tightened his grip on his neck, making it clear who was in charge at that moment.

Nemo’s muffled sigh echoed in the air, a sound that seemed to cut the tension between them, but at the same time, it intensified it in a dangerous way. Red Robin felt a shiver run down his spine. The brush of their tongues was a dark and twisted act, a gesture charged with electricity and challenge, both verbal and physical. The pressure on Nemo’s neck wasn’t about the desire to dominate him, but something more primitive, visceral, that Red Robin didn’t want to acknowledge.

Nemo didn’t pull away. He didn’t retreat. On the contrary, he let out a low laugh, almost mocking, despite the pain he felt in both his tongue and his neck.

Red Robin couldn’t pull away. The intensity of the moment kept him there, feeling how the power struggle they shared was woven in a tense silence, filled with something much darker than what he was willing to face.

But he couldn’t let go.

The rational part of him fought against the visceral one, the one pushing him beyond his own limits, daring him to go further.

“Shut up, or I’ll make sure you don’t leave here in one piece.” His voice was rough, filled with rage, as if crossing that line was something he had been trying to avoid for far too long.

With Nemo’s neck still between his fingers, Robin leaned toward him again, their teeth clashing with fury as he devoured his mouth desperately, frustrated but also needing that primal contact.

The air between them grew thick, almost suffocating. Red Robin’s rage was like an overflowing torrent, and Nemo knew it. He could feel the tension in every muscle of his opponent, the restrained anger that was now spilling over, the real threat in his words. But that didn’t stop him.

When Red Robin moved closer, fury and desire fused in such a way that neither of them could stop it. Their teeth clashed again, and then, the brutality of their mouths joined in a wild kiss, like a storm that left nothing untouched. Nemo responded instantly, with the same energy, letting himself be carried away by the fury of the moment, without brakes, without reservations.

The friction of their bodies, the heat of their breaths, was all that remained between them. Red Robin’s fingers tightened around Nemo’s neck, while his other hand grasped him desperately, as if by touching him, he could free himself from the frustration that had built up over the years.

Nemo, for his part, didn’t seem to be trying to stop him. On the contrary, his hands rose, and along with his cuffs, they slid down Red Robin’s chest, pulling his body closer, as if he enjoyed that sensation, that ever-blurring line between violence and something more.

—This is what you want, isn’t it? —murmured Nemo between kisses, his voice low and defiant—. What you’ve been avoiding all this time?

Red Robin didn’t respond. His mind was clouded, his thoughts dissolving between rage, desire, and confusion. Every touch, every brush, pushed him further than he thought he could control. But there was no going back.

Nemo smiled, still caught in the kiss, as if chaos was completely on his side.

When Robin brought his finger back to Nemo’s mouth, seeking that contact once again, his mind was on the edge, crumbling between what he desired and what he knew he shouldn’t. But Nemo, as always, dragged him further than reason would allow. With the same provocation, with the same shameless acceptance, he received it, as if he had been waiting for that response.

Robin’s hand slid into his hair, gripping it tightly but with an unsettling softness, as if he enjoyed seeing Nemo in that state.

Red Robin’s voice came out hoarse, filled with everything that was happening.

—No, Nemo… —he whispered, his breath heavy, his words full of frustration, rage, and desire—. This is what you wanted.

Nemo smiled against the fabric of his glove, his eyes gleaming with dangerous satisfaction, as if everything was part of a plan only he understood. His tongue slid across it with a destructive calm.

The atmosphere, charged with dangerous electricity, seemed about to explode at any moment. They were both trapped in something they could no longer control, something they could no longer define.

With a voice almost choked and frustration between his teeth, Robin spoke:

—Would you?

Nemo looked up at him, puzzled. Robin pulled her finger out of her mouth brushing her lower lip and rubbing both their bodies together, looking to feel that friction. His body feeling that tension getting tighter and tighter in his body, about to give in to what was happening.With his voice cracking he asked again.

— Would you use your mouth?

The atmosphere was becoming even denser, charged with a desire that could not be undone, a tension that tightened the air around them. Red Robin's words floated in the space between them, almost like an invitation to chaos. The question was loaded, a direct challenge to everything they had both vowed to avoid.

Nemo, with his fierce gaze and a crooked smirk, watched Red Robin in silence, as if assessing not only his words, but every movement, every gesture on his body. His expression remained serene, but his eyes shone with the same spark as always, as if he had been waiting for that moment, that surrender, however momentary.

—That depends…— he murmured softly, almost as a whisper, savoring the power of every word, every reaction he got from Robin. The question had not only surprised him, but had also pushed him further into the game, beyond any limits they had both set for themselves.

Robin could feel the friction between their bodies increasing, what should have been a simple touch becoming something deeper, something that burned him inside. The helplessness of not being able to take complete control of the situation turned his stomach, but it kept him there, trapped. His body kept responding, his mind overflowing with every thought he didn't want to let grow.

Nemo, in an unexpected move, slid a hand down Robin's torso, stroking with deliberation, as if drawing a line that was not to be crossed, but still, inviting him to follow.

—If I did... what would you do, Robin? —he asked, almost with an innocent tone, but his eyes reflected something darker, something that didn't require an answer to understand.

Robin's heavy laughter mingled with their halting breaths, with the unbearable heat of that small space where there was no turning back now. His grip on Nemo's hair intensified, his voice husky and charged with something even he couldn't fully define.

Robin could feel that bold hand sliding down his back, pulling him further into his body.

— Keep your mouth busy.— Robin tugged lightly on Nemo's hair, showing him a bit of that intention he would have with him.

Nemo let Robin dominate him at that moment, his head tilted back by the force of his hand, his neck exposed, vulnerable yet defiant. His dark eyes watched him with a spark of dangerous satisfaction, as if he was enjoying having pushed Red Robin to that point of no return.

—Oh, Red…— she murmured in a breathy voice, a crooked smile curving her lips. If you think you can teach me a lesson, then I wish you luck.

The movement of their bodies was minimal, but the friction spoke volumes. Robin could feel the pressure on every part of him, the way Nemo's body molded to his, as if mocking his need for control.

—And if you're going to give me a job…— continued Nemo, his voice low, almost a whisper against his ear. You better be sure you can handle what you're asking.

Robin tightened his grip on Nemo's hair, drawing so close that there was barely any air left between them. His gaze was sharp, charged with fury and something darker, something he couldn't name.

—I can always handle it, Nemo.— he whispered fiercely. The question is whether you can.

Robin slid his face down Nemo's neck, breathing heavily against his skin, the atmosphere was unbearably thick, every touch, every movement, sinking them both deeper into something they couldn't even name. Robin breathed against Nemo's skin, soaking in his essence, letting desire, rage and need mingle in his mind until he didn't know which one dominated more. She thought of nothing else but biting him, leaving the mark that he had passed by. He was still holding her hair tightly leaving her neck exposed for him. Red made a firmer hip movement, to make it clear who was taking control of the situation. —Nemo… —He whispered her name in a loaded voice, against her neck, almost desperate to sink his teeth in there. —Are you going to be a good boy this time?

When he bit into her neck, he did it with the intention of leaving a mark, of making sure Nemo would feel that even after they were out of there. The tug on his hair only intensified the sensation, exposing him even more to her dominance.

The firm movement of her hips against Nemo's caused a sigh to escape Nemo's lips, but his attitude did not change. Despite being under Robin's control at that moment, she still maintained that defiant air, that way of looking at him that said she was enjoying it more than she should.

When Robin whispered her name against his neck, the tension peaked. The question hovered in the air between them, charged with anticipation.

Nemo smiled, that damned smile of his that never quite disappeared, even at times like that.

—A good boy? —He repeated in a low, dragging voice, letting the warmth of his breath collide against Robin's skin. — For you?

Robin felt Nemo move slightly under him, not to resist, but to challenge him even more. Her body arched just a little, pressing herself more against him, as if to gauge how far she could push him.

—I don't know, Red.— Nemo continued in his teasing tone. — It depends on how you convince me.

It was a challenge. One more provocation. As usual.

But this time, Robin was no longer in a position to ignore him.

Red Robin released his hair and put one of his hands under the man's jacket, starting to unbutton his shirt, something difficult at that moment when one had no patience to go from button to button, so he gave a tug breaking several of his buttons and then put his hand there and started to feel his skin. What started out as a game, one more provocation in their endless tug-of-war, had long since ceased to be. Robin felt his own barriers crumble with every touch, with every restrained gasp that escaped his throat without permission. Nemo had always known how to push him over the edge, but this time it wasn't just sharp words or challenges cloaked in smiles. This time it was real.

The sound of buttons popping under the force of his hand echoed in the cramped space, followed by the warmth of his palm exploring Nemo's bare skin, feeling the shudder of his breath, the slight shudder that ran through his body as his fingers slid over him. It was warm. Tempting.

Robin's lips found the exposed skin of his neck, devouring, biting, licking, sucking, leaving marks that he knew would not easily disappear. It was silent proof that he had been there, that, for once, Nemo was not in complete control. His mouth traveled to her ear, his hot breath crashing against it as he held back the rush of sensations that washed over him.

But Nemo, even in that situation, was not giving up so easily. His breathing was ragged, yes, but his sly smile still lingered, barely perceptible in the gloom.

—Wow, Red…— his voice sounded hoarse, cracked, but still tinged with that teasing tone that drove him crazy.— If you wanted to undress me, all you had to do was ask.

Robin clenched his jaw, his hand sliding harder over her skin, his fingers digging in firmly as a warning.

—Shut up.

And this time, it wasn't an empty threat.

His arm around his hunched back, holding Nemo close to him, his other hand on his thigh, sliding dangerously making Nemo tremble and hold back less.

What began as a struggle had become darker, deeper, more inevitable. Robin was no longer thinking about the consequences, or what it meant outside that confined space. He just felt. And that feeling burned him, made him lose himself more in every movement, in every choked gasp he tore from Nemo's lips.

His tongue ran along the warm, exposed skin of his chest, leaving a wet trail before closing his teeth over the most sensitive spot, wrenching an involuntary shudder from him. Robin felt it in her arched back, in the way her body reacted to his every touch. Her grip intensified, her arm clutching him tighter, as if she wanted to make sure Nemo wouldn't escape this...that neither of them would.

Her other hand slid with calculated slowness, descending on his thigh, intent on teasing, on wrenching away the control he so loved to pretend he had. And when her fingers pressed there, firm, Nemo tensed beneath him, his body betraying him with a reaction that said more than any words.

They both lost control, crossed that line that, they knew, they would eventually regret. The man unbuckled Nemo's belt with freezing speed, with a defiant look on his face and a nasal laugh at seeing Nemo like that. He grabbed him by the handcuffs, yanked him down and placed him face down in the cramped space. Robin held the man's neck, lifting his face slightly as he tried to lift his hips to help him pull down his pants with the same energy and desperation to calm the heat that overflowed from every part of both their bodies. With his teeth Robin undid his glove, slid his hand slowly over his underwear,feeling every crease, every throbbing in the area. He dared to whisper close to her ear.

— Nemo... Now no one is going to come and save you.

Nemo felt a shiver run down his back, yet in response he let out a weak laugh at the grip on his neck, soon his whole body trembled, preventing him from continuing with that defiant tone. Robin was slipping a hand under the fabric, little by little.

Nemo wanted to turn around, he needed to see it, but as soon as Red realized his intention, he pressed his neck again and landed on his body to prevent him from doing so.

— If we are going to do this, it will be under my conditions, Nemo... I don't want to hear you, I don't want to see you, I don't even want to feel your breathing.— replied the man in response to his attempts. Robin, between his fingers, grabbed Nemo's fabric and pulled it down, leaving his skin exposed. After exerting a final pressure on his neck as a warning, Robin hurried to position herself on top of him, blocking him with the weight of her legs. With almost shattering patience, Red unbuckled his tool belt watching the scene of Nemo beneath him, his hands cuffed and his breathing slightly labored. Nemo despite the situation just kept silent, something quite rare for the man, letting his opposite control the situation.

Nemo leaning on his forearms dipped his head down, letting his hair fall over his face, enjoying Robin's presence above him, reveling in the sound of the belt opening and setting it aside, away from the scene. The man sketched one last smile until he felt Robin drop a warm trickle of saliva over a sensitive area. Nemo tensed slightly, expectant of his next move. Robin's fingers moved over that area, letting the saliva take center stage, wrapped an arm around his torso and pressed against his back. Robin massaged there with clear intent, until she felt that one area was not as usual as it should be. A sly smile crept across the man's face, leaning slightly toward his ear.

Nemo let out a stifled sigh, as he gave a half-smile at the sensation of the fingers in that area.

—Yes... you can choose... isn't it wonderful?— he said with a hint of sarcasm and amusement.

Robin narrowed his eyes, observing Nemo's defiant attitude, which never seemed to budge even in this situation. Robin with his sturdy hand grabbed Nemo's head and forced downward, leaving his face on the floor, his cheek rubbing intensely there. His two fingers pushed into his main entrance, giving him no respite to react to anything, and as he did so, his fingertips searched for that rough part inside, a slightly more swollen one, one that he knew if he found it would not give him respite a second longer. Robin massaged there with just enough force and the tranquility of doing a job he seemed to know perfectly well, his fingertips downward as he felt Nemo's legs tense and tremble slightly with each touch he made to the area.

He knew he was rubbing the right area, because Nemo didn't respond, just breathing heavily as his hands clutched the ground lifting his hips slightly, seeking more of that contact. Red released his head, amused, this time his hand came to rest on Nemo's lower back and pushed down, causing the area to tighten further, still with his fingers inside. That only caused the man to let out a groan as he felt the intensity with which his insides were being squeezed. Red let out a heavy sigh after that, one that let it show how desperate he felt to use that area. He withdrew his fingers from there, impregnating his entrance with the residual essence.

Nemo was breathing agitated, wanting more of that contact and her touches. Robin took it upon herself to let him know that this moment wasn't going to take much longer, firmly something other than her fingers moved in, sliding into the area almost as a bodily reflex. Instantly, as if Robin already knew Nemo's body, he found a way to break through, entering with a sudden lunge. Nemo's body jumped, startled by the sensation and his strength. Robin on top of Nemo's body, his hands holding his waist so he wouldn't escape from him, he didn't decide to move yet, he wanted to feel how this enveloped him, how he clenched at his touch and how warm he was in there. Robin sighed in pleasure, as he tried to push himself in further, to feel how he could envelop him all the way. Nemo trembled as his hips jerked forward from the inertia, but Robin wouldn't let him escape, his body following him and clinging to him by squeezing his waist and pulling him in.

—Where are you going…— Robin said in a voice heavy and almost hoarse with pleasure. —We've just started…— After that he began to move slowly, letting every fold rub against him. Nemo stifled his moans as his forearms clung to the floor.

Robin soon lifted Nemo's hips, positioned himself in an easier position to pick up the pace and continued to lunge against his body as he panted on his back slightly bent towards him. The contact of their two skins felt like a burning fire that wouldn't cease, it only fanned more and more. Robin needed much more than that, he felt his as body tensed with each thrust, as Nemo shuddered with each movement and shrank beneath him.

—Very good... very good… — Red said without any control over what was coming out of his mouth, moving him with more inertia, raising the intensity of his breaths.

Nemo let out a whimper, a breathy one, as if he was restraining himself from raising his voice too much, or perhaps from showing how much he was enjoying the situation. Robin looked up weakly, consumed by the pleasure of each movement, watching Nemo hidden in his arms, between choked moans and shudders. The boy's back strained in front of him and his hips lifted with each intense contact.

Red enjoyed that view, but it was not enough, he wanted to see Nemo devastated, destroyed.

—Come on Nemo... you can do better,— he said with a mocking tone, grabbing him by the arm to slightly reposition his back. Nemo let out a gasp at the contact, he let himself be done with a heavy head, he felt he couldn't think clearly at that moment.

Robin gave a slightly mischievous grin at the sight of him like that, deciding to turn him over, lay him on his back and finish what he had started. With some difficulty, because of the confined space, he managed to turn him violently, positioned himself on top of him again and soon plunged back inside him, continuing with the same intensity as before. Nemo only spread his legs wider for him, causing Robin to lift his hips with both hands over that area.

He reflexively grabbed his hair in pleasure, his legs spread wide for Robin as he moved greedily and impatiently over Nemo. Robin had no qualms about watching the scene, while Nemo dodged his gaze, something that unnerved his opponent. He soon grabbed her face firmly to expose it to his eyes.

—What's the matter, are you embarrassed now?—

Robin didn't let go of his face, but rather exerted more pressure there, letting Nemo's tense eyes hold his gaze. Soon those eyes relaxed, narrowed in pleasure as his mouth opened slightly to release noises.

—R-Robin…— A breathy voice came from his wet lips, a spark that fanned the man's sensation against his body. He opened his eyes a little wider, as if he didn't want to miss any of it, expectantly. Nemo tensed a lot more, more cramping through his body. That's when one of Nemo's hands landed on Red's forearm, digging his fingers into the skin. Nemo jumped with each lunge, as if his body wanted to escape that inevitable end. As his eyes were lost in the nothingness, for a second he stopped letting out noises through his mouth. Robin didn't stop, she rammed him with the urgency to reach him, to do it at the same time as him, she knew that Nemo was melting between her hands and she couldn't stay behind, she didn't want to.

—Are you going to cum? Are you going to cum just because I'm doing this to you?— Robin said with a hint of defiance and provocation, even though he was about to get it too. — Afh... Nemo... where do you want me to do it...? — Nemo couldn't answer, his mouth opened wider as his spine arched back up again, but this time louder, more breathy. —Nemo... Nemo…— Robin said in a thicker, tighter voice. — I'm going to do it inside... I'm going to… — Nemo's eyes widened, his body arched instinctively, shaken by a wave of ecstasy that flashed across his skin like lightning. A pleasurable shudder took hold of his hips, ascending in electrifying spirals up his spine, leaving him breathless. Robin at the sight of it let out a moan of pleasure, almost frustrated, exasperated and vulnerable, he couldn't take any more than that, Red followed it by giving his body one last jolt, feeling his body react instinctively to the pleasure, teetering dangerously on the edge of that precipice, where desire and surrender intertwined in a single unbridled heartbeat.

Red Robin collapsed onto Nemo, his body still trembling from the intensity of that explosion of sensations. The air was thick, loaded with everything that had just happened between them. Robin could still feel the residual spasms running through his body, his chest rising and falling with difficulty as he tried to catch his breath. His forehead rested against Nemo’s shoulder, feeling the accelerated heartbeat beneath him, that pulse mirroring exactly how he felt himself.

For a moment, there was only silence. Neither of them moved. Neither of them spoke. As if saying something would break the fragile balance they were in now. As if admitting what they had just done would make it real, irreversible.

Robin closed his eyes for a moment, his mind dazed by the wave of sensations and thoughts swirling in his head. He couldn’t afford to think too much about it. Not now.

Finally, with a heavy sigh, he placed one hand on the ground to sit up slightly, but without fully pulling away. His eyes met Nemo’s, who was looking at him with that same mixture of exhaustion, satisfaction, and something else… something Robin wasn’t sure he wanted to decipher at that moment.

He said nothing. There was nothing to say.

Only one certainty remained, deep and dangerous: what had happened between them wouldn’t stay buried beneath those ruins.

Robin swallowed hard when he saw Nemo, when he felt that gaze upon him. He sighed and averted his eyes slightly as he raised a hand to his head, stroking it almost as if rewarding him for behaving… well?

Robin swallowed again when he saw Nemo, trapped in the intensity of that fixed gaze on him. A sigh escaped his lips as he barely looked away, as if he needed a break from everything that moment implied. Without thinking too much, he placed a hand on Nemo’s head, caressing it with unexpected gentleness, almost as if rewarding him for having… behaved well?

—Not bad, Nemo… Now stay like that, calm and… quiet.— Robin’s voice sounded rough, accompanied by an uncomfortable cough, as if he didn’t quite know how to handle what had just occurred.

Nemo raised an eyebrow, still recovering, his body lightly vibrating with the echoes of pleasure. He propped himself up with his arms on the ground and leaned toward Robin, letting out a low, breathless laugh. His smile, crooked and provocative as always, hid something else in his eyes… something softer. Exhaustion? Satisfaction? Maybe both. But there he was again, the same old Nemo, mocking, defiant, as if nothing could truly break him.

—Well, Red… If I had known that’s how you reward good behavior, maybe I would have behaved better from the start.

Robin clenched his jaw, his gaze avoiding Nemo, but his hands still remained on him, though now without applying pressure. His skin burned under his touch, as if the mere closeness was a constant reminder of what they had just done. He didn’t know how to respond, didn’t even know how to process it. His mind was in absolute chaos, a whirlwind of contradictory impulses. His whole body screamed that this had been a mistake, an unforgivable one. But his fingers, unable to pull away, told a different story.

Silence stretched between them, heavy and dense, until Robin, with his face still flushed, gathered enough willpower to regain some control.

—Don’t get confused, Nemo. This changes nothing.

The words were firm, spoken with the harshness of someone clinging to a certainty that might not even exist. But his voice… his voice betrayed something deeper, something he didn’t even want to admit. Nemo softened that mocking smile.

After a few seconds of silence where Nemo simply didn’t add anything more, Robin narrowed his eyes and, without leaning too far away, bent over him, coming only a few centimeters from his face. His breath was still uneven, but his tone was lower when he asked:

—Are you okay?

It was a simple, almost mundane question, but at that moment it weighed more than Robin wanted to admit.

Nemo stayed still, as if the question had caught him by surprise. His breath was still irregular, his gaze met Robin’s, and in it was that same defiant spark as always, but also something else… something Robin couldn’t decipher.

—I never thought you’d say something like that…— he murmured, his crooked smile barely visible, as if irony and exhaustion were mixing in his tone. —But… yeah, I guess I’m fine.— Despite everything they had just done, his expression was calm, as if in that moment he found a strange kind of peace, a balance within the chaos.

—And you?— he asked, his tone barely a whisper. —You’re still doing what you always do… playing the hero, but with something else, right?

The smile on his lips was subtle, but his words hinted that something had changed. Even though neither of them wanted to admit it.

Robin held his gaze more firmly, his body still tense. He knew what Nemo was trying to do. He knew that every word could be a hook, a trap woven with his usual game. And although they had crossed a line they should never have crossed, he couldn’t afford to fall further.

—I’m not playing, Nemo.— he declared, his voice rough but determined.

Finally, Robin sighed, trying to impose himself over his own thoughts. He leaned down and began pulling up Nemo’s pants, his movements awkward but firm.

—Come on… no one can see us like this. I’ll help you.

His tone sounded more like an order than an offer, but he couldn’t help it. Nemo was still handcuffed, still beneath him, and the image they were projecting wasn’t something Robin could process for much longer without losing the little self-control he had left.

Nemo watched him in silence, his expression hard to read. There was no mockery, no immediate provocations, just an unusual stillness. He stayed still as Robin pulled up his clothes, and although his nature had never been to stay quiet, in that moment he seemed to have no need to speak.

But when Robin finished, when his hands were still resting on him, Nemo let out something unexpected.

—Thanks… for helping me.

It wasn’t a joke. It wasn’t a game. There were no double meanings in his voice. Just honesty. Raw, direct, unembellished.

Robin looked up, surprised by the genuine tone in Nemo’s words. It was the first time he had heard a “thank you” from his mouth without sarcasm. And though his face remained serious, something in his gaze faltered.

Without knowing why, without thinking too much, his hand slid to Nemo’s hair, brushing it gently away from his face. It was a brief gesture, almost insignificant, but enough for him to lean slightly over him and brush the corner of his lips with a kiss.

There was no urgency or desperation in that contact. It was barely a touch, a gesture too soft for what they usually were. But its simplicity made it more dangerous than anything else.

Nemo stayed still. His gaze, fixed on Robin, reflected genuine surprise. He didn’t respond immediately. He just watched him, not knowing how to react to something that didn’t fit the dynamic they had always shared.

That kiss wasn’t a challenge. It wasn’t a misjudgment driven by the heat of the moment. It was something more. And that threw him off completely.

His breath slowed, his body, for the first time in a long time, didn’t react with the intention to regain control of the situation.

—What are you doing, Robin?— he asked, his voice quieter than usual. There were no games. Just a real question, unembellished, without pretense.

Robin seemed to snap out of it suddenly. He pulled away just a few inches, breaking the contact, his expression hardening again.

—I… thought I…— he murmured, pulling away as much as he could from Nemo and diverting his gaze. His own breath was erratic as he hurried to fasten his uniform, trying to regain his composure.

Nemo watched him in silence, his gaze darkened by something Robin couldn’t identify. But instead of taking advantage of the moment, instead of pushing beyond what they had already done, he simply let it go.

He stayed still, letting Robin pull away, though inside, something twisted with discomfort.

—You thought that…— he repeated Robin’s words with a bitter smile, his gaze following him intently. He didn’t add anything more. Didn’t ask, didn’t pressure. But the doubt was there, hanging between them like a ghost that was impossible to ignore.

Silence fell again, heavier than before. Robin ran a hand through his hair, his expression filled with conflict.

This had all been his fault. He had crossed the line. He had given in.

—This has all been a mistake…— he murmured harshly. —None of what happened… it can’t leave here, understood?—

Nemo looked at him without flinching. His eyes no longer held the defiant sparkle from before, but they didn’t show submission either. They just studied him, as if trying to decipher something even Robin didn’t understand.

—What happened, happened.— he finally said, his tone calmer than expected. —I don’t need you to tell me what I can or can’t do, Robin. You know I’m not someone who gets intimidated by empty threats.

His voice didn’t sound challenging, just simply confident.

And in that moment, Robin understood that, even if he tried to erase what had happened, even if he tried to convince both of them that it had been a mistake, nothing he did could change the fact that something had shifted between them. Something that couldn’t be undone.

Nemo moved just slightly, with a calculated slowness, as if every movement could make something inside him break. His breathing was deep, measured, but in his eyes, there was a flash of something else, something he was trying to hide behind his apparent calm.

—But… don’t worry. I’m not one to spill secrets. If you decide to forget this, I will too. In the end, it’s just another thing between us.

His voice sounded different this time, stripped of his usual mocking or provocative tone. It wasn’t a challenge, nor an empty farewell, but a resignation seeping through the cracks of his mask. However, Robin felt how those words pierced him, more than he would have wanted to admit.

—Another thing between us…?— he repeated in a whisper, furrowing his brow with a mix of disbelief and something deeper, something that hurt more than it should.

His jaw clenched, his chest filled with a weight hard to ignore.

—And what am I supposed to do with that?— His voice trembled slightly, barely perceptible, but enough to betray his internal conflict. His eyes burned with contained emotion as he looked at Nemo. —Do you think there’s anything more than just power and control between us? Nemo… look at yourself, this isn’t something that has to do with the two of us. This is your thing.

The venom in his words didn’t go unnoticed, but Robin wasn’t sure if he was trying to hurt Nemo or if he was trying to convince himself he was right.

Nemo slowly lifted his gaze, locking it on Robin with an intensity that took his breath away. His expression was serene, but in his eyes, there was something fierce, something burning.

—Is that what you think?— his voice was barely a whisper, but each word carried the weight of something bigger. A challenge, yes, but also a truth Robin didn’t want to face.

He leaned in slightly, not aggressively, just with that presence that always seemed to envelop him like a storm.

—If that’s what you want to believe, fine. But don’t make me carry something I’m not the only one who dragged here.

Robin felt his chest tighten. His fists clenched by his sides.

—You’re not so innocent in this, and you know it,.— Nemo continued, his voice growing lower, more intimate. —Not everything is power and control, Robin. There are more layers, more motives. But if you want to keep playing the blame game for everything that happens, go ahead. I… I’m used to it.—

The confession hung in the air, hitting a corner of Robin that he himself was trying to ignore. His lips parted, but no words came out.

Finally, after a silence that felt eternal, he shut his eyes tightly, as if he needed to contain the storm inside him.

—You’re right… I’m sorry, I didn’t…— He sighed, his voice barely a thread, full of something he didn’t even completely understand. He still kept his distance, though every cell in his body screamed for something else.

Nemo stared at him, as if analyzing every inch of his expression. Something in his features changed subtly, as if he hadn’t expected this surrender from Robin.

—It’s fine.— he murmured with an unusual calmness. —We’re not saints, Robin. You and I… we’ve always been a disaster waiting to happen.

His words felt like a blow, but there was no anger in them. Just the raw, naked truth of what they were.

The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was dense, laden with meanings neither dared put into words. Nemo ran his tongue over his lower lip, thoughtful, before throwing the final jab.

—If you want to forget it so much… then do it.

There was no challenge in his voice, no resentment. Just acceptance.

—But don’t pretend it never happened.

Robin swallowed hard. Something inside him broke, but he wasn’t sure what.

—No, it’s not that, Nemo… it’s just that… it’s complicated…

Unaware, he leaned in slightly, his hand finding Nemo’s shoulder in an instinctive gesture.

—It’s fine, let’s leave it at that. No need to keep going in circles. That will just confuse us more.

Nemo let out a soft laugh, not mocking, but with a hint of resignation.

—Confuse us more?— he repeated, savoring the words with a faint ironic expression.

He leaned in slightly toward Robin, with the shadow of a smile on his lips, but his eyes spoke of something deeper.

—Robin… we’ve been playing a game neither of us fully understands for years. The confusion started a long time ago.

He let the phrase settle in the air, giving Robin enough time to process it.

After a few seconds, he sighed and looked away, giving him the space he seemed to need.

—But it’s fine.— he said with unsettling calmness. —If you want to leave it like this, we leave it like this.

He paused, his voice dropping even further, becoming barely a whisper.

—I just hope you’re ready for what comes next.

Because, whether they knew it or not, this wasn’t over. It never was.

—What comes next? What do you mean?— Robin’s voice was a thread of uncertainty, but his hand remained firmly on his shoulder. He didn’t want to pull it away. He couldn’t. As if that contact were an anchor, a last attempt to hold onto something that was inevitably slipping away.

Nemo gave a faint, crooked smile, as if he knew a secret Robin hadn’t discovered yet. He didn’t move, letting the other’s hand remain there, letting the warmth seep through his skin.

—What comes next…— he whispered, and his voice sounded like a warning, like an echo of something that had already happened too many times. He turned his face just slightly, enough for his eyes to lock with Robin’s, making the tension between them unbearable.

—That moment when you convince yourself this meant nothing. That it was just a mistake. And then, when you see me again, when we’re on opposite sides of the city and you trap me again…

He leaned in. Just a little. Enough for the distance between them to shrink to a breath, to a decision neither of them had fully made.

—You’re going to remember what happened here.— His voice dropped to a murmur, filled with venom and certainty. —And you’re going to hate yourself for it.

Nemo tilted his head, savoring the weight of his own words, the impact they had on Robin.

—And I’ll be there to remind you.

Because that was the real game between them, wasn’t it? It didn’t matter how many times they tried to shut doors, pretend they had never crossed lines. They always returned to the same point. They always found themselves tangled in a web of broken promises and glances that said more than they should.

Robin tightened his grip on his shoulder, his fingers digging deeper into his skin as if he wanted to anchor him to reality, as if he could stop him from slipping through his fingers. His gaze, intense under the mask, burned with something he didn’t even know how to name.

It hurt. Because Nemo was right. Because this would never end. Because every time it would get worse. Because this burden would weigh more than anything else.

—That won’t happen.— His voice came out rough, broken by the contained emotion. —I’ll get you into Arkham. You’ll serve your sentences… and you’ll rehabilitate. And when all of that passes… I’ll have been there. And I’ll still be there.

Nemo let out a soft laugh, but not mocking. It was a bitter, worn sound. As if he had heard those words before. As if Red Robin’s promises were as predictable as gravity.

—Rehabilitate me?— He repeated with disbelief, no usual mockery, no typical challenge. His eyes narrowed, observing him, analyzing him with an almost painful intensity. —And what if I don’t want to be saved, Red?

He leaned in a little further, his breath grazing Robin’s mask.

—What if I prefer you keep trapping me, over and over again?

His voice became an intimate whisper, a thread of electricity between them, something only Robin could hear. Something that made the entire world disappear.

—Because if you take this from me… if you take your presence from me… what’s left?

There was no arrogance in his gaze. No mockery. Just something raw and exposed. Something that, if Robin dared to see it, would change everything.

Robin fell silent… surprised, yes, but more than anything, broken.

—Nemo…— He swallowed hard, feeling his own voice tremble. —I can’t play this game all my life… not like this.

And then he did it. He hugged him.

It was instinctive, desperate, something his body did before his mind could analyze it. He wrapped his arms around him, with all his warmth, with everything he was.

“I don’t want you to keep running.” He whispered against his hair, holding him against his chest, enveloping him in something Nemo didn’t remember ever feeling. “And I’m not leaving your side. I’m not lying when I say I’ll be here.”

Nemo froze, his body refusing to accept what was happening. Because this wasn’t part of the game. This was real. Something dangerous.

His breathing became erratic, and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a quick response, a ready mockery, an easy way out.

Robin was serious.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against his neck, feeling the vibration of his breath, the quickened heartbeat under his skin. He didn’t try to pull away. He didn’t try to escape.

—…Don’t play with this, Robin.— His voice was a muffled whisper. —If you give me something real… I won’t be able to let it go.

Because Nemo could run from everything. From Arkham, from the police, from his own allies if necessary. But if Robin gave him a reason to stay… Maybe, just maybe, this time he wouldn’t run.

Robin buried his face in his hair, memorizing his scent, feeling the softness of his strands between his fingers. He held him tighter, as if fearing he would vanish into the air.

—Please… don’t let go. Stay. Don’t run anymore. Not from me, not from yourself.

His thumb brushed his cheek with a tenderness impossible to ignore.

Nemo fell silent, trapped in that moment, in those words that shackled him in a way no shackle had ever done before.

It wasn’t Robin’s hold that kept him there. It wasn’t the cuffs, nor the rubble.

It was the way he spoke to him.

It was the way he touched him.

It was the way he looked at him, as if there was still something in him worth saving.

—…I don’t know how to do that.— His confession was barely a whisper. It wasn’t an excuse. It wasn’t manipulation.

It was the purest truth he had to give.

Robin pulled back just enough to look at him closely.

—You don’t have to do it alone.— His words were a promise, one he had been trying to keep for too long. —We’ll do it together.

Nemo looked at him, his expression a storm of emotions.

He had always known Robin was stubborn. But he never thought he’d go this far. He never thought someone like him would make a promise like that.

—You’re an idiot.— He whispered. There was no mockery in his voice, just exhaustion. And a small, tiny part of him that wanted to believe.

Robin smiled softly. —Please… give up.— His voice was low, almost pleading. —Let me help you.—

Nemo closed his eyes, his forehead still against Robin’s. He felt his warmth, his steady heartbeat, his unwavering conviction.

He tightened his hold, gripping the other man’s uniform as if it were the only thing keeping him upright.

He took a deep breath.

And finally, he surrendered.

[whysoblue2]

This is a beautiful submission from @sw124! thank you so much it made me laugh and the characterization of my sweet Kallamar was amazing! Enjoy people! ---------------- So this was something i had to write, I have a fursona/bugsona I also incorporated into the Cotl series and just couldn’t help imagining these two. For those who aren’t aware my oc is Ace [ageosexual] and panromantic

[Title: Tea and gossip]

It was just about that time, Kallamar was already loving this new little routine! Ever since he got this new assistant life had been so much easier, but that wasn’t the only thing. This assistant turned out to be a great blessing! She was patient, fluent in sign, had a grasp of basic medicine and then some, she mostly dealt with simple cases.

Mamu, a mixed breed insect, from what Kallamar could gather, she had to be a cross between a honey bee and moth for sure. Well the ‘honey bee’ part was confirmed after receiving a jar of honey as a gift from her. However…Kallamar noticed that her honey looked like one poured the night sky into jars, the taste always varied as did the colors. Sometimes the color was a deep royal tone other times bright with flecks of pollen stars. The taste was beautifully complex, the sweetness could be lighter than air or as strong as a well made scotch.

But the one thing that drew Kallamar to her…was the most surprising aspect of her, she was one of the absolute rare few who had no desire to well…invite him to the mating tent. She had no interest in sex, despite joking, commenting and gossiping about it..it seemed she rather do just that. The act itself often turned her away but talking about it was fine. That alone was got Kallamar’s attention, sure a casual fling now and then was nice but to have someone to gossip with no other motive than to talk…well that was rare. Kallamar had already prepared the tea when he felt a faint presence. Call it intuition when he opened the door…and there stood the lady in question.

“Mamu! Do come in my dear!”

“Hello Kall! I brought some fresh honey and scones! Along with some juicy gossip!”

She has four arms which Kallamar took note of the first time they met, even more so when she used her second pair of arms to sign while talking. The two wasted no time getting down to what they came to do…gossip!

“So my little honey drop, have you plucked any juicy fruit from the vine today?” Kallamar asked, taking a slow sip of his tea. “Well…depends on whatcha want to hear, gossip about your siblings or the other followers?”

Well that got his attention. “..About my siblings?”

Mamu smirked. “It’s about Narinder and the Lamb, it’s probably wishful thinking from some followers but many are whispering about seeing the Lamb and Narinder near the mating tent recently….”

Kallamar leaned in staring at her hands and face together….this couldn’t be true! “Yes…they caught two young teens trying to sneak in there to make a little ‘Whoopi’ if ya know what I mean!” Mamu gave a little titter, yep..there it was, Mamu’s rug pull.

Leaning back, Kallamar made the same motion. One pair of hands using the ‘shame on you’ gesture while his other arms were crossed, smirking as he turned his head but cracked an eye open at her. She was giggling behind her hand, peeking a glance at him. He let out a soft chuff before pouring a cup of tea for her. “But be serious my dear, did that happen?”

“Yes, I saw it happen. Poor Narinder, last time I saw him that red in the face was the time I called him a-“ Mamu’s hands flew up to her mouth, Kallamar blinked.

“Called him what?”

Her hands pressed down into her lap, her milky cream cheeks turning a light shade of cherry pink. Eyes darting to look at something other then Kallamar, well to the squid that said a lot. Her eyes were darting up not down, hands in her lap rather then plucking at each other like angry birds, lips curled in like she sucked on something mildly sour. Ooh this was something, Kallamar felt his own lips curl into a devious smirk. Now times like this he’d turn on his charm and seduce the information out, however with Mamu that never worked. So he had to develop a new technique tailored just for her…and so he deployed it.

He leaned forward, closes his eyes, curled his lips into a button smile and opened his eyes wide and began to bat them. The moment she turned to look at him…it took a bit of will power not go break the look. Mamu’s eyes lighting up with little hearts as she tried to turn away, nope, Kallamar had one tentacle under her chin in just a second, with very little effort to guid it back to look at him. Ooh she tried so hard to look away but his tentacle and gaze had her locked. It just took a minute before she finally broke, waving two of her hands.

“Okay! Okay I’ll tell you!” Ah, it never failed. Kallamar sat back, his old demenor returning. Mamu pursed her lips in a pout. “You are mean Kallamar!”

She signed while huffing, no real anger behind it. Kallamar simply tilted his head side to side before leaning forward. “So, what did you say to my brother?”

The pink in her cheeks grew a shade darker, she let out a breath and held up her hands. “This happened before you arrived, Narinder was still a bit aloof when around others. I kept my distance out of respect but when he started snapping at other followers I confronted him. Told him he shouldn’t be so cross with others just because he’s new, we got into an argument. The Lamb had to come and separate us cause it almost got physical…well by physical he was close to pushing..anyway the Lamb was escorting him away and he shouted at me that I was some lowly worker bee. My anger got the better of me and I….” Oh her cheeks were now a lovely shade of apple, Kallamar leaned in more, beckoning her to finish her story.

She hesitated before signing. “…I shouted…’At least I’m not a pussy’….”

There was a moment of stillness, did Kallamar read that right…did Mamu, little sweet as honey Mamu call his brother Narinder a pussy. The flood gates opened Kallamar began laughing, that couldn’t be true but the look on Mamu’s face said everything.

“You! My darling honey drop, you of all people called him that?!”

“Oh Kallamar it’s embarrassing enough! Honestly you’re acting just like the Lamb did…”

…Kallamar blinked, eyes lighting up. “The Lamb laughed at that?!”

An now Mamu’s face was hidden behind her hands, Kallamar pulled them away, trying his best to control the giggles bubbling up from his throat. “N-now my dear no need to be ashamed, honestly my sister Heket can be fare more poisonous with her words when crossed. Compared to her thats like…a child using a non-curse word!”

Mamu pouted again. “Still was the most embarrassing moment for me…and for Narinder too, the Lamb laughing like that.”

“Oh pshaw my dear, I doubt Narinder would be that upset about. But my goodness to have the nerve to yell that at him is impressive!”

Well that got Mamu to smile, the color returning to that love light cherry pink instead of that deep apple. A little ‘boop’ to her nose and she was back to giggling, oh Kallamar enjoyed this assistant!

But what he enjoyed more was that Leshy and Heket seemed to like his new friend! Since she knew sign it made talking to Heket easy, she was also close friends to Tharen so it made getting to know Leshy easy, that and both being insects gave them common ground, however that begged the question…….

How would Shamura react to her?

End.

Hope you enjoy this blue!

[9mysterybook6]

Rhylie a you are just crazy about power and you still do your bad deeds

Seriously, you say I'm crazy about authority while you call yourself the queen gacha

And another thing, you are just trying to get followers so that you can cause problems with others.

And you use any method to get more followers

You were Reblogs on your blog a lot of other blogs And you were posting videos from YouTube

And do I have to remind you that you tried to throw your followers at others before, the one that you them you harassed them

You don't deserve any followers, and your blog.

You never changed from the beginning you are still the same bad person

And again, you tried to be friends with the person you harassed.

Didn't I tell you to leave prometheus2007 alone?

Didn't I tell you before not to mention their name on your blog? You have no right to say their name.

Let me talk about something else.

Everyone thought Rhylie had deleted her blog But the truth is she just changed her name

rhylie the queen of gacha community

I find this funny.

This is funny, Rhylie called me before that I thought I was a queen

like I said before I never called myself a queen tumblr or gacha Just like she used to call me While she calls herself the queen

And this was her response to them

And I must say there was a lot of Narcissistic in this post.

And again, imitate other people's posts.

First stop Rhylie

After reading this I see you are the childish person here

You never respected or listened to other people's opinions.

The biggest example of what is Pamit.

You never respected her wishes, her opinion, or listened to her.

but you stalker her and her friends like a creep

And if someone obstructs your path with Pamit.

You will harass them, spread lies about them, and steal their posts and do hate drawings about them.

And I am %100 sure that is did not happen to you with Sergio

You always lie in your stories and events and make yourself the victim

But what about Sergio

Sergio has the right to tell his part of the story.

And I won't be surprised when he tells me the truth about you.

And again look at your actions

Here is the translation

How I look America Sergio's behavior How I'm getting 600 followers while leaving him alone

If I may, do you think I'm incapable of showing intelligence or maturity when responding? I wanted to tell you that I'll stop leaving Sergio and Pami alone while everyone can make fun of solosergiohd while I take a break from making fun of sergio, but zb189 is incapable of reasoning and all he does is create hate memes about me. But I'm going to have 600 followers and Sergio will get more jealous.

Are you kidding me? I asked for an apology for Sergio and not that trash of a post

Again, you are imitating my words to you

zb189 didn't do anything to you, you deserve all this after harassing and bullying people

And again you are still the dirty art thief

Remember guys when I said she doesn't put it on tag so Nobody finds stolen posts that she stole from the other

Surprise she does it again

Like I said when no one is looking or noticing she posts stolen art on her blog to get a lot of followers.

Look at this This is a drawing by braydenhalo.

https://www.deviantart.com/braydenhalo/art/Lila-JollyFox-Smiling-Critters-Oc-1149570688

Like I said, she's still a dirty thief and she's never changed.

Like I said, she does whatever it takes to get followers.

And you know Rhylie previous actions when she has many followers.

Rhylie usually lies about things and presents herself as the victim, then asks her followers to attack, bully, or report her victims.

Rhylie is also trying to get people who don't know her drama to report her and stand by her side after she told and spread lies about the truth.

Rhylie always tries to win the affection of others and sympathy of others so that her blog will not be reported.

And makes herself a pitiful victim

That's why I say spread awareness about Rhylie and I say report her blog.

Because imagined the disaster Rhylie would cause with her followers and the impact Rhylie would have on them, especially minors.

As you know, Rhylie loves stalking and chase minors like a creep.

And you know what's funny, remember this reply?

This is so funny

Aren't you the same person trying to be in a relationship with two girls you know nothing about

Even one of them said her age 18 While telling you your age 21, They do not feel comfortable with your words in a relationship

Then you, stupid, answered

Rhylie: I am 21 years old and a sensitive person Blah blah blah

You are trying to insist on being in a love relationship with two people, and one of them is their age 18 While your age 21!!!!!

This is what I call Pervert

And when you failed to convince them to have a relationship with you

Rhylie started doing drama and crocodile tears.

Rhylie: say you're not the right person for me Blah blah blah Blah blah blah Blah blah blah

Even in the end you tried a guilt trip and a manipulative to get them to be in a relationship with you or at least be by your side

But of course this did not succeed because they know your true nature and your heinous actions.

So Guys remember to spread awareness about Rhylie and report her blog.

So as not to cause too many problems in the future, or Rhylie get more people to target Or do more horrible things

And a message to Rhylie:::: Before you say I am jealous of you As usual just Lie and excuse

This is not true.

I never get jealous of a corrupt person like yourself.

I don't even care how many followers I have.

But at least I respect them and don't use them as tools to attack others like you.

I mean do you see me crying crocodile tears like you and guilt trip like you

Of course not

I'm just telling the truth about you and your harassment of people.

So keep harassing me, bullying me, attacking me, drawing hate on me, And make your followers attack me And spread lies about me and copying my words, Because eventually you will be banned from here.

[killerzys]

Should probably post this on my venting account..oh well

[DO NOT ATTACK ANYONE THAT WAS MENTIONED]

Tw mentioning of cutting, say kill yourself, and F1zzyst4r

Please don't center me around this drama I'm not the one who needs the support Wenni is they have been a victim of F1zzyst4r for a year now I just want to simply explain.. how this has affected me.. but please show some support to Wenni and not me

More in the undercut

So there has been a lot on my mind been gone a few days so it feels a little bit more clearer

I do not want to meet the situation about me since I'm not the one who's being harassed Wenni has and I don't want to make the situation about me even though I am also being affected by it. Just not the way Wenni has been, that's why I have been scared to talk about how I'm feeling about Skittles.. and everything but uhh just because I don't want to make it about me I'm not the let's say main victim.. yes I have been harassed I don't know if was one of skittle's friends that told me this in my ask box but someone recently told me to kill myself and it threw me off

And for a while I felt forced to be friends with him (Skittles) I texted him before I blocked him that hey I felt forced to be your friend and it's making me uncomfortable.. I didn't say this part but the tracing also made me uncomfortable.. especially when it was clear that you copied someone else's design and is tracing someone else's art without credit or say oh yeah I make expired by this person inspiration, and now don't come attack me and say oh there's a few times that you didn't credit someone but as soon as someone say hey by the way maybe credit the person that gives you inspiration you @ them and I have I go back and edit pic or post and @ the person there is just sometimes where I get so excited that I forget but Skittles even after being called out and you're saying hey dude by the way maybe just give credit to the person that you take inspiration from Skittles is like erm actually they're tracing me!!

That's my point of view of how I see it and those other parts but I don't want to make this really long and boring to read

But I just mainly wanted to say how I've been infected by everything, after becoming friends with Skittles I thought they were kind and sweet they were to me but that's before I knew the full drama I did follow wenni on Pinterest for a while and seen little glimpse here and there last time I seen before I became friends with Skittles is that Wenni and Skittles were on good terms.. so I thought it was all right to be his friend, this whole friendship started because I made my old reference sheet of nighty, based off of on of wenni's old ref.. Skittles was like hey by the way maybe not copy me and I simply told them that I took inspiration from someone else that I didn't even know they were on the board, we became friends on Tumblr and talked, then I started getting targeted not targeted that's not the right word to say involved in drama that simply I was just watching from behind.. never had any attention to get involved with any of the drama but with my luck I somehow got into it because I was friends with Skittles.. I'm no longer friends with him and I feel free I feel safer now but I keep seeing the excuse of like his friends in my inbox "he made art for you and everything, he thought you guys were friends" just because you simply made art for me doesn't really mean anything I'm sorry? Like I make art for a lot of people doesn't mean I'm their friend I just think whatever OC or design I did was really neat and I wanted to draw it myself.. in the friend part I did see each other as friends but we never really communicated like we were friends.. we would talk to each other about the drama and I remember at some point I said whoever is tracing needs to own up to it now so this drama could be over and no one can get hurt or go through more mental health problems... But it seems that he didn't take that advice but oh well but other than talking about the drama and stuff we vented it to each other, there were a few funny moments but it's wasn't really friends? It was like that one buddy you see crossing the hall and you talk for a minute before going back to your class and then you don't see them for the rest of the year that's how it felt and before everything that happened I will admit I had a tad of a crush on Skittles but over time it started affecting me not in the greatest way... And I just lost all feelings when I got with my partner... And then at some point he would call me dear or something ? And sweetheart saying I'm sorry I think someone hacked my account acting all flirty with me which made me uncomfortable...

But besides that uhh he has now decided to text my mutuals or get his friends to do it I believe he's doing it because they are all anonymous and him or he got his friend to send something one of my mutuals inbox say hi by the way uhh river faked being friends with Skittles like a few times something something quite frankly I don't think you should be mutuals with them no more

Ok ok Skittles I see I see going to my mutuals telling them, that they should stop being friends with me because I stopped being friends with you because you're traced someone's art and copied many people's designs and when I tell you that I felt forced to be your friend and felt so uncomfortable and I unfollowed you which is a valid reason saying that I was uncomfortable and blocking you you're going to resort to going to my mutuals and basically harass them saying you should stop being friends with River, river is a bad friend you shouldn't be friends with them

Okay buddy like what? I've been trying to stay serious but the more I text this sentence the more I'm getting mad and the more I'm realizing the red flags that I should have realized from before... Honestly Skittles I hope you get help I hope you get therapy or something I'm not going to wish upon your death because honestly that's against what I believe which is nothing but like I don't believe in telling people they should kill themselves just because of certain actions I feel like they should get help now let's say if you were a pedophile now I would say kill yourself but does drama could have been resolved a long time ago if you just figured out your own art style who you are and stop copying someone to the point of copying that Wenni saying you have anger issues and trust issues ?

Wet Skittles I do wish that you get some therapy help mental help hell go to a mental asylum I don't care get help...

Now onto more stuff that like other things I've been thinking about

So basically going to my friends and harassing them

Having people go in my inbox harassing me saying like why did you stop being friends with Skittle kill yourself

It feels like you're using the fact that I used to have a crush on you against me and saying that we were friends because sometimes we made art for each other?

That's really it? Uh yeah I don't know this entire situation has just had me stressed about everything.. to the point where I'm having a hard time even drawing.. communicating with people talking and everything...it's really unbearable.. a few days ago I lost my streak .. because of this. The stress got so much that I took it out on myself I was almost 2-3 month clean..

[hxrsheykisses]

I’ve been following this acc for a bit and I LOVE your writing and how you characterize the boys, I was wondering if I could request an oc x canon fic (My main man CJ x Josh,,,) All his info is pinned on my blog! >:333

Awwww!!! This oc is so creative! I love the design!♥️ i’m glad that I can finally get to this request since I got sick before I could even get a draft started up. I love writing for Josh SOOOO much, he’s so underrated and whenever I see OC X CANONS of him my world just brightens. I really hope I got your oc right… I get really anxious with these ocs x canons because I don’t want to mischaracterize the c LOLOL!!! Thank you so much for requesting!!♥️💋💋

🩷 SPECIAL | CJ TAKAHARA X JOSH LEVY 🧡

CJ was cool.

Ever since he joined in with the club, it was a new thing for Josh and the other members. They never met someone who had a crazy passion for Karate—something that wasn’t technically put into play in the club. Everyone had their personally views on CJ being the newest member in the club.

Josh had a few that ran deep.

CJ is that type of kid who may look relaxed and easygoing—which is true. But as soon as you spark up about one of his interests, he talks about it in such a way where you can see that CJ loves his passions, he lives on his passions, and he isn’t afraid to show it off or tell it. Josh found that to be a fascinating character trait. He too was passionate about his nerdy interests but it wasn’t like he had anyone else to talk to death about them besides his so called friends. He liked the fact that CJ didn’t care if some of these people who got an earful from him about his passions didn’t know jack about him, they will hear it and get to know CJ as a person.

CJ is confident.

Josh envies CJ for this one. CJ is loud and lets everyone know who he is. If he was a stranger a second ago, he sure won’t be now because he’ll let everyone know that he has talent. He has the potential. He has the ability. He is willing to show out for anyone who spares a moment—just a moment. That feeling of accomplishment runs deep. CJ isn’t afraid—he’s fearless. He doesn’t let anyone tell him that his successes are a waste of time because he believes that it’s not true. CJ is everything that Josh isn’t and wants to be. It’s a tough pill to swallow but it draws Josh in more. He wants to listen to whatever CJ is spouting about when nobody else would and he’d remember every single thing.

CJ talks a lot.

And Josh loves a long talking session. Oh, he loves them so much. He does it everytime when he gets the chance too during club. The guys aren’t as good when it comes to listening into what Josh had to say unless it included something about a tape or a comic that shows female anatomy, they’d get a rush for that, no duh. But with CJ? He’s able to talk. He’s able to go into detail. He’s able to go on and on.

CJ gets the same respect back. Josh loves hearing what CJ has to say. Whether it’s about his all time favorite action movie, something that happened in karate, how he learned how to play a character from Mortal Kombat or Street Fighter, the new fighting techniques he learnt—Josh wants to hear it all. Josh yearns to hear about the latest details of anything that CJ has for him and he savors it every single time.

…

…CJ is—

“Hey! Are you watching?”

Josh audibly gasped as he jerked a little bit, shaking his head to bring himself out of the daze he was in. “Oh—Oh, yeah! I-I’m watching!” Josh said quickly, readjusting his glasses. He had forgotten that CJ was going to show off one of his newest techniques he learned from watching this choreography video last night.

CJ put his hands on his hips as he gave Josh a look. “Really?” He asked flatly. “These techniques aren’t easy to do, y’know!”

“I know! I’m sorry, okay? I was just thinking! I’m for real watching right now.” Josh encouraged CJ to get back into his original stance in the middle of the mat on the floor, sitting upright and watching CJ intently just so that he knew that Josh was giving him his full attention.

…CJ is special.

CJ has a lot of talent—amazing talent. His love for Karate is what puts all the pieces together, it’s what makes CJ—CJ. Josh was always the first one to get to see these new skills that CJ had picked up on and he felt honored. He enjoyed seeing the determination on CJ’s face as he prepared himself. It felt kinda like a movie, an action movie at that. It also a little intense in a good way and that’s how Josh liked it. The various moves CJ did looked like something straight out of a comic. It had so much perfection, stealth, and most importantly—focus. During these times is where Josh finally shuts his mouth for a moment so that CJ can concentrate. The silence is breathtaking as Josh watches with astonishment each time.

After CJ finished up with the choreography, Josh would lift both of his hands and clap. “Holy shit? That was insane!” Josh exclaimed. “And what did you say that move was?”

CJ let out a slow sigh leave his lips before replying, “That was a Jumping Back Kick I just did! I spent hours perfecting this yesterday night so now I remember it like the back of my hand.” CH proudly boasted in triumph. “It was practically light work!”

“That was…amazing. Especially since you learnt it just yesterday! CJ—how come your not a black belt yet?” Josh asked. Josh was still in much disbelief at how CJ wasn’t a black belt yet, this seems like black belt level techniques!

CJ felt his heart skip a beat at Josh’s words. He fidgeted with the orange belt that was wrapped around his waist as he looked away for a second. As crazy as it sounded, CJ never really got compliments—he’d get them—but not as much as he thinks he should. Karate is a hard sport and it takes time, effort, and patience. He wishes that more people would see that. He’s grateful that Josh understands that and knows that Karate isn’t just some sport where you do some easy techniques and call it a day. It’s so much more than that—and Josh knew. CJ shook off the thought with a toothy grin. “I’ve been wondering the same thing! But it is what is… someone needs to stay back and teach my peers how to do some hand and kicking techniques!”

Yeah, CJ is one of a kind.

[papers-pamphlet]

NEW AMREV OC !!!!!!!!!!

Guys meet Nathan

Okay so to begin with, Nathan Taylor was a 25 year old private in the Continental Army at the time of his death.

He was born to a small family in Massachusetts and lived, what could be said as, a normal life. Anyone who knew him in life would tell you that he was, by all means, an ideal young man. He worked hard as an apprentice at his father's printing press, which gave him some impressive physical strength, he studied to become a lawyer even though he thought he would be better fit with medicine, he even courted a girl and a marriage was arranged between them.

However, one thing that was "wrong", he was never really able to feel any strong emotion, or have any meaningful relationships. He found this out when his mother died from an illness when he was a lad and he felt nothing from it. That realization never troubled him or made him hate himself, he'd simply sort of "put on a mask" of a normal person and it ended up becoming second nature. This can be seen in the way he presents himself, overly and almost eerily polite, and how his smile never reaches his eyes.

When the war began, he didn't exactly have a reason for joining. He just felt strangely drawn to the thought of being in battle. Whether that was the boredom of the insincere life he lived catching up to him, he didn't know. During the war, his politeness got him a lot of people who either really liked him, or found him really weird.

(Upon killing his first redcoat, he simply thought; "oh, I killed someone.")

Anyways, one day in battle, he saw Giles for the first time. The man was massacring his fellow patriots with a smile on his face. He knew immediately that that was the "Nameless Colonel" he would hear rumors about. So, at that moment, why couldn't he move? He knew that being in vicinity of that man, and in the battlefield in general was dangerous --- but it's not like he was frozen out of fear. After a fellow bluecoat saw him standing there like an idiot, he was tackled down so he wouldn't get shot. And in that moment on the ground, he came to a conclusion; he was attracted to that colonel---for the first time, he found someone interesting.

God knows why, but he made the assumption that they were similar, and in a way, they were... but at the same time, they were completely different. He'd thought that Giles was a "better version of himself" that didn't restrain himself, and he admired him for that.

Unlike Joseph, who loved Giles for more than his sadism, Nathan's attraction was solely because of it. And since the two would never interact outside battle (although sometimes he would willingly get himself into close-calls with Giles), Nathan would only just continue to make delusions/assumptions/headcanons about him that would only fuel his interest more.

in @/hamalicious-soup's words --- a "delusional fanboy with a parasocial relationship"

He'd also tell his mates about his interest and they'd all think "whatt= the fuck ??"

Anyways, sometime in 1777, Nathan would willingly volunteer to go on a spy mission at the redcoat camp, if just to get closer to the colonel than actually gathering info. He gets caught near-immediately.

At getting captured, he of course didn't feel frustrated or depressed, he simply accepted that he'd failed, and was going to be hanged.

Well the upside was that Giles was the one that questioned him in his own tent !!!!

And Giles found him "amusing" and that was just about it. He decided to keep him alive for a few more days. He came to know about the rebel's interest in him, and it amused him even more. However he did not return those feelings, he still believed he was incapable of loving anyone, this was of course before Giles met Joseph.

Eventually Giles did kill Nathan. He was a spy, so he should have been publicly hung, but Giles opted for privately strangling him where he was. Nathan didn't complain, he found it intimate.

When Giles put his hands on his throat, their final interaction went something like this:

"I love you."

That caused Giles to pause for a moment. "If that is your way to convince me to stop, it's quite strange."

"No, I am telling the truth."

"Then your affections are misguided." He then began to put in some pressure. "I don't love anyone."

...

"You are --- beautiful." And those were Nathan Taylor's last words.

After that it doesn't take long for Giles to forget about him lol

[dykedvonte]

I keep seeing fanarts of ppl's OC's being on the ship, so do you think that if there was 6st crewmember (specifically, another woman) Anya would've been more safe? Like, someone to actually call Jimmy's begaviour out, someone Anya might wanna trust? Is there a possibility something might have changed (even if a little) or it would not have mattered at all?

-💀

I feel like the game would make it part of the commentary on where she would believe and help Anya but still be sort of dismissive? Like the whole “don’t waste time crying and being scared keep going and move on, don’t let him win”. It’s supposed to be positive and reinforcing but sometimes it does more damage in those times of mourning and grief, it feels patronizing, like you don’t understand what you’re going through but they do. Even if they did call out his behavior it’s still on Curly to act and while another voice would help, it’s still 4 against 2 on guys that don’t get it until they have to vs women who always have to.

I don’t mind mouthwashing OCs but I do get a bit bored as they tend to be borderline saviors or like Jimmy aligned. They are either more complicit than Curly or just Jimmy haters for no reason, outside of what the creators know about what he did to Anya. I am never irked by OCs but in a story like mouthwashing you really need to think about what your character adds to the commentary, especially if they are there during the crash. It’s nice to have like characters on Anya’s side more whole heartedly and interesting to see characters who placate Jimmy but sometimes it’s one note.

I can’t and don’t want to police peoples OCs it’s never my intention when I comment on trends I notice, but I do feel like the way people make their OCs interact with these two characters and especially Curly, really show a grave misunderstanding of the narrative and these characters as people vs roles in the story. Still, I know people just make up characters for fun and that’s fine. Great even, but I guys I’m focusing more on OCs that are supposed to have those serious dynamics. My favs tend to be pretty-Tulpar or post-Tulpar au OCs.

The inevitably of the crash is on Jimmy. He did that not because he wasn’t stopped but because all his means to kill Anya were taken. The gun, the axe. Even if Curly did strip him of his co-pilot privileges and try to keep him contained there’s only so many people. An extra body helps but they have jobs they have to do, he’s the only one steering the whole ship and Jimmy would likely have an out: food, bathroom, etc. He’s not new and if he couldn’t crash the ship directly, who’s to say he wouldn’t sabotage something else? A clunker like the Tulpar wouldn’t take much. An extra person helps but it’s just another thing that prolongs what a person like Jimmy is willing to do to shirk responsibility.

It’s more than just needing someone to stand up to him and think that’s what is missing when it comes to inserting a character into the mouthwashing setting.

[seaquestions]

blake lets him keep it. this is a dire lapse in judgement on his part but they're just gonna have to live with it. (ids in alts)

[finalgirlminamurray]

remember when halloween 2018 (or as i like to call it, halloween h40) came out and people were making those flowchart-style diagrams explaining the various halloween timelines? i like when people try to do that for the texas chainsaw massacre series because it is a fool's errand. you cannot divide that series into distinct specific continuities because there aren't any. there's a good argument to be made that every single film in that series takes place in its own completely separate timeline because it so often does not bother to meaningfully connect them beyond the single recurring character of leatherface.

i've mentioned before that tcm2 is my favorite sequel and the only one i actually like and will accept as a canon sequel to the original film, and part of that is because despite the complete 180 in tone it does, it's the only one that bothers at all to be a sequel. i think it's the only one that makes sense as a continuation of the first movie - the only glaring continuity errors are confined to the opening scroll text, which you can take or leave as part of the films' canon. (by this i mean the first movie's opening implies that the sawyers' crimes were discovered after sally's escape, while the second film explicitly says no evidence was found. also it retcons sally's last name to be "hardesty-enright" instead of just making lefty's last name also hardesty, for whatever reason.) there's one newly introduced member of the family but you can infer why he wasn't there in the first movie, and the one who isn't there this time has a good reason to be absent (he's died.) one of the main characters in this movie is a relative of the first film's final girl and his involvement in the plot is explicitly connected to what happened to his niece and nephew. the events of the first movie clearly happened in this universe. low bar, i know.

this could be attributed to this being the only sequel also directed by tobe hooper, although the original film's screenwriter did not return, and him having more of a vested interest in continuing the story of his own work. most of the original film's cast did not return for this one (can't say i blame them), but they work with that pretty well. i do think the film ends in a way that pretty decisively puts the brakes on any possible continuation from there, which could be attributed to hooper not really wanting to do a sequel in the first place and trying not to get asked back for another one. (i agree this was not a film that should ever have had sequels, much less become a full-on franchise. but you can tell that upon having to do it they were just like fuck it, let's have fun. hence the tone.) not that that stopped the studios from valiantly trying again and again to profit off of this title.

which might explain why the later sequels are so particularly weird. they don't really have a lot to go off of, i guess. i think part of the problem is that this is one of the few slasher films where the villain is actually a group of people, not a single recurring killer or identity various killers take up. they do have a silent, masked slasher who can be played by whichever new stunt guy you get for each film, but what about the rest of the family? it's always felt important to me that there isn't anyone outside of this isolated little unit in the first movie, but sequels keep inventing totally new characters out of nowhere with no explanation as to where they've been in previous installments. doesn't matter - we're in a new continuity now. tcm3 does not logically follow in any real way from tcm2 or tcm1. it's not a sequel despite the number in the title. it's a reboot.

(i've kind of come around on tcm4 aka tcm: the next generation. i used to think it was the worst sequel but now i think i get what it's trying to do a little better, although it is a pretty stupid movie in a lot of ways. some people have described tcm2 as a deliberate parody of the first film but i think that applies way better to the next generation, seeing how it follows a lot of the same plot beats but done in a more outlandish and parodic way. also, hey: same screenwriter as the original, returning this time as director.)

then the remake made a shit ton of money and kickstarted a new direction for 2000s horror (great. thanks for that.) and got a prequel that also actually made sense as existing in the same continuity as the film it was a prequel to. (again it probably really helped that they were able to get most of the cast back. no need to invent new family members when you still have all the same people playing them.) then in 2013 we got a sequel that promised to Finally be a Direct sequel to the original movie and...it made no sense as one. they try to pick up right where the original left off but right away there are once again a whole bunch of new characters who definitely weren't there in the first movie suddenly appearing in the house, including a baby whose existence is crucial to the plot.

(i'm sure everyone knows about the bizarre timeline decisions of this one, namely the main character ostensibly having been born in the same year as the events of tcm1 but only being about 18 years old during the main events of texas chainsaw 3d, despite it seeming to take place in the modern day. however there is an explanation for that! originally the film was supposed to take place in the early 90s when a character born in 1973 would have been that age, but studio meddling forced them to reshoot it to be 2013. you might notice that any mention or depiction of the exact year the opening scene takes place seems conveniently obscured in this film, implying that it is yet another alternate timeline where the events of tcm1 occurred sometime in the 1990s. this also serves as further demonstration that 1. studio executives are the dumbest people alive, and 2. people really don't care that much about the first movie. more on that later.)

leatherface 2017 is an attempt at a prequel that also makes little to no sense as a backstory for its titular character; i wouldn't be surprised if it started out as an original screenplay that got retrofitted into a tcm movie. there are no new sawyer relatives invented for this film (i don't think), but it does seem strangely insistent on keeping its leatherface away from the family for as much of the film as possible, making it feel especially like it didn't actually want to be a tcm movie. (the twist of the titular character's identity is clearly meant primarily to be surprising and not to make sense, but i can only say: there's no way that the original film's leatherface grew up apart from his birth family for that long and also used to be a "normal"-by-neurotypical-standards, verbal kid. different continuity.)

then in 2022 we get yet another attempt at No Guys Seriously For Real, This is a Direct Sequel to the First Movie, and i should have known things weren't looking good when it was announced this was actually getting dumped on netflix in february but my expectations plummeted to rock bottom when that teaser came out that thought the most relevant part of the movie to sell to people was a "canceled" joke. jesus. tcm:tng i'm sorry, this is the clear worst sequel. (if it was just that one dumb joke it might not be, but there's so much more that's awful in this movie - whatever.) anyway continuity-wise i guess this isn't completely disconnected, there is clear acknowledgement that the events of the first movie happened, but it's really not relevant to the main plot at all, when you get right down to it. pro tip: if a slasher sequel advertises the return of the original film's final girl, she will most likely not be in the film for more than five minutes. there's some implied backstory about leatherface running away to this neighboring town and being taken in by the lady who runs the orphanage, but honestly this could easily be yet another different continuity where leatherface is the adopted son of a kindly old lady (who still has a confederate flag in her window, jfc, i think this is the first time that imagery has ever been used in this series and it's associated with a character who's supposed to be sympathetic??) who was keeping a lid on his murderous tendencies before she died. points for effort i guess but i don't think it deserves much.

i really don't know why this series in particular is like this. most horror franchises will have their movies clearly follow each other and exist within the same continuity, sometimes with a reboot or two if they've gone on long enough (see: halloween having at least three different timelines, but all clearly branching from the same source.) if it's supposed to be an anthology series, they'll just...say that. i've heard it said that this series works best when viewed as variations on a theme, like the original film's events are an urban legend of sorts being told and retold around the campfire and every version is different because everyone remembers it differently or makes up their own. i do like that and think it makes the franchise make more sense but i know most people watching these movies aren't thinking about it like that, they're thinking of them all as sequels to the same movie, with the remake and its prequel being the only ones clearly existing in their own separate continuity.

it's a little sad to see how no one making official movies in the series seems to really care that much about the ostensible source material. maybe i'm biased because it's the film my brain latched onto the hardest when i started really getting into horror, but i think this movie is so interesting and there's so much there to explore with the little we're given about these characters and their dynamics and what they do and why they do it, and even if you can't really dive into all that in a movie you could at least use what's already there for your sequel and most of them just...don't. like they don't seem to have watched the original movie even before writing a sequel to it, just going off their own vague memories about that one scary movie about a guy with a human skin mask and a chainsaw. i know i shouldn't be expecting any more from a slasher franchise on its 9th installment but...whatever. it is what it is. this was never supposed to be a franchise in the first place. at least i can shout into the void about my thoughts and feelings on here.

(i think i read somewhere that the filmmakers were actually forbidden from referencing cannibalism in the script for texas chainsaw 3d and if that's true...oh boy. talk about missing the point. if you feel like something significant is missing in the later films in this series that's probably part of it.)

[adriartts]

more side character designs now to the tune of the Kil sisters

[miodiodavinci]

i saw that you used to hint at oc stuff on twitter (don't ask me why im digging im looking for zola stuff lmao) why don't you post more about them?

i am simply terrified that if i post oc things online someone will steal the concept and run with it faster and better than i ever could have and then i will be devastated forever and ever

more seriously i have very little to show for any of my oc things (adhd brain making life difficult as per usual awawawawawa) and every time i've shared oc things in the past i've ended up never following up on it and it makes me feel bad and guilty so i've just convinced myself i will Never talk about my ocs until i have something substantial i can put out there

[designsdefiance]

day 21: lost

it's bad enough being in a new world totally alien to her. to not recognise her sister? agonising. unbearable.

[swordmaid]

having shri’iia thoughts as one does bc GUESS who’s save file completely died when the new patch came out nooo we have to replay her again 🤭 alas. just stewing on the thought of how she never got to fuck her Mistress even though she wanted to…!!!! like she was out there getting psychologically tortured and mind broken but she was just like WHY won’t you fuck me im literally doing everything for you. which is so bad for her, woman who already has an excruciatingly low self worth because she missed the mark on the standard for lolth’s children (and that’s worse than not fitting in the standard at all) by something out of her own control btw (not being born in a noble house) but she’s been recognised and blessed by her goddess, and she’s been invited to join a drow house so everything should be good right?? she should be desirable right?? finally everything is correct and well and good and the way it should be right????? but no..!! it’s not..!! and so she’s doing everything for this woman, no dignity left, literally doing anything to get her approval, to be told that she’s finally enough, and she’s finally fitting in - and she gets it sometimes, she gets ignored most times tbh and it’s just this painful excruciating stew of self loathing and insecurity that she’s in, and she’s in there for a century but the thing is she can’t even give up. it’s not in her nature to. and she’s done too much to just give up , and she’s been doing this for a long time that she can’t give up and lolth didn’t raise no quitters so she sticks by it, trying to achieve that hopeless praise. but then one day she gets dropped like nothing, everything she’s done and suffered and worked towards and sacrificed gets thrown out bc her goddess isn’t pleased with her and good luck going home btw you’re not welcome here anymore bc ur pathetic. the rug gets pulled under her feet and she’s left in this strange world that she can barely navigate in let alone speak the language and u expect her to b fine with that…?

[neverendingparable]

In a less salty way of putting it: interacting with characters is the best way to get to know them and getting to know the chemistry your muses will have.

It's one of the reasons I'm against pre-established relationships, especially with new partners because I can't actually predict how close our muses could be.

Everyone puts a lot of thought (and love) behind their OCs and its rewarding for both parties to work for that lore.

[the-acid-pear]

Why did my cooking dream get hijacked by my brain making a William Afton oc and au what was that about.

[peapod20001]

Birthday you say?! Hm..... by any chance do you have any particularly favorite oc? That you would want to see fanart of? Jk jk..... unless👀👀👀

Lol Shirley is usually my go to when ppl ask what character they should draw. I’ve had them longer than most and they are easier to get for some people than my other characters. Also you can just dress him in literally anything and it works so that’s a bonus lol

Some others I’m more biased towards are Felix and Rory, I think really hard about em lol. Honestly I’d enjoy anything someone makes with any of my ocs especially if it’s a character THEY like cus I enjoy seeing which of my ocs ppl fancy hahahagahaga