#you may not like him all that much but are you going to ignore the person who comes up and announces himself in charge

[athenaluciscaelum]

Okk so how about a dmc 3 Dante x stoic reader! Like Dante could pull cheesiest stuff and reader will just respond with a wink and Dante assuming we just don't care enough about him and back off only for him to find out that we do like his advances but just don't know how to respond to that. A comedic scenario igggg. Sorry if' it's confusing, feel free to ignore!

Note: I can relate to this personally. You might think that, writing all this, I might appear to be flirty or at least understand flirtatious cues... Nope... I still remember the artist who said my eyes were pretty at the India Art Fair, and I was like, "These are contacts." Only to later realise he was trying to flirt. And lots more instances; my love life is non-existent.

And the smut was totally necessary...trust me, I know you wanted it to be just funny. But I added a few more layers; I hope you like it. Let me know in the comments; I always appreciate them

Confidence

Pairing: DMC 3 Dante x Fem!Reader

Rated: Mature

Words: 3569 words

Warning: Sexual Content, Unprotected Sex, Oral

!!MINOR DO NOT INTERACT!!

Dante is confident. That is one way to describe Dante. Even if he proposed to a broom when he was drunk, it was with confidence. But you made him question his confidence. Were his good looks lacking? Were his lines trashy? At least he was original...right? You appreciated originality; you laughed when he mocked his opponents, so his humour was not missed on you.

You met Dante after the Temen-Ni-Gru incident. Few of the demons who escaped the tower were able to get into adjacent cities and towns of the Capulet City. By the time Dante reached your home, you were the only survivor. You were the same age as him or a year younger; he could tell. You were slumped on the floor, trying to stop bleeding from where your mother was stabbed; you cried, "Please...help!" Dante rushed by your side and touched your mother's corpse; it was cold. He removed your hands from the wound. You screamed, "Are you mad!? She will die!?" Dante looked at you with sympathy, "She is dead...." You frowned as you thrashed him, "No! Just help me!" Dante stood up, "I am going to check for survivors...." You cursed him; you were not sane anymore; you kept shouting and crying, "She is alive! She is alive! Why won't you help me!?"

Soon firefighters, paramedics, and police arrived. Most of the area was burnt to the ground; you were sitting in the burnt porch of what used to be your house, covered in a blanket. Dante was about to leave; he didn't like to mingle with authorities. But he saw your face; he saw himself in it. The face who lost everything and every hope. He walked over to you, sitting down beside you. You spoke in a monotone, your heart heavy with our loss, "I'm sorry... you were right..."

Dante sat beside you. "Do not be... Do you have anywhere to go?" You thought and gave him a logical answer, "Home was insured...." Dante looked at you with concern, "It will be considered an act of God," You screamed at him, "It was a demon!" Dante looked at you with pain in his eyes. "That statement is more likely to land you in a psychiatric ward than get you money from an insurance company..."

You looked up at the dark sky,"I do not care... I have nothing left..." Dante nods, "Nothing except your whole life..." You looked at him as he continued, "Live...I'm sure that is what your mother would have wanted..."

It was that day, and now it's been a year. Dante helped you bury your dead family members. The funeral home was paid magically, and you found money in your account, out of nowhere.

You never questioned it; there was so much in this world that didn't make sense to you anymore. Dante let you live in Devil May Cry. No question asked, no strings attached. You were so nervous on the first night. A fear that he might want to get something in return. He didn't, but he did give you free pizza.

It was a healing journey for both of you; he had a lot of pain in his heart that a stoic person like you could take and never utter a word about. And you had someone to lean on who had gone through the same. As you two spent those lonely nights together basking in each other's pain. It gave you both desire to live. Moreover, It gave Dante a desire to live with someone; he was daring to dream. It will be nice to hold you when you let him shed each layer of vulnerability in front of you.

But do you feel the same? Dante never knew how to talk. It was not a Sparda trait to talk about your feelings. It was a Sparda trait to stab and fight your nearest living blood relative. So how? Dante could only do what he does best – mask his feelings, put on his confidence and nonchalant mask, and flirt with you. In hope that you will reciprocate and maybe will become a haven for freaks of nature like him in more than one way. Does he deserve this in his eyes? No. But he wanted to try. No! No! He must not. His greed can be the death of you.

After much contemplation, Dante decided that he could just flirt, bask in your little laughs and flustered cheeks. It will be enough. He won't be greedy. So it begins.

Dante called you babe all the time. And you never paid much heed; he called everybody babe, right? Flirting is like his second nature, or first?

You didn't mind when he complimented you as you wore a barmaid dress and were making your way to the bookshelf in the corner. Dante whistles as he looks you up and down, impressed, "Hiding all of these curves under the hoodie all this time, babe?" You shrug and speak technically, "I mean, barmaid dresses are made to accentuate curves; it is actually the bodice and structure of the garment that give the chest a lift and cinch the waist... The flare makes your hips look curvy... Do you like it?" You smiled. Dante just blinked dumbfounded, "Ummm...yeah...that's what I said." You smiled as you picked up a book, "Okay!" And left. Dante frowned, "What!?"

Or when you did a full glam makeup with a perfect cat eye, blush and red lipstick. Dante looked at you from his desk as you came down, "You are looking extra gorgeous today..." You smiled, "Ohho...it's all makeup, not my real face......" Dante opened his mouth to say something but stopped. You smiled, "Thanks!"

Dante thought to himself, 'Okay, maybe verbal flirting doesn't work.' You need something more direct; you're a visual person, that's right! So how about something a little more explicit? Dante was in the Devil May Cry office with you. He was always interested in tattoos but couldn't get one due to his healing abilities. And you promised to give him one (temporary) with jagua gel. Dante sat on his chair, and you were sitting on the desk to reach his shoulder properly and get the angle. Dante spoke, "How about like a tattoo sleeve on my shoulder?" You nodded, preparing the jagua gel cone... sealing its tip with tape to make the point more fine. You nodded while squeezing the cone a bit to check the fitness of the line, "Sure.... Let me just get a towel and sanitiser; any oil will interfere with the staining process. Just pull up your sleeves, okay?" As you walked to the kitchen, Dante took off his coat and shirt; it will give you better access to the area and a good view of his body. Maybe you might see him in a different light?

You came back with sanitiser and looked at his body. It was chiselled, perfect, built like a Greek god on a marble. But the look on your face was unreadable as you stared. Dante saw you staring and smirked internally; he thought, 'At last, babe.' You frowned, confused, "Where are your clothes at?"

Dante smirked, so you want to play coy? He smirked, "Won't this give you better access?" You spoke dismissively, "No... You can just pull up your sleeves and wear your shirt back. It's cold... I do not want you to freeze..." Dante wanted to protest that he could not freeze but decided to throw his shirt back if you were not interested...he would never make you uncomfortable. He was many things but not a creep.

So is he going to give up on you now? He looked at you. You just came back from the office, sitting on the red leather couch, taking off your heels to massage your foot lightly. You sighed and unbuttoned the top two buttons of your white shirt. You were exhausted; Dante was observing you like a hawk and thought to himself, 'Was there any thought behind those eyes?' You were smart, sure. But are you that naive? Or were you still too deep in sorrow to understand his cues? Maybe you just need time and space, or maybe you were not interested.

He won't give up so easily. You looked at Dante, "Dante?" Dante got back to reality, "Yes, doll?" You yawned, "I need to go out with my colleagues tonight." Dante frowned, "You look exhausted..." You nodded, "Yeah...but it is not social...more like a work thing..." Dante understood, "Okay...and?" You pleaded, "Please...drop me there...I'm too tired...and also maybe stay there with me. You can take me back home, if you're free. You like to drink as well." Dante agrees, "I have my bike...are you comfortable?" You nodded...

You came down wearing a little black dress; Dante's heart started to beat faster; he could feel his blood going south. It was just a black dress; he needs to get a grip. He got on his bike. Maybe a nice ride through the city with your arms wrapped around his waist will make you appreciate him in a different light? You just need to feel how good and warm he feels?

Dante can't deny he was excited, and he was never this excited for anyone. Not for romantic interest, but to be honest, he never had a problem. His face card was lethal. His excitement shattered as you held onto the grab handle in the back. You spoke, putting on your helmet, "Let's go...?" Dante spoke defeated, "Yeah...let's go..."

Every now and then, he sudden jolt to enclose the space between you two. His mind thinking he has been being flirty all this time. You pulled closer to his ears, and Dante's heart waltzed. At last you understand, but your voice came out irritated, "You're a pathetic rider, Dante..."

You climbed off his bike as you reached your destination. He was sitting alone at one side of the bar, lamenting. Now you think he is a pathetic rider. This hurts more than all those failed attempts. You were on the other side of the bar, nodding to your colleagues and drinking.

He stayed because you requested him to stay, if he can stay.

You drank too much and made your way to Dante when your colleagues left. You slung your arms on his shoulder and spoke tipsily, "Not even one attempt to flirt with me all night? Not one compliment?"

Dante sighs defeated; he swirls his whisky in his glass, "You look good, babe... I flirt all the time. But I see you do not want it... so I thought I would stop bothering you." You giggled, poking his cheek, "I love it...my pookie...you're so cute...when you're confused…" You giggled, and Dante pouts, "Do not lie..."

You sat on the table in front of his seat... it was dark there. You cup his cheeks as you slide between his legs... "I'm not lying... it's just so fun to see you try... I could barely resist flirting back..." Dante turns his face away, "Liar…" You turn his face back and press your forehead to his, combing back his hair away from his icy blue eyes. "Sitting shirtless in front of me, you were giving me a heart attack... I could barely resist... My heart was about to leap out... I had to ask you to put it back on... How am I supposed to concentrate? If I start to flirt back with you… I don't think I will be able to stop at just flirting... Are you ready for more than flirting?"

Your lips inches away from his, Dante cannot tear his eyes off your sweet lips. How badly he wanted to taste them. Dante looks into your eyes, "Who asked you to stop?" You guide his hands to rest on each of your thighs...and he starts to massage them. You moan, "I know humans die... easily... but that shouldn't hold you from loving them... I don't want you to regret it..."

Dante's mind was hazy; he kissed your lips softly, "I am broken." You cup his cheeks and kiss him back, "So am I." Dante kisses you back, his tongue licking your bottom lip. You understand his cue now and part your lips to let his tongue slide. He explores your mouth, tilting your head as he grabs a fistful of your hair to pull back gently and deepens the kiss.

Dante pulls back, and you gasp. Your hair tousled, lips swollen and cheeks flustered. He is going to paint you tonight… Your body will be his canvas.

Dante helps you stand up, but your legs are shaky. He can't keep his hands off you anymore. He picks you up, paying the tabs, and heads out to the parking lot.

Dante puts you down and quickly puts the helmet on your head, securing it. "Can't risk you." You smiled as you climbed back behind him. You wrapped your arms around his waist this time. As he speeds through the city and back to Devil May Cry.

Dante picks you up and keeps kissing you as he walks through the door quickly, closing the door. He throws you over his shoulder, making his way to his desk. You giggle as he deposits you on his desk. You look at him and smile, "In a hurry?" Dante turns you and bends you on the desk while quickly shrugging off his coat and taking off his shirt.

Dante trails his finger from your neck to your spine.... making you tingle and moan. He smiles, "My little vixen...you will taste your own medicine tonight." You smile and look at the front. You hear his belt unbuckling and unzipping. Your body feels hot with anticipation.... You wiggle your ass, but Dante places a hand on your spine to hold you still, "Shhhhh...patience...doll..."

You laugh, "I'm not patient..." Dante rolls the hem of your little black dress and bunches it around your waist. He squeezes your ass in lacy black panties; he was literally drooling as he felt the wet spot; it was drenched, fuck! All for him? He gets on his knee and buries his nose in your clothed cunt to inhale while spreading your cheeks; his sharp nose pokes your already sensitive flesh, making you moan and wiggle your ass. But he holds your ass firm. He places open-mouth kisses on the clothed cunt and sucks on it, making you whimper... "Dante..." Dante smirks. "Yeah, doll... I'm just making sure you understand what I want..."

Your mind was fuzzy, and as you look back, you beg, "Dante...I want this..." Dante acts innocent, like his face is not buried between your ass cheeks: "Want what, babe?" You cry, "Want you to fuck me .... " Dante chuckles, "Now I can't deny my favourite girl."

Dante gets up on his feet... He unzips your dress and peels it off... You were wearing the matching bra... He unhooks your bra strap, the dreaded red lines... must be so painful... He rubs it soothingly, and you hum. He smiles, "It feels good?" You smile, "That feels good..."

Dante hums, "You can totally not wear them around me... Look how they marked your pretty skin...." You laugh... "Absolutely not... I might think..." Dante helps you take it off. His one hand is still on your hip to hold you in place.

Dante leaned to kiss and bite your neck, shoulder, back, and trailing from your spine to your ass. It was a slow torture. You tried to rub your ass against his crotch. It felt so heavy; you were sure he was big...but he kept you firm in place. He littered your back with little bite marks. Licking and kissing the red marks left by your bra a bit extra. He stands back up, slipping your panties off till your knees. He holds both your wrists back with one hand, while the other gives a few light smacks on your ass, making you yelp and shiver in pleasure. Dante looks at you and speaks, his breath hot against your ear. "Safe Word?" You blinked and thought, "Ummm....Strawberry…"

Dante chuckles as he lands another hard smack on your red and hot ass cheek. You cry in pleasure, "Feels good, baby..." Dante pulls on your wrists to arch your beautiful body...his free hand slides in front to squeeze your tits...he groans, "God...they are perfect...." His hand slides from your soft stomach to cup your pussy, giving a gentle push to squeeze your ass against his clothes' crotch. He moans in your ear, "So sexy..."

You turn your head, and he captures your lips. As his middle finger rubs your pussy and his crotch grinds against you.

Dante turns you around and makes you sit on the table. You look up at him with lustful eyes... You look at his clothes bulge; they looked so heavy and big... You cupped it, and he hissed, your hand moving slowly to stroke him, "May I?" You asked him softly. He nodded, "Go on, babe...FYI...I'm a little big." You nodded and thought, 'Sure, how big can it be?' As you pulled down his boxers to take his cock out, a bit of fear settled in you...he was big...quite a lot... Dante could read your face; he spoke reassuringly, "It will fit..." You doubted, "Ummmm......"

Dante sighed, "We can stop if you want....." You shook your head, "No!" Dante laughed; he was flustered, and so were you. "Never thought you could be so responsive." You just give him soft strokes in response.

Dante cupped your face, kissing the crook of your neck, curve, and shoulder, coming down to your chest, starting to bite gently and create a trail to your nipple. You moaned as he took your nipple between his teeth and sucked on it gently. You cursed, "Hell… you're so good... Dante..." Your hand kept stroking him, and he hummed in agreement. He trailed his kisses and bites to your other tit and then your stomach... swiping his tongue down to suck on your puffy clit. Your hand on his cock slides off as he dips to spread your holds and lick your clit flat. The tip of his tongue playing with your nub, your legs squeezed around his head, your finger in his soft white hair. You cry as he sucked hard on your clit, "Dante.....umm...just fuck me already..." He smirked, "I just want to make it clear what I want, baby; I know you don't take on cues well." You were frustrated, as your grip on his hair tightened, pushing his head further in your pussy. His sharp nose rubbing against your clit while his tongue fucked your cunt, your legs started to shake. Dante spread them on the table. You beg, "Dante! I'm going to cum!" Dante's chin was already covered with your juices, "Sweet baby....." You looked down at him; he looked so handsome, your hair sticking to your forehead, and you were panting.

Dante stood up. He looked down at you with a smile, leaning down to kiss your lips. "You are sweet..." You cup his face, "Ummm ....Dante....." Your ankles reached either side of his neck, and he held your legs firm. Dante pulled back his face. "Let me know if you're uncomfortable, okay?" You nodded. As he guided his tip to your entrance, he was thick, heavy and long. You squeezed your eyes shut, and he pushed in. It was a stretch; Dante kept caressing your face. He hung his head, his hair framing his handsome face and icy blue eyes. He was like an art, his face contoured in pleasure, brow frowning, a bead forming on his forehead, lips agape. You were mesmerised... He groaned and pushed in inch by inch, "You're so perfect, y/n."

You took your time as he pushed himself all the way in, he stayed there for few second for you to adjust. He clenched his teeth and pants. You moan, "Dante...move...please..."

Dante started to move slowly at first, hitting all the right spots, making you scream his name, and cum, "Dante! Right! Feels so good, going to cum!" Dante increases his pace as he holds legs with a bruising grip. As you came around his cock, it only fuelled him to hit that sweet spot again and again.

You were overstimulated and talking slurred, "Dante....no more....." Dante brought your legs down to let them wrap around his waist and leads down to pepper your face with soft kisses. "Just one more, babe?"

You nodded, your head lulled to the side...he didn't stop. He kept thrusting, pulling all the way out and ramming all the way in, skin slapping skin. He feels his balls tighten and rubs your clit with his thumb to come together. "Do it for me, babe?" You nod hazily and come around him, and he spurts his load in you.. Your legs fall limp, and Dante rests both his hands on the desk on either side of your body...to catch his breath, his head hanging low. You look so pretty, all flustered and blissed out, with his cum dripping out of your cunt and glistening on your inner thighs. He feels hard again. But he can see you need to rest... your eyes were barely open. He leans down to lick you clean.

You push his head away, "No more..." He smiles, "Fine..." Dante wraps you in his coat and carries you upstairs to let you rest in his bed.

JACKPOT!!!

[starm0onlight]

hello ms ma'am kaede !! 💗i hope you've been well. bubble anon here, i just want to say that i absolutely ADORE your layout and your work! may i request, a telemachus x reader angst, where basically they broke up bc lost interest but not feelings for each other, and neither of them wants to reach out but would love to try again? thank uuu <3

—🫧

stitches wounds!

₊˚⊹ ᰔ pairing: Telemachus x reader

₊˚⊹ ᰔ note: im not every good at writing angst but i hope i did well!! also yes i said I'll post it tomorrow but i got excited and finished it.

₊˚⊹ ᰔ warning: none

₊˚⊹ ᰔ content: angst, neglecting, break up, hurt/comfort, crying, apology, Athena and Penelope pushing Telemachus to fix things, happy ending.

🐺- you don't know how everything happened until it did, until it's too late to fix.

🪶- suddenly everything change, you start spending less time together, start talking less to each other, and sometimes not even spending any time with each other.

🐺- and then you two start to argue about the stupidest thing ever and for no reason. you thought it's all was because of the suitors and everything stressing him out, that he was just nervous about everything in the palace.

🪶- but even after his father came back and the suitors were gone, nothing changes, it becomes worse. not even good morning or good night. you barely see his face.

🐺- that when you decide to talk to him about it, that you couldn't be treated like this anymore. and that's when everything fall apart, you two decide to break up and everyone could go to their own path.

🪶- as heart broken as you were you thought it was for the better, that like this you won't feel neglected or ignored that's you'll find someone to actually love. but words were easier than action.

🐺- no matter how much you tired you couldn't forget him, everything seem to remind you of him, even the smallest thing seem to connect to him. but you ignore it, saying it'll all go away, but it never did.

🪶- on Telemachus side things weren't as easy too, he was suffering from his mistake, not only from himself but also his family.

🐺- his mom liked you so much and was devastated when she saw you leave and Telemachus tell her about your break up, she try to talk to him about it. but Telemachus was stubborn.

🪶- he didn't wanna admit his mistake, didn't wanna admit that he lost the only person that ever loved him and cared for him, didn't wanna dmit that he made a mistake her regret so deep but can't fix.

🐺- even athena notice it, how sad and shallow he look, like he just lost his core, his hope. he can't admit it through words but his actions never missed anyone eyes.

"you need to go and talk to her" said athena as she looked down at Telemachus who was laying in his bed, he was tired, not physically but emotionally.

"I'm fine, i don't need to talk to her, she's probably forget about me by now." he said as he rolled in his bed as if he was searching for something, maybe for the presence of his lover. for her warmth in his cold bed.

"look at yourself, you're miserable Telemachus even I can't stand and watch you do this to yourself. you still love her, you're just too stubborn to face it."

her words were true, even Telemachus knew it. but what could he do about it? he already missed up once, he doesn't wanna do it again.

"it's already too late now, it's been weeks. i don't even think she wants to see my face anymore" he said as he sighs deeply burying his face in the soft sheets.

"too late better than never, and there might be still a chance to fix everything. so before it's too late make up your mind." said athena before she turned into her owl form flying out of Telemachus room and away from the palace.

Telemachus just let her words sink in, is there really time to fix things? what if he makes things worse. what if he can't fix anything. what if you already moved on to another person?

after a while of thinking he made up his mind. he's going to take yoy back, he doesn't care if there's already someone else, ge won't let anyone take you from him.

he stands up on his feet and decided to do something about it. he might fuck up but he'll try, for you. for his undying love for you.

🪶- after his talk with athena Telemachus quick went to his mother room, asking her for her advice about what he should do to win your forgiveness.

🐺- Penelope was more than happy to see her son finally come back to his sense and take back what was the best thing in his life. you.

🪶- she tells him about stuff he should do and should say, that he doesn't need a script that his words most be true coming straight from his heart.

🐺- after that Telemachus was more excited now to go and try to fix things, maybe you guys could go back to what you were, before his stupidity ruin everything good hime has.

you were laying down in your bed as tears stormed down your face. no matter how much you try to convince yourself it won't work. you still love him, you still crave him but something inside you forbids you for doing anything about it except crying and asking yourself if there was a way everything could be fixed.

suddenly you heard a knock on your door, it was surprising since no one ever came to visit you. you just stop crying for a little before sighing deeply.

you get out of bed as you fix your clothes and whip your tears making sure they're invisible to whoever comes to see you. you look at the mirror one last time before going to answer the door.

as you opened the door you suddenly were hit by the view of Telemachus sitting on one knee with flowers in his hands, you were too shocked to even make a reaction.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry i was an idiot and ruined everything, I'm sorry I didn't mean for this to happen, i was way too stubborn to see anything or to realized I've ruined the best thing that ever happened to me. i don't deserve your forgiveness, not after what I've done, but please im just asking for another chance, i promise I'll do anything for you. i won't be that idiot and loss you again."

he said way too quickly for you to process, you couldn't even believe the view. Telemachus is here, after all these weeks he came to apologize? something in you tells you to shut the door in his face, but something else tells you to forgive him.

Telemachus had his eyes to the ground all the time, he didn't dare to look at you in the eyes, he couldn't. not after everything he's done.

he only lifted his head when he gears the sounds on your soft crying, his head quickly shot up as he saw you, the love of his love crying as her eyes become red and buffy.

"hey hey.. please don't cry please. i was an idiot and I don't deserve your love but please don't cry.." he said as he quickly stood up putting the flowers aside as his hands went to hold your face, whipping your tears slowly.

"you idiot, you dumb asshole, after all these weeks you came now!" you said almost angrily but you made no move to push him away, matter of fact you got closer leaning more into his touch.

"i know i know, i deserve everything you say about me. i was stubborn and let my pride take the better of me, but i couldn't just stand and see the love of my life slipping through my fingers" he said before trapping you into his arms in warm embrace. the warmth you missed.

"i know I'm late but I'm back now, and I'm asking for another chance to fix everything I've ruined, to build something new with you, are you willing to give me it?" he said as he pulled back enough to look into your eyes.

he has a soft smile on his face and his eyes were full of love and care, then you see him again. the man you fall in love with, the man you swear your life to.

"of course i will you fucking idiot, i could never love anyone but you" you said as you pull him back in your arms, holding him tightly as if he would disappear if you let go. he hold you in just as tight.

"i love you too and don't worry, i promise i won't do it again, athena and my mom would have my head if i did it again" he said sarcastically but he meant every word.

you were happier than ever, maybe the gods decided to give your love another chance and you'd make sure not to miss it up like last time. oh you wouldn't let him go, not again, not ever.

[gothamite-rambler]

Damian (curious): Genuine question, what was it like to be a kid back in your day? I want to learn.

Damian blinked, remaining silent and ready for a genuine answer. Dick took a sip from his tea cup then cleared his throat.

Dick: Um, when I wasn't patrolling with Bruce, I’d just spend hours outside, most time until the streetlights came on.

Damian: What? Why?

Dick: I had to make it back home to be Robin. Bruce said I could stay out until the streetlights came on, at least.

Damian (shocked): What?!

Jason: Is it about that time for gen alpha to find out adults like us had unsupervised childhoods?

Tim: Yep, I've been waiting for this.

Bruce (regret in his voice): I should've read the paper in the cave. Something was telling me to and I didn't listen.

Damian: Everybody silence, except Grayson. You… you had the choice to stay out late until the street lights came on?

Dick (wistful tone): Yep, I used to drink hose water sometimes because I didn't want to pay for water at the bodega.

Damian (more shock): Father, you didn't give him a water bottle?

Bruce: To be fair... they didn't have the ones we have today. I'm sticking to that defense.

Damian: Wow. Well, Grayson, what did you do?

Dick (shrugging): Stuff.

Damian (needing to know): What kind of stuff?

Dick: Went to the store, the library. One time, I even took a bus ride around town. Bruce was so mad when I made it back late. Good times.

Dick chuckled, stirring his tea. Bruce tried to sneak away, but Damian yanked him back.

Damian (furrowing his brow in anger): What, specifically, was he mad about? Please elaborate.

Dick: That I was late for patrol, but really, he was worried about my safety. There was this kidnapper in Gotham at the time. We all called him Kenny Kid Snatcher, he would snatch kids and hold them for ransom. Never killed them, that was another guy. Bruce, who was that guy?

Bruce pretended to read the lower page of the newspaper. Dick sensing the tension, looked around confused.

Dick: Did I say something wrong?

Damian (shouting, angry): That’s not fair! I have to ask permission to go out unless it’s for patrols, and I didn’t get to do anything alone in town!

Dick: To be fair, Gotham’s more dangerous nowadays.

Damian: YOU HAD A CHILD KIDNAPPER AND A CHILD KILLER! TWO DIFFERENT PEOPLE HARMING CHILDREN, AND THAT’S IGNORING THE OTHER CRIMINALS YOU DEALT WITH!

Dick: Well, no, it’s not like it was that bad for safety. Bruce always told me not to talk to strangers. That didn’t stop me sometimes. Honestly, that old lady who saved me from a crack dealer kidnapping me was really nice.

Bruce (shaking his head with his eyes closed): Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking. Stop talking.

Damian glared at his father, tapping his foot in frustration. He poked Bruce on the head.

Damian: This is unfair. I’m a trained former assassin, I should be allowed to go out alone! Grayson, you wouldn't let me go out and have the fun you had either! What gives? You lived it!

Dick: Yes, and I wasn't going to let you emulate me. No matter what you say the world isn't safe today. It wasn't back then, but it's less safe now.

Damian: You're lucky you speak in a way where that made sense.

Bruce: I just want to state my parents died so if anyone understands how unsafe the world is, it's me.

Damian: Father.

Bruce: I stand by that defense.

Damian (hands on his hips): What were Jason and Tim doing, huh?

Tim: My parents, may they rest in paradise, pretty much made me a latchkey kid. It wasn’t terrible.

Damian: You became Robin because you were bored, right?

Tim: Yeah, but I was an adventurous kid.

Damian: That’s… fair. I respect that. Jason, what do you have to say for this?

Jason (reminiscing): My life was hard. Stepmom was a drug addict, Dad was a criminal, and that bitch egg donor was a backstabbing rat. Catherine wasn’t a terrible mom, though, she just had a drug problem. I wouldn’t want to live that life again. Honestly, I wish I could’ve saved Cathy from it, too - Anyway, yeah, most of the time, parents like Bruce sucked at parenting.

Damian: I agree.

Dick: Yeah, it was the '80s and '90s and they were the children of suckier parents. Not that Martha and Thomas were bad people Bruce, so relax.

Bruce huffed, refusing to respond.

Tim: I’m pretty sure I was at home for two days when my parents went on a trip to see the Statue of Liberty. That was such a great weekend.

Damian shook his head and headed off to his room without another word.

Bruce: It wasn’t me - they put a warning on the TV! As long as the streetlights weren’t on, they were safe… Alfred taught me the same thing!

Alfred: I’m as old as hell, don’t drag me into this. Where I grew up, we had Jack the Ripper copycats, but we could fight back. Unlike you Americans.

Bruce: I’m Batman! That means something here!

Alfred: You weren’t bloody then! Don’t make me bring up your thumb sucking phase.

Bruce dropped his shoulders and grumbled, returning to reading his newspaper. Damian came back with his backpack filled with art supplies, his kid debit card and Nintendo switch.

Damian (making an annoucment): I’m off to the bus station! I’ll see you before the streetlights turn on tomorrow.

Damian ran off, followed by Dick and Jason, attempting to stop him. Bruce remained seated, Tim raised an eyebrow with a smirk.

Bruce: I’m on a break, and his other dads will punish him.

[fatuismooches]

hello :D

could I request rosehip tea with Dottore? 💙

- Night anon

rosehip tea; how romantic are they? how do they show affection?

Though Dottore’s way of observing the world may be scorned by others, every day he continues to fascinate you. After all, the segments were always the easiest proof to show how much he’s changed for you. Once a grumpy, foolish student who rolled his eyes at the prospects of romance (although he did have his own unconventional ways at the time), he had now certainly become more mature and knowledgeable about the whole thing. After all, as a scholar, it was necessary to observe, adapt, and then take action.

Still, despite his growth in the relationship department, Prime Dottore’s way of romance is… unique, but in a good way.

Zandik’s always been skilled at gift-giving, but with things that seemed to have little to no monetary value. He doesn’t want to admit it, but when he was in the Akademiya, he used to rack his brain on ways to impress you. Sure, you’d always look at him with sparkly eyes and praise him when he spoke for periods of time, but it wasn’t enough for him. His younger self had fallen hard for you, and instead of using his hands to break a dozen pens, he put them to work crafting little knick-knacks for you. Imagine that - instead of getting his hands calloused by working with machines, now he’s pouring energy into carefully arranging a stupid little gift. And oh, how it was worth it. The scholar would have never guessed that sacrificing his precious research time for something like this could feel so nice.

“Awww, Zandik! Did you make this for me? Ah, this must have taken ages! And how did you know this would be something I would like? Ooooh, look at this part!”

“It’s nothing noteworthy,” he cleared his throat and tried to ignore how attentive you were. Somehow, you had managed to always see him.

Of course, his habit had followed him into his later years, although his gifts were now far more impressive (and he no longer sounded like that around you).

You tell him he’s never gifted you flowers like any other lover would. He thinks it’s a rather boring gift, but gives in anyway. The only thing is that instead of simply handing you a bouquet like a regular person, you wake up to a few flower pots, each with a new breed of flower that you’re sure you haven’t seen before, along with a note asking you to select which you prefer. He then has Sigma mass cultivate them in the lab’s greenhouse so that whenever you want flowers, you can simply go and pick his labor of love. Truly so romantic and efficient, it makes you giggle.

You asked him if you could have a pet. He gives you some kind of never-before-seen creature that he conjured up in his lab, is definitely not a regular pet, probably feral, maybe has some secret powers (the last part is purely your theory, to which the Harbinger says is completely wrong). Now, one may ask, how is this romantic if he hates the damn thing and would rather throw it out, clicking his tongue whenever you fawn over it? But there is the answer - he’ll put himself at a disadvantage if it means making you this happy, and to you, that’s romantic.

Dottore’s gifts usually manage to surprise you because they come out of nowhere. You can mention something passively once, forget about it, and one day it appears in front of you. It can be hard to predict him, as oftentimes he seems to think your ideal gifts have no real value, but then he goes and makes it for you anyway. Questioning the scholar will just lead to him casually saying it was a side project in his free time.

Although Dottore seems to have a harsh exterior, he is not averse to praise, as many may think. He uses it sparingly, but that just means that when he praises you, he truly means it, and you are no exception.

“Excellent work. I see that you haven’t dulled in the slightest… not with your mind or smart mouth.”

“You look lovely. Were it up to me, I’d be the only person you could look like that in front of.”

But though praises fall from his lips with ease, when it comes to comforting you, he’s not as flawless. He hesitates and pauses, genuinely not wanting to upset you further, knowing he is a less-than-gentle man, but Zandik tries for you.

“I can see very well that you are trying every day. But you should know that you do not need to do so in front of me… Yes, I mean that. If you think I would ever scorn you of all people, then there must be a failure on my end. Now, come here.”

“Stay here, rest, and tell me if you need anything. No, there is no reason to be ashamed. I am your partner, and I will make sure you are taken care of.”

Something about Dottore is that he doesn’t see his own words and gestures as romantic. He merely sees it as the way to properly treat you. It is nothing special or deserving of any fancy title. Romantic? If you see it that way, he won’t stop you, but he doesn’t really care about it. If anything, how “romantic” he is, is copied from how you used to treat him back at the Akademiya. He is reciprocating the words you once soothed him with, in his own way.

Though his title was given to him ironically, after hundreds of years pursuing his goals, Dottore has gained a great amount of genuine medical knowledge. And with that information, you already know that he’s somehow going to know exactly what’s wrong with you when you’re not feeling your best. This is one thing he always does for you - look out for your health. Even when you two don’t spend much time together, he will suddenly appear, diagnose you, and properly give you treatment before disappearing again (and visiting from time to time). Although it may not seem like much, these little acts of service make it so you don’t push yourself past the brink, and you have someone who’ll actually listen to your symptoms. For someone as busy as the Harbinger, keeping such a watchful eye on you is impressive, and even romantic.

“Ugh… how did you know this would happen?”

“You haven’t been as excited to bother any of us as of late. I’ve also noticed you’ve been retiring to bed earlier than usual, and yet your energy hasn’t returned. Your eyes are far off. I had your favorite meal prepared, and you didn’t finish it. And for once, you’re wincing at the bickering of the segments instead of laughing.”

“And now my next question is, how do you know all of that…?”

“You can theorize about that after you’re better.”

To be more specific, his traits as a scholar naturally bleed into the relationship. Being observant of you is his way of showing affection. Dottore loves watching you. He loves watching every part of you. He loves predicting the way you’d change when something about something that makes you happy or grumpy, and silently chuckling when he gets it right. In fact, when he wants to tease you, he calls you out on it.

His way of affection is learning everything about you, and his end goal is finally doing so, but he knows that this experiment would never end because you always continue to fascinate and excite him. He can observe you for another four hundred years and compile all of those records in detail, and still find the urge to watch you. It’s one of the reasons why even though you two may not always have much time together, he is never bored. You find it romantic and embarrassing.

“You know, if you’re going to stare at me that much, you might as well come over here and show me what you like so much.”

“Oh? Since you’re asking me so kindly, I may as well take you up on your offer. After all, there are only certain things I can see on you if I touch you.”

Dottore doesn’t shy away from your affections. He was especially touch-starved back in the Akademiya, but now he’s much more in control of himself around you. He’ll hum in contentment when you hug him and run your hands under his shirt. He’ll make a noise of appreciation when you pepper him with kisses after a long day. Naturally, he’ll do the same to you. His sinful hands are the best at rubbing your shoulders when you’re tired, and gentle when taking your hand to press a kiss to your knuckles. 

“Does that feel good?”

“Mhm.”

“Do you want me to continue?”

“Mhm…”

“Use your words.”

“Hmph… yes, please. Your hands are so warm.” It’s an odd reality - his body was once as cold as his heart, but now it seemed that both were thawing.

It took a long time to get to this point, but now that you two are here, there’s no going back. Perhaps he’s not the picture-perfect romantic man, but he’s something better.

He’s Zandik, and that’s all you want.

[johnnycadesmuse]

· ˚ ༘ ♡ i'll crawl home to her

— johnny cade x reader

song 𝄞 work song by hozier

warnings: blood, talks of fighting , suggestive if you squint

the sound of crickets chirped outside of your window as you slept softly, dreaming of nothing except an occasional flash of a soft memory that you once lived.

as your body fell in to a deeper and deeper sleep, it took you a while to hear the tapping outside of your window. the crickets could no longer be heard as the sound of tapping got louder and more aggressive, followed by a few whispers of what sounded like somebody saying your name.

you rubbed your eyes, still in a stupor as you climbed out of bed, dragging your feet toward the source of the disruptive noise.

you open your lace curtains to see your boyfriend Johnny sitting on the roof of your garage next to your window, waiting patiently for you to let him in. "hey baby" he smirked at you, climbing into your room after you opened the window a bit more so that he could fit. "you okay? is it your parents" you asked, rubbing your eyes.

it had occurred to him that he had awoken you from your beauty sleep, it had also occurred to him that you had forgotten about him.

after every rumble, instead of going to the Curtis home to get patched up, he would come to you. it became a ritual for the both of you, a moment of shared intimacy as you mended his wounds and kissed them better before snuggling to sleep or talking all night.

he walked over to your bedside table to click on the lamp, basking the room in a soft warm glow, allowing you to see him better. you gasped, putting your hands over your mouth as you realised why he was here.

it's not that you had forgotten your ritual as you knew there was a rumble that he would be attending that night. you had planned to stay up and wait for him, a first aid kit by your bedside as you sat in the dark and allowed time to pass. unfortunately, too much time had passed, causing you to fall asleep. now, as your battered and bruised boyfriend stood before you, an immense wave of guilt washed over you.

"i'm so sorry honey! I fell asleep because I waited-" but before you could finish your ramblings, Johnny cut you off with a passionate kiss, his hand on your waist. he grimaced into the kiss as the cut on his lip was too deep to ignore, but just your lips on his already started to make it feel better.

"it's okay baby, I know you didn't forget. even if you had, it wouldn't matter to me. just as long as i'm here with you." he smiled, cupping your face with your hands.

you placed a kiss on his forehead before leading him to your bed. he sat down on the mattress, unlacing his shoes before placing them at the end of your bedpost. he shrugged his jacket off and threw it on top of his shoes. "you wanna change?" you asked as you got the first aid kit ready, gesturing to the bottom drawer of your dresser where you kept some extra clothes for him.

he nodded, standing up and pulling the drawer open, pulling out a pair of pyjama shorts. he slipped off his clothes, keeping only his boxers on.

after getting changed and adding his clothes to the pile, he sat back down on your bed, waiting for you to finish prepping. "you know..." he began, rubbing his neck, "you don't gotta do all that. i'm fine with just a bandaid or something"

you gave him a look before softly laughing before returning back to your station, dipping your "tools" into alcohol to sterilise them as by the looks of it, Johnny would be needing stitches.

some rumbles were worse than others as some would require a simply cleaning of the knuckles and a bandaid on the cheek, or there were others that were like the ones tonight. those rumbles were brutal, the kind of ones that were messier and rougher. and it seemed to you that Johnny may have gotten the worst of it.

after you finished prepping, you turned back to him to make an examination. you studied his body, seeing that there were a few bruises on his torso that were already started to grow darker. his knuckles were raw, so raw that it made you cringe.

on his face, the damage was worse. his eye was swollen, surrounded by a ring of dark purple, almost black. his cheek was cut open on the other side of his face, though not worse than the cut he got that was now replaced by the scar on the opposite side. his lip was busted open, blood somewhat smudged from your previous display of affection. "okay.." you whispered as you grabbed a cotton pad, soaking it in some alcohol. "you already know this, but it's gonna hurt."

"yeah I know" he said, stroking a hand over your hair as you got on your knees in front of him. you caught him smirking, making you raise an eyebrow.

"what?"

"this kinda reminds me of something" he chuckled, making you slap his chest, causing him to let out a loud hiss in pain.

"sorry baby" you gasped, though he was still smiling. you kissed the spot before returning your attention back to his hands. he made a fist with his hands, allowing you to see all of the cuts and deeper areas. you studied them for a moment before you began to dab the cotton onto his wounds. he groaned in pain, clenching his teeth as well as his knuckles. "I know baby, I know"

after a few hisses and a few more groans, you had finished with his knuckles and moved on to the next thing which was his chest.

"okay baby, you might need to stand for this okay? you think you can?"

"yeah, I ain't disabled." he laughed, making you chuckle. "I think one of my ribs is bruised, maybe I even broke one."

"nah, if you broke one you'd be in a lot more pain." you said as you looked closely at the dark spots. "i'm gonna touch your chest okay?" you informed him and he nodded in response.

after this many sessions of playing doctor, you had learned a lot. you also got to know his body better. certain areas made Johnny flinch or shiver, others made him lean into your touch more. the chest was a grey area as it depended on the damage that had been done. tonight, it was on the more intense side.

as you began to press on his torso where his ribs hid, he cringed at the sensation, but didn't yelp. "okay, I think they're only bruised"

"that's good, yeah?" he asked somewhat nervously.

"well, if you consider having bruised ribs good then, yes."

after wrapping a bandage around his torso, you moved onto his face. "so.." you began as you started to clean his cut. "who won?"

"us" he smirked proudly, "man, it was close though. you know, at one point some Soc tackled me and I thought that I was a goner, but then-" as he recounted moments of glory and others of defeat, you couldn't help but admire your beautiful boyfriend.

you smiled whenever his face lit up in excitement or even when he scrunched his eyebrows in frustration. but the best part of it all was that he was okay, and that he was here with you.

after a few more stories exchanged and more cotton pads used, he was fully mended.

you stood up in front of him, tossing the trash into the bin that was next to your bedside table. Johnny pulled you back into his, his chin on your tummy as he looked at you in adoration. you smiled back down at him, stroking your fingers through his dark hair.

he looked at you mischievously before he slowly lifted up your shirt, laying open mouth kisses all over your stomach.

you giggled at the tickling sensation before straddling his lap. you tucked a stray strand behind his ear as your both stared deeply into one another's eyes. "thank you."

"for what?" you asked confused as the both of you got settled under the covers, your head on his chest.

"for everything."

@avroravia @seilahdiaries @r0seb100d @johnnycadesslut

[fxymi]

heat waves been fakin’ me out

ex! summer fling sae itoshi x reader

tags: masturbation, sprinkles of plot, not a very good writer when it comes to prose n stuff sorry

mid-june.

sae’s bangs, rebelling from their usual held position under the influence of the heat, cling to his forehead. he glances at the view from his window.

the sea mingles with eroded cliffsides, birds flying arrowheads, matching the beat of the dark ocean and wavering, silver, reflection of the moon. foam, like the beer you two had shared that night in the bar on this day last year, bubbles along the shore. sae doesn’t like beer, no matter how cold his glass is or how hot it is outside, but he’d indulged you and against his strict diet, drank around half the pint.

why? he knew he was never going to see you again. you’d only been there for 2 months, to get away from university for the summer, and yet he’d let himself slip from his routine because of you. it’d only been a fling, something purely physical to satisfy and entertain the both of you, but every morning when the beep of his alarm had woken him up and you groaned as it’d disrupted what you called your “indebted sleep”, his heart tightened at the sight of your tousled hair and loud yawn. the same one he told you was impolite and you’d simply snorted and gone back to sleep. but every time you laughed at one of his deadpan jokes, the corners of his mouth twitched ever so slightly.

sae runs a hand down his face, like it’ll erase you from his mind. like it’ll erase every moment you two shared. but it doesn’t work. of course it doesn’t. maybe it’s the weather getting to him, or maybe he’s just lonely and pent up. but either way, he can’t get your pretty face out of his head. there’d never been a moment in the entirety of those 2 months where he’d thought you were anything other than heavenly. even when it rained and your clothes clung to every inch of skin like the memories to this season or your hand on his arm whenever you took walks along the shore, even when you were drenched in sweat from walking in the unforgiving madrid heat, or completely ruined with your back arched, knees digging into his mattress as he pounded your perfect pussy from behind.

sighing, sae sits up, finally tearing his gaze away from his window. without his focus on something else, he’s finally aware of the growing ache between his legs, tenting his boxers. really? all he’d been doing was reminisce and this is all it took to get him semi-hard. how lame.

i have practice tomorrow. i’m not staying up to deal with that.

his eyes flutter shut and he lays back down, a weak attempt at ignoring his problem and preparing to not be a complete zombie tomorrow. but in the dark, his mind still wouldn’t shut up. images of you bouncing up and down on his cock, moaning and whining about how it was too much, in that sweet, sweet voice, flickers through his mind. your hand tugging at his hair when his tongue teased your sopping cunt. the feeling of the warm skin of your waist under his fingers, brows scrunching while he thrusted into you.

despite the coolness of his silk sheets, his entire body is burning and already coated in a faint sheen of sweat from this suffocating summer. a soft grunt escapes him as he lets his hand trail down the waistband of his boxers. fine, his silly thoughts win. but just half-assed strokes until his dick finally decides to calm down so he can finally go to bed.

he pushes his bangs back before lazily palming his length under his shorts. if only it was your mouth teasing him, tongue trailing up his shaft and swirling at his tip. god…and your pretty eyes looking up at him with that playful glint…his brows furrow tighter, the heat throbbing even worse now. who is he kidding? this isn’t going to go down in 2 minutes, he may as well fully sort it out. slowly, he frees his cock and tightens the ring of his fist. he desperately fucks it, soft grunts and pants escaping his lips as his closed eyes let him imagine that it’s your hole taking him, clenching around his cock. he can almost pretend the warmth of his palm, is your sopping cunt, taking him so well. you bite down on your lower lip and dig deeper into his sunburned back, leaving crescents and scratches.

did you think about him like this too? did you rub your aching, soaked, clit to the memory of sae inside of you last summer? did you grip your sheets as you came, wishing it was sae delivering your orgasm instead?

“fuck—so tight,” he groans into the quiet of his room, picking up the pace. “want—need you so bad.”

his cock throbs in his hand as a breeze flirts with his magenta hair and he gets to pretend it’s your ragged breath beside his ear. saline beads form along his hairline and roll down his neck and forehead the faster he pumps his length and the more his fore tightens until he comes. blearily, he opens his eyes and looks at the thick, hot, fluid beginning to drip out of his still-hard cock and to his knuckles. he doesn’t wipe his cum off and just continues touching himself to the memory and ache of last summer—mid june.

[sushirrrry]

FRONTLINES: COMING HOME || a part two of a harry styles x original character story.

full story, tomorrow.

summary: after being discharged from the hospital, Harry returns to Manchester haunted by the war but grounded by the letters and quiet devotion of Clare, the nurse who helped piece him back together. their relationship, born from each reunion that they hold so dear to themselves until they're able to see each other again—until their longing becomes impossible to deny, and love replaces what war tried to destroy.

READ "FRONTLINES" HERE.

_______________________________________________

May, 1943 - 3 Weeks After London - Manchester

The house had a hush to it that still startled him.

No men shouting over static radios, no bombs whistling from above or below or side to side, no engines humming like angry ghosts in the sky through clouds that wouldn’t give up. Only the sound of the kettle clicking off, the tick of the hallway clock, and his pencil scratching softly against paper in the front room as he viciously wrote.

He sat, half-curled sideways in the armchair by the window, blanket wrapped over one shoulder, letter perched on his knee. A candle flickered nearby, though the overhead light had long since been switched off. He preferred the quiet and the dim when he thought about writing to Clare.

Clare’s most recent letter rested on the arm of the chair; folded, unfolded, and folded again so many times the crease was near worn through.

Harry smiled faintly as he reread the way she’d described how her flat felt without him there — tiny, drafty, and full of too many books. Said she couldn’t look at a cup of tea lately without thinking of how he always asked for a second.

He didn’t even like tea that much. But she always brought it to him in a good mug.

He was in the middle of writing a sentence — I think about that night at the bar more than I should — when the hallway floor creaked.

His sister’s voice floated into the room like an announcement, amused and matter-of-fact: “It’s well past midnight, you know.”

Harry blinked up at her, not wanting to ignore her but always needing to get his thoughts down. Nora stood leaning in the doorway in her dressing gown, arms folded. Her dark hair, always too curly for its own good, was tied up in a loose braid against her back, and she gave him a look only older sisters could manage: part concern, part accusation, and mostly curiosity.

“Mum’s noticed,” she added, crossing her arms as she made her way over, “You’re hardly sleeping. Or when you do, it’s in that chair.”

Harry gave a low sigh, set the letter aside. “Just writing, Nor.”

“Every night?” She asked, a bit pushy in trying to get information from him. He already was quiet, but then he went to war. That changed him more than he’d like to admit; now, he was just secretive, like the one thing that he wanted for himself was just sitting between his own fingertips.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve got time to make up for, that’s all. Mum doesn’t need to worry.”

Nora’s eyes narrowed. She stepped further into the room, picked up the letter on the arm of the chair and glanced at the handwriting.

“Clare,” she read aloud, smiling as Harry tried to grab the letter back from her; a flush over his cheeks remembers words she mentioned, really only for his eyes. “So, this is why you can’t sleep, then.”

“Don’t start now.” Harry mumbled under his breath.

“Oh, come on. You’re out here smiling at her letters like some daft schoolboy. You’ve read that one a dozen times.”

“Eleven,” Harry muttered, earning a sharp jab to the shoulder.

“I knew something was going on. You’ve been out in the garden scribbling into the wind like you’re composing poetry.”

“I’m not writing poetry,” he said, a bit defensive. “I’m writing back. And she’s not just — she’s not…”

He trailed off, unsure of how to say what he meant. He wasn’t sure how to explain that in a time where everything had been stripped down to survival, Clare had shown up and seen him — not as a soldier, not as a body to medicate and stitch up, but as a man still holding his own guilt and softness in trembling hands.

Nora softened as she handed him back the letter. “You really like her.”

Harry nodded, voice low and raspy then. “She made it bearable in there. And it was never supposed to be more than talk to pass the hours spent in that hospital bed. But—”

“But now you’re smiling at paper like a lunatic,” she teased, cutting him off. Nora sat down on the armrest beside him, “Does Mum know?”

“She’s only asked if it was a girl I was writing," Harry licked his lips, "I didn’t answer.”

“She told me she hopes she’s pretty.”

Harry huffed a soft laugh. “She is. Beautiful. In that way where you don’t see it all at once—it’s hard to describe, but she’s one of a kind, I think.”

“My God, listen to you.” Nora nudged his shoulder. “You are writing poetry.”

[thewitchblue]

"You have to stop DOING this."

Tim whined, rubbing the side of his head as an indecipherable wall of thought slammed into his brain. You entered his mind accidentally, and now you can't get out. It was incredibly distracting to both of you.

All his thoughts are mixed with yours as you struggle to gatekeep your thoughts from his own in your panicked state. It's giving him a migraine. You sighed, trying to separate your minds into two once more. It is beneficial during patrol, but it's not beneficial when you may be stuck with him forever.

"It's SO not my fault. You were the one who thought it was a good idea to scare me. You had a knife to my throat! It was self-preservation to slam into your mind and hijack it."

Tim groaned as you slammed another wall of thought at him out of spite. He found your powers insanely cool, yet indescribably terrifying. He didn't want the psychological warfare turned on him!

Crime has been down since word of you moving to the city had spread. Criminals are terrified to commit crimes because of the chance that you might hijack their minds instead of just beat them up. Their memories aren't safe, and it makes information gathering significantly easier for everybody that is on your side. It was terrifying to everybody involved, actually, but you were very, very efficient in your job as a vigilante.

Tim winced. The veil between his thoughts and yours was uncomfortably thin and basically see-through. What if he thought about something too hard? His brain is constantly thinking about new things and analysing everything.

You groaned quietly. It was so annoying to use your powers outside of vigilante work. A small part of you was happy to see him suffer for scaring you, but the majority of you was busy guarding your mind against his own. He can't know what you think about him, and you refuse to see what he thinks of you.

"Stop thinking so hard."

You grumbled when his racing thoughts slammed into your mind. He's making it impossible to focus on separating him from you. He tried to keep his mind blank, but you made it impossible. His mind was so fuzzy with you so close to him, and he can't tell if it's the magic or just his general feelings for you.

You stilled and looked at him with a stunned expression. Did he think about it too hard? He was about to apologise until you trickled in your own feelings for him. He tensed and stared at you, equally surprised and downright baffled about how both of you missed it. It was obvious now that he was looking back on all of his previous interactions with you, but he was too wrapped up in other thoughts to consider how closely you watched him or how obvious you were being. Did you start believing he was ignoring the signs, or were you equally oblivious? You seemed to have been monitoring him closely for a very long time.

Slowly and tentatively, you merged your mind fully with his own, giving him plenty of time to say no to the merging. You had never been this vulnerable before, but you felt it was necessary to get on the same page. His memories blended into yours until it was all one.

The others watched in confusion as several conversations seemed to be taking place between you both. You had approached Tim like he's a wild animal and rested your forehead against his own. Both of you had your eyes closed, seeming to simply be connecting.

"What do you think kid genius is thinking about?"

Jason asked. He was intrigued but tried to appear like he didn't care as much as he did. If he was going to lose his brother, at least say something! Stop with this creepy behaviour!

"They are trying to become two again, Jay. Don't forget that this is your fault."

Dick said with clear amusement. He's used to his younger brother's false indifference. He wanted to know what was racing between you two equally as badly, and Dick was going to have a long and thorough conversation with you both when you finally separate.

"It is not. Einstein over there didn't have to accept the dare."

Jason tried to defend himself. You gave Jason a baleful glare that left him grumbling. That was his cue to shut up for you to concentrate. Dick gave him an amused smile that made Jason want to hit him. He shot a lethal glare but remained silent. He doesn't need to join the mix of minds.

Dick was monitoring you closely. It was worrisome to see you disconnect from someone so slowly, and there was something terrifying about being unable to see it physically happening. What did you see in there that you needed to talk about privately? He felt clueless, and it made him anxious.

He should be used to this. He sees it every night. He knows you are phenomenal at keeping everybody's thoughts private while allowing them to speak freely between their minds. You were almost flawless in keeping everybody held together, yet keep their autonomy from each other.

Every embarrassing moment, every secret, every fear, it was all protected by one filter. You. It was horrifying, but it felt safe because you were reliable, and you had complete control over your powers. This is the first time you have ever lost control while around them.

Yours and Tim's eyes opened at the same time. Both of you slid your hands together in unison. Upon seeing the confused look the others gave you both, you explained softly,

"Tim wanted to keep our minds joined."

Tim nodded to confirm his decision. Nobody knew what to say as a loud silence echoed through the BatCave. The couple had decided together that they are better merged, and this way, nobody is going to get in the way of your relationship. Bruce spoke first. He stared Tim down and asked firmly,

"Are you certain, Tim?"

Tim lightly squeezed your hand and nodded. He wanted this, and nothing would change his mind. Bruce knew as much, so he nodded his approval and let it be. Tim had likely thought about every possible negative consequence already and talked about it with you. The pros seemed to outweigh the cons he had come up, so Bruce approved. Bruce found peace in knowing that you would separate from his mind whenever he wanted.

You lightly kissed Tim's hand before dropping it in favour of wrapping an arm around him. He was content in your arms, and that was enough for you. He would let you know otherwise. His thoughts were loud, but you both were already getting used to the noise. His thoughts freely floated through your head like a singing harmony.

You didn't even have to voice what you want from him anymore. You gave him a teasing smile while thinking towards him,

"We could kiss and give them a heart attack."

Tim shook his head with a smile. Oh, so it's going to be like that then. Tim can be evil, too. You gave him a confused look until Tim dragged you into a kiss that was monumental throughout everybody's lives.

You have Tim in every way now, and he seemed perfectly content with it. The brothers all turned their eyes to Bruce for any guidance on how to handle this new information, but Bruce was smiling with a clear adoration on his face. His beautiful children are finding their love. Tim was closer than married now, and Bruce was a softie for them all. Alfred spoke first, formally and warmly,

"Welcome to the family, my dear."

You turned your gaze to the quiet butler and smiled softly. He was smiling, as warm and welcoming as the day you first showed up in their lives.

Well, this was a lovely afternoon. You may not be married, but you didn't have to be. No other couple will ever achieve this level of intimacy. You found your home within the walls of Wayne manor.

[lil--ichigo]

Ranting about the mercs fanon portrayals

Scout - A loser virgin who does not know what sex is. Forget that he ends up with four kids in the comics, forget the thing with him and fried chicken girl. I agree scout has trouble with long term stuff and has a superiority inferiority complex but I've seen portrayals where he flat out does not realize characters make dirty jokes. In general they always make him act like a chronically online secretly insecure, depressed gen z teen when he's a grown ass man. He's old enough to drink and smoke. He's allowed to have horny thoughts.

Soldier - They always make him either really dumb and racist despite having a russian wife and being friends with demo or super progressive despite him hating hippies and the counter culture of the time. He says a lot of bigoted stuff but he's not racist, just ignorant. Tbh soldier's character is all over the place so I can't really say if he's stupid or smarter than he looks.

Pyro - Is heavily infanitlized like scout. People think cause of pyroland is mentally a child (which they are not) and can't have relationships which is hella ableist tbh. I'm an autistic adult who can do childish things and likes plushies but I have a boyfriend. Pyro is mentally capable enough to run a company, they can be in a relationship and do other stuff.

Engineer - Either a sweet precious angel or a deranged man with a god complex who can't take care of himself. Yes, engie refers to himself as a god, but sniper also does in one of his voicelines. But nobody is going around saying sniper has a god complex. Is Dell not all there moralwise and in the head? Yes. But people forget this man is from Texas. Man probably loves a good meal and canonically likes beer and barbecue. He has a taunt that's literally him lounging in a chair, he likes to take things slow. Work smarter, not harder. Overall I don't think he sees the point of making enemies but he's also a two faced mf who will absolutely fuck you over if you get on his bad side, but people make him a total angel or completely irredemable.

Demoman - Either completely ignored or just reduced to haha funny drunk man jokes (or worse, racist jokes). People also make him wayyy dumber than he actually is. Man has knowledge of chemistry and people rarely bring that up.

Heavy - I think people make heavy too soft. Yeah he cares for his family but people downplay his unhinged side. He's a mercenary for a reason. But overall from what I've seen I think he's suffered the least from fanon bastardization (probably cause he doesnt have many fans depsite being the face of tf2, heavy fans where you guys at) although I don't read much stuff with him in it so maybe heavy simps may think otherwise.

Medic - Apparently all his experiments are consensual despite the comics proving otherwise. Medic is not a good person, experiments on the team just because he can, not for the betterment of them. He's not a very moral person. It's okay to make him evil and a sadist guys, nobody is gonna think you support putting baboon organs into people. (btw im not defending the people who make him like a nazi or pdf, even awful people can have some morals. If he was a nazi soldier would not at all take kindly to it)

Spy - Not sure about him cause I'm not a spy fan really but if any of you guys want to ramble about spy be my guest. I guess him being uncharacteristically fatherly to scout?

Sniper - Feral man who never showers and is clingy. I have no idea where this sniper is clingy and hates to be alone in a relationship comes from cause everything we see from him implies the opposite. As a mostly touch averse person we need more touch averse sniper. He doesn't like being emotional because he thinks being emotional causes people to do awful things. And yeah he's not the most reliable narrator but in the comics he mentions how he doesn't like to make his targets suffer, he enjoys the thrill of killing as cleanly as he can, getting the perfect headshot. Also I doubt he's a clean freak but people make this man out to be a walking biohazard when poor hygine can actually be bad for his job. I mean yeah he pisses in jars but where else is he gonna go when he's up in a post for hours. Btw him being introverted doesn't mean he doesn't enjoy doing stuff with the team.

[thequietkid-moonie]

Always you but never the same

[ ONE-SHOT ] [ Malleus Draconia ]

[ Twisted Wonderland ]

× Reader is a world-traveler

× Implayed that reader is Yuu

i am obsessed with the idea of a world-traveler and the version of another universe of people so now you have to beare with me, please?

Back in your home the idea of traveling worlds wasn't something of simple fiction, it was a reality, but it was so common that it wasn't even important anymore, those who were truly interested were the ones who dedicate their lives to travel across worlds. As for you, you never took the idea too serious, not until you lost everything

A group of greedy man with the emblem of a dragon were trying to take over the control of the world, leaded by a sadistic man that just wanted to turn everything into ashes in the name of his kind, Malleus Draconia. The group wanted to gather as much power as they could and you happened to just be colateral damage of this war, you lost everything and just by being a survivor you have put a target in your back, chaised by the sadistic man who wanted to see everything destroyed. At the end running away from your homeland and become a world traveler was more like the emergency plan, you just wanted to survive and one of the only friends you still had have dragged you into this, and that was the last time you were in your world

You wandered in diferent worlds in hopes to find another one to call home, learning everything you could and being amazed by everything this vast universe have to offer, but finding a home was harder than expected, after all there were times you left the world you were in because you found that man again. There was the rumor between the world-travelers about how you could find another versions of yourselfs and the people you know in other worlds, it wasn't as rare as you may think but still sounded like out of a fairy tail, until one day while visisting a new world you catched a glimpse of the man that have destroyed everything you had, the person who have sweared to take down the survivors for pure fun

You wanted to run away, to hide, or at least to find anything you could use to defend yourself with, but to your surprise the man simply walked pass you, completely ignoring your existance, it was almost amusing to think about the posibility that there was a version of the man that was taking over your world that was would be so calm, he was walking with elegance and a calm demanour, not bothering anyone, even so you decided to leave this world and try your luck in other

It happened a few more times, you visited a lot of other worlds but non of them felt like home, and everytime you met him again you left as quick as posible, you managed to see some kind of patron in here, all the versions of you and him were either completely strangers that neven bother to look in the direction of the other or you were enemies, you saw versions of you two who just looked at the other with hate and disgust while other versions that were going directly to the other's throat (you will not forget that time when one version of Malleus almost killed you for being in the wrong place at the wrong time, thinking that it would finally get rid off the version of you of this world)

That was until you found yourself in Twisted Wonderland, this was definetly not your most disastrous way to get enter in a new world but you have never been accidently enrolled in a school, but since Grim was now part of the deal and he was accepted in school because it was with you now you couldn't simply back off, so you stayed

You tried to just go with your new life in this new world the best you could, trying to get used to Ramshackle dorm when one day you saw him, something was happening outside of the dorm and you went to investigate when you saw him, in this world there was a version of Malleus too

You wanted to run away and hide, you didn't knew what kind of relasionship you had with him (if a version of you even existed in this world), but before you could do anything he noticed you, he was not strange of the scared look you were giving him, this wasn't the first nor the last time he would be seen like this, so he simply disapeared

Maybe it was destiny, or just the fact that you were one of the unluckiest person in the universe, but after that first encounter you two were constantly meeting around the school, in the hallways, outside of Ramshackle, at night when he was having night walks, somehow you two found your way to each other, and everytime you freeze and just stare at him, as if you were scared of making the first move, and Malleus didn't wanted to make you uncomfortable so everytime he simply went away without saying anything

It was just as weird as the first time you met another version of him, but, of course, you couldn't deny that this wasn't like the Malleus that destroyed your home and took everything away from you, this man look more polite and even more kind, and somewhat hurt. At the end, for the sake of your peace on the time you still have to spend in this world you decided to do something you have never thought you would do

One day while walking at night you found him once again, he looked so happy and peaceful, distracted by a gargoyle that was in top in one of the buldings, and you just stared at him, this time you didn't prepared to run away nor tried to read his movement in case he wanted to attack you, you just swallowed your anxiety and started to walk towards him

The moment he noticed your presence Malleus frowned, he was so used to leave whenever you were nearby for the best of both, but this time you looked diferent, scared as always but somehow also determinated, he was debating with himself about what to do when you interrupted his thoughts, nervously you took a step closer and suttering you introduced yourself, you were clearly nervous but for the first time you didn't freeze in his presence, you were determinated to have a conversation with him for once and he couldn't help but laugh for your brave boldness, a quite intimidating laugh but a genuine and soft one, and, for respect, he indulged you and continue the conversation

This was just a small step, in the back of your mind there still was the memory of the man that have destroyed everything you knew and loved, your mind reminded you all those worlds where the other versions of you two live, all those versions who hate each other to death, and yet you simply took a deep breath and with clenched fists you decided to cling to the hope that maybe, just maybe, in this world the story could be diferent

[dioslesbianwife]

Hellooo

I've been a fan of your works for a long time and I'm so glad you are just as brainrotted about jojo as me

May I request jofoes trying a period cramps simulator? (With all of the pillarmen please 🙏)

And let's ignore that like half of them wouldn't go/ would pretend they don't feel anything lol

hahaha absolutely- they all deserve to know the pain of menstruation 😭 hope you enjoy and thank u for requesting ^^

Dio

Arrogant as hell walking in.

“Foolish mortal technology. Nothing can best DIO.”

LITERALLY starts screaming like a Victorian maiden. Collapses off the chair.

Clutches his stomach and blames the Joestars.

Tries to obliterate the machine like it’s an enemy Stand.

Still insists it was “not that bad” while clearly trembling and sweating.

Kars

"I am the Ultimate Life Form. This will be nothing.”

…Five seconds in he’s folded like laundry on the floor, whimpering.

Growls out:

“I would rather return to space…”

Gets up, breaks the machine, and walks out silently. No one speaks of it again.

Wamuu

Actually tries to be stoic and respectful about it.

Breathes through it like a soldier.

Face goes red, eyes watery, but he clenches his jaw and says:

“This… this is worthy pain.”

Doesn’t cry, but you can find him lying face down later whispering “How do women survive this…”

Esidisi

Drama. Drama. DRAMA.

As soon as it starts, he starts sobbing.

Screams “WHY IS THIS ALLOWED” and does his dramatic cry thing.

Literally rolls on the floor like a soccer player faking an injury.

Takes off his shirt. No one knows why. He’s just too hot and bothered by the pain.

Santana

Doesn’t even understand what’s going on.

Pokes at the wires. Tilts his head. Confused puppy energy.

When the pain starts he makes one long groaning sound and just slides off the chair like jelly.

Learns what human suffering is for the first time and never looks you in the eye again.

Yoshikage Kira

Hates this idea. HATES it. Claims it’s “undignified.”

But he figures he can handle it like “Fine. I’m not weak.”

Fifteen seconds in:

“Okay that’s enough. Turn it off. Turn it OFF- ”

Crosses his legs and clutches his stomach like he’s about to die.

Tries to explode the machine out of pure spite.

Diavolo

"I am the King. I do not feel pain.”

LMAOOOOOO he cries.

“MAKE IT STOP!! WHY IS THIS EVEN LEGAL??”

Tries to skip time just to avoid feeling the worst wave.

Literally has to switch with Doppio halfway through.

Doppio's like “Oh okay! This is for science!! I can do it!! :D”

The moment it starts: “boss… Boss something’s wrong… I think I’m dying…”

Also cries.

Enrico Pucci

Acts unbothered. Tries to monologue about Heaven through the pain.

Eventually stops mid-sentence and clenches the arm of the chair, breath hitching.

“God… give me strength…”

When it hits level 10, he quotes scripture and lowkey passes out.

Later:

“Women are stronger than I gave them credit for… I will add that to my sermons.”

Diego Brando

Talks so much shit beforehand.

“Please, I’ve been kicked in the gut by a horse before. You think this scares me?”

Screams. Immediately.

Starts bucking like a bull. Curses you out through his tears.

His tail twitches violently.

“Y-you witch!! This is psychological warfare!!”

Funny Valentine

Absolutely assumes he can handle it.

Puts it on with a calm nod and says “For America.”

Ten seconds in: “I rescind that statement.”

Taps out like a WWE fighter. Has to use D4C to switch with an alternate version of himself who’s “less of a coward.”

Still walks away with a hand over his gut, mumbling:

“No wonder our nation is in shambles… We’ve been underestimating this the entire time…”

Tooru

“Aww, this little thing? Looks fake. I bet it’s not even that bad~”

Instantly yelps. Tries to play it off, then starts sweating buckets.

Keeps fake-smiling through the pain. “Haha, you’re recording this? Haha… Cool…”

At level 10, he straight-up sobs and curls into a ball muttering:

“Fucking…shit.”

[clonetrooperjournals]

Date Night

Summary: Your best friend has concerns about you going on a date and takes matters into his own hands... Pairings: Marshal Commander Cody x Fem!reader (Bisexual reader) Warnings: fluff, slight angst, unwanted touching, date is a jerk, cute ending Words: 1.7k A/N: Okay I know I say this every time but honestly this may be one of my favourites I've written! I laughed so hard writing this and I can literally see the interactions between all the characters! Also its not Pride month in the star wars fandom if we don't sprinkle in some CodyWan! Pride Masterlist here Main masterlist here

“Will you please pick one already! My date is in like three hours, and I have to get ready!”  

You stand inside the 212 barracks holding up two completely different dresses as Cody stands across from you silently judging each garment. He chuckles at your exasperated state, “show me the blue one...” 

You hold the blue one up against your frame, watching Cody as he rakes his eyes over you giving you goosebumps, “So? Winner?” 

“Now the red again...” he says, and you sigh holding the red dress to your frame. Honestly you were already leaning towards the red dress anyway, it was tight and strappy and showed your cleavage without being too revealing, but you wanted Cody’s opinion, you trusted his opinion more than your own, but at this rate you’ll take any man's opinion with the way Cody’s been acting.  

Fives and Rex walk by the barrack doors and stop when they see you standing there with a red dress held up against your body and a judging look on your face. Fives being himself whistles loudly making you laugh, “kriffin hell please tell me it's my lucky day and you're finally agreeing to a date with me!” 

You laugh and Cody walks over to you standing in front of you to block his view, “Keep walking Fives.” 

“Your no fun Commander. You can’t hog her forever. Give us a chance!” he says as Rex drags him away with an apologetic look.  

“Please ignore him... but I would go with the red dress....” Rex says with blushing cheeks as he continues to pull Fives away.  

Cody sighs and turns around, “Their right. The red is perfect. I just wish you weren’t wasting it on this di’kut you barely know...” 

“That’s what a date is Cody. How am I ever supposed to put myself back out there if your gonna make a fuss every time I go on a date hmm?” you question him as you poke his chest plate playfully.  

He sighs smiling as he grabs your hand gently, “I just don’t want to see you hurt again after your breakup with your ex-girlfriend.” 

You sigh and smile at this sweet man in front of you. Nobody would have thought that a lower-level administrations officer would be best friends with the Marshal commander of the 212th but here you two were, a year into the war, bickering about a date like it was the most casual thing in the world, and for you two it was.  

The two of you just clicked in a way that you can’t describe to most people, Cody is just your person. He’s thoughtful and kind, selfless and loyal, a bit of a hardass but you don’t mind that about him and he knows how to read people. He is typically a quiet man and tends to observe more than speak but that's what makes you two work so well, where you like to talk, he likes to listen. Most people assume you two like each other but even though you think Cody is a wonderful man, incredibly attractive, and would be the perfect partner, you don’t think you could be the perfect partner for him. You’re too much of a mess, especially after your ex-girlfriend took all your self-confidence and shoved it down a trash shoot.   

“Red it is...” you say squeezing his hand gently, “I gotta go get ready.”  

He brushes away a hair from your face with a sigh, “You have your comm? And the stun gun I gave you?”  

“Yes commander.” you roll your eyes at him and his protective nature.  

He chuckles and backs up letting you go, “Alright. Go and have fun. But if you need me, I’m one comm away.”  

“I know.” 

... 

 You’ll never tell Cody that he was right, this guy is a di’kut.  

The both of you sat in a slightly fancier restaurant on the higher levels of Coruscant. You felt good when you first arrived, your dress hugged you in all the right ways, you curled your hair and put on lip gloss, and then your date came up to you and you instantly wanted to leave. This man hasn’t stopped staring at your chest since the moment you two sat down. He’s been talking about his job, his family, his life, you don’t think you’ve gotten five words in since the start of the date.  

You sigh listening to this man spew more about himself as you down the rest of the wine in your glass. Your waiter comes over, “More miss?”  

“Please.” you nod.  

“And then when the business did finally take off, we were able to build some of the most memorable buildings in all Coruscant! Haha!” he says smugly leaning towards you looking down your dress, “What is it you said you did again...?” 

You ignore the repulsed shiver that rips through you, “I work in administrations for the GAR.”  

“Hmm that's an okay job. Not much of a career but hey we can’t all be successful or else we’d all be doing it eh!” he laughs as he tries to grab your hand to which you lean back and grab your wine glass instead, ignoring his irritated look.  

You take a sip of wine looking at the other tables of people who were probably having a much better evening then you, when you lock eyes on a familiar set of amber ones, and you start choking. Your date leans forward again, his tie dipping into his plate, “You okay?”  

You smack your chest exasperated as you stare directly at Cody with his sheepish expression, “I’m fine!”  

What the hell was he doing here? And is that General Kenobi with him? What the hell is he doing on a date with him? You give him a glare and then stand up abruptly looking at your date, “I need to use the fresher. Be right back.” Then you walk away without waiting for his reply.  

... 

If these freshers had windows, you would absolutely jump out of it right now. You wash your hands and head out into the hallway where you know Cody would be waiting for you and your wrath. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking ruggedly handsome and annoying, “So you’re dating Jedi now? How taboo of you...” 

His cheeks go bright red, “That’s not- It's not what it looks like!”  

“mmhhmm sure it is. I swear to the force Cody if you say you came here on a fake date with General Kenobi to check on me, I will get him to choke you using the force and NOT in the kinky way!” you ramble angrily.  

His cheeks are even brighter, but he chuckles at your antics, “To be fair, it was the general's idea...” 

“That makes it worse!” you step right up to him poking his chest plate, “I told you I would be fine.”  

He sighs stroking your cheek, “I know you would be, but I can also tell that you're not having a good time.” 

“Of course I’m not! He hasn’t made eye contact with me once, just my chest! He has been talking about his family's business for the last hour, and he told me my job was a hobby and not a career. Now to top it all off you and General Kenobi are on a seemingly better date than me while watching it all unfold! If there were open windows in this kriffin place I WOULD HAVE jumped already!”  

He pulls you into a hug, laughing, “How about you leave the date? And I’ll convince the general to take us for ice cream?”  

“I want a whole tub of ice cream...” you sigh defeatedly.  

He leans back looking down at you with his beautiful Cody smile, “deal.” 

... 

You head back to your date and Cody back to his, General Kenobi turns around and gives you a grin and a nod. You nod back chuckling at the absurdity of it all and sit in your chair across from your date. “Took you long enough, I thought I would have to go and find you so I can... bring you back to mine....” 

“Absolutely not.” you say standing up, “I’m going to leave. We are not compatible, sorry for wasting your time.”  

You grab your bag and as you turn, he grabs your wrist hard, “Oh I don’t think so sweetheart. I don’t care what you think I am still taking you back to mine.” 

Just as you were about to pull out your stun gun Cody appears behind the guy slapping a hand on his shoulder making him jump, “I suggest you let her go.” 

“Oh who's this now? You called in back up? Low blow sweetheart.” he says looking Cody up and down with disgust, “You clones don’t scare me.” 

Then General Kenobi comes up from the other side, “Then clearly the soldiers you’ve encountered have been too accommodating to your behavior. Sadly, for you my commander here does not take kindly to trashy men in cheap suits.” 

Cody stares down at the guy's hand on your wrist with a death glare, his hand on his blaster, and slowly the guy looks down sheepishly, releasing your hand, “Thats what I thought.”  

The three of you file out of the restaurant and you take your heels off walking barefoot down the street with the Jedi and his commander, “Thank you... for helping back there.” 

General Kenobi smiles at you taking your heels, carrying them for you, “I have no doubt that you could have handled it on your own.”  

“You’re right but I still appreciate it General.” you say smiling at him, and then you turn to Cody, “and you Mr. Commander, don’t think you're not in trouble!” 

He laughs rubbing the back of his neck, “I figured I wasn’t...” 

“I was the one who suggested a casual dinner recon when Cody here couldn’t calm his nerves about your safety.” General Kenobi says sincerely. 

You grin, “You’re both in trouble actually!” 

“What in the galaxy for?” Kenobi asks flustered.  

You roll your eyes, “For spying on me, having a better date than me, and coming into a swift handsome rescue when I could have taken care of it. For your crimes against my dignity you are both sentenced to buying me a tub of ice cream each!” 

“It was not a date, it was recon.” Cody says flustered.  

You grab both of their shoulders, the three of you walking together into the night, “Sure it wasn’t.”        

dividers by @saradika-graphics

Hate and/or Discrimination will NOT BE TOLERATED

[salternateunreality2]

Sephiroth gets dragged to a county fair, full of dubiously 'safe' rides, questionably 'nutritious' snacks, and absolutely rigged carnival games.

What is is favorite/least favorite part?

Angeal and Genesis promised him a good time, and he had heard of such fairs before. It was all a little much: loud, smelly, clearly rigged, hot...but enjoyable enough with friends. He had friends. Two good friends, and their human puppy, who he was slowly growing more fond of by the day. Speaking of the puppy, his jokes about owning the event did wear thin after an entire day, but he was so... enthusiastic, that it made up for it.

Sephiroth HATED the goldfish booth. Those little creatures were cramped in tiny plastic boxes, hot in the sun and lacking any kind of safe haven or quality food. He may have threatened the stall owner, the fair staff, the director, the county, and the state about having animal torture as an attraction. He may have also adopted 219 fish, which were currently being shipped to his home along with all the equipment necessary to give them happy lives.

He enjoyed the rides he could fit on, though that number was limited due to his towering height. The feeling of flying was freeing and soothing, and after years of friendship, he could tune out Genesis' screaming.

He DEVOURED every snack he could find. The others kept pace, Angeal allowing Genesis to buy snacks, take a few bites, then hand the rest off to Zack and Angeal. Turkey legs, deep fried ice cream, funnel cake, fried tomato margaritas, anything.

The Weiner dog races initially had him on the warpath to save more abused animals, but watching the families with their tiny chaotic sausages cooled his wrath, and he enjoyed himself. The livestock competitions followed the same trend when he saw that the beasts were handled with care and respect.

He also enjoyed foiling the rigged games and watching Genesis rage at them.

He was looking forward to riding the ferris wheel when he found his absolute favorite part of the fair.

A tiny blonde man with spiky hair and blue coveralls stood in front of the ferris wheel, yelling.

"IT'S NOT SAFE!"

He had smudges of grease all over him, including a particularly dark smudge on his cheek. A red rag hung from his pocket and he wielded a wrench the size of Sephiroth's forearm.

"You let people on this ride and they'll die. Maybe not the first time, maybe not the second, but this pile of shit is on its last legs and you're risking everything for a quick buck. I fucking DARE you to fire me. Get me arrested. But no way in HELL is anyone getting on that thing!"

Sephiroth had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

"Fine, you're fired, now scram!"

"Fuck you."

Sephiroth's "most beautiful" image was now being replaced by the sight of the blonde vaulting over the short fence around the ferris wheel, running up to the massive metal beast, and whacking it repeatedly with his absurd wrench. Sephiroth watched, lips parted, as the man swung with power and conviction, ring after ring of metal on metal assaulting his ears.

A crowd formed, muttering as the manager called for security and the cops.

"What an idiot," scoffed Genesis. "He's going to get arrested! He looks like he can't afford this at all, poor thing. Clearly has lost his mind, that ride is as sturdy as anything."

"No," said Sephiroth, and did not elaborate as Zack and Angeal fretted, tried to keep people back, and talked to the manager.

Sephiroth's eyes focused on every ping of the wrench and clunk of the metal, on every full-bodied swing the blonde man put in, his fighter's build clearly present despite the coveralls swallowing him up.

The police arrived. They yelled at him to stop, that he was destroying property and it would be better to come quietly. The blonde ignored them and swung one final time.

BOOM!

The wind as the structure collapsed in on itself from the top down was far more refreshing than any Sephiroth had felt that day on the rides. The taste of the blonde's sweat in the air was more delicious than any fried mystery meat. The roar of the crowd's shock was sweeter than the cheers at the sausage dog race.

Then the blonde, who had jumped back over the safety fence at the last second, threw his wrench at the manager's feet.

"Arrest me, bitch."

Sephiroth decided then and there that the rest of his day would be spent following this man to the police station or anywhere he would go, the rest of his week would be spent trying to learn his name and number, and the rest of his life would be spent in adoration.

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 101: Fitzwilliam's Needs

Previous > Masterlist

tw: mind control, blood drinking, aftermath of extreme abuse, memories of gore

December 1905

With Mr. Alexander pulling him along, it wasn't very long until they reached a brownstone with shuttered windows. Mr. Alexander knocked, and the door opened to reveal a cozy looking entranceway, filled with knick knacks and ornaments and lit by quite a few gas lamps.

"Oh, there he is." A young woman in a stylish housecoat welcomed them into the house, practically ignoring Mr. Alexander in favor of cupping Fitzwilliam's cheeks. "Oh, dear, you've been through it, haven't you?"

Fitzwilliam swallowed hard. Something about her made him want to simply spill all his woes out. But her cold hands marked her as a vampire, and Fitzwilliam didn't know how dangerous she might be. "It hasn't been much, sir," he murmured.

She scowled. "Is that what our sire taught you to say? He likes to pretend his torture is training, and punish you if you aren't grateful for being beaten to an inch of your life."

"He got inside his head, Lily, far more than I thought he would," said Mr. Alexander. "He hardly recognizes me, remembers very little of his time as my thrall, and he doesn't even realize… well. There are some important things he's forgotten."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"It isn't your fault," said his master firmly. "Lily, do you think you can help? My sire has him convinced that he doesn't even deserve food or sleep. If you could remove the ideas he put into Fitz's head, and restore his memories…"

Miss Lily sighed. "That might be a tall order. If it were any other vampire , I'd be far more confident, but my sire is one of the few vampires who can outstrip my abilities, you know that. I can chip away at it, but a full restoration is going to take time."

"Whatever you can do to help him," said Mr. Alexander.

"But Lex, are you sure it's necessary?" she said. She tilted Fitzwilliam's head so that he was looking into her eyes, captivated. "He's rather charming, all fawning and subdued. And there may be memories that he'd rather not have. Besides, you know that the more you try to restore him, the more our sire will try to break him the next time he gets his hands on him."

"I'm absolutely sure. I can't stand to see Fitz like this."

Fitzwilliam looked up, distressed. Mr. Alexander had told him that he was perfect, but of course he hadn't meant it. He was deeply displeased with Fitzwilliam, enough to bring him to another vampire to have his mind and memories reshaped again. And if he resisted, or if it didn't take correctly…

It wasn't Fitzwilliam that was perfect. Mr. Alexander was imagining someone else, perhaps the person he used to be, the one he couldn't remember. Fitzwilliam's only use was as a vessel for the person Mr. Alexander truly wanted.

The vampires didn't seem to notice Fitzwilliam's distress. "You know the easiest way to restore some his memories, don't you?" said Miss Lily. "Just drink his blood and let him into your mind a little."

"I can't just drink his blood. Not after the pain our sire caused him. You know how he feeds, how he makes it as unpleasant as possible on purpose. When I drink from him, I want it to be better than that."

"You can drink from me whenever you wish, sir," said Fitzwilliam, tilting his head and exposing his neck in a way he hoped was fetching. "My purpose is to serve you."

Mr. Alexander's brows furrowed. "That's exactly what I mean. This is… it's not like you, Fitz."

"My blood must still be the same, sir," said Fitzwilliam with growing desperation. "Isn't it pleasing to you?"

"Of course it's pleasing, it's just that…"

"For God's sake, Lex, let him feed you," said Miss Lily. "He obviously wants you."

"Yes, please, sir." Fitzwilliam knew that being fed from would hurt so much, but he still wanted it from Mr. Alexander. It was his only purpose, the primary reason why vampires kept inferior, pathetic creatures such as him around.

"Not now," said Mr. Alexander. "Let's let Lily work on you first."

"Yes, sir," said Fitzwilliam, swallowing a bitter mouthful of rejection. His master had been so kind earlier. What had Fitzwilliam done so wrong?

"It's going to take several sessions of work, but we might as well get started," said Miss Lily. She took Fitzwilliam by the hand and led him to a small room lit primarily by a flickering candle. There was a large leather chair dominating most of the floor, one that was slightly reclined. Miss Lily indicated that he should sit, and Fitzwilliam did, finding it incredibly comfortable.

Something about this place was making him so drowsy. He couldn't help but yawn, trying his hardest to stifle and cover for it, lest he be punished for such a rude gesture.

"Are you feeling sleepy, dear?" she cooed. "You don't need to hide your yawns. It's perfectly all right if you feel tired. Even if you fall right asleep, I won't be offended."

"All right, sir," said Fitzwilliam with another huge yawn. It was so strange -- he wasn't tired at all just a few moments before.

"Now Fitzwilliam, before you drop off into a warm, comfortable, deep sleep," she said, her singsong voice burrowing into him, "is there anything you can remember about what the Maestro has done to your mind?"

"Um… yes, sir, I can remember some of it," he said. His mind felt so foggy, but he still wanted to answer her question. "He would have me look into his eyes, or sometimes I would watch a metronome, and it was like… a cold and dark place, a place of nothingness. I couldn't think. I could only think the thoughts he gave to me." His own voice sounded distant as he recalled the terrible spell that had been placed on him. "He made sure I knew that I was worthless, that I had no value compared to a vampire. That the only reasons I was allowed to exist was to provide blood, serve him, and strive for perfection. He told me that I would never be worthy of care or consideration unless I managed to be perfect. He told me that everyone who knew me had loathed me --" Fitzwilliam's voice cracked a bit. "-- and that my only atonement was to be scrubbed clean, to be completely obedient."

Mr. Alexander swore under his breath, and it was a shock to hear that gentle, musical voice say something so vulgar. "Not a word of that is true, Fitz. Complete garbage. We need to get all of that out of your mind."

"Our sire's enthrallment sounds dreadful," said Miss Lily.

"Has he never enthralled you?"

"No, unless he wiped my memory of it."

"He only used that particular power on me a couple of times, but it left an impression," said Mr. Alexander. "He preferred to keep me under his thumb with fear and punishment. I suppose, of the two of us, you've always been the golden spawn."

"Lucky me," she said wryly. She ran a hand through Fitzwilliam's hair, tilting his chin up to look into his eyes. "It's a lot to extract from his head, just as I expected. I think that first we want to get some of his key memories back, restore his personality as best as we can."

"Please, sir," he said, captured in those sparkling eyes. "Please help me."

"And as for approach," she mused, "I think he needs to experience some pleasure."

"Come again?" said Mr. Alexander.

"Most humans, and vampires for that matter, require a certain amount of pleasure and fun in their lives to stay sane. It's not something I would expect you to understand, given your idea of a wild night is organizing your card catalog."

"Yes, very amusing."

"Fitzwilliam, on the other hand, has a boundless appetite for pleasure, and he's been utterly starved for months now. Haven't you, Fitz dear?"

"I was grateful for my training, sir," he said, swallowing a lump in his throat, unsure where the aching need in his chest was coming from. "I didn't require anything more."

"Do you see what I mean, Lex? An unnatural block on a core part of his personality," she said. "Unlock that, and his mind will open up beautifully. Just watch."

"I don't doubt your expertise," Mr. Alexander said.

"That being said, I think you should help enthrall him. He is your precious thrall, after all."

"I can certainly do that." Mr. Alexander stood next to Miss Lily, taking one of Fitzwilliam's hands and stroking it. "Pleasure, then, that's your recommendation."

Fitzwilliam felt a bit like a caged animal on display for the two vampires. "What are you going to do, sir?"

Mr. Alexander responded by singing a note so sweet it sent shivers down Fitzwilliam's spine. His senses evaporated in an instant, leaving behind a deep sensation of bliss. Fitzwilliam couldn't help but sink into the chair in a stupor, gazing up at his master, the corners of his mouth twitching up into an unfamiliar smile.

Nothing but joy and bliss, the wordless song seemed to say. No fear, no pain, only contentment.

"There we are," said Miss Lily, her voice echoing through Fitzwilliam's head. "Doesn't that feel nice?"

"Yes, sir…" he said in a daze. The sensation was like long-forgotten, sunshine on his skin, like collapsing into bed after a long day, like applause and cheers from a crowd… and like other, less savory things as well. Fitzwilliam could hardly keep himself from squirming. It was so intense that it was on the border of being uncomfortable, but he still wanted more, never wanted this to end.

Mr. Alexander was running his fingers through Fitzwilliam's hair again, and the touch was electric, sending tingles down his spine. He was pouring that smooth voice in Fitzwilliam's ear like honey. Fitzwilliam was more than happy to drown in it. He knew he'd do anything, absolutely anything, that his master asked of him.

"Just clear your mind and listen," Miss Lily whispered in his other ear. "Empty your thoughts, let them go. There's nothing but pleasure and relaxation in that head of yours now."

Fitzwilliam nodded. It was such sweet relief to have his thoughts removed.

"Now, with all of that out of the way, you can start to remember, bit by bit. Let your master's song chip away at the walls separating you from your memories."

"You can remember who you are, can't you?" Mr. Alexander coaxed. "You're Fitz, my Fitz. You adore performing on stage, flashy clothes, and playing your guitar. You love to shamelessly flirt and you can't get enough flattery. You're always quick with your wit, and your smile is as bright as a full moon."

It was a terribly corny thing to say, but Fitz found himself smiling anyway, awash in comfort and pleasure. Memories were floating back up into his mind -- here he was charming a crowd with his vaudeville act, there he was taking a late-night walk through the city, here he was scheming his way into a handsome man's pants and wallet.

His master continued to hum, and Fitz followed the music straight to other important memories: memories of Mr. Alexander himself -- no, of Lex, the vampire he'd ensnared at the auction house. He grasped at memories of Lex like they were the last remnants of a dream before waking up. He remembered a soft smile on cold nights. He remembered how hesitant Lex always was, treating Fitz as though he were a porcelain trinket that could break at any moment, and how satisfying it was when the vampire allowed his self-control to break and his desire to pour out of him. He remembered tumbling onto a couch in the library, pressing their lips together…

"We were lovers."

"Yes, we were," said Lex. "And perhaps we still can be, once we've restored your mind."

"I don't see what difference that makes," said Fitz. "I've never used my mind for matters of love."

Lex was looking at him, and Fitz was seized with the sudden urge to grab his shirt and pull him in and --

Fitz remembered the last time he had seen that face.

It was dark, Lex's face lit only by a flickering gas lamp. The amount of blood streaming down his cheeks and the silver dagger in his eye made him unrecognizable. His mouth was contorted into a pained grimace, and his uninjured eye was empty and glassy.

Fitz had done that. It was his fault. Oh, he'd been forced by Lex's sire, but Fitz's hands were the ones soaked in Lex's blood. He could see it now, he could practically smell it --

"Fitz? Fitz!"

"Wake up now, Fitz." A hand shook his shoulder gently. For a moment, he saw blood and gore overlaid over Lex's face, before the nightmare of the basement faded and he found himself back in Miss Lily's chamber.

"I… did that to you…" said Fitz, shaking, trying to banish the image from his mind.

"No, you didn't," said Lex, not requiring an explanation. "It was my sire who punished me, punished both of us. It's my fault for failing to kill him, and it's my fault you didn't escape." He glanced over to Miss Lily, and Fitz felt sick dread in the pit of his stomach.

"I stabbed you," said Fitz, trying to make sense of it all. "I remember it. Why would I try to harm you?"

"My sire was the one who stabbed me. It doesn't make a difference if he used your hand to do it." Lex pulled Fitz up into an embrace. "I don't blame you for anything. I've just wanted you back."

It should be enough. It should be enough that his master wanted him. But now that he had been made to recall the horrible punishment he'd inflicted on Lex, his mind was filled with flickers of other painful memories lying just beyond the veil. A stage show interrupted, his hopes crushed as he was whisked away into darkness and terror, his very mind bent and broken into an unrecognizable shape, perhaps finishing the job of his father.

And he still stung from that rejection, Lex's refusal to drink from him.

He had just enough memories back to realize just how much he was missing, whole chunks of his life available only in glimpses. He recalled just enough of his personality to know how vastly different he was now. Perhaps Fitz the roguish performer had died back in the manor, and only Fitzwilliam the simpering, mindless slave remained. He couldn't charm Lex the way he once had, now that his mind had been shattered. There was only one thing he still had that he knew would please Lex -- his precious blood.

"Fitz?" said Lex, concerned, wiping a tear out of the corner of Fitz's eye.

Fitz was practically shaking with the effort not to weep. It was one thing to be so miserable when that was all he knew. It was another thing to remember what he once was, remember his fleeting moments of happiness, and know that he could never be restored to the way he was.

"Drink from me," he muttered.

"What? What are you saying?"

"Why won't you drink from me?" said Fitz, already ashamed of his outburst but unable to stop it. "Is it because I can't please you any more? Can't entertain you or make you laugh? Do you actually want me, or do you just see me as an object of pity?"

"I -- no, I don't --"

Fitz grabbed the front of Lex's shirt, pulling him closer. "My blood must still be worth something, even if the rest of me isn't. Take it. Drink your fill!"

Lex shied away. "No, you're worth so much more than just your blood."

"Liar," said Fitz bitterly. "You always said that, but now I'm not worth much of anything, am I? Just a sad broken toy. You can't possibly want me like this. You're lying about that, and you -- you said you could kill him, you said you could protect me -- " He let out an awful, choked-up sob.

And then he was enveloped by Lex's arms. They were cold but strong, pressing him against Lex's chest, and he collapsed against the vampire's shoulder while he wept.

"I'm sorry," said Lex. "I'm so, so sorry. I failed at it all, and I can never, ever make it up to you, or bring back all the things you've lost. I'm sorry, Fitz."

"I don't care if you're sorry," said Fitz. "Just make me think you want me again. Even if it's a lie. Hypnotize me into it, I don't care."

"It isn't a lie," Lex said firmly. "But if you really won't believe me unless I drink from you…"

Lex sang a beautiful clear note in Fitz's ear, and just like that, his pain began to fade, along with his sadness and rage and emptiness, all of it evaporating and replaced by mindless bliss. Fitz could feel his master's desire to feed, giving him the much needed relief of being wanted. His neck tilted as his eyes glazed over, not caring how much it might hurt, only wanting to provide for his master.

"This won't hurt at all," Lex whispered in Fitz's ear. "It's going to feel like -- it's going to feel like everything you've ever wanted. Everything you dreamed about when you were trapped in that horrible place."

And Fitz believed him, despite it all.

There was cold breath on his neck, lips grazing, almost a kiss. A sharpness, a pressure, a warmth. Fitz could feel his blood starting to flow into Lex's waiting mouth, and everything else dissolved away. The feeding was the only thing that mattered. He heard himself gasp in pleasure, Lex's grip on him tightening, hands twisting the fabric at the back of his dress.

Fitz could feel what his master, his lover, was feeling: a great storm of pain and despair and self-loathing, tempered only by his deep craving for Fitz, not just his blood, but all of him.

"You… you want me, even as I am now?" said Fitz, slumping against Lex, eyelids growing heavier.

His master's fangs retreated, and Fitz felt emptier already, even as Lex licked the wound clean. "Even as you are now. Yes, I still want you."

Fitz nodded, so tired. It would have to be enough.

Previous > Masterlist

Thank you for reading! Next week, I'll be on break for vacation, and after that, Fitz will return in 1925.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin

@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

@vampiresprite @irregular-book @whumpsoda @und3ad-mutt

@sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @light-me-on-pyre @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada

@typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia

@a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi

@enigmawriteswhump @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot

@cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme

@strawbearydreams @ghost-whump @tippytappytyping @natthebatt @fire-bugg14

[cocoavanille]

SuoSaku 3rd year struggling with their love because Suo confessed and Sakura freaked out and kind of rejected him out of panic, and (of all people) Endo being DONE with this bullshit, dragging Sakura by the shirt to "talk it out with him like a normal person, you actually do have all the chances, you fucking idiot, he's pretty much ready to kiss the ground you've walked on".

Endo needed a hug but instead got SuoSaku together by texting Suo:

"Listen, eye patch, he's a traumatized terrifyed idiot who thinks he will ruin everything by existing. That is also madly in love with you (I'm an expert, trust me on that one). The classic 'am I worthy' and 'I can't handle love' type of bullshit. I have no sound advice aside from manipulate his ass to talk about it with you directly, ain't no way he actually starts that conversation. Thank me later with not looking at eachother with this disgusting longing anymore. Worst regards, your unfriendly neighbour".

Takiishi takes his phone later in the evening to call Banjo (too lazy to get his own from the kitchen) and turns his head towards him.

– Are they still not dating? What the fuck?

– Yeah, my thoughts exactly. What are yours?

Takiishi thinks for a few seconds, sits next to him and says with unexpected softness.

– I don't believe Sakura's scared of not handling love. It's more of... Not being a person their loved one needs them to be.

– Elaborate? I'm dumb today.

Endo frowns, resting his hand on Takiishi's thigh more so out of habit than anything. That's an interesting track of thought.

– You are always a bit dumb. Sakura... Is a lot like water that reflects his surroundings, in a way, but that's the surface. The currents and depths are the core and he seems to feel like they are dark and damaging. To himself, but to others too – he's scared of it, so he would suppose it scares other people. The thing is, Suo Hayato is not easily scared. If anything...

– Suo sees the level of previous destruction and is still ready to dive in, not minding drowning if worse comes to worse. Because that's what you have to be mentally prepared for when you're going into the sea. Makes sense.

Endo caught on and gave Chika a look. Amber eyes met his in silent question.

– It never fails to surprise me how perceptive you actually are when you want to be. You just purposefully ignore human-related nuance it seems.

– Or it's you who likes to think he's got everything and everyone figured out, but barely understands himself. Is it the same?

– The same to what?

Endo stares at him, frowning.

– The scary currents. Although yours are more like the directions of the wind, hurricanes and such.

Endo leans back on the couch, pondering. This is... An observation that makes him feel quite uncomfortable. But Chika is very good at detecting lies, so he forces the truth out.

– Maybe.

– Is stepping into the fire safer to you than looking in the mirror?

A nervous laughter escapes on his own. He's not sure whether Chika gaining an interest in people two years ago was a blessing or a curse anymore.

Takiishi reads his expression through the mask and silently opens up their comfort channel with animal videos, putting on some big cats content, giving him his phone back. Gets up to make tea. The call can wait it seems.

Endo sits there, a little dumbstruck. That was a wild way to point out "hey, you're nosy in your friends love life and may be wrong".

Ouch, you motherfucker. Takiishi knows how much he hates taking a look at himself. A grin spreads on his face.

– Were you just protecting Sakura in a way? Are you mad that I'm in their business and not with you or something?

– You suck at reading people.

Chika says with a faint smile, pushing a glass of iced tea with his favourite syrup and milk type in front of him. Endo takes a sip. Perfect proportions.

The incoming message reads: "mind your business, dear neighbour and don't disturb my garden".

Ah, a threat! "Touch the sakura branches and I'll chop your hands off", swee-et.

– Kids are so rude these days.

Takiishi looks over to the screen, smirks in satisfaction and turns on the TV.

They'll figure it out. All of them. Finding a balance takes time.

[sunandsteel99]

Part 3: $CAMMER

(As the Housemate Saga comes to an end .....well. What is there to say. I'll spare you the boring sentimental shit)

A week or so passes.

Any time I go out to the kitchen or peek my head into the livingroom, for the first time since I moved in 2 years ago Hetftm is nowhere to be seen. The house feels unnerving peaceful... For all of about a day. Scammer quickly notices Het's retreat– deterred by the Alleged Fleas (i have since secretly checked. Meticulously so. Its a load of bullshit but I have no investment in this polt line either way)– and takes over, setting up shop on the couch with his bong and a plethora of blankets in order to begin his new reign, blasting reality TV during all hours of the day whenever he isn't...... "working".

The thing is, however, I do "like" Scammy. He can be in the main area without holding whoever dares enter it conversationally hostage. And when we do talk, he is an enjoyable conversationalist. Despite this, oddly enough, I begin to miss doing The Bit with Het. I find his dramaticisms Entertaining. Scam just ignores everyone and scrolls through tiktoks out loud laughing to himself. Het might annoy me but there's something at least funny and slightly more attemptedly-prosocial about him laughing at something dumb online before holding out his phone to show it to whoever happens to be there and launching into a rant about the arguments he's been getting into online. I do, at the very least, feel comfortable around him, and never concern myself with the facts of what spills out his mouth— he is utterly incapable of deception. All cards on the table at all times.

While LB and I had been on the porch, gossiping after the house meeting, Scams came out to take a bong rip, and proclaimed: "I'm glad I'm not scared of [hetftm]." Hmm. Wait– who is? I admitted that I used to find him a bit exhausting when I first moved in, but quickly learned not to take his shenanigans too seriously, and find that has been the best approach overall. It's not that serious. In fact, half the time when he's Overreacting to something, he's doing so explicitly to elicit a humorous response. I don't think Scams can differentiate between Het being hilariously dramatic for a laugh (regardless of how unfunny it may be) vs when he's doing so out of a need to have a self-aware-of-how-ridiculous-it-is (but doing it nonetheless) type of Outburst vs Just Saying Dumb Shit to Say Dumb Shit or maybe he just doesnt fucking care. Either way... taking it personal and responding with passive-aggression or, worse, meeting him where he's at, seems counterproductive.

Being underhanded or taking offense... it's like getting worked up about a child asking "Why? Why? Why? Why?"

Devising ways to get one over on someone like that is a surefire way to make any living situation un fucking bearable.

Which brings us to his pseudonym.

I initially didn't think much of this whole thing. Because its silly. However the thing that made me seriously consider that he was perhaps intentionally lying about the fleas, among other petty things, was what happened next.

Barely 2 weeks ago, Scam had gotten LB a job at a wildly disorganized nonprofit, run by some young early-20-somethings. What was meant to be a very simple position quickly evolved into her running said nonprofit, as it became clear that no one else was capable of doing so. Her ability to handle the few things they'd given her to do were finished with ease in a timely manner--- things that the early 20-somethings had struggled to stop partying long enough to organize or complete at all, which put their entire operation in jeopardy. LB had made such a profound difference that they began handing over everything of importance, to see what she could do with it. No issue.

Well– a few issues. You can herd a horde of cats into landing a government grant, but good luck getting them to follow through on all the things they'd promised to do with it.

But as much as the amount of administrative work, budget planning, poster designing, social media promotion event organizing, and payroll management demanded of her, it came as an actual relief to her to actually have it over and done with, since she finally didn't have to try and coordinate with a bunch of people who were quite frankly doing fuck all and halting her ability to make sure things actually ran, at all, really.

These are the type of people who would tell her they'd have something sent over by afternoon and then ghost for days only for her to find out through Scammer that they'd all been partying and doing ketamine at someone's apartment the whole time. Or they'd agree to drop something off at the house by 5pm and end up messaging at 11pm saying they were on their way– when she was already asleep like a normal person.

So, finally in charge, she could just do the work, get everything lined up, and hope that what little she did leave up to them would all come together when it came down to Event Day. Fingers crossed! However she has since been asked to play Mediator between the founders for $50/hr the day before the Event. Shit, I told her, well in that case No need to be hasty, leave no stone unturned, and if they reach a resolution by the 2hr mark be sure to bring up that they still seem to have soke sort of Unadressed Conflict and see what happens. Not sure how this fits into the budget but this one's on the founders, so, whatever.

Then, days ago: she was suddenly put in charge of finances. She was told that everyone had already been paid, but to keep track of things, moving forward, and prepare for the next payout.

Scammer approaches her in the kitchen:

"Hey, super weird, I actually didn't get my paycheck last week! Do you mind sending me that? I just added up my hours and it comes out to $950."

LB sees no reason to initally doubt this claim– How Typical... of course they forgot! She tells Scammer (I'm sure you see where this is going by now) that she will get on it right away. But in the back if her mind... she's questioning the numbers. The amount seems steep, and doesn't quite add up— she does a majority of their work, and still doesn't make *that* much!

LB, however, still believing the story about not getting paid, proceeds to ask the team if anyone else hadn't been sent their paycheck.

Multiple people suddenly claim they hadn't been paid, and toss a number in her direction, most of which raise a lot of red flags. These people, she explained to me, don't do much of anything. So where are these numbers coming from? Where are the documented hours?

She doesn't need to dig deep into things before realizing how apparent it is that she's being Played.

Scammer had already been paid, of course. A few hundred dollars for hours that were, in his case, technically documented, but otherwise didn't make sense. But at the very least, yes, the hours were "accounted for". What happened during them is another story entirely. Many of the alleged hours clocked in happened on days that she knew for a fact he was doing nothing at all, or out drinking, or at one of those ketamine-fuelled apartment parties.

If she doesn't keep track of these things and run a tight ship, she knows that their chances of continuing to recieve grants, to continue doing this job, will be squandered. And Scammer put her in the direct line of fire by trying this shit. LB takes her job seriously. Scammer talks a big game about The Importance Of Their Work, but at the end of the day, he's just trying to contribute as little as humanly possible to The Cause and still get the bag. What they do is actually– when it is properly, consistently, executed– respectable, honest work. And not even hard work on everyone else's end, but she's already taken care of all the logistics, so what excuse do they have to be putting their employment in jeopardy? She couldn't have made it any more simple. And yet, nobody seems to be doing what their simple jobs require of them. So, what the hell has everyone else been doing– and where exactly has the money been going??

LB approaches Scammy to let him know that he must be Confused--- he'd actually already been paid (and far less than he'd asked her to unquestionably send him)!

"Yeah, I know!" He laughed, explaining that he was hoping she wouldn't notice like everyone else.

A few days pass while she's busy, and still deciding how to confront him to have a serious discussion about this breach of trust in their friendship. It'd be one thing if he was upfront about what he was doing before trying to potentially fucking her over at work, but.......

She quickly finished working on the entire Event budget and has everything accounted for, down to the penny. Now, the things just need to be purchased. A few people say they will.... and then back out.

Scammer insists on doing it, and requests that LP send all the money to him. Having no one else to rely on for this, she nervously sends the money, while being adamant that every reciept must be sent to her. It's A Lot, for the record. She waits for an update. Keeps waiting. He's supposed to have done it by now. The Event is on Monday. Everything was supposed to be organized by now. She and I sit on the porch, smoking and complaining about him. He carries himself with confidence, and a genuine air of self-assured competence, but when it comes down to it, well...

A delivery driver arrives. Booze. Lots of it. Scammer comes outside to retrieve it and shows off his goodies--- expensive taste. Very, very expensive. He's going out to a house party tonight.

LB later confided in me that as soon as she heard that our resident OG leaseholder and rent-payer would be leaving (note: his 10+ year long place on the lease is what legally prevented the landlords from hiking up the price to Current Market Value) she went looking and found a place that will be available in 2 months.

Housemate Saga Drawing To An End– Part 1: Ftm Psychic Warfare

Setting: House Meeting. Topic: redistribution of chores, effective upon my nearing departure. For some reason, Hetftm is running the show. Milking it in every way he can. First on the docket: He had, days prior, convinced the downstairs roomies to let him use their bathroom, moving forward– because the tub is lower and thus easier for his munchie ass to get in and out of? An odd claim considering he will have to make his way down the steep winding basement stairs to get there. I suspect the real motivation is that he wanted to get out of having to take on the Main Floor Bathroom Deep Clean chore that had been mine. This suspicion would be confirmed when he brought up how, in my absence, it would have just been him and Lesbian Bestie using it, but now its just her, so, the delegation Seems Obvious. Upon her move-in she had already taken on too many chores to reasonably justify giving her that one as well– unless he could find a way to get out of it. And he had. With the downstairs bathroom already being one of very few chores allocated to Hazbin-NB (she, unlike Newftm, is seen outside of the basement so rarely that its like having Bigfoot or the Loch Ness Monster as a housemate– in this context, the lack of chores makes sense), its basically his get-out-of-jail-free card to swap over to it. Het then proceeds to suggest that Newftm take on a significantly higher amount of the chores which had previously been mine. I Do Everything Around Here And No Offense But No One Else Does Aaanyyythingg, he cries. Newftm confronts him with a series of reasonable points which wares down hetftm quickly, thus he diverts his attention to me. No Offense But Tyler You Do Nothing So We're Gonna Have To Make Some Changes Around Here. "Tee Hee" I say, grinning and leaning in, blinking at him, "I love my Nothing". He frequently lobs shit at me because he knows I don't take his shit personally nor seriously. This is Our Bit. Okay Fiiiine, I Know Thats Not True, he says, cracking up, But The Rest Of Yall Better Not Ask My Disabled Ass To Do Anything! The tension is diffused momentarily as he cackles at my maintained goofy stare in his direction, face resting in my hands, and we all then agree to move on and simply let my chores be distrubuted in perfretly equal part amongst those remaining here, much to het's displeasure (he had been attempting to evade this outcome). Rentmoid sits with Partner on stools at the kitchen island, overseeing the livingroom, looking as though questioning every decision he's made up to this point. Hazbin Hotel NB is sitting cross-legged on the floor, scrolling through instagram reels. Hetftm and Newftm stare daggers at one another in between Hetftm attempting to delegate the chores. Lesbian Bestie and I sit beside them on the couch making pointed eye contact towards one another. Girl... Help! Finally, with roughly 30 minutes of chore deliberation out of the way, at last, Hetftm sighs, twirls his pompom-endowed pen, and asks– does anyone else have a concern they'd like to bring up? PLEASE say no! Newftm, who really should have a more differentiating moniker, hmm, lets go with Scammer for reasons we'll get into later... Scammer leans in, looking initially all too pleased to have to say Yes.

Scammer clears his throat, shifts his weight, straightens his back against the couch cushions, and addresses the silenced room in a suddenly somber tone: "Yes," he repeats. He takes a deep inhale, sighs it out, staring down as though deep in contemplation, then looks up, eyes widened. Stares.

"The Couch Has Fleas."