#I love that I dropped the body horror beast and followed it up with tender images

[ardentinwoe]

Oh to be held by a woman who could kill you…

Valerie belongs to @mentemori

[thyfatedenemy]

I'll stay here through the darkest night

Howdy~! Loved your writing! Can I request a fluff/angst scenario in which Jamil Viper suddenly had a nightmare of hurting his fem! s/o during his Overblot and when he wakes up, he quickly rushes over to Ramshackle to check on her, make sure she’s okay? Please and thank you!

I’ll stay through the darkest night.

Cw: (All of these happen in the context of a dream) choking, death. She/her pronouns used for reader.

He can't stop the crushing pressure, no matter how he tries to stop his hands won't obey, the more he fights it the tighter his grip grows.

The gasps grow quiet, the nails clawing at his arms drop lifelessly, swaying back and forth, a familiar body grows cold in his hands. Tears spill from her eyes as they look to his one last time, betrayed by the one she trusted and loved, fear and hurt evident in the light of her fading eyes.

The young man jolts awake, shaken to his core as he trembles like the leaf on an aspen tree. Tears sting his eyes but he wipes them away, one wobbly leg following the other as he runs out of his room, hoping that the horror he just witnessed was only a dream and not a horrible memory.

Pounding footsteps echo in the silent dormitory, he doesn’t care who he wakes up, he needs to make sure she’s still breathing, still sharing this world with him.

Maybe it was a memory after all, maybe he did lose control and hurt the one he held so dear, but her life was the only concern he had. As long as she was alive, he could forget everything else.

The journey to Ramshackle was a blur, green lights blending into singular line as he ran past them and before he knew it, he was bursting into his lover’s dorm. Normally he’d grimace at the state it was in, the debilitating building couldn’t possibly be safe to live in for anyone, yet that miserable crow of a headmaster refused to allow a transfer into another dorm for no apparent reason. Maybe Jamil could sneak her into Scarabia, Seven’s know she deserves better than Ramshackle. 

She was already up by the time he reached her room, she looked frazzled and quite frankly ready to attack whoever entered through the door to her room with the broom she was holding. Lucky for him, she recognized him before she struck him. 

“Jamil? You almost gave me a heart attack! Wha-” he pulled her into a tight hug before she could even finish, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. With that he could finally relax with a long, shaky breath of relief. 

“You’re okay” he sobs, the tears flood his eyes now, “you’re okay” he repeats as he tenderly places his hand on her cheek, as if to make sure she was really there. “What happened?” her voice carried the same tenderness as his actions while she gently held him against her, squeezing him into a hug. 

Silence fills the air soon enough, his sobs die down as he returns the hug and guides them both to sit down on her bed.

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

He can only shake his head.

“Hm… was it a nightmare?”

He nods.

“Whatever it was, it can’t hurt you now. I won’t let it.” She reassures him, pulling a blanket around them both.

Placing a gentle kiss on his forehead, she slowly guides him to lay down with her, not caring about the rules, she didn’t care if Crowley would complain about this in the morning, she didn’t care if she’d get into trouble.

A quiet grumble startled them both, “Hg… Y/N… wha’ is it?” a certain cat beast rubs his eyes after he’d finally woken up, how he hadn’t woken up before was a mystery but it’d perhaps be for the best if he continued to sleep, “Don’t worry about it, Grim” she tells him and before he can ask further questions she shushes him quietly, and with a little scratch behind his ears, he falls asleep again.

“Might that work on you, too, honeybee?” she muses and the only response she got was a mildly irritated mutter of “don’t you dare”. Jamil adjusts the blanket to cocoon them both beneath the warm fabric but alas, his plan for a nice cuddle session was interrupted by Grim, the cat beast stepping between them and curling up into a little ball, quiet purring leaving him.

“I think he’s doing this on purpose…” Jamil sighs, reveling in his lover's affection as she pulls him closer, “eh, probably. But he’s cute so it’s okay” she hums, her hand petting the little cat monster.

“Is it friday…” she asks after a long yawn which caused him to yawn as well, “yeah” he nods, “that’s good… we can sleep in” she utters out, lids growing heavier and heavier, “but Kalim-” “he will be fine, besides, he’ll probably sleep in too” “you’re a horrible influence” “hm, probably, but take a break, sleeping in for an hour or two won’t hurt” she took a little break before continuing to speak, “you need to sleep”.

He sighs contently, maybe she’s right, more rest couldn’t hurt. Kalim could survive without him for a few moments, surely.

The night passed as they held each other, Grim wedged between them and working as a furnace to warm them both. They’d all assumed they could keep on sleeping peacefully but alas, it was not to be.

��YUU!” Kalim bursts through the door, “JAMIL'S BEEN KIDNAPPED- JAMIL! YOU’RE HERE!” the young man jumps into the bed with the trio, sobbing something about how glad he was to find Jamil, thanking Yuu for keeping him safe. So much for sleeping in… hopefully he'd fall asleep soon as well, or at the very least calm down, maybe then they could keep up with their calm morning.

[songofsoma]

Aere Perrenius

fandom: the wayhaven chronicles pairing: ava du mortain / cecilia beck rating: mature [ brief nsfw content ] word count: 1,716

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4

read it on ao3

He had recognized her right away. It was hard not to since there weren’t many women who matched the beauty presented in the wedding portrait sent by House Beck.

She was supposed to be dead. Soldiers had found her horse with its throat cut on the forest floor, a halo of scattered belongings surrounding the body—a spare dress and slippers, a tattered journal that was barely legible from being soaked through with mud, and a small coin purse that had been emptied.

Dried blood had been found on a few trees as well as in the grass. Thankfully the rain had yet to wash away the evidence.

What they didn’t find was her body.

It was assumed she had been stolen away, judging by the multiple sets of footprints, most likely to be used like a whore and left for dead. Bastardly men haunted these woods so it would have been a reasonable conclusion.

He had almost believed it himself until he had seen her.

He had been riding through the woods, tired of being cooped up indoors, when a melodic laugh broke through the trees. There she stood, wrapped in the arms of a knight, with a smile so bright it could replace the sun. And he, the golden-haired knight, looked at her as if she truly were the sun in the sky.

Jealous rage threatened to tear him to pieces as he watched them from afar.

That man had taken what was rightfully his.

He would pay. 

They both would.

They both would wish that Lady Cecilia Beck had truly died that day. He would make sure of that.

***

She cringed at the sharp crash of metal as swords collided.

Cecilia was a safe distance away from the practice ring, sitting on a blanket one of Ava’s men had scrambled to get her. 

She had thought it was sweet. 

Ava had glared at him suspiciously causing him to swallow hard.

Her knight was in the center of the ring, sweat making every inch of her exposed skin glisten. Much to Cecilia’s horror, she had opted out of the protection of her armor with the excuse that it was far too hot. There was no concrete evidence to prove it, but she figured it was to show off to her lover.

Most of the time, Cecilia wouldn’t have complained. Watching Ava’s muscles flex as she moved was a welcomed sight when she wasn’t in danger. Ava would be disappointed to find out that her attention had been on the agony she felt when the edge of the blade grew too near or when she lost her footing for a brief second. Each time she recovered with astonishing grace, but that did nothing to ease her rising anxieties.

The gods above must have taken pity on her nerves for it was not long after until the man she was sparring with was flat on his back, the tip of Ava’s sword hovering just above his throat. 

“I concede!” He groaned.

It was almost drowned out by Ava’s hoot of victory followed by that of the other spectators.

“Think twice before you challenge me again, Victor,” she chided him boastfully. “I cannot tip the scales in your favor any further without blinding myself or tying my hands behind my back!” Ava roared with laughter, the other men joining in.

Cecilia watched them curiously. It was odd to see her like this, so loud and prideful, it was unlike their time alone. She enjoyed it, nonetheless, it was nice to see her happy.

Ava finally caught her eye whilst sheathing her sword. If it were even possible, her smile brightened further as she began to stride over to where she sat.

“Was my Lady pleased with my performance?” She asked, offering a hand to help Cecilia to her feet.

“I would have preferred if you had been adequately protected.” With one hand, she smoothed down the front of her skirt, chasing away any lingering dirt, the other was still ensnared by Ava’s.

The knight brought it to her lips, gently kissing her knuckles. It was a silent apology for causing her distress. “I assure you, if I would have believed it to have been a challenge, I would have been properly suited.”

She was unable to stay cross with Ava for very long, they both were acutely aware of this fact. Ava’s honeyed words and charming smile were enough to ease the tensions seizing her mind.

Cecilia huffed in defeat and Ava knew she had been victorious once more.

“Would you like to try?” She asked suddenly.

“Try what?” Dark brows furrowed in confusion.

Letting go of her hand, Ava gripped the pommel of her sword for emphasis. “Wielding a sword. Only if you are interested of course.”

“Oh.” Cecilia blinked. She hadn’t ever thought of such a thing. “I cannot find a valid reason as to why I should not.”

Emerald eyes sparkled with delight as she ushered the lady in the direction of the wooden dummies set up for practice.

A few of the other knights had been lingering, watching their superior with heated interest. Ava hardly seemed to notice, but Cecilia could feel their gazes. It didn’t seem malicious. Just simple curiosity.

The sound of metal sliced through the air as Ava withdrew her blade, twirling it in her grasp before handing it to Cecilia. “Now be mindful for it is heavier than it looks.”

She nodded. But still, when Ava dropped her hand away from the blade, the handle fell from Cecilia’s grasp and clattered on to the dirt.

The knight chuckled as the lady scrambled to retrieve it.

Just simply holding the weapon made Cecilia understand why Ava’s arms were wrapped in cords of muscle. Years of wielding such a beast would require her strength. It rendered the skill even more impressive.

She had a better grip on the blade the second time. The thick leather of the handle was smooth in her grasp as she admired the engravings on the blade. It looked like words were carved into the metal, but she couldn’t make them out.

“Omnia mors aquant,” warm breath tickled her ear as she leaned in, Ava’s chest pressing against her back. Strong hands slid down her arms until they covered her own, holding the blade steady in front of them. “Fate will find a way.”

Cecilia’s breath hitched in her throat at the touch. If she wasn’t wielding a large, dangerous weapon she might have lost herself in Ava in the middle of the training yard.

“Ominous,” she mumbled.

A low chuckle vibrated the air around them. “It is a line my father has repeated to me since I was a child. Your fate will find you, my girl. Fate will find a way.” Her voice deepened as she impersonated Lord du Mortain. “I suppose it just…stuck.”

She turned her head, stealing a brief glance at her knight.

“No matter, let us begin.”

***

Cecilia groaned as she fell back into bed, reveling in the embrace of the soft furs and feathered mattress. Droplets of water still clung to her skin not covered by the dressing gown she wore. Her eyes were heavy, and her arms were sore from that afternoon. Ava made fighting look so easy. She shouldn’t have been surprised. There were a lot of activities her knight made effortless.

As tired as she was, she couldn’t help the smile rise to her lips as she felt the bed dip as Ava crawled towards her. Gentle kisses were peppered over her neck and her face as the knight tried her damnedest to capture Cecilia’s full attention.

She cracked open one eye, unable to help herself, and was met with the sight of her lover’s gleeful smile. The ends of a flaxen braid tickled her cheek as Ava hovered above her before her head dipped to press a tender kiss to her lady’s lips.

“Tired?” Ava murmured.

Cecilia hummed a reply with a nod.

“Too tired for me?” The suggestive tone made her brows raise in question.

“Depends on what you had in mind,” she teased, fingertips dancing along the neckline of the aged shirt she wore.

“Nothing too taxing, I assure you.” The smile on her face made Cecilia melt.

Eager fingers pushed open the poorly tied robe. No matter how many times Ava witnessed her beauty, the curves of Cecilia’s body would never fail to leave her speechless. Where Ava was hard muscles and sharp lines, her lover was soft skin and rounded edges.

“You are beautiful.” She kissed the plushness of her cheek, trailing down her neck.

“Beautiful.” Her lips kissed the point of her shoulder and traveled across her collarbone.

“Beautiful.” Ava’s head bent to kiss between her breasts.

She watched her pursuit through hooded eyes, a smile unmoving from her face. What had she done to deserve such a woman?

“Ava,” she whispered, drawing the lustful gaze to her own. “I love you.”

Her movements stuttered for a brief moment before she surged forward, capturing her in a kiss that left them both breathless.

“You are my everything, little bird.” Large hands cupped either side of her face as she covered her in a look of adoration. “For I love you so much, I cannot stand it.”

Cecilia moved to situate herself on her knight’s lap, her arms winding around her neck, ready to lose herself in their embrace. Ava held her just as tightly. She seemed determined to not let go.

Their quiet was interrupted by a thought proposed aloud.

“Marry me.”

The lady pulled back, eyes widening. “What?”

Ava’s eyes glanced away from sudden nerves. “Marry me so I shall be able to call you mine for the rest of our lives.”

Her lips parted in surprise quickly turned into a smile. 

“Look at me,” she finally said.

Reluctantly, Ava complied.

Cecilia held her face with such tenderness, she was sure they both would melt. “There is nothing more I want than to be yours for eternity.”

“So?” Hope blossomed in her gaze.

“Of course I will marry you.”

The smile on Ava’s face surely would put the brightness of the sun to shame as she pulled her close, showering her with kisses and declarations of love through Cecilia’s giggles.

[blues-fandom-bullshit]

“Primal” | Ren X Reader

Catagory- Angsty Fluff

Warnings- Monster/Human relationships; Dependence; Light Blood/Gore mention; Very slight self harm mention if you read into it;

Reader- Gender Neutral. First POV.

Count-

Words- 1,697 Character count- 7,441 Character count (total)- 9,071

This became much longer than I intended.

Ren was a good monster. At least, he tried to be. It was just.. Hard for him sometimes. Especially now.

You'd cut yourself on a blade making some dinner, and all you'd seen when he stepped into the room a moment after you'd gasped in pain, a look of pure worry on his face was an enlarging eyelight that lost it's softness to the edges, his expression melting from concern to neutral and then hunger.

After that, you were pinned down. On the floor with a drooling, hungry looking skeleton looming over you as he opened his jaw to reveal his sharp teeth.

"R-Ren!" You yelled, bringing your hands in front of yourself for protection. You knew of his feral ways, having encountered them before, but sometimes that hunger took over the side of him that wanted to protect you and just a loving boyfriend.

This seemed to snap him out of his trance as in an instant his pressure was off of you and your pantry door was flung open and then the door leading outside.

Gone in just a few seconds.

Ren didn't want to lose himself to his instincts every time your scent left his nose, or every time he smelled blood, or heard pained sounds.

But.. He did. And all he saw in that moment as he loomed above your scared form was the sight of you cowering from him.. His mind flashed to a gruesome image of his teeth sinking into your skin to tear out the tender muscle..

But he couldn't let himself do that. Not to you.

You were the only thing that could keep him grounded. That could keep his mind stable. And he honestly didn't know what he would do with or to himself if he lost you.

You were way too precious to him. He wasn't sure if he could live on with the fact he hurt you if he ever did.

So, he was racing through trees, trying to push off his magic swirling as he soon dropped from two feet to four, ignoring the trees smacking his face and trying to catch at his clothes.

Meanwhile, you'd swiftly washed out your cut and bandaged it as you went after your boyfriend.

Some would say the relationship wasn't normal. Which it wasn't.

A human and a monster wasn't common. Let alone a skeleton monster.

A monster with so many issues it was hard to keep track of at time. And yet.. You still stayed by him. You still loved him despite everything.

That's why you couldn't leave him alone and scared.

You knew it wasn't his fault. He hadn't been in control of himself for who knows how long. Letting his animalistic side run rampant while he was caged up inside his mind must have been horrible. And it was.

So, you had to follow him. Follow him despite everything. Even if he ended up hurting you -which you doubted he'd ever do.

It wasn't hard to find his trail. The trampled shrubs, pushed over and broken small trees and the still slightly shaking vegetation.

As quickly and steadily as you could, you rushed through the walls of trees, slipping under branches and occasionally tripping over rocks in the way.

Finally, you caught sight of red magic swirling further ahead in a cave. This was nearly the reptilian territory, and waking them wasn't good at all.

A sliver of panic met your soul. Domni and Viper wouldn't go after you, no, they liked you. They'd go after Ren, having bad blood with the werewolf and being territorial.

Quieting your steps, you slowly eased your way into the caves mouth. Was this even Ren? Or had you mistaken the bright red for the crimson and deep red of the more aggressive magic wielders?

Your answer was revealed when you caught sight of a curled up skeleton, knees to his chest and bright red swollen eyelight small and shaking. Oh no.. He was having an episode.

Others had told you how dangerous he could be right after his instincts took over. How no one could reach him even if they wanted to.

But.. You were different. You calmed him down. You were his remedy to this.

"Ren," You whispered, kneeling down to start crawling towards him. "Baby, I'm here." You reassured, reaching towards the eye trained in you, only to flinch back when he tried to snap at your hand.

"Ren, sweetheart.." You tried again, lowering your volume more. His ear was folded back, but they started to perk at your words as the sharp edges to his eyelight started to expand ever so slightly.

"It's me, Love. It's me. It's okay baby, I'm right here. Come here baby." You encouraged, sitting back some and opening your arms up for him.

Ren seemed to hesitate, a low growl starting to grow in his throat, before it cut itself off with you gently shushing him while looking into his eyes.

This seemed to calm him down more than you thought it would. Well, you always had an affect on him.

His pupil softened ever so slightly, and he pulled himself from his ball of panic onto his hands and feet. Unlike the other legged skeletons around, Ren's feet were wolf-like in structure. They had the knee, which came down to his ankle and then slanted in a sharp diagonal slope down to his toes with an odd L shape, allowing for him to be better versatile on his four limbs.

Instead of looking at you with the adoration you were used to, he had a primal hunger as fear flashed in you for the briefest moment. Yes, he could hurt you. But, you knew, knew, he wouldn't.

This was your Ren.

Crossing your legs in front of you, you spread your arms wider for him, eyes trained with his.

However, when he opened his jaw to snarl -an animalistic, beast-like sound- your eyes broke that contact to stare at the sharp, glimmering teeth as drool started to sleep from the edge of his mouth.

This moment, this one measly moment, could have cost you your life.

As soon as your orbs broke from his iris, he pounced and completely shrouded your form with his massive frame.

Almost instantly, his face was in your neck. Terror ran through you as the thoughts of your life being taken then and there with a cut off scream that ended in gurgles was enough for what you thought your last words would be.

“Ren!”

.

.

.

Nothing..

Everything seemed to freeze in that moment.

Ren’s teeth were only just grazing passed the first layer or two of the skin on your throat as you felt his magic pulse through his opened jaw, but.. It seemed to slowly calm it’s rapid beating. With this happening, Ren’s mind was coming to him.

He blinked. Once. Twice.

Suddenly, he yanked his mouth back to stare down at your face in utter horror of his actions. Before he could pull himself off of your body, your arms reached out to wrap around his neck and pull him back down to you.

As he tried to voice his protest, which only made you pull him in even closer. You knew well enough he could just shove himself from your body with his unnatural strength, but he didn’t want to even risk hurting you.

He growled lightly, but when you gave but a small hushing it faded to a whimper. He could act tough, but you saw through it.

A moment later, his tense body relaxed over yours. Your smell filling his nose as his arms wrapped up under your back and waist. He picked you up and sat back, leaning against the cave wall with his nasal buried into your skin.

Gently kissing the side of his head, you kept your arms around his neck. From an outside view, this may have looked romantically adorable, but from your point? It could have been your life. It could have been his sanity.

When he calmed down, pulling his skull from between your shoulder and head, his eyelight was softened, watching you with pure and utter love for a moment.

But only a moment.

Suddenly, tears began filling up the lower edge of his eye socket.

To others, it would sound like a growl, or the call of a beast or demon. To you? It was a painful, hurting sob that erupted from his throat as he pulled you as close as possible to his body, leaving his body in the most heartbreaking way.

Gently shushing him while he wrapped his large hands around your body, his arm hooking under your waist to pull you close to his chest, burying your face into his chest while the other reached up to tangle itself into your hair.

Some would say you needed to leave him. To find someone else. Someone more stable. But, some would also leave you be in your relationship and time with Ren.

Some were the reptile brothers. Which had just appeared in the mouth of the cave to stare in with wide, panicked eyes as they went to rush forward while opening their jaws to yell.

They both froze when you turned your head to glare at them while raising a hand up to tell them to stop.

Ren never took well to being yelled at, and definitely wouldn’t be able to take that now.

Despite his high senses, he seemed to be unable to notice neither Domni nor Viper despite their powerful auras. Or he just didn't care at that moment.

Gently shushing the giant creature atop you, your arms wrapped around him.

One around his neck with your palm on his skull and the other gently stroking his ear.

This would take a while to settle his mind, but it would be worth it. You two would have to start resistance training, which Ren would be reluctant to.. Then you'd bribe him with a long cuddle session and kisses.

If anyone tried to say anything to your lovely monster, you'd be quick to scold them.

He was trying.

He was a good monster.

He was, especially, yours.

[kaori-kozume]

My creepypasta oc’s

Hey … My name is Alexiane. I imagine you are there to know my story …

(Y / N agrees with a yes from the head).

Ah ~ … well, listen well.

In a small village in France, lived Alexiane Ruireau, a young woman aged 17 surrounded by her family and her little brother with whom she was 7 years apart.

Despite the peace and tranquility in her home, outside her home, everything is not so rosy. Some people regard it as a potential painkiller that can be easily influenced. They harassed her, humiliated her and made her all “filthy” to display it even more than enough.

Studies, community life and all kinds of extravagant interaction, all seem to complicate things for her, who is an introvert and suffering from dysphasia.

Every day, she predicted the worst as it was her daily life. She planned at least more than 3 spare cases following her last humiliation.

Victimize outside, Adored by her little brother and banal relationship with her parents.

And of course, she kept everything in silence and behaved like everyone was normal. Maybe this is all normal now? Maybe his life will always be like that after all …

One day, she took the road as usual to go to high school, lost in thought while walking straight ahead … that she did not realize that she was no longer on the sidewalks but in the middle of the road until hearing the sound of a car horn that makes it sound to the ears.

And it was at that moment, Alexiane froze in front of the vehicle which arrived at full speed and closed her eyes so as to no longer feel the suffering.

“It’s the end, huh … So goodbye”

And it was at that moment, Alexiane froze in front of the vehicle which arrived at full speed and closed her eyes so as to no longer feel the suffering.

And suddenly … she felt jostled to the side and dropped to the ground.

Suddenly … no more noise and she was still lying on the ground.

“You should take care of yourself, my dear. You might injure everyone you love.” says a voice that could be an inner voice

She opened her eyes gently and saw that nothing had happened on her way and that there was nobody. She got up and left in the direction of the school in the innocence of this event.

Arriving at school, everything was calm. Not a single person took Alexiane’s attention so she set off for the locker room to prepare for the sports class. But as soon as she was finished preparing, she turned around to face a group of people so some had something in hand.

“Why? … why are you doing this to me?” she said frightened.

“Why ?! HAHAHAHA! Why? You are such a miserable being, a junk on your feet. You deserve to suffer like a beast that you are!” he said one of the stalkers.

One of the people lifted a kind of fairly solid object and struck her on the back while another threw her a product spell which burned her on one of her eyes.

Alexiane cried out in pain from the blows and fell with a loss of balance which knocked her behind the head and succumbed in shock.

A few days later, Alexiane opened her eyes gently but everything was blurred, she felt excruciating pain in the back, a headache and one of her eyes was blindfolded. She was on a hospital bed, with a blood drip and a machine that controlled her heartbeat.

As soon as she regained consciousness, she saw her little brother lying down beside her, sleeping. Seeing him so reassured her made him forget his pain until his parents and the doctor entered the room.

Her parents had died of uneasiness and so relieved that she was waking up. But as soon as one of them squeezed her tight at the level of the back, she screamed in pain, which makes her little brother wake up with a start of fear.

“Ouch! But what happened !? Why am I having back pain ?! Why am I so ?! And why am I here ?!”

The doctor spoke:

“Miss, you were the victim of a head trauma during your fall and many bruises on your body and mainly, at the level of the back, where the pain comes from. And someone has bleached you on a part where is your right eye. ”

“… can I see …” she said in a monotonous tone

“Better not, it would risk you …”

“I WANT TO SEE IT NOW!”

Her little brother was frightened by the tone of her sweet sister’s voice. The doctor sighed and demanded that she asked.

Alex got up from her bed to face the mirror and she removed the bandage where her faulty eye was. After a few rounds of bandaging remove, she faced her reflection.

His eye was clearer, almost transparent and the iris which was more defective off-white

Alexiane couldn’t believe what she saw. She who adored her magnificent pure blue eyes has become a massacre.

But it was hearing his brother’s sobbing that made him realize what was behind it.

Everything was silent … One of her parents tried to reassure her by her new appearance but it was that the knife returned to the wound.

“GO AWAY! LEAVE ME ALONE! and she burst into tears on the floor facing the mirror.

They leave the room, leaving her alone in this room. And she got up and stared at the mirror and turned to examine the condition of her back.

His back was destroyed. Covered with large cuts hide by the seams. Alexiane remained silent at this vision of horror but instead of still crying or even remaining sad, she was … empty like this all her sense of her life was suddenly gone and her humanity erased.

"Ooooh ~ My dear Alex ~ It hurts me so much to see you like this. So damaged, destroyed. But rest assured, my cute ~, you will take revenge, you will pay them all the suffering it caused you.”

“I recognize that voice! It is the same one that saved me from the car accident! Who are you ?! Why are you following me ?!”

“What do I want? My dear, I am only your guardian angel. The one who watches over you and who doubtless saves you in delicate situations”

“If that’s the case, why not have saved me when I faced death under his blows!”

“I saved you, my sweet. If I hadn’t intervened, you will be more of this world where even there again.”

Alexiane had a hard time believing what she heard. She was starting to lose her mind.

“So may I know the name of the one who saved me?” she ask.

“I told you. I am your angel …”

“NO! A real name and even see this person”

“… do you want to meet me?”

“Yes I want”

“All right, but it will have to stay between us, is that clear, darling?”

“Okay, but stop calling me that! I have a name, you know!”

“Close your eyes”

She obeys his request as he obeys hers.

“You can open your eyes, Alexiane”

“You see that you …” she said this, opening her eyes and stopped short at what she saw.

She saw a man in his twenties, brown hair and tie, eyes a lighter blue than hers with a scar on one of his eyes which must not be dated today. And clothes a little damage especially the jeans with holes (Maybe a fashion)

“Hey! I’m here!” he said, spanking her regain consciousness. “You wanted to see me … There you go! So … Satisfied?”

“I … I never thought of it as an apparition”

“Oh? You expected a big misty cloud that blinds you and a mystical appearance like … The devil coming out of the ground like this” and he sneered at his words.

“No! I mean … No! Drop it. But how did you find out there? I don’t remember seeing you enter this school?”

“I heard the noise and I found you so so I dismiss the savages and call an ambulance (and a teacher too). And it’s true, I’m not in this school, let’s say I have escaped the control of the school. ”

“Hmm. Good whatever. Now I’m awful. My back with huge disgusting marks and my eye … I can’t face myself anymore. Leave as much as you can and leave me in my solitude , I’m used to being let loose like common waste. ”

… but he did not move.

“Alexiane ~ Precious Alexiane ~. Do you think I came here and to have saved you twice in the same day to abandon you?

He raised his long strand of hair that covered his defective eye. Alexiane blushed at his tender gesture.

Oh no no! I’m here, sure to be your guardian angel but I’m here because I also expect something from you ”

“About what”

“I see that you are destroyed for what is happening in your miserable human life and I have a request to make and that will give you good profit”

“What?”

“Destroy your stalkers”

“What?!”

“Kill them, disintegrate them, make them disappear, Ka-boom!”

“I … I can’t do this” “I can’t …”

“You want to hurt them, don’t you? Hmm?”

* Alex visualizes all his life which made him enter a deep black hatred *

“Yes … yes, I want it”

“Oh? Do you want to, my pretty one? Pleased to put her down ~.” “Oh but don’t worry, I can do the dirty work for you if it’s really necessary. You just have to give it the first shot and I’ll take care of the rest. Don’t worry.”

“So…”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t tell me your name. If you want me to contact you.”

He approached her and took her hand.

“Edwin … Edwin Hydekyll, Partner”

And it is from this day that I made linked to this person.

She was subjected to some tests at the hospital to finally leave this place.

2 days later, I went back to school, even against the will of my parents and myself, but I have a vengence to start with my new partner who is … not there.

”(How am I going to do this if he’s not there!)“

And suddenly someone entered the school and approached her when the other people didn’t notice her.

She moved straight ahead to go to a secluded place and stopped to turn around.

"Hey, I ended up finding you, dear”

He had a different outfit than the first time they met. A burgundy sweater, black jeans and the hair still tied.

“So? What are you going to do?” he said

“I don’t know, I don’t know how to do it”

“Um … well, I have an idea how you could make your plan into execution. You choose a victim, where are you going to get rid of it and what do you want to end it with?”

“I…”

“Think well, my dear! Not everyone escapes death”

“I know!” she took out a class photo which she kept in her bag.

“He is Simon. He is a boxing fighter. He is the one who hit me repeatedly when I was on the ground. And I have an idea to get rid of him”

A few minutes later, it’s time for a sports lesson (Alexiane had to change in the bathroom so as not to reproduce what happened). Until hearing a screeching howl that attracted everyone and saw the lifeless body of Simon, completely disfigured. It is a huge shock from this event,

A few days later, it was that of Petunia, Broken in two following numerous violent trampling until the column was broken. Then that of Elliot, who was found hanging with his arms tied in the air and beaten up again and again with a containing object leaving marks entirely visible.

And finally, on the last day of revenge, it is now time for Delphine’s. But this was very noticeable and difficult to reach so great help from Edwin was required to lure him into the trap. Alex gave her the sensitive points of it.

“I didn’t know you could do this!”she said

“There are things you don’t know, my dear ~.But stay impressed. ;) ”

Alexiane let out a small sneer of joy at her words.

“Hey, beautiful kid ~ I need help with something, could you come and help me ~? Said Delphine

"Yes, of course”

He leaves with her, out of Alexiane to prepare for the final plan.

“A piece of advice my pretty one, don’t come near her! She’s just useless waste.”

“Oh ~? And why so?”

“She is weak and vulnerable, so much less than nothing. She should die for her unnecessary existence.”

Edwin refrained from annihilating him right away for Alex’s plan and he came up with an idea to get him trapped.

“Come with me, baby ~ I have something for you that will make you happy ~”

“Oh ~ I would like to see that”

They leave the interior of the school to put it in a dead end wall and no way out. And they kissed for a long time until Alexiane found herself behind her and struck her on the neck.

She fell into the apples and took her to the equipment room while waiting for the night.

The night is there, Delphine woke up under the light close to her face and noticed that she was tied to a chair with rope.

“What is that? Untie me right away!”

“No no no, my pretty ~”

She turned around and saw him sitting next to her (He still has his transformation).

“You sick fellow! You did that! Untie me right away!”

“No … it’s me” and Alexiane appeared with a sharp, heavy object in her hand. “Did you sleep well, princess ~”

“YOU … I suspected that it is you who is behind all of this! You are disgusting and horrible! Psychopathic waste!”

“No. Delphine. You are the psychopath in history and the creator of your masterpiece. Look at me! You changed me …! You are the one who is at the origin of all this! Hahahaha!”

“You’re crazy, CRAZY! You and your bastard next door who …”

“HAHAHAHAHAH!” Edwin laughed at his words. “Hah! A bastard, let me show something my little one”

“So…? Scared?”

“Now that you’ve seen this, look at this!” She showed her back full of scars.

“I am going to throw up

"It’s not over, and that’s it!” She showed her defective eye. “It’s all your fault, you rotten my life, you destroyed everything I was and you destroyed me physically. And you’re going to suffer for that.” and she glared at him in front of her.

“… ha … HA … HAHAHAHAHHA! You! You are going to do nothing to me! You are so useless! Unable to act alone! You are weak, rotten and helpless. HAHAHAHHA!”

“Alex, give me the tool …”

“Yeah Alex, give him the tool ~. Him, he will be what to do. Compare to you who is nothing at all! HAHAHAHHAHA!

Alexiane trembled, clutching the sharp object firmly.

"So loser! You’re losing your temper! You don’t know how to use this object!”

“SHUT UP!” And she lifted it over her head and hit it over and over again, repeating the same words until it looked like nothing.

Alexiane stopped dead and saw what she did, she turned to Ed who was very surprised by his act. The truth, he didn’t know how to react. If he were to be praised or frightened. She trembled strongly until she fell to her knees and wept hot tears. Ed aggenouya towards her to calm her down but her tears were not tears of fear or sadness, but tears of joy. She finally felt free from her chain which made her consume slowly.

“Yes, my dear. Well done to you. Now we have to leave before someone sees us”

They fled with the object in their hands and quickly left school. They hid the tool away in the forest and he took it home (through the window of her room)

“Woah … What a delight, darling ~”

She sneered at his words and suddenly thought of something crazy.

“Do you have something in mind, dear?”

“What if … and if I go. With you.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to leave this world that destroyed me and live a life … exciting with you. And I believe that …” Killing “is so stimulating …” “Yes Ed! I want us to go far away from here ”

“Is this your dearest wish, My little angel?”

“Let me prepare something and we will leave”

After a few minutes of preparation, they left the house in silence.

“Where are we going now?” She says

“I know a place that will welcome destroyed souls. Don’t worry, you’re going to enjoy it there with me.”

And they disappeared in the dark smoke of the forest fog.

Small end bonus:

The little brother went to Alexiane’s room and saw that she was not there. The window was open and a letter was placed on the bed. He took it and read what was written:

“To the person who will read this letter”

I left the house without warning you, I’m sorry but I decided to leave for good this hell that I lived for a long time. I blame myself for never having told you, even behind my smile, I could not exorcise my pain. I suffered from harassment for a long time and decided to change my life differently. I left everything behind to start a new life elsewhere. I don’t want you to suffer from my pain for making such a change. But be sure, I’m fine, I’m going to get by on my own and I will never forget you.

Just for my last request, do not look for me, do not try to look for me or contact the police, they will not be of any help and utility. All I have is stay here.

Living your life every moment is very precious and I wish it to you too.

“For my adored little brother”. I’m sorry. I failed in my role as a big sister. But now, I give you my role to be in charge of taking care of the parents and I believe in you for this. Know that I had the pleasure of being your big sister and stayed in your heart “

I strongly embrace you

Alexiane, The Avenging Angel.

 dang that’s long

[lovecraftian-druid]

Pactborn VI

“You ready to do some treasure hunting today, kiddo?” 

K’Sirr’s voice broke Ka’l’s concentration as she stared absentmindedly at a pod of blue whales swimming along the surface of the Rocsanee Ocean, their blowholes spewing water like great geysers.

Ka’l never fully understood the liking K’Sirr had taken to her. Perhaps it had to do with feeling responsible for her after inviting her to join his crew; or maybe it was because she was so much younger than any of his other shipmen; or possibly that he felt a kinship based on their mutual love for sailing; some even speculated that it was because of her relation to a famous admiral of the Felgran Fleet. Whatever the case, it was no surprise to the rest of the crew when Ka’l quickly rose through the ranks. It was even less surprising when K’Sirr - after only seven months aboard the Sea Wolf - invited her along on a Trover quest, a type of hunt for great treasure hoards. Lore of these massive bounties were usually only learned about within the Trovers Guild, a group of pirates whose life’s work was to discover legendary riches and wondrous items. 

The young pirate pocketed her compass as she made her way to the side of the ship that housed the utility boats: there, two other Trovers perched on crates, preparing for the dive ahead of them. One of them - a blue dragonborn sorcerer by the name of Zandynn - sat cutting a small reed into pieces in preparation for a ritual spell while the other (Candid, a roguish tiefling) fitted her many daggers into her belt. As K’Sirr arrived on the scene, a lumpy roughspun sack clutched tightly in one hand, he looked expectantly at Ka’l: “Aren’t you missing something?” He smiled a toothy grin as he lifted the weighted bag in his hand, and Ka’l realized that the others also had similar sacks waiting on the deck next to their feet.

“Oh, uh, no, I didn’t think I’d need one - I’m a pretty strong swimmer,” Ka’l stammered, trying her best to speak with confidence.

The three of them chuckled wryly before Zandynn spoke: “Little lady, the way we’re traveling, you won’t need to swim.”

“It’s Ka’l,” K’Sirr corrected him with a sidelong glance, “she prefers Ka’l, so that’s what you can call her.” Zandynn rolled his eyes as he commenced his casting of the ritual spell, and K’Sirr turned his focus back to Ka’l, winking at her as he lifted the lid of a nearby barrel to retrieve one more bag that - as she learned upon inspecting it - was filled with a single large rock. He handed it to her and explained, “You’ll tie this to your waist to keep your body from trying to float back up to the surface.”

Ka’l gave a nod of understanding and began tying off a neat square knot about her mid-drift while Zandynn finished his incantations. She wasn’t expecting the odd sensation of the set of arcane gills that suddenly formed along the sides of her neck as he finished the casting of the spell with a somatic flourish, and it took her a moment to realize that she could still breathe air normally as she ran her fingers over the foreign bodily addition. Her eyes widened as she turned to face Zandynn: “this is amazing!” she gushed, genuinely.

K’Sirr smiled proudly and stepped to the edge of the ship, motioning for the dinghy to be run out for the small group. “With that, I believe we should be ready to depart - Gahjeel, you’re in command while I’m away!” he hollered up to the black tabaxi as he lept gracefully into the small boat. Ka’l and the others followed, and as they rowed out towards some shoals, Ka’l continued to play with her strange new gills.

The two shipmates carried on a lighthearted conversation as Ka’l watched K’Sirr, his eyes pressed shut in concentration as he twirled a forked twig around with his thumb and forefinger, all the while humming a tune under his breath. Ka’l always marveled at the use of magic and was so impressed by K’Sirr and those with whom he associated: she hoped to one day be able to achieve the same arcane wonders these folks were able to accomplish.

Lost in thought over what it must be like to cast such incredible magic, Ka’l jumped a little when K’Sirr declared loudly, “Here! Stop!”

The rare and elusive Necklace of Fireballs: K’Sirr and his crew had been seeking this treasure for the last few months now, since before Ka’l had joined the Sea Wolf. Now, thanks to a reliable tip and a handy divination spell, they were merely a dive away from having it within their grasp.

The others situated their things securely in the small boat as Ka'l dropped the anchor and peered down into the waters below: the shallows afforded her a view of what looked to be large shoals of multicolored coral growing all shapes and sizes. The dinghy began to rock a little, and Ka'l turned to see the others holding their stone-filled bags, ready to take the plunge. Ka'l followed suit, gathering up the rough sack in her arms.

"Are we ready?" K'Sirr asked, making brief eye contact with each member. Nods gave him the affirmation he needed, and he looked at Ka'l with an ornery twinkle in his eye as he patted her on the back. "After you, my dear."

Eager to impress her captain and establish some credibility among her crew, Ka'l scrambled to her feet in the wobbly boat as it swayed unsteadily. Without hesitation, she pulled the stone close to her chest and made an attempt at jumping overboard - this exciting milestone quickly developed into a bit of an embarrassing one though as her toe caught the lip of the dinghy, throwing the boat off-balance (to the gasping surprise of the others) and sending her splashing torso-first against the surface of the water before sinking deeper, her stone having knocked some of the wind from her now-waterbreathing lungs.

As bubbles floated with urgency from her mouth rising rapidly towards the light of day above, Ka'l opened her eyes to behold the beautiful underwater world she had just entered: schools of fish flitted in and out of reef croppings while small crustaceans skimmed the currents for tasty food particles; a neon-colored parrotfish crunched its hard beak down on some faded coral as a eel lunged from within its kelpy hiding place to catch its prey.

Enraptured by this tropical wonderland, she took a moment to explore the tiny reef. It wasn't until she felt something aggressively ram into her followed by a sharp, piercing pain that she realized something was wrong - as the water around her plumed with crimson clouds of her own blood, Ka'l twisted at her hips to find her thigh locked down upon by the jaws of a hungry tiger shark, seemingly drawn by the sound of her loud dive. More bubbles escaped her mouth as she tried to scream for help, flailing violently in an attempt to tear herself free of its razor-sharp teeth. With her hands extended before her, pushing with all her might against the creature's sandpaper-like snout, Ka'l felt a surge of arcane power course through her panicked body. 

Something happened in that moment of terror: something Ka’l would ever forget, something that would change her life forever. As she felt her body begin to go into shock, the blood pumping loud within her ears, two golden slitted eyes flashed within her mind, sending her body into overdrive. With her hand pressed against the shark’s face, her eyes shot open again as her hand released an unbridled beam of crackling turquoise energy: as the eldritch blast struck the creature in the face, it sent a shock wave of force rippling through the water between them, swirling the streams of bloodied water billowing through the reef. 

The shark - surprised and perturbed - released its hold on Ka’l as it felt itself pushed back a bit from the force; however, this was not enough to frighten it away. With resolved bloodlust, the shark circled back for another attack. Her head still swimming with adrenaline, confusion, and blood loss, Ka’l looked on in absolute horror as the massive beast swam hard in her direction. As the rock tied about her waist began to sink her like a stone, she was able to see the familiar form of her captain standing at the bottom of the shoal’s sandy floor - with one hand extended, she watched as K’Sirr pointed up at the tiger shark and conjured a great sphere of yellow gas right in front of its path. The shark, writhing and reeling as the stinking cloud’s poison assaulted its hypersensitive sense of smell, began thrashing in the water, mingling the red of the blood with the yellow of the gas in a beautiful disaster of brilliant orange for a moment before it turned and swam off at full speed. 

Taking the opportunity to act without risk of attack, K’Sirr cut the rope that tethered his weight and swam with haste towards Ka’l. Pulling her into his arms, he pressed his calico hand firmly against her leg, humming a tender ballad as he comforted her. Ka’l felt the warmth return to her body as the wound slowly closed up. As her eyes regained focus, she tried her best to form the words “thank you” through the water.

Pointing to the noxious cloud of stench that was beginning to thin as the sea cycled the current about, K’Sirr did his best to communicate to her that time was of the essence. 

Ka’l scanned the watery depths for Zandynn and Candid: she saw them striding towards them, kicking up small bits of sand as they moved. Candid appeared to be sheathing two of her daggers as they walked - it looked as though they had not fully escaped without an encounter of their own. 

K’Sirr waved them closer, pulling the forked twig from his pocket and casting his locating spell once more after fetching his weight stone. Like a divining rod moving in response to hidden water, K’Sirr concentrated as his material component began leading him in the direction of his prize. Ka’l and the others followed closely, looking about in all directions out of a well-founded fear for what else might be lurking in the waters around them. 

After only a minute, Ka’l noticed that K’Sirr’s pace had quickened as he followed the path bestowed by his spell. Nearly beelining towards an embankment of fuchsia coralline, K’Sirr stashed his component and dropped to all fours, digging in the silty sand at the base of the coral and fan-like seaweeds. Ka’l joined in, shoulder to shoulder with him as she dug. Dirt and soggy debris littered the water around them as they clawed at the loose ground while Candid and Zandynn stood watch like sentinels. 

Ka’l felt the contagious excitement of the hunt creep up on her as they scooped more and more sand aside - tossing a glance in his direction, she saw the boyish look of absolute joy on K’Sirr’s face as he dug for the long-awaited treasure. Plunging her cupped hands into the granulated floor with renewed enthusiasm, she felt her nails scrape against something hard and metallic. She paused, her head spinning like a swivel to lock dilated eyes with K’Sirr in unspoken amazement. Sinking their fists deep into the sand, they groped about to find a pair of round anchor-chainlink handles. With a few struggled heaves, Ka’l helped K’Sirr dislodge the chest from beneath the seafloor. 

Stepping forward from his post, Zandynn put his face close to the lock that dangled from the chest, its metal crusty with rust and barnacles, as he spoke a muffled incantation. At the last punctuation of the spell, the padlock slid down, unlocked, as it dangled loose at the front of the chest. Wiggling its corroded loop free, K’Sirr slowly and almost reverently lifted the lid of the iron trunk.

Ka’l had never seen so much gold in all her life. 

Candid and Zandynn moved in, discarding the stones from their sacks and replacing them instead with fistfuls of coins, while K’Sirr - unconcerned with the monetary treasure - sifted through the riches for his trophy. Finding the necklace, he held it up to his own chest for a moment as if to mockingly model it to Ka’l as he brimmed with exuberance from ear to ear. He delicately draped the piece of jewelry into his chest pocket (careful not to jostle its eight magma-colored beads too roughly) before reaching back into the iron box to retrieve a single ruby gemstone along with a simple gold chain, its middle links slightly damaged. Pulling two lodestones from his pouch, his wild jade-colored eyes met Ka’l’s as he touched the stones against the chain and the gem, causing them to fuse into one. 

With a circular motion of his index finger, K’Sirr had Ka’l turn around so that he could gift her his creation: a beautiful maang tikka which he helped fit to her forehead. Ka’l pawed at the piece of jewelry - she wasn’t usually much for wearing any sort of ornamentation, but she could sense already that this item would hold much sentimental value to her for years to come. 

At long last pleased with his find, K’Sirr motioned for the group to wrap up their adventure. Excited to return with her own plunder, Ka’l emptied her bag of its rock as well and quickly shoveled the remaining gold and gemstones into the woven sack. Zandynn and Candid gave her a pat on the back and a sincere thumbs-up as they tied off the openings of their stuffed bags.

With a hard push off the ground and several propelling kicks, Ka’l swam upwards towards the glistening fractal rays of sunlight; and for the first time since joining the crew, she finally felt like she belonged.

=============================================================

Sorry for the delay in posting: I had a terrible case of the flu last week and just COULDN’T.

If you enjoyed this chapter of Ka’l Bahriin’s story, please be sure to read the previous five chapters of her series, Pactborn.

Ye Olde Taglist: @serenewrites​, @mayvinwrites​

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, send me a message. :)

[shewolfofficial]

Could you do a Levi x reader where the reader and Levi are in a situation like Armin and Eren were where Levi is just about to get eaten but throws him out and gets eaten instead but just before reader is eaten they confess to Levi (like her eren mentioned armin and his dream) but he’s just a second too late to save them. You can make it a happy ending if you’d like somehow, or not, up to you

This is such a good idea! Love it!

Warning: Cursing, Slight Violence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Blank

That’s what Levi’s mind was like now, he didn’t feel fear, he wasn’t sad; he was just blank. He didn’t realise he had run out of gas and blades until he tumbled to the tiled rooftop right in front of one of those man-eating monsters. Staring down to the smaller human with a bloodlust intent the titan began to rise it’s hand up toward Levi to pick him up.

Disappointed

Levi was disappointed that he didn’t take responsibility for his blades and gas, he was disappointed that he’d go out this way. Oh how he wished to see your E/C eyes sparkle in the sunlight with hope and a hint of determination one last time. How he would’ve loved to toy with the H/C strands of your silky hair as you snuggled up to his chest. Yet, you weren’t his. Levi’s undeniable feelings for you were strong, very strong. But the thing is… Did you feel the same way?

It was like all sorts of emotions and senses came back to him all at once, feeling like he had been drenched in an ice cold bucket of water Levi widened his eyes from shock as he quickly read the situation.

He was dangling from his cape over the opening end the titan was giving from beneath, a gentle breeze played with Levi’s ebony locks as they hung downwards towards the ground as he hung highly from it. Why was there an irritating ringing in his ear? Why did he instantly start to regret his careless choice when he loomed over the endless pits of death? One voice pierced the air like the gods have sent an angel, just for him to hear.

Tearing his dull gaze from the pits of the titan's mouth Levi snapped his head to the side seeing you desperately trying to fly to him. “F-F/N?” he couldn’t believe his eyes as you sped up towards him with horror and fright written all over your face. “Captain-!” you called out just as Levi was dropped into the titan's mouth, letting out surprising yells as he slipped into the slimy cavern of the titan whilst it lowered its head down to look forward again.

Frantically scraping and clawing along the tongue of the titan Levi felt something grip his wrist as his anxious eyes met your own. Flaming ones drowned with determination and a fiery passion to keep your superior safe. ‘She’s a real fucking goddess…’ he thought looking at your gorgeous face. Grunting slightly you gripped on tighter to Levi as he held onto your arm. “Captain- I got you! Don’t worry” you say using all the energy you have you swiftly turn your body and fire Levi back out of the titan’s mouth onto the rooftop mere inches away from you and the titan.

Landing on the tiled roof with a grunt of pain Levi ignored the sticky wet substance that clung to his uniform and body. Scrambling to his knees at the edge of the roof Levi watched as you climbed to the front of the titan's mouth. One hand resting on the top teeth of the titan as if you were fighting against it to keep its jaw open.

Reaching one arm out to Levi you gave him a gentle look as he reached out to you, a desperate look cast onto his once cold features “F/N no!” he cried out to you seeing you struggle. “Ca-Captain! Go! Save Humanity! Bu-But remember! I love you-!” you were cut off when the titan's jaws clamped down taking your arm off in one swift movement, sending its head back the titan proceeded to swallow you.

Sat there in shock, Levi’s entire façade fell then and there as he let out pained screams and cries, tears found themselves streaming down his pale cheeks as he looked onwards towards the beast that had mercilessly eaten his saviour. Cries lessening down to sobs he stood up wincing from the slight pain in his side; Levi shot one terrifying glare back towards the titan as he took off running the opposite way.

A loud booming and an ear-splitting screech erupted from behind him, spinning around he watched as an H/C female titan stood up with large amounts of steam seeping from it upwards into the sky. Sending a rough punch to a smaller titan that appeared by it the smaller one was sent flying before the H/C ripped out its nape. Standing there in a slight daze Levi watched as the new titan turned to him. Sun shining down onto it as it approached him, mouth agape partially his gunmetal orbs followed your hand as you held it out for him to climb onto.

Hesitantly getting on, Levi was then raised to your shoulder where he stood holding onto a strand of your H/C hair that danced freely in the wind as you walked with Levi on your shoulder like a little ant. A small titan came running towards you both but before it came in contact with you-you sent the smaller thing a firm kick sending it into the sky off to a different direction. Hearing a grunt come from you Levi looked over your titan's features, it was somewhat like a mixture of Eren’s titan and Annie’s titan. Around the same height as well as if not a tad bit taller.

Noticing a group of Scouts ahead they were quick to notice you as well, blades drawn they almost flipped upon seeing Levi casually stand on your shoulder like it was nothing. “Ca-Captain!?” Eren called out to the raven-haired man looking up to the both of you in astonishment, raising your hand to Levi you let him climb on and proceeded to bring him down to the rooftop where Hanji and a few others stood as well.

“Tch.. That’s F/N I don’t know how she’s a fucking titan but she almost died to save me” Levi said earning a slight nod from Hanji as she looked up to your titan form in complete awe. Thumping came from the side causing the group to switch their heads to the sound of it, there came 5 large titans drooling at the sight of the soldiers.

Taking your hand off the edge of the building you sped off towards the beasts and continued to rip them apart, holding a small one by its nape in between your jaws as you recklessly stomped other ones head into the ground. Eventually finishing the titans off you stumbled to the side, confused and concerned eyes watching your every move as you fell to the ground like you have gone unconscious in your human form.

A small 'huh..?’ escaped past Levi’s lips as he looked down to your titan's figure, soon smoke and steam erupted from the nape signalling you had torn yourself out, gulping from slight worry Levi quickly got some blades and hopped off the roof without thinking. Ignoring the calls from the cadets or Hanji as he landed on the ground and darted to you. Clawing his way on top of the large figure he trekked towards the nape where you hung out, still in contact with the titan by a few muscles and tender flesh that wrapped around your wrist like a sleeve.

Seeing your human figure hang there, steam emitting from your skin as your hair sway in the breeze, eyes closed and mouth ever so slightly open; Levi was convinced you were some sort of angel or goddess from the sight of you and how lucky you are. Arriving at your form he dropped to his knees and wrapped his arms around your body like you were a fragile porcelain doll he was terrified to break. Levi placed his hand at the back of your head as he dug his face into the crook of your neck for a few seconds before ripping it away.

Lowering his face down to your chest Levi gently rested his ear against the area where your heart would be hoping you were still with him as his arms now loosely hung around you.

Thump, thump

Thump, thump

Thump, thump

Softened expression and glossy eyes Levi couldn’t battle the gentle smile that tugged on his lips as he rested his head on your chest. Failing to notice a tear straying down his cheek as he took in your warmth.

“You’re a real goddess F/N..”

[elenaescribe]

Shame: A Brief History of Self-Harm

Two years ago, I found myself digging through old writings and personal essays. In a certain piece from 2013, I found a quote that sparked a lot of interest in me:

“I can promise now that everything I write is honest… or at least correct through the eyes of my imagination”

This applies perfectly to the subject I will be tackling today. Why? Because pain and trauma can severely alter the clarity with which we view our memories.

***

It must be some time around 9:15am. I know this because I am rushing to the bathroom, putting on my contact lenses with a deep sense of desperation, scrambling to get ready for the first day of my second year in college. My body aches like if someone had brutally beaten it with a baseball bat. I am not myself nor am I anywhere near being fully present in the moment. Enraged, I race to my parents’ room and vomit all the words chewing me up from the inside out: “I cannot go to class; I am afraid, tired and lonely; I feel out of control; I need to feel numb; I want to gulp down a handful of Xanax; I hate you; I hate myself and the person I’ve recently become” Gasping for air, I continue. “Why aren’t you helping me? Why can’t you see how dead I am? Why are you judging me? Why am I going insane? Help me! Help me! Help me!”

My parents try to calm me down through softened voices. They reach for my wavering arms to try to hug me; my mother’s eyes fill with tears. The hurricane inside roars and off I go to my room, throwing the door and locking it immediately. Hunched over and with my fists curled into trembling spheres, I search for an item- a weapon. Something sharp enough to kill the beast standing over me, breathing hot air against my neck and hissing demonic sentences in my ear. It tells me to reach for the glass cup on my desk. It encourages me to stare at it wildly and imagine a life without my own shadow in it. I can feel the smooth surface against my fingers, a fast solution to temporarily end everything. The beast places its claws over my hand and, together, we throw the cup against the wooden floor.

The glass shatters like thunder against the ground, clear fragments surrounding my bare feet. My eyes widen at the sight of the numerous opportunities of agony beneath me. Without thinking about it twice, I step over the ridged pieces, making my way to the sharpest one my eyes can spot. A loud thump marks the moment in which I fall to my knees, pull down my pajama bottoms and reveal my legs. They feel hollow like the inside of a large trunk. My fingers grip the glass and begin to devour my skin with it; blood pools in new wounds and slowly drips to the floor. I attack my thighs once, twice, three then four then five then six times. There are too many gashes to count. Imagine squeezing a bottle of red food coloring over a crumpled piece of play-dough, that is what my legs look like.

As I release the jagged piece of broken glass, loud voices begin to flood my brain- it’s my parents, banging on the door and begging me to open it. I hadn’t even realized that they’d been there the entire time. My mom’s voice shakes as it tells me to stay calm down and not hurt myself; her tears are somehow visible through the walls of my room. By this point, I’m wailing, and it doesn’t seem possible to move my body. The surface of my skin stings like hell, but I know that the slashes bring me much more relief than pain. My father manages to unlock the door, he sees the mess and lets out a worried sigh. Offering me a hand, he stares at the crimson stains on my thighs.

The first time I self-harmed was in the fifth grade. A boy in class expressed his disgust after learning I had a crush on him. “Her? Gross!” he snarled to a friend. That exclamation was enough to send me down a spiral of self-hatred and despair. Before I knew it, I was on my way to the girls’ bathroom. That year I´d been mercilessly bullied, so I was perfectly used to hiding there when things felt unsafe. Bursting through the door, I glared intensely at my reflection in the mirror: a small girl with hair slicked back into an awkward pony tail, wearing a pair of brown glasses caging her two very disappointed eyes. She looked as if she were drowning in the middle of the ocean, hopeless and terribly afraid.

I angrily kicked one of the stalls open. Young and ignorant, I rolled up my sleeves and began to scratch at my left wrist until it became raw. The skin peeled up to reveal a tender, strawberry-colored layer of flesh. The sight and feel of this should’ve scared me, it should’ve warned me of the consequences of being impulsive. Instead, it made me feel curious and strangely powerful- like if I had just discovered a new way to survive. In a matter of months, I became the girl with bandages around her wrists. The other children murmured and whispered; rumors spread about me being insane. The next year they were about me being in the hospital with tubes going into various points of my body… like a horror villain. A science experiment. An unknown creature to healthy kids.

The scratching continued for three more years. It followed me from one school to the other and became a solid part of my identity. I understood it was a horrible habit; my parents were growing increasingly worried and various therapists threatened to hospitalize me if my tendency persisted. Occasionally, I would vow to stop clawing at myself and spend months without needing to cover up any scars. Redemption would feel so incredibly close. Then came the eighth grade, the year I decided to stop eating and start justifying my self-harm with delusional mantras: cutting myself makes me stronger, I’m beautiful when I bleed, hunger is equivalent to success, being healthy is boring.  

Wearing tight, black leggings and a huge thrifted sweater, I’d lie down in an empty bathtub and expose my ribcage. Under the pull of a sharp object (a small knife, scissors, etc.) my skin cried as new scratches appeared all over. The pain was practically unbearable. I didn’t mind, though, I´d expertly tricked myself into appreciating it. Every streak of the knife was falsely loved and thought of as the graceful movement of a paint brush, creating fascinatingly disturbed images on a blank canvas. How elegant to be sick, how wonderful to waste life, how amazing to punish instead of investing time in self-love and forgiveness. This is how I functioned for a very long time, this is how I dealt with things that were in and out of my control; this is how I finally died before having to snap out of it and rescue what was left of me.

Zoom in to the future, I’m twenty-one and getting back on my feet. Film school tore me down, blowing fire into my face with its hostile and heart-breaking environment. I needed to take shelter for a while so, in the end, I dropped out. My mother later confessed that she believed I’d eventually die if I kept going to college. After a few months of desolation and thinking I had ruined my future, it became obvious that leaving school was the remedy to my hysteria. I needed to clean my surroundings in order to restore my sanity. The beast still haunted me for a while, creating the largest and most profound wounds on my body. I guess it felt exasperated, frustrated by the lack of chaos, and had decided to beat me for it. It has now been five and a half months since I last self-harmed; I’m looking into studying journalism and focusing on my passion for writing rather than suffocating in toxicity. This is my accomplishment, my pride, my triumph: not indulging in tendencies that bring me nothing but suffering and shame.

[cannibalisticshadows]

Crocodile Tears (Chapter 9: Bath Time)

Ao3 Link | FF Link

She was exhausted.

Between constantly checking on Rumple, and pinning over the “what-if”s once he came to, she was in a heart-quivering state between paranoia and anxiety. To say the least, she did not like it; she didn’t like it that the anthropomorphic crocodile decided to crash in her bathroom—well, she had lead him up here, but due to that fact he had been shot at, with both a bullet and a tranquilizer dart, she was near livid. Oh, once he woke up, she would be having words with him!

She sat on her bed and tired to work on her novel, glancing up at him every other moment. Rose, to Belle’s slight horror, had gathered the courage to emerge from the couch to check out this new thing in her domain. Sure enough, the small tortoiseshell crept over to the bathroom on cotton ball sized paws. Head down, ears back, she stalked over to the unconscious being splayed out on the tile floor. The small cat hissed upon sniffing him.

Having nothing else to do besides work (Belle’s anxiety was too high to really work), the library’s caretaker took up a book instead.

~.~.~.~

Face scrunching up, Rumple let out a low, rumbling groan. She still sat on her bed, cross-legged yet poised to move quickly if necessary, but when he moved she was well aware. Staying silent, the petite woman watched the great man-croc squirm into consciousness.

“Oh, fuck,” Rumple groaned as he began to lift his limbs up. From her angle she couldn’t tell if his eyes were open, but she observed him start to—it wasn’t quite flailing—wriggle around on his back like a turtle would. “Fuck, I can’t—the hell?”

With a loud groan, the croc slashed his great clawed hands out to grapple the floor. For such a beast, it took a lot of fuss for him to roll onto his belly. His paler, tender underside out of view, and his glossy, murky green and black scales on display, Rumple looked much more frightening on his belly than his back.

Reptilian eyes glared upwards, pinning her with an accusatory gaze within a slit second. “Were you trying to kill me?” He hissed in that curious accent of his: a uvular trill.

“I—Sorry, can you not lay on your back?”

“Messes—my sensory—fuck, give me a moment so the room can stop spinning. What happen?”

“You tell me,” she crossed her arms, sliding off her bed to stand before him. “You were shot, and—“

“Ah,” Rumple suddenly purred. Darkly. “I remember now.”

Mightily sighing, the croc pushed himself up on his arms to sit up—an odd sight—on his knees. His thick, long tail tailed around him, foots long. The bandage she’d hastily dressed him with had some blood on it, but not enough for her to worry about. His eyes were focused more, too.

And of course he still smelled. Horribly.

When she didn’t answer him, too busy studying the scutes on his tail, he said, “Did you doctor me up, scrumptious? How sweet.”

“It would be more trouble for me to rid your body if you died,” she snarked.

Rumple put a hand over his chest, mocking shock. “Is that sarcasm I detect?”

Rolling her eyes, and remembering he wasn’t as bad as she first thought, Belle tiptoed over the dirty floor of her bathroom to get a washcloth. He hadn’t gotten up from the floor yet. Though his expression was close to what it usually was, she could tell he was not well, yet. And knowing him, at all, she had a feeling he would loaf around her new place before he made himself scarce again. Plus he’d been shot at. Surely he wouldn’t get up and leave right away.

If he was staying any longer, he had to be clean. “You smell, Rumple.”

His nostrils flared. “What a rude remark.”

“I’m serious. If you’re staying another moment you need to haul your stinky arse in the tub. Don’t use the shower, it’s jammed.”

Rumple turned his head to look at her bathroom situation. “A tub and a shower? Ah—yes, this place was a house before it became a library, wasn’t it?”

She scrunched her brows. “It was a factory?”

“Family owned business. Mills and Co.”

“Mills? Like the mayor?”

The croc laughed impishly. “Same blood.”

“W—okay, enough. Get your butt in the bath, I can’t smell this—“ she motioned to him in general—“another moment.”

“But maaaaa,” the croc groaned, flopping back onto the floor in a loud thump. “I don’t wana. It’s my natural musk.”

“I doubt that. Get in before I kick you out.”

“How will you do that?” He mocked, but his eyes shifted, just for a moment, to the doorway of her bedroom with a look of trepidation.

Belle, irked from his incorporation, dropped to the floor infront of him and sat on his muzzle.

Instantly, his eyes shot upward and glared at her. Mumbling, unable to open his jaw, he lay rather weak and helpless under her.

“You may be tougher than any human, Rumple,” she said, without any room for jokes, “but right now I have more strength than you.”

“Furk uff,” he mumbled, growling.

After a moment to proof her point, and until he stopped fidgeting beneath her, she stood up and back away.

Perhaps it was a bad move on her part. While Rumple, like any crocodilian, was more or less vulnerable to his jaws being held clasped closed, he still had his teeth and claws—and without his mouth tied, he could truly hurt her.

Yet she knew he was in trouble. Of some kind or another. If he tried to hurt her with his body, the person or people who shot him could be tipped to his whereabouts. If he tried to attack her with—something, well, he was weak from his earlier ordeal.

Glaring, the croc pulled himself up off the ground. He wouldn’t meet her gaze, and turned angrily to her bathtub.

He tsked, but with a low sigh he turned around and waddled on all fours to the tub; he climbed into the great ovular tub, smearing the edges with his filth. God, he really was gross right now. “Do I get the spa treatment?” He asked woefully.

Belle pursed her lips. “If you’re nice.”

“Nice is my middle name, dearie.”

Dearie. That odd little… condescending address. She wasn’t sure if it was better than “scrumptious”—that seemed to be his personal nickname for her—but the way he said it sounded like he was cussing her.

Once he was in, she followed him and turned the nobs. Rumple let out a loud grunt of surprise when a harsh wave of cold water hit him like small ice bullets. “Fuck!”

Ignoring that, she pulled off the hose and aimed it on him.

The water would warm up, but—Belle reached out to turn the warm water on more.

Cruelty wasn’t in her nature. Yet, Rumple made her so angry sometimes; and anger and Rumple didn’t mix well. She glanced at his face, as he struggled against her merciless near-torture.

Now she felt bad.

Sighing, she aimed the water away from him to wash away the dirty water flowing down the drain. With the water warmer now, and the most of the croc’s filth gone, she plugged the tub and poured in the bubble bath soap she owned, and changed the water to the tap and not the hose.

Rumple was no longer swearing like sailor. With his claws clamping around his body, he opened his eyes to stare with all the wretchedness he seemed to muster. Her heart clenched. She had been kind of a bitch.

“Sorry,” she said, and rolled up her sleeves as she kneeled down beside the tub. “That was kind of mean.”

“Kind of?” He spat, low and suspicious. “Dearie, you near threw me into torpor.”

Ah, yes. Another douse to salt to the wound. He was cold-blooded—he needed heat. Belle blushed with shame. To make up for her bad behavior to her hurt guest, she tore off his bandage and put some more bubble bath in. Soon the tub was filling with foamy rose-scented bubbles, masking his sewer-y stench by a degree. Mutely, she took her washcloth out and squeezed some body wash on it. Lathering it up, she leaned over and began to scrub his head.

“What are you doing?” His voice hitched with curiosity.

“Washing you,” she said, scrubbing away his grime. Like magic, his once mucky scales became shiner and—almost sparkly in her bathroom’s light. It was as if tiny flecks of gold shined from his reptilian skin.

Rumple didn’t have much qualm to this. In fact, his once storming anger died down to—pleasure. He hummed and moved like butter under her menstruations. “Holly hell that feels good.”

“Mhmm,” she nodded and moved across his head, washing his face and muzzle. His teeth dripped with diamonds, it seemed, as water droplets slid down his scales and gums. That slick tongue of his curled when she got under his chin and neck.

Belle cleaned his top and cleaned his middle, marveling at the pretty shade of his scales came to light. He shined like a newborn snake. He leaned back against the tub as she got to his belly.

It was hard to tell if he was on the verge of starving to death or not. He had thick skin, which felt heavy when she cupped his slight jowl under his head, yet there was something—eerily human as well, under all his armor. When he caught her staring, the corners of his maw curled upward. “See something you like, scrumptious?”

She flushed. Why did he make her so—rallied up? “No,” she insisted, but it felt like a lie. Confused, and unsure of what she wanted from him, she went on to bathing her beast. The water would have to drain, soon. She turned the spouts off, and the room fell into a focused silence with only their breathing, the slashes of water, her scrubbing of him, and the soft whirl of her fan in her bedroom.

He turned to her, eyes heavy. “If I had known you’d be this lovely I’d’ve jumped in here long ago.”

Rolling her eyes, she replied, “Can you get to your back or head without my help?”

Rumple actually snorted. “I couldn’t get my arse clean without you, either.”

At least he was aware of his long frame and slightly-shorter-than-average limbs.

She went on to bathing him, finding a calm in the peace and quiet between them. It strained her muscles to do all this vigorous scrubbing, but the frequent cleaning of the library had hardened her muscles. This was a good work out, in a way.

Right as she was getting to the parts of him underwater, Rumple suddenly lashed out and grabbed her wrist. Startled from her trance, she looked up to him with her eyes wide.

“Careful, Miss French,” he said, voice lower.

Belle opened her mouth to question him, yet when she took note of where her hands were she realized it herself.

Unconsciously, she had moved to his… nether regions. Oh. Concerned, she glanced back at him in askance.

“I don’t mind,” he reassured her with lulled eyelids. She could see the peaking of his second pair of clear eyelids, reminding her of glass marbles.

“I—“ She didn’t want to look like a sissy, but—well, she guessed he could get to this part himself, since the croc could bend forward well enough like a dolphin—he wasn’t moving at all to take over. He smirked with that odd, toothy mouth of his.

With more tenderness than she knew he was capable of, Rumple reached out to touch her shoulder. Mute, she watched him tug the collar of her t-shirt.

There were no words but her mind raced with thoughts that she couldn’t keep up with. Practically blank, Belle let the beast haul her into the tub so she could be in front of him.

She lowered herself into the water, listening to the fuzzing of the popping bubbles. Rumple chuckled, and took her washcloth. “I won’t do a thing you don’t want,” he said. “But if you’re too squeamish to touch the beast…”

That earned him a halfhearted glare. “I’m not afraid.”

“Then prove it, scrumptious.”

And so she did.

Why this felt like something scandalous—well, she had no clue, and never before had she been this close to another male. This atmosphere was alien to her, and Belle felt her heart swell into her throat and an odd pulsing sensation warmed her feminine places. It was as if she was sick, but from what, she didn’t know. At the same time she felt excited at this… new experience.

Rumple leaned back again as she continued her blind scrubbing. Bubbles hid him from her view, but she felt the way his belly was much more supple (like his neck) than the rest of him. However, he was tense behind the skin, and muscles twitched as she neared his cloaca. She shivers from the cool of her apartment’s air and the warm of the water.

When she touched him where all this seemed to be indirectly referring to, she felt—nothing. A smooth curve from his stomach to between the gape between his legs. It felt no warmer than his core temperature, but—it felt soft, and fit into her palm easily. She felt the curve of his puckered vertical seam, and—

Belle shook her head. What the hell was she doing? Blushing madly, she moving away from his—parts—to clean the rest of him. Scrubbing like a maid with a mission, she got to his legs and tail.

“There,” she said, feeling dizzy and awkward. Did he have no modesty? She’d practically copped a feel! “Done—“

She froze.

To her—not horror, nor furry—shock, she made contact with something that hadn’t been there before, beneath the water.

Rumple, letting out a low purr of glee, watched her with his head tilted down to look at her properly. “I told you,” he cooed, “be careful.”

It was a hard shaft of sorts, and through her washcloth Belle found him as thick as an average man’s wrist, if not rounder and more slender, with a slight curve toward the croc’s body. The shaft thing twitched against her—

“Oh my god!” She exclaimed, and backed away from him with a yelp, water sloshing over the side of the tub and splashing onto the floor. “Are you—!?“

“Hard? Always. It’s just out for a wee peek because of you, Miss French.”

“I didn’t—!” Her face was on fire. Goodness, how did she get into this situation?! Turning away from him, she pulled the plug out of the tub and flung herself out.

“Oh, come now! It wasn’t like I did it on purpose!” Rumple said, but his voice was laced with laughter. “I didn’t mean anything by it!”

“You’re nasty!” She squealed, and dropped her washcloth into the sink.

He pouted. “But I’m clean now!”

“That’s not—gah!” Throwing her hands up, she left the bathroom and shut the door, hearing him warble with good merit. He was downright naughty, and she—well, she had no idea what they had, or were, doing. Belle knew it had to be wrong, since he was so not human.

Yet she couldn’t shake the fact it felt nice to touch him. Or that her heart always sped up when she saw him. That was fear, though. Today, she felt fear, more for his sake than her own. He’d been shot and hurt; Belle had to help, despite his impish nature.

But now? It was different, and she didn’t have a clue as to what this new emotion was.

She heard the water start up again, and the hose being turned on. Glad to have him busy, she dashed to her dresser to get changed. Once he was out she would be having those words with him. Even if she saw him important to her novel, lines had to be crossed with hiding fugitives from armed men out for his blood. Yet, for now all she needed was a new pair of clothes—it felt like Rumple’s hands were all over her.

And she wasn’t sure if it was entirely unpleasant.

[m0onbean]

Movie Dates with ASTRO

this is a long thread!

MJ

would probably choose a comedy movie

would buy the largest size of popcorn and accidentally spill some on the way to your seats

you actually die of embarrassment around him

he would laugh at the serious moments in the movie

i kid you not this grown man would very quietly not so quietly murmur "that's what she said" 

you wanted to die but it was amusing

would embarrass you by turning around to the kids sitting behind you

"this is my girlfriend (Y/N)"

"MJ what are you doi-"

"isn't she pretty?"

the kids would nod their heads and MJ would smile not before growing serious and suddenly snapping

"she's mine though, understood?!"

poor children would widen their eyes and you would give MJ a >:( look

MJ would give you a ;) look

whenever something remotely funny happened he would look at your face to see your reaction

turns out you kept a straight face the whole movie

bc

the movie wasn't funny

after the movie ended MJ would act clingy and cute

"did you like the movie?"

"hmm it was okay"

he would whine

"you're not satisfied?"

"no if you had fun then i'm satisfied"

"let's movie hop to whatever movie you would like"

"isn't that illegal"

"it's not illegal as long as you don't get caught"

MJ would make sure you had fun by randomly snickering comments in your ear which made you two burst in laughter

throw popcorn at eachother and look away pretending as if nothing happened

annoy the employees by constantly refilling popcorn

end up watching every movie in the theater

you two are probably banned tbh

in the end it doesn’t matter

the funnest time you’ve ever had at the movies

Jinjin

lets you make all the decisions

doesn't care what movie it is

just wants to spend time with you

ends up watching a movie about dogs

jinjin would subconsciously coo "aww" under his breath whenever a dog showed up

so like

during the whole movie

you learned that jinjin loves dogs

he would mutter in your ear

"let's get a dog"

seveRAL times

"how about that breed?"

"what do you think? small or big dog?"

you would just scoff but squeeze his cheeks

"you're so cute"

would hold your hand during the entire film

would randomly tap on your shoulder

"what do you want?"

"can you hold this?"

he would stick his hand in his jacket

his hands pops back up with a finger heart

would look at you proudly

"i'm such a cute boyfriend"

you would roll your eyes but return the heart

"jinjin look here"

you would pretend to look for something in your pockets

"did you forget your wallet? it's ok i paid" he would worriedly ask

"found it!" you would exclaim

sticks your hand back up

BAM! finger heart

he would uncontrollably smile

by the time you two are out of the theaters

guess what

a dog died at the end

jinjin is literally sobbing

you hug him and soothe him

"it's ok jinjin... he's in a better place now"

he cries harder and grips onto you tightly

"snowball didn't deserve that..."

"i understand"

he would be sniffing continuously on the drive home

"babe..." 

he takes out his phone and starts typing passionately

"what are you doing?"

"i'm writing a five star review on the movie"

Eunwoo

chose whatever movie you wanted

paid for your ticket although you insisted it was fine

"(Y/N) i'm supposed to be paying you'll make me look bad"

"fine but i'm paying next time"

loves how stubborn you are about it

constantly asking if you want anything

"want some popcorn? or anything else? ice cream? mozzerella sticks? nachos?"

in the theater he would laugh inside at you

because you were like

about to fall asleep

your eyelids were giving up on you

your head kept falling

you tried your best to stay awake but

the 

movie

was 

boring 

he would notice how tired you were

wouldn't say anything but would lift the seat divider up

tucks you inside his humongous winter coat

you would snuggle inside since it was warm

wraps his arms around you 

kisses your forehead when he notices you fall asleep

lowkey grateful the date turned out like this

he was never interested in the movie in the first place

your eyebrows would scrunch up suddenly

he would be alarmed

it would look like you're in pain

he would rub your back soothingly

gives you multiple kisses

your expression would wash off your face upon feeling his touch

now you're smiling in your sleep

his heart is aching

he's trying not to fanboy right then and there

he loves you so much

when the movie ends he would nudge your shoulder

"(Y/N) wake up sleeping beast"

when you fully regain conscious you would be embarrased

"u-uh sorry if I ruined the date"

he would laugh

because

you made the date better than he would even imagine

"let's do this more" 

he would say and wink

you die out of humiliation

Moonbin

moonbin would buy the whole food shop

like

actually

"hi can i get two large sodas, large buttered popcorn, an ice cream bar, oh do you guys have chicken nuggets? yeah? i'll take that 2 lmfaO. no wtf im not done. some mozzarella sticks, chicken tenders- what do you mean the bill is over $50? scuse me im an idol"

s m h

during the movies you two would just be talking the whole time

honestly what was the point of going if you two were just gonna have  nice conversation

everybody looking at u 2 because

on moonbin's lap are the chicken tenders, mozzarella sticks, and drinks

on your lap would be the chicken nuggets, and whatever tf he ordered

a F E A S T

everyone lowkey hates u guys

bc 

the chicken nuggets smelled good

and u two were conversing so casually

a kid actually kicked your guys' seat

"can u shut up i can't hear"

"scuse me i'm an idol"

"u dont look like one"

you had to restrain this GROWN man from fighting some 10 year old

don't worry about leftovers

legend says that moonbin inhales the food

you two would be having a pick up line war

"hey baby. tie your shoelaces i dont want u falling for anybody else"

"are you a laptop? bc you can make my lap warm."

"wtf was that dirty"

"no omg i swear i didnt mean it like that"

"lets break up"

a forceful kick to moonbin's chair

"SHUT THE F-"

you 2 were kicked out

what gives

the food wasnt that gr8 anyways

"its the theater's fault. shouldve put more interesting movies so we wouldnt chatter so much"

"yeah" you groaned "long movies are boring anyways"

"you know what else is lon-"

legend says that moonbin still flinches whenever you slightly raise your foot

Rocky

tHIS BOI

very quiet around people

but around you??

hohohohoho

WHO BROUGHT A MONKEY IN THIS THEATER

he's actually jumping around on his toes

"omg i'm so excite!!"

"minhyuk can u calm down"

"but the new lego movie came out and i'm really excited bc my fav character was the unicorn cat girl bc she's really nice and stuff but when shes angry shes ready to fite and i think that represents me bc u kno how im all fluffy and stuff when we first meet but like if somebody messes with me or you or anybody i am friends with they get beat up even tho im smol"

"...we're not even watching the new lego movie."

THIS KID WOULD JUST WALK UP TO THE MANAGER AND ASK FOR AN EXCHANGE OF TICKETS

"I THOUGHT WE WERE WATCHING THE NEW LEGO MOVIE WTF (Y/N)"

"YOU SAID I COULD CHOOSE"

"BUT WE'RE A TELEPATHIC COUPLE. I SENT U A MESSAGE TO CHOOSE THE NEW LEGO MOVIE."

you would massage your temples in frustration

angry -> happy when the manager lets him exchange it

in the theaters he'd be so happy

"u can be the wyldstyle to my emmet"

"mkay."

he would pout

"babe i put a lot of thinking into that pickup line so i really dont appreciate it when you start doing this to me because like i put so much in this relationshi-"

u would stuff popcorn in his mouth so he can shut up

his eyes would intently follow the movie

hes so into it!!

would laugh a little too loudly at the jokes

scrunches up face when the bad guy does something bad

widen eyes at intense scenes

when unikitty popped up on the screen

tHIS BOI

"OMG UNIKITTY!" he would scream

rips open his jacket and reveals a unikitty shirt

whole theater glaring at him

you are actually hiding in your sweater

"pls kill me"

after the movie

"minhyuk this relationship isnt working"

"wdym lol"

"you're a disgrace to me"

"huh"

"uR LIKE IN COLLEGE AND YOU'RE WEARING A UNIKITTY SHIRT TO THE MOVIES."

"i only wear my idol's merch <3"

u would sigh

he would put his jacket back on and hug u

"sry babe next time ill get a shirt with YOUR face on it"

"wow thanks"

"mhm np"

Sanha

"w-why'd u choose a horror movie"

you had to drag this tall baby in the theaters

"i don't want to..." he would whine

"please sanha"

you would perform your aegyo on him

shooting him finger hearts and comfort

"sanha u r a man u can do this"

upon hearing he's a man he'd be like

"oK i can do this i'm a man"

clinging onto your arm during the whole movie

would close his eyes and bury his face in your arm

"tell me when its over"

you would pet his floof hair

"its ok sanha, you're my brave knight arent you?"

he immediately recomposes himself and sits up straight

"yes. your majesty i will save u"

few minutes in and he gave up

is actually hugging you full on

not even watching the movie

"sanha... the movie's done now"

after u two are out the theaters

"THAT WAS AN EASY MOVIE I CAN WATCH ANYTHING NOW"

proud of himself

it was cute but

"really? wanna watch the sequel?"

sanha would loudly gulp

"um."

when he would drop you off at your house

he would be stalling time

"sanha you can go now"

"u-uh..."

"r u scared lol"

"lolololol hahahah wdym"

ends up staying the night at your place

cuddling with you the entire night

he would sort of flinch in his sleep

or his body would jump suddenly

nightmare??

u would kiss his forehead and wake him up

"are you ok?"

he would stare at you

and

HE WOULD PERFORM THE "I DREAMED OF A GHOST" AEGYO

"pls go back to sleep and never wake up"

[iphoenixrising]

Anything Angsty with Tim please. Recommendations, a fic anything, just feeling angsty .... (P.S doctor!tim is everything I've ever needed and looking forward to AOB part 5! You're amazing! Good luck with your day)

Hi babe. I’m sorry I kept this for so long, but I am def aware how much you love your pain (lol) and I had this idea spinning for a while, so… Yeah. But ah, I started thinking about this what-if from the Fracture Verse and it got really long and intense really fast>.Destroyed. Basically, the Titans take on theinvaders and most the JL mentors take their sidekicks for some R&R exceptfor Red Robin, who goes back to the Tower to take care of himself and Batmanjust kind of lets him go.Well, What-If B just wasn’t having any of that? What if shit started getting so real there and just ALL THE KNOWLEDGE DROP HAPPENS THERE INSTEAD OF A YEAR LATER O_O  Like, Tim has only been back from his little torture vacay and then the mind fuckery of the Insurgents and just!

So…here it is.

**

All-in-all, invading aliens are douche canoes.

Seriously.

Kon, Cassie, Bart, Rave, Gar, and Miguel are allin agreement with him on this one; especially after they were all trapped in anendless of loop of their worst moment, worst losses, worst failures while stuckin the alien’s most powerful weapon: the Mind Trap.

Sure, it had been his brilliant, last-ditch ideato jump ball to the wall into the trap, giving him the access to their neuralnet he needed to break the hive mentality and shut them down from the inside.

It doesn’t make anything, any of it, anybetter.

While he’s reliving Kon’s final moments, Raven’snear insanity at the hand of Trigon, Gar’s out-of-control power ripping hisbody apart, Cassie’s nearly fatal injuries, Bart’s last wishes while hecoughs up blood and bile, Miguel watching his beloved slip in a coma to hoveron the edge of death—

While he’s doing all of that, Cassie is gettinghit with a two week span of time he was tortured as Tim Drake, Kon is getting aload of life with a ruptured spleen bleeding out, Bart is feeling the contagiontaking hold to kill Batman’s sidekick, Gar is feeling the pain when he, Damian,and Dick are fighting it out after the Robin tunic was given away without hisconsent, and Miguel is feeling a whole lot of owfuck from that time theRed Hood tried giving him a second smile to worry about.

But what matters in the end? With Raven’s help,he’s able to keep part of his mind partitioned off from the alien device so hecan live through the atrocities of his team and hack the invader’s tech at thesame time—enough to put in his carefully recalibrated virus to take them thefuck down.

The trap faded around them once the virus his jackpotand breaks the neural-net connection, essentially making the invaders as potentas five-year olds throwing temper tantrums.

The following beat-down is enjoyableenough to make up for the hour spent reliving their worst moments and fears, inhaving those moments share with the rest of the team.

Well, not really.

But still, it’s a pretty sweet revenge fight.

As per usual, the JL appears out of the sky overSan Fran once the main body of fighting is pretty much over and done with.They’ve already started on clean-up with the local authorities when Superman,Wonder Woman, Green Lantern, Zatanna, the Flash, Martian Manhunter, GreenArrow, and the Batman show up to take a look around at the nice pile of former mayhem.

It’s a surprise when Superman goes straight forSuperboy, eyes wide with concern, gripping the teen’s arms and asking quietlyif he’s been hurt, is he okay? Does he need to go to the fortress for somehealing time?

Wonder Woman is similarly concerned upon seeingWonder Girl wavering with some bloody patches on her elbows and ribs, but it’sthe younger hero’s eyes that really bother her. Without a word to therest of the Justice League, she takes one of her protégé’s arms around hershoulders and takes to the sky, intent on going to Paradise Island for theyounger to recuperate.

The Flash pretty much catches KF in anall-encompassing hug, blurting out how bad ass the younger speedster didon such terrible bad guys, how proud he is of what KF did here today,how they need to check him over before he collapses, and just let me feedand care for you, little bro.

Zatanna feels the sharp, aching throb of paincoming directly from Raven, the power radiating in shards of agony. As a fellow magic user, she has no qualms going directly to the youngerwoman and talking gently, almost begging her to come to New York and the quietroom set-up to negate magic and allow for healing.

Martian Manhunter, who’s known Gar for years,sees the strain, the trembling, flinching muscle, and just pulls theunresisting Beast Boy up in his arms with something spoken softly against themop of green hair, and flies off with a nod to the Bat.

Red Robin, beaten and abused, bloody andlimping, is glad the JL came for his team; the aftermath of this, the rawnessof it, the pain, would be a real bitch for them to deal with. They would needthe support and the time to come back from the slideshow of horrors they allexperienced.

He turns away from the members of his team beingtaken away by their mentors and friends, going up to Cyborg with a copy of thevirus he created to take the Insurgents down, and gave the JL membersome of the deets about the who, what, when, where, and why since, you know,invading aliens are usually part of the JL’s extensive repertoire ofass-kicking.

He finally puts the bo away now that clean-upcrews are underway and the invaders are being detained by A.R.G.U.S.  Withthe job over and done with, he pulls a grapple in one bloody hand, fires it atthe convenient rooftop to take to flight. Their part is done and AmandaWaller’s people can figure out what the fuck to do with the aliens.

At least from here, he’s close enough to theTower to get half-way there without doing more damage to his ribs and theterrible concussion—

(V)

—Vash the Stampede, hitting the back of hisbrain pan. He needs antibiotics and first-aid to stop the bleeding as well aspossible other bad shit, like septic shock, from setting in (since,really, it’s ass) before he starts up adding this little sitch to theTitan’s records. Then he needs to get back on the hunt for those curiouslywell-funded labs getting Black Market equipment, and—

The slight paf of another zip line shakeshim a little in mid-air.

The shadow of the Bat is coming right up behindhim, dark cape flaring out behind the older vigilante so Red can plainly seeB’s arm already out to grab him around the middle and pretty much pull himright the hell off his own zip line.

“What the f—!?”

But they’re moving through the air, his wordslost to the rushing wind while B’s line attaches to the Batplane flyingoverhead, retracting to bring them closer to the dark silhouette in the sky.

With his back pressed up against the yellow ovaland symbol on B’s chest (and once upon a fucking time this meantsomething, didn’t it?), and that arm like iron around him, Red’s lip curls upin a sneer, shouting over the Batplane’s engine making his hurting jaw achejust that much more.

“What the hell do you need?” The unsaid can’tthis wait? Is right there.

B leans in to talk against his ear while they’restill in mid-air, probably not at all aware of the ringing so loudanyway, “I don’t need anything. Hold on.”

But through the lightheadedness, the strikes ofvertigo, the nausea rising up, Red still clenches his aching jaw and focuses onhow the hold around his gut hurting this much proves he’s pulledsomething probably important.

“Then I don’t want a ride to the Tower. I’ve gotit” Because he does. He’s had to have his own back for the better partof two years, before and after he brought B back from being lost in time andleft the Bats to figure their own shit out. He’s stayed away from their familywhen he’s in Gotham, stayed back because, well, Replacement, right?

Even if he and Jason are on better terms than ‘letme show you the pointy end of this knife,’ he’s still not even fucking goingthere.

The exit door to the Batplane slides open rightunder the cockpit. “I’m not giving you a ride to Titan’s Tower.” Is B’srumbling reply as they close in.

“Not all of us can jump from one crisis to thenext. Give me 48 hours and then you can email me with whatever intel you’reafter.” But he’s blinking behind the whiteouts, feeling sick and fuzzy, theinjuries that apparently aren’t going to just wait a minute.

“I don’t need any intel, Tim,” B snapsout, seemingly angry at something.

Red is too far into the pain game to really givea fuck about more of this little back-and-forth with his former partner.“Then what the hell do you want?” He snaps back, gripping the armaround him at the wrist, pulling his secondary grapple for, you know, justin case.

(Well, it’s not like they’re on good termsor anything—B has a Robin, so what’s this all about?)

“Stop it. You’re going to fall,” the arms getstighter with his meddling, and Red gasps out a pained noise when somethingtender is squeezed right along with it. His upper body flops over B’s arm in anattempt to curl up against the pain.

He barely realizes they’re up through the doorand into the cockpit while the plane glides smoothly on auto-pilot. The minuteB’s arm falls away, he can brace himself on the control panel and try tobreathe without puking.

Gloved hands turning him makes him jerk back astep as far as he can in the small space, pulling away.

“Just…just get me to the damn Tower,” ishoarse, blood on the Batplane’s floor now. Great, he’s going to probably get a rightbitching in his voicemail from Alfred explaining what a pain in the assbloodstains are to get out, Sir.

“I’m not taking you to the Tower,” Bgrowls back.

And there it is again, Batman is gripping hisbicep, pulling him closer, the whiteouts dipped down and the free hand rovingover the torn places in his suit.

“Then why the fuck am I in here, and—and stopthat. Shit!” His knees wobble, his move to pull back aborted when agloved hand presses along his left side. Bile rushes up into his throat,swallowed back down by sheer fucking willpower.

“The Titans just took on invading aliens,Tim. You need medical attention and time to recuperate. Your suit stood up tomost of it, but you’re bleeding.”

Again. There it is. B saidhis name more times in the last ten minutes than he has in the last year. What.The. Ever. Loving. Fuck. Is. Happening?

“Then—” he stutters out between panting breaths,fighting the dizziness and pending gray edges to his vision, “let me go to the fuckingTower so I can patch myself up.”

B seems to finally get that something isrotten in Denmark, and lets Red pull out of the hold. With his vision failingand go time eminent, Red fumbles back at the control panel in an attemptto slam the button that will open the door back for him to jump out of and firehis extra grapple. Then he’s going to be hitting the Medical floor in like, sixminutes tops because much longer and he’s going to be in oh shit landjust like when the Triad—

He misses on the first shot because B knocks hishand away and the exit stays closed.

“Wh-What the hell are you—?”

And sometimes, B is just that guy becausethe corresponding blow to his worst injury is such a fucking dickmove.

But it has the intended effect, showing how weakhe apparently is because his knees knock together and go out on him. He wouldhave ended up on the floor if B hadn’t swept him up like some fainting lily andkicked the co-pilot’s chair around with one foot to set him down in it.

“You’re in no shape to go back to the Tower,” Bmakes it statement punctuated with the last hit.

“…asshole…” he faintly gasps while the painmakes him clench his jaw against a noise.

“We’re going to talk when I’m not worried aboutinternal bleeding and broken bones. Since when have you been taking care ofinjuries this extensive on your own? I’m fairly sure a stipulation to joiningthe Titans was that you keep me updated when you get hurt.” B fills in, handspausing when he realizes the Red Robin’s suit design is…different. Verydifferent. The design has changed, along with the security traps (and hewonders when it happened. He should have the current designs of allhis sons’ suits, including armor schematics and the necessary details).

His Bat sense is going off about everything,more so than when Clark first picked him up from Gotham to inform him theTitans are in the fight of their lives because invading aliens managedto bypass the Watchtower’s systems.

He’d set the Batplane for follow them, alreadyworried about how Red Robin would be holding up while Clark sped them as fastas possible to San Francisco, meeting up with the other JL members on the way.

None of them had to say how worried they were,it was evident, even if you weren’t the so-called World’s GreatestDetective.

But the nagging something tugging at hisinner sense when Red shot his grapple without even a word to him isgetting stronger, is making him worry a hell of a lot more than he was even anhour ago.

He feels out the obvious injuries, even withRed’s hand weakly shoving his away.

“No internal bleeding, nothing broken. Thisconcussion is the bee’s knees thanks. A stop at the Tower to drop me offwould be just—” and yes, B, that was one of their agreements.Back when he was still Robin, when someone actually gave a fuck. Healmost comes out with that, but stutters to a halt because Batman gives nofucks about anything but flicking out a razor-sharp batarang and cuttingthe tunic right up the center, pulling away the dented, broken armor to get tothe body suit and main bleeders underneath.

“Tim, I said I’m not taking you there. No one isgoing back for the moment, and you need medical treatment, these look serious.”B already has the gloves and gauntlets off, “Batcomputer,” he turns slightlyand gets the acknowledging boop, “full body scan of Red Robin. Send results toAgent A.”

“N-No, no, not—” but his arms flop uselessly andthe six-minute window has already passed him up. It’s fail timeapparently.

Behind the whiteouts, B’s eyes narrow with thisconsistent fight. There’s something very wrong here, something wrong when hisformer Robin is fighting him tooth and nail when he’s half-loopy on blood lossand exertion. “Yes. There is no way in hell I’m leaving you in the Towerby yourself like this. Not going to happen, Tim. I am not goingto let you bleed out all over your computers.”

And B shoves his cowl back to show thoseelectric blue eyes, narrowed stubbornly when there’s my way or no waygoing down.

“Why,” he stutters when black replaces gray andhis brain fuzzes more, starts shutting down because of the impending owfuck,“the hell does it matter? I’m not your fucking responsibility anymore, right?”

He tries to sneer, tries to move, tries to snarland snap about why not a little bit of fuck-off for your day, butnothing is responding to command. Before he blacks out, though, he gets to see thelook of utter shock on Batman’s face, and well, the small surge of satisfactionat getting the drop on the Dark Knight leads him to the way—

Out

**

“Septic shock?” Dick gasps, utterly dumbfounded.

“Yes, Master Dick,” Alfred carefully works,aproned and gloved, cleaning the last of the ragged, raw injuries before hewould need to wrap them. The boy on the bed isn’t moving except for his chestrising and falling with slow, even breaths.

He does, however, press a button on the touchpadabove the bed in the Cave’s medical area to show the outline of a human bodywith a glaring red circle.

“It seems Master Timothy is no longer inpossession of the viscera necessary for fighting off infections.”

Bruce in only the body suit, Dick in sweats andt-shirt, and Damian without the domino all turn to Alfred.

And stare.

“You are saying he no longer has a spleen?” Damiverified, “and is thus more prone to illness?”

“That is precisely what the scans are showing,Master Damian, and I ran them several times to verify.”

The youngest Bat blinks once, blinks twice, andturns back to the unconscious form of Tim Drake lying still and silent. It wasbad enough the four of them received a nasty shock while peeling the RedRobin body suit off to reveal a mass of still-healing welts, burns, and brokenskin marring the span of Tim’s back (what the hell happened?) andthe other injuries in the process of healing, injuries that look suspiciouslylike torture on his upper body, arms, and hands; not to mention howAlfred huffs angrily at the visible curve of ribs standing out against paleskin, but finding out he also lost, you know, a semi-crucial body part sometimesince his last Bat-physical (hearing the date is the next shocker of thenight) is pretty much the last straw.

“I’m going to do some research. Let me know ifhe comes to, Alfred.” B turns away with a snarl, the muscles in his back andshoulders tight.

“I shall, Master Bruce. However, I have nointention of tying him down to the bed frame. Should I be detained with dinner,please refrain from using cuffs.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Bruce snaps back,already in his chair at the Batcomputer to start digging into the last sixmonths of Red Robin’s vigilante career and Tim Drake’s personal life.

Gingerly, Dick ruffles Damian’s hair and movesto sit on the medical bed by Tim’s hip, staring up at the closed eyes and slackfeatures. He doesn’t process Alfred taping gauze down on the current injuries,but picks up a bruised and battered hand to hold in both of his while lookingat a very obvious scar now that he knows some of what’s been going on inthe time since Tim has been back to the Manor after the Robin mantle went toDami.

(And Dick feels like a right bastardbecause he remembers coming up the stairs, thinking Tim might have been in hisold room after their thing with Ra’s people before B had been found—whenhe thought Tim might have come to his senses and come home to be RedRobin here with them…and found Tim’s room empty. His things moved out, theshelves missing his usual array of books and video games, no clothes in theclosets, no extra suits in the hidey holes, no shampoo in the shower ortoothpaste on the sink. The Flash shower curtain is gone, replaced by a genericone in most of the other guest rooms. And just turning in circles, the hardweight in his chest, the utter pain when he realized Tim never meant to comeback. He was already gone from the Cave where Alfred had patched him up,where Tim had told Dick specifically, “You’re my brother. I knew you’dcatch me.”)

He sighs, shoulders rising with the move. Hedoesn’t say anything as Alfred continues to dress the injuries and Tim sleepson.

It’s not very long before a sharp intake ofbreath from the computer draws their eyes, and B is typing furiously to getmore information. Hacking into the Tower’s mainframe is child’s play,especially when he has Vic doing the hard work.

Tim’s ghost drive, however, is yielding moreresults than he anticipated.

The video file labeled Triad makes hisstomach churn.

Dick leaves Tim to sleep off the drugs andantibiotics, for his fever to slowly come down under their ministrations. Hegrins a little at Damian asleep in the chair next to the medical bed and stepsover to the computer where Bruce is looking grim, fists clenched tight on thecontrol panel.

Dick almost asks, almost, until hecatches the video playing—

And watches Tim Drake take a whip to the backwhile their former Robin is screaming.

“Oh…Oh my God,” he blinks, chest tight,nausea rising up when the footage skips and the next scene is Tim being helddown by the arms and shoulders, the remains of his business suit ripped to givea span of bloody skin for the glowing hot iron bar to be set down.

He doesn’t know when he moved or when B got tohis feet while the two of them try very hard not to be sick as Tim screamedover and over on the security footage.

They stand together, silenced by horror as theslideshow continues, as Tim is tortured over and over, as one of their ownattempt to escape, gets to the control room and tries to get a communicationout to the outside world.

By the time they have the full picture of howthose marks got there and what Tim Drake had to go through, Bruce is deep inthe Bat, anger radiating from every pore.

Tim was abducted outside Wayne Enterprises ashis daytime persona, as Tim Drake, CEO, and none of them had known a damn thingabout it.

**

It’s almost forty-eight hours later.

The Bats are in from patrol and upstairs to dohuman things, like sleep and eat and bathe (because the sewers of Gotham are nastyno matter how many times you’ve been down there—the sitch never gets any better).B has scrubbed down and changed in the Cave, making sure he was free ofcontaminants before coming over to check on his still-sleeping Robin. Handsaccustomed to delivering pain are absurdly gentle when he lays a palm on theback of Tim’s neck, glad to see his temperature is finally getting back tonormal, and checking the IVs as well as the bandages on Tim’s healing back andnewer injuries on his side and knee. He ruffles the too-long hair gently beforegoing up to check quickly on Alfred and the boys before planning on coming backdown to stay close to Tim, hoping he might be stable enough to wake up and talkto them.

So the Cave is empty for the moment when themachines attached to the sensor clamped on Tim’s finger and the little stickypads on his chest start to pick up slightly. Not enough to trigger analert, just enough for him to blink open his bleary eyes riding the dredges ofpainkillers and sedatives.

It’s the Bat-cocktail of owfuck.

Really, he should have known better.

The fog is clearing out while his head flops onone side to look around and see where he’s—and what’s happ—how did—?

His head flops to the other side, eyes wideningwhen he realizes the big car is parked a little past the curtain, and on theother side of him, the Batcomputer looks the same, but there’s a few morethings on the control panel.

He gets the urge to violently hurl oncethe screeching overhead signals where he’s at just in case, you know, theremight be any doubt.

The air in his chest chokes off, leaving himcoughing hard for a few seconds, enough that the pulsox beeps once in warningand he struggles to get himself under control.

The haze of painkillers is still there, but nothingshort of death is going to stop him. Instead, he uses the lead to pull thelittle machine close to him and manages to pop the casing off. A few wires and boom,he takes the sensor off his finger and the monitor keeps going. It takesmaneuvering for him to sit up enough to reach the heart monitor and do prettymuch the same.

There’s cameras everywhere, but he’s sure no onewould be watching (because why would they?) as he stands on stiff,aching legs, manages to stumble a little before righting himself.

The knee isn’t going to get better anytime soon,so he’s good to be limping around because at least that means he’s onhis feet.

The Red Robin suit they must have taken off ofhim is folded neatly on a workstation table, easy to pick up.

He feels immensely better with the body suit on(even if the pressure on still-healing injuries is about a bitch, damn);boots, gloves and gauntlets, harness and utility belt. It’s enough to rock.

A domino goes on while he nabs his somewhatstitched back together cape, but the armored tunic is totes a lost cause.

Bummer.

With the machines beeping steadily behind him,Tim leaves the tunic, makes his way further down into the Cave, favoring theleg, moves as straight-backed as possible to keep the marks on his back frompulling and getting sore all over again, as been the pattern in the last monthsince he’s been back from a certain little vacay.

(And it’s fucked how B probably saw thosemarks isn’t it? Just another check in the who gives a shit category…but,the old memorial case with Jason’s Robin suit is still there where it’s alwaysbeen—and a double-take confirms it. His first Robin suit is in a new case nextto it. Mother. Fucker does it makes his chest hurt.)

The line of just in case vehicles is inthe same place it always was. A crappy beater for Matches Malone, a van forpick-ups, an Ambulance in case shit gets real. A covered car in the backcorner that is terribly, achingly familiar, and his eyes skitter away from it,just like he did with the memorial cases.

Instead, he goes to one of the four Ducati’sserviced and ready to rock, lifts up the seat while balancing on his good leg.Keys fall into his palm, so score.

His hip only hitches slightly when he throws thebad leg over the bike so the good one can steady it, and the bruises tomorroware going to be fucking beautiful.

But for the moment, all good. He’ssitting down at least, and flips the bike on, raises the bad leg to start theengine—

When Dami drops down from the ceiling vent andlands a few feet in front of him at a crouch.

No suit, no domino, but the pose is all Robin.

A Robin in his pjs, but then, well, there’sschool and shit in the morning isn’t there?

“Drake,” a low, almost-question.

“Nice to see you too,” he smirks with oldbitterness, just waiting for it.

Dami’s eyes go from the whiteouts to the bikeand back up. “This…is not a favorable course of action,” is said morecarefully than he can remember the Demon ever being.

“What now?” Because seriously, what now?

“You have been recovering from septic shock,”the youngest informs him, still in that crazy careful tone. “Among otherinjuries. It would be best if you stayed where you could be monitored shouldyou relapse.”

Now he thinks he might be more loopy on the I’mfucked up cocktail than initially assessed. Things just aren’t…aren’tmaking sense here.

“I’m in a multiverse aren’t I?” Is a stupid butkind of valid question.

Damian, however, is not amused.

“You are a fool. This is not surprising. However,as I have been informed, your team stopped an alien invasion. That if nothingelse would merit time, Drake.”

“Telepaths that want to take over our world are assholes.Haven’t you figured that out yet?” He comes back easily, “and I have a place torecoup. It would be nice to be on my way there right about now.”

The bad leg comes down, shooting a thrill ofpain up, but fuck it. Really. He needs to get out of here before JasonTodd comes around to give him a bro fist or something else just ascrazy.

The engine purrs to life against his thighs.

Again, it’s opposite day because thatlittle brat is leaning against the handlebars, scowling and talking over theengine instead of doing things like, you know, moving.

“I would not do this if I were you.”

He blinks behind the whiteouts. “I don’t knowwhat the fuck is going on here, but this is getting to creep-tasticsproportions.” He leans over the handlebars as much as he can without someserious owfuck hitting, “you wanted me gone, Demon. Riff raff,remember? That cut zip line? You think I need a written invitation toget the fuck out?”

Dami’s eye widen a fraction before narrowing,the little asshole leaning in as well like they’re going to fight it out forsome crazy reason because this is what they all wanted butwere too chicken-shit to tell him.

“Dick’s too nice to say it, but you think hereally has to after all this time?”

“Grayson—” Dami starts, voice raised to be heardover the purring engine.

“Never wanted me either. I guess you and JasonTodd were right all along. Want to gloat about it? How about you do it overSkype so I can get back to my life?”

Dami growls, baring his teeth in a snarl, “no,you fool. Grayson has missed you unbearably in the last twoyears. He has attempted to keep track of you while you searched for Father andthen later when you re-joined the Titans. He is the one that built the case foryour Robin suit.”

And just…what the ever-loving fuck?

“I am aware of how things were left whenI began my own time as Robin, Drake. I am aware of—”

“Get off.” Because now he’s blinking behind thewhiteout, his eyes getting hot and wet fast. “Get the fuck off.”

“No!” Damian snarls back, gripping thehandlebars tighter, like he has every intention of holding on. “I refuseto let you leave like this!”

And so, apparently it’s time to spell it out.“No one gives a shit if I’m here or not.” He shoves himselfstanding, old, buried pain rearing up from the terrible place in his brain panwhere he’d buried it all just so he could keep moving. “They let meinherit the cape because I was an asshole kid and found out theirsecret. They let me keep it because I did an alright job at keeping Bfrom fucking himself up like Robin is supposed to do. And he took me inbecause my fucking father was murdered when my identity was compromised.It’s ‘adopt an orphan syndrome,’ Damian. That’s it. I fucking Get.It. Now.”

Those eyes narrow, color rising to the youngervigilante’s face. But Tim leans down, blinking rapidly behind the whiteoutbecause he’s not going to give him or any of them that fuckingsatisfaction.

His voice is low, almost angry if it didn’tcrack, giving away more than he wants, especially to Damian. “Besides,why would they want the replacement when they’ve got the real son in thecape anyway, right? You said that, and you were right, weren’t you?”

“N-none of that—Drake…Timothy, youdon’t honestly,” and the twelve year old almost looks his age for once, “youdon’t honestly believe that.”

The corner of his mouth twitches up in a veryunfunny smirk, “I’m a detective, Damian. I don’t believe anything until I haveevidence.”

The younger Bat sputters a moment, looking oddlyshell-shocked, but he doesn’t let go, refuses to give up, “evidence? Openyour eyes, Drake. Father ordered the Justice League to attend your battleas soon as he knew, made Kent come to pick him up as he knew it would be thefastest way to get to you.”

“What part of aliens wasn’t clear? Thatis usually JL territory, we just happened to call dibs.”

Dami’s fists tighten around the handlebars, “Ihave been Robin for three years. Three years, Drake. If there isanything I have learned in that time, it is how Father would not leave any ofhis Robins behind. Not even you.”

Welp, that’s going to be a very hardeventual realization for the kid. But really, it isn’t any of his businessanymore. None of this is.

He sinks back down slowly, painfully becauseit’s time to go. “Get out of the way.”

The hair on the back of his neck, however, cutshim off, makes his straighten up again on the bike and rev up the engine. Damiisn’t moving, but is just staring at him looking like he might pull out thatwicked katanna for a little sliced n’ diced vigilante rather than dealwith his shenanigans. Not like it’s nothing new.

But the ghost sensation has drawn the brat’sattention as well, those eyes drawn over Tim’s left shoulder.

Without turning to look, he gives the standard,“thanks for the pick-up. Let me know when you need the next batch of intel.We’ll have a crime-fighting party with confetti and everything.”

The hand on his bicep is something he hadn’tanticipated, startling him to look up at Bruce’s bare face and angry eyes.

Oh shit. Batman’s not a happy camper. Time tohit the dirt.

From his other side, Dick comes out of nowhereand reaches around him to turn the bike off and take the key out of the ignition.

Oh, so that’s how it is? After all theyears he put into maintaining the bikes and cars just like everyone else—

“Like I said,” he deadpans, trying very, veryhard not to get pissed off at the snub, “thanks for the pick-up. I’ll gettogether whatever data you’re looking for when—”

“Get off the bike, Tim,” Bruce emphasizes theorder with a tug to his arm.

“Seriously?” Well, there goes the best ofintentions, “I’ll bring it back if this is a problem.”

“Not the point. Get the hell off the bike.”

He shoves himself to his feet, already planningon hitting up Kon in a quick text just to get a ride out of here as fast asfucking possible, itching to jerk his arm out of B’s hold (and dammit,he hates to do that now that Clark isn’t being an asshat extraordinaire). So helets it ride for the moment since, well, he pretty much shouldn’t be hereanyway, so the lecture is probably going to be fucking spectacular.

His hip hitches again when he swings his legback over the bike, but it’s only slightly painful this time around. Nope,there’s more pain elsewhere that has nothing to do with skin and soft,fleshy bits.

He in no way is prepared for Bruce pulling hisarm up and around those massive shoulders, bending down enough to be aboutTim’s height. The limp isn’t as bad with B supporting him with an arm aroundhis waist (under the worst of the older marks) and gripping the wrist, walkinghim right the fuck back into the depths of the Cave where Alfred is waitingwith hands properly folded behind him.

“Ah, the patient is awake,” Alfred is calm,cool, and collected as per usual. “Perhaps a stronger dose of painkillersshould have been in order.”

“Not necessary,” he fills in shortly, pullingaway from Bruce as soon as possible, a passing glance off the machines he’dreconfigured. “Thanks for patching me up, Alfred.”

The butler sighs through his nose and it’s sopainfully familiar. “Of course, Master Tim. If you would be sokind as to change clothing, the bandages will need to be checked again.”

He holds up a hand, “again, not necessary. I’mon my way out—”

Dick shoves sweats and a t-shirt in his chest,jaw clenched tight enough that a muscle is jumping there, and it’s fine,he gets it. Dick doesn’t want him there. He really doesn’t need this—

“I’m trying to be out of your hair,” hegrowls back at the former Batman and current Nightwing. “I didn’t ask tocome here. Not my bad.”

If anything, Dick’s expression gets even angrier.Angry enough that the hands holding the clothes are trembling finely until Timtakes them just to get the older vigilante to step back.

“Drake,” and it’s really saying something when Damianis the one stepping between them, trying to keep, well, whatever peacedistance can realistically bring. “This is difficult to believe, but there is agrave misunderstanding happening here.”

His eyebrows draw together, head tilted down tothe youngest, but he wisely remains silent because there’s volumes hecould say about that.

“Do you need assistance, Master Tim?” Alfredcuts in, trying to divert the brewing storm raging in Dick and Bruce’sexpressions, “I should say some of your injuries must be rather painful at thisjuncture. Your back, for example—”

“I’ve got it. Thank-you.”

“Very good, Sir. Once you have changed, I have adelightful pot of coffee and breakfast—”

But those words make his head snaparound, “coffee?”

Because yes. The answer is always yes.

Alfred hums knowingly, “indeed. I believe it isthe Sumatra brand you seem to favor?”

And dammit. Just, dammit Alfred.

In reply, he limps back to pull the curtainclosed in the sectioned-off medical area, flopping the sweats and t-shirt downon the gurney. Deep, cleansing breath, and he reverses order, taking off glovesand gauntlets, boots, utility belt and harness, cape and dom, leaving the bodysuit for last (since there’s the most owfuck of the day).

“Tim? You okay?” B’s voice is softer, floatingover the partition, his silhouette against the curtain.

“I’m fine,” he taps on his wrist computer withone arm through the t-shirt. Getting the sweats on is painful but it’s whateverreally, the knee isn’t going to get any better so no use whining about it.

Instead, he puts the wrist computer back on hisforearm and comes out a la civvies, his too-long hair probably wrecked,but with a KO of approximately two days?

He shoves the curtain back, cracking his neck,and starting to move to intercept Alfred’s approach. “Bandages are clean, soI’m good. Thanks.”

The butler tisks and gently simply steers MasterTim back to the gurney, “I will need to check your levels as well as theinjuries you are unable to see, Master Tim. You certainly cannot assessyour back unless you’ve taken to perform feats of magic?”

The others approach, watching with grave facesas the butler allows a cup and saucer inside the medical area, an excuse tokeep Tim’s hands busy so work can be done.

“My levels are f—” The smell hits like anaphrodisiac and his eyes fall half-mast just because coffee.

“Do not say ‘fine.’ For a young man without thenecessary organ to build up proper immunities, then I would dare to say yes.However, for a crime-fighting vigilante, your white cell count is woefully deficient.”

Oh. So that’s whatthis is about?

Shit.

“I’ve had enough time to adjust.” Is all hebites out as the butler gloves up, winds a stethoscope around his neck.

When B’s hands plant on his hips like he iswinding up for the mother of all lectures, and Damian puts a hand toDick’s forearm to stop him from saying whatever might be ready to comeout of his mouth, Tim realizes how much of a thing this might be.

The butler, however, just frowns, “then I willpose the obvious question, Master Tim. How many episodes of septic shock haveyou experienced before now?”

His jaw clenches, eyes close briefly becausewhen he got off that fucking ship—

The pinch to his inner elbow jars him out of it(luckily) or he might still be smelling stagnant water and imagine the worldrocking under his feet.

“Twice,” and he leaves it at that, going morepale at the bits flashing through his brain pan.

Alfred removes the syringe, tapes a cotton ballto the small wound. “Twice, Sir?” is quiet, neutral.

Tim swallows, looking at the span of wallinstead of any of them, “yeah.”

“Once recently I’m afraid?” And Alfred sets theblood sample aside, easily moves a gloved hand to be under Master Tim’s stillholding the delicate saucer. The minute clattering stops when he does.

“Yeah,” hoarse, but fuck yes.

“Your back, Tim?” now Alfred’s tone is movinginto soothing, someone that can (used to be) be trusted.

Still staring at the wall, keeping himselftogether, Tim gives a short, pointed nod.

“What—” Dick steps a little closer to his side,not enough to set him off, but enough to reach out, slowly, easy, “who did thatto you, Timmy?”

His shoulders tense with the contact, and heblinks hard, shaking himself out of it, shaking himself the fuck back tothe present. He lifts the cup and takes a drink of utter heaven.

It helps to steady him, to keep his head outof the two weeks he spent being tortured as Tim Drake, CEO, and the more recentfight with dick bag aliens.

“I took care of it.”

“That doesn’t tell us anything,” Dick counters.“Timmy…you were tortured.”

And well, yes. Yes, he was.

“Yup,” is his soft admission, staring down intothe depths of his coffee while Alfred moves around behind him and the shirtinches up his spine, making his hackles rise just slightly. “I was.”

And he knows, he knows, Alfred was tryingto be careful, wasn’t trying to do anything, but the wounds, the memories, allof it was still so new and raw, that when the touch hits the wrong spot,reminds him of a burning iron bar pressed against his shoulders, he chokes andmoves without thinking.

The cup and saucer crash to the floor, and he isup, moving away, spinning in mid-air, landing at a crouch with his legand back screaming, his eyes wide, hand automatically poised in a nerve strike.And he can fight, he can fight, and he can win. He can save them thistime, save them all, and he can—

He can, he will.

Whizzing and moving, focused on not throwing up,focused on not stopping.

Bruce is gripping his face between those massivepalms from one blink to the next, and Tim realizes he must have been movingagain because they aren’t standing by the medical area anymore.

Instead, he’s pinned down on one of the big matsused for practice and training half-way across the Cave, the vinyl soft andworn-in under the arm Bruce has pinned at the wrist. His back is fucking agonybecause he’s laying down on the healing injuries. Worse, he’s shaking likefuck, the coffee in his stomach rolling with it.

“Tim! You need to stop. Just. Stop.”

But it’s just as bad because he can’t be helddown.

That…he’s not good with that, and hiships take over regardless of owfuck, bucking up enough to get Bruce offhim so he can turn over, land on all fours and gag.

“Fuck…fuck…fuck…fuck…”

He gets a million vigilante points for notthrowing up his coffee.

A. Million.

Plopping down on his ass to try getting air backinto his lungs, however, is seriously the best idea for the moment even if he’sshaky as fuck and probably embarrassed the shit out of himself.

(Regretting letting him back in now,aren’t you?)

Dick kneels in plain sight, ducking down tocatch Tim’s rapidly blinking eyes. “Hey, just me,” is meant to be soft andsoothing.

It’s not.

Instead, Tim closes his eyes again it and triesto calm himself but his brain is too fuzzy, still half-stuck on the ship, inthe mind trap, in his team’s memories—

“…something for me, Tim. Let me know you’rewith us.”

He doesn’t open his eyes so he can’t see whateverexpression is on those faces.

“Should have just…dropped me at the goddamnedTower,” he manages hoarsely, bringing his knees up to hold his heavy head.

Bruce, refusing to be diverted, gets closeenough to wrap his long fingers around Tim’s ankle slowly, carefully. “No,” heclaims slowly, mind working furiously at the flow of new and disturbinginformation, “no, Tim. I’m glad, very glad, I brought you home.”

The laugh coming out of Tim’s bent head ishalf-way to a sob (home? There hasn’t been a home in a while actually),and Bruce’s hand moves up to grip into a calf instead, sliding subtly closer onhis knees.

Dick paces right beside him, being absurdlycareful, recognizing the reactions, the instincts Bruce bred into all hisRobins to fight when you’re out of all other options. It’s knee-jerkreaction to any situation.

“You blanked out for a few minutes there, Timmy.It looked like,” he hesitates slightly from saying it even if he has plentyof experience dealing with this kind of thing, “you were having a flashback.”

“I don’t talk about it,” is the hoarse reply,the horrible panting sounds finally easing down.

“I think we’re going to try checking over yourinjuries again,” Dick gingerly touches a few fingers to Tim’s limp hand,“without trying to set you off, okay? We’ll…Timmy, we’ll be right here withyou.” His finger firm a little, squeeze Tim’s fingers before the hand jerks outof his hold, the leg moving away from Bruce.

Tim scrambles backwards on the mat, shoves tohis feet because ignoring pain is something he does like a boss, but pity?Oh, he gets all kinds of pissed off about it.

Just ask Kon. The impressive choke hold issomething the super is probably never going to forget.

“I don’t need checked over. I don’t needanything other than a way to get back to my damn Tower—” and the fuckaway from here is implied.

Because really. They can stop this moundof variable bullshit anytime now.

“I don’t need whatever in the hell this,” andhis hands flutter around for a second, “this shit is all of a sudden. I lead mydamn team, and it doesn’t effect how I work. How I’ve workedfor the last few years. I’m. Fucking. Good.”

Bruce’s mouth flattens into a grim line, staringat his third Robin, the son that took his name without qualm, the son he’d letget too far the fuck away because he felt like he didn’t belong in hisown home. And Dick might share the burden of that, the younger vigilantenearly radiating beside him facing Tim down, ready to stop him if he tries tobolt.

And Bruce doesn’t feel bad about Damian andAlfred slowly coming up behind Tim to box him in, takes a moment to beratehimself for thinking he was doing the right thing in giving Tim the spacehe thought the former Robin needed to heal. The same space Dick needed when hehad to move on from the Robin mantle.

But he’d inadvertently caused both hisformer Robins nothing but pain by giving them the space to throw their bodiesinto the Mission to try and escape the devastation, the loss.

It’s another black mark under his name, but ifanything, Bruce, the Bat, has no qualms rectifying his mistakes.

And he’s perfectly fine starting now.

“Tim,” interrupts the snarling commentary on howRed Robin isn’t fucking anything up (which is unnecessary because Brucealready knows it), and makes the injured bird abruptly pause. “Let meget this straight.”

The third Robin stops, seems to mentally re-set,like when they started up a new case and the personal lives had to be left inthe Cave before they got into the big car for the upcoming night. It’s enoughof the old Tim that Bruce takes a few cautions steps, holding up fingersto tick off so he’s got Tim’s attention on the visual.

“You were kidnapped as your daytime persona, asTim Drake, not Red Robin—”

Oh shit. Well, World’s GreatestDetective. Of course he’d find out. It happened in his city.

“—they tortured you on a ship in the middle ofthe ocean. You escaped, brought them down, and turned them in to severalbranches of authorities. Four days ago, you showed up as Red Robin when theInsurgents hit Earth’s atmosphere. You went into a fight with your team againsta psychic horde without calling for back-up. And you won. Allright so far?”

“Sounds…about right.”

Bruce hums, nods, “and…why do you thinkI would questioning how effective you are as a vigilante?”

Wait.

Tim’s mouth works but nothing comes out because,well, point.

“I have no idea why you’re trying to convince mewhen I’m already well aware how incredible you are in the field. I don’tneed any other justifications. What I need to know,” and Bruce unfoldshis arms, hands loose at his sides, trying to look less intimidating so Tim’shackles won’t rise again, “is when your spleen was removed and what criminalcaused it. What I want to know is if you’ve seen anyone to help youthrough the trauma you went through on that ship. What I want to know is whyyou keep telling me you’re fine and you handle it when you are obviously notfine. No one, Tim, no one could be after all that.”

And the younger vigilante stares up at him,taller than the last time Bruce had a chance to really see him, withnarrow eyes that are already calculating his next moves. B knows it because hesees Tim’s eyes slide to Alfred and Damian, slide over to Dick before comingback to him. It’s saying something when the Bat is hovering at the fore of hismind, ready for another mad attack if Tim flips back into those flashbacks andstarts fighting by instinct.

“What I need to know is,” B counterssoftly, “why you didn’t come home when you needed to.”

When Tim stays silent, when his beaten, batteredbody gets as straight as it can, Bruce sees enough, knows enough.

He nods slowly, like he gets it, whateversilent message Tim is putting out, and returns that intense look, sees so muchhidden under the exterior that he should have picked up long before this verymoment.

“You three go upstairs. Have some downtime,” hewaves a shooing hand at Dick, Damian, and Alfred, “Tim didn’t get his coffee,and I honestly don’t need any more caffeine induced contingencies on my hands.”

“Bruce—” is Dick’s desperate attempt tostay because now he knows how much of this, how much of it isright on his head.

“Dick. Go have some downtime.”

Dami isn’t happy, is looking with his headtilted up, those dark eyes all for the scowl on Tim’s face, the sneer.

Alfred, however, steps between them, MasterTimothy and Master Bruce to break the stare down and lift a fresh cup andsaucer into the younger vigilante’s hand. It breaks the oldest man’s heart whenMaster Tim…hesitates.

But the hands are steady when the coffee istaken, and the young Master is looking carefully away from the butler, a musclein his jaw flickering.

“Thank-you,” is said softer than the rest.

“What else could I do, Master Tim? My life isdedicated to caring for my family, and that includes you.” A small pat to theyounger man’s head while the angry, defensive expression falls to wide-eyed andslack, like the younger Master is genuinely surprised. The saucer isheld tighter in busted fingers when Timothy’s spine snaps straighter and heblinks rapidly, trying to harden himself, pull his strength around him like acloak so none of them can see what abject pain he is in—how he obviouslywas very certain he no longer belonged here, with them all.

“Oh Tim,” the butler sighs sadly, gently, “thismay be untoward, so forgive me, but it is so nice to see you. As much as wehave missed, as much as you have suffered and succeeded, I am still so happy tohave you home.”

The reaction is those wide eyes, the true tellto Master Timothy’s thoughts returning to his face and immediately seeking outany deception on the butler’s part, any lies or placations, any shred ofevidence to support his previous theories.

Alfred smiles, just a small curve of his lowerlip, when the younger man’s shoulders lose a small bit of tension, just enoughto prove he found no lies here. When he can have just a hint of belief. It’sjust enough for Alfred to fit a hand on the younger man’s shoulder and squeezewith infinite gentleness before he’s herding two of his other charges up into theManor, casting a glance back at the long line of Master Bruce’s tense backbefore he and Master Dick exchange a very concerned look.

**

And they leave Tim and Bruce in the Cave withthe fluttering of bats, the gentle hum of working equipment, with damagedsuits, and healing bodies, with injuries and trauma.

It’s such a painful thing for Bruce, staring atTim and remembering a younger kid standing in the same place with the Rover his heart, the suit of his Robin and that crazy, wide grin in anticipationfor nightfall when they could move together.

When Tim’s team was Batman and Robin.

“None of this is necessary,” and it’s RedRobin’s voice, unshakeable and reliable. A leader. A vigilante.

And not the person Bruce wants to talk toright at this moment.

“I’m sorry,” Bruce cuts off that train ofthought, seeing past the denials and old pain, seeing past everythingTim is spitting out, the abject hurt, the theory that maybe, maybethey’d just been-been using him all this time. That he was just a kid ina cape or something just as ridiculous. “I’m sorry it got this far. I’m sorrynone of us, me or Dick or Alfred jumped in to remind you that you will alwayshave a home here, no matter what.  There’s no excuse for it, Tim,absolutely none.”

The younger vigilante frowns harder, his thoughtprocesses obvious to the World’s Greatest Detective.

“Once Damian and I could realistically worktogether, Dick left out of Gotham to trail the Titans and see if he could atleast talk to you, but the team was moving fast, so he wanted to waituntil you were in town again. But, regardless, we let this go on for toolong, letting you get further and further away without checking in, withoutcoming back.”

“I didn’t need to.” Tim interjects, firming hisjaw, still staying as far inside the mask as he possibly can, trying to protecthimself.

And Bruce finally sees it.

“And you don’t have to do this,” the youngervigilante puts the cup and saucer down immediately, eyes never losing that hardedge, “at all. It’s not necessary at this point. I’m still going to be theintel guy, the IT solution. I’ll still come when you call just like I’ve alwaysdone.”

“That’s not good enough.” Bruce insistsback, arms loose by his sides, “it was never supposed to be needed over wanted,and it isn’t like that. You won’t believe me until you have evidence, I knowalready, but Tim,” and Bruce comes up on him, not the stalk of the Bat or thestride of the daytime persona, it’s all Bruce Wayne—

Dad.

He’s careful but firm, hands tilting his son’sface up a little, taking in the widening eyes of surprise, “Tim, you arealways, will always be one of my sons. Just like Dick and Jasonand Damian. That’s what you agreed to when you took on the mask. You becamemine and the Batman’s, our Robin, our partner, our son, and yes,yes this is necessary. It’s completely and totally necessary becausealong the way the important things got pushed to the wayside, and it’s so farfrom fine that I can’t even begin to list the problems here.”

And the younger vigilante has the most probablereaction Bruce can predict.

He fights.

“Bullshit,” is hoarse, angry when Tim shovesaway, steps back, “and I don’t need bullshit, Bruce. You think Idon’t get it? I was the kid that figured out your secret, you hadto keep me, to keep me quiet about it. So of fucking course you’d let mewear the R. What would I have done if you hadn’t? Just because I got goodat it doesn’t mean I don’t fucking recognize how it never should have been me.It should have been Jason and then Damian. It should have been blood,not some fucking kid you never wanted.”

And God it hurts, these things tearingout him like fucking poison, like rancid bile he can finally vomit up, to get outof him.

“And you did good. You did great, Bruce,dealing with me. You really did. You did the best you could under thecircumstances,” and fuck, yes, he means it because Bruce was there forhim when he was Robin, when Dad died, when his world was going to shittime and time again. Bruce put up with his crap more than anyone in his entire life—evenhis real Dad. “I appreciate it, all the shit from back then. You don’t—” andhis chest hitches, but he grinds his teeth, straightens his back for it, “youdon’t even know how much I needed you. How much I respect you, how muchI wanted to be your partner and friend, and you gave me that, Bruce. You didthat for me, but…but your real son has the cape now, just like italways should have been, and I understand that. This,” and his handswaffle back-and-forth while he looks away, tries to choke down the bitternessall these realizations still leave behind, “this is the way it should havehappened. This is—” not okay, never fine, not really, “how itshould be.”

But when he looks back, chances a glance, hejerks a little because Bruce’s expression is—

(Is there some fear toxin somewhere? What thehell?)

The hands at Bruce’s sides are clenching intotight fists, his forearms cording, muscles getting tight.

“How long have you felt like this?” Theoldest vigilante demands in a low, dangerous voice, “how long do youthink I’ve just been tolerating you? How could you even— Jesus,Tim.”

But really, he’s the detective, right? “Iforced my way in,” he deadpans, “you never chose me, Bruce.”

And even though he’s come a long way from thatRobin to now, he’s still not fast enough to dodge Batman.

Nope. That’s not happening.

Because Bruce is across the span separating themin a skiff of shadows, literally picking him up off his feet with an arm aroundhis waist below the healing whip marks, the other hand buried in the hair atthe back of his head, pushing his face into Bruce’s neck and shoulder (and he’sshaking, Bruce, Batman, the unstoppable, the indomitable, is shaking).

The move is so out of what he expected,so unpredictable, Tim’s eyes are wide, just blinking wetly, hands up toautomatically brace himself on Bruce’s biceps.

“In…in the beginning, I was terrifiedof you,” Bruce blinks back his own wet eyes against the side of Tim’s too-longhair, “I was so scared of getting another innocent kid hurt, and you were…youwere so smart and so brave. You were fearless, Tim. You were perfect forthe job, but if I got you hurt, if I got you killed, if this world losteverything you are because of me and my Mission… then there would be noredemption. And I—” and Bruce grips him tighter, breathes in slowly,presses the side of his face into Tim’s hair harder, “I couldn’t lose you too.I couldn’t lose you, Tim.”

And that. To hear that it wasn’t becauseof Jason Todd, to hear that he was valued back then for himself, has Tim’sheart give a painful throb in his chest, makes him hold on to Bruce like he wasstill that Robin.

“In the beginning, I didn’t want anotherkid in danger. I didn’t want another person’s life in my hands, I didn’twant anyone else to suffer because of my choice to do this, to be Batman, to bethe crime fighter Gotham needed. So…so you-you were partially right. Backthen, I didn’t want you involved. When you helped solve Dick’s caseand-and you gave me no choice, Tim. You proved to me you were everything Ineeded Robin to be, everything Dick was, everything Jason was, everythingDamian is learning to be. There was no way I could let you go.”

And God, to hear that, just to hearthat from Bruce.

It’s more than he ever expected.

“You’re more than just a kid in a cape.You always were. You were always the kid I needed, the kid that groundedme, the kid that was so much like me that you should have been a Waynefrom the get-go. Just like Dick and Jason. You taught me just as much as Itaught you, and even though I never wanted to overstep my boundaries, I neverwanted to try and take your Dad away from you because—” and Bruce has to pause,has to let his eyes spill over because back then? Back then when Jack was anass, was a damn terrible father, Bruce still couldn’t fight him because, “—becauseif mine had lived, even if he couldn’t understand me and what I grew into…Istill would have at least had him.”

And Tim bites down on his lip hard enough todraw blood, but it doesn’t stop his eyes from spilling over too, from his armsmoving to wrap around Bruce’s shoulders and hold the fuck on.

“But,” Bruce breathes in, rolls his eyes upwardto try and calm down, “but when you still lost him, I…There was no question,Tim. There never was. You were my son just as much as his, and there was nevera question as to where you belonged, that you have a home here. Not-nota room, not a cot in the Cave, not a locker for your gear. Your home,Tim. And I…I thought I was helping, letting you be the vigilante you needed tobe. When you brought me back and it was Damian in the R, I… I understood why,but I still missed you. I was still…upset with Dick, doing thatwithout telling you, without giving you an opportunity to have your say. I wastrying to give you time to stop hurting, to grow from it. I was trying not topush you too hard, to make it hurt worse.”

Gentle movement, Bruce walking carefully towardthe medical gurney still carrying Tim without even straining, still holding himclose, still so painfully angry at himself for how long these thingsmust have been buried in Tim’s psyche, how all of it must have pushed thisyoung man to his breaking point.

“And I…” Bruce closes his eyes briefly as ithitches, “and I failed you, Tim. I’m so sorry that I failed you as your Dad.I’m sorry you ever thought I only wanted to keep you from telling mysecret because it was never about that.”

But Tim, hanging there, limply, pain a dull redthrob in his brain pain, gripping Bruce around the shoulders tight,hides his face away from the realizations, from the things he never imagined.

Bruce folds himself down and rocks justslightly, comforting them both a little with the motion, “and you’re not goingto believe all this. Not for a while. I know you, young man, and you’regoing to need time to believe in me again, to believe in the family, andthat’s-that’s okay. That’s completely understandable. I’ll give you as muchtime as you need, but goddammit, Tim, I’m not letting you getthat far out of my sight again. I’m not ever going to let you go. Whether youlike it or not, you’re stuck with us, kid.”

He doesn’t laugh or chuckle, still in a state ofshock since he really didn’t imagine this in his future, or well ever.

After all this time, all the bad guys andterrible night, all the sacrifices and job well dones, he’d pretty much figuredit was really…over.

This is a whole lot of unexpected that his brainpan can’t handle all at once. He needs time to think about it, to review theevidence.

“Give me a chance, Tim,” is breathed gently againsthis ear, “don’t give up on me yet. Please, don’t give up on me.”

“You’re an idiot,” he finds himself saying backwith a scratchy throat, “I didn’t give up on you when the world thought youwere dead. Like I’m going to start now?”

And Bruce, B, the Batman, just breathesout in the quiet dim of the Cave, holds this almost nineteen-year-old on hislap like he used to do to Dick when the kid was on overload or he’s finallygotten Damian to just deal with it.

“When I really believe you mean that, I’ll let yougo back to Titan’s Tower.”

That does earn a snickerbecause really, Bruce?

“Can you just—” and the World’s GreatestDetective hesitates for a second, not sure how hard he wants to push whenthere’s been some progress made tonight.

“…you want to know about the spleen thing,don’t you?”

Bruce pats the uninjured leg a little and nodswith Tim’s head tucked under his chin.

Closing his eyes, Tim sighs out through hisnose. But, well, to start gathering evidence, this might just be the way tostart.

[samslittlespoon]

Surrender

**I got a request from a wonderful anon for a song fic, so here goes! Anon, I hope I did that song justice - I had never heard it before and it was beautiful!

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Song: Surrender by Natalie Taylor. You tell Sam you’re better off apart. Then you realize you may need Sam more than you thought.

Word Count: ~1,100

Warnings: Angst, a little violence, and a lot of fluff!

A/N: God, this made me want to go hug someone and tell them it will all be okay As always, my ask is open for requests, to be added to tags, thoughts, feedback, or if you just want to say hi :). I love love, so send some!

“It’s okay, y/n. Just say it, I promise I won’t get upset.” Your sweet boyfriend encouraged you. Your throat tightened in a giant knot. His support was just making this harder to deal with.

You took a deep breath and prepared to deliver the fear that had been bubbling just below your surface for weeks now. You needed to tell him the truth. You owed it to him. “Sam,” you began, gently placing a tender hand on his large forearm. “I don’t think we can be together anymore.”

You choked back a sob as you watched your boyfriend crumble before you. The look of surprise in his eyes was so piercing that you had to turn away.

“I just think that-,” you went on, “I - I think I’m a danger to you. You worry about me too much, and you blame yourself for everything that happens to me, and I can’t carry that cross anymore Sam. I love how much you care, but I can’t date a martyr.” You watched as his eyes grew rounder, brimming with tears. He was silent, gathering his thoughts.

His voice came out a little more than a whisper. “But I need you, y/n.” You bit your lip harder, tears breaking through your barrier, and rolling down your cheeks. “Please,” his voice broke. “Please.”

You shook your head, fat tears dripping from your cheeks, falling on to his jeans with a barely audible thud. Sam ran a thumb under your eyes before wrapping his big hand around your head, pulling you to him. He pressed his lips to your hair, holding you there, savoring his last moments with you. 

You felt his hot tears in your hair. His chest heaved slightly as he tried to smother his crying in your body. The pain in your chest was unbearable and it was growing, burning it’s way through you, hot and vengeful. 

+++++

It had been nearly a year since you had cut ties with Sam Winchester, and yet not one day had gone by that you didn’t wish you had him by your side. As a hunter, a partner, a boyfriend, and person in general, you were realizing the hole he left in your life.

Your mind had taken a beating after the break-up, constantly filled with worries. What if you never found someone who loved you like that? What if you compared every man you dated to Sam? What if you never found anyone as attractive as you found him? Most importantly, how the hell were you going to become a better hunter without the support of one of the greatest hunters of all time? 

You were realizing that after dating Sam, you weren’t you without him. You didn’t exist if he wasn’t there to acknowledge you. You couldn’t feel if he wasn’t touching you. Without him, you just were a ghost that wasn’t dead yet. 

You sat in your car enjoying your second McDonald’s cheese burger of day, trying yet again to figure out where that damn vamp nest was. It had to be around somewhere, you found all the clues, but no vamps. 

A sharp wrapping on your window sent you flying from your seat, reaching for your knife. A muffled apology for scaring you sent your heart racing even faster as you recognized the voice.

You dared not look as the reality sunk in. The voice had sounded just like Sam. You were actually afraid to look and confirm that it wasn’t him. The idea that it just might be him standing outside your door was just so savory that you couldn’t let it go yet. Finally, you turned - and your heart sank as outside your window stood a regular man.

You rolled down your window, preparing to get asked directions, hardly masking your annoyance, when the man bared his extra set of vamp teeth and reared back, preparing to attack you through the window. Your eyes widened in horror. There was no time to react, and no room for you to get enough of an arm swing to decapitate the beast - this was it, you realized. Your last vision will be the moonlight and rain and this fucking vampire.

But you weren’t going down without a fight. As the vamp leaned forward you jabbed him in the eye, hard. He reared back, yelling, and pulled the knife out of his eye.

Suddenly, as if on cue, a large shadow leaped from behind your car and swung an axe full-force through the neck of bleeding vampire. You took no time scrambling out of the car, ready to face this new monster, knife in hand.

“GET BACK!” You yelled, wielding your knife. “I’LL KILL YOU.”

“Hey, hey,” said a gentle voice that immediately made your heart seize up. “It’s okay, y/n. It’s just me.” The shadow man stepped into the moonlight and you realized that finally your heart had been right. It was Sam. 

“Sam,” you breathed. It took all you had not to run into his arms. “You saved my life.”

“I know!“ He said incredulously, lifting his arms, then dropping the heavily at his side. “That was a fucking close call.” He sounded curt, like he was reprimanding you. “I had to make sure you were okay. You know, just as a fellow hunter. It’s what we do.”

“You…” you trailed off to think as his words played through your brain. “You followed me?”

“Of course, y/n. I had to make sure you were okay. You know I could never let you go.”

You swallowed hard, fighting the knot that was growing in your throat like it had the year before. You kicked your toe at the ground in thought.

Shoulders drooped, you came clean. “I-I never fully let you go either. Sam I am so sorry.” You stepped closer and looked into his big, sad eyes. You knew he understood your pain. “Not a day went by that I didn’t think I made a huge mistake. I fucked up. I need you, I really, really do.”

The rain poured on the both of you as Sam stepped closer. He wrapped his arms purposefully around your waist, pulling you to him. It felt just like you remembered, and you sighed contentedly. 

“I’m so sorry I ran. But I’m tired of fighting my inner demons. I give up, I want to be with you still.” You threw your arms around the large man who stood before you. “I surrender.”

Sam pressed his lips softly into your wet forehead. Both your tears mixed in with the rain, falling to the ground. “Welcome back,” he whispered into your hair.

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#Giveaway + Excerpt ~ Sweet Adventure by Tamie Dearen... #books #romance

Title: Sweet Adventures

Author: Tamie Dearen

Genre: Sweet Contemporary Romance

Cover Designer: Najla Qamber Designs

Publication Date: June 13, 2019 Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR Blurb: Will Katie jump into the shark-infested waters for a second chance at love?

Katie Carson is afraid of everything. Spiders. Sharks. And especially love… thanks to her ex-fiancé. That's why her immediate attraction to the reckless Gary Lassiter scares her to death. Sure, he looks like Superman and he saved her from a giant arachnid, but he's an adrenaline junkie.

Gary Lassiter owes his life to his best friend, Steven. But his loyalty is tested when he meets Steven's PA, Katie. Though Steven and Katie are probably a better-suited match, Gary wants Katie for himself. He sees a lot of spunk behind her overtly timid façade, and he’s determined to bring it out in the open.

When the three spend a week at Indigo Bay, Katie starts to fall for Gary, even stepping outside her comfort zone. It’s all fun and games until her adventure brings her to a moment of life or death. Thrown into the nightmares of her past, she’s convinced they can’t have a future together. Will Gary get past her defenses?

This is the sixth book in the Indigo Bay Second Chance Romance series. All books have been written as standalones, so feel free to dive in anywhere!

NOW LIVE ON MOST RETAILERS!

Tamie Dearen lives in Texas with her very romantic husband—her own personal romance hero. She’s been involved in creative writing since elementary school, though her degrees are in the science fields—Chemistry and a D.D.S. But a more recent master’s degree in higher education sparked her writing bug again. And with a zany and wonderful bunch of family and friends, there’s no end of inspiration for her stories. Contact her on her website at TamieDearen.com.

Author Links:

Amazon: https://amzn.to/2XD2iaR

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7337567.Tamie_Dearen

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TamieDearen/

Web: https://www.tamiedearen.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/TamieDearen

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tamie-dearen

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Chapter One

Katie screamed, jumping up so fast her desk chair crashed to the floor behind her. The spider on her desk was gargantuan—approximately the size of Godzilla—covered with spiky brown hairs. She could tell by the menacing look in each of its ten million beady eyes it was preparing to leap at her and inflict a lethal bite.

Maybe it already bit me!

She checked her arms for signs of puncture wounds.

“Is something wrong?”

The deep voice startled her, and she whipped around, stumbling on the overturned chair. The room tilted and a sledge hammer impacted the back of her head. She looked up from the floor, stars swirling in front of the face that bent over her. Thick brows furrowed over crystal blue eyes.

I know that face—it’s Superman!

Pain thudded in her skull, forcing her eyelids closed. 

“Are you okay?”

“Just hit my head,” she mumbled.

Her eyes came open as gentle hands lifted under her shoulders. The blue-eyed hero was kneeling beside her, so close she caught a whiff of his enticing scent, a combination of minty clean and a dash of masculine aftershave. Curling her legs to the side, she sat up and groaned, raising her hand to the back of her head.

“Let me see,” he said.

Her face was pressed against his clean black t-shirt, as his fingers parted her hair to probe the tender scalp on the back of her head. She inhaled deeply, enjoying the intoxicating smell.

“It’s not bleeding,” Superman announced. “Good thing you have this padded rug under your desk. The tile would’ve split it open.”

As her hero uprighted her chair, she couldn’t help noticing how his back muscles flexed and bulged, pressing against the thin cotton.

That’s strange… I’ve never wished I was a t-shirt before.

Stretching to his full-height, something over six feet, he turned to face her and bestowed a slow smile that sent warmth furling in her belly. Damp tendrils on his forehead suggested he’d been in the shower moments earlier.

Had he come from the company gym? She only interacted with a few of Gherring, Inc.’s employees, the ones who came to the board room to meet with Steven Gherring, her boss. She’d certainly never met this guy before. No way she could forget Superman.

He rubbed his hand across the stubble of dark beard on his square jaw, and she imagined her fingers doing the same, tracing the sharp angle, relishing the masculine feel of the soft bristles on her sensitive skin.

His eyes sparkled as if he somehow read her thoughts, and blood rushed up her neck to highlight her embarrassment.

As if it wasn’t humiliating enough to meet Superman when I’m sprawled on the floor.

“I’ll help you up,” he said.

She placed her palms in his outstretched hands. Big mistake! Charged like an ongoing static shock, his touch sucked the air from her lungs in a whoosh. Before she could escape his electrifying grasp, his large hands folded over hers. With what seemed to be little effort, he hefted her up and eased her into the chair. Then he sat back on the edge of her desk, folding his arms.

The spider!

“Stand up! Get off the desk!” she yelped.

At her cry, he jolted to his feet and whipped around, staring at it as though it might explode at any moment. “What’s wrong with the desk?”

She aimed a wobbly finger at the desktop, the last place she’d seen the spider, who’d now retreated into some unseen place. No doubt, his plan was to hide away, waiting patiently until she’d forgotten about him, only to spring out and clamp his jaws on her skin.

“There’s a spider.”

He glanced at the desktop, empty except for her laptop, the dark wood pristine as always, not a scrap of paper marring the gleaming surface. “Where?”

“He’s hiding now. Probably went underneath or in a drawer, but he was humongous.” She stretched her arms as wide as they would go.

“That big, huh?” The corners of his mouth twitched.

“He was huge. And poisonous. A brown recluse.” She put enough certainty in her voice to properly warn him, though she hoped her hero was brave enough to slay the skulking beast.

“Venomous.” He sank to his knees, peering under her desk. “Spiders are venomous, not poisonous.”

“Either way, I hate them.”

“It wasn’t a brown recluse, though.”

“How do you know? Do you see him?”

“Not yet, but I know we don’t have brown recluse spiders in New York City. It gets too cold here.”

Too her horror, half his body disappeared under her desk, deep into the spider’s lair. “Don’t go in there.”

A muffled chuckle sounded, before he backed out and stood, miraculously unmarked, brushing his fingers on his jeans. “I knocked a little spider web down. That should take care of it.” His hand swept toward the desk, as if all were clear.

“No, thanks. I’ll just do my work over here until the exterminators come.” Katie stood, crept toward her laptop and snatched it, retreating back to her chair, well away from the spider’s domain. Then the monster emerged, charging across the rug. “There he is!” she yelled, on her feet and scrambling away. “Get him before he makes it to the bookshelves!”

With amazing calm, her hero stepped on the spider. Relief flooded Katie’s system, knowing she wouldn’t have to be on guard for his reappearance. Superman bent down and examined the conquered foe.

“You’re that afraid of a tiny little spider?” He cocked his head at her, fingers shoving through his damp locks, pushing them into adorable disarray.

She shrugged. “He looked bigger on the desk.”

He coughed behind his hand, but it sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “Now that we’ve ended this horrible arachnid infestation, I’m here to see Steven.”

Katie snapped into her role, Guardian of the CEO.

“I’m sorry. Do you have an appointment, Mr. …?” She left the question hanging.

“Lassiter. Gary Lassiter. And no, I don’t have an appointment, but—”

“I’m afraid Mr. Gherring won’t be able to see you without an appointment. His schedule is quite full. Let’s see when we can fit you in.” She opened her laptop and pulled up his schedule, with no real intention of making an appointment. Steven Gherring had given strict instructions not to schedule any appointments he didn’t initiate himself. One of Gherring’s subordinates would no doubt handle this man, clearly an intruder, even if he did look like Superman and valiantly slayed large spiders.

“I think Steven will want to talk to me. We’re partners in a business deal.”

“If you aren’t willing to follow protocol, Mr. Lassiter, you may find your business deal canceled.”

“I’ll take my chances.” With an arrogant grin, Gary edged toward the entrance to Gherring’s private office, an ornately carved wood door.

In a flash, Katie was on her feet, racing for the door. With the element of surprise on her side, she reached it first, barring the entrance with her body. Her chin lifted in dogged determination as she glared up at the invader, who towered over her by at least six inches.

“No one goes through this door without an appointment.”

His devastating blue eyes crinkled at the corners as he retrieved his cell phone and held up his index finger. “One moment, please.”

He tapped once on his screen and held the phone to his ear. “Hi… I’m here… No, I can’t… Because your very attractive pit bull is guarding the door, baring her teeth at me.”

Katie heard her boss’ laughter from the phone in Gary’s hand just before the door opened behind her.

She barely kept her jaw from dropping. This interloper had Steven Gherring’s personal cell number?

“I tried to tell you.” Gary shook his head.

Her face radiated heat. But for the recent spider web, she might’ve crawled under her desk to hide. Instead, she aimed a glare at her boss. “You made an appointment with this man and didn’t bother to tell me?”

“An oversight on my part, Ms. Carson. It won’t happen again.”

His lips curved into the trademark, billion-dollar smile that left most women swooning. Katie, however, was impervious to his charms. Not because he was thirteen years older—he certainly didn’t look it—but because she’d sworn off men two years ago. All men. Including handsome billionaires, like her boss.

And hunky spider-killers who’re too smug for their own good.

“It was nice to meet you, Ms. Carson,” said Gary, apparently unaware of the poison darts her eyes sent his way. “I hope you don’t encounter any more giant arachnids.”

“Thank you for disposing of that one,” she mumbled, more irritated than grateful.

He followed Steven inside the door, but turned to his head to toss over his shoulder, “Just thought you might want to know, I noticed a bunch of empty spider eggs in that web.”

The door clicked closed behind him, but the sound was drowned out by the bass drum her heart pounded in her ear.

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New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/shape-of-water-three-billboards-lead-oscar-nominations/72959/

'Shape of Water,' 'Three Billboards' lead Oscar nominations

NEW YORK/January 23, 2018 (AP)(STL.News) — Guillermo del Toro’s lavish monster romance “The Shape of Water” fished out a leading 13 nominations, Greta Gerwig became just the fifth woman nominated for best director and “Mudbound” director of photography Rachel Morrison made history as the first woman nominated for best cinematography in nominations announced Tuesday for the 90th annual Academy Awards.

Oscar voters put forward nine best-picture nominees: “The Shape of Water ,” Martin McDonaugh’s rage-fueled comic drama “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri ,” Gerwig’s nuanced coming-of-age tale “Lady Bird ,” Jordan Peele’s horror sensation “Get Out ,” Joe Wright’s Winston Churchill drama “Darkest Hour ,” Steven Spielberg’s timely newspaper drama “The Post ,” Christopher Nolan’s World War II epic “Dunkirk ,” Luca Guadagnino’s tender love story “Call Me By Your Name ” and Paul Thomas Anderson’s twisted romance “Phantom Thread .”

“The Shape of Water” landed just shy of tying the record of 14 nominations by “All About Eve,” ”Titanic” and “La La Land.” Del Toro’s dark fantasy — a Cold War era ode to outsiders about a mute cleaning lady and an amphibious creature — scored a wide array for nominations for its cast (Sally Hawkins, Richard Jenkins, Octavia Spencer), del Toro’s directing, its sumptuous score (by Alexandre Desplat) and its technical craft.

Reached by phone Tuesday in Los Angeles, del Toro said he would celebrate by working and eating an extra chicken sausage for breakfast. “That will be my indulgence for the day.”

The Mexican filmmaker said “The Shape of Water” has resonated because it explodes “the myth of ‘us and them.'”

“You realize that we are all, in some way or another, a bit of an outsider in different ways,” said del Toro. “Not fearing the other but embracing the other is the only way to go as a race. The urgency of that message of hope and emotion is what sustained the faith for roughly half a decade that the movie needed to be made.”

The cascading fallout of sexual harassment scandals throughout Hollywood put particular focus on the best director category, which for many is a symbol of gender inequality in the film industry. Gerwig follows only Lina Wertmuller, Jane Campion, Sofia Coppola and Kathryn Bigelow, the sole woman to win (for “The Hurt Locker”).

Also nominated for best director was Peele. He becomes the fifth black filmmaker nominated for best director, and the third to helm a best-picture nominee, following Barry Jenkins last year for “Moonlight.” He’s also the third person to receive best picture, director and writing nods for his first feature film after Warren Beatty (“Heaven Can Wait”) and James L. Brooks (“Terms of Endearment”).

“What’s the opposite of the Sunken Place?” said Peele on Twitter.

Though all of the acting front-runners — Frances McDormand (“Three Billboards”), Gary Oldman (“Darkest Hour”), Allison Janney (“I, Tonya”), Sam Rockwell (“Three Billboards”) — landed their expected nominations, there were surprises.

Denzel Washington (“Roman J. Israel, Esq.”) was nominated for best actor, likely eclipsing James Franco (“Disaster Artist”). Franco was accused of sexual misconduct, which he denied, just days before Oscar voting closed. The category’s other nominees were a retiring veteran — Daniel Day-Lewis for what he’s said is his final performance (“Phantom Thread”) — and a pair of breakouts: Timothee Chalamet (“Call Me By Your Name”) and “Daniel Kaluuya (“Get Out”).

Christopher Plummer, who replaced Kevin Spacey in Ridley Scott’s “All the Money in the World,” also sneaked into the best supporting actor category. Added to the film in reshoots little more than a month before the film’s release, 88-year-old Plummer is the oldest acting nominee ever.

Perhaps most unexpected was the broad success of Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Phantom Thread,” which scored not only nods for Day-Lewis and Lesley Manville, for best supporting actress, but also nominations for best picture, Anderson’s direction, costume design and Johnny Greenwood’s score.

Anderson likely displaced not only Steven Spielberg (“The Post”) but Martin McDonagh, the director of the film many have tapped to win best picture, “Three Billboards.” His absence is a major knock for a film that has endured the harshest backlash of the contenders, with many claiming it’s out of touch in matters of race.

Still, “Three Billboards” scored seven nominations Tuesday, behind only “The Shape of Water” and Christopher Nolan’s “Dunkirk.” The World War II epic, thus far little-honored in Hollywood’s awards season, emerged especially strong with Oscar voters, taking eight nominations, many of them in technical categories. It’s Nolan’s first nomination for best director.

Though the favorites are largely independent films, a number of blockbusters fared well, including five nods for “Blade Runner 2049,” four for “Star Wars: The Last Jedi,” three for “Baby Driver,” two for “Beauty and the Beast” and two for Pixar’s “Coco,” which is up for best animated feature.

Still, Patty Jenkins’ “Wonder Woman,” which became the highest grossing movie ever directed by a woman, failed to receive any Oscar nods despite an awards campaign. (Sean Baker’s far lower budgeted “The Florida Project” also managed only a supporting actor nomination for Willem Dafoe despite hopes for a best picture nod.)

But the box-office hit that carved the most unlikely path to the Oscars was “Get Out.” It opened back in February on Oscar weekend, and went on to pocket $254.7 million worldwide. It scored four nominations.

Though many minorities were still absent from the acting categories, the film academy, which has worked to diversify its membership, put forward a field of nominees almost as diverse as last year when “Moonlight,” ”Fences” and “Hidden Figures” powered a rebuttal to the “OscarsSoWhite” backlash of the two years prior. Four black actors — Washington, Kaluuya, Spencer and Mary J. Blige (“Mudbound”) — are among the 20 acting nominees.

Meryl Streep, who stars as Washington Post publisher Katharine Graham in “The Post,” notched her 21st Oscar nomination. She was joined for best actress by McDormand, Hawkins, Saoirse Ronan (“Lady Bird”) and Margot Robbie (“I, Tonya”).

“I am honored beyond measure by this nomination for a film I love, a film that stands in defense of press freedom, and inclusion of women’s voices in the movement of history,” Streep said in a statement. “Proud of the film, and all her filmmakers. Thank you from a full heart.”

The 89-year-old French filmmaking legend Agnes Varda, an honorary Oscar winner this season, is also up for best documentary for her co-directed “Faces Places.” The other nominees are: “Abacus: Small Enough to Jail,” ”Last Men in Aleppo” and two Netflix entries: “Icarus” and “Strong Island.” Yance Ford, the director of “Strong Island,” about Ford’s investigation into his brother’s 1992 murder, becomes the first transgender filmmaker nominated for an Oscar.

Some had lobbied for “A Fantastic Woman” star Daniela Vega to become the first transgender actor nominated. While Vega didn’t garner a nomination, her film, from Chile, landed in the best foreign language category. The other nominees are: “The Insult,” from Lebanon; “Loveless,” from Russia; “On Body and Soul,” from Hungary; and the Palme d’Or winner “The Square,” from Sweden.

Last year’s Oscars broadcast, hosted by Jimmy Kimmel, drew 32.9 million viewers for ABC, a four percent drop from the prior year. More worrisome, however, was a steeper slide in the key demographic of adults aged 18-49, whose viewership was down 14 percent from 2016.

Though the show ran especially long, at three hours and 49 minutes, it finished with a bang: the infamous envelope mix-up that led to “La La Land” being incorrectly announced as the best picture before “Moonlight” was crowned.

This year, the academy has prohibited the PwC accountants who handle the envelopes from using cellphones or social media during the show. The accounting firm on Monday also unveiled several reforms including the addition of a third balloting partner in the show’s control room. But the movie business has larger accounting problems. Movie attendance hit a 24-year low in 2017 despite the firepower of “The Last Jedi,” ”Beauty and the Beast” and “Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2.”

It was a dominant if bittersweet day for 20th Century Fox. Its specialty label, Fox Searchlight, is behind both “Three Billboards” and “The Shape of Water,” and Fox released “The Post.” Yet Fox’s leading 27 nominations may soon count for the Walt Disney Co., which last month reached a deal to purchase Fox for $52.4 billion.

Both Amazon and Netflix failed to crack the best picture category but earned nominations elsewhere. Netflix’s “Mudbound” scored four nods and Amazon’s “The Big Sick” grabbed a nomination for Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V. Gordon’s original screenplay about their real-life romance.

“At times we worried it would be insurmountable, or would rip us apart, or even worse — that no one would like it,” Nanjiani and Gordon said in a joint statement. “The fact that it connected with audiences is exhilarating, and this nomination proves that our love is real. We have decided to stay married.”

By Associated Press, published on STL.NEWS by St. Louis Media, LLC (J.S)

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New Post has been published on https://www.stl.news/del-toros-shape-of-water-lands-a-leading-13-oscar-nods-2/72867/

Del Toro's 'Shape of Water' lands a leading 13 Oscar nods

NEW YORK/January 23, 2018 (AP)(STL.News) — Guillermo del Toro’s lavish monster romance “The Shape of Water” fished out a leading 13 nominations, Greta Gerwig became just the fifth woman nominated for best director and “Mudbound” director of photography Rachel Morrison made history as the first woman nominated for best cinematography in nominations announced Tuesday for the 90th annual Academy Awards.

Oscar voters put forward nine best-picture nominees: “The Shape of Water ,” Martin McDonaugh’s rage-fueled comic drama “Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri ,” Gerwig’s nuanced coming-of-age tale “Lady Bird ,” Jordan Peele’s horror sensation “Get Out ,” Joe Wright’s Winston Churchill drama “Darkest Hour ,” Steven Spielberg’s timely newspaper drama “The Post ,” Christopher Nolan’s World War II epic “Dunkirk ,” Luca Guadagnino’s tender love story “Call Me By Your Name ” and Paul Thomas Anderson’s twisted romance “Phantom Thread .”

“The Shape of Water” landed just shy of tying the record of 14 nominations by “All About Eve,” ”Titanic” and “La La Land.” Del Toro’s dark fantasy scored a wide array for nominations for its cast (Sally Hawkins, Richard Jenkins, Octavia Spencer), del Toro’s directing, its sumptuous score (by Alexandre Desplat) and technical craft.

“It is a privilege to tell such stories and to be able to make films that show there is a life beyond the life that people know — one that is not always seen,” said best actress nominee Hawkins.

The cascading fallout of sexual harassment scandals throughout Hollywood put particular focus on the best director category, which for many is a symbol of gender inequality in the film industry. Gerwig follows only Lina Wertmuller, Jane Campion, Sofia Coppola and Kathryn Bigelow, the sole woman to win (for “The Hurt Locker”).

Also nominated for best director was Peele. He becomes the fifth black filmmaker nominated for best director, and the third to helm a best-picture nominee, following Barry Jenkins last year for “Moonlight.” He’s also the third person to receive best picture, director and writing nods for his first feature film after Warren Beatty (“Heaven Can Wait”) and James L. Brooks (“Terms of Endearment”).

“What’s the opposite of the Sunken Place?” said Peele on Twitter.

Though all of the acting front-runners — Frances McDormand (“Three Billboards”), Gary Oldman (“Darkest Hour”), Allison Janney (“I, Tonya”), Sam Rockwell (“Three Billboards”) — landed their expected nominations, there were surprises.

Denzel Washington (“Roman J. Israel, Esq.”) was nominated for best actor, likely eclipsing James Franco (“Disaster Artist”). Franco was accused of sexual misconduct, which he denied, just days before Oscar voting closed. The category’s other nominees were a retiring veteran — Daniel Day-Lewis for what he’s said is his final performance (“Phantom Thread”) — and a pair of breakouts: Timothee Chalamet (“Call Me By Your Name”) and “Daniel Kaluuya (“Get Out”).

Christopher Plummer, who replaced Kevin Spacey in Ridley Scott’s “All the Money in the World,” also sneaked into the best supporting actor category. Added to the film in reshoots little more than a month before the film’s release, Plummer is now, at 88, the oldest acting nominee ever.

Perhaps most unexpected was the broad success of Paul Thomas Anderson’s “Phantom Thread,” which scored not only nods for Day-Lewis and Lesley Manville, for best supporting actress, but also nominations for best picture, Anderson’s direction, costume design and Johnny Greenwood’s score.

Anderson likely displaced not only Steven Spielberg (“The Post”) but Martin McDonagh, the director of the film many have tapped to win best picture, “Three Billboards.” His absence is a major knock for a film that has endured the harshest backlash of the contenders, with many claiming it’s out of touch in matters of race.

Still, “Three Billboards” scored seven nominations Tuesday, behind only “The Shape of Water” and Christopher Nolan’s “Dunkirk.” The World War II epic, thus far little-honored in Hollywood’s awards season, emerged especially strong with Oscar voters, taking eight nominations, many of them in technical categories. It’s Nolan’s first nomination for best director.

Though the favorites are largely independent films, a number of blockbusters fared well, including five nods for “Blade Runner 2049,” four for “Star Wars: The Last Jedi,” three for “Baby Driver,” two for “Beauty and the Beast” and two for Pixar’s “Coco,” which is up for best animated feature. Still, Patty Jenkins’ “Wonder Woman,” which became the highest grossing movie ever directed by a woman, failed to receive any Oscar nods despite an awards campaign.

But the box-office hit that carved the most unlikely path to the Oscars was “Get Out.” It opened back in February on Oscar weekend, and went on to pocket $254.7 million worldwide. It scored four nominations.

Though many minorities were still absent from the acting categories, the film academy, which has worked to diversify its membership, put forward a field of nominees almost as diverse as last year when “Moonlight,” ”Fences” and “Hidden Figures” powered a rebuttal to the “OscarsSoWhite” backlash of the two years prior. Four black actors — Washington, Kaluuya, Spencer and Mary J. Blige (“Mudbound”) — are among the 20 acting nominees.

Meryl Streep, who stars as Washington Post publisher Katharine Graham in “The Post,” notched her 21st Oscar nomination. She was joined for best actress by McDormand, Hawkins, Saoirse Ronan (“Lady Bird”) and Margot Robbie (“I, Tonya”).

“I am honored beyond measure by this nomination for a film I love, a film that stands in defense of press freedom, and inclusion of women’s voices in the movement of history,” Streep said in a statement. “Proud of the film, and all her filmmakers. Thank you from a full heart.”

The 89-year-old French filmmaking legend Agnes Varda, an honorary Oscar winner this season, is also up for best documentary for her co-directed “Faces Places.” The other nominees are: “Abacus: Small Enough to Jail,” ”Last Men in Aleppo” and two Netflix entries: “Icarus” and “Strong Island.”

Some had lobbied for “A Fantastic Woman” star Daniela Vega to become the first transgender actor nominated. While Vega didn’t garner a nomination, her film, from Chile, landed in the best foreign language category. The other nominees are: “The Insult,” from Lebanon; “Loveless,” from Russia; “On Body and Soul,” from Hungary; and the Palme d’Or winner “The Square,” from Sweden.

Last year’s Oscars broadcast, hosted by Jimmy Kimmel, drew 32.9 million viewers for ABC, a four percent drop from the prior year. More worrisome, however, was a steeper slide in the key demographic of adults aged 18-49, whose viewership was down 14 percent from 2016.

Though the show ran especially long, at three hours and 49 minutes, it finished with a bang: the infamous envelope mix-up that led to “La La Land” being incorrectly announced as the best picture before “Moonlight” was crowned.

This year, the academy has prohibited the PwC accountants who handle the envelopes from using cellphones or social media during the show. The accounting firm on Monday also unveiled several reforms including the addition of a third balloting partner in the show’s control room. But the movie business has larger accounting problems. Movie attendance hit a 24-year low in 2017 despite the firepower of “The Last Jedi,” ”Beauty and the Beast” and “Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 2.”

It was a dominant if bittersweet day for 20th Century Fox. Its specialty label, Fox Searchlight, is behind both “Three Billboards” and “The Shape of Water,” and Fox released The Post.” Yet those wins may soon count for the Walt Disney Co., which last month reached a deal to purchase Fox for $52.4 billion.

Both Amazon and Netflix failed to crack the best picture category but earned nominations elsewhere. Netflix’s “Mudbound” scored four nods and Amazon’s “The Big Sick” grabbed a nomination for Holly Hunter, best supporting actress, and Kumail Nanjiani and Emily V. Gordon’s original screenplay about their real-life romance.

“At times we worried it would be insurmountable, or would rip us apart, or even worse — that no one would like it,” Nanjiani and Gordon said in a joint statement. “The fact that it connected with audiences is exhilarating, and this nomination proves that our love is real. We have decided to stay married.”

By Associated Press, published on STL.NEWS by St. Louis Media, LLC (J.S)