#IC drabble

[militibus-ex-umbra]

Mother's Day of Peace - DMC

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Dante and Vergil both returned to the burnt out ruins of their childhood home. After all of the destruction that had been brought to Redgrave it was amazing that this burned down manor had stood the test of time even now. The city did have reconstruction efforts being done to bring life back to it. But it was unlikely anyone else would return to this home besides the twin Sons of Sparda.

Dante held a bouquet of three different flowers that he and Vergil had been able to decide upon. If it wasn't for help from Kyrie, Nero's girlfriend, they probably would never have been able to figure out a proper arrangement. One flower a striking red to represent Dante, Another a cold chilling blue for Vergil, and the final flower group a deep royal purple for their long lost father... Sparda. He was still assumed dead though there was never the official confirmation. No monument left to him or gravestone. His body was never even found.

All that one could assume that he was dead. After all if he was alive he would have saved his family wouldn't he? To be there to rescue his wife from her death when they were just boys. Sparda did love Eva with all of his demonic heart.

But now they both were gone.

Vergil moved into the house to place the heavy marbled stone he had brought. With engravings on the marker rock for both Eva and Sparda. He placed it directly infront of the ruined family portrait. What had once been a symbol of his great shame not that long ago.

His icey cold eyes stared up at it as he finished placing the marker stone. It's weight keeping it secured to the floor, it's magical enchantments Vergil had carved into it would keep even the most powerful demons from being able to desecrate it. As he continued to stare lost in thought at the painting. Dante moved wordlessly next to him to place the flowers at the head of the newly placed tombstone.

"Rest in Peace Mom, and Happy Mother's Day." Dante spoke softly as he laid the flowers down as gently as one would lay a newborn in their cradle. Leaning back up and placing a hand upon Vergil's shoulder. "I hope they're both resting in peace." He muttered softly.

Vergil felt a small smile grace his lips as he looked to his brother. "We aren't trying to kill each other anymore. That should ease her suffering I'd hope."

Dante returned the smile before lightly punching his brother's shoulder instead of using it for support. "Come on, you still have a son to go suck up to. His mom's not around and it's something you have to make up to him." He spoke teasingly. Motioning for Vergil to follow after him.

Vergil let out a dismissive scoff at his brother's comment. Though he didn't deny his sentiment. With a more content feeling swelling in his chest he looked back to their new tribute to their lost family.

"Happy mother's day. I hope you aren't too ashamed of how long this took." He spoke cheerful despite the heaviness of his words. Before following after Dante.

Nothing could stop them now, they were truly family once more.

[crossed-worlds]

Inventor's Dog (Drabble)

"T-pup! Here boy!" He finally decided to check on his lab and his dog, look he loved the little doid. T-Pup was all he had for so long!

"Bark! Bark!"

The little canine robot dashed out from his charging port to go to his master, jumping up and trying to lick at the fox's face with his rubbery tongue. Aeolus laughed and picked up his little companion, holding T-Pup close enough to allow the little creation to have this moment of joy.

"Okay! Okay! Down boy! Down!" He couldnt be mad, this little dog....was all the family he had left. He crouched as he set the canine down and reached in his pocket for the empty can he had pocketed from one of Solaria's rifts. "Look what I brought you! Aluminum!"

He saw his pup's ears perk up at the word. Their island wasn't exactly rich in scrap so it was a rare treat indeed for his little machine. T-Pup was equipped to process any soft scrap metal into nails, screws, and bolts for later projects. Aeolus wouldn't call it..."eating" per-say, but the behavior was pretty much the same for any dog.

"Do you want it?" A soft excited growl was his response. "Sit."

Wirrr....Clunk.

"Roll over."

Ticka tac...

"Play dead!"

KA- BOOM!!!

Aeolus shielded his face from the flying parts of his hound...oh yeah... he added that self repair function just in case something happened. But this is NOT what he meant by the command.

"Uhhh....Mental Note: Fix bug in obedience program." Oh well... a few seconds later and T-Pup was fine. Aeolus sighed and handed over the can for the robot hound. "Good boy...."

[fangoffenrir]

Her closet cosplay of a True Cross exorcist wasn't perfect, but one would assume a statuesque 6'2" redhead with her hair up looked suited for field work.

The black overcoat was close, but less one row of buttons and the collar wasn't as stiff. The brooch she'd used as a base for glamouring a True Cross insignia pin had a flat back, instead of being three-dimensional the entire way. Rayna's Doc Martens were actually a match, after removing any cutesy charms from the laces.

Despite not being her competition gunbelt, both the leather pouches and engraved Model 29 revolver it holstered were still a bit too fancy. Exorcists were afforded some room for personal preference, hopefully.

All the same, the apprentice turned her unmodified key in a closet door and stepped into some quiet classroom, half the world away. The subject matter of a stray document left on a lecture bench confirmed that this was some flavor of True Cross-- and Japanese, oddly enough. At least she'd visited Gavin in Tokyo enough times to get the language down.

What in the world is Fang doing at a school?

The young woman is heading out into the hall to find a storeroom.

Grab a box. Walk with purpose. Play dumb.

[hriobzagelthewanderer]

There is a divide, you think, between support and action.

It has been many months since you last felt the call, since you felt the familiar tug of need, of purpose. For better or worse, at least on the level you operate on, the World-Spirit has seen fit not to draft you once more into service more directly, leaving you to simply, be.

For the first several weeks, you embraced it, appreciated it, accepted it for the opportunity it was to recover, refresh, restore yourself.

...in the many weeks since, that appreciation has quickly, if quietly, tapered off.

Your familiar, your friend, your eternal minder waddles in, and with a soft smile that only reaches your lips you kneel down to pat his furry little head and tell the dog you did not forget. He huffs and stares back, and even if you two were not bound as deeply as you are you would be incapable of misreading the bitterly familiar combination of sass and worry in the Valhund's gaze as he shakes his head and wanders off.

Your mind once again wanders, wondering when next your instincts would drive you to seek out someone, something, the next task for yourself to approach and catalyze into something new, better, or at least different.

Amusing, you reflect, that for all my work, it most often feels as though it defines you more than you define it - that you are being shaped into a role more than a role is being made for you...

You wonder if you ought to be more worried about that.

No matter, you attempt to reassure yourself, At least in this I am still needed.

Standing up slowly, you try to remember where last you left the poor dog's leash. Just because he does not need it, does not mean its presence does not help reinforce the exercise, or reassure him of the surety of his enrichment.

[grumpy-limsan-customs-cat]

#19 - Weal

"St---that eno--That's enough old man!"

The little Xaela growled and squirmed in the older man's arms, but his protests were for naught. If anything, it only made the Elder's snickering grow into a fit of laughter, the large hands rubbing over his charge's face until both bruises and healthy skin alike were covered in gooey, green layer of ointment.

"Never enough! This is your punishment! Retribution for picking a fight with someone twice your size!"

Elder Kroin's voice boomed behind his laughter, the youth's face finally firmly cupped between the two calloused, goo-covered hands. All the glee was suddenly cut from the sharp, scaled features, leaving only a stern stare behind.

"Love. Why would you do something so stupid, hm?"

Luvshan grimaced from the nickname, but didn't retort, his pride shrinking under the authority.

"…He…he said my parents were weak."

"Ooh! And what if they were?"

That pride soon returned, a scalding glare shot towards the older Xaela.

"They were not weak!"

"But what if they were?"

"They were not!"

"How do you know?"

"I just do! Y' know nothin'! Stupid old man!"

The quick retorts roused a snort from the elder, his mask of seriousness quickly breaking apart. Instead he rolled his eyes with a deep, theatrical sigh, practically pushing the child free from his grasp.

"Ahh! Youths!"

He exclaimed, his palm landing onto Luvshan's head instead, smearing the shade of green onto his bright orange locks for good measure.

"One…does not need to be strong…to be strong!"

He could only beam a grin at the fellow Xaela's dumbfounded expression, free hand shot forwards with a energetic thumbs-up.

"Old man wisdom, free of charge! You will get it one day."

((Elder Kroin belongs to @eggplant-xaela !))

[scumbag-the-hedgehog]

One time when I was little, I mean real fucking little, my mom was having over these important guests from Albion. Some fucking bigwigs, who cares about the specifics. The point is, normally my mom, she never stepped foot in the kitchen. She hired people to handle that shit. But she didn't trust anyone else to handle this one recipe. Family specialty on her side or something. Devil's Food Cake.

Now, I was so excited. My mom? Never baked me a cake in my life, not even for my birthday. I was psyched out of my tiny little fucking mind. I tried watching her bake it in the kitchen, but the maid, (don't remember her name, they changed out every six months), she'd always shoo me away, tell me not to bother Ms. Hedgehog. When that thing came out of the oven, MAN, I had never smelled anything so good in my entire life. I'd had, yknow, chocolate bars and stuff, but this was a whole 'nother world man.

I was trying to get in that kitchen while it was cooling, no dice. Same thing when she was icing it, the maid or a server would always run interception. Fucking pricks. But they couldn't keep that up forever. Eventually they had to switch to focusing on the guests, boozin' 'em up real nice and all that. So they're convinced I'm upstairs in my room, and of course I do what any fucking kid would do in that situation. I sneak down and I try and grab a slice. I get this big kitchen knife and I carve out a hunk of cake. Just completely sloppy, like some psycho chopping up a body. So I got my slice and I dig in and holy shit. Greatest thing I had ever tasted up to that point. Probably one of the top things I've ever tasted, though of course being a kid and all, your brain's all stupid, might've just been a regular fucking cake. But god damn I can taste it just thinking about it. And then I'm about to have that second bite when my mom walks in. Ol' Bernie, she looks at my stupid little chocolate smeared face, she looks at that butchered cake, she flips the fuck out. Starts laying into me. Says I'm a monster, a savage little animal. Even asks why my dad ever said they should have a kid. She gets so pissed she tells the maid to lock me in my room for the night. Man I fucking bawled my eyes out over that. Don't think my mom talked to me again for... weeks? Definitely a month. Or two. You know, actually, thinking back on it. I'm not sure I can remember anything she ever said to me before that.

Good cake, though.

[lookthedevilintheeye]

One Evening in Calcutta, Summer 1726...

“... Uncle Joshua, I have something I’ve been meaning to ask of you.”

“Oho? What’s on your mind, Little Bran? You can always ask me anything.”

“Cripes, you haven’t called me that since before the Old Man died. ... anyway, actually, it’s about him. The Old Man, I mean - about my father. There is something I’ve realized I’ve never quite known about him, something that the more I try to think about, the less I actually can imagine a satisfactory assumption.”

“Really now? And what would that be, then?”

“.... The Eye. .... The legends say variously that it can grant the wishes of any who possess it. Or give them the power to make whatever they wish for come true. .... so what was it? What was HIS wish?”

“.... Hehe. You surprise me sometimes, Little Bran. I never would have expected you to muse on the motives of others. You’ve grown up a lot since we parted ways. ... anyway. My brother’s wish, the reason he spent a decade searching for that damned thing which cost him his life...”

....

“I honestly don’t know. Well, no. I know what he told me. What we told each other, when we agreed to search for the Eye to begin with. That we’d be richer than rich, more secure than all the Kings of Europe combined! Ours and our kin would want for nothing for the rest of time. But... looking back, I know that wasn’t really why I wanted to find the Eye. It’s what I told myself, but deep down, it wasn’t the whole truth. So I can’t imagine that being Mortimer’s true wish either.”

“Mmmm. .... so then what was it? What was it you really wished for if not the fame and fortune of it all?”

“.... Honestly, I don’t think I even had one. I just wanted to do it, because Mort wanted to do it. That’s just how we did things. Whatever one wanted, the other supported wholly. It’s why we joined the Navy. It’s why we left the damn Navy. It’s why we became privateers. It’s why we adopted you. You handed me that Eye now, right here, and there’s only one thing I can really think of wishing for on it these days.”

“.... and? What? What is it?”

“.... to have him back. Even just for a day. Even just to catch up on things. I’d love for nothing more than to share my current contentedness with my brother. Not a day’s gone by since we lost him that I don’t miss his glum, gloomy glowering. Ha ha ha....”

[sakuraandscales]

Species File #1: Ratheus Regalus

"Test...test... this thing working? Okay good, um... I figured I should record my findings of the fossil record, there is....a lot more here than I learned of when we still had a school and uh...I've found evidence of this particular species both here in the Acorn Kingdom and in the subterranean levels of Angel Island during my visits to the sole remaining echidna left on our planet.

I digress... the following are my current findings and educated theories on the subjects that I have come to learn are called Raths from translated echidna murals. The following recording is solely for the most common species: Ratheus Regalus or the Common Rath."

This species exhibits extreme gender dimorphism, that is to say that one would be forgiven for assuming the male and female subjects of the common rath to be two entirely separate species. The female subjects, designated Rathian by echidna texts, are well suited for ground combat. While the males, designated Rathalos, have adaptations best used for a predator which is frequently airborne. Rathian have wider, sturdier feet with short blunt claws ideal for galloping across the land at high speeds. Rathalos however have longer sharper talons capable of grabbing prey or slashing at it while airborne. Yet, Rathalos also possess a unique joint in their feet that retracts their longer digits for slightly more comfortable movement when grounded.

Murals found in ruins depict both as being able to breathe fire, and indeed I have found trace amounts of flammable compounds in their teeth. This suggests the ability to produce a substance that ignites when it comes into contact with the air yet the fossils themselves hold no damage from such flame. Perhaps there is a secret to their flame resistance in the body of the common Rath that fossils alone cannot tell me...

Even more curious is the Rathian fossils I have found also contain smaller barb like structures along the shoulders and tail. The smaller hairlike barbs did not fossilize well but I have found skin impressions for the smaller barbs on the shoulders. The harder bone made barbs along the tail however allow me a better look. Their hollow interior suggests the presence of a substance to be injected through them. Either a blood thinning agent or perhaps venom are my current guesses. These barbs appear to be the Rathian's main source of weaponry, swinging her tail around in order to bludgeon and perhaps poison her prey. The barbs across her shoulders appear to be there for defense....deterring any would be attacks from above while she is land bound. If I could find a nest perhaps more light would be shed on a Rathian's behavior, I assume she is land bound for the sake of her hatchlings but...I would need younger specimens to find out if my theory is correct.

The male subjects are similar to their female counterparts in that they too possess signs of having adaptations to take down their prey or rivals quickly. Rathalos lack the barbs that Rathian exhibit but instead there appears to be a very thin hollow chamber within their claws barely wider than a sewing needle. I am reminded of a non-Mobian platypus' spurs in their structure. Again, my mind goes towards the potential of the Raths having venom. In the Rathalos's case the toxin is delivered through the talons, a perfect adaptation for an airborne predator. The potential of toxins on top of their flames may sound like overkill...but I assure you, dear listener, that these are rather tame adaptations compared to other subjects in my storehouse.

The easiest way to tell the difference between skeletons is to look at the tail or the jawbone. The Rathian has a long hollow spine on the front of her jaw, the purpose for this I have yet to learn. But it makes it easy to identify her compared to the Rathalos which has a much shorter spike and hammer like shaped paddles near the joint of the jaw and skull. Their tails however are even more clear, the Rathian will have a smoother, rounder tail covered in hollow barbs. While the Rathalos will have a tail more akin to a spiked mace, the bones and armor there are thick and sturdy. Again...it appears to be a main weapon for this species.

These are my current findings summarized, once I have discovered more I shall make a new recording. But for now I feel I have rambled long enough. Charmette Goldenhive, paleontology research record one (1) end."

[pxrifiedmxniac]

"Well well~ You never told me that you were seeing a special someone~ And who might this fair dame be~?"

"Her name is Weiss. I never told you because my personal affairs are none of your concern."

"Calm yourself, my dear. I was merely asking. By the way, where is she anyway~?"

"If you must know, she's currently dealing with things back at her own home. Slaying monsters and trying to keep the peace there can be a task in of itself."

"Ohoooo~ That does sound like quite the hassle she has to deal with~ And I'm quite impressed that she's capable of doing that all by herself~"

"She's not doing this by herself. She has a team helping her as well."

"Well, good to know she's not alone in such a tasking endeavor. And let me ask, how long ago was this~?"

"Ya see, I know what you're gettin' at. You're trying to mess with me by saying that something might've happened to her during all that time she's been away. Like she got hurt or worse. Well, believe you and me, I know she's out there and I know she's doing alright and I know she's in good hands. So, don't try any of this silver-tongued bullshit of yours on me, pal!"

"Now now, that's not what I'm getting at. I'm sure a capable fighter such as her is doing quite well over there. I'm not denying that. But.. maybe, just maybe, there is the chance that she may have... moved on~?"

"And I know that wouldn't happen either. You don't know the kind of relationship she and I have. So, don't plant any of this into my head just for your own sick, twisted game! This conversation is over, Alastor! And I don't wanna hear another word from you about her, got it!? "

"Temper temper, my dear~ I understand plenty. No need to address such a touchy topic."

"But it could be rather... e̸n̶t̴e̶r̷t̷a̸i̶n̷i̵n̶g̷~"

[suiana]

yandere! ice skater and first time skater reader. gang this is so gangsta!!! imagine going onto the skating rink for the first time and falling constantly like a little kid 😂😂😂 u even have a helmet and one of those seals 😂😂😂 meanwhile yandere! ice skater (who's also your longtime admirer) is literally an olympic skater that makes doing jumps and axels look easy.

"AURGH-"

"oh dear, shall i help you?"

the ice skater gracefully glides over to you as you fall onto your ass for the fifth time since you fell onto your ass. you came in ten minutes ago.

he meticulously adjusts your position, teaching you the basics while holding onto your hand as he encourages you.

"well done, you're doing great, sweetheart. yes, just like that..."

by the end of your little lesson with him, you could hold yourself up for at least ten minutes!!!! wowzers!!! you thank him gratefully before trying to skate off...

only to realize that he was still holding onto your hand.

"where do you think you're going? i never said our lesson was over, did i?"

?????

[crossed-worlds]

"Nine...what happens to our neuroreceptors when we don't get enough REM sleep?" Perhaps he could logic this kid to bed since he was being stubborn.

Well that gets his attention away from the board. "They lose their sensitivity to serotonin and norepinephrine."

"Which then leads to...?" Huh. This seems to be working...some how.

"Impaired cognitive function...." The cub's ears droop as he knows where this is going and understands why the elder fox is bringing this to his attention.

"Correct." Finally. He's got the kit's attention... and listening ear. "Now march to your quarters, brush your teeth, and go to bed."

".............................But I don't wanna go to bed." And for once Nine sounds like the child he actually is. A soft whine in his throat and everything.

".....I'm gonna count to three."

"One--"

"ALRIGHT." Nine quickly back pedals and dashes out of the room. Not wanting to know what happens if Aeolus gets to 'three'.

[fangoffenrir]

Truth be told, this apocalypse had been more than a little vindicating for Rayna.

The Vatican's secret monster-hunter society, The Knights of True Cross, were having press conferences every few days. The ungrateful papists that excommunicated her grandfather for slaying a possessed cardinal during televised Sunday mass were right there, live-streaming to social media, talking about the demonic threat.

In terms of explicit confirmations, it might've only managed a notch lower than a runaway stumbling across a symbiotically-possessed warlock in the midst of a breakdown, and that invisible heraldic enfield he'd been clutching happily nibbling her arm and inflicting temptaint.

Monsters were real, and Dad was never crazy. Mom finally saw after bringing Kelly home to nibble her, too. Gavin's seeing that now, with the Veil ripped away.

Rayna's estranged warlock-turned-demon mentor visiting while she slept to replace her bracelet with a key that only traveled between university and Mom's house in Scotland had been an unsubtle (and hurtful) way of telling her to sit tight and keep out of things.

She'd caught a thread online, a news clip of an exorcist inserting a similar key into a door, which had prompted her to realize the only bit on the old brass key with any markings had been a brazed-on bridge through the bow.

Fang's clearly still a magpie and always tricking trinkets to do things they shouldn't, but if he was around True Cross to swipe something like this...

"...I'll just snip that addition off, and find some answers."

[astrids-blog333]

To Have and To Hold

Jon Snow x Reader

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Summary: Jon returns from battle, bloodied and victorious. But all you care about is the fact that he came home to you.

Warnings: SMUT 18+ (at the end) ref to canon-typical violence, blood/injuries, mild gore, strong language, ref to war.

A/N: I will forever love Game of Thrones, and I just rewatched it for the millionth time to distract myself from exams 🤭 this doesn't follow the plot specifically, but I imagined season 6 Jon :)

dividers by @cafekitsune

MASTERLIST - REQUESTS (OPEN)

WC: 2.6k

The wind cuts through the open expanse of the North, sharp and cold against your face as you stand above the large gates of Winterfell.

The men of the North have returned.

You can hear the rumble of horses' hooves long before they appear over the ridge, the sound growing louder and louder. The warriors ride in, exhausted but victorious, with cheers from the village ringing out behind them.

The familiar scent of the north fills your lungs, the fresh pine, the earth after rain, and a lingering trace of smoke from the fires burning in every hearth. You look at the soldiers, some of them grinning, others barely able to keep themselves upright.

But all eyes are on Jon. He’s at the front of the group, shoulders broad, head held high. His dark hair is matted with dirt and blood, and his clothes are stained with the gory aftermath of battle.

But to you, he’s perfect. He's your king.

Your husband.

You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, the worry that’s been gnawing at you since he left now turning into relief that he's come home to you unscathed.

You can’t wait another second.

Without thinking, you break into a run, your feet pounding against the stone as you sprint toward him. The villagers part to let you through, some giving you nods of respect.

Jon’s eyes lock with yours in the crowd, his gaze intense, even from a distance. His lips curl into a half-smile as he urges his horse forward. You’re almost there, and in a moment that feels as though it’s been months in the making, he’s dismounting before the horse even comes to a full stop.

He’s there, in front of you, a storm of emotions swirling behind his dark, brooding eyes. You reach him in a heartbeat. Your arms are around his neck, and before he can protest, you feel the heat of his body engulf you. He tries to pull back from you.

“No, love, I’m covered in blood-”

But you don’t listen. You’re already in his arms, his chest hard and solid as he pulls you against him, lifting you off your feet in a tight embrace.

The cheers from the soldiers and villagers fade into nothing as his lips find yours. It’s hungry and desperate, as if the entire world has melted away, leaving only the two of you. His mouth tastes like salt, iron, and something raw. His arms tighten impossibly around you, pulling you closer, as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away from his desperate grasp.

You feel his chest heaving beneath your fingers, his body trembling every so slightly, but there’s no hesitation in his touch. He holds you like he’s never going to let you go.

His lips break away from yours, just for a moment, but you’re still tangled in his embrace, your breath shaky. His forehead presses against yours, and you can hear the weight of his voice as he mutters, “I was worried, you know. I couldn’t stand the thought of you here all alone, and no one being here to protect-”

“I’m fine,” you say, cutting him off, your hands sliding up to cup his face. You smile up at him, feeling the rush of love flood your chest. “You’re back. That’s all that matters.”

Jon holds you even tighter, his hand cupping the back of your head as he buries his face in your hair. The world around you is still roaring with celebration, but in this moment, all you hear is his heartbeat and the sound of your own breath.

“You have no idea how much I missed you,” he whispers, his voice low and hoarse. His words send a shiver through you, and you can feel the weight of everything that has happened settle.

All the brutal battles, all the bloodshed, the distance.

But now he’s home.

You hold him tighter, not caring about the blood or dirt staining your dress. You’ve missed him in ways words can’t express, and all that’s left is the overwhelming need to be close to him, to hold him, to remind each other that the war is over for now.

You don’t pull away from him, your arms still tightly wrapped around his neck, but you can feel the weight of his blood and dirt pressing against you, the remnants of the battle that still cling to him. You can’t wait to get him inside, where you can finally help him relax and tend to his wounds.

Jon pulls back just slightly, his hands still resting on your hips as he looks down at you with a soft smile. His thumb brushes across your cheek, as if checking to see if you’re truly real, as if this moment is just as overwhelming for him as it is for you.

He seems to notice the way your eyes scan him, analysing the cuts littering his body.

“I’m fine,” whispers, his tone soft but still with that familiar stubborn edge. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

You give him a look, a silent challenge to let you help, and Jon simply chuckles, his shoulders sagging slightly as he lets out a long breath.

Inside the warmth of your chambers, the two of you are finally together, alone.

You move toward the bathing area, prepared to clean him, tend to him. Jon doesn’t protest. He stands, his broad frame slightly slumped, and begins to undress slowly. His movements are tired, but there’s a quiet strength in them. You can see the exhaustion in his eyes, the lingering pain from the battle.

This is the moment where you can care for him, take away the stress, even if just for a little while.

He steps into the water, sighing as the warmth envelops him. You kneel beside the tub, reaching for the cloth. The water swirls around him, dark with the blood and dirt he’s carried back from the battlefield.

You step closer, a cloth in your hand, your presence drawing his gaze. His eyes soften as you approach, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Didn’t think I’d get a personal healer today,” he murmurs, his voice low but teasing. “I’m used to the battlefields, not the bath.”

You smile back, dipping the cloth into the warm water. “Well, today’s your lucky day.” Your fingers brush against his shoulder as you gently begin cleaning the blood and grime from his skin, the warmth of the water combined with your touch allowing Jon to finally relax.

Jon’s gaze never leaves you as you tend to him. His chest rises and falls with each breath, and you can see the exhaustion in his eyes, but also the trust. His hand reaches up to run through his wet hair, pushing it away from his forehead. The tension in his body slowly melting away.

“You always know how to make me feel better,” he says quietly, his voice soft, adoring.

You chuckle lightly, dipping the cloth into the water again and pressing it gently against his side, where a fresh wound is healing. “That’s what I’m here for.”

But there’s something in the way his eyes watch you that makes this moment feel different, more intimate than usual. His fingers brush over your arm, light, like he’s just feeling the softness of your skin, but it’s enough to send a small spark through you.

“Do you need to be so gentle?” he asks, his voice teasing but with a hint of something else in it, like he’s testing the boundaries. “I’m tougher than I look, you know.”

You glance up at him, catching the glint of amusement in his eyes. “I’m not worried about you,” you reply, rising to his bait. “I just like taking care of you.”

His lips curl into a smile, and he leans back, clearly at ease, letting you work. “I’m starting to think you like it a little too much.”

You raise an eyebrow, not missing the playful tone in his voice. “Maybe I do,” you smirk, the smile on your lips matching his. “But you deserve it.”

You move down his body slowly, checking over his wounds, making sure each one is clean and free of dirt. As your fingers graze over his skin, you notice his attention shifting. He’s watching you more closely now, the mood subtly shifting as his gaze moves from your hands to your face.

There’s a quiet pause before he speaks again. “You’re always so focused when you care for me. It’s... comforting.” His voice drops.

You meet his gaze, not backing down, but instead letting your hand trail along his arm as you finish cleaning the last of the blood from his side. "Like I said, I want to make sure you're alright."

Jon leans in slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m more than alright with you here.”

The room falls into silence, the only sound being the gentle splash of water as you shift and move around him. You finish cleaning his wounds, your hands lingering just a little longer than necessary on his skin. He’s close now, his body warm against yours.

With a final look over his chest, you step back, letting him relax into the water.

“All done.”

Jon leans back again against the stone side of the tub, his eyes still focused on you. There’s a moment where neither of you speaks, just enjoying the quiet. Jon’s hand reaches up, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering just a little longer than necessary.

Finally, Jon stands from the bath, his muscles glistening with water. He reaches for a towel, but before he wraps it around himself, he turns toward you.

“You’re right, you know,” he says quietly, his voice laced with both affection and something deeper. “I’ve fought battles, but this... this is different. You make everything easier.”

You don’t say anything at first; you just watch him, and your heart is swelling for the man standing in front of you. You move to help him dry off, your hands slow.

But Jon isn’t finished yet. He steps closer to you, his body warm and solid against yours as he cups your face gently in his hands, bringing you in for a soft kiss.

His lips are so soft, and you feel his hands move from your face to your waist, pulling you toward him until your bodies are flush against each other.

For a moment, you both simply stand there, caught in the kiss. His lips are a little desperate now, pressing against yours harder, deeper, he can’t get enough. His hands slip lower, sliding around your waist, and before you can even react, he lifts you off your feet. You gasp into the kiss, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you across the room.

You cling to him, your heart racing, as he walks toward the bed, never breaking the kiss. His hands feel like fire on your skin, his body solid and strong against you.

You’re completely at his mercy, and you can feel the desire pumping through you. When he reaches the edge of the bed, he gently sets you down, taking a moment to look at you.

“You’ve no idea how much I’ve waited for this,” he mutters, voice thick and rough.

You reach for him, pulling him closer, unable to wait any longer. "Show me," you whisper back, your hands sliding down his chest, feeling every inch of him.

And without another word, Jon closes the space between you.

As you lie back on the bed, Jon hovers over you, his dark eyes heavy with desire, his fingertips grazing your skin. His breath is shallow, his chest rising and falling with the anticipation.

“You’ve no idea what you do to me,” he growls, his lips trailing down your neck, the warmth of his breath sending shivers across your skin. He finds the sensitive spot just beneath your ear, and you can't help but let out a soft moan, the sound barely escaping you.

Jon pauses, lifting his head to look at you, his gaze heated, focused entirely on you. His hand moves slowly, possessively, from your waist up to your breast, brushing against the fabric of your dress before pushing it aside. He groans softly at the sight of your skin, his mouth trailing down to your chest, kissing the exposed area before his hands start to move lower.

“Jon,” you whisper. You reach for him, but he stops you with a gentle hand, pressing your palm against the bed.

“Patience, love,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough. “I’ve waited far too long to rush this.”

Your heart races as his lips return to yours, his hands sliding down to your hips, pulling your body even closer to his. The heat between you both is unbearable, every inch of your skin aching for him.

Jon’s lips trail lower, his hands finding the lower hem of your dress. He pauses, looking up at you one more time, his gaze soft but filled with hunger.

“Are you sure?”

You nod, pulling him closer, not able to wait any longer. “Of course I’m sure.”

Without another word, Jon pulls the rest of your dress off, his eyes drinking you in as he undresses you. The moment he’s fully exposed you, his lips find yours again, hungry and wild. He presses his body against yours, his warmth enveloping you as he pushes you further up the bed.

As he first thrusts into you, you feel your body shudder in response. A sharp gasp escapes your lips, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he stretches you, filling you completely.

The initial ache melts into something deeper, something that sends heat curling low in your stomach. Each of his movements is deliberate, slow, drawing out the sensation, the heat building between you both until it feels like there’s no distance left between you.

Jon’s face is pressed against the crook of your neck, his breathing laboured as he continues to move against you. His hands grip the sheets beside you, and you can feel the tension in his body, the way he holds back, controlling the pace.

But as your moans get louder, his control slowly slips away.

He picks up the pace, his thrusts growing faster, harder, until everything blurs into a haze of sensation. You meet him with equal fervor, wrapping your legs around him, pulling him deeper, wanting more, needing more.

When the climax hits, it’s like a wave crashing over you both.

It's sudden, powerful, and all-consuming. Your body trembles beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he moves against you, his name escaping your lips in a breathless gasp. Jon follows soon after, his grip on you tightening as he buries his face in your neck.

For a moment, there’s only silence, the two of you wrapped in each other’s arms, recovering from the intensity of what just happened. Jon presses a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath still shaky as he pulls you closer.

“I love you,” he whispers.

You smile, kissing him softly. “I love you too, Jon.”

[grumpy-limsan-customs-cat]

#11 - Once Bitten, Twice Shy

When - oh when, would his heart finally learn?

How many times did it have to hope, only to end up disappointed?

How many times did it have to pine, yearn, and break, before it would give up trying?

How many times would it take before it would finally grow tired and numb?

Apparently one more.

One more time.

One more season of yearning.

One more disappointment.

One more heartbreak.

Perhaps this time - this time, his heart would finally learn its lesson.

Perhaps this time he would be finally free.

All he had to do was to wait for the inevitable.

[scumbag-the-hedgehog]

My dad drank. A lot. Now I can tell what you're about to ask next: oH, sCoUrGe DiD hE hIt Ya?

No, you fucking dumbass. He wouldn't even have the balls if he wanted to. Besides, that would have required acknowledging I was there.

He'd just get plastered on his lonesome. Usually he passed out, but sometimes he'd rant and I'd get to hear it. Sometimes about his job, sometimes about his marriage. Only time he ever talked about me outside of cocktail parties.

Apparently they had me for career reasons. Made him seem like a proper family man to the overlanders instead of some jumped-up forest animal.

Heh. That sure bit him in the ass.

[nenlio]

Against All Odds BoyFail Danny Scores a Dilf

> DP x DC #0.2 - Copper Ice <

one again shout out to @chekhovs-slinky for the og prompt

As Danny and Sam entered their shared home the sounds of a action movie reached them signaling the location of their housemate.

"Were home!!!" Sam yelled into the house.

"In the cinema room!!"

They strolled further in until they reached their friend, Tucker was sat on the sofa leaving a gap that Danny flopped himself on to, groaning in embarrassment at his actions from earlier. Patting his back Tucker winced at Dannys behavior "Woah whats up with you dude? Did you mess up or something? I thought you left the shy guy act in your twenties?"

Sams laugh caught Tuckers attention " Oh he did something alright. Get this, I come up to Danny to ask him for my keys and hes totally zoned out! I finally get his attention and he tells me he thinks he has a chance to get a date with the guy hes looking at. Now, who do you think he was talking about?"

"Based on Dannys reaction I'd say Bruce Wayne?" At Tuckers reply Sam makes an X motion over her chest "EH wrong, Danny-boy over here went after Alfred Pennyworth, As in the guy that raised Bruce Wayne, As in the guy Bruces children consider their grandfather, As in the guy who is 35 years older than Danny!!"

"NO WAY WHAT" Tucker looked down at Danny on his lap and started shaking him "DANNY STOP BEING PATHETIC AND TELL ME EVERYTHING"

"Danny cant answer the phone hes dead" came Dannys muffled reply. Tucker rolled his eyes and turned back to Sam, "so what did Alfred say?"

Sitting down Sam started to, dramatically in Dannys humble opinion, regale Tucker with their evening story," im not even joking Tuck he looked like Alfred was the Cinderella to his Prince Charming with the way he ran after him. Me and Brucie looked so lost and we had to have awkward small talk about the charity until Danny came back."

At this point the force of Tuckers laughter was making him a very uncomfortable pillow so Danny rolled over to glare at him. "Danny, dude, you gotta admit its hilarious how desperate you must have looked in front of Wayne. You probably don't even know where your taking Alfred on a date do you." Dannys groan of embarrassment was answer enough for Tucker to lose it once more.

"Don't worry Danny well come up with a plan for you to woo your beau" Sam soothed as she patted his back, Danny simply groaned out of embarrassment. He had the worst friends.

The batcave was a flurry of voices all asking Alfred questions, the man in question simply arching a brow at their unruly behavior.

"Alfred are you really going on a date with that guy?! We don't even know anything about him!!" Dick was seemingly the most distraught at the news, his grandfather?? Dating?

Oracles voice crackled as she spoke through the caves speakers " His name is Danyal Danny Nightingale, 36 years old, he is the co-owner and eventual heir to DalvCo. He has a relatively clean record aside from some speeding and arrests for unruly protests."

Alfred simply sighed in response, "Master Dick, Ms. Barbara, while I understand your worry that is no reason to invade our guests privacy. And yes Master Dick I will be going on a date with Mr. Nightingale, his efforts to pursue me are commendable, and I will be giving him a chance even if it isn't earnest on my behalf."

"So youre just going along with his whims? 'tt' I expected more from you Pennyworth" Damian didn't show it outwardly but he was excited for Alfreds date. He had immediately recognized Nightingale during the gala, not because of his business, but because he was the person to bring back the purple backed gorillas from extinction. Damian had been 6 years old when he first saw a magazine featuring Daniel Nightingale. He had devoured the every word written about Daniel and it sparked the beginning of Damians infatuation with animal conservation beyond that of his families ideas.

Now seeing the opportunity to meet his role model face to face, and possibly even being related to him (if Alfred's account of Nightingale wanting to court with the intent of marriage was correct.) Damian knew what had to be done.

Damian was going to become Gothams cupid and make sure his Grandfather and role model got together.

Laying back on Tuckers legs, Danny tensed as he felt another sneeze attack coming on, halting all conversation.

ACHOO "Bless you" " Bless you" "Thanks, ugh who decided that speaking my name would cause me to sneeze"

Sam rolled her eyes at Dannys whining. "At least you dont get the calling to be summoned like with your royal title" Danny glared at Sam "gee thanks for being so compassionate, Ill be sure to sneeze on you next time"

"I wonder who's talking about me though"