#My ideas fled my brain and here we are

[brainfilehasstoppedworking]

TW: Slurs and mentioned/implied transphobia

Just some transfem Takaaki angst

《~~~~~~》

Takaaki wiped away whatever tears had fallen from her eyes. They weren't so bad. But my did she look roughed up. They were worse on most occasions. Today was a little rough up, a few punches and kicks and that was it. Some hair pulling, too. At least they didn't try to cut it back to its original look this time. It took her a while to grow her hair back to what she had it as.

She didn't like the less feminine look she had on for those months. She didn't even bother to shave for that time. She hated it.

After drying up whatever tears she had, she looked back into the mirror and sighed. She locked the door to the men's restrooms so nobody would get in. They'd all just bother her again. And it wasn't like she could retreat to the women's restrooms, she'd get weird looks. She was once redirected to the men's and she just stuck with going in there.

This didn't feel right.

She…she was a woman. Not a man.

She was a woman…

She combed whatever strands needed fixing. Bits of hair had been removed, but it's fine. Nobody will notice if she just fixed it a bit. It'll grow back anyways. After she was done combing her hair, she opened a small bag that held make-up in it.

She looked back into the mirror, trying to find a reason to smile, make herself feel better. But she didn't. She didn't smile. And when she tried, it was only filled with the sadness she felt in her heart. It wasn't like she didn't know that she would get harassed for this. No, she was aware. Especially with how Japan was…

But it still hurt.

It hurt all too much.

"There we go. Okay, Aki…let's…let's hide that ugly bruise." Takaaki choked out as she held back her tears again. After preping her face for the concealer, she held up the brush and started applying said concealer. She could only hope it would actually conceal something. She was still new to this make-up thing so she didn't know how much to apply.

She could only hope for the best.

Staring at herself in the mirror was painful. Seeing how big her black eye was. It was a deep bluish-purple. She had other bruising around her body and face, but this one was worse.

It looked awful.

If only she were born an actual woman. Then she wouldn't be this roughed up. Even prior to transitioning, she wasn't treated well in her job. She didn't remember the last time everyone at the station was nice to her when she was…him.

She'd go home with bruising or more serious injuries, but she'd put up a front for Kiyotaka. Saying that it was just some criminal who was a little too aggressive that day. She was more worried about Kiyotaka's own bruises to care for her's. She didn't mind her own pain, she could handle it. She always had.

Takaaki took a bit more concealer on her brush and continued to lightly dab and swipe the liquid on her face. She could only hear the awful things she'd been told in her head.

Faggot.

Tranny. Tranny. Tranny.

Hm. They seemed to like that word, she thought to herself.

They had said to her that she'll never be a woman. That she was always going to be a man. She could remember them mentioning how disappointed Kiyotaka probably was to see his father be this "disgusting" creature. She just ignored them.

"Ah. There we go, much better! No more ugly bruises…" Takaaki sighed. She forced a smile on her face as she kept in her it'll smear the make-up. Which reminded her. She took out her eyeshadow palette and grabbed another brush. She lightly applied some of the eyeshadow and packed everything back into the bag.

The forced smile mocked her in the mirror. But all she needed to do was just conceal her face and everything would be okay.

She was a woman.

Why couldn't they see that?

[talaok]

A little favor

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem! reader

summary: You fucked up a trade and want to make it up to Joel

warnings: smut | dub-con, oral sex (m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, virginity loss, daddy kink, a touch of dacryphilia, dumbification, and a bit self insert

"I'm sorry" you sobbed "I'm so sorry Joel, I swear I didn't see them and when I did it was too late and- and I'm sorry I didn't run in sooner" you were out of breath "I'm so sorry"

Your face was drenched with your own tears, even the sleeves of your shirt were in similar shape.

You had fucked up

Once again, one might add, but that's not the point.

You were supposed to keep guard as he traded some things, you didn't really know what, he never told you what, or anything really.

He just brought you with him and stuck you outside to look out for FEDRA people.

That's how it had been for the past month,

And this time,

it went wrong.

The FEDRA people had in fact come, and you hadn't noticed them until they were practically in front of you.

It was a miracle you had gotten out of there alive

as for the other guy, the guy Joel was trading with... well, he hadn't been so lucky.

And so now here you were, sobbing on his - your- bed, because you had made a mess again, and he had to clean it up.

"I'm sorry"

God, did you never get tired of saying that?

"y/n" his deep voice interrupted your sobs

You looked up at him, or at what you could make out of him from the glassy fog your eyes had become.

"It's fine sweetheart" he raised your chin, settling in front of you.

Another tear escaped your eyes, and you sniffled

"but-" you bit your trembling lip "I was stupid- I was- I was inattentive"

"you should be mad" your voice cracked

But you knew he never did, get mad, and if he did, he certainly didn't let you see it.

You had no idea why, or how, all the men in your life before him (which were just two, your father and your ex-boyfriend) would get mad at the littlest thing, from you spilling some water on the precious - worthless-coffee table to you not understanding something as quickly as they wanted you to.

You weren't the smartest of the bunch, never were.

"at least she's pretty"

that's what everyone always said,

at least she's pretty,

at least she's not gonna realize you're insulting her even when you do it right in front of her, she's not gonna be an engineer but at least she's gonna find a man to take care of her.

"men don't like it when women are smarter than them anyway"

Every single phrase, every word was engraved in your brain,

in your tiny little brain, a mantra you repeated over and over, until inevitably, it became the truth.

It still amazed you how diffrent he was though,

You expected it, at this point, to be called stupid and worthless for the tinies mistake, but he had never as much as raised his voice.

He had never called you names,

he had never laughed at you, or made fun of you, or treated you like you were used to, like you were supposed to.

"I'm not mad"

"why?"

"it was a mistake" he shrugged "it happens"

"it happens a lot to me tough"

"well that's fine" his voice was warm "everyone's diffrent"

You still couldn't wrap your head around it "why are you so nice to me?"

He smiled "I like you"

"b-but I'm-" you avoided his glare "I'm-" you didn't even know how to say it,

how to describe how useless you actually were

"Baby it's fine" his thumb stoaked your cheek.

"what about the cargo?" you asked, raising your head again

"We lost it"

"I'm so sorry" another sob "it's my fault"

The room fell silent

"Can I do anything?"

You saw something happen behind his eyes

"really" you urged " Is there anything I can do to make up for it?"

"I can look for other contraband" you suggested even though both of you knew you had no absolute idea where to look for it "I can-" you were already out of ideas "I can cook dinner"

God that was stupid

He smiled and you wanted nothing more than to be invisible.

"Please tell me what I can do" other tears fled your eyes

"Please daddy"

Shit

You instinctively covered your mouth

You didn't mean to, it had just come out.

You were scared to look up at him, to see the amused grin he would have on his face as he made fun of you in his mind,

but as you wiped the tears off your face, glancing up at him, the only thing you did see, were his eyes darker than you'd ever seen them before.

"I'm sorry" you whispered "I didn't mean to-"

"don't apologize"

"b-but-"

"There is something you could do" his thumb was tracing your jawline as your eyes sparked with excitement

"Really?"

His lips twitched into a grin

"What?"

"well" he was looking at you differently than before "you could do me a little favor"

"anything" you immediately answered, making him chuckle.

"it's more of a personal one" he explained, moving some hair out of your face "more... physical"

You frowned, confused, and he took one of your hands to slowly place it on his crotch.

Oh

"I've never- I've never done that before"

"I can teach you"

You looked up at him, your big eyes hiding under your lashes.

You really wanted to make up for your mistake.

"ok" you murmured

"good girl" he said, as a strange heat pooled between your legs "undo my belt" he ordered, and you looked at him hesitantly before obliging, your nervous fingers fumbling with the buckle for a moment before you were able to undo it.

You looked up at him for approval and he only nodded, urging you to keep going.

So you did, you undid his zipper and slowly pulled his pants down.

Something hard was straining against his boxers, you could see the tent that had formed.

"Don't be scared sweetheart" he reassured you, and you gulped as you timidly pulled his underwear down.

Oh wow

It was big,

not that you had any means of comparison but it definitely looked big.

He must have noticed your eyes widening because he said "don't worry baby, I'll go slow"

You nodded, hesitantly taking it in your hands

"w-what do I do?" you asked, looking up at him, and you felt his member twitch in your palms.

"oh baby you're so precious" he groaned, and you genuinely didn't know if it was a compliment or not.

"you just have to open your mouth,"

You did it

"just like that baby, perfect" he praised

"and put it in"

You looked at his threatening dick and then at him, fear clear in your iris.

How was all that gonna fit?

"It's gonna fit" he read your mind "don't you trust me?"

You did.

You trusted him more than anyone.

And so you did it, you widened your mouth even more, and took him in, looking at him questioningly once your lips were wrapped on not even half of his shaft.

He groaned nonetheless "that's good baby, you can move now"

You did, you started experimentally bobbing your head up and down, and according to his heavy breathing, you seemed to be doing a fairly good job.

"hollow your cheeks for me baby"

You obeyed and were rewarded with a loud groan

You looked up at him, your eyes evidently asking -is this good?-

“That’s good” he breathed, his hand going to the back of your head “that’s good baby, keep going”

The room filled with a lewd noise as your lips and chin soaked with saliva.

You forced yourself to take more of him in, but your jaw was begging you to stop.

You tried to lean away but his hand didn’t let you.

“Go deeper baby”

You peeked at him worryingly

“You can do it, sweetheart”

“Don’t you wanna make it up to daddy?”

You hummed in agreement around his cock,

of course you did.

"then be good and choke on it"

you could feel your heart beating in your ears, but you ignored it as you did what he said, taking all of him in, until his tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag softly.

A tear fled your eye, but this time it wasn't because of an emotion, it wasn't fear or patheticness, no, it was just reflexes, and for once, you liked it.

"that's it" he breathed "that's my good girl" he said, and you found yourself involuntarily rubbing your thighs together, desperate for some friction.

"fuck- that's it baby" he hissed as you kept moving your head, careful of every movement "that's it- keep going"

" 'knew you could take all of me baby" his fingers grazed your chin, as his eyes somehow darkened some more "do you think you could take daddy inside of you?"

His hand left your head and you leaned away

"inside?"

wasn't this already inside?

He seemed pretty inside to you.

"yes baby inside"

he leaned down to get closer to your face.

His fingers found your bare thighs, and danced until they were at the hem of your skirt

"do you think you could take me in your pretty pussy?" he explained better, and your mouth gaped open in surprise,

the real surprise was that your jaw was still able to do that after all that work.

"but-"

"be a good girl for daddy" you felt his digits get under your skirt as he breathed against your mouth "it's just a small favor"

"I've never-"

"I know baby" he pushed you onto the bed "But don't worry, I'll take care of everything" he promised, crawling on top of you "I'll take care of you"

he kissed your neck, a whimper fleeing your mouth "I'll make you feel really good" his quick hands freed you of your shirt and bra before you could even register it, and just after a few moments there went also your skirt and panties.

He hissed as he took you in.

"You've got such a pretty body sweetheart," he said as he kissed it all over "wish I could just stare at it all day" it tickled when he kissed your belly "touch it all day" he murmured against your skin "fuck it all day"

You whimpered as his mouth got inches from when you needed it the most, but he leaned away, taking off his own shirt and stepping out of his pants.

"so pretty" he mumbled as he used your legs to bring you closer to the edge of the bed.

He spit onto your cunt and you hissed, the cold sensation taking you by surprise.

His finger slipped between your folds, coating his digits with your liquids.

He groaned "such a pretty pussy baby"

"here" he drew his finger towards your mouth "taste yourself"

You could feel your cheeks color, but you did it nonetheless, tasting yourself around his finger.

He grinned at the sight "good girl" he hissed as he retracted his finger, and used the hand instead to position his dick at your entrance.

"stay still baby" he grabbed your hip, and you froze.

You could feel his tip graze at your entrance and it both excited you and terrified you.

You shut your eyes, biting your lip, bracing yourself for the inevitable pain.

"no look at me baby" he urged "keep those pretty eyes on me when I'm inside you"

"o-ok" you whispered, and he smiled

"god you're such a good girl" he said, as finally, he pushed himself in, or better, his tip in, and as you felt like a volcano had just erupted inside your body, you winced loudly in pain.

"I know baby" he cooed

no, you don't

You felt a tear travel from the corner of your eyes down to your temple.

He kept going, making you gasp in pain again, your hand gripping the sheets.

"It's-It's too big daddy" you cried out

"no it's not" he didn't give your pleads importance as he kept going, slowly but surely "You can do it, baby"

"I- I can't"

"yes you can" he stated "be a good girl and take it all for daddy"

"b-but it hurts" another tear

"it's gonna feel better after" he promised "trust me"

"daddy" your voice cracked as a sob came through

"come on sweetheart you almost did it"

" 's too much" you cried

"sh- sh- sh" he shushed you wiping some tears off your face " do it for me baby " he said, "you said you wanted to make it up to me"

"I-I do"

"then do" he cocked an eyebrow, and you nodded, sniffling.

"good girl" he praised, as he took your waist and with one harsh move, thrust fully into you.

"see" he admired his cock so deep inside of you "knew you could do it" he smiled at you before retracting his hips, briefly noticing the blood on his dick, and then slamming it back in.

"oh my god" you moaned

"fuck" he grunted " got such a tight pussy baby," he said, developing a rhythm as weak shocks of pain mixed with overwhelming ones of pleasure.

"knew it would be good" he kept talking through labored breaths "just like you sweetheart" he grabbed your hips more harshly as he slammed into you mercilessly now "always so obedient" he purred " so good for me"

"knew you'd take me well"

"knew you'd have such a perfect little pussy"

He bent down and to your surprise, he kissed you, messily and sloppily, but heavenly nonetheless.

"daddy" you whimpered, your back arching against the bed

"It's like it was made for me" he grunted " just designed to have only me in it" he hissed "to be mine"

"is it mine baby?"

"y-yes" you nodded, all the pleasure fogging your brain "it's yours, daddy- all yours"

He kissed you again "and what about you?" he asked, his hips still working like it was his life-long duty to slip you in fucking half "are you mine, sweetheart?"

"yes" you whined

"You're my good girl?" his hand found your clit and you gasped, a breath getting stuck in your throat "you'll do anything I want you to?" he asked, "when I want you to do it?"

"yes daddy-yes"

"that's my girl" he smirked, as you felt a weird pressure form in your stomach.

"so if I tell you that I wanna come inside you're gonna let me right?" he asked breathlessly "because you're my good little girl and I can do anything I want with you?"

"mh-mh" you nodded mindlessly

"that's right baby," he said "I can feel you're coming"

"your pretty walls are squeezing me"

"do you wanna come?"

"yes!" you moaned "yes please daddy "

He crashed his lips with yours "then come all around me sweetheart"

[alessiamalfoyzabini]

𝐇𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐄𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 - 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐧𝐝

Pairing | Yandere Jungkook x Reader

Word Count | 3,146

Warnings | +18, yandere, smut, Stockholm syndrome, body worship. pussy worship, pussy eating, tongue fucking, fingering, breast/nipples worship, explicit language and descriptions, vaginal sex, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, manipulation, obsession, this is not for minors

This fanfiction is yandere, if you don't like the genre, don't read and if you are not of age, don't read.

I don't want to hear any complaints in the comments, thank you.

This does not reflect my way of thinking or living at all, it is just a work of fiction, it is like watching a horror movie, many of us love horror movies, but we would never dream of what we see in those movies happening in reality as well.

Simply put, this story was written for entertainment purposes, it should not be seen as a reflection of my values, opinions or morals. I absolutely do not condone such acts.

⤷ Summary | If she had paid attention earlier to the sin that dwelt behind those obsidian irises, she would never have trusted it.

If she had noticed earlier the devouring love that dwelled in his corrupt heart, she probably would have fled.

She had done none of that, and now she had to come to terms with her new reality.

➢ Author's Note | Hi, guys! Here is the eighth and final chapter of Happy Ending ❤ The idea of publishing the last chapter of this story excites me, I was really pleased to hear that you enjoyed it and there will be surprises coming for you! I have already prepared drabbles for Happy Ending and a spin-off about Jimin, I really hope this will make you happy ❤ Please write to me if you would like to be added to the taglist of the spin-off ❤

And I apologize for the errors that there will be in the chapter, it has been a difficult week 😭❤

Taglist: @katherine-kookie, @douknowbts, @aiiselle90210, @fewercascade , @mageprincess7, @m00njinnie, @get-that-brain-working, @whipwhoops

Chapter List - I - II - III - IV - V - VI - VII - VIII / The End

When Y/N reopened her eyes, it was now past twelve o'clock. She stood up, recognizing Jungkook's bedroom, becoming aware of what had happened a few hours ago, her cheeks blushing at the memory of how she had held him in her mouth until he had fully climaxed, had she been good? Well, she had never given a blowjob in her life, but copying those same videos and drawing from her previous hard readings, she must not have been that bad. She got out of bed, determined to take a shower as well as brush her teeth. Not that she minded the taste of cum, she had already noticed that it didn't bother her from that time on the couch, but it still wasn't a pleasant sensation after hours of good sleep. She washed herself thoroughly, feeling a strange discomfort between her legs, it was like a sense of dissatisfaction pulsing right in the center of her heat, she tried to pleasure herself under the hot water, but the image of Jungkook giving her pleasure on the couch could not drive it away, she swallowed, fully understanding what her body was communicating to her. She wanted Jungkook, only he knew exactly what points to hit and where to reach. She bit her lips undecided whether or not to ask the boy for a little help, got dressed with that doubt in her mind and went to the kitchen, but she did not find him, the boy was not present in the living room either, and she with wide eyes ran to his office.

He was there most of the time and, to her relief, she found him there that time as well, from the open chink she saw the boy hunched over drawings, the tall, powerful figure rekindled that intimate desire, which she found inexplicable. Why on earth did he have that powerful effect on her? She decided to enter at a leisurely pace, stopping just behind him. Obviously with a job like his, over the years Jungkook had learned to sense a person's presence well in advance, which was precisely why he was not surprised to see her there; he turned with a smile. "Are you hungry?" Y/N squeezed into her shoulders, approaching the desk. She looked carefully at the drawings that Jungkook was evaluating, read at the corners of each sheet the name of each of her classmates, tightened her lips and with a nimble, quick gesture tossed that useless block to the side, they were not works of art, there was no love in those lines, Y/N knew this, she always heard her classmates complaining that they could not play during drawing hours, just as she heard them praising Jungkook's beauty, yet discrediting his lessons. "Wasted," they would say, "With that body he would look great as a team coach," they continued.

They did not appreciate Jungkook's work and talent, but she was different, that's why she was his. The boy studied the girl's attitude confusedly, "Is everything okay?" Y/N felt great, she was no longer thinking about her studies or those two who called themselves parents, she was fine. She was fine with Jungkook and only that mattered, every flap of her mind was about the boy in front of her. She longed for him, she wanted him, she loved him. With those thoughts in her mind, she jumped over the desk, positioning herself right in front of Jungkook, who watched with surprise at the girl's actions. She was wearing a low-cut sweater and white shorts that day, leaving the rest of her legs uncovered, legs she swung briskly before smiling. "Yes, I'm hungry," she said, Jungkook nodded, already ready to get up to prepare something for her - he still didn't trust her to put a knife in her hands, Jimin's experience had been shocking enough not to follow suit - but Y/N leaned over to pull the chair, and consequently the boy, closer to the desk. Jungkook tilted his head, then a light bulb went off and he threw himself against the back of the chair, licking his lower lip. "What would you like to eat?" he asked her, playfully.

Y/N shook her head, "In truth I would have another kind of hunger, something that sees you eating me," she clarified bluntly, by now she understood that with Jungkook she would no longer have to mind explicitly requesting far more intimate attention. The latter's fingers closed over the cleavage of her sweater, pulling downward to expose her full, soft breasts, still enclosed in her pearl-colored bra. "And how should I eat you today, sweetheart?" he murmured, leaving a moist kiss on the portion of her breasts that protruded briskly without restraint. Y/N trembled, her intimacy already on fire from mere words. Jungkook went up the column of her neck with soft, sweet kisses, reached the earlobe, which he took between his teeth and nibbled, before pulling and whispering, "Should I be sweet and slow?" with one hand he untangled the bra hooks, immediately crept underneath, cupping one soft breast, the girl trembled, squirming when one of her peaks was teased, "Or does my little girl want something more brutal and fast?" he pressed firmly against the nipple, rubbing his mouth against the tip as it plumped.

Y/N threw back her head, holding onto her elbows, "S-Sweet... and slow, please" she sighed, Jungkook hummed, sucking the tender little button, he broke away slightly to blow hot air on it that made the girl shiver, Jungkook realized how sensitive she was and sadistically pulled the nipple lightly between his teeth, watching ravenously as the girl's fingers tightened between them. "My little girl wants to be treated like a princess," he crooned, "You're right, it's not yet time for you to find out what a whore you can become under my command," he growled and Y/N's intimacy tightened at his words. He undressed her by throwing her sweater to the floor along with her bra, leaving to his own will that divine feast, which he found himself adoring by holding her still by the hips, while with his lips he took to tormenting her other nipple, pushed it against his palate crushing it over and over again, heedless of the fingers that pulled at his silky locks, he breathed in the scent of her skin as he swallowed his own spit, trying not to drool around her sensitive flesh. With his mouth busy pleasantly torturing the young woman's breasts, covering them with kisses and signs of love, he reached down with his hands to unbutton her shorts, Y/N timidly helped him in the task, and soon that garment was slipped off her legs.

Jungkook began to knead through the fabric of her panties the tender folds of her burning pussy, pushed two fingers against her clit, aroused felt the little pearl pulsing under his fingertips, and pulled completely off her chest, biting eagerly at her hips and then lower and lower, getting to where he was really expected, Y/N lay fully on the desk, watching Jungkook's head between her legs with glazed eyes, throwing them back at the boy's first lick, she trembled so much that Jungkook had to spread her legs wider. With her panties now on the floor, Jungkook took care to lick her swollen clitoris again slowly, feeling on his taste buds the flavor of each velvety inch. He found her pussy incredibly soaked, which did not, however, prevent him from spitting between her folds, making the stretch even smoother and wetter for his tongue, which gathered its essence before sucking that throbbing pearl into his mouth, caressing it occasionally with his tongue.

Y/N felt herself lost in a whirlwind of forbidden sensations and overwhelming emotions, she spread her lips wide in search of air, thrusting her pelvis more and more against the boy's voracious mouth, who pushed his tongue deep into her tight, wet slit, touched a particularly sensitive area with the tip that made Y/N stiffen, who moaned louder, speechless. "J-Jungkook, faster, please!" she exclaimed, watching him from her obscenely spread legs, but the boy smiled, before licking her folds once more, focusing occasionally on her increasingly charged and aching clitoris.

"Oh, no... you said sweet..." he left a kiss on the folds, "... and slow..." he finished, lightly penetrating her entrance with a finger, slowly pumping between the moist walls that fluttered and tightened as he passed. Y/N felt like crying; she did not think Jungkook was so sadistic in bed. "Jungkook, don't do this to me," she cried painfully, the boy seemed to think of an answer, continuing to stuff her entrance by adding another finger, which made the stretch more difficult because of the tightness of the young woman. "Will you let me go on?" he observed the distraught figure of the girl, lying on his desk with her head turned upward, nervously biting her lips. Y/N did not understand what he meant at first, then slowly came to it and did not know what to answer. "But...I've never done that," she murmured, hissing at the hot tongue that returned to make her legs tremble, striking the swollen pearl in quick tongue strokes, she squeezed the young man's head between her legs, trying to prolong that pleasurable torture, but Jungkook pulled away.

He longed to be her first and only man, knowing he had a virgin in his hands teased his animal side, which roared with pleasure. "I could introduce you to a pleasure you don't even imagine you can achieve, Y/N," he said seriously, the girl thought about it, "So you want to come like this?" in asking, he sucked violently on her swollen clitoris, encircling it with his tongue lasciviously causing her to scream, "For me it would be no problem, love... but would you allow me to introduce you to something that will unite us inextricably?" the rough, dark voice hit the girl's belly, she felt herself ignite more. The idea of joining him in a more intimate and close way appealed to her, although she harbored much fear about it; she knew it would also be painful. "Will you make me feel good?" she chirped shyly, and Jungkook melted into a smile, nodding. "I will always make you feel good, my beautiful girl." At that point she made her decision, agreed to take that extra step forward, defeating her fear. Jungkook stood up, taking her in his arms with unprecedented ease, Y/N looked at him confused. "The bed I think is more comfortable as the first time," he justified himself, kissing her forehead. He carried her to what would effectively become the bedroom of both of them, laying her in the middle of the mattress, between the sheets that already smelled of them. Together.

Jungkook began to undress, that was the first time the girl saw him completely naked, she wordlessly admired the tattoos that crept around his arm, and then noticed the toned and smooth muscles, his swollen lips thanks to her juices stretched into a sly smile when he also shed his jeans and underwear, showing her once again the perfect shape of his legs and his already taut and swollen cock, although the boy paid no attention to it, watching attractively the girl's soft and more downsized body, which looked like a tender little thing in comparison to him. He climbed on all fours on the bed and crawled toward her before stealing a kiss from her, entwining their tongues and tasting their flavors, Y/N distinguished a spicy note on the man's tongue, which she guessed was just his essence, Jungkook tenderly encircled her by one hip, while with his other hand he went back to teasing her folds, trying to make her relax again. "Look into my eyes, Y/N," he murmured on her lips, the girl did as he told her, losing herself in the night sky of his incredibly sweet irises, "I'll try to go slow, okay? It will only hurt a bit at first," he told her and she nodded, resting her head between his neck and shoulder, focusing on the erotic sensations of the man's fingers in her pleasure center.

Jungkook encircled her clit with his thumb, squeezing it gently before caressing the delicate pearl, retrieved some liquid pleasure from her tight slit in order to spread it over the bundle of nerves, lubricating and softening the delicious rubbing, Y/N moved her hips against the hand, moaning at the pressing pleasure that expanded to the tip of her hair, moments later Jungkook penetrated her entrance, parting her walls in a slow and pleasurable stretch, adding a third finger shortly afterward that made the girl frown. It didn't hurt, but it stung slightly, Jungkook left soft kisses on her neck, trying to distract her. He succeeded, felt her relax, and his fingers gained speed as the girl's moisture increased along with her arousal. Small sounds rhythmically came out of her throat, her eyes closed to focus on the sensation as best she could, not missing the way Jungkook's thumb still rolled slowly over her stiff clitoris. Jungkook reached to touch a slightly more elastic spot, he realized there he had to stop, she was ready enough to take him without too much pain.

He brought his fingers out of her intimacy and Y/N suddenly felt empty. She saw him move away to stand between her legs already wide open for him, the boy observed the girl's slick folds licking his lips, his cock moved involuntarily at the sight and accompanied him between them, sliding easily he touched her clitoris with the moist tip, insisting over and over again on that spot to make the girl tremble once more, she felt the center of her pleasure contract obscenely.

Jungkook finished his little game by pressing himself one last time, when he pulled away a long trail of cum connected the girl's sex to his sensitive cock, hissed pressing against the soggy slit, gently and slowly penetrating it, tenderly enveloped him, and his hips contracted feverishly. Y/N immediately felt the substantial difference between the young man's fingers and his cock, and to say that the boy's fingers were also much longer and thicker than the girl's! When he pushed further, the woman's walls continued to envelop him like a glove, Jungkook had to block himself by gritting his teeth, he could have come there and then without much ado, Y/N for her part felt a strange mix of sensations. She felt pleasantly full, small waves of pleasure also joined the slightly burning stretch that Jungkook left when he resumed moving in small thrusts, he went deeper and she arched reflexively, shocked by the intimacy of the union, she tightened around him moaning, the knowledge that she had him inside her in a way that another woman could only have dreamed of excited her more than anything else and now accustomed to his presence she pushed against his hips, communicating to him that he could go further.

Jungkook took a breath before pulling out to the scarlet tip, then back in again with a vigorous thrust, the girl felt something inside her flake and split, she let out a small scream immediately stifled by the boy's lips, which resumed thrusting without giving her any more time to be able to register the pain, he furrowed the soft and warm walls in the grip of unheard of pleasure, they were so close that Y/N felt the boy's pubes touch hers, a burst of pleasure stronger than the others left her gasping, she broke away from Jungkook's lips to embrace him in despair, pain and pleasure combined to create a strange, bewitching spiral, and the more his cock sinuously penetrated the elastic entrance, cradling the walls with gentle, frenzied thrusts, the more pleasure she felt increased, releasing charged jets that shocked her body. The thrusts increased in speed, Jungkook felt drops of his own sweat slip from his body to join the girl's, he scrutinized her distraught face and found her enchanting in her fucked and desperate state, she was crying and he knew it was not from pain, she was experiencing sensations so unfamiliar that her brain was not yet able to comprehend the extent of them, she was crying because that was her only outlet and Jungkook felt himself tensing painfully at the sight, he changed angles slightly and Y/N widened her eyes.

"Oooooh ... fuck, fuck, fuck!" she exclaimed shamelessly, Jungkook realized with amusement that he had found her most sensitive spot and rotated his pelvis in order to strike that area one more time.

"Yes? Is this where you want me?" he asked not recognizing his own voice, simply repeated the action and the girl nodded vigorously. "Yes! Oh, please... yes, yes..." Y/N went so far as to claw his back to clarify the concept, "Don't stop! Oh God!" He felt her stiffen, squeezing him in a tremendously pleasurable grip that made Jungkook's hips stutter, Y/N felt him all the way to her belly, her walls throbbed violently, and Jungkook took the opportunity to pinch her clit one last time, leaving her to explode in a hard, intense orgasm that left her trembling like a pudding on the bed. The boy continued with his increasingly voracious and direct thrusts, his heavy balls pulsed hitting the girl's buttocks uninterruptedly, this triggered a devastating orgasm in him that made him moan breathlessly, he came inside her flooding her walls, the girl's pussy violently contracted once again, willingly welcoming his cum and his last sloppy thrusts, finally he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily over Y/N, she was still too out of it. "Y/N?" he asked, the girl tried to open her eyes. "Mh?" "I love you," he said with his heart in his throat, in love and kidnapped. Yes, kidnapped. She had kidnapped him and not the other way around. Y/N let go of a lazy smile, "I love you too, Jungkook," she replied, finally fulfilling Jungkook's dream, she touched the boy's face affectionately, "You kept your promise, with you I feel protected and happy," she found herself moved, continuing to caress him. Jungkook kissed her hand gently. "I will destroy anyone who tries to hurt you," he whispered with a serious look that left the girl interjected, "I will stop at no one, my love." Y/N felt a strange chill pervade her, but she mentally shook her head, telling herself there was nothing wrong, smiled at Jungkook and kissed him, dragging him with her between the soft sheets with a giggle. He thought back to the elderly neighbor, to the words of that now distant day, gosh, she was so right. Yes, that was the something new she had been waiting for, the happy ending she had been waiting for her whole miserable life. "I love you."

[katyaromanoffpetrova]

A lifetime of dates (part 3)

After being together for twenty years, Natasha and Katya have been on many dates in their lifetime. In this series, we see one from every part of their lives.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC (Katya Petrova from the Forgotten Ghost series) • Wordcount: 1.8k • Warnings: very angsty!!! • This part takes place a month or two after the events in Infinity War (after Tony gets back on Earth) do not repost my work as your own or translate my work Masterlist

A/N: thank youuuu @milfs69420 for this idea <3

2018

"Meet me on the roof."

Natasha hated herself for perking up with pointless hope when her phone chimed. But she hated herself even more for the way her stomach fell with disappointment when it was just Katya's name flashing across her screen. In fact, she resented herself for it. 

Every night, when Katya cautiously reached for her body in bed, she counted herself incredibly lucky to still have her wife. The odds had always been against them; Katya should not be here right now. But she was, and Natasha struggled to find solace in it. 

Sam, Wanda, Fury, T'Challa, Peter, they were all gone, their names never popping up on her phone anymore. Their absence outweighed Katya's presence by miles, and she couldn't get it to change. The darkness was too powerful, the one single star that represented Katya lost in the vastness. 

The lights in the Compound flickered on as the motion sensors picked Natasha up along her journey to the roof. She could hear the fluorescents in the eerie silence, above the sound of her shoes on the stairs and the soft click as the doors fell into the frame behind her. 

Everything was fully abandoned two weeks ago. Recruits left to find out what remained of their families, and the other Avengers—Steve, Bruce, Tony, Thor, Clint—abandoned their tasks and left the two Russians to fend for themselves, just as the world needed this team the most.

Tony fled to the countryside with Pepper, Steve into the city. Duties to his own people called Thor away, and Clint chose to run away from his pain instead of facing it. Nobody had been in contact since, their coats still hanging on the coat rack in the hallway like they left behind a past life.

Why were they allowed to move on and not her? 

Natasha didn't have it within herself to be angry about it anymore. She had been, in the beginning, but everything took so much energy these days. Eating, getting out of bed, brushing her teeth, showering. She had no energy to even think about anger as an emotion. The empty pit in her chest sucked it all in. 

She didn't want to acknowledge it for what it was, but the diagnosis lingered in the back of her head.

The roof was so dark that she had trouble locating Katya when she first stepped through the door. Where the city's skyline and the Compound's outdoor lighting used to outline her seated figure, there now was nothing. Half the city missed electricity, and entire buildings were abandoned. Natasha had to squint to make her eyes adjust quicker. 

She found Katya at the very edge of the roof, facing the silent city. Her back was turned and her legs dangled off the side of the building like it wasn't a three story drop, a bottle of some kind in her hand. 

She looked peaceful, but a dark thought flashed through Natasha's mind as she crossed the distance, fueled by the knowledge of her wife's unstable past. It was obvious Katya was struggling again, dangerous thoughts no doubt infiltrating her brain and convincing her to do irreversible things. But Natasha breathed easy knowing they lived for each other. As long as she was alive, so would Katya.

Quietly, she sat down beside her, the smooth pebbles that covered the surface of the roof unpleasant under her butt. Katya didn't acknowledge her in any way, but Natasha had a feeling she knew why they were up here. It wasn't for nothing that she planned a "date".

Neither of them said anything. They just sat there, watching the dark skyscrapers, the rustling trees, the rolling clouds that revealed parts of the moon. One nice thing about the reduced city lights; the stars were visible again.

Katya handed Natasha her bottle of beer. She felt indifferent about it, but she took a sip anyway. It tasted like crap.

They'd done this countless times before, having a drink on the roof. Especially after a tiring day, or on a warm summer evening. It was a nice way of unwinding and finding more privacy than their apartment provided. Sometimes they talked, sometimes they sat in silence. But it had never felt like this.

The air between them wasn't tense, but it was loaded with unspoken knowledge. They were losing their grip on each other and they both realized it. Natasha could feel her wife starting to slip away. She could feel herself starting to push her away.

There was already a distance between them. The love that had always been right there on the surface when she was around Katya was being pushed under by feelings stronger and more powerful. Anger, sadness, guilt, self-hatred, fear, they made that fiery flame turn into a smoldering piece of wood. 

"Stay with me." Katya said suddenly. 

Surprised, Natasha turned to look at her, thrown off by the interruption of the silence and the odd conversation starter.

Katya's words sounded like an order. One that Natasha could not disobey for the desperation that lay right underneath the surface. A plea, hidden as a command.

The light of the moon caught the fearful, sorrowful glint in Katya's eyes as they flickered towards the sky. Natasha was caught by surprise when the sight triggered a rush of feelings within herself. She didn't think she could feel anything other than heavy emptiness.

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised.

"You're already miles away," Katya whispered, carefully glancing at her. 

Shamefully, Natasha averted her eyes to the bottle in her lap. Her heart ached in her chest, but she cherished the sharp stabs. It meant that she still cared about Katya's pain. 

"I'm just so…" Her fingers curled into fists, that powerless feeling that threatened to crush her day and night fighting its way to the surface and making her tear up with anger.

The tears kicked Katya to life. Broken souls or not, they were wives, and protective mode would always kick in when the eyes glossed over. She leaned into Natasha's side, carefully prying her clenched fingers open to slide her own between them. 

"I know. Me too."

Natasha relaxed slightly, but she couldn't help but focus on how even this touch felt foreign. Their palms were touching each other, but it's as if they were both wearing gloves. They couldn't fully reach each other. And the more she fixated on it, the more terrified she became. 

She loved her wife. She loved her. Why could she not summon that feeling through the thick cloud of emptiness? Why did this touch not magically heal her?

Panic rose in her throat. 

Not this, too. After everything they lost, she couldn't lose this too.

"I'll always stay with you," Natasha vowed desperately, the beer bottle in her hand trembling along with her fingers. 

Katya didn't relax, her voice fragile and quiet as she asked, "Even if we'll forever feel like this?"

Dread wrapped around Natasha's broken heart. Forever? Forever this emptiness, forever this awful feeling of guilt and self-loathing? The only thing she feared more than living the rest of her life in darkness, was blindly stumbling through it without Katya. To have no one to talk to. No one to find comfort in. No one to live for.

She'd already gone through life like that once, before Clint found her, but she knew she wouldn't survive that a second time. Not after knowing what she'd lost.

Her throat closed with tears. "I don't want to be alone again," Natasha choked out.

"You will never be alone again." Katya's voice wavered with tears too, her grip on Natasha's hand tightening. "I'm staying too."

Natasha wanted to feel confident in their future, to know that she could provide what Katya needed. But the truth is, she already had nothing to give. All her energy and focus she put into running the Avengers brand alone. "I can't give you what I used to," she muttered, fearing Katya would leave eventually after she figured that out too.

Katya looked away, towards the swaying trees, the dark city. The reality slowly started to sink in. This would be their future for a while. Bland, hopeless, empty. It'd be hard. "Neither can I," she whispered. "Maybe we just give what we can."

Maybe. It'd have to be enough. She wasn't leaving, and Natasha wasn't leaving either. They had to make this work. They'd been through worse. They'd faced armies, death, and losing the love of their lives, and overcame it all.

Natasha's tears had long dried, the lump in her throat shrinking until it was easier to swallow. She wanted to scream in frustration. Beg whoever was listening to just fix this, so the world would be okay, and so she and Katya would be okay. But there couldn't be a god after what happened.

Her thumb traced the scar on the back of Katya's hand, memorizing the shape in case she wouldn't feel it for a while. "The love I have for you is always there. Even if you can't feel it, and even if I can't show it," she said into the silence. No horns, no sirens, no birds.

Seeing the acceptance in Katya's eyes broke her. They wanted to cherish each other like they deserved, but they knew they weren't able to give that. And to see her wife accept that reality hurt more than getting stabbed in the gut. Katya deserved everything and more.

Katya gently squeezed her hand. "Knowing is enough." The dark circles under her eyes betrayed that she'd not slept in a while, but her mind appeared clear. This bottle of beer must have been alone. "Never doubt my reason for being here, for staying. I love you, and I always will. And that single thing is enough. You are enough."

Those stupid tears. First, Natasha felt nothing, but now that the dam broke, the emotions would not stop flowing out of her. 

She was never enough. Not fast enough, not smart enough, not cold enough, not ruthless enough. And not enough to stick around for. 

Nobody thought she was worth more than someone to throw away if it was more convenient for them, if she could no longer provide what they needed.

Nobody but Katya. 

Katya didn't need anything from her. Not a hug, not a kiss, not a home cooked meal, not a way to fix every problem in the world. Natasha just needed to exist, and that was it. Exist in whatever way she could and Katya would love her. 

"We have to be okay," Natasha said, in the same tone as Katya started this conversation. An order, filled with desperation. They both knew what would happen if they wouldn't be okay, and it would not be pretty.

"We will be," Katya promised, her determination falling slightly flat. "We will be."

[andypantsx3]

Hi Andie my loveeee! This is not a fic request of any sort but I wanted to share an idea with you if that's ok?

I have recently been OBSESSED with "The Apothecary Diaries" and I definitely see some similarities between Jinshi and Shouto that make me laugh a lot when I am watching it but that got me thinking...

Imagine... SecretPrince!Shouto. No one knows what the youngest son of Emperor!Enji looks like, Todoroki Shouto is a name shrouded in mystery. The reason being with Shouto now old enough; Enji tasks Shouto with the matters of the Inner Palace undercover to test him and if he does a good enough job he promises him to bring back Empress!Rei to the main court from the outer palace. She had been sent there after her position declined as a courtesan since the "death" of her eldest son and the tyranny of the emperor drove her mad. Shouto agrees.

Imagine... Commoner!Reader who was taught to read and write despite not being a noble, who harbored a special interest in medicine. Her family has plans of making her a courtesan (which she despises but can't do anything against) , thus the formal education. However, with her father's business going under she has no choice but to join the Imperial Palace work force as one of the ladies in waiting for Courtesan!Momo so they can make ends meet. Surprisingly Momo turns out to be quite generous and open minded unlike the other nobles and the reader finds a family along with the other ladies in waiting such as Ochako, Tsuyu, Jiro and Mina. Now all she has to do is finish her term without any trouble, until then her father should be able to get things back in control at home...

But of course things never go as planned as a bunch of mysteries unfold at the palace needing the help of a specific apothecary, the appearance of a way too handsome yet mysterious eunuch at the inner palace, and his strange yet frequent visits to Lady Momo's place... Wait what he came specifically asked for us?... Huh... how bizarre...

Omg I can see it so so clearly. Through a series of odd encounters, where the reader learns about the true nature on this strange eunuch and surprisingly... he's kind of nice... and the Eunuch of the other hand having such weird curiosity over a simple maid with no courtly manners or refined personality to point where he continuously seeks her company. But we must not get sidetracked! we are here for our family... not for some... handsome... kind... gentle...wai- WHAT NO NO NO BRAIN STOP IT!!!

Obviously this is heavily HEAVILY inspired by apothecary diaries but I think it fits so well... MilitaryCommander!Bakugo, his right hand man being Kirishima, CourtAdviser!Aizawa, MissingPrince!Touya who fled to the neighboring kindom and has been plotting his revenge since.

Omg I loveeeeeee this skdjhskjdhsfl I am gonna have to watch Apothecary Diaries because this concept is everything??

I absolutely love the layers of intrigue and Shouto would work sooooo well as a secret prince masquerading as a far too handsome eunuch!!

We would tie ourselves in knots over how beautiful we found him and wondering if that's something he would ever want too!!! And then to find out he's a prince. I can just see the emotional turmoil of no we must not have feelings morphing into okay we have feelings but he's a eunuch he probably doesn't want us morphing into oh my god I think he wants us?? morphing into HE'S ROYALTY!!!!!! PANIC!!!!!!!!!

Chef's kiss, love this, this is the kind of Reader torture I love to see. I absolutely think you need to make this a fic and I will be watching Apothecary Diaries ASAP!!!!!!

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac # 32 : Monkey day off

For once Wukong isn't the one fighting the demons

Despite having the ability to do so, Wukong rarely shrinked himself. He never thought about it to be honest. Being tall was more practical as a whole but he had to admit that being shrinked had its advantages, for example he could be groomed by Macaque. The great sage leaned on the lil guy chest, a pleased smile on his face, tail swaying in delight. They were both on Ao Lie horse head, savoring the fresh winds of spring. Macaque was always very diligent in his grooming. He picked every strand of fur and smoothed it twice, removing dirt, twigs and bugs hidden within the bushy hair.

Wukong loved feeling Macaque's claws dive in his scalp, it made his skin tingles just right. Plus he was always pretty after, and if he was lucky Macaque would weave more braid in his luscious mane. They convinced Sanzang to not shave it (as per Buddhism demand), a lil white lie about how monkeys needed their mane to keep sickness at bay. Wukong was convinced that Sanzang saw right through their lie but pretended otherwise. The sage was grateful for that.

The pilgrims reached a river too large to be crossed. The villagers were kind enough to let them stay in their homes. Like always, their benefactor was frightened by the pilgrims appearances and fled the moment they saw him.

“How rude.” Huffed Wukong as he settled on a table, he was still shrinked and didn't felt like returning to his orignal size.

“Plus I made you all pretty, they don't know what they're talking about.” Mumbled Macaque as he finished his grooming. Wukong brightened at being called pretty by Macaque, his tail thumped on the table.

“They just didn't expect to see you.” Sighed Sanzang. The young monk went to see their benefactor, old Chen, and explained the situation. Afterward all the pilgrims were served food.

“Don't eat so much Piglet! You're gonna starve the whole village.” Laughed Wukong when he saw how much food Bajie was inhaling.

“You may not know, elder brother, but a monk half-feed is worse than a monk dead.” Replied Bajie with a fake wiseness. Wukong huffed and rolled his eyes, he then threw his thumb-size bowl to Bajie and roared of laughter once it hit the pig's forehead.

“You little!” Grumbled Bajie as he rose and chased after Wukong. The great sage shrieked and ran away from the angry pig.

“Don't break anything!” Called Sanzang with a sigh.

“At least they're energetic.” Nodded Wujing as he cleaned Bajie’s mess.

“Children.” Snorted Macaque, he then looked forward and smiled in disbelief. “Ao Lie, I don't know how you did it but you got a dumbing on your head.”

“Oops, my bad.” Laughed the dragon-horse as he took the dumbling on his head and threw it in his mouth.

Once Bajie stopped chasing after Wukong, the pilgrims learned of a demon, the King of Numinous Power, demanding children as sacrifice in exchange of wind and rain. Wukong cracked his knuckles once he heard that.

“Guess it's time to get back to my orignal size.” But Macaque stopped him before he could even try.

“No. You're always the one defeating demons, let Bajie and Wujing take charge for once.” Stopped Macaque.

“Yeah, we don't need you monkey brain.” Huffed Bajie with crossed arms.

“We got this Elder brother.” Reassured Wujing with a grin. They both left the house after this. It felt a bit odd for Wukong, he was usually always the one to fight.

“Hey kiddo, can you take a bowl and fill it with warm water?” Kindly asked Macaque, Sanzang nodded and did as told. Macaque put scented herbs and lotion in the water then he turned towards Wukong. “Here, you can take a bath. You need a day off after all.”

Wukong flushed a bit at the idea but he couldn't deny Macaque. He removed most of his clothes (except his loin cloth) and entered the bowl of warm water. He sighed of bliss once he was inside. Macaque went besides him and began to knead his shoulders. The sage let out a lil yelp of surprise before melting in the black-furred monkey hands. Slowly, the golden-furred monkey became a puddle of purrs and happy chirps. Sanzang and Ao Lie watched the peculiar scene of both tiny monkeys relaxing with soft smiles, it was cute.

Some time after this, both Wujing and Bajie got back defeated.

“Ah, did you come here to seek this old monkey wisdom?” Snickered Wukong as Macaque was sharpening his claws.

“Don't let it get to your head, you pampered monkey.” Mumbled Bajie.

“We don't know how to defeat the King of Numinous Power.” Admitted Wujing with a pout.

“Well I have a saying for cases like this : when you don't what to do, go to Guanyin.” Answered Wukong, he was still lounging in his bowl of warm water, being pampered by Macaque.

In the end, Guanyin resolved the situation, the demon turning out to be her escaped goldfish.

“Ah! That was a great day.” Laughed Wukong as he returned to his original size, he felt incredibly revigored. Macaque was right. He needed more days off.

“It's unfair! We spend the day fighting and you spend the day being pampered.” Groaned Bajie.

“Not my fault you don't have an amazing best friend who takes care of you like me.” Cooed Wukong as he lifted Macaque to his face and rubbed his face against the tiny monkey. Macaque was dwarfed in Wukong's fluffy cheek.

“Ew, monkey love.” Replied Bajie with a grossed out face.

+ cut scenes

Guanyin : I wonder where my goldfish is? Well it's just a goldfish, not like it can cause troubles 🤷

King of Numinous Power : And now I demand your children as sacrifices! In exchange I'll give you wind and rain! 😈

 

Bajie and Wujing : bodhisattvas we need your help!! 😭

Guanyin : Oh it's not monkey today? Then who am I going to taste this new tea flavor on? 🤔

 

Fun fact : Wukong goes so much to Guanyin for help, she started testing tea on him. She likes to make tea and Wukong got a strong stomach.

Ch1 / Previous /Next

[ajcrawly]

who are blood of eden though...

I spent a lot of NtN thinking that they were (at least the descendants of) the billionaires who fled Earth pre-Resurrection but this quote keeps nagging at me

How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is to have a thankless child - King Lear, Act I Sc 4

The second part of that quote - the turning of backs, the feelings of rejection - that works with the billionaire theory. I just struggle with the idea that John conceptualises of those fled billionaires as his children in the context of that quote

We know that BoE have been around almost as long as the Empire (neither for nor against billionaire theory I guess), and that it took them a while to find the Empire (I'd say against - how fast were they travelling, and how far, that they couldn't come back again? I don't think we get the impression that the Resurrection physically moved the solar system somewhere else?). 5000 years in fact! 5000! That's an awful long time to Not Find the solar system.

We know that BoE have a very specific interest in human culture (as seen in the naming conventions) which again speaks to them being from Earth rather than, e.g another planetary outpost that just wasn't mentioned pre-Res, since the culture isn't just human but like. Eminem lyrics, say.

Something about the billionaire theory really feels off to me though. Thankless children. The billionaires don't have anything to be thankful to Jod for - they left before all that. Is it possible that BoE are an early offshoot from the immediate post-Res population - that they got into some sort of schism and fucked off?

There's absolutely no coherent conclusion or point here I'm just rotating this in my brain

[archiveikemen]

『 Villain's Night 』 Story Event: Chapter 1

Jude Jazza

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection. I do not own any of the original content. Please support CYBIRD by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

❥･• Warnings and FAQ

Costumed Young Man: You’re so cold… didn't you hear me say trick or treat?

Kate: … I’m waiting for someone.

Costumed Young Man: If you don't want a treat, then I’ll have to play a trick on you.

(H-He’s creepy…)

Jude told Ellis to buy some things, and so we went to the bustling town where some Halloween festivities were happening.

While waiting outside a store for Ellis, I was pestered by a young man wearing a costume.

(I’ll be separated from Ellis if I leave this spot…)

(Then it’ll defeat the whole purpose of me coming along to help carry the shopping bags… how do I shake this person off me?)

Costumed Young Man: Hey, are you ignoring me?

Kate: ? Let go of me…!

The young man grabbed my wrist, yelling and glaring at me. At that moment—

???: You're awful and choosing the men you throw yourself at.

Costumed Young Man: What?

(... This voice.)

Someone pulled me backwards by my shoulder, and I turned around to see Jude standing there.

Jude: You feeling (sexually) frustrated?

Kate: No…! This person has been pestering me and refuses to leave me alone, that’s all.

Jude: Oh?

Costumed Young Man: Eep!

A brief glance from Jude was enough to make the young man sense danger, and he fled with a cowardly cry.

Kate: … Thank you for saving me.

Jude: You were standing there defenselessly like an idiot.

Jude: As a former postwoman, you should know that there would be such fools going around being festive on Halloween.

I turned my gaze toward the lively streets of London, and Jude took his hand off my shoulder.

The spot he touched felt cold, my eyes instinctively followed his hand as he pulled away.

He was fundamentally an unfeeling and sadistic man, but he would sometimes do something like that, and they never fail to make me nearly lose my composure.

Jude: It honestly baffles me that you’ve lived this long unscathed.

Kate: … I would've bit him and escaped if I had to.

Jude: Oh really? What bravery.

Jude: However… I saved you this time, so you owe me one.

Kate: !? I’ll repay you right now, I’ll do it immediately!

(I have to propose a suitable compensation before he demands something utterly outrageous!)

(What would be good… confectionery? Nope, bad idea. He might label me as “one of those fools going around being festive about Halloween” and flat out reject them.)

(Hmm…. let me think…)

Jude: Seeing as you're wrecking that pea brain of yours, I’ll tell you what I want as compensation.

Kate: Huh…!?

Jude: Don’t roam around aimlessly tonight, be obedient and stay in your own room at the castle.

Jude: I’ll let you off if you can promise me to do that.

Kate: … You’re fine with just that?

Jude: You want something more extreme?

Kate: NO! Okay, I promise.

Ellis: I kept you waiting, Kate. Sorry, I took quite a while because the shop was crowded…

Ellis: Jude? Are you done with work already?

Jude: I wouldn't be standing here if I wasn't.

(He went to work today too, even though it's a holiday. He’s really always so busy…)

On top of having to complete missions as a member of Crown, he also had work at his trading company… I couldn't help but admire how he was capable of shouldering that heavy workload.

(He doesn't like his job… and he’s not a huge spender who splurges excessively on luxury.)

(I wonder what his reason for working this hard is…?)

…

In the end, Ellis only gave me the lightest bag out of everything he bought, and the three of us returned to Crown’s castle.

Victor: Happy Halloween! What do you think of the splendid decorations in the dining hall?

Alfons: What wonderful decorations! They make me want to ask, who put them up?

Victor: Yes, yes, I shall not keep it a secret. These were put up by yours truly!

Kate: Wow! As expected from Victor!

Ellis: *clap clap clap* 😐

Jude: …

Kate: Jude, could you please at least comment something…

Alfons dragged me into the dining hall the very moment I stepped foot into it, and I was amazed by the extravagant decorations.

Victor wore a satisfied grin, unbothered by the lacklustre reactions.

Victor: Hmm, Ellis and Kate’s kindness, Jude’s icy stare…

Victor: My cursed ones and fairytale writer are functioning normally today!

Victor: … But that’s only for while the sun is still up. I’ve already said this to Alfons.

Victor: Ellis and Jude should be careful tonight too.

Jude: I don't have the time to be chit chatting with a weirdo.

Jude dodged the topic and left.

Kate: … Is there something happening at night?

Alfons: Fufu, I guess we could call it a strange thing about curses.

Alfons: Once every few years, when there's a full moon on Halloween night, the “sinfulness” of people born with curses intensifies.

Victor: At the same time, the Nightblooms (actual name: Dutchman’s Pipe Cactus or Epiphyllum oxypetalum) in the palace will be in full bloom, thus this phenomenon is known as the “Night of The Nightblooms”. Based on what I know, the last time it happened was 20 years ago.

Kate: What do you mean by intensifying “sinfulness”...?

Alfons: Cursed people have certain traits, yes?

Alfons: For example, William’s traits are “self-righteousness” and “condemnation”. As for Jude’s… “ruthless”, “haughty”, and “vengeful”.

Alfons: I think it's not wrong to say that these traits will become stronger tonight.

Kate: Does that mean that Jude will become more ruthless, haughty, and vengeful than he already is now…?

Victor: That’s right. As for the cursed person, they find it harder to control themselves… something like that.

Victor: It’s a dangerous night for both the cursed person and the people around them.

(It’s dangerous even for the cursed person…)

Alfons: And despite knowing that, it looks like Jude has plans to go somewhere dangerous tonight.

Kate: Somewhere dangerous?

Alfons: Yeah. Roger told me about Jude’s plans for tonight.

Alfons: Have you heard of the illegal way of gambling called “Duel Gambling” which involves killing each other?

Kate: N-No…!

Alfons: There's word going around that the man who embezzled money from Jude’s trading company has been squandering the stolen money there.

Alfons: Sad to say that the little rascal has already died a rather nasty death.

Alfons: It seems that Jude wants to put the screw on that gambling establishment and take all of their money.

Alfons: It’s chilling to think about the possibility of bloody violence.

Kate: Going to such a place on a day like this makes it even more dangerous…

Alfons: Doesn't it? But that’s the perfect place for someone who loves money and the misfortune of others to be at, don't you think?

Alfons: He might get himself arrested or even killed if he goes too far, but… well, he’ll be alright.

(Wha… that won’t be good.)

Kate: He’s already working so hard at his job and completing missions for Crown… he doesn't seem to be in need of money.

Alfons: Could it be because of the “vengeful” trait his curse gives him?

Alfons: He will never be satisfied until he gets back what has been taken from him, and never forgive a broken promise until he's taken revenge.

Ellis: Also… Jude needs a lot of money and manpower to achieve his goal, I guess?

Kate: His goal…?

Ellis: He made a promise to someone in the past.

Kate: Is it something that can be done with money?

Ellis: It’s said that it is 99.9% impossible.

(What…?)

(For that 0.1% chance… he’s making himself this busy and even risking his life?)

Ellis: … Anyway, because Duel Gambling is illegal, the other party has to back down no matter what. He said that he’ll take back twice the amount of money he lost, and that tonight’s the best time.

Kate: Will you be going with him?

Ellis: I… I’ll be staying in my room tonight, I guess.

Ellis: Because I don’t know what will happen to me tonight… :)

Kate: … I-I see… you’re right.

Victor: … None of the cursed people in the castle can help tonight, Kate.

(So Jude might… die alone… in some unknown place…)

Alfons: You look worried about him. Why not go see for yourself what’s going on?

Kate: … I promised him that I’ll be good and stay in the castle tonight.

Alfons: Haha! As long as he doesn't catch you, it won't count as breaking the promise.

Kate: … Please don’t tempt me. A promise is a promise, and it should never be broken.

Alfons: Fufu, that’s too bad. I forgot how upright and serious you are.

Alfons: I’ll lend this to you in case you have a change of mind.

Alfons: You’ll only be allowed to enter that gambling den today if you’re dressed up.

Alfons whispered in my ear and handed some items to me — a pair of cat ears and a tail that looked very questionable.

Kate: … How do I put this tail on…?

Alfons: You can’t tell just by looking at its shape? This part goes inside you—

Kate: T-Take them back…!

Alfons: I’m not accepting returns ^-^

Alfons stuffed them into my pocket and left in a good mood.

I couldn't bring myself to touch those items, so I left them untouched in my pocket.

(I- I’ll get rid of them when I’m changing my clothes…)

(I want to keep the promise I made to Jude.)

(But…)

As much as I knew that I was being unnecessarily worried, I couldn't help being curious about what happens on “Night of The Nightblooms”.

…

I walked to the palace garden.

(This is the garden where the Nightblooms are. They’re still buds at the moment…)

(When they bloom together… it must be a very beautiful sight.)

Unmistakably — beautiful enough to drive people insane.

???: My… is that a little robin lost in a garden full of Nightblooms?

Kate: William…

William: Have the flowers driven you mad yet?

Kate: No… I just learnt about the Night of The Nightblooms a while ago — I got curious about them.

William: — The troubled look on your face tells me that what you're feeling is more than pure curiosity.

Kate: I promised Jude this morning that I’ll stay in my room at the castle tonight. But…

Kate: I think he’s deliberately trying to keep me out of harm’s way, because he knows about Night of The Nightblooms.

Kate: The promise was supposed to be a means for me to repay what I owe him, and yet I’m being protected by him again…

Kate: I feel like I’m not doing anything to repay him at all.

William: … Fufufu. You’re a sincere little robin. By the way, Kate.

Kate: Yes…?

William: Trick or Treat?

Kate: !? Sorry, I don't have anything with me right now.

William: I know. I only said that to justify my act of mischief.

Kate: Huh…?

William: Perhaps because the sun is setting — I’m feeling slightly more selfish than usual.

William: “Tonight, do as your desires tell you to”

Kate: …!?

William: This is the place Jude went to. You can go look for him if you’d like.

My hand moved on its own to receive the memo William held out, like a magnet being attracted to metal.

Kate: W-Whoa… William, this is…!?

On top of that, my feet seemed to have also gained a mind of their own and carried me towards the garden’s exit.

(I… Am I headed towards where Jude is!?)

William: Go ahead, Kate.

William: — I hope you have the most sinful Halloween you’ve ever experienced in your lifetime.

[lets-try-some-writing]

Hello! May we hear/read more about Revelator, please? 👀

You wish to know about my original work??? Chatter mode has been unlocked with this query.

Revelator is my attempt to make my workaholic brain shut up. I struggle to continue finding purpose in writing fics when I can't capitalize on it. So I decided it would be a good idea to take the basic premise of one of my fics and apply it to my own original work to inspire me to work on something productive and maintain my hobby. That said, Revelator follows the general premise of my most popular fic, The Many Lives of Optimus Prime.

Rant incoming.

In a universe where humanity has fled to the stars after their empire was shattered by an unknowable entity, twenty sentient robotic units are created by a relic that humanity does not understand but still houses. Due to a series of misfortunes on the world they tried to terraform, the last remnants of humanity are wiped out, leaving the entire world to the Twenty and the relic that made them.

The main character of this tale is the only one out of the Twenty who foresaw the coming deaths of their human masters and was promptly ignored. After humanity fell, he tried to guide the rest of the Twenty into creating a civilization in light of more of their kind being forged by the relic. His vocal nature led to his destruction at the hands of one of his fellows. However, against the odds, he found himself returned to full functionality in a new frame and with newfound purpose.

The relic that made him and the rest is more than it seems. It has sensed the threat that doomed humanity and it has no interest in watching its creations fall as well. And so it has chosen a champion, one whose sole mission is to endure the test of time, learn, grow, and ultimately gain enough power to shape this fledgling race so that they might stand a chance against the doom that is coming.

My original work follows my main character throughout his various lives and throughout the various eras of his world. He will watch, he will learn, and when he has lived long enough to have gained wisdom, everything will come together with him taking power. In many regards, his tale will mirror my fic. However, I am taking care to create an original world with a unique race to inhabit it. I hope to make each life its own story so that there is always something new to see and explore. In a way, its my worldbuilding project. I also want every excuse to not write humans. I need to keep to my niche or I will lose interest immediately. Thanks TF.

Thus far I have twenty three pages written, nine chapters fully planned, and the second arc mostly conceptualized. Here is a snippet from chapter one.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You were not made to serve us, child of the Mind. Your creator made you for a reason that far exceeds anything myself or the commanders of this vessel could ever envision.” There was something sad in the priest’s tone as the lift came to a stop. Nineteen found himself conflicted as he watched his master step forward and onto the platform that ran around the exterior of the Great Mind.

“That conclusion has no logical basis.” He managed to murmur as he followed the priest. There was always something strange about being so close to the thing that made him. The thrum of its crimson core always had Nineteen’s personal fusion core pulsing in sync with the greater machine. 

“Child of the Mind, you have so little faith. Look upon yourself and your siblings, then see the rest of those made by the Mind. You are unique, each and every one of you.” The priest paused and gestured to Nineteen, prompting him to stop in his tracks. The surface of the Great Mind shifted in time with the priest’s words. Nineteen would almost claim it to be in response to his master’s commentary if he were a believer in any capacity. 

“We have purpose, and we shall serve.” Nineteen stated simply. There was little thought in his response. Whatever the priest was getting at was beyond his design. He and the twenty were made to serve. That was all. The loyalty coding, their sentience, and all the rest meant very little in the grand scheme of things. Nineteen would still be disposed of if he proved a burden, regardless of the potential mysticism around him and his kin. 

“You shall serve. But it shall not be those of flesh that you give your loyalty to.” The priest smiled, and it was only then that Nineteen noted the cables running from underneath his master’s robe. They were part of the augments priests of the mechanicus received, and at some point during their short walk, those cables had connected to the Great Mind.

There was no railing separating them from the relic, and as such, there was nothing to theoretically stop the priest from connecting to the Great Mind. Even still, Nineteen found himself unsettled. When had the connection occurred? Why did his master’s eyes hold a strange gleam to them?

“I do not understand.” He stood stiffly, his gaze flicking between the relic and his master. The thoughts of machines did not often translate cleanly for organics. Perhaps the priest was confused and interpreting the logical processing of the relic incorrectly. The twenty were made for the express reason of serving those aboard the Eden. They had been told as such from the moment of their forging and it had thus far proven true. There was no reason to believe the murmured prophecy of the elderly human before him.

Despite that, there was a degree of unease that wormed its way into his mind as he watched the priest grin in an almost understanding way. 

“You don’t need to. I have a feeling it will make more sense to you as you age.” A red glow entered the priest’s eyes. It was hardly present, but to Nineteen who possessed far superior vision than any unaugmented human, it was almost impossible to ignore.

“Come here and pass me that cloth if you would be so kind.” Then, just like that, the moment ended and the priest disconnected from the relic. His cables slipped back beneath his robes into whatever holster they originated from and he approached the only work table on the platform. Nineteen quickly reset his optics and filed away the data for later review. It wasn’t important right now. 

[everything-is-as-it-was]

hi riv! how about they’re in a shed for the wip tag game 👀

hey there!!!

loll this one is something I wrote in a fever dream after watching All Quiet on the Western Front. The imagery and music in this one scene was just so incredible, and heartfelt, and melancholy, and of COURSE my brain went to dnp lol.

I've included a snippet of it under the cut. Not sure if I should continue with it, and also I kind of hate that I wrote it in first person but oh well! here we go:

He stares out the window, eyes unfocused and unwavering, fixed on something I doubt I could see even if I went up there to look with him. Ice crystals gather on his upper lip, on the stubble growing there. The window is broken, the frosted panes splintered, likely by a gunshot gone astray, and the glassless hole lets in a small amount of early muted sunlight, basking his features in a soft, cold glare. 

I shift from my position on the floor, stretching out my aching limbs, frozen solid from the cold. My dirty uniform is too small. I think they figured I wouldn’t last long in it, anyway. 

“What time is it?” I ask, feeling the dirt crusting on my face move as I speak. Neither of us have showered in days. Neither of us have thought about such luxuries since the war started, I reckon. “Have you not slept?”

He doesn’t answer, eyes still gazing outward, out the window and into the world. “Listen a moment,” he murmurs, almost too quiet for me to hear.

I listen. I listen and hear nothing. No birds, as they’ve likely fled this terrible place. This place of blood and barbed wire and gunshots and hate. This place that changes every person who walks into it, rearranging their chemistry so that they aren’t quite human anymore. I lost my humanity a long time ago. 

There are no birds. But there is also nothing else. No gunshots, no explosions, no piercing cries of pain or grief. The world outside is holding its breath, leaving no oxygen for the fires of anguish to flare. 

“It’s so still here,” he whispers, as if he’s afraid to shatter this fragile silence we’ve found ourselves in. The only sound is the small creak of the ancient floorboard as he shifts his weight to look at me on the floor, and he smiles. He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges, mouth tilted upwards into an expression I thought he’d forgotten how to make. I’ve forgotten how to do it too– smile. 

The only smiles I’ve seen as of late were the ones of my comrades as they died, realizing they’d finally find peace for the first time in years. 

“I thought I’d gone deaf,” he says, and laughs, bending a bit at the sheer effort of it, to let out that tiny bit of joy. His breath, the breath that ensures I keep breathing, condensates in the air and then drifts away. 

I do not respond. I’m still looking at his smile, because I have no idea when I’ll see it again. If I’ll see it again. I may die before I do, dying in a puddle of mud like everyone else. Nobody is special. 

“They signed, Phil,” he says, and the words don’t quite reach my brain. They hang in the air of the dilapidated little house we’ve found ourselves in, filling the space. My body feels lighter, but the meaning of what he’s said still hasn’t reached me. 

“War is over.” He nods and looks back out the hole in the glass, like he is checking to make sure his statement still holds weight. If it is still over, if it wasn’t a deeply unfair dream. 

I sit up, not taking my eyes off him because it isn’t true. The war is not over. It is never over. We’re going to keep fighting and killing each other until there’s no one left but old men to draw up treaties in train cars while the world burns around them. 

“It’s over,” he says again, but he’s not talking to me. He’s talking to the silent world, to the birds that have not yet returned, to the bugs seared into the dirt and our friends torn apart, to our enemies we’ve killed and the ones we watched die, to our families who are likely dead and the families who do not yet know that their sons certainly are. 

And then he looks to me. And it’s only the two of us, and that little shack holds the entirety of the world that matters.

[mslanna]

PLEASE, PLEASE WRITE IT! 😤 (what i assume is a weird mixture between a mating dance and asserting dominance on a very confused Raphael🤣)

well, not-quite-so-anon anymore @fiendish-appreciation. it is done. here is the last part of the story

unless I maybe do a soft epilogue, which I am not sure I can.

Outfox the Cat Part 3: The Devil Does You on AO3

It feels as if the world rests on Tav's shoulders alone and the slaying of the Elder Brain only increased the weight. They blink in exhaustion, slumping over their war hammer for stability. The Crown of Karsus drags them down merciless, like a black hole attached to their hand.

Should have left it in the river, they think. Should have made the bloody devil go look for it himself. But they made a promise. And that, for them, was as binding as any contract.

Tav wonders why that did it. Pity? Power? It felt good to outsmart a devil in his own home. The power ran through their veins golden and intoxicating. It may have carried them away a little and the victory was sweet. Even when ghost caresses started to crowd their days when shivers of phantom pleasure woke them up squirming at night.

Haarlep was making good use of their body. He must wear it a lot and sometimes Tav wonders who is on the other side of the equation. They hold on to the confession that Raphael only ever wants to sleep with himself. But the alternative is slightly disgusting. How many people does Haarlep sleep with during a day, during a night? Twenty-four hours filled with more sex than Tav thought possible.

And if it is Raphael taking advantage of the incubus' new form, Tav sighs. The cunt would surely have had an easier time fishing the Crown of Karsus from the Chionthar. If only the water had washed away more of the blood. Caked in gore Tav stumbles on.

Astarion already fled the sunlight. Lae'zel rode off on a dragon to be a figurehead for her people. Wyll followed Karlach into the hells. Time to follow. Tav sighs and looks at the broken city. Their home, once upon a time. It feels forever away. But right now, Baldur's Gate looks as broken as they feel.

Just a little further, Tav urges themself. Up the city to the Devil's Fee. They take a deep breath and close their eyes for a moment. This, too, will pass.

When Tav opened their eyes, the city vanished. The stink of blood and steel exchanged for the smell of hearty food, sweet wine and hot baths. They stand in the House of Hope, close enough to collapse onto one of the many chairs in the feast hall. The table is loaded, brimming with treats of all kinds. The smell makes their stomach clench.

"A little eager, are we?" Tav sits down heavily, resting their eyes on the devil who watches them from the end of the room with triumph in his eyes. "I would have preferred to do this with a little decorum, but hey."

Tav's attempt to throw Raphael the Crown of Karsus falls short, as does the crown. It clatters on the tiles, rolling in wobbly circles until the devil picks it up.

"And let you hold all the trump cards again? I think not, my dear." Raphael devours the crown with eager eyes. The goal of his efforts in this plane of existence finally in his grasp. But he doesn't put it to immediate use. Instead he turns it over in his fingers slowly, keeping them safely busy as he approaches the weary paladin.

"After this ordeal you went though, it is only proper to grant you the hospitality and – recreation my House of Hope has to offer." His words a smooth and roll from his tongue with practised easy. Only a hint of hunger hides under the rough edges of the vowels.

"I-" Tav breaks off. They are sitting comfortably. The idea to get up doesn't appeal, not to mention they are unsure their legs will take it.

"I have you covered," Haarlep's voice comes from behind. They reach their arms around Tav and lift them easily. The war hammer clatters to the ground unheeded.

"Haarlep! In your regular form?" Tav forces a chuckle. "Didn't get to use it much lately, did you?"

The incubus answers with a peal of laughter as they carry their prey into the boudoir.

Tav leans their face against the red shoulder. The motion from walking is calming and they drowsily close their eyes. Sleep beckons but is chased away too soon when Haarlep puts them down near the restoration fountain.

There they undress the weary paladin and clean the blood from skin and hair. Tav remembers the restoring power of the fountains, but Haarlep uses the water sparingly. Enough to refresh, not enough to strengthen.

"Don't want to make it more difficult on me than I have to," they confide, rubbing blood from Tav's hair and between their toes.

It's a cryptic statement. What was Raphael to do? Make his incubus lick them clean? The devil watches, waiting at the edge of the pool and his hooded eyes still glint more than the light refracting from the crown in his hands.

Tav wants to make a quip, tease him for letting Haarlep do all the hard work as per usual. But they are tired. The water cleans away blood and bruises; to wake them up, Tav seems to have to drink it. But Haarlep gathers them up again already, slipping nothing but a small sip of the healing waters down their throat.

"You will need it," the incubus murmurs as he carried Tav away.

Raphael follows, making a detour only to vanish the Crown of Karsus to a safe place. The silk sheets rise cool against Tav's skin as Haarlep gently lowers them onto the large bed. The incubus follows, taking up a seat at Tav's head. They take the paladin's wrists and slowly stretch their arms out over their head.

"Not so plucky now, are we?" Raphael gloats. He pulls off his boots never releasing Tav from his proprietorial gaze. When Tav tries to sit up, Haarlep tightens the grip around their wrists, pushing the backs of their hands deep into the mattress.

Raphael kneels between Tav's legs, the final prize spread before him. The smug smile turns hungry. For now, Raphael lets his eyes betray exactly what is about happen. His lips pull back to reveal the anticipation of a victor.

"Mock all you want about the number of times you felt Haarlep's ecstasy in your body," his words drip to Tav's skin like lances. "The victory is mine."

"The devil you know, eh?" Tav replies and glances at Haarlep. "Still needs help, though."

"Oh, my loyal incubus is only here to guarantee a certain – restraint." Raphael leans forwards. He catches Tav's chin with one hand, tilting it into a perfect angle to lay a first kiss on them.

It is heavy and sweet, Tav drops back in surprise by the sheer intensity of it. Heat seeps from the devil’s lips into their mouth, filling the kiss with smouldering desire. When he raises his right thigh, pushing Tav's up with it, the paladin spreads open with a soft moan.

Raphael breaks the sound up between his teeth and deepens the kiss. His mouth controls Tav's breath until comes in short gasps. They tug at Haarlep's grip, craving to put their hands onto the devil smothering them. Tav rears up as best as they can, taking in tongue and teeth as they move.

"Oh, I know you want to take back control of this whole situation." Raphael sits back with a smirk as Haarlep forces Tav's head back onto the mattress securing their hands under his knees. "But there is only one way you may get on top and it is I who decides if and when that happens."

His lips touch down along the side of Tav's jaw, nip their lobe and travel down their throat. Each placement is perfect, the pressure just right, the length almost enough. "You can resist or yield," the devil murmurs into their ear. "But you cannot control."

Another row of kisses along the throat and towards the back elicit a strangled and angry little moan. Tav struggles once more against Haarlep's hold and earns nothing in return but a mocking chuckle from the devil laying lines of arousal over their skin.

"You may have been too busy to notice," Raphael leers taking a break to surveying his effect so far, "but I already had my first courses. I can wait now. This is all about you." He returns to teasing Tav and the precision with which each touch hits home, caressing the most sensitive areas is uncanny, revolting, and irresistible.

"Welcome to eternity." Hot words scorch Tav's ear, but go barely noticed. They rally against Haarlep's hold in vain, roiling in unwanted desire and with their mouth once again closed by Raphael's demanding kiss, they cannot talk their way out of this one. When the devil levels his weight onto their body, Tav stops wanting to.

Raphael works his way downwards, punctuated by frustrated moans. Each nip is paced and placed to drive Tav crazy with lust. And after repeated practice sessions, they land perfectly. Tav feels the smile on the fiend's lips as he works them, plays their body like a fiddle.

His hands spread their knees and hold them wide. For a moment cool air brushes over Tav's damp sex. Raphael rises to look down at his prey with cruel gratification and for a moment he relishes in the sheer power over Tav. Then he leans down, breath hovering for unreasonably long between their legs before his to tongue ventures in. Tav bucks, when the tip settles easily over their clit, caressing it with maddening familiarity.

Each gasp and groan his tongue elicits spurs him on. His fingers dig into Tav's thighs and keep them wide with an iron grip. When Tav crests towards release, Raphael sits up, smug and self-satisfied. Cold air leaves an empty caress on Tav's swollen clit.

The devil's head rises for a final threat, brown eyes blazing fire and steel. This power arouses him more than any touch.

"You will know me." Raphael growls triumphant. "In ways you cannot imagine yet and in all of my forms." The air sings and suddenly a fiend looms over Tav. His skin sears against theirs, black bones digging into their flesh along strange angles.

"I will have you begging on your knees." The words burn and roll over Tav like a hot gravel. "I will have you wail my name in supplication. Every sensation of your body will be mine, your lust, your pleasure, your pain. For I am the Master in this House."

Back in his human form, the devil leans in to resume the work on his latest toy. "As you have admitted when last we met: you had your fun. Now I will have mine."

[ghostofskywalker]

Hey bestie! If you're feeling it for your 3k follower celebration, could I request a fic with "I hope common sense is the next cool trend" and whichever Star Wars live action bae you're feeling the most? I still somehow haven't watched the Mandalorian so maybe not Din, but I love everybody else on your list lol so I'd be psyched to read whoever you're vibing with! Congrats again on 3k, you're amazing!!!

hi bestie!! it took me forever to make a decision because i loved your prompt, but anakin won out, and of course i had to include my beloveds the 501st :) i hope you enjoy it!

words: 1,505

summary: sometimes the "tales of your shared heroics" that anakin shared were just thinly veiled proof that the two of you had never thought out a single decision in your entire lives.

anakin skywalker masterlist || join my 3k celebration!!

Dumb Luck

“So, who’s going to share a story next?” Fives had just brought back a new round of drinks for the table, and attention now turned to you, Anakin, and Obi-Wan, the newcomers of the group, since the Jedi didn’t usually go out on the town with their troopers. But the 501st had convinced Anakin to come have some drinks with them, and in turn he had convinced you and Obi-Wan to join the fun.

“Why don’t one of the generals share something?” Jesse asked, raising his eyebrows at you. “A story about Jedi heroics, perhaps?” 

Obi-Wan had just started to shake his head, probably gearing up to say something annoyingly humble about his exceptional abilities as a Jedi, but Anakin spoke before he could say anything. “I’ll share something,” he said, downing the rest of his drink before taking a new one from the center of the table. “Y/N, you’ll remember this one.” 

Puzzled, you turned to him. “Why?” 

“Because you were there.” 

“Do I know about this particular story?” Obi-Wan asked. 

“No.” 

Immediately, you knew what Anakin was about to tell the rest of the group, and you resigned to your fate, along with the inevitable teasing it would bring. 

“It all started last year, when we got kidnapped in the middle of mission.”

***

When you came to, you were sitting on a cold (and slightly damp) floor, and the only light in the room was a small lantern in the corner. The room was very clearly a prison cell of some kind, and you remembered being knocked out in a fight, but apparently the assailants had bested your partner as well, because Anakin was sitting across the room from you, his head against the stone wall and his eyes closed. It was more than likely that there was some kind of sedative in play here too, because it took a few moments for the fogginess in your brain to disappear. 

Thankfully (for you), whoever had captured you had decided to forgo any kind of restraint, so you were free to get up and move around the tiny cell. “Anakin!” you said, reaching out and gently shaking him. “Anakin!” 

“What?” he asked grumpily as he opened his eyes, clearly having not yet realized the gravity of the situation. 

“We’re locked away somewhere, you laser brain,” you hissed. Your hand fled to your waist, and your eyes widened. “And they took our lightsabers.” 

That seemed to wake him up. Flying to his feet, Anakin approached the metal door of the cell, peeking through the slats of it to see if anyone was around. 

“What are we going to do?” you asked. Your comm device had been swiped too, so there was no possibility of contacting reinforcements. 

“Don’t worry, I have an idea,” was Anakin’s response. 

But before you could question him about his plans or even offer your opinion on their effectiveness, he started banging incessantly on the door. 

“Anakin! What in Maker’s name are you doing?” 

He looked back at you, confused. “Getting us out of here.” 

“By getting us killed?” 

“You know, you’re starting to sound like Obi-Wan.” 

But before you could respond to that, the sound of the door unlocking filled the space, and you were presented with the possibility that Anakin’s ridiculous plan (whatever it was), might actually work. You were just grateful that this prison still used old-fashioned architecture, and not the new ray-shield transparent prison walls that the Republic favored. 

You didn’t even get a chance to see the guard on the other side before Anakin had engaged him in combat, throwing himself at what you later realized what was the largest Togruta you had ever seen. 

Even without his lightsaber, Anakin was a force to be reckoned with. With a feral grin on his face and a darkness in his eyes you were a little concerned about, he attacked, showing no mercy when he finally won. The Togruta’s head soon made contact with the stone wall, and your captor slumped to the floor, a small trail of blood leaking from his slightly open mouth. 

Grabbing your hand, Anakin pulled you out of the cell, and now you were faced with your next challenge: to actually escape this place and make it back to your sh- 

“Wait, aren’t the Jedi not allowed to attack unarmed people?” Fives asked, pulling Anakin out from his recounting of the events. 

“We can’t kill unarmed people,” Anakin responded. “But lately, the trend has been a shift in the rules, so I’m not sure anymore.” 

“A trend?” you asked, confused. 

“You know, the way the war has changed us,” Anakin said. “Personally I think it’s pretty cool.” 

Next to you, Obi-Wan sighed quietly. “I hope common sense is the next cool trend,” he said, just loud enough for you to hear. 

“But did you kill that guy?” Echo asked, getting back to the question at hand. 

You looked over at your friend, and you saw the glare that Obi-Wan had just shot at him too. “I don’t think so,” you cut in quickly. “But we didn’t exactly stick around to find out.” 

“Exactly!” Anakin said, reaching over to squeeze your hand once before taking another sip of his drink. “Now, where was I?”  

***

“We have to find our lightsabers,” you whispered in his ear as the two of you crept through the hallway. “And we have to get out of here.” 

Anakin nodded, and the next time you turned a corner, one of your problems was suddenly solved. “Look! Those idiots didn’t even have someone guard their loot!” 

It seemed almost too good to be true, the fact that both of your lightsabers were just sitting there on a table, surrounding by what you imagined was probably the rest of the bounty they had acquired in the past few rotations. It was clear now that you had probably been taken by pirates of some kind, and it was definitely true that those who captured you had no idea about the true power the Jedi (and their weapons) held. 

But you were not about to look a gift gundark in the mouth, so you grabbed your respective sabers from the table and walked off in search of an exit. 

The halls were empty, your footsteps echoing eerily across the stone floor. “Where do you even think we are?” you asked. “Depending on how long we were out, it could be anywhere.” 

The sound of revelry and laughter was coming from the room at the end of the hall, and the two of you immediately walked over to investigate. Whoever it was that had captured you, it sounded like they were having the time of their lives, and you took one peek inside to see the scantily-clad dancers that were the focal point of the evening, along with all kinds of debauchery taking place in the crowd.

Your torn robes and bleeding scratches were definitely not going to blend in with this group, so you pulled Anakin back before he got you both captured again. But apparently, your luck had not turned around just yet, and you could sense footsteps approaching the hallway. 

Reacting quickly, you grabbed Anakin’s arm and pulled him into a small alcove that had been carved out in the wall. 

“What are you-” he asked, but you cut him off by placing a hand over his mouth. 

“Shut up!” you hissed. “Do you want to get us caught?” 

“Well, if someone actually walks down the hallway we’re going to be spotted anyway-” he shot back. 

“Yeah, if! At least now we have a chance to escape unseen.”

 But apparently you weren’t that lucky, because someone did start walking down the hallway. 

And in that moment, you made a decision that would affect the rest of your life going forward. 

You kissed him. 

There was nothing special about the first few seconds, but once he realized what was happening, you’d be lying if you said your toes weren’t curling a little in your boots. He was an excellent kisser, and afterwards, you’d have a long talk about the attraction you both felt for one another and the possibilities of maintaining a relationship while still serving the Republic as Jedi Knights, but right now all you wanted to do was lose yourself in this moment. 

“That’s what you did?” Obi-Wan’s shocked question thankfully pulled Anakin away from the (rather detailed) explanation he was giving about your first kiss.

“What else were we supposed to do?” 

“Anything else?” 

“Hey! It worked, didn’t it?” 

“You’re just lucky it did, or you’d still be in that cell.” You smirked at Obi-Wan’s remarks, and even though they sounded stern, you knew he didn’t really care. 

The two Jedi started to playfully bicker, and you just shook your head. You were just glad Anakin hadn’t said anything about your current relationship, because it was a lot easier to explain away one kiss on that mission than it would be to explain all the ones you’d shared since then.

- the end -

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[msfcatlover]

@alycat76​ : Can you give me the low urban fantasy AU? 

YES! YES I ABSOLUTELY CAN!!! Ah, you have no idea how much I love this one!!!

Okay, so! This AU was actually born directly from my frustration with a bunch of Urban Fantasy AUs (and original stories, if we’re being real here.) Namely, that those stories will so often be like, “These magical beings are very, very rare,” and then the entire cast will be mystical beings of one sort or another. And I was like, “You can totally tell an engaging story in a world like this with an almost entirely human cast. You don’t even have to cut out the magic element or fun world building!” (And yes, that first part does accurately describe my Monster!Kids AU. Shhhhh, let me have my hypocrisy.)

I wanted to do that, and my brain is 90% Batfam brainrot right now, so here’s what I came up with.

(CW for minor mentions of sickness, canon character death, and child abuse. Bruce is not the abuser, for the record. But mentions are there. Also, Jason’s body is not restored to its pre-death state, and I do describe some of the things that would’ve been done to prep him for his funeral.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Very first point: Bruce’s tie to Gotham is more than just his love & dedication to his city. The Wayne family are supposedly one of the oldest families in the city, and of those old families they’re possibly (I’m still a little unclear here) the only one not tied to the Court of Owls? They’re the ones most dedicated to improving Gotham and ending its corruption, anyway. So let’s do something with that, shall we?

The Wayne bloodline has a bond with the city. Some might call it a blessing, some might call it a curse. The eldest member of the family is a Fisher King; the health of the Lord is tied directly to that of the city. When the Lord is sick, the city suffers; when the city suffers, the Lord feels its pain. And for generations, the head of the family has near-always been ill. Bruce has vivid memories of his father retching over the toilet, or calling in sick because the trembling was too much for Thomas to risk operating on patients (they are, depressingly, some of the most vivid memories Bruce has of his father.) As a member of the family, Bruce could see the marks just under his father’s skin, from ink-black to bruise-yellow and every sickly color in between, that nobody else seemed to see (Zatanna did, and she was the only outsider to assure Bruce he wasn’t crazy over it, but there’s only so much she could do for him.) It was terrifying for a young boy to see his father so ill, but Thomas promised Bruce that even though it was a “family condition,” Thomas & Martha were working on it; Thomas promised his son that by the time Bruce had to worry about it, they’d have made enough progress that Bruce would hardly even notice it.

Of course, that’s not what happened. Thomas was actually feeling well that night, better than he had in months, and wanted to go out to celebrate. Martha chose the restaurant and Bruce chose the movie. And maybe, if Thomas had kept feeling well, if he hadn’t had to stop to catch his breath, if the family hadn’t stepped into that specific alley to avoid blocking the sidewalk... maybe things would’ve been different.

When Thomas Wayne breathed his last, his son collapsed under the weight of Gotham’s rot & suffering. Joe Chill assumed the bullet must’ve passed through one of the parents to hit the child, and fled in a panic.

The hospital could find nothing wrong with Bruce, but he saw the understanding in Alfred’s eyes when he arrived and the first thing Bruce said to Alfred was, “I think I’m dying.”

(In most legends, Fisher Kings cannot leave their homelands. The Waynes are slightly luckier, but the longer they are away, the more they... fade. Energy seeps out of them slowly, color leaves their skin, no amount of sleep is ever enough, and they eventually need to return to Gotham to recharge. Bruce’s record is 3yrs, and the doctors shipped him home basically in a coma.)

(Bruce swore he would never have children, never pass down his bloodline’s curse to an innocent child who should not have to carry it. He got a vasectomy as soon as he legally could. Needless to say, he was furious Talia would go so far as to create a clone-son for the two of them, violating both Bruce’s right to choose and cursing Damian to carry on that line of suffering.)

Bruce learned his city & body well enough that he can use it as a map. Not a map that would make sense to anyone else (street corners that are directly adjacent to eachother might be on completely different parts of him, like one on his ribs and the other behind his knee.) During the day, he uses his resources to try to treat Gotham’s suffering preventatively, going after unjust rules & systems, weaving a new security net for Gotham’s underclass, etc. At night, his methods are more surgical, cutting out the tumors & rot, while also taking the time to help as many individual citizens as he possibly can.

As the legend of the Batman grows, reality starts to bend ever so slightly under the weight of it. He jumps further & more accurately than a man of his bulk should be able to, can always find the perfect corner to hide in, always has something to grab when he falls off a building.

Despite all the suffering Gotham causes Bruce Wayne, he still loves his city. And the city loves him back.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Second point: Dick Grayson is human, and he doesn’t exactly have any magic of his own. It’s... I’m calling it “being a conduit.” Basically, Dick resonates with any magic in his vicinity. He’s very sensitive to the presence of magic, to the point of it being basically a sixth sense, and on an instinctive level he attunes himself to any natural or environmental magic around him. To a very limited degree, he can even take on a few traits of what that magic is, but not... he can’t tune into a fire spell and burn you with a touch, but when he’s resonating with Gotham, he is slightly more resistant to poisoning.

It’s much, much rarer than being a magic user (though many magic users do eventually become conduits through sheer exposure,) but in the same way having perfect pitch is different from being able to sing.

...I’m making it sound so much more powerful than it actually is here. The main benefit Dick gets out of it is that when he attunes himself to any given city, the city will treat him as a native and most citizens just passing him in the street will assume he is too (this does not affect his ability to, say, speak the language or change his accent, it’s just his “vibes,” if that makes sense.)

As far as story goes, this means Dick can see Bruce’s curse-marks despite not being a member of his bloodline; if they’re in contact with eachother, Dick can even very faintly feel what the city is inflicting on Bruce at any given time. (This scares the absolute bejeezus out of Bruce when he realizes, as he immediately assumes he misinterpreted the curse, and “bloodline” just means ��family,” or even “household,” and he’s cursed Dick as well just by offering him a home!) It also means that as soon as Robin becomes part of Batman’s legend, Dick can benefit from the city’s protections just like Bruce does.

It is, in fact, Dick who causes Bruce to realize there’s something more than just good luck happening, when Robin is thrown off a roof but fortunately finds a pole of some sort hidden by the building’s shadow to kick off from and make it to the next one over (this also triggers a rumor that Robin can fly, something Dick is more than happy to lean into with some tailoring on his cape, and yes, he does move even better & faster as a result.) The thing is, Bruce is certain there was no pole there, because he would’ve incorporated it into potential escape plans. And when he finally has the time to go back & check, after the fight is over, after Robin is safe... he’s right. The alley is empty. There’s no pole, no pipe, no nothing. But Dick definitely kicked off of something in mid-air, Dick’s not a metahuman or a magic user, he can’t double-jump or anything. Dick himself insists his foot just caught the top of a thin, flat cylinder, no more than two inches wide, just barely enough to jump from; Dick’s even pretty sure he saw the pole when he glanced behind him, sticking up out of the shadows. Nothing weird at all, except for how it doesn’t exist.

(When Jason dies, Gotham’s grief is strong enough to feel it all the way out in space. Dick doesn’t understand the heavy feeling in his heart, nor the sudden urgency to get home. He tells the other Titans to just drop him off in Gotham, but the closer they get, the worse Dick feels. When they actually break the city limits, Dick just melts into tears as Gotham’s pain howls through every inch of his body. Donna calls ahead, more than a little panicked, and nearly gives Alfred a heart attack with how worried & hesitant Donna is to just straight up say what’s wrong with Dick. She offers Dick the communicator, saying it’s Alfred on the line, and Dick snatches it out of her hand to ask the only coherent word any of them will hear from him for the rest of the day: “Who?”

When Alfred answers, Dick just... breaks. Right there in front of them. He’s trying to say something, something about that being wrong, something about having plans, but he can’t deny what he’s feeling, and he can’t seem to get the words out.

The Titans land in the Batcave, and refuse to leave. Fuck Batman’s rules, they’re not abandoning Dick... and Dick isn’t the only one who didn’t get to say goodbye.)

(Bruce & Dick still fight about it terribly once they’re finally alone. Bruce never once raises his hand to his son, but Dick tries to reach out to him, to touch Bruce’s hand and resonate, to literally share his pain, and Bruce jerks away saying, “Don’t, it’s not---”

Dick stares in shock & horror as both of them silently complete that sentence: It’s not real. If you asked Dick right in that moment, he’d say striking him would have hurt less.)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Jason was human, fully human, with nothing special about him at all. Well, except for how Gotham loved him even more than Batman. The resonance Dick needs to wrap himself up in for Gotham to accept him, Jason has it echoing in his bones. He’s one of Gotham’s truest sons, he’s part of that city, and the city is part of him.

It’s not Superboy Prime’s reality breaking punch that brought Jason back from the dead. I... Look, I wrote a little nursery rhyme to explain it, and I’ve no idea if it’s any good (but it can’t be any worse than the Court of Owls’ rhyme, which has just a few too many syllables in certain lines for me to find whatever rhythm it’s supposed to have.)

Take me home to Gotham If I die far away Put me in her soil In a shallow grave

I don’t belong in Paris Or under London Town Don’t bury me in Tokyo Put me in Gotham ground

If you lose me out at sea In storm or dark of night I’ll swim back home to Gotham I’ll just follow the lights

Don’t send me off to Moscow Or drag me down to Rome I’m Gotham born and bred, my friend I only rest at home

Oh, take me home to Gotham If I die far away Put me in her soil In a shallow grave

I don’t need no tears or funerals Don’t miss me every day For I’ve come home to Gotham And right at home I’ll stay

(As far as most people are concerned, that’s where the rhyme ends. This next part is less well known, in-universe.)

I don’t want no fancy coffin Just put me in the ground Dig a hole on old Park Row And don’t let me be found

My soul belongs in Gotham She knows me blood and bone There is nowhere else that I may rest I’ll only toss and moan

But I’ll rest well in Gotham For two years and a day And if I’m feeling up to it I might even awake

So take me home to Gotham If I die far away You know I’ll only rest in peace In my shallow grave

...Yeah. This actually leads to a few traditions very specific to Gotham, like lighting a candle on someone’s grave on the anniversary of their death to help “lead them home,” or sitting vigil by their grave for the first 2-3 anniversaries. Lots of people don’t even know it has anything to do with this rhyme, it’s just part of Gotham’s culture.

Bruce & Dick of course know the whole rhyme and fight not to get their hopes up on the 2nd anniversary (have you seen that one post where Dick goes to smoke a cigarette for Jason on his grave, chokes on the smoke, and then Bruce shows up and they just silently share it? Yeah. Those vibes. Big those vibes.)

They made one crucial miscalculation, though: they calculated when Jason’s return would theoretically be from the time he died, not from when he was buried. Jason claws his way out of the ground just a day or two after they leave.

Now Jason’s a full-on undead revenant. In exactly the same condition they put him in the ground. He has embalming fluid in his veins, and wires holding his broken bones together. His mouth was sewn shut. But he’s not braindead, he’s fully aware, so enjoy that nightmare fuel for your near future! Additionally, people can’t seem to recognize him as being out of place; he’s walking around in his funeral suit, covered in dirt, and hardly anyone gives him a second glance. He doesn’t register to people, just a face in the crowd, just another part of Gotham, and it’s... Look, Jason’s not complaining that he’s not being arrested or having people run screaming at the sight of him. He can’t even say they’re ignoring him because people will still look up, say their greetings, whatever when he walks through a door, or grunt when they walk into him. But something about the way people brush past him, the certainty nobody will remember him after their interaction is finished, hurts.

(The only way for Jason to be remembered, to leave an impression on the people around him, is to become part of a legend once again.)

Revenants come back for a reason, and Jason’s is to kill his murderer. But he’s part of Gotham proper now, and unlike Bruce, Jason can’t leave. He tries to, he drives all the way to Arkham in a hot-wired car, but he’s still a good half mile away before the pain becomes too much and Jason’s forced to turn the car around or risk crashing when he inevitably passes out. This Jason never trains with the League of Assassins, but he doesn’t need to; no Lazarus Pit needed to fix his mind, and his undead body can take a lot more punishment than any living human could.

(I have this mental image of Jason going back to Wayne Manor, right on the edge of discomfort-not-pain outside of the city proper, and needing to spill so many identifying secrets to Alfred to get Alfred to even let him through the door. Bruce is out of the country, so Alfred calls Dick to please come help him verify their visitor’s identity. Dick has no idea who this stranger in their living room is, until he closes his eyes and focuses on the magic. Dives in deep, letting the resonance of Gotham’s soul wrap around him, and is surprised to find it so much clearer & louder than it should be this far from the city’s heart. Louder than it’s ever been since Jason---

Dick opens his eyes, and his breath catches in his throat as he finally recognizes the face staring at him with so much raw hope.)

Anyway, Bruce refuses to kill the Joker even harder when he finds out Jason is back, because he’s terrified that the moment Jason’s unfinished business is done, Jason will go back to being properly dead.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Okay, last stop: Tim! The only member of the family to be fully supernatural, non-human from the start.

Tim is a changeling. Specifically, he’s a fae who was born without the spellcasting abilities most fae have, so he was traded for a human child. Tim has no memory of the fae courts or his home mound, but he’s a smart cookie and it wasn’t hard to do the math.

Tim can’t lie. He has to keep his promises and he can’t help but keep track of debts (the kindest people in his life will give him quick, easy ways to repay them; a cool rock Tim found, or an interesting bit of information. Tim doesn’t like to hold debts over others most of the time, and will offer similar outs or just tell himself the next nice thing they do for him makes them even.)

Tim can’t cross salt lines or thresholds with horseshoes above them.

Tim can’t touch iron or silver without burning his skin.

Eating non-iodized salt makes Tim sick.

If Tim speaks someone’s full name as part of a command, they will do what he tells them to (other people don’t usually realize this, because they aren’t forced violently; their own minds usually try to find ways to justify what they’re doing.)

If someone has a piece of Tim’s body (like hair, blood, or nail-clippings) Tim’s brain goes into panic mode as quickly as if they held a knife to his throat.

Those are the obvious giveaways that point straight to fae. Tim’s inhumanity can also be found in minute details of his physicality.

Tim’s eyes glow in the dark.

The tips of Tim’s ears are pointed.

Tim has never lost a tooth (but his parents had his eye-teeth removed when he was eight.)

Tim’s nails grow in tough & black as pitch. (He’s gotten in trouble many times at school for painting them, despite the doctor’s note explaining it.)

Hidden under Tim’s hair, his scalp grows thick, curved thorns like a rosebush. (His mother sits him down in the bathroom the day before company comes over, and meticulously removes them with a pair of nail clippers. It hurts. They bleed. Tim’s learned not to squirm or show how much he hate it. It hurts worse if anyone messes with Tim’s hair afterwards, but he’s learned not to show that either.)

And, of course, there’s the biggest giveaway of all:

In all Tim’s pictures before the single trip his parents ever took him on (a whirlwind tour of Europe just before his 2nd birthday,) Tim’s eyes were hazel-brown.

They’re blue now.

(Tim tells himself his parents leave him behind and push him away because they can sense something is off about him, but that they don’t know what. He tells himself they didn’t notice when the fae stole their son away, that the real Timothy Drake would’ve grown up doted on & treasured, traveling the world with them, seeing the sights. Tim tries not to think about how Drake Industries was spiraling before they took that trip, or how it stabilized before they even made it home.)

Tim still becomes Robin, barely resisting Name-commanding his way into the role (it wouldn’t be right, it wouldn’t be honest, he needs Bruce to trust Tim if Bruce is ever going to get better.)

Gotham itself sees Tim as an interloper, but when Tim is Robin it can’t do anything about that. When Jason comes back, Tim sets off all his red-flag alarms, and all he can see is an alien parasite trying to worm its way into his family. It won’t be until Jason saves Tim from supernatural poachers who try to torture Tim’s Name out of him (fruitless in the first place, Tim doesn’t know his own Name,) that they’ll be able to move past that. Gotham can project its suspicions & paranoia through Jason, but how Jason chooses to see Tim will also affect Gotham.

(Someday, Damian will find Tim’s eye-teeth and return them to him as a birthday gift. It will be the kindest single act anyone has ever done for him, as Tim feels safe & whole for the first time since they were taken. Nevermind that they’re in a jewelry box and not Tim’s body, he has his teeth back, and nobody can take them ever again.

Tim will struggle to tell Damian that Tim can’t even begin to express how much this means to him. In the end, Tim just tells Damian, “Thank you. I owe you.”

Dangerous words, with no limit on the debt.

Damian will blink, realize what Tim’s answer really means, and scoff. “Don’t be stupid. It’s a gift. You don’t owe me anything, that’s how gifts work.”)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 

Basically everyone else has the same stories they do in canon, but with a little less dying. I’ve given dying so much more weight in this AU, so like, Steph doesn’t die, Damian doesn’t die, etc.

Damian does inherit Bruce’s curse/burden when Bruce is lost in time, though. Dick helps him learn to manage it, on top of everything else.

[starsofarda]

I am going to pretend that an era of men has not passed, because time does not exist and my brain hamsters were hyperocusing on different stuff ANYWAY.

It's time I continued with the comparisons made by @tolkien-feels started in this post here: https://starsofarda.tumblr.com/post/699114521219973120/tolkien-feels

Today we are going to compare Lothlorien and Nargothrond.

Under cut!

LOTHLORIEN AND NARGOTHROND

Galadriel, sister of Finrod: Well if you can get inside my realm you're under my protection, but it's also entirely possible my guards will shoot you dead the second you cross into my land, so roll the dice - @tolkien-feels

Again we are going to establish what are these places, why they were built and who lived/lives there.

Boy oh boy, this is gonna be A LOT to unpack.

We are pretty much in the middle of the Siege of Angband and we can point at Ulmo for being the motus primum that started Finrod Felagund to look for a hidden place. Anyway, Finrod did bring with him his sister Galadriel and again I am not surprised that Galadriel did the same as her brother.

Anyway.

Finrod and Galadriel travel, meet up with Thingol who gives them directions for the Caves of Narog and Finrod, who very much is impressed with what Thingol did with Doriath, does the same with these caves.

He was helped by the Dwarves, eventually got his epithet of Felagund.

And honestly I think that Nargothrond was one of the best protected areas, but it fell due to what I would call hubris. And also inaction, never forget Orodreth The Useless.

There are also several cursed people happening, namely Turin Turambar, Beren and Luthien and two of Feanor's sons, namely Celegorm and Curufin.

And also Glaurung.

And I think the amount of people who contributed to Nargothrond's fall was what prompted Galadriel to build Lothlorien the way she did and guard it the way she did.

This is a bit of speculation, but maybe she thought that Finrod had been way too trusting, and that lead to his death and later to the fall of Nargothrond.

I mean, let us think of the people who dwelled in Nargothrond.

Curufin and Celegorm: exiled after the Dagor Bragollach, the moment they hear the word "Silmarillion" they stop using their brains and start channelling their inner Feanor.

Orodreth (the Useless), the one who literally fled Minas Tirith rather than facing Morgoth, the one who literally threw away the crown offered to him when Finrod went with Beren to Angband and had to be convinced.

Beren and Luthien only "passed by", but let us not forget that Celegorm kidnapped Luthien twice.

Turin Turambar: the Cursed One, responsible for building the bridge that ultimately contributed to the destruction of Nargothrond by Glaurung. Righteous, but he kills te wrong people all the time.

I guess that Galadriel, having seen and heard what happened to Nargothrond, did suffer like a minor to major PTSD in that sense, so when she finally got to Lothlorien I think her stream of consciousness went something like:

My brother finrod had the right idea

We need to improve on that tho

Too many people were there meddling in the Nargothrond

Yes, sure, people might be welcome, but also the moment I catch a whiff of bitch I am killing them, no questions asked

There should be a post about Galadriel and her very understandable trust issues, but I think I can link that to how Lothlorien was built.

That with the fact that Galadriel can see into people's minds* plays a lot in making Lothlorien absolutely impenetrable. With all of this I think I get why Galadriel's reputation outside of the elvish realm is not exactly positive.

And I am not sure that this all makes sense, but this is what I personally gather. Comments, suggestions and responses are more than welcome!

---

*well, this deserves a post on its own, but let me have this because I am not yet equipped to discuss semantics.

[nokingsonlyfooles]

Wow. Jesus.

I remember when I could just watch the Daily Show and chuckle. Are you old enough to remember consuming political media uncritically? (You hypothetical people who will never see this or interact meaningfully with it because that's not how this place works?) Given a few basic boundaries that went uncrossed, I could assume I was laughing and clapping for basically decent people who meant well and made some human mistakes.

I can't do that anymore.

Even with Jon Stewart's stellar delivery, I can't follow a team of writers who ask me to buy "the justice system determines the truth..." (even the first part of that thesis is: Wha? Buh?) "...better than the media." I WILL GRANT YOU THE MEDIA ARE TERRIBLE AT DETERMINING THE TRUTH! But the Daily Show isn't exempt from that because it's funny. Look! Donald Trump finally got convicted for a thing! We found the truth! It works!

OK, did we find the truth all those other times he got off with his money and lawyers and media friends? Oh, we didn't, huh? Are we secure that Bill Clinton is a free man because he's never done anything worth putting him away for, not even on the Lolita Express? How 'bout that time he "didn't inhale"? That's enough to put a poor minority away, but not a rich, white politician.

It works? Sometimes it works. Like the media. Ya know what people do with a source that coughs up the truth only sometimes? They don't fuckin trust it. And they don't suggest other untrustworthy sources could be improved by coughing up the truth only sometimes - but in a different way!

You remember having battery-operated toys that didn't charge up? You needed to change the batteries, remember that? They'd stop working, and sometimes you could turn them off and on again, and get a little twitch and a chirp. That twitch-and-chirp didn't mean the batteries were OK now. It didn't mean the toy was gonna work next time, or ever again. The US system of justice isn't working just because you got one verdict you like. That's a fuckin insult to everyone we've incarcerated or killed based on lies.

If the premise is flawed and contrary to reality, people should be laughing at that. I can get behind Colbert Report style, straight-faced delivery of absurd lines, but that's not what's going on here. "The media should get at the truth like the courts" is an occasion for "Woo! Yeah!"

But that's not very significant. The media isn't going to litigate the truth with lawyers and judges and fines for violators. It would be a lateral move it if did. What's a little more pressing to me is REPUDIATING A COWARD'S ASYLUM BAN THAT RELIES ON UNATTAINABLE STANDARDS FOR AN EXCUSE TO VIOLATE INTERNATIONAL LAW.

Hence, the second segment, wherein the punchline is NOT the idea that if I'm not willing to let that slide, I need a "reality check." I don't even think I'm supposed to find "immigrants need to come here the right way" from the mouth of an immigrant (who would've once been subjected to the goddamn Chinese Exclusion Act) as particularly funny, hence the gags about being smuggled into the country and passing as Jackie Chan. I see immigrants trying to pull up the ladder all the damn time, folks. That's not absurd enough on its own. I need better delivery of the line if I'm supposed to read it as satire. So does everyone else, 'cause they ain't laughin much.

The idea that we need to let Biden violate (keep violating, if we're being fair) international law because an "insecure border" is unpopular isn't getting a lot of yuks either. The audience and the writers are sharing a brain worm, or willing to pretend for the cameras, and that premise zips by without protest. Even the fucking centrist apologist AP figured out this is a blatant political manoeuvre that ain't gonna "secure" shit. Nor will it convince conservatives that Biden is a tough, white nationalist daddy who deserves their votes. You could've made some darkly hilarious jokes about that.

I fled up here because my country of origin started stealing children. I helped elect Biden because I bought that he'd cut that shit out. He didn't. It's slower and subtler, but he didn't stop. And here's some more shit.

There is no excuse for genocide, that, alone, is enough. The silence, complicity, and willingness to stampede rightwards if the Democrats say that's the only way to win is just a cherry on top. But I don't like that either. It's not like the genocide is so distracting I no longer notice the original issues that caused me to GTFO. If the only way to "save Democracy" is to keep Democrats in power no matter what they do, that's not democracy. If they can't lose elections, there are no longer any nonviolent consequences for the voters to apply. If you're gonna Vote Blue No Matter What, start filling up Molotovs now. Otherwise, define a line and decide what crosses it, and stick to that. I've hit my limit. If it goes on like this, you will eventually hit yours too.

[mama-mystery]

Hello my lovely Librarians! I realize it got pretty quiet for no reason around here and I’ve honestly been trying to figure out how to write this update, because it’s a pretty heavy life update. But, I want to be transparent with all of you, because getting to write my weird fiction around here and hang out with all of you is deeply meaningful to me. This community, the one here at the Unrequited Library, and the broader kink community, is near and dear to my heart.

If you’re not into the heavy life updates, also feel free to skip this one. We’re going to hit some CW content in it, including death, infertility, politics, transgender issues… the works, really.

Where we last left off…

I got very excited for Mayternity this year and laid out an exciting plan of events, including stories, streams, and a World of Horror mod. However, as I’m sure folks noticed, about 2 weeks into the schedule I got off-track. 3 weeks into the schedule, and I was very far behind.

What I wasn’t saying out loud was that a close family friend had very unexpectedly passed away and my uncle was diagnosed with terminal brain cancer in the same week. I had also, at the literal same time, got a new job to replace the one I had lost at Threshold Games.

The new job was very exciting and needed; my partner and I wanted to move into our own place and attempt to set down roots again. We have been staying with friends for the last year and while we are very, very, very, very thankful for their help, we also did not wish to continue to stick ourselves in their home.

A very large amount had suddenly shifted in my life, both bad and good, but all of it very much sucked my attention away from here and anything I was doing creatively. I tried to look up and be hopeful while all of this was going on, but I’ll be honest, the sudden whiplash of change was hard to go through. There were days where I felt like I was just trodding slowly through mud. Missing story deadlines just made me feel worse.

It’s been a long year

For many reasons, the last year has been very hard for me to go through. I keep counting my blessings that I am supported by a wonderful partner and caring, patient friends, because I do not think I could do any of what I do without them in my life.

Leaving Texas, as I’ve said before, was a very important thing for me and my partner to do. As the Governor and Congress of that state has continued to make it a priority to pass laws against people like me, things slowly became more dangerous. Only a few months before we moved, a transgender woman was assaulted at the Target where my partner and I bought our groceries. That’s just a taste of what things were getting like.

Leaving the state, however, came with some pretty severe stipulations which I don’t think I’ve explained out loud before. While my partner and I were very successful in saving money and you Librarians were very kind in helping us out via DeviantArt and Twitch, the other half of the moving funds were what little savings I had left after COVID. We bought as big of a shipping container as we could, we loaded it up with what we could fit, and we left 75% of our stuff behind. No way we could take everything.

We fled. And while we were on the road up from the south, we noticed we were not the only cars driving northward with LGBTQIA+ or transgender stickers and a trunk full of stuff. Apparently we weren’t the only ones with this idea. Thinking of that is still heartbreaking to me.

Losing the rest of my savings meant we’ve been starting from scratch since last year. Again, I cannot thank my friends enough for letting us stay with them during this time; without their assistance, my partner and I could not have afforded our own place. Losing my job was, as you could guess, a significant blow. We were already running on an empty tank, and losing our source of stability was tough. My partner is disabled and can’t work, so everything rides on me maintaining my job in an industry that’s notoriously unstable.

Grief is wicked, and heavy

Losing my savings also meant something else that I’ve been quiet about until right now: I don’t know if I can have the chance to start my own family anymore. It may now be financially impossible.

For a long time, I tried to keep an open mind about starting a family. I wanted to see how I felt, and if I could push myself up to the task. I didn’t want to say no to having kids, but I also didn’t want to say yes. I wanted to make sure I could provide a great life for a kid if I had one, after all. I wanted to be able to set down roots, save up funds for adoption, find a nice community, get a house… you know, basic life goals.

When we fled from Texas, all of that went out the door. None of those things are possible in a community that is actively antagonistic against myself and my partner. I would never, ever want a child of mine to be a target for hate.

I have been grieving the potential loss of my dreams. I have to face the fact that I’m older, my time is starting to get shorter to do things like this, and I don’t know if I have the runway left. I want to try and I will try, but I know that it will be nothing short of an uphill battle. It may not end with the ending I desire. I may never be an actual mom… I’ll just play one on the internet.

All of this together with the recent death and caretaking has made writing pregnancy/belly content extremely hard. It’s something I normally love to write and create, but it just feels like all of my energy has been stolen. That I’m writing a dream I’ll never be able to have. There’s a name for all this, of course: Infertility grief.

I can definitely confirm it sucks. Especially when one of your pieces of happiness is being a broodmother of a kitsune. I know my eagerness to do this stuff will return, but it’s going to take some time.

But it’s not all bad

I can’t end this update on gloom though. While this year and particularly May and June were hard, July has been getting a little easier. My partner and I recently moved into our own place - a small townhouse in Connecticut - and we picked up our dog from her foster parents. (More thanks to our friends who watched our dog for the last year when we couldn’t have her!) We’re starting to set down our roots again.

I’m no longer living with many other roommates too, which means I have privacy again. I haven’t been doing as many photos or visual content for the last year because I wanted to respect the other people around me, but having our own place means I have more freedom to create kink.

I’ve also been working closely with a specifically trained therapist over the past few months too, and am going to continue doing that. She’s been helping me work through all of this, as hard as it has been, and I’m thankful I have access to great healthcare up here in Connecticut. It’s much, much better than what I was finding in Texas. Having that level of support in this period of time is so very, very important.

Finally… the big update that my partner is really excited about… I was approved to get breast augmentation this year and my insurance covers it. 😈 IT IS TIME!!!!! I’ll definitely have more updates to share on that in the future, and I’m gonna talk about how the process works, but I am so very excited!

Annnndddd double finally… because I somehow went this entire update without mentioning SizeCon… the SizeCon staff’s still been doing things in the background. A TON of things. COMPLICATED THINGS, even. I didn’t exactly STOP working on any of that stuff during all of this, and they’ve definitely been busting their butts.

Yes, there will be an announcement coming from SizeCon soon. Yes, you should be excited. It’s quite… big? Big’s a good way to put it.

So what about Mayternity and Unrequited Library Season 2? What about my subscription?

With all of that now said, let’s get down to the important stuff: the content. What am I gonna do about the content?

While we’re off schedule, half of Season 2 is written and the World of Horror mod is mostly done, it just needs two final art adjustments and some additional QA time that I haven’t gotten to do yet. There’s no way I’m going to leave this stuff on the floor.

But, here’s the thing, I can’t guarantee a good publishing schedule for a subscription going forward, at least for a bit. If that changes how you want to support the Library, I completely understand and I encourage you to change your subscription plan.

I’m going to slowly wheel out the Mayternity and Season 2 content as I can, under our normal Library Rules: Subscribers will have first access to the story for two weeks. After that, it goes into the public folder and on Swell Tales.

When the Season wraps up, the stories will be available for a period of time to everyone before being thrown back into the Restricted Section and given to subscribers.

Again, thank you for all of your patience during the last few months, and I apologize for the silence. I’m going to continue to work on myself and better myself, so you can have the best possible broodmother back in the Library, ready to go on an adventure at the drop of a switch. <3

~Mystery