#freckle sibling rights

[parroset]

Some more silly nonsense with these two, because I missed them. Aaravos does have a point, you know.

[grapecaseschoices]

This is Isyl, Amryl's sibling!

Originally my plan for Isyl was that Isyl [I haven't decided on pronouns lmao. Leave me alone. Isn't telling me what Isyl is. Isyl exists. Isyl is Durge jkjk ..... Isyl's pronouns are Cleric [of Lathander]!] was that Isyl was either raised by an off-shoot of lawful good/neutral Duerges that learned about Lathander [family members maybe?] or kidnapped by one, so basically kinda cult? BUT THEN I got the idea of Isyl was stolen by the Society of Brilliance.

But then I got this great idea of testing Isyl out as a durge, and now here we are. OG Isyl was very very sweet, despite loss of memories [or maybe because of] -- but duerge's have too many good asshole responses so this might change. IDK we shall see. I haven't played Isyl as much after I decided to shuffle my polyam plans from Isyl to Amryl.

[neo-nomatrix]

In a world of boys, he’s a gentleman

Luke Castellan x Apollo kid!reader

word count: a little over 1k

summary: you’ve had your heart broken many times, maybe the Hermes boy will be different

You have only ever wanted to be loved. For whatever reason you haven’t had much luck. Sure, there were many guys.

Callum from Ares. The only thing hotter than him was his temper.

Ryan from Hephaestus. He would forge copper to make you jewelry, little did you know three other girls had the same gift.

Ezra from Athena. Always thought he was so much smarter and better than you. Made you want to shoot your arrow straight at him.

Aiden from Hermes. A liar who couldn’t take anything seriously.

Elliott from Ares. Was dared by Callum to lock you in a dark room. And he actually listened.

Being the child of Apollo had its perks, but it more often had downsides. Your least favorite being your ability to fall in love so easily. After Elliot you swore off falling in love. A pain even you couldn’t heal. You couldn’t understand why nothing seemed to work out for you, you were a dreamboat!

A beautiful daughter of Apollo who glowed like the sun. Not only were you his daughter, you were his favorite, the hundreds of freckles on your face proved it. You were kind and generous, always willing to take in an injured camper from dusk to dawn. Your smile quite literally lit up a room. Perhaps you were too nice? Maybe they thought they could take advantage of your kindness?

Whatever the reason was doesn’t matter. You decided to take a page from your aunt Artemis’ book. No more boys, no more falling in love. Things will be easier this way. You know it.

You should’ve been at the bonfire with everyone else. You chose to skip it tonight because you wished to be alone, at the archery range. Maybe you’d earn another freckle if Apollo saw you practicing your already perfect shot. Luke should’ve been at the bonfire too, singing with your half-siblings and roasting marshmallows.

“Hey! I need some help!” A deep, painful cry said.

Immediately worried, you turned around and saw Luke Castellan holding his abdomen. You immediately run over to him, taking his arm over yours and getting to your cabin as soon as possible. You decided the infirmary was too far and you could use the cot in your cabin.

You slam through the cabin door and lay him on the cot in the middle of the bunk beds. “Lay down.”

You pull up his blood stained orange shirt to reveal a large gash on the side of his toned stomach. You held your hand on his abdomen for a moment to assess what happened. A second degree burn and large slices, as if by a horn, caused this.

“How did this happen?” You ask as you start to transfer some of the pain to a potted plant, causing it to wilt.

“Accident with a hephaestus kid, wrong place, wrong time I guess,” He says slightly wincing.

“I can take most of the pain but it’ll still take a while to heal,” You explain.

“Weren’t you supposed to be at the bonfire, leading a song with the rest of your cabin?” He asks.

“I could ask you the same thing, wandering around the blacksmiths. You know those things they make are pretty hot right?” You scoff at him.

“Yeah I guess I do now,” he rolls his eyes.

You begin to bandage the wound and give him a slice of bread. “Bread? What the hell is this gonna do?” he questions.

“My sister Melody made it, it can heal the burns for the most part,” you say.

“Aren’t you the girl who dated Aiden?” He asks bluntly, taking a bite of the bread.

“That’s none of your business,” You roll your eyes.

“If you ask me-” he begins to say before you cut him off.

“I’m not.”

“He was an idiot. All those guys were. I mean seriously, didn’t anyone teach them how to treat a pretty girl?” He continues, not fazed by you interrupting him.

“All those guys? You know about them?” You question.

“I guess. I mean after word got out about that shithead Elliot I did some asking,” he shrugs. You frown at the mention of Elliot.

“Whatever, they’re all in the past. No more guys for me,” you tell him.

“You shouldn’t give up entirely, these guys are stupid. There’s someone out there who deserves you, trust,” He assures you.

“Oh yeah? Tell me when you meet him,” You laugh.

“I think i know a guy, actually,” He responds, sitting up slightly.

“Oh yeah? Do tell.”

“Well, he’s tall, tan, and goddamn gorgeous. Has these soft brown curls, and I heard he’s the best swordsman at camp. Perfect for the best archer,” He explains to you, smiling.

“You seem to be fond of him, maybe you should go date him,” You joke.

“Nah, I think he likes this girl from Apollo. Kind, generous, beautiful, best healer and archer around,” He locks eyes with yours, darting between your eyes and your lips.

He holds your face in his hand, circling his thumb. His shirt rides up exposing his stomach and bandages.

“You like what you see?” He teases.

“You’re an idiot,” You smile.

“That seems to be your type,” he shrugs and knits his brows.

Before you can say another word he presses a kiss against your lips, moving them softly against yours. One of his hands stays on your neck while the other ventures down to your waist and then the chair you sat in. He pulls the chair closer to him and puts his hand back on your waist. You move one of your hands to his knee and the other to right beside him, leaning in closer.

“Fuck, you’re amazing,” He’s whispers into the kiss.

You smile at him before pausing. “The bonfire’s almost over, maybe you should head back,” you say.

“Yeah probably,” he gives you one last hard kiss followed by another few pecks.

He stands up and steadys himself, the injury clearly still pains him. He starts to walk away but before he can leave he turns back to you and presses a few more kisses against you.

“Okay, I’m done. y’know for now,” he smirks.

“You’re welcome anytime,” You laugh and he leaves. He gives you two looks before exiting.

Maybe you’ll give this boy one more chance.

[rin-may-1103]

Biggest Regret. (Part Two)

Previous | Master Post | Next

Bruce had finally found a peaceful moment to sit down and go through his work emails; there were no sibling homicide fights, prank wars, and thankfully no vigilante-related headaches.

Just a peaceful afternoon; normal polluted Gotham skies, the usual city ruckus of honking horns and shouting, and the constant footsteps back and forth past his closed office door.

taking a sip from his old mug, Bruce opened his laptop. Quickly typing in his password for the hour, he made his way to his email. surprisingly, less than 90 emails were waiting for him. Usually, he had hundreds to go through.

hmmm. Another check for this being a suspiciously good day then, it just made him more anxious for when the other shoe would fall.

peaceful for Gotham, for him, never meant anything good. It always happened right before a tragic event or large-scale Arkham breakout. he could hope for it to just be a peaceful day, but he knew wishful thinking was useless.

taking another sip, Bruce started scrolling through his emails, reading the subject lines to sort through which ones were more important. After a few minutes of reading, Bruce stopped and reread the second to last email's title, his eyebrows furrowing:

A Video From Your Son.

Now, Bruce was truly confused; Why would one of his kids email him? let alone through his public work email? They've been told multiple times to email him through the bat-email if it contains anything important or time-sensitive. Heck, they've been told to just text him it if it was important, he always answers a text faster than an email.

His Bruce Wayne email was notoriously ignored for multiple days; mostly for his cover story, but also because he spends most of his time doing Batman stuff. (Reading Wayne Enterprises emails usually wasn't something at the top of his list, the kids know this.)

so, then why would one of them email him?

hmm. maybe? maybe one of the boys set up a long-term prank or something. They know how long it takes for him to read his emails, so maybe they sent it knowing it would take a while, which means they had plenty of time to set something up.

yes, that's it. it makes total sense.

Clicking on the email, he was greeted with a boy (who looked a lot like Damian, but who most certainly wasn't) sitting gravely on a wooden box in some dark warehouse.

sitting up straight, Bruce set his mug down and studied the paused video. the boy looked so much like Damian that Bruce almost wanted to believe he was a clone. but his bright stern blue eyes and and apparent freckles pushed the idea away.

Yes, clones can have imperfections, especially when made in a rush, but never something as drastic as the wrong eye color or a genetic quality the one being cloned didn't have. Unless, the one making the clone had no idea what they were doing, but Bruce doubted Talia would have allowed someone to take Damian's DNA before he was given to Bruce.

and the boy on screen had scars, lots of scars, meaning if he was a clone then he was made before Bruce even knew of Damian.

hmm.

there were no clues provided in the kid's surroundings; the warehouse was surprisingly empty of anything important or telling. the kid had even chosen a spot where Bruce couldn't tell if it was day or night, or if the lights were on. which took away the usual ways of figuring out where the boy was.

No sky meant he couldn't calculate the general area based on season and celestial bodies. And because he couldn't tell if the light was from industrial lighting or daylight, he couldn't cross out warehouses with electricity. The kid was smart. smarter than the average citizen at least.

he was also wearing discreet clothing; which meant Bruce couldn't trace him through that either.

leaning forward so he could rest his elbows on his knees, Bruce pressed play and gave the video his full attention.

The boy on screen sat in silence for a moment, seemingly gathering his thoughts. his hands rested in his lap, his poster rather relaxed as he sat on his wooden crate.

"This is video eight." the boy spoke, his voice rough with sleepless nights and yelling. Did he yell at people often? or had he gotten into a fight previously? there were seven other videos, but this was the first one Bruce saw. he'd have to go back and see if he had somehow missed them.

"don't worry, you didn't miss anything." the boy chuckled humorously, running one of his hands through his hair. Bruce noted that it shook, the kid was probably nervous, or hungry. the kid looked too skinny to be healthy...

"no, this is just the eighth time I've had to record this." the boy continued, dropping his hand back into his lap as he slumped forward, his black hair falling into his face.

"this video," he continued, not glancing up, "is for Bruce Wayne's eyes only."

there were still no visual tells on where the boy was, not even audio cues for Bruce to study. frowning, Bruce rested his head on his hands, taking in everything the boy said.

"Hi Dad," Bruce sucked in a breath, tensing up as the kid finally glanced back at the camera.

"I'm Danny. you likely don't know I exist, and if you're receiving this; I'm already dead." he chuckled like the thought of his death was laughable. "well, more dead than I already was." he snorted, shaking his head in a way that reminded Bruce of Damian when he was exasperated or disappointed.

"Maybe it's cruel of me to send you a message post-mortem," Danny, the kid's name is Danny, looked away. He rubbed his neck awkwardly as he continued, "But you deserve the truth, and telling you earlier would've put you in danger."

Danny let out a breath as he pulled his legs up onto the crate, "this email is set to automatically send if I haven't opened my laptop for three days. I sometimes set it longer if I'm expecting trouble or going to be away for a while, but I've most likely been away from home for a bit over three days if you're receiving this."

Danny looked so tired as he looked back at the camera, the dark bags under his eyes worse than even Tim's after a week-long investigation.

"I don't know who killed me. Obviously, I'm recording this in advance... I have my suspicions though. it was most likely either the GIW or my adoptive parents, the Fentons." Danny reached beside him and held up a two pictures, "This is Maddie and Jack Fenton, and this," another picture, "is some GIW agents."

Danny snorted as he glanced at the GIW agents, their startled faces slightly blurry as Danny stood in front of them and took a selfie. bruce wasn't sure if he was amused or not that the kid took a selfie with his potential murderers but then again, Bruce could see all of his children doing it too. (Bruce could also see himself doing it.)

"i half-died at 14," Danny suddenly added, tossing the pictures to the side. "became the local ghost superhero..."

he stared off to the side for a moment, "but they never realized I was trying to help and kept talking about tearing ghost me apart molecule by molecule." Danny glanced back at the camera before his eyes widened, "my parents! I mean, my parents and the GIW wanted to tear me apart, not the town! though they probably wouldn't have disagreed with it if asked..."

"anyway," Danny shook his head, "my money's on that being what happened..." Danny looked down at his hands like he was seeing them for the first time, "there will be nothing left of me to bury..."

"Sorry about that!" he suddenly added, a bright smile on his face. Bruce could tell it was strained, forced in hopes of not upsetting him.

"you'd probably have to cremate me if there was, it'd be a waste of wood to get me a coffin... though I'd really prefer if I wasn't set on fire," Danny chuckled, trying to hide a full-body shiver.

He sat in silence for a moment before Danny continued, "The rest of the story is this: I was raised in an assassin cult, eventually escaping at the age of nine. they sent me on a mission and I just had to take the opportunity. I successfully faked my death."

Danny sat up now, fully focusing on the camera, "My biggest regret is that I escaped alone. And that's the reason I'm reaching out to you."

Danny let his feet fall off the edge as he grabbed something from next to him, keeping it out of view for now. "you're a civilian," Danny stated like it was a fact he knew to be true.

Bruce clenched his jaw, trying to keep himself still so he could focus on what Danny was telling him. he wished he could reach through the screen and hold the boy, whether he was his son or not, he obviously was talking about the league which meant Talia hadn't told him.

Talia hadn't told him, and if he was anything like Damian, then he would have no reason to believe otherwise.

"If you know too much about the League of Assassins you'll be in danger, but I need you to save my twin Damian." Danny's words were like a final nail in the coffin, the final straw to keeping his heart from breaking again.

it was true, it had to be. How would Danny have this information otherwise?

"he's likely still there after all these years. he never wanted to escape; he took pride in being the heir to the league. he's probably going to be stabby: he's an assassin after all, but it's not his fault. Ra's, our grandfather, indoctrinated him a lot more successfully than he did me. Damian was more susceptible to it... it's not his fault." Danny repeated, clenching the object he had grabbed.

"Please," Danny pleaded, "save him. I'm begging you. My biggest regret is leaving Damian in the league. You have a chance to save him. Please, please take it."

Danny bit his lip and glanced down at his lap, "I w-," he quickly glanced around before shaking his head, "I long for a time when it would have been safe for me to get to know you. You seem like a cool dad, from what I've seen of you on the news with your oldest kids."

he looked up with a water smile, "I bet you're like that with the youngest you hide from the public too. I still don't know how you managed that, it's been six years." Danny chuckled, wiping the tears from his eyes.

"This is my, um, my old league sigil." Danny held up the object he had been holding, revealing a golden disk with thick rope connected to it. it had the demon head's symbol on it.

"A coat of arms. I'll leave it somewhere for you. hopefully, you can use it to get to Damian." Danny gently placed it back on the box. "I'm keeping it in a box in the walls of my room. You should be able to find it."

"I wish you and your family the best," Danny sniffed, looking back at the camera. "thank you for listening. From your long lost almost certainly dead by now son, Danny Fenton."

Bruce stared at the paused video for a minute, just trying to process everything he just saw. he needed confirmation, he knew it was true, it had to be, there's no way Danny could fake this. but Bruce needed to confirm. make sure he isn't seeing things.

absently, Bruce pulled out his phone and dialed his youngest's, was he still the youngest? or was Danny? number.

the tone didn't even ring longer than five seconds before his son's voice echoed into the silent office, "Father."

"Damian, did you have a twin named Danny?" Bruce asked, not cutting around the bush.

dead silence, he couldn't even hear Damian's breath.

then, "...Who told you?"

Damian's voice wasn't angry or fearful, it was sad and confused and wavered like the last leaf on a tree clinking on for dear life in a blizzard. it cemented the break in Bruce's heart as he stared at the tearful face of his son, his son who claimed to be dead already.

hanging up, Bruce quickly sent the video to Damian and waited. he needed a minute to process what just happened. Clicking play, Bruce rewatched the video, hoping to find another clue.

Damian called back a few minutes later, the sound of Danny's voice echoing in the background telling Bruce his son had watched and rewatched the video just like he had.

"Father. I do not care what state he is in, even if there is only a single molecule left. I'm going to bring him home. We must discover exactly what happened to Danny, the truth."

"I couldn't agree more, Damian," Bruce grunted, standing up. Pushing his chair in, he turned his laptop off and made his way to his office door. "I'll be home soon, gather the others. tell them all hands on deck."

"yes, Father," Robin replied, hanging up not even a second later.

Shoving his phone in his pocket and opening his office door, Batman started making his way home.

Next

[letsgetrowdy43]

Love on the lake—

Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader

Request: 🐞 Quinn isn't usually a touchy person but when he gets with the reader he is all over her "Never figured you for this much of a cuddler."

Warnings/notes: It's a cold start, couldn't quite think of a better intro so please ignore that!

End of summer celebration!!

One of Quinn's hands gently held her hips flush to him as he steered the boat, a grin on his face as her hands placed themselves over his on the steering wheel. "You're doing really good," he mumbled into her ear, followed by a kiss on her freckled cheek right before he explained the importance of the water markings. Her back pressed against his toned chest as he taught her how to steer the boat, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth as she nodded at his instructions before he removed her hands and let her take control.

His hands began to roam her sides, sending goosebumps down her warm skin as he began playing with the little red bows on the hips of her bikini bottoms which gained a groan from his brothers in the background who had been tortured with Quinn's affection towards his girlfriend since she arrived in Michigan earlier in the week.

Sometimes, it was as if his brothers ceased to exist the moment she appeared. This, of course, led to many agonizing moments for his younger siblings.

Quinn wasn’t usually one for public displays of affection, especially not around his family. But now as he sat with his girlfriend prettily on his lap in the captain's chair of the boat, his arm wrapped securely around her, he couldn’t help himself.

He was completely, unabashedly, all over her, and he didn’t care who saw it.

Jack and Luke, who were both sprawled out on the opposite side of the boat, couldn’t help but notice the giddiness that seemed to occupy Quinn's demeanour. Jack shot his older brother a look, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief at his shameless roaming hands.

“Never figured you for this much of a cuddler, Q-ball,” he teased his tone light but with that signature smirk Quinn knew all too well, all the while his girlfriend's face broke out a red flush. Luke chimed in, nudging Jack with his elbow. “Yeah, who knew Quinn had a soft side? What happened to your mysterious act?”

Quinn rolled his eyes but couldn’t wipe the grin off his face as the girl leaned further into his hold, face buried in his neck as she hid the slight embarrassment of being caught.

Normally, Quinn might have been a little annoyed at their jabs, but today he was too content to care. “You guys are just jealous,” he shot back, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles on her thigh.

She laughed softly, tilting her head to look at him with a smile that made his heart do that weird fluttery thing it always did when she was around. “I didn’t realize I was dating such a softie,” she teased, her voice full of affection and a little sultry as she dipped down to press a kiss to his lips, eliciting a cry of agony from his little brothers. "You changed me for the better I fear," he said lowly as he looked up and waved off at the boat passing by.

Jack leaned back, folding his arms behind his head as he shot Quinn a knowing look. “Man, you’re in deep,” he said with a laugh. "It's pretty sad,” Luke agreed, chuckling as he shook his head before ridding himself of his shirt and diving into the lake.

He looked down at her, the warmth in his chest growing as she smiled back at him. No words were needed—just a simple look that solidified the unspoken connection between them, something that resembled love that ran deeper than anything words could convey.

The day got hotter as the laughter and playful banter of his brothers echoed around them. But for Quinn, all that mattered was the girl in his arms, the way she fit so perfectly against him, and the simple, undeniable fact that he was exactly where he wanted to be.

And as the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow over the water, Quinn leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, his brothers’ teasing forgotten. He was content, truly happy, in a way he hadn’t expected. And even though this wasn’t typical for him, he found that he loved every minute of it.

Because with her, being a little out of character felt like the most natural thing in the world.

-

-

-

[valsdelulucorner]

obey me headcannons because why not

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

Lucifer is so strict with his brothers because he doesn't want what happened to Lilith to happen to them, he cant bare to loose another sibling. His back is also extremely fucked over from his massive workload and from when he lost afew of his wings, his wing bones were connected to his spine so when he lost those, his back has never truly been the same.

Mammon is actually alot smarter then people think, this man is a absolute legend at counting, multiplying and maths. He may be dense and stupid at times but the mans a legend at math, i like the idea that if your studying with him he helps you out with maths, feeling smug and proud when he helps you get answers right. I also like the idea that he has many piercing holes but is just not bothered to more then two in at a time, if its a fancy event or if its a club event, he'll put more in

Levi is either scrawny or has some chub, you cannot change my mind. The only exercise he gets is chasing mammon around or running around for events. That man survives off of energy drinks and sugary foods, i cant seeing him having full blown rock hard abs, maybe some, but not rock hard abs like beel. I also like the headcannon that he has scales around his neck, cheeks and forehead, another reason he has his fringe covering his eyes.

Satan has alot of scars and scratches on his hands from punching walls, attempting to pet wild kitties and from other things to get his anger out. I feel like when Asmo come in to redo Satan's nails, he draws over the little scars with pen, making them into little flowers or hearts

Asmo has dry skin around his nose from how much moisture he normally has on his face thanks to face masks, skin care and make up. The buildup of all of the produce and the fact there is almost always something on his face has left his skin a little dry to his liking so he adds more product to fix it. I also love thinking about how asmo probably has some faint freckles over his shoulders and nose but he normally hides them, he doesn't want to be seen as anything but perfect.

Beel is not a child so people should stop treating him like one, he has sworn, he has killed and eaten people before, he is a 1000+ year old demon who has seen some shit go down, people should stop infantizing him. Beel has stretch marks around his torso and arms, from constantly working out to eating half of devildom, i feel like his body changes rapidly due to his diet and his working out. He also has matching bracelets with Belphie, his one has a charm of the sun.

Belphie is either dead quite or the loudest snorer, there is no in-between. He could probably be so quite that his brothers loose him for a good day or two, when they think they've checked everywhere belphie starts snoring, leading them straight to him. He also sleeps in the most random spots aswell, next to the potted plant, standing in the middle of the corridor, behind the door, you name it. When this man is tired and done for the day, he will find a way to sleep.

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

5th time saying im back but its been a busy week, exams have been kicking my ass rn, not to mention I have a biology exam tomorrow morning so yay, fun times

I havent done this in a while, im starting to get back into the groove of things lol

[luvsellie]

TONIGHT YOU ARE MINE [s. neteyam]

pairing neteyam x metkayina!fem!reader

summary fed up with his siblings stealing you away while the sun shines, neteyam decides it's best to see you during eclipse

wc 1.2k

warnings mentions of jealousy, probably littered with grammatical errors (oops)

note first actual neteyam oneshot 😋 it took me WAYYYY too long to actually finish this. i must admit i’m a bit embarrassed lol. also this is heavily inspired by this song !!

glossary yawntutsyìp (darling), skxawng (idiot), oel ngati kameie (i see you)

neteyam wasn’t jealous. he wasn’t. he swore to both you and himself that jealousy was something he felt a lack of, always trusting in you and the relationship you both upheld. he took great pride in not having experienced the pesky emotion. but now, as he stood watching you from the shore of one of the reef’s many beaches, he was trying to force down the bitter feeling that caused his jaw to tighten and stature to straighten.

the na’vi stealing your attention away from him weren’t even strangers. neteyam felt more betrayed that you were making more time for his siblings than you were for him. he supposed he could join in on your fun, integrate himself into the smiles and laughter, but he wanted time with you and you alone. so as he turned away, gears beginning to turn in his mind, he worked out a supposed better moment to approach you.

“there you are! i’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

your words carried a lilt to them, and you wore an exhilarated smile as you walked up to neteyam, reaching for his hand in earnest. 

“that’s funny, ‘cause i’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he replied gingerly, his lips pulling into a grin similar to yours. he took notice of the way you were practically bouncing on your heels as he began to tug you in the direction of the water.

it was just after eclipse, and you could sense that his family (or parents in particular) would be worried about him, but you didn’t question when he said, “come with me.” 

his braids fell past his shoulders as he walked, and you squeezed his hand tenderly as water started to lap at your ankles, the waves pooling around your feet. out beyond the beach, the reef glowed with bioluminescence. you had always thought it to be prettier now than when the sun touched it.

“where are we going?” you asked.

neteyam shook his head, smile refusing to feign or falter. “you’ll see, yawntutsyìp. we’re not going far, just…out.” his tone of voice was stoic, and a small part of you thought there might be more to his answer than he was letting on.

“just out,” you repeated, hyper-aware of the way his hand felt in yours. “i like the sound of that. it has been a while since we have been together. alone.”

scoffing out a laugh, neteyam nodded, stealing a glance your way as you both walked along the shoreline. “indeed it has. you’ve been spending all of your time with my brother and sisters.”

you frowned at his words, mentally recalling your activities throughout the day. much to your dismay, neteyam was right. “they’ve required my attention; their breath hold is getting longer and longer each time we practice,” is all you told him.

“yes, but i require your time too,” neteyam drawled, his face morphed into an expression of longing. he pulled you to a stop. “you’re so distant when the sun comes out. why don’t you let tsireya take over. just for a day. i miss being with you.”

lips stretching into a soft smile, you released neteyam’s hand before bringing both your palms to his freckled face. his cheeks were warm against your skin as you said, “you’re with me now. and yes, i can talk to tsireya. she will take over tomorrow’s lessons.” after a slight pause, you stepped closer to him. “there’s no need to be so jealous, ‘teyam.”

your lover rolled his eyes, large hands grabbing your wrists and pulling them from his face. his thumbs smoothed over your knuckles as he said, “i’m not jealous. just…”

“envious of your siblings?” you finished for him, a teasing smile stretching your lips.

neteyam gave you an unamused look, but you noticed the way he was biting back a grin. “you’re such a skxawng.”

“says you!” there was no point in trying to hide that some part of you found it humorous and sweet that neteyam was jealous of his siblings for ‘stealing you away.’ you found it to be quite cute.

instead of trying to find a proper rebuttal to your intended banter, neteyam only sighed and guided your hands to rest behind his nape, his own fingers finding themselves latched to your hips. your front pressed against his, and he sighed as his amber eyes met yours.

intimidated by the sudden closeness, you found your insides twisted with anxiousness. in your peripheral, you noticed the way neteyam’s tail flickered behind him. 

“what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. his gaze consistently jumped to your mouth as he awaited your response.

hit by the abrupt urge to kiss him, you shook your head. “ask me when i’m not distracted by your presence, okay?”

neteyam grinned, and you caught sight of his elongated canines as he stroked the outline of your jaw with his right thumb. “when are you not distracted by my presence, yawntutsyìp?”

giving him a disgruntled look, you rolled your eyes, leaning into his touch regardless of your annoyed facade. “just shut up and kiss me, skxawng.” using the heels of your palms, you gently urged neteyam closer and pressed your lips against his, instantly losing yourself in his taste.

your mouth moved with his, fingers splaying and threading themselves into the roots of his braids. he was so close, and yet you wanted him closer, forever engraved into your skin and mind and soul. as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you moaned quietly before pulling away. neteyam followed suit, though, and you found yourself exhaling as his mouth began to trail the column of your neck.

“neteyam,” you said, failing to steal his attention away from the marks he was branding onto your skin. “neteyam.”

he breathed heavily against your throat. “what?”

“people…” you started, mind clouded with the sensation of his warm tongue. “people will notice marks, neteyam.”

“good,” he regarded with no hesitation, placing chaste kisses on your jawline. “let them notice.”

you let out a strained whine, your eyes locked on the blazing stars above, hands sliding down to his biceps. “my parents will notice. yours will too.”

at this, neteyam finally pulled back, his gaze lidded. his head tilted ever so slightly to the left. “what is so bad about them noticing?”

exhaling through your nose, you shot him a pointed look before shifting yourself against him. you rested your forehead against his chest, squeezing your eyes shut. “there’s nothing distinctively wrong, i suppose. everything about this—about you—just makes me nervous. or, rather, excited. my mind and senses feel tuned to a hundred percent when i’m with you. i have never felt this way. i think i am scared to express whatever this is.”

neteyam’s gaze softened with understanding, leaning down to rest his chin atop your head. he embraced you tightly—to which you were quick to do the same—and he said against your hair, “i have never felt this way either.”

you pulled away, just enough to properly look at him. “oel ngati kameie, neteyam. oel ngati kameie.”

he did not hesitate to say the phrase back, his fingers splaying across the small of your back. “i see you, my love.”

neteyam let the words hang in the air, their weighted meaning bringing heaviness to your heart. and it was at this moment, as you both stood facing each other, skin against skin, that you deemed the entire sully family to be a gift from eywa herself—it had never been so clear to you than it was now.

© luvsellie 2023 | do not repost, republish, steal, or translate !!

[featherlouise]

Exploring some concepts for a slightly older Ghost!! I imagine them as about 8-9ish during the game.

I’ve been neglecting them in most of my AUs lmao, I think it’s time for some Ghost centric stuff shxhxjxj (also they’re VERY fun to draw)

After killing the Radiance, the siblings take some time to rest and recuperate, and at some point decide to try and rebuild Hallownest. Hornet takes over Deepnest, taking her rightful place as Queen, while Hollow becomes king of Hallownest. While Ghost is technically the crown prince, it’s more in name than anything, as they would rather run the Path of Pain handcuffed in the dark than have that kinda responsibility (also they’re like. 13 by this point)

Some tidbits about their design and this AU for those interested:

- They resemble their mother more than PK, and as a result their horns are more like branches and grow to resemble antlers!!

- They also have a faint wood grain pattern all over their body

- Vessels typically have small glowing white dots on their bodies, and darker spots on their face and horns (I’ve been referring to them as soul spots and void freckles shbxxn), and you can generally tell whether they’re more proficient in soul magic or void magic depending on how many of either they have!!

(E.g. Hollow has a few void freckles, but they are COVERED in soul spots, meanwhile Ghost has a few soul spots but they have a TON of void freckles).

When they come into their power as Shade Lord, Ghost’s soul spots are swallowed by their void, and as they get older more void freckles appear until their horns are entirely black.

- I like the idea of Ghost’s power as SL showing in their physical form more as they get older, like their mortal body can’t contain their entire being, so it leaks out in the form of wispy void hair, void freckles, etc etc

- When they started rebuilding, there became a sudden need for formal clothing once again, so Hornet raids every closet in the White Palace to cannibalise the different dresses and robes into something presentable (luckily Ghost fits into most of Hornet’s old stuff)

(Assume the White Palace appears again at some point (finding PK’s corpse is a VERY fun time for Holly ahahaha))

- With the discovery of kingdoms beyond the Wastelands (via Silksong), the siblings start reaching out in the hopes of establishing some trade routes, and getting some help with the rebuilding effort

This opens some opportunities for visits from neighbouring royals (and pooossibly some new friends for Ghost, they need to meet people their age lmaooo)

[eddiernunson]

Bikinis, Ice Cream and Other Ways To Torture Him | Older Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Harrington Fem!Reader | 18+

Prev |

Summary: The stories of Eddie Munson, front man of Corroded Coffin and his music filled the Harrington household, his albums on shelves and picture frames hung of your dad and him, young and dumb. You’re home for the weekend, which happens to be the same weekend Eddie is in Hawkins on a personal errand. The longtime crush bubbles to the surface as you meet him, giving into the temptation of small summer dresses and bubblegum gloss for the fun of it. Until your dad is called in to an emergency work meeting. Then the fun of torture becomes temptation.

Warnings: Older Rockstar!Eddie, Harrington!Reader (Steve’s daughter), use of excessive nicknames, no use of y/n, ambiguous ending, smut

Describes: long hair, shorter than Eddie by a few inches, reader is described to look like her mom (can be ANY race) with Steve’s freckles. No skin Color or body shape/type.

Word Count: 6.8k

This is the last chapter so…enjoy! Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delayed posting today! Parenthood is kicking my ass.

Chapter 6

You hesitantly accept his offer, getting up to sober up a little and grab a bathing suit as Eddie comes from behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and resting his chin on one of them as he asks, “Where are you going?”

“Grabbing a bathing suit,” you answer, gulping at his stubble pressed directly against your cheek.

“Don’t think so,” Eddie jerks his head, not giving you a moment to wonder what he meant before you hit the icy cold depths of your pool, hearing Eddie also hit the water as you went under.

“Jesus!” You cry as you hit the surface, wiping your face from the water that got into your eyes. “Warn a girl!”

“We were going into the pool anyway, we got towels, where’s the fun in that?” Eddie asks, starting to swim circles around you.

“You could’ve at least let me take my shorts off, they are already falling off my legs,” you whine, grabbing the pair from below the waters’ surface around your shin to throw on the pool’s edge.

Eddie scoffs, attempting not to leer to your underwear under the water, wondering if the pool’s liquid had made it see through, or what kind you were wearing. It occurs to him he hadn't thought this impromptu swim very well through.

He swims to the edge to take another drink of his beer, offering you one as well when you pout to your beer still sitting by the dwindling fire. “Alright, I bet…” he trails off, his eyes shining mischievously, “I could beat you to the other end of the pool,” Eddie announces, already starting the race.

“Hey, it’s not fair if you’ve already started!” You huff, quickly starting some breast strokes right behind him.

He beats you by mere seconds, grinning at you cheekily when your face lifts from the water. “You got a head start,” you pout, splashing him childishly.

He splashes you right back at twice the force, a tidal wave completely drowning your head. “You’re just a sore loser.”

“Alright, then, one two three go!” You launch yourself off the wall, giggling when Eddie gives the same attitude towards your unfair headstart as you did to his.

Somehow, he manages to get ahead, out of breath as you reach the surface but grinning stupid all the same, proud of his besting you once again. “Cheaters never prosper.”

“Yeah, or you just have better lungs and longer legs, Munson,” you sneer, not letting him be too proud of his second win.

“Better lungs? Prove it. Wanna test it?” He teases, his eyelashes dripping with the chlorine water but not paying any mind how it drips into his eyes.

“By what, by seeing who can hold your breath under water the longest?” you joke, giggling when he nods in all seriousness.

You agree to it, but just as you could’ve predicted, he wins all three tries. He shrugs, saying something about you must’ve been right about his singer’s lungs.

You usually don’t take losing so well, a competitive streak from having three siblings who all succeeded in almost everything they did, but you were getting so much joy from your adventure in the water with him you forgot to be sour.

“You talk a big talk, but I could beat you in math any day, Munson,” you jeer, internally panicking when it doesn’t affect him in the slightest.

“Oh yeah? Well math ain’t gonna help you here, sweetheart.” He lurches forward, initiating a chase that sends a thrill up your spine, immediately turning away and freaking out when you hear his splashes grow closer and closer.

The pool wall ended up being much closer than you had expected, turning around to him nearly colliding with you from the full force of his momentum. He’s breathing heavily, his bare chest after complaining about his shirt dragging him down pale in the blue night lights, two hands right next to your shoulders on the tiles. He licks his lips, a playful grin still on his face yet slowly fades.

Your shirt has also dragged you down, having taken it off and throwing it just a few feet from where your shorts lie. Your underwear does little to hide what it’s meant to, two thin fabrics between you and the wall. You recall when you considered putting on a bathing suit after your shower earlier but thought it would be silly.

Now all of that seems silly.

The music, now faint, still carries on in the background as Eddie nor you move from the spots, the space between your chests seemingly smaller and smaller.

You’ve held back from this tantalizing temptation so many times, you’ve lost track. You don’t have the strength to hold back any more, so you don’t. You finally take a bite of the damn apple, whether or not there’s hell to pay for it.

Your legs wrap around his waist, tugging him in as you finally press your lips to his gorgeous pink ones. Eddie immediately tenses up, going stiff as a rod. Your first instinct is that you’ve obviously made a blunder, misreading all the signs and were waiting for the humiliation to start, for his apologies to bumble out.

When you attempt to let go and apologize profusely, he cuts you off, pinning your back against the pool as his hands work their way up your body, restless and careless until they stay still on your ass, rough and commanding as you feel his boner right on your desperate heat. His lips against yours take complete control, one hand landing on your cheek as he opens his mouth just a little bit more to allow your tongues collide, beers and smores and musk and watermelons and oh fuck he’s a good kisser.

His stubble collides with your cheek and burns in the best way, drinking in every moment as he kisses you slow but desperately, not wanting to waste a single second after burning for it, his lips on yours.

“Do you know what you do to me, you beautiful little tease?” He mutters, rutting himself as if to demonstrate what he meant.

“I have an idea,” you smirk, gasping the smile away as soon as the boner collides again, harder.

“Do you? Do you know that everytime I see you in a new slutty little outfit I get fucking hard? Every small action you make, taking joints out from your fucking bra, licking jam off your hand,” he ruts again swallowing a whimper that leaves your mouth, “the fucking ice cream, fuck, it is torture just being near you.”

Your legs cling onto him, heels digging into his thighs as one hand wedges itself between your panties and your hip, toying with the thin fabric, his hand roughly digging into the doughy skin of your thigh. “Tell me more,” you plead, chasing his full lips as they messily plant kisses all down your neck, teeth scraping against your skin while his nose nuzzles it, taking deep inhales on his trek.

“God, baby, everything about you had me ready to mark you as mine, I just needed you so fucking bad it drove me insane. Did you need me too? I-I fucking know the answer, but I need to hear it, you need me too, right?” He borderline begs, his voice gone from rough and aggressive to needy almost instantaneously.

“I-I need you, Eddie, I really, really need you,” you answer him in full honesty, overwhelmed by the force of vulnerability that rushes through you like a gust of wind.

The only thing that you can call what comes out of him next is a whimper, his brown eyes searching both of yours rapidly as his hand tightens on your bare hip. “Say it again?”

“Say what again?” you frown, your face close enough to his that the only thing that passes through it are the loud gasps in the quiet of the night. Even with the music still playing in the background, it really only feels as its you and him alone in the world.

“Say my name?” He licks his lips right before scattering kisses all along your collarbone, sucking and nibbling weaved with little whimpers, his wet hair brushing against your chin in the meantime.

You smile, not having noticed the subconscious attempt at distancing yourself. Referring to him as Eddie, even in place of Munson, feels too personal, too real. If he’s Eddie, he’s on your level. Attainable.

Something you have told yourself all weekend that he is anything but.

Your mouth opens to give him exactly what he wanted, but you decide against it at the very last second, “Make me,” husking out instead.

The breathy, seductive tone took him aback, his brow scrunching for just a fraction of a second until a change cascades over his face. Half of his open mouth quirks itself upward, and it’s dark out, the sun having said its final goodbyes, but his brown doe eyes darken as he collects himself. “Make you, hmm? S’that my pretty girl asking me to make her moan my name?”

You nod, out of focus but staring up at him through your lashes all the same, arching your back when he takes you by surprise as he gropes the soft skin of your ass.

“You have been a very good girl, I suppose,” he hums, as if still considering your offer, like he wasn’t just begging for it only moments ago.

You could argue against that, but you won’t if he’s offering you this leeway. “Mmhm,” you nod eagerly, your breaths growing shorter and faster biting your lip in anticipation.

“Alright, then be my good girl and say please,” Eddie mutters, landing one hand next to you on the pool tiles.

“Please,” spills out your lips before you even process it, your legs slowly wafering through the water as he remains still, his lips and hand once all over you now a simple tease in comparison to the touch he finally granted you.

“Please?” Eddie mutters, tilting his head in false curiosity. “Please, what, baby?”

“Please, please t-touch me,” it ‘s so simple, so delicate yet so intimate, crossing a boundary the both of you tried so hard to refrain from. “Want you to please make me moan your name with your fingers, Please.”

“See?” Eddie’s hands start again, hand on the tiles slotting itself on your cheek, the other abruptly slotting itself on your heat. “See, I knew you were a good girl.”

Just his touch alone sends a jolt up your system, a hot flash of lightning as your body jolts up weightlessly held up by his support but mostly the water. He watches you, his jaw dropping as his fingers start moving with purpose as the searing pleasure overwhelms and electrifies your nerves, starting to gasp out little mewls for him no more than two minutes after they started their pattern.

You leant in to kiss him but he keeps your forehead glued to his, turning away from your quivering bottom lip when you lean in again. “No, I know, I just wanna watch your pretty fucking face fall apart for me,” he whispers, his eyes raking across your increasingly ruined form. “Jesus your pussy is so fucking wet f’me. Did checking me out really get you this hot n’ bothered, baby?”

Your eyes start to close, fading out as that similar heat starts to build low in your stomach, as slow as his circles on your clit are, the impending orgasm is rushing at you in a record speed.

Your eyes jolt open as he shoves a long digit in as he barks out, “Nuh-uh.” You’re even more weightless as you practically float on his finger, jaw dropped as his actions have completely halted. “Keep those pretty eyes open and on me, got it?”

“Okay,” you whimper, clenching around the digit three knuckles deep.

“Good, good,” Eddie mutters, slowly moving his finger, watching your face carefully. “Jesus, you’re tight,” he bites out, adding a second finger without any warning. You sob through a little moan, the skin of his shoulders dimpling around your nails as they dug into it.

Slowly your moans have gotten louder, the temptation to allow your eyes to flutter closed fizzling at your vision but you push through it, bobbing up and down in the water in sync with his arm, giving your weight completely to him.

Your tongue laps across your bottom lip easily into a bite, still watching his face with his eyes on yours, what was just half a grin now spread into a manic smile. “You’re being so fucking good for me, sweetheart, just like you have all weekend. You take my fingers so well, can’t wait to see how you fucking take my cock.”

A whimper gasps through your lips, spasming around his fingers at his deliciously filthy words. “Fuck–Eddie–p-please–”

“See, making you moan my name wasn’t so hard,” Eddie whispers right as he leans in to capture your lips in his. His thumb starts rotating on your clit, quickly flooding you with an orgasm that you weren’t even aware you were that close to.

Eddie’s lips muffle the cry that otherwise would’ve been heard by the entire neighborhood, a shout of pure ecstasy that has you writhing up against his strong chest.

Your lips let go of his in a gasping breath, your lip trembling your elbows dig into the delicate skin between his ear and shoulder, pulling him closer as you bore into those big brown eyes. They’re as dark as the night sky yet they shine just as bright as the stars.

Smile lines and dimples are present as he stares up at you, his thumb still rotating slowly and fully responsible for the shaking of your poor thighs. His fingers are still in you, nestled and happy as he feels you flutter around them.

“You,” he drawls, slowly moving his fingers, “are radiant,” you can barely focus on the next kiss he seeks from you, your thighs clinging onto his hips, the momentum building even quicker and hotter than before.

“Oh m’god,” you whimper, throwing all your weight on one forearm as you suddenly have to get his fingers out, its too-too fucking much. “Ed–fuck!”

“You can take it,” he mumbles, one arm across your back as he peppers wet sloppy kisses along your collarbone. “Right? You can handle one more little orgasm.”

You buck into his hips as a silent confirmation, the splashing water around your forms loud from all your thrashing.

The kisses along your collarbone have moved south, the sudden scrape of his teeth against the curve of your breast a welcome shock as he starts to peel back the soaked fabric now glued to your skin like latex. “Look at these fuckin’ perfect tits,” Eddie growls, his hand movements turned sloppy as he wraps his tongue around the peaked nipple.

The added sensation clouds your head, bucking against him and practically sobbing into little whines while he perfectly works you like he already knows you.

“That’s it, fuck yourself on my fingers, you look so good like this, baby,” the praise lights your body ablaze, clutching onto him tighter.

Oddly enough the thing to send you over the edge again was a long lick up your sternum, an image you’ve seen time and time again on the edge of his guitar. Stars crash into your vision, knocking you senseless as you tug him in for a kiss, more teeth than lips as your legs shake but the giggles bubble out from your chest.

“Just one more?” He smirks, adding, Jesus, a third fucking finger.

“Eddie–” you startle, choking on your own oxygen.

“I really need to repay you,” he mutters, starting back on your jawline.

“Repay me?” You manage out, choking back a near shout when he curls his fingers just so.

He nods, focusing a toxic mix of his tongue and teeth against your racing pulse. “Mmhm. Repay you for every little time you managed to make me rock hard.”

“Huh?”

“Don’t worry.” he laughs, gnawing down your shoulder line. “I couldn’t repay you for every time, you’d be here for hours. And we both just found out how quick I can make you cum.”

You gulp, barely able to think through any of what he had just told you. “I-huh?”

“Jus’ one more, baby? Jus’ one more after being relentlessly teased by those fucking thighs of yours? Your pretty tits? That chokable neck–baby fuck you really make me fucking crazy–” his voice has somehow gone from commanding back to whining, his voice drowning in pure, needy, wanting.

“You are–” you start, cut off by a kiss he throws in as he becomes restless in his motions, “you are going to be the–” you giggle as he kisses you again, nipping at your bottom lip. “Ah–the end of me.”

“You fuckin’ like it, don’t you?” He laughs, one hand spread on the back of your neck as his eyes remain on yours. “You love how much my fingers can ruin you.”

“Your–your voice,” you choke out, eyes rolling into the back of your head. “Your voice does a lot-a lot a lot-of the work.”

He chuckles darkly, curling his fingers against your g-spot impossible harder, an impossible fire somehow hurling through your pussy still submerged in the pool. “I think I know why Hell’s Angels is your favorite album, hmm? It is a very carnal album.”

You giggle, somehow more cognitive. “My number one most played on Spotify.”

Eddie huffs out a chorus of laughter, leaning down to lick a wide fat stripe up your neck. “That is so fucking hot to me.” You shiver, blinded by the roll of ecstasy that just ran through you. “Would you believe I am just as obsessed with you?”

“It-it’s a high bar,” you admit, peeling your other arm out of its bra strap to completely expose yourself.

“Oh my god you’re fucking adorable,” Eddie hums, nibbling all down your chin, his lips seemingly unable to rest as they roam around you. “Now fucking cum for me so we can get out of this pool and I can finally fuck you.”

Something that’s only been possible under perfect circumstances while bonding with a vibrator occurs, you squirt all over his hand following a sudden heat that boils in your skin and acts like an anchor in your body weighing you down. The weightlessness water usually brings to you has disappeared swiftly, clinging onto him as he peels his fingers from where they sat still nestled as they finished working you through it.

He reciprocates the tight hug you give him, strong arms holding you close to his chest as your legs still spasm and quake.

“That’s my good girl,” he whispers encouragingly, gently petting your dampened hair. “C’mere, I’m gonna see if I–” he grunts, the muggy air engulfing you whole as he lifts you up onto the edge of the pool as if you weighed nothing, winking playfully as he lifts himself out.

“Ok, you obviously lift,” you mumble, being tugged by his hands and escorted into the house, leaving only the still lit embers of the pit and the scattered ingredients and clothes behind.

He chuckles, momentarily squeezing you as he wraps his arms and clasps them together in front of your torso. “Please, you weigh nothing.”

He stays like that every step on the cement to your house, playfully nipping at your neck, tickling it with his deep breaths until you reach the threshold of the double doors. Eddie lets go of you, watching your ass for a moment, your hand yanked by his hand in yours as he leans against the island kitchen counter.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he doesn’t give you a chance to respond, tilting your head as he lays a wet one on you.

“U-upstairs–” you sigh as he interrupts you again, magical, only the smell of beer left over but his lips so nice and plump.

“I don’t think so,” he mumbles, working his other arm around your torso to single handedly undo the bra clasp. It falls from your chest,Eddie eagerly kneading his hand on your left tit, two fingers playing with the nipple as you sigh into his mouth.

A whimper passes through your lips, gyrating your hips against his needily as you crave more friction despite your greedy cunt still soaked from its three releases. “Well then hurry up,” you huff, starting to play with the band of his boxers. “Can’t wait much longer.”

Your panties are yanked down, landing on the floor with a wet plop. Eddie lifts you effortlessly onto the counter, working his tented fabric against you roughly, watching your jaw drop as he rolls his hips against yours. “Please.”

“I would tell you to be patient but ever since I heard you yesterday I can’t think of anything else, baby,” Eddie sighs as you pull down his boxers, gasping as it bounces against his taut belly.

A sudden urge fills you to have its weight on your tongue, the girth down your neck, to fill your throat, the primal need alerting you as you never knew wanting a cock like this so badly was even possible. By pure instinct you reach out to grab him, basking in the moan he chokes out.

His voice could satiate a hungry belly, if you had one.

His previous confession suddenly sparks, looking up at him curiously as you work your hand along his devious length. “What did you hear yesterday?”

“Baby, your house has some thin fucking walls,” he husks out, watching your eyes go bug wide in the revelation. “I didn’t hear anything but moaning, but if it's any constellation, I hope you were thinking about me, because I sure as shit was thinking about you right outside your bedroom.”

You start to guide his leaky tip toward your mound, biting your lip as you peer up at him with doe eyes. “Please?”

“Were you?”

You sob out of desperation, your forehead landing on his shoulder. “Eddie, please–”

“Patience, slut.” You pause, pouting as you look up at him. “Were you thinkin about me while you greedily came over and over again?”

You nod, biting your lip anxiously as you glance down to his length only mere inches away from your weeping, begging entrance. “You used your tongue on the soft serve like it was–”

“I know I did, baby.” Eddie smirks, watching the shiver roll through you as the head collides with your clit. “So glad you noticed.”

You sigh impatiently, clawing your nails into his shoulder as he continues to tease you. “Eddie, pl–”

Your pathetic begging is turned off as soon as he pushes in, splitting you open as he slowly works his way to the hilt. “Jesus.”

“Eddie,” you moan, the heels of your hands digging into his collarbone. “F-fuck!”

His dark eyes bore into yours, labored breath piercing the air in the otherwise deadly quiet house. “I fuckin’ knew your pussy would be like this.”

“Like what?” You ask, pulling him closer as he did with you.

“Like a fuckin’ drug,” Eddie growls, rolling his hips against yours, the symphony of moans swallowed as he crashes his lips onto yours with an almost angry force.

It begins with a few stings, but the pleasure drowns it out before you even get a chance to revel in it, his cock hitting places you didn’t even know possible.

Your legs cling onto him, lapping kisses and nibbles down his chest hungrily as he works into you with choked out moans, seemingly losing himself in the heat of your pussy.

You slowly bruise your way down his chest, remembering every time you’d ever said how badly you’d wanted to bite him and to mark your territory as yours. All through the night he has called you his girl, but you finally get the chance to claim him. “Mine.”

“Feelin possessive, are we, baby?” He gasps out, curling his fingers through your hair and pulling at your scalp.”Wanting to claim this old man all yours?”

“You’re all fucking mine, Ed,” you claim again, moving to lap at one of his peaked nipples.

“As long as you’re mine,” he gasps back, pulling your head back up to where you can kiss him again.

You nod eagerly, the double meanings of the words seemingly lost on you to what he actually might mean. Regardless, the following kiss is desperate, even more so as his hips continue on their relentless pace.

You whine at the sudden loss, feeling empty and lonely when his body warmth leaves yours for the moment. “Bend over the fucking couch.”

It takes a minute to register, floating on the kitchen counter in a daze.

“Awww, my cock drunk slut,” his voice is sweet, malevolently so as his fingers dig into your hair and pull on your scalp as he leans in against your ear. “I said, bend over the fucking couch.”

You whimper, scrambling to climb down and run shakily to the living room. You’re guided by his hand in your hair again to the arm rest, using his foot to widen your stance. “Arch your back. More. There you go. Now be a good slut and tell me how fucking good it feels to be ripped in half by the rockstar of your dreams.”

Eddie lets go of your scalp to smack your ass, the thwack startling you in the best of ways as he watches it jiggle from the force. “Shove your face into the pillow, there we go.”

No more warning is provided when he pushes himself into you, making what you used to think was hard and fast into slow and pathetic. Eddie’s relentless hips are in their own fucking league. He sirens primal moans from you, your fingers digging into the cushions as he pounds into your pussy relentlessly.

“I just started, and you’ve already gone completely dumb? God I’ve ruined you for every bad fuck you’ve ever had.”

It’s true. Eddie Munson has ruined you in ways you simply could not comprehend, your torso practically flat on the couch as he tightens his grip on your hips. You push your ass against him, somehow communicating how fucking much you need him.

“Bet you’ve dreamed of this, yeah?” He mocks as his grip tightens on your hip. “Well for the last three nights I guess I returned the favour because I have dreamt of nothing but you. What you’d sound like, what you’d look like, god what you’d taste like— you’re in my fucking head.”

Your knees dig into his legs, your toes curled close to your ass as they possibly can be as you feel the impact of his hips start to form an ache against your thighs, your cheeks, fuck–your hole. Regardless of the spreading throb, you squeeze him tighter, silently begging for more. Just when you thought you understood what the term fucked stupid meant, you realize you had no idea as your brain starts to turn into mush.

“You’re taking it so fucking well, princess,” fuck, usually princess is a massive turn off but even you could tell the immediate reaction of you gushing around him. “Likes bein’ called princess, hmm? Give me your arm, then, princess.”

It’s a reflex how your hand raises backwards toward him, limply hanging as high as it can go which is barely a foot over your torso.

“Good, other one, too,” you whine, cut off by a sharp thrust as he grabs your other wrist to hold them both together in one hand. You think you’ve gotten the new position figured out when one hand moves up to your forearm, yanking it harshly so he has his good arm slotted between your elbows and the small of your back. “There we go.”

You’re practically standing on your two feet again, your back arched at an impossible angle as his other hand wraps itself around your neck. “Aah, that's much better. Look up.”

Your eyes flutter up to see a small round accent mirror on the wall directly across from you on the wall directly above a record player, yours and Eddie’s reflection featuring your faces, your hair tussled and eyes dazed. You blink to Eddie’s who’s smirking over your shoulder with hot cheeks and half-mooned eyes. You shyly look way from his possessive hold, having pulsed around him at how fucking gone you both look.

“Look back in the fucking mirror,” he commands, tightening his once lax grip on your neck so he constricts your airway just the littlest bit. “Look how fucking gone you are, you’re just covered in me, hmm?”

All you can do is bite your lip and push back on him, begging for his hips to continue that oh so powerful trek.

The following movement of his hips are barely noticeable, but your reflection gasps, her jaw dropping to the needed friction. “Ed–”

“Keep being my good princess and watch yourself be fucked in the mirror for me, won’t you sweet girl?” You nod, but Eddie doesn’t seem to care to wait for your answer, his hips colliding with your in a harsh slap, officially rendering any left over brain you might have had completely useless.

“Look at your fucking pretty face,” he shudders, starting to sound quite desperate himself. “There’s not a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of yours. Every muscle on your face is relaxed, your jaw falling open as if begging for me to shove my cock past those lips of yours, fuck you look so fucking perfect for me, princess.”

Your brain begs you to say something, to tell him how fucking good his cock feels, how he’s splitting you open as he feels impossibly deep as if he were kissing your cervix with every hit, how sex like this was only supposed to exist in softcore porn. How watching yourself get stupider with every hit with his hand wrapped around your neck in a claim of ownership turns you the fuck on, adding fuel to an out of control forest fire.

But your brain has turned into a puddle.

“That’s it, baby, keep bein’ good for me I’m almost done,” he lets go of your neck just to grab a handful of your hair once again. “G’nna fill that fuckin pussy up, s’ that ok?”

You find it in you somewhere to nod yes in direct juxtaposition against the grip on you, vision now fizzling as your eyes slowly fall closed. Whatever you have ever wasted time fantisizing clearly will never live up to the real thing.

Eddie’s words have warped into grunts and half finished sentences, hitting somewhere deliciously deep until his sticky ropes cover your walls up in him, filling you to the brim to make you impossibly, impossibly full.

He works himself through it, whimpering at his own sensitivities when the arm clutching yours sets you free but works itself on your clit once more, jerking you up from where you crumpeled forward onto the couch.

“Just need to feel you squeeze my cock while you cum, princess,” he mutters, sounding utterly destroyed as his voice croaks.

You try to wiggle away from him, feeling so oversensitive it forces its way up your throat in an intense sob. “Too-too much!”

“I know you can take it, princess,” he drawls, darkening his voice in the way he knows you like.

“Ed–”

“Please, jus’ for me?” He asks, his grip on your hip too tight for you to keep crawling forward.

“I-I c–” stars crash in your vision, thrashing as you feel his strong torso directly against your back.

“See?” he mumbles, peeling his arm around your tummy as he maneuvers you and him on your sides, spooning you on the couch, both covered in sweat. Eddie lifts your chin in his grip, shoving his tongue down your throat, the vibration of his humming helping you come back down to earth. “I knew you could do it.”

Somewhere in the kisses he slips himself out, distracting you with his marvelous kissing expertise as his hands find themselves enwrapping yours, fingers intertwined against your sternum fiercely as you get lost in his taste. Eventually you need to catch your breath, gasping as your head lands on the fabric of the sofa roughly, slowly drifting off to sleep.

Eddie gets up, ignoring your calls to stay with you. After some loud rummaging and swearing he returns, shocking you with a yelp as a wet cloth cleans you from the dripping cum out your full pussy. “Sorry. Didn’t want to ruin the nice couch.”

“Think we past ruined long ago,” you comment, peering up at him as he sends you a soft smile.

“Might be true.”

First thing you notice is he’s gotten dressed again, and just like that the spell is broken, and the aftermath of your adventures settle in.

His brown eyes tentatively meet yours, pensive and careful as you slowly sit up on the couch. What now?

He wears no smile on his face, searching yours as he leans in, his pointer finger hooked under your chin as he plants a gentle kiss on your lips that makes you miss the feel of him already. “I’m definitely not tired, would you like to watch a movie with me?”

You nod, eyes still closed as you reel from the whiff of emotions that repeatedly compound through you. “I don’t think I can stand.”

“I’d be insulted if you could,” he huffs, planting a sweet kiss on your nose. “Be right back. You want sweatpants or something more akin to those pretty dresses you’ve been flouncing around in?”

“Hmm, happy middle, please,” you ignore his jab, if just for the obvious amusement in his voice.

“Aah, a thong and a necklace coming up,” he jokes, running up the stairs before you could playfully glare at him.

He brings you a matching tank and shorts and a light blanket, setting up Smile for you two to watch as he curled you into his chest. When the movie is over you glance up at him, worried for what exactly came out his mouth next.

We probably should keep it as a one time only event.

You reluctantly agreed, crawling into a too big bed as you already miss his comforting weight right next to you. Sleep never comes, in fact, sleep has stopped texting you back because you have never been more wide awake.

Sweat seeps through the sheets and shines on your forehead as you wrap yourself up in an accidental burrito from all the turning and tossing, your emotions one puddle, thundering and storming into a lake of aroused confusion and clouded judgment as your weekend plays on repeat.

By the time the sky shines a periwinkle blue once again you’ve decided you could not take it for two more seconds, impulsively getting up to run back across the hall.

The door opens to a wildly disheveled head of curls, his hand raised as if he was about to knock. His mouth opens but you don’t give him the chance to tell you Yeah, no, fuck that, because your lips are on his in a flash, arms recklessly thrown around his shoulders and pulling him into your bedroom for some more of his lips, his hands, his hips, his tongue.

Neither of you had enough resolve to decide it would only be a one time thing.

-

Six Months Later

Eddie huffed a few bouts of laughter as you litter kisses all over his neck, refusing to listen to his out of breath protests as you nuzzle into his intoxicating stubble. “Babe, babe! I have to take a shower, I fucking stink!”

You giggle, working your hands up his fishnet shirt layered under the graphic tee. “Mhmm,” you hum, lapping up some rank sweat that has built up at the hinge of his jaw. “Smells amazing.”

“You’re a fucking freak, have I ever told you that?” He laughs, intertwining his fingers through your hair as he shoves his tongue down your throat.

“You’ve mentioned it,” you sigh, gasping against his minty breaths. “Helps having a smoking hot boyfriend, you know?”

“Baby, I really need a shower, I will meet you in the lounge,” he sighs, sounding like he’s about to give up.

“I could join you,” you suggest, pulling him in closer against you.

“As tempting as that is, we both know neither of us are getting any cleaner if that happens,” he sternly holds your face at a distance from his, his eyebrow flickering up pointedly when you attempt to lean in for more. “I promise to fuck you into the mattress, against the couch, and wherever else you might want later, okay, my sweet princess?”

“Fine,” you huff, grinning against his lips at the final sweet kiss he gives you, at the shivers down your spine that have never stopped, that have never shown signs of stopping.

The dressing room door closes behind you as the spray of the water hits the shower floor, a taunt that you are not in the cramped space with him, the one place you crave.

After offering his bandmates your best compliments, you act as a wallflower, watching the moon-eyed fans get their selfies as you played with the guitar pick chained around your wrist. You scrolled through your twitter app, saving photos of your gorgeous boyfriend in quality photos and the litter of hickeys you had spent hours giving him for hours the previous night.

A sudden impossible yet familiar laugh fills the air, your eyes snapping up to your dad’s familiar swoop of brown locks tossed back in a full body chuckle. Your stomach falls into the pits of hell.

You had checked with Eddie before hand that Steve hadn’t gotten any tickets emailed to him to avoid this very particularly sticky situation. You had agreed to keep it quiet until it started getting more serious.

Well…it had turned serious but you knew for a fact your dad wouldn’t be too happy with the coupling.

Your eyes jolt around the room to look for a quick escape, forgetting there’s only one door in, and unless you were going to turn unrealistically stealthy in the next minute, sneaking past him was not an option.

Your hesitation turns out to be your doom, just as you make a choice his brown eyes landed on you, lighting up in surprise.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Sunshine!” He calls out, holding his arms out and reaching for a hug. “What are you doing here? Thought you were staying with your roommate for the week!”

You had specifically told him you were stuck with your roommate who was getting over an ex boyfriend. The ex boyfriend part was right, but you were assisting from afar, with your own boyfriend luring you off the phone.

You hug him back, a wave of guilt washing over you, unable to relax in his familiar arms. “I made it down last minute!” The lie is forced, reminding you of times you knew you were caught but chose to dig deeper rather than climb out.

Sometimes it's just easier that way.

Steve’s brows furrow, crossing his arms just as something occurs to him. “How-how did you even make it down so quickly, I just called you this morning—“

He is interrupted by a familiar set of arms thrown around you from behind, squeezing you tight until you weasel out of them, your nerves on a hotwire.

For a moment that stretches out, lasting forever enough for you to see the V between Steve’s brow deepen, his head tilting ever so slightly, a slight frown downturning his lips.

And the panic that shifts every muscle of Eddie’s face when he sees Steve.

Finally, things set back into motion as puts on a facade of surprise, well not a facade as he’s actually surprised, he certainly knows how to put on a face of delight.

“Steve, my boy!” He collides his chest with his best friend, back pats exchanged as they embrace one another. “I didn’t know you were coming!”

Steve shrugs, his hands slotted into his pockets once they separate. “You didn’t answer my email, but Gareth did.”

When you switch your gaze to the drummer, he winks, telling you he has been paying attention to the shit show the entire time.

A few beats in the conversation, Steve starts to wonder if he was making everything up in his head, if he was just imagining your awkward stances and the way you’re standing just an inch too far away from one another.

Because there is no other reason you’d have to lie.

But all the little things keep sticking out to him. Your disheveled hair, in a way that couldn’t be manufactured. A bruise on Eddie’s neck, no bruises, but this one seemed familiar—

Steve’s eyes dart to your smudged lipstick, just barely fixed.

The fidgeting of a bracelet around your wrist, your anxious swaying, Eddie’s nervous rambling.

The way Eddie rushed to hug you like an old friend yet can’t seem it dare keep his eyes on you longer than a second.

”Eddie Munson, tell me you are not hooking up with my daughter.”

-

Oop.

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This is the last chapter hope y’all loved 😭

[cherry-pop-elf]

Warming Up The New Client

Fred Weasley x Reader

Sum: Was another one of those little bets you and Fred did. You lost, but you are kinda the biggest winner between the two of you. Especially when one of the Weasley’s business partners come in to discuss important things. Let’s see if he can keep his head straight

Warnings: 18+, cock warming, blow jobs, semi public, kinda cracky because not everything needs to be a porno you gotta laugh, accidental choking, worried boyfriend because whoops this has become a sitcom, after care. Lowkey tho any fic you’ll read from me will have it, unless stated otherwise. HEALTHY AND REALISTIC SEX

“MR WEATHERBIRD! What are you doing here?!” Fred would panic, as he would force his chair to push into the desk. Was followed by a thump, as your body hit the back of the desk. Hardly any space for you, and his legs, in the confined space.

Why were you under his desk, and between his legs? Well you lost a bet. Was a harmless one. Just those lazy Mondays, at the shop, where you both needed something to help stimulate the day. A bet where it didn’t matter who won or loss, because there weren’t really any losers when the fun is the game.

Your prize for losing was to give the winner a blow job. Nothing too crazy. That is until unaware company arrived. That being a man that the Weasley twins were meant to do business with. Seems like George must have missed the man. Well, he arrived via fire place. George wouldn’t have seen him arrive, unless in the office with you two.

“Is now a bad time, Mr. Weasley? I figured Mondays would work best for you. Tis a joke shop, after all. The slowest day of the week, as your largest income bracket is through the school children. A Monday morning felt the most reliable to arrive.” Damn his logic, that was what Fred thought. He had a point.

“No no! It’s fine, you are right. Just surprise, that’s all. Take a seat. Let’s talk!” He would grin his award winning smile, as you remained stuck in your hiding place. Left with a choice to make. Stop what you are doing, or see how far you could push the button. Well, you married a Weasley. What’s a little bit of risk?

“Wonderful. We have much to discuss.” Boy was this going to be boring. You knew it, Fred knew it, but hey. You are certainly going to make it more enjoyable. Or worse. Either way, it’s gonna be fun.

As the older gentlemen began his garble, you were busy with your own garbling. Letting his cock press into your cheek, as you tried to find a way to move your head. You didn’t want to just keep thumping your head on the wood. That’s not fun at all.

You were shifting your head all over the place, as you tried to get comfortable. Made for your boyfriend to struggle with paying attention to the boring work jargon his business partner was making. Was certainly difficult to make sure he looked like he was listening, and not currently getting sucked off. Certainly difficult indeed, when those freckled cheeks of his were rosey.

“You seem a bit warm, Mr. Weasley. Are you feeling well?” The older gentlemen would ask Fred. Ever the charismatic man he was, he was oh so quick to think on the fly. Lie out of every situation. Such a charming gift to have.

“Fever fudge. You know how my brother and I are. We always self test our products. That way if anyone gets hurt, it’s us. We only ever field test with mostly our siblings. We know how they would react to what we make, but not to strangers. No. We don’t act like it, but we try and keep things safe.” That seemed to win over Mr. Weatherbird. Charmed the man as much as he could charm a gaggle of girls in a quidditch stand.

The devil on your shoulder was going to be the death of you, and him, with what it was whispering to you. Wanting to try and make his facade crack somehow. Just a little bit. Enough to make him sweat under the pressure. Just a little bit. You don’t want to actually put him at risk of anything, but gambling is gambling. Win big, or die trying.

As you finally managed to force Fred’s chair back, you could properly move your head. Made him need to sit awkwardly, to not make it appear that he was pushed back. Didn’t want the man to get suspicious. Seems he wasn’t, as he was busy with papers. Gave Fred time to look down, and see your devious face. Stuffed with his cock. Was so arrousing, you could feel his cock twitch on your tongue. With fresh flavor for you to enjoy.

He would shoot you a glare, only for the man to look back up. Forced him to meet the clients eyes, as to try and act as chill as possible. Never did he think he would want to do paper work right now. Anything to not just cum down your throat. George was the moaner, not him. But you were seeing if they were identical in a few other ways.

That was until Mr. Weatherbird started to lean over the desk. Just trying to be polite, and show him something on the papers. Had Fred quickly slam himself back under the desk. Forced you to take his cock all the way down your throat, and gag on it. Had you cross eyed, and trying so damn hard to not gurgle on it. Guess you weren’t quite enough.

“What was that noise-?” “What noise?” “Sounded like someone was choking….” Fred, ever quick, was able to come up with the perfect lie. A lie melted in truth, to keep the seal on the little secret at hand closed.

“We have a product here called puking pasties. A pastry used to help kids throw up. For one reason or another. Not to mention we have many things that stink so bad you wish to obliviate yourself from the memory. Just kids being kids. George has it under control.” He would brush off the worry, as you tried to find your ability to breathe again.

Was rather difficult, as you were now trapped entirely under the desk this time. How your head was pressed against the desk, and held no way to move your head. Just gagging around his cock, with drool soaking all over your clothes.

The more you tried to steady yourself, the more his cock twitched in your mouth. Feeling your tongue trying to adjust itself. How your throat kept clenching and your lips desperate to move.

Before you could make any other noises, he was quick to wave his wand. Had his gramophone kick to life, and play that loud swing music those twins loved. Nothing like some big band to liven up the scene. Along with hide more of your gagging, and sputtering, in the hopes to finish this meeting.

“That’s better. Now, as we were saying-“ The droning was starting to get to him. All his mind could think about you was choking on his cock. Had him aroused, but also very worried he was hurting you. It’s not hot if it’s not consented on. Was an accident, yes, but he loves you and wants you safe. He had to figure out how to get you out of there, before things get worse.

“Say uh. Mr. Weatherbird, um-“ Wow was it getting harder to talk. Wasn’t helping that you were still scrambling. Your hands reaching into his lap, to try and push him back some. When trying to reach the front of his chair, you got a full grab of your favorite stress toy instead. Had his eyes go cross, for a moment, as he had to bite his lip. Trying so hard, but he wasn’t going to last much longer.

“Oh, I know it’s alot. You are so new to this world of business. I respect it. You two are stars, I can see it. I’ll do my best to help guide you both. You two are already doing so wonderful. Truly business savvy. Your parents must be so proud. Here, I’ll leave these papers for you and your twin to discuss over. Just send an Owl if you have any questions.” He gave a tip of his hat to Fred, as Fred himself did his best to give a flustered nod.

Mr. Weatherbird would give a wave goodbye, and vanished through the fireplace. As soon as he did, Fred pushed himself back. Made for a rather pornographic sight, and sound, as he popped his cock out of your mouth.

You were just covered in your own drool. Face more flustered than his own, with your lips swollen from being stretched for so long. How you were panting hard from the stress of the scene. It was all too much. You were just so perfect in his view. He just had to add to it.

He barely had time to close your eyes, as he leaned back. His cock just spilling his cum all across your face. Across your drool stained chest. You were just covered in so much. You were surprised he even had so much in him. Guess this was some life or death edging, so to speak.

With your breath caught, it was his turn to pant. Just leaning back in his office chair. His body slack, as he was seeing stars. That release was so needed, and so intense. He swore he pulled his back out from it.

“That could have gone better…Or worse. Depends on if we look at this from a positive view or not.” You would joke, as he gave a dry laugh. Happy to know you were ok. You knew he was worried, you could just tell. There was something sweet about it. That even with such heat of the moment he was looking out for you.

You would let him collect himself, as a cleaning charm solved all your problems. You also were polite to help out his dick away for him. After care goes both ways, after all. When he would come back to reality he would take care of you. You knew that. Until then, you’ll make sure he is cared for to.

Once he had his time to no longer sweat himself a new pool, he would pull you into his lap. Just cuddling you. A means of apology, without saying it. You knew he was trying to not have you humiliated. It wasn’t intentional in any way. The way you would play with his hair conveyed it. Both of you using your own silent little love language.

“So….Whens your next meeting?” The fact you asked that made his head spin. You wanted to do that again? That risk? The choking? The fear? The adrenaline? The insanity of it all?

“…….Thursday, after lunch….” He’s a Weasley. They were all adrenaline junkies. That’s just one of the many things that made you love him. Love him, kiss him, and bump your noses together. His adorable bird nose, with yours.

“You are such a minx, and I LOVE it.”

[dahliakbs]

Batfam x Doppleganger! Reader (Part 1)

Synopsis: You secretly live with them but one terrible fever made you blow your cover

Masterlist , Part 2

Living with them was easy.

You'd been there long enough to have studied their mannerisms and speech patterns. Like the way they talked, how they would fidget or how they'd react in certain circumstances.

Like Bruce.

He was one if the easiest to impersonate. He barely spoke, always held a stoic expression and never really was seen around the manor.

Most of the time you'd use his likeness to go wherever you wanted and no one questioned you since... who would question Bruce Wayne?

Dick however was a little tough to do.

What you've gathered from your little study is that Richard was always trying to mold himself into what he thought the person needed to see him as and frankly speaking it was tiring.

Often times using his likeness meant you'd have to put up with his siblings crap to an almost extreme extent and you really couldn't hold out any longer when situations like that happened.

He was also a form that you couldn't use very often since most of the time he'd be in Blüdhaven.

Tim was your go to in any situation since he was either out on CEO business or cooped up in his room.

You'd related to his character alot since being in a house full of vigilantes always meant that you'd have to be alert in most situations if you didn't want to be caught. Which meant that you'd developed a serious case of insomnia.

Whenever they found you as Tim they'd leave you be because most of the time you'd be passed out on a couch or laying in one of the many comfortable beds around the manor.

They knew Tim needed his sleep so they never stuck around long enough to question why he wasn't in his room.

Damian was one form you'd refused to take on.

Most of the time he needed to be at school. Which meant that you could never walk around the house without being questioned as to why you weren't currently at home.

Like that one time Alfred caught you stealing food in the kitchen on a weekday and nearly sent you to school along with the real Damian.

On other occasions you'd never be able to fully keep up his persona and sometimes let a couple things slip.

Like that one time you'd done something uncharacteristically out of place. Like actually laughing at Dick's jokes, something Damian would never do.

Unlike the rest of his siblings Jason was completely out of the question. He was never in the manor and whenever he was he would always be scrutinized for causing trouble do walking around as him would be very inconvenient.

Now you'd never thought the day would come when you'd actually be caught.

You were so alert and vigilant, always making sure to not overstep or do anything that would rise suspicion but sadly that just wasn't enough.

It was a particularly harsh time of year for you, hay fever had kicked in.

Your throat was itchy, you were sneezing left and right and you were all alone the cold damp attic of the manor.

Usually around this time of year you needed to stay low-key, always hiding in the attic and making sure no one saw you.

Being sick would always mess with your ability.

Anytime you tried impersonating anyone it would always turn out weird or in some situations grotesque.

Multiple fingers would sprout onto each hand, random eyeballs would generate in peculiar parts of your body and sometimes you'd generate the wrong amount of hair all over your body. Ending up looking like a character straight out of a big foot.

Sometimes different body parts wouldn't finish generating or would be missing entirely.

Like the stump of your arm would be missing but you'd still have a hand connected to your shoulder.

Maybe you'd generate something more tame like the wrong eye color or your own physical features would show through. (Like freckles, stretch marks or beauty marks)

All in all it was horrible.

So when you realized that your stash of food for the month had run out so quickly you dreaded having to take up on one if their forms.

But alas you had to.

This time you'd taken on the form of Tim Drake, maybe they'd leave you alone if they thought you were their sleep deprived brother.

Sadly the transformation didn't turn out right.

Your eyes were the wrong shade if blue, your nose sitting a bit lower down in your fad and you'd generated several more fingers than necessary.

Even though you'd generated Tim's face your own features somehow shined through leaving a weird mixture of your features and his clashing together.

Seeing yourself like that nearly made you bring up whatever junk food you'd eaten earlier but you'd have to pull through.

Quickly you hopped down from the misplaced wooden board in their ceiling and made your way through the manor. Maybe you'd be lucky to find no one home.

Making your way down to the kitchen was fairly easy which was odd since it was a weekend which meant almost everyone would be home but you disregarded that and instead focused on grabbing things from the pantry.

You'd been so engrossed in your actions that you didn't notice the figure creeping up behind you.

They just stared at you as you continued taking stuff from the pantry.They seem paralyzed at what they were seeing.

When you finally turned around to exit the kitchen you'd frozen immediately.

You didn't know what to say.

The figure in front of you who you'd come to realize was Tim Drake himself had caught you.

....

You'd tried to stay silent and not move, wondering if you stood completely still would you just disappear in his eyes but sadly the sneeze that was bubbling in your chest said otherwise.

The sneeze causing you to shift painfully between the many forms you'd taken on before finally switching back to your normal self.

Well you just significantly screwed yourself.

Before the situation could get any worse you made the first move, choosing to slide past his frozen figure and bolt back to the attic.

Knowing Tim you wouldn't have enough time to get out of here before he'd alerted everyone of your presence in the manor.

Meanwhile in the bat cave

"Guys, I just ran into myself...grabbing food from the kitchen" Tim slowly descended the stairs with a confused expression settling on his tired face.

"You sure you didn't just start hallucinating?" Damian asked.

"No he's right, look at this" Bruce motioned towards the monitor. It seems that he'd been surfing the security camera footage while you'd chosen to look for food.

A video of you hastily walking through the hallways earlier played on the screen.

The fine details of your figure could be seen in the monitor, like the multiple fingers hanging off your palm and the severely different face that resembled Tim to an extent.

Then the monitor switched to another video of you standing in the kitchen, your body was swaying dangerously from side to side as you tried to reach their pantry. It seems you were more sick than you yourself were aware of.

A couple seconds later Tim came into the kitchen followed by you turning around and switching between different members of the family before settling on to what seems to be your real form.

"That's unnerving" Damian commented.

"I know right they had like nine fingers" Tin shuddered at the sight of your hands before noticing Dick quickly leaving the room.

"Where are you going?" He asked.

"To meet our new roommate"

"Shouldn't we get to know them first before you allow then to live here permanently" Tim asked only to be ignored by Dick's quick moving form.

"Shouldn't you be stopping him" Tim turned back to Bruce.

"With father's history I doubt he'd mind adding them to the family" Damian stated.

So I guess welcome to the family?

[mediumgayitalian]

Nico wakes up with a mouthful of hair.

“Are you serious.”

He sticks out his tongue, trying to get it out of his mouth without spitting on it, giving up after about four point three seconds of trying. He wriggles his arm out from where it’s pinned between his body and Will’s, flicking the last few strands off his tongue. For good measure, he kicks the first thing he can reach — his boyfriend’s thighs, go figure — in protest.

“Please, no,” Will mumbles tiredly, batting blindly under the cover until he slaps on big hand over Nico’s ankle, squeezing. “Please. I got in at three thirty last night. It’s barely seven. Please.”

Nico sighs, relaxing his muscles. Will presses a brief kiss to his shoulder in gratitude, face buried in his chest, sinking boneless into him.

“The whole knowing the time without a clock thing will never stop being weird,” he mutters, pressing a kiss to a freckled forehead. He rubs his hands over Will’s bare shoulders, digging his thumbs along the knotted muscles, and smiles as he groans, trying in vain to plaster somehow closer to Nico, practically melting into him. “Gracie keep you up all night?”

He shifts as he nods. “Harley, too. Poor things just want someone to hold their hair outta their face and rub their back, they’re so miserable.”

Nico hums in sympathy. It’s flu season — hitting the little kids, mostly. Will has been on his feet for days trying to mitigate symptoms, soothe aching bones and sore throats. There’s not too much he can do for the flu, but the kids are miserable and they trust him, so his presence is more of a cure and a comfort than anything.

“Kayla there now?”

“Austin and Lou. Kayla’s on after lunch; Piper’s with her.”

“Good.” He squeezes his shoulders again, leaning down to press a long, lingering kiss right between his eyes. He leans into it, sighing. “Sleep for a bit, okay? I’ll come check on you, but I don’t want you up before 2.”

“‘Kay,” Will sighs, unconscious again by the time Nico’s wiggled out of his hold. For a moment he stands, watching him: his bare, broad back, spattered with dark freckles and moles, dipping at the base of his spine and covered barely by the soft, white sheets; arms curled up all the way around his face in Nico’s absence, bicep squeezing his cheek, pursing his delicate Cupid’s bow; long, light eyelashes fanning over round cheeks; even, steady breathing, in and out, in and out.

Golden hair, of course, frizzy and messy and poofing out around his head; haloed in the early morning sun.

He’s barely able to tear himself away to go shower.

———

“They’re everywhere,” says Kayla in disgust, peeling a long, curly strand off her shirt. “I haven’t been in the same room as him in two days. This is a brand-new shirt. How am I still somehow covered in his hair?”

“He’s like a dog,” Austin explains. Nico snorts. “He sheds, and at first it’s subtle, here and there, you get used to it. The suddenly two years go by and people are complimenting the fur coat that was not fur before you bought it.”

Gracie sticks out her bottom lip, eyes watering. “Will is not a dog, he’s a boy!”

Austin groans, muttering something about favourites and annoying older brothers and where was this energy when I ate the last secret cabin twinkie and was accused of being a ratbag, huh, Gracie, where was my defense squad and annoying older brothers again. Gracie is unmoved by his whining, glaring at him with big green eyes — ever her oldest brother’s defender.

Nico hides a smile in his hand. No wonder, with how Will dotes on her. On all his siblings, really, but only Yan and Gracie are young enough that it doesn’t embarrass them.

Kayla and Austin, on the other hand. (At this point, Will enjoys embarrassing them in front of their friends as much as the actual doting.)

Kayla, weak to her sister’s pouting, pokes her playfully in the side. “I’m only teasing, Gracie-girl. Of course Will isn’t a dog.”

“Except the shedding, and the constant yapping, and the fact that if you don’t let him loose to run around for a while he goes batty, and of course the following Nico around like a lovesick pup—”

“Thank you, Austin,” Nico interrupts, clearing his throat. He sends a quick prayer of thanks to his father for hair genetics covering his flaming ears.

Austin snickers. “Anytime.”

After three years it’s futile, but sometimes Nico really considers rescinding his doctor’s note. Is sitting here during meals really worth his peace? Is it?

“He really does shed, though,” Kayla says after a moment of silence. She pinched yet another hair off her shirt, sighing. “Like, not to agree with Austin or anything —”

“Hey!”

“— but, like, damn. If he’s been there, you know it.”

Nico snorts. “Tell me about it. I keep finding hair on my pillows, it’s driving me insane.”

It does drive him insane. He finds it in the shower — although to his credit Will really does try to get them all there — and in his hairbrush, on his clothes, his sheets, his mattress. The floor. Once, notably, on the shrine in his cabin, after which Will had panicked and sprinted to the pavilion to scrape an entire pot roast and pray not to get smited, leaving Nico to laugh himself to tears at the base of it.

Too late, he notices the total silence at the Apollo table, the wide eyes boring holes into his head, the loose, dropped jaws.

“What?” he says, shoulders curled defensively.

As soon as the word leaves his mouth, realization dawns on him. He chokes on a grape.

“You two didn’t tell us?” Austin demands. “How long has this —” he gestures vaguely at Nico and at the infirmary, which, he assumes, is meant to represent Will — “been going on?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he wheezes. With his rapidly asphyxiating brain, he attempts to summon his boyfriend, still conked out, via sheer force of will. GET THE HELL UP AND COME RUN DAMAGE CONTROL, he screams silently.

Predictably, this does nothing.

Kayla shrieks. “Oh my gods, look at his face! They’ve been doing this forever!”

Nico bangs his hands on the table, trying at once to convey his protest and also hi, hello, children of the god of medicine, I am choking to death, fix please. Neither signal gets picked up, inhabitants of the table erupting an a screeching series of questions so loud that other campers notice, understand, and approach, equally as screechy.

“Will and Nico are together?”

“Holy shit! Since when?”

“I thought they’d never get out of the pining stage!”

“Don’t they hate each other?”

“Bro, are you stupid? Do you not know what bad flirting is?”

“Hey, is di Angelo turning purple, or is that just me?”

Throwing himself into the nearest shadow, Nico disappears.

———

“Get up, get up, I fucked up, I fucked up!”

Will shoots straight upright with a gasp, force of his own body sending him careening right over the side of the bed. He goes down in a tangled heap of cursing and yelping and ow, fuck, shit-damns.

“What happened?” he demands as soon as he’s free from his fabric prison. He rushes (stumbles) over to wear Nico is still wheezing, hands braced on his knees, for dizziness now as much as to catch his breath. “Neeks, woah, slow down for a sec. Deep breaths with me.”

He tries to follow along to Will’s exaggerated breathing, steady, long inhales and exhales. A calloused hand touches the curve of his neck, warmth blooming under it, and suddenly his airways are cleared.

“Thanks,” he manages hoarsely, breathing back somewhat under control.

Will squeezes his hand. “No problem.”

There are several pillow creases criss-crossing on his cheeks, making him look soft and sleepy, although his eyes are alert, crinkled in poorly-concealed amusement. His hair is somehow more mussed than when Nico left him this morning.

“What happened?”

“So I. Um.” Nico clears his throat. “Your bother was roasting you for shedding like a dog. I, of course, had to join —”

Will rolls his eyes, mouth twitching. “Of course.”

“— and I mentioned super casually that I get your hair all over my shit, right? And, well — well.”

“Well?” Will prods, when Nico cuts himself off. Chancing a glance, Nico finds he doesn’t look angry, or nervous, or disappointed — and of course he wouldn’t. Not for something as silly as this.

He is gonna laugh, though. Nico hates when he’s righteously clowned.

“Well, I.” He lowers his voice to a mumble. “May have said something about all of your hair that ends up on my pillows.”

For a moment it’s silent. Nico keeps his eyes trained away, although he leans into Will’s touch, his hands in his face, the side of his neck, the warmth thrown off his sleep-addled body.

He’s almost startled by the giggle.

Almost.

“…Oh, you dumbass.”

He tries very hard to look annoyed as Will cracks up. He taps his foot, crosses his arms, and tries very, very hard to frown, but Will’s laugh has always been the most musical thing about him, and he loves to serenade. And Nico is very weak to song.

“Stop laughing at me,” he snaps, without heat.

Will’s cheeks puff up from the force of him trying, face going red around the edges.

“I’m trying, Neeks, I am —”

“Not very hard.”

“I am, I am.” Valiantly, he draws in a deep breath, only breaking into giggles twice before managing to hold a somewhat straight face. “Nico,” he says, suddenly very close and very warm, “I love you.” He presses a kiss to his forehead. “And I love sneaking around with you —” the bridge of his nose — “and making out in dark closets —” his cheeks, both, quickly, one after the other — “and behind the Big House —” the base of his jaw — “and in the —”

“I get it,” Nico interrupts, flushing. He can feel the curve of Will’s smile against his skin.

“My cabin, if it’s empty,” Will murmurs, kissing the underside of his jaw, his neck. “Yours.” Slight nip of his teeth. Nico gasps.

“Will,” he whispers. His knees start to shake. “Will, c’mon, we gotta —”

Will presses a kiss square to his Adam’s apple, lingering. “We’re in yours quite a lot. I’ve gotten used to it, honestly, Neeks, I —”

The door bangs open, making both of them yelp. The matching screeches to not help the general air of panic and sitcom level foolishness.

“Oh my gods, you really are porking!”

“Get out, Kayla!” they both yell together.

“Jesus,” Will curses, forehead resting on Nico’s shoulder.

Nico bites his lip. Will shifts, turning to meet his eye.

They last two whole seconds before losing it.

“Three years of sneaking around without so much as a soul finding out,” Nico huffs as Will snickers. “Three whole years.”

Will pecks him loudly and exaggeratedly on the cheek. “And endless more in the open.”

“You’re such a goddamn cheeseball.”

“And yet you’re in deep, deep love with me.”

“…I am.” He cradles his face, pressing a kiss, finally, to his lips. Will presses back, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

[silhouetteonpaper]

The Cycle of Grief

Summary: When your brother passed away, the only person you could blame was yourself. Now that the grief has consumed you, there’s only one thing left to do. But what happens when a certain someone threatens to spoil your plans? Natasha Romanoff x Reader WC: 1,462 Warnings: Running away, grief, mentions of sibling death, veryyy angsty

Under the dark cover of night, you slip through the tall glass doors of the compound with quiet footsteps. Your heart is full of grief; there’s not a thought in your mind making you want to stay any longer. You don’t want to be a burden, and it’s always easier to isolate yourself than to ask for help. How is anyone supposed to help you anyways?

The deep blue night sky is freckled with stars, and you can’t help but take a moment to admire them. It reminds you of the time when you and your brother would sit out in an empty field and point out constellations. You never thought much of it at the time, but now everything inside you yearns for just one more moment with him—one more chance to sit and stargaze with the person you loved most.

But he’s gone now, killed in battle after you begged him to fight alongside you and the rest of the team. It’s all your fault. So, the only thing left to do now is to run; far away from the compound, far away from the life you once shared with your other half. Because now it’s too empty without him.

The backpack slung over your shoulder contains anything you might need for the journey ahead; from snacks, to clothes, to a pistol you stole from the training room—just in case. You don’t know where you’re headed, but you don’t care as long as it’s far away from the shattered pieces that now linger here at the compound.

All those days spent training alongside your brother, all those times he kept you motivated to be the Avenger you so desperately wanted to be. And for what? To kill him in return? There’s blood on your hands, and you can’t just wash it off.

The soft sound of your sneakers on the concrete fill the silence of dusk. The distant view of the city skyline makes you swallow thickly; you don’t hate many things—but you won’t hesitate to feel hatred toward this city. Towards the Avengers. Towards yourself.

The dark silhouettes of oak trees tower over you as you near the edge of the driveway. Several jets sit unattended on the small tarmac, but you know better than to take one. Not only would the loud engine wake everyone up, but each one has a tracking device. Your exact path pinned up for everyone to see doesn’t really support the whole ‘disappear’ part of your plan.

As you begin to trek down the long road ahead, it’s hard to stop your mind from wandering. A cacophony of what if’s steal your attention. Maybe, if you weren’t such a try-hard, he wouldn’t have died. How did you ever believe you could be a superhero? Superheroes don’t kill their own. If you had just agreed to let him stay home, he’d still be alive. It’s all your fault.

You’re so lost in your despair that a sudden noise makes you flinch. “You have ten seconds to explain what you’re doing here.” A voice appears behind you, the dissonant thoughts now scrambling away. You turn abruptly, a scowling face with red hair greeting you. It’s Natasha.

“Going for a walk, leave me alone.” You brush her off, turning back on your charted path. The last thing you need right now is for another Avenger to give you some speech about how great you are, how you’re destined to be a hero. Last time they said that, you ended up killing your brother. Those words are just empty lies now.

A part of you expected Natasha to relent, but you know better than to doubt the most headstrong woman you’ve ever met. She doesn’t speak, but instead walks alongside you in silence. You eye her with furrowed brows, and she seems unbothered while gazing at the tall trees and starry sky.

“What are you doing?” You question, slightly picking up the pace. She matches your speed easily.

“You said you’re going for a walk,” Natasha shrugs. “Am I not allowed to join?” Now you understand, the Widow knows something’s up. It was naive of you to believe you could fool her. Everyone knew how close you were with your brother, it’s only natural that when he died you’d be beside yourself. But what you hoped no one saw was the undying urge to run. Maybe if you ran far enough, you could forget any of this ever happened.

“I just want to be alone, please Nat.” You breathe, using everything in your power to stay calm. You can’t show your anger, that would only make her even more suspicious of your plans for tonight.

She’s silent for a moment. “Why, so you can sit in self pity?” Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. Natasha’s always been blunt, valuing tough love instead of coddling. But right now it stings even more than usual.

“So I can think. Just get some air and clear my head.” You partially lie. That’s practically why you’re running away, to fully clear your head of this nightmare. You just left out the ‘never coming back’ part.

“No, you’re running from your problems.” Natasha states without even looking your way. Your heart skips a beat, does she know? You don’t want to give yourself away, so you opt to dance around the subject.

“I’ll deal with my problems how I want. There’s nothing wrong with a bit of night air and some alone time.”

She chuckles, which makes the anger rise inside you. How is any of this funny to her? “There’s a difference between dealing with your problems and locking them away forever. There’s a difference between alone time and full isolation. You can’t live like this.” She stops walking, turning to face you.

You slow down, avoiding eye contact. You try to speak, but she’s not done yet. “I know you lost someone extremely important, but you can’t let yourself suffer just because he had to.”

“If you’re going to tell me that this isn’t what he’d want, I don’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to fight that day and I made him!” You cry out, the tears brimming in your eyes. For a split second, you can almost see a matching glint of mist in Natasha’s eyes under the moonlight.

“You blame yourself.” She says softly. You can hear the pang of heartache in her voice.

“I do,” You admit with tears now rolling down your cheeks. “I know you do too, for everything in your past. But you can’t use that as a reason now, not for this.”

“I’m not saying it’s the same, I’m saying that you don’t have to confine yourself to a life of misery. Just because he’s dead doesn’t mean you have to be too.” All the air in your lungs suddenly disappears. The anger, the grief, the overwhelming-never ending terror—it all washes over you at once.

Sobs escape your lips as your knees buckle beneath you. Natasha’s right there, grabbing your arms as you both lower to the ground. He’s dead, but that doesn’t mean you are too.

As your world continues to crash down, you see the reality of what you were planning to do. Running away to some far off city, to do what? To sulk, to isolate yourself, to sit in sorrow for the rest of your life? That’s as close to dead as someone can get while still being alive.

You don’t know how much time has passed when the initial tsunami of emotions finally subsides, but you find yourself buried into Natasha’s chest, her arms wrapped around you tightly as her hand caresses the back of your head.

Sniffing away the remaining tears, you think about moving—standing up and walking farther and farther away from any sign of support or love. But you don’t. It feels too good. After weeks without it, you long for it. You didn’t even know that what you truly needed was right in front of you this whole time.

So, you sit in silence. You let Natasha hold you. And you let yourself stay stationary, feeling the emotions you’ve suppressed for days on end. Because you don’t need to run when all you need is right here with you.

After a while, Natasha shifts. “Why don’t we get into bed?” She proposes, still refusing to be the one to pull back first. The idea of laying down and turning your mind off sounds wonderful, so you nod. 

As you stand up with Nat’s help, she looks at you with a saddened smile. “I’m glad you’re choosing to stay. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever left.”

She’s known this whole time, and you’re not even surprised.

[xhopelesslyromanticx]

Selfish - Lando Norris x Reader (ft.Oscar Piastri)

Masterlist

part 2

warnings: mentions of alcohol, s*xual references, contains cheating

summary: Lando can’t be with you. He had told you so countless times. But somehow seeing you with his very own teammate makes him regret his decisions. A twisted game starts, the only question is; who’s gonna end up winning?

„Who?“ Lando chocked on his food, almost spilling the drink in his hand as he sat at dinner table with his friends, letting the evening slowly ring out at his absolute favorite restaurant in Monte Carlo. It had been a long although fun day of all sorts of activities as you had all gone out on his yacht. Coming back you were all a bit sunburnt and tired, not wanting to cook you went out for dinner. Figuring you may head to a couple of bars later as you all enjoyed your time together as well as the first really warm days in Monaco.

„Mister Piastri.“ Max chuckled, wiggling his eyebrows in such a goofy way you swore you could feel the ick forming in your bones. So he quickly earned a punch from you straight into his upper arm as you chewed on your food silently. Your hair still slightly wet from having gotten ready in the matter of minutes at Landos place. Wearing almost no makeup as your freckles had started to come through.

„You‘re dating Oscar?“ Lando basically yelled as he put his drink down, causing a loud thud catching the attention of the tables next to you. You akwardly smiled at the elderly people who sent your friends a disapproving glare. It was always loud when the four of you were together. Max was your brother and that would basically end in bickering ninety percent of dinners. Ria wasn’t that quiet either. And Lando, well, he was Lando. The life of the party. His smile would be contagious and his laughter could lighten every situation. There wasn’t ever a dull moment around him.

„Shh!“ you shushed Lando as you kicked Maxs leg under the table. Ria next to you chuckled, scrolling through her phone. Max squealed in pain, allthough you knew he was being overly dramatic once again „Shut it Max!“

„What? It’s true?“ Lando now continued looking clearly disturbed. Unbelievable. You stared at the Brit before rolling your eyes in an unfaced manner. Lando shouldn’t care right? He had made it pretty clear he didn‘t. So you hoped he‘d not cause a scene now. Allthough you were pretty sure he wouldn’t in front of Max. That had been his ground rule right? Max couldn’t know.

„We‘re not dating.“ you responded never the less, staring at the young Mclaren driver who’s curly hair was sitting ever so perfectly today. Max couldn‘t help but let out a chuckle as you side eyed him. He could really be so goddamn annoying, he made your blood boil. But that‘s a normal thing for siblings to do.

„Oh, sorry. You guys are just hooking-“ Max continued, nibbling on his chicken wing.

„That’s even worse!“ Landos interrupted his friend, wiping his hands on a napkin. His appetite had just left him. His plate still half full. Hi voice was as high pitched as you ever thought it could get. Now your brother sent his friend a questioning look as Ria next to you crossed her arms, very aware of Landos never ending bullsh*t when it came to you.

„How’s that worse?“Max now asked, awkwardly chuckling. He knew Lando was your best friend as well. But of course he didnt get why he‘d be so upset about this. He thought he was just being protective. Ria now raised her brows looking at you, you looked defeated as Lando almost seemed disgusted. His face scrunched up as he stared you down.

„Yeah, why do you care?“ Ria now added fuel to the fire. It was sassy and Lando knew why. He knew Ria knew about everything. She was your best friend. She had already confronted him before but he mostly told her to mind her own business. This was between the two of you. It always would stay this way. Plus it ended months ago.

„I-I…“ Lando stuttered holding up his hands as if to prove he was innocent. He looked at you and then at Max „Look I dont care I just didn’t think Oscar was her type.“

You bit your tounge. Weak shot Norris. You knew Lando still thought you were not over him. Which you‘d never admit to, had some truth to it. But Oscar was nice. He was a decent guy, he treated you with respect and you two had fun. It was the perfect distraction, only Max had to ruin it again. Ruin it by making Lando aware of it. You knew how Lando could be when it camr to you dating other guys. You hadn‘t purposely gone for the teammate. I just happened. A glance at the paddock. A social media follow and just like that the Aussie slid into your dm‘s

„Why not?“ Ria now scrunched her nose, sounding honestly confused at Landos absolute nonsense. Who was he to say, who your type was?

„Well, he-„ Lando now started as he stared straight at Ria. He had no real answer on how he knew. He couldn’t say because he himself was your type. Not in front of Max. „He‘s younger than her. Which I didn’t know she was into-“

„Oh trust me.“ Ria now smirked as you buried your face in your hands not wanting to know what was coming next „Judging from the sounds coming from her room at night she is totally in-“

„Eww!“ Lando and Max now yelled out at the same time. You were bright red now but couldn’t help but giggle, your hand covering your mouth as you looked at Ria. She winked at you. God, you loved her sometimes. She could make anyone uncomfortable. Especially someone who was messing with you. Ria loved Lando as a friend, yet she hated how he had treated you. It wad equally possible. Luckily Max chenged the subject rather quickly after that. Not interested in hearing about his sisters s*x life.

You ignored Landos stares on you for the rest of the dinner and thanked god when it finally ended. The minutes seemingly not passing at all. Lando payed, inviting you all before the group left the restaurant. Stepping out onto the streets of Monaco at night. It was Friday, the weekend just starting so the place had been packed. You guys had to wait for Landos car to arrive, so Ria and Max used the chance to go to the restroom leaving just Lando and you to wait outside.

The Brit played with his yellow team quadrant cap as he watched you type on your phone. The sound of your nails tapping against the screen triggering him beyond measures. He normally wasn’t this petty. He knew he had no right to say anything. But he was annoyed you had to go for his teammate out of all guys. It seemed like you were doing it to get back at

„Who are you texting?“ he blurted out, immediately hearing how weird it sounded. So much on letting your impulsiveness win. But that smile on your face, he couldn’t help it. He had to know if it was him. He wanted to know everything. Had you kissed Oscar? Had you slept with him? It made Lando sick to think about it.

„You talking to me?“

„Who else?“ Lando sassed back. God he hated your attitude. He loved and hated it at the same time.

„None of your business.“ you stated, sending him a fake smile before continuing to text whoever was on your phone. Lando rolled his eyes pacing back and forth. It had to be Oscar. He awkwardly stood there for a while, figuring he better should not say anything else. But adding fuel to the fire was his thing.

„You know it’s not my business if you‘re hoeing around. But it is when you choose to f*ck my teammate.“

„Excuse me-“ you looked up. You couldn’t believe Lando’s choice of words. Once again. You open your mouth wanting to say something but to Lando‘s luck Max came out running before hejumped onto his back the next second. Holding onto Lando like a monkey.

Your mouth still hubg open as you watched Lando put on a fake smile. He spent the next minutes fooling around with Max before his car arrived. Ria came back as the guys stepped into the car, tipping the guy who had brought it. She put her hand on your shoulder, immediately sensing something was up „You okay?“

„He‘s such a d*ck!“

You remember how Lando would always pick on you when you were kids. It lasted till you were teens. He had made it his duty to make fun of you with Max at any chance. But he also was always first in line to protect you. Even more then Max. Every boy Max hated, Lando hated more. Every night you went out he made sure to drop you off and pick you up. He was always there. That all changed. Changed over something so stupid. He had to go and do it. Make you feel special for a second. Making you wait all these years, hoping he‘d finally come around. Finally stand up and tell Max he was with you.

Lando had been your first everything. Your first kiss. Your first time. Your first heartbreak. Max didn’t know. He‘d never forgive him. Or so Lando always thought. Not after lying for so many years. Always telling Max he didn’t know.

He didn’t know where you spent the night; you were laying in his arms hours prior.

He didn’t know where that hickey came from; it had been him the night before.

He didn’t know why you were crying and locking yourself in your bedroom; he had told you he was dating someone else.

You almost couldnt believe the thing went on for so long. It was stupid of you to wait for Lando. You always waited. Lando didn’t know this; you hadn’t gotten with any other guy ever. You had pretended so. To make him jealous as he’d get with all these girls when he was traveling. Or so you assumed. It was a year ago you and Lando officaly ended it. Or he did.

He had always told you; it couldn’t be more than sex. His long hugs and midnight chats were what fooled you. The way he’d caress your hair, whisper into you ear when he thought you were sleeping. But you should have just believed him; It didnt mean anything to him. It never had.

„Ahhh! Your breaking my heart!“ you yelled over the loud music. Earning nothing but a chuckle from Ria as you threw your arm around Oscars neck. The Aussie ,who was holding your waist to ensure you wouldn’t fall or trip over, smirked as he shook his head at your clumsiness. He thought it was endearing though. You were a cute kind of drunk. Much more affectionate than when you weren’t though.

„C‘mon Y/n? I told you I dont dance!“ he defended himself. He had told you as you had called him two hours ago basically begging him to come to this night club. He had just gotten his first own place in Monte Carlo and didn’t really go out much yet. Especially not to dance. But after you had done the most to convince him on the phone the Aussie somehow agreed to come.

Only when he did, he found you hanging over the bar already totally wasted with Ria just laughing her ass off. But Oscar didn’t judge. He loved to see you have fun, so he refused the drinks himself so he‘d be able to get you home safely.

„You’re so-“you grabbed the young guys face, pinching his cheeks and pecking his lips as he just chuckled „You‘re cute.“

„Am I?“ you asked, eyes wide open.

„Piastri.“ Oscar looked away from you seeing his very own teammate and your brother approach him. His heart stopped for a second. He hadn’t told Lando he was seeing you. He had avoided it, knowing the Brit could get weirdly protective over you. So Oscar didn’t know how to react as he just looked at you before muttering through gritted teeth „You didn’t tell me they were here-“

„Who?“ you slurred, placing your head against his shoulder. Your hand going into his hair, his oddly soft hair. Oscar knew the position you two were in already looked bad enough. He didn’t tell Lando he was seeing one of his best friends and he had avoided Max at all costs. So this wasn‘t exactly the ideal way to come clean about it.

„What are you doing here?“ Lando asked, not even greeting the Aussie. But he couldn’t, you were all over Oscar. Lando hated the sight of it. He had thought about it all week since finding out. Now seeing it. The image was gonna be forever engraved in his mind.

„She called me.“ Oscar stated, his mouth dry as Ria punched Maxs shoulder. Because Max was giving Oscar an unnapproving look, which caused the young guy to look terrified.

„She‘s drunk.“ Lando stated pointing at you, as Oscar still was doing the most to help you stand straight. He hated the way he held you. Wanting to rip his dirty fingers off you. He felt like he had been robbed. Robbed even though he knew you werent his. You hadn’t been for so long. The younger Mclaren driver scrunched his eyebrows together, he had no idea why Lando was being so rude to him. He had thought Max had been harsh when they first met. But Lando. Lando was on another level.

„I know. I was just gonna get her home.“ the australian guy stated but was interrupted by Lando walking up to him, grabbing your arm as he forcefully pulled you towards him. Oscar looked dumbfolded as Lando raised his eyebrows, you just laying your head on whatever shoulder it now was. Feeling your head spin. Maybe you had drunk a little too much.

„You always pick up drunk girls at the club?“ Lando spat out. It was a low blow. Even Max found it a little over the top, he tried to stop Lando but was held back by Ria telling him to stay back. Not wanting your brother to make things worse for you.

„What the hell mate?“ Oscar chuckled, trying to overplay the uncomfortableness as people around them were catching on the dispute. Probably thinking Oscar was some d*ck, trying to pick up drunk women. The young guy looked at Lando and then back at Max as if to try to tell him that was bullshit. Oscar didn’t realy care for Lanfos approval. You weren’t his sister. So he didn’t understand why Lando was being such a douche.

„Let it go. She’s not going home with you.“

Lando woke up to loud banging on his bedroom door. He tossed and turned before letting out a frustrated groan. Looking at his phone next to him, god it was early. With a sigh he got up and stumbled to the door, opening it to whoever was causing the unpleasant disturbance so early in the morning.

„What?“ Lando yelled before even seeing who it is. A finger is immediately placed on his naked chest as he looks down at your small frame. He has to prevent himself from laughing, your hair was sticking out into every direction as your smudged makeup made you resemble what he only could describe as a racoon. Or maybe a panda?

„You!“ your voice was deep, signaling Lando that you were mad. He raised his brows as his lips twitched nervously „Me?“

„This is not funny!“ you now yelled, pushing Lando into the room and closing the door behind you. You didn’t want Max and the whole house to hear what you were about to say. A part of living with all your friends you hated.

Lando stood there with only his underwear on as he awaited for you to go off on him with crossed arms.

„You are such a piece of sh*t!“

„I am?“ he chuckled, shaking his head as he placed his hand over his heart. Faking being offended. It was quite obvious to you, that Lando did not take this serious at all and it made you even more mad. It was like it was all a game to him.

„So tell me.“ he licked his lips looking at you with a disgustingly sly grin „Why am I a piece of shit?“

„I woke up to Oscars texts telling me exactly how you literally bullied him out of the club last night!“ you yelled, hearing how childish it sounded. But Lando was immature, it was no secret. He could act like a literal teenager if he wanted to and it made you hair stand up.

„No, No.“ Lando now stated, shaking his head hearing what he was accused of. He knew it was true, but he‘d never admit to „I only didn’t let him take you home. You were absoluetly sh*tfaced!“

„Why do you care if I go home with him?“ you yelled, wanting to rip his head off. Lando clenched his jaw, shaking his head. He knew you both knew why he cared. He hated the thought of you with someone else. He had no right to. So he could never admit it but it was the truth.

„I-I…“ he tried to come up with some logical explanation. But all Lando ever knew was excuses when it came to you. „I don’t want him or any guy to take advantage of drunk girls.“

„Oh, how mighty big of you.“ you hissed shaking your head. You knew it was bullshit. Lando wasn’t like some feminist king going around to protect girls. You turned around, done with his lies as you walked towards the door but before leaving the room you made sure to look back „Just so you know, if anyone’s allowed to take me home while drunk. It isn’t you! Its my boyfriend.“

Boyfriend. That word rang through Landos ears all day long. He couldn’t wrap his head around it. Surely Oscar wasn’t your boyfriend yet. He had not told him so last night. He would have surely used it against him? Lando thought about it. It even kept him awake at night. Tossing and turning at the thought of you laying in Oscars arms. You weren’t home. He knew you were probably with him. Within seconds he pulled out his phone. He cursed himself for having to get up early for work the next day before he picked your contact name as he started typing.

Is Oscar really your boyfriend?

No too blunt.

Are you actually serious about Oscar?

No too passive aggressive.

Can we talk please?

Delivered 00:12 AM

„Be careful!“ you yelled out at Oscar as you looked back at the young guy hopelessly struggling on his bike. Riding bikes along the promenade was new to him. Luckily you were an expert, and the guy dressed in his orange Mclaren shirt just had to follow and hope not to embarass himself too badly. Allthough he knew you‘d never let him feel that way.

„Watch out!“ Oscar screamed at some pedestrians, who were busy taking pictures as they all cursed at him. A guy even holding up a middle finger towards him. You never laughed so hard as you could hear Oscar tell him off in a typical Oscar way, very politely and respectful he had told the guy it was rude. There were so many people here for the Gran Prix this weekend. Some even snapping pictures as they recognized the young rookie.

„That was fun.“ you jumped off your bike as soon as you arrived in front of the already busy paddock. It was only free practice day but the place was still packed with lots of visitors and press. Oscar tried to lock up his newly purchased bike, clearly struggling as he panted for air „Yeah was fun.“

You giggle looking at the young guy who you were convinced wouldnt get the lock on that bike on his own „C‘mon Piastri.“

He stood up as he looked at your smile, clearly defeated. He held the key towards you and just as you were about to take it Oscar grabbed your chin going in for a kiss. You smiled at the gesture as you wrapped your arms around his neck, deepening the kiss not caring if anyone saw. Just as Oscars hand made it’s way down your back and stopped right above your hips a loud noise went off.

You and Oscar jumped apart, at the loud sound of the car horn. Looking to where it was coming from. Your eyes locked with the guy sitting behind the tinted windows. Lando was sitting in his Mclaren holding his hands up as if to claim innocence and pretend he hadn‘t just done that on purpose. He mouthed a short „Sorry“ before getting out his car putting on his sunglasses.

„Morning Oscar.“ Lando strolled past you chewing on his gum, not even acknowledging your presence. You looked after the guy in the white shirt as you rolled your eyes. He could be so goddamn cocky. Oscar only seemed confused. He even laughed it off, figuring Lando had really not intended to do that. You grabbed the Aussies hand as you stomped towards the entrance of the paddock. Oscar just following you, confused on why you were so tense all of the sudden.

„Y/n.“ he stated, stopping in his tracks as you tried to pull him further. You sighed looking back defeated, shrugging your shoulders. Oscar mustered you. That frown. Something clearly was bothering you and it had to do with Lando. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was though. He was scared that by asking, he‘d overstep boundaries. You weren’t offical yet. Despite all the rumors.

„What just happened?“ he knew it. He sensed it. It had been like your world had just turned around. You had looked at Lando so briefly yet it said so much. So much Oscar didn’t understand. Maybe hedidn’t even phantom it as it happened so quick. Cause if he had. If he had looked really hard, he‘d see a girl who was clearly still hung up on someone else.

„Nothing.“ you brushed it off, your lips pressed together.

Oscar knew you were lying. Only he didn‘t have the guts to tell you.

„Alright.“ he nodded, was he mad? You knew you were acting like a bitch. Oscar didn’t derserve this. He deserved someone less complicated. Someone who didn’t lie and hurt people. To your suprise Oscar reached out his hand to you. You hesitated before you took it. You both continuing to make your way inside the paddock. Oscar placed a kiss on your temple just before cameras spotted you „You know you can tell me anything right?“

Anything. You were watching the practice from inside the garage as you felt his presence next to you. He just stood there with crossed arms, his mouth moving. Luckily you couldn‘t understand at least not before taking off your headset that one of the staff members had given you.

„What?“ you sighed looking at Lando who had just gotten out his car early, due to a mechanical issue completely unsatisfied with his performance and the performance of the car. Things could literally only get better. On and off track.

„I said: what are you doing here?“ the Mclaren driver repeated, looking rather unwell with his hair sticking to the sweat dripping down his forehead. The bags under his eyes telling you exactly what you knew already.

„Watching?“ you sassed back, eyes on the screen as you kept your voice low to not catch the attention of anyone. Oscar was still out there to your luck, so there stood no chance of him witnessing what was about to go down.

„Since when do you come to watch free practice?“ he hissed, shaking his head as you completely ignored eye contact. It drove Lando mad. Especially since you wore that. His favorite white dress. He had gotten it for you; you were now wearing it for another guy.

„Since I was invited.“ you now look at him, hoping the harsh tone in your voice would just shut him up once and for all. But Lando just rolled his eyes, getting closer to you before grabbing your arm and pulling you all the way back to his drivers room. You didn‘t do anything, knowing it was time you settled this. Also your legs became pudding just before. You might act all tough but Lando made you incredibly nervous. He looked different this weekend. Grown up.

„You have one hell of an audacity to show up here for a guy who you are clearly not into, in a dress that I payed for.“

You swallowed. 1:0. You couldn’t let that sit.

„Oh, yeah Oscar picked it out this morning.“ you put on a fake smile, basically feeling Landos pulse as you two stood so close. You couldn‘t help it. A glance down at his lips. Was he trying to grow a beard? F*ck. „He also told me how he‘s looking foward to taking it off me tonight.“

Lando clenched his jaw. He wasn’t stupid. He saw those wandering eyes. So he did the one thing that his impulsive mind wanted him to.

„Shut up.“ he muttered before smashing his lips onto yours. You were taken aback. But god. That feeling. Those butterflies. It had only ever been like that with him. You kissed back. You missed him. It had been a whole year. You hadn’t forgotten though. Your hands wrapping around Landos neck pulling him closer as his hands gripped your bare thighs, wandering under your dress. It was a short lived pleasure because as soon as his hand had reached your hips the door was ripped open.

„Lan- What?“

[flamingpudding]

Part 3 of Ghost Kid in Gotham

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Feral brother of mine

When Damien first saw the video from Todd's helmet he only thought of his older brother as an imbecile that apparently couldn't handle children that was until Drake paused the video on the child's face before the video cut off.

Then Richard pointed out the similarities to Damien and of course his first thought was that his mother had made another clone again that they would need to dispose of. That was until he took a closer look at the image when Drake zoomed in. It was still blurry but Damien would recognise that face anywhere and in any state.

Despite his memory being faded it was the face of someone he never wanted to forget and would let freely hunt his dreams. Even if it was to recall the good times or even the bad times through nightmares. Freckles that mirrored constellations and scar by the ear from a training session when the others' dodging ability had not yet been up to par when they were five. Hair longer than his own and less tameable.

Danyal Al Ghul.

His twin that he killed at the age of eight when their grandfather forced them into a fight to death. This was not a simple clone of Damien himself and the teen was pretty sure that his mother must have lost it. Because what else then a clone of his own brother could this be, she probably must have preserved some of Danyal's DNA if not his entire body for this. He must also applaud her cruelty, for the clone was at the exact age his brother had died at.

He does not know why nor how his mother had managed to cause glowing Lazarus green eyes. None of his clones had ever shown these before but a part of him didn't want to know. It already made him sick enough to know that his mother would go so far as to clone Danyal.

All he wanted was to get rid of this cruel clone that wore his long dead brother's face. The knowledge of his brother was something Damien held dear. It was something that belonged to him only and the burden of his death was not something he ever wanted to share either. Besides what use would it be to his family to mourn a member they never would have gotten to meet.

Even as he glared at Todd, who had let loose the feral clone. He could not bring himself to tell them that this was most likely not just a simple clone of himself.

"Come on guys, there is a child running around the Bat Cave. You can fight later about how to safely keep the boy in check."

Clicking his tongue he turned away from his older siblings and drew out his katana. "<tt> I will get rid of that thing myself."

A thing, that was what it was. Damien didn't need his personal feelings or his memories of a twin that could smile brighter than the desert sun despite their pain, get in the way of his rationality. He could not allow this mockery of his twin brother to live on.

He went for the darker areas of the Cave knowing the league trained mind and he was in luck as he was the first to find the feral child hidden away in the area that lead to the medbay. By now the thing was even armed. Damien recognised the dagger as one of his training once, he probably had accidentally left it out of its casing after training right before patrol.

The ex-league prodigy did not give the clone time to react as he attacked without warning. Chasing it through the Bat Cave as it avoided his attacks yet made no move to attack him the way it had Todd. At times the way it dodged made Damien stutter slightly something that never happened before. He slashed at it, ignoring his siblings that shouted for him to stop from the side lines. Ignoring the flashes in his mind of a fight years ago that was similar yet so different.

"I will not let this mockery run free." He muttered pointing his blade as it hissed at him in return. What a feral thing it was, he waited for it to make the first move this time. Clones were not perfect, their forms were lacking, They might retain skills of their original but they rarely were the same let alone cable of thinking outside of what their creator, his mother wanted. He pointedly ignored anything he new about certain clones. They weren't created by his mother, therefore did not count in regards to his conclusion. Yet it was painful seeing this mockery of his dead brother appearing like a perfect copy.

The stance it held with the dagger, despite the feral hissing and movements, it was the exact same his brother had. Sword stances, like martial arts stances had a basic form, every wielder learned and then developed further into their own unique one with time. Danyal had one where he tended to hold the dagger or even swords backwards in his left hand while his right arm covered his empty side with a slight tilt to the back, always ready to reach for any weapon he would carry in hidden pockets on his back.

It was painful to see this clone, this thing mimicking his brother's stand this perfectly. Damien could only narrow his eyes in determination, or was it desperation by now? This was just one more reason to get rid of it. It just hurt even more when with a quick gaze towards the hand that held the dagger Damien also noticed a bad habit his brother had always retained and the league had also never been able to train out of him. It was a small habit, unnoticeable if you wouldn't look for it, yet dangerous to the sword / dagger wielder if they were inexperienced.

Danyal tended to let his thumb rest against the guard if the blade had one or against the blade itself even if it didn't have one. He knows that his twin used to have scaring on his thumb from this habit, especially from their early training years.

This thing was even imitating his brother's habit.

He wanted it gone. Rip it apart and present it to his mother with all the anger and grief it brought to him.

"Guys stop Damien now! That is not a clone!" He heard Drake yell from where the Batcomputer was but he didn't care. This was a clone, so he lunged at the it again. Ignoring how the clone had studied him like he had it. Ignoring how its stance had changed the longer they had watched each other and how that thing let its guard down all of a sudden.

"Damien! Stop!"

It dropped all defenses and Damien could only see that as his chance to deal the final blow to get rid of it. But what he didn't expect despite the dropped defenses was for the clone to also just drop the dagger, close its eyes and smile. The same smile that still hunted his nightmares. His mind flashed back to eight years ago.

"Demon brat! Calm the fuck down!"

The blade stopped inches from the same fatal placement that had killed his brother before. Drake and Richard were right behind him while Todd was by the clone's side gripping at the blade with his bare hands, most likely bleeding already.

"Why?" Damien uttered quietly, his eyes trained on the thing. Richard must have thought that his question had been directed towards them stopping him but that wasn't the case.

"Look Dami, how about listening to what Tim found out first before we decide what to do with that child?"

"Not you." He couldn't help but snap back at them as he withdrew his katana, hearing Todd mutter something about sharp blades and bandaids as well as several curses under his breath. His eyes stayed on the thing. "Why would you let me kill you? Why drop your defence ces? Why not dodge?"

The thing titled its head its glowing green eyes were trained on Damien and he noticed how they flickered into a blue that was so familiar yet so different with the way they glowed. It made chirping noises before it whispered something.

"ahbak, Dami"

Damien froze for a moment there at the quiet words the thing had whispered. How was he supposed to react now? Was this even a clone, no he knew this was a clone. There was no way Danyal was alive let alone still eight years old. He had killed his own brother, he had held him in his own arms as Danyal took his final breath, smiling at him and uttering the same words he had just heard again after so many years.

Even if Danyal had survived somehow then he should be the same age as him. Not the age he had died at. Besides, their grandfather would have never allowed them to use the pits to revive his twin.

"FUCK!"

Intentionally or not Todd's outcry had ripped him out of his thoughts by a rather pathetic yowl of pain. It was like a switch had been flipped in the clone's mind as his brother had reached out to probably detain it again. The moment Todd had touched him, the thing had bitten into his hand before letting go, hissing and running away from them once more.

But instead of running after that thing Damien stood frozen in place, his mind still racing. He could feel Richard's hands on his shoulders, grounding the teenager with the warmth they provided. "You okay there Baby Bird? You seem rather out of it suddenly."

"<tt> I am fine." His only offered answer, ignoring the worried looks he was getting as he moved to wipe Todd's blood off his blade. He needed a distraction before his mind became any more chaotic and unreasonable. "What did Drake find out?"

"Right… you sure you want to hear that right now?" Giving Richard an unimpressed stare, the oldest sighed looking over towards Drake.

"Well I got good news and probably bad news." Side eyeing his brother Damien kept silent waiting for him to continue.

"I can safely say that the child is not a clone. His DNA does not 100% match yours. It differs too much but - and this is where it's probably bad news - it matches with you to 45%, with a matching to Bruce to about 50%, same with Talia. If I run a paternity test I am sure it would be a hit for Bruce and Talia."

Damien swallowed taking in that information, knowing what it meant. Was he horrified? Yes. Did it also awaken a strange sort of hope? Also, Yes.

"But there was a third compartment of the child's DNA structure which was impossible to test. It could even corrupt DNA samples if not taken apart from the rest. It probably has something to do with the green specs I found in his blood too. So I ran a substance analysis and - you probably won't like this - but it got a hit from a substance we have recorded in our database."

"What substance?" Damien knew, he just knew he wouldn't like the next words Drake would say. He could feel Richard squeezing his shoulder as if to help him keep stable.

"Lazarus Water. It matched with what we have recorded from the Lazarus Pits."

"Drake, are you telling me that after eight years, my mother who apparently had preserved my dead twin brother's body, dropped said body into the Lazarus Pits to revive him and then drop him off with Todd of all people?"

"Yes, wait… dead twin brother's body?"