#hopefully you enjoy anon!

[bravevulnerability]

I’m not sure if you still take prompts but tbh, I don’t even care, can you write anything you want? Doesn’t have to be long! Just craving some good caskett 😭

A/N: I was either reading a book or watching a tv show, I can't recall, but the simple words of "I'll leave early" got stuck in my brain and shot this idea into my head. Set during 4x19, ‘47 Seconds’, initially before any confessions unknowingly occur on the other side of an interrogation room window. 

-

The knock on the door startles him, has him jerking out of his chair and bumping his hip on the edge of the desk. 

Castle curses under his breath, winces, but carries on into the living room, to the front door. 

It’s late, after midnight, and he hasn’t been able to calm his mind. All he can think about is the victims of the bombing, their loss of life, of opportunity, and how it has selfishly caused him to reflect on those areas of his own life. On Kate. 

He’s going to tell her tomorrow. He has to. What if - god forbid - the world were to end for him the way it did for all of those people today, and it would do so without Kate Beckett knowing he loved her? What if the time they had was so much shorter than they could imagine? What if-

Castle feels the color drain from his face, all of the bravado leaving him, as he swings the door open.

“Beckett,” he greets softly, self-consciously smoothing down the tortured strands of hair that have flown this way and that from the restless push of his fingers. 

She’s in his hallway with her hair falling in those gentle waves around her shoulders, her face devoid of makeup and an NYPD sweatshirt engulfing her slim frame. Kate offers him a weak twitch of her mouth.

“Hey, Castle.” Her voice is soft but gruff, as if it hasn’t been used in hours. “Did I wake you?”

“No, no,” he assures her, stepping back and gesturing for her to come in. Her eyes flicker around the darkened space, as if ensuring his daughter isn’t at the counter, or his mother on the couch. “I was up, trying to write, but after today… I just couldn’t get out of my head.”

The door clicks quietly behind them and he steps up to her side, catches the haunted glimpse of her eyes gravitating back to him. The warm glow of his office beckons them forward, offering privacy and familiarity. She's never said as much, but he thinks she favors his office, the comforting walls of books and the sofa she often curls up on when she stays late to theorize over cases or plot points for his novels.

“Yeah.” She nods, twisting her fingers together in front of her as she follows him inside. He eases the office door closed. Just in case. The last thing he needs is Alexis's scrutinizing gaze peering in. His daughter means well, he knows, but on the topic of Kate, he hopes to maintain some distance. “I know the feeling.”

“Couldn’t sleep?” he tries, sensing there is more to her visit than she is letting on. 

“No,” she admits. “I just - it’s this case. I kept seeing their faces, the crime scene, the senselessness of it. I keep thinking of the victims’ loved ones, what it’s going to do to them.” 

Castle tilts his head, understanding but still curious. Her eyes fall to her feet, the worn toes of her sneakers peeking out from her jeans. 

“It’s selfish, but it - it made me think of what my shooting did to the people I care about, that I love.” She purses her lips and exhales a breath that quivers. “I don’t think I ever apologized to you. Well, beyond the first time I saw you again after your book signing in the fall,” she murmurs, tentatively lifting her gaze to meet his. “For what I put you through.”

“Kate,” he huffs, but she catches the hand he tries to use to wave her off. He stares down at the slim curl of her fingers around his, the kiss of her thumb to the heart of his palm. “You didn’t put me through anything, you were shot. Besides, I’m one of the lucky ones. You’re here.”

“You know what I mean.” Her eyes harden, a fierce hazel, emboldened. “The summer, and… this. The missed opportunities and lost time. The waiting.”

His brow hitches, surprise rippling through his senses. Sure, they’ve talked around his unspoken vow to wait for her, their conversations always edging on everything shy of committing to one another without saying any actual truths. He’s not used to blatant honesty between them.

His hand relaxes within the grasp of hers, their loosely knotted fingers dangling in the space between them.

“I just - I know it’s not necessarily what you signed up for-”

“Beckett, it’s exactly what I signed up for,” he chuckles, tugging gently on their hands and drawing her a step closer. She has to lift her eyes to him without her heels, her vulnerability alive and shimmering in her gaze just a few inches below. “From the first day we met, I signed up for you.”

“We were different then,” she huffs, shaking her head, but he squeezes her hand.

“Yeah, but maybe we’ve been changing for the better.” He shrugs, watching a sliver of hope slice through her pupils. “Maybe the last four years were necessary, to prove we were capable of growing together. Seems worth waiting for to me.”

Kate’s lips quirk, white teeth appearing to contain the smile. 

“You always know how to say something reassuring,” she sighs, but her eyes are dancing with light for him. 

“Plus, you’re only the hottest detective in existence, so I’d be stupid to give up so easily-”

She smacks him with her free hand, her laughter quiet and mingling with his. He catches the other hand at his chest, coats her knuckles with his palm, and feels hers come to a cool rest over his heart. Kate’s laugh gentles into a sigh, her body swaying towards his, and then she’s releasing the hand that was holding his. Her arm snakes around his waist instead, her embrace tentative.

Rick's arms automatically wind around her, the movement as natural as breathing. He feels the sink of her body into his, the exhale of tension against his collarbone as she tucks her forehead against his neck. 

“I love you, Kate,” he whispers, feeling the terror and exhilaration commingling within his chest as the words escape. He expects her to tense, to draw away, but she remains against him. Still, unspeaking, and possibly not breathing, but in his arms with her fingers curled into the t-shirt at his back. “I don’t need you to be ready to say it back, but I don’t want you to forget, to doubt. I’m here.”

Her arm tightens around him, her fingers curling at his chest, as if she could hold fast to the heart beneath her hand. They remain like that for a long moment and he takes the time to appreciate the shape of her in his arms, the scent of her shampoo in his nose, and her nuzzled cheek against his clavicle.

"I don't want you to doubt either," she murmurs, the heat of her breath rushing over the flesh of his throat.

Kate gingerly lifts her head, dark lashes rising and eyes finding his. Her hand splays at the small of back, her fingertips brushing his spine. He swallows hard, begging his heart to steady before she feels the gallop of it between their bodies.

"You're not alone in this, Rick." A tender smile graces her lips, encouraging yet shy. Her eyes fall to his mouth, linger for a moment too long before fluttering back to his gaze. "And I don't think the wait is for much longer."

"N-no?" He clears his throat, watches her smile grow, and he can't help it. He touches a hand to her jaw, unfurling fingers along her cheek, and watches in amazement as she leans into the cup of his palm.

"No," she confirms, covering the back of his hand with one of hers, holding it there as she turns her head and brushes a kiss to his palm that sends a jolt of electricity up his arm.

"Kate," he sighs, giving into the compromise of pressing his forehead to hers.

"Sorry," she mumbles, abandoning his hand to dust her fingers to his chin. He feels the tips of her fingers trail along his jaw, his eyes fluttering closed as her thumb skims his cheek. "I think I should go."

"It's late," he argues, eyes flickering open to find hers watching closely, bottom lip pinned beneath her teeth again. "Just stay. The guest room-"

"Castle, Alexis and your mom-"

"Something tells me Alexis won't even notice since she leaves for classes at the crack of dawn and my mother won't be up until the clock is flashing double digits."

She's considering it, he can tell.

"Stay," he murmurs, forcing himself to draw back and stealing the hand from his face.

"Castle," she huffs when he begins to drag her towards his bedroom.

"Here," he tells her, letting her go to dig through his dresser, retrieving a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. "These should be comfortable, but you're welcome to raid my closet and drawers for other options if-"

She swipes the clothes from him and glowers as she brushes past, heading for his bathroom.

He nervously rearranges his pillows while he waits for her, trying not to pay attention to the sound of running water or the click of the doorknob.

She still looks uncertain when she drops her clothes in the chair beside his bed, her sweater landing on top of his robe, making him stupidly delighted.

"Come on," he says, climbing onto his side of the bed and cutting the lamp lights. He feels the darkness will seal the deal, allow her the courage to crawl under the covers to innocently lie beside him.

He doesn't know when they decided on his room instead of the guest room, but she makes no move to leave now.

He looks anywhere but at her while he slides his legs beneath the comforter, the sheets, and settles onto his back. But his body, his senses, are attuned to her, and he can hear the quiet rustling of her doing the same. When he risks a glance, he can make out the dark mass of her body curled beneath the blankets a few inches away.

"I'll leave early," she breathes into the shadows between them, as if making a promise to them both.

"Kate."

A moment of silence passes and then the mattress is shifting, her body warm and lithe and nestling beside him. He eases his arm around her, feels the welcome weight of her head on his shoulder, the contented sigh of her breath against his neck.

"I'll leave early," she repeats, adamant but soft.

"Go to sleep, Kate," he whispers, resting his cheek against her hair and feeling the restlessness of her quieting.

Her arms curl between them, her cold hands against his ribs, her knees against his thighs. He drifts to sleep savoring the points of contact.

-

When he wakes, Kate is gone. Later, he finds that the shirt he lent her the night before is as well.

-

The next night, when he receives a late knock on his door, he's aware of who will be on the other side and he opens it with anger roiling through his insides.

"You stormed out before I had the chance to explain," she begins immediately, coming into his loft as if she were a storm herself. "I know why you're upset with me, but-"

"Kate, I really think you've said enough today," he cuts her off, keeping his voice low.

It's late, hours since he knows her shift ended. He knows she planned this purposely to avoid his family, to corner him while he was alone.

"What I said to Bobby-"

"Yeah, I already heard it once. I'll pass on a second time," he mutters, locking his front door and leaving her in the entryway.

"Rick." But she follows, of course, chasing him with soft steps to the sanctuary of his office. "It was an interrogation tactic. You're just assuming I was being honest with a suspect," she hisses, easing the office door shut behind her.

Castle crosses his arms and leans back against his desk.

"Fine," he concedes, bitterly. He already knows the answer to his next question, he feels it in his gut, his bones. The horrible truth he's always known. "Do you remember every second of that day? Of being shot?"

Her throat ripples with a swallow, but she exhales steadily, steels herself before she says a word.

"Yes," she confesses, holding his gaze. "I've always remembered."

"Every. Second," he clarifies. Not a question.

Her lips part, the bottom one threatening to quiver ever so slightly. She squares her jaw to stop it.

"Every second," she confirms, her fingers in fists at her sides. "I remember you tackling me, trying to stop the blood, to - to save me."

He casts his eyes away from her, not wanting to remember it, not wanting to recall the feeling of hot blood on his hands, the wide surprise of her eyes, the panicked sound of her gasping for breath beneath him.

"I remember you telling me you love me," she whispers, the words soft but measured. "That was the last thing."

"All this time," he manages, blinking away the horror of those images. "You lied."

"I know," she whispers, exhaling a shaking breath into the silence between them. "I didn't - I didn't know how to face it then. How to be - how to be what I wanted to be for myself, for you. I just... god, Castle. I panicked and if I hadn't been in therapy for the last few months, I'd probably still be lying to you."

He spares a look at her then, the crescents of purple beneath her eyes, the glimmer of moisture making them sparkle in the darkness of the room.

"When I woke up in that hospital room, I didn't feel like a person anymore. The only purpose I've ever felt I had was solving my mother's murder and after the shooting, I didn't think I could survive making room for anything else," she attempts to explain, but he can hear the hitch threatening her throat, the choked sound of her trying not to cry. "I didn't feel worth much else."

Argument bubbles unbidden on his tongue at that, but she speaks first.

"I - I wanted you," she declares, meeting his eyes with a desperation he's never seen in hers. Not for him. "But I didn't feel like I could give what you deserve. I needed to be better first, to heal, to make the room. To acknowledge how important you are to me."

The unshed tears spill over, creating rivulets down her cheeks.

"I love you," she says, but her voice has changed, strengthening with resolve. "I love you, but I wasn't going to screw it up, so I was trying to put in the work. To be more."

Castle doesn't stop her when she takes a step toward him, another.

"I'm sorry." She doesn't touch him, but stands before him, palms up and bare, as if begging. "I should have gone about it all differently, but I - god, I never wanted to hurt you, Rick."

Without thinking, he touches the tear stains on her cheeks, brushing them away with his thumb.

"You don't have to forgive me tonight," she adds softly, staring up at him with tired eyes. "You can stay angry for a while. Just don't - don't give up on me yet."

Shit, she was breaking his heart, siphoning all his resolve.

His fingers slide into her hair, cradling the back of her skull.

"I would never." Her eyes flutter in what looks like relief. "I get it, I do. I just..."

"Hate it," she mumbles, the corner of her mouth twitching ever so slightly.

He shrugs. "I wish we could have done it a little differently, yeah. But I'm not going to hold it against you, Kate, I just need time to process it all."

She nods, her lips pursing resolutely. "Of course."

Her head turns toward the door, but he snags her fingers. She looks to him in askance.

"Will you stay?"

She hesitates. "What about time and space?"

"I didn't say anything about space."

She is not nearly as anxious to crawl into bed with him this time, her body settling beside him without preamble and her arms twining around his torso.

"We're okay, Kate," he promises her, burying the words in her hair as her nose touches his throat and one of her ankles hooks around his.

He rubs her back, tracing the line of her spine through another one of his t-shirts. Eventually, the taut arrangement of bones begins to relax beneath his ministrations and her breathing evens out, her body slack in his arms.

He tries to sleep, but despite all she said, all that has happened over the course of the last few hours, he can't tear his thoughts away from the fact that she loves him. And she said it out loud.

-

Most of the following nights are spent with her appearing on his doorstep or his on hers, the hour often late, but her smile is always worth it. The first time she opened her door to him, after a night of being dressed up for a stint with Colin Hunt - he hated that guy - she was beaming.

"I thought you'd be at home brooding," she'd chuckled, locking the door behind him, pleasing him with her intent to keep him there. "I was about to come to you."

"No, I couldn't wait that long," he admitted, hanging his coat on one of the empty hooks. "I was kinda hoping you'd still be in that dress."

Kate had huffed a laugh, already dressed down in one of the t-shirts she had stolen from him. He had yet to call her out on it because he didn't want to give her a reason to stop.

"Don't worry, Castle," she teased, lifting her hand to his cheek. "I'll save it for another time."

His brow arced at that. "That statement is heavy with implication."

"It was intended to be," she grinned, sauntering to her bedroom.

He had to bring up the case to keep himself occupied after that, but the way she looked at him every time he insulted Mr. Scotland Yard almost made it worse.

Oh yeah, Kate Beckett definitely wanted him. But until she made the next move, he would wait. He wasn't taking any risk of moving too fast when it came to her. Not when he knew this time would be for keeps.

-

The evening they solve the zombie case, she vows to appear at his loft, teasing him that he'll never get that makeup off without her help. He has a laser tag game planned with Alexis that turns into the icing on the cake of his day, with his daughter announcing she will be attending Columbia for college.

Most of his makeup has been scrubbed off, the costume gone, when Kate knocks on the front door.

Alexis glances up from washing the dishes, her brow furrowed. "Were we expecting anyone this late?"

"Just Kate." He tries for nonchalance, but Alexis eyes him with both intrigue and wariness as he starts for the door.

When Castle opens it, she's on the other side as promised. She's changed from her leather jacket and jeans to a soft sweater and yoga pants, looking warm and inviting at his doorstep.

"Oh look, you did a pretty good job," she chuckles, reaching for his nearly cleansed cheek, stroking the bone there.

"I don't know if you'll have better luck," he admits. "Prosthetics and stage makeup leave quite the mark."

"Well," she grins, tapping the bag on her arm. "I brought an extra strength cleanser, so we'll give it a shot."

The water from the kitchen sink is still running, catching her attention. Alexis's presence is likely visible from the doorway, the clinking of dishes going into the dishwasher pointedly loud. He feels nervous but hopeful as he watches Kate determine what to do next.

She lowers her hand from his cheek and bites her bottom lip. "Am I too early?"

"No, not at all." He extends his hand for hers and she slips her fingers into the cove of his, allowing him to guide her inside.

-

"I think she hates me a little less," Kate murmurs, her eyes following the work of the cotton pad she swipes along his skin.

She and Alexis spoke briefly before his daughter went up to bed. Kate had lingered before following him to his en suite bathroom, watching the stairs his daughter had disappeared up with worry lining her face.

"She never hated you," he grunts, wincing when she has to scrub at a spot on his forehead with a little too much vigor. She's been wiping makeup from his skin for the last twenty minutes, standing in front of him while he perched on the edge of his bathtub in his pajamas. "She was upset with me."

"And she's a protective daughter. Trust me, I get it," she assures him gently. Her thumb skims the curve of his eyebrow and he opens his eyes to find her studying him. "I think I should go home tonight, Rick."

He eases his hands onto her hips, watching her brow arch in response.

"I don't want to rush things with Alexis," she elaborates, tossing the cotton pad into the trash and reaching for a clean hand towel.

She dries his face with tender brushes.

"She is unaware you've stayed here at all," he reasons. "I doubt tonight would be any different. Besides, it's late."

"Castle, it's ten," she chuckles, but she hasn't shoved his hands from the resting place of her hipbones. "There's no reason for me to stay."

"No?" He rises slowly from the edge of the tub, holding her gaze the entire time. "What if I need you?"

Her nostrils flare ever so subtly, a tell he's picked up on. She's struggling to ignore him.

"Cuddling is part of our healing journey, Beckett."

She rolls her eyes and shoves on his chest, but doesn't fight the tug of his hand on her arm, the offering of his clothes, his bed.

-

Castle's eyes flutter open. It's barely light out and it's early, he can tell that much upon waking. But something has woken him, the featherlight dance of a touch to his cheek.

As his vision focuses, he sees Kate lying beside him, her fingers migrating from his face to comb through his hair.

He hums and shifts closer to her, burrowing into the warmth of her body.

Her arms wrap around his neck while his band around her spine. Their legs are tangled and her lips are moving against his ear.

"I gotta go," she whispers, turning her head to graze a kiss to his temple.

He sighs and loosens his grip on her, allows her to untangle their limbs.

"See you in a few hours?" she murmurs, one of her hands still reluctant to leave him, draped along his jaw.

"Of course," he yawns, gazing up at her from his pillow.

She bites her bottom lip for a second before leaning forward, lingering there before tilting her head, dusting her mouth to his. Instantly, his senses come alive under the electricity of her lips.

Castle's arms stall in their retreat from her body, reclaiming their hold on her again.

A smile blooms on her mouth before she's kissing him with more confidence, fitting the curve of her lips to his. He hums in response, kisses her back, and feels her body canting into his.

"Mm, Beckett, you make it hard to let you go," he grumbles, feeling more than hearing the rumble of her laughter.

She stains another kiss to his mouth, mumbling a last farewell against the corner of his mouth before regretfully pulling her body from the bed.

-

The storm batters against his windows, lightning illuminating his office as he deletes the murder board on his screen, Kate's face disappearing with the tap of his fingers.

They fought last night in her apartment, his love for her used like a bargaining chip for her life, and it wasn't enough.

He's done. He loves her with a fierce strength and softness, in ways he's never loved anyone else, but he can't watch her throw her life away.

It'll just hurt more.

No, he would rather try and gain as much distance as he can before he gets the call that Kate has become the latest to fall victim to the Dragon's wrath.

The knocking on his door begins with vigor.

He pauses, unsure. His first thought is that it must be Kate and the last thing he wants is another argument. But, it could also be Alexis. He turned his phone off after the third consistent ring with Kate's number flashing across the screen. What if his daughter needed him?

Shit.

He curses himself for his ignorance, vowing to turn the phone back on as soon as he checks the door.

Rick composes his expression, ensuring he doesn't look as hassled as he feels, not wanting to alarm his daughter on her special night if it is her.

He unlocks the door, tugs it open, and feels all of that hard work immediately fall, frown returning instantly at the sight of Kate Beckett.

She's soaked to the skin, dripping rain all over the carpeted hall of the building and the entryway to his loft.

"Beckett," he sighs, his fingers already clenching around the door's edge. "What do you want?"

"You," she whispers, breaching the slim space the door allows and reaching for him.

His body betrays him, moving too slowly to block the ascent of her hands to his face, the rise of her body into his, the adamant press of her mouth.

"You had that," he grunts into her kiss before prying her hands from his cheeks. But he doesn't let her go, he can't. So he holds her captured wrists to his chest, studies the desperate features lining her face, the trembling form of her body. "What happened?"

"He got away," she rasps, eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "And I didn't care."

Traitorous hope seeps through the cracks of his heart.

"I almost died and all I could think about was you," she breathes, her head shaking as her gaze roams his face, taking him in as if seeing for the first time. Seeing him clearly. "I'm so sorry, Castle. You were right and I'm - I'm sorry."

Her wrists rotate in his loosened grasp, fingers climbing to bridge at the back of his neck. Her toes arch, lifting her body to meet his, allowing her lips to ghost over his.

"I love you." The words sound sacred falling from her mouth onto his. "I'm sorry I didn't treat you like it."

He suffers only a split moment of indecision - he loves her back, he always will, even though she scares the shit out of him.

Castle layers his mouth over hers, swallows the moan she exhales at the bruise of his kiss, the surge of his body using hers to shut the door. Kate cradles his head in her hands as he kisses her, the tenderness of all the nights before, of the last kiss she graced him with, gone in favor of the brutal fall of his mouth upon hers, the needful crush of his bones into hers.

She doesn't seem to mind, every scrape of his teeth, press of his palm, and grip of his fingers being returned with fervor.

His hands tangle in her hair, wet and dripping down his bare forearms, tilting her face upwards. She gasps when his tongue slides past her parted lips, swiping along hers and exploring the cove of her mouth like he's always wanted to. They've kissed like this before, frenzied and frantic in a darkened parking lot under the ruse of saving Ryan and Esposito, but there was still an ounce of restraint alive then. She had a boyfriend and he was desperate to show her how good they could be together, but they were allowed so little time, so much uncertainty.

Not tonight.

Her head drops back against the door as he skates lips and teeth along her jaw, down her neck. Her arms are clinging to him, her hips clashing with his, as if she can't keep him close enough.

He slows, though, when he reaches the bared flesh of her chest, the scarred skin between her breasts. His thumb skims the spot with reverence, his lips dust there next, feeling her shudder beneath him.

She whimpers as he travels his mouth up her skin, teeth nipping at her collarbone, tongue slicking along the rain coated flesh of her exposed shoulder, her throat.

"Rick," she breathes, the fingers of one hand fisting in his hair, the other slipping between them to yank at the buttons of his shirt.

Castle slides his hands down her sides, her hips, and curls them around her thighs. She's ready when he lifts her, using her toes to hop into his arms.

He chuckles as her arms wrap around his neck and she flips her hair to one side, angling her head to kiss him again.

"Eager, Beckett?" he smirks into her mouth, digging his fingers into her ass as she takes his bottom lip between her teeth.

"Yes," she admits without hesitation, letting him go for a split second to shrug the sopping leather jacket from her shoulders.

It hits the floor with a wet slap, but he can't be bothered to care. She smiles into the next kiss she lays upon his mouth, her happiness tasting like champagne bubbles on his tongue.

"You really love cuddling with me, huh?"

She laughs, tightening her thighs around his waist as they start for his bedroom.

"I plan to do more than cuddle with you tonight, Castle." Her thumb traces the bone of his cheek. "Think you can handle it?"

Her eyes are sparkling, gold flashing excitement rippling through her irises.

Castle kicks the door of his office shut with his foot and carries her into the bedroom.

"The real question is, can you? If you're planning to be up with the sun-"

"No," she cuts him off, kissing him quickly before he can lower them to the bed. He bends to lay her across the mattress, the bracket of her thighs drawing down him into the cradle of her hips. "I don't plan to leave early."

"Oh?" he muses, brushing back the damp strands of hair from her cheeks.

Her fingers thread through his hair, trickle down his neck, and trail along his spine, sending a shiver through him. Her eyes wander across his face, as if studying every feature, lips settling into a soft smile.

"I want to stay," she whispers, like it's a secret.

"Then please," he murmurs, resting his forehead to hers for a moment, breathing into the thin space between them. "Stay."

[batbabydamian]

Hey, I started reading Robin son of Batman because of your recommendation (I literally have a print of your post on my phone to not forget lol). Honestly? One of the best things I ever read!!!

Thank you for opening my eyes! Damian has been one of my favorite characters for over a year, but I didn't read/watch much of him because of school, life (and probably an executive dysfunction in the mix).

Maya is incredible. I loved her.

I haven't finished all the issues yet, but do you have any other recommendations?

WAH this makes me so happy, i'm glad you still gave it a shot even with how busy life is!! ;v;

i’d love to give reccs, and i’ll try to go a beginner friendly route! tbh you can pick up whatever here, but since you've read R:SOB i’d immediately follow up with Batman and Robin (2011) #1-8! this first arc is what’s referred to in Maya’s introduction, and it's just. so good.

Main Books

Batman and Robin (2009)

Dick as Batman with Damian as his Robin!

#20-22 Tree of Blood: Dark Knight vs White Knight arc is done by Tomasi and Gleason, the team for the next Batman and Robin series

*Batman and Robin (2011)

Bruce and Damian figuring out their relationship as both Batman & Robin and father & son

imo you can enjoy the ride and read straight through this but i’ll add context to avoid as much confusion as possible since there’s the occasional tie-in or offscreen events, like Damian’s death nbd

Batman Incorporated (2012) #1-10

events leading to Damian's death - affects Batman and Robin (2011) from issue #18

kind of a tough read especially with how Talia's written, but a lot of iconic bits like Batcow, Damian's vegetarian declaration, Alfred the cat, "We Were the Best, Richard."

Robin (2021)

another self-discovery adventure, particularly after Alfred’s death and a fallout with Bruce (and questionable writing choices from his last Teen Titans run)

Batman and Robin (2023)

currently ongoing! after a number of events, Bruce and Damian are back as a duo

Damian Dynamics!

Batman: Streets of Gotham (2009) #7, 10-12

arc where Damian meets one of his first Gotham friends, Colin Wilkes

Batgirl (2009) #5-7, #17

Steph and Damian dynamic! "the bad cop, worse cop" dysfunctional duo

Red Robin (2009) #13-14

early Tim and Damian dynamic that of course includes fighting haha. funny enough, accidentally my first intro to Damian LOL

Teen Titans (2003) #89-92

Dick!Batman has Damian join the Teen Titans. Start of Damian and Rose Wilson dynamic that’s extended in Robin (2021)

Batman: Gates of Gotham (2011)

Damian meets Cass and has a brief team up

Gotham Academy (2015) #7

Damian meets Maps Mizoguchi! they have a few other meetings, but outside of that the series itself is a great read!

Robin War Event (2015)

Robin War (2015) #1, Grayson (2014) #15, Detective Comics (2011) #47, We Are Robin (2015) #7, Robin: Son of Batman (2015) #7, Robin War (2015) #2

Duke and Damian dynamic! not exactly beginner friendly but these are the main issues in order for the event! you can also read the TPB version for everything including Tie-Ins

Nightwing (2016) #16-20, #42, #43

#16-20 Nightwing and Robin arc!

#42 Dick on a mission to save Damian! the one appearance of "Wiggles" the dragon

#43 Dick, Roy, and Damian team-up

New Talent Showcase 2018 "Catwoman: Pedigree"

Selina, Damian, and Alfred the cat

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding - Robin vs. Ra's Al Ghul (2018)

Selina, Damian, and Cheese Viking - Damian's fav game shown in Nightwing: Rebirth (2016)

Monkey Prince (2022) #1-4

Marcus Sun Shugel-Shen's main comic, but Damian features as a fun dynamic here before they're in more serious circumstances in Batman VS Robin (2022)/Lazarus Planet event

Superman (2016) #10 - 11

the beginning of the Super Sons! featuring Maya!

Super Sons (2017)

solitary arcs but there’s a few event tie-in issues later

Adventures of the Super Sons (2018)

literally more Super Sons adventures lol galactic shenanigans yeehaw

Challenge of the Super Sons (2020) 

Super Sons time shenanigans feat. the Justice League

Robin 80th Anniversary (2020)

"Boy Wonders" - brief Damian feature as Tim considers his next step in life

"My Best Friend" - Jon's thoughts on Damian and their dynamic

"Bat and Mouse" - refers to Damian's unfortunate Teen Titans (2016) run at the time of release which follows up with Teen Titans Annual #2 where Damian briefly gives up Robin

Extra Comics!

Superman/Batman (2003) #77

Kara and Damian in a Halloween team-up! also the appearance of "Li'l Matches" lol

DCU Halloween Special '09 "Cavity Search"

Damian out on a solo mission for Halloween night. Immediately after is Tim's Red Robin story "Then and Now: Our Father's Sins" which is more somber in contrast but also a good read!

DCU Halloween Special 2010 "Robin the Vampire Slayer"

a Dick!Batman and Robin story featuring the vampire Andrew Bennett

Cursed Comics Cavalcade (2018) "The Devil You Know"

Halloween themed comic with a sweet short story of Damian alongside Solomon Grundy

DC's Terrors Through Time (2022)

"Trick or Treat" a Super Sons Halloween story

"The Haunting of Wayne Manor" Damian and Deadman story - in the end, Boston kinda refers to Nezha's possession of Damian in Batman VS Robin (2022) which was happening at the time of this release

Batman: Li'l Gotham (2013)

lighthearted series that instantly makes me smile with the silliness and Dustin Nguyen’s art i love this dearly

Secret Origins (2014) #4 "A Boy's Life"

a retelling of Damian's origin story

Detective Comics (2016) #1001-1005

Batman and Robin vs the Arkham Knight (unrelated to the game)

Truth & Justice (2021) #6/#16 - 18 Digital First version

cute story of Damian’s birthday! Juni Ba’s art is so fun!!

DC Festival of Heroes: The Asian Superhero Celebration (2021) “Special Delivery”

short story about Damian! and poisoned pizzas. completely forgot the artist Sami Basri drew Rebirth Damian here before catboy Damian lol Cass’s story “Sounds” is also cute! Marcus makes his first appearance in "The Monkey Prince Hates Superheroes"

DC VS Vampires (2021)

Damian makes appearances throughout this elseworlds book, but the one-shot DC VS Vampires: Hunters (2022) is vampire Damian-centric!

Batman: Black and White (2021) #5

“Father & Son Outing” short story written and drawn by Jorge Jimenez!

Batman: Urban Legends (2021) #20-23

#20 “My Son” Talia and Bruce focus

#20 - 23 “The Murder Club” 4 Parts

Tiny Titans (2008) #33, #39, #45, #47

a few appearances but SO CUTE, LOOK AT HIM

*Batman and Robin (2011) reading guide

i'm mostly trying to avoid the "what did i just walk in on?" kinda feeling when i first started reading comics LOL i'll list the comics where events take place, but you don't necessarily have to read them to go through this book since things are usually explained as quickly as possible in the first page or so

#0 Someday Never Comes

Talia and baby Damian before he grows up to meet Bruce

#1-8 Born to Kill

just an incredibly solid arc for Bruce and Damian!

#9 Court of Owls Tie-In Issue

Damian VS a Court of Owls Talon. While Bruce is occupied with a home invasion of Talons, Alfred makes a call for allies to protect targeted Gotham public figures from Talons. During Batman (2011) #1-11

#10-12 Terminus

Damian challenges the previous Robins sans Steph

Batman Incorporated (2012) is occurring at this time where Talia has placed a bounty on Damian and there's small mentions of that

#13-14 Eclipsed/Devoured

mostly solitary arc! end of it leads into the Death of the Family event

#15-16 Death of the Family Tie-In Issues

Damian and Joker face-off... Alfred's been kidnapped by the Joker, and Damian goes looking for him. During Batman (2011) #13-17

#17 Life is but a Dream - Death of the Family Epilogue

a sort of subconscious check-in through the dreams of Damian, Alfred, and Bruce. Nightwing (2011) #17 features Damian encouraging Dick after Death of the Family events

#18 Undone "Requiem"

Bruce dealing with Damian's death from Batman Incorporated #8

other reactions to Damian's death: Dick in Nightwing (2011) #18, Tim in Teen Titans (2011) #18

#19-23 Denial, Rage, The Bargain, Despair, Acceptance

Bruce through the stages of grief with some batfam appearances in each. also introduces Carrie Kelley into continuity as Damian's acting tutor.

Batman (2011) #19-20 also addresses Bruce's loss

#23.1-23.4

these could be skipped - villain stories, also related to Forever Evil event.

#24-28 The Big Burn

optional Batman and Two-Face/Harvey Dent arc, #23.1 is part of this story!

Damian's resurrection and return

#29-32 The Hunt for Robin

Ras took Talia and Damian's bodies from their graves, and Bruce goes after him.

-> Robin Rises: Omega

continues events from #32. if you don't want to jump to this, basically, Glorious Godfrey and a bunch of parademons from Apokolips are here for a chaos shard which Ra's put in Damian's sarcophagus. at some point, Bruce gets a hold of the shard where he sees a vision that leads him to believe Damian can be resurrected. Godfrey ends up taking the shard, along with Damian's body since it was emitting the same energy.

#33-37 Robin Rises

Bruce hellbent on retrieving Damian from Apokolips and reviving him

-> Robin Rises: Alpha

necessary to read and continues events from #37! Damian's back with a bang lol

#38-40 Superpower

Damian adjusting to having superpowers and being alive again

Annual #1 2013 Batman Impossible

sweet (and funny) one-shot of Damian sending Bruce on a meaningful scavenger hunt around the world while Damian gets to be the cutest Batman for a bit

Annual #2 2014 Batman and Robin: Week One

one-shot takes place during Damian's absence. after Bruce and Alfred find a mystery gift left for Dick, Dick recounts a story he had told Damian from his Robin days.

Annual #3 2015 Moonshot

one-shot Batman and Robin adventure on the moon!

...and of course after Batman and Robin (2011), Damian's story continues in his first solo Robin: Son of Batman (2015)!

[angronsjewelbeetle]

Part ii finally jfc let'S GOOO

EDIT: pt I here

First kisses with the Primarchs ~♡ Pt. 2

Includes: Angron, Corvus, Ferrus, Sanguinius

Sanguinius: Misty rain patters softly against his wings as he shelters you, a sudden sunshower having started as you were out on the balcony together. His hair is getting damp, you notice, eyes absently following a raindrop’s path down his temple. You run your eyes over his face and startle when you lock eyes with him, he chuckles, a crooning little sound. The wing he’s holding over you moves, drawing back towards his body and bringing you with it as Sanguinius sinks down to meet you in the feathery cocoon. Briefly you think this might look a bit silly from an outside perspective, but then he’s pulling you in with a gentle, clawed hand and pressing his lips to yours; they’re as soft as they look and warm and the tip of his nose is cold as it prods your cheek and makes you laugh as you pull away. 

Ferrus: Ferrus, it seems, is in a mood today. You’re not quite sure what caused it but you won’t complain - he’s got you settled in his lap, one of your arms held against his mouth where he peppers kisses to your fingertips, your knuckles, your wrist, and then all the way up to your shoulder, stopping there to bump his forehead against yours like a cat. You chuckle and he smiles a little awkwardly, unused to it, you kiss him, feeling his cheek tense as his smile grows unwittingly, and oh, you pull away, eyes twinkling, “you have dimples?” you ask, his brow furrows and he reaches his hand up briefly, but he lowers it again and instead wraps it around your waist, “I suppose I do,” he hums, leaning back in his seat and closing his eyes, still smiling. You sit up a bit and lean in, pressing a tentative kiss to his lips. He tenses, but then he’s curling around you, smelling like dried vanilla and comfort.

Angron: His chest is hard but comfortable behind you, and you can occasionally feel his muscles twinge. The skies are dark above you and you shiver a bit, it’s cool, but not freezing, and your body is warm where it’s pressed against Angron, he’s not holding you - still doesn't trust himself to, but…you’ve made enough progress to be this close, so you’re getting somewhere at least. You tilt your head back a bit, head bumping against his pec, tracing a scar on his chin where it trails up his cheek with your eyes. You’d like to feel it against your fingertips, but he flinches whenever you touch his face or neck. He looks down, meeting your gaze as the sky begins to darken above you, the first colours of the sunset just starting to streak across it. He lets out a deep sigh and you can feel him relax, just a little, his warm breath brushing across your cheeks. You lean up a bit and kiss the scar, featherlight. His eyes slip shut one at a time like he’s reluctant to close them and his face drops even closer to yours, his neck flinching. He’s waiting for something, you realise as his lips purse a little, you lean in, pressing a reverent kiss to his scarred lips and holding it there until he pulls away and turns his head back to the sky, which is now alight with oranges and pinks and purples. 

Corvus: You grumble as your eyes crack open and slowly adjust to the dark. You’re cold, you realise, the blankets you’d gone to sleep with are nowhere to be found - turfed off during the night by Corvus, who is now looking at you, having woken up when you did. He asks if you’re okay, voice rough with sleep, you glare at him and mumble about the blankets. He chuckles and sits up, dislodging you from your comfortable spot against his side, and reaches over to drag the covers back up, tucking them up under your chin. He leans down and kisses your lips, soft and chaste before settling back down against his pillow and closing his eyes. You stare at him for a moment before watching his eyes snap open in realisation. He opens and closes his mouth a couple times like a fish, then clears his throat, alabaster cheeks flushing vibrantly in the moonlight. You laugh a little disbelievingly and lean in, kissing him. He sighs against your lips and raises a hand to cup your side, soft and tasting like nothing you’ve ever kissed before.

[zukkaoru]

More post-mersault Dazai hcs w/ the ADA and others? 🤞😭

hmm okay well obviously cane user dazai is very near and dear to me. but also..

because of how long kunikida was without his hands, after yosano heals him, he ends up with hand tremors. this, of course, is very hard to deal with considering his ability and his workaholic tendencies. he has to relearn how to do a lot of basic tasks while accounting for his tremors

shockingly (not really), dazai is the one who best knows how to aid kunikida in his recovery process. which is by just.. acting as if it's normal. the others tend to fall into the trap of over-correcting and being too concerned, while dazai doesn't treat him any differently than pre-doa arc

but really, dazai is just sort of treating kunikida how he wants everyone to treat him

overall, dazai gets less of the "too concerned" treatment mostly because he's significantly better at hiding/playing down his disability than kunikida is. which comes partly from just who dazai is and how he acts in general. but also because kunikida clearly uses his hands for everything; whereas dazai spends a lot of time lazing around and not standing up at work anyways, so he isn't putting much strain on his leg unless he's actively working a case

eventually, the ada do realize they can be a bit overbearing towards kunikida at times and back off, because while he might have trouble using his hands now, he is still fully capable of doing most things on his own

back to dazai. despite his issues with his leg, he still very much prefers to take the stairs whenever possible

(he'd die before admitting it, but for a while, he only really feels safe in an elevator if chuuya is nearby) (though, it does help if someone else is in the elevator with him)

he blames it on feeling claustrophobic in confined spaces after spending so much time trapped in a prison cell. ranpo and sigma know that's a lie, but they don't call him out on it

after being coaxed into it by yosano, kunikida, and chuuya, dazai starts going to physical therapy for his leg. yosano does very thorough research on physical therapists in yokohama and comes up with a list of possibilities for him. kunikida goes with him to his first appointment as moral support, which dazai obviously would never admit he wanted but he does very much appreciate it

chuuya, kunikida, and yosano take turns driving him to pt. it started out as a sort of accountability thing, to make sure he was actually going to the appointments, but dazai does actually like having someone there waiting for him to be done. even if he would absolutely never say it aloud.

once, when everyone else is busy, ranpo ends up going with him. they grumpily call it babysitting duty but when junichirou offers to go instead, they say "no no. it's fine. i'm already up out of my seat." dazai assumes they just want to skip out on work, but ranpo really just wanted to assure dazai made it to the appointment and was worried he would try to slip away from the others if they went with

eventually, once it's clear dazai is content to go to pt without strict accountability, the other ada members also start taking turns going with him to keep him company. dazai always says they don't have to and he's fine to go alone, but he doesn't argue hard enough to actually sway them out of it bc he does appreciate having someone go with him

dazai also starts spending more time at chuuya's place again, which he hasn't really done since their mafia days. but something shifted after meursault and chuuya lets him back in with minimal complaint. it's almost offputting, but dazai doesn't think too much about it at first

he just assumes that he'll spend a couple weeks breaking into chuuya's place, annoying them, and then he'll eventually get kicked out and that'll be that

it takes him way too long to realize that chuuya actually feels guilty about the leg injury. because chuuya will not say that and dazai won't straight up ask why chuuya is being nicer than normal because they're still so bad at communication. but they get there eventually and dazai is just. actually genuinely surprised that chuuya would feel guilty, especially when it's really not their fault - they're the reason it wasn't worse. and dazai deserved worse, especially from chuuya of all people

but chuuya, who also has to deal with chronic pain from their ability, sees dazai with his cane and going to pt knowing that it's not ever going to be enough to permanently fix it, and it's just a constant reminder that because they didn't slow the elevator just a little bit more, or they didn't make the splint just a little bit sturdier, or they didn't insist dazai lean on them for support while walking out of meursault, or any other number of tiny things chuuya could have done to help at the time, dazai is also going to be suffering chronic pain for the rest of his life. dazai, who notoriously hates pain, who doesn't want to be alive because he doesn't see the point of it, now also has to deal with persistent pain that will never go away

after they (gasp) actually talk about this a bit, things start to go back to normal, with the two of them bickering and arguing like always. chuuya still never kicks dazai out when he shows up, though

not to be too self-serving but. at some point, dazai orchestrates a situation in which chuuya and kunikida are forced to interact outside the contexts of their jobs. because maybe he kind of likes both of them and he also thinks that if they can both put aside the mafia/ada thing, they would also like each other (and they do <3)

dazai, chuuya, and kunikida all have problems with pushing themselves past their limits. dazai bc he isn't used to caring about/taking care of his body and chuuya & kunikida bc they're both workaholics. but the three of them help remind each other to take breaks when needed (even if they all sound hypocritical doing so)

especially once they move in together, they all help each other out on bad days with pain flare ups/etc.

ranpo is also very good at telling when dazai and kunikida are pushing themselves too hard and they are not afraid to snitch on them to yosano and/or chuuya. depending on which they deem would be more effective at the time

dazai and lucy have a very frenemies-like dynamic which is actually beneficial for them both bc they need someone they can snark at who is absolutely not afraid to dish it right back out at them. it starts with dazai complaining to lucy that she isn't as nice as the other cafe waitresses and lucy's like "not my fault i'm the only one who isn't won over by empty flirting. you're not even that pretty idk" and instead of actually getting offended dazai's just like YES. someone i can ARGUE WITH!

kunikida is annoyed by their dynamic until he realizes that they're both having fun and it's like some weird form of enrichment for them

dazai has trouble getting along with aya at first, because he really has no idea how to interact with young children. kyouka and kenji are old enough and mature enough that he can manage with them. but the children aya's age he's interacted with are.. elise and q. who he didn't have the most. um. nice and normal interactions with.

he's also wary of interacting with aya bc he knows kunikida cares about her and kunikida also wants a partner who is good with kids and if dazai reveals he cannot interact with kids to save his life, he'll ruin any chance he ever had with kunikida

eventually, he's forced into a situation where he has to actually have a one-on-one conversation with aya, and she's very snarky and mean to him at first and he's like "okay cool. good to know i was right about my negative skill level interacting with kids 👍"

so he makes some comment to aya about not being good with kids (sarcastic and rude, but it does hold truth to it) and aya just. stops. and is like hold on i thought you just didn't like me specifically.

anyway once they get past that misunderstanding, dazai finds he doesn't actually mind aya that much. though he's still not a fan of kids in general

for your consideration: mirror pronouns dazai

i do think it would also be a little funny if that ^ gender crisis is happening at the same time as chuuya having their own gender crisis. that #relatable moment when you and your supposed rival who you're sort-of-but-not-really living with and who you're sort-of-but-not-really dating both start questioning your gender at the same time, completely separate of the other and not even realizing that the other is having a similar crisis

okay anyway this is so long so i will end it here

basically i just think. dazai using a mobility aid would be a really fascinating way to visually show that he's learned he needs to depend on others for support (which is one of the big themes in bsd - the good guys win because they work together; fyodor failed because he refuses to trust anyone he can't completely manipulate)

+ dazai, who hates pain and has been suicidal since at least age fourteen, deciding that even with his disability and chronic pain, it's still worth it to keep pushing forward and surviving

you can also see some more of my post-doa ada thoughts in my post-doa fic series all lights turned off can be turned on and post-doa sigma in the 5+1 sigma fic i wrote for fem sigms week

[lisannastraussisanangel]

Hey hope ur well! I was wondering if u had any hcs about Freed being ticklish?

Ticklish Freed is now one of my new fav headcanons...

It is his deepest, darkest secret. That man planned to take it to his grave

He was so good at hiding it. Like even if someone did try to tickle him, he would be able to keep a straight face for long enough for them to give up

That was until Bickslow refused to stop. Freed broke and giggled, which turned Bix into a monster

Freed tried bribing Bickslow into silence but very slowly everyone found out (Bix blames his babies for snitching but Freed beat the shit outta him anyway)

Tickling Freed is a very dangerous activity. Any attempts usually end in being locked in some type of rune (usually trapped in a box)

But there are some members who are willing to take the risk

Mirajane is too scary for Freed to attack so he mostly just runs from her. There's been several instances of Freed sprinting out of the guild terrified and a giggling Mira running after him

Drunk Cana is all over him. Freed's tried using his magic on her, but drunk Cana is a different breed and somehow gets passed all the magic he uses on her

Wendy tries to tickle him and Freed usually lets her and will give a giggle pretty early on to make her happy

Laxus openly says it's stupid that everyone is obsessed with tickling Freed so Freed make the foolish mistake of thinking Laxus would not tickle him

It's very rare that Laxus will but it's always at the most random times. Like talking to a client, Laxus will give him a couple pokes. Or during training. Freed lets him do it

You'd think Bix is the worst with it, but it's Evergreen. She's always sneaking up behind him and catching him off guard. She's one of the few people that can surprise him and because of it Freed rarely has the time to defend himself. Evergreen sneak attacks him and leaves before the man can react

Also Lisanna is an absolute demon. Freed is too scared to even stand next to her now

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

❗️FOOD FOR THOUGHT!!! ❗️

Hypothetically speaking, if curses suddenly ceased to exist in the jujutsu world, would gojo be happy?

It was mentioned/implied that gojo enjoyed being a sorcerer or exorcising curses in the afterlife chapter so I’m soooo lost 😭😭😭

BITING MY FIST…… this is a heartbreaking question anon……… my brain is spinning though so let’s see.

WELL…. first of all, like you said, gojo sincerely enjoys fighting!!! i think he had the most fun he’s Ever had (aside from his time with suguru) during the sukugo fight for…. many reasons but one of them is just that he likes the thrill <333 being able to go all out when you have that much power must feel really nice, right?

BUT BUT BUT… i also think it’s important to remember that gojo was literally raised as a weapon 😭 of course he’d like fighting, it’s his purpose as a human being as far as the world is concerned. i think you Could make an argument that his fondness for fighting is a defense mechanism…. idk if i believe that entirely because i do think he’s a bit of a freak all on his own. but it’s there. i don’t think satoru would enjoy violence much at all if he had been born as a non-sorcerer, though, so there’s that.

buuuut to answer your question!! no, i don’t think he’d be happy. i think he’d be unhappy, actually 😭 at least at first!! mostly because gojo’s lived his abnormal life far too long to be able to adjust to a ”normal” one. if curses stopped existing, his strength would stop having a purpose, so we’d end up with the same dilemma that’s been plaguing gojo for over a decade: is his strength all that defines him? maybe if he lives that way for a long time he’ll eventually find his answer and end up happy, but at least at first, i think the sudden change would be more like a curse for him. it’d take a WHILE for him to adjust, let alone accept it and start to heal.

….. if he had been REborn into a world without curses then i think he’d be happy though :3 and i think gojo’s happy in canon too!! he’s isolated and lonely but he’s also a really positive guy. even if his life is busy, tough, and awful, he’ll keep on smiling, and i don’t think it’s fake. one must imagine gojo satoru happy, or something. you know?

[witchboyjimin]

omg I'm on a public train and i almost yelled over the writing prompt 😍

So my prompt is:

One of them calling the other out of the blue and starting the call with:

"Hi, um- I... This is really short notice and if you're not- that'd be absolutely fine but-". He stops to clear his throat, trying not to give away he's crying. "But if you're free, could you maybe... Could you come get me?"

OOOOOR the absolute classic that I go feral for

"Who did this to you?"

- cabin anon ✨ (sending love your way)

4.8k of hurt/comfort ft. urban werewolves, omega!jm and alpha!jk

tw: domestic violence, physical abuse, attempted sexual coercion

-

jimin's face is throbbing, the vision in his left eye almost entirely obstructed by his swelling skin. the world is blurry and he can taste blood on his tongue.

his lip's split.

he tentatively licks at the cut, wincing when the rest of his face pulses in protest. the ache that had dulled out in his side from the adrenaline pumping through his veins, pushing him to clear nearly twelve blocks in record time, rears its angry head and jimin slumps down against the brick wall he'd slammed into earlier, lungs burning ferociously in protest.

but more than the physical pain he's in, sheer, unadulterated panic grips him, his chest compressing tightly. jimin squeezes his eyes shut, a hand gripping at the fabric of his t-shirt. the world shrinks down to his bare feet, to the smell of blood that is distinctly not his own, to the sound of jimin's shaking breaths.

he can't breathe.

there's not enough air and jimin's fingers dig into brick, his legs giving out under him entirely until he's curling into himself. he needs to become smaller, needs to disappear, only then, only then --

he's going to die.

he can't -- he can't breathe.

every time he inhales, he finds his lungs too small to take in the air and terror like nothing he's ever felt before, has him pinned down by the throat.

just like -- just like hajoon had.

the scream tears out of him unbidden, echoing through the alleyway with a hollowed reverence. for a split second, his wolf takes over, and every single cell in jimin's body fights to keep him alive.

and then jimin sags, all the fight leaving his body at once.

his panicked, shortened breaths even out and the blood in his mouth is joined by the taste of asphalt and the stench of garbage.

he lets his forehead rest against the cool ground, too tired to pull himself up. it takes a moment, but his claws retract, pulling out of the broken asphalt that he's managed to tear through in his fear, his devastation.

his head is swimming with images. hajoon's face darkening in anger, his scent deepening with fury, his hands ready and prepared to tear right through jimin.

somehow he manages to sit up.

there's blood on his hands. it's not his own.

he reaches for the curve of his neck, pressing his palm against the spot hajoon had nearly sunk his teeth into. his hand comes back clean save for some dried blood, jimin's skin healing over quickly.

jimin sits there for a moment, blinking through the pandemonium of emotions swirling through him. at some point, his wolf had taken over, protecting him from an unwanted bond.

he remembers his claws sinking into hajoon's neck, tearing through tendon. blood had poured out, splashing into jimin's mouth and he'd shoved hajoon off of him, scrambling back and bolting out of the apartment. he hadn't looked back once, too focused on getting away. he has no idea if hajoon had given chase, if jimin had even left him in a state where he could.

the sound of a car driving by the alleyway has jimin looking up, noting in passing that there's blood on his t-shirt and on his jeans. he pushes himself to his feet, noting that the bottoms of his jeans have been torn up.

had he undergone a partial shift?

it feels like something outside of himself is guiding jimin to move, like he's watching himself step out of the alley from somewhere up above. his body doesn't feel like his own or maybe it's that jimin doesn't want to be grounded in the sadness he feels beginning to moor him to the spot.

he needs to move.

hajoon could easily track him down by scent. he can't stay here.

he realises he's run all the way over to the pack alpha's neighbourhood. namjoon's house is a few streets over, and jimin would be impressed with how far he's run if the exhaustion wasn't catching up to him so quickly.

his apartment is nearly halfway across town. rent is cheaper in the outer neighbourhoods and hajoon's job didn't pay him much. at least, that's what he always told jimin. the rest of the pack lived closer to namjoon's house as most packs did.

the street is mostly empty.

he keeps to the shadows, making his way to the house as stealthily as he can. the kim pack boasted a history nearly as old as korea's itself. they'd lived on this land since the days seoul was called namgyeong, their lineage tracking all the way back to the days of the three kingdoms.

as such, their house, tucked into one of seoul's most affluent neighbourhoods, is massive. jimin spots it when he turns into the right road, self-conscious of his disastrous appearance as he makes his way down to the front gates.

he probably looks like he's homeless and if a security guard from some other rich family's house spots him, they'll call the police on him or simply try to drag him out themselves.

it's as he stands in front of the gates that he remembers: namjoon's not in town. he's at some conference down in daegu which means that if seokjin, namjoon's mate, has also gone along, there might not be anyone at home to let jimin in.

unlike some members of the pack, jimin doesn't have a key to the house nor does he know the access code to get past the front gates.

he's the newest member of the pack, had only joined a year ago after a few years spent packless. jimin had run away from his own pack, tired of pack hierarchies and being forced to submit to shitty alphas that wanted nothing more than to pin jimin down and mount him.

he'd met namjoon at an art museum, his hackles rising when the alpha had stepped into the same room as him. jimin had beelined for the exit but namjoon had called after him so softly that jimin's wolf had nearly forced him down into submission, desperate to be near someone of his kind after years of isolation.

eventually namjoon's unending patience and kindness coupled with the creeping madness of being packless had convinced jimin that he needed to join a pack again. and by all accounts, jimin loved his new pack. maybe city wolves were different from the rural, more conservative pack he'd grown up around but there were no restrictions placed on how jimin could live, no expectations on what his 'place' among the pack was.

the kim pack just expected all members of the pack to attend a communal meal on saturdays. there were some thirty odd members, enough that namjoon's house would get a little cramped despite how large it was. still, jimin looked forward to time spent with his pack and he ended up spending a lot more than just saturdays with them.

and right now, he wanted nothing more than for his pack alpha and omega to gently scent him and tell him that everything would be okay, that he'd done the right thing to defend himself, that he had the right, at all, to say no to an alpha courting him.

the tears are already trailing down his face before he knows it, tremors beginning to shake through his body. the panic from earlier sweeps in as if it had never left and jimin swallows, his breathing turning shallow once more.

where would he go?

hajoon -- hajoon would find him and he would want revenge, he was so angry --

"jimin?"

the voice startles jimin out of his thoughts, his heart jumping in his chest as jimin twists around to look at a familiar face.

jeon jeongguk.

he's got a bag of something in his hand, his scent sweeping up to jimin, sweet vanilla, warm amber, and the hint of pear.

the surprise on jeongguk's face sharpens quickly into concern, the alpha taking a step closer. his hand reaches out, touch far gentler than jimin would have expected and nudges jimin's chin so that he's looking directly at him.

"what -- " jeongguk starts, the concern hardening into anger. his eyes sweep over jimin so quickly they're a blur, irises glowing red. the sweetness of his scent morphs into something ugly, something rotten.

jeongguk's gaze is sharp, his brows furrowed together. "who did this to you?"

-

jimin can't seem to answer.

actually, he can't stop crying. loud, hysterical sobs spill out of him so quickly that he hiccups through them, breath stuttering through him in an attempt to keep up.

jeongguk, to his credit, doesn't stand idly by. one moment jimin is bawling in front of the alpha, unable to parse together enough words to be of some use, to explain, and the next, jeongguk is scooping him up into his arms and carrying jimin into the pack house.

at some point, they make it into one of the living rooms. jeongguk sets jimin down on the couch, kneeling in front of him and jimin is clinging, he knows, but he can't pull himself away from jeongguk, his arms wrapped tightly around the alpha's neck, face buried into his black tank top.

a hand is rubbing soothing circles against his back, the other cradling the back of jimin's neck, giving it the occasional squeeze. it calms him down and he feels silly, needing the same comfort as a pup to quell down.

he still can't let go of jeongguk, so drained of all energy that the thought of having to sit upright, unsupported, feels equivalent to being told to move a mountain right now.

he wants to sleep.

"jimin." jeongguk says his name so tenderly, with so much concern that it settles over him like a blanket.

the irony isn't lost on him.

jeongguk doesn't like jimin.

he's never liked jimin, cold and aloof and unwilling to trust him. there have been plenty of incidents where jeongguk has made a disparaging comment, glaring at jimin to remind him that he didn't belong here, that he was an outsider.

the rest of the pack had been of mixed opinion when namjoon had first introduced jimin to them. wariness was expected but jeongguk's open hostility had been scary because while namjoon was the pack alpha, jeongguk was the most outwardly terrifying. he had this way of looking at a person that left them completely devoid of confidence, like they could never measure up or prove themselves to him. most people, it seemed, weren't good enough for jeon jeongguk.

and now here jimin was, clinging to the very werewolf he'd done his militant best to avoid on saturdays.

maybe that was it though. jeongguk had no interest in jimin, he didn't like him, so there was nothing he could possibly want from jimin. his kindness was surprising but it felt real and it came with no ulterior motives.

even if jeongguk didn't like him, he could maybe see that jimin needed help and jeongguk is a lot of things, but he's never turned his back on someone in need.

"jimin, hey, look at me," jeongguk murmurs, pushing up so that he can sit down next to jimin. it's strange to be on the receiving end of jeongguk's kindness; it's something he reserves only for his closest packmates, keeping a respectful distance from the others.

moving up onto the couch has allowed jeongguk to tug jimin back, enough that he can take a look at jimin's beaten face. his arm cradles jimin still, eyes flitting over jimin's injuries. "are you..."

his voice trails off, as if realising that whatever he was going to ask already had an answer. jimin can't really tell what's going on in his head, exhaustion whispering sweetly to him: give up, give in.

jeongguk's hand curls over jimin's cheek, his touch barely there as if afraid that he would injure him further. "how could anyone do this."

he says it more to himself than jimin, a steeliness returning to his eyes the longer he stares at jimin's swollen face.

hajoon had slapped him at first. the force of it had left jimin's ears ringing, his balance momentarily slipping. he'd barely straightened back out before the next blow had come. and then the next and then the next.

it wasn't the first time hajoon had slapped him. he always told jimin how sorry he was after, eyes wet with tears, sobbing about what a terrible alpha he was. for some reason, jimin always forgave him.

but today it had been different. jimin had told him no. they'd only been dating for six months and hajoon had asked jimin eagerly if jimin would spend his rut with him.

jimin can still feel the way his gut had clenched horribly at the idea. he'd immediately said no, head shaking, even going so far as to take a step back from hajoon. they'd fought, hajoon unable to understand why jimin couldn't do this for him. didn't jimin love hajoon? didn't he want hajoon to be happy?

a good omega, hajoon had screamed at him, spittle flying from his mouth, is supposed to spread his legs when he's told to.

before long the slaps turned into punches and jimin found himself pushed onto the floor, his vision swimming, with hajoon clambering on top of him, pining him to the ground. jimin had sobbed, hajoon's weight suffocating him, rendering jimin immobile. hajoon had been unrelenting, his words spilling out of him so fast, jimin could hardly keep him. he'd told jimin exactly what he thought of him, how he'd wasted hajoon's time, that jimin belonged to him now and that if he wasn't going to agree to hajoon's request willingly, hajoon would make him agree.

after all, a mated omega couldn't say no to their alpha.

"the swelling is going down," jeongguk tells him, a thumb ghosting over jimin's left brow. jimin's injuries would pretty much be gone by tomorrow -- both a gift and a curse.

hajoon had punched him once, angry about some wager he'd lost with his buddies and jimin had made the mistake of getting him the wrong beer. the bruise on his stomach had looked horrifying when jimin had stared at it in the mirror that night but by the next morning, it was gone.

and jimin had known then that there was no use telling anyone about this. who would believe an omega over an alpha? especially when jimin had no proof.

jeongguk is staring at him intently, taking in the blood on jimin's clothes and his hands. jimin can only tell he's furious because of the lingering acidity of his scent. he's managed to hold most of it back, the usual vanilla wrapping around jimin in an attempt to soothe but the aftertaste is there, jimin can smell it. he's always been good at picking up on the subtleties in others.

jeongguk's brows are furrowed again, his hands carefully going over all of jimin's injuries as if to tally them. he seems to see right through jimin, pausing at jimin's ribs, his hand splaying over the throbbing in his side.

"do you want me to call chungha? or taehyung?" he asks, watching jimin carefully.

jimin shakes his head. of course he'd like it if one of his friends were here but it was the middle of the night and jimin had already ruined jeongguk's night. he wasn't going to ruin anyone else's, too. "'s okay."

"you're finally talking."

jimin shrugs a shoulder.

"tell me what hurts the most," jeongguk instructs, slowly guiding jimin so he can lean against the back of the couch.

jimin almost answers with my heart.

"i think he broke my rib," jimin mumbles, touching the same spot jeongguk had paused at mere seconds ago. "it hurts more and more."

"so it was hajoon?" jeongguk seems to have pieced it all together himself, looking at jimin only for confirmation.

jimin nods, shame flooding through him. he was so pathetic.

jeongguk lets out a breath through his teeth, his eyes flashing red and it takes him a moment to reign himself in. he nods, just once, staring at jimin.

it's too much and jimin finds his eyes slipping shut. he can't meet jeongguk's gaze, doesn't think he could bear to see contempt there, not now.

"i'm sorry," he says, mouth dry. his head is throbbing, the pain like a wave ebbing out of him, constant and pulsing.

"for what?" jeongguk's voice has gotten quieter, a tinge of something jimin can't quite place creeping in. "what could you possibly be sorry for?"

jimin opens his mouth, winces when his jaw aches and then closes it, his eyes barely opening to see the downward tilt of jeongguk's mouth. he shrugs, unable to put into words the misery he's feeling. he's sorry for existing, for burdening jeongguk like this.

"this isn't -- what hajoon has done, that's not how you treat your omega," jeongguk says with absolutely no room for argument. "this isn't your fault. it could never be."

jimin's eyes burn, his throat closing up and he nods, gaze falling down onto his hands. jeongguk's scent seems to swarm around him, eager to comfort and console, and jimin fights back the urge to cry. he's already cried so much.

jeongguk holds still, uncertainty written in the way his frown deepens, how his shoulders seem to have tensed up. he reaches out, gently taking jimin's hand in his own. "it...it'll help you feel better if i scent you. may i?"

jimin's teeth clench, breath shuddering out of him. did he want to be scented?

his mother had always scented jimin when he was upset, her nose carefully rubbing over his scent glands. she would give him a kiss on each cheek when she was finished and all of jimin's anxiety would have melted away, forgotten.

but his mother was his family and jeongguk was...

jeongguk was pack. is pack.

jimin nods, ignoring the warning sign in his head screaming at him to never let another alpha anywhere near him.

jeongguk hovers for another second before nodding and he leans in, pausing just outside of jimin's personal space. he can probably feel the apprehension coming off of jimin in waves, his mind wishing he'd run away and his wolf begging for proximity, for his packmate's comfort.

jimin flinches when jeongguk finally closes the gap between them, his touch feather light. he pauses, giving jimin the opportunity to pull away but jimin just holds his breath.

jeongguk's nose trails along jimin's skin slowly, moving back and forth over the same expanse of skin. it's a deliberate choice, jimin can tell, the languid movement like he's afraid that jimin will spook if he moves too fast.

slowly, jimin relaxes. vanilla and amber wrap around him until jimin thinks he can taste them on his tongue. his mind starts to blank, the tension in his body beginning to seep out slowly. jeongguk's touch never waivers beyond light, delicate. namjoon always scented jimin much more deliberately, quick and easy, a reminder that jimin was his pack.

jeongguk scents jimin like he's something precious, the tip of his nose skimming over jimin's scent gland, never applying pressure. he's careful, jimin's hand still in his own and jimin can feel how sweaty both their palms are, finds it sticky but he's unwilling to let go.

at some point, jeongguk's other hand finds itself cradling the base of jimin's head, his large palm holding jimin in place. his fingers dig into jimin's neck, squeezing, grounding.

with every passing second, jimin unwinds. jeongguk's nose ghosts over his neck from one side to the other, gently swiping over jimin's scent glands. his touch tickles, feels barely there, and yet it settles jimin down better than anyone else's touch ever has.

jimin lets out a sigh, his eyes closed and the pain in his body quells down to something manageable. tomorrow, he wouldn't even feel the sharp jab in his abdomen or the pulsing in his face. tomorrow, he wouldn't have reminders of hajoon's violence all over him.

jeongguk pulls back, just as slow. jimin has a hard time opening his eyes, stares up at jeongguk through blurry vision. he's so close. jimin can see the little mole under his mouth.

"i'm going to call namjoon and tell him okay," jeongguk says, his hands falling away from jimin. he pulls away entirely, taking his sweet scent with him and the further away he gets, the worse jimin feels.

he feels like crying anew. this time from frustration. why should he need so much from another alpha? why couldn't he just comfort himself?

"but first, let's get you cleaned up." jeongguk shifts to stand up and jimin finds himself reaching out, his fingers scrabbling for some part of jeongguk to hold onto.

jeongguk pauses, looking down at the hand jimin's buried into the fabric of his cargo pants. "i'm right here, jimin. you're okay."

he must realise what jimin needs because he scoops jimin up again, carrying him in a bridal carry all the way upstairs. jimin slips in and out of consciousness, the panic that had become second nature finally giving him a moment's peace.

jeongguk brings him upstairs into a bedroom that smells distinctly like his scent. jimin's mind is floating, his wolf curling up inside of him, content to finally rest. it's hard for him to take anything in, to notice anything beyond the dark colour of the walls. but jeongguk's scent is so nice. jimin wishes he could float in a pool of it.

his wish is answered in another form.

jeongguk lays jimin down on his bed -- it must be his bed because the sheets are soaked through with his scent. embarrassingly, he buries his face into jeongguk's pillow, momentarily forgetting that the owner of the scent is right here in the room with him.

"i'm going to need to undress you jimin," jeongguk says, kneeling down by the bedside so he's not hovering over jimin. "is that okay?"

jimin's so tired but he shakes his head. "i can...i can do it."

jeongguk doesn't look convinced, his mouth pursing but he nods. "i'll get you something to wear."

jimin's not sure how he manages to sit up but he does, his arms like lead when he moves to take his t-shirt off. a sharp pain cuts into him, his rib most definitely broken, and jimin gasps, his breath coming out in short pants.

the t-shirt smells like hajoon and blood and the panic is quick to crawl back in, eager to sink its claws into jimin's heart. he tugs harder to get the shirt off, struggling to manage the movement.

before he hurts himself further, jeongguk is back at his side and patiently assisting him to remove the t-shirt. jimin blink when his head finally pops out, sucking in a deep breath.

jeongguk has placed some clothes down next to jimin and more importantly has a wet cloth in his hand. he doesn't seem annoyed that jimin had refused his help and then needed it.

instead, he brings the wet cloth up to jimin's face and wipes away dried blood, always catching jimin's eyes as he moves lower to make sure he's okay.

the cloth, once a bright shade of yellow, slowly turns brown. jimin is a little horrified at how quickly it discolours. just how much blood was on him?

"hajoon can't come here, right?" jimin asks, staring at the cloth and remembering how the blood had rained down on him, how jimin had swallowed some of it.

"he'd be pretty fucking stupid to come here," jeongguk answers, having moved to jimin's hands. he wipes across the backs of jimin's hands first before cleaning his palms and then the pads of jimin's fingers.

a shower would have been better but jimin doesn't think he could stand in one on his own right now and he might die of mortification if jeongguk had to help him.

"i'd fucking kill him," jeongguk adds, purposefully meeting jimin's eyes. his eyes are red again, his incisors elongated and jimin swallows, blinks, before jeongguk is back to his human self.

"what if...what if i did?" jimin says it so quietly he can barely even hear the words leave his own mouth. he keeps wondering why hajoon didn't give chase. the hajoon jimin knows would never have just let him get away.

"namjoon-hyung is heading back right now. i'll tell him to go by the apartment first, okay?" jeongguk doesn't even react, just continues to clean jimin up. when he's satisfied with his handiwork, he stands up and turns his gaze down to the clothes next to jimin. "go ahead and get changed."

the answer surprises jimin. shouldn't jeongguk be mad? if jimin...if jimin killed an alpha...

"pretty impressive if you did kill him," jeongguk adds, his mouth quirking up into a little smirk. "i didn't think you had that in you."

"i don't -- i, he was trying to bite me so i -- "

again, jeongguk's scent plummets, the sweetness putrefying instantly. his anger is palpable and jimin jerks back, whining instinctively to appease him.

"sorry," jeongguk grits out, eyes closing. jimin's amazed by how quickly he puts himself back together. gone are the red eyes, the sharpened teeth.

why was he so angry?

"i didn't mean to scare you." he steps away from jimin, the wet, ruined cloth still in his hand. there's a bitterness to his scent that still clings to him and he looks unhappy. "i'm just going to be outside the door, okay? take your time and if you need help, ask."

jimin nods meekly, admonished.

he can't quite move past how kind jeongguk has been. this is a side of him jimin has only caught glimpses of, a side reserved for the few pack members he held in the highest regard.

eventually, jimin manages to get out of his jeans, a much easier task. the clothes jeongguk has left for him are his own. his scent lingers on the fabric and jimin feels the heat rise to his cheeks, oddly pleased that the alpha was generous enough to lend them to jimin.

jeongguk's sweatpants are a little too long on jimin and he doesn't bother trying to put the t-shirt jeongguk's given him on. instead, he turns to the door and clears his throat. "jeongguk?"

"i'm here," jeongguk replies instantly.

"um, can you -- i, i need your help." embarrassment flushes through him but it'll be worse if he gets stuck trying to get the shirt on.

"coming," jeongguk answers, opening the door. jimin spots him slipping his phone into his pocket and worries his bottom lip between his teeth. the split from earlier already hurts a little less.

jeongguk had texted namjoon then because he hadn't heard him talking to anyone. eventually, jimin would have to explain all of this to namjoon and the thought makes his belly twist unhappily.

"should have helped you with this earlier," jeongguk mutters, more to himself than jimin. it slips past jimin's head a lot easier, a size or two too big because it drapes across jimin's smaller frame, leaving plenty on room to move around in.

"i don't know if you want any ointment for your wounds," jeongguk says, slipping jimin's right arm into the sleeve. it falls past jimin's elbow. "but i never really find it that helpful. i can get you some painkillers though, if you want."

"okay," jimin agrees, sitting back down on the bed. he feels anxious every time jeongguk leaves and then he feels stupid for being so needy.

jeongguk brings back the painkillers and a glass of water that jimin chugs down entirely. he hadn't realised he was so thirsty.

"we'll...we'll talk about what happened tomorrow. namjoon-hyung says he'll be here by seven, latest."

"hyung didn't -- "

"he's your pack alpha, so yes, he does." jeongguk's tone is stern, his eyes pinning jimin to the spot.

jimin nods, scolded, and wonders how it is that jeongguk can be so sure of things so easily. it's a three hour drive from daegu and namjoon is probably exhausted from a day spent in meetings with other pack alphas. the alarm clock on jeongguk's bedside table tells jimin it's almost two am.

"i'll stay here," jeongguk says, nudging jimin to lie down onto the bed. "you need to sleep."

he goes so far as to tuck jimin in, sitting down on the edge of the bed, next to jimin.

he wants to ask jeongguk, aren't you tired, too? but jimin's eyes are so heavy and jeongguk's scent is sweet and calming, washing over jimin like the first drizzles of spring rain.

he falls asleep quickly, a hand finding it's way to the hem of jeongguk's tank top, fingers curling in.

[blondiest]

would you do takada/misa

the first time misa amane kisses another woman, it's only to mess up her lipstick.

she can't hit kiyomi-- her bodyguard has already thrown misa to the ground once, and she still has the bruises on her kneecaps to show for it-- but she's sick of looking at her perfectly-composed, perfectly-smug little face, and her perfectly-painted red lips are the easiest thing to ruin. as she stands and leans over the table, she can see halle lidner shift in place, ready to step in. misa's eyes don't leave kiyomi's.

the dark-haired woman watches her, openly intrigued. she does not stop misa from grabbing her by the chin, though she tenses when it happens. kiyomi does not stop misa from pressing their lips together, either, but she doesn't kiss back until misa is about to pull away.

it's a surprise to misa that she kisses back at all. she doesn't even immediately register that kiyomi is cupping her cheek-- when she feels the palm on her face, misa thinks she's going to be slapped. instead, kiyomi presses closer, the waxy flavor of her lipstick smearing onto misa's tongue as their mouths part.

this is-- wrong. and it's gross! she doesn't like women that way, and if she did, she'd do better than kiyomi.

she breaks away. a string of spit stretches and snaps between them, startlingly lewd. kiyomi smiles.

"not what you expected?" the younger woman asks, somehow prim even as her mouth is smeared with red. "funny. you seemed so confident."

the second time misa amane kisses another woman, it's to shut her up.

[angeart]

How dare Link correctly predict my reaction to teases, how dare (<3) YES I wanna know what prompted the upset, what well meaning thing went so wrong D: And that bit about still hoping to be loved breaks my heart for them

-🎀

the bit about still hoping to be loved broke my heart too, and that's why i needed to include it <3

so, about hermits wanting to help them. one smaller example is them taking a look at scar's tattered wings and suggesting that maybe they could help fix them. which is good!

but this comes after scar having his wings like this for about a year, and it took a long time for him to learn to accept them as they are. he's no longer ashamed of them, seeing them simply as a part of himself now. (the same way his scars have always been)

and, sure, he will still take a chance at having them healed, but it still rubs him wrong, in a way. even though it's a kind, well-meaning offer. because it proposes that he needs to be fixed.

but a whole big issue stems from something else.

we know scar and grian have changed.

grian, in particular, flinches a lot and seems scared. scar, on the other hand, often shields grian, and calls on his vex traits to intimidate the danger away, showing he's not afraid to fight. (he is afraid. he's constantly afraid.) and they're both awfully codependent, clinging to each other and isolating from everyone else.

[1,7k rambles and ~3,2k rp snippets below the cut]

one of the things they leaned into in that other world was their hybrid traits. and they show in the way they interact with each other, you know? the way they express trust and love and know what the other one needs.

well, scar is a vex.

we know there's a mating bite, but that's not everything. him and grian indulge in a lot of biting and blood related stuff. all consensual! grian is a little freak so he likes it!

it's something the two of them do, privately and intimately. it's safe, it's fun, it's theirs. them being insanely in love and ready to give all of themselves over. lose all of control on both sides, at least for a moment, in a world that hardly allows such a thing.

but here's the issue: the others don't know anything about any of it. they don't know what scar and grian have been through. they don't know anything about vex instincts or mating rituals. they don't understand anything about this new thing.

so when they see grian timid, bruised and bitten? and they know that scar seems more violent now, sharp-fanged and clawed?

let's just say they get concerned. and stage a bit of an intervention.

they just want to make sure that grian is okay! it... should be a good thing. except they've separated them and are now cornering grian, asking all these questions and voicing all these assumptions. and it's a bit awful, actually.

grian is pressed into having to explain that yeah, actually, he wanted all of that. that it's love.

but him naming the so obvious damage love just rings more alarm bells. and maybe someone asks him if it's a form of self harm, to allow that to happen to him? like, if grian seeks it out, is it self destructive? is that why he craves it?

and sort of, him and scar spiral about this in different ways.

grian struggles with untangling his way out of it, because what if they're right? what if he subconsciously sought harm? but he liked it? is it wrong to enjoy it? he knows that he had his moments when he was actively trying to bring himself damage. mostly aimed at his wings—plucking out his feathers and such. but is this just another thing like that? a substitute damage of sorts? was he just oblivious this whole time?

grian never had a previous relationship experience, so he really can't tell what is love. where does it end and Something Bad begins? he associates the bites with love, but is that bad? is he wrong? would it feel different if someone else showed him that love is something else? did he just manipulate himself into feeling like this and now he's in too deep?

at least he knows scar would never hurt him if grian says no. if grian doesn't want it. but... if grian wants it... is it self destructive? is that what it means? or maybe he was just chasing the aftermath? the soft care (that scar'd offer regardless)?

his mind is a mess and he can't figure out what his real feelings in this all are. he doesn't know how to figure it out. he gets really confused and worried and scared. (he's terrified that they're right, not necessarily for himself, but because of what that'd do to scar.) (he's scared that scar will blame himself over this. that no matter the outcome, this is inevitably going to mess something up between the two of them.)

in the meanwhile, scar feels like a monster. like maybe he was doing something wrong this whole time. was he enabling something horrible? was he genuinely hurting grian this whole time, unaware?

because he's a vex, and it makes sense to want this on his end, but grian is an avian, and... maybe scar should've questioned it more? shouldn't have been so eager to indulge? did he do something irreparably cruel without meaning to?

through this all, he reassures grian it's okay to take a break from it, or even to completely stop. it's fine! it's always been fine! but despite that, their feelings continue to spiral, caught in a maze they can't escape.

it used to be so simple. back in the vex commune. scar never had to doubt himself and the way they express their love. not when it came to this.

and now suddenly it seems so different. so vile and wrong and horrible. people are genuinely concerned and scar and grian wonder, separately, if maybe they're right to be?

... eventually they both hurtle towards a breaking point. and scar decides he needs to talk to someone about it. and grian decides he needs to be alone for a moment, becoming overwhelmed, needing some space to think.

i really want to tell you about what happens in the talk scar has with the others, but i can't. not quite yet.

anyway, this is where the breakdowns come in. (yes. multiple.)

first is scar's during the conversation he has. he gets to hear a lot of good, wise, reassuring things, but ultimately, he still needs to hear from grian. he's been trying so hard not to influence grian's conclusion to all of this, but. he needs to know grian's thoughts, once grian is ready.

grian is not ready. he's been growing so emotionally worn out from all of this, so volatile and fragile. it's all a bit Too Much.

scar messages him, checking up on him.

are you okay?

and

i'm here waiting for you whenever you come back

and

but i'll come find you if you want me to

and

i love you

... but here's the thing, right? neither scar nor grian are used to comms anymore. so grian doesn't read any of that.

they regress back to what they know.

scar howls.

grian chirps.

and only then does scar's comm ping.

come.

zero hesitation, scar unfolds his wings and jumps off the balcony, rushing towards where that chirp came from. he's being called. he's being wanted.

he'd go anywhere for grian.

he finds grian perched atop a tree. struggles to climb up, but never falters. because grian's now starting to cry, and scar needs to be there.

tucked safely into scar's gentle, loving arms, grian breaks down.

--

with a hitched sob, grian falls forwards into scar's arms, burrowing easily into the warmth and familiarity and security.

he wants to say he's sorry. he's sorry this is so hard for him. he's sorry he can't untangle this; sorry he can no longer tell which are his feelings and which are just things people have suggested he might feel. he's sorry he's making this so difficult. he's sorry he's worrying everyone.

but words evade him as scar's arms provide just enough safety for his guards to crumble lower, making him just sob instead.

--

and believe it or not, somewhere in the midst of this (hey do have a proper talk, if a bit tear-drenched) is scar's second breakdown. (grian's time to hold him!!!) that's where the rp snippet in the previous ask is from. and you'll get more of that in a second.

first i just need to tease the aftermath, because i'm a menace.

after crying and comforting their hearts out, they fly(!!!) back. there's immense relief to wind in grian's feathers, and a dangerous edge of the feeling of freedom it brings, wanting to soothe all the cracks on his soul... but the truth is, his soul is still cracked. and he's still depleted. he knows he's still hovering over something so incomprehensibly fragile. that the smallest prod will set him off and break him again.

they arrive at their nest—scar first, to warn their company not to ask questions, grian second.

it doesn't stop it from happening. grian was right: the smallest thing can set him off.

so he has another breakdown, possibly a bigger one, drawing on far deeper hurt that screams and tears at his heart. and plunges all three other people in the room into breakdowns of their own <3333

(yes that's the part we can't talk about. yet.)

aNYWAY!!! how about some rp bits.

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

SCAR

Despite Grian’s crying being entirely contagious— or perhaps Scar is just simply too empathetic and emotional himself— Scar’s had practice with consoling his sweet bird. He knows what he ought to do here. 

He tightens his hold until it’s snug and secure, then pressed a few little kisses to whatever part of Grian’s head he can reach.

And then he talks.

“I knew you’d be up in a tree somewhere.” His voice wobbles a bit, but it’s alright. “I wanted to give you some time… I missed you though. Like immediately.”

He chuckles softly, knowing their bond borders on codependent, even if it’s something they’ve worked on since they’ve gotten home. Still, it’s okay to poke fun at it, he thinks. It’s okay to admit the truth.

--

GRIAN

grian's sobs quiet down a little as scar talks, energy redirected to hook into the familiar rumble of his slightly quivery voice, sniffling as he listens to what scar has to say. 

it's sometimes hard to decipher the meaning of sentences when he gets like this, but scar doesn't seem to expect an answer; he's not asking him anything, and grian's grateful for being given time, a grace period where he can just cling and cry and calm down while scar holds him. 

he laugh-sobs at the note that it was obvious he'd be in a tree. he's given scar a lot of hard time in the past until he figured out that lesson, but now he always knows unfailingly where to search when grian's heart needs him after cowardly isolation.

he comes every time. he comes and he finds him and he holds him. 

grian sniffles, despondent, burrowing tighter in. he chirps a little to encourage scar to go on, to keep talking; the sound of it is shaky, about to fall apart to pieces, but he thinks it still counts. it's still something. a participation, not leaving scar stranded and alone in this.

--

OK LOOK WE HAVE TO SKIP AHEAD HERE BECAUSE [REDACTED] REASONS

--

GRIAN

grian hums again, fond and soft, slumped against scar with utmost trust. and then he finally says it. "'m sorry."

--

SCAR

"Hey, none of that, mister," Scar says, shaking his head into Grian's hair in more of a no than a nuzzle now. "It was a lot, it's okay. You needed a moment."

He places another kiss.

"And you knew I'd be here in a heartbeat when you were ready, right?" Scar grins sheepishly.

--

GRIAN

grian's hands trace idle patterns on scar's back as he gets comforted by words and another kiss. he closes his eyes, taking it in, before replying with a soft little "yeah."

-- 

SCAR

Scar purrs at the affection, openly so. "Doin' a little better now?"

--

GRIAN

grian nods, still right against scar, clingily pressed into him. "yeah, i... yeah."

--

SCAR

Scar doesn't budge, not interested in releasing his darling bird just yet. "...what's on your mind?" he prompts softly, hoping to get a glimpse at Grian's inner turmoil.

--

GRIAN

with eyes still closed, grian lets the pause linger just a moment, before replying with a quiet but honest, "right now? how nice this feels."

--

SCAR

Scar chuckles again, a little anxiety getting settled by that fact, though certainly not all. "Oh, well that's good, yes. I agree with that sentiment entirely."

--

GRIAN

"good," grian purrs, squeezing at scar. "'coz i don't wanna lose it."

--

SCAR

Scar's ears twitch, something awfully depressing in those few words. "Hey, no, never," he assures. "This is never going away, okay?" 

Since he seriously doubts cuddling is about to give anyone the wrong ideas.

--

GRIAN

grian has to swallow several times for his feelings to not go off the rails again. he takes a shaky breath, still squeezing at scar, as if he was afraid he might disappear. "... okay."

--

SCAR

"And neither am I!" Scar tacks on, even if it should go without saying. Even if it may be a little dramatic. But he thinks maybe Grian needs to hear that fact stated with absolute certainty. "I love you too dang much."

--

GRIAN

that gets grian to loosen his grip a little, enough to shuffle and look up. hair messy and eyes glistening and red rimmed, he looks up at scar with so much aching adoration, it feels like he might drown. 

"i think it's okay if— if we love each other in our own way," he says sheepishly. he ducks down, laying his head on scar's shoulder, feeling shy as his hands go back to tracing patterns on scar's lower back. "even if the others don't understand or agree." there's a precipice of a pause, and then the most timid little "... right?"

--

SCAR

Scar's heart stutters, and his ears flick up again with carefully optimistic anticipation at Grian's words. His eyes threaten to flood over again, but the tears feel different, more cathartic, less miserable. 

He tucks his head over Grian's again, brushing his cheek over his locks affectionately, daring to release a few hopeful tears as Grian says what he desperately hoped he might. 

"I..." he starts, still trying not to influence this decision if he can help it, but... "I think so. ...I mean it's—" He thinks of [REDACTED], and chuckles wetly, morphing them in his own Scar-silly way. "It's not really anyone else's business what we do in the bedroom, is it?"

--

GRIAN

grian's hands still against scar's back, simply holding him for a moment as he soaks up scar's nuzzles. there's wetness to them, something that makes grian's heart ache as he worries about all the possible meanings, but hopes against all hope that it's just scar getting positively emotional—a relief of sorts above all else. 

a small strained chuckle makes it past his lips, and he muffles it into a kiss that he presses into scar's shoulder. "right. exactly."

--

SCAR

Scar weakly smiles, giving Grian a squeeze. "...but seriously, I— you know it's okay if we stop, right? If you ever change your mind— and I mean your mind, nobody else's— then it's fine! But... I... yeah." Another squeeze. "I just want to be sure you know that."

--

GRIAN

there's a barely stifled sigh, but no hint of tension pools across grian's back. his hold remains still and gentle, his head idly leaning on scar's shoulder. "i know," he murmurs.

--

SCAR

"Good," Scar states, ducking lower so his forehead presses into Grian for a moment before releasing just enough so he could escape the big bear hug if he wanted. “... you know, [REDACTED]”

--

WE ARE ACTUALLY TAKING ANOTHER LEAP, ANOTHER SKIP, ANOTHER SCRIBBLED OUT SECTION. bear with us <33

--

SCAR

[REDACTED VERY REDACTED] “I mean, I had to learn all this vex stuff, too. It’s not… I mean it’s certainly not the most family-friendly sort of culture but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong, does it?”

--

GRIAN

grian blinks at that, lifting his head in attention. this really surprises him, for some reason. that [WOO REDACTED AGAIN WOW] 

"oh." he takes a moment, leaning slightly back, inviting scar's touch a little bit further. "yeah... yeah, i think he's—" he bounces the words around in his head again, then settles on: "it's a learning curve every way, isn't it? whenever there's new instincts and..." he skirts around the words mating rituals, feeling a faint warmth rise up to his cheeks. he looks away briefly, teething at his bottom lip as he thinks of all the worries he himself used to have, all the mistakes kane made, all the effort and talking and correcting it took for things to finally have it all sink in the proper way. 

he clears his throat, shyly looking back at scar, but then his gaze anchors and softens. his hand travels up from scar's chin, brushing through his hair, tucking a strand behind his ears. "it's not wrong."

--

SCAR

“It’s not?” Scar asks meekly, even though he was the one to propose so first. To have Grian confirm it is so much more important. Because even if they can agree it’s not wrong for Scar to have sought out these things, ultimately he wants it to be right for Grian as well.

Scar chews at his lip nervously, but still tilts toward the offered affection, absolutely weak to it.

--

GRIAN

"mmm." grian lets his fingers brush through scar's hair again, gentle with him at every step. "it's not wrong," he repeats softly.

--

SCAR

Scar opens his eyes, both of them glistening with potential tears, but he offers up a weak, wobbly smile, appreciating every graze of Grian’s fingers. “…is it— it’s not wrong for you either?”

--

GRIAN

grian takes in scar's expression and he leans in for a short kiss. "it's not wrong for me," he murmurs, right over scar's lips. 

and maybe he still feels confused, and maybe he still has some exploring and figuring out to do, just to really settle things in his heart, but he knows scar will be there with him every step of the way. just like he knows that [REDACTED] is right—scar is good for him. 

and he wants all of him.

--

SCAR

The tears fall alongside a pitiful little chuckle, but Scar leans right back in for another kiss, not caring at all for the wetness that streaks down his cheeks. 

They can match now. It’s fine.

“I… I’m—?” Scar falters, and he laughs again, ducking his head down in slight embarrassment. He can’t even bring himself to say it. To even imply that he was worried that he was wrong for Grian. “…okay.”

--

GRIAN

the sight of tears breaks grian's heart. still keeping one arm around scar, hoping it'd make him feel close and secure, he lowers his other hand from scar's hair to his cheek, gently collecting the wetness even as scar leans in for a kiss. (one that grian gladly gives.) 

even though scar doesn't finish his question, grian can connect the dots. he remembers the time when he himself thought he's not good for scar, and he knows how awful and heavy that self doubt was.

with utmost tenderness, he kisses scar's cheek, right in the path of wetness, while his fingers gently brush the tears on the other side. "scar." it's quiet, reverent. irredeemably loving.

he pulls away, wanting scar to look at him as he says this. his wings twitch, brushing over scar's, curling inwards towards him. pressing against scar's sides under scar's wings as grian lets go of his back in favour of cupping his face, thumbs brushing over cheeks.

"scar, you're good for me."

he strings up the words, slow and deliberate and certain.

--

SCAR

It’s Scar’s turn to break again, clearly, as his eyes water over and big, wet tears fall down his cheeks and collect over Grian’s hands. He doesn’t even have words to respond with, just wide, grateful eyes and wobbly lips that can’t decide between a cry or a smile. 

His hands also find their way over Grian’s, though one escapes to run his own thumb over Grian’s cheek in turn, still feeling the dampness there. It’s oddly comforting.

“…sometimes I worry the hermits don’t think that,” he admits, gaze flicking away as he tries to keep a strong facade. (Hard to do while he’s actively crying, but it could certainly be worse.)

--

GRIAN

"oh, scar." grian sighs, heartbroken, brows pulling into a pained frown upon hearing that admission. he can hardly bear this, knowing scar's been made to feel like this.

he leans in to press a kiss to his forehead, wings slinking further along, wrapping around scar right underneath his vex wings. he wants to cocoon them into warmth and safety, away from these treacherous feelings.

the hermits managed to somehow break both of them down, with nothing more than good intentions.

grian hates the uncertain, askew feeling that pushes bitter bile up his throat, telling him maybe they're not quite right for this place anymore. that they forgot how to belong, but nobody has caught up yet and still expects them to be their selves that they can no longer reach.

“you know [REDACTED I AM SO SORRY]” he attempts a smile, though it's hard. he tugs at scar, wanting to pull him in for a hug, tuck him underneath his own chin, all safe and protected, but he leaves it up to scar whether he wants that or needs more breathing room right now. 

"maybe they need time. i... i've been hiding away a lot and. honestly i don't think they can tell what's good for me anymore. not right now." it's hard to admit. "even if they mean well." but well-meaning that hurts both him and scar is just meddlesome. 

maybe they needed this though, in a way. it would be better if it came from a different place, subtler, gentler, but still. maybe they needed to work through exactly these feelings.

"anyone who says you're not good for me will get smacked," he threatens, remembering scar's (and kane's) offers to bite people who look at grian wrong, in a way returning the favour. "'coz they're wrong and they have no business spewing nonsense."

--

SCAR

Scar gladly takes up the offer to be smothered in affection, and he boldly chooses to corporealize his wings fully and gently tug them around the base of Grian's, knowing well that wing-on-wing contact is almost always acceptable. And right now that sort of thing brings immense comfort to him, too. It's something they both share, after all. A pair of wings and a pair of patched up hearts.

"I know they mean well..." Scar whines into Grian's chest this time, and though there's no cozy shawl to bury himself in, it's just as comforting. "but they don't know everything, and... and I know that's mostly on us, but god it's just... it's so much sometimes, Grian." 

It's not exactly pleasant to recall those memories. To try to explain just how horrific it was to their old friends. To look them in the eyes and admit that they're different now because they had to be. (And how they still hope to be loved despite it all.)

--

GRIAN

grian wraps scar up in his arms, holding him close. one hand in scar's hair, the other sliding down between his shoulderblades, rubbing at that point between his wings, unaware he's copying exactly what [REDACTED] did earlier.

the pressure of scar's wings over his own helps him settle a little, gives him comfort and courage through this glass-shards of a conversation.

"they don't know everything," he echoes quietly, kissing the top of scar's head before he leans his cheek on it, cradling him. "i just wish..." he closes his eyes and tugs at scar, holds him a little bit tighter. he doesn't really know how to finish that sentence; all the words feel like they're crashing and splintering over sharp cliffs.

all that's left in the rubble is a weary sense of defeat. "it is so much," he agrees. "it's so tiring to... they expect us to be..." he doesn't finish any of his sentences, but he wonders if scar understands anyway.

--

SCAR

Scar understands perfectly. He nods softly as he listens, lulled in by those soft touches, tears drying as he lets Grian’s presence fully engulf him.

“…they expect us to be the same,” Scar finishes for him, certain that Grian’s had the same trouble he has, though perhaps to a different degree. “And… maybe we won’t ever be. But… I don’t think all the ways we changed are bad. Like— sure, we’re still messed up and jumpy and… and I mean, frankly traumatized, but…” There’s an effort to poke his head up, but Scar finds himself too reluctant to leave the comfort of Grian’s arms just yet. “We’re also in love. And… we have a new appreciation for life. And each other.” A half-sniffle, half-chuckle gets stuffed into Grian’s chest. “…is that too sappy?”

--

GRIAN

grian chuckles mirthlessly at the list of things they suck at, their reactions and trauma stitched close to them like their shadow, endless and monstrous, looming behind their every step. but scar is right: they have changed in so many messed up ways, and they might never be the same, but... it's not all bad. 

"we're in love," grian echoes, a notch lighter, just a little bit amused that the list of dark things ends with a complete shift, plunging them into sappiness. it's such a scar-like thing to do; he's aware of just how bad things have gotten, but that doesn't mean he won't fight to dredge up every little optimistic and hopeful thing out of it anyway.

grian loves it. it's gotten him through many dark times, this quality that scar has. his tenacious way of thinking and latching onto bright things, even if it's a barely flickering flame amidst complete, terrifying darkness.

he kisses his head again and then nuzzles against his hair, humming. "it's scar level sappy," he replies, mulling it, before landing on: "which means it's perfect." 

the only time scar's level of sappy is too much is when he's flustering grian, but he's not going to point that out, in case scar takes it as a challenge to compare the two right here and right now. (he'd be capable. grian knows.) 

he rubs at scar's back again, humming a soft melody, wanting to calm him further. but there's one thing even he can unearth from the ashes, something written into all their stitches and scars.

"we survived." 

nothing can beat that. no matter how they've changed, or what they can now see in a different light.

they made it.

"and we're good for each other."

--

SCAR

Scar giggles at the term. Scar-level sappy, indeed. His own brand of optimism, wrapped in layers of insecurity but boundless levels of adoration. 

And it got him this far, didn’t it?

“We survived,” Scar repeats, because that’s so damn important. They survived. And they did it because they were together.

Because they’re good together.

“…the power of love,” Scar adds, soft and sentimental and maybe just a bit goofy, hoping to turn the tides from tears to mirthful laughter.

--

GRIAN

once again he gets grian to giggle in a fragile moment—a talent scar has and grian values. in retaliation, he shifts his hands, brings them much closer, until he can tease at scar's ears. 

"we survived, so now i can do this!" his cheeks are still wet, and he feels depleted from all the heavy emotions, but he still manages a grin as he tries to make scar squirm.

--

SCAR

Scar barks out a fit of genuine laughter, somewhat startled by the shift, but he can’t complain when his lips are suddenly tipped into a bright smile and his ears are flicking wildly at the affectionate abuse. 

“Hey!! No fair! I’ve been so gentle!!” he cackles, already shedding that mercy and tickling at Grian’s ribs.

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

aaand i'm going to end on this note (because you know it devolves again. we're good at making things fall apart repeatedly <3 a great angst loop if you ask me.)

but, i'm going to leave you with a little bonus. which is what me and link talked about today. on this same topic, really.

which is how scar changed. hermits know him as the guy who dies a lot, right? also easily distracted, carefree, easily dissipating into giggles, easily brushing things off. all of that.

he could get startled by a fly. he'd yelp and stumble and fall over when he got scared.

but that other world forced other things on him. it forced him to be brave, or at least, to seem like it. forced him to fight to keep himself and grian safe. fight for them both to survive.

now when he gets scared? there are wings and claws and fangs.

he couldn't show weakness in that world, you know?

and it sticks. it sinks its talons into him and holds.

the only person he shows weakness around is grian. and... maybe if he'd been willing to show it more around the other hermits, they'd see that he's still scar.

that he's still scar and he's hurting and afraid.

(yes blame link for this heartbreak brb sobbing with u)

also. a potential conversation:

someone saying to grian (while scar is also possibly there): "scar came back... wrong."

grian angrily counters with "no, scar came back different but not wrong."

and then

quieter

"... i came back wrong."

because, think about it. scar changed, but it can be argued that some of it is better and he's just being misunderstood. but grian? grian can't imagine any good coming from how he's now.

he didn't grow braver or kinder or stronger or any of those things. he just caused [REDACTED]. he's a scared, hurting mess. there's nothing good about him now.

as link said in our discord dms: scar needs to scoop grian up and remind him that he's here for the whole ride. he'll be here while grian learns to heal.

because he will heal.

[honeycollectswhump]

hey.. hey miss mireille.. can u put out a cigarette on me too?👉👈 i will thank u.. i would be honoured..

[masterlist]

Mireille looks at you, a smile tilting the cigarette in her mouth upwards. She never expected to have another person ask to be used by her, but the thought makes her eyes glint. “Only if you get on your knees first.” she drawls sweetly, the image of a prayer flashing through her mind. 

Eagerly you comply, of course, as you should. It is an honour after all, and the excitement makes you shake a little. You are too focused on her perfectly made nails,long, and red like blood, matching her lipstick and the velvet dress hugging her slender figure. With each poised movement, you come dangerously close to blasphemy. 

Too enticed by the promise of her affection, you don’t notice the way Mireille seems to hesitate, a breath’s moment, before she catches herself, laying two fingers under your chin. “Darling, indulge me, where do you want this lover’s kiss?”

An undeniable red blush creeps up your neck, delightfully highlighting your face. You can barely utter a tone, your mind too focused on her silky voice enveloping you like a veil. Bashfully, you lift the back of your hand towards her and she gracefully takes it, already reaching for her cigarette, stained with her lipstick.

It hurts and sizzles gloriously and you can’t help but gasp, flinching towards her. Mireille’s grip is stronger than you anticipated, holding your hand in place as she twists and turns the cigarette end into your delicate skin, leaving an imprint of soot, ash and burning. 

Once she is done, she flicks the cigarette away, knowing a servant will only rush to pick it up. Still, she doesn’t let go of your hand, instead gazing at the mark she left as if seeing it for the first time, occasionally tilting your hand to catch the light, until she seems satisfied.

With heavy breaths, still on your knees, you thank her, holding your aching, blistering hand close to your heart.

Mireille graces you with a pleased smile. This is a different kind of worship than her ashtray. Somehow, this is even better, more intense, if only because you weren’t created for this, you sought her out by yourself. 

She could get used to this.

[eeblouissant]

[Femme!Dorothy anon, this is a long mess and I wish I could articulate myself better because your thiughts are so interesting] yes exactly. Dorothy doesn't want to be associated with anything masculine, and she genuinely is not masculine. She wears the occasional tie and is straightforward and that's it. She is in no way masc in style or behaviour other than being tall with a deep voice. In fact she's very feminine, her style is entirely conventionally on trend femme as a younger woman and as an older woman she is still clearly feminine just not trendily so (her silhouettes are from older decades and her overall style is very unique for the time yet today looks almost proto Boho in certain respects- imagine a modern substitute arts teacher in a getup of hers.). Why it changed is something you nailed, the divorce hit her self esteem hard and I think facing the reality of that plus how she's treated in general drove her from her ideal style, she gets actively laughed at and mocked when she dresses up. So she's retreated to a compromise, a safe style that she feels comfortable in. I can't articulate my thoughts on the change in her whenever she feels nice in a glitzy gown but I know you'll see where I'm trying to go and how important those glimpses are. And to go back to behaviour, this is why I was actually thinking exactly of the scenario you brought up with the strap. She's a feminine woman who has spent most of her life not being seen as either of those things (and then having both tied to a teenaged pregnancy and marriage which is another depressing complication, her femininity and womanhood are by association denigrated as bad choices, moral failings to be redeemed by being a good mother and wife. what does it mean when Stan cheated on her, in this context?). Dorothy wants to be treated as a desirable woman, a lady, and that goes further than wanting to be seen as pretty in a dress. It's also why I think Rose would understand her far easier than Blanche, why I think Blanche would actually trigger her at some point, because Blanche blatantly sees Dorothy as a masculine figure. She puts Dorothy in a protector role, at times almost desexualizes her because of how she's masculinized her. I don't say this as hate, I love Blanche, but Blanche comes from such a specific and different world to the others and its not out of hate that she does it either, it's simply how Dorothy currently fits into her understanding of the world with the tools she's been given. That's really a whole other topic and I don't want to just shove a whole thesis at you that you might not agree with so back to the original point. Yeah, Dorothy wouldn't in a million years want to wear a strap or have a partner assume she wants to lead/top/penetrate. It would be so deeply, deeply humiliating to her in that context and the opposite of healing. You portrayed the exact opposite of this perfectly in your recent fic, you get what her fantasy would be. And I've vomited so many half formed thoughts at you I'm going to stop talking now. The only thing I want to bring up before I shut up is when they're in the Rusty Anchor bathroom because it kills me everytime on so many levels, seeing Blanche wrestle with actually seeing Dorothy as a beautiful feminine woman, how Dorothy clearly understands how Blanche usually sees her, and Dorothy saying she's jealous of Blanche every day of her life because God, that scene is practically this conversation we're having distilled with how the world sees Dorothy and how much pain that causes her. [This message is all over the place and so long. Please feel free to delete it or only quote little parts. It boils down to me thinking you're so right with your headcanons and meta.]

oh anon 🥹🥹🥹 hand in marriage asap because you just get me - oh my god, how could I ever delete or ignore an ask like this !!!!! I absolutely live for your thoughts always (I am in love, seriously, where do I even begin?)

Honestly - and this might be insane so hear me out - would it be too crazy to say that I think those few times when Dorothy does wear elements of a “masculine” outfit, it could possibly be tied back to her own internal struggle with how she presents herself & how she’s perceived? Like, she thinks that maybe the bullying will quit if she gives in and embraces it, if she takes it back and tries to make it something she’s in control of, to try and enjoy something she feels so deeply uncomfortable with (story of her life tbh) because maybe she’ll be able to drown it out then???? are we seeing the vision … just a little thought that came up after reading that first bit, I like angst a normal amount. I feel like there’s definitely a shift away from that “masc energy” as the show goes on but maybe I’m nuts - of course it could have been for many different reasons !!! But I do think it’s mostly a show of growth & shedding those insecurities / stereotypes / etc.

YES !!!!!!!!!! oh my god dorothy fits the 1920s silhouette sooooo soso well & I think that’s what she would say she gravitates toward if asked (on the surface of course. We know by now that the layers & hiding herself is a result of her past and the constant bullying - I do believe that she may also just genuinely find comfort in dressing this way on some level, I don’t think it’s all negative, but it is definitely rooted in insecurity. The fact that she isn’t the bitter type, going on and on about the body she used to have & how she used to look, is kind of shocking to me ? But also a very good example of her gentle nature!!!!! she’s a lot more sensitive and “submissive” than she lets on imo. Very very gentle soul, she is not what she makes people think she is and it’s so devastating to watch her never let that go in canon because we all know she never will.)

Oh my god exactly exactly exactly — like a lady !!!! I’m so glad you brought up Blanche here (and to the blanche enthusiasts, I’m sorry in advance, look away…) because, listen. I have and will always have a problem with the way blanche literally bully’s her constantly & also ropes rose into it a lot ??? like, does dorothy fire back at her just as harshly, yes. Is it (playfully) deserved on both sides sometimes, yes. But holy hell - it seems like every time blanche fires an insult at Dorothy it gets her right in that delicate place because she always puts up her walls so quickly, like she’s genuinely being attacked. And especially having comments like those come from someone like Blanche - the absolute opposite of everything Dorothy has ever been told is wrong with her. Can you even begin to imagine? This has been talked about a few times in the fandom but it’s a subject that makes me especially upset. Blanche is just so unreasonably harsh. I don’t blame Dorothy for some of the things she says to her sometimes I’m sorry 😭🤚🏻. That ep where they were sitting a the table talking about what they’d say at each others eulogy’s , after Blanche said she always felt safe with Dorothy in the house? Yeah, I dont blame her for throwing out that last comment, I would’ve too. Like wow, okay… ( for the record dorothy is not like exempt from also being nasty sometimes, she’s made some insane comments as well 😭)

Blanche most definitely triggers her, many many times we see it!!! It’s so heartbreaking and I could write an essay on the whole subject. And she HAS to be aware of how severe Dorothy’s insecurities are, Blanche is far from oblivious. She’s not stupid, the whole thing is kind of sick. Petition to stop beating Dorothy into the ground please ??????????? Holy hell ???? I absolutely 100% agree with you anon and feel very strongly about the subject. Of the four of them Dorothy gets it the worst idc - it’s sooooooo heartbreaking because she’s the last of them that can handle it, deep down. Yet another topic I could talk about for hours!!!!

I have manyyyyyyyyyyy many things to say on Dorothy’s insecurities playing a massive role in how she views & feels about sex but I’ll save them for my side account, for now know that you are SO correct anon - it absolutely would be humiliating for her (incredible choice of words btw - holy that was so spot on) and would most definitely end in tears. I’ve brought it up five million times now & I promise I’ll shut up until it’s actually published but this is expanded on in the second chapter of that same fic !! Promise to actually post it soon and stop teasing it every other post haha

[silenced-ghost]

Heeyyyy, I’m sooo desperate and needy. I need you to give me a task, a degrading, humiliating, extreme and disgusting task to do anything. I love anal play so much but I don’t have many toys to pick from. I’ve stalked your profile and you’re the best daddy to ask for a task like that 😋

oh you want to be humiliated like a disgusting slut? let's see what we can do then.

this isn't that long but I'm putting a readmore line because I felt vile writing this out, but you said anything and I wanted to push the limit on kink I'd normally write about!

tw for degradation, ass to mouth, bladder control, and piss - its a nasty one ya'll

I want you to start by drinking a few cups of water. wait a while, and when your bladder starts to feel full it's time for you to play. I want you to sit on the floor of your bathroom and start by fucking your little cunt with your toys, smallest to biggest. I know you said you don't have many but that should never stop a desperate slut, I want you to work with what you have. when you move to the next size up, take the last toy that was in your pussy and gag yourself on it so you can taste your own juices and let drool drip from your mouth down your body. once you hit your biggest toy, repeat this process with your tight ass next. yes, you have to gag on the toys all the same. I want you to cockwarm each toy with your cunt for 10 minutes each, and then 25 minutes each in your ass before moving to the next one. the task will be complete after 25 minutes of cockwarming your biggest toy in your tight ass and gagging on the second biggest after having just taken it in your ass. as you're stuffing your holes and gagging yourself you have one other rule to follow - you're not allowed to piss yourself while you stretch and fill your holes.

do you think you'll be able to follow directions, no matter how ready to burst you are? if you do piss yourself like a disgusting slut, you'll need to be punished appropriately. with both your holes stuffed with toys, I will want you to get on your knees and put your face in your own puddle of piss and pussy juices and audibly repeat "I am a dumb little anal slut and I will learn to follow directions" 5 times. you're not allowed to cum while completing this task either, I want an anal slut that's so needy for disgusting tasks like you to stay edged and desperate.

[batsplat]

watched donington 2005 bc of your rec and loved it! do you have any more recs for interesting (and/or messy) wet races?

sure do! we're going to take a broad definition of 'wet' race here... there's also been some major rule changes this century, like bike swaps didn't used to be a thing - plus I'm not particularly inclined to check how each race was actually categorised. so for our purposes here, any race where I remember the track being wet playing a significant role counts

in honour of being incredibly inconsistent with the asterisk system, this time I've added * or ** by how much of a definite recommend it is as a wet race (also to be complete I'll include donington '05)

donington 2000*: valentino's first premier class win and a very valentino way to do it. absolute horror show of a start that drops him to thirteenth on lap one, and he picks his way through from there on the damp track. lovely little comeback ride as they wobble around - crucially at a time when vale did not have a good reputation as a wet weather racer. fun 3-way fight for the win

suzuka 2002**: the first ever motogp race in nasty nasty conditions, and features an unexpected starring performance from japanese wild card rider akira ryo who was very familiar with the track and where all the puddles were. valentino sticks behind him for much of this race, watching and learning. showcases valentino's approach rather nicely

le mans 2003: this one isn't wet for most of the race, and when it starts raining the race is interrupted. that being said, the sete/valentino duel in slippery conditions after the race resumes is fun and fiddly enough to justify its inclusion. banger of a last lap

mugello 2004: same as above - interrupted a few laps before the end for rain. the conditions are very uncertain when they resume, and the last few laps involves a multi-rider scrap between riders on slicks on a track that is very much not dry. fantastic race

shanghai 2005: conditions proper nasty start to finish, crazy amounts of spray. vale does the thing where he gives himself a bit of work to do and is 6th at some point during the first lap, though he's soon up to 2nd and goes about hunting down kenny roberts jr. in the end he disappears out front, so it's up to everyone else to make it exciting (mostly by struggling to stay on track)

donington 2005**: this one's a go-to pick for a reason. horrendous conditions, high attrition rate, lairy saves, a tense fight for the lead before valentino eventually feels comfortable enough to pull a painful margin on the field. classic race all round

phillip island 2006*: first ever bike swap race! late in the season so it's all very dramatic with the title fight - you've still got several different contenders at this stage with constantly changing fortunes. drama up and down the field until the very very end

donington 2007**: proper wet race and exactly what you want from these things, with the run order constantly chopping and changing. the winning rider spends a lot of time in a lot of different positions, great ride to fight his way through

sachsenring 2008: dani's leading the championship, vale crashed the last time out at assen before recovering to 11th, casey's won the last two races... all three of them have very different races in the full wet conditions. incidentally the last race before laguna

indy 2008*: proper fun scrap in appalling conditions! the usual suspects and also some more unusual suspects (that year anyway) scrapping it out at the sharp end of the race - and they really are going for it given the conditions. once stopped, there isn't a restart, though there's still that fun bit where casey joins valentino to (presumably) tell ezpeleta that they are not going back out there

le mans 2009*: my pitch for this one is that it has a claim to being the most embarrassing race of valentino's career. everything that could possibly go wrong did go wrong. I laugh every time I think about this race, but I suppose you have to admire his perseverance

mugello 2009*: yeah, this one's fun! bike swap race right after le mans so Certain Riders are playing it a bit safe... some great tussling and mixing it up and odd run orders in this one, just what you're looking for. incidentally the last race before catalunya

donington 2009*: another one for people who sometimes want to watch some very talented athletes embarrass themselves. casey has the mystery illness excuse for making a ridiculous tyre choice, but the others? lemme not speak. great chaotic shenanigans

sepang 2009: valentino's first matchpoint race, but he has a horrendous first lap (after qualifying well for once) that makes it look like the championship might not be quite done yet. great race out front from casey, though a lot of this one is about tracking vale and jorge's progress through the field. good fun!

le mans 2011*: plenty of talking points post-race, with some riders perhaps not balancing risk/reward quite right on the slippery track. a fierce fight for the final two podium spots behind casey

silverstone 2011*: the signature casey wet weather performance, and it's just too good from him to be exciting out front. still, the conditions are nasty enough there's plenty of peril behind - which two riders in particular discover while attempting to take on dovi

valencia 2011*: unpleasant first corner pile-up, but it's a nice little race from there in tricky conditions that get worse at the end. an extended dovi/dani duel that has real stakes for championship standings and pride. also you get a really dramatic ending out front, kinda out of nowhere? worth sticking with this one

le mans 2012*: jorge's in that stage of his career where he's a decent wet weather racer, and he very much disappears out front as battle rages behind. valentino fights with casey, fights with dovi/cal, fights with casey again... the last vale/casey duel featuring a last lap overtake

assen 2014: wet to dry bike swap, with more rain threatening. it features the first real dovi/marc scrap (doesn't last long, but they have a 2nd go at it as marc hunts dovi down). plus there's also an impressive comeback ride from vale after a poor tyre choice

aragon 2014: rather a nasty valentino crash close to the start - but once you're through that, you're in for quite a silly one. let's just say the dominant rider that year does not have a particularly dignified day in the office. dry to wet bike swap race, which some perhaps grasped a little too late

silverstone 2015**: first race in which valentino lost the championship lead, but this is the bounce back race in the soaking wet. marc puts a lot of pressure on valentino here, it's 2015, what more do you want? late pressure from other riders too, a signature valentino wet weather ride

misano 2015*: big twists, big turns, massive title fight implications. a flag-to-flag race where both title contenders perhaps don't get it quite right... a lot of chaos where bike swap timing makes all the difference. a truly excellent performance from the winner

sachsenring 2016: no prizes for guessing who won this one, but way more jeopardy than the average visit to the circuit. marc just got these flag-to-flags bang on so often, and it's fun watching him secure what at one stage looked like rather an unlikely victory

brno 2016**: if you can, go into this one without being spoiler-ed, because I promise you that you will not be able to guess the podium combination after the first few laps. a lot of this race ends up being about tyre choice. a slow burn but a goody

misano 2017**: in that stretch of 2017 where every race is a Big Title Fight Race, which makes it so fun 2017 had so many of those in the wet. a fun race throughout, but the last lap is particularly daring and memorable. a signature marc performance

motegi 2017**: a race that gradually builds to a dovi/marc duel - and the additional jeopardy added by the conditions makes it something special. one hell of a last lap

sepang 2017**: first match point race, just to add a little extra drama to proceedings. a lot of tense wobbling about as dovi attempts to navigate his way back to the lead of the race - including past his rather stubborn teammate. excellent performance under high pressure from dovi

valencia 2018*: the conditions get so poor you do get several crashes that just make for unpleasant viewing... when they finally red flag it, the field is severely depleted, then it's broadly more of the same. defo a good race if 'chaos' is what you're looking for

le mans 2020*: entire race on wet track. I don't remember the 1st half of this being all that exciting, but once it gets going it's just SUCH dumb chaos, in a title fight that's all about dumb chaos

austria 2021**: a race that will be remembered more than anything because of the crazy way in which it was won. the whole race is fun, but the last few laps are kinda unforgettable

motegi 2023*: quite fun to have a flag-to-flag this late in the championship fight! the title contenders feature heavily in this one and there's enough shake-ups in the order to keep things interesting. psa: this race doesn't get restarted. pretty short

honourable mentions: valencia 2001, estoril 2002, jerez 2004, estoril 2005, le mans 2007, assen 2011, phillip island 2011, assen 2016, le mans 2021, argentina 2023

[glittergoats]

Anon asked for more SolAxl and who am I to deny them that

[ooogai]

ooc, if ima be honest i actually really like your interpretation of Mori. A weird amount of people make him seem unreasonably cruel & just flat out sadistic but that's. the old pm boss's personality. there's a reason Mori killed that guy. Mori does everything for a *reason* even though he's less. moral. than other characters.

tbh i think his canon interactions with Elise are closer to his actual personality; he doesn't need to uphold the big scary mafia persona in front of his own ability. plus his interactions with atsushi in their first meeting.

✨tldr✨ tired almost-father mori for the win

OOC

IM SMILING LIKE AN ISIOT RN ANON AAAAAA

also also i very much agree with you about the fandom thing, i have a very big thing against fanon characterization in general honestly taht i wont get into rn

but very much tired dad mori ftw <333

[helsafterdark]

hear me out

for the writing prompts, 4.

they dont have enough sweet calm times of just loving each other with no kink

Hearing you out ☝️ for some reason I struggled so hard with getting this done genuinely sorry it took like over a month 😭

( for this )

// ns/fw, casual and soft/sensual, light praise

Ex shoved Hels back on the bed and straddled her, taking in all of him just as hungrily as she was eyeing them.

Slowly, they ran their hands up her body, exploring every scar and curve and stretch mark with their fingertips.

“God why are you so hot all the time it's not fair, “ they complained, hands reaching Hels' chest and casually squeezing one of his tits, brushing over her nipple piercing, “and do not make some dumbfuck fire related joke! It's low hanging fruit.”

Hels opened and closed her mouth. That was obviously what he had been planning to do.

So instead she just laughed and leaned back, relaxing as Ex kissed all along his chest and stomach.

She held their thighs, rubbing circles into the skin, and they were the first to moan when they rolled their hips down against his. Hels could see the lust glittering in their eyes when they leaned in for a kiss.

He let himself get lost in the taste and warmth of them, only vaguely aware of them continuing to grind on her through boxers and him bucking up in return. Her hands slid up from their thighs to their ass and back before finally resting at the sides of their face, holding them gently pulling them in further.

His forked tongue lapped at their bottom lip and into their mouth, the way their bodies were pressed together pushing to kiss to more intense and heated territories.

“Fuck me,” Ex mumbled into her mouth.

Hels groaned, a wave of heat rolling over his body and making her cock harden.

She sat up, pushing Ex off him and onto their back, “Is that what you want? Want me to use you and make you feel full?” his pupils were dilated and dark, far from their normal narrowly slitted state.

They shivered at the words, biting their lip in delight when she got on top of them.

“Please.”

Emotion swelled up inside Hels, desire and pure affection making him almost giddy. He hid his face in the crook of their neck purring and grinning like an idiot while her hands slipped ever so slowly under their boxers waistband and pushed the pair down their legs and off them.

“You're gorgeous…” he whispered.

“You sappy idiot.”

Ex smiled and held the back of her neck, their soft hum turning into a groan when Hels’ calloused fingers rubbed against their cock, already slick and wet with their own arousal.

She teased their hole, tracing around it and a finger or two slipping in to only the first knuckle as she kissed their neck. Ex arched perfectly against his touch, eager and needy and just perfect.

“Helsie…” they whined.

He pushed in deeper and almost moaned feeling how wet they were, it made him feel feral and hot all over. She couldn't control herself; he needed inside of them.

Automatically he started rhythmically toying with them, feeling his face only get warmer and warmer.

“You better get in me now before you spontaneously combust,” Ex's joking words brought her back.

She realized smoke had started to trail from his mouth and ears, his hair hot with flame on the back of his head and the purr in his chest almost a growl.

Hels let out some sort of weak animalistic sound then hastily pulled away to free himself of the last of her clothes.

Wasting no time he pushed Ex's legs over his shoulders and leaned down. Ex fit their fingers perfectly between Hels' - letting their hands be locked together - and grinned.

And when Hels finally started to push in every inch was bliss.

She thrusted steadily and let himself melt into the pleasure, closing her eyes and moaning in tandem with Ex.

Their nails dug into his back, swearing at the intense feeling of just how deep Hels was. She wasn't going particularly fast and that almost made it more intense.

“Why don't you touch yourself baby?” he purred looking down at them, her expression almost smug, “I want you to feel as good as I do.”

Ex moaned again and obediently moved their free hand to touch themself, instinctively bucking against their touch and Hels.

Hels watched Ex's fingers work as his cock slid in and out of their hole with no resistance. She struggled to keep composure as another intense wave of pleasure and arousal pushed through him, enough to almost make her limbs shake.

“I'm not gonna last long, fuck this is good.”

“Like you ever do,” Ex teased.

“First of all, rude, second you're one to talk.”

Hels angled his hips and thrusted hard, making whatever Ex had been about to retort dissolve into a whimper. It didn't escape Hels' notice how they sped up their motions on their cock.

“Yeah I'm- oh actually pretty close-,” they gasped out as Hels continued to to thrust hard into the same spot, picking up speed and letting small moans slip.

Hels snorted in amusement.

“Together?”

The answer was clear. Ex nodded.

Her breath stuttered as heat pooled in her gut, barely able to focus on anything let alone put together sentences. But neither of them could look away from the other - their faces flushed, expressions hazy, skin slightly damp with perspiration.

Ex started to twitch and grabbed Hels' horn, yanking him down close but not kissing him. Their lips trembled as they reached the tantalizing edge of orgasm.

Hels closed her eyes pressing their foreheads together, “You’ve done so well nether star, you deserve this,” she assured them sweetly, intentionally emphasizing his words, “be a good boy for me.”

That was all Ex needed, they went rigid and arched, gripping onto Hels’ horn making him hiss at the pleasure of it, “Hels!”

She gave one last thrust, gasping out half formed ‘i love you’s, then her mind went blank as he came with Ex. They clenched around his pulsing cock, squeezing out every drop of cum into them.

Hels partially collapsed on top of them, panting against their neck.

When she sat up and pulled out they sighed, “Can't you just stay in?”

Hels chuckled, “Maybe after we shower, ‘cmon.”