#how to use ms access

[skunkes]

can we just get one good life sim game please. and Soon instead of 10 yrs from now.

[cimicherrychanga]

i wanna draaaaawwwwww

[meret118]

Microsoft Office, like many companies in recent months, has slyly turned on an “opt-out” feature that scrapes your Word and Excel documents to train its internal AI systems. This setting is turned on by default, and you have to manually uncheck a box in order to opt out.

If you are a writer who uses MS Word to write any proprietary content (blog posts, novels, or any work you intend to protect with copyright and/or sell), you’re going to want to turn this feature off immediately.How to Turn off Word’s AI Access To Your Content

I won’t beat around the bush. Microsoft Office doesn’t make it easy to opt out of this new AI privacy agreement, as the feature is hidden through a series of popup menus in your settings:On a Windows computer, follow these steps to turn off “Connected Experiences”:

File > Options > Trust Center > Trust Center Settings > Privacy Options > Privacy Settings > Optional Connected Experiences > Uncheck box: “Turn on optional connected experiences”

[tofupixel]

⭐ So you want to learn pixel art? ⭐

🔹 Part 1 of ??? - The Basics!

Edit: Now available in Google Doc format if you don't have a Tumblr account 🥰

Hello, my name is Tofu and I'm a professional pixel artist. I have been supporting myself with freelance pixel art since 2020, when I was let go from my job during the pandemic.

My progress, from 2017 to 2024. IMO the only thing that really matters is time and effort, not some kind of natural talent for art.

This guide will not be comprehensive, as nobody should be expected to read allat. Instead I will lean heavily on my own experience, and share what worked for me, so take everything with a grain of salt. This is a guide, not a tutorial. Cheers!

🔹 Do I need money?

NO!!! Pixel art is one of the most accessible mediums out there.

I still use a mouse because I prefer it to a tablet! You won't be at any disadvantage here if you can't afford the best hardware or software.

Because our canvases are typically very small, you don't need a good PC to run a good brush engine or anything like that.

✨Did you know? One of the most skilled and beloved pixel artists uses MS PAINT! Wow!!

🔹 What software should I use?

Here are some of the most popular programs I see my friends and peers using. Stars show how much I recommend the software for beginners! ⭐

💰 Paid options:

⭐⭐⭐ Aseprite (for PC) - $19.99

This is what I and many other pixel artists use. You may find when applying to jobs that they require some knowledge of Aseprite. Since it has become so popular, companies like that you can swap raw files between artists.

Aseprite is amazingly customizable, with custom skins, scripts and extensions on Itch.io, both free and paid.

If you have ever used any art software before, it has most of the same features and should feel fairly familiar to use. It features a robust animation suite and a tilemap feature, which have saved me thousands of hours of labour in my work. The software is also being updated all the time, and the developers listen to the users. I really recommend Aseprite!

⭐ Photoshop (for PC) - Monthly $$

A decent option for those who already are used to the PS interface. Requires some setup to get it ready for pixel-perfect art, but there are plenty of tutorials for doing so.

Animation is also much more tedious on PS which you may want to consider before investing time!

⭐⭐ ProMotion NG (for PC) - $19.00

An advanced and powerful software which has many features Aseprite does not, including Colour Cycling and animated tiles.

⭐⭐⭐ Pixquare (for iOS) - $7.99 - $19.99 (30% off with code 'tofu'!!)

Probably the best app available for iPad users, in active development, with new features added all the time.

Look! My buddy Jon recommends it highly, and uses it often.

One cool thing about Pixquare is that it takes Aseprite raw files! Many of my friends use it to work on the same project, both in their office and on the go.

⭐ Procreate (for iOS) - $12.99

If you have access to Procreate already, it's a decent option to get used to doing pixel art. It does however require some setup. Artist Pixebo is famously using Procreate, and they have tutorials of their own if you want to learn.

⭐⭐ ReSprite iOS and Android. (free trial, but:) $19.99 premium or $$ monthly

ReSprite is VERY similar in terms of UI to Aseprite, so I can recommend it. They just launched their Android release!

🆓 Free options:

⭐⭐⭐ Libresprite (for PC)

Libresprite is an alternative to Aseprite. It is very, very similar, to the point where documentation for Aseprite will be helpful to Libresprite users.

⭐⭐ Pixilart (for PC and mobile)

A free in-browser app, and also a mobile app! It is tied to the website Pixilart, where artists upload and share their work. A good option for those also looking to get involved in a community.

⭐⭐ Dotpict (for mobile)

Dotpict is similar to Pixilart, with a mobile app tied to a website, but it's a Japanese service. Did you know that in Japanese, pixel art is called 'Dot Art'? Dotpict can be a great way to connect with a different community of pixel artists! They also have prompts and challenges often.

🔹 So I got my software, now what?

◽Nice! Now it's time for the basics of pixel art.

❗ WAIT ❗ Before this section, I want to add a little disclaimer. All of these rules/guidelines can be broken at will, and some 'no-nos' can look amazing when done intentionally.

The pixel-art fundamentals can be exceedingly helpful to new artists, who may feel lost or overwhelmed by choice. But if you feel they restrict you too harshly, don't force yourself! At the end of the day it's your art, and you shouldn't try to contort yourself into what people think a pixel artist 'should be'. What matters is your own artistic expression. 💕👍

◽Phew! With that out of the way...

🔸"The Rules"

There are few hard 'rules' of pixel art, mostly about scaling and exporting. Some of these things will frequently trip up newbies if they aren't aware, and are easy to overlook.

🔹Scaling method

There are a couple ways of scaling your art. The default in most art programs, and the entire internet, is Bi-linear scaling, which usually works out fine for most purposes. But as pixel artists, we need a different method.

Both are scaled up x10. See the difference?

On the left is scaled using Bilinear, and on the right is using Nearest-Neighbor. We love seeing those pixels stay crisp and clean, so we use nearest-neighbor. 

(Most pixel-art programs have nearest-neighbor enabled by default! So this may not apply to you, but it's important to know.)

🔹Mixels

Mixels are when there are different (mixed) pixel sizes in the same image.

Here I have scaled up my art- the left is 200%, and the right is 150%. Yuck!

As we can see, the "pixel" sizes end up different. We generally try to scale our work by multiples of 100 - 200%, 300% etc. rather than 150%. At larger scales however, the minute differences in pixel sizes are hardly noticeable!

Mixels are also sometimes seen when an artist scales up their work, then continues drawing on it with a 1 pixel brush.

Many would say that this is not great looking! This type of pixels can be indicative of a beginner artist. But there are plenty of creative pixel artists out there who mixels intentionally, making something modern and cool.

🔹Saving Your Files

We usually save our still images as .PNGs as they don’t create any JPEG artifacts or loss of quality. It's a little hard to see here, but there are some artifacts, and it looks a little blurry. It also makes the art very hard to work with if we are importing a JPEG.

For animations .GIF is good, but be careful of the 256 colour limit. Try to avoid using too many blending mode layers or gradients when working with animations. If you aren’t careful, your animation could flash afterwards, as the .GIF tries to reduce colours wherever it can. It doesn’t look great!

Here's an old piece from 2021 where I experienced .GIF lossiness, because I used gradients and transparency, resulting in way too many colours.

🔹Pixel Art Fundamentals - Techniques and Jargon

❗❗Confused about Jaggies? Anti-Aliasing? Banding? Dithering? THIS THREAD is for you❗❗ << it's a link, click it!!

As far as I'm concerned, this is THE tutorial of all time for understanding pixel art. These are techniques created and named by the community of people who actually put the list together, some of the best pixel artists alive currently. Please read it!!

🔸How To Learn

Okay, so you have your software, and you're all ready to start. But maybe you need some more guidance? Try these tutorials and resources! It can be helpful to work along with a tutorial until you build your confidence up.

⭐⭐ Pixel Logic (A Digital Book) - $10 A very comprehensive visual guide book by a very skilled and established artist in the industry. I own a copy myself.

⭐⭐⭐ StudioMiniBoss - free A collection of visual tutorials, by the artist that worked on Celeste! When starting out, if I got stuck, I would go and scour his tutorials and see how he did it.

⭐ Lospec Tutorials - free A very large collection of various tutorials from all over the internet. There is a lot to sift through here if you have the time.

⭐⭐⭐ Cyangmou's Tutorials - free (tipping optional) Cyangmou is one of the most respected and accomplished modern pixel artists, and he has amassed a HUGE collection of free and incredibly well-educated visual tutorials. He also hosts an educational stream every week on Twitch called 'pixelart for beginners'.

⭐⭐⭐ Youtube Tutorials - free There are hundreds, if not thousands of tutorials on YouTube, but it can be tricky to find the good ones. My personal recommendations are MortMort, Brandon, and AdamCYounis- these guys really know what they're talking about!

🔸 How to choose a canvas size

When looking at pixel art turorials, we may see people suggest things like 16x16, 32x32 and 64x64. These are standard sizes for pixel art games with tiles. However, if you're just making a drawing, you don't necessarily need to use a standard canvas size like that.

What I like to think about when choosing a canvas size for my illustrations is 'what features do I think it is important to represent?' And make my canvas as small as possible, while still leaving room for my most important elements.

Imagine I have characters in a scene like this:

I made my canvas as small as possible (232 x 314), but just big enough to represent the features and have them be recognizable (it's Good Omens fanart 😤)!! If I had made it any bigger, I would be working on it for ever, due to how much more foliage I would have to render.

If you want to do an illustration and you're not sure, just start at somewhere around 100x100 - 200x200 and go from there.

It's perfectly okay to crop your canvas, or scale it up, or crunch your art down at any point if you think you need a different size. I do it all the time! It only takes a bit of cleanup to get you back to where you were.

🔸Where To Post

Outside of just regular socials, Twitter, Tumblr, Deviantart, Instagram etc, there are a few places that lean more towards pixel art that you might not have heard of.

⭐ Lospec Lospec is a low-res focused art website. Some pieces get given a 'monthly masterpiece' award. Not incredibly active, but I believe there are more features being added often.

⭐⭐ Pixilart Pixilart is a very popular pixel art community, with an app tied to it. The community tends to lean on the young side, so this is a low-pressure place to post with an relaxed vibe.

⭐⭐ Pixeljoint Pixeljoint is one of the big, old-school pixel art websites. You can only upload your art unscaled (1x) because there is a built-in zoom viewer. It has a bit of a reputation for being elitist (back in the 00s it was), but in my experience it's not like that any more. This is a fine place for a pixel artist to post if they are really interested in learning, and the history. The Hall of Fame has some of the most famous / impressive pixel art pieces that paved the way for the work we are doing today.

⭐⭐⭐ Cafe Dot Cafe Dot is my art server so I'm a little biased here. 🍵 It was created during the recent social media turbulence. We wanted a place to post art with no algorithms, and no NFT or AI chuds. We have a heavy no-self-promotion rule, and are more interested in community than skill or exclusivity. The other thing is that we have some kind of verification system- you must apply to be a Creator before you can post in the Art feed, or use voice. This helps combat the people who just want to self-promo and dip, or cause trouble, as well as weed out AI/NFT people. Until then, you are still welcome to post in any of the threads or channels. There is a lot to do in Cafe Dot. I host events weekly, so check the threads!

⭐⭐/r/pixelart The pixel art subreddit is pretty active! I've also heard some of my friends found work through posting here, so it's worth a try if you're looking. However, it is still Reddit- so if you're sensitive to rude people, or criticism you didn't ask for, you may want to avoid this one. Lol

🔸 Where To Find Work

You need money? I got you! As someone who mostly gets scouted on social media, I can share a few tips with you:

Put your email / portfolio in your bio Recruiters don't have all that much time to find artists, make it as easy as possible for someone to find your important information!

Clean up your profile If your profile feed is all full of memes, most people will just tab out rather than sift through. Doesn't apply as much to Tumblr if you have an art tag people can look at.

Post regularly, and repost Activity beats everything in the social media game. It's like rolling the dice, and the more you post the more chances you have. You have to have no shame, it's all business baby

Outside of just posting regularly and hoping people reach out to you, it can be hard to know where to look. Here are a few places you can sign up to and post around on.

/r/INAT INAT (I Need A Team) is a subreddit for finding a team to work with. You can post your portfolio here, or browse for people who need artists.

/r/GameDevClassifieds Same as above, but specifically for game-related projects.

Remote Game Jobs / Work With Indies Like Indeed but for game jobs. Browse them often, or get email notifications.

VGen VGen is a website specifically for commissions. You need a code from another verified artist before you can upgrade your account and sell, so ask around on social media or ask your friends. Once your account is upgraded, you can make a 'menu' of services people can purchase, and they send you an offer which you are able to accept, decline, or counter.

The evil websites of doom: Fiverr and Upwork I don't recommend them!! They take a big cut of your profit, and the sites are teeming with NFT and AI people hoping to make a quick buck. The site is also extremely oversaturated and competitive, resulting in a race to the bottom (the cheapest, the fastest, doing the most for the least). Imagine the kind of clients who go to these websites, looking for the cheapest option. But if you're really desperate...

🔸 Community

I do really recommend getting involved in a community. Finding like-minded friends can help you stay motivated to keep drawing. One day, those friends you met when you were just starting out may become your peers in the industry. Making friends is a game changer!

Discord servers Nowadays, the forums of old are mostly abandoned, and people split off into many different servers. Cafe Dot, Pixel Art Discord (PAD), and if you can stomach scrolling past all the AI slop, you can browse Discord servers here.

Twitch Streams Twitch has kind of a bad reputation for being home to some of the more edgy gamers online, but the pixel art community is extremely welcoming and inclusive. Some of the people I met on Twitch are my friends to this day, and we've even worked together on different projects! Browse pixel art streams here, or follow some I recommend: NickWoz, JDZombi, CupOhJoe, GrayLure, LumpyTouch, FrankiePixelShow, MortMort, Sodor, NateyCakes, NyuraKim, ShinySeabass, I could go on for ever really... There are a lot of good eggs on Pixel Art Twitch.

🔸 Other Helpful Websites

Palettes Lospec has a huge collection of user-made palettes, for any artist who has trouble choosing their colours, or just wants to try something fun. Rejected Palettes is full of palettes that didn't quite make it onto Lospec, ran by people who believe there are no bad colours.

The Spriters Resource TSR is an incredible website where users can upload spritesheets and tilesets from games. You can browse for your favourite childhood game, and see how they made it! This website has helped me so much in understanding how game assets come together in a scene.

VGMaps Similar to the above, except there are entire maps laid out how they would be played. This is incredible if you have to do level design, or for mocking up a scene for fun.

Game UI Database Not pixel-art specific, but UI is a very challenging part of graphics, so this site can be a game-changer for finding good references!

Retronator A digital newspaper for pixel-art lovers! New game releases, tutorials, and artworks!

Itch.io A website where people can upload, games, assets, tools... An amazing hub for game devs and game fans alike. A few of my favourite tools: Tiled, PICO-8, Pixel Composer, Juice FX, Magic Pencil for Aseprite

🔸 The End?

This is just part 1 for now, so please drop me a follow to see any more guides I release in the future. I plan on doing some writeups on how I choose colours, how to practise, and more!

I'm not an expert by any means, but everything I did to get to where I am is outlined in this guide. Pixel art is my passion, my job and my hobby! I want pixel art to be recognized everywhere as an art-form, a medium of its own outside of game-art or computer graphics!

This guide took me a long time, and took a lot of research and experience. Consider following me or supporting me if you are feeling generous.

And good luck to all the fledgling pixel artists, I hope you'll continue and have fun. I hope my guide helped you, and don't hesitate to send me an ask if you have any questions! 💕

My other tutorials (so far): How to draw Simple Grass for a game Hue Shifting

[transgendz]

Making this short, heavy details below the cut: household is 3 disabled people, I'm the main provider. I do art stuff. Extreme medical costs coming up, no insurance for 2/3 of us, cancer for the person who is insured, recent surgery for me and struggling to get back to work, behind on bills, we are a queer family, and one of us is intersex and needs a legal gender and name change to maintain safety and get access to more resources in an increasingly fascist state.

Dm for proof, vetted by @kyra45-helping-others who does scam busting on here, again below the cut, including details about the goal of this post

My kofi is set up with monthly tiers, and my art blog is @theartistrans examples above

$C--V--PP--kofi

The oldest of us has a cancer diagnosis, which, they're not sure it's cancer anymore but they're not sure it's Not cancer, so they're doing a lot more tests and either way she's going to likely need chemo, as that's the next major treatment option for her disability either way. It's Be Ready For Chemo purgatory.

M recently got his proof of citizenship and related documents from abusive adoptive parents, and needs a name and gender change. He frequently encounters discrimination as a result of not having this already. He may need to drive cross country to get that done, things here are changing quickly it's already very difficult to get a name change here in these situations. He is intersex and needing medical treatment relating to that, but the appointment coming up in a few days will be $500 because he doesn't have insurance. He needs an epi pen and doesn't have one. We both severely need new glasses, that in particular affects my ability to work.

Not being able to get insurance has meant extreme costs, some of them monthly bc of monthly prescription refills, which we increasingly just haven't been able to cover

If/when we can get his name changed (and that is kind of priority atp) we will get married which will provide us the peace of mind of being eachothers next of kin, but also enable us to have insurance and have our income rightly seen as joint in the eyes of our state.

We may need to leave our state. We need to building an emergency fund, but this isn't about this, this is about enabling us to just get stable.

The lack of stability has badly worn on my mental health as the main provider. I am constantly afraid of us becoming homeless again. I struggle often to levels I am not comfortable discussing here. Poverty has caused us to lose a concerning amount of weight, M and I weighing about what we did when we hit puberty. Things are going badly.

Our total goal is unclear right now, it all sort of depends on how quick things go, and how much Ms abusive adoptive parents help. We will absolutely need almost 2k just to get the immediate medical stuff and most urgent bills taken care of though. As mentioned before M's upcoming appointment is $500

[caffeinewitchcraft]

WIBTA for going to my high school reunion even though the two witches I stripped of magic are going?

(Read for free on Patreon (X))

I (28 witch) was in a coven during high school. Not really even a coven. We weren’t recognized and there wasn’t a clear division of responsibilities. We did have a high priestess but she hadn’t Declared or been Initiated or whatever she believed. Looking back, her learning was all over the place (and a little problematic, honestly. I remember her calling a poppet a Voodoo doll before being called out by another member). Let’s call her Sarah.

Sarah was a year older than the rest of us (still the same grade though) and her mom was a witch so that made her the high priestess. She was the one who would organize all of our rituals and held the power of veto over any proposed spells. While you think that’d mean she’d provide the ingredients, she never did. She did tell us what to buy and, let me tell you, some of those things were expensive for a high schooler. We met in the park behind her house, and she demanded that at least one of us be in every one of her classes. If we weren’t, we’d be “cycled” out of the coven until our parents convinced the school to transfer us in.

Any alt kid knows what I’m talking about because they had a Sarah in their life. If she was angry, we had to be angry (and a little afraid of her). If she was sad, we were expected to ask why. If she was happy, we had to be even more happy. You get the picture.

The problem came when Sarah added Jess (fake name) to the Coven during the start of our junior year. It was the first time Sarah allowed someone else from a witch family to join. Jess was a transfer student from England. She told us all that that made her magic deeper and more powerful because she was a “daughter of the witches you could not burn.” When I pointed out that that statement is historically inaccurate, Jess called me a “pilgrim.” She tried to convince Sarah to blind me (take away my decision-making power in the coven), but I was the only one with reliable access to dried herbs (my mom’s a botanist and didn’t count her stores like Sarah’s mom did), so Sarah said no.

Jess’ dislike of me got worse when I actually did dress like a pilgrim for Halloween that year. And, if I’m honest, I did take it a little far. I was a hot-headed kid. I followed her around the entire day and had kids sign one of two petitions – “Burn” or “Not Burn.” When the Burn Petition won, I could tell I went too far (there were a LOT of signatures).  I tried to make it a joke and told her that now she really was a witch we couldn’t burn.

Jess and I got in our first physical fight. Sarah eventually broke it up, but not before Jess ripped out a good chunk of my hair, and I broke the tiger’s eye bracelet she wore.

 I later heard from another coven member that Jess tried to lay a curse on me that night. Unfortunately for her, I was pretty interested in defensive work and had a fresh witch’s jar buried under my window. Her curse got caught in it and rebounded. Apparently, that’s how Jess got pink eye, not from her younger sister.

We fought like cats and dogs. Any time Jess would talk about England, I’d make fun of her accent. When I brought up what spell I’d like to do, Jess would call me a juvenile pilgrim. Eventually, Jess got smart. She’d text me insults rather than say them to my face so that she’d have a chance to tattle to Sarah before I got the chance to hit back.

Sarah pulled me aside at least three times to “address” the fights. She basically said that I needed to respect Jess more because she came from a witch family, like her. She told me I could learn a lot from Jess if I stopped acting like a human. When I pointed out that we are humans, just humans who have elected to use magic, she got really mad.

And when Sarah got mad, she could make life really difficult.

My spell for luck on midterms got passed over for Jess’ jinx on our English teacher. The jinx worked and Ms. Edel tripped, but guess who still came to class with a broken leg? MS. EDEL. Guess who failed their midterm?

ALL SEVEN OF US.

Damn, I can’t believe I’m still upset by this petty high school drama. Therapy did not work.

So safe to say that Jess and I never became friends. I love magic now and loved it then, but she took it so seriously. I’ve always believed magic should be fun. All the spells she brought to the coven required a spirit element—blood, hair, sacrifice. One of the members was a strict green witch and had to drop out because of it. We missed two full moons until Sarah approved Eileen to rejoin after she woke up from her coma.

(And before anyone freaks out about the coma – we all ended up in comas here and there. We were a bunch of uneducated and untrained baby witches who all had different belief systems. The fact that there wasn’t anything worse than a coma is a miracle. She wasn’t traumatized by it any more than I was by mine.)

Jess and I mostly avoided each other for the rest of the year. We always voted against the other’s spell and I’m fairly certain she tried to trip jinx me in the hall as often as I tried to trip jinx her. Sarah never tried to diffuse the tension between us. She confided in Eileen that she was grateful we kept each other in check.

Things could have continued on that way until we all moved away for college (or repeated the year after failing all those midterms) if it weren’t for the vernal equinox. Or, as we inaccurately called it, the Spring Solstice.

The way it worked was that we all got to propose a ritual during equinoxes. They’re powerful magical events on their own and when you bring intent to the party? They were always our biggest, most successful workings.

Sarah always chose what we did on those days. She pretended like we got to vote, but we all knew she would never choose one of our rituals. My freshman year, she made us all do one for beauty. Because it was a “make real what is in the eye of the beholder” type, some of our transformations were a little…traumatizing. I’m only telling you this so you understand the power an equinox has, okay? I do not think this way anymore. Other members were just as extreme. Eileen went from a Wendy from Wendy’s to a Jessica Rabbit. And I…

Well.

I grew rabbit ears and teeth. That doesn’t make me a furry! Who Framed Roger Rabbit? was super influential on BOTH Eileen and me. I was a kid and didn’t understand my own concept of beauty. It took almost three months before I got the ears to go away entirely.

Suffice it to say, we were all excited and nervous for what ritual Sarah would pick, which is why it was a blow to find out that she had picked a ritual - Jess’ ritual.

A ritual for power.

I didn’t want to do it from day one, okay? My belief is that whatever magic comes to you naturally is what’s okay to take. I think if you rip magic up from the earth or the abyss, it’ll change you. Maybe even corrupt you or change your personality.

But I was a kid and didn’t know how to explain that. Jess and Sarah were both from witch families and they seemed to think it was okay. Even though I didn’t like Jess, I did see her as a more “authentic” witch because of that. I know better now, but as a kid seeing all of her grimoires, I gave her false authority.

Jess explained the ritual to us over the next month. She talked about how we were going to be “tested.” The ritual would pull our spiritual selves from our bodies, and depending on how long we chanted, we’d return to them with more or less magic than when we started. She said that everyone in her family did it when they turned 18.

It wasn’t until three days before the equinox that she told us what would happen if one of us were to be judged unworthy.

“Mostly nothing,” she said. I remember her exact words, how her black hair spun as she soared through the air on the swings. We stood in a half circle before her and Sarah as they swung higher and higher. An audience to their aerial court. She said, “Sometimes people lose some of their magic. When the ritual decides they don’t deserve it.”

Eileen asked, “When the ritual decides? It’s sentient?”

“There’s an overseer we’ll call on,” Sarah said. She’d been the only one allowed to read Jess’ grimoire. Her lip curled and she leaned forward so she could look down over Eileen like an avenging angel as she swung overhead. “An impartial entity.”

“I am not a deity witch,” I said. I had long ago committed that I would never call on a higher being in any ritual. Most of our spells had to be modified for me so that I could swear to the cardinal directions rather than to the Morrigan or Hecate. “You know that.”

“You’re not swearing to anyone,” Sarah said and rolled her eyes.

“Which means no one is swearing to us,” Eileen muttered under her breath. But I could tell she had given up by the slump of her shoulders.

“It’s only the unworthy who lose their magic,” Jess reassured. Her eyes flashed at me. “Scared you’re unworthy?”

Yes. I was scared. I know better now than to think lineage has any place in witchcraft. It’s about the magic, always just the magic. But months of hearing their rhetoric had worn at my self-esteem. It really felt like if I didn’t do the ritual, I was as good as admitting I wasn’t a witch. If I did do the ritual…

Well. Obviously, I did the ritual.

I was a hot-headed teen, okay? I felt challenged. I decided that I would wear extra protections. Tiger’s eye and quartz charged with intention. I picked out a silver locket my mother gave me, filled with belladonna. She told me it symbolized beauty and choice.

Now, here’s where I may be the asshole.

I can’t give you a play-by-play of the ritual. It was ten years ago, and calling on that much magic has a funny way of warping memory. But what I do remember is this:

We gathered in the park before sunrise. Seven of us in new colors – spring green, white, soft yellow and pink. Jess made us get rid of anything with a working on it – crystals, cards, and ladders. She collected them all in a linen bag and threw them into the woods. I couldn’t get away with my tiger’s eye or quartz, but she missed the pendant my mother gave me. It was a warm comfort against my chest as we began.

We lit the fire together, each of us frantically thumbing our lighter to make sure the sparks caught at the same time.

Jess brought the chalice. We all cut our palms and let seven drops fall into it. (No, we didn’t use a clean blade. My cut got infected as hell and it itches like a witch. I know better now!) She bade us drink, and we did.

“Now the magic will see us as equal,” Sarah said while Jess prepared the next step. She licked her lips as if savoring the blood. “It will only be our wills determining the outcome.”

Jess doused us with oil and herbs. It smelled sharp and uneasy. I had provided the herbs and knew all of them were either fresh or dried to perfection. But it was rancid. There was rot in the air, but I couldn’t place it then. I wrinkled my nose and took up the chanting with the others to distract myself from the smell.

If you’ve ever chanted before, you know the stages. First, you’re just talking. You say the words and they mean something, but you don’t feel them. Then your mouth gets tired. You start messing up the timing of the words. You stutter. You stumble. The words lose meaning. Most people stop there. They fall silent and sink into a shallow meditation with heads full of fog.

You’re only a witch if you can reach the next step. You keep saying the words. They become comfortable. You wear the words like clothes and feel your cadence curl through you like a companion. Your body goes on autopilot and your mind relaxes. The chant turns smooth as silk. Depending on the chant, you lose yourself to the sweetness of your coven singing. Sometimes, you sink into the earth with them. Other times, you ride the flow of the magic like waves.

This time, the words pulled us away from our bodies. Jess slowly introduced new words to our chant. Words of summoning.

We called upon the Overseer.

Pressure fell around me like a vice. I couldn’t breathe even as the ritual fell from my lips without breaking. Magic had, at that point, always given me control. This? This was a complete loss of it.

I felt myself compressing. Smaller and smaller in the face of the being that was rising in the middle of the flames. It was not an observer. The moment I “saw” it, its endless form writhing in the space between the smoke, I knew that. It was a judge and jury.

It was a spider.

We chanted. It grew. It pulled us from our bodies like spiderweb and spooled our essences onto its forelimbs. It was not what Jess described and, simultaneously, it was. We were being tested. Our psyches were being tested.

So long as we chanted, the being would be contained. However, the longer it was contained, the more of us it could take. If we let it go, what would it do? Would it return any part of our magic to us? Any part of who we were?

Or would it eat?

This wasn’t a test of magic. It was a test of faith. Faith in each other and faith in the ritual.

For those practitioners out there, you can see the problem. I didn’t enter the ritual with faith. My intent was flawed from the beginning. We’d had spells fail because of lack of belief. I had never been the person who didn’t believe.

Until then

My words wavered. The Overseer turned its eyes to me. I could see my magic like thread before it, shimmering against the backdrop of its maw.

Then another tremor. Eileen dropped a word. The Overseer split and looked at both of us. Someone else faltered. One of the coven – I couldn’t see them – fell and went silent.

The sky yawned overhead, empty and cold. The embers from the fire spun up into it and were lost. The Overseer rippled and I felt our coven shrink in the face of it.

I gasped around the chant and looked across the fire. The light licked Jess’ gleeful face. Her eyes hungered for my failure. I could see it. Through the connection of the Overseer, I could feel it.

Jess and Sarah changed the chant. To this day, I don’t remember if they taught it to the rest of us. There are so many parts of the ritual that I’ve left out or forgotten. But I remember them chanting different words. The circle grew discordant.

“I offer my magic so I may be unspun and woven anew,” they said. The words have imprinted themselves like bitters under my tongue. “I offer my magic so I may—”

Some of the other members tried to pick up the new chant. Their voices grew weaker and the Overseer’s limbs began to extend out towards each one of us.

I wouldn’t offer my magic to that thing. I wouldn’t be unspun.  Eileen was stuttering. I saw her fall to her knees. I was close behind.

I threw my necklace into the flames.

Belladonna. Beautiful and deadly. It has meant choice to many women and many of them have been from my own family. It's extreme and it’s final. An end that doesn’t always make room for a new beginning.

Pretty words that cover up what I meant when I threw it into the Overseer.

My intent was Death.

Entities never die. I’m sure the Overseer didn’t. It howled. The wind kicked up and brought the flames into a spiral ten feet tall. Its forelimbs shattered, and I reeled myself back together greedily.

Not all of us were safe from the Overseer’s desperate struggle against my death curse.

Sarah and Jess were alone in the third phase of the ritual. They had changed the chant. They had offered their magic and asked the entity to do with it what it will. They believed.

And because they believed, the Overseer took their magic with it.

I think it was the first coma Jess ever fell into. Her family certainly acted like it. They whisked her back to the East Coast before the end of the year. I heard from Eileen that she woke up shortly after I left for college.

Magicless.

Sarah too.

I fully own that I was responsible for the ritual failing. I panicked. I’ve gone through every excuse over the years. I didn’t know what the ritual really was. I was just a kid. I took magic too lightly. It was their fault for not letting us read the grimoire for ourselves. But, at the end of the day, the real reason the ritual failed was because I panicked and I let that panic break my belief.

I moved on to college and it felt like running away. I’ve never returned to my hometown. I’m happy with the life I’ve built. My magic summer camp gives me time to travel during the winter months, and I feel like I’m making a real difference in young witches’ lives.

Nowadays I teach young witches to never do a working without full intent. If they have doubts, they don’t do it. It’s a lesson I learned the hard way ten years ago. I tell them it can cost them more than their magic. It can cost them their lives.

Eileen is still back home and she says Sarah rarely comes out of her house. Sometimes she sees our former high priestess wandering the school grounds on nights of the full moon. I hear from other members of the coven that Jess’ family put out a bounty on me a few years ago. However, I never saw an assassin so I think that was just a rumor.

So, knowing that they’re still not over it, would I be the asshole for attending my high school reunion next month? I’ve been craving reconnection with my roots, but I’d be subjecting Sarah and Jess (though Jess marked Maybe on the RSVP) to my presence.

I know they must hold a grudge. If they were still witches, that would be a problem. I don’t think I’d be able to defend myself from one of their workings since I blame myself for what happened. But since they’re not, it’s not really a danger. That’s pretty asshole-ish, right? Ignoring their feelings because they don’t have the magic to back it up?

So WIBTA for attending my high school reunion even though the two girls I stripped of magic will be attending?

-----

Thanks for reading! It looks like I'll have quite a few updates for the anthology! I am still obsessed with this format and can't wait to share some of the updates over the next few weeks.

If you'd like to support me before the anthology, please consider supporting me on Patreon (X)! I post new stories every week and many of my patrons saw the above story a week early.

The current AITA story takes place in the same universe as our former Cryptid (X). About a poor, poor boy who is just proud to be a regional Nightmare. Why is everyone so mad at him?

See y'all next week!

[canideformed]

Trans men do not have male privilege because you cannot separate their trans identity from their male identity.

People love to say, “but they’re men and men are privileged!” as if you can just. Pretend they’re not also trans. Or they say that it doesn’t matter that they’re trans if they pass because people will just see them as men.

Just. Think it through. Think about what happens when the experiences of trans and cis men are compared at any systemic level.

1. A cis woman says that a cis man sexually assaulted her. The woman is told she is probably dramatic by the cops and the cis man isn’t impacted because all his friends are misogynists. People talk about how boys will be boys and how it wasn’t his fault, women wouldn’t understand men’s’ sex drives.

2. A cis woman outs a trans man and says he sexually assaulted her. The trans man is arrested and jailed (keeping in mind you can be arrested with no proof, only reasonable suspicion—such as an allegation) by cops who openly watch him pee because they wanted to get a look at a pussy on a man. He gets out and his friends hear through the grapevine that he’s trans. They laugh at and grope him the next time they see him and they ostracise him. People talk about how testosterone is such an evil chemical and how the trans guy is dangerous because he has a “female brain running on toxic male hormones.”

For another comparison—

1. A cis man goes in for a routine sexual health checkup—a prostate exam. It is quick, though awkward and uncomfortable. He later begins to feel ill. He sees a doctor who takes his symptoms seriously and treats him appropriately.

2. A trans man goes in for a routine sexual health checkup—a pap smear. He is stared at in the waiting room. The nurse calls “Ms.__” and is visibly confused when he stands up. The doctor isn’t educated on trans bodies and doesn’t use enough lube (or simply doesn’t care to) and it hurts. The doctor asks invasive questions about bottom growth and ignores the guys’ preferred terminology for his parts and his identity. The guy files an insurance claim that is denied because his legal gender is M. He has to either pay or try to deal with the company. He begins to feel ill. He sees a doctor who sees that he’s trans in his chart or spots the testosterone prescription or an old or legal name. The doctor tells him it’s probably the T without doing a proper exam and that T is dangerous for “females” and he should consider stopping.

Male privilege is systemic. It’s not just who the waiter looks at first when they take a dinner order. It’s men being protected by the system by other men in power. Trans men do not have that protection. The second a transphobe thinks a criminal might have been a trans man they start talking about how it was because his mind couldn’t handle the testosterone. (Remember when there was a rumour that a school shooter was transmasc?). They worry about him “tainting” cis women. Because he is trans, it means that people don’t even see him as man enough to be protected by the system. It is because he is a trans man and trans manhood is not respected as Real by the cistem.

Part of male privilege is having your voice believed and your autonomy respected. But trans men are told their pain isn’t real, that they’re being dramatic, that it’s their period or the T. Trans men are at risk for sexual abuse and fetishisation by cis people who might use a medical exam as an excuse to hurt or assault them. Trans men are not seen as a possible type of man, so insurance systems auto-deny sexual healthcare for trans men because “men can’t have that issue.” Part of male privilege is having your voice centred, and yet many conversations about abortion and access to birth control actively exclude trans men, because trans men are held personally accountable for the pregnancy, even when it’s rape. Cis men don’t experience anything like that.

And sure! The situations I laid out above don’t describe ALL trans men. But they also don’t describe ALL cis men or ALL cis women. The difference between cis men and trans men is that trans men, along with other gender minorities and cis women, are specifically targeted by oppressive patriarchal systems by virtue of both their trans and male identities.

It breaks my heart to see people tell trans men to ‘take accountability’ for their privilege when I hear all the time about trans men who are in jail for killing the person who was raping them, about trans men who were abused by police, about trans men who were tortured and murdered.

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.

~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~

The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?

Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.

What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.

The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.

Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!

~~~~~~~

Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~

Dick: NoOOoo

~~~~~~

Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.

Danny: Sorry :(

Jason: No. Say it again.

~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.

So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.

He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.

~~~~

Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.

Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.

~~~~~~

Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!

~~~~~~

Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u

[andhumanslovedstories]

There's so many horrible things happening in America right now that it has been interesting to see what individual horrors hurt me personally the most. I grew up going to the Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts. Musicals, plays, concerts, that weird bust of JFK, playing around on terrace during intermissions, putting on a velvet dress that you're going to ruin dropping a milk dud in your lap and not noticing until it's fully melted, wearing the pinchy shiny shoes that are the training bras of women's formal footwear, operas I didn't like but did love, jazz I didn't understand but still fascinated me, red carpet, big stairs, the absolute nightmare amount of experiences I had as a new driver as I repeatedly got trapped in the Kennedy Center's fucking private DC island or whatever the hell is going on traffic-wise, free performances on small side stages, getting to see an enormous production on the Center's most enormous stage, all of which was accessed by walking through that a long, tall hallway lined with flags of the world that made you feel like a dignitary attending the most important even in the world.

And now Trump's taken it over. He fired its board. He appointed one of his loyalists to run it. I want to throw up.

Sometimes I miss DC so much. I love the Pacific Northwest and expect I'll live here for the rest of my life, but this isn't my hometown. I grew up the edge of the District. I've lost cumulative years of my life stuck in traffic on the inner loop and outer loop. Because of the Smithsonian, it used to be so baffling to me that anyone ever had to pay to get into a museum. I've used the Washington DC zoo as a shortcut to a different part of the city because it's free to enter. You couldn't count the amount of knockoff Spider-man popsicles that I've eaten sitting on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial. My reading tastes were molded by Kramer Books in Dupont Circle. I spent afternoons walking around the National Mall, normally just a big empty field until there's an event--book fair, country music program, international cuisine, whatever--at which point for a day or a weekend or a week it becomes a sea of tents and stages. I went to protests outside the Capital and the White House about the war in Iraq. I froze my toes off watching Obama's 2008 presidential inauguration.

It seemed like everyone's family touched the federal government in some way. Everyone's family had moved here because they were military or state department or a political consultant or worked with an NGO or some other reason that meant you had to be here, in the nation's capital. Plenty of people had connections to the federal government that we more hush-hush. Like kids in class straight up going, "I have no idea what my parents do for a living. They're not allowed to tell me." High schoolers regularly, accidentally drove into the CIA parking lot and got escorted out because the premises were that accessible. My family moved here because my dad is a reporter who ended up covering international trade. (Imagine how much his job sucks right now.) He switched beats one summer to cover the White House instead. He got to fly on Air Force One. He got official Air Force One M&Ms. I was SO disappointment my dad didn't work there for Bush to call on him by nickname.

Every day my family got The Washington Post. I read the comics and the kid's page, then the rest of the Style section, then Metro, then news. I learned to read from it. We wrapped our delicate Christmas ornaments with its pages. We used yesterday's papers to clean our windows because they didn't leave streaks. I took journalism in high school. You can't IMAGINE how much and how frequently we talked about Watergate. When Post changed its motto to "Democracy Dies in Darkness" after Trump's election in 2016 that meant something to me. I knew Bezos owned the paper now, but that was still my paper, and the motto spoke to something I fervently believed: if people just knew what was happening, they wouldn't allow it to happen. If you expose a problem, people will naturally agree that it is a problem and that we should do something to fix it. Flash forward to Trump's third fucking campaign, and the newspaper wouldn't endorse a presidential candidate. Chickenshit cowardice. Then they change the motto. "Riveting Storytelling for All of America." Eat shit. You're nothing now.

Politics in America is just telling everyone how much you hate Washington, DC so that they'll elect you so you can move to DC. Well, guys, the city fucking hates you too. Republicans will never give the District actually meaningful political representation because no one in that city would vote for them. It's not just the policies; it's the contempt. No one in the new administration loves the city they schemed and lied and stooped to take over. It's just iconography to them, and all they care about is taking that iconography for themselves. Trump doesn't give a shit about the summer program for the Kennedy Center. He has never seen a show at the Kennedy Center. When he was president, he never attended the annual awards. He's trying to destroy one of the most significant places of my life and I'm genuinely unsure if he has ever stepped for inside of it.

[australianwomensnews]

Teenage girls know a lot more about democracy and what makes it tick than teenage boys, but when it comes to political ambition the boys win hands down.

A global study of 82,000 teenagers from 22 countries showed that almost without exception girls had a greater engagement with and understanding of government, equality, public trust, voting and representation, than their male peers.

But boys were more likely to say they were interested in becoming a politician

“Australian girls are outperforming boys on knowledge, attitudes and values that support a greater competency when it comes to participation in civic life,” said Rachel Parker, from the Australian Council of Educational Research, who worked on the study.

“One of the few areas where boys outperform girls in the study is the intention to be politically active.”

The report, Education for Citizenship in Times of Global Challenge, found that girls were far more knowledgeable about how parliament works, globalisation, independence of statutory authorities and voting and representation.

Girls were also far more likely than boys to support gender equality and equal rights for migrants and cultural groups to access education, employment and political participation.

They were more engaged with big issues such as environmental protection and more likely to participate in civic activities.

However, girls were less likely to report expecting to join a political party or a trade union or stand as a candidate in an election.

The study did not dig into the reasons why, but previous research identified parental influence and societal expectations as feeding gender norms relating to political ambition, as well as widely held perceptions that politics is a man’s world.

Indeed, 40 per cent of boys thought men are better suited to being political leaders than women, while 25 per cent agreed with the statement that women should stay out of politics.

Ella Curran, 18, harboured an ambition to become a politician when she was in Year 9, but a school excursion to Canberra cured her of that notion.

“I started to think more realistically about the sort of lifestyle I wanted for myself. And we did a legal studies excursion to Parliament House and watched question time,” she told AFR Weekend.

“I felt it was so aggressive and personal in the insults that were being thrown about that I just thought it was not the sort of workplace I could feel comfortable in,” said Ms Curran, a first-year arts and philosophy student at the University of Sydney.

“I’m just not prepared to face that kind of abuse or have my appearance or relationship status mocked in public rather than focus on what I am actually doing.”

Ms Curran’s two great passions are climate change and gender equality.

“I’m concerned about climate change, particularly Australia’s response to that because we are one of the worst countries in the world for our emissions,” she said.

Lulu Hamilton, 16, who counts women’s rights and climate change as her two greatest passions, also harboured a fleeting ambition to become a politician when she was younger but abandoned it without any fanfare.

“I thought it was the best platform to make change because if I could have power, I could make my goals become a reality,” Ms Hamilton said.

Having spent the first 12 years of her life in China, seeing democracy in action, including the free exchange of information and ideas, was a head-spinning affair.

“It was such a jarring difference. I never would have spoken to my friends in China about climate change, gender or politics. Even our textbooks had stuff whited out because the Chinese government didn’t want us to read about Tibet and Taiwan. We had very limited access to media.”

As for a future in politics? That’s out of the question.

“I feel the negatives outweigh the positives.”

[arc-misadventures]

Son of a Queen

(Thud!)

: HACCCK! Tuuh!

: Did you really have to do that?

: I'm sorry... But, my mouth is full of blood from getting the shit beaten out of me! Do you have a better place for me to cough up blood other than on your interrogation table, Headmaster Ozpin?

Ozpin: No... no I do not...

: Ozpin, enough with this civility, we need to deal with this traitor!

Ozpin: In due time, James. We need to allow him time to gather his senses. Your Specialists as well as, Qrow's apprehension of him was rather... rough...

: Rough my ass you bastards...

Qrow: To be fair this brat has a large aura supply... we had to be rough with him to bring him into custody.

Ironwood: Well it doesn't matter, he have captured a member of her inner circle.

Ozpin: No, gentleman we caught someone much more than just a member of, Salem's inner circle. We've captured the son of, Salem, Jaune Luna Arc.

Jaune: Tuuh!

Jaune: Really... what makes you say that?

Ozpin: We captured your sister... Cinder Fall. We found evidence of her direct involvement with, Salem after we accessed her scroll. And, while we were looking though her scroll we also found you in her contact information, along with information on your relationship with, Ms. Fall.

Ironwood: So tell us... What precisely is your relationship with, Salem, and Cinder Fall... Son of Salem...

Jaune: ...

Qrow: Wait?! He's, Salem son?!

Ironwood: Yes he is, and you would have known that if you weren't busy getting drunk again!

Qrow: Hey, I was in pain! This kid throws a mean right hook!

Jaune: Hehe...

Ozpin: Regardless, tell us about your relationship with your mother, your sister, and her plans.

Ironwood: Or, else...

Jaune: Or, else what? Bring forth the wrath of the, Grimm upon all of, Vale, and Atlas. You should know, Ozma that after what happened last time, Salem is very protective of her kids... Very protective. So if you do anything to me, or my sister, Cinder. Then I will assure you, that by the time my mother, Salem is done with her rampage! That there will be nothing left for you to protect!

Qrow: Ozma...?

Ironwood: So, Cinder Fall is your sister?

Ozpin: I see she told you much me, she says she would burn me to ash if I so much as touched a single hair upon your golden head.

Jaune: You best listen to her, my sister is almost as vengeful as my mother.

Ozpin: Very well then... Tell me, who is your father, Salem's husband? I am curious to hear who was mad enough to marry that woman.

Jaune: He didn't. My father was, Acheius Arc, and my mother was, Juniper Arc.

Ironwood: Was? Salem's not your real mother, she adopted with you?

Jaune: Yes. My home town was attacked by a swarm of, Grimm, Salem showed up after the attack, and found my dying mother who begged her to look after me. Salem agreed, and she raised me as her own.

Ironwood: So, your adopted mother murdered your parents, and you just accepted that!

Jaune: I was only a child, I know not who my mother, or my father was. So I always saw, Salem as my mother. And, when I was older, and I asked her who my father was, she told me who my real parents were, and how they died. After her story she asked for my forgiveness, and I accepted it. Salem may control the, Grimm, but she doesn't send them out into the wild to kill people. You know full well, and who, or what their true master is, Ozma...

Ozpin: I see...

Ironwood: Tell me, what were you doing here. Why were you, and Cinder Fall doing here at, Beacon Academy?

Jaune: Well, I was training to be a huntsman, and as for my sister. She was just watching over me.

Ozpin: You just came here to become a huntsman? Bullshit.

Jaune: It's always been a childhood dream of mine to become a huntsman. Mom accepted this idea, wanting me to be who I want to be. So, that's why I'm here. Not to spy on you, any of you. I don't care for... whatever you're doing.

Ozpin: I see...

Qrow: I still call bullshit...

Ozpin: And, as for why your sister, Cinder Fall is here?

Jaune: Sis is a brocon... a massive brocon. Wherever I go she inevitable follows. Its as simple as that.

OQI: ...

Ironwood: Considering how she acted when we arrested her... I'm incline to believe him...

Jaune: Tell me, how did you two find us. You said you found us through my sister, so what did she do to earn your attention?

Ozpin: She hacked into our systems to try to make sure you two were partnered up. We've been keeping an eye on her ever since.

Jaune: Bloody brocon...

Qrow: How is she your sister; Did someone actually have the balls to sleep with that thing?

Jaune: Cinder was an abused orphan, she ran away from 'home.'

Ozpin: And, her... affection...

Jaune: Obsession...

Ozpin: Your sister's obsession with you; where does this stem from.

Jaune: Genuine familial love, and brotherly affection... Simple as that. Something I doubt any of you could ever understand.

OQI: ...

Qrow: Go fuck yourself kid...

Jaune: Hehehe...

Ozpin: So, you are the adopted son of a monster, Salem.

Qrow: And, you're the... little brother of that brocon.

Jaune: And, your point...?

Qrow: The hell is wrong with you? Having that bitch as your mother!

Jaune: Watch your mouth you whoreson! You live alone for thousands of years, only to have the love of your life come back, and betray you!

Ozpin: So, you do love that monster?

Jaune: Do I love her?!

~~~

Salem: Mmmmmhhh~!

Jaune: Fuck! Salem you're so tight!

Salem: It's been ages since I lasted bedded a man~! Time has tightened me up~!

Jaune: No, you were always this tight! Ozma was just a limp dick fuck!

Salem: It's not a fair comparison om the slightest~! Mmm~! So deep~! It's like comparing a shrimp to a thorough bred stallion~!

Jaune: 'Bred,' huh?

Salem: Jaune? What is... Fuuuck~! You're so deep~! What is it, Jaune~?

Jaune: This may have been my sixteen birthday present, but this isn't the last time we're doing this.

Salem: Hell no we aren't~!

Jaune: Well, Salem we're going this a lot! Want to know why? Fuck your insides are so warm!

Salem: Ahh~! Why? Mhhh, right there, Jauney~! Keep pounding me~!

Jaune: You had four with that man, let's try for six~!

Salem: I've lost track of...?! Ohhhh~! How.. how many times you've made me cum... You've certainly done better than him~!

Jaune: Wrong tally, my Queen~!

Salem: ...?

Salem: Oh.

Salem Ohh~!

Salem: Well, let's get started then shall we~?

Jaune: Lets~!

~~~

Jaune: She's the woman who saved my life! The woman who raised me from a child! Unlike you, you bastard, Salem can actually show love to her family, and her children unlike you, you murder!

Ozpin: I am not a murderer.

Jaune: You, and Salem are to blame for the death of your children. And, unlike you she does not believe she was blameless.

Ozpin: ...

Qrow: So, to get back at, Ozpin she adopted you, and that flaming bitch?

Jaune: My sister is protective of me, something that you couldn't possibly understand with your sister.

Qrow: Well, what about her being a brocon! How do you defend that you bastard!

~~~

Cinder: Please, Jaune?

Jaune: No.

Cinder: Come on, it'll be fun~1

Jaune: Finals are coming up, we need to study for them, Cin.

Cinder: But, we all need a chance to unwind~!

Jaune: We can unwind after finals.

Cinder: But, I don't want to wait that long little brother~!

Jaune: No.

Cinder: But... But, what if we invite some other people to join us?

Jaune: Other... people...?

Cinder: Yeah~! My partner, Neo has been giving you the look~! And, I know you partner, Pyrrha is also giving you the looks~! So, what do you say~? Why don't the four of get together, and have some fun~?

Jaune: ...

Jaune: Okay...

Cinder: YES!

Jaune: After finals are finished.

Cinder: FUCK!

Blake: Hey, quiet. This is the library.

Cinder: Hey, Blake we're going to have a foursome, want to join us, and make it a fivesome~?

Blake: ...

Blake: Yes...

Cinder: See, Jaune! Four people want top have an orgy with you! Let's do it!

Jaune: Haa... gods dammit...

~~~

Jaune: So, what my sister is a brocon. Everyone in, Beacon knows she is.

Ironwood: Do they now?

Ozpin: Yes they do. The amount of complaints we have received because of her is quite... substantial...

Qrow: Good gods...

Ozpin: Well it matters not, we have captured, Salem's children, and we will prevent them from doing anything that threatens the stability of, Vale.

Ironwood: I will prepare a prison transport to take these two away immediately. I will ensure that they will be locked away in a place forever.

Qrow: Well, looks like you will will never be seeing your sister again.

Jaune: It may be true you have me, and my older sister, but you haven't found my eldest sister.

Ozpin: Eldest sister?

"Boom!"

"SMASH!"

Jaune: "Cough cough!"

Jaune: Damn. You blew the door right off it's hinges right on top of them. Talk about a brutal takedown,

: It was. They attacked, and arrested my little brother. Those bastards deserved it.

Jaune: Really, cause it felt a little personal.

: You deal with their bullshit for years; Ozpin's delusional paranoia, Ironwood's rigid stick up the ass attitude, and Qrow's drunkenness, and tell me you don't want to beat the fuck out of them.

Jaune: Fair enough. Do you think they're dead?

: Maybe, Ironwood is more machine then man, so they could make him more of a cyborg now. Ozpin can just reincarnate so fuck him. And as for, Qrow... well, its his lucky day~!

Jaune: Low blow sis, low blow. So, should I take this as you cutting your ties with, Beacon, and Vale?

: I am.

Jaune: I thought you liked it here.

: I do, but I love my family more. Now come on, let's go break out the brocon pyromaniac.

Jaune: Alright, but before we go; Thanks for rescuing me, Glynda.

Glynda: Of course, Jaune. Anything for my little brother~!

Jaune: Alright, but I owe you one, Sis.

Glynda: In that case I know a way you can pay me back.

Jaune: Oh?

Glynda: Mom may get the first one, but I'm getting the second one~!

Jaune: The second...? Oh... Yeah... Yeah, I can do that~!

Glynda: Wonderful~!

[onyourmarkks]

check up (L.Jeno)

pairing: jeno x fem! reader

synopsis: reader has her first time at the gynecologist..jeno just happens to be her doctor who takes advantage.

genre: smut | MINORS DNI plz

warnings: sex, advantage taking??? eating out.

It was your first time at a gynecologist, you were nervous obviously, you’ve seen videos of the tools they use that look like they can split you into two, it was nerve wracking, you sat in the office, waiting to be called. your leg bounced in anticipation, feeling strange in this setting and situation.

Once your name was called you were lead to the room, and instructed to remove your lower half clothing, “dr. lee will be in, in just a minute” the nurse said in a deadpan tone to you.

you removed your lower half and sat on the chair, looking at the stirrups, wondering if your legs can even go that high.

you were silently panicking, when the door opened.. revealing a doctor… a male…doctor, this only made you freak out even more, i thought only women could get this job? you thought to yourself, “hi, you must be, y/n…dr lee” he said extending his hand for you to shake it, he spoke your name dragged out, almost as if he was testing it out.

“hi nice to meet you” you said shaking his hand, feeling it calloused almost, ‘probably from med school’ you thought to yourself. “first time here?” he asked noticing your nervous exterior, helping your legs into the stirrups, “yeah” you said breathily, letting him help you. jeno internally exploded into confetti, grinning to himself, “don’t worry..” he said lifting your gown up, exposing your cunt to him.

“looks.. fantastic” he said brushing his thumb against your clit, making you jump, “sorry i’m so sorry” you say apologizing because you felt embarrassed “no need to worry… tell me..y/n.. have you ever had intercourse before?” jeno asked spreading your folds, tempted to insert a finger into your begging hole.

“n-no, never” you answer, trying your best not to moan or make any type of sexual sounds, “i see, i see, does this feel okay?” he tempts, inserting his index finger into you, you gasp, not sure if this is apart of the exam “is..is this apart of the exam?” you breathe out, fighting back a moan. “of course, why wouldn’t it be? i’m being professional, ms y/n” he says smirking to himself as he responds to you.

“o-oh.. okay.. i’m sorry” you respond feeling embarrassed that you questioned his professionalism, “no problem, now tell me how…this feels” he says inserting another finger, giggling to himself “oh my god” you say slapping your hand on your mouth to avoid humiliating yourself “good…so good” you mumble the last part he hums as he shoves his finger back and forth.

at one point, he attaches his mouth to your cunt, and that’s when you realize this isn’t apart of your check up, but he was hot. “fuck..” you say gripping his hair as he flicks your clit with his tongue.

“this is gonna be our last test..” he says standing up, unbuttoning his pants, his white coat maximizing his huge frame, “doing okay, miss y/n?” he asks, awaiting for your approval, you nod, looking up at him, he grins as he pulls out his hardened cock, “such a oblivious slut huh?” he says rubbing his cock against your folds gathering up your wetness, you could only whine against his touches. “come on pretty…cat got your tongue?” he asks, with an eye smile, tapping your cheeks “n-no, sorry” you reply opening your mouth to speak more.

jeno inserts his thick cock head into your entrance, making you almost scream he was internally thanking the lord for you to be his last patent and his nurses went home after they brought you in.

“such a…tight pussy..” he says as the thrusts into you at a steady pace, making you slide back and forth on the table, the paper crumbling beneath you.

you sat up on your elbows to look at him, whimpering and whining “more..” you say hoarsely, jeno grins and obliges and moves your legs to an angle where he can access you deeper.

you feel him hit you deeper, your cunt swallowing and sucking him so well, “so good, dr lee..” you gasp and cover your mouth, your hand reaching to touch his v-line, “such a good pussy…you like getting fucked like this? by your doctor? you’re such a whore..letting anyone fuck you” he grunts out through his thrusts, his degrading only making you wetter.

“dr lee…” you whine as you feel something unfamiliar in your stomach, almost as if you have to pee? “i have to pee dr lee.. please” you moan as he chuckles at your words, “pee? silly girl. you’re gonna cum” he says rubbing your clit with his thumb, you thrash around on the table as you cum, feeling yourself explode.

“shit shit” jeno says as he shoots his thick load into you, giving you one full push to make sure his cum is buried, “your exam is complete, miss y/n. you’re healthy..very healthy” he says grinning pulling out of you and zipping his pants up.

“should we schedule our next meeting?” he says washing his hands at the sink, looking at you through the mirror “yeah..” you breathe out, absolutely fanned out, “i’ll see you” he says slipping a piece of paper next to you, and he exits the room, bidding you well.

the paper read

‘need to see that pussy again.. call me

-jeno’

with his number attached

——-

man i love jeno… thanks for 100 followers! love u

[sturn-saturn]

just this once

pairing; fem!reader x bf!matt

warnings: cooch eating <3

a/n: im LITERALLY writing this as im in class LMAOO sorry if it sucks. writing a fanfic in class is crazy.

one thing you and the triplets knew was school fucking sucked. it sucked absolute balls. your dream since you were younger was to be in the medical field and here you are. you're currently in med school majoring in nursing but thankfully this biology course is offered online.

you woke up this morning absolutely exhausted but this class was only 90 minutes so you weren't complaining too much. you were just hoping this would be the quickest 90 minutes of your life.

matt wakes up pretty early as well but his brothers on the other hand love sleeping in. matt usually stayed in the living room while you're in your virtual class. matt lets you use his desk, which gives you the space to focus and just get through the class.

you're currently on the call and you were just exhausted, dozing off, staring off, picking at your cuticles, twirling your hair, you name it. your elbow was on the desk and your head was leaning on your hand until you hear a creak.

you turn to your right and you see your boyfriend peeking through the door. you give him a deadpan look because he knows how easily distracted you are especially when he's around.

luckily your professor doesn't mind if your camera is off as long as you're participating in class. "matt, what are you doing?"

"i'm bored, hungry, and theres nothing on netflix." he explains walking further into his room.

"babe, you know i have a class."

"i know, i know." he whispers walking to you and kissing your head. "are you almost done? i'm hungry."

"god we really need to get you and your brothers into a cooking class."

"honey, i know how to cook. i just choose not to cause i love when you cook, you put so much love into it."

"oh you know how to cook, huh? that salmon you tried to cook the other day says otherwise." you laugh. "i'll be done soon don't worry."

"but i'm hungry now." he whines. "you know what, fuck it."

matt pulls the desk chair away from his desk and sneaks under so hes on his knees facing you.

"m-matt. what are you doing i'm in class!" you yell.

"cameras off, i'm hungry, i'm taking advantage of this." he smirks looking up at you. “you need to keep quiet, sweetheart. can you do that for me?”

“yes.” you breathe out. matt begins to pull your panties down and kisses your inner thigh softly while holding eye contact.

your professor was talking at this point and the only thing you heard come out of his mouth was living organisms. “ms. y/l/n could you explain further?”

“fuck” you mouth looking at matt.

he pulls away from between you and gives you a smirk. “well ms. y/l/n? explain further.”

you unmute the zoom call and do everything you can to refrain from moaning. “a living organism is anything that has life and consists of cells as its basic unit of organization like t-trees, animals, algae, b-bacteria, as well as humans of course.”

“correct, thank you ms.y/l/n.” your professor announces.

you go back on mute and you look down at matt and spread your legs wider to give him access. he taps your legs so you can put your feet on the arms of his chair.

“you’re such a good girl.” matt whispers.

“mmmm” you hum

“and…you…taste…so…good.” he says in between kisses to your clit.

“matt, quit teasing.”

“say please.” with a deadpan look.

“matt, please quit teasing.”

with that, be inserts a finger and your head falls back into the chair. he trusts in and out until you’re a mess. “what you didn’t realize was you and your professor were the only ones left in the call.

“y/n, are there any questions you had for today?” you professor asks.

you almost jump out of your seat when you heard your name from the screen in front of you.

you quickly unmute yourself, “no, professor, great lecture today, looking forward to next week!” you ramble on before you end the call.

“fuck i’m looking forward to getting inside you. get on the bed, sweetheart.” you boyfriend says with a husky voice.

tag list:

@sturniolos4life16 @hoeforchrizz @luckyscharms @emely9274 @chrispotatos @weirdratperson @simpson12 @ilovemenwithlonghairr @angeldvstee @pussypie456 @valentinasturniolo @khalei-20 @cravingchrissturniolo @wonnieeluvvr @flouvela @zay-sturns

[sexinahandbag]

Grief Is A B*tch

Pairing: Jason Todd x Amazon!Reader

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, alcohol use, language, violence, fluff, angst (if you squint really, really, really hard), Dick and Reader flirt like once or twice, jealous!Jason, Jason and Dick are twenty one, reader is twenty, does not follow canon except for a few things it’s my own little universe, everyone lives in Wayne Manor, SMUT (pinv, oral (m & f receiving), face sitting, riding, family restroom sex)

Summary: Ten years ago your mother, Diana, sent you to train with her friend Bruce Wayne Batman and his "Bat-family." For eight years, that's exactly what you did; you trained with Dick, Jason, and Stephanie, you hung out with them, you went to school with them, basically you did everything with the Bat-fam. After the death of someone incredibly close to you, you decided to leave Gotham and give up the mantle of Alectrona. Now, two years later, you've returned and this time you're ready to be a hero, at least you think so.

a/n: guys i have an alternate ending to this PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT IT

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You huffed as you lugged your suitcase in one hand up the stairs and your one hundred twenty pound Bullmastiff, Brutus, practically pulled you in the other hand. Of course you could easily tame the situation with your super strength, but you’re trying to live like a human. That’s what the last two years have been about: trying to live like a human, giving up the secret identity, putting yourself first for the first time. You pushed open the door to the Wayne Manor, surprised at how easy it was to get in.

“Hello!” You called out, kicking the front door closed behind you. “Your favorite half-Amazon is back!”

You listened carefully for any movement, closing your eyes to really gauge your surroundings, just like how Bruce taught you. You opened one eye when you heard footsteps running from across the house. Two, two sets of footsteps, possibly children. You crossed your arms as the running got closer, waiting for the “attack.” Two boys appeared before you one clearly a child, possibly six to seven, the other an adolescent, possibly twelve to fifteen.

“Halt!” Said the little one, sticking his hand out to stop you from moving farther. “What brings you here? How did you get past our defenses?”

“What? Defenses? There were no outside defenses.” You answered, confusion washing over your face.

“Damian, where’s Titus?” The older one asked, running his hand over his face.

“I told him to guard the door like you asked.” Damian explained.

“Okay, where’s the adults? Where’s Alfred?” You sighed, looking around the foyer.

“Perhaps your monster ate Titus.” Damian claimed, pointing at Brutus.

“How dare you?” You gasped, clutching your chest with your hand. “My Brutus would never- Nope, not getting caught up in this. I’m going to go find Alfred.”

You left your suitcase in the middle of the foyer and walked to the study with Brutus where you knew you could get entrance to the Batcave. You felt the two boys push past you to prevent you from going any further.

“You may not go any farther.” Damian said, crossing his arms to stand his ground.

“If I know how to access the cave, did it maybe cross your mind that I’m important enough to come down here?”

“That is a valid argument.” The older one pointed out.

“Okay, you take this. I need to get to Alfred.” You said, handing Brutus’ leash to the older boy. “And be careful he probably weighs the same as you.”

Before the boys could protest, you sped out of the tunnel and into the cave where you finally found your old friends.

“You know if your new defense system is two annoying little boys, it works great.” You smiled.

“Ms. Prince, we were unaware of your arrival.” Alfred said, surprised as he walked towards you.

“Well, that’s the point of a surprise, no? And before you ask what I’m doing here, I decided it was time for me to come home. Decided I spent plenty of time away trying to figure out who I am, when I realized it was right in front of me the whole time.”

“Congratulations, Ms. Prince. Welcome home.” Alfred smiled before walking past you, towards the tunnel you had just exited from.

You looked around the cave, noting the slight differences. When your eyes landed on him, though, your smile faltered, your gaze hardened a little. You sped in front of him, your hand hesitating to ghost over his face. You took a second before your smile came back and it was like you came back to your senses.

“y/n…”

“I’m sorry, why is there a super clone of my ex-boyfriend, here?” Your eyes wandered over the clone’s body, it had Jason’s face, but as if Jason had been alive the last two years, his face was more mature than the last time you saw it. But the clone didn’t have his body, or his beautiful brown eyes. Instead, he was big, like really big and his eyes were green now. Still gorgeous, but not the brown ones you had fallen in love with. You watched as the soft gaze on the clone got impossibly softer, and somewhat sad.

“Y/n…” Dick said softly, turning towards you.

“I-I’m not a clone. It’s me.” Jason stuttered out, not sure how to deal with this. He was the one that decided it was best not to reach out to you. One night he decided to pay you a visit and by visit he means, he looked into your apartment bedroom from the fire escape and watched you sleep for thirty minutes before you started moving too much for his liking. But, when he saw how peaceful you looked, how you started building your new life, he decided it was just best to let you go. When Jason told you that it was him, your head hung low, and your eyes remained trained to the floor of the cave. You were trying your best not to cry.

“Okay, I’m sorry, I didn’t tell anyone that I was coming home, and I’m not even sure how you found out I was on my way back here. But, this isn’t a funny joke, Dick.” You said quietly, assuming Dick had somehow found out you were on your way back, and had a Jason robot built or a clone made to scare you.

“I wouldn’t—Y/n, I would never do something like that to you.” Dick tried to reach out to you, but you pulled away. Tears were invading your sight as you battled with the thought that the love of your life was possibly alive. If he was alive though, then you felt that meant the last two years could have been completely meaningless.

“He isn’t a clone, it’s Jason.” Bruce said, stepping out from the tunnel you had just gone through. “We would’ve told you sooner, but we thought that it would’ve been better if we just never said anything about the situation to you.”

Your eyes never left the ground as you listened to the people you trusted most, explain to you about how they lied to you about the most precious thing in your life.

“No.” You said softly, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. “Jason is dead. He’s not coming back. I know you guys want to believe that, that is Jason, but I-I…I watched Jason get…beat to a pulp by the Joker, before being forced to leave by Batman.”

The words that you had practiced time over time in your therapist’s office came out of you like the voice wasn’t your own, it was robotic almost. You added a few words for the context of the situation, but other than that, it was almost exact.

“You’re half god and you think resurrection isn’t possible?” Dick asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

“She’s in denial. She’s gone through a lot the last two years dealing with the death of Jason.” Bruce said, crossing his arms while he leaned against the wall, like he was waiting to see how things would play out.

“Which is why I didn’t want anyone to tell you. I saw how good you were finally doing and I didn’t want to ruin anything.” Jason explained.

Your head snapped up as Jason’s words settled in your brain. The tears that once clouded your vision were now dried against your cheeks. If someone looked into your eyes, they wouldn’t see sadness anymore, but anger and maybe disappointment.

“You saw? You came to see me and you didn’t even have the audacity to knock on the damn door?” You were practically shouting at this point. Your fists were clenched at your side and you were seething. Not only did the people you consider family keep the fact your dead boyfriend was alive, a secret from you, but your once-dead-but-now-alive boyfriend saw you, looked into your windows, and didn’t say anything to you. You felt like you were on the world’s worst emotional rollercoaster right now. Your breathing started to quicken as you listened to the boys attempt to explain things to you, all shouting at you at once. You were being pushed to your limits, and sometimes, like now, when you were pushed to your limits, you lost control. As soon as you started talking, you were floating off the ground. “You know Bruce, I was in denial because I couldn’t comprehend the idea that Jason, my Jason, would suddenly come back to life and not even bother to send a fucking text. I couldn’t come to terms with the fact that yo-you wouldn’t even knock on my door or -or send me flowers on Valentine’s Day. I would be more understanding if Bruce told you, you couldn’t see me. But, he didn’t! You made up the decision on your own! You’re a coward, Jason. My Jason wasn’t a coward.”

At this point you were about two feet off the ground. You let out a frustrated groan once you realized you had let your emotions get the better of you for the first time in two years. You put yourself back on the ground and turned on your heel, practically stomping back into the tunnel you came out of.

“We’re so sorry, we didn’t realize who you were at first. If we knew you were y/n—If we knew you were Alectrona we wouldn’t have tried to stop you.” The older boy from earlier explained rapidly. “I’m Tim by the way and this-this is Damian. I also still have your dog so-”

“Give me my damn dog.” You said, accidentally taking the leash a little harder than you intended

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You stood in your room unpacking your suitcase that Alfred had brought up for you. Brutus laid on the bed, taking an undeserving nap as you sped back and forth between your closet and your suitcase. You stopped in your closet and glanced over at your old school uniform, gazing at it fondly, memories of when life was easier flooding your brain. But, suddenly you heard a floor board creak and you quickly dropped your uniform. You grabbed your knife from the inside of your fur coat and stepped out from your closet, throwing it just past the person’s ear as a warning.

“Seriously?” Dick said, ducking slightly. “I knew you were mad, but I didn’t think you were that mad.”

“What do you want, Dick?” You muttered, walking over to your suitcase to zip it up

“How long are you home for?” Dick asked, looking over you for a second before he walked over to your knife and pulled it out of the wall.

“Until I leave again.” You shrugged, crossing your arms.

“That’s not a very solid timeline.” Dick chuckled, walking closer to you.

“I’m back for the foreseeable future. Is that a better timeline?”

“Loving the attitude. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“That was a one time thing.” You said through gritted teeth, pointing your finger at Dick.

“Hey, you know you liked it, I know I liked it.” Dick smirked, holding his hands up. “Why don’t we make the sequel babe?”

“Stop. Being. Gross.” You muttered, punctuating each word with a slap to Dick’s arm.

“Okay, okay.” Dick groaned, rubbing his arm. “I came here to apologize. So, I’m sorry, If I knew you were coming back to Gotham I would’ve told you that Jason was alive, but you didn’t so I couldn’t prepare you for what you would see.”

“Don’t you dare try flipping this on me, Richard John Grayson.” You accused, making Dick cringe at the use of his full name.

“I—Okay, I’m sorry. I should have told you that Jason was back I knew what it would mean to you. I should’ve given you the decision of whether or not you wanted to see him. It wasn’t my place to take that from you. You’re my best friend, and I’m sorry.”

“Why…Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was being a good brother. He asked me not to tell you, I honored his wishes.”

“How many times did you come see me and you knew Jason was alive?”

“Two or three…”

“Which one is it, Dick? Two or three?”

“Four.” Dick squeaked out, cringing slightly, afraid that you would hit him again. You sighed deeply, turning towards Dick fully.

“y/n…”

“I will accept your apology, but there’s been strain in our trust and friendship, Dick.”

“So, I guess now’s a good time as ever to tell you, I’m putting you on patrol with Jason tomorrow, which means you also have training with him tomorrow.” Dick muttered. You squeezed your eyes shut and let your head fall back as you listened to him. “Look, you decided to come back and that’s great, but we need to ease you back into it and I figured who better than Jason? He’s someone you’re comfortable with, someone you know.”

“Someone I know?” You chuckled dryly. “Fine, whatever, that’s…that is fine.”

“It is nice to see you back in Gotham. You look good, gorgeous, some would say you’re practically glowing.” Dick smiled. “I see you’ve gotten a few new ear piercings since the last time I saw you. Wanna tell me about any other piercings you might have gotten?”

“Pleasantries aren’t going to get you anywhere, Dickie.”

“What about dinner then?”

“It could possibly be a start.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You groaned as you heard the rapid knocking on your bedroom door, pulling you from the few hours of sleep you had grown accustomed to, causing Brutus to bark at whoever was on the other side.

“Down.” You muttered to him as you walked through your room, causing Brutus to lay back down in his dog bed. You glared as you opened the door, the light from the hallway being a little much. Jason gulped when you opened the door. Your hair was a mess, your eyes were puffy, and you were wearing a shirt that was far too big to be yours, he recognized it as one of his. You may have looked like a mess, but Jason didn’t think so. It reminded him of mornings spent in bed when he could sneak into your room without getting caught by Alfred. It reminded him of when times were good, when there was color in his life.

“What?” You groaned out, leaning between the door and the doorframe.

“We have training.” Jason said rather quickly, keeping his arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Since when was training at four in the morning? What happened to three o’clock in the afternoon, when people are properly awake.”

“It’s a long story.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you until I hear an apology anyways.” You smiled lazily, keeping your eyes shut to remain as tired as possible.

“You know I’ve never been one for verbal apologies with you.” Jason smirked.

“y/n…”

“Well, it’s a great day to start learning.” You said before moving to close the door. But, before the door closed, Jason held it open. You cocked an eyebrow as you looked up at him. “You know I can close this door and crush your fingers with it, right?”

“Great, you can also crush my fingers during training.”

“If you think I’m joking about not going anywhere with you, then you must’ve forgotten how stubborn I am. Either that or it’s not really you like I said from the start.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll apologize.” Jason started, letting go of the door. You straightened your shoulders and let go of your own grip on the door, showing you were willing to listen. “I don’t have anything prepared, everything’s off the cuff, so bear with me.”

You watched as Jason took a second to collect himself before speaking, making you cock an eyebrow at him.

“You were right, I am a coward. I convinced myself I was just protecting your peace, pushing you forward and not holding you back. But, the truth is, I wasn’t doing it to protect your peace, I didn’t see you because I figured you wouldn’t want to see me. I was scared of what you would think of me. I was scared that you would say that you didn’t need me anymore. So, yes, I was a coward and I’m sorry. You don’t deserve a coward, you deserve better than that.”

“I woul-” You started, before taking a second and taking a deep breath. “This is why I am so upset you didn’t come to me. I would never tell you I don’t need you. Even if we weren’t together, you would still be someone I’d need in my life. You’re someone I’ll always need in my life, you’re one of my best friends, Jason. When you died, I couldn’t do anything. I couldn’t get out of bed, I couldn’t train, I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t eat. All I could do was cry. The only time I had a moment of peace is when I would get those wonderful two to three hours of sleep every night. It was the only time I could see you again. And then, I would wake up and for a few minutes I would forget, and then I would open my eyes and everything came flashing back. How I couldn’t help you, how I had to leave you there. It took me months and constant visits from Bruce and Dick to actually get out of bed, to have the energy to leave your fucking room. To get out and never…never go back. Yes, you coming back probably would’ve disturbed my peace, but that was something I prayed for every night. I prayed that I would get just a couple minutes with you again, just to talk, just to feel you again. And when I finally, finally, accepted that you were gone forever and I was sort of okay with that, here you are, acting like it’s just another Tuesday. You didn’t even give me some sort of sign. A sign—gods, I prayed for a sign from you.”

“If I knew how badly you were hurting, I would’ve rushed to save you, in a second. But, Bruce made it seem like you were doing great. He told me you started a whole new life. He told me you had a great apartment and you were going to Yale. I mean, Yale, why-why would I want to be part of the reason why you stopped going to Yale?”

“I could go back to Yale, I couldn’t get you back.”

You sighed and dropped your head, you had been moving your arms dramatically at this point while trying to get your point across.

“Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll be ready.” You muttered, going to walk back into your room, but Jason stopped the door again.

“No way, sweetheart.” He chuckled. “You think I trust your ability to not crawl back in bed?”

“So, what, are you gonna watch me change like a creep?” You asked, crossing your arms.

“Nothing I haven’t seen before.” Jason smirked and you took a second and nodded, muttering ‘nothing you haven’t seen before’, before opening the door just a little bit further to let Jason in. Jason shut the door behind him as you walked into your bathroom to wash your face. You listened intently as Jason spoke to Brutus with a baby voice.

“You know I don’t need a babysitter, right?” You said from your spot in the bathroom, your mouth full of toothpaste, as you brushed your teeth, after washing your face.

“Do you remember how often you tried to get out of training when we were kids?” Jason asked leaning his forearms against the bathroom doorframe, while his hands hung loosely in the air.

“Of course, some of my greatest excuses were formulated in this room.” You replied after spitting.

“That’s why you need a babysitter.” Jason laughed.

“I do not need a babysitter.” You protested, smacking Jason in the arm with the closest hand towel you could grab. The gears started turning in your head and you realized just how you could get out of training. You moved closer to Jason, but his stance never faltered, he remained leaning against the doorway. Your hands found purchase on Jason’s waist just underneath the compression shirt he was wearing, as you looked up at him through your lashes, a pout forming on your face. “Come on Jay, don’t you just want to stay in bed? We have so much to catch up on.”

Before you could move your hands any farther, Jason pushed your arms away. “No, you can’t use that little charm magic power you have.” Jason said, crossing his arms, the most serious look settled on his face.

Confusion washed over your features and your eyes wandered around the room as you tried to find an answer to your question.

“Wha-What are you talking about?” You asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You know that fucking thing you do with your voice and face when you want something. It’s like you put on a magic charm or something.” Jason explained. When the realization of what he was saying sunk in, you laughed so hard tears started to form in the corner of your eyes.

“That’s not one of my powers. I use something called manipulation. I know what you like and I use that to my advantage-”

“I know what manipulation is.” Jason cut you off, using a matter-of-tone voice. “You are now, officially, ten percent less cool than I thought you were before.”

“Wow, so what, you think I’m like ninety percent cool now?”

“No, more like seventy five.” Jason shrugged.

“So, you thought I was only eighty five percent cool before.”

“Yeah.” Jason said flatly.

“Wow, that’s…that’s, like, harsh, almost.” You joked, clutching your chest. You closed your eyes, allowing the tears to collect at your waterline before opening your eyes again. “That’s like really mean, Jay. I always thought you were a hundred percent cool.” You cried.

“Shit, please don’t cry—Wait a second, stop trying to manipulate me!”

Your face dropped and you wiped the tears off your face.

“Damn, you’re good at picking up on that.” You muttered, as you pushed past Jason to walk to your closet. Jason tried his hardest not to peer into your closet, keeping his eyes focused on anywhere else in the room. You walked out wearing a black Lululemon sports bra and the matching leggings, hopping around as you pulled on your running shoes.

“Tie this for me, please.” You said, pulling your left foot up onto Jason’s thigh, as you bent over and tied your other shoe; Dick wasn’t the only gymnast, you had been in gymnastics from the ages of four until you were eighteen. Jason sighed and started tying your shoe, like you asked.

You and Jason made the walk to the cave in a somewhat comfortable silence. Jason knew you weren’t fully awake until about two hours after you woke up, so he wasn’t gonna push you to talk. And you had way too many questions circling in your head, that you were uncertain of what you wanted to ask.

“They want me to run a marathon.” Jason said once you reached the training room in the cave. “And they want you to run as long as I do.”

“And by run, I’m assuming, they mean run.” You sighed, tilting your head back slightly. Memories of being pushed to your limit while using your powers flooded your brain.

“Yeah.” Jason muttered, looking at his hands. He had first hand experience in just how much harder you were pushed than everyone else. He knew how much you hated it.

“Do they even have a treadmill that goes six thousand miles per hour for almost three hours anymore?”

“You mean like the one you used to have when we were kids? Like that one right there?” Jason pointed to the treadmill in front of him and you groaned at the familiar sight of it. In high school and middle school, Bruce would make you run at your top speed for hours on end. He would always make you stop right before you passed out, but he would push you to that limit nonetheless. You sighed as you climbed onto your treadmill, pressing the big red start button. Your treadmill went as fast as you did, so you wouldn’t have to go so fast from the start, you could build your way up to six thousand miles per hour. You closed your eyes and focused on the music playing through your headphones as you built up speed.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You stepped off the treadmill a short three and a half hours later, panting a little from using your powers for so long.

“You good?” Jason asked, panting hard.

“Better than you.” You joked, straightening up once you started to feel better.

“Ready to spar?”

“Don’t you need like, fifteen minutes?”

“I’m fine.” Jason huffed, in that tone of voice you knew not to fight with. You shot him one last look before heading over to the sparring ring.

You wrapped your hands up, not for your comfort, but for Jason’s. You knew when you hit, it hurt, and you would do anything, especially when it comes to training with another person, to ensure their safety.

After a few rounds of back and forth between you and Jason, you finally let him pin you to the mats. The last time Jason had you pinned like this, it was not nearly as innocent as this sparring session had been. You could easily break out of his pin if you wanted to, but you hadn’t been this close to Jason in years, and you wanted it to last just a little longer. Hell, you wanted it to last as long as it could, because you didn’t know when you would be this close to him again. You still were trying to figure out if this was some sick lucid dream or not. But, you would take the moments where you could get them.

“Stop holding back.” Jason groaned, his grip on your wrists tightening.

“I’m not holding back.” You said, as you pretended to struggle against him.

“Come on, baby, you know you have fifty four ways to get out of this.” Jason teased, smirking down at you. He adjusted his position slightly, grinding his hips against yours in the process on accident. “Shit, I-”

You cut Jason off by bucking your hips up against his and pushing him to the side with your hips. You moved to straddle him before swinging your right leg around his left arm, twisting around quickly so you were laying on the ground next to him, with his arm trapped between your twisting legs, while your arms pulled up on his arm.

“You’re right, baby, I do have fifty four ways of getting out of that. You’re lucky I went with the least painful option.” You teased back, pulling his arm up further to inflict more pain. Jason attempted to move his arm up with you on it, but found it quite hard.

“Alright, alright, you win.” Jason sighed, tossing his head back against the mats. You removed yourself from Jason’s arm with a smug look on your face, before standing up and offering your hand to Jason to help him up. You watched as Jason eyed you suspiciously.

“I’m not gonna drop you. I’m not you.” You protested, rolling your eyes. As soon as your eyes hit the back of your head, you felt Jason grab your hand. You quickly helped him up, despite the sickening feeling in your stomach, which felt wildly similar to nerves.

“I’ll see you tonight.” Jason said quickly before turning and walking out of the cave.

You muttered a quiet ‘what?’ to yourself in confusion, while looking around. You followed Jason quietly out of the cave, keeping your distance from him.

When you walked out of the study and into the kitchen, where you were hoping to find Alfred, you were greeted by Tim being pulled around by Brutus, while he sat in a wagon that was clearly too small for him.

“It seems Master Drake has taken a liking to your dear Brutus.” Alfred smiled when he saw you.

“Alfred, can I talk to you?” You asked, twisting your fingers.

“Oh dear, I haven’t heard that tone since you were in high school.” Alfred said, dropping what he was doing to turn the stove off and take off his apron. “Let’s go somewhere more private.”

You followed Alfred to the library, where he sat on a couch and you paced in front of him.

“I…had…sex with Dick.” You muttered quietly as you came to stop in front of him, your head hanging low. “And before, I felt fine about my decision. I was secure in it. But now, Jason’s back? And I feel guilty not telling him, you know? I mean I was single when it happened, technically. I thought Jason was gone, Dick thought Jason was gone, everyone thought Jason was gone. I mean am I obligated to tell him? I feel like I should, like my gut is telling me that I should.”

“Oh, dear Lord, I figured this day would come. Truthfully, I thought it would come when you were in high school, but you know, you started dating Jason. When did this happen?”

“About a year ago.” You answered quietly, biting on your thumb nail.

“When Master Grayson was in Paris?” Alfred gasped.

“Now is not the time for details Alfred. What do I do?”

At this point you were so nervous you were floating six inches off the floor.

“Do you think the two of you have a chance at getting back together?”

“y/n…”

“Well, there’s definitely a flirty undertone when we talk. And during training he called me baby.” You bit on the knuckle of your index finger as you watched Alfred’s reaction of disbelief.

“Well, Ms. Prince, I would say you should tell Master Todd about your relations with Master Grayson. It seems as if he has hope for the two of you getting back together. If he does, then it’s fair to ensure he has all the possible information.”

You nodded as you took in Alfred’s words. “Thanks, Alfred, I actually think I know what I need to do.”

“Are you going to tell Master Todd?”

“No, I’ve decided I’m going to kill them both so I don’t have to deal with any fallout.” You shrugged. “It would be quick too, they wouldn’t even realize.”

“Ms. Prince…” Alfred said carefully, suddenly startled.

“Ugh, I’m just joking, Alfred. Yes, I am going to tell Jason that I slept with Dick.” You explained, your hands flopping around in the air as you spoke.

“You had me startled there for a second. Well played, Ms. Prince.” Alfred chuckled.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

Later that night, you made your way down to the cave, where you found your suit. Bruce had a few changes made to it, but it was still essentially the same.

“Hello, old friend.” You whispered as you picked up your suit. You quickly changed and met Jason by his bike.

“You know I can fly, right?” You asked as you pointed limply towards Jason’s bike.

“And have you get hurt or kidnapped because I let you out of my sight? No chance.” Jason helped you climb onto the back of his bike, giving you no chance to protest. He handed you a helmet and you cocked an eyebrow at him, before staring back at the helmet. “Put it on.”

“I hate to pull this card, but, do you like, know who I am?”

“Yes, and I know you think you’re invincible, but you’re not. So, for my sanity, please put it on.”

You huffed and pulled the helmet on, letting Jason make sure everything was alright, before tapping the helmet twice with his hand. As soon as he was on the bike, your arms wrapped around his waist. You felt as Jason jerked away at first, before leaning into your touch.

“Comms check.” You heard Tim say through the communications piece you had in your ear, once you and Jason entered downtown Gotham about twenty minutes later.

“All good.” You and Jason returned at the same time, shouting over the wind that whipped around you two.

“Okay, you guys can’t speak at the same time otherwise I can’t differentiate between you two.”

“We’re good, Tim!” You shouted, wrapping yourself slightly closer to Jason, enjoying his warmth that covered you like a blanket, protecting you from the cold air of the night.

“Alright, the deal’s going down in the old toy factory on third avenue. Wait in the alley until you see a guy in a tan suit enter. Then, you can head in.”

Jason turned off the bike as he pulled up to the old factory and pulled back into the alley across the street.

“So, how long have you been back?” You asked Jason in a lowered voice, ensuring no one could hear you, placing your hands behind you and holding all your weight against them, as you let your legs dangled off the side of the bike.

“About six months.” Jason answered, keeping his eyes trained on the building in front of you.

“And your first instinct was to go to the manor?”

“After I got out of the hospital and away from Ra’s Al Ghul, my first instinct was to find you. The last place I knew you were was the manor.”

“How long did it take you to find me?”

“Not very long. Dick kind of gave up your address the first time I asked for it.”

You pursed your lips and nodded understandingly, not that Jason could see it.

“Hey, isn’t that the guy Tim said to look out for?” You pointed towards the guy that was walking into the factory.

“Alright, I’m heading in.” Jason said, getting off the bike.

“What? What do you mean you’re heading in?” You whisper shouted, as you took your helmet off.

“I mean, I’m heading in.” Jason whispered back.

“There’s no way you’re going in there alone.” You protested quietly.

“It is way too dangerous in there for you.” Jason said through gritted teeth.

“You need to stop treating me like I’m porcelain, Jason. I was quite literally made for this.”

“No, your mom was made for this. You just so happened to inherit her powers.”

“I am going to choose to ignore that out of kindness. I guarantee I can go in there and do the job in a quarter of the time it takes you. No one would even see me.”

“You’re not going in there.” Jason reaffirmed.

“One of you needs to get in there, now.” Tim said over the comms.

You rolled your eyes and sat back down on the bike.

“If I come out screaming, ‘go, go, go,’ jump in the front and take off. I know you think I won’t catch up, but I will. Just go and I will jump on the back when I catch up.” Jason explained.

“Fine.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

After fifteen minutes of sitting around doing nothing, you heard gunshots ring out from the factory, followed by Jason running out frantically screaming “go, go, go.” You panicked for a second before starting the bike and pulling out of the alley. You listened intently as you heard bullets being shot from behind you and the heavy feet of Jason, stomping along the road as he followed you. When you felt Jason jump onto the back of the bike, you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in.

“What happened in there?” You shouted over the comms.

“I fucked up.” Jason admitted, before turning around half way to shoot back at the car that was following us.

“I told you I could go in and finish that job in a quarter of your time without anyone even seeing me! But, no, you just had to be the one who did it!”

“I can’t hear you! I’m too busy trying to protect our asses!”

“Do you trust me?”

“Is this really the time-”

“Do you trust me?” You repeated, a little louder this time.

“Fuck…Yes, yes I trust you!”

“Good, I need you to take over!”

Once you felt Jason’s arms come around you and take over the driving, you turned around so you were facing Jason, pulling his guns out of his holsters in the process. You peered around Jason’s shoulder and started shooting at the car, making sure to aim for the tires you planned to make flat. But, you’re not exactly the best shot, and when you accidentally hit something beside the tire, the car blew up.

“Woah, when did you become a good shot?” Jason asked, as you slid his guns back into their holsters.

“Wouldn’t exactly say that.” You muttered, turning around to face the correct way. But, when you turned around, you got a whiff of something, something metallic. “Are you bleeding? Did you get fucking shot?”

“I’m fine.” Jason said through gritted teeth.

You pushed Jason’s hands off the handles and took over driving.

“You need to apply pressure to that!” You shouted, nudging Jason’s arm with your elbow.

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Jason reassured you, as he moved his hand to cover the wound.

It wasn’t long before you were pulling back into the cave, where you were greeted by Alfred and Tim.

“Good news, it’s just a graze on your arm, but you will still need stitches.” Alfred said as he checked Jason’s arm. “I think Ms. Prince should be the one to patch you up. It will be a good chance to catch up on her first aid.”

“Are you sure-” Jason started but was soon cut off by Alfred and Tim walking out of the cave.

You sighed and went to grab a suture kit, as Jason hopped up on the exam table.

“Can you take your shirt off, please?” You asked quietly, as you moved to stand in front of Jason. But, when Jason didn’t move, you grew concerned. “Jason, please, can you take off your shirt?”

“It’s—It’s not a pretty sight under there.” Jason said quietly, hanging his head low.

“Jason, I don’t care how scarred you are, I mean I do, just not right now. I’m focused on getting this wound closed.”

Jason hesitated for a second before taking his shirt off. Suddenly, you understood why Jason didn’t want you to see him without a shirt on. Your hands ghosted along his scars, your fingers tracing them lightly. Jason’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your fingers on his skin.

“y/n…”

When your mind caught up with your body, you took a step back and cleared your throat. You moved to Jason’s left side and slipped on a pair of sterilized gloves after washing your hands. Taking a deep breath, you opened the suture kit.

“If you don’t want to do this-”

“I got it.” You muttered, applying a local anesthetic to the wound area. Carefully, you cleaned the wound, making sure that any bullet fragments were removed.

After a short twenty minutes, you finally finished stitching up Jason.

“Finally.” Jason groaned out as he pulled his shirt back on.

“Maybe if you didn’t move around so much, I would’ve been able to finish faster.” You smiled, to show you were joking, as you moved around the table, collecting the bloody gauze.

“I thought about what you said this morning.” Jason said, breaking through the silence. “I should’ve left you some sort of sign or let Dick tell you that I was alive. If I knew how badly you were hurting, I would’ve done anything to ease that pain.”

“I slept with Dick.” You blurted out. You watched as Jason went through a handful of emotions, before he got off the exam table and walked towards the tunnel.

“Jay, Jay, please.” You pleaded, tears collecting at your waterline, clinging onto his arm to keep him with you, so you could at least talk. But, Jason just shrugged your arm off of him. “Please can we just talk, Jay?”

“So all that bullshit about how you were so upset you couldn’t even function, was just that then? Bullshit?”

“What? No, of course not. Everything I said was true. I would never lie to you, you know that. Dick was just a one time thing. He came to see me while I was in Paris and things just happened. But, it didn’t mean anything, I swear. We thought you were dead and never coming back. Dick was the only one who understood what I was going through at the time and he was just there.”

“So now you’re just having meaningless sex?”

“No, Jason, god. But, it’s not like I was in a committed relationship anymore. Again, as far as I knew you were dead. Even if you were still gone, did you expect me to stay single forever?”

“I didn’t think you’d sleep with my brother!”

You opened your mouth to say something but no words would come out.

“That’s what I thought.” Jason scoffed before turning back around and leaving the cave.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You were walking through the hall, when you felt someone grab your elbow and pull you down another hall.

“What the hell, Dick?” You muttered, but when you really looked at him, you could see the black eye that was still settling and his busted lip. “Oh, shit.” You tried to stifle your laugh, but your smile still broke through.

“I talked to Jason.” Dick said as his hands settled on either side of your head, trapping you in place. “Why would you tell him?”

“He deserved to know, Dick.”

“He’s not entitled to knowing anything you did outside of the relationship. And if you really felt like you needed to tell Jason, then you should’ve come to me first.”

“Why? So you can get a head start?” You teased, trying to hide your smirk, but Dick didn’t find it funny. You sighed and rolled your eyes. “Look, why don’t we go to the club tonight? The three of us, like when we were in high school, just without the fake I.D.’s. Come on, Dickie, it’ll be fun.”

“Fine.” Dick huffed, taking a step away from you.

As you started to walk away, you turned back around and smiled, saying, “Oh, and if you try something like that again, I’ll make sure it’s the last thing you do, for a while.”

You continued your path down the hallway into the library, where you found Alfred dusting the books.

“Oh, good, Alfred, just the person I was looking for.” You said, closing the door behind you. “I did what you told me to.”

“I figured as much when Master Grayson greeted me this morning with a fresh black eye and still bleeding split lip. How did it go with Master Todd, though?”

“Dick getting beat up didn’t give it away?”

“I figured Master Grayson receiving a beating was inevitable.” Alfred shrugged. “So, not good then?”

“No, Alfred, not good.” You huffed, throwing yourself down on a couch. “I mean, what if Jason never speaks to me again?”

“Trust me, Ms. Prince, Master Todd is a young man, who you’ve had past relations with, he will speak to you again.”

“Do you think he’ll speak to me today?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter now.

“I wouldn’t push it, Ms. Prince.” Alfred answered and you slumped back against the couch.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You sat at your vanity, focusing on your eyeliner, with the door open, when you saw Jason walk past your room. You quickly paused your music and ran out into the hallway, not minding that the only thing you were wearing was your silk robe.

“Jason.” You started after you stopped in front of him, your arms crossed and your weight resting on one foot. “Do you want to come to the club with Dick and I tonight?”

“And be a third wheel? No thanks.” Jason scoffed, before he moved around you and continued on his way. You grabbed his elbow and pulled him back towards you, his weight not being a problem compared to your strength.

“You wouldn’t be a third wheel. Come on, when was the last time the three of us went out together, just to have some fun?”

“Fine.” Jason huffed, his hard face faltering when he saw your face light up with excitement as you jumped up and down, clapping, while you cheered. When you realized what you were doing, you quickly stopped and cleared your throat.

“Um, so you should get ready. The pregame is in Dick’s room.” You chuckled awkwardly, pointing finger guns at Jason, earning a raised eyebrow from him. You quickly turned on your heel and headed back to your room, silently swearing at yourself for your embarrassing actions.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

You sat in Dick’s room on the couch playing Mario Kart with him, as the two of you waited Jason to join. Beerio was always the go-to pregame for the three of you, but, specifically the Wii addition. When you saw Jason walk in, you put your controller down on the couch and walked towards him.

He looked good, like embarrassingly good, like you just wanted his attention, and his attention only, all night.

“Wow, you do remember how to dress for the club.” You smiled as you looked over Jason shamelessly.

When Jason saw you, he could feel his breath get caught in his throat. No matter how mad he was at you, his body would always have a reaction to you, his brain would always short circuit when he saw you.

“Took a couple tries, but I got there eventually.” Jason muttered, causing you to smile.

“y/n…”

“We’re playing your favorite game, if you want to join.” You offered with the same smile still on your face.

“I guess I’ll play a couple rounds of Beerio.”

You and Jason made your way over to the couch and you couldn’t help but feel worried; worried that the two boys wouldn’t speak to each other, worried that the night could be a bust, worried that the two boys would get into a fight.

Dick stood from his spot on the couch as you and Jason approached, sizing Jason up.

“Nice eye.” Jason smirked from behind you.

“Want a matching one?” Dick responded, a scowl forming on his face.

“Okay, we’re not gonna do that tonight.” You interjected, holding your hands up to the boys’ faces. “What is going to happen, now that you’re both here, is you two are gonna talk to one another, apologize to each other, and kiss and make up. What I’m gonna do is walk out that door and hold the door shut so neither of you can leave. Oh, and good luck going out the window, I put a landmine under it.”

“That is psychotic.” Dick said to you, his eyes wide.

“I told you about it, didn’t I?”

You pushed past Jason to walk out of Dick’s room. You closed the door behind you and listened in on the two boys.

“Okay, well, we’re trapped in here.” Jason sighed, sitting down.

“Thank you, for pointing out the obvious, Jay.” Dick replied, following Jason’s movements to sit on the couch. “She could be bluffing.”

“She’s not, she used the same tone of voice she uses when she thinks she’s in the right and everyone else is wrong.” Jason pointed out.

“Well, then, we’re gonna have to do what she’s asking for. And she’s probably listen to our every word, so it’s not like we can pretend we made up just to get out of here.”

“I know what you’re trying to do, Dick!” You called from the hallway. You raised your eyebrows as you heard Dick groan in frustration.

“Okay, fine, let’s just get this over with.” Dick muttered.

“Fine by me.” Jason replied.

“Well, you obviously aren’t gonna go first, so I’ll go.” Dick started after waiting for Jason to speak first. “I’m sorry, I slept with your…with y/n. It was wrong and I shouldn’t have done it.”

“And I’m sorry I jumped you while you were coming out of your room this morning.” Jason apologized. “I just have a couple of questions.”

“Okay…” Dick said hesitantly, narrowing his eyes at Jason.

“Did you have feelings for her before I…” Jason asked, avoiding the use of the word ‘died’.

“No, no, I wouldn’t do that to you. You were in love with her like the second you met her. It was just like a heat of the moment thing.”

“Do you still have feelings for her?”

The fact that Dick and Jason knew you could hear them, made Dick more uncomfortable than he’s ever been before. You listened intently as Dick shifted around in his seat.

“I don’t—No, no, I don’t.” Dick answered, swallowing the lump in his throat.

You walked back in with a smile on your face.

“Well done, boys.” You cheered.

“Go disarm the bomb.” Jason said, pointing towards the window.

“Ugh, fine.” You groaned, tilting your head back. “But, Tim and I did have a bet on who would blow up first, so…”

“Go disarm the bomb.” Jason repeated, raising his voice a little this time.

You sped outside and quickly disarmed and removed the bomb and made your way back to Dick’s room before either of them were able to get three words out to each other.

“Anyone up for Beerio?” You asked with a smile as you pushed your hair out of your face.

After about three hours of pregaming, you, Jason, and Dick stood at the top of the staircase, figuring out how to get down the quietest way possible.

“I could just fly us down.” You offered quietly.

“Do you know how demeaning that is?” Dick asked, his words slurring a little.

But, a few minutes later, you were flying down the stairs, while holding onto the two dumbest men you’ve ever met.

“Where do you three think you’re going?” Bruce asked, flicking on the light in the foyer. Out of shock, you dropped both of the boys and your hands clasped around your mouth, an attempt at trying to hold your laughter back.

“We were just going out for some adult fun.” You explained as you made your way back to the floor, your heels clinking against the hardwood, and the boys scrambled to their feet.

“Dressed like that? Not a chance.” Bruce chuckled.

“Bruce, I’m not a kid anymore you can’t tell me what to wear.” You protested, crossing your arms.

“My house, my rules.” Bruce smirked, making you scowl deeply, the reminder of ‘my house, my rules’ from your childhood leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

“I’ll do an extra night of patrol next week.” You offered, sighing deeply.

“Boys?”

“I will train with Damian, twice, next week.” Dick said, his head hanging.

“I’ll tag onto that extra night of patrol.” Jason smirked, crossing his arms.

“You may go. But, stop trying to sneak out, it never works well for you three.”

“Wait, how did you know we were leaving?” Dick asked.

“You three aren’t exactly the pinnacle of quiet.”

♠︎♠︎♠︎

Jason swore he was going to break the glass in his hand as he watched you dance with Dick. He watched as Dick’s hands slid up your hips over the leather of your red mini skirt, up to your waist, where he teased the skin under your matching red, leather, strapless corset top you were wearing. When Jason’s eyes met Dick’s, Dick smirked and traced his teeth along the column of your throat, placing a kiss at the base of your neck. You broke out of Dick’s hold and made your way over to Jason, with a smile on your face.

“You can’t have fun if you’re brooding in the corner.” You joked, grabbing his hand to pull him towards the crowd of people.

“You seem like you’re having fun.” Jason replied, remaining stuck in his spot.

“I’d be having more fun if it was you I was dancing with. Dick is fine on his own, I’m sure he’s already found someone else to dance with. I want to dance with you.”

Jason set his glass down and let you pull him into the crowd. You had lost Dick, but you didn’t really mind. You were just focused on the beat of the music and how well your hips moved with Jason’s.

“y/n…”

But, back at the manor, things were going differently than you thought they would be going. Alfred and Bruce sat in the study as Alfred caught Bruce up on the drama going on between you, Jason, and Dick.

“So, what about you, Master Wayne, which ‘couple’ are you rooting for? Master Drake and the younger Master Wayne have both placed their wagers.” Alfred said.

“I am rooting for peace, Alfred.” Bruce replied flatly.

“I know you better than that, Master Wayne, you have your mind made up.” Bruce smirked softly at Alfred’s comment and looked down at his glass of scotch.

“You’re right Alfred, I do have my mind made up.”

About two hours later, you and Jason had Dick’s arms draped across your shoulders as you walked outside the club.

“Can we get Taco Bell?” Dick asked, his words slurring together.

“Yes, we can get Taco Bell.” You laughed, patting Dick’s chest with your free hand. You looked over at Jason—who wasn’t too far behind Dick in terms of drunkness, but was definitely more coherent—to see him already looking at you. You sent him a small smile, which he returned with a lazy one, too busy focusing on carrying Dick and trying to walk straight. You walked into the Taco Bell that was just across the street from the club and it was packed with people. The three of you walked up to the self-older kiosk, with you standing at the kiosk, putting in everything the boys slurred at you. When it was time to pay, Dick tried to push you to the side as you dug through your purse for your wallet.

“It’s ok, Bruce’s got it.” Dick assured you, as he took out his black card.

“No, it’s fine, my mom will pay for it.” You responded, pulling out a similar black card.

Ah, it was time for your favorite game: ‘Which Rich Kid’s Parent Is Going to Pay for the Most Mundane Thing?’ Before you and Dick could end your stare off and incessant babbling of ‘No, really, it’s fine,’ Jason inserted his own black card into the card reader.

“Sorry, I’m hungry. And you guys were taking too long.” Jason whined.

The three of you found a table, once your food was called, and sat down. Jason sat next to you and Dick sat on the opposite side of the booth.

“Come on, baby, let’s just ditch Dick and go back to the manor, just you and me.” Jason whispered in your ear. His arms were wrapped around your waist as Jason nipped at your ear lobe softly.

“We’ll be right back.” You said to Dick as you dragged Jason out of the booth and towards the family restroom. You quickly locked the door and turned back towards Jason.

“We can’t leave Dick here, Jason.” You muttered quietly as Jason started his attack on your neck, leaving quickly healing marks littered around your collarbone.

“Why not? You can’t dance like we’re fucking for two hours and tell me you aren’t a little worked up.” Jason said, his hands pushing your skirt up to paw at your ass.

“Because, he’s barely coherent.” You explained, threading your fingers through his dark locks, tugging lightly.

“Come on, baby, just a little quickie, at least.”

It wasn’t long before Jason had you bent over the sink of the family restroom, your skirt bunched up around your waist with your thong pulled to the side. Jason’s hands gripped your ass cheeks, spreading them apart to see where the two of you connected, evidence of your first orgasm as a ring at the base of his cock.

“Did Dick fuck you this good, baby, hm?” Jason asked, leaning forward to talk in your ear.

“No, J-Jay, j…just you-u.” You moaned out, your hands gripping the sink so hard, it was starting to crumble under your strength, as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You were trying to stay as quiet as possible, praying no one would hear you. But, Jason was making it hard with the way he was touching you and grunting in your ear.

“Doing so good for me, baby. Taking me so well.” Jason grunted, his thrusts starting to become sloppier. Your wet, warm cunt squeezing around Jason’s cock was enough to egg him on, tossing his head back as his hips snapped against yours. Jason couldn’t help himself from staring into the mirror, watching as your face contorted with pleasure. “So fucking pretty like this.”

It wasn’t long before that familiar feeling started creeping up on you. A few thrusts later and both you and Jason were coming. Jason’s head hung low as he panted loudly, his grip harsh on your hips still. Your eyes wandered up the mirror, looking at Jason through the mirror, smiling like you had done all the work and now you were looking at your masterpiece. Jason pulled out of you slowly and stepped back from you as he fixed his pants. You adjusted your own clothes before stepping out of the bathroom and quickly making your way back over to Dick, who had half a taco hanging out of his mouth as he started to drift off to sleep.

“No way, did you two just have sex?” Dick slurred, glaring at you and Jason.

“No.” You answered flatly, looking at your phone.

You called an Uber for the three of you and cleaned up the trash, before you and Jason hauled Dick outside. The three of you weren’t standing outside long before your Uber pulled up.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

When you walked into your room, you thanked the gods you had asked Tim to take care of Brutus for the night. Jason kicked the door to your room closed behind him, his grip on your hips never faltering as he kissed you delicately.

This wasn’t like the drunken mess in the bathroom, this was soft, patient. Jason’s hands only left your hips to hold on to your face, his thumb caressing your cheekbone softly. You quickly unbuttoned his black button up, not hesitating to use your speed as you unbuttoned it, before quickly pushing it down his shoulders and arms. All while Jason fumbled with the knot of your corset top. Frustrated with it, Jason just opted for tearing the top off of you, muttering ‘sorry’s’ and promises of buying you a new one against your lips.

“That was Dior, baby.” You whined as the back of your knees hit the bed, forcing you to sit down.

“y/n…”

“Like I said, I’ll buy you another one.” Jason shrugged after he kicked off his shoes and started working on his belt. You leaned forward and put your hands on Jason’s waist as you peppered kisses along his abs. You caught Jason’s cock before it could slap against your chin. Slowly, you teased Jason’s tip with your thumb, spreading his pre-cum all the way down his shaft, as you continued your assault of kisses on his stomach. Soon enough, you averted your kisses away from his abs to where you knew he really wanted your lips. You pressed delicate kisses to Jason’s tip before licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. You bobbed your head down one, two, three times, watching as Jason was a groaning mess above you. His hand gripped your hair tightly, sightly guiding your head as he thrusted into your mouth. At this point, Jason had taken over most of the work and you could feel your own arousal dripping down your legs along with Jason’s cum and your own. You may have forgotten how big Jason was, but your body didn’t. It was like instinct the way your throat opened up for Jason. You could feel Jason’s thrusts start to get sloppier as he got closer to his release. You pulled your head back, letting go of Jason’s cock with a pop.

“Sorry, baby, the only place I want you coming tonight is inside of me.” You said, slightly shaking your head as you ran your thumb nail over the vein on the underside of Jason’s cock, slowly. You guided Jason to lay down on your bed, his head hitting the pillows softly. He watched as you stood up at the side of the bed and pulled down your skirt and thong, leaving you only in your heels. Jason’s hand came up to your hip, massaging it softly, as you walked closer to the bed. You climbed onto the bed and crawled over Jason so you straddled his abs, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his chest as you looked down at Jason with the dirtiest look in your eyes.

“Jay, I have a question for you.” You started softly, tracing some random scars that ran across Jason’s chest. “Can I sit on your face?”

Jason didn’t say anything in reaponse, he just grabbed your thighs and pulled you up so you were positioned above his face. The suddenness of Jason’s actions had you grabbing the headboard to prevent you from falling forward. Jason’s hands snaked around your thighs, pulling you down flat against his tongue. You gasped out at the sudden feeling of pleasure, causing you to arch your back and press yourself further down against Jason’s face, his nose bumping into your clit. He licked a stripe through your folds, sending goosebumps up your spine. You grinded against Jason’s face, forcing his tongue impossibly deeper inside you. The noises that left your mouth as Jason lapped at your cunt could be labeled as pornographic.

God, you had waited for this moment for so long, to be able to touch and feel and be with Jason. Now, the two of you were catching up the best you knew how; by proving to each other just how well you remember each other’s bodies. Sex was such a big part of your relationship before, mainly because you were horny teenagers, but it happened any time you were stressed from being worked so hard by Bruce or stressed from yet another day of training, going to school, and then staying up most of the night to fight the never ending crime of Gotham, or if you just wanted to be closer to each other, more intimate.

A particularly sharp bite to your inner thigh, brought you out of your thoughts and made you squeal.

“Sorry, baby, I was losing you.” Jason said from between your thighs, before pressing a soft kiss to your clit. “What were you thinking about, my love?”

You rolled your eyes at the game Jason wanted to play. He loved hearing you talk during sex, it let him know just how good he was doing.

“Don’t want to talk about it.” You whined, trying to grind yourself against Jason’s face, but he held you in place. Jason wouldn’t do anything until you spoke, he would make you sit here until you suffocated him. You huffed and Jason took this as a good sign as he started eating you out again. “Just thinking…ab…ab…about us.” You managed to moan out. You smiled as Jason allowed you to start moving again, letting you get the amount of friction you wanted. After a particularly good swipe of his tongue, Jason had you grabbing his hair with your hands. You weren’t pulling hard, just kind of had them there. “A-and…how…much-h…I-I…missed…you…a-an-” You were cut off by a loud moan that had you blushing. You were close, Jason could tell you were close. Jason sped up his attack on your dripping cunt, focusing more on your clit. His name fell from your lips like a prayer, as your orgasm washed over you, your thighs clamping down roughly around Jason’s head. Gasps and little moans made their way out of your mouth, mixing with the other sounds of the room. Jason lapped at your folds, trying to collect all your juices. You moved back slightly so you could lean down and kiss Jason, tasting yourself on him.

“Come on, baby, stop being such a tease.” Jason joked, smiling up at you as his hands rested on your waist.

“I’m not teasing.” You smirked. “Sometimes I just like to kiss my handsome boy.”

You could feel Jason’s tip twitch against your ass after you said that. Repositioning yourself above Jason’s hard length, you lined up Jason’s tip with your dripping entrance, and started to lower yourself onto it. Slowly, you took inch after inch until Jason was fully inside you.

Jason always thought you gorgeous in every way, but he definitely thought you were the most gorgeous like this; stuffed to the brim with him, your back arched, tits on full display, and making the prettiest little noises he’s ever heard.

Jason’s hands found residence on your waist to help guide you as you moved up and down. For the first few minutes, you moved your hips slowly to antagonize Jason.

“You’re killing me here, babe.” Jason groaned, his head hitting the pillow. “Keep going this slow and I might have to take over.”

“Baby, I could give you friction burn if I wanted to.” You smiled sweetly. “Let me have my fun.”

Eventually, you did pick up speed, giving you and Jason the pleasure you both so desperately wanted. Your hands gripped onto Jason’s thighs, letting you lean back on your hands for support. The change in the angle allowed Jason’s cock to touch a place it hadn’t touched yet, causing you to let out a loud moan.

“Feels so good, Jay.” You moaned out. You weren’t one for talking during sex, but you knew Jason liked to hear how he made you feel, it let him know he was doing what he was supposed to be doing.

You started to pick up the pace as you felt your orgasm approaching. Everything was starting to become almost too much. The wet sounds coming from your cunt, the smell of sex in the room, the feeling of Jason’s cock buried deep inside you, reaching places only he could. Your senses were on fire. Your jaw hung low and your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm washed over you violently. Jason leaned up and wrapped his arms around you. He placed soft kisses along your neck as he solely moved you up and down, helping you ride out your high.

“Think you got a couple more in you?” Jason whispered in your ear as you crumpled in his hands. All you could do was nod in return, letting Jason move both of you so you were laying on your back now. You had a feeling it was gonna be a long night.

♠︎♠︎♠︎

After a couple of hours and countless orgasms from you both, Jason and you were on your sides, your leg was thrown over Jason’s hip as he thrusted into you slowly, placing kisses along your neck and whispering sweet nothings into your ear. You and Jason had agreed this was the last round of the night, but even after you both finished, neither one of you wanted to let go. You were afraid to fall asleep, incase you woke up and found yourself back in your apartment in Connecticut. But, as long as you were touching Jason, you convinced yourself you were safe. You were always safe as long as you had Jason nearby.

“y/n…”

You reached your hand behind you and threaded your fingers through Jason’s hair. A warm tear ran down your face and it was like Jason could feel a change in the air.

“Whats wrong, my love?” Jason asked softly, stopping his movements immediately.

“What’s…What’s my name?” You asked hesitantly, closing your eyes as you could feel more tears coming to your eyes.

“What?” Jason asked, clearly confused.

“You’re the only one, since I’ve been back, who hasn’t said my name.”

“Baby, I know your name.”

You let one more tear go before slowly pulling yourself off of Jason and standing up at the side of the bed.

“Jason loved my name.” You said quietly. “He said it was the most beautiful thing he ever heard of. And Jason never called me ‘baby,’ he said I deserved better nicknames than that. I guess, I should’ve realized what was going on earlier when we were training, when you called me ‘baby’. And that treadmill? Bruce got rid of that treadmill after I flew off of it…this-this is a dream, right?”

You watched as Jason’s soft gaze hardened.

“Baby, come back to bed.” He insisted.

“No. I’ve read studies on Lucid Dreaming, acknowledging you’re in a dream, tends to piss the dream people off. Maybe I should’ve realized it when we were on patrol; Jason, my Jason, didn’t treat me like porcelain.”

You turned to walk towards the door, it had to be the way out.

“Please, don’t go.” You heard Jason plead as you walked towards the door. “Are you really gonna leave me? Just like you did the night I died? The night Joker murdered me?”

Your eyes flickered to the ground, before you wrapped your hand around the doorknob and yanked it open.

“y/n!”

You woke up with a jolt in your apartment in Connecticut. You were breathing so hard, you were worried you might actually have a heart attack.

“Oh, thank God.” Dick muttered, his head dropping.

“Dick…Dick what-what are you doing here?” You asked, catching your breath.

“I came in a couple of hours ago, I wanted to surprise you.” Dick answered with a smile. “But, you were crying in your sleep. I was so worried I woke you up. Was it Jason again?”

You pulled your eyes away from Dick as you nodded.

“What happened this time?” Dick asked quietly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear so he could see your face from where he laid on the bed.

“Just the usual. I’m a piece of shit for leaving him with Joker, I murdered him, you know all the things dead boyfriends say to their girlfriends.”

“Dead people don’t talk, Love. You know if Jason were alive he wouldn’t blame you for anything. No one blames you for anything.”

“I could’ve…I am just as strong as Wonder Woman and I could’ve gone after Joker that night, if Bruce had just let me.”

“Y/n, you were angry, you were upset, you just witnessed your boyfriend get killed. Bruce pulled you out of there to keep you safe. He knew you would’ve gone after Joker. He knew you would’ve killed him and he didn’t want you to have that on your conscience.”

“I’m not a killer.” You muttered as you looked down at your hands.

“No, you’re not, Love.” Dick agreed softly, threading his fingers through yours.

“How are…things with that Red Hood guy?” You asked, an attempt at trying to change the subject.

“Thats the thing. I need you to come home.”

[jinjeriffic]

DCxDP Prophecy Universe Part 5

Part 4

After collecting their bags from the library lockers Jazz led him down the hallway until she found a small, unlocked, empty classroom. The room was barren except for desks and a whiteboard. I guess they don’t bother locking it if there’s nothing worth stealing.

Jazz sat her messenger bag down on the teacher’s desk and pulled a whiteboard marker out of a side pocket.

“Right,” Jazz began, “I don’t know how much you know about ecto-entities and since, as you said, the reports on them tend to be pretty biased, I’m just going to start from scratch. Sounds good?” she rambled.

Tim hopped up onto the front row desk and tried his best to look like an attentive teacher’s pet.

“Yes, Ms Fenton,” he said cheekily.

Jazz gave him an amused look.

“Careful Mr Taylor, or you’ll end up in detention,” she said lightly. She turned to the whiteboard and gathered her thoughts for a moment, then wrote ECTO-ENTITIES in large block letters, “Many people refer to all ecto-entities as ghosts, but this is actually a misnomer. Ghosts as most people think of them, i.e. the restless spirits of the dead, are only a small subset of the ectoplasmic population. There’s plenty of them that were never human to begin with,” higher up on the board, she wrote INFINITE REALMS, “Ecto-entities originate from a parallel dimension to ours, which is called the Infinite Realms by its inhabitants. Though my parents refer to it as the Ghost Zone, that name is woefully inadequate.” Jazz paused and glanced at him.

“Kinda like foreigners renaming places instead of using the one in the native language, gotcha,” Tim nodded. They had dealt with alternate realities before, so this wasn’t completely out of left field. He would go along with it for now. Jazz gave him a small smile.

“That’s right!” she said and tapped the whiteboard, “Now, the Infinite Realms and our dimension are closely interconnected, like two sides of the same coin. Large scale damage to one would cause similar devastation on the opposite side and vice versa,” she gave him a serious look.

“Which makes the hostile attitude of the paranormal research community rather worrying,” Tim mused, “If someone did something stupid the blowback would hit us too,” If he wasn’t trained to read people he would have missed the slight tightening around Jazz’s eyes.

“That’s the theory anyway. And it’s not like the US government ever dropped bombs on people just to see what would happen,” she chirped with false cheeriness.

There’s a story there, Tim thought, and not the kind you would find in a history book. What the hell has been going on?

“I’m guessing getting access to the Infinite Realms isn’t as easy as calling an Uber though,” he joked.

“You’d be surprised,” Jazz said wryly, receiving a raised eyebrow in response, “there are places where the barrier between worlds is naturally thin, allowing temporary rifts to form more easily, but they can pop up pretty much anywhere in the world. It’s what allows ecto-entities to enter our dimension. It’s also not unheard of for humans to stumble into the Realms either, though they’re lucky to return at all,” she twirled the marker between her fingers, “Time doesn’t seem to work the same way in the Realms as it does here. Just in case you ever come across one, make sure to leave through the same portal you entered. Otherwise you might find yourself stranded in the Middle Ages, or far in the future with everyone you know and love long dead.”

Tim had to fight to keep down a wince. The whole Bruce Lost In Time Debacle was still an emotional scar for the family, they really didn’t need a repeat performance.

“Duly noted.”

“Some entities are able to open and close rifts at will,” Jazz continued, unfazed by Tim’s dry tone, ”though that ability seems to be pretty rare. It probably requires an unusual level of power or incursions would be much more common.”

“That would explain the little disappearing trick Damian’s delivery guy pulled,” Jason murmured through Tim’s earpiece, “But does that mean we’re dealing with a fucking super ghost?”

Tim gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers against the edge of the desk.

“Do you think humans could open a portal to the Realms?”

Jazz gave him a wry smile.

“You just summed up the bulk of my parents’ research over the last two decades. They managed to build a functioning portal about two years ago.”

Tim choked. Jason swore.

“What?! But that’s-! How is that not all over the news?!” Tim sputtered. Jazz just sighed.

“My parents have been ranting about ghosts since they were in college,” she said wearily, ”Most of the scientific community had written them off as crackpots years ago. It doesn’t help that large concentrations of ectoplasm generate some kind of interference that messes with recording equipment. Short of kidnapping the naysayers and shoving them bodily through the Fenton Ghost Portal it’s hard to prove anything. And thankfully even my parents aren’t that crazy,” she finished with an eye roll.

Tim buried his face in his hands. An interdimensional portal. What the fuck. He thought back on everything Jazz had told him so far.

“What’s ectoplasm?”

“You’ve been paying attention!” she smiled and added some notes to the whiteboard, “Ectoplasm is the basic building block of everything in the Infinite Realms, and by extension ecto-entities. Hence the name. It’s the equivalent of matter in our dimension; atoms, protons, quarks, etcetera. I’m not a physicist, so I can’t tell you exactly how it works, but that’s why ecto-entities are able to interact with our physical world in such fascinating ways. Flight, intangibility and invisibility are all common abilities for them.”

“Wow, what a fucking security nightmare. B is gonna freak,” Jason groused. Tim tuned him out to focus on Jazz’s continued explanation.

“My parents have been experimenting with using ectoplasm for power generation, but it’s proven extremely volatile. It seems like it’s affected by things like belief and emotion which is absolutely fascinating,” she said with a gleam in her eye, “not to mention its effects on organic tissue. Have you ever had your dinner come to life and try to eat you?”

Tim had a sudden, horrible suspicion.

“Can’t say that I have,” he managed to squeeze out past the lump in his throat, “Um… Jazz, what does ectoplasm look like?”

“Well that depends on what it’s been affected and shaped by but in its raw form it looks like a bright green, glowing liquid,” she tilted her head, “Why do you ask?”

Over the comms, Jason made a sound like someone had kicked him in the crotch.

“Lazarus water?! Is she talking about the fucking pits?!” he choked out.

Tim made a valiant effort to keep his own reaction in check.

“Oh, just wondering how I’ll recognize a ghost- er, ecto-entity when I see one,” he lied with fake casualness, “You mentioned something about powers?”

“Yes! All the entities we’ve encountered so far have exhibited powers which are common to their species, as well as additional powers that seem to depend on the individual core. I’ve theorized that powers develop as a response to stress related to either their Obsession or death trauma…” Jazz trailed off, “aaaaaand I’ve lost you.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, I know I have a tendency to ramble,” she said sheepishly and considered the bullet points she had written so far, “Let me backtrack a bit. Not all ecto-entities are ghosts. There’s personifications of concepts, which I theorize are formed through the collective consciousness of living beings. They are entities which represent Hope or Justice or-”

“Time?” Tim interjected. Jazz gave him a calculating look.

“...sure. They are among the most powerful entities and have powers related to what they represent. I suspect they may have even been worshipped as gods at some point. You definitely wouldn’t want to mess with them,” at Tim’s nod, she continued, “There’s also the Neverborn, which are formed when ecto-entities choose to reproduce. They are entirely of the Infinite Realms, and thus were never ‘born’ into our world.”

“Ghosts can have children?” he said, surprised.

“Yes, although I’ve never been able to get the details on how it works. They don’t like to discuss it with outsiders. And considering they can look like dragons or disembodied floating eyeballs I’m not sure I’d want to know the exact mechanics,” she joked.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of people who’d disagree with you on that,” Tim muttered, then paused. “Wait, dragons?”

Jazz waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t worry about it. The point is that there’s way more to the other side than most people realize. There’s probably lots of things I’ve never even heard of. It’s quite exciting, really!”

Tim worried about it. A lot. Jason had also gone suspiciously quiet.

“So, ghosts are just the tip of the iceberg?” Tim hedged.

“Exactly. What sets them apart from other ecto-entities is that they are usually created upon the death of someone or something from our dimension, which gives them motivation to come back here,” Jazz added more notes and arrows to the whiteboard. “All entities have something they call a core; think of it as their central organ or brain. It houses their consciousness, and its nature affects what powers they get. There’s all kinds of elemental cores like fire and water, but also more esoteric ones like shadow or technology. An ecto-entity’s body is composed of ectoplasm and moulded by their core. Their physical form is malleable and heavily based on their self-perception. With experience they can change shape to suit their needs.”

Tim mentally added shapeshifting to the growing list of powers to worry about. So far it sounded a lot like a Martian’s.

“So can ecto-entities grow and age?”

“It depends. The Neverborn usually do, but a lot of ghosts have a bit of a Peter Pan thing going on where they don’t want to. They are often ‘stuck’ at the age they were when they died, physically and mentally. Though there’s always exceptions.”

Tim hummed thoughtfully. Something had been bothering him since ghosts had first entered the equation.

“Jazz, if ghosts don’t age or die, why aren’t they all over the place? Even if rifts are rare, shouldn’t there be hundreds of thousands of years worth of dead folks wandering the Earth?”

She gave him a sad smile.

“I never said ghosts couldn’t die, Adam,” she said carefully, ”And not everyone who dies comes back as a ghost. The ones who do typically have some unfinished business holding them back. Like an obsession they never got to fulfill, or a loved one they are watching over. Once they are done, they are free to move on to whatever Afterlife awaits them,” she sighed and crossed her arms, “It also takes a lot of energy for a ghost to do anything in our world. I think a majority of them never hit that level, or can’t keep it up for any significant amount of time. It’s also part of the reason my parents are so biased against them.”

“I’m not sure I follow.”

“Think about it. Most ecto-entities are just like regular people, going about their business and keeping their heads down. The ones who are both motivated to cross into our world, powerful enough to manifest and tend to make themselves known are the troublemakers. It would be like an alien looking at the population of Belle Reve and concluding that the majority of humans must be super villains! It’s sample bias.”

Tim bit his lip. This all sounded worryingly plausible, which would mean a literal world of trouble about to come down on their heads. Fuck, just what we needed.

“You mentioned that ghosts can die. I assume you don’t mean from old age, right?” he queried. Jazz looked at him wearily.

“You’d be right. If an ecto-entity’s core is too badly damaged, they will cease to exist,” she said cautiously, “It doesn’t help that ghosts tend to maintain a strength based social hierarchy and are fiercely protective of their territory. Ecto-entities usually have a lair within the Infinite Realms, and those who cross over to our dimension often establish a haunt to call their own. Any intruders would be met with violence,” she sighed and rubbed her forehead, “My parents have also been developing weapons to fight ghosts with… varying degrees of success. A lot of their tech runs on ectoplasm which makes it pretty temperamental.”

Seeing Jazz’s obvious discomfort with the topic, Tim decided to switch tracks.

“Is there any way to tell for sure if my brother came back as a ghost?”

Relieved at the change, Jazz made a see-sawing motion with her hand.

“Kind of? My parents tried for ages to build a ghost detector but they never got it to work quite right. Too much ambient ectoplasm in Amity I guess,” she shrugged as if that statement wasn’t extremely worrying. “You could always grab a ouija board or something and try asking. Just… don’t ask a ghost about their death. It’s a major trauma for most of them and there’s no better way to send them into a frothing rage. If they volunteer the information that’s one thing, but to ask about it is like the social faux pas among ecto-entities.”

Tim nodded and made a mental note to get his hands on some Fenton tech. He had a feeling it was going to be a long week for him.

Jason and Tim didn’t speak until they were safely back in the car. Tim was mentally composing the report they would have to make to Bruce. He was not looking forward to his reaction.

“So,” Jason began with fake casualness, “an interdimensional portal in Illinois.”

“Yep.”

“Creatures made of fucking Lazarus Water.”

“Sounds like it.”

“And we still don’t know if our mystery meta is Bruce’s dead kid or not.”

Tim groaned.

“It all adds up though, doesn’t it? The camera glitching, the powers, the portal…”

“And that damned prophecy. The personification of Time, huh?”

Tim pinched his nose to stave off the growing headache. They contemplated the fucked up situation they had stumbled into in silence for a few minutes. Finally, Jason sighed and started up the engine.

“Rock-paper-scissors for who has to tell B?”

Part 6

[mistmessenger]

A tempestuous meeting | Frater Imperator x female!reader one shot

As Copia’s long-time, albeit now distant friend, the ministry tour team nominated you to reason with him about his recent behaviour. You couldn’t have imagined how his intervention was going to play out…

Pairing: Frater Imperator x female reader

18+ MDNI

Content warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!, smut, dubious consent, dubcon, mention of previous friends-with-benefits situation, angst, very insecure crashing out Frater, manipulation and intimidation, angry/mean Frater, shoe riding, dom/sub dynamic, brat taming i guess, degradation, slapping, rough blowjobs/throatfucking, breathplay, humiliation, hint of dacryphilia, ripping clothes, fingerfucking, spitting, mention of intoxication, pain, overstimulation, brief dry humping, name calling, rough sex, mention of ddlg relations, slight breeding kink, love rockets shot right in between your thighs, mention of voyeurism, no aftercare he’s being a BASTARD!, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT.

and obligatory ghost fanfic doing paperwork in the ministry.

AO3 Link

Notes: All of the warnings sorry. By far the horniest thing I've ever written, I fear I need my access to notes app and ms word revoked.

Sorry I'm ovulating and need this goofy little guy to fuck me nasty on every surface of that office

A tempestuous meeting

Standing in the chaos of Copia’s temporary office, on the other side of his desk, you felt a million miles away from him.

It pained you to see your longtime friend struggle, but he was hindering the work of the entire tour team. After months of Copia making things difficult, the team held a group meeting without him, and nominated you to try and speak some sense into him.

Initially, it felt like something you would be capable of. You’d been friends since his early Cardinal days. Surely he would listen to you.

But as he hushed you again, as he had done so many times now in your short conversation that you had lost count, pretending to type something on his computer, you were beginning to lose patience.

“Pap- um. Frater. I can’t pretend to understand how difficult this transition is for you. Especially given…”

You pause, unsure if mentioning his mother’s passing is a wise idea as he glanced up at you with a petulant sneer.

“…given the circumstances. But, we all still have jobs to do. And with the tour preparations said jobs are stressful enough without you…”

You trailed off again, suddenly feeling like this was all a terrible idea, like your siblings had set you up for failure. On the one hand, Copia looked a shell of a man, lost without both his mother and the comfort of his role as a performer. On the other, there was something in his eyes, a rage barely suppressed. You knew he was struggling, heard his curses and the slam of his keyboard when you would pass his office.

Instead of the usual sympathy his outbursts would ignite in you, right now, looking into his eyes as he stood from the couch, you felt nervous.

Deep down he was irate, holding it together by a few frayed threads that were on the cusp of snapping, and your intervention seemed to be shearing right through them.

“Go on sorella. Commit to it. Without me doing what?” He grumbled, rifling through a box of papers. You knew him well enough to know he wasn’t looking for anything in particular, rather making himself look busy.

“Making our jobs harder than it needs to be…” you whispered, holding your breath, almost flinching as you waited for his response.

He stopped, gaze returning to you. It was nothing like you were used to, his eyes cold and uninviting as he raised his brow.

“Am I?”

“A little…” you try to sound less harsh, cringing at the fact you even had to try and reason with him like this, he was a grown man for gods sake. “The pyro team needs those documents signed so the funds can be transferred and they kind of needed them… like yesterday.”

“Oh… Oh dear. I’m delaying a few fireworks for my brother?” His hand reached for his pen, clicking it incessantly, his aggravation seeming to grow by the second. “It just won’t do, will it?”

This is a disaster.

Biting your lip, you sighed. It was difficult for you to air your frustrations to the man that was supposed to be in charge.

“Frater, I gave you those to sign off on over a week ago, I’ve reminded you-“

“You have reminded me no less than five times.” He snapped, rolling his eyes at you, turning his attention back to the screen.

Seven, actually.

“Sorella, you’ve never minced your words with me before. Why so cagey? Hm?”

Because you’re different now.

You keep your lips pressed in a hard line, unable to say the words to him, not sure if they would send him into a rage or reduce him to tears.

“It’s been a long morning.” You shrugged.

“You’re all tense.”

You’re one to talk.

“Biting your tongue. You think I don’t see your eyes? That I can’t tell there’s some little sly remark rattling around that brain of yours?”

Frowning, you shook your head.

“Frater, look-“

“Ah. Ah ah ah.” He closes the distance between you, and you instinctively take a step back, something difficult to do in the mess of his temporary office without tripping on something.

“I know. They- all of you decided I need a little intervention. And they sent you. And as if you weren’t stressed enough with the tour, now you have to worry about how to tiptoe around me-“

A few steps away from you, you watched as his tone became mocking, his brows furrowed. This behaviour was so unlike him, so different to how he had ever spoken to you before. Pursing your lips, it was hard to stifle your sigh as he seemed intent on pressing your buttons.

“I’m not tiptoeing around anything I-“

“No? That’s why you look like you want to run out the door right now? Why you hardly speak two words to me, unless you’re trying to placate me in order to get me to sign whatever shit you need in the moment?”

“That’s not fair-“

“Not fair.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. He pouted for a moment, before waving you away.

“I will sign your damn forms, come by later, they’re buried in between documents.”

Great, now I’ve done it.

You sighed, calming yourself, trying to reason that he was only being like this because it was you. If any of the others had came to him, he wouldn’t be confident enough to be so rude to their face.

“Frater, they’re right there.” You point to the corner of the desk, untouched from the exact spot you had left them last week.

“I’ll sign them later, I’m busy.”

Lord below give me strength.

You didn’t think your frown lasted long enough for him to notice, but clearly he sensed your irritation.

He flung his pen onto the desk, clenching and unclenching his fists, before running a hand through his hair.

“You… You lot think you have it so difficult, because I will not bend and do whatever this new fucker wants right away.”

“Copia, we all want the same thing, we want the project to succeed.” You tried a final time to reach him, but you knew once he started ranting there was little anyone could do to stop him.

“The same thing? It was succeeding - with me. I do not recall wanting to put up with self-interested little rats interrupting me every hour of the day to come in here and squeak ‘Frater, things must be hard for you but you need to sign this form.’”

As he put on a pitched voice, imitating you, the last of your patience drained.

“You know what? Fuck you. You expect the rest of us to coddle you like your mother did. It’s been over a year Copia, I’m sorry but whether you like it or not things have to keep moving, we don’t have a choice! You acting like a fucking brat isn’t helping anyone.”

Your eyes widened, your heart racing.

Why the fuck did I go and say all that?

“I’m sorry. Frater- I. I’m so sorry.” You could hardly bring yourself to look him in the eye, seeing how dejected your outburst would have made him. Your mind raced, you would have to stand down from your post. Hell, you might even flee the ministry at this point. Why would he tolerate your being here after saying something like that?

As you stepped back once more, ready to go clear you desk and leave a note for the rest of your team to say you were jumping before you got pushed, you frowned, perplexed.

He was… smiling?

The room felt cold.

“Maybe I deserved that.” he spoke softly, letting out a breathy laugh as he shook his head.

You knew that he didn’t believe that, and he certainly didn’t appreciate how you said it.

“I’ll go Papa, I’m sorry.”

“Who?”

“I- Fuck. Frater.”

“It’s been over a year sorella, and still you struggle to address me properly. We have to keep moving, do we not?”

Pointedly he took another step towards you. As you went from shuffling backwards to taking bigger steps, your heel caught on the upturned corner of the rug, sending you back against a stack of boxes.

He laughed, and suddenly the pressure in the room seemed to disperse. He sounded like himself for the first time in a long, long time. Like the Cardinal you used to whisper jokes to during library duties, who could only stifle his chuckles for so long before getting you both in trouble with the ghouls. Like the man he was long before his job as Papa, and now Frater, had taken its toll on him.

You let out a breathy laugh in turn, so caught up in the heat of the moment you weren’t sure what to say.

He stalked past you as you half sat half lay on a throne of haphazardly stacked boxes. You weren’t surprised he didn’t offer you a hand to get up, not after what you’d said. But still he snickered, letting slip that soft little heh sound you used to love hearing. As you stood, your head snapped at the sound of the lock clicking.

“Frater?”

He stood with his forehead pressed against the door, letting out a sigh.

“Let us talk, sorella, hm? All this tension, it is no good. I cannot have you exploding like that on the wrong person, hm?”

He turned to stare you down, his expression almost blank, so hard to read.

The wrong person? As if the boss of the whole ministry isn’t the wrong person…

“Frater, I really am sorry, it was uncalled for. I understand I’ll need to step dow-.”

“Shh.” Stepping past you again he leaned against his makeshift desk, waving you over. “Come. Have a seat.”

You cautiously stepped across to the couch, raising a brow. There was hardly a free inch to spare that wasn’t taken up by files and boxes.

You had to practically hover on the edge of the cushion to avoid sliding onto the floor, made even more awkward with how close he was, towering over you.

“Now, sorella. We’ve been friends for a long time. I would hate for work to change that.”

“I know, I’ll stand down, whatever I need to do-“

“Whatever you need to do to make it up to me? Hm? Well perhaps you could stop interrupting me. That would be a start.” His voice was gentle but the message was loud and clear.

You nodded.

“I was being unfair, I suppose. I know how rigid you can be when it comes to deadlines. How you get yourself… worked up.”

That’s an understatement.

Hell, how many times had he talked you out of your panics over the years? Of course he had to know what his behaviour was doing to you.

“These changes around here have been hard for me, but I can see how it is hard on you too. How much pressure you’ve been putting yourself under lately. You’ve been, eh… overdoing it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed - you come into the office, do the work, back to bed. No time for you. It is no wonder you have all this venom ready to spit at me.”

You frown. Sure, he was right - you were blinkered by your work with the tour, but you’d convinced yourself it was only temporary. The tour would begin and you would get a break. What surprised you was that he had even noticed.

Since the release of Impera the two of you had become distant. Initially you put it down to you both being so busy with your respective roles. And Copia enjoying the limelight that came with being Papa, the feeling that everyone wanted a piece of him.

His speech felt manipulative - pointing out how you were working too hard, neglecting to admit a part of the reason you had to work harder was due to his petulance and lack of cooperation. Neglecting to mention his own tantrums and outbursts.

“I worry that you might have one of these little outbursts toward someone… less tolerant than me. Less, eh… forgiving…”

“I-“

“I asked you to stop interrupting me, sorella.” It felt like more of a warning this time, the words sending a shiver down your spine.

“I think it’s more than apparent that you need a… will we say, outlet, of sorts?”

He sat on the desk, resting his feet each side of you on the couch. Before you might have bantered with him, asking him who raised him to put his feet on the furniture. These days, it didn’t feel like the joke would land the way it used to.

The flimsy desk unsurprisingly creaked under the weight of a fully l grown man. You were already surprised it could hold the weight of his ancient computer monitor.

That seems like a terrible idea-

“Stop it.” He sneered, nudging your knee with his foot. You could see it in his eyes, he was getting agitated again. Or rather, he hadn’t stopped feeling agitated, that brief moment of shared laughter was just that. A fleeting moment.

“Wha- What, Frater?” Your eyes gravitated towards his hands, clasping and unclasping at the edge of the desk.

“Thinking. You squint every time a little remark goes through your head. Do you think I do not know you? That I don’t see these things? Spit it out, whichever comment it is you’re itching to make.”

What happened to “don’t interrupt”?

“I just don’t think it’s wise for you to be sitting on the desk like that Frater, it’s not exactly stable.”

Bit like you, actually.

You were jolted from the thought by his foot pressing down on your thigh again. You pouted, hoping his shoes were at least clean.

It wasn’t the first time you’d found yourself between his legs, but this was different. This wasn’t fun. It felt like being scolded as a child.

“Bah. Whatever.” He scoffed, that childish manner of his poking through the cracks again, “As I was saying. You need an outlet, yes?”

“I’ll bear that in mind, Frater.” You agree, holding your tongue just to placate him, as you found yourself doing so often these days.

“You’re my friend sorella, I want to help you.” He leaned forward, the pressure on your thigh growing uncomfortable.

“You have enough on your plate-“

“Interrupt me one more time sorella, I swear-“ he cut himself off, seeing how your eyes widened. His expression seemed to light up, gleeful at seeing you almost cowering from him. You wondered just how your friend had changed so much.

His voice was hushed.

“Now, you will be good, yes?”

He moved his foot, and you winced as the pressure was finally taken off your thigh, only for a moment. Your precarious position at the edge of the couch allowed him space to press the point of his leather shoe between your legs. You startled, scowling at the sudden sensation, combined with the patronising, demanding tone he spoke in. You had no way to move, his other leg caging you in.

It was never like this with him. The occasional inebriated quick fuck in one of your rooms. No dynamic, just two people getting the release they needed from each other and going back about their lives after.

As a million thoughts raced through your head, he pressed harder, causing you to gasp, a little reminder that you still hadn’t answered him.

“Copia- Frater. I’m not doing this. Not here.”

“I know you. Well enough to know how much you leave unsaid. To know how much you need.”

“I dunno what you’re talking about, cut it out!” You squirmed, trying to ignore the sensations as he tilted his foot, as if to torture you. He rolled his eyes again, taking no notice as you grabbed at his leg, attempting to push him away.

“Oh please. I’ve always left you, ah, unsatisfied, no?”

“No?” You scoffed, shaking your head, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Language, sorella.” He murmured, a smirk twitching at the edge of his mouth as you tried in vain to shrink yourself against the boxes on the couch to get away.

You shook your head, a whimper escaping your throat as he refused to ease up, watching you as if you were some sort of experiment, examining how each movement caused you to squirm.

“It was always me seeking you out, sorella. In spite of my offering. You were kind enough to indulge me, but would never seek me out to satiate your needs… I could tell you always walked away wanting more… something… different.”

You couldn’t speak to deny him, too overwhelmed at the feeling growing in your core as his foot pressed the seam of your trousers against you in just the right way, combined with how confused you were at how things had disintegrated to this. And frankly, he was right in a way, as much as you wanted to claim otherwise.

“Did you think me incapable? Awkward, bumbling old Cardi, couldn’t possibly know how to put you in your place… No use for anything other than a pity fuck-“

“Quit feeling fucking sorry for yourself!” You snapped, not feeling so remorseful this time as he put more pressure on you, seemingly

having figured out just the right spot to get you worked up. You resorted to hitting at his leg now, feeling humiliated.

Who the fuck does he think he is? I’m trying to do my job here.

“Aha.” He scoffed, taking no notice of your hits, “there you go again, doesn’t it feel better to let those emotions out?”

“Enough, Frater!” You attempted to sound stern, but with how flustered you felt, each movement of his leg disarming you, it came out as a pathetic plea.

Attempting to swing your leg over his foot to get away - the one that wasn’t occupied toying with your cunt - you slipped from your seat, landing to sit on the ground with an unceremonious thud.

With a deadpan expression, Copia wasted no time in pressing his foot against your throat, pressing your head back against the couch. You were sure the pattern of his soles would leave a mark on your skin.

“Now who is being a fucking brat, hm?”

You loathed to admit this was doing something to you. After all his childish behaviour you didn’t owe him this - he owed you, and the rest of your team numerous apologies.

You glared up at him, your breath faltering slightly as he put pressure on your windpipe.

“Fuck you. You’ve always been so fucking spoilt. Too blind to see how good you have it.” You rasped, unable to hold back your frustrations. You hated this. Hated the way you thought about someone you’d held dear for so long, hated the venom coming out of your mouth, but it was truth, to you.

You hated that he felt good about any of this arguing.

You coughed as he took his foot from your neck, standing above you with that smug smile on his face.

It caught you off guard when you felt the sting of leather against your cheek, the slap ringing in your ear.

You looked at him aghast, unable to determine if you felt that way because he hit you, or because it ignited something in you.

“What happened to you being forgiving?” You snarled, rubbing at your face.

He spoke softly again, as if you were having a friendly chat, “Forgiveness comes after contrition, sorella.”

“I’m not playing this stupid game. We have work to do.”

“You leave when I dismiss you.”

Fuck.

It took you a second to shake off the thrill the tone of his voice stoked at within you, shaking your head as you tried to stand.

“I know you sorella, I see what you want. What you’d been seeking out elsewhere.” His voice was gravelly as he kept you pushed down.

“We can… help each other out, hm? Like friends should…”

His gloved hand grasped at your hair, earning a protest from you, quickly muffled as he pulled you face first between his legs. The zip of his trousers only served to irritate the reddened skin on your cheek more. But you were easily distracted by what lay beneath. He was hard.

He really was enjoying this.

Swatting at his legs again you found yourself dumbfounded when he finally pushed you away with a snarl.

“Are you going to fight me every step of the way, sorella? When I do all this for you, hm? Go on. Show your Frater how sorry you are.” He mocked, gesturing at the bulge in his pants, and you scoffed. Before you could tell him he was being insane he slapped you again, the other side of your face this time.

He grinned as you let out a whimper, your eyes stinging with tears from the impact.

Warring with your mixed emotions, you unenthusiastically undid his fly, followed by his buttons. You trained your eyes on the floor, feeling humiliated.

Of course he wasn’t wearing underwear, you had to hold back a scoff as he shoved your hand aside to free his cock, evidently impatient with your reluctance.

You’d never taken time to look too closely at it. But now, even trying to avert your eyes, you could tell it looked throbbing, imposing and angry.

Much like him. Probably just as bitter.

Sensing something unsaid, he smacked you again.

“Focus, sorella.”

Pulling you forward by your hair again, he pressed his length against your face, hand tightening in an unspoken demand.

Placing your hands on his thighs in an attempt to steady yourself, you relented, squeezing your eyes shut as you offered your lips to him.

He buried himself within your mouth, hitting the back of your throat. Quickly you had to adjust your breathing to compensate.

With a glance up at him, your eyes widened. You could see it in his eyes again, looking at you the way he used to, his expression soft. But it hardly lasted a split second before he pulled your hair, prompting you to start moving.

You tried to maintain some form of pacing as you sucked him, made difficult with his relentless thrusts ensuring you took every inch of him. You choked while he fucked your throat selfishly, his movements not giving you opportunity to work him with your tongue as you would with any other partner. Your vision blurred, feeling tears track down your cheeks.

“You think I don’t know what you need?" He grunted, burying himself to the hilt and holding you in place.

You tried to ignore the want burning within you as you felt his cock twitching at the back of your throat.

Wincing, you tapped at his legs as it became harder to breathe, a pleading sob escaping you.

"Hmph." He muttered, pulling your head back again. You spluttered, gasping for air for the few seconds respite he allowed you before pulling you back. He slowed this time, staring down at you, biting on his lip. You were conflicted - torn between making a show of it, showing him what you could really do, or protesting against his treatment of you.

He cursed at you as you slowly swirled your tongue around the tip of his cock, causing his whole body to twitch. Feeling spite building within you again, you repeated the motion a few more times, causing him to hiss at the overstimulation.

“Sorella, you little-“ he grunted, shoving himself down your throat again, pinching your nose.

You felt your blood run cold, terrified as you tried to fight for breath.

“Look at me.”

You complied, your eyes quickly meeting his as you grew dizzy, your head pounding. He stared you down coolly as he let go of your nose. He wasted no time in fucking your throat again, ignoring your chokes and gags, not giving you any opportunity to recover.

“Always knew your mouth was good for more than pestering me about damned papers."

Your stomach flipped as you gagged once again, terrified you were going to throw up, your throat and jaw beginning to ache.

As he pulled you in once more, spilling himself in the back of your throat, you were surprised he hadn’t busted your lip with how forceful he had been.

He pulled you away harshly, letting free his grasp on your hair causing you to slump back against the couch, crying and spluttering.

He had you terrified a few times, convinced he would not let you up for air, that he would let you black out.

He wouldn’t have… would he?

You didn’t know anymore, and it was enough to make you sob harder.

His shoulders shuddered as he steadied his breath, pupils blown as he stared down at you, at the streaks of ruined makeup running down your cheeks, the spit and cum stringing from your chin.

“Oh doll… you look perfect.” He crooned, gripping your chin. You let out something between a choke and a sob as he forced you to look up at him.

“Isn’t this so much better than fighting, hm?”

You screwed up your nose in disagreement, feeling the heat in your face radiating down your neck with every humiliating jab he levied at you.

"Now..." he murmured, fixing his trousers as he knelt on the floor before you. He grasped at your waistband, and suddenly you felt the urge to resist growing within you again. Before he could pull at your trousers, you kicked and squirmed against him.

"No. Enough!" You snarled, voice hoarse as you rolled onto your hands and knees, making a shaky attempt to crawl away.

He growled, grasping you by your shoes to pull you back into place. In the scuffle, he managed to yank your shoes off, ignoring your attempts to shove him away as he harshly tugged again at your trousers.

What a shit day to wear the ones with an elasticated waist.

It was too late for any modesty, and yet you still squirmed and kicked at him. It was no use, of course, but a sick part of you didn’t want to lie down and make this easy for him. After all, hadn’t he been making work so difficult for you lately with his petulance?

Practically growling, he lunged at you, painfully pinning you down with one hand on your shoulder, your face shoved in the carpet as he made quick work of discarding your trousers.

It shouldn’t feel so thrilling, your cunt shouldn’t be throbbing so much in response to this bizarre behaviour.

You heard him suck in a breath between his teeth, examining your underwear - plain black, a little lace round the edges, nothing to write home about. Your face burned again as he tugged at them, and you reached behind your back to try and stop him.

He squeezed your shoulder harder.

That’ll bruise.

For a split second you felt relief as his other hand moved away from your underwear, and you managed to glance back.

Of course he wasn’t giving up. You held your breath as you watched him reach for something, rifling through the disorganised mess on his desk.

You heard his soft “aha” when he found what he was looking for, the ornate letter opener glinting in the light.

“No don’t you da-“

Too late, with two harsh rips, he pulled the dull blade through the fabric. He stared you down clinically, shoving the ruined panties in his pocket.

He leaned back to examine you, now fully exposed from the waist down, save for your socks.

“Good… it is nice to have options, is it not?” he mused, using his knee to spread your legs apart, shuffling between them, “next time you interrupt me… what shall it be, eh? My cock or your panties?”

You bit your tongue, pressing your face into the carpet again only to hide how the blood rushed to your cheeks, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

He leaned over you, breath hot on your neck.

“And do not think I did not notice how wet they are.”

You thrashed again, as he easily pulled you over to lie on your back, one hand splayed across your chest to keep you pinned in place. Gritting your teeth you tried to squeeze your thighs together. It was short lived before he adjusted his position, his breaths deep as he clawed your legs apart, kneeling on your thighs to keep you spread.

You couldn’t ignore the chill that raced down your spine watching him bring his hand to his mouth, teeth clamping down on the leather to pull off his glove, tossing it aside. Deep down you were terrified, but something kept you rooted to the carpet, holding your breath as you watched him.

He’s beautiful.

Meeting your wide eyes, he laughed again.

“This isn’t funny, Copia.”

He rolled his eyes, spitting between your legs causing you to twitch. You let out a conflicted groan - disgust and arousal warring within you.

“No? You’ve been proving me right every step of the way. Letting me show you your place.”

He rubbed at you, coating his fingers in his spit and your slick.

You whined as he pushed three fingers in with only a little resistance. No working your way up to it today, it seemed.

“Oh…” you gasped as he curled his fingers, moving his thumb to circle your clit. He hadn’t even started and it all felt too much for you, too intense.

But he froze. You hadn’t noticed yourself squeezing your eyes closed, but upon opening them, he was smirking at the confusion in your furrowed brows.

“Take what you need, doll. Lord knows everyone else has.” His tone was stern, challenging, but your heart ached at his words. Deep down you could sense the hurt within him, and for a second you wanted to forget this whole sordid scene and comfort your friend.

Until the hand across your chest moved, as if he could tell what you were thinking. Snaking his hand under your shirt, he shoved your bra up, pinching your nipple hard between his finger and thumb.

“Do you need me to tell you again?”

He didn’t. The pain of his grip as he switched between heavily groping at each of your breasts caused you to buck your hips, begrudgingly grinding against his hand.

It wasn’t long before you lost yourself, staring at the ceiling as your hips moved rhythmically against his hand. He was almost statuesque, callous as his gaze bore down on you. You would have hardly thought he had any interest in what you were doing if it weren’t for how the rise and fall of his chest seemed to pick up speed, his breaths coming quick and shallow.

“I’d have never pictured this years ago…” he mulled, savouring your moans as he suddenly switched from pulling at your breasts to lightly circling each nipple.

“Oh. Oh fuck.” You cried out, attempting to tune out his taunts and the squelch of your wet cunt against his fingers as you chased deliverance from the burning pressure growing in your core. With one hand you gripped the plush carpet, trying to find purchase to aid your movements, with the other you covered your face, unwilling to let him see you fall apart like this.

“…That you’d be so needy.”

“I don’t need you.” You snarled, chiding yourself for letting him get a reaction from you.

“Hah,” he jeered, flicking his thumb over your clit, forcing a sob from you, as if you needed to be reminded of what you were doing, “don’t need me, no? Fucking yourself stupid on my hand, get up and walk away if you don’t need me.”

You whined, fighting back the urge to curse at him. It was a lose-lose situation. He grew irritated if you spoke back, or irritated when you ignored his ridicule. Either way you were getting him worked up again.

You reverted to trying to ignore him. If he was so insistent that he would provide you with an outlet, you were going to take advantage of the offer.

“As I thought. Always so proud sorella, who could think someone so orderly was just begging to be ruined?”

“Shit-“

You spasmed, clenching around his fingers, squeezing your eyes shut as you came. You let out a few cracked sobs, your throat still aching.

It had hit you quicker than you’d expected, begrudgingly admitting to yourself that his taunts had something to do with it.

The bliss of your orgasm was short lived, quashed by the shame and embarrassment that washed over you as you caught your breath, staring at the ceiling.

As a sense of clarity, and horror, crept into your mind, Copia tutted. He flexed his fingers, causing you to jump.

“No, no no no…” you whispered, lazily shaking your head. It was too much, too soon, too sensitive.

“I decide when you are done. Understand?”

“No, I- ah-” You gasped as he languidly pumped his fingers inside you, not prepared to let you come to your senses and call this off just yet. He pulled his hand out from under your shirt, reaching up to press his thumb across your lips, hushing your cries as he leaned over you.

Your thighs felt numb under his weight, shaking with every flick of his thumb over your swollen clit.

“Are you still sorry? For how you dared to speak to your dear Frater?” He murmured, rocking his fingers back and forward within you, ignoring your gasps.

“Mmhm.” You nodded, eyes watering as your core burned again, insufferably, this time.

“Good… good….” he whispered, pressing the palm of his hand over your lips, “then you will give me another.”

There was no question, only a demand as he slipped a fourth finger within you, stretching you to your limit almost painfully. You groaned as he pumped against the wet heat of your cunt, his eyes alight as you both felt another trickle of wetness gush from you.

“That’s it, sorella.” he cooed, ignoring the strangled noises that died in your covered mouth.

It wasn’t long before he had found just the right movements to get your back arching from the carpet, your hands grasping at his arms to no avail, body jerking in response to each swipe of his thumb over your clit.

Your vision became dark, spotted from squeezing your eyes shut so hard, as if not seeing his actions would save you from the aching tightness in your gut.

Your entire body seemed to tense again as he dragged you over the edge, all but kicking and screaming. Your muted whines only served to paint that smug grin back on his face.

He waited until your orgasm had passed, until your pussy stopped pulsing around his fingers before he withdrew.

You were exhausted, your eyes fluttering shut. You didn’t resist him as he uncovered your mouth, his gloved hand giving way to the one coated with your slick, fingers prodding at your lips in a silent demand. You let your lips part, idly licking and sucking each digit, your face burning red as you tasted your own release on them.

“Look at me.” Copia growled, snapping you away from your trance. Your eyes lazily moved to meet his as you licked the last trace of yourself from his hand.

He leaned back, lips parted as he studied you, his breathing still shallow, his paints smudged from biting his lip.

You felt too exposed, could feel yourself wanting to sink into the ground to escape his cold stare.

Shifting onto your elbows you tried to think of any feeble reason to excuse yourself.

“No you don’t.” he snarled, quickly slipping his jacket from his shoulders, throwing it onto the couch. You caught the sheen of sweat on his forehead glint in the light as he frowned.

He gripped your shoulders, pushing you back down, leaning across you, his lips ghosting over your neck.

“You got two, it is only fair that I get another, no?” He whispered, grinding himself against you. He was rock hard again.

You bit your lip. You had always thought him a one and done kind of guy. But then again, this whole encounter was showing just how much you had underestimated him throughout the years.

You let out a surprised squeak as he kissed you. This was familiar territory, just as needy as your previous intoxicated encounters with him.

You let yourself get carried away in the most tender moment you’d had since walking into his office earlier, your arms wrapping around his neck as he continued to rut against you.

It was over the second he sensed you growing complacent, pulling your arms away and pinning them to the floor. After breaking the kiss you caught him staring at your parted lips.

You were sure he was going to kiss you again, closing your eyes and bracing yourself, gasping as the rough fabric of his jeans dragged a moan from your throat.

He spat, your eyes snapping open at the sound, choking as it hit your already raw throat.

“Bastard!” you spluttered, rage and humiliation flooding your chest as he snickered, his hands moving back to his trousers, freeing himself again.

“You didn’t like it? No?” He jeered, a low moan rumbling in his throat as he rubbed his cock against your wet folds.

“But yet you keep swallowing everything I give you… Needy little puttana…”

You couldn’t hide the way your eyes rolled back at his words, biting your lip as he pushed into you, taking his time to savour the feeling as he sheathed himself within you.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d fucked each other, evidently something he was pondering too in that moment as his hands grasped at your waist.

“Just as inviting as I remember, sorella…”

He waited, but you didn’t return the compliment - his ego didn’t need it, as much as he had been feeling sorry for himself these days.

Grunting, he gripped your thighs, pushing your knees towards your chest, seemingly giving up on trying to provoke you with words. Finally, he began to move, his pace not gentle like it had once been. The room filled with the noise of his hips slapping against the back of your thighs, and your mewling as he plunged himself deep, over and over into your sensitive cunt.

“Who is doing this for you nowadays?” He grunted, almost conversationally, the question barely discernible over your whimpering.

“No-one…”

“Really?” While he kept his expression schooled, you could tell by the way his thrusting faltered that the answer surprised him. He tutted, cooing sarcastically.

“You poor deprived thing you… who was the last?”

You frowned at his condescension, your throat scratching as you answered, “There was that bishop for a while…”

“Oh yes. It’s been that long, hm?”

You nodded as he thrust into you harder at the mention of him, his grip on the backs of your thighs making you wince.

“What was it he called you again? ‘Daddy’s cumslut?’” He scoffed, spitting at you again. Your confusion and embarrassment served to distract you from the disgust you should have felt from his spit landing against your cheek.

“How do you know-”

“-I heard the pair of you, in one of the supply closets. The party after the Impera livestream.” He grunted, his greying hair falling over his eyes as voice dropped to a low snarl that sent a shiver straight to your core, “You don’t know how often that memory kept me going… those long nights on the tour bus.”

He chuckled, biting on his lip as he felt your walls tighten around his cock at the idea.

“Is that what you need, hm? A daddy?” He mocked, slowing his pace as if to torment you.

“No. Oh fuck.”

“What do you need then?”

You knew what he wanted you to say, and knew you were avoiding giving the satisfaction of saying it aloud. Shaking his head, he stilled, the tip of his cock just at your entrance. As you squirmed, moaning at the loss of him, he pushed down on your thighs, keeping you pinned and deprived.

“Frater… please…”

That did the trick, a smug smile growing on his lips as he thrust into you fully. You covered your mouth, gasping and moaning as his hips snapped with a new found sense of urgency, each movement leaving you trembling.

“Did you let him fill you up? Like a good little slut, hm?”

You weren’t going to dignify him with a response, changing your mind when he leaned over, raising his hand to you.

Flinching, you cried out. “No!”

The slap didn’t land, instead he gripped your face, fingers digging into your cheek.

“Oh, really?” He scoffed. If you didn’t know him so well you might have missed the hesitation barely masked in his tone - deep down he was unsure he wanted to know the answer. Copia had always been insistent that the two of you careful when you had hooked up before. It only served to make you feel just that little bit more wrong about how he was fucking you now, the idea of stopping to find a condom hadn’t even been a consideration in the heat of the moment.

“No…” you trailed off, glancing away as he looked at you quizzically, his harsh pumping slowing again, as if to demand an explanation.

“He just..” you groaned in embarrassment, tilting your head back to avoid Copia’s eyes “he always finished in my mouth…”

You whimpered, feeling how that made his cock twitch deep within you as he hissed.

“Puttana.”

Your face burned red.

“Fuck off. Oh-“ you groaned as he rutted into you harder, his eyes snapping away from yours to watch your pussy engulfing his cock with each snap of his hips, seemingly mesmerised.

He murmured, his low tone becoming harder to maintain as his voice cracked.

“What a waste. If… fuck, sorella…” you could hear him hold back small whimpers as he began to lose his restraint, the sounds barely noticeable as you threw your head back, muffling your cries with each stroke of his cock against your walls.

“If I’d known… back then… I’d have filled this pretty pussy every time…”

“Copia…” you growled, attempting to protest the idea, but your voice lacked conviction, betraying the fact you were desperate now to feel him flood you.

The sweat beading on his forehead had trickled slightly, smudging the paint around his eyes. His pounding was becoming more erratic, cursing as your cunt pulsed around his cock, his breath hitching in his throat.

“My sorella… my pain in the ass… my little fucking brat.” he muttered venomously between thrusts, driving himself deep within you once more as he stilled.

Your hands clutched at the carpet as his cock twitched, coating your walls with his spend.

You stared up at him, bewildered. Your chest ached, watching as he panted for air, his eyes squeezed shut, his hair now in disarray.

With a deep sigh, he opened his eyes, not to meet your gaze but to watch as his cum lazily seeped from your cunt as he pulled out.

As he looked you in the eyes, you found yourself desperate for him to speak, in spite of how you’d wanted him to be quiet for most of this ordeal. You’d never admit it to him now, but you wanted praise, wanted to be told how well you did.

“See, sorella? How well I know you? Know what you need?”

He smirked. He knew what you wanted, and the bastard was not about to give it to you.

As he righted his clothes, you just about managed to shuffle away from him to grab your discarded trousers and shoes, quickly redressing yourself before slumping back to the floor, shattered. You held your tongue remembering why exactly you now had no option but to go commando, fearful that telling him he owed you new underwear might set him off again.

You stared blankly, trying to process it all, and waiting expectantly, hoping that he would change his mind and comfort you as you felt yourself crashing back to reality.

He kneeled, reaching towards the desk to grab the forms that had served as the catalyst for all of this from the corner of his desk, before sitting beside you on the floor, letting out an exhausted groan. You just about forced yourself to look at up him, face burning red.

With a smirk he scrawled his signature at the tabs you had neatly dotted across the document.

“Here you go.” He spoke surprisingly brightly, given the way your meeting panned out, tossing the papers onto your heaving chest.

“…Thank you, Frater.”

“Of course.” He stood, sliding on his jacket and grabbing his car keys from the desk. “Now, be a doll and swing by Mrs Psaltarian’s office, tell her I’ll be out of office for the evening. I trust I will see you tomorrow to further pester me with this administrative bullshit, yes?”

“Yeah…” you whispered, sounding unsure of yourself. A part of you still contemplated resigning.

Those thoughts were cut short when you found the tip of his shoe pressing against your windpipe again, his brow raised expectantly.

“Yes, Frater.”

He grinned. It troubled you to realise this was the calmest you had seen him in months.

“Okie dokie! Be good, sorella.”

You nodded shakily as he stepped over you, his smirk still unsettling you. He was up to something, but so exhausted, and so perplexed at what had just transpired you couldn’t begin to theorise on what it was.

You just about had time to clean yourself up before returning to your duties. Mrs Psaltarian was seemingly oblivious to your rattled state, too busy fussing about her precious Cardi.

Back in your office, ignoring the questioning eyes of other siblings wondering how your talk went, you leaned against the scanner, legs still trembling as you sent the forms to your computer, mind a million miles away. Or rather, your mind still down the hall, abandoned on the floor of his office.

You had attached them to the email for the pyro team, opening the attachment to run your eye over it one last time.

That pompous little fucker.

Each page signed with “Papa Emeritus IV” served to stoke at your irritation. No wonder he had been grinning. He was mocking you.

Barely holding back a growl you sighed, printing a fresh copy of the forms, resigned to trying to persuade him to sign it with his proper title tomorrow.

You would wear that nice purple v-neck blouse he always used to compliment. Maybe that would do the trick.