#impulse oneshot

[a1307s]

Companion #3

(Bart Allen)

[Art is not mine! Credit to onipilot]

Requested by: Feketealkony16

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 4,041

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Torture

Blood

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     It's been about a month since Bart and I started dating. It's been really nice. I like him a lot. I like waking up next to him, I like playing with his hair, and I really like our kisses. We have also been talking to Canary together which makes it easier to tell him things and has helped me not be so scared of him touching me.

     Another new thing has been us going on runs. My companion has a lot of energy and a lot of stamina which means he can be a handful when he isn't active enough. We talked it over with Canary last week and she recommended to find something we could do together. Something that could be altered so Bart could burn through his energy before bed. We ended up settling on nightly runs. I can work on my cardio and stamina and Bart can run circles to use up his energy.

     Like every night recently, we're on our nightly run. Bart is zooming around town, stopping for a beat when he passes to check up on me. He paces next to me, throwing up two thumbs up. I nod and he zooms away again. I'm not okay, my lungs are screaming, and I want to stop, but there were no missions today, so my companion has extra energy, which means this needs to be an extra-long run or else I won't get any sleep.

     It's hard to keep up with my breathing so I stop for a moment. I hunch over, hands on my knees, as I heave for air. The chilled oxygen burns my lungs, but it's nice to not have such labored breaths. I go to stand up straight again, but before I can there's a sharp pain in my side.

     "What the-" I turn to my right, where the pain is, and I'm meet with Luther's face. No... no, no, no, no, no.

     "Experiment 203," he says, tugging the knife from my side. The blade of the knife is green, the same shining green as the rock that haunts my nightmares. I stay frozen, unable to run or fight or scream. Within seconds the world goes black, the only thing I can feel is my body making contact with the pavement.

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     A light shines behind my closed eyes, slowly pulling me out of my sleep. I flutter my eyes, giving them a chance to adjust to the light. Where am I? Where's Bart? Why is it so cold? Luther! I snap my eyes open, my most recent memories flooding my mind. Luther, the knife, the concert. 

     I scan my surroundings. Glass separates me from the room. It's the dark, cold, red room. The room of my nightmares. The room I spent most of my life in. I slam my fists against the glass, my voice tearing from my throat as I yell. "Let me out! Let me out right now! I know you can hear me, Luther! Let me go!" Unsurprisingly, the glass doesn't break despite my strength. It never did before, it's not going to now. Despite that, I continue banging on the glass, trying to make it crack.

     "Experiment 203," Luther's voice comes through the speakers in the room. This isn't real. It can't be real. I'm just having a nightmare. Any minute now I'll wake up with Bart wrapped around me in bed. "Welcome back to Cadmus. You've been missed."

     Lair. Dumb, mean, abusive, lair. "Let me out!" I scream again, the feeling of blood trickling down my hands from the continued contact with the pod.

     "No can do, 203. We have more tests I need to run. Plus, now I have to restart everything. I can't have you acting like Project Kr." 

     "My name is Y/N! And my brother's name is Conner! Y/N and Conner! Conner and Y/N! We are people; We have names!" The glass in front of me is stained with my blood, the stain only getting worse as it rolls down the front of my - the pod.

     The speakers stay silent, the voice being replaced with the sounds of fans turning. The pod is filled with gas, making it hard to stay awake, to stay fighting. My fists get slow, and my eyes get heavy as I breathe in the air. I can't pass out again. I can't be vulnerable. I can't let Luther get the upper hand. Even with my best efforts, the world starts going dark again. No, I can't live like this again. I can't go through all this again.

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     The end of Luther's knife dugs into my bone again, the tip of it sliding against the hard material. "What's your name?"

     "Y/N." 

     The knife is pulled out before quickly being plunged back into me. This time, the tip of it digs between two bones. Luther tips the knife, forcing the bones apart slightly, causing new waves of pain to ripple through the numbing pain. Tears trickle from my eyes as I tug against my restraints, the rough edges of the kryptonite digging into my wrists and ankles again. Blood trickles from the new wound. I've grown used to this, grown used to the only warmth coming from my blood escaping from my injuries.

     I don't know how long I've been here. How long I've been running tests so long that I can't even stand by the end of it. How long Luther has been tearing my flesh apart piece by piece.

     "What... is... your... name?" He asks again, removing the pain for a second before plunging the knife back into the same place, over and over again.

     I need it to stop. I need him to let me go back to my pod. I need to sleep. I need a break from the pain. "Experiment 203."

     "Good Job!" Luther cheers, removing the knife from me and letting it clutter onto the medical table I've been tied to for hours. Or maybe days. Maybe even months. I can't tell anymore. 

     It's been terrible, it's been tiring, it's been the same it was before Project K- Conner saved me. The same exhaustion I can't wash away from the overuse of my abilities and the under-given chance to sleep. The same exhaustion from lack of food, lack of light, lack of anything except pod, tests, and pain.

     Occasionally anger bubbles in me. At first anger at Luther, and now anger at the league. Where are they? Why haven't they saved me? Do they not care? Does Bart not care? Has he already moved on? Cut his losses? Has he found a new companion? A new relationship? Is he someone else's boyfriend? Does he miss me? Does he think of me?

     "Are you thinking of your little speedster again?" Luther asks, his eyes as dark as ever as he pats at my wounds with a cloth. He says he doesn't like blood in my pod because it could ruin the wiring and 'we can't have a dysfunctional cage for you, can we?'.

     I stay silent, focusing on the lights above my head. They're bright and burn my eyes when I look into them, but I don't care. At least this is pain I can control. The only thing I can control.

     "He's not coming for you, and neither is Project Kr. Do you really think they'd risk getting captured to save you again? You're worthless to everyone but me. I'm the only one that sees any worth in you, the only one that cares. The league couldn't care less about-"

     "I know," I whisper, cutting Luther off as I blink my eyes, giving them a little rest from the light above. He's wrong... maybe. Probably... probably not. If he was wrong, why would I still be here? If he was wrong, why would I still be hurting? Bleeding? At least he cares, right? If he didn't care he wouldn't put so much effort, some much time into me. "Thank you," I murmur, pushing down a whimper as he dips the cloth into one of the newer wounds.

     "What a good pet," Luther says, moving closer so I can see his face. His eyes aren't dark anymore, they're almost sparking as he smiles at me. "Good, good pet," he adds, running his hands through my blood-soaked hair. At least I know Luther still cares.

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     The metal infused with kryptonite wrapped around my neck and wrists clink around as I fall to my knees. In the past while Luther has been testing my jumps, he wants me to jump higher, he wants me to fall harder, make the Earth shake more. He thinks if I work on it enough my genes will unlock flight so I'm better than Project Kr - Conner. My brother's name is Conner.

     I stay curled up on the floor, my breathing sounding louder than it is as it echoes off the walls. "Luther?" I call after a pause of silence. Usually, he calls in, and tells me to do it again or that I failed or that I did good. Maybe I did really bad and that's why he's not talking. I probably did badly, I'm exhausted, all my limbs shaking from the constant use of my abilities. I did bad.

     The button for the speakers is pressed in the control unit, sending the familiar clicking sound throughout the room. "Y/N?" A voice calls, but it's not Luther's.

     This is a test, a new test. Luther has run this test a few times to 'see if I'm really fixed or if we need another lesson'. I passed it last time - it only took six tries - so I thought it would be done with. Hope used to flow through me when I would hear someone call it out, but that's been beaten out of me, beaten out of my head, my soul, my heart. I'm not being saved, Luther just pulled a doctor and had them call for me to see if I've learned my lesson. 

     "I'm Experiment 203," I answer, turning my head towards the control unit. It's a blackout screen, so Luther can see me, but I can't see him. I did good, I passed the test, and I will get chocolate before going back to my pod today. Maybe I'll get lucky and there will be almonds in it like last time. I hope so.

     Another click, but silence passes over the speakers. "Oh, Y/N," the voice finally says, it cracking as the person speaks.

     "I am Experiment 203. I am Luther's, I belong to him." Why are they still going? I passed the test; I said the right thing. I want my chocolate, my pod, my sleep. I am being good, so why won't Luther give me my reward? 

     I stay still, waiting for Luther's voice. The heavy door behind me opens, filling the room with screeching as it moves on its hinges. "Luther!" I call, trying to be cheery and smile despite my pain. He likes it when I'm cheery, he says it makes me look like a cute puppy dog. It takes a second for my eyes to adjust to the new, brighter light filling the room from the open doorway. When they do focus, it's very much not Luther standing in it. 

     Standing in front of me is someone short, someone skinner than Luther. Where is Luther? Who is this? Is Luther, okay? Why is this person here? Why isn't Luther here? Did I fail? Is this my punishment?

     "Y/N?" They call taking a step into the room.

     "I am Experiment 203!" I try to yell, but it doesn't work out that way. I struggle to my feet, moving as far back as my restraints will let me. Kryptonite digs into my skin as I pull against my restraints, the edges reopening old wounds and causing fresh blood to start coating my skin. My trembling now is a mix of exhaustion and fear.

     The person takes another step forward, the ends of their hair almost glowing from the light behind them. "Y/N?" They repeat, my vision is filled with the green eyes from my dreams. "Are... you're... oh my god," Bart mutters, quickly walking up to me. His hands hover over me as he moves them around, his mouth falling open and shut as he panics.

     "I am Experiment 203," I repeat, trying - but failing - to pull back more.

     "No, your... your name is Y/N," he says, his hands settling on the restraints around my wrists. His own hands vibrate for a while before my shocks drop off my wrists and land at my feet.

     Once again, I try to tug against my collar to get further away from him. This isn't real, this is a test, and I'm failing. I don't want to fail, I don't want to hurt, I want my chocolate. Bart steps closer, his hands moving up to my last restraint.

     "No! Go away!" I yell, shoving him away from me. From my overuse today, my strength isn't super good, and he only ends up on the other side of the room instead of through the wall like I meant. That's not good. I definitely failed this test. I'm not getting my chocolate.

     "Bart!" Someone yells, quickly joining us in the test room. Just like last time, it's Birdman, in the same repulsive blue spandex suit. This dumb bird. He needs to go away. They all need to go away. I'm too tired to pass this test. It's not fair. "Y/N!" Birdman yells, standing up after checking on the speedster. 

     "Go! Away!" I yell again, trying to put more strength behind each word. 

     Birdman's face falls as he snaps open one of his pockets. "I'm so sorry," he says, pulling out a green shiny rock. I am so sick of kryptonite, I'm so sick of people, of men, of heroes, of life. "It'll get better," he says, pushing the rock against my head. The darkness I've grown used to envelopes my mind, making me grateful for the rest even though I'm furious with the world.

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     Light peeks through my eyelids, pulling me from sleep like usual. Unlike usual, this light is a lot brighter than the small bulb in my pod. I take my time opening my eyes, eating up the last few seconds of sleep. Who knows the next time I get to sleep? The next time I get to rest. What do I have to do today? Where I'm even at. It's important to enjoy the peace when I have it, especially since I don't get a lot of it anymore. Plus, who knows where Luther has transported me to or what this new place has in store for me?

     When I finally open my eyes, I'm met with a pale yellow wall. It takes a second, but I realize I'm not in my pod. I'm in a bed, with blankets on top of me and pillows behind my head and back. What kind of test is this? What does Luther want me to do in this situation?

     I glance around the room, being met with different furniture. Luther must have really gotten into my head because this room is an exact couple of my old bedroom, from my old life, from when I was a hero and not Luther's pet, his weapon. Fear and anger start stirring in my chest as I take in the space. I don't know what I'm supposed to do, I don't know why Luther is using this room, I don't know why I'm here.

     "Are you okay? Do you want me to go get Conner?" A voice says from next to me, causing my fear to overthrow my anger. I snap my head to the right, being met with an exhausted-looking Bart who's sprawled out in a lounge chair. Out of instinct, I try to tug myself away from him, but I get stopped by restraints around my wrist. "Oh shit, ya, sorry. You kept trying to fight us as we were giving you medical care, so Nightwing put restraints on," Bart says, leaning forward and snapping the restraints off my wrists before placing them on the nightstand. "Nightwing doesn't want them off until you get a psychological scan, but he can fuck off for all that I care."

     I stay silent, frozen in my spot. I am really confused. What is this test supposed to be about? Am I supposed to fight Bart? Is that what Luther wants?

     Bart settles back into his chair, his posture forgotten as he slumps, and his head propped up so he can look at me. His eyes are red and puffy, his cheeks still wet and his breath still hiccupping as he breathes. 

     "Why are you crying?" I ask, turning my attention away from him. My chest is tight, like it used to be when I would look at him; when he was real, when he wasn't just a dream or an illusion for Luther to use against me. This isn't real, Bart isn't real, this is a test. I need to figure out the answer.

     "A lot of reasons," he says, his eyes still burning into the side of my face. He isn't real, this is a test. Luther wants an answer, the correct answer. Focus. "For starters, you're finally safe. I can see you, hear your voice, finally touch you again," he says, leaning forward so most of him is propped up on the bed, next to my legs. I turn my attention back towards him, watching as his hands hover by my face. Is he going to hit me? Scratch me? Break my nose? "Can I touch you?" he asks, his eyes jumping around my face.

     "What?" I ask before I can stop myself. Of course, he can touch me, I don't get a say in it. I don't get a say in anything. People - especially Luther - get to do as they please. I either let them and get it over with, or I get a bigger punishment for trying to stop it.

     "Can I touch you?" He repeats, his hands still and his eyes blinking rapidly in an attempt to push back the growing tears. "I don't... know if you remember, but I promised I would ask before I touched you."

     I do remember that, somewhat. "Oh," I whisper, looking away from him. I do not like this test. It's worse than any of the other ones I've done. I glance at him before focusing on the wall in front of me again. "I don't want to be touched."

     "Okay," he murmurs, dropping his hands to the bed, making sure not to come in contact with me. 

     I snap my head towards him, looking him over, waiting for the punishment for saying no, but nothing comes. Bart just sits there, looking at me, repeatedly blinking even though it doesn't stop the water from dripping down his face. "You're not going to punish me?" I ask slowly, confusion fogging my head. Why isn't he hitting me? Punishing me? Hurting me? I purposely failed the test and yet nothing is happening. How am I supposed to focus on my test if I'm not hurt? I need the pain to remind me this is fake.

     "Of course not. It's your body, if you don't want me touching it, I won't," he answers, leaning back in his chair with his face buried in his hands.

     I watch carefully as he rubs his face and pushes out a big sigh, a quiet scream squeezing out with it. "It's Luther's body," I mumble, scrunching up the bedding in my hands. Luther's body, Luther's pet, Experiment 203, that is who I am, what I am. I am a weapon, not a human.

     "It's your body, Y/N. It belongs to you, it is yours," Bart answers, his tone exhausted but firm. "You are a person, with basic human rights." I look back at the boy next to me, his arm resting across his face as he looks at the ceiling. Tears roll off his jaw, colliding with the chair under him. Why does he keep crying? He gets to see me, big deal, it's not like he cares... right? Maybe this isn't a test, maybe this is real.

     "Bart?" His name feels weird in my mouth after all this time. It feels bittersweet. It almost hurts saying it. 

     "Y/N?" He calls back, his arm dropping from his face and his head lifting to look at me.

     "Is this real or is it another test?" It's dumb to ask that. If it's a test I instantly fail and I'm going to have a long, painful night on that stupid table.

     "This is real," he answers softly, shifting in his chair. "Move over, please - if you want to! You don't have to."

     I look at him for a while, watching him watching me, before scooting over in the bed. Once I'm moved, Bart climbs into the bed next to me, making sure not to touch any part of my body as he settles in beside me. I settle on focusing on the wall again, letting my ears bounce around this place. There's a lot of talking, a lot of crying, throughout this place. Conner and Birdman are yelling at each other, about me, about my restraints. This is real. Bart is real. Everything is real. I settle on focusing on Bart's heart.

     "I don't remember your heart being so fast," I say, turning my attention to him for a second.

     "I'm just nervous," Bart murmurs, his gaze rolling over the room.

     "Why are you nervous?"

     He stays quiet for a while, gaze still running around before settling on me. "I'm nervous about what happened to... you... I'm nervous about how it's going to affect you now that you're back home, back safe, with me... I'm really nervous you don't love me anymore."

     "Do you not love me anymore?" I ask, blinking like Bart was earlier as I feel the tears forming in my eyes. Luther was right, my thoughts were right. Bart doesn't want me anymore. He did move on; he did forget about me. This is just him enforcing that. I was stupid to think for even a second that things were going to be okay, that someone other than Luther was going to care about me again.

     "Of course, I still love you!" Bart yells, causing me to jerk away in response. My eyes snap to him, making it more difficult to not cry. "You have been the only thing I could think of for the past two months. The only thing keeping me going. All my decisions, my actions, have been what I think would be best for you, what would be best to get you back. If I wasn't looking for you, I was curled up in your bed, thinking of you, clinging to your scent, your space, the only part of you I still had."

     Bart's face is scrunched up, eyebrows forward in anger, and hot tears rolling down his face again. He opens his mouth to say something else but ends up turning his head away from me. I sit still, waiting for him to turn back, as my own tears spill over. When he does, his face is relaxed, and his breathing is deep. "I'm... I am sorry for yelling. I am not mad at you, I am mad at the situation, which isn't your fault." Once again, he opens his mouth to say something but ends up closing it again. His jaw rolls for a while the almost silent clicking sound filling my ears. "I really love you and... I am mad that Luther hurt you, and I'm mad I lost you, and I'm mad I couldn't save you sooner. None of which is your fault."

     I let out a hum, turning my head forward, filling my vision with the pale yellow of my bedroom wall again. "I love you too," I whisper, sliding my hand on top of his. Instantly, Bart laces our fingers together. I am safe, I am loved, and this is real. Bart is real. I will be okay.

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[sunsburns]

pushing the drummer!luke castellan agenda tonight

[pezberrywhoreee]

'Controlled'

pairing: dom!janis imi'ike x sub!regina george

words: 2,685

content warning: harddom!janis, puppyslutsub!regina, bdsm, d/s dynamic, hypno kink, puppy play, forced puppyfication, cnc, strap, humiliation, corruption, oral fixation, orgasm torture, overstimulation, frottage and grinding, spitplay (drool)

summary: she doesn't know what's good for her, but she'll learn

a/n: any tist's or people that do hypno (whether erotic or not), i want to make it clear that it was an artistic choice to not include dialogue of each suggestion of triggers that janis gives. i thought that it would get too repetitive and it could've potentially made the reaction a little underwhelming. however, i fully understand that suggestions must be made in order for a trigger to essentially function. i don't know if im overthinking it or not but im really not out here trying to misrepresent the art that is hypnosis with my subpar knowledge :D

"What makes you think you can talk to me like that?" Janis stalked behind the taller girl, her voice eerily calm and collected by her neck.

Regina only scoffed in return, finding the girls attempt at intimidation humorous at best.

"Kneel right now" the brunette ordered, her low tone already tickling Regina's inherent need to submit to the woman. "Fucking kneel!" Janis raised her voice when the blonde gave her an unimpressed look.

They had been playfully arguing about how Regina would make a beautifully pliable puppy, to which the blonde counter argued that the brunette was crazy to think that she would ever have such little dignity, especially in front of someone who knew her to be so confident in the way she held herself.

It was when Regia kept insisting a little too seriously that Janis was "delusional" that the brunette knew it was the perfect time to start the scene.

Janis grabbed the girl's wrist and dragged her into their shared bedroom. Not one part of her was surprised when Regina didn't put up a fight. She would never admit it but she arguably preferred submission over dominance. It was very obvious but she liked to think that it wasn't.

The blonde held the fierce eye contact that the brunette threatened her with, her peripheral catching how the girl's chest heaved in rage. Regina couldn't help the way her eyebrow cocked along with the smirk that pulled at her lips, which ultimately drove Janis to quickly push the girl onto the floor by her head, forcing weight on it until her knees gave out and she dropped on the hardwood.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" the blonde exclaimed as Janis forced her arms behind her back and gave her a warning and expectant look to stay put.

"You don't know what's good for you, Regina" the brunette hummed, controlling the rage in her voice as she moved to retrieve a couple of accessories to aid what she was about to put the stubborn girl through.

After Regina collected herself from being called her name by her girlfriend, she scoffed once more at her words. "So you're going to force me to find out what is?" she challenged, cocking her head though she kept her position.

"Oh please, don't act like you don't want it!" Janis retorted as she stepped back in front of the kneeling girl.

Regina rolled her eyes because she knew that the girl was right.

Janis joined the blonde on the floor, sitting in front of her to bring her to eye level. "Deep breath" she commanded as she forced eye contact with the blonde once more. She smiled as the girl complied, seeing a bit of her reserve dissolving. "Relax your body, untense, let your knees and arms slack if they need to" the brunette tapped into the familiar soft, monotone part of her voice.

On the exhale, the blonde allowed her body to relax. Her head dropped slightly and her arms unlinked, falling by her sides. Her weight fell into her hips, pushing down into her thighs.

"Good girl, one more time~". Janis encouraged as she mirrored the action, hopefully pushing the girl to feel more comfortable. "Let those eyes fall, listen to your body", she hummed as she kept a close eye on the girl's breathing.

Regina slumped on the exhale further. Her head closer to lolling but still not fully dropped, her stomach more pushed out as her chest hallowed.

"Such a good girl. Every time I say 'good girl' you are going to feel yourself relaxing deeper into that safe, secure place. Don't resist it" the brunette continued, smiling as she saw the girls eyes starting to flutter shut and become one with her breathing.

"Now, every time I touch your forehead and say 'stop' you're going to return to your normal state. Your breathing will be normal as if you just woke up. When you hear a snap, you're going to fall two times deeper into that safe, dumb, thoughtless place. Nod if you understand". Janis hummed, pleased with how quickly the girl was falling into trance.

The blonde gave a slight nod, showing the brunette that she was actively listening.

She brought her finger up and tapped her forehead, humming the release trigger. Regina blinked her eyes open, a tired smile on her face as the brunette came into sight again. "Very good~. How was that, baby?", she asked as her hand reached to stroke at the girl's thigh.

Regina gave her a less powerful scoff. "Do you think this is actually going to work?" she got out just before the snap resonated in her head and she instantly dropped deeper into trance.

Janis let a soft laugh leave her at the irony of the moment. "I'm going to touch your forehead and you will undress unknowingly. It will feel instinctual and natural and you will not realise until I point it out. You're doing so well, baby" she suggested, her tone becoming a bit more commanding, but still recognisable to the tranced girl.

As soon as Regina felt the touch to her face, her eyes fluttered open and she took in the girl's pleased face. She reached for the bottom of her shirt, pulling it over her head and handing it to the girl in front of her. Janis took it with a chuckle at which Regina furrowed her brows.

The blonde pushed back on her ass to peel off the boxers that she was wearing, handing that to the girl too. Janis took a moment to acknowledge the light sheen of arousal that glazed the girls cunt. She waited for Regina to kneel again before piping up.

"Notice anything?" the brunette gestured to her body, fighting a smirk.

Regina looked down, taken aback by her naked state. "Oh fuck...I'm getting wet" she mumbled, feeling the growing throbbing at her cunt. She fought the confusing urge to let her hands fall between her thighs.

Janis let that smirk make itself known. "Well that was quick, huh?" she teased lightly.

"Shut the fuck up—" Regina just managed to retort before that snap triggered that familiar response that now become muscle memory.

The brunette took this opportunity to secure a leather collar around the girl's neck, making sure it wasn't too tight but tight enough to always be felt. She also slipped a leather harness onto her hips, fastening the buckles in the front snugly.

"When I touch your nose and say 'puppy' you are going to only think puppy thoughts. You will act like a puppy and nothing will exist besides following commands and being a good girl.". Janis hummed, feeling herself really getting into it now.

The trigger elicited a low whine in the back of Regina's throat as she came back into something akin to reality. These puppy-like sounds continued as she planted her fist against the ground and pushed her back up, now on all fours with her back arched.

She briefly shook her head, as if to rid of the hazy feeling in her body which Janis found endearing.

The blonde looked up at the shorter girl, her tongue threatening to loll out.

"Let go, puppy" Janis encouraged softly as she moved to stand back up. She hummed when the girl let her tongue hang out, little pants accompanying the act.

Regina started to barely noticeably wiggle her ass along with her panting but was encouraged by the hummed "good girl" that once again fell from the brunette's lips.

The brunette watched as the girl began to lightly shake from the amount of attention she was getting, a satisfied grin appearing on her face.

She reached for the attachable toy that connects to the harness as she spoke. "Puppy's don't think. You're too dumb to think on your own and you need someone smarter to think for you, isn't that right?" Janis hummed, her tone now mocking.

The blonde nodded, a wide smile obstructed by her tongue.

"Such a good girl-" she hummed before tapping the girls forehead again "in heat: 8". A shit eating grin appeared on the brunette's face as she attached the toy into the rings of the harness, quickly averting her attention back to the panting girl.

Regina sunk into the ground with another throaty whine, her tongue disappearing periodically to whimper. She looked up at the other girl with begging eyes, her ass pushed out.

"Please, mommy" she whined as she dropped her head, hopefully muffling the desperate plea.

The brunette tried to hide her surprise at the infrequent honourific that so beautifully rolled off the girls tongue.

"Uh uh, puppy's don't speak, you know that! Be a good girl and bark for me. In heat: 9" the brunette played around with triggers, laughing sadistically when the girl quietly barked as her face was tapped.

Janis marveled at the panting girl, in love with how deep in her mind she already was. Her eyes caught how the blonde was pushing her hips into the air, cocking a brow.

"Come here, puppy!" her voice jumped up an octave as she sat down on the edge of the bed, patting her lap enticingly.

The brunette hummed contently as Regina crawled over to her without question. She was rewarded with a few a scritches behind her ear which she leaned into. Janis couldn't help but find it endearing to see the girl give into what they both knew was good for her.

"What are we going to do with this mouth?" Janis teased as she ran her fingers along Regina's lips, pushing them into her practically drooling mouth and collecting some saliva to spread on her chin.

She chuckled as the vibrating girl's eyes went between her face and the toy resting on her pelvis, her eyes intense and eager.

Janis gave her a challenging look at which the blonde took the opportunity to nuzzle against the leather decorating the girl's hips, whining while doing so.

"Oh—do you want something?" the brunette taunted as she continued to softly stroke the girl's head. Regina let her tongue loll out once more before giving a low growl in frustration.

Janis knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to not think. She needed to turn her brain off. Now there's no reality in where she would admit this but the brunette could see right through her, and besides they had excessively talked about it during negotiation.

"Is the puppy all bothered? Is she not getting what she wants?" the brunette mocked as she slipped her shin between the girl's spread legs. She gave her a gentle nod as desperate eyes looked up at her.

With a growl the blonde lowered her cunt against the girl's leg, her eyes fluttering and another whine resounding in her throat. "You better put that mouth to use, baby" she purred as she took hold of both the girl's head and the toy, running the tip along waiting lips.

Janis bit her lip as the girl stuck her tongue out and took the silicon tip into her mouth, her hips starting a rather quick rhythm as she rubbed against the brunette. Her eyes squeezed shut at the heightened sensations that were powering her body.

The blonde started to feel thoughts fading away, her mind slowly becoming empty. This only increased her already debilitating arousal.

The shorter girl's hand found a comfortable grip on the girl's jaw, lightly forcing her to take the strap deeper into her mouth. She wanted to show her that filling her holes could potentially make up for being blank otherwise.

"All it took was a little coercion and mocking to get you right where you belong. To get you doing the only thing you're good for. Good girls only think about pleasing" she purred as she stared down into lidded eyes that held nothing but space. A heavy groan left her as she felt whines reverberating through the toy and push against her own cunt.

Just as Regina took the girl into her throat, she felt a grip on her wrist that elicited a stuttering of her hips, her eyes rolling into her skull and her jaw falling slack from its previous suction.

The grip on her jaw tightened "Who said you could stop?" the brunette taunted as she held her grasp on that wrist, prolonging the sudden orgasm.

Muffled moans fell from stretched lips as she instinctively continued to lave her tongue over the toy, eyes begging for mercy.

Janis let go of her wrist, a satisfied smirk plastered on her flushed face. "Good girl! You took that so well~" she hummed.

Regina panted around the length on her tongue, her eyes falling closed at the slight suggestion of falling deeper into trance. Her hips started up again, momentarily jumping due to the sensitivity of her cunt.

The brunette threw her head back as the girl resumed her eager sucking, the flat of the harness continuing to press against her.

She waited until the girl took her into her throat, her eyes fluttering at the fullness. "Statue" Janis hummed, tapping the girl's forehead once again and sighing contently when she completely froze.

The brunette chuckled as took a hold of the girl's hair and started pushing into her esophagus mercilessly, her breath hitching as she forced past the blonde's gag reflex. She stared down at the frozen girl in awe as she was literally transformed into a manipulatable subject to be used.

"Good girl" Janis groaned as she gave her a couple of deeper thrusts as to feel that friction against her aching cunt. "Such a good, pliable puppy" the soft laugh turning into a breathless moan.

A new wave of arousal shot through her as she caught sight of Regina's teary eyes, the trigger having had disabled her from blinking. Reluctantly she tapped the girl's head again, muttering a release before giving the girl some control over her own head.

An agonised cry left the blonde as she felt a grip on her wrist once more. Her thighs grasped at the shin between them. The soft touch of the brunette wiping the tears from her cheek made her realise just how sensitive her skin had become.

"Oh is it too much, puppy?" Janis mocked, feigned care in her voice as she let go of the shaking wrist. She couldn't help but admire how the girl trembled beneath her assault just like she was meant to.

The brunette guided Regina's lips away from the toy to allow her to fill her lungs and clear her uncomfortably empty throat. The blonde looked up at her with dead, watering eyes that begged to be consumed by the other girl's essence, to have someone make a decisions for her.

"Go ahead, baby" Janis whispered as she felt the girl's hips regain its effort in rutting against her leg. Regina wrapped her arms around the girl's thigh to brace herself before her hips took control over her being.

Her lips fell open in a pant, causing a steady stream of drool to pour out of her vacant mouth. A quiet growl left the brunette as the thin liquid made contact with her thigh, watching as a needy tongue pushed out more of what was left of the blonde's brain.

"That's it~ my undignified girl" she purred as she aided the humping girl by flexing her leg against her core. Janis knew that Regina would have scoffed at the comment if her mind wasn't currently leaking out of her holes.

The whines in the blonde's throat increased in pitch which was Janis's cue to press her forehead one last time and utter "In heat: 10", causing the girl to instantly tumble over the edge of another wrecking orgasm. Unintelligible pained sounds fell from drooling lips as her head collapsed in exhaustion, hips stuttering reluctantly.

"Such a good girl" Janis hummed, stroking the blonde's flushed face.

[honeylashofficial]

Like Embers | an Imp and Skizz Oneshot

Firewatch AU - original story by @quaranmine

Skizz Week Prompt #2: Hybrid / AU (@skizzlemanweek)

Fire and friendship are not as incomparable as one may think. It's insistent, it's beautiful, and it marks you for life, whether you care to acknowledge it or not. In the way that unconditional love leaves scorch-marks across ones heart; like how embers remain, rekindle, and remind us of the raw power we possess between our very own fingertips. When wielded wisely, nothing compares.

Hurt / comfort, fluff, more fluff, unspecified injury (but no blood :D)

–+– 3,228 words –+–

November 14th, 1989

“Come on, we could totally make it happen.”

“Seriously, I’m telling you. It will not work.”

“You worried about the equipment?”

“Yes!”

“You’re just no fun.” Skizz paused in the dust, taking his time to lean backwards in a satisfying stretch. He sighed contentedly as the base of his spine popped, loosening again. His keychain of keys jangled in his hoodie pocket.

Beside him, Impulse released his own sigh, shaking his head in finality. “It’s not like they’ll want the footage anyways. There’s gonna be way too much background noise. You’d barely even hear us.”

“What if that’s the intrigue though,” Skizz pointed out, walking onward once more. “The Imp and Skizz radio segment, Forest Edition! I think I’m really on to something here.”

“I think you’re on something,” Impulse muttered, matching him step for step.

“Never. Tis simply my nature to explore the world on a more finite level,” Skizz defended himself curtly, dramatic English accent and all.

The forest crowded in on all sides of their path, silently encouraging them to hush and enjoy the nature around them. But being quiet was something neither of the two men had ever been good at, even from young ages. And it only got worse when they were in the same room. Or, in this case, in the same forest. It was a brisk late morning up in the mountains as they followed a well-trodden path towards a supposed lake. They hadn’t caught sight of it quite yet, but they’d been informed by a ranger a day ago that this was the perfect time to go and see it. Admittedly, Impulse was not nearly as enthralled about this whole hiking business as Skizz was. They were doing it together though, and Skizz had also promised to cook meals for the next two weeks once they got back to the duplex. His skills with a pan had finally convinced Impulse to agree on the weekend trip.

“Alright Shakespeare. Then maybe you could finally explore Dead Poet Society so we can get that out of the way?”

Skizz made a face at the comment, wrinkling up his nose in disgust. “They still want us to do that?”

“It’s extremely popular with the kiddies, says the studio,” Impulse shrugged.

Skizz shot him a look.

“Okay, fine,” Impulse hunched slightly, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “I really want to do it still. Did you at least read some of the book?”

“No,” Skizz shook his head. A fraction of guilt poked at his innards upon the look his friend returned. He sidestepped a fallen branch on the path before putting his own hands in his hoodie pocket. “I told you already. I don’t read.”

“You’re missing out, man,” Impulse insisted quietly.

“What if I just go watch it and say I did?” Skizz countered smartly. Even as he said it, he knew what the response would be.

“No,” Impulse declared shortly. “I would know.”

Skizz smirked, grinning at him the way only he was allowed to. “Because?” He prodded annoyingly.

Impulse glared despite no heat radiating from the look. He pursed his lips, refusing to say it.

“Say it!” Skizz encouraged. There was a taunt in his voice, but it was a part of a language only they spoke. It was an undertone only distinguishable over years and years of growing familiar with one another. And it frequently rolled off both of their tongues in a familial way. Neither of them knew what they would do if that sweet playful banter were to cease.

Impulse averted his gaze, refusing to satisfy Skizz. It was a joke at this point, and one that Impulse played often. It never got old though, and Skizz never grew tired of it. If anything, he’d only gotten more persistent over the years.

“Say it!”

“Because you’re my best friend.”

“Now that’s what I like to- woah!”

The solid terrain disappeared from under Skizz’s feet. His eyes darted back to the path ahead, only to find that he’d misjudged it entirely. The path turned sharply, leading way to steep forest hills and rocky shelves. He gasped as he found no form of grip beneath his body, sinking into the angle and getting tossed head over heels. The world spun dizzyingly out of control as his weight was thrown into the ground over and over again. Blurry smears of color skidded past him before with a jolt, everything stopped at once.

There were stars at the edge of Skizz’s vision. He blinked slowly, trying to bring them into focus. There were parts of his body that ached and some parts that he couldn’t feel at all. If he concentrated really hard, he could manage to hear something beyond the ringing that filled his ears. Impulse was shouting his name distantly. How far down had he fallen? Should he get up, or wait for his buddy?

A minute or so later, his ears began to settle again. The sounds of trees and wind welcomed him back, and the fog in his head lifted just a tad. He needed to get up. He needed to get back to Impulse —get back to the designated path. But something heavy was laying on top of him… He lifted his head to see what it was, but nothing greeted his gaze.

“Skizz! Stupid bra- Skizz! Where are you?”

The voice was getting louder. Skizz could hear his friend pushing recklessly through the underbrush. There was sliding and skidding mixed with half hearted curses before another holler split the air. His tone was unmasked; betraying exactly what he felt. And a part of Skizz couldn’t help but find it endearing.

“I’m here,” he responded, pulling his elbows underneath him in order to push upward. As soon as he did though, a bolt of lightning rocketed through his backside. He just barely composed his tongue, dropping into the dirt again and holding back a pained yelp. Teeth gritted, he muttered furiously under his breath. “Great. Just great.”

Impulse appeared a moment later, his cheeks bright red with windburn. He took deep gulps of air as if he’d been the one rolled down a hill. Upon catching sight of Skizz, he ran forward to crouch down at his side. “You okay?” He wheezed.

“No, I don’t think so,” Skizz admitted, trying not to think about all the things that could currently be wrong with his backside. Pain had bloomed about three quarters of the way down his spine, threatening with another burst if he moved the wrong way. “I think something happened to my back.”

“Uh, Skizz? If you haven’t noticed, something definitely happened,” Impulse slowly slid his backpack from his shoulders. “You fell down a hill for goodness sake. Thank God for this tree here.”

Skizz grimaced, squeezing his eyes shut. “That’s probably what got me.” He didn’t know what to do now. He was stuck, lying here on his stomach with who knew how serious of an injury. Not to mention, they had to be at least 30 feet from the trail with no guide to point them in the right direction. Why had they even come out here? Why didn’t he just stay put like Impulse had encouraged him to during their precious days off?

“Do you wanna sit up at least, or… how bad is it?” Impulse leaned over, trying to make eye contact at this awkward angle. “Do I need to call for help?”

“No, no,” Skizz raised his head, albeit slowly, so as not to disturb the muscles along his spine. “Gimme a minute or two. It might just be shock.”

“You went down pretty hard,” Impulse murmured before attempting to add more lightly, “And I refuse to carry you bridal style anywhere, just so we’re on the same page.”

An involuntary smile crawled onto Skizz’s face. “Aw… and here I thought Dipple-dop was my knight in shining armor.”

Impulse blew a raspberry, rolling his eyes as he sat heavily in the leaf litter. “I’m just one guy, Skizz. A guy that’s trying to keep you alive-“

Skizz flinched. He didn’t know whether it was because of the statement or the pain.

“-and I just feel pretty terrible at my job right now. So what do you need? Water? Pain meds..? I think I have one or two of something somewhere.”

Skizz knew Impulse. He was in need of a task. Something to keep him preoccupied while the situation outcome was unknown. He was outwardly scared on Skizz’s behalf. And Skizz simply couldn’t ask for a greater friend. “Water sounds great right about now.”

Impulse nodded, opening his bag and digging around inside. After a moment, he brought out a clear bottle, handing it over. Only then did Skizz realize that his hands were trembling with nerves.

“Buddy,” he began, taking the water and unscrewing the cap. “You gotta relax. I’m not dying.”

“I- I know that,” Impulse retorted, looking away. Skizz sighed faintly.

“Look at me.”

Dark brown eyes sheepishly met his.

“What do I always say?”

Impulse groaned, gaze sliding past his ear.

“There are times when you can play it safe, and there are times to be reckless.”

“What are you getting at, Skizz?”

“Look at me?”

Impulse’s gaze returned, slightly harder this time. “What?”

“There’s a third option. It’s not an option though. It’s happenstance. And we just happened to run into it today, alright?”

Confusion swam behind Impulse’s eyes, but it was obvious his patience on the matter had run raggedly thin. He scowled at Skizz. “Would you just tell me what needs to happen man? I don’t need your cryptic-“

“Alright, alright,” Skizz lifted a hand, patting the air calmly. “Just…” He let out a slow breath, hoping that it would negate the throbbing pain somehow. “Just give me another minute or so. I’ll see if I can get up then.”

It still felt as if a heavy object had weighed Skizz’s lower backside to the ground. He couldn’t help but wonder why that was. His legs tingled faintly, weak, and he could tell his jeans had holes in them now. What would his girlfriend think when he returned home with a newly ruined article of clothing? If he returned at all.

Now there was a grim sentence. But Skizz was a realist. And the genuine logical reality of all this was that he’d probably bruised a bone or two and was overreacting completely.

His spine didn’t get the memo.

Shooting pain rushed up and down his muscles, nearly making him sick as he strained himself. His arms shook before giving way, and he just barely had time to clamp his jaw shut, so as to dampen the landing as much as possible. It wasn’t without his mind spewing a line of vial phrases though.

“This really isn’t looking good, Skizz,” Impulse shuffled forward. “You okay?”

“No, it’s not. And yes,” Skizz replied curtly. He gritted his teeth, trying again to bring his palms beneath him. After a moment, Impulse stretched out a tentative hand, placing it on his shoulder.

“Maybe… a few more minutes..?”

They were speaking that familiar language again. The one that said a thousand words, but only required the minimum. The one that they’d learned to interpret through studying the other. Impulse’s hand spoke volumes. Feeling the brush of fingertips against Skizz’s body sent a shiver down his already pained backside.

“Okay.”

Twenty minutes later, Impulse radioed the emergency frequency.

–+–

“Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea.”

“Huh?” Skizz opened his eyes, tipping his head backwards from where he was now laying on his back, wrapped in his sleeping bag. The crackle of the fire near his head filled the silent night air.

“The forest segment,” Impulse explained, hugging himself tighter in his thin cotton jacket. It was colder tonight than it had been the night before. And many of the stars were hidden through the dead leaves still on the trees. They would be falling soon, no doubt, littering the forest floor in a blanket of its own. The two of them were now regretting not having packed more properly for emergencies. Hindsight was constantly and annoyingly 20-20.

“You’re not just feelin’ sorry for me now are you?” Skizz chided jokingly. He was comfortable making light of the current situation. He was okay with mentally removing himself from this harsh reality. He was just tired and sore from the day. That was all. So they’d camped early. “I would hate to be scoring pity points, you know.”

Impulse was silent for a while. The low fire casted heavy shadows across his face. “…no. Genuinely. Now that I’ve been listening, it’s kinda… nice out here.”

Skizz smiled. “See? I told ya. And if they really like it, maybe they can send us other places, like the ocean. That could be cool, you think?”

“You mean..?” Impulse raised his head shyly.

“We could travel the world,” Skizz nodded eagerly. “Just like we always wanted to.

“You’re crazy.”

“I choose to take that as a compliment.”

“Well you shouldn’t.”

The momentary excitement dwindled. A tired sigh played on Skizz’s lips, and his smile faded, replaced with disheartenment. Pain still riddled his body, more prominent in places he hadn’t noticed before. But it was his heart that bled openly. It bled and it wept. Because despite his calm and collected face, a part of him really was scared. Fear twisted in his gut, unkind with its iron grip and sickening anxiety. He was infinitely better at hiding emotions than Impulse was. Now was no exception. But seeing his best friend so torn up about all this wasn’t exactly making it easy. There was pain, yes. But Skizz personally chose to stash it away. The two of them had always differed in their preferred coping mechanisms. Skizz believed that faking it till you made it was the answer to all problems. Impulse had a much softer approach. It did make his temper less stable, but if that was the only thing Skizz had to worry about when it came to this, then he’d still take it any day.

“I’m not dying, buddy,” he reminded his friend softly.

“You’re so lucky it wasn’t your head…”

“True. But seeing as it wasn’t, you can relax now.”

“Skizz…” Impulse found him in the firelight. “I don’t think you get it.”

Smoke curled into a perfectly still evening.

A pause followed. Skizz grew uncomfortable at it, as he swallowed nervously and filled the emptiness with, “Pitch it to me then.”

Impulse sniffled, and if it weren’t so dark, perhaps his watery eyes would be acknowledged. But the light of the low fire was too weak for that.

“What would I have done if it was your head? What am I supposed to do now? I don’t know CPR, or how to set a bone. I wasn’t ready for all this. And you’re acting like it’s nothing. But it’s not nothing. It’s an emergency. You’re in God knows how much pain and refuse to take the stupid tablets-“

“Impulse. The mountain rescue people are coming. They will find us, and I will be okay.”

“You don’t know that!”

“What did I tell you?” Skizz snapped, his tone dipping sharply.

“You say a lot of things, Skizz,” Impulse retorted.

“Happenstance,” Skizz glared through the dark, brows drawn together in seriousness. “You cannot plan for everything. This was never in your control.”

Sparks drifted from the pit of embers. They danced on the air, winking out of existence as if they'd never been there in the first place. And tree branches rattled above their heads, scraping against one another in an eerie disconsonant symphony. Earthy smells overpowered the fire despite being so close to its heat.

“You quoted Dead Poet Society earlier. You know that right?” Impulse asked. He twirled a small twig between his fingers absently —another coping mechanism. “There’s a similar saying in the movie. Something like ‘there’s a time for being daring and a time to be careful, and a wise man understands what is called for’.”

“Huh…” Skizz blinked, his vision blurring slightly.

“I’ll be the first to admit on both of our behalfs that we aren’t exactly wise,” Impulse broke the twig in half, tossing its pieces on the fire. “We’re not stupid either though. The jokes kinda made me.. feel stupid.”

“Okay.”

Skizz loved to make people laugh. He always had. That was why he broadcasted his voice across the county Monday through Friday, for hours on end. To bring people a little ounce of joy throughout their stress filled days and weary nights. And he got to do it alongside his best friend at that. But even more than laughter, Skizz strived to provide comfort. There could only be real laughter once comfort was established. And tonight, it was as if he was seeing Impulse for the very first time. Because in a way, he was. Impulse was in a state unfamiliar to him. And he’d been trying to push the wrong buttons all in the wrong order. So his gaze softened, relaxing as best he could despite his pain.

“Okay, Dipple-dop. No more jokes tonight.”

Impulse nodded, as if to reassure himself as well. “I just really don’t like happenstance, as you call it.”

“I know,” Skizz murmured. “I don’t like it either. I should have said that from the beginning.”

“It’s still pretty impressive how close your quote was though.”

Skizz chuckled. “If I had known that, I’d have kept my mouth shut.”

“To keep me from talking about it?” Impulse rolled his eyes, shoulders relaxing a little. “Actually, since you aren’t going anywhere, I can just tell you what happens.”

“Does this mean I won’t have to read the book.”

“Maybe. It depends on how well I remember everything.”

“Oh shut up, you remember everything!”

“Apparently everything except a first aid kit,” Impulse pointed out. “I know the first thing I’ll be doing once we get back home.”

“I think I should be the one making that purchase,” Skizz argued. “I was the one who fell down the hill, remember?”

“I suppose you are more accident prone.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“You know I could.”

“Just tell me about the book already. We’ll worry about this later.”

“Just as soon as you say it.”

“Say what now? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Say it.”

“You really are the worst, aren’t you.”

For the first time in hours, Impulse finally smiled. Its brilliance washed over Skizz in a warm wave, providing more heat than the fires embers ever could. He cherished this very moment in time, because despite how he’d been acting, this wasn’t going to be anything easy to get over. He had no clue whether the injury had repercussions or a long recovery time in store for him. But Impulse’s smile made everything better somehow. It glowed like the pale moon above them, twinkling like stars, infinite like space itself.

Skizz wondered how a man such as himself would go about gaining such depths —such wisdom. And then he remembered what Impulse had said.

‘There’s a time for daring, and a time for caution, and a wise man understands which is called for.’

And perhaps he would read that book when they returned home.

Maybe then he could gain a little bit of wisdom himself.

–+– The End –+–

[radioactivepeasant]

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Picks up where Viper left off)

"You know you've got like a whole bucket of cactus paddles down there?"

Jak sauntered back into the throne room from the hidden door and tossed Damas a sealed bag of roasted crickets.

"I should hope it's a full bucket, considering I picked those this morning."

Damas pulled out one of the cooked insects, plucked off the legs, and popped the rest into his mouth.

"You don't eat the legs?"

Jak draped himself over the edge of the throne to snatch a handful of crickets from the bag.

"They get stuck in my teeth," Damas complained, "I save them for my birds."

Daxter snickered. "Even Pecker?"

"If Pecker doesn't like the food, he's free to fly back to Onin," replied the king with an almost mischievous look.

"Oye, you didn't mess with anything in the kitchens, did you? The head cook is...tetchy."

"She's a miserable old cuss and she threw a knife at me," Jak said indignantly.

"She throws knives at everyone. You're lucky it was only a knife."

Around another mouthful of crickets, Jak made an appalled expression. "What else does she throw?!"

Damas grimaced and rubbed his forehead as if remembering an old injury. "Whatever is closest. Pans. Porridge. Whole onions. Cactus paddles with the spines still on."

Daxter started to come closer, but glanced at the dead snake still decorating the dais and thought better of it. "Hey, Jak doesn't need to go to the kitchens to experience that! All he has to do is get distracted while on the Leaper again and he'll have a mouth full of prickly-pear!"

"That wasn't my fault!" Jak protested hotly.

Damas raised a brow. "Oh? I hadn't heard about this one."

Hoping to avoid retelling the story, Jak quickly changed the subject.

"Wait, can you actually eat cactus?" he demanded.

He moved to sit cross-legged directly in front of the throne, and began examining the viper's mouth to get an idea of how to harvest the fangs later. Absentmindedly, he reached a hand back behind him, and was too deep in focus mode to register that this wasn't Daxter or Keira he was non-verbally bumming snacks off of. Nonetheless, Damas made a goodnatured scoff and placed several more crickets in his hand.

"You can eat specific kinds of cactus," Damas clarified. By the emphasis he placed on "specific", it was fairly obvious he was anticipating Jak trying to eat random cacti in town.

"Only the ones with the paddles like you saw, understand?"

"Sure, sure." Jak brushed this off. "But what do you make with them, though?"

Damas inspected the bag of crickets and sealed it back up to ensure that they would have some snacks during the coming meetings. "You use them for just about anything you need a vegetable for, honestly. I tend to grill them with lemon. Some people boil them for salads. Sig's mother is known in the East Quarter for frying it in batter and selling it in little cups."

"Ooh! We still haven't met Sig's ma!" Daxter chirped. He grinned wickedly. "We should ask her about Sig's embarrassing baby stories."

"She has no shortage of them," Damas agreed.

Daxter glanced back at Jak, happily munching crickets, and shuddered.

"On a scale of one to "Jak eats things raw if he can't figure out how to cook them", how hard is it to cook?"

Jak looked insulted. Damas snorted.

"After the afternoon appointments, I'll teach you one of the simpler methods. You won't need much- Jak, don't touch the fangs. We still need the evidence intact."

"I was just looking!" Jak defended.

"With your hands?"

With a gusty sigh, the teenager scooted back to the right of Damas’s seat. He looked a little cross, but it faded soon enough.

"What appointments do you have, anyway?"

Damas stood up to stretch. Precursors knew he wouldn't get a chance in the next few hours.

"Third bell after noon through fifth bell is reserved for Arbitration Court," he said. "Which is why I do not usually call you during those hours. My job as king is to uphold the safety of my people, ensure the continued functioning of the Beacon and the water filtration system, mediate disputes not serious enough for the Arena, and enforce laws agreed upon by myself and my council."

Jak made a face. "That sounds like a lot of being stuck inside."

Dryly, Damas asked, "Why do you think I planted an entire grove of date palms in here? I would have died of boredom years ago if I did not."

He turned to fix both boys with a stern look.

"Out of respect for your fellow Spargans, try not to fidget during Arbitration Court unless you notice something suspicious. After five is a monthly meeting with the northern clifftop farmers to discuss rent payments."

"You rent farmland?"

"They rent from me," corrected Damas. "I didn't clear boulders until my hands bled just to abandon my land when I became king."

Jak blinked. "Fair enough. Man, we should've charged Sandover rent, Dax."

"Pal, they thought we owed them compensation for being allowed to sleep on their porches and eat a bare minimum of their food," Daxter pointed out sourly.

He caught a troubled frown on Damas’s face after the statement.

"Hm. I would like your attention to be on the visitors most during the rent meeting and the council meeting after evening meal. If anyone has a problem with me, specifically, that's likely where they'll turn up."

Jak eyed the snake again. "And if they blow their cover, I get to take 'em out, right?"

"No." Damas narrowed his eyes and pointed at Jak as he sat down again. "I need to determine how far the plot goes. No killing the assassin or accomplices."

"What about after?" Jak pressed.

"I'm the aggrieved party, I'm the one who deals with them," Damas said in mild reproof.

Jak folded his arms. "I dunno, we're feeling pretty aggrieved, right Daxter?"

"Positively outraged," Daxter added, sounding more bored than offended. "More Jak than me, but he's the sensitive type. You know him."

"Yes," Damas said, shaking his head with a small smile, "Yes I do. The answer is still "no", Jak."

Jak huffed and settled more comfortably against the throne. "You never let me do anything fun," he joked.

"I don't, I really don't." Damas reached over to prod the back of Jak's head affectionately.

"I'm a horrible, mean, adult who only lets you risk life and limb four days out of the week instead of every three hours."

"The folks in Haven would think that was the worst kind of tyranny, not being able to make us do all their work for them," Daxter scoffed.

The lift began to rattle, and Damas cleared his throat.

"Well, back to work. Eyes open, my boys. Let us see if we can't catch a would-be assassin. Jak, don't touch the fangs."

"I wasn't!" Jak protested.

Neither of his companions looked convinced.

[s0larts]

I'm watching Grian Season 6 Hermitcraft episodes

And

GUYS LIKE IMAGINE ANGST LORE

What if the time machine transported Grian, Impulse and Ren to the wrong reality??

What if they've been living in a bad reality all this time?

The three of us suddenly disappear after heading to arena 77. All the Hermits are devastated, thinking their friends are dead.

What if in season 9, like in canon, there is a Rift. Grian walks through it with a couple of other people. But they don't transfer to Empires.

They are transported to their true reality. Realities where the Hermits are not so cheerful and peaceful anymore.

[farolero-posting]

The thing that's cool about all major OneShot robot/AI characters is that you can't really conceive their characters and ignore what they are, and part of this is because they're usually built for a reason within a context.

Silver is the way she is because she was built to achieve a dreamed goal, and it directly impacts on how she is perceived, how she views others and how she may experience her own isolation. She is an attempt at a person, a possible innovation, but also a show of failure too. A layer is added when you consider that taming, a process that already does kind of achieve the goal of person-hood, is implied to exist before Silver.

The Prophetbot as a concept is meant to be a successor for the Great Prophet. Prototype tries both to follow up on her ideas, only to confirm the futility of waiting for a savior. Besides, the manipulation of his own data and reconstruction also shows that they're possible to copy, to build as a creator wishes. Then the final version is built, but with consideration for limitations in resources, and trying to minimize any effort, which makes him have a very margin of action beyond his programming. Prophetbot ends up being successful in his task, but for him, the circumstances were scripted to be this way. There IS an actual god pulling strings in that world.

And then the World Machine IS the world itself, and in a way, different from it too. TWM never would have existed if it wasn't because it was created to contain the memories of people in the old world, a world that believed itself without saving, and so its spirit reflected that hopelessness. It is also filled with the notion that what it contains isn't real, or even much of a faithful reflection of the world it was meant to preserve, and that, along with the need to depend on someone else's consciousness (Niko), means it can't exist for itself. And... even with all that despair, they were made with the belief that, at the very least, a second opportunity to set things right was worth trying, and maybe (just maybe) it should give itself that chance.

[dvskf4llz]

Hello! Could I request a fluffy ImpulseSV x gender neutral reader where Impulse is trying to take reader on a romantic date but everything keeps going wrong (if you have different ideas then it's ok!) :]

Also Could I be 🍄 anon?

I love this idea anon!! Ofc you can be 🍄 anon :]

'Sup guys I'm back 👍

Alone time

ImpulseSV x GN!Reader fluff

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This oneshot will contain the following: Pure fluffiness, a tad bit of stuff that you may not like such as cheesy couple stuff and kind of getting dragged away from dates

Nothing too extreme so dw! Now, on with the oneshot!

(Here's a backstory between you and impulse first :D)

Back when you first joined Hermitcraft, you had instantly became interested in Impulse once you met him.

You guys had nice and interesting conversations, you both shared a lot of interests. You guys had a really good bond with each other, of course the other hermits noticed that and began planning immediately.

A few months after you first met Impulse, a few of the fellow hermits had encouraged Impulse to confess to you since he did actually like you. The hermits did end up convincing him, so he did.

He set up a whole 'friendly meetup' for both of you, saying that he just wanted to hangout for a while. You felt a bit suspicious by it but went with it anyways

You'd arrive at the coordinates that Impulse had given you to go to; As you looked up, you were greeted with a beautiful scenery. Impulse would be standing in front of you with flowers in his hands, a slightly nervous smile on his face. He'd then bashfully confess his feelings to you, his face being all red as he waited for your reaction. After Impulse was done, you would then finally admit it as well that you had feelings for him and well everything else went well. You both continued the date, and soon enough officially a couple! Some of the Hermits would be surprised and would be happy for both of you, acting as if they didn't expect this at all when really they did.

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Now recently, you and Impulse had been busy with different things. Building things, doing favors for the Hermits, having different projects that required a lot of time and etc. You and Impulse barely got time to spend time with each other alone and in peace, and that lead to both of you missing each other.

Soon enough, Impulse would then think of clearing all his plans for one day of the week to bring you on a romantic date. He decided Saturday could be idea, he also made sure to check that you didn't have any plans on that day. Thankfully, you didn't. And so, you both waited patiently and excitedly for the day to come because you both really needed a break for once.

And so as the day came, you both were even more excited to just spend time with each other on a cute little picnic date that Impulse had set up just before the time that both of you would leave. When the time finally came for when you and Impulse were going to leave for the date, as soon as Impulse saw you he was absolutely mesmerized by your beauty.

"Well, you are looking mighty fine! Care to join me, m'lady?" Impulse would say in a jokingly posh tone, holding his hand out to you whilst you let out a small chuckle

"Why aren't you just a gentleman? Of course I shall join you." You'd reply back aswell with a fancy tone, wanting to play along with the whole posh/fancy tone thing. And so, you took Impulse's hand and you both went off hand in hand. Both of you thought it would just be a normal and wholesome little date that you would have, but oh boy did you both get proven wrong.

As soon as you guys would start with the date, Impulse would get asked to do something that was really urgent. He had to excuse himself for a while, hoping it wouldn't take long. You were a bit hesitant and felt a bit sad, but understood and let Impulse do what he needed to do first. So, you waited for him for about twenty minutes before you started to get a bit worried. But thankfully, Impulse would arrive back just a minute after you began worrying. You then both continues on with the date, doing the usual cheesy stuff couples would do on dates until you got asked to do something that was important by one of the Hermits. Same thing happened again, again and again.. When you both finally were able to continue, lots of things went wrong. Both of you would still get dragged into doing stuff the Hermits would ask for you guys to do, food getting stolen by critters and just many more things that had kind of ruined the date. You both even had to do something seperate that would take a while to do, by the time you were both done it was already late evening.

With both of you extremely tired, you guys just decided to just have a cuddle date in bed. The first bit of the cuddling session was mostly filled with both you and Impulse apologizing to each other for constantly getting pulled away from the date, Impulse was definitely the one who apologized the most since he was the one who set up the whole date. Soon enough, you both would end up playfully arguing about who said sorry the most

"No, I said sorry more than you did!"

"Nuh uh."

"The heck you mean 'Nuh uh'?"

"I apologized the most and I know I'm right soo!"

"No, I did!"

The playful arguing went on for a while before you both decided that you were both equally very apologetic about what happened, though atleast one of you would still be murmuring about how you/he were/was right. After that, you both just started giving each other little kisses and maybe soft nuzzles against each other aswell. Soon enough, the both of you would fall asleep peacefully in each other's arms; holding each other close with soft smiles on your faces..

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And yeah! That's it for this oneshot! This is not fully proof read as I'm writing this at almost 12 am and I am tired- but of course I didn't go to sleep yet just so that I could finish this for you guys :D

Hope you enjoyed! Always remember to take care of yourself and don't feel forced to do anything! Do things at your own pace <3

Much love as always, goodbye dear reader! See you on the next oneshot ;D

[dickmedowndc]

Artist's Muse - Bart Allen x Artistic!Reader

Word Count: 1,898

Summary: Reader is drawing outside, minding their own business at first. But inspiration is not coming so easily today – until someone catches your eye. Though he is sitting a few feet away from you, he appears to be relaxed as he lays back relaxed, talking with his friends every so often. Struck by the desire to draw, you find the sketch on the page looking more and more like him, too engrossed in the art to realize that you have been caught. 

Note: Have I seen this prompt done about a hundred times over with all kinds of characters across all kinds of fandom? Yep, and now you’re getting my spin on it!

…★…

Your fingers were gripped tight around your pencil, face set into a scowl. You wanted to draw. You knew you did. But nothing was sparking your interest. You had come to the park in an attempt to find a muse. But as you tried to sketch the landscape, the trees, children playing, or the birds hopping about, you found that nothing was working. The lines on the page were not as you wanted them to look. Like they refused to connect. The images both in your line of sight and in your head failed to translate onto the paper. You were ready to call it a day and head home, frustrated still that you could not drag yourself out of your slump. Art block had been your closest companion for weeks now, and it had you ready to toss your beloved sketchbook out the window. 

Instead, you closed your eyes, looking up at the sky and taking a deep breath. Maybe, if you could just take a few moments, you could at least enjoy what was left of the day now that the sun was setting. There was no sense in wasting what remained of the daylight and going back home upset. Finally opening your eyes, you reach for your water bottle to take a sip, glancing at the area surrounding you. 

Most of the people left were teenagers, or other young adults. Parents were beginning to round their children up to usher them back off home, older couples seemed content to call it a day and walked back to wherever they had parked. A few groups of younger individuals seemed ready to part ways for the day and you could see them wave each other off. Some evening joggers were beginning to arrive, and you could spot a few individuals that you recognized as regulars. However, just a few feet in front of you, to your right and past the tree, you noticed a group of friends you had not seen earlier in the day. 

You wish you could say you knew when they had arrived, but you had been deeply engrossed in your vain attempts at art, and had blocked out the surrounding world. The group seemed to keep your attention, laughing loudly at a joke one of them made, though you were too far away to hear anything else. Interested, willing to try your hand once more at art, you position yourself to see them a bit better without grabbing their attention, your back now against the tree. 

Initially you only notice three of them, until they glance down and you realize a younger man is laying on the grass, eyes closed and arms tucked behind his head. While he never moves from his spot, you can see his mouth moving and hear the uproar of laughter that follows. He seems pleased with their response and you can just make out a smile on his face as well. 

Your breath catches for a moment and you find yourself far more enamored with him than his friends. Your original idea had been to draw the blonde girl – an attempt at catching her mirth, and their friends had their backs turned to you for the most part. Instead, you could feel yourself flipping the page to something cleaner, still looking at the guy laying down. 

The lighting was just right, vibrant hues of gold, orange, and pink saturated the sky, with clouds scattering across and lit up in the evening light. He seemed to be laying almost perfectly underneath the horizon, a brilliant halo of color around him. But the contrast of the sky and the deep green of the grass he was laying on was beautiful enough, and you could not help but admit he was attractive as well. Only half aware of your surroundings you glanced down, making sure you had brought plenty of colored pencils. While you may not have enough time to color, you wanted to try. 

Finally feeling the rush of creativity, you looked back down, beginning to sketch him out. You notice, absently, that you are not including his friends in this, but cannot bring yourself to correct it. He is in your peripheral enough to see his entire body, unobscured by his friends. Every so often you need to look up, and you thank whatever deity above that he seems content enough to not move. Still in the same position every time. Absently, you thank them a second time that his friends seem too caught up with themselves to notice you studying their auburn-haired friend as you try to get his features right on your sketch.  

And while the looks you keep sending his way are not enough to catch their attention, unbeknownst to you, your murmuring is heard by one of them. Though he is sure you don’t realize you are doing it, he risks a glance. You are far too busy looking at Bart to realize you have been noticed and he turns to the speedster. “Looks like you have an admirer,” he quips. At Kon’s words, both Tim and Cassie stop as well, looking up to where you are still furiously scribbling. 

“I noticed.” The smug drawl in his voice has them all snickering again before the group manages to compose themselves once more. 

“How long?” It is Cassie who speaks this time, gazing down at her friend. 

“They started drawing me a while ago,” he shrugs, but otherwise Bart does not move. “I’m gonna go ask to see it when they stop.” 

It is then that you finally look up again, only to see a grin on his face while he is looking at his friend. His eyes are open as well, but you cannot see what color they are from where you sit. You linger on that thought more than you would care to admit. But just as quickly he returns to the same relaxed pose that he had been in for the extent of your drawing and you finish the last of the details you need. 

The sun was too far down now – and the colors has since faded. Stars were beginning to dance above the park. As many as could be seen from the city at least. Taking another look at your art, you put away your pencil, satisfied with the way your work had come out. Your unknowing muse had been not only fun to draw, but had been an amazing model. Though you almost felt guilty for not asking you pushed it aside. It seemed that nobody had noticed you looking up at him, so hopefully your glances had been fast enough. 

Instead, you gathered your supplies together. Packing away extra pencils, colored pencils, liners, a notebook, and various other items that you had opted to bring with you for your day to the park. Caught up in double checking you had everything, you turn to grab your sketchbook, only to jump in the process. You send up a silent prayer that you did not shriek. But you still blink at the man sitting in front of you. 

The same guy you had just been drawing. In the back of your mind, your brain helpfully supplies that his eyes are golden, as you had been wondering only a few minutes ago. 

Just over his shoulder you can see his friends laughing, and judging from the satisfied look on his face you must have been caught. Sheepishly, you turn back to look at him. “Uh, hello.” 

“Hey,” you can see him glance to your sketchbook before looking back at you. He pauses for a moment before his smile is right back. “Can I see how it came out?” 

“Oh, uh, well – it was just some sketches from around the park.” Maybe you can bluff your way out of it, too embarrassed to let him see the drawing you had done of him. 

“Oh, is that why you kept looking over at me?” There is no malice in his tone, and he seems all too amused with the situation. 

“You saw me?” Though it seems like the answer should be obvious, you still hear the question slip past your lips. 

“Pretty early on, yeah,” the smile he has is far too smug but it is obvious enough he is trying not to laugh as well, “why do you think I was staying so still?” 

Finally, you let out a sigh, knowing there is no way to pretend you had not been drawing him for the last – well, however long it had been. You needed to check your phone to see the time eventually. Rather than do that, you pick your sketchbook back up, flipping through the pages until you reach the one with him on it. It is not a small doodle, not by any means, and it takes up the entire page. Shyly, you hand the book over to him, which he gently takes, seeming eager to catch a look at the final product. 

“Woah.” He spares a glance up at you before going back to looking at the drawing. “This is good. This is really good.” 

“Thank you.” 

“So, this is how you see me?” His tone is teasing, and you can feel yourself flushing at it. 

“I thought it was pretty true to life, actually.” 

It seems to be his turn to be embarrassed, and you can see his own cheeks coloring. Just slightly. But it does not seem to deter him. “Well, maybe I could give you my number and we could talk about it?” 

“Like, over lunch?” You ask, almost surprised by how hopeful you sound. 

“Just us.” 

Instead of answering him, you hand your phone over, after unlocking it and opening it to a new contact page. It takes him no time at all to input his name before he glances back at his friends. 

“I think I may need to head back over though. But lunch?” 

“It’s a date,” you chime. 

“Okay, good.” If anyone was to ask, you would swear his eyes light up as he says that. 

Hugging your sketchbook to your chest you wave goodbye and turn, heading to leave. Walking out, you fish your phone out of your pocket. You could wait until you get home to text him, but realize instead that you never gave him your name. Glancing forward to make sure nobody is in front of you, you open your phone to find his contact, laughing when you realize he has set himself as ‘Park Muse’ instead of his name. 

Hey, this is Y/n btw 

Hi! Do u like my name? 

Park muse? 

You can figure out what it really is at lunch 

Well, I'm free tomorrow if you are? 

That works for me. Do you know the café on 6th street? 

Korner Stone Kafe? 

Yeah! Meet there at 1? If that works for u 

I’ll see you at 1 

Despite making it home in one piece, you find yourself distracted messaging Bart for the rest of the night. One of his friends had gotten a hold of his phone and slipped up on his name within 15 minutes of you messaging him. A fact which had you laughing. Excited for the next day, you did eventually tell him goodnight before attempting to get some sleep – knowing you would be seeing him in only a few hours. 

[borderlinegerard]

i would,,,love to hear about the tim and bart college au,, if u have anything to share

OH MU GOD YAY

Let me set the scene for you. bart and tim were BEST FRIENDS in high school (think tim and bernard type friendship) but they both ended up at different colleges, tim dropped out due to red robin horrors, they just never talked again. BUT! they meet again at this city wide gala.

bart doesnr realize its tim at first. this confident man is so different than the meek teenager he knew. tim really had changed. and, of course, theyve both changed. theyve seen their best friends die, hell bart even died himself. but all this time apart? it was so strange being in the same room again.

theyre both in their last year of college, its only been 3 years but its felt so long. neither of them realize it at first. but bart notices things. the way tim has only his left fingernails painted (he says its because freddie mercury did it, but its really just because he has bad motor control on his left hand), the way he never seems to he able to make eye contact, and oh my god this is tim drake. this is tim drake barts high school crush that he never really did get over, did he?

its more of a question at first, but the more he thinks about it, the more he talks to tim drake (apparently his name is tim drake-wayne now! wow!) the more he realizes its not a question. maybe it never was. even years later, he's still just as stupid in love with tim drake-wayne as he was when he was 15.

i want to go somewhere with this. considering a timbernbart thing ? i think that would just be SO CUTE . do we like this, im fully making this up on the spot LOL.

[a1307s]

Companion #2

(Bart Allen)

[Art is not mine! Credit to battysketches]

Requested by: Feketealkony16

Keys:

Y/N: Your Name

Word Count: 5,760

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

None

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My companion and I have been spending a lot of time together over the past couple of weeks. We have a nice routine that makes me calm. I like knowing what is going to happen, and with Bart, I always know when stuff is going to happen and how it's going to happen.

However, recently Bart has insisted on sleeping in my bed with me at night. I'm not sure why but he keeps asking me, so I finally said yes last night. It's weird waking up with him in my bed. I'm not sure what to do. Usually, I get up and shower before breakfast, and then Bart makes us pancakes. Am I supposed to do that today too?

I shift in bed so I'm sitting against the board in the front. Bart stirs a bit, rolling over so his head is buried between my thigh and the bedding. He stays still for a second before shifting again, his head staying in place but his arm resting against my hips. For whatever reason, Bart has started touching me a lot. He seems to like touching my hips, but again, I'm not sure why.

Usually, I don't like people other than Conner touching me. I do like Bart touching me too though. I like the little sparks that bounce off of him when he's excited. I did end up asking Artemis about the electric sparks and she said Wally does it too when he gets really happy. She also said that Wally doesn't know it's happening because he's used to electricity running threw him so it's hard for him to tell when it's being transferred to something or someone else. I'm pretty sure it's the same for my companion.

Once again, Bart shifts, this time he props himself up so I can see his face, but his arm stays put. When his eyes blink open, sparks start bouncing off of him and colliding against my hips. He is happy, good. "G'morning," He mumbles, a sleepy smile on his face as he looks up at me.

"Good morning," I say back, turning my head away from him. My chest always feels tight when Bart smiles at me. I asked Batgirl about it, and she said it sounds like I have a crush on Bart. I don't know what a crush is, but she explained it as me liking him. Of course, I like him, he's my companion. If I didn't like him, he wouldn't be my companion. Duh.

"Y/N," Bart whines, tightening his hold on me as he buries his head between my hip and his arm. "Look at me!" I obey, turning back to him. His head pokes out as he keeps it rested on us. His smile widens, the sleepiness draining from his face. "Good morning, Mamas."

That is new. I don't know if it's good new. It makes me tingle, but not the tingling I get from the electricity leaving Bart, it's a different tingle. "Good morning," I repeat, once again turning away from him. I think it's a good tingle. It makes me feel like I want my companion to touch me more.

As if he can read my mind, Bart wraps his other arm behind my back, tugging me some so more of himself is on top of my lap. His head is shifted to my other leg, his heart being pressed into my thigh as he lays across me. Recently, when I get overwhelmed - that's the new word Black Canary taught me last week; she says it explains me getting upset about the lights and my emotions - I've been listening to Bart's heartbeat instead of Conner's.

"Why won't you look at me?" He asks, his hands rubbing my hips as he cuddles himself up on my legs. He reminds me of a cat doing this. Sometimes Garfield will transfer into a cat and lay on me, so I'll pet him.

"You make my chest hurt when I look at you too long," I mumble, glancing down at him.

"Oh," He murmurs, his face scrunched up in confusion. "What do you mean it hurts?"

I scan around my room, trying to find anything other than him to look at. "I don't know... it just... feels tight sometimes."

"Oh," Bart repeats, his tone a lot happier this time. "My chest does that too. Usually when you laugh." Maybe Bart likes me too. I hope so or else I'd be a bad companion. Am I a bad companion to Bart? I hope not. I want to make him happy.

"What are you thinking about?" He asks, his hands no longer rubbing my bones and instead gently pushing the hem of my pajama shirt up. A small sliver of my skin shows, which seems to be holding Bart's attention as he pushes his fingertips into it. I don't think I like that, but I do like the feeling of the sparks against a new part of my skin.

"I don't know what to do," I murmur, watching Bart as he watches his fingers roll over my skin. Maybe I do like it, and it's just making me nervous because it's new.

I don't like new things and there's a lot of them happening right now. Bart sleeping in my bed all night, Bart waking up in my bed this morning, and now Bart touching my bare stomach. He's slept in my bed before because we've taken naps together, but he usually spends the night in his bed. Since we've taken naps before, we've woken up in each other's beds, but our naps are usually only an hour or so and never after eight at night. He's also touched me in a lot of places: my arms, my thighs, my back, and even my stomach. The only bare skin he's ever touched is my hands, arms, and face though.

"What do you mean you don't know what to do?" He asks, pushing my shirt up a little more as his fingers slide over my sides, right above my hips. His eyes stay attached to his fingers as if it takes a lot of focusing to touch my skin. Maybe it does. I've only touched the same skin he's touched on me; well before today anyway. I don't see why it would take so much focus though.

"Well, usually I'm in the shower by now, but I'm not. I'm still in bed, with you touching me."

Bart's fingers stop moving, staying put on my side as he looks up at me. I make myself look down, focusing on his eyes as I try to breathe the tightness out of my chest. It's not the tightness I'm used to having around Bart. It's the tightness I would get after I knew I failed a test. "Do you not like me touching you?"

I think about it for a minute, like Canary has told me to do. She's told me just because I feel uneasy about something doesn't mean I don't enjoy it. It just means I'm worried about what is going to happen. "It makes me worry," I finally answer, looking away from Bart again. My breathing hasn't helped with my lungs.

"About what?" He asks, sliding soft circles into me. I can still feel his eyes on the side of my face, which doesn't help my thinking.

"Why you're touching me. If you want me to touch you. If you expect anything from me because you're touching me."

Bart stays silent, the only sounds filling my ears being his heart and lungs, along with the soft sound of our skin running against each other. "Well, I'm touching you because I like how you feel... That sounds creepy," he falls quiet again, spacing out a bit. "I'm touching you because it's how I show and how I feel that someone cares. I would like you to touch me back, but you never have to do anything you don't want to when I'm around. If you don't want to touch me, then don't, I won't be mad."

I roll his words over for a bit before looking down at him. "Where would you like me to touch you?" Hopefully, it's somewhere okay, like his hair. I really want to touch his hair.

"A few places. You can touch me wherever you're comfortable touching. I won't be mad no matter what you decide." Once again, I roll the words over in my head. Does he think that I think he's mad? I slowly move my hands to his head, letting them rest for a beat before I slide my hands through his locks. They're soft against my fingers, causing waves of calmness to start to sprout.

We sit like this for a while, Bart rolling circles into different parts of my stomach, and me playing with his hair. I start trying to braid it, like I've seen M'gann do to Cassie's hair, but Bart's hair isn't long enough to make a good braid.

After a bit, Bart shifts, sitting up in bed across from me. "I'm going to take a shower," he starts, tilting his head some as he looks over my face. "Do you want to take a shower with me?"

"No," I yap out, panic quickly eating away at the calmness that was previously present.

"Okay, you don't have to," he says softly as he slowly reaches his hand towards me. I stay still, petrified with fear despite his present smile that usually makes my chest tight, not fearful. His hand is gentle as he places it against my cheek, his thumb gently sliding against my skin. For whatever reason, this is another thing Bart likes to do.

"Please go away," the fear pushes out of me before I can stop it. I don't like this, I don't like him touching me, and I don't like Bart anymore. He's a scary companion. He's going to hurt me.

     Bart's smile drops a bit, but is still present, and still scary. "Okay," he says softly, dropping his touch from me before sliding off my bed. I stay put as I watch him walk into the bathroom.

Once the door is shut behind him, I shoot up from bed and make my way out of my room. I do not feel happy, I do not feel nice, I do not feel good. All of can think about is my pod and Luther and pain.

I need to find Birdman so he can call Canary. I need to talk to her. I do not like feeling scared, and I really don't like feeling scared of Bart. He's my companion, he's supposed to make me feel good, feel loved, feel safe, someone I'm supposed to trust. I do not feel any of that. I feel scared of him, scared of him seeing me. Why would he want to see me like that? Why would he want to take a shower with me? Does he want to hurt me? What test did I fail?

My mind is a fog, my breathing feeling labored, and my nervous shaking as I race into the living room. I can hear Conner trying to get my attention, but I ignore him. "Nightwing?" I call, walking up to the team leader who's tucked into a corner of the kitchen. I tug on the arm of his shirt, pulling his attention down to me with a soft hum. "We need to go on a walk."

————————————

Canary is sitting across from me, her body language open and her pen and pad ready to write down what I say. I open my mouth again to try and explain this morning but once again, nothing comes out. "Take your time, Y/N, the league knows I'm not on call, so we have all day to figure this out," her words are soft, like always.

I like Canary, she is nice, and patient, and helps me with all my thoughts and feelings. When I first started talking with her, she told me she used to and still does help Conner - and other heroes - with the same thing so it's okay that I ask for her help.

"Bart keeps asking to sleep in my bed at night," I finally push out, shifting my gaze around the room. Even though it feels nice to talk to her and I feel safe with Canary, it still feels overwhelming to talk about stuff sometimes.

"Yes, we talked about it at our last session, do you remember what you said about it?"

     I think about it for a moment, trying to remember. "I said that I don't know how I feel about it." Canary stays quiet, her eyes soft as she looks at me. "He asked again last night, and I said yes."

"Why did you say yes? Did you want to say yes, or did you say yes so he'd stop asking?"

I think about it for a moment, trying to relive the moment and the emotions I had during the discussion with Bart. "I felt... happy when he asked. I thought it would be nice. I like our naps so I figured it would just be a really long nap. That's why I said yes. I like it when I go to sleep next to Bart, it makes me feel... like I'm important to him. Does that make sense?"

"Yes, it makes sense," Canary says, bringing some relief to me as she scribbles in her notes. "How was it? Before bed? When you were getting ready to sleep and when you laid down for the night?"

Once again, I think about it, trying to relive the memory. "I was already ready for bed when Bart showed up. We watched a movie - it was about some talking cars - and we sat next to each other, with Bart's arm around my hips. He keeps touching my hips. Why is he doing that?"

"I'm not hundred percent sure because I'm not Bart. Why do you think he does it?" I hate when she does this. When she makes it obvious she knows the answer but won't tell me what the answer is. It's supposed to 'encourage my thoughts and feelings to get to find the answer' which is stupid. If I knew the answer I wouldn't have asked the question.

"I don't know."

"I think you do, you're just scared of the answer." Maybe Canary isn't as nice as I thought.

I think over the question for a while, nothing but space in between Canary and me. "Well, today Bart said he likes how I feel, and then said he sounded creepy so he changed his answer to something about showing care and being shown it, I don't know."

Once again, the older hero stays silent, scribbling away at her notes. "Repeat that." This is really stupid.

"Bart said he likes how-"

"Not that part, the last part." Why did I ask to talk to Canary? This is a waste of time.

"His answer was something about showing care and feeling cared for," I repeat, my anger bubbling with my words.

"Again," she orders, not helping the growing frustration.

"Bart said he likes touching me because it's how he shows he cares and how he feels that he is cared about - oh..." Maybe Canary isn't stupid, and maybe I don't like the answer. Why would Bart care about me? I know he's supposed to since he's my companion and all, but other than supposedly having to, why does he?

There's a soft smile on her face as she looks at me. "See? You did know the answer, you just needed help putting the pieces together. What was the rest of the night like?"

"I don't know. We laid down after the movie and went to sleep."

"Was Bart touching you when you went to sleep?"

Why does that matter? "Yes, he had his arms around my hips and back like he did this morning."

"Why do you think he did that?"

I think about it for a moment. "Because... he was showing he cares...?"

Canary hums a yes as she nods in agreement. "People feel cared for in different ways. Some people - like Robin - feel cared for when people get them stuff like coffee, love letters, or even something as simple as a rock. Other people - like Bart - feel cared for when they're touched like hugs, kisses, and holding hands. Most of the time people show they care in the same way they feel cared for."

"Are those the only ways to feel cared for? I don't like any of those things."

Canary smiles softly again, before speaking. "There are five love languages. The two we already talked about are called receiving gifts and physical touch. There are acts of service like Batgirl helping Nightwing with paperwork. Words of affirmation is another one, stuff like being told you're doing good-"

"Ew," I say before I can stop myself. "I hate when Nightwing and Conner do that."

Canary nods, propping her head up with her arm. "Your love language is quality time. Stuff like napping with Bart or sitting with him when he plays his video games." I nod, the same way Canary does, as I roll her words around my head. I feel bad for thinking she was stupid, she's smart. "So, the time before sleeping was good, how was the actual sleeping?"

"What do you mean?" I ask, my confusion washing away all the understanding I had a second ago. I think this is why I don't like talking to Canary sometimes. She's good at making stuff make sense, and then ruining it the next time she asks a question.

"Did you sleep through the night?"

"Oh, I woke up a few times. I'd panic for a while before I realized it was Bart."

Back to silence, sounds of breathing and Canary's pen filling the space between us once again. "How'd this morning go?" She finally asks, being the one to break the silence again.

"I woke up confused."

"Because Bart was there?"

"Yes and no," I answer, getting a head tilt from the lady across from me. That usually means I answered in a way she wasn't prepared for. "I was happy to see Bart when I woke up and I did finally remember he was supposed to be there but I didn't know what to do. I didn't know if I should stick to my routine or not because waking up with him in my bed isn't part of my normal schedule."

"You don't do very well with change," She says softly like she does every time we discuss a change in my life.

"I know," I answer shortly, like always. "He ended up waking up shortly after and kept touching me again."

"Did you not like him touching you?"

"I didn't mind him touching me for most of it."

"And for the rest of it?"

I go silent again, replaying this morning in my head, trying to remember my thoughts and feelings in the moment. "Bart just... touched me differently I guess."

"Try rewording that." Occasionally Canary will say this, usually when she needs more context or doesn't understand what I'm saying.

"Bart... lifted my shirt. Not like a lot! Just a little bit, and kept touching my skin on my stomach and sides and I don't know," I rush out with a heavy tone, using my hands to model how much skin was showing. "It wasn't a lot," I repeat, a lot softer this time.

"Does it matter whether it was a little or a lot?"

Yes, it does. Why wouldn't it? "Different things happen depending on how much clothing is off. If it's a little bit it's just a check up and if it's a lot I get hurt."

Canary falls silent, pen still and her heart beats a bit faster. Maybe I shouldn't have said that. "Is that what happened when you were with Luther?" Her voice is a little uneven, but I'm surprised. Anytime we talk about how Luther used to hurt me her heartbeat picks up.

"Ya, it did. Do you think Bart would hurt me?"

Again, silence from the lady across from me, but her pen is at work this time and her heart is back to normal. "No one can be hundred percent sure someone else won't hurt anyone, but I do believe Bart wouldn't ever hurt you."

"Why?"

Silence. More silence, and then... some more silence. I hate how long Canary takes to answer my questions. "Has Conner talked to you about having a boyfriend or girlfriend?"

That's not an answer, that's another question. I think Canary just likes to make me angry. "He said I can love whoever I want to love, girlfriend or boyfriend."

She hums, no pen marks this time. "Do you know what a boyfriend or girlfriend is?" I shake my head no. I don't know what one is or the use of one. "A boyfriend or girlfriend is a lot like a friend. Do you know what a friend is?"

"A friend is someone you care about and trust and spend time with."

Another hum and another nod. "A boyfriend or girlfriend is kind of like that. A lot of the time, they start as friends or companions in your case, before a deeper relationship develops."

"I still don't see a difference."

"Well with a boyfriend or girlfriend, you tend to be more... physical. You do things like kiss among other things that you wouldn't do with a friend. Unlike a friend, you only have one and there's stuff you only do with them. Oh, and a boyfriend is a test run for a husband."

"What's a husband?"

"Let's save that discussion for after we get the boyfriend-girlfriend thing down."

"What's a girlfriend?" I ask finally, it's been three months since the first time I heard of it. The question has sat in my head ever since.

"Same as a boyfriend but it's a girl instead of a boy." Oh, that's simple. It makes me feel dumb for not figuring that out on my own. "Nightwing tells me you were having a panic attack when you came to find him."

"Panic attack?" I echo, confused about this and still confused about the whole boyfriend thing. I don't like feeling confused, it makes me angry and reminds me how little I know about the world because of Luther.

"Yes, it's when it's hard to breathe and you feel very scared, and it's hard to think straight because of your emotions. All you think about is your fear and what's causing it." Ya, I definitely had a panic attack earlier. "What happened right before you felt like that?"

I stay quiet, mentally going over the event. I know what happened. I remember all of this morning. I don't know why it makes me so scared. It shouldn't be scary for Bart to want my clothes off, right? Maybe it should be.

"Bart... he asked me to... he wanted to take a shower together," I stumble out, struggling on how to form my sentence.

"And that made you feel scared?"

I nod, propping my arms on my knees before burying my face into my hands. "Why would that make me feel scared? Why would it cause a panic attack?"

Like always, I have to wait for Canary to finish her writing and thoughts before she answers. From between my fingers, I watch as she leans forward, sitting in a similar pose to me. "I think that the idea of being without clothes around someone scares you because it reminds you of the things Luther has done to you. I also think that Bart believes he's your boyfriend. Have you two talked about that? Or kissed? Or anything else that you haven't done with another member of the team?"

The first half of Canary's speech makes sense. I understand that, I remember the fear I felt, the fear that before today, Luther was the only one to make me feel. The second half... not so much. Why would Bart think he's my boyfriend? We haven't kissed or anything else. We do things together, we spend time together, and we take naps.

"We haven't kissed and we haven't talked about him being my boyfriend. We hold hands but I do that with Conner as well. We take naps together too but again I do that with Conner."

"It's different with Conner. There's stuff you do and say with family that you wouldn't do with a friend." That doesn't make any sense either. My head hurts from all this thinking and I'm getting angry. I have more questions than answers. This isn't helping.

"People are confusing," I mumble, rubbing my face before sitting up straight.

Canary stays put, giving me another soft smile. I'm really starting to not like it when she smiles at me. "How about we stop for the day, ya? I'll come back and we can talk again tomorrow."

"What do I do about Bart?" I ask as she stands up and starts collecting her things.

It takes a second - like usual - for Canary to answer. "I think you should have a serious talk with him. See if he thinks he's your boyfriend. See if you want him to be your boyfriend. If you're happy with the talk, have another sleepover. If you're not, stay away from him today and we'll look into and talk about finding you another friend."

I don't want another friend. I want Bart. I want to keep him all to myself. For a long time, if not forever. Maybe I shouldn't want to keep him. Maybe that's me being possessive like Wolf gets about Conner and me. Conner always yells at Wolf about it so it has to be a bad thing, right? I need to find Bart and talk to him. Maybe he'll help my thoughts. Hopefully, he'll help my thoughts. As long as he doesn't make them worse.

————————————

My head is scattered when I walk back into my room. After my session with Canary, I went on a walk and then continued to walk, for two hours. Instead of helping, it just messed up my thoughts more. Canary didn't help, she just made me more confused.

Like earlier today, Conner calls for me as I walk through the living room. Once again, I ignore him. Conner tries to help with my thoughts but usually, he just confuses me or gets angry because he doesn't understand either.

A bit of relief runs through my veins when I swing my bedroom door open, but it's soon washed away. Laid out on my bed is my red-tinted companion, who instantly sits up when he hears the door open. "Y/N," he calls, jumping to his feet. "Are you okay? Nightwing said you had a panic attack. Did I cause it? What happened? Where have you been? Did I upset you? Did-"

"Please be quiet," I murmur, looking at my shoes as I try to push down my feelings. I'm upset that I made Bart worry, I'm upset that I can't control my fear, and I'm upset that Bart won't be quiet so I can answer his questions.

Surprisingly, Bart does silence. I can feel his eyes digging into me as I focus on my shoelaces. One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten... Maybe taking deep breaths and counting does help. "I am fine. I did have a panic attack, but it's fine. You did but didn't cause it. A lot has happened today. I was with Nightwing and then Canary and then I went on a walk. You did but didn't, once again."

"How did I both cause and not cause your panic attack? How did I cause and not cause you to be upset?" I glance at Bart, his face scrunched up and his eyes are pink. I decide to focus on the wall behind him instead. I don't like knowing I caused him to cry.

"You... I didn't... I don't like new and there was a lot of new this morning." My words stick in my throat a few times before I manage to get them out.

"I don't understand."

I sigh, glancing at his face again. His eyes are teary, making my heart feel like it's being squeezed. I don't want him upset, I want him happy, I'm supposed to make him happy. "I... liked you waking up in my bed. It feels... it makes me feel important."

"You are important. Very important to me, actually." Maybe my thoughts aren't always wrong. Why am I so important though? I don't do anything to be important. I definitely don't do anything to be important to Bart.

"The..." I stop for a second, running my fingers under my shirt. "That was fine. It was okay, but it made me a bit scared. Then you... kept touching me and... it makes me scared. Really, really scared." Bart steps forward a bit before stopping, causing himself to stand in an awkward half-leaning forward, half-staying put pose. "And... and then you asked to take a shower together and... all I could think about was you wanting to hurt me, about Luther hurting me."

Bart knows a lot about my time with Luther. He doesn't know the details like Canary and Conner do, but he knows about the tests, about the chocolate, about the hurting. He doesn't know about the on and off clothes, so I don't think it's fair that I'm upset with him. It's not fair for me to have a panic attack because of it. It's not fair that I make it seem like his fault.

"I didn't... I'm sorry," he mumbles, fixing himself so he finishes his step forward.

"It's not your fault. Luther hurt me, not you. It's not your fault. I just... I can't say no."

Bart takes slow steps forward, stopping right in front of me. His cheeks are wet. I made him cry. I don't want to make him cry. "I am sorry I kept touching you. I should have stopped when you told me you were worried. I know you... struggle with new things so I shouldn't have pushed anything new onto you this morning. I'm sorry."

His words feel nice. They make me feel calm. Silence envelopes us, it's not the usual gentle silence though, it's a heavy silence. "Do you think you're my boyfriend?"

Bart tilts his head some, his eyebrows pressing together in confusion. "Yes? Why are you asking? Do you not think I'm your boyfriend?"

Why would I think he's my boyfriend? I don't even know what a boyfriend is. Even with Canary's explanation, I'm still confused. "Canary told me that she thinks that you think you're my boyfriend. At the end of our session, she said to talk to you and see what you think and see if I want you to be my boyfriend. She also said if I'm happy with our talk to have another sleepover and if I'm unhappy to stop talking to you, which made me angry."

"I... have a lot of questions," Bart mumbles, confusion deeper on his face. "First, do you not know what a boyfriend is?"

"Not really. Canary said it was someone you are more physical with, and you kiss them, and you only have one, and something about a husband."

"Okay," he says, blinking his eyes a few times. "Um... a boyfriend is someone you love a lot. You do kiss them too and you do... other things that aren't important right now. It's someone you want to spend the rest of your life loving." Oh, that makes a lot more sense than what Canary said. "Why were you upset when Canary said to stop talking to me?"

Bart is dumb, and unlike Canary, he is actually dumb. "Because you're important. You're my companion. I want to keep you forever and I don't want anyone else to have you." Bart smiles at this but I'm not sure why. "But Conner yells at Wolf for being possessive so I don't think I'm supposed to feel like that."

Bart's smile gets bigger as he lets out an airy laugh. "Conner yells at Wolf because he growls when people get too close to you and when Conner spars. That's completely different from what you're feeling. You don't growl at people or threaten to hurt them if they talk or come near me." Oh... that makes a lot of sense.

"So, you're my boyfriend?"

"Do you want me to be your boyfriend?"

"Yes," I say, nodding in agreement to my statement.

"Do you actually want to spend the rest of your life with me or are you scared to say no?"

"I actually want to spend my life with you." It makes me sad even thinking about someone else getting to have Bart. He's supposed to be my companion.

Once again, Bart's smile grows as he looks at me. "Good, because I want to be your boyfriend."

"So, you're my boyfriend."

"So, I'm your boyfriend." The word sounds weird but nice.

"I still don't know what the difference between a boyfriend and a friend is though."

"We'll figure it out together, okay?" He says, slowly moving closer. "And we'll move slowly so you don't get scared again, and I'll start asking before I touch you, okay? Does that sound good?"

"Yes, it sounds very good. I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Bart goes to put his hands on my hips but freezes with them hovering over me. "Can I touch you?" I nod yes. "Do you actually want me to touch you or are you scared to tell me no right now?"

"I actually want you to touch me."

Once the words are out, Bart's hands are present on my hips, once again rubbing soft circles into me, over my clothes this time. "You don't need to be sorry. I scared you. I pushed too hard this morning. I should have talked to you instead of assuming you were okay with me touching you. I shouldn't have assumed I was your boyfriend. From now on we will talk about stuff more, okay? Maybe we can talk to Canary about doing couples therapy so we can work on making this work, ya?"

"Ya, I like that idea."

"I like that idea too." I have a boyfriend. Bart is my boyfriend. I get to keep Bart forever.

———————————————————————

———————————————————————

[miss-celestia13]

Richy and Aylin 🔥

Thank you so much for the love for these two recently! I am beyond grateful for every like, comment and reblog. I thought nobody would read or like it due to the pairing and some other things. Grateful just doesn’t cover it 🥰

I’ve fallen for these two so hard. They’re so much fun to play with. No boundaries, just selfish needs and wants. It’s so exciting to write something smutty where I can let my imagination run free without worrying about plot, character morals, emotions and everything that comes with that. It’s kind of freeing.

It was a change for me and a challenge I loved. Darker romance was something new to me. As were twisted characters. I’m so glad I was asked to do the first one or the second wouldn’t have happened! And it’s my favourite of the two. I usually hate and tear everything I write apart once it’s posted so it’s rare for me to still like something now. It was so much fun to do, so that helped. Whenever they decide to demand I write them another smutty adventure, I’ll share it and hope you don’t get sick of me😂

Links to the first two for anyone interested. Fucking, running from the law and two dark minds coming together to see how far they can push the other.

Run Towards the Monster

Kiss With a Fist

Thank you for everything! I still am so nervous each time I post but you have made it such an incredible experience. I can never repay that.

❤️

[fruitdragon1a]

After her designs went global, Marinette's assistant insisted that she set up an interview with a major news outlet to solidify the company's newfound popularity. Marinette agreed, scheduling an interview with a journalist from the local TVi. Little did she know that decision would be the best one she'd ever made.

[virgilisspidey]

Every once in a while i remember Randy Cunningham exists

[yenonnoff]

guys unfortunately no tmhtl update bc im procrastinating on writing ch 16 BUT‼️‼️ ive been working on a suna oneshot so 😼 ill post that instead of tmhtl!!

[lazysublimeengineer]

awake with your memory over me

Summary: That's a real fucking legacy to leave.

Or Takemichi and Mikey saw each other again after several years after the war between the Kantou Manji Gang & the 2nd generation of Toman. No time leaping has happened. AU.

Characters: Manjiro "Mikey" Sano, Hanagaki "Takemitchy" Takemichi, Chifuyu Matsuno & Senju Kawaragi

(A/N: Dedicated to @tinachan. Thank you for the continuous supports to my works and here is your request. Hoping that you’ll enjoy it as much as I did when writing it. Also, for the other readers, please mind the tags and rating of the story. Explicit sexual content ahead so read at your own risk. This is an AU fic meaning to say that there’s no timeleaping involve here and Takemichi continued to stay in the Kantou Manji timeline. Additionally, Takemichi and Hina didn’t get back together ever since they broke up in the BD arc. This one shot was also inspired by the song, “Maroon” from the Midnights album of Taylor Swift. Lastly, I don’t own anything from this franchise. Respective ownership belongs to Ken Wakui for this wonderful manga and Taylor Swift for this bittersweet yet memorable track).

When the morning came we

Were cleaning incense off your vinyl shelf

Cause we lost track of time again

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Like you were my closest friend

How’d we end up on the floor anyway?

You say, “Your roommate’s cheap-ass screw-top rosé,” that’s how

I see you every day now

The bright rays of the sun came beaming at him when he got out of the juvenile prison.

He automatically raised his left arm on his face as if to shield himself from the scorching heat of the sun as his other hand carried the duffel bag tightly on his grasp.

An audible sigh left his lips as he put his arm away and watched the surroundings in front of him.

12 years had passed.

But it felt like an eternity to Manjiro Sano.

The cold, grey walls and the iron bars on his cell were his mere companions and witnesses to the misery and anguish that he felt and endured every day and night.

He shook his head faintly and drove away those thoughts before it could wander again to the familiar presence that always haunted his mind and made his heart screamed out for his touch and smiles.

Mikey should keep going now.

No one was waiting to pick him up anyway.

And I chose you

The one I was dancin’ with in New York

No shoes, looked up

At the sky and it was

The familiar chime of the bell made his head looked up.

“Stop skipping lunch partner.” Chifuyu’s familiar admonishing voice washed over him and a small smile tugged on his lips.

“Just a sec. I’m almost done with the inventory Chifuyu.” Takemichi replied with an apologetic look on his face which made Chifuyu sighed lightly.

“Is he not done yet?” Senju’s familiar voice droned out as she entered the shop with the bell chiming in once again on the front door.

“Well, see for yourself.” Chifuyu raised his arms in defeat as he sat in one of the available chairs inside.

“You should eat on time y’know? That’s what the doctor told you know when you’re signed out from the hospital.” Senju sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Well, I am going to eat my lunch on time. Just give me a few minutes and I’ll be finish soon.” Takemichi tried to give her a reassuring smile.

Senju sent a silent look to Chifuyu’s direction to which the other held a defeated look on his face and shook his head faintly.

“Well, it better be partner. We don’t want to lose an available spot again on the diner because of the influx of the customers later.” Chifuyu drawled out to which a hummed of assent only left Takemichi’s lips as a response.

“We’ll be waiting for you outside Hanagaki.” Senju added and she motioned for Chifuyu to follow her outside to which they left Takemichi on his own again in the shop.

Takemichi should be used to it by now.

But for some unknown reason a certain mitigated feeling surrounded his chest as each day passed by.

He ignored the feeling and focused on what he was doing.

It’s useless to be dwelling on a wishful thinking anyway.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed the wine onto me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

His faint shadow was outlined on the ground as he stopped in front of his house.

Mikey stared at the wooden gate for a few seconds before he took out his keys and inserted it inside the keyhole and finally opened it.

His eyes wandered on the surroundings as his gaze swept up on the sight that greeted him.

Nothing much had changed except for the slight cobwebs that formed on the sides signaling that a cleanup should start soon to get rid of the dust and dirt that accumulated when no one was looking out for his abode while he was away in prison.

His gaze strayed on the other side of the place and landed on a familiar place of the house which brought a certain ache inside his heart.

A spot where Mikey, Emma, Draken and sometimes Takemichi used to hang out with after school or if there were no gang activities that they need to do for that day.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as the cheerful smiles, playful laughter and the ocean irises permeated his senses. His pace quickened, ignoring whatever noises or memories that had risen from the consciousness of his mind.

He needed to get his shit together.

And the only way to do so was to focus on getting back on track and drowned himself to whatever work that he needed to do to straighten out his life and reorient himself back to the society once again.

He blatantly ignored the way his heart was whispering to him to visit Takemichi.

Even though the pang inside his heart grew wider, he chose to ignore it for the next incoming weeks.

He didn’t need to bother the other’s life which was now peaceful and tranquil.

Not when he repeatedly hurt him previously and shattered his heart into tiny, little pieces.

Takemichi deserved better anyway.

When the silence came we

Were shaking blind and hazy

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

Sobbin’ with your head in your hands

Ain’t that the way shit always ends?

You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway

Carnations you had thought were roses, that’s us

I feel you no matter what, the rubies that I gave up

Mikey waved goodbye to the children who were now leaving his dojo.

Several weeks had now passed after he had opened the dojo of his late grandfather and continued running it under his hands.

He was slowly integrating back into the society and the daily routine of his life even though he experienced some difficulties at first as he previously became used to the daily lifestyle inside the prison wherein the guards or police officers where just calling or announcing their daily tasks and they had mindlessly followed it. Then he’d go to his scheduled checkups with his designated counsellor inside the cell.

But right now, this was his new life. His new freedom.

And he had to do things alone. Literally.

He had to stop himself from thinking about Emma or his late older brother to take care of the menial tasks around the house every day.

The cleaning, cooking and the household chores now fell solely on him.

There was a small part of him that was thankful for the change as it distracted his mind from wandering aimlessly to some of the memories that he chose not to dwell in.

Nevertheless, his heart was a traitorous part of himself.

It was stubborn. Determined. And sometimes a foolish organ.

Just like himself.

This should be one of those days where Mikey would treat this day as an ordinary, sunny day melting off from the vestiges of his calendar.

But it isn’t as soon as he decided to leave his house and headed inside the store to see those familiar royal blue eyes that continued to haunt him every day and night.

When I lost you

The one I was dancin’ with in New York

No shoes, looked up

At the sky and it was maroon

“Good afternoon welcome to—.” Takemichi stopped midway and his voice died down upon spotting the familiar face that he never thought would see again.

Those flaxen locks which were now shorter and dyed in jet black.

The once youthful face had now matured with a sharp angle of lines marring on his face that leant him a full-grown look of an adult that haunted him in those previous timelines.

And those eyes…

…those pair of midnight irises that continued to linger on his memories surreptitiously.

Of how he missed those piercing gaze on his frame like he was the only person that mattered to him the most.

Takemichi wanted to cry, yell, or even speak but he found his voice unable to come out as he could only stared mutely at the figure in front of him.

“Hello Takemitchy.”

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed the wine onto me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

Takemichi balled his fists to his side as he remained rooted to the spot.

“What are you doing here?” He found himself asking and Takemichi wanted to slap himself for letting those words to slip out from his lips the first time he saw him again.

That’s not what he wanted to say nor ask.

But at the same the simple question was burning at the tip of his tongue.

He remembered the time when he was rushed into the hospital on the brink of his own death after that fateful night of being stabbed by Mikey under the illusion of his own dark impulses.

With Sanzu’s sword impaling him deeply, the only logical consequence for him was dying in that very moment.

Nevertheless, like some unknown joke or an opportunity provided to him by the universe again, he found himself waking up in a hospital bed and staring blearily at the ceiling.

It was all a blur to him but he could make out Chifuyu’s crying face beside him, the doctors and the nurses monitoring his vital signs and the rest of the Toman visiting him quite often since then.

Takemichi gave a wobbly smile that day and asked weakly where Mikey was to which all of them fell silent and some of them looked away from him.

It felt like a déjà vu to him back in the reception hall of Pah Chin’s wedding in the future.

He was expecting another lie again to protect his torn mentality and weary soul from all the bloodshed and misery he went through with them for saving Mikey.

Not until…

Chifuyu admitted that Mikey was arrested by the police and was put into the juvenile prison.

For 12 years.

The verdict was that he’s gonna stay there for 12 years.

Takemichi’s heart was torn to pieces a long time ago and he thought that nothing could ever probably break it.

But hearing those words from Chifuyu made it hard for him to breathe as if his own heart was splintering harshly everywhere.

However, it was unavoidable.

Seeing the crimes, he committed.

It was only a matter of time before he eventually ended up in the same fate as Kazutora.

After being confined in the hospital for quite some time and being discharged, the first thing he did was to visit Mikey in the prison.

But the other refused to meet him.

Not even getting a glimpse of him.

But it didn’t deter him at first. And he continued to visit him and failed to see him every time.

Until Chifuyu almost pleaded at him to stop doing it. His best friend was still worried about the rejection he experienced every time he went out of the visitor’s hall with a lukewarm smile on his face and serenely downcast eyes that almost made his best friend’s heart went out for him.

It was a wakeup call to him.

An event that he needed to realize that he needed to move on and pick up the pieces of his life together.

Without Mikey by his side.

At first it hurts. It hurts like fucking hell. But if it’s the price that he needed to pay for grappling and meddling with timelines just to save him, he’ll endure it. Even if he can feel his heart was being ripped out from his chest at every rejection he experienced every time he tried to visit him.

So, now when he was starting to finally move on from him…Mikey decided to waltz again back into his life like it was nothing.

Was a this a cruel joke from fate that he needed to experience and endure once again?

“I… I wanted to see you Takemitchy…” Mikey’s soft yet hesitant voice cut off his derailing thoughts and Takemichi couldn’t help but to laugh bitterly on it, his sight was getting blurry and eyes were stinging but he refused to let out his tears this time.

He cried so much for him already that it felt wrong to shed tears for him once again.

“That’s funny Mikey-kun because that’s not how you made me feel back then to those times where I visited you in prison.” Takemichi wanted to punch himself for letting the hurt bleed into his words where he wanted to mock him instead.

“Takemitchy…” Mikey started off in an uncharacteristic mellow voice that he couldn’t help but to glance up at him and tried not to catch his breath at the expression he was making. His eyes were serenely downcast and a sad smile was painted on his lips.

“It wasn’t my intention to make you feel that way… I thought that by pushing you away Takemitchy I’m doing you a favor and atoning for the sins that I’ve caused in every timeline which always ended up being terrible because of me. But I guess I didn’t learn any better huh? The things that I’ve been doing to make them right were making things worst… I’ve hurt you time and time again even if I didn’t mean to… But that’s no excuse Takemitchy for being a fucking terrible person to you…” His voice cracked at the end.

“And why are you here now?” Takemichi asked shakily.

“I’m here because I still love you… And I wanted to see you… That no matter how many times I can lie to myself that I should leave you be and this is for the best, my heart won’t shut up about you. I’m sorry for everything… I know it’s too late and this won’t amount to anything for the fucking misery that I’ve caused but I just want you to know I’m still in love with you and there can be nobody else that would make me feel the way you make me felt towards you. But… But… I’ll understand if you don’t want anything to do with me. You’re not obligated to—.”

Mikey stopped midsentence and his eyes widened for a fraction of second as Takemichi suddenly stormed into his spot and pounded his fists into his chest, his head dropping down on his left shoulder.

“Damn you to hell Mikey-kun…! How dare you come back and say that to me! Just as I was… As I was…. Slowly moving on from you then you came storming into my life again unexpectedly…!” A small sob tore out from Takemichi’s lips as tears finally came crashing down from his eyes like a waterfall, wetting the sleeve of Mikey’s shirt.

“T-takemitchy…” Mikey was taken aback but only for awhile before his eyes softened and one of his hands reached up to card through his locks gently.

“I’m still an idiot because… because… the feeling is mutual Mikey-kun. I can’t fall in love with somebody else if it’s not you. I’m a fucking moron but I… I… I wanna take a gamble again with you because I know that you’re worth it…” Takemichi whispered faintly, small hiccups slipping past his lips.

“Guess we’re both idiots then Takemitchy.” Mikey chuckled softly, blinking back the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes. “But I’m your idiot though. And you’re the one who can only hold my heart until the day I die.” He added before he gently pulled away and tilted Takemichi’s face to reveal that familiar crying face of his and those deep blue eyes that he can drown himself in.

His thumb reached out to gently caressed his cheek and wiped away the tears from his face before he slowly leaned down and remove any remaining gap between the two of them and captured his lips in a kiss that’s been waiting for them in a lifetime.

Awake with your memory over me

That’s a real fucking legacy that you see (It was maroon)

Awake with your memory over me

That's a real fucking legacy to leave

Upon feeling the other’s lips against his own, an electrifying sensation shot down through his veins making his body sizzled out in scintillating sensation.

He always just dreamed of it. Those sleepless nights wondering what it would feel like to be enveloped in his awaiting arms once again and to feel his warmth embrace engulfing him.

But now it was much better in reality.

Takemichi’s hands carded along his hair and massaged on his scalp as Mikey backed him against the wall, instinctively deepening their shared kiss when he sensed that the other reciprocated passionately on their tight embrace.

His tongue coaxed at the entrance of his mouth to let him in to which Takemichi gladly do so and opened his mouth wider to let the other’s tongue explored the interiors and sensitive seams of his own mouth. A moan slipped past him as he felt him licking through the roof of his mouth while the other’s hand gently caressed and kneaded on the side of his hips.

“M-Mikey-kun…” He mumbled hotly against his lips as his legs automatically wrapped themselves around his waist for leverage and support because of the overwhelming sensations bombarding throughout his body.

“Hm?” He mouthed distractedly as his tongue was busy exploring the deepest crevices of his mouth which elicited soft moans from the other and his hand was now inside his shirt and mapping the sensitive flesh of his torso which had the other shaking like a leaf against him.

Takemichi briefly pulled away to catch his breath and ended their kiss reluctantly. Nevertheless, Mikey didn’t waste his time and let his eager mouth travelled down on the pale column of his neck where he showered it with heated kisses and love bites.

“Ha… Mikey-kun… C-careful I’m s-sensitive there…” Takemichi moaned out as his hands were now on the lapels of his shirt and gripping it for support.

“I know… But you’re so cute like this Takemitchy… Can’t help myself…” Mikey breathed out as his tongue lapped at the sensitive skin, his hot breaths leaving a trail of fire as his mouth grew bolder and hungrier, going down below his chest where he mouthed the flesh even if is shirt was still on, his other hand gripping his sides tightly to secure his spot on the wall.

“W-would you wanna take this upstairs? Bedrooms on the left side… I d-don’t think it’s wise to be doing this if we’re going to caught by a c-customer…” Takemichi stuttered out in between his gasps and moans.

As much as Mikey wanted to tease him and watch him fall apart against the wall, he was too pent up and wanted to take the blond in his arms right there and then.

“Okay…” He murmured before he pulled away and scooped him up on his arms, not wasting his time as he made his way upstairs going to his bedroom.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed the wine onto me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was maroon

The mark you saw on my collarbone, the rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home, so scarlet, it was maroon

Mikey didn’t waste his time as he proceeded to put Takemichi on the mattress with ease, throwing his shirt somewhere from the ground.

Takemichi watched in rapt attention, mesmerized with the way Mikey was moving, half of his mind was still in a daze and thinking that this must be a dream because he would never think that they would see each other like this.

And if it was a dream, it was one that he wished he would never wake up on.

As soon as Mikey discarded his shirt recklessly on the ground, his hands deftly moved to his pants where he unbuckled it. While Takemichi’s eyes feast on the lean, sculpted frame of the other. He wasn’t bulky or too muscly per se but it revealed on how toned his physique was. That despite being in juvenile prison, he was still involved in strenuous activities that maintained his shapely thighs and well-toned body.

As if by some force urging him to turn around, Mikey slowly faced Takemichi’s direction and found out the other was eyeing him with unabashed admiration and want, his ocean blue eyes turned a tad darker and was swimming in lust and need. A small smirk found its way towards Mikey’s lips as their eyes clashed. Indigo irises meeting his obsidian ones. A shiver ran up through Takemichi’s spine upon meeting his intense gaze. His sable orbs bored right through his soul as if Mikey was seeing through his innermost thoughts and he couldn’t hide anything from him.

“See something that you like?” He asked throatily.

Takemichi couldn’t stop the rosy hues coating his cheeks upon hearing his question and the way he caught him staring like some lovestruck fool.

“Stop being too cocky Mikey-kun…” He tried to warn him but it came out as a soft whine which made the other chuckle lowly.

“You’re still you Takemitchy. And that’s what I love about you.” Mikey murmured softly which made Takemichi’s heart somersault wildly inside his chest.

He could only stare at the other completely mesmerized as he descended and crawled slowly beside him on the bed after successfully discarding all his clothes.

Upon reaching his spot, Mikey stopped right on top of him. There was a soft yet inscrutable expression on his face as one of his hands had reached down to caress his cheek gently.

“S-shut up M-Mikey-kun… D-don’t ruin the moment by being cheesy…” Takemichi grumbled out in a stuttering voice but his cheeks were painted in crimson red but refused to let him know how his words melted his entire being right there and then.

A saucy grin made its way towards Mikey’s face before he leaned down on his face, stopping a few inches from him. “If you say so.” He whispered throatily before he captured his lips in a deep kiss and his hands started to take off his clothes one by one.

A light gasp escaped from Takemichi’s lips but he reciprocated his kiss, matching his passionate rhythm with his own. He couldn’t help but to whined and whimpered softly as he felt the other’s tongue brushing along the roof of his mouth, the ecstasy running through his veins.

Mikey continued in kissing him ferociously, taking advantage of the other’s whimpers and slipped his tongue inside the entrance of his mouth wherein he explored the crevices and sensitive nooks inside of it.

Takemichi trembled underneath him like a shaking leaf as Mikey’s hands caressed every part of his body in a way that left him breathless and wanting for more.

Upon reaching his plump buttocks, he gave it a soft squeeze before one of his fingers had started to breach in his warm entrance which made Takemichi moan against his mouth. His finger circled around his quivering walls expertly, trying to loosen him up when he inserted another finger and began scissoring him.

Takemichi jolted slightly when Mikey hit a certain spot that made him see stars right that instant. It made Mikey smirk.

“Found it…” He mumbled hotly against his lips.

Takemichi briefly pulled away with a drool and lecherous moans leaving from his lips as the onslaught of ecstasy bombarded his senses when Mikey continued hitting on his sweet spot.

“M-Mikey-kun…” He whined needily as he bucked his hips for more, wanting more friction against their bodies.

Mikey continued to abuse his sweet spot repeatedly resulting in the other being a complete drooling and moaning mess beneath him.

“What?” He breathed out as he licked his lips slowly.

“P-please… I-I w-want m-more…” He whimpered against him.

And how could Mikey refuse those bewitching ocean blue eyes and pleading yet sultry voice of his?

If it was another time, Mikey could’ve tease and edge him more but not today.

Not today.

When he wanted him. Desperately.

“If that’s what my Takemitchy wants… then I’ll simply grant it…” Mikey murmured as he slowly pulled out his fingers which resulted to the other whining because of the loss of contact.

But only for a moment as Mikey situated himself on top of him and pulled on his legs on his shoulders. He gave himself a few pumps before he plunged in and breached his sensitive walls with a one, swift thrust which made them both moaned out in ecstasy and in unison.

Takemichi stilled beneath him, the scalding sensation of his member penetrating his insides almost made him melt and split into half because of how thick and wide it was in girth which made him took a deep, shuddering breath as his body shivered from the impact.

On the other hand, Mikey paused beneath him and swallowed thickly. He tried to let Takemichi adjust to their current situation even though his body was screaming at him to take him recklessly and plowed him ferociously on the mattress.

“T-tell me when you get used to it Takemitchy…” He whispered breathlessly, gripping his sides tightly that he swore it would leave bruises tomorrow.

A few moments would pass before one of Takemichi’s hand had rose to cradle Mikey’s nape and brought him down to his face to brush his lips gently against his own.

“Don’t hold back for me Mikey… I want to feel every part of you… I want to feel what your body and heart sincerely wants with me…” He murmured softly against his lips.

And just like a thin thread snapping out of Mikey’s senses, the last vestiges of control slipping instantaneously from his entire being and washed him through the shores of lust and ecstasy.

“If that’s what you really want Takemitchy then I’ll gladly do so…” He mumbled back hotly on his lips and gave him a one, last deep kiss before he pulled away and thrust right back into his scorching heat with intense ferocity and lust that made Takemichi mewled like a helpless kitten beneath him.

“F-fuck…! F-feels good Mikey-kun…! Please don’t stop…!” He moaned out salaciously as Mikey’s thrusts grew faster and harder until he was pounding him relentlessly on the bed which creaked violently from their wild movements.

“Fuck you feel good around me Takemitchy! I missed this…! I missed the feeling of you tightening around me like you’re made for my cock alone!” Mikey groaned out as he held the other’s hips in a bruising grip, the feeling of the other’s walls holding his cock in a vice like grip made him lose his mind and catapulted into the sea of pleasure and need of the other.

“Ngh… God… Feels good… Why’re you so big…! Hit there harder…!” Tears of pleasure streamed down on Takemichi’s face when the other finally reached his sweet spot and abused it repeatedly which made his body went into an overdrive and he came too soon, the splashes of his cum painting their chests in white.

“You came unexpectedly without me Takemitchy? How naughty of you. Guess you’ll lend me a hand to make me come too, right?” A wicked smirk ghosted around Mikey’s lips as one of his fingers brushed along his chest and swiped on the cum towards his lips teasingly.

Takemichi’s eyes widened briefly at the action before a loud moan escaped from his sinful lips when Mikey flipped him over the mattress and his pace grew deeper and rougher, his cock hitting all the right places inside his body which was still sensitive from coming too soon. He continued to rail him mercilessly on the mattress, the blazing heat of their bodies and the cacophonies of their lecherous moans ringing out against the four walls of the room.

“Ah! Ah! Ah! Mikey-kun if you keep going on at this rate I’ll come again!” Takemichi mewled out like a bitch in heat but he couldn’t even stop his body from reacting instinctively as his hips were grinding back harder against the other’s thrusts on his body.

“Can’t even fucking stop when you felt so good around me Takemitchy…!” Mikey growled out lowly. “Fuck! I love you! Gonna come soon!”

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Fuck! Please give it to me!” Takemichi whined out before a salacious moan slipped out from his lips as he felt Mikey convulsed on top of him and the hot, scalding sensation of his cum painting his walls in white and filled him up to his brim instantaneously.

A loud groan escaped from Mikey’s lips as he reached his peak and splashed his load into the other’s walls before his knees gave up and fell on top of him.

Their ragged breathing and loud heartbeats were the only sounds reverberating inside the room until he felt Takemichi’s hands carding through his locks which made him sigh out in contentment.

He was almost dozing off before he heard Takemichi’s soft voice in a faint whisper which made him smile and heart soared out in happiness and delight.

“I love you too, Mikey-kun.”

It was maroon

It was maroon

(A/N: My first one shot in this fandom for this year. Not my best but I tried. I’ll prolly work on my in-progress TR fics soon but the succeeding chapters will take time because I’ll be busy with work and career so hopefully you can wait patiently for that. Belated happy new year everyone. Reviews are amusing so let me hear them from you).