#now if only I could change my last name without my family making a stink. its the name of my gross polygamist ancestor.

[midnight-in-eden]

Yes yes yes the dark grimy satanic apostate aesthetic fucks hard but also. I am infinitely cleaner than a racist, sexist, bigoted religion with a history of polygamy and child brides and sex abuse coverups that still sees adult men privately interviewing children about their sexual “sins” as a normal and ok thing. The church is not clean no matter how many bright white temples it builds or bright white jumpsuits it baptizes people in or bright white pairs of underwear it sells.

[lectercunt]

more omega Hannibal fic list please 💗

Thanks for the request! Below are my Omega!Hannibal fic recommendations. Read responsibly and mind the tags!

The only fic ranked on this list is the first—stink in the nostrils by murdertrout. It is my favorite fic of all time, period, and just happens to be Omega!Hannibal. The last fic on the list is mine. Enjoy <3

stink in the nostrils

Secret Omega Hannibal is not pleased that he has imprinted on Will Graham. He avenges himself on his biology by getting Will Graham put behind bars. But when Will figures out what he’s been hiding and tampers with his suppressants, triggering his first heat, they both get more than they bargained for.

put your aching teeth to good use, my dear

Fromage AU. When Will sees Hannibal in his office, bloody but alive, he goes into a feral rut. Hannibal tries to pacify him.

prime

He bares his teeth in a smile that makes Will answer in kind. "I'll find you," he says; a threatening promise of his own. Will grins, and purrs for him in a way that makes Hannibal ache all over again. "Good," he replies. "I want you to."

feral

“Will,” Jack Crawford growls down the line, “Tell me Hannibal Lecter never confided in you that he was an Omega.” “Oh, shit.” “Oh, shit,” Jack agrees. They’ve come a long way from the old days, where Omegas in heat would slaughter anyone who stood between them and their chosen Alpha. Where Omegas would fight each other to the death in order to claim their prize, and some Alphas died of rut exhaustion or from injuries sustained from a too-eager Omega. Now, Omegas temper their heats with stabilizing pills and Alphas have a say in who they breed. But there would have been no stabilizing pills provided to an incarcerated Beta.

asserting dominance (dead dove!)

Hannibal has spent years of imprisonment without Will properly acknowledging their mating bond. When Hannibal sends the Dragon to kill Molly and Walter, he finally provokes Will into action: to remedy his jealous behavior by inducing his heat, and putting him in his place.

top dog, lost kitten

Hannibal, an omega catboy belonging to a rich family, finds himself drawn to a stray alpha dogboy by the name of Will. When Hannibal wanders the streets during his heat, he gets unwanted attention. As he had hoped, Will is there to look out for him.

soaked through

Season 3 AU, where Will shows his face and instead of receiving pain, Hannibal receives everything he's ever wanted.

we don't need to heal

Tired of wasting resources dealing with a horrific Omega criminal who is definitely not insane, the BSHCI and the FBI decide that the best course of action is to have him mated to an Alpha who can keep him under control. Find an Alpha for the job, and Hannibal Lecter can be out of their hands for good. Will Graham enters the BSCHI, believing himself to have been selected to interview the notorious killer about a cold case that has recently been attributed to him. What he finds instead will change their lives forever, and leave him wracked with guilt. Hannibal, on the other hand, could not be more satisfied with how things panned out for them both.

distraction

Hannibal smiles, purring softly, and leans down to nuzzle Will's forehead. "You needn't be so distressed, darling," he murmurs. There is blood on Will's neck, and his cut palm smears more fresh up his mate's bare forearm. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, so he can give Will all of his scent. Hannibal licks the smear of his own slick on Will's cheek, his purr for a moment growing louder. "When have I ever denied you?"

tables turned (dead dove!)

When Will turns a gun on him, Hannibal goes into heat. Will decides to toy with him before giving him what he wants.

an unexpected guest

Ten-year-old Henry Lecter’s sitter just bailed, leaving him alone to watch over his younger siblings. And that would have been fine, had a man from the FBI not chosen that precise moment to show up at their door. or Will and Hannibal got a little too close in Naka-Choko, resulting in a surprise pregnancy. Rather than having the bloody canon break-up, they took their new family, including Abigail, and skipped off to Europe for their happily ever after. Enter Jack, tracking them down almost eleven years later in the quaint Italian countryside, with only young Henry there to protect the family.

stronger than memory (dead dove!)

"Your real name can't possibly be Schatje." "It's the only real thing you need to know, Will." “Fine, at least tell me what it means.” It wasn’t a question nor a request, but a statement. "It means little treasure." “And are you, then? A little treasure?”

cover to cover (the mark of a lover)

Will and Hannibal are both Omegas. After Tobias' death, Will takes Hannibal home. Hannibal comes to the realization that, if the world will not give him the Alpha he so desires... he will create one.

time reversed

Hannibal and Will traverse an unexpected intimate development.

black in the moonlight

With his upcoming dinner with Hannibal and Jack hanging heavy on his mind, Will is drawn to Hannibal's house in the middle of the night. What he finds there affects him—for better or worse, it's hard to say.

trick me twice

Hannibal and Will are leaders of allied gangs, and were friends at one point - until Hannibal almost killed Will and sent him to prison. Now he needs Will's pack, his numbers, to stop his own pack being overrun. Will might never trust him again, but there's no reason they cannot keep things professional. At least, that's what Hannibal tells himself, as he enters the BSHCI to ask for Will's help.

a rare bouquet

Will finds himself drawn in by the darkness at Hannibal’s core—something only fully revealed in heat when the violent deaths of his alpha suitors can be legally excused. When Will witnesses the aftermath of one of those murders first hand, he feels compelled to begin a courtship, wanting to see everything that lies beneath the surface. But what he seeks is not tame, and it will take more than flowers to earn its respect.

into the wild

Alpha Will stumbles upon a feral Omega in Lithuanian forests. Too fascinated to leave him be, he follows him, not knowing what awaits him.

genesis

The fish of Hannibal's trust is a spritely and skittish thing, but Will is patient. He can follow the bubbles in the water and the shining slip of scales within the currents. He can fashion beautiful lures, both mental and physical, to please and soften his mate.

brouillé

Unthinkingly, he reaches into the drawer and pulls out the top shirt, holding it to his face and breathing in. No bleach, only the faintest trace of salt sweat, and none of the bitter fear he had expected. Instead, what Hannibal inhales is the pure, unsuppressed scent of alpha.   That’s all it takes. One. Deep. Breath.

use your words

“Don’t worry, darling,” Hannibal says softly. “I know just what you need. You’re here for a reason—because you need a Daddy to guide you. So let go of your preoccupation with control and let me take care of you.”

series: other people's hearts

Truck driver Will suddenly finds himself with an armful of bloody omega named Hannibal, far too young and pretty to be hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere, and to Will's horror… fast approaching heat.

on the grounds where we feel safe

"Single Omega household seeking a primary caretaker for high-school aged female. Must own vehicle for chauffeuring, errands, and other duties as necessary. Room and board provided, and a stipend for necessities available for negotiation. Must have open availability and be willing to submit to a background check and drug test. Immediate start." Then a name, and a phone number. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

it takes two to nest

When Hannibal hears a commotion down the hall at the hospital, naturally he goes to investigate. When he finds out that the omega patient, a Mr. Will Graham, is struggling so hard that the doctors are having difficulties handling him, naturally he is intrigued. And when he finds out that the on-call OBGYN has been delayed, naturally he steps in to deliver Will's baby himself. Dr. Hannibal Lecter can do anything, after all. Including deliver someone else's baby while minutes away from going into labor himself.

sweet tooth

He has prepared for this, of course. No self-respecting Omega of his stature and skill would deign to let themselves be taken by surprise. Although, again, he has not expected his final heat to approach for some time, it is one of those occurrences people prepare for like Doomsday. He has plans, and bags packed, and knows what he will need to do, to make sure he makes it through the ordeal with minimal discomfort. The first step will be to hunt, to stock his fridge and his stores so he will not go hungry. The second step will be to find a suitable companion.

slow like honey

Hannibal’s childbearing years are behind him, but Will manages to send him into his first heat in years. Will offers to help him out—it’s the least he can do.

duty calls

Tonight, Will is hungry.

[edenmemes]

assassin’s creed valhalla starters

words within ‘()’ are additional, optional choices! more maybe to be added at a later date. some n/sfw present. 

❝ you should see the other man. he got the worst of it. ❞   ❝ and who better to lead us to glory than me? ❞ ❝ i am most at home helping others. ❞       ❝ i’ve waited long enough for you, and you for me. ❞   ❝ thank you for not saying anything about my past. ❞       ❝ know that however far away, you’re always in my thoughts. ❞   ❝ when you see your god, tell them i sent you. ❞   ❝ what you make up in muscles, you’re lacking in spine. ❞   ❝ i almost envy you, to see the world through such a muddy glass and live with such petty concerns. ❞   ❝ i smell the stink of a dozen kingdoms in your beard. ❞   ❝ this feud is not yours, yet you fight it all the same. i find that strange. ❞   ❝ by the look on your face, you have lost your will to live. ❞   ❝ my arms are numb from battle. does it need any dressing?    do you think it is a serious wound? ❞   ❝ oh dear. this is not how i foresaw things. not at all! ❞   ❝ should we take this to your chamber? ❞   ❝ i want this. i want you. ❞   ❝ turn around, walk away, and you keep your insides inside. ❞   ❝ stay back! back! i will fight you! ❞   ❝ you look like reddened shit. what happened? ❞   ❝ i have always wanted to experience the world as you do. ❞   ❝ you come like a valkyrie out of a fog. but i have no dead to give you. ❞   ❝ all right, stay close and do as i do. ❞   ❝ home. or...it was home, once. now it is nothing but bone. ❞   ❝ i’ll have no qualms wiping clean your grin. ❞   ❝ just take care. such hatred can make you careless. ❞   ❝ away from your table for a day and you are already lusting for blood. ❞   ❝ if i did not know any better, i would say you are teasing me. ❞   ❝ the dream of new lands is a powerful lure. ❞   ❝ i love climbing up here. makes me feel as high as a raven. ❞   ❝ if i don’t find your horse, i will steal you a new one. ❞   ❝ i feel somewhat trapped. in this room, in this settlement, in this life. ❞   ❝ you are lost in a sea-storm of your own making. ❞   ❝ the poet in you sings once again. ❞   ❝ tonight, we will eat and drink like gods and wake in a kingdom made new. ❞   ❝ i wish i understood you better. for those i do not understand, i do not trust. (and i cannot stomach a lack of trust.) ❞ ❝ i’ve been called worse. ❞   ❝ you have nothing to fear from me. i bear you no ill will. ❞   ❝ you are a shadow of your father. weak and witless. ❞   ❝ what is this? is this...are we in hell? ❞   ❝ keep company with kings and you will soon have a crown of your own. ❞   ❝ a toothless cub may grow to be a dangerous wolf. ❞   ❝ you are far too young to speak so wise. ❞   ❝ i need clear, sound judgement. i need you. ❞   ❝ kind and courageous people live the best lives, but it can be a difficult path to keep. ❞ ❝ i want to say...i love you. and i have for some time. ❞ ❝ you smell that? the stink of jealousy. (of our budding friendship, i think). ❞   ❝ ah, while i have you, i’m reminded...i have this for you. ❞   ❝ your lies are just like you. big and bold. ❞   ❝ don’t excuse yourself. you enjoy this too much. ❞   ❝ you've come back. why are you wasting your time with me? ❞   ❝ care to sing a song? helps me pass the time. ❞   ❝ that is twice you have earned my admiration. ❞   ❝ you have only the setting sun to tell you when to stop. ❞   ❝ i want to know what you know. name your price. ❞   ❝ people like you deserve something worse than death. ❞   ❝ they called me a lout, a disgrace. they were right. ❞   ❝ i will have to get used to watching the sights of war from afar now. ❞   ❝ there’s no other way. fight or hide. it’s up to you. ❞   ❝ do not think me a coward. i am not afraid of war. ❞   ❝ friendships end. often at the point of a spear. ❞ ❝ i will make you beg as your father begged. ❞   ❝ (until that time,) it would be best to keep all discussions about...    about us to yourself. ❞ ❝ without you i would have lost my way a thousand times. ❞   ❝ you have no other friends. so tread lightly here. ❞   ❝ be it a blessing or a curse, family is always first. ❞   ❝ let’s not walk too far with that idea. i need you right where you are. ❞   ❝ you bested me. yet, i’m the one left standing. ❞   ❝ it’s a pleasure to meet you at least. ❞   ❝ you and your people here have done more for me than i could ever repay. ❞   ❝ you have my highest respect, regard, and trust. ❞   ❝ you’re not shy, are you? ❞   ❝ if we do this, you’ll earn the right to call me friend ten-thousand fold. ❞   ❝ does this have the stench of betrayal to you? ❞ ❝ today has meant so much. we rode, we fought, we drank, we laughed. (you showed me your world.) ❞       ❝ your end was written the moment you came for me. ❞   ❝ i am a sellsword. i ask what i please, and i take what i’m owed. ❞ ❝ you move and i will take your eyes. you hear me? ❞   ❝ i will leap first. on my word, you must follow. ❞   ❝ many times i wished to tell you. wished to say what was in my heart and what i desired. (but duty kept me from it.) ❞   ❝ these wounds will heal quickly. you’re lucky. ❞   ❝ anything to help you feel at home. ❞   ❝ our friendship is the best thing to come from this mess. ❞   ❝ you will be remembered for this, for years to come. ❞   ❝ i thought i had lost you. for good this time. ❞   ❝ you have shown me a great kindness. it is only fitting that i do the same. ❞   ❝ the mess you’re in...you don’t know the half of it. ❞   ❝ you have drawn a dark conclusion about me, haven’t you? (that is all well and good. i’ve drawn some about you as well.) ❞   ❝ you seem...strangely familiar. ❞   ❝ here i am, an upright man who never once learned how to bend the knee. and yet...i shall try. ❞ ❝ that’s a bread knife. do you mean to butter me? ❞   ❝ is that not something you worry over? ❞   ❝ a blind pursuit of vengeance has made you predictable. ❞   ❝ no matter where you are, or how far you travel, i will hunt you down. ❞   ❝ i came for you, looking for a friend and ally. ❞   ❝ people change.    it may be that you change with them, or you go your separate ways. ❞   ❝ i wish you whatever peace you may find in this new life you’ve found. ❞   ❝ i want your word: you will follow my orders. ❞   ❝ the day is new, and the air is bracing. are you ready for the fight ahead? ❞   ❝ er...good to meet you as well? ❞   ❝ what riches are worth so much misery, and the deaths of honorable men and women? ❞   ❝ my destiny is mine to weave. ❞   ❝ my road forward has been a muddy one. slick with blood and tears. (but we can reach its end together.) ❞   ❝ it is a wise leader who considers the needs of others. ❞   ❝ i think my mouth has gotten me in enough trouble today. ❞   ❝ at the end of all things, you will find yourself with nothing but your regrets. ❞   ❝ you saw fit to keep me guessing through your fits of madness. ❞   ❝ by all the gods, what was that? ❞   ❝ i was...restless. a quiet walk alone clears the head. ❞   ❝ when winter is past, summer will come and wind you in a flowered skirt, for you are beauty and shall not wither. ❞   ❝ ...unless you had a more interesting day planned for us? ❞   ❝ i do hope you see it now, for all you have done for me. ❞   ❝ your passion, your strength. i have never met such a burning soul. ❞   ❝ i have no guilt nor regret for what we have done, but we should be careful. ❞   ❝ i see before me a person full of passion, vigor, and a love for their people. ❞   ❝ if i wanted to hear you talk shit, i’d cut out your tongue and shove it up your ass. ❞   ❝ you! you look stronger than most of the others. ❞   ❝ your hatred for me burns bright. i could warm my balls on it. ❞   ❝ you’re quite like your arms: incredibly thick. ❞   ❝ i fought as i do, as hard as i do, to survive. (for i know what awaits us in the end. only darkness.) ❞   ❝ a shameful trick. you are your father’s child. ❞   ❝ you destroyed my life. i will take yours. ❞   ❝ you snore a little, like a wounded bear. ❞   ❝ that’s when i knew i would live and die for you. ❞   ❝ i’m going to pretend your last words were taken by the wind. ❞   ❝ i might still kill you yet, if your prattling doesn’t cease. ❞   ❝ you are weak like your father was weak. (you dance better than you fight.) ❞   ❝ have you ever seen muscles as massive as mine? ❞   ❝ i’m honored by your faith in me. and your confidence. ❞   ❝ after my missteps, i worry what you must think of me. ❞   ❝ with so much blood in the water and death in the air, i’d like to know your name and purpose. ❞ ❝ i have a good feeling about this place. ❞   ❝ you helped me reclaim what i had lost in myself. ❞       ❝ you speak of honor. where’s yours? ❞       ❝ you will throw away all reason to defend what you sworn to. ❞       ❝ you really are like a hero out of folk tales. ❞       ❝ how much would you sacrifice to be freed of fate’s shackles? (would you give your tongue, your hand, your sight?) ❞   ❝ there’s no power strong enough to do what you say. ❞       ❝ please, you must fight for me.    who knows what vile people might come to harm me? ❞   ❝ i have no need to count my kills. they number too many. ❞   ❝ i appreciate you for all of your qualities. ❞ ❝ not even the gods can change fate. ❞       ❝ i think it is time i take my leave. ❞ ❝ you really thought my life was in danger? (and you risked your own life...) ❞ ❝ the path ahead is bright, with glory at its end. ❞ ❝ it is easy to lose one's way on the road to glory. do not let false victories blind you to what is true. ❞ ❝ the act of leaving so beloved a home, there is a sadness to it. ❞       ❝ so there’s nowhere...you call home? ❞   ❝ all things end. ruins are not a warning, they are a testament. ❞   ❝ be nice to sleep in a real bed when this is over. ❞   ❝ in my sleep i dream. and in my dreams i see an end to the doom that will grip the earth once again. ❞   ❝ even when we win, we lose. ❞   ❝ i am as good with my lips, as i am with my tongue. ❞   ❝ is this your idea of a pleasant ride through the country? ❞   ❝ no whispering god brought me here. i brought myself. ❞   ❝ i would like very much to pass some time with you. ❞   ❝ ...and that’s how i got that scar. ❞   ❝ do i now haunt your dreams? ❞   ❝ it was never in their character to lead, it was always within yours. ❞   ❝ so easily wounded by words. imagine the ruin my axe would inflict on your flaccid ego. ❞   ❝ i have felt this way for some time now. i care for you. ❞   ❝ i have not felt safe since then. not really. ❞   ❝ how long have you been chasing me? seventeen winters? eighteen? ❞   ❝ you are not always to be trusted. your passions overcome you. ❞   ❝ i like you. you may help me here or step on me...and by the look of you i’d welcome either. ❞   ❝ it is good to have you in this fight. ❞   ❝ you need only know my impressive scale and flawless build. ❞   ❝ i am better than any man here. ❞   ❝ i can tell by looking at you, you are not a great warrior. (you know it too, there is no reason to deny this.) ❞   ❝ i am looking for honor, and have become lost as a result. ❞   ❝ many apologies. you are no child, simply a frail and fully-grown fool. ❞   ❝ i was stupid, selfish, reckless, blind, boneheaded, and i smell like blood and shit. ❞ ❝ anything to say for the mess you led us to? ❞   ❝ how was your...first kill? ❞   ❝ you squirm like that and my axe will miss your neck! unpleasant for both of us. ❞   ❝ i know you would defy me to the death, fighting for a glorious end.     that i will not allow. ❞   ❝ most men choose to be loud or stupid. impressive, that you managed both. ❞   ❝ you are a great warrior. conquerer of this land and that of your birth. ❞   ❝ you’re chasing shadows like a madman howling at the moon! ❞   ❝ quite a hit you took. how many were lost? ❞   ❝ well fought! even if your wits were somewhat rattled. ❞   ❝ we suffered no losses in this fight, and the men who humiliated us are dead. what is there to say? ❞   ❝ i would like to be close to you. ❞   ❝ if you are a warrior with honor running like sunlight in your veins, then you may help me fulfill my destiny. ❞ ❝ you are a long way from any warm hearth, warrior. Is this where you call home? ❞ ❝ am i to go the rest of my days without love or attention? i think not. ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ the others, they are like clubs. blunt and ungainly, you are nimble, like a knife. ❞   ❝ people with eyes that gleam like yours are always up to something more. ❞   ❝ only a fool stays awake all night worrying. you are tired when you get up, and the problem is still not solved. ❞   ❝ i liked you from the first. i saw something in you that captivated me. (as if a forgotten memory of an old friendship had suddenly resurfaced.) ❞   ❝ you've done nothing but give me your blind word! ❞   ❝ did you bring me any treasure? ❞ ❝ the woodsmoke from your firepit does sting the eyes. but the warmth is welcome. ❞ ❝ it is not something i can speak on. or wish to. ❞ ❝ i'm with you. only say the word. ❞ ❝ until we cut off this serpent's head, it will poison us, day by day, drop by drop. ❞ ❝ get some rest and return here at first light. ❞ ❝ i missed having you at my side. how i wished i could have taken you along on my travels. ❞ ❝ i do not like this, but i will not stop you. ❞ ❝ i have waited too many years for this day. when ___ stands before us, give me the final blow. ❞ ❝ why do you carry such a useless burden? let it go. ❞ ❝ i have waited years for this, but i will not risk losing it through rashness. ❞ ❝ i cannot fathom your game. you are either a young fool...or deceptively wise. ❞ ❝ your confidence blinds you to so much in plain sight. ❞   ❝ it’s good to be here, with you and your people. (i feel my life has found a new road.) ❞   ❝ there has always been war, even among the gods. ❞       ❝ my honor has been stained. until it's wiped clean, i want nothing else. ❞ ❝ i lack the patience for pole fishing. i would have better luck with my bow. ❞   ❝ if we tell all our stories, we’ll be here for a week. ❞ ❝ can you teach me the art of archery? ❞   ❝ bury the past. build the future. ❞       ❝ i missed you. your clear head and your courage. (we have not had enough of both in recent months.)   ❞   ❝ i have a good feeling this war is near its end. ❞ ❝ explain in plain words why you have willfully disobeyed my commands. (do you mock me?) ❞   ❝ the gods favor you. they always have. ❞   ❝ my love for you rises tall and strong, like the tree of life. ❞   ❝ the prize is some of my time. (a walk in nature, maybe more if that is where our conversation takes us.) ❞ ❝ together, we are unstoppable. ❞ ❝ it is natural to fear change. to resist it. (but all things change, and all things end.) ❞ ❝ you said nothing of this to me, not a word. ❞ ❝ so long as men and women fight to secure honor and freedom, their allegiance hardly matters to me. ❞ ❝ i care for you. i do not know how to say it any other way. ❞   ❝ love can burn brighter near death. ❞ ❝ i knew this would be difficult, but sometimes the weight bears down heavily. ❞ ❝ you are young and still foolish, so i will spare you your life. (but cross me again or harm anyone i cherish, and you will join your friends in hell.)   ❞ ❝ if you are as brave as you appear, you will come. ❞ ❝ this is not a natural quiet. it's as if a curse has befallen this place. ❞ ❝ there was a curse here long before i came along. ❞ ❝ we’ll forge a warrior from your softness, hammered on the anvil of war. ❞ ❝ you are different than the kind my flights of fancy attract. burdened, decorated and…delicate. ❞ ❝ i do not know what else to say. m-my memories are faint, hazy. ❞ ❝ how are you doing? you survived a serious blow. ❞   ❝ we’ll weave our sagas together, thread upon thread. ❞ ❝ i try to use my knowledge to help others. i am only a threat to those who fear the unknown. ❞   ❝ slap some moss on that gash and wrap it well. ❞   ❝ a knife to the back is a wound that never heals. ❞       ❝ with me you have wisdom! glory! power! what more do you need? ❞       ❝ if your hell is real, i’m glad you’ll get to see it. ❞   ❝ to fight beside such legends is an honor. (i've only heard tales of your conquests. now i get to live them.) ❞   ❝ i have tried to live well. it is enough that the gods know that. ❞ ❝ a cloud hangs over you. is something wrong? ❞   ❝ you have plunged my city into chaos. ❞   ❝ my sword is gore-greedy. i am ready to fight. ❞   ❝ accept your fate and die a coward, here before your people... and i will spare the rest. ❞   ❝ you would take the rescue for yourself, so the victory song is written about you? ❞   ❝ kneel, and i will spare your life. ❞   ❝ it has been some time. what brings you so far to see me? ❞

[valberryy]

i wanna ruin our friendship. — childe

im sorry for using jenny song lyrics but its been living in my head rent free 😩 diversity win? anyways

the second of the raffle requests!! this one is for @pazii !! i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope u like it!! <3 also i call childe by his real name here cause idk how to explain his uhhhhh soundcloud rapper nicknames or whatever in a modern au so. does peace sign in front of mirror

pairing: childe x gn!reader

content warnings: spoilers for childe's real name

Of all the ways Ajax expected his summer break to go, getting random texts from you was honestly a rather common occurrence—he'd have found it weirder to not hear from you, honestly, no matter the time of day.

What made this stranger than the normal "hey ugly where are u" messages he'd often get was the sheer absurdity of what you were asking: with no pretense whatsoever, he had been woken up at some ungodly time of the night to see a text from you that simply read, "can you pretend to be my boyfriend for a thing".

He simply rubbed at his eyes and went back to sleep.

The next day you barged into his apartment and made yourself at home on his couch, your feet up on the armrest as you explained yourself. "My cousin's getting married," you said, "and he and I made a bet a few years ago that I wouldn't be able to get a boyfriend by college."

Ajax raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of his coffee as he said, "And what does that have to do with me?"

"I hate losing."

He raised another eyebrow at your determined expression—and he'd deal with any and all jabs you'd make about how dumb he probably looked right now—but agreed, taking another swig of coffee as he did. He watched as you grinned, clapping your hands together in a way that made him suspect that he was definitely the first person you asked.

"Great! That's good!" You started digging through your pockets for your phone and continued to explain. He caught the date and also something about, "needing to act the part"—and he nearly dropped his mug as you dragged him forward by the collar with some starstruck look in your eyes.

"Let's go gift shopping, dearest boyfriend of mine!" you teased. "What better way to get into that mindset, you know?"

You stifled another laugh as he shoved his hand in your face and pushed you away.

And a few hours later, Ajax found himself strolling with you through one of the many malls near campus. At some point during the trip he had joked about wearing matching outfits, and it seemed you were so into the idea that he was at your mercy as you dragged him in and out of clothing stores. More than once had you shoved him back into the fitting room for coming out in what you called, "an insult to anyone with a decent sense of fashion."

"Oh? And would you prefer to dress me instead, sweetheart?"

"Just change back, Ajax!"

He laughed as you kicked at his shin to force him back inside.

By the end of the day, his and your arms alike were sore from the weight of the bags you'd been carrying around ("Hey! It's not my turn yet, take them back!"), but Ajax couldn't quite find it in himself to tease you for the dopey smile on your face as he walked you back home.

"If I'm going to be your pretend boyfriend, I need to go the whole nine yards," he had said.

You stopped walking in front of your door, peering into shopping bags and handing him the ones with his things in them. Ajax was about to bid you a simple goodnight right when you pulled him in for a hug, lingering for a few seconds longer with your hands wound tight against his waist.

"Thanks for agreeing," you said, and he could hear the beginnings of a laugh start to bubble up your throat, "even if it's kind of a dumb thing to ask."

You let him go before he could respond, making a show of blowing him a kiss as you closed the door.

Ajax' chest felt warm as he walked home that night.

"So, how thick do I need to lay it on them?"

He heard you let out a little snort from the passenger seat, hearing the rustling of your clothes as you inspected the wrapped gift in your hands for any dents. "Just don't go getting on one knee or anything," you said. "But don't worry, they'll love you...I think."

Ajax drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. "You think," he repeated.

You snorted again, and through the corner of his vision, he caught the way you were smiling at him.

The rest of the trip was silent save for the occasional snide comment and the low droning of the radio, and the wedding ceremony itself was rather quick in and of itself—the parts that felt the longest were the ones that involved talking to your family.

But you stuck by his side after the ceremony and into the reception—in true best friend fashion, he joked—and instead of leaving him to the wolves, whatever fabricated stories dates you two went on (which were mostly just joyrides where Ajax dragged you to come with) left even your skeptical cousin looking convinced.

And then you were dragged away to dance with one of your younger cousins, and Ajax was left to the wolves.

Your cousin walked up to him and nudged his shoulder, jerking his chin in your direction. You had to bend down a fair bit to "dance" properly with the cousin who had dragged you off, and they were standing on your feet to boot, but you still looked rather happy in spite of that.

"Thanks for dealing with them," your cousin said, snapping Ajax out of his daze.

"If anything, I think you should thank [Name] for dealing with me."

With a laugh, your cousin clapped him on the shoulder before going off to mingle with the rest of your family, and Ajax found his gaze drawn back to you.

Somehow, he wished that the night would go by slower.

A few hours later, you stood by his side in the parking lot, rolling the few knots out of your neck as you waved goodbye to your relatives that passed by. "Ahh, I can't wait to get out of these shoes," you said.

Ajax glanced at you as he dug through his pockets for his keys. "Don't go stinking up my car, dearest partner of mine," he replied.

You laughed as you slipped into the passenger seat.

He hadn't bothered to turn on the radio, or the GPS for that matter, and you made an odd noise from the back of your throat once you realised his little detour. You turned to him with an eyebrow raised, and he looked at you as much as he could without taking his eyes off the road.

"Don't look at me like that," he teased. "Let me do this one last thing as your pretend boyfriend."

"Where are we even going?!"

He laughed, opening the windows and sputtering as a stray leaf hit you square in the face.

"We'll see when we get there."

You seemed about to curse at him again, before you settled with a fond sigh. "Well then, pretend boyfriend, you better make it count, hm?"

He didn't say anything in reply, only watching you out of the corner of his eye and watching the way the moonlight shone on your hair.

Maybe next time, he wouldn't have to play pretend.

[sidespart]

The Fall of King Romulus Part 2

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Pairings: Mostly Platonic LAMP and all the found family feels. Could be read as pre-slash. 

Prologue     Chapter 1  

“Young Sir! Come look at this! A beautiful gift for your sweetheart, no?”

Logan bit back a curse as Roman, once again, slipped form his side and almost skipped towards the merchants stall.

They had finally left the forest earlier that morning. Barley a quarter- mile beyond the tree line the path merged with the great eastern road, already heaving with traders wagons heading to Steveange for the monthly market. Roman had gone to work immediately, finding an exhausted looking couple and charming them into exchanging a ride in the back of their cart for a selection of songs to soothe their gaggle of bored children.

Even Logan, no lover of music, could admit that Romans voices was objectively pleasing. Even the wailing baby settled down under the effects of his lullaby.

The closer they got to the city gates the more densely packed the road became, to the point where their pace might have been improved by walking. But the rest was welcome and the sun was still high in the sky by the time they had finally made it to the city square. They might even have made it to their target in good time, had Patton not insisted that they stay to help the family unload every box and crate from their cart before moving on.

Patton stood nearly seven foot tall, with shoulders to match and the patience of a Raspanzean monk. Moving him when he had decided not to move was difficult at the best of times.  Currently, with a good deed in need of doing and no less than three small children clambering all over him, it was going to be impossible.

Logan looked at Virgil for support.

Virgil was already manhandling the smallest sack of produce down from the cart, under close supervision of a surly looking nine year old.

Logan looked back at Patton. Patton had somehow acquired a fourth child, and was swinging the small boy gently back and forth with one giant arm.

Logan sighed.  

Eventually they agreed that Patton and Virgil would stay to help the family, and then set about finding the four of them somewhere to sleep. Logan and Roman would head down the main street, complete their mission and return with, hopefully, enough coin to let them settle here for at least a weeks rest.

Which Logan would have no problem with. Except that the monthly market seemed far larger than when Logan had visited the city as a young apprentice. The city square was packed with stalls filled with meat, produce, spices and enough live animals to generate a stink so strong even Patton and his twice broken nose winced. The main road meanwhile was filled with more temporary looking stalls offering books, jewellery and potions of every colour alongside the usual clothing and home wear. These continued the whole length of the road from the square to the city temple and even spilled over into the side streets and thoroughfares of the city proper.

All of which apparently meant Roman couldn’t walk for more than two minutes without stopping to gawk at whatever gaudy display was on offer or chat with the seller.

“Roman!” he caught up with the wayward bard at a jewellers stall, where a heavy set man with salt and pepper hair was holding up an extremely impractical looking necklace for him to inspect

“Oh there you are specs” Roman grinned at him, “have you seen Master Galvenets wares? Look how shiny!”

“Is this your sweetheart?” The jeweller – presumably Master Galvenet – grinned at Logan with far too many teeth and reached below the makeshift counter top, “Then may I suggest this one instead – to match his  eyes?”

The necklace he presented was even bigger than the last. With blue glass masquerading as the sapphires surrounded by enough ostentatious filigree to decorate a dukes bed chamber. Logan stared,  momentarily struck dumb by his own disdain.

Roman nudged him, waggling his eyebrows and giving him a lecherous grin “What do you think sweetie? It does match your eyes.”

Logan blanched. Turning quickly to the seller her snapped out “We are NOT together. And also - we’re, extremely poor. And not interested.”

He grabbed Roman’s wrist and proceeded to drag the giggling bard with him back towards the main street. “Can you try to focus?” Logan glared at him, “remember this package is time sensitive.” Superstitiously, Logan patted his pocket, feeling the shape of the vial they had been entrusted to transport to Steveange still safely stored inside.

Roman failed to look chastened. “Logan, it’s a herb. And we we’re asked to deliver it within a week – it’s only been five days! Your forest short cut worked, alright, the worlds not going to end if we stop to appreciate some fine wares on our way.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You consider Master Galvenet’s works, ‘fine wares’?”

Now Roman had the grace to look a little sheepish “They had a charm of their own.”

Logan hmphed. “They were very clearly fake.”

“Oh?” Roman linked their arms together, tugging him back into the steady stream of south bound shoppers, “How could you tell?”

Logan told him.

The ensuring lecture took them the rest of the way down main street, and into the rabbit warren of alleyways that branched out behind the city’s temple.

Even here, there were traders. Many had their wares spread out on blankets on the ground instead of stalls, but they seemed less inclined to call over whilst the two of them walked together deep in discussion and so, mercifully, there was less opportunities for Roman to get distracted.

“A festival?” Roman suggested. Logan shrugged, it was possible, something was certainly occurring to draw such an enormous throng.

Eventually, Logan had to admit that his boyhood memories were not enough to navigate every twist and turn of the city streets and Roman stepped away from him to ask a couple for directions. Logan took the chance to study him, but whatever fit of irrationality had led to him wandering back through half the forest the previous night seemed to have past. Even the scratches on his hands and arms had healed almost completely overnight, helped along by a generous slathering of healing salve from Virgil.

(Logan had, at the time, pointed out that the healer was using up rather a lot of their  dwindling supply for an extremely minor injury. Virgil had hissed at him)

Roman was often contradictory. He would spend a day whining about his need for beauty sleep but then stay up till the early hours to fulfil every song request from whatever crowd they managed to gather. He fussed with his makeup and performance clothing as much as a lady at court, but kept his hair cropped unfashionably short and made no effort to seek out high class patrons who could have kept him in silks and finery. He was talented enough with a lute to spend the social season entertaining upper class lords, and talented enough with a sword to spend the rest of his time as a body guard or becomes some towns local hero. Instead he travelled with them.

“You know, I’m fairly sure there were some gentlemen painting miniatures on the main road, if you want to keep staring at me that is.”

Logan flushed, caught. “Don’t be insufferable.”

“You don’t pay me enough for that” Roman grinned cheekily.

This was an old joke. Virgil had originally found Roman, and hired him as a body guard and escort for a three day trip through a bandit ridden mountain pass. Three weeks and many diversions later, they had emerged on the other side of the mountain. Roman had become as much a part of the group as any of the others and had stayed to travel with them as a friend rather than a hire.

Logan was glad of it. Most of the time.

“Did you get the directions?”

“I did, I had to ask three people before I found someone who recognised the address – the city’s full of tourists!”

 *

 The woman who opened the door looked like the word crone ha been invented especially for her. Her grey hair stuck out from a shoddily tied scarf and her face looked like at any moment it might collapse under the weight of her own frown. She scowled at the pair of them, looking like she already learned everything there was to know about them from one glance and found it all spectacularly unimpressive.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

Logan resisted the urge to smooth down his waistcoat like he was presenting to a lecturer and stepped forward.

“Good afternoon. We have been sent by Madam Valarie to –“

This, if anything, seemed to make the scowl deepen.

“My sister? What does that witch want?”

“To deliver you …this”

With a flourish Logan produced the vial and held it aloft. The thin shaft of light spilling from the doorway made the red herb glow a burning orange in the dim of the alley.

“And you think I’m dramatic.”

“Shush.”

Needlessly dramatic or not, he had the woman’s attention. She reached towards the vial with trembling hands but Logan drew back before she could make contact.

“Your sister paid us half, with the promise of the second half on delivery.” Reaching into a different pocket  he produced an envelope and held it out. “She told us to give you this – it should validate our story.”

The woman muttered something decidedly uncomplimentary under her breath but accepted the envelope. Without speaking further she turned and retreated into the hovel, leaving the door open behind her

The two men exchanged a glance, and then Roman deftly stepped around Logan to walk in first, one hand on his sword.

He needn’t have bothered, the short hallway opened up to small kitchen, where every conceivable surface was covered with books, scrolls and bric-a-brac. Three of the four walks were taken up with shelving where kitchen ingredients and appliances sat shoulder to shoulder with  ornaments, candles and what looked like half a taxidermy ostrich.  

If the old woman had hired muscle ready to take to leap out and take the herb by force, they would have had a hard time finding space to stand.

“My sister claims this was picked under the glow of a full moon.”

Logan nodded, “that is what we were given to understand.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, “For this to be worth the price it needs to be used within ten days of the moon’s glow, my sisters village is two weeks ride away on the eastern road.”

“We came through the forest.” Logan explained, “Also, I sealed the herb in a pre-sterilised sample jar – the lack of air exposure should help it retain its freshness far beyond its normal time frame!”

The was a silence. The woman was now looking at Logan not with suspicion, but with the exasperation of a teacher whose student has just said something rather stupid.

Logan crossed his arms.

“If you look at the specimen carefully you will notice no discoloration or other signs of degradation – this method can be used to prolong the lifespan of most vegetation and-“

She interrupted him by laughing, an awful crows call of a noise, and held up a hand for silence.

“You are obviously quite uneducated.” she told him cheerfully “And you are bothering Mittens.”

“I beg your pardon I- wait what?”

“YOWCH!”

Logan spun round, as much as he could in the cramped space, only to find Roman desperately trying to relinquish a scrambling ball of fur back onto one of the high shelves. The cat had already dug its claws deep enough into the bards wrist to draw blood, and was currently clinging on for dear life as Roman waved his hand around like Patton trying to kill a spider.

“My apologies Master Mittens” Roman told the cat a few moments later, after Logan and the crone had  finally convinced it to release him “I thought you were a hat.”

“Why must you touch things.” Logan hissed and was surprised by a much gentler laugh from their hostess.

“Aw now,  Mittens is not the most dangerous thing you could have touched in my kitchen. Here. Drink.”

Logan blinked as she shoved hot cup into his hands. Its contents was extremely dark and disturbingly viscous. A few drops glopped over the side, singeing his finger. He held it as far from his body as he possibly could.

“And for you?” She held up a second cup towards Roman who smiled politely but shook his head ‘no’

“No thank you, Madam.”

“We’re both fine.” Logan said firmly, putting the cup down on one of the first patches of exposed surface he could find. “If you wouldn’t mind completing our transaction we will take our leave of this…place.”

She looked at him for one long moment and then turned back to Roman.

“Your friend says you passed through the Serpents Forrest”

Logan frowned - “That’s not what the locals called it.”

“Well that’s who lives there.” The crone snapped without turning around, “One of the darker fae. I’m not surprised he” – she jerked her chin back towards Logan – “ got through alright, since the gods look after fools.”

“Excuse me!”

“But how did you manage?”

Roman juts shrugged, eyes sparkling with mirth at Logan’s outraged expression. “We saw no one Madam, but if we had done - I carry iron.”

That rusted hunk of junk Logan thought, but the crone was nodding approvingly

“A clever boy” she patted Roman cheek, “I thought so when I heard your accent – you’re from beyond the mountains.”

Logan frowned. He was not gifted when it came to interpreting expressions, but he thought Romans smile had suddenly become very fixed.

“So are you.” Roman replied softly.

There was a moments quiet whilst the two looked at each other and Logan tried not to roll his eyes out of his own head. All they needed to do was a simple swap of coin for produce and instead Roman had manged to find the only other grown adult in Steveange who still believed in fairies.

Whatever northerner to northerner communication was happening seemed to pass, and the crone reached past Roman to pull a small burlap sack from the shelf. Mittens took the opportunity to skitter across her arm and settle himself on her shoulder.

“Here you are then.” She tipped the sack out on top of an open tome, producing three cloves of garlic and a hefty pile of coins Logan couldn’t help but stare. That was more money than Logan had seen in one place since he had started traveling.

The crone picked out three gold pieces and a fistful of silver and handed them to Logan. He counted quickly and handed her the vial. Transaction complete, Logan headed immediately to the door, but turned back when he realised Roman wasn’t with him

He was still trapped between the crone and the shelving. “Will you come and see me before you leave the city?” she asked “It would be nice to share my tea with someone who would appreciate it.”

Logan thought to the gelatinous mess in the tea cup and gagged but Roman just smiled

“If time allows my lady.” He brought her withered hand to his lips and deposited a courtly kiss before sidestepping her and heading after Logan.

The city alley smelt almost like fresh air after the over mixture of incense, garlic and cat that her permeated the crones kitchen, and Logan breathed it in gratefully before setting off. Roman falling into sept beside him.

Logan glanced at him, uncertain.

He knew Roman was from the Northern Kingdom. He guessed from his speech patterns that he either grew up upper class or was truly committed to his larger than life bard persona. He had mentioned a brother once, off hand, and during an argument compared Logan to a tutor he’d disliked who had made him study maps until he could recount every river on the continent by heart.

That was all he knew.

Logan was curious by nature, a trait which tended to get him in trouble. He would have liked to pepper Roman with a hundred questions about life beyond the mountains, but Patton had told him once he should only ask a question about a sensitive subject if he was prepared to answer one himself.

None of them like to talk about where they came from, but that was fine. They were going forward together.

It was obvious though, that meeting his countryman had shaken Roman. He walked silently, even when they turned into a wider street and found the market still in full swing, shoppers crowding around each stall, he made no comment, only stepped closer to Logan.

If he was Patton, he might have known what to say to sooth whatever emotion was clouding Romans features. If he was Virgil, he might have made a joke or pointed out an interesting stall  to distract him

As it was..

“So do all Northerners believe in fairy stories or is it just you two?”

“What?”

“The dark fae of the forest? She can’t have been serious.”

Roman straighten up, fixing him with a mock glare “Logan! You’re honestly going to keep pretending you don’t believe in magic? You travel with an elf!”

“Half-elf. And there’s nothing mystical about him.”

“He makes potions Logan!”

“He mixes herbs into useful medicines, it’s no different than any human herbalist.”

“He chants when he does it. And his eyes do that thing.” Roman wiggled his fingers in front of his face, apparently to illustrate ‘that thing’.

“Which I’m sure helps him know how long each concoction needs to stew before adding the next ingredient. You cannot decided a race is magical just because they’ve failed to invent clocks.”

“Urgh!” Roman threw up his hands, “Sometimes you sound like you’re from Arkaze’yed.”

Arkaze’yd was on the western coast. The most industrially advanced of the great cities, they had recently converted the city temple into an extension of the university.

Logan preened. “Thank you for the compliment.”

Roman pulled a face. “You are such a - ooh! Jam tarts!”

He darted away again, but this time Logan couldn’t fault him. A boy was hastily unpacking a crate of what looked like fresh jam tarts onto his masters stall and the scent was delicious

They had to wait for three families ahead of them before they could finally have their turn. Roman picked out four of the tarts and chatted happily with the seller whilst Logan carefully counted out the money.

“I had herd the monthly market of Steveange was something to behold but this! Are you going to go all night?”

“Most likely.” The trader told them happily, “The towns packed for the coronation.”

“Coronation?”

“Princess Stephanie is to become queen,” the man gushed, one hand over his heart in what Logan considered to be an alarming display of emotional royalism. “The guests have been arriving all week.”

Logan nodded absently. That explained the hubbub. The rich went traveling and the poor went to see them. A coronation was a good enough excuse for a festival. If you liked that sort of thing.

“They say,” the trader whispered leaning forward, apparently unbothered by Logan’s total lack of interest in royal gossip, “That even the mad Prince is coming - Remus of Notaleveale!”

“Is that so.” said Logan, monotonously “Here’s your coin.” He turned to Roman to claim his pastry and – stared.

All the colour had drained from Romans face. He gaze was fixed on the trader, his eyes so wide he looked quite wild.

“Roman?” Logan asked, as gently as he could. He realised that Romans hands were shaking the second before the bag of pastries fell from his grip.

“Roman- ROMAN hey-“

Other customers were starting to push between them, Logan bent down quickly to rescue the bag form the floor and reached out to grab his friends hand.

But when he looked up, Roman had gone.

Part three

[glassesandswords]

Of Wings And Wheelchairs

Pairing: Levi Ackerman & Onyankopon, Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe (mentioned)

Summary:  Levi and Onyankopon sit in a coffee shop, waiting for Gabi and Falco to return from their small detour during their vacation together. Levi reminisces about the old Survey Corps veterans and their times together as Onyankopon listens. Soon, the conversation makes its way to a person the two knew very well- Hange.

Ao3 Link

“Let’s wait here.”

Levi and Onyankopon stopped at a coffee shop. With so many people bustling about, it was hard to find a place to relax for a while, especially with all the walking they had done. Well, at least all the walking that Onyankopon, Gabi and Falco had done- as Levi had been pushed around on a wheelchair by Falco the whole time. But the kids had spotted an ice cream vendor and left together to buy something to eat, and the older men decided to get a quick drink before continuing on with their journey.

The coffee shop had outdoor seating shaded by giant blue umbrellas that flared briskly over the round tables. A florist sold bouquets nearby. The scent of roses and lavenders wafted through the air, mingling with that of roast coffee.

“Are you sure letting Gabi and Falco go off on their own in a foreign land a good idea?” Levi asked as Onyankopon looked around for an empty table.

“They are fifteen now. They will be alright. Us, old men, shouldn’t be interfering with a pair of love-birds, so let them enjoy this vacation on their own.”

“You might be right about that.”

Onyankopon decided on an empty table on the opposite end of the florist and parked Levi next to him as he pulled a chair for himself. “Fifteen, huh?” Levi muttered, adjusting his wheelchair close to the table. “If they were in Paradis, they would have graduated from the cadet corps. But these two- they have had their fill of the battlefield way before that, being Marley’s warrior candidates and all.”

“Yes. That’s why they deserve to live like the carefree and free-spirited children they are right now.”

“Not that any child needs a reason to live like that. They all are equally deserving of happiness.”

“Of course,” Onyankopon called the waiter over to them. “A black tea and a black coffee, please.”

Levi noted how Onyankopon kept his favorite drink in mind and ordered it for him by default. Over the past three years, the two men had bonded over their shared losses and he had been a constant companion for Levi after the war. Onyankopon had helped him start a new life and set up his own tea shop after he retired in Marley, taking care of all the paperwork and technical details required.

“I heard you spent your childhood in the underground district within Wall Sina,” Onyankopon said as he watched the waiter leave with their order. “I wasn’t allowed there due to the restrictions on the volunteers, but I heard it was a rough place to live in.”

Levi raised an eyebrow. That piece of information was hardly common knowledge. 

“I think I might have an idea of who babbled to you about that,” the face of a certain four-eyed abnormal popped up on Levi’s mind. “Yes. I was raised as a thug in order to survive that hellhole.”

“Did you have anyone close to you at that time? Your parents? Any siblings?”

Usually, Levi would have found it annoying if people dug into his past. But with Onyankopon, he did not really mind. “I was an only child,” he replied, leaning back on his wheelchair, “My mother died when I was young and the closest thing I had to a father was an uncle who abandoned me as soon as he realized that I could take care of myself.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, it’s an old story,” he waved his pity off, “I did have two close friends there. Farlan and Isabel. They were as good as a brother and sister to me.” A fond remembrance flitted over his face, as if he could see them in his mind’s eye as he spoke. “The three of us thought life above the ground, in a land touched by the sun would be better. Turns out it is all the same.”

It wasn’t hard for Onyankopon to make out that Farlan and Isabel were probably no more from how Levi’s voice dipped. He changed the topic to something lighter.

“But you finally retired from all your duties and responsibilities. How does it feel to go on vacations to foreign countries?”

“I’m surprised you are dragging me along. Not like I could be of any service anyway, after being permanently bound to this wheelchair,” Levi tapped on the metal armrest. 

“You are too humble, Levi,” Onyankopon shook his head, “I’ve seen you offering guidance to Armin and the others whenever they need it.”

“I help them as much as I can, but in the end, it is nothing more than an old man’s advice.” Levi sighed, remembering a certain someone’s soliloquy in a forest. “Times have changed and perspectives are different. After the rumbling ended, Armin offered me retirement and I took it. But even if I were in top shape, I honestly don’t think I would want to do anything with the Alliance anymore.”

Onyankopon watched Levi as he gazed at the busy road. The man looked broken, like he had lost way too much in life. He reminded him of some of the volunteers who had seen their families killed and hometowns destroyed in front of their own eyes. For previously being known as ‘Humanity’s strongest soldier’, Onyankopon had not seen Levi in action a lot. But the way he held himself together during that day- exactly three years ago, after Odiha- was a testament to his immense internal strength. The man in front of him was a fighter, but the fight had taken its toll on him.

The waiter arrived with steaming drinks and served it on the table.

“How do you drink that bitter bean-juice?” Levi asked as Onyankopon took a careful sip, trying not to burn his tongue in the scalding liquid.

“Six years and you still haven’t warmed up to coffee, have you?”

“I prefer tea, usually that of my own shop.” He sipped his tea, holding it by the rim with his left hand. “But I have to admit, the aroma of coffee is quite enticing.” His voice went back to its hazy tone. “Mike would have liked it. That guy had a sharp nose for things like these.”

Though Onyankopon did not know the details, he knew Mike was probably one of Levi’s previous comrades.

Levi had a habit of talking about his fallen comrades now and then. He did not seem to care if the other person knew them personally or not. Onyankopon assumed that it was to remember and acknowledge their existence and stories, being the last living veteran from his original group.

He heard about the battle of Shiganshina that resulted in the complete decimation of the earlier Survey Corps and wondered if Mike was one of the people who died there. Or maybe he had been one of the many unfortunate victims who were killed by the hands of the pure titans long before. Onyankopon felt a small stab of guilt for following Zeke, who had caused nothing but pain for Levi and the rest of the Survey Corps, but he had his own circumstances. Choosing sides had blinded them from appealing to their common humanity, until Yelena had revealed to him the plan to offer assistance to Paradis before their first scouting expedition six years ago. He had almost convinced himself that the Paradis military would crush them with their titan power before they could put forth that proposal, but then, a certain Survey Corps Commander gave them the warmest welcome they could have received in the island of ‘devils’.

“Brings back memories,” he hummed over his coffee, “Remember, the first time we chatted was over a cup of tea in that tent?”

“Ah yes,” Levi nodded grimly, “Another one of that person’s stupidly optimistic ideas. It was a surprise that you volunteers actually agreed to it.”

There was a silence as Onyankopon knew exactly who he was referring to.

Levi sipped his tea. “Honestly, they’d come up with the most reckless ideas, that Four-eyes.”

Onyankopon gave a small, sad smile. It seemed safe to talk about them. “I have to admit,” he said slowly, “I was shocked when they pointed the barrel of that gun over their one good eye, even if it was unloaded.”

“You don’t know half the trouble Hange caused back in the Survey Corps,” Levi shook his head disapprovingly. “Always blabbing about their latest hypotheses. Putting my entire squad in danger for another titan capture mission. They’d have had their head bitten off by a titan long ago if it wasn’t for their trusty assistant, Moblit. Hell, they went days without taking a damned bath just because something more interesting caught their attention. Sometimes, when I couldn’t bear the stink, I had to knock them out and clean them myself.”

Onyankopon chuckled at his ramble. He had observed Levi and Hange’s inseparable relationship from his time at Paradis. Maybe it was because they were the last ones to survive from their generation, or maybe it extended a little deeper than that. Onyankopon was not completely sure. He gazed at the long scar across Levi’s face, crossing through his one blind eye. If Hange were there, the two of them would have made quite the one-eyed pair.

But Hange wasn’t there as they had sacrificed themself so that he and Levi could sit in peace under a blue umbrella, drinking hot beverages on a sunny day without worrying about anything else.

Levi was still rambling on, “...all those stupid naming ceremonies for the captured titans. At least three Garrison guards used to throw up after each of their experiments. The tantrums they’d throw in Erwin’s office whenever he denied their requests. That Four-eyes once talked to me about titans and their planned experiments for two days straight after we first found out about Eren’s abilities. Can you believe it? Two days!”

There was a bitter aftertaste in Levi’s mouth and he knew it had nothing to do with the tea. A memory of Hange floated in his mind, of them carefully dabbing medicated cotton over Eren’s face after he had kicked the hell out of him in the courtroom all those years ago. He remembered Hange chiding him for having gone too far and declaring that they’d never kill Eren.

His stomach twisted at the irony of how everything played out in the end.

Onyankopon’s voice stirred him out of his thoughts. “It must have been hard for them to pursue their scientific research after they became the commander.”

“It did take a huge toll on them,” Levi agreed, “Erwin’s shoes would have been hard for anyone to fill. But he himself chose them as his successor and they did their job well, even if all odds were against them.” He gave a short sigh through his nose. “But over the years, they changed too much.”

Levi had noticed all the times when Hange had faked a smile to cover up their exhaustion. They tried to maintain their cheerful façade through all the uncertainty to keep their subordinates from becoming concerned about their mental well-being, but from his time with the past two commanders, Levi knew the bone-crushing pressure they were under.

He had spotted the missing tea from his shelf during all those late nights when Hange had fallen asleep on their desk after pulling multiple all-nighters. Although they weren’t new to burning the midnight oil, the commander’s work was grueling. Adding to that, the knowledge and responsibility of dealing with an entire world full of potential enemies weighed them down incredibly. Only he knew how tired and defeated Erwin had looked during his last moments with him. In a way, the role demanded much more from Hange than it did from Erwin himself.

“You mean they were more excitable before?” Onyankopon asked, “I really did not think they could look more starry-eyed than while they were being introduced to all the new technology from Marley.” He chuckled, “The way they whooped after the success of the new improved 3DMG test session was unforgettable.”

Levi set down his empty cup. “Hange was always a vocal advocate for technological advancement. Their inventions helped to get rid of all the pure titans in the island without much loss of human life. When they were given the hope that the rest of the world was not as cruel as we thought it was- but a place where they could learn and discover- that was when I saw them truly happy for the last time. They hoped to make peace when we left off for our first Marley visit. But we both know how that ended.”

Ah, yes that Marley trip, Onyankopon thought as a tense silence settled between them, The time when everything spiraled out of control. To ease the heavy pauses, he decided to bring up some good memories from back then.

“Remember the time when Hange bought that lollipop from that clown just so that he’d stop stalking you? And the time when they tried to feed carrots to a car?”

Thankfully, it seemed to work as Levi snorted. “Shitty-Glasses was supposed to be the smartest of us all,” he said, “Yet, that was still better than the way they squealed after the camera flash the first time we took a picture in Azumabito's place. Now that was just plain embarrassing.”

Onyankopon smiled. When Levi's squad was out drinking, he had insisted Levi and Hange to take a photograph with himself and the Azumabitos as a keepsake memory of their first official trip outside Paradis. Hopes were ripe that night, with the peace conference scheduled for the next day. To keep their optimism up, they had a small dance session in which Hange had dragged Levi with them and had successfully managed two rounds around the ballroom before Levi remarked that it was ridiculous and sulked in a corner for the rest of the night with a wine glass on hand. After which Hange teased him and invited Onyankopon to give them company instead.

When the camera was ready, they were all suited up- with hats placed on their heads despite the fact that it was evening- just for the sake of the photograph session. Onyankopon knew that the Paradisians had never taken a picture before, so his eyes were on Levi and Hange instead of the camera.

Their reactions did not disappoint.

Hange squealed as the flash lit up the room and Levi flinched, grimacing at its sudden brightness. The photograph was quite comical when it was developed: Hange with their mouth slightly open, Levi with his eyes half closed and Onyankopon’s lips in an amused half-smile as he gazed at them.

“To be honest, you looked quite shaken at the flash yourself,” he pointed out to Levi.

“Yes, but I did not wake up everyone in a fifty mile radius within the building.”

“It didn’t seem to wake the kids up, though.”

“What do you expect? Not even Hange can wake up a bunch of hungover brats who had drank all night and ended up passed out on each other.”

“The three of us had to carry them back, didn’t we?”

“Only for Sasha to puke all over the new suit I wore for the photoshoot.”

Onyankopon laughed at that memory. The waiter came over with the bill and he paid it before Levi could reach for his own wallet.

“I told you before,” he said to Levi as he handed over the money, “This vacation is entirely on me.”

“Thanks,” Levi kept his wallet back inside his pocket, knowing that arguing about it would not change Onyankopon’s mind.

They sat in silence for a while, gazing at the people walking around, exploring the shops. Levi got a few quick stares now and then because of his heavily scarred face, but he did not care. He was used to people staring at him; the annoying looks of envy and awe when he was considered as humanity’s strongest soldier, glares of anger from the military higher-ups after he had brought back Armin instead of Erwin during the battle of Shiganshina, and gazes of pity after he had been severely injured due to the thunder spear, thanks to that shitty monkey.

“I wonder what happened to that photograph,” he murmured, his mind wandering back to that day in Marley.

“It was left in Paradis,” Onyankopon replied, “The militants probably disposed of it along with the rest of our belongings after we were declared traitors. It’s been three years after all.”

Levi’s heart sank. That was the last piece of Hange he had left, apart from the scars they had stitched across his face. If everything was disposed of, that would mean that the badges he had collected from the uniforms of his former comrades, his letters, Hange’s research notes, Moblit’s sketches from the night they visited a bar after work, all of their personal belongings- everything had been burnt or destroyed. Apart from Erwin’s grave, there was nothing left for him back in Paradis- the place the Survey Corps dedicated their lives and hearts for all those years.

He masked his bitterness, “It was just a piece of paper anyway.”

Onyankopon did not say anything. The cost of freedom had been incredibly heavy for both of them.

“It’s been three years, huh?”

“Yeah.”

Levi remembered that moment when the spirits of his comrades appeared in front of him as he sat battered and broken. The old Survey Corps, with whom he had spent so many years fighting, resting, experimenting and pushing through every loss, every death and every failure together. He had finally finished their job. He had taken all of their dedicated hearts with him and won for them.

His final salute both crushed his soul and set him free.

A part of him wanted to depart with them. His duty was done, Zeke was killed, the rumbling was stopped and the world was finally free of titans. What use would he be to anyone anymore?

But he knew that the others would want him to live the life that they couldn’t. To explore the world and all it had to offer. To make the dream of world-peace come true.

So, he decided that he would go on, and when his time finally comes, he would stand tall among his noble comrades and tell them stories of the world they never got to see.

Levi hesitated for a moment before turning to Onyankopon.

“Do you think they’re still watching over us?”

Onyankopon didn’t miss a beat.

“I’m sure they are.”

Gabi and Falco reappeared from the crowd, with half-eaten ice cream cones in their hands. The brats had grown so much since the first time he had seen them, all beaten up and bruised on that zeppelin three years ago. Now they looked happy and content, their eyes shining with hope, optimism and love.

Hange’s words from all those years ago played in his mind.

I want everyone to feel safe again soon. I want this to be a world where people can live without fighting each other.

There was still a long way to go for that, but with the threat of the titans gone, they only had humans to negotiate with. Though that probably did not make it any easier, peace was still an option. He’d leave that to Armin and Historia.

Erwin and Hange would have loved it here. All the new places and technology, exotic food, new discoveries; it would have blown their minds. Sometimes, he wondered what would have happened if that bastard Floch did not show up to shoot holes in that fuel tank. Hange would have been alive, they would have boarded the plane together, they could have seen the flying titan and the previous titan shifters. It might have probably returned them to their normal, curious self again.

They could have survived together.

What would Hange have done now that the titans, their life’s work, were gone forever? The two of them had never really discussed such situations, for they never imagined such a day would actually come to be. For them, a world without the threat of titans was a distant fantasy. But if Hange were alive, they’d have probably headed the peace talks. They were never the one to stay out of the action anyway.

“Sorry, we were a little late,” Falco said as he approached them, “Shall we go?”

“Sure, no problem.”

Falco popped the rest of the ice cream in his mouth before silently pulling the wheelchair by its handle without being prompted to. He was a sweet kid. Erwin, Hange and the rest of his old squad- Petra, Oulo, Eld, Gunther- would have liked him.

Levi picked up a newspaper from a vendor, to see if there were any mentions of the peace committee who had set sail for Paradis earlier that day. As they made their way through the street, he winced as the wheel stumbled over a small pothole.

“I’m so sorry,” Falco exclaimed.

“No, that’s fine,” he rubbed his back. “Times like these are when I really miss Four-eyes.”

Onyankopon laughed, “They’d have come up with a crazy convenient wheelchair, custom-made for you.”

“Knowing them, they would have probably attached an engine and the 3DMG trigger-anchor system complete with a safety belt into the wheelchair,” he shook his head. “Then again, I think they might have also pushed me down a slope as a test run, so maybe I’m safer this way.”

A distant hum of an engine made all of them look above.

A plane, similar to the one they had taken off from in Odiha, flew past the sky, its shadow falling on them as it streaked by.

For the kids, it was just another ordinary plane they stared fascinated at. But for him, something about it felt reassuring.

It was almost as if…

Levi glanced at Onyankopon, who gave him a knowing look.

So, they were watching us after all.

[yamithediaperdork]

My little brothers revenge, Part 2

Alex woke up Sunday morning and rubbed his eyes, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes and hearing the heavy snoring of his asshole big brother.

'Man, can't believe I conked out so bad!' He thought, now rubbing his arm across his chin and mouth to take care of any left over drool. 'I guess I must of been more tired then I thought..Ugh.. and Justin's been stinking up the room again in his sleep.'

Alex put his fingers to his nose, glaring over at his brother who was a well know toxic hazard in his sleep and as such normally got his own tent when the family went out camping.

Tossing his blanket back Alex froze as the smell not only got worse in the room, but it became clear WHAT the source of the stink was as he looked down and the shot swelled diaper around his waist.

'No way..no.freaking.way!' Alex thought as he blushed beet red.

he quickly glanced over at Justin who was thankfully still asleep and then slowly got up onto his hand sand knees and crawled backwards to get out of his bed, trying not to squish the mess around any worse and fighting back whimpers that might of woken Justin up.

There was NO way if Justin saw him in a shitty diaper that he'd ever let Alex live it down, and he could easily picture Justin 'accidentally' bringing it up around his friends or even at school.

getting his feet on the floor Alex found himself forced to do a cowboy walk of sorts from the bulk of his filled diaper and as quietly as he could he made his way to the door and out into the hall, praying to every deity he could think of that he was the first one awake since it was only 8:34 am and mom and dad liked to sleep in on Sundays.

Fate was not on his side however as he made his way towards the bathroom and saw that the door was closed. before he could even think of turning around and waddling back to his room the door opened and out stepped mom.

She appeared to of smelled Alex before spotting him from the way her nose wrinkled, then she looked eyes on him and her mouth twitched as if she was fighting the urge to smirk.

"Did somebody have a stinky accident?" She asked, sounding amused but coming over.

"I..I didn't mean to.." Alex whimpered and looked down, all sorts of shame flooding though his body and he was fighting back tears.

Instantly she went from amused to trying to comfort him, even if she winced as she knelt down in front of him and cupping his chin.

"Alex it's ok, accidents happen. this this goes to prove that you're not feeling so well. Maybe I'll let you stay home while I go and get you some more diapers later." She said in a soothing voice.

"I..Yeah Ok mommy." Alex said, feeling very much like a big baby as she then picked him up, hands under his armpits and carried him to the bathroom.

"I think maybe it's for the best you're gonna be in diapers all day today too. you wouldn't wanna have a poopie accident in your Captain America briefs right?" She asked.

This was NOT helping Alex feel better but he just nodded his head, kicking his legs a little.

"Uh..Uh..Mommy? I-I can clean myself up." he said as she carried him into the bathroom and stood him in the tub.

"I'm sure you could, but it'll go faster with my help and I don't think you want Justin seeing you like this." She said with a warm smile.

"I-I guess you got a point." Alex whimpered.

Oh yeah, he was gonna get revenge on his brother and prove who was the big baby in the house alright. right after his mom changed his dirty diaper.

'God, what have I done to piss you off so much?' he silently asked as his mom started to open his diaper.

One humiliating clean up and shower later and Alex was in a clean diaper and downstairs at the kitchen table, having some toast and tea. Normally Sunday's were a sausage and bacon filled feast if you waited long enough for Mom to get up but she had been wary about putting too much into Alex's system and asked him to go simple. Alex wasn't happy about it, but since Mom had put the plastic bag with his stinky diaper in the trunk of the car and promised to get rid of it away from the house he decided to humor her.

He was in just one of his Spider-man diapers and a loose Iron man t-shirt and kicking his legs softly at the table when Justin came down stair's with a grossed out look on his face, spotting Alex before he saw mom.

"Geez Alexandra, did you crap yourself or something? Our room friggen reeks!" He complained and then fully walked into the Kitchen and saw their mother standing there, NOT looking happy.

"Excuse me, but I thought your father and I talked about you calling Alex that name." She said in a less then amused tone.

"Er..well..See, Alex likes the nick name! Yeahhh, He said it just didn't feel right if I wasn't teasing him." Justin lied, Looking to Alex for back up.

"Alex is that true?" Mom asked.

"Yeah, Not at all. I've told him to quit it." Alex said smirking big time.

"i see. Justin, How would you like it if I called Justine or Jessica all day?" Mom asked, smirking now.

"..I wouldn't like it very much." Justin muttered and looked down at the floor now.

"Mmmhmm..So keep that in mind next time you get the urge to brat..I can always go and get you a adorable pretty princess lunch box and put Justine on the front of it and make you take it to school. Your father isn't the only one who can get creative with punishments."

Threat made Anne turned back to the kitchen counter and started on making Justin some breakfast.

"Y-You wouldn't!" Justin whined.

"Wanna try me? I'm already going to the store in a bit for more diapers for Alex." She said and smirked. "As is, I think you can have a nice toast and tea breakfast like your little brother. He's not feeling so good so you'll be watching him today."

"Ahhh moooom, I was gonna go hang out with Grizz and Rayne today!" Justin whined."I'm Sure Alex is a big enough boy he can look after himself! Or Dad can watch him!"

"Your father is going and helping Mr.Nilson build his deck today, But if you stay here I'll lift the TV ban so you two can play video games. Co-op only, I don't wanna come back to you both all mad at each other like what happens every single time you play a versus game."

Her point made the brothers both sulked as neither really wanted to be stuck with the others company.

Justin huffed his way though breakfast. between having to have buttered toast and tea instead of a meat explosion and being stuck with Alex all day he knew this was gonna suck all the balls, at least till he recalled his evil plan from last night and brightened up.

'Wait, no mom..no dad..and just me and the pamper butt. Oh yes yes yes yes yes! this is gonna work out great!' Justin thought and got a big silly grin on his face.

"Well, Somebody's cheered up after his tea." Mom teased.

"Oh yeah, I just had to wake up some more you know? I think I can have LOTS of fun with Alex today mom, so don't worry if you wanna take a bit." Justin said then added. "I know you like to drive around and it'll be nice for you not to have dad bugging you to hurry up or listening to me and Alex fighting."

"Well that's nice of you, though Alex is on his last two clean diapers so I really should hurry back." Mom said, giving Justin a half hug.

"oh nonsense! Alex is just gonna wear the diapers, It's not like he needs them mom, Right little bro?" Justin asked and smirked.

With Justin was being happy and helpful alarm bells were going off in Alex's head but there was nothing he could really say in argument of mom coming back sooner without tipping off he'd pooped himself earlier or making it sound like he needed his day time huggies. It was a catch 22 and Justin's look told Alex he knew it.

"yeah mom, I'll be ok..I'm sure me and Justin will have lots of fun." Alex said, trying to sound cheery.

Aside from not wanting to sound like he needed his diapers, he knew if he tried to whine to go with her or have her come back fast he'd also sound like a whinny little mama's boy.

"Well ok, If you boys are sure. I'll be heading out in a bit then, why don't you two leave the dishes for me and go and play some video games. And since you're both being good little guys for mommy." Anne smirked as both boys made a face at that. "You can both have 3 cans of soda each. Just try and spread them out."

the ugh faces turned into surprised smiles as mom was usually a stickler on the boys sticking to juice or water and she was always careful to keep a count on the can's of pop in the fridge.

Finishing up their light breakfast, the boys put their dishes in the sink and washed up a little then each one grabbed a can of cola out of the fridge and got a Blanket set out over the floor, well Alex got the blanket over the floor while Justin made sure the curtains were drawn shut.

Naturally normally Justin would of loved to of had the curtains wide open to show off his BABY brother but with mom still home he had to play nice.

Sides he wanted to try and draw Alex into a sense of relaxation before springing his super genius evil plan on him.

Alex wasn't falling for it for a second but went and fired up one of their rare co-op two player games (Since Justin wasn't a fan of retro games) and the boy's started to play, pausing only to wave bye to mom as she headed out, telling them that she'd be back in a hour or so, and to make sure dad woke up soon as he'd promised to be over helping with the deck bright and early.

They played in peace for about half a hour, with only cries of booya, eat it and the like coming out of their mouths and Justin giving Alex tips and for the most part they actually got along for a change.

That being said, all good things have to end and Justin never put his plan out of his mind, so when it was time to go and wake they're dad up he volunteered to do it while Alex took a much needed potty break.

Stopping by their room to grab Alex's phone Justin made a quick little call.

"Ngggh.. Yello?" came the groggy voice of Max.

"Heyyy max. how's it going?" Justin asked, keeping his voice down.

"Ngggh..Justin? what are you doing calling me?" the sleepy boy asked.

"Well Alex is kinda been missing you, and I was trying to set up a little surprise for him but getting you to come over and hang out with him." Justin said, grinning ear to ear.

"...OK who are you and what have you done with Justin?" Max asked, sounding suspicious.

"Hey, I can be a nice guy every now and then. but if you don't wanna come over finnnne." Justin huffed, mentally cursing just how well Max knew him.

"...Give me like 20 minutes or so to wake up and get some food in me." Max sighed on his end of the line.

"Ok the front door will be unlocked so just come in." Justin said and hung up.

with operation:show my brother baby butt off underway, Justin went off to go and wake up dad.

With dad being his normal cheery morning self (read: grumpy as fuck) Alex did his best to stay out of his way while he made himself a bacon and egg sandwich then grabbed his tool box and was out the door.

"I wonder he even offered to help if he was just gonna be this grumpy?" Alex asked Justin.

"Because there's free beer involved after the deck is built and you know mom won't let him bring any booze into the house." Justin said, oddly keeping a eye on the time.

"heh, you missing mom already or something?" Alex teased.

"Oh no, Just arranged a little surprise for you." Justin said and smirked.

As he smirked Alex felt a pang of fear go though him, the old Justin was back and he went to scramble up to his feet to get get away.

"ah ah ah, come here huggie butt." Justin taunted and grabbed onto Alex, tugging him down and into Justin's lap, pressing on his tummy.

Which had the effect of making Alex let out a massive fart.

"Dude! really? what are you, part skunk?" Justin asked, shoving Alex back out of his lap.

"M-Maybe!" Alex said, his tummy gurgling now and as he went to get up he ended up hunching over, anther fart coming out of him.

"Heh, Uh-oh, is widdle Alex gonna go poopie in his diapies?" Justin asked, smirking and getting up to block the path to the bathroom.

"J-Justin Nooo! I don't wanna poop my diapers again!" Alex whimper, hunched over and making his way over, yet anther fart coming out and that one was totally a wet one.

"Wait..ANTHER poopie diaper?" Justin asked, then it clicked. "Oh my god, you shit yourself in your sleep! Ahahaha! You really ARE a baby!"

"J-Justin Please! I'm begging you! Let me use the pot-" Alex started but then there was the sound of the front door opening and Alex was cut off by Max's voice.

"Allo allo! whats going..uh..on.." Max said, walking into view and looking at Alex in shock. "Uhhh.."

"M-Max!?! what are you doing here?!? I Uh..Oh god, Max don't loook!" Alex wailed.

Max was too shocked to look away though as Alex lost the battle with his bowels and the back of his diaper ballooned out as wave as wave of mush filled it, making the spider-man designs fade away and the formally white parts of the diaper go a ugly shade of brown.

With the back of the diaper being destroyed the front didn't get off easy either as Alex's bladder apparently didn't wanna be left out and he soaked the diaper even as he sank to his knees.

Balls up fists coming to his eyes and rubbing them as he started to bawl, Alex almost but not quite drowned out Max's million dollar question.

"Uhhh..what's going on here?"

The living room was filled with Alex's stink, but it was the smell of victory to Justin as he took in the scene with a sick joy. Alex was too busy bawling like the big baby he was to try and defend himself so Justin spoke up.

"Sorry about this Max, I tried to get baby Alex to cover up his diapers but he said he wanted you to see what a big baby he is an-" Justin started, but was cut off.

"Yeah, Bullshit. What's really going on here, Alex, did Justin make you wear a diaper?" Max asked, wincing as he moved over to comfort his friend.

'damn it! was hoping he'd fall for that. ah well, can't win'em all.' Justin thought.

Alex was still full on bawling though, and was just finishing up his dump and the diaper had amazingly held up.

"Alex..Alex buddy it's ok.. everyone has accidents." Max was saying and Justin rolled his eyes at that.

'just my luck, most boys his age would of started tormenting the fuck out of a pamper packer and I get the kind and understanding one.' Justin fumed.

"He's in all day diapers today because he went to sleep without putting one of his bed wetter pants on yesterday and wet the bed." Justin sighed. "And apparently if he's to believed he woke up stinky too."

"...Alex is this true?" Max asked.

Alex hiccuped and sniffled, calming down slightly now but he nodded.

"So..you knew his diapers were gonna be on display and invited me over..dude, your a asshole." Max said and glared at Justin.

"eh, Guilty as charged. but if you care soooo much about widdle Alex then you can get him cleaned up. Otherwise I'm gonna leave him to sit and stink." Justin said and shrugged, turning to leave.

"Sheesh.. brother of the year aren't you.. Where's his diapers?" Max asked helping Alex stand up and rubbing the poor guys back.

"In our room, I'll toss out what's left of them." Justin said then walked off leaving the stinky diaper boy and his little buddy to clean up.

For the second time this morning, Alex found himself doing a dirty diaper cowboy walk and heading for the bathroom, whimpering and saying sorry to Max over and over again.

"Hey, it's OK dude.. I should of known your brother was planning something when he invited me over. But Uh, I've known about your bed wetting for awhile." Max said, giving a sheepish grin.

"N-No you didn't, I'm super careful!" Alex whimpered.

they made it to the bathroom and Max had Alex stand with his legs spread and the trash bin in the bathroom under him as he undid the tapes and let the diaper plop down into the trashcan.

"yeahhh well about that.. you remember three weeks ago when we were playing Avengers in your room? you pack of Iron man diapers was sticking out from under your bed. When you weren't looking i pushed them back under with my foot." Max admitted, even as his face wrinkled in disgust.

"I..but..Noooo!" Alex whined babyishly.

Somehow this didn't change facts though.

"Look, we'll talk about it in a bit, you go and get in the shower, I'll go and get rid of the 'treasure'" Max said.

With no real choice in the matter, Alex nodded and made his way into the shower to go and get cleaned up.

'Pretty sad my best friend is more mature about this then my own brother..and Justin..your gonna pay!' Alex swore as he started the water.

After taking the plastic bag and putting it in the trash can outside, Max came back in and after opening some windows to air out the living room he made his way upstairs.Hearing the shower still running and found a pack of diaper with only two in it out front of the bathroom door.

the door to Justin and Alex's room was closed but since it didn't have a lock Max barged in anyways, finding Justin laying on his bed and reading a comic book.

"Can i help you?" Justin asked, a smirk on his face.

"That was a really shitty thing you just did to Alex, you know that right?" Max asked, hands on his hips.

"Cute choice of words there, and yeah, I'm a asshole and proud of it." Justin said.

"Yeah, well I'm gonna tell your parents what you did when they get back." Max shot back.

"Oh, cute idea. Let's tell them how Alex went and crapped his diapers when he has potty privileges and make it so he has to wear to school tomorrow. Of course I'll get grounded for inviting you over and showing off his diapers but who's really gonna come out on the short end of the deal here?" Justin asked.

Max blinked and tried to come up for a counter to that but just huffed and pouted.

"That's what I thought. If Mom asks when she gets back, Alex invited you over. I'll keep hush about the poopie diaper if you two little dweebs keep me out of trouble, deal?" Justin asked, going back to his comic book, clearly knowing he had the upper hand.

"..God your SUCH a asshole!" Max huffed and then stormed out.

Alex got out of the shower on his own and got himself diapered, then went and got a t-shirt (Hulk this time for the little avengers obsessed nerd) and a pair of black short's on over it before retreating down to the living room with Max, whining as Max told him about the deal Justin had offered.

"I don't know..he was suppose to shut up about the wet bed yesterday too and went back on it..and uh.. where did you put the..you know.." Alex asked huffing and squirming.

"Uh, out in the trash can on the side of the house. why?" Max asked.

"Because it's gonna be stinking up the block in no time and I'll get busted again for sure!" Alex whined.

"Well uh.. It's not like we can just go and ditch it in someone else's trash can you know." Max pointed out, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hmmm.." Alex said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully then snapped his fingers. "Hey! you know that old nature trail by here? the one that's hardly used anymore?"

"..Yesssss though I don't think I like where this is going." Max said.

"We'll take the stinky diaper and shovel out there, and bury it! by the time the trails popular again in the summer, no one will be able to smell it!" Alex said, beaming at his brilliant idea.

So excited with his 'brilliant plan' was he, that Alex actually started out of the room to head for the back yard to go and get the shovel.

"Alex, one second. You mighttttt wanna change into something baggier and with longer legs on it, those short's aren't really hiding your diaper butt." Max said with a small smirk.

Looking down and then looking at himself in a mirror Alex could see Max was right and gave a sheepish smile.

"Oh..yeah.. good call!" He said and then went to his dresser to find something a little more concealing.

Justin had of course by this time headed down stairs, not wanting to deal with Alex's 'toddler whining' ad he put it, and was playing a video game and drinking one of Alex's can's of soda since he had gone though his three.

Looking over as the pair went to go and get their shoes on he raised a eyebrow.

"And where are you two dweebs heading off too?" He asked then chuckled. "Awww, Is Max taking widdle Alex to da park ta pway?"

Alex growled but before he could speak up Max cut him off.

"Actually we're just gonna go and play on the old trail, go and dig some holes and the like. I figured that way if Alex has anther accident you won't have to smell it right away."

"Pffftt good thinking! did you pack a diaper bag for him then, hence the book bag?" Justin chuckled.

of course he couldn't of known that the pack pack was for holding the stinky diaper once they got it out of the trash, though he really didn't care anyways.

Alex meanwhile was blushing big time and huffing like a pouty toddler.

"Ayup, though hopefully it'll just be a wet diaper." Max said.

"pffft, ok. just be back soonish, Mom will wanna know where you are." Justin said and went back to his game.

Once they were outside Alex gave max a semi hard punch to the arm.

"what the heck was that all about! you sounded like you were on his side!" Alex huffed and glared.

"Uh, OW! and we didn't want him to know what we're really doing did we?" Max asked and then swatted Alex's padded backside, making a whumping sound.

"...You didn't have to be so believable." Alex huffed.

"oh I'm sorry, did you want him following us? knowing him he'd of tugged your pants off once you were on the trail and tossed them in a tree!" Max shot back.

the thought of being trapped in public with his diaper exposed made Alex blush and squirm, and let out a muffled fart of fear.

"Ah.. do you need, to go back inside and sit on the potty?" Max asked.

"NO!" Alex growled, then paused, and looked thoughtful and wiggled his butt a little, making Max have to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

"Yeah no, I'm good." Alex confirmed a few seconds later.

The adventure out to bury the treasure so to speak was uneventful, much as Alex had predicted the trail was dead this time of the year and the only hard part was digging into the semi solid earth, the shovel being almost too big for the either shorty to really use it so they had to take turns.

Coming back they were greeted in the driveway by Anne who was less then pleased to see Alex not only outside when she was still concerned he was sick, but that he was all dirty from playing in the dirt.

At least it worked out that she'd been home for about five minutes by that time so she'd already taken his new pack of diapers (Avengers print this time) to his room but still she gave Alex a mild scolding and sent Max home.

After that it was a day of just lazing around the house but Anne had also insisted on keeping a close eye on Alex so he hadn't been able to get enough alone time to e-mail Ben.

[deberiaestarescribiendo]

Desperate situations call for desperate measures. Ch.II Dave York x F!reader. #Writer Wednesday 05/19/21

#Writer Wednesday 05/19/21 for @autumnleaves1991-blog

Summary: After you did your first job for Dave, you’ve been training for this moment. Your first job alone, your first kill.

Warning: Dave York, he’s a warning in his own, descriptions of murder and death, anxiety and panic attacks, blood and injuries. Maybe some kissing...or not

A/N: This is a second part of a series that started with the second picture challenge in a #Writer Wednesday called “Desperate situations call for desperate measures” read it here, it would not make sense if you read this alone. This is slow burn and for the moment I let everything a bit suggestive but it would eventually become hotter. Because Dave is Dave and he likes to torture us.

Desperate situation call for desperate measures. Chapter II

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817

“I’m sorry everything is a mess. I was not used to live alone. My wife left a month ago and I thought I could manage everything by myself at first, but...” the man opens the door to you and lowers his head in shame.

You can see the bare mattress since the fitted sheet is partly touching the carpet and the duvet is a ball at one side, you can see from here that he didn’t bother to change the pillowcases and the one he uses has his head shaped into it with yellowish marks of sweat on them. The rest of the room is sprinkled with dirty laundry and empty glasses and dirty dishes. In front of the bed the closet stays open, no clothes hanging in it as the laundry basket is full and the clothes spills over until they fall around it.

The room stinks and the half closed shutters and the window glass full of dust assure he hasn’t aired it in a long time. He’s a pig, a lazy dirty pig but, does he deserve to die? You breathe deeply trying to ignore the sour taste the smell of the room leaves in your mouth.

“I will do the laundry and change the sheets first” you say with a soft smile

“Thank you, I’ll be in my office if you need me” he walks away in his pajamas and drags his feet over the carpet as if he couldn’t even raise the weight of his legs, destroyed and done with the world, with no clean clothes just a pajama and two non matching socks. And he will die like this. You think is not fair, whatever he has done, he deserves a little bit of dignity. But that’s not your choice. That’s what you have to do, it’s not personal.

You try not to breathe while you pretend to tidy up. When you hear the soft muffle tunes of country music, you know it’s time. You take off your shoes and walk stealthily towards the room at the end of the aisle. From the door you see his bald head, eyes fixed on his computer, and he doesn’t hear you when you come close to him as you have observe from weeks of stalking you know he listens to his music too loudly, so when you insert the needle on his carotid that’s the first time he notices you.

His head turns with an expression of horror and surprise, his blue eyes widely open while his thin capillaries burst clouding his eyeballs in red while he gasps.

“Shhh” you hear yourself making soothing sounds to him and you hold his head with care with your hands covered in black latex gloves. It’s no personal, you repeat in your head when you see how he face contorts when the air is not longer getting inside his lungs, the veins in his neck are thick and visible through his now red skin. You turn your head and try to remember all the shit Dave has told you. You try to remember his deep voice, his hands guiding your movements

“It’s not personal” he said and now you repeat it loudly, the target expires and he tenses for a moment and then you let him go, his face hitting the keyboard.

“It’s not personal” you whimper and hold back the tears remembering the DNA that you absolutely cannot leave.

You didn’t even catch his name, you actually think you ignore it once he told you, but now it doesn’t matter, because with name or without it, his face will burn forever in your mind. Your first job, your first kill.

It’s not personal.

6 months ago. Dave’s car, after the phone booth call

“We have arrived” his palm burns on your cheek and you suddenly remember where you are. His cologne and aftershave on his wool coat, the fresh and clean scent inside his car and the mud you have brought inside it.

“Arrive where?” you raise on your sit and look through the windows, it’s a common street, small apartments buildings stuck to one and other, a few cars parked to both sides and the sidewalks glow with the dew of the imminent sunrise.

“Safe house” he says before exiting the car, you see him turn until he opens your door and bends down looking at you like evaluating if you could get out on yourself “Come” Dave lends you his hand and you take it holding it tightly trying to gather the strength to move your legs but they shake so violently that Dave grabs you by the waist and pulls you out of the car. Your body, used to the warmth inside the vehicle, tremble and your muscles stiffen in the chill air of the dawn.

You lean on Dave and let him drag you to the stairs of the building while your head rests on his shoulder “we haven’t use this once in a while, but for tonight it will do” he comments as he opens the glass door. There’s no sound coming from the few flats on each floor, some of the walls look half painted and you wonder if there’s someone living here, would he own a damn building in the center of the city?

The apartment is big, dark wood parquet and white walls make the room look open and there’s only a marble isle with two stools close to the kitchen and a grey sofa in front of it.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom. You need a warm bath”

He lets you seated on the toilet while he prepares everything. You observe him, he wears all black: a hoodie and sweatpants and it’s a drastic change from the first time you met him. His brown hair is disheveled as if he had taken off a hat or a helmet. Where was he before you called him?

“There’re only man clothes here, but tomorrow I will bring you something more suitable” He has a duffle bag and he takes out some small shampoo and shower gel bottles, toothbrush and paste and a plastic zip bag full of what looks like to be different medication.

“You’re always prepared” you mutter and you feel your voice coarse and how it stings to say anything. You screamed, a lot, you remember now how they killed Tom and how you fled.

“We have to be” Dave bends down and adjusts the temperature while the water runs down from the shower head. He extends his hand to the stream “I think it’s warm enough. I leave you to it” he gives you one of those warm smiles and you notice now that a dimple appears when he does it. You know nothing of him but for some reason you’re sure that he doesn’t let many people see this kind of gentleness and it makes your heart beat faster. You hope that smile is only for you, that you own that little part of him.

You get up and stumble when your head turns

“Hey take it easy. There’s a towel just on the sink. I’ll wait outside” he lingers on the door frame when you don’t move for a few minutes, your gaze fixed on the bathroom mirror, the steam from the shower cannot conceal the horror it reflects. Your hair is a mess, some of it glued in sweat and mud on your cheek, you have bruises and bleeding scratches all over the skin your stupid dress didn’t cover.

“I’ll be just here, say something if you need me” Dave interrupts your thoughts and he closes the door leaving you alone with you reflection. That woman out of a horror movie you don’t recognize. You strip feeling how every movement makes you flinch, every fiber of your body screaming in pain. You remember how you ran, how you waited hours in the cold mud. Your feet hurt as if you were stepping on fire when you touch the warm water, it runs towards the drain black and red, when your feet are clean you see the blisters and cuts you have on them. You walk humming slowly and you sound just like a zombie and you feel like one. But you’re not dead.

When the warm running water hits your back you moan and you stay there until you feel your muscle untangle, head down watching all the dirt leaving your body. And it feels so nice that you could fall sleep right here, it feels so peaceful that you feel as if your soul could leave your body. But you’re not dead.

You know who’s dead? a voice asks in your head. You mumble his name, the name of your friend. Tom. Yes, he’s dead, probably his body stiff and cold in a puddle of his own blood on the pavement of that dreadful place, and here you are in a nice apartment taking a warm shower. Probably the nicest place you’ve been in a while, your house, his house, the house of your dead friend was not this classy and tidy, but he put a roof over your head, shared the food he had with you even if it was just crumbles, even if he was stupid. Nobody deserves to die like a pig and be let wherever to be never seen again.

Does he have a family? You met other friends of his, they must be worried. What did they do with his body? Where’s his mum? Now that you think about it he used to have some long calls on weekends, maybe it was her o maybe a partner. Anyway somebody must be looking for him or they will be once he doesn’t show up in a few days. They deserve to know. You have to tell Dave about it. No, he will dismiss it. It’s too dangerous...you’re the last person somebody saw Tom with, you lived with him these past few weeks so once they look for him, they will look for you... and how will you explain...

You haven’t noticed how the water is burning your skin and how you breathing is getting faster and faster until you cannot get enough air in your lungs for much you try. You attempt to call Dave but your chest feels like it’s made of stones. The steam and you eyes starts to blurry making it impossible to get out and you hit the glass screen to get out and suddenly they are open and from the white mist you feel his body holding you

He hushes on your forehead as he did when he had picked you up. Holding your head on his big palms he makes you look at him.

“Breathe for me. Can you do that?” and you nod “Try to match my breathing” He place your head to his chest and he inhales deeply and let his air out slowly. You whimper feeling as if your lungs could expand and release the air, but hearing his breathing and feeling how his strong chest is pressed against you pushing you out and back in again. And you can breathe again. “Let’s get you clean and then you can rest” He places your numb body under the shower head while he pours some shower gel on his hand.

It smells just like him, fresh and some deep tones you cannot identify but it relaxes you instantly. You pay no mind that you’re naked as the day you wear born and Dave doesn’t give any sign that it bothers him. He softly grabs one of your arms and brushes his hand leaving pearly white bubbles over your skin and he turns you and cleans your back and then he slowly repeats the process to the other arm “Stay here” he says getting you back to the wall while switches to the shampoo bottle “Lower your head for me” he commands and gently brushes two of his fingers over you nape leaving your skin in gooseflesh.

He scratches your scalp softly massaging from the forehead to your neck, his knuckles softly pressing on your hurting vertebrae and you moan loudly. The pressure you felt over your shoulders swiftly being relieved. “Let’s rinse it and you can go to sleep” his voice is soft and deep, the sweetest music you’ve heard mixed with the murmur of the water. He passes the shower head over your head until you imagine there’s no more soap and then he wraps you in a soft white towel and gets you out of the shower. You walk on your tiptoes, your feet too hurt to fully press them on the ground.

“Almost there” he whispers

The bed is the nicest you have tested in your whole life, the pillows adapt to your head and you moan feeling a mixture of pain, pleasure and tiredness as you have never experience.

“I will let you sleep now and I will come back in the morning” he flips his wrist, his silver watch shakes and he looks at it with disgust for a second “well, in a few hours, you need at least a good 8 hours, and we will see what to do next”

Your mind is foggy and you watch him through semi closed eyes “Thank you” you whisper “but what happens with Tom?” you ask, mid sentence your voice breaks and you exhale all your air before you could give in to the panic again.

Dave raises one eyebrow, seated next to you on the bed; he evaluates you for a second.

“I know he’s dead, I...what about his body? his family?”

“Sadly nobody knows what happened to him... or to you” he sighs, his face show a perfect image of sadness “And nobody will” the change it’s fast, you can see his eyes turn darker, it’s a warning. Nobody will know and you better keep it that way

“But...the police” he hushes you again and a kindly brushes his knuckles over your cheek

“We’ll talk later. Do you think you will sleep or you need me to get you something to help you fall asleep?” he points to the bathroom where he left the plastic zip bag

“No, thank you” you answer and you feel already how you’re slurring the words

“Good girl”

You will think later it was part of your dreams. That your brain was so desperate to find any comfort, to try to stop the never ending loop of Tom’s death in your head that it imagined something you have wanted since you met Dave.

He bends down and comes closer until your faces are almost touching. You feel the tip of his nose and his fresh breath over your cheek but in a second he goes a few millimeters down and his lips touch yours so briefly that when your mind can process it, it’s already gone.

You fight your eyes and your body, you want to whine and ask for more, ask for his body against yours again, but you fall sleep and when you wake up, sweating, scared and screaming, he’s not there.

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817. Half an hour after the target’s death.

You have clean everything up. Somebody will ask for him, his neighbors, maybe his family or friends, probably his boss. They will think that he must have mixed two of his medicaments, the one his doctor specifically had advice to keep apart because it could be dangerous to mix together but since it was his wife who organized everything and now she’s gone; they will find that he had effectively mixed the two inside the cupboards. The house is a mess, his mind was too so nobody will be surprised he committed a silly fatal error. His dirty laundry will stay there until they empty the house and throw away his things, those permanent things will disappear from earth as he had. And nobody will know the truth.

You carefully take out your gloves and the needle with the small glass bottle inside a zipper plastic bag and you get out of the house. A dark big truck waits for you and you get on the passenger’s seat.

“So, how did it go?” he asks

“Fine. it’s done” you take out your wig and the net that keeps your hair carefully tucked inside to prevent you from leaving DNA

Dave looks at you for a moment and reaches for your head massaging the scalp and you press your lips together so a moan doesn’t escape from it though his fingers untangling an relieving the pressure from the wig is the most intimate and delicious thing you’ve felt. Well, since the day he had showered you because you were exhausted.

He’s nicely dressed in a grey suit and a red tie, from the rearview mirror you see his wool coat and black leather briefcase. Where is going? where was he ? It’s been six month since he started your training and still you have no clue of who he really is.

You snap back to reality once you feel his hand on your chin

“Are you sure?” he asks. His brown eyes penetrate you and you wish that that bridge he builds between you two would be a two way street. That one day you will know every little corner of him as he knows about yourself and your mind. But for the moment you’re lost in his presence, blindfolded and wishing he could show you more but scare of what you might find.

“He’s dead, I watched him die and checked him minutes after like you taught me” you respond lowering your head. You don’t want to show him how you were on the break of tears, how you had second thoughts and how you pitied the poor man.

“I’m not asking about him, I’m asking about you” he lifts your face up

“I’m okay” you mutter and cough to gain a little bit more of strength in your voice “I’m fine”

“Then congratulations” he smiles and you look at him confused “It’s your first job alone and you did well” he explains “Open the glove box” he starts the car while you wait confused by the whole thing “Open it, c’mon, there’s a gift for you” he smirks

You do and there’s a white laminated badge. You recognize Dave’s face and you see for the first time his full name: David York, CIA.

You turn your head to him, a cold stream of sweat runs through your nape.

“I know you’ve worried about the police, how they will find you; and you’ve been loyal, obedient and efficient. As I told you, you will learn to trust me as the team and I will trust you back” he looks at the road while he speaks and you cannot take out your eyes from the badge

“Am I...am I working for the CIA?” you ask

“God, no!” he laughs, a deep husky chuckle “What I mean, it’s that we’re safe. I can contain things when we need to. So you can relax”

Relax? If anything you’re way more scared of him now you know this. He must me lying; he can falsify one of those...right? Or is he being honest?

“And that’s my gift?” you say closing the small door. You cannot lay your eyes anymore on that thing

“No, there’s more”

He parks at your neighborhood, the same he took you to six month ago. It’s not fully decorated yet but you’re proud of what you’re doing with it and it reminds you of the houses that you used to see in those style magazines: open concept, simple colors and practical furniture. On the tea table at the center of the leaving room there’s a blue box with a ribbon. Dave points to it “That’s for you”

You open it and gasp: There’s a small cactus, your book but it hasn’t its usual yellowish pages and the covers are not wrinkled, and that old picture, the only happy memory of your childhood is now framed in a nice silver frame. The things you left months ago in Tom’s house.

“You kept my things...all this time?”

“I couldn’t take them when Resnik went to make sure there was nothing to tie him to us, but he gave me a list of your belongings and I thought it will be nice if you keep something from your old life”

“How did you find that picture, the only person that has another copy is...” you open your eyes widely “You haven’t...”

“He’s alive; I just took what I wanted to know about you and that picture”

“Thank you” you hold the frame to your chest holding back tears

“You’re welcome”

He nods and turns away to leave

“Dave?”

“Hm?”

“What did he do?”

“What did I tell you?”

“It’s not personal”

and he nods but he gazes at you and how your hands hold the frame tightly and you’re starting to breathe deeply

“Would it help if you knew that he was a horrible human being?”

“Well...” you bite your lip

“It won’t, I assure you” he walks slowly towards you until he’s so close and you wish it wouldn’t be so easy, that you wouldn’t be tamed as a small pet just with his presence close to you and his scent clouding your judgment.

“That’s what you do for the CIA?”

“Don’t be eager. You and I will eventually know each other really well” he grins and takes the frame from your hands “You were a very beautiful baby” he smiles at the picture

“Thanks”

“What are you dress up as?” He gives you one of those warm smiles and you feel the hunger to just jump to his lips and kiss him. My smile, that warmth, that small spark of kindness is mine.

“A fairy...a princess, something like that”

“Very pretty” he carefully puts the frame at the center of the table

“That girl would be very surprised to know that now she kills people”

“She will, and have to be, very proud to be a survivor” there’s something in his eyes, an anger but not towards you, something that hurts him and you wish to know, that he’d be as naked and transparent as you are for him.

“I don’t feel very proud today” you keep your eyes fixed on that baby almost lost on the pink tulle, smiling with almost no teeth to the woman holding her on her lap. Tears gather on the corner of your eyes

“You will learn to let it go, I promise” his hand hold you and you feel that you’ve landed back on earth after many memories have awaken the storm inside your heart.

How can he calm you, scare you, make you feel safe and weak at the same time?

“So I didn’t graduate today?” you shake your head and he smiles

“Not yet. You’re closer to be what I wanted and needed, but not yet there, sweetheart”

“What else is there to be taught?” you’ve training not stop for the past six months.

“So much” his thumb traces your jaw line

“Until I’m what you want and need” you repeat his words

“Exactly, do you still want to?”

You give a last look at the past, at your past self, that happy innocent baby that would never thought she will be so lost in the future, so desperate and alone until she found this man that had give her this twisted life, full of shadows and dark thoughts, lies and death and that you’re dying to be even more tangled with him that you already are.

“I’m yours, Dave”

(Since you were interested in a continuation for the first chapter, here you go. Thank you for you nice feedback on the first one and I hope you like it and sorry for taking so long to get a second part : @ericasabe @1andthesame)

[why-this-kolaveri-machi]

whumptober day 10: crying

slightly more straightforward h/c this time!

summary: set after the ric grayson/joker war arc in nightwing. 

dick’s been missing for two months. jason finds him first, but it’s just the first step in finding how very, very lost dick really is.

warnings: SPOILERS for the aforementioned nightwing arcs. plentiful cursing. moderately graphic descriptions of injuries.

crying

The last time Jason received a family-wide SOS to help them rescue Dick, the guy was a twice-brainwashed mess whose brain was being pulled in opposite directions by the Court of Owls and the fucking Joker, and that was after said brain had been shattered by a fucking sniper’s bullet. (And a period of being left to fend for himself with a broken brain in between, but Jason doesn’t really like to think about that.) This time, he doesn’t know quite what to expect. He can’t imagine things have gotten even worse than the last go-around, but then again, Jason knows from personal experience that there’s no end to the list of ‘things that are worse than dying’.

Besides, the alert came from Babs. And, in quick succession, Tim, Bruce, Duke, and Cass. If nothing else, Jason is curious.

Dick disappeared from Bludhaven about two months ago. The reason the oh-so-precise Bats have the word ‘about’ in that statement is because nobody can really pinpoint the exact date it happened. Donna can recall dropping by his place ten weeks ago. Tim maybe exchanged a few emails or text messages a few weeks ago but didn’t really get alarmed about Dick not responding to his messages until the radio silence stretched for over a month. Bruce had his trackers on (that bastard) but Dick hates them and is known to destroy the ones he finds. And they can’t even really depend on reports of Nightwing sightings in the city because having his brain knocked around and pulled apart like taffy means Dick takes regular holidays from patrols if he’s not feeling particularly steady that day. (Look what being sensible and having a smidgeon of a sense of self-preservation got him.) And the CCTV in his apartment complex was shit, so. 

It’s almost like it was a planned thing, like he was kidnapped, but honestly it’s how things go and how they’ve gone for a very long time: they drift in their own worlds for long periods until an event brings them together, and then it’s back to being scattered across the country again (or sometimes the world, or sometimes the galaxy). Dick is more prone to this than most; he’s probably gone undercover more than any of them, and he’s lived the longest on his own as well. 

Even after the clusterfuck that was the last year and change, it’s nothing new. And if that isn’t the most fucking depressing thing that Jason’s had to think about today, it turns out that not only have the Family figured out where Dick is, but that Jason is the one that’s closest to his location. 

So here he is, shivering, on a particularly icy night on the Gotham docks, scoping out the warehouse where Dick’s supposed to be. It’s not very well-guarded, which either means there’s nothing in there and this is a massive waste of his time, or that it’s a trap and what’s waiting on the other side is a fucking bomb or something even worse. It’s not a great situation to be in either way, and Jason’s got half a mind to have Tim or even Bruce take over--but it’d take too long for them to get there and Jason’s never been fond of the idea of handing over to someone else anything that he could potentially do by himself.

Besides, like he said, he’s curious.

He crouches down at his vantage point overlooking the warehouse and presses the communicator in his ear. “Two guards in front but nothing else; the place is practically abandoned. Infrared picking up three people inside.” He shifts his weight from one foot to another, bracing, ready to spring. “I’m about to go in.”

Tim grunts. “I’ll be there in fifteen, give or take a couple.”

“Twenty,” Bruce says. Then: “Hood, you--” An uncharacteristic pause, and Jason can feel the sudden, uneasy chill across the entire comm channel. Bruce clears his throat. “Be careful. Assess the situation first. Don’t engage alone unless it’s an emergency.”

There’s a thanks for stating the obvious on the tip of Jason’s tongue, but something about the gravity of the situation, the mildest quaver in Bruce’s voice (he’s been missing for two months, god, two months) has him say, instead: “Roger that.”

Jason makes quick work of the guards in the front, leaving them in unconscious heaps on the ground before he creeps in. They’d hardly put up a fight, which just makes Jason’s stomach twist in anxious knots. The anxiety is made worse by the complete lack of resistance when he’s actually inside: there are only two huge, cavernous rooms, and one of them has two of the three people that he’d detected. They scatter as soon as they see him and Jason considers chasing, but now his nerves are stretched so taut that he thinks he’s going to vomit if he doesn’t see Dick now--

The night-vision on Jason’s helmet catches a figure sitting, slumped, in the corner of the room. A chain connects a manacle around its ankle to the wall, and another between the same wall and… a collar around its neck. Jason’s blood is already boiling before he steps closer and recognises the figure as Dick. His hair is long and shabby, having grown past his chin, curtaining his face. He’s shirtless but wearing ripped, stained jeans. His hands are cuffed in front of him, the thin metal biting into his wrists enough to leave his hands puffy and slightly purple from the lack of effective circulation. He looks considerably thinner--Jason can just about count the ribs under his skin--and every visible part of his torso is painted in bruises in various stages of healing. And--

--and he’s breathing.

Well, thank fuck. That’s a start.

Jason crouches in front of Dick and presses his comm again. “Found N. Little worse for wear, but alive and safe.”

He ignores the immediate clamour of questions from the others to focus on trying to get Dick awake. He brushes Dick’s hair aside and gently lifts his chin to have a look at his eyes. 

Dick smiles at him. “Hey.”

Jason is beset by an onslaught of emotion that’s part relief, part incredulity and part anger, so much so that he thinks he’s going to fucking burst with the pressure of it. Of course that would be the first thing out of Dick’s mouth--hey--like he’s meeting Jason for cocktails after work instead of being rescued after two months of captivity and torture! Well he can take that hey and shove it right up his fucking--

“Is there anything else here we need to worry about,” Jason says, busying himself with picking the locks on Dick’s manacles so that he doesn’t snap and say something he’ll regret.

Dick shakes his head. He’s got a shaggy beard going and he stinks of sweat and urine and filth, but there’s a sense of… togetherness to him, like he’d always known that Jason was going to show up at this exact minute and that had always been part of his plan. “They scattered as soon as they got word that you guys were coming,” he says, voice thin and raspy. “I guess not enough of them were curious to stick around to find out why so many capes would be coming for me.”

Jason pops the manacles and collar loose and goes to work on the cuffs. “So you weren’t taken as Nightwing.”

Dick sighs, then winces as the motion pulls on the gigantic bruise around his neck. “I wasn’t taken as Dick Grayson, either.”

The cuffs come off with a click. Jason stares at him. “So… what, you were just some poor mug they picked up off the streets to… torture for shits and giggles?”

Dick is silent for a moment. His eyes flick to a point behind Jason and back again. “They knew me as Ric.”

It takes a moment for the name to click in Jason’s brain, but he finally remembers that it was what Dick called himself during his brain-injured year in Bludhaven. “Why would Ric have enemies?” he says, without thinking.

There’s that smile on Dick’s face again, but this time it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Ric did have a life, Jason. And friends. And… enemies.” He begins to move, bare feet shifting against the floor and shifting his weight onto his hands as if he’s trying to figure out a way to stand up, but barely manages an inch of elevation before he runs out of energy, breathing heavily. “Ric--I used to fight. Street fights. Involved a lot more money and people than I remembered, and… apparently a lot of people felt betrayed when I just up and left the city one day. I’ve been fighting matches here almost every day.” A sudden, sharp grin. “I haven’t lost yet.”

Jason--stops. Utterly freezes, hands midway to helping Dick sit upright, because there’s something terribly, terribly wrong here. “Why didn’t you ever try to escape? And how--I mean, in the first place--”

How did you even get caught?

To Jason’s horror, tears start rolling down Dick’s face. His expression doesn’t really change, so Jason’s not sure that Dick’s even aware that he’s crying, but right now Jason is already halfway to being mortified. “I was on my way back from the gym,” Dick says finally, “and I think I--I blacked out. It happens sometimes.” Dick gives a wet laugh. “Talk about bad timing.”

“And--and what, you blacked out for two months?”

At this Dick’s face crumples, and suddenly Jason gets it: this is a man pushed and pushed to the end of his rope and beyond, utterly exhausted, past the point of caring who knows about it or why. “I guess…” Dick swallows. “I didn’t really see the difference. Between--between here and out there.”

Jason wants to scream, shake his shoulders--a shameful part of him even wants to hit Dick--and tell him that of course it was different outside of this stupid, dank warehouse: he has friends and family and a lifetime of experience to support him while he flies free. It’s ridiculous to even compare the two, and Jason is ready to put these words down to the effects of too much pain and too little food.

Except--

(plucked you right out of one life and stuffed you into another, didn’t they? treated you like a puppet without a past and a future, didn’t they? didn’t let you entertain the idea of a different life even for a minute, did they? punished you for straying, reminded you there was just too much at stake, and that those stakes were always, always bigger than you or your health or your happiness or your future--)

“Dick, I--” Jason really doesn’t know what to say. Tim says, “ETA five” in his ear while Bruce says, “Right behind you, Robin” and Jason knows, just knows, that this isn’t how they would want to see Dick, and more importantly, this isn’t how Dick would want them to see him.

He gathers Dick in his arms and presses him to his chest. Dick freezes for a second, surprised, then melts into his embrace. His shoulders shake, hands coming up to weakly grasp at Jason’s jacket. The sobs reach a crescendo quickly, a pathetic keening muffled into Jason’s chest, before tapering away and Dick is still, just… breathing. 

Jason breathes with him.

That’s how Tim and Bruce find them a couple of minutes later. Dick peels away and somehow musters the energy to reassure them. Bruce helps him up and carries him to the car while Jason follows; just as Dick’s lowered into the backseat his hand shoots out, grasping Jason’s arm in a silent plea. 

Jason gets in with him. Neither he nor Bruce say anything through the whole drive at the tears that continue to pour down Dick’s face, but Jason doesn’t let go of his hand for the whole ride.

[bigskydreaming]

Also if people instinctively reaching for their “its just my interpretation” arguments as a rebuttal to that post about issue #416 could just not, I’d super appreciate it, thaaaaaanks.

See, the problem I have with that is like....no its not. Its really really not. If your fic or your meta is otherwise DIRECTLY referencing specific story beats of that specific ISSUE, like Dick not having talked to Bruce in over a year, or Dick not knowing Jason even existed until he saw it on the news, or Dick leaving Jason his phone number, or anything of the like.....it is not at all unreasonable for me to expect you to acknowledge the story beats of that very same issue that all of those things are written IN RESPONSE TO. 

You can yell at me about how the firing is just a retcon til the cows come home, but y’know what? It was a retcon that was reiterated IN THAT VERY SAME ISSUE. In it, Dick reiterated what the firing looked like from his perspective, how he waited around for two weeks for Bruce to change his mind before packing up and leaving with opportunities for Bruce to say something every step of the way....THAT is the SPECIFIC sequence of events that Dick’s anger about all of this comes from.

So its extremely disingenuous to try and pair that anger with the pre-Crisis ‘better version’ of events where Dick gives up being Robin all on his own and becomes Nightwing while still on good terms with Bruce...because that version of events has its OWN corresponding aftermath that was written in direct response to THOSE character choices. Like the aftermath where right after becoming Nightwing, Dick turns around and offers Robin to Jason himself, as he of course is already well acquainted with Jason by then. See, that’s kinda part of why Dick and Bruce are on such better terms in that version of events. It has a lot to do with Bruce not adopting a whole other son without so much as a phone call to let Dick know his family had expanded.

Now you can mix and match to your heart’s content, that has NEVER been in question. Especially since as so often said, its a fandom past time to take a match to canon and watch it burn. You don’t have to adhere to aaaaaanything you don’t want to.

BUT.

If you want to talk about INTERPRETING the canon? That is subject to a different set of standards. Because you’re acknowledging that the source material exists as a point of RELEVANCE to you.....and the fact is....the source material is the SAME for everyone discussing it. Now, people can and do have different interpretations of that same material, this is obviously true. But ACTUAL. GENUINE. DISCUSSION of it.....requires that all parties at least discuss those interpretations in good faith, and make an honest attempt to address the material as it is.

And that is not what happens in this fandom. Because you damn well KNOW that for all your talk of the firing just being a retcon......its still the specific version of events the “Dick being mad about Bruce giving Robin to Jason” thing is directly meant to reference and BUILD off of. Retcon or not, it is indisputably the FOUNDATION upon which the other character choices of that very same issue are built atop of.

Because there is another version of events, yes. The pre-Crisis version where Dick gives up Robin. But as I said, that version DOES NOT HAVE Dick angry or resentful....because a key component of it is that all three of them, Bruce, Dick and Jason, are already a family in spirit. There’s a true succession of Robin from Dick passing it down to Jason.

And a lot of you guys know this too. Especially the ones most likely to reach for that “let us have our interpretation!” arguments. Because the Dick Grayson corner of fandom has posted about it a LOT. In fact, we kinda churn out a crap ton of content for this fandom. Headcanons, ficlets, informative posts, etc. And there’s a very curious phenomenon that exists.....

Literally anything I or certain other DG fans post that is inclusive of the whole family, or does not reference any specific event that’s infamous within fandom for pitting Dick against another Batfam member in a ‘who was right, discuss” kinda way.....that tends to circulate WIDELY in fandom. We’re talking upwards of a thousand notes, regularly.

In comparison.....the informative posts that are chock full of panels pointing out how canon actually goes in these specific instances.....tend to top out at a couple hundred max. Its pretty much just fellow DG stans who reblog them. Everyone else, despite them going through the same initial routes of circulation....are very good at pretending they don’t see them.

Because see, misinformation - and make no mistake, that is what we’re talking about here - RELIES on a lack of like.....actual information provided to the contrary to thrive. 

For instance, if it were as common knowledge that in the pre-Crisis version of Dick becoming Nightwing, he makes Jason Robin himself, as it is say.....that the firing Dick as Robin story is ‘just a shitty retcon’......people might start to ask in greater numbers, like, okay, so why DON’T more people write Dick making Jason into Robin after giving it up himself? Why have Dick so bitter at Bruce and/or Jason, if in the only version where Dick gives up Robin, Dick passes it on himself? If you’re gonna go with the one, why not the other?

Because we all know damn well that’s not a difference in interpretation. That’s a conscious CHOICE to TRANSFORM the source material by stitching together two different sides of a cause and effect chasm. The events transpiring after Dick finds out Bruce made Jason Robin himself ARE NOT MEANT to reference the inciting event of Dick giving up Robin himself. You can make that happen, sure. But you have to MAKE it happen. There is no point in the comics where you can honestly, genuinely point to the comics and say this right here shows Dick being mad about this, where ‘this’ is Bruce giving Robin to Jason SPECIFICALLY after Dick gave Robin up, rather than being fired.

A choice has to be made there, for that to happen, if one has the ACTUAL information about how that really played out in the comics rather than just misinformation. And not everyone in fandom trusts everyone else to make the choices they would like them to make with the source material, do they?

After all, isn’t that the REAL root of all this?

See.....its no secret to any of us that nobody’s been all that happy with the actual comics aka source material in years. Meaning most of fandom, myself included, is here for meta and fics based on previously written comics, or our own adaptations of the material.

And fandom, being interactive, unlike canon.....is something that CAN be influenced by other fans.

So why don’t we all just stop fucking pretending that we’re not all trying to influence what the overarching fandom narratives are, shall we?

Oh, you can say this is just me projecting, but I’ve got plenty of instances of hypocrisy to point to that say otherwise. And THAT is the true source of my hostility in so many posts in this fandom.

Because its the very same people who loudly cry “let people have their headcanons” and “let people have their interpretations” and “stop trying to tell people there’s only one true version of canon to go off of” who NEVER. EVER. fail to show up on posts like that last one, the SECOND they start to circulate ‘too widely’ throughout fandom. There is ALWAYS someone waiting in the wings the minute a post like that starts to top a couple hundred notes, ready and raring to shoot it down with some kind of derailment or condescending reminders to everyone who might see it that ‘that’s just a bad retcon for people obsessed with misery porn’ or something like that.

And what exactly should we be calling that? When people show up every single time I make a post about the importance of Robin as a name to Dick, in order to make a big stink about how it being his mother’s name for him is just a retcon? Even though....did I say it wasn’t? Does it being a retcon mean it doesn’t exist? Am I not allowed MY interpretation of a story that very much does exist in canon, am I not allowed to reference other stories where that specific retcon is specifically linked to?

Or how about if I say, post a headcanon about Alfred getting snippy with Bruce about not reaching out to Dick after he leaves home, where within the headcanon itself I specifically reference a clear version of the story where Dick is fired and its eighteen months before he and Bruce speak again? Does this story not exist in canon? Am I not allowed to base stuff of it? It would seem not, given the way people jumped to derail that one by adding in additions about Dick being upset with Bruce about college, which is an entirely different continuity that in no way intersects with the specific events I reference, where they’re estranged for a clear reason that is directly raised within the headcanon itself. People even acknowledge “OP is entitled to any version of continuity they want” in that one, but are like....this one is wrong though, and true fans prefer the one that isn’t just misery porn meant to validate Dick’s teenage angst. With people all too happy to reblog that one while gleefully pointing out the tags that completely derail the post about a clear point in canon by making it entirely about another unrelated point in a different continuity in order to invalidate the initial headcanon or whatever.

Don’t even get me started on when we dare reference stories where Bruce is actually physically abusive to Dick, or when we link Dick’s actions in stories that acknowledge the emotional abuse or neglect of certain key moments in his life TO those inciting moments directly and say “hey its kinda shitty to act like Dick was just being a standoffish brat here when Dick’s attitude is actually directly based on the last time he and Bruce interacted being when Bruce told him to get out and leave his keys.” LOLOL nooooo, that’s not allowed to stand, because see, the ONLY possible reason we could have for even CONSIDERING those stories in character or in continuity, is because of the aforementioned addiction to misery porn or else because we’re just trying to smear Bruce to make our own fave look better.

Never mind that another popular refrain for a lot of the people I’m talking about here is “you don’t know what people are thinking or why they like the things that they like” so, y’know. It is a tad irritating to see that double standard applied, like I mean. Just speaking personally, I’m a survivor of childhood physical and sexual abuse with a lifetime’s worth of C-PTSD and permanent estrangement from my abusive family, so like....those stories where Dick is abused by a figure he never thought would hurt him and now has to reconcile that with still loving and admiring that very same person and still wanting to be family.....like, hey guess what, those themes are part of why his character resonates for me in particular and so they’re kiiiiiinda key for me to explore for a lot of reasons. And given that this fandom looooooves to talk about some people writing dark shit to cope, I find it veeeeeery curious that people are so willing to shut the fuck up and say nothing about incest, rape and pedophilia fics even if they don’t like them themselves......but will still come out of the woodwork to condescend about there being absolutely no valid reason for anyone to ever engage with content where Bruce is abusive even just in one singular instance.....nah. Its literally just cuz of the misery porn addiction.

But see.....the thing at the heart of all this is the simple fact that this hypocrisy doesn’t exist just for the sake of hypocrisy. It exists because we actually all DO know how much power and influence fans can have in an interactive environment like fandom.

After all, the entire reason that Dick Grayson fans are so often posting informative panel-filled posts about what ACTUALLY happens in canon stories that are DIRECTLY cited in many meta, fanfics and headcanons, just.....in a totally backwards way that just so happens to fail to mention that its not intended to be an accurate depiction of the canon its definitely mentioning its in reference to....

The entire reason for this is because of how thoroughly fandom has crafted a specific narrative for Dick Grayson’s character that is based PURELY on their own characterization wants and needs and has very little to do with the actual canon of the character.

Its not a coincidence that so many fans just so happen to genuinely, truly believe that Dick was a grade A asshole to Jason while he was Robin, and there’s a wealth of canon out there somewhere to back it up. No, this happened because of fanFIC narratives where this is the case, and these catching on, and being encouraged by the initial writers of this trope and its fans and so on and so forth until it became the overarching fandom narrative and not only didn’t require any canon basis to be so....it barely ALLOWED for any talk of the contrary. Dick Grayson stans had to yell and churn out posts like that last one for YEARS to make a DENT in this fanon conviction, and do NOT even approach me about it being an issue of tone and ‘if we’d only asked politely’ because lol. No. We did. You can find the clear shift in the tone of my posts from when I first re-entered the fandom years ago to when I just got frustrated with the willful avoidance of WHY so many fans like myself are so annoyed by certain fandom convictions......and even then, it was about the hypocrisy. It was about how loudly other people crow about letting them have their headcanons while literally shouting down ANY post we made about wanting space to just have our CANON-canon.

Pro-tip: that thing where if you just ignore someone long enough on a certain point, they’ll inevitably start to get frustrated and then you can point to their tone as being the problem and claim that was the issue all along? Yeah. Its not slick. This fandom didn’t invent it. Its always very transparent, and very obnoxious. 

But the point is.....fandom absolutely has the ability to override canon narratives with their own version that’s then formative for new entrants to the fandom who never even BOTHER with the source material and just are here for the fic. And so its dishonest as FUCK for people to not only MAKE no distinction between what’s genuinely their interpretation of the canon and what’s their transformation of it, with INTENT......but to weaponize fandom’s aversion to content-criticism to shout down even ATTEMPTS to introduce discussion of the actual source material by claiming oh you’re just trying force your preferred narrative on everyone else. Aka that thing THEY’RE actually doing themselves by once attaining a fandom wide narrative they like, maintaining a stranglehold on it and doing their best to dissuade any narratives to the contrary staking a claim alongside that.

Because again, it all comes back to the fic. See, as a Dick Grayson fan, I’ve made no secret of the fact that I turn to fic for what I can’t get from canon...and its frustrating as hell to see writers that loudly talk of being BETTER than canon and “RIP to canon but my Batfam loves each other” in a lot of cases DELIBERATELY make Dick in particular look WORSE.....and then act like they have no idea what we’re talking about when we try and tell fans who take these narratives at face value that uh, they’re lacking some extremely relevant context and nuance. Or in some cases, outright facts.

And I will happily laugh loudly in the face of anyone who tries to claim that they don’t feel similarly about fics that characterize their own faves in ways they don’t like.

Yeah, try telling me that after years of some of you writing fics that specifically exclude all reference to the events of Nightwing #30 when talking about Dick’s death or Spyral.....while still including every in canon instance of people bagging on Dick for what he only did in canon because of Bruce’s abusive writing. There’s kinda a vested interest in keeping fandom relatively free of talk of Nightwing #30 then.....because weirdly, people who write about a DIFFERENT take that’s not hostile to Dick seem to end up putting the blame on Bruce for that situation. Bizarre, I know. People attributing blame to the character who was actually abusive in the canon and being cranky that the victim of said abuse is held up as the sacrificial lamb in everyone else’s fics? Whodathunkit.

(Also a point of irritation - it never had to be just one or the other. This is where the whole ‘maybe its YOU guys who were projecting all along when you said the only reason we could have for talking about Bruce’s abuse was an intent to smear the character’ bit is a thing. See, fun fact: if you were going to ignore an issue or two in order to completely flip the narrative of what really happened with Spyral and dominate the fandom landscape for a couple of years....it never had to be Nightwing #30 that was the ONLY issue you could leave out in order to not make Bruce look like an abusive asshat. Like, there was always another option right there in front of you. You could have instead chosen to also leave out Grayson #12, aka the one where Dick informs everyone else he’s alive.....then you could very easily just sliiiiiide in reference to Bruce and Dick quietly informing the whole family of his status and his mission while insisting on keeping it quiet for his safety. Voila. NOBODY has to be an asshole then, and the whole family gets to be in the know. But see, most people didn’t actually have a problem with someone being an asshole in that story. They just didn’t want it to be Bruce, and didn’t mind it being his actual victim. 

Even though, lol, just another FYI.....abuse victims having things flipped on them so it looks like they’re the true problem and their abusers are completely innocent is a HUGE thing that happens a lot in real life, so FYI about that FYI.....anyone who does say, gravitate towards Dick Grayson specifically because of how he’s impacted or might be impacted by abuse from his father, like.....is proooooobably not going to have a super fun time with diehard commitment to making this particular fictional character the true mastermind of his family’s misery and abusive instead of the abused. Weird huh.)

And round and round it goes. Where it ends, nobody knows.....because it doesn’t. fucking. stop. The number of ways in which fandom has willfully flipped the narrative so that Dick is the aggressor instead of the aggrieved is just absolutely ridiculous. This guy has been punched by every member of his family except Duke and Alfred, and somehow he’s the one characterized as uncomfy to be around because of how volatile he is. This guy is the only one who has actually been KICKED OUT of the manor, and somehow that gets glossed over and considered out of character while he apparently definitely did very much do this exact specific thing to Tim, I hear.

And like broken records, people squawk ‘let us have our interpretations/headcanons/etc’ any time we try and make a stink about how no, actually, that’s NOT HOW IT WENT....and at the EXACT SAME TIME....most of these exact same people show up on every post that uses ACTUAL information to make Bruce or Jason or Tim or whomever look like the actual problem in a story where they were actually problematic, like, the SECOND a post gets popular enough....to derail, to condescend, to shout it down with how its just a retcon or its out of character or its just a bad take or how fans with taste know better than to take it seriously.

And why do you care? Like, if we’re all supposed to just live and let live and everyone’s allowed their own interpretations, why this everpresent need to show up all the time with a superior, patronizing ‘oof, this is just not good’ the second one of YOUR faves is in the hotseat, while condescendingly boxing out any posts informing people of how no, actually, Dick and Kory’s breakup WAS linked to Mirage and Dick and Donna’s infamous fight WASN’T the way its commonly talked about and oh yeah there was brainwashing there too and etc, etc....see, when WE do that, we’re just overacting stans who can’t stand others not liking our fave. Instead of just....trying to correct misinformation so more fans can at least engage with the character from a starting point of zero instead of a negative integer. 

So why this hypocrisy? Oh yeah, because you don’t WANT the misinformation corrected. Because see, when the misinformation IS corrected, fic writers en masse....make different choices. And that’s why ever since more people started picking up the refrain of “well no actually Dick DIDN’T hate Jason, here’s the proof”.....there’s a lot more stories out there where...shockingly....Dick doesn’t hate Jason. Which bizarrely, does not really work well for the people who WANTED Dick to hate Jason and made a point to SHAPE the narrative to make him hate Jason.....because it wasn’t about that just being their interpretation, and it never was. Because the CHOICE to cut out Dick’s ‘justification for feeling slighted’ by being fired as Robin and pair that specifically WITH Dick resenting Jason for Bruce still making him Robin instead of Dick doing it....that has a narrative cause and effect within a lot of the fics that go with this. It gives Jason eternal underdog status that makes it easy to root for him while positioning someone specifically to blame for that underdog status and unfair playing field, and it also keeps focus off Bruce as the cause of any issues between his sons due to choices HE made, thus one singular figure is positioned as the obstacle to family unity....and that figure isn’t Bruce.

And no canon to the contrary will be acknowledged as legitimate.

Convenient huh?

Especially paired with the ‘thou shalt not con crit on another’s fic’ fandom commandment. Because when you can’t complain about any fanfic depictions whatsoever without immediately and inherently being cast as the rabble-rouser by default.....the ability to shape and dominate a specific fandom narrative becomes veeeeery key. After all, another popular fandom phrase is ‘we’re not the DC writers, complain to them about canon.’ But when there’s no canon complaint to be made to DC specifically, because its not canon we’re actually upset about, and we’re not ‘allowed’ to criticize fandom depictions because people are allowed to have their interpretations......all you have to do is stand your ground and insist that the fandom depictions of Dick are nothing BUT ‘interpretations’ and not acknowledge aaaaaaany of the places where you consciously make the decision to transform canon choices and behavior around him.....and voila. You’ve wrapped everything up in a neat little logic trap. Quite the fait accompli. There’s really no way for anyone to say or do anything ABOUT this little situation here without being ‘disruptive,’ ‘divisive’ and ‘having a negative impact on fandom harmony.’

Its just always gonna be a little weird to me, how much your positivity culture looks a lot like plausible deniability culture instead.

But whatever. That’s just a me problem I guess. Definitely not something anyone else in fandom has anything to do with. Just like they have nothing to do with derailments or condescension or counter arguments to so many of the canon-based Dick Grayson posts I make, and this is also all my doing...wait...hang on. I think I got mixed up again somewhere. Dang it.

[ketchupqueenboiiii]

Teen Titans

A/N: Raven, Damian, BB, and Mari are 15-16. Dick, Victor, and Kori are late twenties. Jaime is 17ish. One scene inspired by I Would Like One Family Please, by Celestial_Void_the_3rd on AO3

@maribat-2k20

Marinette and Damian never hid anything from each other. There was never a true reason to. They grew up together, they were developed in incubators next to each other, they received training along with each other. Their chambers were separated by a curtain. They were each other's most trusted confidant.  

Even after they left the League of Assassins, they stuck together. He knew about her being polysexual and her about his desire to try crossdressing. But apparently, that's still not everything.

Marinette was just plainly walking in down a hallway. It was almost dinner time and she wanted to try out a new vegan macaron recipe so they could have it for dessert. She had her freshly printed instructions in hand, still warm from the printer. She was in full chef mode. When she saw it.

Damian, her brother; her twin; her best friend, in full lip-lock with, her crush, Raven.

Not that either know about the last part. Mari had feelings for Raven since they were fourteen and she hadn't acted on them other than having especially rosy cheeks around the empath. You would think she'd pick up on these feeling quickly.

But, alas, not even her brother knew. She couldn't bring herself to say it. Maybe it was her subconscious keeping her from embarrassing herself even further.

The girl slowly retreats, banking on the assumption her brother is too occupied to be aware. Once she was safely out of range, she allowed her self to feel. She darted to her room to change while texting Kori that she was going to be late to dinner. Marinette was on autopilot mode from there on.

She didn't really wake up until she found herself on the roof of Unbe-leaf-able, a vegan restaurant/café they frequent in and out of costume. One of the only places that can really pull off cauliflower crust pizza, too.

She sits on the ledge of a nearby building, unnoticed due to the darkening night and the height of the establishment. Starring down at her unopened take out box, she notices it has several droplets of clear liquid on it. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion as she raises her hand to tell if its raining. When she determines that it's not, her face grimaces in more confusion.

That's when she notices her face feel wet too. If her hand can't feel the rain why can her-

Oh.

She's crying.

It's been sometime since that happened. She hadn't shed tears since the league, and even then those weren't tears of genuine emotion.  It happened during one of their first missions, they were in an American mall trying to find and kidnap the daughter of an ex-client. He had been late on his payment and they decided to speed up the process.

The ex-client anticipated they'd be targeting him, rightfully so. So he hired a squad of bodyguards for his daughter.

The mission wasn't going very well, they'd been spotted and the guards knew who to look for. After regrouping at the food court, Talia and Damian left to get food, leaving Mari alone at their table. One of the bodyguards must have seen this as an opportunity, and made his way over to her.

Mari was small as a child, she had the face of pure innocence and good. So she was taught how to use that. Improvising, her expression morphed to one of fear, and she held tightly to her bright pink bag; leading any already suspicious onlookers to rise from their chairs.

The guy's ego must have been bigger than him since he didn't seem to falter from their looks. Or maybe he didn't even notice, didn't matter to Mari. He grabbed her arm and she squeaked in faux terror. She had him right were she needed.

"Stranger Danger! I-I don't know him, help-" She wept, forcing herself to tears before he slammed his hand over her mouth seconds too late. This got the attention of almost everyone in the food court, other parents already half way to them. His eyes bulged and he quickly let go trying to calm the situation. But the bystanders had seen enough, and he was on the ground in seconds.

The commotion caught the attention of his fellow guards and they rushed over to the scene.

"Sweetie, it's okay now, the bad man can't hurt you. Do you know where your parents are?" A blonde haired lady asked, kneeling down to her. She wore a peacock feather-inspired barrette and a pale violet dress.

"M-my mama, she, she and my brother went, went, went to go get food." She stuttered as she discreetly tapped a transmitter on her bag strap, informing Talia that the coast was clear to get the daughter.

"Okay, do you want to sit with me and my family while you wait? It's right over there, so when your mama comes back she won't have to look far." The lady said, pointing to a table with three other people. A pale blonde man, a blonde boy who's hair looked more like the lady's, a brown haired man with grey side burns, and a dark haired women with a red streak in her hair. Her hair looked more like Mari's real hair. They must be the lady's family.

But instead of answering her question, Mari corrected her, "It's 'my family and me' not  'me and my family'."

The lady lets out a hearty laugh, "Yes, I suppose it is. You remind me of my husband." She smiles at the girl. "So, would you like to sit with my family for a while?"

She tilted her head, pretending to consider it while really looking over to her mother, who now stands just a few feet away from the were the daughter was. Her eyes held question, should she go; should she not.

Talia noticed her gaze and her question, nodding to her daughter. Mari could have sworn she saw a rare look of pride on Talia, before her face contorted to a blank stare.

"Okay." She answered the blonde lady, taking her open hand.

As she sat at the end of the table, she was instantly hit with the questions of the blonde boy, "Hi, who are you? Are you okay? What's your name?" He lent over the table to talk.

"Oh my, I forgot to introduce my self. I'm sorry, dear," she apologized, "My name is Emily, that's Gabriel; my husband, that's Natalie; our personal assistant-slash-family friend, that's Adrien; our son, and that's Elliot or as Adrien calls him; Gorilla. He's his bodyguard." Mari nods, shyly looking at each of them. "So what's your name, sweetie?"

The boy had been staring at her since she got to their table, he looked at her patiently, waiting for her answer.

"Bridgette."

Mari had always liked undercover missions, nothing was ever real. She could be anyone and do what ever without worrying about meeting them again. She once spent a year in Paris, undercover as Maria, she even saw the same boy from missions ago and he didn't recognize her at all. She faked her death once they had successfully gotten rid of the ambassador's daughter.

Oh, what Mari wouldn't give for this to all be fake. For her to be able to forget the kiss, to forget everyone in the tower and move on to the next mission. Maybe some place in the Caribbean-

"Hey." She jumped at the new voice, but didn't reach for a weapon. It was a familiar voice. Maybe even a trusted one.

"Hey, Gar," she didn't turn around, couldn't. Even after months of brattiness, she had earned his respect. Showing the weakness of tears would effectively erase any progress she had. Hastily, she wiped her face with the napkin that came with her meal, attempting to calm herself down to look presentable. "What are you doing here?" She asked.

"Kori told us you were eating out. I volunteered to check it out," He answered before laughing bitterly, "Damian gave me the stink eye, though. Like he's got any place to judge." He muttered the last part. "Can I sit with you, Mars?"

"No." She said, sounding all like the stuck up heiress she was.

"Please." He stretched out the vowel. Mari could hear the pout in his voice, and saw it on him in his dog form. She sighed as turned to lean against the border of the building. There was a three-foot wall on the roof, probably to keep anyone on it from falling. It didn't matter to Mari or Gar, both had fallen from farther and survived.

She nodded mutely for him to go over to her. If she counted out Damian, the closest Titan to her would be Gar.

They sat like that for a while, changing position to one more comfortable every now and then. By the time Mari spoke up, she was leaning on his shoulder with his arm around her waist. It was getting really dark and they hadn't touched the food she order yet.

"So, you saw the kiss?" Mari whispered. She noticed his bitterness towards her brother, normally she would have defended him but she let it slide this time.

"Yeah," Gar whispered back, "What's got you so down, Mars?"

She hesitated, he didn't know. He didn't have to know, she could make up a lie and ignore her feelings. Bury them down, just like she did in the league. But he was trustworthy, she knew that, "Same as you." She gulped nervously.

Instead of acting on his surprise, he laughs, "Oh man, the irony. Three roomies liking the same girl? Classic." But then he sobers down and leans his head back on hers, and mumbles, "Sucks for the two sobs who don't get the girl, amiright?"

She lets herself laugh cry, "Oh yeah, sucks a lot," her shoulders shake as she laughs, " 'specially when the one who gets the girl is your brother."

"Mhm," he hums in agreement, "Never seen you so distraught, Mars, is it really all about the kiss? Or is it because we couldn't have our biweekly Ultimate Mecha Strike Five tournament yesterday?" He smirked playfully. One of the best things about Gar was that he always made it clear you didn't have to answer his questions, he gave easy outs.

Yeah, would be the answer to anyone other than him, he gave her an excuse not to answer, why doesn't she use it, It just, really threw me off. It's okay though, I'll get over it in a week.

"No." She responded. She doesn't use the easy out. She doesn't need it, "I. I, I guess I always expected it. The part were only one of us can have something, not the kiss its self," she corrected, "did not expect that. We always knew that someday, it would come down to one. Only one of us could ascend to Demon's Head. We knew, they knew, Mother knew. We spent our lives preparing for it. Yet this all feels so surreal."

Not knowing anything to say to comfort his friend, Gar simply held her in a tighter squeeze.

After a few more minutes in their position, he asked, "So... We gonna start eating or is the food just meant to go cold?"

She smiled and bummed their legs, "You dumbass."

"It's a valid question!"

[softscummymammon]

©Stress©

Inspired by:: @zed-sabre

And there post //here//...

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚❃.✮:→⋇⋆✦⋆⋇←:✮.❃˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Jason wasn't in the best condition, he knew it. Well, after being beaten by the Joker, killed by a bomb, woken up in his grave, crawled out of his tomb, and thrown into the Lazarus Pit to be used as a weapon against the man that replaced him, he was just fuckin dandy. Thanks for asking.

He was stressed, but didn't do anything to help. Headaches frequented him, even though it was a phantom reminder of the times Joker used his skull as a drum. The Lazarus pit made him, angry, blood thirsty, and he hated the feeling. His immune system was shit, even after the Lazarus pit dip, so heat fevers and colds were almost a constant. But, he pulled through. He was a bat, and he'd been to hell and back, nothing would keep him down.

So, the white strands of hair was a surprise to him. To be honest, nothing should really surprise him anymore, but the universe always seems to find a way. It first started out by a white patch of hair along the hairline of his forehead. He swore, wondering why he was looking like an old man faster than the actual old man in this dysfunctional pigpen they call a family.

But, it didn't spread like normal grey hairs. To add to that, his hair wasn't grey, it was pure white. Looking in the mirror, his dull eyes stared at the white patch of hair in mild discomfort.

Jason didn't know why he was so off set about this, it was just another way of showing him that he was the black sheep of the family. Bruce tended to have a running theme going on with children; black hair, blue eyes, orphan. And by being Red Hood, a mob boss that distributed drugs and killed people, he was even more caste out. The demon brat always liked to point that out.

It happened a few days ago. The bats had spent a whole night recapturing convicts that escaped in the mass Arkham breakout. He had been fighting Killer Croc in the sewers for almost 2 hours. He smelled like shit, he felt like shit, and really, he was sick of all this shit!

Alfred demanded he take a shower immediately, or he would be forced to sit in the cave until the stink wore off. He'd rather take a shower that sounded really good right now than miss out on Alfred's tea and cookies.

He timidly stripped his suit off, piece by piece. He wasn't uncomfortable with his body, per se, but he knew Dick and Bruce were. Jason couldn't take his gloves out without Dick looking sick and Bruce having that expression like he'd rather be in a whole other dimension.

For good reason, he went to the locker rooms and set his stuff aside before wrapping a towel around his waist and walking into the showers. The sound of running water told him it was already pre-occupied, but the sound of a voice calling his name made him stop.

Tim's muffled voice cane from the shower room, " Come on in, I'm almost done and the water's still hot. "

Sighing, Jason hesitantly grabbed the sliding door and opened it. He caught Tim sliding on some sweatpants and most likely one of Dick's hoodies. Tim turned and waved, a tired face giving away nothing but exhibition. Jason nodded and stepped over to one of the showers to the side. Turning a shoulder towards Tim, he made sure to keep the squirt in peripheral.

What he didn't expect, was a slight touch to his shoulder after he turned on the water. Quickly grabbing the wrist and spinning, he held the idiot's wrist in a lock before gasping when he saw Tim gritting his teeth and holding his wrist.

Jason grunted and let go of Tim, " How much of an idiot do you have to be to do that, Replacement? "

Tim shook his hand but soildered on, " I wasn't gonna do anything-" Jason made a face that clearly showed his disbelief, "but there was nothing on your file saying you have vitiligo. "

Jason rose an eyebrow, " Because what's the use of putting something in a file that's not there? Seriously Tim, vitiligo? You sniffing the steam in here or are you just that sleep deprived? "

Tim made an incoherent noise, " Wha- I'm not doing drugs if that's what you're asking, I got four hours of sleep last night actually, and go ask anyone else. They'll see exactly what I'm seeing Jason. I wouldn't lie to you about this. "

Jason grunted and turned away towards the running water of his shower, " Mind your own business, Tweedle Dee. " Tim sighed, but made his way out of the room. Getting into the shower, Jason let out a sigh and let his shoulders droop. Closing his eyes, he thought over what Tim had said. Something about vitiligo, but, if he ever had it, why hadn't he seen it? He'd never seen it on his body before.

Sighing heavily, he put that thought on the back burner for now and set on scrubbing the sewage out of his hair. Once he was done, and decided he smelled marginally better, he got out of the shower and put on the clothes he picked out for himself.

Once he was covered, he breathed slightly easier. Shutting the water, he made his way out of the showers and towards the main center of the cave. What he didn't like, was that fact that it felt like he was walking into the wrong classroom at school.

You ever get that feeling? Walking into the wrong classroom, and everyone stares at you? Yeah, that's what he's feeling right now, and he's late. Tim at least has the balls to look sheepish. Bruce and the others however, are staring right at him. It makes his skin crawl.

Dick slides up to him with faux cheer, " Hey Littlewing, how was the shower? You smell better at least. " Jason growled, " Thanks, Dickweed. I used that new shampoo. "

Dick put a hand dramatically over his heart and hung off of him, " You wound me so, Jason. How could you? " Jason shrugged him off and felt a little satisfaction when he heard the telltale thud of Dick's body hitting the stone floor, “ Very easily, actually. " He turned to Bruce and Tim, " Alright, what did the tattletale tell you this time? "

Tim raised his hands, " I was only asking if he had ever seen the patches of skin I saw-" Jason glared and Tim shrunk away, " Again, not your fucking business, Replacement. " Tim had the gall to shrug, " I'm a Robin, staying out of people's business' is my Kryptonite. "

Jason growled but was stopped when a heavy hand was placed on his head. He snapped up, watching carefully as Bruce, not the Bat, looked at him curiously. Taking in everything about Jason's appearance and reactions. Jason felt like he was under a microscope, and he didn't like it at all.

Before he could pull away, Bruce laced his fingers through Jason's hair and gently rubbed some of the white strands between his fingers. Jason blue screened. Frozen as Bruce played with his hair. Don't laugh at him, he'd hasn't gotten this close to affection from the Old Man in what feels like forever.

Whatever spell was cast over the cave was broken when Bruce titled his head and pressed a soft, almost feather light kiss to his hair. Jason gaped in awe as Bruce leaned back to look him in the eye. He couldn't stop the tears the spilled past his defenses. His father wiped them away with a thumb, his hand had moved from his hair to his cheek.

Bruce's eyes widened and he went to take his hand back but Jason quickly grabbed his hand and held it there against his skin, "Don't you dare fuckin start what you can't finish, Old Man. " Bruce chuckled, but sighed heavily, as if the world sat on his shoulders. Knowing Bruce's self destructive tendencies, the old man probably felt like it too.

Bruce sighed, " I know you hate me, Jason. But son, don't leave us out on anything that could eventually hurt you. " Jason, once again, froze, " You think I hate you? " Bruce rose a brow, " Don't you? Everything I've done to you... " Jason sighed and shook his head. He couldn't explain it, but his tongue felt like cotton in his mouth. Without saying what he was trying to show, he took Bruce's hand and leaned further into it.

Grabbing the strap of shirt over the patch of skin Tim had mentioned, he pulled it back for Bruce to see. His father's eyes snapped to that spot, and his meticulous gaze scanned over the skin. His other hand came up to trace part of the skin where it abruptly changed into a paler tone.

Jason could see the change into skin in the reflection of Bruce's eyes, and wondered how he missed such a change. It felt kind of awkward; his father tracing his skin with light fingers while his siblings watched from afar. The tense air still and suffocating while Bruce analyzed.

With a heavy sigh, Bruce looked to the same patch of skin that seemed to appear on his forehead too, by Tim's words, not his own. The same look washed over Bruce's eyes before he completely let go. Jason cursed himself for wanting the warmth back. But before he could complain, Bruce turned to the Batcomputer and searched up the skin condition Vitiligo.

By now Jason had already accepted his fate, so he watched as Bruce pulled up pictures and turned to look at Jason again. A deep hum snapped the tense air like a coil spring and Jason was suddenly bombarded with his most clingy siblings hugging his tightly.

Dick was pouty that Jason had dumped him off earlier while Steph was telling him how cool he would look. None of them could compare though, to the warmth in Bruce's eyes as they locked gazes. Jason wondered if Bruce always had that look in his eye, or was the pit covering it up for the longest time.

That thought brought tears to his eyes, and Dick, Steph, and even Tim who was most likely pulled into the hug held him tighter. Bruce too even set his hand over Jason's cheek. Jason sighed heavily and leaned into the touch of his family, perhaps he could get used to this.

»»————>»»——⍟——««<————««

[vintagedolan]

hiraeth: initial concept

*this is a concept train!! in short, that means you all send in asks and tell me what you wanna see! so feel free to send me in whatever you want to see happen (it would be awesome if you guys send them kinda in order of plot like not jumping way ahead or anything if you know what I mean hehe. anyways, hope you enjoy, and here is my askbox for concepts!! love yah!*

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

1: The Valley Isle

“What makes Hawaiian shaved ice Hawaiian? Isn’t it just ice and syrup?”

“Well, every morning we go out and collect water from the waterfall in our backyard, and then we freeze it into ice cubes shaped like the islands, and then we shave each one special into our various menu sizes.”

“Really?!”

“No. Your total is $5.47.”

Koa looked up from the syrup station, reaching over and smacking Kahua’s arm.

“Dude. Do you want to get fired?” She kept her voice low so it didn’t travel past the window.

He just laughed and grabbed the banana syrup, finishing off the mound of ice and sticking a spoon in the side before passing it out the window to the woman who’d asked the question. 

“Yes. My master plan is to get in trouble, blame it on you, get it put on your permanent record so you lose all your future jobs and have to stay here with me forever.” 

“You act like you aren’t going to also be in LA in literally three months.”

“And you act like you aren’t leaving me here on this rock, alone, for three months,” Kahua countered, turning to switch out the withering ice block from the machine. 

Koa looked out over the rainbow of syrups, taking in the view.

Her and Kahua had been calling Maui a rock for years - since third grade, to be precise. She didn’t say it often, and especially not to any tourists who were coming to visit. To them, Maui was paradise. Tropical, perfect weather, perfect beaches. Koa could see it. She understood the allure. But when she thought of her paradise, it came in the shape of a bustling city, of opportunities and new faces and places. 

LA.

Kahua called it the haole’s dream. The white girl’s dream. Didn’t matter how many times he complained about being on the same island his whole life, he never really wanted to leave it. The fact that Koa wanted to was seen as borderline criminal by half her ohana, but she pushed their comments and insults aside.

There were only two opinions that she really cared about anyways. 

First was Nahele; her older brother. She didn’t have to ask him what he thought - he’d moved to Texas as soon as he could, started up a food truck in Austin, named it 808 GRINDZ and brought every hawaiian cooking method he knew along with him. He’d been making a life for himself ever since then, and he was ecstatic when Koa told him she was moving. The thought of having family on the mainland, even halfway across the country, was comforting enough.

But the most important one? That was Amosa. 

Amosa, who called her when he knew she’d be walking to her car after she clocked out.

“Hi Dad.”

“Kaikamahine, my girl. How was your shift?”

“Busy, but it was fine. They gave me a card for a free small everyday that you can have, but you gotta get the sugar free syrup when you use it.”

“Yeah yeah,” he laughed. Even over the phone, Koa could hear the waves in the background, and she knew where he was before he said it. “Come to the dock.”

“Did you book another tour?” She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice.

“Come to the dock,” he said, his quiet way of saying no. “I’ll see you soon. Aloha wau iā 'oe.”

“Love you too.”

The drive to the boat dock was short, and the parking lot was busy as ever. Koa passed the bigger boats, with their names in fancy script screen printed on the side. Their buoys and extra snorkel gear, the bars nestled in the middle of the deck, an extra incentive for the tourists to book with them. Everyone loves a mai tai after all.

The Honu Nai sat at her spot on the dock, the farthest to the left. She had three years on any other snorkel boat out there. Her bow was worn, paint sanded off by the salt and sun over time and travel through the waves. But the little drawing of the smiling turtle still shone through on the side, despite the fact that Koa had painted it almost 10 years ago. 

Over the edge, Koa could see her father. He was cleaning, like usual, organizing all of the extra gear that he had on the boat. The kids section was scarce again, all the smaller sized wetsuits, snorkels and fins barely taking up a rack. Koa knew why - if there was ever a kid on his snorkel tour who couldn’t afford their own gear, he’d ‘lend’ it to them. Every kid deserves to see the underwater world, he would say. It changes you, shows you what life is really about.

Koa had been in the ocean since before she could walk. If she wasn’t where she was supposed to be, she was one of two places; either diving under a wave somewhere, or writing in her notebook. Or, one of her notebooks at least. 

“No book today?” He asked when she jumped aboard.

“Already packed them up.”

Amosa couldn’t think about the suitcases in her room without the tears starting to form. He blinked them away and looked out to the sea of blue. 

“Did you pack your snorkel gear?”

“Dad. You know I’m not going to see shit in the ocean in California,” she sighed, moving over to him and putting an arm around him. 

“I know, I know. They have sea lions I’ve heard. Maybe they’ll be friendly.”

“I’ve heard they stink.” She laid her head on his shoulder gently, closing her eyes when he kissed her head.

“Well. We have 5 hours until you have to get to the airport, and I say that’s just enough time for one more run, hmmm?”

Koa didn’t want to. She couldn’t think of many things worse than having salt all over her skin for a 6 hour plane ride. But the excitement in his eyes was irresistible, so she simply nodded and offered him a smile, letting go so he could get them on their way out to the reef. 

She sat on the bow as they headed out to sea, closed her eyes and soaked in the spray off the waves. Her dad laughed when they hit a particularly big one, cutting through the crest so much that it splashed up onto the deck. He used to do it on purpose when she was a little girl just to hear her giggle and have her running back to him. 

They made it to their favorite place quickly, and Koa didn’t hesitate to put her mask on and get to work. She took the line and dove over the side, tying it to the anchor hook under the water before coming back up. Amosa dropped the ladder for her on the back, but she didn’t need it. She was watching the reef. 

Moorish Idols. That’s what she wanted to see. They were second only to green sea turtles - honu in Hawaiian. But they were the most beautiful fish, with their delicate top fin that tapered off to a tail. She was always excited to find one and show the kids on tours. All she had to say was look for Gill from Finding Nemo and they were able to spot them. She floated for a while, watching the fish dart around, even spotting a small reef shark about 15 yards to the right before she decided to climb back in to see her dad. 

He passed her a towel and smiled at her as she sat down. All he could do was look at her for a moment, taking her in. His baby girl, on the boat she’d practically grown up in for the last time in a while.

He put on his brave face, and forced his biggest smile. “You ready to go out there?”

Koa sighed. 

“I don’t know how to tell.” 

“You’ll do great. You’re capable, and it won’t be long until you’re writing your own books instead of writing for these… whatever boys.”

“Dolan. Their names are Ethan and Grayson Dolan.” 

“Well, like I said. Soon it’ll be your stories out there instead of someone else’s, with your name instead of theirs.” He said it with such certainty that she couldn’t help but believe him. Maybe it was the salt water left over in her eyes, or the glare of the sun off the ocean, but she began to tear up. 

“Thanks for always supporting me dad. It means the world. I’m sorry I have to go so far away, I wish I could stay.” It was true - she just needed the money from the Dolan’s to get herself started, and then she’d come back, help her father.

Amosa smiled. 

“Kaikamahine, it’s just an ocean between us.” He reached out for her cheek. “And we know the ocean, don’t we.”

“She’s an old friend,” Koa said, her heart tight in her chest. 

“Exactly. Now c’mon, let’s get you home and on your way.”

Across the ocean and 3 hour time change, Grayson Dolan was pacing. 

“It’s gonna be fine.” Ethan said.

“Shut the fuck up Ethan,” Grayson said. 

That was the extent of most of their conversations over the last three days. Actually, that’s how all of them had been since Ethan had signed a deal with their agent for a ghostwritten book about their lives.

“It’ll get more people connected to us, the right people-”

“Has it ever fucking occurred to you that I’m tired of that shit? That I’m tired of people prying into my fucking life? What if I don’t wanna connect with anyone else, what if I just wanna be left the fuck alone? But no, now we’re gonna have some fucking stranger asking us a million fucking questions and digging for information in my own fucking house where I just wanna exist.”

Ethan didn’t have an answer for that. He’d fucked up, and he knew it. But he also knew that he signed a contract, and there was no backing out of it now. Grayson rubbed his hand over his eyes.

“When does the writer get here?”

“She flies in tonight.”

“Fucking fantasic. Can’t wait.” 

With that, Grayson walked back to his room, leaving his twin alone in the living room with his hands in his pockets.

[edenmemes]

game of thrones (S1) rp starters

❝ i’ve never seen a thing like this, not ever in my life. ❞ ❝ do the dead frighten you? ❞ ❝ all these years and i still feel like an outsider when i come here. ❞ ❝ whatever it did to them it can do it to us. they even killed the children. ❞ ❝ relax your bow arm. ❞ ❝ oh, wait. i just realised...i don’t care. ❞ ❝ to stand at a crossroads where turning left means loyalty to a friend, turning right, loyalty to the realm. ❞ ❝ my crimes and sins are beyond counting. ❞ ❝ does loyalty mean nothing to you? ❞ ❝ i fear i may have behaved monstrously these past few weeks. ❞ ❝ some doors close forever... others open in the most unexpected places. ❞ ❝ sometimes i worry you’re too smart for your own good. ❞ ❝ the occassional kindness will spare you all sorts of trouble down the road. ❞ ❝ i don’t know. i don’t remember. everything happened so fast. i didn’t see. ❞ ❝ everything’s better with some wine in the belly. ❞ ❝ i’m not particularly good at violence, but i’m good at convincing others to do violence for me. ❞      ❝ gold wins wars. not soldiers. ❞ ❝ a mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone. ❞ ❝ there’s a war coming. i don’t know when, i don’t know who we’ll be fighting, but it’s coming. ❞ ❝ you will dishonor yourself forever if you do this. ❞ ❝ you know I had half my guard out searching for you? ❞ ❝ you're just a soldier, aren't you? you take your orders and you carry on. ❞ ❝ oh my sweet summer child, what do you know about fear? ❞ ❝ everyone who isn’t us is an enemy. ❞ ❝ would you be so good as to untie me? ❞ ❝ the next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands. ❞ ❝ come stand by the fire. it’s warmer. ❞ ❝ what do you pray for? ❞ ❝ i’ve made many mistakes in my life, but that wasn’t one of them. ❞ ❝ you can't change him. you can't help him. he'll do what he wants, which is all he's ever done. you'll try your best to pick up the pieces. ❞ ❝ the common people pray for rain, health and a summer that never ends. they don't care what games the high lords play. ❞ ❝ you’re a warrior like your father. ❞ ❝ i'm used to men who could chew that boy up and pick their teeth with his bones. ❞ ❝ i need you to become the person you were always meant to be. not next year. not tomorrow. now. ❞ ❝ there’s things that sleep at day and hunt at night. ❞ ❝ you’re in pain. ❞ ❝ when you play the game of thrones, you win or you die. ❞ ❝ go as far away as you can, with as many men as you can. ❞ ❝ is that what you tell yourself at night? that you’re a servant of justice? ❞ ❝ very handsome armor. not a scratch on it. ❞ ❝ do i frighten you? ❞ ❝ rhe lion doesn’t concern himself with the opinions of sheep. ❞ ❝ are you going to say something clever? go on, say something clever. ❞ ❝ there is only one thing we say to death - ‘not today’. ❞ ❝ have you lost your mind? what if you missed? ❞ ❝ it’s a gift. i had it made for you. ❞ ❝ distrusting me was the wisest thing you’ve done. ❞ ❝ how do you feel? you still don’t remember anything? ❞ ❝ you’re a smart person. you don’t believe that nonsense. ❞ ❝ you’re too hard on yourself. always have been. ❞ ❝ have you ever seen a dragon? ❞ ❝ you’re all alone in the deep dark woods. ❞ ❝ my family is rich. we have gold, lots of gold. i’m prepared to give you lots of gold. ❞ ❝ i felt something for you once, you know? ❞ ❝ there is a spell. some would say death is cleaner. ❞ ❝ it's a neat little trick you do, you move your lips and your father's voice comes out. ❞ ❝ i’m glad i could do something to make you happy. ❞ ❝ i could work at fighting all day, every day, and still never be as good as you. ❞ ❝ all i ever hear is how not tough i am. how i squirm at the sight of blood. ❞ ❝ i thought you were a better person. ❞ ❝ do you think it’s honor that’s keeping the peace? it’s fear! fear and blood. ❞ ❝ i pray for home too. ❞ ❝ never forget what you are. the rest of the world will not. wear it like armor. then it can never be used against you. ❞ ❝ when they write the history of my reign, they will say it began today. ❞ ❝ in my dreams, i kill him every night. ❞ ❝ we were meant to rule together. ❞ ❝ why haven’t i seen you? where have you been? ❞ ❝ the man who passes the sentence should swing the sword. ❞ ❝ the law is law. ❞ ❝ we never had the chance to be young. ❞ ❝ i’m going to miss you. ❞ ❝ we were at war. none of us knew if we were going back home again. ❞ ❝ your absence has already been noted. ❞ ❝ you need to drink...and eat. ❞ ❝ i hope to repay your kindness someday. ❞ ❝ no one to tell me ‘no’ but you. only you. ❞ ❝ it stinks. it stinks like death. ❞ ❝ if i die, weep for me. ❞ ❝ someone with great ambition and no morals...i wouldn’t bet against you. ❞ ❝ there are no men like me. only me. ❞ ❝ you look lovely tonight. ❞ ❝ all good swords have names, you know. ❞ ❝ it’s not going to get any easier, you know? you’ll have to defend yourself. ❞ ❝ it’s a strange thing, the first time you cut a man. ❞ ❝ it’s hard for them to bow without heads. ❞ ❝ i swear to you that those who harm you will die screaming. ❞ ❝ i bet you’ve never killed anyone. ❞ ❝ death is so final whereas life...life is full of possibilities. ❞ ❝ there are times you make me wonder whose side you’re on. ❞ ❝ i’ll make sure you don’t look so fucking grim all the time. ❞ ❝ you’re a loyal friend. you hear me? a loyal friend. the last one i’ve got. ❞ ❝ did you have to bury her in a place like this? she should be on a hill somewhere with the sun and the clouds above her. ❞ ❝ don’t leave me alone with these people. ❞ ❝ oh, i do love a violent woman. ❞ ❝ it’s not your screams i want. only your life. ❞ ❝ i’ll kill them all. every one of them. i’ll kill them all. ❞ ❝ don’t talk about my mother or father ever, or i’ll carve your eyes from your head. ❞ ❝ every hurt is a lesson and every lesson makes you better. ❞ ❝ i’m a constant disappointment to my father and i’ve learned to deal with it. ❞ ❝ you have a quick temper and a slow mind. ❞ ❝ you broke my nose, bastard! ❞ ❝ i think you should wear your armor tonight. ❞ ❝ it makes me hurt to see you bleed. ❞ ❝ my tongue lied. my eyes shouted the truth. ❞ ❝ all men are made of water, do you know this? if you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die. ❞ ❝ i’m not going to tell you to stay or go. you must make that choice yourself. ❞ ❝ i grew up with soldiers. i learned how to die a long time ago. ❞ ❝ i don’t know what you want. i’ve given up trying to guess. ❞ ❝ you dare give commands to me? to me? ❞ ❝ who was your first kill, not counting old men? ❞ ❝ i’m looking at you. you’ve got an interesting face. a very distinctive face. ❞ ❝ you do have a choice. and you’ve made it. ❞ ❝ moon of my life, are you hurt? ❞ ❝ if the day ever comes where you’re tempted to sell me out, remember this: whatever their price, i’ll beat it. ❞ ❝ your sweet words have moved me. ❞ ❝ i did warn you not to trust me. ❞ ❝ when you look at me do you see a hero? ❞ ❝ take me to your crypt. i want to pay my respects. ❞      ❝ you always look at your feet before you lie. ❞ ❝ it’s your gods with all the rules. ❞ ❝ could you sing me a song? i’d like to hear a song. ❞ ❝ you worry too much. it’s starting to show. ❞ ❝ i take orders from your father, not you. ❞ ❝ you at a feast - it’s like a bear in a trap. ❞ ❝ if you can get word to my family, tell them i’m no coward. ❞ ❝ you understand why i did it? do you understand why i had to kill him? ❞

[bisexualbuck]

My 911 Fic Writing Masterlist

(Last edited May 28th 2021)

I’ve finally decided to do a masterpost of all my writing for the show 911 which is the fandom I’ve written the most for. There are 33 fics in this post, holy crap.

(If anyone is interested, I’ve also written for Star Trek AOS, Leverage, the MCU, among many other fandoms.)

As a general note, I’ll say most of my fics have Buddie elements and I also try to have at least one Firefam moment. Also, please check each fic’s warnings.

This is going to be long so most of it will be under a read more.

Last thing, please! If you like any of these stories, please consider leaving a comment and reblogging this post.

Multi Chapter

Reaching In The Dark | 38.7k

It all started innocent enough but Buck can no longer deny it.

He has a stalker.

Someone so obsessed with him that they would spend hours and hours following him, unnoticed, taking pictures of him, taking notes of his habits.

But life has been so good lately, and Buck doesn’t want to worry anyone. So he tells no one about it, he can deal with it on his own.

Leave My Body | 23k

"Do you want to see how it could have been? You are so sure you've been a burden on everyone you've ever met, but I can show you the truth."

.

Buck dies but it's not the end.

(Inspired by the movie It's a Wonderful Life)

Encore | 20.1k

“I’m going insane.”

“Did something happen?”

A dark, bitter laugh bubbles out of Buck – a mockery of joy.

“Everything keeps happening, and it’s still the same fucking day. It’s always the same and every time it’s different and I can’t do anything.”

.

Or

Buck keeps reliving the same day, over and over again.

Hurt/Comfort

Death, Be Not Proud | 10.1k

There are moments barge loudly into your life and, even as you’re going through them, you know they will change everything.

There are other moments that happen quietly, unnoticed, and it’s only afterwards that you know, looking back, that they have changed your life.

When the 118 is called to a decrepit house, they don’t think much of it.

Yet this will change their lives forever.

Silent Storm | 4.4k

Buck wakes up in the hospital.

Except he can't move. He can't speak.

But he can hear everything.

Dying Of The Light | 4.1k

If Purgatory was a place on Earth, it would be a hospital waiting room.

Or

Buck is in a coma, brain-dead - or so that's what the doctors say anyway.

(Silent Storm told from the Firefam's POV)

No Kingdom To Come | 8k

Days pass, then weeks that soon turn into months. Buck doesn’t call, he doesn’t text.

They don’t even know if he is still alive.

Maddie files a missing person’s report. Athena checks for any mention of his name anywhere in the country.

Nothing pops up, no one calls.

Buck is gone.

The Courage To Heal | 1.4k

He remembers her perfume. Thick, flowery – it makes him retch.

Why does he remember her perfume? Every time he smells anything like it, he wants to throw up, he wants to rush in the shower and try to wash away the stink of it.

Why can’t he move on?

He’s had sex with countless people over the years, especially back in his Buck 1.0 days, so why does that encounter remain? Why does it make him sick?

Why does he feel so ashamed?

.

Buck opens up about Dr Wells, the therapist from season 1.

The Loneliness Never Left Me | 2k

“Buck is afraid he is gonna end up like Red, without friends, without family. He thinks the job is the only thing he’ll ever have and that he’ll always be alone.”

Silence falls around them, heavy and suffocating.

“We need to show him that he’s got us."

“Not show him,” Chim says. “Tell him.”

Forever Day | 2k

The man pulls a gun out.

He aims it at Buck’s head.

“If you take another step I will blast your brains on the ground."

Hollow | ~300

Bobby on the day of his late wife and kids’ deaths, with Athena by his side.

Those Days | ~600

A look into Eddie and Christopher having a bad day made better by having each other.

Little Hope | ~500

A moment of support between two friends, Karen and Eddie, as Hen lays unconscious in a hospital bed.

Firefam Feels

Alone Again | 1.2k

Post S04E04

After standing up for himself to his parents, Buck feels hollow.

He isn't sure how he finds himself at Athena and Bobby's home, but maybe that's exactly where he needs to be.

Make It Three | 3.2k

It takes him twenty full minutes to realize what he has said, and then it hits him like a goddamn freight train.

Oh no. Oh no.

Buck just hung up on the phone on Athena Grant telling her that he loved her like he’s been doing it every day of his life.

Oh no.

.

Or

Buck slips up and tells Athena he loves her. He has a bit of a freak out.

Words Unsaid | 2.2k

“What’s going on?” Bobby and Buck say in unison.

“You two,” Athena announces, “are going to talk things out.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Buck says, like a liar. “Everything is fine.”

.

Buck overhears Bobby say that he's not his kid. He doesn't take it very well.

Lay You Down | 2k

Buck is sick and can't be left alone in his feverish state, but everyone is working.

Everyone but Athena.

That Which We Carry | 2.1k

Bobby stops in his tracks.

Buck is sitting on the ground, next to his own car, his keys and phone forgotten next to him. His breathing is loud and short and he has his head in his hands so that his face is hidden.

He’s having a panic attack.

To Be Loved, To Belong | 3.1k

5 times Buck almost tells his family what they mean to him.

+1 time he does.

Buried | 2.3k

It’s supposed to be a simple call.

Of course, everything goes wrong.

Just As It Was | 2.3k

After the lawsuit, Buck overworks himself trying to prove his worth to the team.

One day, he pushes too far.

Sunlight | ~500

The Buckley siblings have a bet about what Maddie and Chim’s kid’s first word will be.

Family Matters | ~500

A look into the future at Bobby’s retirement party.

Humor & Fluff

Freedom In Love | 1.1k

“You can’t keep ignoring this,” Maddie says – again.

She says it a lot. His answer is pretty much always the same.

“Actually, I can. And I think I will. This is working great for me so far. It’s like Schrödinger’s confession, if I don’t say anything, Eddie can’t reject me.”

Green Heart | 3k

Buck starts seeing a man.

Eddie worries he is being a bigot, because the idea of Buck kissing another man makes him want to punch someone.

What else could it be?

The Most Perfect Moment | 1.7k

After Shannon, Eddie never thought that he would ever want to get married again.

Yet, a little red box lays in his pocket until the perfect moment to propose comes around.He has been carrying it for weeks now, waiting.

He wants his proposal to be perfect because he knows that this is the last time he will ever be asking this question. Buck is it for him. There will never be anyone else.

Blame It On Chimney | 1k

“So anyway, that’s how Chimney saw me full-on naked.”

Eddie chokes on his beer.

How It Looks | ~400

Someone is back to haunt Chim. Well, not exactly someone. Hen is tired.

The Rest Of Our Lives | ~500

One night, one conversation that changes everything between Buck and Eddie.

Tumblr Prompts

lover, be good to me | 7.1k

This is a collection of unrelated prompts first posted on my tumblr.

(Summary of each story in the first chapter's notes)

Eddie touching Buck’s birthmark | ~300

Eddie in a relationship is a clingy Eddie | ~200

Halloween at the station | ~500

Buck & Maddie being their cute selves |  ~400

Misc.

from the bottom i come running | 3.7k

Co-written with the endlessly talented ksmalltalk / @letitialewiss​

Crossover with Lone Star.

Just a soccer match for charity and two men cheering on their boyfriends.

Wait, no. Eddie and Buck are not dating, no matter what Chim and Hen can say.

Or

In the stands, Eddie befriends TK whose boyfriend is playing alongside Buck. Out on the pitch, Buck and Carlos are a force to be reckoned with.

Oh, and someone gets hurt.

safe inside | 5.6k

Co-written with the biggest-brained and most talented chasingobligion / @starlightbuck​

World-famous actor TK Strand and his bodyguard Carlos find themselves seeking shelter from fans and paparazzi in a bakery Carlos knows very well.

Or

Baking leads to a few life changes.

Breathe You In | 2k

Eddie can’t stop staring.

This selfie is going to be the death of him.Buck is shirtless, and giving the camera an intense look that leaves Eddie panting.

Or

Buck sends a picture that tips their relationship into something new.

[edyacouky]

Not My Pack

Can be read on AO3

Sumary : Reverse Robin / Omegaverse

Batman and Tim are gone to a mission in space.<br />

Alfred take his first vacation since forever.<br />

So Damian is let alone with the last pup, Jason Todd, that his father adopt a few month ago.<br />

Not a big deal, right?<br />

Well until the pup start his heat ...“Are you sure everything will be alright?”

Note : 

Damian Wayne Al Ghul  Alpha 20 years old

Tim Drake: Unpresented 14 years old

Jason Todd: Omega (presented in this fic) 12 years old

Cassandra Cain: 9 years old not in this fic

Dick Grayson: 6 years old not in this fic

***

Damian sights and rolls his eyes. His father can really be exasperating, especially since he decides to add some pups to their pack.

“Tt- It’s not the first time who leave Gotham to me for one of your Justice League mission.

-This time Alfred won’t be with you either.”

Bruce could only blame himself, he is the one that force his father figure to go on vacation somewhere without cellphone so he can really relax. But he didn’t have expected having a mission on space with the Justice League.

“Maybe I should cancel his trip. He will understand …

-Father, don’t you trust me?”

Now Damian start to be really upset. With the years, they had many problem of communication and trust. Now, they both know that they love each other deeply and would do anything for the other, but they still have difficulty to talk to each other.

“This isn’t the problem. Bruce says wanting to avoid a confrontation. I am not comfortable to let you without back up.

-I will have back up. Damian roll his eyes. Colin leaves in Gotham, in case you forget, and Jon will stay in Metropolis like Iris will be in Central City. And …”

Damian looks at where Jason watches Tim prepare his bag.

“Tt- with your obsession to add unnecessary pups to the pack, we will even have a Cambion each. Oh yeah that’s true my name isn’t good enough for Drake and he change it. By what already?

-By RedBird. And we already talk about that, no pup has to be necessary.”

Bruce sights. True is Bruce is the one who convince Tim to change the name.

He never liked that Damian chosen this name and now that he got by Batson, Bruce just want this name fallen in oblivion.

RedBird is the name Tim chose and Bruce is happy with that.

But Damian never accept that. And he is particularly spiteful with Tim, refusing to accept him as part of his pack.

“Is leaving you Jason going to be a problem for you?”

Jason arrived in the Manor only a few months ago and if the little pup doesn’t seem to have found his place yet in their pack, Damian doesn’t show him the same animosity that he shows to Tim.

“Tt- as long as he doesn’t stole the silverware, there shouldn’t be a problem.”

Bruce sights and want to add something but Superman call him to know when they will arrive. He calls Tim so they leave by the ZetaTub.

“I know the “Cambion remark” was to be mean, but just in case: Jason isn’t authorized to go on the field.

Tt- I know.

-Take care of yourself, sons. Tim and I should be back soon.

-See ya.” Jason says

***

True to be told, Damian as less aversion for Jason that he has for Tim.

Todd didn’t found his father’s secret identity, didn’t come to his house after Damian’s departure because Batman “need” a sidekick.

Todd was unlucky enough to be an orphan from the Narrow and bold enough to steal Batman’s tire the day of his parents death.

Damian can respect that.

Plus, Jason mostly like to be alone, or doesn’t mind spend hours in the same room of someone without talking. Damian appreciate this quality.

“You don’t need a babysitter, do you?

-I am twelve.

-Good. You just need my permission for leaving the Manor, otherwise do whatever a kid like to do.”

Jason raises an eyebrow watching Damian who goes to the Batcomputer.

“That’s it? Aren’t you afraid that I could steal the silverware?

-I already hide it.

-Seriously?”

Damian doesn’t answer, he simply start to caress Alfred the Cat who has taken place in his leg.

Jason doesn’t insist and decide to go to his room.

***

The following days were good. Damian was doing a good job at being Batman in Gotham, he didn’t even need back up. Jason was mostly in school or in his room. They spend time together only to eat.

At first, Damian join Jason because he was sure the pup was like his father and Drake, unable to cook and survive without Alfred.

But when he enters in the kitchen, Jason was already cooking something that smell marvelous.

“Not sure I am supposed let you behind the stove. Damian says

-Like you will cook?

-I am not incompetent like my Father. Mother teach me everything I need to survive, included cooking.

-Well, my mother wasn’t in good state to teach me anything but I am sure I am better than you.

-Tt – What about we check your little hypothesis?”

And just like that, they take the habit to cook together.

Unfortunately, it is not a family habit to have so many good days without any problem coming.

When Damian goes to the kitchen, he is surprised to not see Jason already there. He waits some minutes trying to decide if he should start without him, but it doesn’t seems right for him.

He suddenly realize that he doesn’t hear about Jason for hours now.

He is not worried about his father new pup, absolutely not. After all, he accepted coming in the Manor only to replace his father as Batman. Not to form a bond about this pup that won’t be part of his pack.

He is just curious that’s all.

And if it happen that today, Todd doesn’t want to cook with him, then it would be fine. There is no need to be disappointed about this prospect at all.

He doesn’t find the pup at the library so he goes to his room.

Weirdly, Todd isn’t in there either but Damian hears the shower running.

“Todd, will you eat tonight?” Damian asks knocking at the door

No answer.

Damian knock again calling after the pup, but just the sound of the water answer him.

“Todd, I’m coming in.”

As soon as Damian opens the door he has to pinch his nose.

“That’s stink!

-Fuck you. ‘m still smell better than you.”

Suddenly, Damian recognizes the smell. An omega in heat.

Except Colin’s, Damian never liked the strong smell of an omega in heat or an alpha in rut. Not even his own smell.

Jason is sitting on the shower, cold water that keep fall on him.

“How long are you in there? Damian asks stopping the water

-No! I am too hot! Jason moans

-Tt. How long are you in there?”

Damian take a towel and put it around Jason so he can make him leave the bathroom. Jason is right, he is really warm. Nothing unusual for an omega in heat, but always unpleasant sensation.

“I don’t know. It was still dark outside.

-Tt! It’s noon already! Why didn’t you come find me?”

Jason shrugs.

“Didn’t think you would have help.”

Damian frowns.

He knows that he isn’t a member of a pack of Jason, but he though that the pup knew that he could found him if he was in trouble.

“You’re a pup, of course I would have help you.”

Once Jason was dry, Damian put him so random PJ and put him in the bed.

“Stay in bed, you should be better here. I bring food and water. I don’t want to move, understand?”

Jason keep moaning and rolling in the bed, scratching his clothes. Damian rolls his eyes and leaves him.

***

Damn, this day gets wrong with every minutes.

When Jason hears Damian’s voice, he was relieved. He wants someone to help him, telling him that everything will be fine. But no one in his life was like that to him.

Even his mother … She tried but despite how much she loved Jason, she was part of the reason Jason needed help.

It’s been a few month since he was living in the Manor. The pack is really weird.

Damian, Tim, Alfred and himself are part of Bruce’s pack.

But Damian never try to bond with them, so he isn’t really part of Tim and Jason’s pack.

And Tim and Jason don’t see each other much. Tim come to the Manor only for patrol and Jason can’t participate for now. So they don’t consider each other as part of the same pack.

Alfred tries to change Tim and Jason relationship but there isn’t much that could be do with Damian.

“What a mess.” Jason thinks

Never less, Jason though that when he will finally have his heat, it would be safe and not so lonely.

Jason couldn’t help himself but cries.

He wants the pain to stop. He wishes his mother was alive and hugs him. He wishes Bruce was there, calling him champ. He wishes to have more comfortable PJ and more blanket.

He would have prefer not have an alpha that isn’t pack near him. Logically, Jason knows that Damian is an asshole but he can be nice like when they cook together. But he can’t help but fear of being abused.

Damn, would he feels this miserable every time he will have his heat? That sucks.

“Are you crying? He hears Damian but refuse to react. Tt- there is medicament with your food. Take it.”

Jason shake his head and cowers.

“Tt! Don’t act like a child.”

Damian forces him to sit down and give him some soup and medicament.

“Take it. It would be better after.”

Finally, Jason decide takes a sip, hoping that Damian will leave him after. But the demon forces him to drink all the soup.

“More. Your stomach is empty. You will feel better.”

Damian keeps telling him that but honestly, Jason is just feeling worse.

He can’t wait for his heat to pass.

***

Damian paces in the corridor.

The pup not only stink because of his heat but also because of distress.

Damian doesn’t understand what else he could do. The pup is safely in his den, with food and an alpha to protect him. What else could he want?

Of course he tries to contact Bruce or Alfred but neither answer. And Damian doesn’t consider the situation as an emergency.

True is he is too proud to admit he is overtake by the situation.

Seriously why did that happen now?

Did Jason too young for that? Damian doesn’t think that Drake as presented yet. Himself didn’t present until he was thirteen.

How could he fail? He helps Colin frequently, so he knows what an omega need.

Colin always seems happy in his bed after some food and medicament.

Another sobs is heard from Jason’s room.

Damian sighs.

He needs backup. Quickly.

***

“Hey Dami.

-Hey Beloved.

-Still no improvement? Colin asks him after they kiss

-It gets worse. Damian admits. I appreciate that you comes.

-That’s ok. But he may not want someone that is not part of his pack to come near him.

-Well one of us, will have to come in his room, no matter what.”

Colin shrug an eyebrown.

“Didn’t you guys get close this day?

-Still not pack.”

Colin didn’t try to debate with Damian. His lover could be as stubborn as possessive sometimes.

They were arrived to the corridor, when Colin had to take a break before he was going to throw up.

“You didn’t lie, it stinks. He must have been in distress for hours now.

-He says it was dark when he wake up.

-Damn Dami, you should have call me sooner.

-Tt …”

When they arrives in front of the door, Colin knocks and just stick his head in the room.

“Hey pup, can I come in?

-Who are you?

-I am Dami’s friend, he though I could help you.”

Jason took a moment to smell the air.

“Omega?

-Yes, I am.

-And a rapist?

-Of course he is not! Damian takes offense. Why should I bring some degenerate here?

-Why should I know that? You are not pack, right?” Jason yells

Damian looks really hurt and guilty by the accusation, Colin gently caress his cheeks.

He isn’t really good to show it to people but Damian really care, so much that he may hurts him sometimes.

“I am not here to have sex with you, neither is Damian.”

Jason simply looks at him, judges him.

“Can I come in?”

Finally Jason shrugs.

“Why not?” He whispers

Colin enters and carefully sit down next to Jason. Tenderly, he caress Jason’s hair. He moans so pitifully with just this little touch and love himself against Colin so quickly.

“What? Aren’t Dami’s hugs good enough?

-Damian doesn’t hug.” Jason scoff

Damian doesn’t hear clearly what the two omega say, but by the glare Colin sent him, he knows he is in trouble.

“Are you in pain?

-Not really, don’t feel the cramps since Damian gives me medicament.

-But you don’t feel good?

-Feel like shit.” Jason admit now putting his arm around Colin

Damn, Colin thinks this pup is so cute. He can understand why Bruce decide to adopt him.

After being sure that nothing was physically wrong with the pup. Colin look around the room and see many weird things.

“Don’t you have more blanket? Maybe some more soft.

-Probably. Bruce’s mother was an omega, they must have thousand blankets here.

-True. And are you the one who took away the curtain of your canopy bed?”

Jason shakes his head.

“There weren’t when I took this room.

-May be nice if I put some. Would you like it?”

Jason hums.

“Can I change PJ too?

-Of course sweetie, why couldn’t you?

-Don’t know. Jason shrugs. Damian gives it to me.

-I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you change.”

Jason nods, happy with this information.

“Ok, kiddo. I am going to bring all of that now.”

Colin tries to stand up but Jason yells and tightens his embraces.

“No, please no.

-Hey, everything will be alright. I have only for a minute or two. Just the time for you to change, ok?”

Jason starts crying again but let Colin go.

“I know that heat suck, but that would be ok now.”

Jason snorts. Damian keeps telling him that before and he was wrong.

He really hope that Colin is right because if his heat are all like that, without possibility of getting better, then he really want to found a permanent way to stop them.

Recalcitrant, Jason leaves the bed to change while Colin goes talk to Damian.

“So?

-So it was bad, Damian.”

Shit Damian and not Dami.

“You didn’t even hug the pup. Seriously, take a book or pick a movie and simply hug him.

-What? This is things I do only with you!

-There nothing sexual in that. And heat is not share only with mate, you know?

-I only do it with you.”

Colin frowns then realizes.

“Wait, you really never share a heat with anyone than me?

-Both of my parent are alpha, and it is not costume in the League. Damian blushes. Expect with the one.”

It’s Colin’s turn to blush.

“Is that for that you were so shy the first you share my heat? Even if it was platonic? Dami, you were only fourteen …

-And I already know then that you were my mate, Beloved.”

Colin could not help himself but to kiss him. His mate always find way to make in fall in love all over again, even if it wasn’t on purpose.

“Look, I understand now that it may be uncomfortable for you, but I truly think that you should give this pup some hugs …

-Beloved …

-You see how he reacts with me, and he doesn’t even know me. He is badly touch starved. And you get to know each other this last days, to appreciate each other, right?

-Tt …

-Look, if you really can’t I will, but for the long term, it would be better if it’s you.”

Damian looks at the pale figure of Jason, he stills seem miserable and shaking. Damian want to help him, he truly do.

“You will come back?

-Oh I just have to go buy some cigarette.

-You don’t smoke. Damian frowns

-No … I mean … That’s a joke.

-Are you sure? It’s not funny.

-Go help your pack’s pup, asshole.” Colin laugh pushing Damian in the room while he goes take what Jason need

Damian doesn’t have the time to tell “Not my pack” before Colin was gone.

Jason is back sulking in his bed and seems disappointed that Colin is not there anymore.

“Tt. Do you mind if I sit down with you?”

Jason shrugs.

“Tt.”

Damian sit down at the edge of the bed. The smell is still too strong and it still feel wrong to share the pup’s heat.

At least Jason stop crying and seems to find his discomfort funny and he is in the expecting of what Damian will do.

When his father will be back home, Damian will kill him for putting him in this position.

“There, there.” Damian says taping the pup’s head

And to his horror, Jason dare laugh at him.

“You’re really bad at that.

-Tt … Colin should be back soon.”

Jason see the alpha differently now. He truly though that he has abandon him, but he is here and with back up, for Jason.

Suddenly, this dark brooding distant alpha looks like a clumsy caring bear.

“Can I hug you?

-If it can truly help you.”

Damian sit a little closer to Jason and the pup throw himself into his arm, purring like a crazy once he was well installed.

Damn, Colin was right, the pup is touch starved. How could Damian miss that? He put one of his hands on the back of the pup and the other on his head playing with his hair. Damian wasn’t sure it was a good idea to repeat same gesture he do with Colin but Jason now is smiling.

The day may not be too bad finally.

***

When Colin return with blankets and curtains, he is relieved to see Jason and Damian much more relaxed.

He gives Jason the blankets and quickly he fix his nest so he can feel more comfortable in it while Damian and he put the curtains.

Once that Jason was sleeping between Colin and Damian, Damian could really consider that they success taking care of the pup.

And finally, sharing the heat of a member of “not his pack” that isn’t his lover is not so bad after all.