#this game's story and world have just grabbed my heart and squeezed

[assorted-things]

My thoughts on the ending

This is probably going to be a bit rambling and disconnected, so bear with me...

(This got far longer than I meant it to be...)

Does anyone else feel that the Deserter is a reflection of the person Harry could have been, if he hadn't lost his memory? The bitterness and anger and inability to let go of the past remind me of a lot of things that the Ancient Reptilian Brain and the Limbic System say in the dream sequences... I think that Harry's amnesia is a gift, in a way - it allows Harry to eventually let go of the past and decide what kind of person he wants to be now. One of the first dream sequences shows Harry a vision of himself as the hanged man, and I think in a way the old Harry did die when he lost his memories. One of the reasons the game was so affecting emotionally to me is that you as the player are the one getting Harry to turn his life around, if that's how you choose to play it, because it really makes you feel involved and part of Harry's story. It's one of the reasons why I don't think the game would work well as a TV adaptation - I think it would really lose a lot of its emotional impact without your input. It really moved me that I could get Harry to go from screaming that he "doesn't want to be that kind of animal any more", to telling the Phasmid: "I'm glad to be me - an incredibly sensitive instrument".

I really love how the tone of the game manages to be somehow hopeless and hopeful at the same time. Maybe the world is doomed by the Pale, and the Revolution failed, and maybe Revachol is a shithole, but... you can find that there are things worth loving and saving in this broken world. You're subconscious tries so hard to convince you that it's all terrible and evil and that you should just give up and let the darkness take you, but all of your actions through the game can prove that voice wrong. It tells you you're not helping anyone, but depending on how you play the game, you are: you found Billie's husband, and even though he's dead, at least now she knows and won't have to wait forever for him to come home when he won't; Cuno has someone who actually listens to him and takes what he has to say seriously; you got Plaisance to bring Annette in from the cold; you stopped the mercenaries from killing as many people as they might otherwise have done (it went pretty badly in my playthrough, but I tried), and you gave Kim a friend. I love the message it seems to be trying to put across that even if the world is ultimately doomed, you can and should still try to find the good in it, and make a small part of it a better place. And maybe in the end it won't change anything, but the fact that you had hope enough to try matters. And maybe if enough people thought that way, they could change reality for the better - maybe there was a grain of truth in that infra-materialist stuff all along. Maybe it sounds corny, but I found it very touching.

This is... sort of where the Phasmid comes in for me, because everyone thought the existence of the Insulindan Phasmid was impossible, but because you believed in it enough, you were able to prove it was real. And if the Phasmid is real, then maybe other things that people thought were impossible can happen, too... It makes me feel very satisfied that I chose "SOMETHING BEAUTIFUL IS GOING TO HAPPEN" when I painted that wall. It seems fitting.

I also love the fact that the Deserter being stuck in the past is literally killing him. And... he talks a big game about being the last real Communist or whatever, but in the end, how is he actually helping the working class by clinging to his bitterness and refusing to let go of what could have been, instead of trying to do something to help the people around him? Even though Harry is flawed, and on his own can't change the world, he's made a difference to the people around him, which is better than being consumed by bitterness and doing nothing at all.

In the end, I think for me one of the core themes of the game is faith/belief (not necessarily in a religious sense)... I think that something that really helps is Kim's belief in Harry. He's so kind to Harry, when he could just as easily write him off as a shambling alcoholic. I think Kim's faith in you makes you want to live up to what he thinks of you, so... I'm not sure how coherent I'm being here, but it's a bit like how Harry believing in the Phasmid lets him make it a definite reality - Kim's belief in Harry as a great detective, or someone who could be a great detective, makes Harry a better person, I think. (At least, that's my take on it - I got so attached to Kim as a character that I really wanted to make him proud of my version of Harry!) And in the end, his faith wasn't misplaced. Again, he can't change the world, and he's human and not a saint (much as Harry may think he is), but Kim choosing to be kind did make a difference, even if it was only to one man.

tl;dr This is going to sound unbearably pretentious, but if someone asked me if video games can be art, this is the game I'd point to and say "yes".

[emeraldelysian]

Choi San ✧ The Jealousy Game

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Pairing: Choi San x Reader

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Synopsis: "The Jealousy Game." A game in which you and your boyfriend Choi San flirt with other people to see who will break first. However, when San missteps on a day when you just want his love and attention, he realizes that he has to find a way to make it up to you.

Wordcount: 1.8K

Warnings: Reader has F. Anatomy; Make-Up Sex, Wall Sex, Kitchen Sex, Oral (F. Receiving); Stand and Carry Position; Kind of exhibitionist?; Protected (Wrap it before you tap it)

Note: Hi loves, long time no see!! I'm sorry I haven't been able to write that much this year, it's been a lot of ups and downs. But I wanted to get one more story out at least before the end of the year. I hope you all enjoy!!

♡︎ follow, provide feedback, or reblog if you enjoyed but please don't repost or translate!♡︎

MDNI, 18+ CONTENT

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You and Choi San had a peculiar way of finding amusement. Whenever you both attended parties, you would engage in a wild game of jealousy, each one flirting with other people, determined to see who would break first. It was a wicked dance of passion and insecurity, the push and pull of emotions that heightened the intensity of your connection.

But on this particular day, a cloud of vulnerability loomed over you, casting a shadow on your usually confident demeanor.

The sun set, casting a warm golden glow over the garden where the party was held. The air smelled of blooming roses and anticipation, mingling with the lively chatter and tinkling glasses. As always, Choi San's eyes danced mischievously, a glint of excitement lighting them up. You shared a knowing smile, acknowledging the game that was about to commence.

To an outsider, it may have seemed as though you both walked through the crowd with poise and charm, effortlessly captivated by your temporary flings. Yet beneath your facade of indifference, a subtle undercurrent of worry gnawed away at your heart. Doubt seeped into your thoughts, staining them with unease.

'Why does San seem so distant today? Is it my fault?' Questions like these peppered your mind, leaving you feeling untethered in a sea of people.

The music began, its rhythmic pulse guiding the fluid movements of the crowd. Your gaze locked with San's, feeling an electric pull that only the two of you could understand. A woman with flowing auburn hair approached, her smile captivating him instantly. You observed with a clenched chest as she whispered something in San's ear, her laughter filling the air like a sweet melody. They moved together, their bodies in tune with the vibrant melody that filled the atmosphere.

Watching San dance with the woman sent a surge of unfamiliar emotions coursing through your veins. Jealousy clawed at your chest, its tendrils wrapping around your heart, squeezing with a relentless grasp. Doubt echoed in your mind, causing you to question your own self-worth. The laughter that had once brightened your eyes dimmed, replaced by a flicker of insecurity. You desperately craved his love and attention, yet it felt as though the world around you had receded, leaving you stranded upon an island of your own apprehension.

Eventually, the song came to an end, and San and the woman parted ways. You couldn't help but feel hurt by his behavior, and rather than taking a step back from the noise. He turned towards you just as you turned away. His stormy eyes betrayed a hint of remorse as he watched you walk away from the party, into the house.

Feeling a mix of emotions, you went inside the house to seek solace. As you closed the door behind you, you desperately tried to stop yourself from overthinking as you grabbed yourself a glass of water, but the thoughts continued to swirl around in your head. The hurt from San's behavior pierced deep, and you couldn't help but question where things went wrong. The sound of the party outside seemed distant now, but it wasn't enough to break you away from the incessant thoughts that plagued your mind. Just as you were drowning in a sea of self-doubt, a gentle knock at the door startled you.

It was San. He softly gazed at your lost expression, closing the door behind him as he entered the house.

As he reached out to touch your trembling hand, his voice was a tender caress against your ear, "I'm sorry, love. I've taken the game too far today. I didn't realize how much I hurt you, how vulnerable you've been feeling."

Tentatively, you met his gaze, seeing the genuine concern etched in each of his features. In that moment, the walls you had carefully constructed to protect yourself began to crumble. "I just needed you, San," you whispered, your voice threaded with aching vulnerability.

His arms wrapped around your trembling frame, pulling you into an embrace where all the pain and insecurity dissolved. He tenderly kissed you. With each gentle touch held his vow to mend the wounds he had unintentionally inflicted upon your heart. In that embrace, you realized that love is not a game to be played, but a tender dance where trust and understanding are the true partners.

"Please let me make it up to you," he whispered softly as he pulled away.

Your gaze flickered between his lips and his eyes before you nodded and kissed him again, soft lips smiling into each other.

He pushed you softly against the wall, deepening the kisses between you both.

Looking into your eyes, your hand gracefully past his belt buckle and into the intimate space of his cotton briefs. He was hard and ready, and you moved it between your fingers slowly, savoring his obvious eagerness. Suddenly, his hands were tenderly gripping your wrists, raising them above your head.

"Please don't move," he whispered as he lowered himself onto his knees. With his face directly between your legs, he unhurriedly unclasped the button on your jeans, undid the zipper, and meticulously slid your pants off.

His lips were just an inch away from your black silk panties. He traced your inner thigh with gentle, delicate kisses. He then moved his mouth to your stomach, nibbling at the bottom of your cashmere sweater. As he rose again, he skillfully used only his teeth to lift up the fabric.

You could feel the warmth of his breath hovering over your breasts. The anticipation and desire within you grew as he started to tease you.

In that moment, all the doubts and insecurities that had plagued you throughout the night melted away. The game of jealousy, once an exhilarating dance, now seemed trivial in comparison to the deep connection you both cherished. What had begun as a test of emotions had ultimately revealed the depth of your love and the fragility of your hearts.

"God I love you so much."

His face popped up from between your legs. His lips glistened with the juices of your almost-orgasm while your legs still trembled from his tongue’s teasing.

He gently rubbed his finger along your clit, rousing you back to reality. Your entire body was on high alert. You hadn’t made it to the bed, or even to the sofa. Instead, you both leaned against the wall completely naked by the kitchen table, clothes strewn about haphazardly.

Let’s just say that if any of the partygoers decided to come inside, they would have gotten quite the show.

You couldn’t help but admire the grin on his face and the excitement in his eyes as he stared and stared into you. His hands continued to work their magic, and you spread your legs wider, inviting him to take in more of me.

“I love you too.” The words came out as two moans. As his fingers slipped and dipped inside of me, the pleasure continued to build, kickstarting the shaking and gasping again.

“I could live down here forever," he moaned into you.

“I wish you could, baby.” You tugged on his locks and brought his face towards you. You could taste yourself, sweet and pungent, on his lips. You broke apart and you caught his eyes with yours, mirroring his desire. It was clear that the need you felt to cherish this moment together was mutual.

You wrapped your arms around each other, your bodies heaving towards one another like magnets. The heat from his skin sent shivers down your spine as you feeling of him pressing into you excited you. You kissed for what seemed like an eternity, hands gently grazing skin, tongues tenderly touching - losing yourselves in each other. It was a moment of softness, of utmost sincerity.

But you needed him inside you before you risked being interrupted.

“I’ll be right back,” You said. You sauntered over to your purse that had been forgotten on the kitchen counter where you kept the condoms.

“You're so beautiful,” he groaned.

You turned around to see him watching your every nude move, leaning against the wall in awe. You grabbed the condom from your purse and came back over to him. He took the condom and quickly put in on. He held your hips steadily as he entered you.

You could feel him all the way to your belly button. You screamed out with pleasure, your hands taking the heat as he thrusted fast and deep. The movement pushed your body all the way forward, causing a consistent banging on the wall you were leaning against. He placed his palms on your ass as he lifts you up, your legs wrapped around him as he bounces you up and down. You take more and more of him as he brands your body with his hands.

"I think everyone outside is going to hear us if you keep moaning like that." His words came out low and throaty.

Your breath was shallow as you got closer to reaching your limit. Nothing existed outside of this moment - the sensation of his hands holding you up, how deeply satisfied this closeness made you feel. You kissed him, holding his mouth on yours for a long time. You breathed in his breaths as you began to tremble and gasp, your orgasms melting into each other, ecstasy swimming through your veins as you finished together.

You had never experienced anything like that before, that insane and electric synchrony. Your limbs vibrated in the fading exhilaration. You leaned back against the fall as he gently let you down. Your knees are weak as you slip down to sit. He kneels down with you, as you both exhale slowly and deeply.

You both sat there catching your breath as you looked out the glass door to the back. From your viewpoint, you could only see the trees as they were cast with the overwhelmingly beautiful pink and purple tie-dyed afternoon sky. People were still laughing and enjoying themselves outside, and you were grateful that you guys had been just shy of their viewpoint into the house.

You turned towards San who had opted to gaze at you isntead of the world outside. He moved his hand to brush some of the hair out of your face.

"Listen," he began, his tone softer once again, dripping with sincerity. "Please, believe me when I say that despite everything, my heart has always been yours. These games were never about finding someone else; they were about making sure you were the one who wanted me."

Words escaped you, overwhelmed by the outpouring of emotions coursing through your veins. You both were in the wrong, having chosen to play a game that would play on both of your insecurities. But you squeezed his hand, conveying volumes in that simple gesture. The truth was, despite the hurt you both had caused through these game, your love for eachother remained unshaken.

You gently kissed him once more before giving him a smile, "Let's just agree not to play that silly game anymore and get dressed, okay?"

He nodded and smiled, a flicker of hope now dancing within the depths of his eyes.

"From this moment forward, there will be no more games, no more tests. Just you and me, fighting for our love."

[femme4ngel]

could you write fluff about dad kylian?

Maybe he has a newborn baby or two daughters

kylian has such girldad vibes i can’t explain..:( i wrote headcanons and a little story too! i have some problems with the grammar bc english isn’t my first language:/

( you have two daughters, twins!)

- when you find out your pregnant he says he just wants the baby to be healthy, and that he doesn’t have a gendered preference.. but cmon he is dying for a baby girl.

- and then you give birth to TWO girls. his heart just can’t take it.

- he takes your daughters everywhere with him. i’m talking absolutely everywhere. to interviews, to games, to red carpet events, to award shows. he’s holding their hands 24/7 and when they start getting tired he takes them into his arms, or lets them hop on his back.

- in every single interview he finds a way to start talking about them! ..: “ oh and my daughter actually learned how to walk this week!”

- shows everyone around him videos of you and your daughters. its cute in the beginning but then after some time everyone gets bored of him. he doesn’t care tho and just chases his teammates around with his phone in his hands, pointing at the video he took of his daughters.

- hes an amazing father. im talking exceptional. hes kind, and somewhat strict but in a completely normal way. he never ever raises his voice, he never scares your daughters.

- his social media is just you and your daughters. he’s posting about his daughters 24/7.

- he scores all his goals for his daughters, pointing up to them on the stands as his celebration.

———-💌

its been a tiring long day, you had to take care of your daughters and yourself, as well as keeping the house clean. such simple tasks as showering, doing the laundry have become more difficult, the tiredness just completely taking over your body. it was now 9am and kylian still hasn’t gotten back from training. you were laying on the couch, cuddling with your daughters and cats, reading them a nighttime story. your daughters snuggled close to you, dozing off to sleep, yawning and blinking slowly up at you. they were so close to falling asleep ( finally! you thought to yourself… you spent the whole day running around and playing, it was just the time for some rest) when you heard the car park into the driveway and kylians keys turning in the lock. your daughters jumped off the couch the minute they heard him enter the house, running into his arms in the hallway. you get up and walk towards them, amazed by your beautiful family. kylian is holding his kids close to him, squeezing and hugging them with his eyes closed.

“ - okay babies lets give papa some space..” - you tell them, hugging and kissing kylian. he hugs you tightly,while whispering into your ears.

“ i missed you so much”..- he mutters.

you give him another kiss on the cheek, and grab your daughters hands. you reheat the dinner you made kylian, and when you turn to give him the plate him and your children are already sitting in their chairs at the kitchen table. you smile and give him the food ( knowing he will only eat half of it, sharing the other half with his daughters..) he starts eating his food, or at least tries eating it because your daughters are non stop asking him questions. they want to know everything about his day, how the training went, how many goals he scored, how many fouls were at the training, who did good today on the team and who played badly.. he answers every question with a huge cheeky grin on his face, his eyes sparkling. he loves football so much and hes so happy that his daughters are interested in it too. you love seeing them like this, your daughters looking up at their dad with stars in their eyes and huge smiles on their faces, so lost in their own little world.

[threelionsgirl]

may i request a Jadon Sancho story please! where he’s hanging out with his friends 1 night but you text that you miss him and so he ditches them and they clown him for it 😭 he comes to pick you up and there’s a sweet reunion kiss/cuddle in the car :’)

i miss u | jadon sancho

warnings: none, just fluffy!!

word count: 601

notes: hope u like!! sorry for the bad title, I was out of ideas 🫠

masterlist | for now, requests are open!

It was a busy night when Jadon Sancho went out with his friends, laughing loudly amidst the excitement of the city. After returning to Dortmund, all he wanted to do was get reacquainted with the city he had lived in for a while and get to know his new clubmates better.

Meanwhile, you were at home, missing him, and decided to send him a message full of nostalgia:

y/n: "I miss you love 😔❤️".

It had been three days since you last saw each other, but for you it seemed like an eternity. You understood that he needed time off to go out with his friends, and that was fine with you, but that didn't stop you from missing and being affectionate with your boyfriend.

When he received the message, Jadon turned away from his friends, concentrating on his cell phone to answer you. He always replied on time when he wasn't busy with games and training.

jadon: I can't wait to see you again, do you want me to pick you up?

y/n: ah no need jad, you're with your friends I don't want to get in the way

jadon: you're not in the way y/n, I love my friends but your company always makes any place better for me

Y/N could swear she felt her heart melt. She was so lucky to have him as her boyfriend.

Jadon's distraction caught the attention of his friends who began to ridicule him. "Hey, Jadon, looks like Y/N's getting some attention, huh?" teased one of his friends with a mischievous grin.

Ignoring the jokes, Jadon replied: "You know how it is, when the right person calls, we answer." He turned away from the group and headed towards where you were.

Jadon parked in front of your house and flashed his headlights as it was always empty. You went downstairs and ran quickly to his car. As you approached, he opened the driver's door with the clear intention that this was where Y/N should enter. She got the message, got into the car and snuggled into his lap. Jadon closed the door and turned on the radio and the car's heating, making the atmosphere perfect. He turned to you, his eyes reflecting affection, wrapped his arms around your waist and you wasted no time in grabbing the back of his neck and giving him a kiss. As you looked at him, you noticed the sympathetic look in his eyes and, before you could say anything, Jadon smiled and said: "I've been missing you too."

"You're so cute!"

"You're the cute one." He said, giving you an Eskimo kiss and you laughed. Jadon stroked your hair and you hugged him tighter. All the time in the world wouldn't be enough to make her miss you.

"Do you want me to hold you closer?" He laughed when you squeezed him a little tighter. Jadon ran his hands up your back, caressing you lovingly.

"No that's not it, ugh-I just want to curl up inside you. Is that weird?"

"A little, but I don't mind at all."

"The fact that you love me even though I'm weird makes me love you even more."

"You're my weirdo and I love you anyway." She smiled and moved closer to kiss him again. No matter where they were going, they could always look forward to those moments and the affection they shared in the car.

As Jadon drove through the illuminated city, the conversation between you flowed with laughter and confidences. The tension of your friends' mockery disappeared completely.

[ametrinearrows]

Hurt

In the world of WWE, Shawn Michaels and YN YLN were more than just colleagues; they were the best of friends. Their camaraderie was legendary backstage, where they’d often share stories, jokes, and the occasional friendly competition. However, life on the road had its toll, and their paths hadn’t crossed in a while.

As the cheers of the crowd resonated through the arena, Shawn Michaels stepped into the ring to face his eternal rival, the Undertaker. The match was intense, each move executed with precision, and the audience was on the edge of their seats. But as fate would have it, a risky maneuver left Shawn clutching his back in pain. The match continued, but the damage was done.

Meanwhile, Triple H watched from the sidelines, his concern growing with every painful expression on Shawn’s face. As the match concluded, Triple H rushed to the locker room, his heart heavy with worry. He knew there was only one person who could bring solace to Shawn in times like this—YN YLN.

Triple H burst into YN’s locker room, his voice slightly frantic. “YN, you need to know. Shawn’s hurt, really hurt.”

YN’s eyes widened with shock, her concern mirroring Triple H’s urgency. “What? How bad is it?”

Triple H took a deep breath, his voice softening as he spoke. “He took quite a beating from the Undertaker. He’s hurt, but I know he’d feel better if you were there.”

YN’s heart raced as memories of their shared moments flooded her mind. Without a second thought, she hurriedly got up, her determination shining in her eyes. “I’m coming.”

She followed Triple H to Shawn’s locker room, where he was nursing his injuries. The pain was evident on his face, but his eyes lit up when he saw YN standing there. A mix of surprise and relief washed over him.

“YN,” Shawn whispered, his voice strained. “I didn’t expect…”

YN approached him with a gentle smile, her presence calming the room. “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

Shawn managed a weak chuckle. “I’ll live, thanks to you guys watching my back.”

Triple H nodded in agreement. “He’s right. We’re a team, always looking out for each other.”

YN’s gaze never left Shawn’s. “You scared me, you know. You can’t just go getting hurt like this.”

Shawn grinned, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Sorry to cause a fuss.”

YN’s expression softened. “Just promise me you’ll take it easy and let yourself heal.”

Shawn reached out and gently squeezed YN’s hand. “I promise.”

With a determined look, YN offered her support. “Alright, big guy, time for me to take care of you. Let’s get you home and on the mend.”

Triple H helped Shawn to his feet, and together they made their way to YN’s car. The journey to Shawn’s place was filled with lighthearted banter and reminiscing about their adventures together. Despite the pain he was in, Shawn couldn’t help but smile at the familiarity and warmth of their friendship.

Once they arrived at Shawn’s home, YN carefully guided him inside, making sure he was as comfortable as possible. She prepared a cozy space on the couch with pillows and blankets, ensuring he had everything he needed within reach.

“Here’s the remote, some water, and I’ll grab some painkillers,” YN said, moving around the living room with an air of practiced care.

Shawn chuckled softly. “Feels like old times, you taking care of me.”

YN handed him the painkillers with a playful roll of her eyes. “Don’t get used to it. You’re lucky this time.”

Over the next few days, YN became Shawn’s steadfast companion. She cooked his favorite meals, made sure he took his medication, and provided a listening ear whenever he needed to vent about the frustrations of being sidelined. Their conversations flowed effortlessly, a mix of laughter, reminiscing, and supportive words.

As Shawn’s injuries slowly improved, YN also found creative ways to keep him entertained without pushing his body too hard. They watched classic wrestling matches, played video games, and even attempted to recreate some of their favorite wrestling moves (with Shawn’s movements limited, of course).

One evening, as the sun set outside, casting a warm glow in the room, Shawn looked at YN with gratitude in his eyes. “You’ve made this recovery feel a lot less lonely.”

YN smiled back, her gaze soft. “That’s what friends are for, Shawn. I could never stop caring.”

Weeks went by, and Shawn’s injuries began to heal, thanks in no small part to YN’s dedicated care. As he regained his strength, they decided it was time for him to step back into the ring. YN stood by his side, cheering him on from the sidelines during his training sessions.

On the day of his comeback match, Shawn’s nerves were palpable. YN, however, exuded confidence. “You’ve got this. Just remember, I’ll be cheering the loudest.”

As Shawn’s music blared through the arena, he walked out with newfound determination. The match was fierce, but Shawn’s spirit was unbreakable. With each move he executed, he could almost feel YN’s unwavering support propelling him forward.

After the match, victorious and exhausted, Shawn made his way backstage to find YN waiting for him with a triumphant grin. “See? I told you that you had it in you.”

Shawn chuckled, a mix of relief and pride in his eyes. “Couldn’t have done it without you, YN.”

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Chapter 9 Part 1

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support cybird by buying their stories. SPOILERS under the cut. Expect mistakes.

(Could it be that this guy is...?)

Man: "As I thought, one of the twins survived."

The man clucked his tongue and walked up to Kicho casually.

(Survived?)

Mai: "Kicho!"

Kicho: "..........."

Man: "Who the hell are you!?"

Jumping out of the shadows, I immediately lifted the table and threw it toward the man.

CRASH!

Man: "Whoa!"

(Okay! Now!)

Mai: "Let's run!"

I grabbed his small hand tightly and ran toward the doorway.

(It's gonna be okay. I'll figure it out.)

(I'll protect him.)

We ran out of the castle, took a horse, and continued to flee without looking back, only stopping when we were in the middle of nowhere.

Mai: "I think we're safe now that we've made it this far."

Kicho: "Yeah. They already caught that guy."

Mai: "Huh!? How can you tell?"

Kicho: "He got caught by the vassal, who noticed the commotion when we passed the hallway."

Kicho: "I think that vassal thought I was Nohime."

Mai: "That's..."

Kicho: "It was worth it to dress like this."

He smiled softly as he traced his lips.

Mai: "If you already knew, you should've told me earlier."

(If they thought he was Nohime, I would've been treated as a kidnapper and a thief because I also stole a horse!)

Kicho: "If I told you, they would've found out who I was."

Kicho: "Also, I've always been curious."

Mai: "Curious about what?"

Kicho: "Everything that's not in that room."

He took his eyes off me and carefully dismounted the horse as I followed suit.

(Oh...)

A fresh morning breeze crossed over the plain and ruffled our hair playfully.

The sound of grass and flowers rustling reached my ears and eventually faded away, absorbed by the blue sky.

It was a heart-wrenching moment.

(I see. That room doesn't even have a breeze like this.)

Kicho: "What did I do to my body?"

Mai: "Kicho?"

Kicho: "I was only born into this world. I didn't do anything to be shunned like that."

Mai: "............"

When I saw him turn toward me, I felt a pain in my chest similar to that of a nail being hammered.

Soon, large, uncontrollable tears were spilling from his wide-open eyes as if his feelings had broken down.

Kicho: "I don't want to die. I just want to live."

Kicho: "I'm not Nohime. I'm not a person who doesn't exist. I'm...!"

Mai: "Kicho."

Kicho: "..........."

Mai: "You are you."

Mai: "There's a lot I don't know, but that's the one thing I know very well."

I hugged his little body tightly as I told him this.

Mai: "This is just my take on it, but in this world, other people's evaluations and values make you who you are."

Mai: "But no matter where you are and what you do, you are you."

Mai: "As long as you continue to live and have your will, this fact will never change."

Kicho: "..........."

(These are the most important words he gave me, so I want to return them properly.)

Mai: "Please continue to live as you."

Mai: "I want you to live, too.”

Kicho: "Really?"

Mai: "I'm not lying. I told you earlier that I wouldn't lie to you."

(My meeting with him in the future was the exact opposite.)

(I’ve spent days searching for the truth, confused about what’s right or wrong.)

(In the end, I couldn’t convey anything properly.)

Mai: “I want to be honest, not for your sake, but for mine.”

Mai: “That’s why these words are not lies.”

Kicho: “This is weird.”

Mai: “Is it?”

Kicho: “It wasn’t just your words. You took me with you and ran all the way here.”

Kicho: “You’ve been on my side ever since you showed up out of nowhere.”

(Oh...)

He looked at his hand on my arm and squeezed it tightly.

(I wonder if I conveyed the heartfelt feelings I couldn’t put into words before.)

I wrapped my body around him as if I were hugging the only treasure that was more valuable than anything else in the world.

I felt his heartbeat that overlapped with my own.

Kicho: “I don’t know why you care so much about me, but I believe you. No matter what happens, I will live.”

Mai: “That’s a promise, okay?”

Mai: “If anything happens to you, I’ll be very sad.”

Slowly, I released my arms, and he stared at me.

His eyes were a little reddish, but much more intense than the ones I had first seen in the dark room.

Kicho: “What’s your name?”

Mai: "Huh?"

Kicho: "Your name. I still don't know it."

Mai: "Oh, right. I'm...."

Girl's voice: "Please, answer me! Where are you!?"

Kicho: "-----!"

(I can hear a child's voice and multiple sounds of hoofbeats. I think someone's coming.)

Mai: "Um, Kicho. Did you hear that?"

Kicho: "It's Nohime."

Mai: "So it's your sister's voice."

(Thank God. He can get home safely now that someone is coming to look for him.)

The moment I breathed a sigh of relief...

Mai: "-----!"

I heard a sudden roar of thunder, and rain began to pour down.

Kicho: "Why suddenly?"

Mai: "This is bad. You'll get wet if you don't hurry up. You need to join your sister quickly."

(Huh? This rain feels familiar.)

(Right, a wormhole!)

Mai: "Kicho, I think this is where I have to say goodbye."

Kicho: "What?"

Mai: "I can't involve you in this. I'm sorry!"

(I'm sure that with all those horses, Nohime and the others would notice him immediately.)

I left Kicho behind and ran as fast as I could.

Kicho: “Big sis! I still don’t know your name!”

Mai: “Don’t worry. We’ll see each other again soon!”

I waved my hand, shouting so as not to be drowned out by the sound of the rain.

(He will live and be free to leave, but he will still get tied down by heavy shackles.)

My wanting him to live is unmistakably my true intention.

And I want that life to be something that is not bound by a dark room or shackles.

(I’ve come a long way, so let’s not get lost again. Let’s run straight with our legs and hearts.)

A haze began to form around me, surrounding me, and then I lost consciousness.

Mai: *sigh*

I quickly sat up and looked around.

(I’m in the cabin. I see. I’m back.)

(I’ll never get used to this feeling, even though this is the third time I’ve gone back in time.)

The scenery outside hadn’t changed, and it appeared that not much time had passed since I had lost consciousness in the cabin.

However, I was soaking wet, showing that it wasn’t a dream.

Mai: “Alright!”

(I need to go to him.)

I stood up, determined, when...

Motonari: “Sorry for the intrusion.”

Mai: “Motonari!”

Motonari opened the door with a kick and widened his eyes slightly when he saw me.

Motonari: “What were you doing?”

Mai: “Nothing. I went swimming.”

Motonari: “You mean you went for a dip in the sea at a time like this? You’re crazy.”

Mai: “I didn’t do it because I liked it, but it did clear my head.”

Mai: “More importantly, what do you want?”

(He’s in alliance with him, so maybe he’s got some kind of message.)

As I waited expectantly for Motonari’s response, I heard footsteps approaching again.

Subordinate 1: “Lady Mai! Are you okay一gyaah!”

Kicho’s subordinate jumped in and collapsed on the spot, his face contorted in pain.

Mai: “Eeeek!”

Motonari’s Subordinate: “Boss, we’ve cleaned up everything.”

Motonari: “You’re late.”

Motonari’s Subordinate: “He resisted, saying he never heard such instructions.”

Motonari: “I don’t need any excuses.”

(What does that mean?)

Almost shaken by what happened, I stepped back and distanced myself from Motonari and the others.

I wanted to escape, but they were blocking the entrance.

Mai: “Cutting him even though he resisted is awful. Aren’t you guys comrades?”

Motonari: “Ha? We’re not friends. We’re just temporarily working together because of our shared interests.”

Motonari: “So, if he gets in my way, I’ll kill him.”

Mai: "That's too much!"

Motonari: "You're no exception, princess."

Motonari: "Because of you, the crazy demon became human."

Mai: "Demon?"

(Could it be...)

Motonari: "You know him well. It's Kicho."

Motonari: "Ever since he got involved with you, he's been acting strange."

Motonari: "That's why we have to get rid of him for our plan."

Mai: "-----!"

Motonari: "Take her."

Motonari's subordinate: "Yes, sir."

Mai: "Let me go! No!"

(I need to get to Kicho right away!)

I twisted desperately to shake off the arm that Motonari's man had grabbed, but the difference in strength was obvious, and I felt a searing pain.

Mai: "Ouch."

Motonari: "Grow up. You don't want to end up like him, do you?"

Motonari glanced at Kicho's subordinate, lying on the floor.

Mai: "So where will you take me when I stop resisting?"

Motonari: "That's something you'll have to wait and see."

Mai: "If you do this, won't it cause a rift in the group?"

Motonari: "The opposite. When you're gone, he'll wake up."

Motonari chuckled, his eyes the same color as the blood spreading on the floor.

(I don't think I can escape on my own.)

(Kicho!)

At the same time一

Kicho: "..........."

Kicho suddenly frowned and stopped his horse.

Subordinate 1: "Lord Kicho, is something wrong?"

Kicho: "No, nothing serious. I'm just a little dizzy一Mai?"

For a moment, he felt some kind of memory flashing through his mind.

When he looked up, the sky remained the same color, but the slightest whiff of rain reached Kicho's nose.

Kicho: "Don't tell me..."

He regained his grip on the reins and was about to move on again when一

Mitsuhide: "Wait."

Mitsuhide appeared from among the trees, gun in hand.

Kicho: "Mitsuhide. Are you here to interfere with me again?"

Mitsuhide: "I'd say, of course, but there's one more thing."

Mitsuhide: "Have you seen Mai?"

Kicho: "I see. You've been following that woman."

Kicho: "Don't worry. She already contacted us."

Mitsuhide: "Is she okay?"

Kicho: "Yes, but she'll never return to the Oda army."

Kicho: “We move her to a place where no one can touch her.”

Subordinate 2: “Lord Kicho!”

Subordinate 2: “I have a report. Someone has taken Lady Mai!”

Kicho & Mitsuhide: “----!”

Kicho: “What do you mean?”

Subordinate 2: “I returned to the cabin after preparing the small boat, but there was no sign of her.”

Subordinate 2: “The man on guard was also unconscious after someone slashed his back.”

Mitsuhide: “Is there any possibility that Mai has escaped of her own free will?”

Subordinate 2: “Mitsuhide Akechi! How can you say something like that?”

Subordinate 2: “Are you sure you guys didn’t take her as a hostage again?”

Mitsuhide: “I see. It seems that there is a lot of mixed information out there, or are you really attached to that woman enough to make her worthy of being a hostage?”

Kicho: “I wonder about that. Either way, we don’t need to talk about that right now.”

Mitsuhide: “What matters is who took her?”

Mitsuhide: “For her sake, I’ll give you the right information this time.”

Mitsuhide: “It’s not the Oda forces. I can assure you of that.”

Kicho: “I assure you that we have no intention of spreading lies and causing confusion about this matter, either.”

Mitsuhide: “Oh? So you’re saying that a third party took her away?”

Subordinate 2: “By the way, I noticed that the area around the hut was wet. It was as if it had rained only there.”

Kicho: “Rain...?”

Kicho quickly reached into his pocket despite the gun pointing at him, but what his fingertips were looking for wasn’t there.

Kicho: “I see. If the future is destroyed, so is the life that was there.”

Kicho: “I’m going back to the port. You guys look for Mai.”

Subordinate 1: “Yes, sir.”

Mitsuhide: “Don’t move. I can’t let you get away from here.”

Kicho: “Then come with me.”

Kicho: “That woman, Mai, may not be here in Japan anymore.”

Mitsuhide: “What?”

Kicho & Mitsuhide: “Mai!”

When the two jumped into the cabin, it was, as they reported, empty.

Nothing remained but the bloodstains of his subordinate, who had already been carried away by his comrades.

Kicho: “I knew it.”

Mitsuhide: “Kicho. What do you mean, she’s not here in Japan?”

Kicho: “It exactly means what it says. Mai’s existence disappeared.”

Saying this, Kicho gently reached into his pocket, where there was nothing left but the perfume.

Mitsuhide: “Existence?”

Kicho: “That woman is from the future. Also, I know that future, too.”

Mitsuhide: “That sounds like a fictional story. What proof do you have?”

Kicho: “Only the knowledge I have in my head.”

Kicho: “If you don’t want to believe it, don’t. I’m not asking you to do that.”

Mitsuhide: “Then, if that were true, why did Mai disappear?”

Kicho: “It’s simple. This present is connected to the future.”

Kicho: “When the present changes, so does the future. It also affects those who live there.”

Kicho: “Mai is no exception.”

Previous Part╏Masterlist╏Gacha

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 43: The Big Game

The Story of a Family

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

The butterflies in Luigi’s stomach over finals were nothing compared to his anxiety over the big game.

Judging by the huge decorations draped all over the public buildings and the palpable air of excitement on campus, he was clearly not alone. It almost seemed that the games that weekend were a much more critical part of the university experience than the boring exams that had just ended.

It wasn’t only the students swept up in the excitement either. A decent number of townies, tourists, and fans had come out to join in the fun and cheer on their favorite team. This included most of Luigi’s close family members, even though he wasn’t sure he’d be playing that night. He had lost some ground as he’d struggled with his anemia and was still an alternate on the team, rather than a member of the starting lineup.

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

Luigi’s red-headed rival, on the other hand, had recently won a slot as a starter despite his injury and the encumbrance of that worn old support brace.

Beau had only just begun playing without his brace for short periods at practice, and yet he showed up to the evening’s matchup with both hands free. Coach Silva seemed worried about his decision, but the other Sim was adamant it wasn’t a problem and he’d play better without the restriction.

Unfortunately, he was only fine for the first few rounds. As the pressure and excitement of the tournament mounted, it became increasingly obvious Beau was in pain. After losing the team a critical point, he finally jumped up and ran over to the bench, gripping his injured wrist tightly.

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

When Beau told Professor Silva he could no longer play that night, their coach nodded and thanked the boy for standing down when he needed to.

Luigi’s heart first leaped than sank in his chest when the Prof turned to him as their best chance to hold the line against Britechester in the tight and hard-fought scuffle. He’d dreamed of this opportunity, but being the secret cause of his teammate tapping out made it a bitter win. Beau found a completely unexpected way to twist the knife by telling him to “knock em’ out sire” without even a hint of recrimination or insincerity.

Luigi was certain he wouldn’t have been as focused on the team’s success if their positions were reversed. Even as things stood, it was hard to put aside his guilt and anxiety to concentrate on taking over the still warm station of the sim he felt uncomfortably suspicious was, just then, the better man.

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

As Professor Silva went to grab an ice pack for poor Beau, Luigi did his best to confuse their foes with the unexpected shift of strategy and playstyle.

The real world and Luigi’s worries faded away as he settled into his usual gaming groove. He’d done this so many times in practice, he knew his team and was able to quickly be where they needed him time and again.

In the end Foxbury narrowly squeezed ahead of Britechester and Luigi stumbled from his station to celebrate with the others.

He was exhausted, but triumphant. For the first time in his early and unusual college career, he felt completely in tune with the entire team, reveling as comfortably with his rival and his coach as the teammates he knew better. In that moment Luigi was able to set his guilt aside and bask in the pride of a job well done.

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

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[kingsofeverything]

The lovely and talented @phd-mama tagged me to rec 5 fics of mine that I really like, so here they are:

Have a Nice Trip {6k E}

While Harry and his roommate Louis are stuck at home practicing social distancing, they decide to take a little trip to pass the time.

Harry’s obsessed with Louis’ ass and has a flair for speaking without thinking. My favorite part is the very last few lines, but I don’t want to spoil it, so just read it XD

Always a Bridesmaid {30k E}

While Harry’s friends are all getting engaged or married, he’s nowhere near walking down the aisle to his own happily ever after.

The night before his best friend’s wedding, Harry falls into bed with a silver haired stranger who makes him wonder what his own forever might look like.

I go back to this one often just because Louis and Harry are so smitten with each other. It’s instant! They’re so into each other! Plus Silver Fox Louis! One of my favorite parts:

“You’re telling me you don’t pick up younger men in bars every weekend, Louis?”

“No,” Louis scoffs, but then he grabs Harry’s hand and pulls him to a stop at the edge of the sidewalk. “Would it be a problem if I did?” Harry shakes his head, marveling at the feel of Louis’ hand in his. “Is it a problem that I don’t?”

Harry shakes his head again, staring at the shadow Louis’ eyelashes cast on his cheeks. It makes him feel special, but he keeps that to himself. “No.”

“Should I ask you the same question?”

“You can,” Harry says, though he doesn’t want to bore Louis with the mundane details of his life, he can’t help wanting to tell him everything. “You can ask me anything you want to know.”

Louis glances left and right, then squeezes Harry’s hand and points across the street. “Do you want ice cream?”

No Hold to Hold Onto {48k E}

Injured after being thrown from a bronc, Harry doesn’t know if he’ll ever compete again.

His only hope is a man called Tommo, a world champion rider who retired at the top of his game.

When Harry goes looking for help learning a new way to rope and ride, the last thing he expects to find is love.

My first ever historical fic! AND COWBOYS!!! I love this one so much and I wish it was more popular. One of my favorite parts:

“Sit,” Louis says, taking the chair across from Harry. He reaches for Harry’s hand, touch gentler than Harry expected as he guides him to lay it in the bowl. With the whiskey bottle poised to pour, he warns, “This’ll sting.”

“Yep. Yep, that stings,” Harry says, clenching his other hand into a fist and biting his lower lip as Louis pours whiskey over his blisters.

“You whine like a baby when that bronc busted your hand?” Louis asks, taking a swig out of the bottle and passing it to Harry.

“Ever heard a horse scream?” Harry asks, relaxing as the burning subsides. When Louis nods, Harry says, “Sounded like that.”

“You sayin’ you’re part horse?” Louis asks, and Harry gives a half hearted shrug. “That why your pecker’s as big as it is?”

Someone to Fly Home To {35k E}

Louis. 55 year old pilot who wants someone to fly home to.

Harry swipes right.

Or Louis and Harry’s marriage ended more than a decade ago, but fate keeps bringing them back together.

This fic was just supposed to be a little unfinished story I posted on Tumblr. I saw this post and had to write the scene where they realize they live in the same place. So the Tumblr ficlet is actually pretty far into the fic, but my favorite part is when Harry is babysitting their granddaughter and Louis helps get her to go to sleep. It’s just so sweet and Harry’s still so in love with his ex-husband.

Have Love, Will Travel {97k E}

Rather than spend the summer working at their desks, Louis and Harry are given the opportunity to crisscross the country together in a tiny camper, filming their adventures for a YouTube series.

It soon becomes obvious to their viewers that there’s something more than friendship between them. Eventually, they figure it out.

I wanted to write a camper fic for years before I wrote this one and I went through a million ideas. I’m so glad I got so obsessed with this idea lol it was super fast to write and so fun! The research was interesting and I loved watching videos of the parks and the activities that Louis and Harry did on their trip. The first half of this fic is all about pining and the second half is all about good communication! In my opinion, this is the perfect comfort fic.

Tagging these 5 people 💚 @louandhazaf @dinosaursmate @greenfeelings @mediawhorefics @juliusschmidt

[zegrvshvghes]

My Love for books (and you)- JD34

Jamie was never really the type to go to bookstores; he was more of a hockey kid and spent time playing video games. But one day, while out running errands, he found himself wandering into a quiet, independent bookstore that he had passed by many times before.

As he perused the aisles, Jamie's eyes landed on a young woman in the corner, engrossed in a book. Her dark hair was pulled back in a loose ponytail, and she wore a cozy sweater and jeans. Jamie couldn't help but notice how her eyes lit up with each sentence she read - the way she was fully immersed in the story.

He found himself drawn to her and wandered closer to peek at what book she was reading. It was a battered copy of "Pride and Prejudice," and Jamie couldn't help but smile to himself.

"Great choice," he said, trying to sound casual.

The woman looked up, slightly startled. "Oh, hi," she said, returning the smile. "Thanks. I've read it so many times, but I never get tired of it."

Jamie nodded, feeling a little bashful. "I'm Jamie, by the way."

she replied with her name, offering her hand.

They chatted for a while about books and life, and Jamie soon realized that he was smitten with her. They had a lot in common, and the conversation flowed effortlessly between them. As the conversation came to a natural end, Jamie found himself wanting to see more of her.

"Hey, do you want to grab some coffee or something? Maybe we could talk more about books," he asked, hoping she would say yes.

She smiled and nodded, and they left the bookstore together, feeling like old friends who just met. As they walked along the street, She told Jamie about her love for sports and video games, and they bonded over mutual interests.

It wasn't long before they were meeting up regularly, sharing their latest reads and exploring new coffee shops and bookstores together. Jamie couldn't believe how easy it was to be around her and how much he enjoyed spending time with her.

Their friendship blossomed into something more, and Jamie found himself falling head over heels for her. He loved how their conversations flowed easily and how she challenged him to try new things. He loved her quirky sense of humor and the way she looked at the world with wonder and curiosity.

As they sat in a cozy café, sipping their coffee, Jamie realized that he didn't want to imagine his life without her in it. He took a deep breath and looked at her, the words tumbling out before he could even think.

"I know we've only known each other for a few weeks, but... I feel like I've known you forever. I can't imagine not having you in my life." His voice wavered a little as he searched her face for a response.

Her eyes widened in surprise, but she didn't look unhappy. "Jamie, I...I feel the same way." She reached out and took his hand, squeezing it gently. "I know it might seem crazy, but I feel like we have something really special here."

Jamie felt his heart soar at her words, and they spent the rest of the afternoon talking about their hopes and dreams for the future. It didn't take long for them to realize that their future included each other - as partners, companions, and best friends.

From that day on, Jamie and her were inseparable. They traveled the world together, exploring new countries and cultures. They supported each other through thick and thin, always ready with a joke or encouraging word when the other needed it most.

Years later, they both looked back on that chance encounter in the bookstore with fondness and gratitude. They knew that fate had brought them together, and their love for each other only continued to grow with each passing year. As they sat together, reading books side by side, Jamie couldn't help but feel that this was exactly where he was meant to be - with the love of his life by his side, in a place that had once seemed so foreign and uninviting.

Different POV than usual, gotta love trying new things. also trying to post at least 1 fic for all of my sections in my masterlist.😭 gn

[whumpfessional]

Worst Anniversary

Time to start posting this story of Iris and Thalia getting kidnapped by a witch/undead hunter society! Iris and Thalia are (again) characters from Monster of the Week games that my partner and I play. They have helped write some of these so thank you G!

Let's begin with a little kidnapping.

CW: Alcohol reference, noncon drugging, kidnapping, magic kidnapping?

Thalia swung the door open into the night air, allowing Iris to pass through first. She paused a moment before passing through, the rum from earlier clouding her brain “You know what? I...really like our anniversary.” She admits, following after. “Even if it carries with it the horrible memory of Kenny’s polka-folk-punk band.”

Iris leaned on Thalia as they walked down the evening street, stepping over puddles in her tall boots. “I never understood why people would only want a DJ but,” she hiccuped a little, the taste of gin coming back to her, “I understood it after that rendition of Cherry Bomb.” She placed a kiss on Thalia’s cheek, leaning a little more heavily. 

Thalia smiled as the warmth from the kiss sunk into her cheek, supporting Iris as she leant against her. “Are you tipsy, Soganic?” She teased, squeezing her arm. 

“Mmm,” Iris hummed, “I think whoever made the drinks had a heavy pouring hand.” She licked her lips slightly, “not that I’m complaining.” Her hand slid over to Thalia’s neck, holding it from behind. “I would like to get home though.” She squeezed slightly. 

“Yeah, I mean-I didn’t have much but-“ she pulls them down a quiet street to begin the trek back to the apartment, veering them slightly off course for a moment in the turning. “-I’m also-I got a nice buzz going. Hey, did you know I’m in love with you?” She grinned uncharacteristically, feeling the hand behind her neck. 

“I always love to hear it,” Iris tilted over her head to bump it against Thalia’s. As they turned quickly, the world spun for a moment and she felt herself grabbing more tightly onto Thalia in order to stay upright. “Oh, shit. Maybe I had more than I meant to.” Iris looked around, the street appearing to sway slightly. 

Thalia gently grabbed onto her shoulders in support, frowning. “Hey, are you okay? Do we need to sit on the curb for a second? There’s slices nearby too I think…” she blinks a few times, also feeling unsteady. “That’s...weird…” an idea turns slowly over in her brain, and she closes her eyes in an attempt to sense any heartbeats that weren’t coming from the person in front of her.

No noises seemed to creep down the quiet street other than the dripping of pooled rain water off of the roofs and the sounds of the city in the background. Just Iris’s heart, pumping away beside her. As she paused for a moment, Thalia was able to notice Iris’s heart rate picking up slowly as she leaned more heavily on her partner. 

“A slice might be good.” Iris grinned through the dizziness, walking forward a few steps before tipping over slightly, catching herself against the wall. 

“Careful!” Thalia catches up to Iris, stumbling herself. “Shit, I….” she catches herself on the wall as well. “I think Some fucking creep must have put something in our drinks. I’ll….fuck…” she starts to fumble for the phone in her pocket.

“Fuuuck,” Iris moaned, leaning heavily. “Here,” She snapped her fingers together, attempting to conjure her flame. Nothing happened. Iris’s eyes flew open in panic as she reached for Thalia, “Babe, babe? My fire isn’t coming up.” She began looking wildly up and down the street, scanning for any signs of movement.

Thalia presses her back against Iris in a protective manner, looking around as well. Though she didn’t…. Feel too strong herself. “Shit, shit, fuck…” remembering herself, she pats for her phone in an empty pocket and her eyes widen in fear. “Someone….pickpocketed  kk….what the fuck?” She grabs Iris’ hand desperately, fighting to stand.

Iris patted her pockets too, no phone in sight. Clasping tight onto Thalia’s hand, she starts to pull her towards the main street up ahead. “We’ve got to get into a store or something.” She hissed, whipping her head around in order to try to spot something. The shadows appeared to grow longer, looming over them. 

“Right….Yeah, we just have to-get somewhere...public..” Thalia said, following. She twists her head to look at the shadows, unsure if it was the drug in her system or-

Iris feels a pull on her arm and heard a shriek as a shadow stretches its tendrils to engulf Thalia, sucking her into the blackness and suddenly muffling the scream.

“Thalia!” Iris screams, immediately trying to pull on her fire, to light up the shadows. But the moment she takes to bring her hands up is a moment too long and the shadows flow over, covering her completely. And then there is nothing. 

On hearing the screams, a student working late into the night pokes his head out his window, looking around the street. There is no one there, just the dripping of the water.

[wyverian-lady525]

How about a Lilia story with prompts #240 and #241 for a vampire S/O who also has a Malzeno Monsties, as a way to celebrate the release of MH Rise: Sunbreak?

I can try my best!💖

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

Vampire

Lilia spends some time with you and your malzeno monstie.

#240 "You've taken my heart with you."  

#241 “Please don't go, I love you so much.”

She never expected to fall for someone like you. In fact, Lilia never expected to meet someone like you. She’s only ever read about your kind in fairytales, and never expected to meet the supernatural in person.

I mean, you were an actual vampire.

Lilia met you by accident when she caught you feeding on some poor vermin you caught around the street corner. Her curiosity got the better of her, and Lilia surprised you by being one of the few to actually walk up to you.

“H-Hello...?” She was concerned, confused, but even more terrified when your malzeno leaped down from nearby in order to protect you.

“Wait!” You called out to your monstie, who froze at your words. Then you approached her slowly, cautiously. 

“W-What...what are you...?” She asked obviously afraid. You hesitated, she hasn’t screamed or tried to run yet. Perhaps...she could be your first friend beside your malzeno.

“I’m Y/N...a vampire.” You told her slowly, and her eyes widened. However, she seemed in awe instead of in fear.

“...I’m Lilia...” She told you shyly, a slight smile on her face.

That’s how it started between you and her. 

From then on, you would spend the evenings with her, telling her about your life and kin. She was surprised to find out that you practically had the lifespan of a wyverian, even though you looked human. You were practically immortal and fed on the blood of others to survive. However, you wanted to live in peace, so you tried to only feed on things that people wouldn’t miss, like vermin.

“I’m just a savaged blood-crazed monster to some...unworthy of any love...” You confessed to her, and you were surprised to find Lilia grabbing your cold hands. You let out a sigh.

“That’s why my malzeno and I get along so well...we both need the lives of others to prolong our own...we just bonded...two monsters alone in this world.” You said to her, and she squeezed your hands.

“What if you didn’t have to be alone anymore...” She whispered to you.

You see, you and Lilia had fallen for each other. However, the need to drink and feed on blood was strong. And if it wasn’t you, it was your malzeno who longed to hunt better game than rats on the street. But when you nearly killed a wyverian one night after smelling his blood, you knew it was time to head out.

“Why are you leaving?” Her voice surprised you one evening. You were in the middle of packing as your malzeno anxiously awaited by the door.

“It’s for your safety...but before you protest, I have something to tell you...” You said to her, clutching some of your clothes in your hands. The commander waited patiently as you struggled to find the courage to speak.

You’ve never had to say something like this to anyone before.

"You've taken my heart with you." You told her in a loving tone as you stopped packing to face her. Lilia nearly felt tears in her eyes when you said this and looked down towards the ground to avoid crying.

“I was a monster before you came along...you made me feel whole.” You told her sadly, and Lilia wiped at her eyes. 

“I’m glad...but...” She sniffled a bit, causing you to frown. However, you knew you had to leave town, or both of your lives were in jeopardy.

So, you continued to pack your things as your malzeno watched intently. You knew he was just as thirsty as you were if not more. Your monstie needed the life force of others to survive as well.

Guess you guys do make a perfect pair.

“I know this is hard...but it’s for your safety.” You told her as you flung your bag over your shoulder and headed to the doors with your malzeno close behind you.

However, Lilia stopped you. 

“Please don't go, I love you so much.” She practically begged you, holding onto your arm. With a sigh, you pried her off you before moving to place your hands on her shoulders.

“Lilia, I just need some time away in order to keep people from becoming suspicious.” You tried to explain to her. Not being a wyverian, people found your not aging thing a bit weird. Plus, you only come out at night.

“But-” She tried to say, but you interrupted her.

“I will return.” You promised her, bringing her in for a hug. Your malzeno soon growled, signaling that it was time to head out once more. Reluctantly, you pulled away from the hug and flashed her one last smile before heading out the door.

Just as you were accepting your leaving, and the dry feeling in your throat returned, you heard someone call your name.

“Y/N!” Both you and your malzeno turned to see Lilia running towards you. She stopped a few paces before you, and without explanation, pressed her lips to yours.

“See you soon.” She breathed afterwards before rushing off again, knowing it would hurt to look at you anymore. You, however, were frozen in place.

And for once, you didn’t feel thirsty for blood.

[feastfic]

Hi yes hello it's me again, i have returned from binging videos made in honor of Faker and now I'm crying and shaking. I loved his character so much and it's heartbreaking. On that note, how do you think it'll go down if the data in his cartridge was falling apart and someone who collects old games saves him and manages to bring him to the real world?

On a happier note, I have a headcanon that his pupils grow and shrink to represent a different emotion like that of a cat, I dunno i thought it would be cute.

It's very cute indeed 🥺 like I believe I said last time it's some of my favorite headcanons ever for Faker for real 😅

BUT MANNNNNNN his code falling apart would probably be...well, why don't you take a look yourself :)? (And just for fun, this will be a sort of sequel/follow-up to the last Faker post!)

It'd been a while, and things seemed to be going okay. With the worn label in hand, you'd done as much research as you could on the source. Where this faker Sonic came from. What was the story behind him? Who made him?

You'd found out through hours of digging through ancient files and posts, scant discussions hidden in the seedy underbelly of the internet, that this Faker was made as an attempt to make a mean jab at promotions for Sonic. A cruel bootleg meant to terrify the young children that weren't observant to notice the difference between official and forgery.

Maybe it was because he was a cheap money-mongering copy that he was so poorly constructed. After only a few bootings-up of the game his code began unravelling. Skips in the gameplay, distorted textures and visuals. Faker knew what was happening. And — his explosive introduction long stilled by your readiness to talk to him like he were human — he looked to you for help. He would turn to you and be immobilized, both because he physically couldn't with the rotting state of the cartridge, and the animal nature of being afraid of death.

It felt like a race against time, and you didn't know what to do. Every other thing you'd hastily done hadn't worked, and it felt like you were only exacerbating the decay of the cartridge with each failure.

He waited, and from the other side tried to free himself as well. This game was too far gone now; missing pieces of himself burned his skull, his skin — with each minute inside the world eating itself into nothingness he himself felt himself becoming nothing with it. It hurt to feel his being fall apart along with everything else. Help him. Help him get out of this pain.

Pull him out, hold his hand. Just like that. Blur the lines of your worlds long enough to set him free. Make the impossible happen.

Your head was spinning and static filled your ears as you gave into your final act of salvation. You grabbed onto him, like your screen were made of gelatin. His wrist was held tight in your hand, and you pulled on him while he pushed the boundaries of your reality. Since his own was no longer habitable. Both of his hands gripped onto your forearm, liking he were clinging to you because his life depended on it. It did, it did and he was desperate to be let go in a world that ran no risk of shattering.

Hisses filled the room as more of him met the air, his body contorting to look less unnatural. More like he belonged in your world. His body was halfway through, and with both arms free from the melting of the cartridge he squeezed your torso tight with them. Then it was so much easier to pull the rest of him out, and you both fell back as the violent ambience slowly calmed back down. Until only the TV played the garbled, discordant, sad and pathetically terrifying notes of what was once a song.

Faker's body heaved on top of you, his fur slicked to his body with some kind of transparent film, like the entrance of a new world was quite literally like a rebirth. You'd just have to wash it out later. You needed a second right now.

"I've got you." Your heart pounded in your chest, and you both just laid there for a minute to process what just happened. "I've got you." You said it again, as if to confirm your first statement.

He continued to hold tight onto you, until you sat yourself up and he slid down onto your lap. Even in a tangible form he didn't speak, simply moving his hands along your body like he were in some kind of trance. You reciprocated it by brushing your fingers against his arms — softening up as that film dried up the longer he stayed exposed to the air.

It was hard to pin the exact emotion you saw on his face, but if you had to guess, it was elation. Pure, sheer elatedness at being free, being safe from a world that had started tearing him apart. His eyes trailed up to you, pitch dark pupils rapidly expanding as he took in your face. You could see your own features reflected in them, and you couldn't stop yourself from smiling a little. "You're welcome."

Look at you, how lucky you must be! The first and probably the only person who'll ever get to say that you pulled someone from a game, and saved their life in the process.

But now you had to guide, lead him through a world that would not be ready to accept him, teach him on his own what was safe and what wasn't. He needed you. At least, for now.

[littlemisspascal]

Mailroom Crush Part 6

Pairing: Javier Peña x Female Reader

Word Count: 3500+

Summary: A story about Reader who works in the mailroom of the embassy and her encounters with a handsome, brown-eyed DEA agent.

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst, making out, anxious Reader, consumption of grilled cheese sandwiches and alcohol, Spanish translation at the end, this is only loosely based on canon of Season 3 so the timeline does not 100% match the show’s

Author Note: Thank you everybody for your amazing support and encouragement! I appreciate every word and I hope y’all enjoy this segment 💝

PART 5 | PART 7

It’s a typical, unnoteworthy Wednesday when Javier decides to surprise you by asking you out. You find him leaning against your car when you leave the embassy, looking like a cover model with his tousled hair and form-fitting clothes. The smile that lights up his face when he sees you nearly has you face-planting onto the asphalt, knees going weak when confronted with such heartstopping beauty. 

And then you’re kissing him. You aren’t sure if you leaned in first or if he did—maybe it was a mutual leaning in—resulting in a soft, chaste kiss between a boyfriend and a girlfriend on a cool midsummer evening. 

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Javier says when he pulls away, grabbing ahold of your hand and tangling his fingers with yours. 

This close you can see the spattering of freckles along Javier’s throat, feel the warmth of his breath upon your cheeks. Unable to concentrate, you blink at him dazedly. “What?”

“I’m taking you out tonight,” Javier repeats, the corner of his mouth lifting up. “I know this nice little hole in the wall with the best food in the whole city.”

“Oh,” you say, heart performing a nervous flip in your chest. “You–You mean like a date?”

“Well, I just thought it’d be nice seeing each other outside of the embassy,” he says in a rush, glancing down at his shoes with a frown. “If you’ve already got plans or you just don’t want to then I understand. We—”

“I do want to, Javi,” you interrupt, squeezing his hand. “It’s just…”

He raises an eyebrow when you trail off with a grimace. “What?”

You gesture with your free hand towards your clothes. They’re rumpled from a long day spent speed-walking up and down the embassy corridors trying to locate the ambassador’s staff in order to have them sign an important document, and there’s also a mysterious stain on the hem of your shirt you’re not sure the origins of. God, you must look like a total mess right now.

Javier catches your chin and gently tilts your head up to meet his gaze again. Your breath catches when you see the fondness of his expression, no hint of teasing or impatience. “Tesoro, you’re always beautiful.”

Your lips curl into a bashful smile and your shoulders lose some of their stiffness, but your self-doubt stubbornly persists, refusing to be silenced by a few sweet words. “Javi…”

He tilts his head, gaze roaming across your face in search of something you don’t know. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, mouth opening and closing hesitantly before he finally says, “Do you like grilled cheese?”

Baffled by the subject change, you simply nod your head. 

“My apartment’s about ten minutes from here. Would you…” Javier clears his throat, looking anywhere but your face now. “Would you like to come over and have sandwiches?” A brief pause. “With me?”

Maybe it’s the shy, awkward way in which he asks, or maybe your selfish desire to be different than Javier’s past sexual conquests is clouding your judgement, but either way you can’t help but think he doesn’t invite people over often. The mere idea that you could be the first to see his home, his place of escape outside the hectic world of cartels and political mind games, fills your stomach with a fluttery sensation of excitement. 

You nod again, giddy and so totally gone for this man. “Yes, I would, Javi,” you tell him, leaning forward to press another kiss against his lips. His eyes are half-lidded when you pull away, like he’s just as enamored as you feel, and something pleasantly warm starts weaving itself through your rib cage and around your heart. Love, maybe, but you don’t dare speak its name aloud. 

“Sounds like a perfect first date to me,” you say instead, playfully nudging your nose against his to seal the deal.

That earns you a beaming grin, crow’s feet appearing along the corners of his eyes. “Only the best for my girl.”

~~

You spend the short drive to Javier’s apartment giving yourself a pep talk. “It’s just grilled cheese sandwiches,” you say when braking at a stoplight, tapping your fingers anxiously against the steering wheel. “No more, no less.”

Except…what if it does turn out to be more? It’s been a long time since your last relationship, what if the rules of dating have changed in the interim? Worse, what if Javier is expecting there to be more? And what if he becomes upset when he finds out you’re not ready for more? What if— 

The honking of an impatient driver behind you interrupts your stream of worrisome thoughts. You keep on driving, doing your best to focus on the traffic instead of your racing heartbeat. I’m fine, I’m fine, I’m fine.

Parking on the street outside of Javier’s apartment, you sit in your car for a long moment, holding onto your keys in a clenched fist so tight you can feel the metallic grooves digging into your palm. You peer out the window, up at the beige and white complex. It’s a nice place, but like most apartment buildings, including your own, it lacks a warm and inviting aura.

You give yourself one last look-over in the mirror, pasting a too-wide smile on your face to conceal your nerves, and then you’re on your way to experience your first date with Javier, praying it doesn’t also turn out to be your last.

~~

Javier’s apartment is the definition of nondescript. There are no photographs on the walls or pinned to the fridge with magnets. No plants in the windowsill or unread mail out on the counter. The furniture looks like it’s been here for years, left behind by the previous occupants. 

You think of your own apartment, of its mismatched assortment of furniture and accessories bought cheaply at shops and street markets. Of your little collection of movies stacked next to the television and pictures of your family members preserved in cute rectangular frames lining the living room wall. A stranger could walk inside your home and leave knowing a dozen facts about your life. The same cannot be said about Javier’s.

Honestly the only clue in the room that gives the impression Javier even lives here is the bookshelf in the corner overstuffed with books on true crime and new methods of criminology. You run your finger over each spine, silently reading the titles while Javier starts preparing to make the sandwiches in the kitchen, humming under his breath. 

You pull out Truman Capote’s In Cold Blood from its place in-between Edwin Sutherland’s Principles of Criminology and the biography of Dr. Edmond Locard, noticing the abundance of dog-eared pages. A quick flip-through reveals several passages highlighted or underlined or sometimes both, confirming your suspicion this is a favorite of Javier’s. You smile to yourself, tucking away the piece of information in the corner of your mind where the rest of the precious details you know about Javier are safely stored. 

Javier’s kitchen is too small for two people to comfortably move around in without bumping into each other with every turn. Upon realizing this, you take a seat on the other side of the bar, idly swinging your legs while watching him generously butter slices of bread. There’s something strangely mesmerizing about watching him wield the knife, scraping at the yellow square until every inch of the bread is thoroughly covered. You wonder how many times he’s done this. If it’s another favorite of his.

“My mamá taught me there was an art to making a grilled cheese sandwich,” Javier explains without pausing his task, as if reading your mind. “I ate them all the time growing up.”

“Could you teach me?” you ask, keeping your voice purposefully light. Rarely does Javier mention his mother and you don’t want to accidentally cross a boundary. “Most attempts I make at cooking turn out looking like charcoal. Give me a head of lettuce and some vegetables though and I can chop you up the best salad of your life.”

Javier glances up at you with a smirk. “Yeah? I might have to take you up on that offer.” You smile back shyly, resting your chin on your palm and listening as he gestures towards the skillet resting on the stovetop behind him, explaining, “Lesson number one, tesoro, is to cook the bread on low heat. You remember that, you’ll be golden.” He snorts, eyes shining with amusement. “Get it? Golden?”

You groan, shaking your head at him. For all his good looks and thoughtful insights, his sense of humor is an ever-changing trait depending on his mood. Sometimes darkly sarcastic while brooding over a cup of coffee, other times lighthearted and punny like the kind of jokes found on the back of sugary cereal boxes. “That was terrible, Javi.”

“I am going to ignore that rude remark,” he says with a sniff, pointing the butterknife at you because he’s ridiculous, “since it’s time for your second lesson.”

He sets down the knife and grabs two bread slices, holding them up in front of you with a wide grin. 

“Thanks,” you say, only a little bit sarcastic, privately thinking he looks like a little boy excited for show and tell at school. “You’re too sweet to me, Javi darling.”

Javier fumbles with one of the bread slices, nearly dropping it on the floor. “O-Of course, tesoro,” he says, voice coming out strangled sounding. He blinks a few times, seeming to regain control of himself. “Now, watch carefully, okay?” 

He lowers one of the pieces of bread onto the skillet butter-side-down. He pulls a slice of cheddar cheese free from its packaging and sets it on top of the bread, waits a few seconds, then places the second piece of bread on top of the cheese. It’s so quiet in the room, you feel like you’re in the middle of a documentary, almost expecting to hear David Attenborough’s voice start narrating Javier’s movements.

When the bread turns a light brown color, he flips the sandwich over with an easy gracefulness you don’t think you could ever mimic. A few minutes later, with both sides golden and the smell of melted cheese filling the air, he slides your sandwich on a plate over the bar.

“Ta-da!” Javier announces, looking proud of his achievement, but your eyes don’t miss how his hands twitch nervously against his sides. “Un sándwich de queso a la parrilla para mi chica.”

“Hmm, lemme get a good look at this.” You teasingly make a show of slowly turning the plate this way and that, observing the sandwich from all angles like a contest judge. It looks far more appetizing than anything you’ve tried to cook, not one hint of burnt texture anywhere to be found, and your mouth can’t help but water in anticipation of eating it. “Well, Mr. Peña, consider me very impressed. I’ll give you an A for presentation.”

“I’m honored.” Javier bows his head humbly before he gestures towards the plate with an impatient look. “Now would you please take a bite and tell me how it tastes before I lose my mind.”

You roll your eyes, but indulge his demand, taking a large bite of the sandwich. The flavor combination of melted cheese, butter, and toasted bread fills your mouth, coating your tastebuds, and you accidentally let slip a low groan as you chew.

“Oh my God,” you say after swallowing, unable to recall eating a better tasting sandwich, and promptly take another, bigger bite. “This is so delicious.”

Of course, with how your cheeks are currently stuffed with food like a chipmunk, your words come out sounding something like thit isso delisus. 

Still, Javier seems to understand purely based on your happy expression and the way you’re scarfing down more bites of the grilled cheese. Some of the tension in his body loosens, a smile blooming on his face, and he says, “Good to hear. Give me ten minutes to make a few more and then, uh, I guess we’ll see where the evening takes us.”

The food in your mouth abruptly tastes like ash as a pang of nervousness strikes you square in the chest. Is he flirting? Maybe that’s his master plan, seducing me with food so I’ll spend the night. Or maybe…maybe I’m overthinking things and he’s making innocent conversation.

You set the uneaten crust down on the plate, appetite lost for the moment. “What do you have in mind?”

“Honestly?” He looks at you over his shoulder, mid-motion of preparing a second grilled cheese, one eyebrow arched. “I was hoping we could talk.”

“Talk?” you repeat, positive you misheard him.

To your surprise, the tips of Javier’s ears turn red with uncharacteristic bashfulness. He fumbles for words for a moment, then waves a flippant hand, a forced chuckle pushed out of his throat.

“Yeah, you know, talking,” he says, and maybe he would have appeared nonchalant if not for the restless drumming of his fingers on the counter and his tremulous voice. “I heard people still do that on first dates.”

You lean back in your seat, unable to mask your surprise. “What,” you begin, hesitantly. “What do you want to talk about?”

Javier directs his gaze towards the skillet once more, laying down a bread slice to start cooking while simultaneously hiding his face from your scrutiny. “It’s probably obvious, but I’m not good at this. Dating, I mean. It’s been a long time since I met somebody I wanted to know better. And even then, it didn’t exactly turn out great.”

“I’m not exactly an expert on dating either, Javi.” Your mouth twists sympathetically. “But maybe we could figure out what works for us? You know, together.”  

“Together sounds perfect, tesoro,” he agrees with a nod and warm smile. 

Ten minutes later, the two of you sit side by side on his living room couch, a plate full of grilled cheese sandwiches and a couple of beers within easy reach on the coffee table. Good food and good company, you honestly couldn’t ask for a better first date.

“So, what do you want to talk about?” This time there isn’t an undercurrent of trepidation in your voice when you ask the question. There’s no reason to be scared when it’s just you and him, figuring things out step by step. Together.

Javier takes a sip of his beer, seeming to think about it for a moment, forehead scrunching. 

“Anything and everything, tesoro,” he answers at last. “Whatever comes to mind.”

~~

“The whole toilet was covered in golden angels and shit,” Javier says, and insists over the sound of your wheezing laughter, “I’m telling you the truth, tesoro. I saw that fucking thing myself in La Catedral.” He tilts his head, smirking. “Used it, too.”

“Javi, you didn’t.”

“Of course I did. You really think I’d pass up the once in a lifetime opportunity to piss in the gold toilet of a world-famous drug lord?”

~~

“Fuck no. You can’t be serious right now.”

“What? The Monkees are a valid choice,” you say, torn between defending yourself and bursting into laughter. 

“Not when the question was do you prefer the Beatles or the Rolling Stones!” Javier counters grumpily, shaking his head like you’ve just given him the worst news of his life.

“I liked their tv show,” you tell him, and when he lets out a derisive snort, you tap a finger against your chin, mock thoughtful. “How’d the theme song go again?”

“Don’t—”

“Here we come, walkin’ down the street–”

“I swear tesoro, so help me—”

You keep singing, purposefully pitching your voice louder than his protests. “We get the funniest looks from–”

Javier chucks a pillow at you, putting an end to your impromptu living room concert.

You laugh so hard you nearly roll onto the floor.

~~

“You know, back in the kitchen,” Javier starts, words leaving his mouth slowly, a hint of a smile curling at the corners of his mouth, “you called me ‘Javi darling.’”

“I did?” You bite your lip, unsure how to feel about that. Shouting your feelings for him from a rooftop would have been a subtler approach than calling him such an affectionate nickname.

He nods his head. “Yeah.”

“Oh, well,” you scratch the back of your head, “I’m sorr—”

“I liked it.”

“—ry. Wait, what?”

He nods again, smile widening yet still soft around the edges, full of fondness. “I like it. I like being the only one you call that just like I’m the only one who calls you tesoro.”

You don’t have the heart to tell him about Stechner’s attempt at poisoning the nickname when he’d visited the mailroom. No, really, your heart is currently melting into a puddle right now, completed wooed by Javier’s sweet declaration.

“So, it’s settled then,” you say, laughter slipping into your voice as a thought occurs to you. “We’re going to be one of those disgustingly affectionate couples with cute nicknames for each other. Riley’s going to start writing poetry about us.”

“Oh yeah, did I ever tell you she threatened to staple a whole list of my most sensitive body parts together if I ever upset you again?”

“Oh my God.”

“Right?” Javier says, shuddering as he recalls the traumatic encounter. “For someone so small, she’s fucking terrifying—”

“I need to buy her a cake or something to thank her.”

“What.”

~~

You’ve been rambling about a documentary on butterflies you saw last week for five whole minutes and Javier hasn’t looked away from you once. His eyes flicker between watching your gesticulating hands, mouth tilted up like he finds your movements entertaining, and watching your face. Your whole face, not just your mouth as some of your previous dates were prone to do.

You try not to trip over your words or lose concentration, but it’s challenging because Javier is mere inches away, looking at you, and you’re still not used to being seen. It’s almost an intoxicating sensation, having someone as intense and mysterious and beautiful as Javier interested in plain, unremarkable you. 

Distracted by your thoughts, you don’t realize you’ve stopped talking until Javier’s leaning closer, squinting to see you better. The dim lighting of the nearby table lamp highlights half of his face, that one brown eye molten and piercing. Your breath catches in your throat.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asks softly, one of his large hands curling around your knee.

You stare back at him, thinking, Because you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. And immediately after that, you wonder if maybe you’re not the only one unused to being seen. It’s an idea that makes your heart ache.

“Haven’t you heard?” you answer after a moment, leaning further into his orbit to lay a hand on the side of his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. “I’ve got a crush on you.”

“What a coincidence.” Javier presses a kiss to your palm. “I’ve got a crush on you, too.”

“Is that why you look at me?” you blurt out before you can think about the potential consequences and future embarrassment of asking such a stupid question. 

Javier freezes, lips still pressed against your skin.

To say you’re flustered is an understatement. No, you’re leagues past the state of flustered and well into the pit of mortification. Your heart is racing, your stomach has dropped somewhere on the floor near your shoes, and you’re torn between leaping out the window or sprinting for the door—unsure which escape attempt would put a quicker end to your misery.

You’re startled out of your thoughts by urgent lips slamming against yours. You react on instinct alone, your other hand wrapping around the back of his neck and tugging at the hair there. It’s not like the kiss you shared in the parking lot earlier, there’s nothing chaste or gentle about this, just something desperate and insistent, like he’s trying to convey a message from his soul to yours.

“Javi darling,” you manage to gasp out between kisses, squeezing his shoulder, “I need words. I need to know–”

He tears himself away with a low growl of frustration, pinning you with a look of such fierce intensity you’re struck silent. “Fuck,” he says in reaction to whatever expression is on your face right now. He leans back in again, like he just can’t help himself, nose brushing against yours before he tilts his head up to press a searing kiss against your forehead. “Tesoro, sweetheart, isn’t it obvious why I look at you?”

Your eyes connect with his. A sudden tension grows between you two, like his words have created a gap and the only way to cross it is to understand what he’s not explaining. It feels like time has frozen, granting you this fragile moment to collect your thoughts, except there’s nothing in your head except Javier.

And all at once, like a switch has been flipped, you understand. It shouldn’t be possible without words, but you do. Because it really is as obvious as Javier said it was.

That unspoken feeling you’ve been holding in your heart, a four-letter word you haven’t found the courage to say, worrying it’s too soon, that it will scare him away—

He feels it, too.

__

Un sándwich de queso a la parrilla para mi chica. -- A grilled cheese sandwich for my girl.

[godsleastfavoritewriter]

Good Girl

Relationship: gamer!Kate Bishop x Reader

Summary: AWOOGA WOOF WOOF

Warnings: if you look with heart eyes it’s all fluffy… right? Smut, pet play, exhibitionist, DS relationship

AN: I WILL FINISH AND ADD MORE LATER!! My favorite Kate stories are gamer/streamer Kate and sugar daddy kate so I have to wip sum up cause I can never get enough of her

Although you already knew Kates streaming schedule by heart some days you would simply just forget. Her set up was in the bedroom and usually you just stayed in the background on your phone or avoided going to the room at all but you were too entranced listening to your favorite true crime podcast that you forgot she was streaming. As you listened in on the new episode with your soundproof headphones you played a game on your phone as the same time. Un phased by the screaming of Kate losing you changed your outfit. You were lucky that Kate saw you in the corner and quickly moved her camera so you didn’t flash the entire internet.

Kate let you change into a new outfit, as she knew you wanted to go shopping later. But she wasn’t hesitant to end the stream early. As she finished up talking to the viewers she saw you lay on the bed still listening and playing on your phone. You were completely oblivious to the world around you. Kate couldn’t stop the butterflies she felt in her stomach as she quietly walked your way. You looked stunning in your little skirt and cute lace bralette to match. She quietly grabbed the collar on top of the bed side table. Slowly, to not disturb you she straddled your back and placed the collar on you. You paused the podcast and took off the headphones, smiling gently at Kate. She kissed your cheek before whispering in your ear, “Did you know I was streaming or did my dumb puppy forget again.” She kissed your ear and you whimpered at her voice. “I- I forgot. I’m sorry.” Kate moved so she could sit properly with her back on the headboard. She patted her chest, a small geusture for you to get closer to her. Of course you obliged, you sat with your back on her chest, she played with your hair as you got more comfortable. She pushed your hair back behind your ear, placing a gentle kiss before speaking softly, “Did you still want to go shopping today pup?” You couldn’t help but smile at the nickname letting yourself slip into that beautiful headspace. “Yes please, daddy.” You tilted your head to the side to show more exposed skin she could kiss. Without a second passing her lips connected to that sweet spot on your neck, leaving a beautiful bruise. You could feel your heartbeat quicken as she let her hands roam your body. Her hands found their perfect place in your chest, as she fondled the soft mounds in her hands. Soft whines and whimper escaped as you squeezed your thighs together, already feeling a dampness starting to form. Kate slipped her skilled hands under your bralette as she spoke to you once again, her voice lower than usual and laced with lust. “Why don’t we play a game today.” She softly bit your ear before continuing. “If you’re good and put on a nice show, I’ll let you get whatever you want today. But if you disappoint them” she grabbed your face forcing you to look straight into the camera that she placed perfectly to see the bed. “You’ll have to be punished.” You couldn’t help but moan when she made you realize you were being watched. You didn’t mind at all, in fact you quite liked putting on a show, knowing that even though other people might drool over you Kate is the only one who you’ll ever want and the only one who will own you.

You propped yourself up more, pushing yourself closer to Kate so you could feel her warmth. You looked directly into the camera as you spread your legs, exposing your damp sex. “Good girl, what a good dumb mutt you are, hmm?” She hummed huskily as she left more hickies and bites on your neck. She skillfully removed your top, fully exposing you to the camera and to Kate herself. “You’re so beautiful cupcake, I could just eat you up. But I think you would enjoy that too much.” You moaned at her words and instinctively pushed your thighs back together, craving friction. Kate chuckled deeply as one hand snuck towards your knees pushing your legs apart again. She pulled the back of your collar forcing you closer to her. “You need to be good puppy, I would hate to have to punish you in front of all of these people. Don’t you wanna show how good you are for me.” She moved her own legs so yours were now wrapped around Kates own legs. She stretched your legs further apart from eachother as one hand made it’s way down to your clothes core. Making slow and painfully light circles around your clit. “Don’t you want them to see just how dumb you are for me? Come on sweet heart, show them how much you desperately need me.” Her pull on your collar was released as you started mindlessly grinding on her hand. Soft moans were released from your lips as you chased her fingers. Another deep chuckle escaped the dark haired girl as snuck her hand into your panties to play with your throbjng clit. You threw your head back in pleaser as you let her have her way with you. All you could muster to say was a simple, soft and helpless, “Please, daddy” as Kate left more marks across your neck.

Her hand came to a halt and you whined stop the loss of friction and movement. “What do you want pup, what does the poor mutt want.” Kate let her hands roam your body as she spoke avoiding every area you wanted her to touch the most. You faced her as you looked into her eyes. Her pupils were dilated and you looked at her with the most pleading puppy eyes you could give. In a sort of whisper moan you finally answered, “You, I want you in whatever way you’ll have me.” Kate took no time to meet your soft demands. Quickly she moved your bodies around, forcing your head to be squished into the mattress with you on your knees so your ass was perfectly propped up. She kissed up you back before she grabbed the hair at the base of your head, forcing you to look. “That’s what I like to hear my sweet mutt.” She kissed you passionately as she drove her hips forward forcing you to feel the strap she wore under her joggers. You couldn’t help but let out a moan. She let go of you so she could pull her pants down just enough to expose the strap, she let the tip tease your entrance before she grapped your hips and slammed you into the toy. She grabbed your wrists as she let you adjust to the size of her, holding your hands behind your back she started a slow pace. You were starting to drool into the bed, completely lost in the feeling of her inside of you. She picked up the pace more as she pushed you deeper into the mattress, the angle hitting that perfect spot just, well perfectly. Kate couldn’t help but love the way you sounded and looked when you were like this. You were completely gone, and completely hers. She loved it and would do anything she could to make you moans, whines, and whimpers, never ending.

You were a mess, only being able to muster out soft pleases as she pounded into you. Kate let go of your hands as she grabbed you by the hair again, this time pulling up towards her, your own hands flung behind you to try to keep yourself steady as she continued to use you. She used her other hand to play with your clit again, she new you were close and wanted to be able to see your perfect face in the camera for when you finally did come undone. “Such a good pet, come for me baby.” She was quick to work, going harder and fAster for you. You felt your body shock as you orgasm hit you. Instantly going limp Kate caught you before you could flop onto the bed. Slowly she brought you down from the high.

[littlefreya]

As I was saying

Summary: You recently found out that you’re pregnant and Henry is being all sorts of over-protective and annoying about it and won’t shut up about what you should or shouldn’t eat. So you find a creative way to shut him up...

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Reader (no description of body type or ethnicity thought it’s mention that Henry is taller)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: 18+, RPF, fluff to smut, early pregnancy, blow job, bodily fluids, slight FemDom/SubMale, My overuse of poetic sex metaphors, cottagecore!

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or parts from it.

A/N: This story was born out of a convo I had with my sweet @the-soot-sprite​ about the photo above. Many thanks to @agniavateira​ my solid rock who betas all my work and to @firefly-graphics​ for the dividers

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed my story. I work hard on each one of them and your validation means the world to me. 🖤

As I was Saying

Henry’s velvety voice carried through the cottage like seductive vapours of honey liqueur. It wasn’t often that he'd sing a blissful tune so casually out of the blue—after earth-shattering sex perhaps, which indeed you had the night before. However, this morning, his chants were laced with a new flavour of sugary bliss. 

Two little pink stripes. That's all it took for his eyes to shimmer the way precious cobalt is kissed by a moonlight glow.

Sneaking about in the mien of a curious little mouse, you trod after the pleasant tune of his voice, which was now accompanied by a soft rustle. Wander laved your face once you leaned against the kitchen door frame, peering at the prodigious man who stood in front of the open fridge. 

Preoccupied, he appeared to be ransacking through the shelves with the song ‘Cheek to Cheek’ thrumming on his tongue.

“Heaven... I'm in heaven…”  

Fingers clutching at the edge of the wall, you pressed into the chilled surface with a relaxed smirk, lingering on the irresistible view when your ease of mind faded with a blink of an eye — while methodically rummaging through the fridge, Henry threw fresh food straight into an open trash can.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice rising to a high-pitched yip. 

Henry made a soft flex; the muscles of his back rippled in a tidal motion. Though acknowledging your presence, he proceeded to hover a finger over different products. 

“Cleaning up the fridge," he answered absentmindedly.

With a soft shove, there went your French cheese. 

“That’s brand new!” you protested and rushed toward him, alarmed. 

Towering over the trash can, you considered diving in to salvage the precious bulk of cheese from the dreary pit. Henry glanced at you from the corner of his eyes, testing your resolve while his claw grabbed some papaya salad leftovers and pushed it over the edge of the shelf, joining the rest of the discarded meals. 

“It is,” he nodded and closed the refrigerator door, carrying on to the high cabinets. With a slight wrinkle between his brows and a hand scratching the stubbles of his dimpled chin, he narrowed his eyes to scrutinise the items carefully. “I'm pregnant-proofing the kitchen. I called Hanna while you were asleep. She created a proper daily menu for you with the dos and don’ts: less sugar, more veggies and protein.” 

It took you a moment to process his words, your eyes narrowing while asking, “Hanna? As in Hanna, your nutritionist?”

Henry nodded at your question, a faint crease lining his cheek. “That’s the one. Don't worry, princess, she specialises with pregnant women.”

Unwittingly, a somewhat inhuman growl sounded in your chest. You were only getting used to the idea of developing another person inside you, and here stood your husband, already seeing fit to dictate your diet. Slithering into the narrow space between the heavy man and the counter, you tilted your chin to meet his stare while your fists pressed into your hips assertively. 

“Listen here, Cavill! You might have jizzed me one too many and succeeded in putting a baby in there, but this is still my body. I can take care of my own pregnancy diet.”

With an arm stretched above your head, Henry offered a charming display of pearly whites to pacify your strained nerves. His dimples nearly managed to beguile your senses when your eyes flared at the sight of what was held between his long fingers.

“No! Henry, no! Not the coffee!”

“Oh, I’m afraid so, my love. You shouldn’t have any caffeine at your current state.” Despite his argument, the tenderness of his gaze stroked upon your face like a warm ray of sunlight piercing through heavy clouds. Lazily it dropped to your belly, the cascading heat cradling your unborn child. 

Words of protest left you for a sliver of a moment, too in awe of the dreamy grin on his face. 

Thoughts of how beautiful you’d look rounded and full with his child illuminated him that you swore his skin developed a glow over the night. Didn’t they always say women are radiant when they are pregnant? Well, it seemed that in your case, it applied to your husband as well.

The charming haze of bliss almost swallowed you up; but you quickly slapped yourself back into reality, reaching a hand in an attempt to stop Henry from throwing away your delicacy. Though taller, Henry held his hand far out of reach, a hint of a smugness stretching his lips.

“A pregnant woman is allowed to have a little bit of caffeine!” You muttered and sent both hands in an attempt to retrieve the box while Henry teased you by throwing it from one hand to the other, further fueling your annoyance. 

Vexed to the point of frustration, you stood still and sighed, “you know what else is bad for the baby?” 

Henry paused his foolish games and tilted his head as he waited to hear your answer.

“His father at the morgue after I’ll kill him. Now stop that and hand it over! A pregnant woman can have a cup a day, according to Google.” 

“Nope,” Henry clicked his tongue, his laughter replaced with a severe stare. “Love, I know they say it’s okay to have a teeny bit, but I’ve been doing some research while you were asleep, and it’s not recommended. Caffeine increases heart rate and blood pressure, which is not good for you nor for the baby. It also increases urination, which may cause dehydration.”

Clenching your jaw at the onslaught of information he bestowed, you watched his lips move while none of his words registered. Preoccupied with the rules of a “healthy” pregnancy, Henry was set on being the practical one, completely forgetting to enjoy the moment. And damn, it was the moment to celebrate. All you wanted right now was to stay in bed for a day, ride your handsome husband to hell and back and eat as much ice cream as possible.

“Everything you eat from now on goes to our baby,” Henry proceeded to lecture on a thing you were perfectly aware of.

Ire found you within seconds, embroiled with pregnancy hormones which made him further intolerable at the moment— intolerable

... and delicious.  

Soaked with hunger, your eyes raked his sight: the thickness of his muscles was apparent beneath a plain black t-shirt and those good old grey sweats outlined the source of your current predicament. Your fingers twitched just from thinking about it, mimicking the sensation of squeezing its girth and eliciting those low groans that made your heart flutter. 

But his chatter still interrupted your sultry thoughts. If only there was a way to get him to shut up, you mused. Then your eyes focused on the soft bulge that winked back at your hungry glare.

Unaware, Henry turned toward the table to grab a bulk of informative documents he printed earlier in order to educate you of your pregnancy, he licked his thumb and began to read through, “As I was saying….”

Hastily, you exploited his lack of attention and took a step forward, your fingers latching around the hem of his sweats. With one swift movement, you fell to your knees and tugged his trousers along. 

Lost in his passionate speech, Henry was still muttering nonsense when your hand seized him; but as the lushness of your tongue bedded his soft cock without warning, all that could be heard in the kitchen was a husky gasp. 

Feeling the warm silky flesh swell and harden within your mouth, you sent your eyes up to peer at him, admiring the sight. Nothing spoke of your power better than the wrinkle between his shut eyes and his mouth agape with all air draining from his lungs. There you were, lowered to your knees with a maw full of his cock and yet, he was the one who lost his ability to speak and had his legs quaking of need. 

Unable to help yourself, you sent one palm to feel the tremor that ran through the muscles of his thighs while the other cradled his heavy sac. 

“Uh……” he finally managed to utter, a groan of bemused bliss pushing itself between his parted lips. “What… what are you doing?” 

You crooked an eyebrow in response and answered by dragging your mouth along the length of his shaft. Your pillowy lips ran across ridges and thrumming veins, your jaw loosening until you felt him deep in the back of your throat. 

Locked in the cavernous cage of your maw, he tightened his gut and shuddered with pleasure. Though, the low unbridled groans that sputtered from his chest fueled your enticement just as so; memories of how the same thick girth that brimmed your mouth would split open your narrow canal made both your eyes and abandoned cunt tear of desperation.

It always beguiled you how much arousal could be found in bringing him to his rapture without touching yourself. The harder he throbbed on your velvety serpent, the more you soaked.  

With fervent strokes, you feasted on the briny flavour of his cock; the tendons vibrated with bliss while your tongue twirled and pushed around them. You pulled, sucked, and pumped him in your warm mouth, milking the senses of a man infinitely stronger—a man who succeeded in conquering your womb yet now crumbled to nothing at the touch of your tongue.

“Fuck…. Babe… keep going,” Henry breathed out a plea. The documents held by his hand slipped between his fingers as he pressed his palm to the cabinet with a thud, and began to rock his hips back and forth to fuck back into your mouth. Like feathers, the white slips floated around you, landing onto the ground while you worked him to his ecstasy.  

His other hand found your head, caressing lovingly and trying to take control: yet his strength waned and his head fell back with a moan. Faster, harder, you sucked your husband to the point of submission while hums of admiration laced around his rigid length. Your eyes beamed as you watched his resolve shatter. Your fingertips toyed with the coarse hair at the apex of his thighs, your thumb seeking the tendon at the base of his cock and pressing into it, urging him to spill his gift down your throat.

“I’m going to… I’m going to…. In your throat… fuck.”

With a guttural grunt, he thickened against your tongue; the overflow of salty-sweet cream glazed your mouth and then flowed down your flaring throat.

The room thrummed with the buzz of the refrigerator, Henry’s heavy exhales - these were the sounds of your triumph. Wiping your lips with the back of your hand, you cracked a smile and neatly pulled his trousers back on before you rose to stand straight. 

Overwhelmed and drenched in sweat, your husband scrutinised you while you reached for the box of capsules and tilted your head.

“You were saying?”

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis Meet The Batboys

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Y'all, I am slowly but surely making good on that promise to get all my stories reposted--also editing them so they're nice and neat! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

She hummed in amusement as her father grunted and begrudgingly passed over another five into the man’s hand. “You know…it’s good to know that my perfect father actually sucks at something.” She turned and popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. “And it’s carnival games.”

He grunted again when he missed the balloon, and he handed her the darts. “Why don’t you try it, sweetheart?”

She handed him the cotton candy with a grin and took the darts, holding one up and making the repeated motion of throwing it. She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky as she asked, “Dad, if I get this, what toy do you want?”

She nodded to the bat in the corner. “I was thinking about the stuffed bat. Eh, dad?” He glared at her, but she laughed as she tossed the weighted dart, watching as it hit center and she pointed to the bat. “I’ll take that one.”

The man handed it to her, and they walked off; she held it up to her father. “Here. A bat for Batman,” she quipped, and he grunted at her.

“That isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

She shrugged and retorted, “It’s a little funny. You just have no sense of humor because you’re a stick in the mud.” (Y/N) shoved the stuffed animal in her backpack before reaching up and taking her father’s hand; she glanced down at her wristwatch on the opposite hand and said, “The performances don’t start for another twenty minutes. Want to go look at something else? I saw one of those spinning car rides. We could do that.”

When he didn’t give her response, she looked back up at him to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes set on the Wayne Enterprises tower. “Dad? You okay?”

He blinked as if startled from his thoughts and he directed his gaze down at her and after a few moments, he nodded. “Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He frowned and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I haven’t been a good—”

She cut him off with a ‘pfft’. “Dad, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” (Y/N) squeezed his hand in return. “I might be young, but I’m not an idiot. I know being a dad is new for you, especially since you didn’t get to watch me grow up the first decade of my life. But what matters is that you’re here now, and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all I ask of you.”

At her little speech, he was stunned, and after a moment he knelt down and hugged her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

(Y/N) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, though they were so big and broad that she couldn’t meet her hands around his back. “I love you too, dad.”

Happening to glance over his shoulder, she immediately gasped. “Dad!”

He let her go, immediately moving to protect her. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed towards a costumed family walking and greeting the people. “It’s the Flying Grayson’s!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along in their direction. “Let’s get a picture with them!” She could hear her father chuckle behind her, but he followed, and they stepped up to the family.

(Y/N) waved at them. “Hi Mister and Missus Grayson! Can we get a picture with you?”

The man and woman smiled at them and nodded, and a boy a couple years younger than her stepped up.

He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson. But you can call me Dick.”

(Y/N) took his hand and shook it. “(Y/N) Wayne. Nice to meet you, Dick.” She gestured to her father. “This is my dad, Bruce Wayne.”

Her father smiled and tipped his head towards the boy before handing the camera to someone and stepping beside her. She and Dick had become friends instantaneously as they slung their arms around each other’s necks, their grins cheesy and wide.

The camera flashed and the man handed Bruce the camera, and (Y/N) nodded to the family. “Thank you for taking a picture with us.” They started to walk away, but she stopped them, motioning to her dad. “Can my dad take a picture of the three of you? I know it seems a little weird, but it’d be cool to have a picture of you guys, and one with you.” They nodded at her request and she gestured to her father, watching him take the photo of the family. “Thank you!”

They waved and walked off, leaving them, and she turned to Bruce. “Wanna go find seats?” He nodded, and they began moving in the direction of the tent.

***

Time seemed to grind to a halt as (Y/N)’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched them slam into the ground. Chaos filled the tent in mere seconds, people screaming, children crying, and her father grabbed her arm. “(Y/N)—”

She nodded and pulled her arm away, already starting to make her way from her seat. “I’ve got him. Go.” She didn’t wait for his reply, hopping the seats until her feet hit the dirt ground and she broke into a sprint towards the sobbing boy in the center.

She twisted her feet and slid on the ground next to him, her heart tightened when he gazed up at her, sky blue eyes wide in agony. (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve got you Dick. I’ve got you kid.”

She felt his arms come around her middle as his head burrowed in her shoulder; his entire body shook with every heart-wrenching sob, and (Y/N) raised one of her hands, running it through his hair as she whispered repeatedly, “I’ve got you.”

(Y/N) heard GCPD officers shouting, and she looked up, seeing her father standing beside them. “Batman,” she whispered softly.

He glanced at her before kneeling beside them and blocking the way of the fallen couple. “You two shouldn’t look at this anymore.”

She nodded and squeezed the boy on the shoulder. “Dick. We need to get away from here.”

“I can’t…leave them.” He pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m…all alone.”

(Y/N) shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Dick. You’re not alone.” His face pinched as a new round of tears sprouted in his eyes and he lowered his head, the sobs wracking his body, and she gazed up at her father’s face, knowing the agony behind the white slits. “You’re not alone.”

Jason:

She walked alongside her father, tugging at the collar of her suit. “Can’t we make a suit that doesn’t choke me as much as this collar does? I feel like I’ve got one of Ivy’s vines wrapped around my throat.” He didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Ignore me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who designed your suit, Batgirl. I told you to choose breathable fabric but you refused and said you wanted adequate protection like mine.”

She blinked and glared at him. “Do you get some sick pleasure from repeating my apparent failures?” He chuckled lightly, and she looked around. “Whatever…I still think you shouldn’t have parked in Crime Alley. You know there’s always trouble here.”

“The Batmobile is fine,” he said, voice tired as if he’d answered the question a hundred times before—he had.

(Y/N) hummed, nodding to the car a few feet ahead of them and quipped, “Oh, so the kid jacking the tires off it is completely normal?”

Her father looked at her split second before turning to see it, his eyes widening in disbelief as he muttered, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” He moved soundlessly towards the boy, her following.

“Got to give it to him. It takes some big balls to jack the Batman’s ride,” she admired and he grunted, though she knew he was in agreement, and they walked up on the oblivious boy.

She watched her father pull his ‘Put-The-Fear-Of-Batman-Into-‘Em’ stance and he cleared his throat with an exaggerated, ‘ahem’. (Y/N) snorted at the way the boy jerked, twisting to see them staring at him; she swore he’d shit himself the way the fear bled into his eyes.

Her father glared at the kid. “You do realize that’s the Batmobile, right?”

The boy’s face pinched, and he tipped his head up, his voice haughty. “Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley, right?” (Y/N) barked a laugh, but quickly coughed when her father turned his glower to her, and he turned back to the boy just in time to see him swinging the tire iron.

“Bad move, hotshot.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her father catch the tool and grip the boy by the front of his hoodie, picking him up off the ground a few feet.

He squirmed, legs kicking out for few seconds before spitting, “You want to beat up on a kid, go enlist in the GCPD like every other bully in this city.”

(Y/N) saw the gears turning in her father’s head as he leaned in, his face inches apart from the boys as he demanded, “I’m only going to ask you this once…So give some serious thought to your answer.”

The boy craned his neck, eyes narrowed as he asked, “What it is?”

Her father gave him a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The boy’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and within the next ten minutes, they were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating burgers and fries and sipping on milkshakes.

At one point, she’d reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands; he looked up at her and she nodded to his burger. “Slow down, Jason. You’ll eat your hand at this rate.”

He snorted but nodded, eating a little slower than before as he said, “Sorry. This is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal since I’ve had a home.” He paused and looked out at the city. “It’s funny…I was here once, looking for Wayne Manor.” He looked between them. “I was trying to case the place, but I got lost.”

Bruce looked down at the boy and questioned, “Why do you think it’s okay to steal from people?”

Jason scoffed at his question. “Are you kidding me? Look at this view.” He motioned to the buildings in the distance. “Freaking ‘Billionaire Playboy’ thinks he’s the king of the world. Pfft.”

(Y/N) elbowed him in the ribs and quipped, “Oh honey, he doesn’t think he is. He knows he is.”

The two of them cackled, but the solemn look from her father made their laughter fall short and he said, “Sometimes you just have to give people a chance Jason…they’ll usually surprise you.”

Her father’s words made Jason pause, and she saw him sink into deep thought. After a few moments, she leaned across Jason and nudged her father.

He looked at her and she tipped her head to Jason. “Does this mean he’s coming home with us?” Her father looked at him and back to her, then nodded and she shifted her arm, grinning as she wrapped it around Jason’s neck. “Well then, welcome to the family…little brother.”

Tim:

She could sense the boy following her, and after a few moments, she realized he wasn’t giving up. It wasn’t just some coincidence that they were on the same path—he wanted something from her. She glanced over her shoulder before ducking into the shadows of an alley, waiting for him to follow.

Sure enough, he stepped into the opening of the alley, looking for her, then he shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. “No-no-no. I was so close to finding her.” He sighed and his shoulders fell in defeat as he visibly deflated.

She stepped behind him and gripped his shoulder in an steel-tight grasp, inquiring, “Why are you following me, kid?”

The kid gasped like he’d been shot as his knees collapsed beneath him, falling from her grip and to the ground. He rolled and gazed up at her with a mixture of shock and wonder as he breathed, “Batgirl.”

She glared down at him and demanded, “Answer my question before I call GCPD for you being out past curfew. Why. Are. You. Following. Me.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding rapidly. “Right. You see, I’ve been looking for you, Batgirl.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tailing. What I wanna know is, why?”

“I need to talk to you about Batman.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the mention of her father. “What’s a scrawny-ass kid like you, need to talk about Batman with me for?”

His mouth opened, then it snapped shut and he seemed to think on his answer for a moment. He looked at his hands and whispered, “It’s about your brother…Jason Todd.”

Hearing her deceased brother’s name knocked the air from her lungs and she barely managed to get the word ‘what?’ out without sucking in a breath.

He glanced up at her. “I know who you are Miss Way—”

(Y/N)’s hand shot out and she slapped it over his mouth before shaking her head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t know who’s listening.” He went silent as she removed her hand and held it out for him. “C’mon. If you know who I am then that means you know everyone’s identity.”

He nodded mutely and she clicked a button on her wrist; A few moments later, her bike pulled in front of the alley. “Get up. We need to go have a chat.” He took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, and they walked over to the bike. (Y/N) climbed on before nodding to him. “Get on and hold on.” He followed her order, sitting in front of her, and she took off.

***

A few minutes later, they were stepping into one of the safe houses her dad set up around the city. She closed the door and flicked on the light, pulling the cowl off before gesturing to the table. “Sit.” He obeyed and she opened the refrigerator, pulling out two sodas. (Y/N) turned, taking the seat across from him and sliding his drink over. “Now. Who are you and how do you know about all this?”

He nodded and pulled out a giant book, placing it on the table. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I’m thirteen, and I’ve been following the exploits of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin since I was two.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow at that. “Two’s a little young to be able to remember us.”

Tim looked at the book and nodded. “I know…but I have a photographic memory, and I remember the first time I saw Batman.”

“And that was?”

He paused and his voice quiet. “The night Dick Grayson’s parents were murdered.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and he drew his eyes to hers. “I remember Dick swinging to the ground as his parents climbed the ladder. His mom went first, and his dad followed. Then…the rope snapped, and…they fell.”

Tim quieted considerably and she had to strain to hear him as he recounted, “I got scared, and I looked away. I couldn’t watch…then I heard the crash and Dick sobbing. And I saw you run down and hug him.” He met her gaze. “Then I saw this giant, dark shape falling towards you, and I thought it was going to hurt you two. But then I realized Batman wasn’t trying to hurt you…he was trying to help you both. And he went from being a monster…to becoming some great Dark Knight.”

Tim looked at her. “From them on, I’ve been having the same dream, over and over. I—”

(Y/N) raised a hand, stopping him. “When did you find out who we were?”

He nodded. “When I was nine, I was watching TV and I saw you and Dick, well, Robin and Batgirl. You—”

“Batgirl and Robin. In that order.” She pointed to herself with a face that could only be something akin to the ‘first-child-syndrome’. “I was first.”

A smile grew across Tim’s face and he nodded. “Right, Batgirl and Robin. Anyway, I saw you two on TV, and I watched Dick perform a quadruple somersault.” He grinned rather proudly of himself and declared, “I knew that somersault like I knew my own name. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. And if Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne’s ward, then Bruce Wayne was Batman, and you were Batgirl.” (Y/N) stared at Tim in shock, too stunned to even form words.

He shifted nervously under her gaze. “Um…Miss (Y/N)? Batgirl? Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked and shook her head as she muttered, “Holy shit, kid. What are you?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

She huffed a laugh and grinned at him. “You’ve got some damn good detective skills to have figured all that out.” Tim smiled sheepishly under the praise, then (Y/N) stood up from the table, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her joints pop, then she stared at him. “You got a place to sleep tonight?”

“I…no. Not at the moment.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on her hips and hummed. “And why’s that?”

“Well, in the course of looking for you, I’ve also been looking for Dick. But I can’t find him. He’s good at disappearing.”

She nodded and pointed to a room. “I know where Dick is. Go sleep in the guest room, and tomorrow we can go find him.”

As she walked past him, heading for her room, he questioned dubiously, “You’d do that for me?”

(Y/N) stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what family does?”

Tim’s jaw went slack and he gaped at her as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Damian:

She shut the door behind her and locked it, though there really wasn’t any reason to considering the fact that no one could get into the manor, let alone across the front lawn without anyone inside knowing.

Hauling the bag up and over her shoulder, she found it odd that no one had greeted her yet and her oddity turned into unsettling when she didn’t hear anything.

She dropped her keys in the silver bowl on the side table and looked around the foyer. “Hello? Dad? Alfred? Timmy?” She stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”

There was no response and she hummed questioningly, knowing that on a Sunday, everyone was home relaxing. She made her way to the study and shifted the clock hands, watching as the entrance appeared, then she descended the steps into the cave. It was even quieter than usual, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back on her neck as she made her way to the Batcomputer.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, watching as the screen came to life and said, “Give me the most recent update.”

“Confirmation?” It replied.

“(Y/N) Wayne, Batgirl.”

The computer beeped for a moment. “(Y/N) Wayne. Batgirl. Access level high.” It paused. “Access granted. Welcome Batgirl.”

“Give me the most recent update.”

“Requested.” It processed the request then told her, “Talia al Ghul entered Gotham Bay approximately two days ago, leaving behind Damian al Ghul in Batman’s custody.”

Damian al Ghul? Who the hell is that? (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she pushed another button. “Who is Damian al Ghul.”

“Damian al Ghul is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Conceived…month and day unknown…year was two-thousand-three.”

(Y/N) stared at the screen, not sure if she should feel shock that her dad had a second biological kid, or disgust that he slept with Talia to get one. All the sudden, her training kicked in and she felt someone behind her. She spun around, catching the blade of a sword coming at her. She looked down at a young child, no older than ten, glaring up at her. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was a child, and though he had Talia’s emerald green eyes and olive complexion, there was no mistaking the resemblance between him and her father.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she shoved him away. “The hell are you doing?”

He raised the sword again and said, “Testing you.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, her gaze curious. “For what purpose?”

He ran at her waving the sword. “To see if you are really father’s daughter.”

She chuckled at that and dodged each attempt to cut her. “Trust me short-stack, I’m Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

Her insult seemed to set him off and he swung the sword wildly. “I am not short!”

(Y/N) grunted as the blade grazed her arm, and she clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’m done entertaining you.”

She let him come to her, then she twisted, wrenching the sword from his grip before tossing it away and coming back around. She gripped him by the collar and used the momentum to slam him to the ground before pulling his arms behind him and putting her knee in his back.

It all happened within seconds, and he didn’t know how to respond other than to cry out in anger. “Let go!”

She pulled his arms tighter until he stopped squirming and she leaned down. “Take a chill pill, runt.” He still cried out in rage at the name, and she heard someone grunt a few feet from her.

“Let him up, (Y/N).”

She looked up to see her father and Alfred walking towards her. She obeyed, rolling away from the boy and to her feet. “I was wondering where you were.”

Bruce nodded to Damian, who was pulling himself off the floor in a rather heated fashion. “We were trying to find out where Damian had gone.”

(Y/N) eyed him for a moment before murmuring, “So, he really is your kid?”

Damian cut Bruce off, spitting, “Are you jealous?”

She looked at Damian and snorted. “Not even an ounce short-cake.” (Y/N) laughed at the way his face pinched in rage, and she turned to Bruce. “You just can’t help collecting them, can you?” He glared at her and she laughed, walking over and nudging him. “Smile a little, Scrooge. Your face will get stuck like that if you don’t.”

He sighed, and muttered, “I don’t know what to do with him.”

(Y/N) glanced at the boy who was picking up his sword. “Too angry?”

“Belligerent is more like it.”

She chuckled and patted his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

“(Y/N) I don’t think—”

“Relax, dad. I handled Dick’s anger, didn’t I?”

“Damian’s got Dick beat by a longshot. I don’t think he knows any demeanor other than attack.”

(Y/N) waved as she walked towards Damian. “No one’s able to beat Dick’s anger. No one in a million years could reach the level of pissed off Dick Grayson stays at.” Bruce grinned as he watched (Y/N) take the sword and move Damian towards the stairs. “C’mon pint-sized. We’re going to explore Gotham.”

“I do not want to go.” He retorted, pulling away from her.

She grasped the back of his neck like a puppy and held him firmly as they walked and she quipped, “I don’t really give a fuck whether you want to or not. You’ve been raised by homicidal psychopaths since you were born.” She looked down at him. “You need to see the real world.”

“My grandfather and mother aren’t psychopaths!”

“Oh really? So killing people for money or because honor demands it, isn’t psychopathic traits? What about when Ra’s kills people because they disrespect him?”

“That is different!”

“I mean you don’t see me poppin’ caps in people’s asses when they call me a whore, do you?”

Bruce watched the two of them climb the stairs, arguing, and he sighed, sensing Alfred walk next to him.

“Almost reminds you of Master Dick and Miss (Y/N), doesn’t it Master Bruce?”

He looked at Alfred, then smiled and nodded. “In every way, shape, and form.”

Alfred smiled. “It is such a good thing that Miss (Y/N) is the oldest. The boys have needed her.”

“She’s their protector.”

Alfred paused, resting a hand on his shoulder; Bruce met his gaze and saw such a solemnity in them as he said, “She is everyone’s protector, Master Bruce. Even yours.” Alfred walked away, then Bruce turned and looked at the photo resting on the desk. It was the first photo he and (Y/N) had taken in their suits.

He smiled at it and nodded. “That she is.”