#user 'mc' replied: pet

[rustytrident]

mc vlogs while they stay in the human world.

it started because they would send the brothers' group chat videos of them and the events throughout their day, and asmo was like hm. why not just,,, post it?

and post it they did.

it's on a website that allows streaming from every realm, so humans, demons, and even angels can watch what mc is up to, which ultimately kinda weirds them out because they will be filming themselves gaming or studying or even going grocery shopping and thousands of beings will fill their page with views and comments. they already are a sort of celebrity in the devildom, and a lot of beings have heard of them in the celestial realm, so they were expecting some sort of traction from there, but when humans started watching and commenting things like "i love that brand of chips" or "you can clean it with baking soda and it will make it look brand new!" they really started freaking out.

i can see demons especially being so fascinated with how humans live. mc will be going to the bank or knocking on watermelons to choose which one to buy and every demon comment is along the lines of "damn bitch you live like this???"

you can easily tell when the brothers or someone from purgatory hall comments because they're all channel members (something mammon and levi set up), and mc replies to every single one of them, and only them. beings start complaining that mc is playing favorites and in their next video they're like "yes. that's my family. you're a stranger on the internet" and though not many of them stop being supportive, none of them bring it up again.

idk man this whole post is one big brainfart but tldr mc is really popular and really cool and all they did was just have a monologue about their favourite anime character's development and eat instant ramen because they were out of food.

[solaireverie]

op81 | best he'll ever write

summary: [ author!oscar piastri x f!driver!reader — social media au ] being the partner and muse of a celebrated author means that fans start connecting the dots sooner rather than later

faceclaim: gracie abrams

author’s note: i'm secretly a ya romcom book girlie and i feel like that shows SO MUCH in this fic 🙈 delusional for life!

[ masterlist / guidelines / lola's masterlist / series masterlist ]

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, liakblock and 534,230 others

geotag: melbourne, australia

yourusername short break down under 🐨

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user great race at the australian gp y/n!

↪ user first points of the season let's goooo

↪ yourusername and hopefully many more to come 🙌

logansargeant STRAYAAA 🦘🇦🇺🦘🇦🇺

↪ yourusername VEGEMITE ON TOAST 🤤

↪ user sometimes i forget that logan and y/n are both gen z 😂

user the puppy is so adorable 🥺

↪ user i wonder whose it is 👀 y/n's said that her schedule doesn't allow for pets

oscarpiastri not my birthday cake...

↪ yourusername sorry not sorry 😉

↪ user who the hell is oscar piastri and why is y/n replying to his comment 😭

↪ user don't you talk about my favourite best-selling author like that 🤺

oscarpiastri has added to their story

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you replied to oscarpiastri's story

liked by oscarpiastri, logansargeant, landonorris and 3,393,210 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername can't believe that little kid is now a 3-time nyt best-selling author 🥹 so proud of you oscarpiastri 💗 i haven't been able to put eighty-one seconds down 📖 available in bookstores near you!

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user i love how y/n always supports and promotes oscar's books 🥺

↪ user they're so adorable together my heart can't take it

oscarpiastri Thanks for the encouragement. Couldn't have done it without you 👍

↪ yourusername damn right you couldn't have 😤

user okay but who took the photo of y/n 👀

↪ user i'm betting it was oscar 😜

↪ user hello what 😳😳😳

↪ user oh my sweet summer child...

liked by yourusername, hachetteaus, johngreenwritesbooks and 293,192 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri Thank you to everyone who's been on this journey with me. Eighty-One Seconds is finally yours and we can't be more happy to share it with you. As many of you have guessed, it is my homage to Y/N and all the time we have spent together. My wife, my love, my heart. I'm grateful that you're in my life. Forgive me for re-using my words, but here's to eighty-one more years together.

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user hold on a damn second 🤚 his WIFE??? when was this a thing 🧐

↪ yourusername 🤭

↪ user give us answers please 🙏 i haven't had peace since oscar posted this

yourusername i love you too, oscar jack piastri 🤍

↪ user oh he literally named his mc after himself 😭

↪ user GOODBYE??? JACK AS IN HIS MIDDLE NAME??? oh my god they really weren't subtle

williamsracing signed copy when 😏

↪ hachetteaus already on its way 🫡

user honestly i'm surprised they managed to hide their relationship for this long 💀

↪ user oh they did NOT we were just blind

↪ logansargeant I didn't find out until I got the wedding invitation in the mail 🤝

↪ landonorris i think that's just cause you're oblivious mate 😂

↪ logansargeant what???

↪ landonorris they literally make out all the time in williams hospitality

↪ yourusername lando... 😒

user if your man isn't writing a book professing his love for you, what's he doing with his life?

↪ user oscar's set the standard 😌

likes and reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @scenesofobx @vellicora @boiohboii @julesbabey @flannelforthetoads @misartymis @c-losur3

[mythicalmyles]

Heyo, I've come to request a Helen Otis fic! With blood kink, bondage, abduction, forced sex, dacryphilia, and stalking.

Now onto the dazzling idea for this!

MC is someone who is chronically online and a skeptic, so when he comes across the Bloody painter murders he's putting down Helen's work. This continues for a few months before MC notices that some stuff from his house going missing or someone stalking him online. No matter how much he's reported the user they always create a new account. After weeks of torment he finally decides to go off the grid and deactivate his accounts. Which ends up being the worse thing he can do since no one will be able to get into contact with him once he's abducted. It wasn't a sudden abduction since he was forewarned about it from his online stalker. Though who would believe anything from someone online?

MC wakes up in an abandoned building chained to a bed, gagged and legs spread with a pipe. Looking further, he's all cut up and bleeding, the wounds kind of freshThe rattling of his chains alert his captor who just so graciously happens to be the Bloody Painter. There's evident regret on his face but he doesn't get the chance to clear things up. He's squirming and balling his eyes out and scared for his life. All the while the painter is just causally stroking his meat.

I'm not sure about what else to write down but those are the important things. Feel free to change things you see fit! (*´꒳`*)

Best way i could think to do this was giving reader a god complex(?kinda) and being a smug asshole so i hope you enjoy also readers watch girls cousin (i cannot remember that bs name)

Also warning for gore talk, pet play( rlly minor so) skin biting/picking mention jic

(Name) let out a sigh, linking his knuckles behind his neck as he stretched out his tired limbs. The white glow of his pcs light hit him, darkness surrounded his room as he browsed his favourite dark web forum. He let out a snort when a picture turned up with two dead bodies propped up on a bed a and a bloody smile behind then.

(Names) face was grinning as he hit the comment section. “This is unbelievably fake, talk about edgelord.” (Name) rolled his eyes, not having another thought before he let out a bored sigh and shut his pc down. He quickly made his way to his bed, he gracefully launched himself onto it and let out a loud sigh before finally passing out.

————

He woke up late, the sun streaming in through the gaps in his curtains. He sluggishly dragged himself out of his bed, hair everywhere. He rubbed his face as he made his way to his pc, he flopped onto his chair and quickly booted it up.

He closed his eyes and leaned back on his chair as the soft sound of his pc filled his room. (Name) quickly manoeuvred to his favourite dark forum, eyebrows jumping up when he noticed a notification. He clicked it and to his surprise someone had replied to his comment.

BloodySmiler: you should be careful what you comment on.

(Name) let out a loud laugh, hand running through his hair. A smug smirk filled his cheeks, this could be fun.

Triggered? This is the worst shit i ever seen, even if its real how much of a pussy do you have to be to kill sleeping bitches?

Again (Name) hit send and refreshed the page a couple times before letting out a sigh and continuing on with his day.

He had completely forgotten the interaction until later on in the day, he wasn’t expecting a reply and there wasnt any. He smirked victoriously to himself, he’d won.

It wasnt until an hour later when he had received a direct message, confusion filled him as he opened it. It took a few seconds for him to register what it was, a woman probably his age with her throat slit open and eyes wide in terror.

His brows furrowed when he reverse searched and nothing came up, he convinced himself it was because it had already been taken down. He shook off the uncomfortable feeling that stabbed through his stomach.

Freak

Was all he replied before again logging off, he shook his head as he stood up and made his way to his bed.

————

(Name) felt sick, paranoia filled him up and he severely regretted every nanosecond he spent on that forum. It had been two weeks since he’d replied. Two weeks of hell. New images every day, videos sometimes with audio sometimes without. He’d blocked over fifty three accounts, all from the same guy he assumed.

No matter what he always came back, (Name) had lost it the previous night and completely deleted every account he had on the dark web. He’d finally felt somewhat peace but as he stared at the message his facebook had just received he felt sick.

Ice flowed through his veins as his eye began twitching, he couldn’t breath. He’d felt like he’d just been punched in the chest with a battering ram. It took him a moment to breath as he clicked the video he’d been sent from someone named ‘John Doe.’

He wasnt stupid, he knew the name was fake. But the video they sent sure wasnt. He gawked as he looked at himself from a couple years ago, a video that had never been posted anywhere.

It wasnt anything bad, just him and his cousin and her friend in a group chat talking about their problems. He had forgotten about it completely. How he got access to a chat room that had two dead people in it was horrifying.

What filled him with more terror was his dead cousin messaging him.

“I miss you.”

“Why weren’t you there? You were suppose to visit but you didn’t.”

“I will find you. :)”

(Name) barley had another thought as he quickly made his way to his account settings and nuked his account, he stressfully ran his hands through his hair. His mind was blank, he didn’t know what to do in this situation.

————

A few days had passed since then, (Name) couldnt even look at his computer or phone. He’d switched both off and never turned them back on, his nails were nothing more then nubs surrounded by jagged bitten skin. He knew he shouldn’t do it but he couldn’t stop himself.

He stared into his cupboard, he’d already ransacked the whole house of food. He’d have to go shopping and that struck terror deep into his heart. He shook his head, trying to convince himself it was just some weirdo online and that they had no clue where he lived.

His hand rested over his stomach as it let out a roar of hunger, part of him tried convincing himself that he could just order take out or do a food shop online but the other part of him berated himself for thinking some looser online would really hunt him down for being a bit of a cheeky dick.

He let out an exhausted sigh and grabbed up his keys before dashing out the door. There was a corner shop not too far from him, he could be there and back in less then 30 minutes. He’d be fine he convinced himself.

The air bit at him as he made his way down the quiet street, his head kept snapping around looking for something, anything.

Once he was in the shop he felt a lot safer, a breath pouring out of his lips as he took his time gathering what he needed. Luckily the line wasn’t too long and he was exiting the shop before he knew it.

Just as he was making his way past an alley something grabbed him, before he’d even had time to react his head had been slammed into the wall and everything went dark.

————

(Name) jolted up, unfortunately not getting far. His widened eyes shot down between his legs, a bar separated his naked thighs and he felt himself begin to shake.

“I was wondering if you were dead or not.” A smooth voice came and to (Names) horror he was met with the sight of a man in a mask with a bloody smile on it, (Name) took a few seconds to even notice the man had his cock out and was lazily stroking it.

(Name) let out a scream and started struggling against his restraints, Helen laughed as he watched the smaller man struggle so hard. Under usual circumstances Helen would’ve just killed him, but after seeing those pretty (e/c) eyes in his profile picture he couldn’t resist himself.

He stood up and made his way over to (Name) causing him to panic more. “Whats the point in struggling? I already have you.” Helen took off his mask, blue eyes dancing with glee. Helen ran his hands up (Names) thighs, rubbing them as he got closer to his cock.

(Name) shook his head, begging Helen silently with teary eyes. The feeling of Helens leather clad fingers running up his legs had tears ran down his cheeks when Helen moved one of his hands to his ass. His finger lightly rubbing against his hole, (Name) shook and screamed through his gag while trying to contort his body to get out of his binds.

All he succeeded in was turning his wrists red raw. “So pretty, you’re gonna look so cute full of my cock.” (Name) sobbed, fear flowing through his body. He flinched when Helen pulled a bottle of lube out of his pocket, opening the bottle and spreading it over his digits.

Helen slide his middle finger into (Names) hole causing him to jump and scream. He begged through his gap as helen began slowly pushing his finger in and out of him, he bit his lip as he watched his digit get swallowed.

“You’re so greedy, sucking my finger in like that.” (Name) stopped his fighting when Helen quickly sped up and slid another finger into him, Helen could see his cheeks turning red and the small moans he tried to hide kept Helens cock standing at attention.

Helen gripped the bar separating his legs with his free hand, he pushed it up causing (Names) legs to raise off the bed. Helen giggled as the boy finally stopped fighting, his hand moving from the bar to his thigh.

Helen took his fingers out and wiped them on the bed, hands gripping his thighs as he bent his victim in half. (Name) let out his loudest scream when Helen produced a knife, he froze in place as Helen held the knife to his neck. (Name) whimpered as Helen stationed his legs on his shoulders, tears rapidly dripped from his eyes.

“You looks so fucking pretty when you cry. Maybe this will teach you a lesson. Not like i plan on letting you go after this buut.” Helen ended his sentence in a singing voice, relishing in the way his new friends eyes doubled to the size of dinner plates.

Helen used his knife free hand to position his cock against (Names) hole, the panicked noises that tried to pour from the gag made Helens cock almost unbearably hard. He began pushing his cock in, smirking when (Name) stopped fighting. Helen had been pretty blessed, he also knew he hadn’t stretched him enough.

Helen didn’t care for (Names) pain as he quickly buried his cock into him. (Name) had dropped his head back on the bed, sobbing through his gagged mouth. Helen was kind enough to give the other a moment to get use to being stuffed, his hips were pressed flush against (Names) ass.

Helen smirked down at him as he dragged his knife from his neck to his chest and down his stomach, leaving a bloody line behind the sharpened blade. (Name) stopped fighting, instead choosing to lie back and cry as he took what he was given.

A sudden thrust from Helen had (Names) back arching as a moan slipped through his gag. Helen leaned down and licked up the line, blood coating his tongue. Helen licked his lips causing (Names) blood to disperse over them.

“This is your new life puppy, enjoy it.” Was all Helen said before dropping the knife on the bed, he gripped (Names) thighs hard as he almost snapped the man in half. Helen was quick to begin thrusting into his new toy, groaning at the way the boys hole had a tight grip on his cock.

“God. Acting like you dont want this but sucking me back in? Whore.” (Name) shook his head, he didn’t want this. Helen didn’t care though, directly aiming for the other’s prostate. (Name) couldn’t help but moan as his prostate was repeatedly rammed into. Helen moved one of his hands from (Names) thigh to his neck, cutting off the others oxygen as he sped up his movements. Helen leaned down licking some tears off his crying toys cheek.

All (Name) could do was roll his eyes back as pleasure shot through his stomach and up his spine, he hated it but it felt so so good. He felt stuffed beyond belief, the sight of Helens cock sliding into him and creating a bulge in his stomach had his cock rock hard. Despite how much he tried to take his mind off it he couldn’t help but devolve into a moaning whore as Helen gripped his cock and began jacking him off, helen had a vicious grin as he watched (Names) eyes jump to the back of his head and his back arch.

(Name) came all over his stomach, before flopping onto the bed boneless as he sobbed. Helen kept thrusting into the other, loving the way he watched the fight slowly leave the other. Helen slowed down his thrusts and picked his knife back up, (Name) didn’t sob but tears rolled down his cheeks as Helen began carving a smile onto his stomach.

Once he was done (Name) was horrified to see a bloody smile looking back at him, he just sobbed to himself as Helen sped his movements back up. Helen didn’t last much longer, the sight of the other giving up sent him over the edge and he filled (Name) with cum. “Pretty little puppy all full of my cum. So fucking pretty. God I’m never letting you go.” All (Name) could do was lie back and sob as Helens cum dripped out of his hole.

[xxsycamore]

- KINKTOBER DAY 12 - Let me be your good boy! - [RIO/MC SMUT]

A/N: This is inspired by @mcdonaldsnumberone ​ and their eye-opening headcanon about Maid!Rio. I can’t thank you enough for making something that haunted me until I finally sat down to write more of it. I hope you find it to your liking! Also, the title is a reference to Bitchboy by The Oozes which maybe suits Rio a bit too well? 

Rating: E

Word count: 1,827

Relationship: F/M; Rio Ortiz/MC (Emma)

Tags:  Master/Pet; Master/Servant; Maid outfits; Maid Fetish; Maid!Rio; Femdom; Dom!Emma; Dom/Sub; Dominance; Masochism;  Verbal Humiliation; Reverse 69; Blow Jobs; Cunnilingus; Come Eating; Mirror Sex; Edgeplay; Spanking; Orgasm Denial; Light footplay; Dirty Talk

Check my masterlist here! You can also find all my works on AO3 under user xsycamore.  In my profile you can find my Ko-fi if you would like to support me!

Written for my Visions of Temptation Kinktober 2021 challenge. [DAY 1] [DAY 2] [DAY 3] [DAY 4] [DAY 5] [DAY 6] [DAY 7] [DAY 8] [DAY 9] [DAY 10] [DAY 11]

DAY 12 - Maid fetish + “I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.”

Emma could say she's doing a pretty good job adapting to the palace life ever since taking on the role of Belle. The one thing she didn't see coming has to be the amount of time she is supposed to be spending daily taking care of her looks.

Thankfully, she has a butler just for that.

"What about this one, Master? Do you like it better than the carmine one? Bright colors suit you best! Oh, but the mature look is so good on you…"

Rio is a blessing. Even if it seems like he makes the job harder sometimes, Emma knows that it's all rooted in his desire for all to be flawless when it comes to her. She can deal with his excessive enthusiasm perfectly on any day.

Well, maybe not today. 

Tapping her fingers to her lips, Emma hums half of a reply, feigning attention as her eyes follow Rio's ministrations. Only, it's not really the diligently selected dresses she is looking at - it's the man holding them up for her.

Rio is dressed into something little different from his usual attendant uniform. The way he waltzed inside her chambers earlier was nothing but adorable for Emma, once she calmed down from the shock of course. Seeing Rio in a maid uniform isn't something she expected, even if the man put effort into making it come off as a normal thing. The adorable part about it all is mainly the fact how well he is masking his fervent anticipation for a reaction from his Master.

Emma is used to Rio stating his desires directly, unashamed of their nature. He'd ask for her hand in marriage the same way he'd ask to join her for a walk in the gardens. It's about the same when he asks to have sex with her, puppy eyes and everything. It's all painfully familiar to Emma. So, seeing him trying to restrain himself for the sake of professionalism is entertaining her a lot. If he is going to have fun putting on a performance for her, then she is going to have fun with it, too.

 They spend some more time in the walk-in wardrobe attached to Emma's room, discussing the outfit for the upcoming ball. Rio muses over the details as usual. The way he tells her to sit down as he delicately puts on different pairs of shoes on her feet is almost seeming to be an excuse to touch her more. Helping her even with the articles she can put on her own is all for the sake of that same thing.

Emma is quick to grow bored of playing dress-up, with the full-length mirror making it easy for her to distract herself with catching glimpses of Rio bending over to tend to her feet.

At some point, as he stands behind her holding up yet another dress over the forms of her body, their eyes meet in the reflection. Emma grasps Rio's hand, making him lower the hanger as she speaks out his name firmly.

"Rio."

"Yes Master?"

"Let's switch positions. Come in front of the mirror."

"Of course Master!"

Any order for Rio is strictly that, an order - instead of faltering in wonder, he'd rather just obey on the spot and see where it takes him. Even if finding himself in the spotlight is provoking some feelings of anticipation deep inside him. It's clear as day why he is in his current position - with Emma's eyes locked on his frame, the elephant in the room is most likely about to be addressed.

Standing right behind him, Emma easily slides her hands on the sides of Rio's waist, feeling him tense a little as they roam on his front, exploring his little outfit. The overly exposed décolletage of the black-and-white dress is doing a poor job of showing the decency that Rio tried to put in the outfit. So does the frilled skirt that only looks shorter on Rio's already relatively long legs, with the added length of a matching ankle-strap platforms. Not to mention the way his thin white gloves are emphasizing the nakedness of the rest of his arms.

At last, Rio can't hold his enthusiasm in anymore, smiling at his own reflection and wiggling his ass just a little to make the frills of his dress swirl demonstratively.

"Do you like it, Master?"

“I adore it. I’ve never wanted to fuck you more than I do now.”

Rio's heart is about to burst out from happiness. He desperately wants to turn around and let his feelings run wild in any form at all, but he stays obediently on his place until commanded otherwise.

"Master!! Do you really love it that much? Does it turn you on that much?"

Rio follows Emma with wide eyes as she comes in front of him and beckons him to lower himself to the floor by pressing a hand on his shoulder. Rio complies, sitting back on his knees and waiting patiently for a reply.

Emma smiles at him, being a soft mistress at heart, despite at the same time casually nudging her foot between Rio's parted legs. The heel of the shiny brand-new shoe that Rio put on her leg himself just a while ago rubs perfectly on the tent formed in the skirt. Due to how short it is and Rio's position that makes it ride up further, it's easy for Emma to expose Rio's underwear just by a simple prod by her foot. She is pleased to find matching white lacy panties underneath that Rio might or might have not accidentally flashed her with, while bending down earlier.

Rio moans pathetically at the ministrations of her foot, albeit the pain of its wake, and for the lack of anything better to do with his hands, he holds onto his mistress's leg. Emma withdraws it seconds away from having it rutted against, and scolds Rio for being impatient.

"What a little whore you are, Rio! Good boys don't do that, I'm afraid…"

She puts her hands on her hips and stares down at Rio, feeling sadistic satisfaction to see his teary eyes and his hard-on as he runs out of patience to stay unoccupied, almost unaffected by the verbal humiliation whatsoever.

"Please give me an order, Master! I'm your good boy, I would do anything for you!! Let me show you how much I can do!"

Emma bites on her bottom lip, thinking just how far she wants to go with that hearty offer of his.

"First of all, take these off…"

She gestures with her foot to the lacy panties that disappear before her eyes seconds after the words are spoken.

"Now, I want you to please me with your mouth, Rio. I'm going to lay down and I want you to get on top of me, facing opposite. You got that?"

Rio nods thrice, losing no time in getting into the desired position as soon as his mistress lays her back on the plush rug underneath. Rio helps her strip down completely, stealing a sloppy kiss in the meanwhile that they both get a little lost into. As if she hasn't already been aware of her own arouse, Rio is quick to point it out with what she could only picture to be a dreamy gaze even if she can't see it.

"Master, you've made a mess! Let me clean that like the good little maid I am!"

That's right, her good little maid… Emma can't argue on this, not when she can feel Rio's tongue lively swiping about her folds. It's almost maddening to feel him lick with the task of simply collecting her juices instead of actually pleasuring her - it should earn him another scolding, at least, but Emma gives up on that when she feels him sucking apologetically on her clit.

Her previously closed in pleasure eyes open again to find the sight of Rio's pretty ass just begging for her to run her nails into. She's made the best choice to put him in this position, with his bottom hoovering just over her, as Rio held himself upright on his hands and knees. Reaching out her hand to grasp his neglected cock, Emma feels herself getting ever wetter under Rio's tongue as she struggles to take in the task of stroking him to full hardness.

Rio gasps, withdrawing his damp lips as he didn't expect such a reward so early in their playtime.

He dips his head back down with even more eagerness to please Emma as he wishes for this cycle of loving and being loved to last forever.

Rio hardly contains his moans as he senses the plush back wall of Emma's mouth against the tip of his cock. But letting everything out is good, because most of it all, he wants her to know how good she's making him feel.

"M-master, more, please! I want to cum!"

Emma lets her head fall back for another short break as she breaths out heavily, enjoying keeping Rio on the edge in the meantime. She admires the sight of him, his overly aching cock twitching just above her lips and dripping with precome. The rest of him is just as lovely, his frilly skirt hiked up on his waist as his legs in stockings tremble helplessly.

"I want you to look at yourself in the mirror while you cum. See for yourself how big of a slut you are. Would my good little maid do that?"

Rio moans just at the thought of it, followed by an enthusiastic and quick reply of "Yes, Master!" He gives his everything to keep doing his job of eating her out through it all, but once he feels Emma's mouth on him again, he abandons it completely. He hurries to comply with her request, feeling himself not being able to last much longer. When his blue eyes catch his reflection in the mirror, he knows it's over for him. He marvels on just how good it looks to be right where he belongs as a dirty little maid.

Watching his master suck him off in such suggestive position gets him off on the spot, as he comes hard into her mouth, feeling sharp pain as her nails sink into his ass, preventing him from bucking his hips down and accidentally choking her in the process. The additional pain of the ten digits only prolongs his orgasm as he shoots ropes after ropes of cum down her throat, moaning out pathetically his mistress's name over and over.

Just as he starts to calm down, panting heavily, a slap across his ass makes him arch his back again.

"Keep licking! And after you're done cleaning that mess, you're going to tend to the one you made of my mouth!"

Feeling himself get hard again, Rio's heart beats heavily against his chest as he giggly buries his head between her tights, eager to prove his worth.

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @leonardoism @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran @thehappycat123 @pumpumnnnp  @thesirenwashere @theuwuisunreal @ravenarld @kyokirigiri-22 @kimmy-banana @btarinana @animeworldsposts @randomanimatedhusbandoseeker @galaxyprison @trishtori @sadshaxk @starshards26 @pro-cat-stination @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @judgemental-seal @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou @toxiicmoron @ikemenlover24 @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles  Please let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[lorei-writes]

The Dragon of Yss

Chapter VIII: The Gods We Trust

Masamune x MC (Mizusaki Mai) Fantasy AU Action Summary: He wanted Mai to remain herself - and for that very reason, he promised to protect her, at any cost. No matter how far he’d have to travel to find her. Previous chapters: Masterlist

Let’s see who will we meet soon...

Content Warnings: none

“Devils live in the darkness. If you have nowhere to go, my home is yours too.”

Frozen wind howled through snowy valleys, dashing across endless fields of white. Lost souls, trapped under heavy cape of ice, cried once more, struggling to break free from their prison – to no avail. Silence consumed them whole, stealing their faces away. Did they even exist? Who would ever bother with another nameless corpse eaten by the cold...

A pair of mismatched eyes opened.

***

The carriage rocked lightly from side to side, the lantern hung on a rod swaying vigorously. The light flickered, dancing over wooden stalls painted in colourful flowers, horses taking one final step.. Mai felt a chill run down her spine, the place she assumed would be usually quite busy being completely empty. She looked around, her mind quieting a bit, warm aura seeping from houses scattered around the marketplace soothing her senses. She stood up and stretched her arms high above her head. “This is Zgshelish?” she asked, readying herself to jump off the carriage and go her way. “Can you tell me where to find an inn?” “Zgrzelirz, yes. We have no inn, miss,” the man replied calmly, his hands clutching the reins. “Devils live in the darkness. If you have nowhere to go, my home is yours too.” Somewhat puzzled, she gazed at him and put her hand over Masamune’s back, just in case they needed to escape yet once again. Slick scales under her fingers, Mai squinted her eyes, trying to focus on the world around her as much as she could. She searched for malice – and yet, all she could find was fear. “Like the elders say, guest in the house, god in the house,” the man assured her. She tilted her head, the dragon sitting on her shoulder encouraging her to take the offer. “Thanks,” she mumbled and sat down, the horses beginning to walk once more.

Her cheek resting against the side of the carriage, Mai glanced around herself, the subtle sway of the vehicle threatening to lull her to sleep. Hoping it’d keep her awake just for a moment longer, she forced herself to take in her the view, silver moonlight washing over the surrounding fields. Heavy ears of wheat hummed in unison, all grain morphing before her eyes as to form waves. Electric feeling running through her back, Mai was just about to turn around, too tired to think of what could have caused it. “Miss, don’t look back,” the man warned her. “It will go away on its own.” “It?” she asked, blinking away the exhaustion. Her eyes travelling down, she looked at Masamune, his body all tensed up as he readied himself for attack. ”Your pet lizard has seen it.” “But what is this ‘it’?” Mai nagged, her voice hitching as sudden cold embraced her arm, bone-like fingers resting atop her shoulder. ”The Lady we don’t name,” the man blurted out. He spit to his left side three times. “Into the unpainted. Do not look at it and it will go away.”

White hair floating around her, Mai shut her eyes, clenching her fists as not to tremble. The feeling spread over her body, hairs over her arms standing up. The creature’s hold on her tightened – and the very next second, it was gone completely, the odd cool disappearing as well. Mai waited for a moment before moving again, her hand reaching under her shirt to massage the sore place. She looked over it, purple bruises beginning to form. “This La…” she started, but was cut off by the man. “Don’t say it or you will invite it. This time it would take you.” She nodded in understanding. “This… Thing. Is there no way to fight it?” “No,” he replied without a hint of hesitation. “What about magic users?” Thick silence took over the air, not even horses daring to neigh. The man rushed them, lights emerging from darkness in front of them. A house. “I don’t care what they say in big cities, miss. Here we trust in our god.”

***

Ieyasu groaned and turned onto his other side, the light entering his bedroom causing for his head to begin hurting anew. “Told ya’, lad, you’ve got to take better care of yourself,” a chuckle reached his ears. “Shut up, Masamune…” he mumbled, throwing a pillow into the direction of the voice out of habit alone. Having realised what had just happened, he shot up, the empty space seemingly mocking him. Ieyasu fell back onto the bed, his face hidden inside of his palms. “We shouldn’t have let this idiot go alone,” he sighed.

No matter how tired he was, the day had to begin. Ieyasu got up and dressed himself, soon running down the stairs and walking through the narrow corridor leading to his surgery. He frowned upon entering it, familiar eyes in the shade of pale ember glancing at him from over the cover of his very own medical diary. Ieyasu snapped it away from his friend’s hands, angrily sitting down in the chair by the desk. ”Knocking wouldn’t hurt.” Mitsuhide nodded and smiled, his knuckles hitting the countertop behind him. “Is that any better?” he asked. “What do you want either way? You haven’t visited ever since…” Ieyasu trailed off. He didn’t have to say it out loud. ”Yes, well,” Mitsuhide cleared his throat. “I am here by the order of Nobunaga, so to speak. I presume he is too busy to send a letter, so he sent me instead. The nobles of Vyrminia are stubborn to say the least, indeed,” he sighed, averting his gaze for a moment. Having taken a deep breath, he looked Ieyasu in the eyes. “Aristocracy from Estarra is shaken after so many unexpected deaths of their siblings to a ‘sudden disease’. What a strange way to call being drowned or crushed during the collapse of the marketplace… Meanwhile, one of the survivors claims he had hired an Yssian-looking man shortly before the unfortunate events. We’ve received several inquiries from said survivor, declaring that this employee of his had simply disappeared.” “You’re saying it could have been Masamune?” Ieyasu groaned, running his hand over his face. He fought the urge to rub at his eyes, deep dark circles underneath them leaving no room to speculate over his condition. “Indeed. I can’t think of many other one-eyed giftless Yssians, left alone ones able to cause so much  trouble.”

Mitsuhide got up from his place and strolled towards the cabinets. He leaned against one, gazing into it through the glass pane. Having pressed the handle, his hand snuck inside, long elegant fingers curling around a small pouch. “Hey, what are you doing?” Ieyasu opposed, Mitsuhide ignoring him completely and instead pulling one of the crystals out. “They’re emptied so fast, aren’t they?” he hummed, turning around. “The Noble Houses of the West are concerned with sudden influx of deaths. They’re suspecting the Plague of Yss might have returned. Their gods haven’t listened to them the last time, they may take matters in their own hands – to eradicate the curse, as they’d say.” “Get to the matter already.” Mitsuhide put the crystals back to where they came from, smile disappearing from his face for a moment. “I presume I should. Nobunaga assumed you would use your healing abilities as soon as an opportunity came your way. By his order, I am here to remind you not to overexert yourself.” Ieyasu frowned, a tinge of something – anger? Self-loathing? – flickering in his eyes. He rubbed his temples, clicking his tongue in discontentment. “So I’m supposed to just let people die?” “I presume more lives could be saved if one of the few medics capable of inventing a cure wasn’t hallucinating from exhaustion,” Mitsuhide stated blankly, walking towards the door. “There’s nothing to hate oneself for in that.”

Mitsuhide exited the room, the absence of his words causing for the air to buzz. Ieyasu glanced around, utterly defeated by both tiredness and the weird burning overtaking his soul. He stood up abruptly, his feet rushing him outside to follow his friend. Standing in the corridor, Ieyasu saw him get further and further away. “Never use your reading on me!” he shouted after Mitsuhide. “Any person with a single eye or ear could tell your condition, you don’t need a special kind of connector for that,” he claimed, not looking back even once. Ieyasu shook his head. Dizziness crumbling his body, he leaned against the wall.

Why was he even born as a healer, if he was too weak to use his ability to the fullest?  

***

Her muscles tense and sore after the entire day spent in travel, Mai turned over hay, then covered with a blanket. Masamune nestled against her stomach, they began to fall asleep, neither hunger nor thirst troubling her after the diner, even if for the first time in a while. Warmth spread through her body, the darkness of the attic wrapping around them like a thick duvet.

She heard something coming from the room below her – a voice. Mai strained her ears, listening in to the faintest of sounds. A song? “‘Cause I love you, And I care for you, And I want to see you smile.”

Mai looked at Masamune, running the back of her fingers over his snout, sobbing making it through the wooden ceiling. “‘Cause I love you And I’ll hold you until the end of time. ‘Cause I’ve been loving you…”

She pulled the dragon up, hugging him tightly to her chest. “And I don’t give a fuck,” came the last line, followed by a bitter laugh. For a moment, she could have sworn she heard a name being called: Mirka. Perhaps the girls she had met earlier that day weren’t just friends.

The crying had to stop eventually, yet the song remained stuck in her head. His forehead clad in scales, she kissed it all the same. “You’re still my Masamune and we’re going to turn you back. You’ll have a lot to make up for, for making me worry like that,” she whispered, her voice hitching ever so slightly. He squawked – and although she shouldn’t be able to know, she knew. “I love you too.”

[larkylabs]

So impractical clothing/hair on characters who fight is a HUGE pet peeve of mine. I'm sick of seeing female warriors with untied hair and leather bikinis. I guess should've been annoyed by OB. But this is your aesthetic, I respect that and I'm actually very grateful that you're equal about it. Virion's hair is as impractical as it's lovely and he's showing as much skin as MC. Argandea is practically shirtless. Lea gets practical gear and her hair is tied. Love it all!

Maybe because my English is not well enough, but I really don’t understand the point of this ask? If you were just trying to make conversation by randomly mentioning your “pet peeves” to me, ignore this whole reply.

But if this is a “friendly” hidden lecture in the shape of a compliment, I don’t get it.

You love the designs but you are annoyed by them? It’s your pet peeve, but it’s okay because men have it too? Is it an adaptable pet peeve depending on the situation?

Or are you trying to say, “It should have been practical armor because I’m personally sick of women in leather bikinis, but at least the men are -skimpy- too, so there is that.”?

Did I get righteousness points only for that?

Am I serving the male gaze by making a mother and a magic user MC to wear whatever the hell she wants and likes?

Is Alwenn, Lea and every other female character in OB semi-naked? Does MC’s mother wear a leather bikini too?

Or is this about you personally not feeling like you can get immersed with a complex and strong female character, because she is wearing a bikini top?

Or is it difficult to picture a woman casting fire with her bare hands and summoning demons, because she is wearing a leather bikini? Is this about bikinis at all?

Do you preach about equality and women’s right to wear whatever they like EXCEPT in a fantasy setting?

Boy, will it be a strange day when women don’t get passive( or active, I guess) aggressively shamed for their tastes in (fantasy) outfits both by men and other women.

Thanks for your approval of the equality in my games, Anon. Glad to know you  love it all!

I’m sure your intention wasn’t to lecture me or to tell me what to do in my game. You’ve already mentioned “you respect my decision to like whatever I like”, but it sounds like a passive aggressive remark and I don’t like those. Especially not in the shape of compliments. Especially not when it looks like a fight for equality, but sounds a lot like another kind of oppression. Let’s not mention each other’s pet peeves without context if not asked, to eliminate misunderstandings and accidental bias.

[koriand]

Three Rascals (Asra x MC x Muriel)

Summary: In which you, the MC, are childhood friends with Muriel and Asra. A story from the past.

A/N: I had a burst of inspiration for some scenarios between MC, Asra and Muriel. This is the first one so far and I hope y'all like it! I haven't written in a looong time, so you'll have to forgive my crappy writing.

Edit: My dumbass wrote Asra with male pronouns when they're nonbinary, so I fixed that! Thanks to tumblr user voidelsspussyblr for mentioning it in the replies! 💕

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Two children walked the streets of Vesuvia, hand in hand. One had a small, frail frame; their skin was the color of sand, dipped with rays of a gold sunset, and their hair was pure white, with beautiful curls to frame their face. The boy next to them was taller, and bulky; he had a more olive hue to his skin, though. The bags under his eyes were prominent, and his dark hair was long, with noticeable split ends. They both came trotting towards your father's bakery, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling your younger self filled to the brim with excitement. Asra and Muriel. But, that excitement slowly died down as you remembered how long the line for bread and pastries was.

The bakery was almost never full at this hour, but the seasons were shifting-bringing in cold air-which meant customers coming at random times of the day; all to get some freshly baked pumpkin bread. Asra and Muriel stopped outside of the bakery, perfectly within your eyesight. Asra waved at you with a warm smile, while Muriel raised his hand and then lowered it. You waved back, and gestured for them to wait. You turned to your father, Selasi, while he spoke with a customer. You stood there for a minute, impatiently waiting for the conversation to end.

"I hope Ashanti is able to carry the baby full term."

"Thank you, Selasi, it means a lot to us."

"Dad," You interjected. Your father gave his last thank you's to the customer, and turned towards you.

"Sweetie, you know you shouldn't interrupt my conversations!" He scolded you, but then the corner of his lips gave way, and he laughed. He leaned into you, whispering. "Thank you, though, otherwise he would have dragged the conversation further." You giggled, knowing exactly what he meant. You quickly change subjects, desperate to go out with Asra and Muriel.

"So, dad, is it okay for me to leave now? I've been helping most of the day, and I'm pretty sure it should be Kehlani's shift by now." You said, eager for him to dismiss you. Kehlani was your older sister, though, not the most responsible one at that. Your father smiled.

"Are your friends here?" He asked, one eyebrow raised. You nodded, noticeably excited. He shook your hair. "You can go out now, but on one condition: do not get into trouble. It was hard enough explaining to Mrs. Holloway why her garden didn't have any of her favorite flowers without getting the three of you involved." You rolled your eyes at him.

"Dad, you know that Asra needed ingredients for a spell! Muriel was sick with a fever that wasn't coming down! I had to help!" Your father laughed a hearty laugh. His chest filled with pride in the knowledge that he's raised a kind child. He extended his hand expectantly, and you untied your apron, handing it over quickly. You went to the back of the bakery, snatched two loafs of pumpkin bread, and ran out to the streets to meet your friends.

"Hey," Asra called out, as you felt yourself be swallowed by too many faces, customers, and vendors. You turned to your right, and gave them the most sincere smile you could muster, but walked sheepishly towards them. You presented the bread and Asra gasped. It was still warm as they felt it; they leaned into you and gave you a peck on your cheek. "Thank you." Blush creeped into your face, and your smile became small. Muriel looked at you and offered a smirk as an expression of gratitude.

"What do you guys want to do today? We could go to the underground theatre, and watch the new play." You suggested, but it already seems Asra had something else in mind.

"We want to show you our home, and also, Muriel has something he wants you to see." Asra says, already pulling Muriel behind them. Muriel extends his hand for you to hold, and you do. His hands are dry, calloused, even for a young boy. You thought about the fact that they both pick up odd jobs for sustenance; Muriel does hard labor, meanwhile Asra has taken up a spot where he performs with his snake familiar, Faust. Muriel's work must be hardening his palms. You wish they didn't need to do these things.

You walked around the outskirts of Vesuvia, among trees, and chattering birds. The trees surrounding you were tall, and the forest was not devoid of color, because you saw many, beautiful, wild flowers during your journey to the boys house. You felt your grip on Muriel's hand tighten when you heard a wolf howl. Muriel let out a low laugh, and Asra snickered.

"It's alright, the wolves are harmless." Muriel speaks, looking back at you with a closed lipped smile. You nod, wishing you could relax, but not being able to. You stop in front of a big tree, with a door at its center. You stare at it for a bit, while Asra and Muriel pick up random branches to start a fire with. A chicken comes gawking, and you nearly jumped out of your skin, letting out a scream. The chicken screeched back, and, immediately, you begin to laugh, and the boys do too.

"I didn't think you were so jumpy!" Asra says through their laugh. You keep laughing, and the chicken just bobs its head. Muriel comes over, scooping up the chicken in his arms, and presenting it to you.

"You have to relax and pet it gently." Muriel instructs. You wipe your tears from laughing, and take a deep breath. You extend your hand to pet it, but it gawks at you again, and you pull your hand back just as quickly.

"I don't think he likes me, Muriel." You say, giving him an embarrassed smile. Muriel nods.

"Maybe you're right." He says, giving the chicken a worried look. "It could be because he's never seen you before." You shrug, opening your moth to say something, but are quickly cut off.

"Hey, you two, come inside." Asra says, already kicking the door open, because their arms are filled with branches and twigs. Muriel places the chicken down, going inside the house as you follow pursuit. You notice it's a small hut, just enough space for one or two adults, but three children can comfortably fit here.

"I like your house, it's very cozy." You say, noticing one bed in the far right corner, a fireplace in the center, and small table to the left. Asra throws the branches in the fire place, and they're about whisper a spell, when Muriel interrupts them by lighting a match and throwing it in. Asra gives him an annoyed glance.

"You still don't know how to handle fire magic well, Asra. Remember last time?" Muriel asked. You snort, remembering how they almost burned your hands by trying to warm up bread. Asra pouted, but didn't respond. Asra sits on the bed, Muriel sits next to his legs and you sit next to Asra. You spend the rest of the day braiding Muriel's hair, and learning how to make flower crowns with Asra.

It's night time now, and Muriel wakes up from his nap. He notices both you and Asra sleeping soundly on the bed. Asra has their face buried against your neck, and you have your leg under theirs. Muriel smiles, remembering how you both beckoned him to come nap on the bed. He refused, worried he would somehow crush you both, even though, he wasn't that big; just taller, and with a bit more muscle than both of you. He stood up, and lightly shook Asra awake. You were a heavy sleeper, so Asra found themself giggling when they noticed your lips slightly parted, and drool sliding from it. He quietly asked Muriel to bring over a cloth, and gently wiped away the saliva they could get. Asra leaned into your forehead and gave you a kiss.

"Hey, wake up." They whispered into your ear. You woke up abruptly, shaken, and even slightly irritated. Your mind began to settle, and you looked around the hut. Oh no, you thought.

"What time is it?" You asked, scared. You hoped it wasn't too late into the night, knowing your father would definitely ground you if you got home late.

"It's night time, and I know you have to go home, but before that, Muriel and I want to show you something." Asra said, while standing up from the bed. You rubbed your eyes, and stretched. You remember that Asra had mentioned this earlier.

Asra grabbed Muriel's hand, and he offered his to you again. The three of you set off in the darkness of the forest. Asra managed to conjure a small ball of light with their free hand, sending shivers down your spine. You'd seen Asra perform different types of magic tricks plenty of times, but this time it felt different. This was pure energy flowing through them, and they were in full control of it. You gazed in awe. The three of you stop on a spot in the forest, like a small clearing, with yellow, blue, and glowing flowers. Muriel and Asra sit down, and place you between them both.

"What are we doing?" You asked. Asra shushed you, asking you to lower your voice.

"The Heart of the Forest comes here sometimes, and Asra thinks tonight will be one of the nights we get to see it close. We've only seen her from far away, but maybe tonight will be different." Muriel whispered, green eyes looking in your direction. Muriel wasn't one to be overly expressive, but right now, under the moonlight, and with the help of the glowing flowers, you could see excitement in his eyes for the first time. You felt yourself smile. You wish you could somehow keep him this way forever; if you were an artist, you would have found a way to commit his green eyes into paper or canvas.

"I thought The Heart was a myth?" You asked too soon, as you heard twigs snap under heavy hooves. The beautiful creature came from between the trees, glowing like an ethereal being only can; the deer-bird hybrid had feathers of iridescent colors all through her body, she was tall, and with antlers twice the normal size of any deer; her antlers were pure white, with shiny spiderwebs intertwining them, and crystal beads of water on the webs. You stared at her in complete astonishment, but something was wrong. Her breathing seemed ragged, and her eyes darted from every corner of the clearing. Your brows furrowed in worry. Your instincts tugged at you, wanting to go near her.

You stood up slowly, moving your gaze to the ground. A sacred creature deserves respect. You thought. All the myths of The Heart spoke of people's care for her.

Muriel lifted his hand to stop you, but it only got mid-way, not wanting to scare The Heart away. Asra and Muriel exchanged puzzled looks behind you. The Heart stood still when she noticed your movement. You kept your head down, and walked cautiously. Once you were five feet apart from her, you stopped; she kept her place.

Maybe I should bow. You thought. You bent your posture, bowing to the creature before you. The Heart snorted, and closed the gap between you both by placing her snout against your forehead. You prudently lifted your gaze, and looked at her eyes. Your hand slowly made it's way to pet her head, and immediately, a surge of energy overcame you. Magic flowed through your arms, and in the air; Asra stood up promptly after noticing this, because their hands were glowing, while your entire being glowed too; The Hearts eyes lit up, and so did her feathers. You felt your pulse pick up, and a far off voice came reverberating through your mind. It sounded like a woman's.

"Help. Hide." She said. "Hunters." You gasped.

"Muriel, Asra, she says she needs help hiding! People are hunting her!" The Heart looks directly at both boys, and you can feel her fear. Muriel and Asra nod fervently, and Muriel immediately springs to hist feet. The sound of galloping comes near, and The Heart begins to tense.

"Follow me, my lady, I'll take you somewhere safe." Muriel whispers as he begins to run into the woods. You look at the deer, and give her a reassuring expression. She runs off behind Muriel, as you and Asra stay behind.

"We need to cast a spell to cover The Heart's tracks!" Asra spoke to you. You looked back at them, desperation in your face. "Just repeat after me." They said, walking towards you, and holding your hands in theirs.

"Winds of South, come strong to us, erase this path, and make it visible no more!" Asra whispered; you spoke behind him, your voice trembling. One of his hands let go of yours, and he directed it towards the path Muriel and The Heart took. You mimic his gesture, and the wind picks up, howling in its sudden awakening. Dirt, leaves and everything in between begins to move, effectively covering the tracks. Once you're both satisfied, you stop, and the wind dissipates with you.

Soon enough, a man with a golden arm, blonde hair, and luxurious clothing comes into view. This must be Count Lucio, you realized. Everyone spoke about his lost arm, replaced by a mechanical one made of gold.

"You two!" The man shouts, and points a finger at you both. Your grip on Asra's hand tightens. "Have you seen the deer? I need it." Two guards come galloping behind him.

"No, sir, I don't think I've seen any deer in this forest." Asra replies quickly, and sounding very convincing at it. The man scowls, but doesn't look away from either of you.

"What are two children doing in a forest, during the night anyways?" Asked one of the guards. Asra offered a smile.

"We go lost on our way home." Asra replied, with complete ease.

"Count, what should we do?" He asked. The Count thought for a long moment, and began moving away.

"Let's go back to the palace."

"But, Count, the children."

"They'll find their way out eventually." He said with finality as he kicked his horse, and sped off. The guards followed close behind him. You and Asra sighed in relief, relaxation washing over you.

"We should go back to the hut." Asra spoke. You agreed, and walked hand in hand with them.

Near the hut, you spot Muriel; he's sitting next to the door, holding and iridescent feather. He sees you both and smiles a genuine smile. You run to him, and wrap your arms around him tightly; Asra follows behind you, and throws themself ontop of you both. The three of you are laughing, and all the worries of your father grounding you go out of you mind. All you can think about is this moment.

"We did it, Muriel, we saved The Heart of the Forest!" You say loudly and cheerfully. You lean in and kiss his cheek, and Muriel's face goes red. Asra kisses his other cheek, and the three of you hug again. It's an amazing night, and neither of you want it to end.

[sassycassie-s-series]

All My Fault 8

By: SassyShoulderAngel319

Fandom/Character(s): DC, BatFam - Damian Wayne/Batman

Rating: PG

Notes: (Masterlist) Little bit of Cloudy’s backstory!

Tag List (Open): @probsjosh @batboys-and-other-messes @nanna-the-batmum @welovegroot

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7

^^^^^

It was rare for me to have the Batcave all to myself. But Bruce and Tim had a meeting to attend at Wayne Enterprises so Alfred drove them, and Dick and Jason went to go check on their pal, Roy. Heaven knew where Damian disappeared off to. Probably off walking one of his plethora of pets or something. As far as I knew, Cass was on a mission somewhere and wouldn’t be back for another several weeks under the cover that she was attending school somewhere in Japan—or so I’d gathered from the boys’ chattering. I wasn’t entirely sure they knew where she was either, to be honest.

So I was weirdly alone. In the Batcave.

Singing “Total Eclipse of the Heart” at the top of my lungs in a way I hadn’t sung in a long time.

You’d think the fact that everyone is constantly somewhere else on business of some sort meant that I’d be home alone a lot but nah. Someone was always around asking if I’d turn my music down or not sing so loud because it had been a long night last night and they were trying to sleep or working on a case and needed to concentrate. Depending on who was asking, I often got varying levels of politeness. Dick’s was always, “Oh, Cloudy, could you please turn it down just a little? Please?” Whereas an extremely sleep-deprived Tim once snapped, “Who’s playing that racket?! Shut it off I can’t hear myself think!”

I never begrudged him the breach in manners, though, because I was fairly certain he’d been awake for 72 hours at that point. Usually he was nicer.

Surprisingly, Jason and Damian never used to give me much flak for listening to music loudly and/or singing along. Even though Jason’s room was on the other side of my bathroom from mine so he always got to listen to my shower renditions when he was home. Sometimes I’d get a text from one of them saying something like, “Hey can you turn it down for a little while?” but for the most part they left me alone.

This time, no one appeared to be in the Batcave at all so I sang to my heart’s content. The way I used to when my parents were alive and I wasn’t a ward of Bruce Wayne.

I stopped my song. My parents…

I ran over to the Bat-computer and looked up McCloud Software.

There was a news report from the day I arrived in the future as one of the top results. I clicked on it.

“Today marks the eighth anniversary of the disappearance of Nora McCloud, daughter of Jaqueline and Lyle McCloud of McCloud Software—the company that has taken leaps and bounds in the field of software design and innovation. Jaqueline and Lyle McCloud were tragically killed in a car accident when their daughter was sixteen. She was taken in by her parents’ business partner and good friend Bruce Wayne until her disappearance. Nora was slated to take over as CEO of the family company, only to disappear three days before she could take the reins. Since then, McCloud Software has been run by Lyle McCloud’s close friend and long-time business advisor Michelle Eden...”

I clicked out of the news report over to the stocks of my parents’ company, comparing them to the rest of the market through the eight years I missed when Damian brought me to the future and the timeways collapsed. My mom taught me how to read stocks from the time I was three. The company’s stocks mostly followed the trends—except one dramatic dip in 2021 that quickly climbed back up.

McCloud Software stock drop, 2021, I typed into the search bar.

SOFTWARE SCANDAL! McCloud database hacked, thousands of users at risk. I should have expected nothing less than a scandal to drop stocks.

But that wasn’t the top hit. It was the second-to-top—I just noticed it first because of the caps-locked title. The top hit said, McCloud Software database hack leaks emails that confirm Michelle Eden and Lyle McCloud affair.

“What?!” I demanded quietly, jumping to my feet and storming over to the case where my Cloudburst costume hung. Once I pulled the door to the case open, I threw off my shirt and started undoing my belt to get my skinny jeans off.

“McCloud? What happened to the music? I was enjoying your singing,” Damian remarked, descending the stairs.

I froze, half-naked and out in the open of the Batcave with no shirt and halfway out of my trousers. I yanked my skinny jeans back into place and covered my bra with my arms. “Damian!” I shrieked, whirling to look while keeping my back to the stairs as much as possible. “I thought no one was here.”

“No, I was upstairs designing a new evening gown for your appearance at the charity gala,” he replied, politely looking away from me with a sketchbook under one arm and a cup of tea in his other hand. “Were you… intending to go somewhere?”

I scooped up my shirt and pulled it back on aggressively. I pointed at the computer screen. “What do you know about the scandal that Michelle and my dad had an affair?” I asked.

Damian came down the rest of the stairs, looking at me now that I was decent. There was an intense look in his eyes. He set his sketchbook and cup down before gently resting his hands on my shoulders. “We’ve been keeping an eye on your company for you, I swear,” he said, peering down at me.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” I said. “Did Michelle actually have an affair with my dad?”

Damian hesitated. “We were never certain—”

“Damian,” I warned.

“As far as we could figure, no. It was just slander. Tim pored over both your father and Eden’s writing styles for two days before coming to the conclusion that the emails were planted. They were too different from the usual. However, we must consider the emotional aspect of passion and the fact that people don’t necessarily write the same when they’re exchanging romantic sweet nothings.”

I turned back to my Cloudburst costume, sliding out from under Damian’s hands on my shoulders.

“McCloud, wait,” he protested, grabbing my hand. It sent a charge all the way up my arm. He tugged back on me gently. “Cloudburst cannot go and interrogate the CEO of your company. She may figure out that Cloudburst is invested in this because she is Nora McCloud. You can confront Michelle at the charity ball as yourself if you wish, but not now.”

When I kept looking at my suit, Damian pulled me closer and wrapped his arms around me. Less like a cage and more like a hug.

“Please,” he added. “I understand that you are upset, but now is not the time.”

I was so surprised that he said “please” that I looked up at him. He was looking down at me intensely, his eyes searching my face with the same soul-piercing look they’d had when he first showed up in my past and seemed to be disbelieving that it really was me.

I sighed. “Alright. But I'm going to ask her about it at the ball, assuming she attends,” I relented.

“It’s likely she will be. For your sake,” Damian said. His hand slid down my arm and he wrapped his hand around mine. His hand was warm and I started wondering if he had some sort of electric powers that he’d never told me about with the charge running up my arm from the contact. “Come upstairs. I’d like to ask your opinion on the designs.”

“Can’t I just go to a store and find an evening gown?” I asked.

“Absolutely not. This is the first event where you will be seen in public in nearly a decade. A custom gown is the only way to go for image’s sake.”

“So you just… what? Casually design evening gowns?”

Damian pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Only for you,” he said, leading me out of the Batcave after taking his cup of tea and sketchbook off the table where he’d set them. “I mean, we have a significant lack of time for a professional designer to come up with one. I seem to recall your tastes in evening gowns. If I have created one you like, it would be quicker to have it made than to hire a professional designer.”

“Right,” I said, unsure of what else to say.

“Tea?” Damian offered as we got out of the Batcave.

“No thanks,” I replied.

“Yes, you don’t like tea, do you?”

“Nope. Tea, coffee, ugh.”

“May I grab you anything else?”

“No thanks.”

“Alright then. Come sit with me.” He led me into the main parlor and indicated I sit on the loveseat while he grabbed his drawing tablet from the sofa. He sat down next to me and placed his sketchbook on his lap. “First: basic designs. I went over the previous evening gowns you have worn to galas and attempted to balance them with your personal tastes and your particular… affinity for grand ballgowns.”

I snickered. “Okay,” I said.

Damian took a sip of his tea, set the cup off to the side, and opened his sketchbook. He leafed through several pages until he found what he was looking for. He wrapped the pages he didn’t need around the back. “This is just the first page,” he said. “Don’t assume these are all of your options.”

“How many pages are there?” I asked, noticing the first page had about six different designs on it.

“Five,” Damian said.

“Five?!” I demanded. “Dami, don’t you think that’s a little… much?”

He blinked at my use of a nickname. “… No?” he said. “Your first event in eight years to the public has to be just right. It’s vitally important that you wear something befitting your status as a high-profile young lady as well as all the attention that will be on you. Every camera will be on you almost all night, so you must look impeccable.”

“… Right,” I said. “Okay. Walk me through.”

“Of course. Now, once you select a few different designs, we’ll work on the coloring, yes?”

“Sure.”

“This one—” He tapped the dress he’d drawn on the top left corner of the page. I leaned a little closer to his side in order to see it better. He wrapped his left arm around my shoulder and pulled me closer so I had a better view with his arm out of the way. “—is intended to have a more form-fitting design, like most evening gowns. Most of what I’ve drawn have short sleeves and high necklines as I seem to recall your distaste for revealing too much skin—especially when you’re injured. This one is supposed to have sequins or jewels across most of it in order to sparkle like the night sky. It ought to be complemented with a sizable diamond necklace due to the wide but high neckline—”

“No thanks,” I interrupted. “I really don’t want to wear grand, expensive jewelry. Makes me so paranoid I'm going to break it.”

“Tt. In that case, perhaps you would prefer this one,” he said, tapping another design on the first page with the eraser end of his pencil. “It maintains the form-fitting, cap-sleeved design, but the neckline is narrower and a tad lower. Nothing too revealing, of course, but it does allow for smaller, less garish jewelry.”

“What are you gonna wear?” I asked.

“A tuxedo. As usual,” he said.

“I figured, but, like, are we doing the high school Prom matchy-matchy thing where my dress and your tie are the same color?”

“Not unless you intend to wear a black evening gown. Which I would not recommend for your first event upon returning. It would seem as though you were mourning something rather than celebrating your return.”

“I was just kinda kidding, Damian,” I said, looking between his eyes and his sketchbook, very aware of his warm, strong arm still around my shoulders.

“Oh. Right,” he muttered. “Regardless, if you like the form-fitting, long style but don’t want the garish jewelry, this is the one I would consider.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Well, we’re nowhere close to finishing, McCloud,” he replied, almost playfully. “We’ve barely begun.”

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