#is he BOTCHED ??? DID THE FUCK UP MAKING HIM ????? MADE HIM TOO EMOTIONAL ?????

[willowser]

no but you guys. taps mic is this thing on. android bakugou that is having a whole life crisis because he can't stop wanting to be around you. can't stop wanting to talk to you. can't stop wanting to see if you feel as soft as you look. can't stop wanting you—when he knows it's all made up in his head, it can't be real, he's literally not a human being how could he have feelings like this WHAT is happening to him.

#i'm so insane for this YOU DONT GET IT #YOU DONT GET IT #he sees you and feels SICK and he's like what the fuck is happening to me #making excuses to talk to you and EVEN THAT IS LIKE ????? WHERE DOES THAT COME FROM ???? #is he BOTCHED ??? DID THE FUCK UP MAKING HIM ????? MADE HIM TOO EMOTIONAL ????? #like he KNOWS it cant be but god damn it does he YEARN every time he sees you #screams at the top of my lungs #✿ thoughts: bakugou

[drifting-pieces-blog-blog]

Listen there is so many characters that represent intergenerational trauma in bemis run, (Ra as Khonshu's dad and a foil to Elias, Ernst as the personification of the people who killed Marc's family) but then Bemis doesn't explore that or botches the exploration

Like we already the Khonshu-Elias foil from Lemire run and then there's the grandfather Marc never knew. Who he only knows about through Yitz. and like I hate Yitz and Ernst being the same person (and a rabbi, it's not egdy it's just antisemitic) but Ernst is compelling to me (you are allowed to also be bored by him).

Here is the personification of what your father escaped and hey maybe if you kill your grandfather's murderer you'd get closure? Ha ha no.

But also clearly that's a story that Jews, not edgelord messianics get to tell.

I refuse to ever say anything nice about Bemis.

So the characters that represent intergenerational trauma do NOT come from Bemis' run.

Let's head back to "Death of Elias Spector" by Zelenetz.

This is where we get the story of the generational trauma and start to understand Moon Knight… Where we start to understand Marc Spector.

Up to this point, we have seen him be angry about Antisemitism, fight neonazi scum, and protect Jewish shop-keeps and the likes. We see him get angry about the bombing of a Synagogue and we see him become emotional over the loss of friends.

Before Zelenetz, we understood these to all be proper responses for a Jewish man. Or even just a man in this time period.

But it's when we see the generational trauma that was put so heavily on Marc's shoulders that we start to see those responses as more. We start to see his inner struggles with identity and expectations. We see him be a good man that sees himself as a bad one.

Bemis didn't see any of this.

Bemis said "What if the Rabbi is a Nazi and Marc witnessed him killing people?" He wants it to be more about personal betrayal and revenge than about the horrors of what an actual Nazi is!

There was no undertone. There was nothing deep. This was a man TRYING to tell a deep story for the sake of feeling an egotistical rush so he can pat himself on the back and let people think he's a good Jew.

You don't have to make a Nazi into a supernatural serial killer out for blood to make them into a horror figure.

The real horror lies in the fact that they were regular people that did these things because someone with a little power told them that it was okay.

But let's play with the story a moment. For argument's sake.

Ra as Khonshu's father SHOULD have been a fantastic foil to Elias. Much like in MCU when Ammit was a foil to their mother.

We should have gotten the dissapointed father. We should have gotten the failure for Khonshu to change the world for the better. We should have seen Khonshu change and grow and be able to rise up and declare that HE protects the travelors of the night. That he has chosen a perfect Avatar that can change the world. That he is the Pathfinder, the Embracer, the traveler, and the Defender.

And with that, there is more than violence and fighting. that he can be gentle and kind too.

But we didn't get that.

And Khonshu remains the same.

Moving on to the grandfather. Marc's whole family was murdered in WWII. None of them made it out except for his father and mother.

We don't need an enemy to be a murdering Nazi that specifically targeted his grandfather to make Marc angry.

We don't need a revenge story. That isn't what Moon Knight is about. Because he can't forgive a Nazi. And a Nazi should not live. And there is no way Marvel is going to show him killing a former Nazi out of pure revenge and not have that mess up the character of Marc Spector.

This isn't a revenge story of him hunting down Nazi.

He should never have touched on this. Because there ARE real Nazi that got away with it. There are real Nazi fucks that did terrible things and then wandered off to live normal happy lives.

Having him hide in plain sight AS A JEWISH RABBI is such a kick in the teeth.

And I'm going to do a review specifically on this run in a bit. Expect that soon.

I liked having Yitz as YITZ. Marc getting close to an older Rabbi because he couldn't get close to his own father is a good story. It shows his disconnect with people his own age and his father. It also shows him studying the Torah and working hard to be a good perfect Jewish boy, which leads into Steven's side of things and then further into Jake's take on the spiritual protector.

Heck, an interesting story would be if Yitz had done something that he felt betrayed his trust because then we have a good solid role model that somehow abandoned him or hurt him in some way. And it wouldn't have had to be something terrible. Maybe he left to another state to be with a different Synagogue without warning. Maybe he died suddenly? Any of those things could have hurt him and made him feel alone, since he already didn't connect to children in his school or his own father. We know that Marc feels alone and worthless. It's not a far stretch to show that maybe it started from losing someone he looked up to as a good Jewish person and then not having a role model anymore.

I did not like Ernst. Was he interesting? Probably. I get where he can be compelling as a villain. We all want to hate a good Nazi villain. It's one thing Hollywood has shown time and time again.

But there is no closure in this. There will never be closure in this. Marc still lost his family. His grandfather was a drop in an ocean and if they REALLY wanted to put Nazi fucks in the story, they should have just had young Marc accidentally walk into a KKK rally or something. Because we don't need the threat of the old Nazi. The Nazi just changed their hats. They're still out here today.

This is a story Bemis should never have touched.

I apologize it if sounds like I'm angry. I'm not angry at you by any means!

I'm just so pissed off at Bemis. I respect your wanting to see a better story from the stones Bemis laid before us. It's nice to dream that he could have been a better writer.

Marvel has a lot to answer for and this is just one more thing they managed to really screw up.

#Moon Knight #ask away #Talk to me about Moon Knight #I want to punch Bemis in the face

[motheatenscarf]

Okay, we're 6 episodes in now and I wanted to wait and make sure the first 3 eps weren't a fluke, but they weren't.

I am really enjoying S2 of TLoVM so far!

It's still good!

S1 had a rough start, but like, pilots are hard. I get it. Selling people on this world and these characters is a lot, setting the right tone is hard. I don't even think they botched it, I think it was just awkward for those first few episodes, but by the end of the Briarwood arc they really proved they can make a worthwhile story out of this with fucking gorgeous animation and solid character work.

S2 continues to impress me in terms of animation, I complained that the one dragon of S1 along with a few undead warg looking things were janky as fuck and looked terrible. Not the case anymore! The Chroma Conclave are CG and they are GORGEOUS, both in design and the way they move, I'm so glad they gave them the attention they need! The Sphynxes looked a little wonky, but in a way that implied maybe they were made of stone, and they're not here for that long anyway, so it's nothing that doesn't work well enough to get you through until they don't matter anymore.

My one nitpicky ultra critical complaint remains what it's always been; character talk too fucking much when they could just shut up and trust their audience to put two and two together.

I know that's like... a petty thing to complain about, but god it annoys me. It shouldn't! It's not like this is trying to be high art or anything! It's a fun dumb adventure story with focuses on action, horror, and comedy, and 2/3 of those it nails every time! It just bugs me that they make crude jokes, they curse, they have gore out the fucking whazoo, they are clearly branding themselves as a Grownup Show For Adults, so the way some of the unnecessary dialogue holds people's hands through scenes like they are small children who don't have any kind of understanding of visual language just... annoys me.

Spoilers below the cut for the most egregious example of this specific gripe;

Okay, so Scanlan being the one to "wound" the Sphynx was something I saw coming a mile away. That's not a bad thing, I've said before if a narrative has done its job, you know what's coming because you've been paying attention to the themes and foreshadowing. I don't remember this being in C1, but I barely remember this part of C1, so that's not saying much, everything between the Briarwood arc and Westruun kinda blurs together for me. But! I knew that it was gonna be Scanlan and that he'd do his bard cutting words shit and wound the Sphynx by reminding him of Osysa. And he did! And it was a sweet moment, I liked that we see the effect it has on the Sphynx as he looks sad and cries. I am a human adult who understands simple emotional cues, I can see he is wounded. The fucking Sphynx does not then with his words need to tell me "You have done what no other has before, you have wounded me; you have wounded my heart." I know that! Scanlan knows that! We saw him crying!

The dialogue that follows is, y'know, clumsy, but I get why they have Scanlan say with his words that he is lonely even though everything in the narrative is beating us over the head about it. But god the whole "Oh, you have wounded me!" thing was just. It irritated me. Just have the Sphynx cry and THEN say, "You must know great love in your life to understand such pain as this." That's it! That's all we need!

It just bugs me!

And it shouldn't!

And I know it!

I'm fully aware how petty I'm being but my god, if you are making a grown up show for adults, trust your audience to be able to discern that a SAPIENT BEING THAT IS CRYING. IS EMOTIONALLY WOUNDED. For FUCK'S SAKE.

Anyway, A- so far, the animation really is amazing and the characters and world are a lot of fun. It's fun! It's fun and worthwhile and good and doesn't try to be anything more than what it needs to be, which is good, I'm just insane and impossible to please.

#Caitlin watches TLoVM #Caitlin watches Critical Role

[letamthoughts]

TÁR (2022)

i really like it (mid/high tier) 10/10

i could've been a pianist :| oh fucking well i guess great shit like, damn like watching an unraveling or unwinding dat end credits track tho shit go hard was an interesting trip to see pre-credits, but it makes since in hindsight wonder what her forgetting where she came from meant, and what he put on the stand before walking away interesting that things can get chopped up like that, but yeah really interesting things going on beyond and around Tár

The Get Off Your Couch List (just for the sound, really) The Blind List (1/5) The Depression List (sex & gender)

(Minor Spoilers)

so Tár's a transman or are they just Petra's father in the household? 🤔 interesting to see it either way and rewatch methinks the consequences of a transactional lifestyle what was her wife's missed phone call about?

(Moderate Spoilers)

she undid herself in the end bad habits and all did she get her interview response from that recording? 🤔 why the tears? Tár not recognizing the date as International Women's Day was a clear sign of her masculinity and maleness she's definitely Petra's father in terms of identity, behavior, and lifestyle doing all the things stereotypical of a male in power; like, damn conversation with the old guy made more sense now; she was asking for advice (basically) on how to proceed and cover herself dude's "I'm out of the game" was quite poignant in that regard, especially with him making sure his hangers were all facing the same direction very effective way of handling the dude calling her out in private; should've stayed on that shit, but she was too aggressive and imposing in the moment need to rewatch soon

just realized, this movie would make for interesting discussions from a... certain perspective? 🤔 nevermind the whole trans matter 😐

(Major Spoilers)

the bullying of the student was quite a foreshadow in regards to her end fucked up that she took it so far as to coerce him into taking part in and playing Botch Bach's music (he was right) to lose it all so easily how she handled her assistant's emotional turmoil is what did it methinks; o'girl saw her way of things way too quickly, so i assumed it was a script/performance/direction matter noice was the assistant wrong, tho? nah~ fuck Tár her not recognizing a call for help led to two deaths lady had bed soars for how long? and why's the sister sent to "a facility"? was she just being used as the only person helping mom, or did she lose it after? the new one/meat played the game on her ass; called it possibly (but doubtibly) shifted away after the case came out i take it she was the one live recording her and saying shit Tár didn't know about being replaced because she didn't have an assistant interesting that Krista Tyler's ghost followed her; maybe she died before the movie even began? makes the most sense methinks

#SPOILER IN THE TAGS #Thoughts #Tár #2022 #i really like it #10/10 #Sie FilmCenter #Major Spoilers #fuck Tár #Krista Tyler deserved better #Watched: January 2023 #The Get Off Your Couch List #The Blind List #BR: 1/5 #The Depression List (sex & gender)

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

#mothskier #mothman jaskier #cryptid jaskier #creature jaskier #witcher geralt #the witcher netflix #geraskier #geraskier ficlet #geraskier fic #geraskier fluff #bouncey's endless getting together fics #bouncey's endless au collection #LYSSA WHY #WHY DID YOU DO THIS TO ME #art and fic #collab sorta #prompt fill #geraskier prompt fill #bouncey answers #ahhhhhhhh #mothskier!!!!

[restapesta]

It was Mickey's idea. He'd said he used to do it back in the day; that it was his weird way of marking his territory of sorts. That it made him feel good, putting his art on the Southside walls for everybody to see.

So when his husband suggested it with a sheepish look on his face, Ian had said yes without hesitation. He was excited even, finding the prospect of heading back to the place they grew up and putting graffiti on the walls just like Mickey used to do enticing.

Now they were here, standing in front of a wall near the bleachers, a multitude of secrets hidden beneath them at their spot where they would undoubtedly head to after they were finished. The two were next to one another, only a few feet separating them as they observed the blank canvas before them.

"So, you used to this?" Ian asked his husband as they stood stoically in the dark, their date night just as fucked up as they were.

Mickey shot him a grin. "You don't remember the, 'Ian Gallagher is a dead man'?"

That was enough for Ian to simply nod in understanding, an awkward—and slightly nostalgic—ahhh moving past his lips. "Got it."

"Relax, Gallagher, you know I crossed that shit out after the first hook up."

Ian grinned at the memory, moving around to catch a glimpse of his surroundings.

Nobody was really around at one in the morning to catch them—this being a spur-of-the-moment idea, paying off at least in some way.

It was Mickey who moved first.

Ian eyed him as he grabbed the duffel he brought along. He had packed it with some weird shit he'd grabbed from some sketchy bags back at their place. With obvious apprehension, he pulled out two spray bottles, one red, one black.

So that was what he kept in them, Ian thought as he stared at his husband, wondering what other types of shit they had in their home.

He handed the red one to Ian, smirking silently.

Ian smiled to himself, catching on. Appropriate.

At first, Ian just watched Mickey approach the building silently.

He watched fucking mesmerized as his husband finally pressed onto the bottle, drawing across the wall, the concrete chipped and somewhat dirty, that Southside etched into it.

Mickey drew random lines and shapes, all methodical and calculated, creating something out of nothing, making Ian gape at the wonderful image appearing in front of him.

Some would say they were just scribbles, but to Ian—and Mickey too—they were more. They were a showcase of Mickey's talent; his love for art that translated into wonderful creation of something akin to what they were staring at now. Something abstract.

Something meaningful.

"It's fucking amazing, Mickey." Ian breathed as the love of his life scoffed and rolled his eyes, blushing nonetheless.

"Shut up," Mickey muttered finally as he finished his art with his signature, Mickey M, that he spray-painted widely over the wall. So widely that it was art in and of itself, all cursive and beautiful.

Once he was done, he turned to Ian who was still shockingly appreciating the view. He pressed a light kiss to Ian's cheek, his eyes lighting up in happiness at what they were doing. Ian guessed it had to do with the reminiscing of Mickey's past and them being together, an odd yet good match.

Mickey gestured to the wall and said softly, "Come on, your turn."

Under Mickey's expectant gaze, Ian found himself blushing furiously.

He wasn't as fucking talented as Mickey was—Mickey was fucking special when it came to a lot of things, and as much as Ian would like to say the same, he really couldn't.

He sucked at art, and he knew, without a doubt, that if he started drawing now, he'd ruin what had already been beautifully created by his husband.

So with a slight glance at Mickey and a gulp, Ian made his decision.

He raised the red spray paint, positioning it against the wall, following Mickey's short instructions on how to do it properly—do this, do that—and then he wrote + IAN G. 🖤 right next to the large Mickey M.

He stepped away as soon as he was done, his eyebrows creasing in disdain at the red paint slightly smeared at the end, not too shabby at best.

Mickey M + IAN G. 🖤

He smiled at his handiwork, despite it being flawed in contrast to his man's, his name besides Mickey's signature, right underneath the wonderful image Mickey had conjured up.

Ian turned to gaze at Mickey in the dark, his facial expression only illuminated by the moon.

He seemed like he was holding back tears, gnawing on his lower lip as he avoided Ian's gaze and stared straight at the simple, somewhat botched letters Ian wrote.

"Mick?"

Ian took a step back from the wall and towards Mickey. As soon as he came close enough, Mickey drew his arms across his waist from the side, leaning against the crook of his shoulder, eyes still not moving.

Ian reveled in the warmth of his partner pressed up against him.

"I fucking love it." He sniffed, and Ian, for a moment, knew that the emotions were appropriate. Ian himself was close to tears.

As they continued staring at it together, Ian wondered if he should move away, pick up the spray paint, and also add forever, just because he fucking could.

Mickey did it for him.

Mickey M. + IAN G. 🖤 forever

They were.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian and mickey #shameless #shameless us #fanfic #ian x mickey #ficlet #drabble #short #inspiration STRUCK #:) #*ficlet

[the-fanaddict]

an in depth analysis of why every character was written horribly, even without the dumb reset

Steve

I mean this one’s obvious. We had someone with such great character development in Trollhunters, 3Below, and Wizards. Personally think that Steve was fine in Wizards (I like his knight subplot) and I thought they were setting up Steve recreating knights of the roundtable, but guess not lol. 

He didn’t even get to fight. He had a strong start in the movie and his concern for Jim really shows his growth from being his bully, but then he got immediately turned into a punchline.

Eli

All of Eli’s involvement with the plot happened offscreen. It’s great that he created the gun robot, but that’s it. Then he got turned into a midwife for Steve. 

Krel

Also a lot of the involvement happened offscreen. He remade the amulet which was cool, but it should’ve held more weight. The amulet should’ve been introduced way later into the movie. 

And okay as much as I love Stuart why did he need to fix the Amulet KREL WAS RIGHT THERE WHY WAS STUART RELEVANT

I know Stuart is good with electronics and he even made Seklos’ canon back in 3below but this is such an annihilation of Krel’s genius.

Plus the whole “It needs to have Merlin’s magic” thing was bs HELLO DOUXIE WAS RIGHT THERE THE ORIGINAL AMULET WAS ALSO MADE WITH HIS MAGIC

Aja

I’m glad she’s come into the role of queen, but by god she was so cold to Jim for no reason. She knows what it’s like to be powerless. She lost her parents to a coup and couldn’t do anything!!!! SHE AND JIM HAD THE MOST UNDERSTANDING IN 3BELOW. 

Also evacuating the earth goes so much against who she was in 3below. She ADORED the Earth. Loved everything about it, not just the people. 

And by god the kissing Akiridion lore is so dumb and so obviously thrown in there with no thought on how it would’ve affected 3Below. The kissing tree is ruined and her relationship with Steve is ruined.

Claire

bruh what do you mean her magic is spent this was not a problem in Wizards. She barely does any shadow magic and then it is spent. How many times are you gonna nerf her like that

I’ve always said Jlaire is what Hiccstrid should’ve been and in the end they become what I dislike about Hiccstrid. Claire was a prize for Jim and was reduced to Girlfriend who Fights. She didn’t have any meaningful or fun interactions with any other character. Really nobody did

Douxie

@douxie-casperan​ goes in much more in depth here https://douxie-casperan.tumblr.com/post/657457589076000768/rise-of-the-titans-and-the-assassination-hisirdoux but i’ll add my thoughts as well

the narrative just gives him one big trauma conga line without addressing any of it. Douxie was tortured by the order and absolutely no one wants to check he’s alright????? Just immediately start questioning him?? 

Archie was his companion for CENTURIES and all he says is “I hope he’s happy?????” honestly this was just httyd3 for them but without any of the emotion

Nari died and Douxie should’ve fucking snapped by that point. He should’ve gone avatar mode again when Nari got stabbed and help Nari kill Skrael on the spot. And then Nari would die. He should’ve been on his knees sobbing hearing Nari say “no more running” one last time. It would’ve been a great parallel to Wizards. 

And then he also was nerfed with his powers but with no explanation. The body swap spell was great. Power move. Everything else was no. Not to mention his magic was so inconsistent like hello that’s not what tenebris excellium does

He took on the order alone in wizards with a tenebris excellium but then bellroc overpowers him and flicks him away like w h  at. 

Toby

If Toby was going to die and have his friendship with Jim be prioritized at all, then for the love of god stop reducing him to a punchline. I mean the series has this issue as well, but he’s supposed to be important here. There are barely any meaningful moments with Jim outside of his death scene and moments from the series. 

Charlemagne 

Literally used as a plot device. Guy who knows a guy. I mean, that’s kind of what he was used for in Wizards as well, but his character moments with Douxie was why he was important. Honestly no reason for him to be in this movie. 

Archie

Archie CHOSE TO BE A FAMILIAR AND DEFY CHARLIE’S WISHES TO BE WITH DOUXIE AND THEN HE SAYS NO THANKS I’LL JUST BE WITH MY DAD FOREVER????????

Strickler + Nomura

Literally brought into this movie just to be a casualty. I will admit I like the small interaction between Douxie and Nomura but he barely knows her so there’s no reaction to it. Their deaths were so goddamn stupid how would a bomb defeat a magical being and why would you send a changeling to brazil. 

Jim

Jim. Oh buddy Jim. For a character with pretty much the only tangible arc in this movie, they sure botched that up. I was ready for the arc to be about him being weak, but I figured it would be due to turning human, not losing the amulet. We’ve been through the fact that without the amulet he’s still the trollhunter. But now he’s back to being powerless. That’s what his arc should’ve been about being powerless, not the amulet. 

I’m not a fan of making him the center of the movie when he’s had way more screentime than anyone else. and to learn a lesson HE ALREADY LEARNED. I wouldn’t have minded as much if his arc was handled any good. 

I hate to say this about one of my favorite emotional characters, but Jim kept angsting way too much throwing pity party after pity party for himself. Like we get it dude. Outside of that he was so emotionless as a leader. There was no charm to him at all. He honestly could’ve given less of a crap about anyone else besides the og gang.  He honestly reminds me a little of rtte!hiccup and how hiccup treated his friends terribly from time to time rip

Douxie getting tortured?? After he fought tooth and nail for him when Jim was hurt in wizards??? Immediately starts pestering him for answers. Where is his kindness? His selflessness? The trademark Jim sacrifice??? BECAUSE GOING BACK SURELY WASN’T A SACRIFICE

#rise of the titans #rott spoilers

[klbwriting]

Pirate’s Heart - Chapter 1

Perfect Color, or Not

Fandom: Six of Crows

Pairing: Kaz/female!Reader

Warning: so this chapter is pretty dark, Kaz’s backstory is dark and there is suggestion of sexual assault but it is not described

Song: Perfect Color - Safety Suit

Taglist: @sixofshadowandbone @thedelusionreaderbitch @itsemy01 @angelicdanvers @marinettepotterandplagg @screen-to-stage @aysegust @sagewrites111 @lilyoflower @hey-peeps @starjane312 @spawn0fsatan @myalupinblack​

Yellow nice to meet you

Do you know that you just blue my mind?

It was the perfect conversation, I think that I red about one time

And I told a white lie when I told you, I've never been green with envy you

You are the perfect color

 The song would not get out of Y/N's head and she hated it.  Pekka sang it to her about her tail all the time.  And she hated Pekka Rollins.  Well hated him as much as she could without a heart.  Why was she thinking so much anyway?  Wasn't she sleeping?  Why was she moving and why did she hear voices?  She groaned, eyes slowly opening to see two teenage girls standing above her.  They were gazing at her with curious eyes and she tried to wipe her own eyes, only to find her wrists were tied to the table she was laying on.  

"She's awake Nina," she said a girl with bronze skin and dark hair.  

"I can see that Inej," the other girl, creamy white skin with brown hair and freckles.  Nina was light eyed while Inej had dark eyes, and both girls were fourteen, maybe fifteen years old.  How long had she been asleep?  It couldn't have been that long, she didn't feel any older.  She turned her head, finding a mirror on a table nearby and seeing that she didn't look older, only dirty.  

"Where am I?" she asked.  She knew she was on a boat, she could feel the sea moving them, but how did she get there?  She was in the jungle before, bleeding, stabbed where her heart should have been.

“You’re on the Menagerie,” the one called Nina said. Inej tried to shush her and Y/N could hear footsteps nearby.  

“What have you girls brought me?” a beautiful blond woman asked, entering the room.  She was dressed in fine silks with an intricate peacock feather tattoo on her face, making her look almost like an animal herself.   Y/N felt a very strange pang of fear, dulled by her lack of heart, but she felt it enough to worry about this woman.

“Tante Heleen, we found her in the jungle when we were hunting,” Inej explained, her eyes downcast.   Y/N was fast learning that this woman was not to be trifled with, but she didn’t care.  She wanted out of these bindings and she would do what she needed to survive.  

“My, my, she is filthy, we will have to clean her up, get me the sponge and some water,” she demanded.  Nina did as asked, and Heleen started to clean her face.  “Not particularly special in the face, homely and plain.  Face too round for most men…eyes are dark but not special, lips are too pale will need color,” the woman continued, cleaning down her body and commenting on everything.  Breasts were too small, stomach too round, hips too wide, legs… She stopped at her legs, staring in shock as the bright scales that still dotted her thighs. They were remnants of her tail in case she ever got it back.  Heleen demanded Inej get a message out at the port for the commander, they had something special for him.

“What is it Tante?” Inej asked.  The look Heleen sent her made Inej run.   Y/N was becoming very aware of how this ship worked.  Heleen was a captain of some kind of pleasure vessel and all these poor young girls were stuck here attending to the men who paid for them.   Y/N was disgusted, and she could see from the look on the woman’s face that she was going to be the centerpiece of some kind of show for this commander. Like hell she would have another man touch her without her permission.   Y/N looked around the room and realized she would need to wait for her time to arrive.  She started to pretend to be scared, her acting not very good, it had been a long time since she’d been around anyone and Heleen saw right through it.

“O now, I see, you’re fearless are you?” she asked, a snake like smile on her face.  “Well, let’s get you dressed and shackled.  The commander will want us to report back to Argoes immediately.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed.  Like hell she was going anywhere near Argoes, not when Pekka was going to probably be there.  She would bide her time, wait for a moment to strike.   Y/N may have been a lovestruck mermaid but she was also a rare tail, trained to defend herself.  She knew things were different with legs but her upper body defensive maneuvers should be the same.  

Heleen had her hands shackled and took her to a room full of clothes, dresses in bright colors, silk, and lace.  Nina had followed, listening as the captain listed items for her to retrieve.  While they were distracted by clothes Y/N slid a hat pin into her hand, starting to work the cuffs.  Humans learned many things about mermaids and nearly none of them were true.  The idea that they were stupid, unable to function at the same level mentally as humans, they were underestimating Y/N right now and she was pleased.  

The child, Nina approached her, getting her dressed. Y/N saw the girl look at the hat pin, saw the shackles were no longer together and instead of outing her the girl said nothing.   Y/N smiled, she would let the girl live whenever she killed Heleen.  She wasn’t a monster, at least, she didn’t think she was. Heartless or not she wasn’t going to kill a child who was clearly being used by adults for terrible things.  

“Let me cut this string…” Nina said, moving to a dressing table and taking a pair of scissors and moving back to Y/N.  She cut a pretend string and slid the scissors into the sleeve of the dress she wore.  Their eyes met and an understanding crossed between them.   Y/N would kill Heleen, take this ship, and then she would take care of these children.  No more powerful men were going to use these babies for their own pleasure again.  

Heleen took her above, walked her to the side of the ship.   Y/N looked around, all the crew, everyone, was a child except for one man who seemed to be the muscle on this craft. All young girls of various ages, some as young as 7.   Y/N felt bile rising in her throat as she looked in the eyes of some of them, their eyes were much older than they should have been.  She looked at Nina and motioned for her to fall back a little bit. Nina took two steps back and sat down on the deck.  Heleen turned to face the mermaid as she stood, pointing to the island in the distance.

“Now, when we arrive at Argoes…” she didn’t finish her statement. Y/N sunk the scissors into Heleen’s eye, digging in as deep as she could.  She pulled them back out, feeling the blood on her face but not letting the warmth distract her.  As soon she killed Heleen the man came storming over, lumbering a large. Good.   Y/N ducked down, sliding under him and kicking out her leg.  He ran into it, nearly snapping it in half as he faltered, trying to balance.  For a moment she thought he would regain his footing and come for her but then Inej and Nina came out of nowhere and pushed him, sending him toppling over the side of the ship and into the sea.   Y/N stood up, rubbing her knee as she leaned to the rail of the ship.  

“Well, I’m sorry you had to see that…” she started.  Nina and Inej just shrugged and the rest of the girls on the ship looked at her.  She felt her soul ache for these children and realized maybe her soul could harness strong emotions, but it still didn’t feel completely real, still dulled by her lack of heart.  O well, she would protect these children, make them into a force a nature, show the world that they were more than just a body to warm a bed.  

“Come on, let’s push her over,” Inej said so some of the older girls, moving to Heleen’s body.   Y/N held out an arm.  

“No, you are children, you shouldn’t be disposing of dead bodies, you shouldn’t even be touching them,” she said.  “Get the ship ready, we are sailing for any port except Argoes.” She struggled but finally tossed Heleen’s body to the sea.  Turning she sought out Inej.

“Inej love, did you send that message like Heleen asked?” Y/N asked, gently touching the girl’s face.  Inej shook her head.  “Good. Now, you and Nina are my first mates alright?  So, where have you always wanted to go?”

  Kaz Rietveld didn’t know how long he had been on that boat in the middle of the ocean.  He didn’t know what day it was, what time, all he knew was that he was starving and so very thirsty.  Sitting in all this water was making it worse.  He had tried seawater, even knowing that it would do nothing but make him sick, but he had been desperate.  God, is this how he died?  15 years old and in the middle of the cursed ocean.  Fucking hell.  He should have just let his uncle know he was alive when he had the chance, but instead he had hid, never wanting to go back to that horrid fortress.  But instead, he was just going to die here.  O well, what really was his life worth anyway, crippled leg from a botched escape with his brother when he was 11 and now, well now he was broken entirely.  He knew that the moment they got on that boat, but he had gone anyway.  

He was laying down, ready to die, when the water moved, waves hitting the boat harder than before.  He sat up and looked seeing a pirate vessel flying the black colors approaching.  He knew this was his only chance.  Kaz could die in this boat or he could try his best at getting on that boat.  He waved his arms, screaming at the top of his voice.  He thought they were just going to pass but then a rope ladder was dropped down the side as they pulled up next to him.  He scrambled up the ladder and dropped on the deck, panting.  

“Water…please…” he begged.  The men around him smiled, looking like they had found a present. One of the men handed him a cup and he drank before spitting out the burning drink.  Whiskey, not water.  The pirates laughed at him and he saw a few cabin boys standing by, looking fearful of him. No, not of him, for him.  Kaz realized that he may have escaped one prison and wound up in another.  The spirit of the sea witches clearly wanted revenge on his entire family.  Taking his parents before he could remember them wasn’t enough, claiming his brother wasn’t enough, now he was stuck here. Fine.  If the sea wanted a war, he would give it one.  

For the first six months of his time aboard the Crow he was a cabin boy, but just in name.  Truly he was whatever the other men wanted him to be.  He was relieved when they brought aboard women for a week or two when he could just be a normal cabin boy.  Unless the women liked him too.  He noticed the two other cabin boys clung to each other, Jesper and Wylan, keeping each other as safe as they could.  One of the crew, an honorable ex-navy captain named Matthias also tried his best to protect them.  He often would give sleeping drafts to the crew to give the boys a night to themselves, but even he could only do so much.  

Kaz waited, biding his time until the captain himself wanted a visit. Then he put the plan he had with Jesper, Wylan, and Matthias into action.  

         Matthias put the poison in the crews dinner, which they ate at 6PM before moving to do night work on the vessel.  They were all dead before 6:30.  The captain ate his dinner at 7PM so Wylan stayed in his cabin, distracting him by being a bumbling fool and getting a severe punishment for it.  Kaz would have felt bad but he didn’t know if he was capable of feeless anymore.  Jesper brought dinner to the captain and helped a bloody Wylan out of the cabin. Kaz slid in as they left and stood, watching the captain as he ate his meal.  

         “Come here boy, I want a better look at you, want to see what all the fuss among the crew is about,” he said.  Kaz swallowed the sick in his throat and approached, letting the captain touch him, roughly feeling his hands on him.  Then the coughing started and Kaz let out a breath of relief.  The captain clutched his throat as his airways closed and soon he was dead at Kaz’s feet.  

         With the help of the others Kaz had the crew overboard and they headed towards a port far from Argoes to gather a new crew using the money the captain had stashed in a vault in his office.  The four of them argued over who would be captain but Kaz won out, being the only one truly willing to kill for the title.  He decided that as soon as he got to port it was time to reinvent himself. Kaz Rietveld was no more.  It was time to take a new name and become something else.

#six of crows #kaz brekker x reader #kaz x reader #kazbrekker #kaz brekker #kaz #pirates heart series #pirate kaz brekker

[bat-losers-inc]

Song of Cassandra: Chapter 2

Warnings: Family Drama, Family Issues, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Emotional Baggage, and Child Neglect

Summary: What is Batman without a Robin? Everyone in the family makes jokes about the ‘dead robins club’, but Dick and Jason really do have measures set in place for the day Bruce loses sight of what’s really important. They won’t let Bruce sacrifice another Robin for the cause, even if that means separating Robin from Batman for good.

Pairings: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Bruce Wayne, and Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

                            _____________________________________

Half a year later saw them performing a feat of brotherly bonding he’d never imagined possible: robbing Penguin together.

They’d left the Tricorner district behind in a streak of burnt rubber and a barrage of gunfire and ditched the getaway van in Chinatown at the first available 24-hour parking facility on the other side of the bridge. It was slower going on foot, but Chinatown’s busy night scene, combined with the heavy triad presence in this district, would make Penguin’s men hesitate before going in guns blazing. That was all the time they needed to slip away unseen.

Now, as they emerged from the darkness of the parking deck, Dick yanked the balaclava off his head. He grunted something unintelligible as he shouldered his way through the cluster of pedestrians that crowded the sidewalk.

“What?” asked Jason, pulling his own half-mask down from around his neck and jogging to catch up.

“I said, you’re a real bastard. You promised me this was would be easy!”

Jason glanced at him. He wanted to be sympathetic but he just couldn’t when Dick was glaring at him with that staticky mop of hair. He couldn’t keep the laughter out of his voice when he replied, “You’re the one who said we shouldn’t leave a paper trail! This is about as easy as stealing from Penguin’s bagman gets.”

In truth, he thought they were complaining just for the sake of complaining. After six months they both knew that pulling off this heist was less a matter of choice and more a matter of necessity. Failure meant returning to the storage locker Dick had procured outside of Port Adams and staring down their measly little bat-trust-fund: six safehouses, fifteen rolls of Kevlar fabric, a small arsenal, twenty-seven contacts typed into a Word document, and $5,025 split five ways. But what use would kevlar suits be if their siblings couldn’t afford to keep a roof over their heads? No, without the cash it was worth fuck-all.

Dick looked like he wanted to argue the point further but at that moment a convoy of police vehicles shot past them, sirens wailing and horns blaring loud enough to deafen a person. No doubt by now Penguin’s men had informed their boss about the botched exchange and pinned the blame on their nearest rivals, the Ghost Dragons. If that was the case, then Chinatown was a powder keg ready to explode into a minor gang war at any moment.

A flash of light reflected off the windows of a nearby apartment building. Jason stepped in between two parked cars to get a better look and found himself staring up at the cloud-heavy night sky illuminated in the glow of the bat signal.

He gripped the heavy duffel bag full of stolen cash closer to his chest like he expected Gotham’s dark knight to swoop down at any moment and tear it from his shoulder.

“Hey,” Dick tugged at his arm. “time to go.”

Batman was on the way and like the best of Gotham’s criminals, Jason and Dick made themselves scarce.

It took nearly forty minutes and three subway lines to make their way back to the self-storage facility. By then a pale glow had crept up from the horizon and spread across the water. Around them, the street lights began to shut off one after another. In the distance, Jason could just make out a tugboat as it pushed a barge out towards the open ocean.

By the time Dick pulled the storage locker door down behind them, they were tired-eyed and footsore.

Jason threw the duffel bag onto a table and propped himself against it as he fished one-handed under his t-shirt to undo the straps of his protective vest. He sighed in relief as the weight lifted off his shoulders. “How the hell did you stand wearing these things when you were on the force? Even with the undershirt, the chaffing is god-awful.”

“You get used to it,” Dick replied, making quick work of removing his own gear.

Jason doubted it but he was too tired to argue his point further. Instead, he found the six-pack that he’d stashed under the table earlier that day and snapped off a can.

“Heads up,” he called, as he pitched a can underhand to Dick who caught it against his chest.

Dick held it up for inspection. “Warm beer. What I’ve always wanted.”

“Oh shut up and celebrate with me, you asshole.”

He extended his arm across the table. Dick knocked beer cans with him and completely failed at hiding the shy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, though god bless him he tried. “Cheers.”

Jason watched him crack open the top and chuckled as he hurriedly slurped at the foam that erupted over the rim. He knew that this morally gray lifestyle didn’t come easy to Dick but he couldn’t deny that he was happy he had stuck around with him for this long. He didn’t dare to say it out loud, but they actually made good partners.

He took a long drink from his own beer can before putting it aside. “Ok, come on. The faster we count this cash the sooner we can go to bed.”

Jason upturned the duffel bags, sending stacks of cash sliding out onto the metal tabletop while Dick pulled the banknote counter from the corner and lugged the machine up next to the pile. Together they started slipping the currency bands loose and feeding the stacks of cash into the machine, watching eagerly as the sum continued to tick upwards.

“Soo…” Jason drummed his thumbs on the table as the numbers continued to flash on the small screen, “How are things going with you and Babs?”

“What?” Dick’s eyebrows drew together. “Why?”

Jason shrugged. “I don’t know, I’m a little curious about what she thinks you do when you’re out late all the time… also, I’m bored.”

“You’re weird, is what you are.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “Seriously? We’ve only spent the past six months together moonlighting as vigilante survivalists and I can’t ask one time how your love life is going.”

“No, no. Sorry, you’re right.” Dick held up a hand. “I told her I’ve been helping you out with an undercover case for a couple of months now. Said I owed you a favor.”

Jason grinned at him. “Well, that’s not a lie. Quite a few actually, but who’s counting.”

Dick punched him in the shoulder. “Actually, I should call her. Reassure her you didn’t get me killed before she calls in a search party.”

Jason chuckled and went back to the task of feeding bills into the machine as Dick rummaged through the backpack and fished out his phone.

“Hey, uhh...”

Jason glanced up and took in Dick’s furrowed expression as he stared down at his phone. He put down the stack of cash he was holding. “What’s the matter?”

“Something happened while we were out. I — shit I don’t know how to explain it but I’ve got like 15 missed messages from Barbara and Alfred. Did you bring your phone with you?”

Jason grabbed his backpack where his own phone was stashed and opened it to find a similar mass of missed calls and incoherently excited messages cluttering the screen. Some of the numbers he recognized, Steph, Barbara, and Alfred were all saved in his phone, but a few were from unknown senders. If he had to venture some guesses he’d say Cass, Duke… maybe Harper? Fuck, he never realized this many bat brats had his number. “I don’t get it… something about Tim? What about hell?”

“I’m calling Babs.”

Jason was aware of how uncomfortably loud their breathing sounded in the small storage locker as they stood around the table waiting for Dick’s call to connect.

“Dick?” Barbara’s voice asked loudly through the speaker. “Thank God! Where have you been? I’ve been calling and calling you.”

“Sorry, undercover mission, remember? What’s the big emergency? I didn’t get anything from Bruce.”

“You need to get back to the manor. Bruce found Tim!”

That didn’t make any sense. “What? You mean Bruce found Tim’s remains?”

Jason smacked his arm. “His remains? Are you fucking serious? What remains could Bruce possibly find after a death like that?”

“I don’t know, bone fragments—”

Dick’s argument sounded flimsy the moment it left his mouth and they both knew it. Jason just really hated to be the one who had to say it.

“If the heat from that explosion didn’t finish him off entirely then the pounding impact of like a hundred thousand missiles definitely did in whatever remains might have been left.”

“Guys—” called Babs.

“Oh, so you’re a forensic scientist now? You don’t know that—“

“Yes, I do!” He slammed a hand down on the table, his anger flaring. He really couldn’t do this backslide back into denial with Dick again. “There’s a reason we buried an empty box. Tim is literally dust in the wind.”

“Jesus Christ!” Barbara’s voice erupted loudly through the speakerphone. “Kill it with the broody back and forth already and actually listen to me, would you? I’m not talking about bone fragments or anything like that. I’m saying Bruce found Tim. Tim! He’s alive.”

Jason met Dick’s eyes over the phone, confusion written as starkly across Dick’s face as it must have been on his own. “What? I— What?”

“I really don’t understand it all myself. But Tim said he’s been held captive by Mr. Oz in another dimension for this whole time. Can you believe it? All this time we thought he was dead and...”

Jason didn’t catch that last bit. He was too busy bent over the table as all the blood rushed to his head.

He was gonna hurl. “That doesn’t make any fucking sense.”

They’d all given up on the hope of Tim miraculously surviving a long time ago and this sudden news felt like he was experiencing emotional whiplash. This had to be some kind of sick joke or a trick... a doppelganger sent by the newest enemy on the rise against Batman.

Dick’s thoughts were apparently spiraling in the same direction as his own for he ran a hand roughly across his mouth and asked, “You saw him yourself? You’re sure it’s him, our Tim?”

But it wasn’t a big cosmic joke. As much as Jason couldn’t believe it, it wasn’t and that was made clear with every new piece of information Babs gave them.

“Yes, he was standing right in front of me only an hour ago — crying and hugging everyone.”

Dick turned to look at Jason, but he was already rounding the table and yanking Dick into a bruising hug.

“He’s alive,” Dick cried into the shoulder of his t-shirt. His voice overflowed with the most contagiously hysterical mixture of joy. Jason laughed through his own tears. “You bet your ass he is!”

He couldn’t explain what had come over him. He and Dick had never really been close — and they definitely weren’t huggers — but the last few months had been so full of this gnawing air of anxiety — their family continuing to fracture, the resources running dry — that the full realization was starting to hit them that this plan might have been formed too late to do any real good. They could feel the clock running out and they were both expecting the other shoe to drop any day now but then out of the blue… this.

Dick pushed away from him suddenly and wiped at his eyes.

“Uh…” he tried to clear his throat. “We, uh, we should get back to the cave and go see him for ourselves. Babs, he still there, right?”

“Yeah, Bruce is debriefing him.”

And just like that, Jason’s joy seized painfully in his chest. It hurt the way a seatbelt does in a car crash, knocking the air out of your lungs and bringing you up short. He watched Dick rush around him, grabbing up his belongings in a disorganized fashion.

“Dick, I can’t come with you.”

“What?” Dick asked, breathless. He turned back from the door. “Yes, you can. C’mon, get your stuff, the money can wait till tomorrow.”

Jason shook his head. Fuck, how the hell was he supposed to explain this to him without looking like the one asshole member of this family who didn’t want to visit his little brother recently brought back from the dead.

Dick paused, his hand dropping from the door handle. “What? Because of what happened between you and Bruce?”

I was a fool for ever believing in you. Even now Bruce’s words lingered at the back of his head. An invisible brand that still held its heat.

“Jason, I know what went down between you and Bruce was… heavy, to say the least, but you’re still family. You do know that, right? You’re still my family and if you want to see Tim, Bruce can do fuck-all to stop it. I’ll make sure of it.”

Jason could only huff a sad laugh at that because God did he want to believe that too, but he knew it wasn’t that simple. Tim would always be his family, but Bruce… he’d crossed a point of no return with Bruce on the night that the fortress was destroyed. The violence of his assault had done more than break a few bones— it had finally shattered that last shred of trust he’d stupidly harbored in him that when push came to shove Bruce would value the son over the soldier. I broke his rules for the last time and now he sees me as nothing more than an unredeemable criminal that escaped Batman’s justice. One of his little soldiers gone AWOL.

“Yeah, I know. It’s just… I can’t face him yet— I—” he trailed off. He’d been laying low since his return to Gotham, but even still Jason thought the only reason he’d survived this long was because Bruce was too consumed with Tim’s death to spend a spare thought on him. He wasn’t ready to walk into that cave tonight and find out what would happen now that Tim was back in the picture and Bruce’s anger focused back on him.

It felt like a horrible selfish thing to think about saving his own skin when his little brother had come back from the dead, but as his eyes lingered at the collection of items piled around the storage locker he was reminded that no one was going to do it for him. After all, that was how this plan had all started right? Someone had to be the one to craft the safety net for the next Robin to fall of Batman’s mighty pedestal.

“You should go. Tell Tim I’m glad he inherited my cockroach-like ability to not stay dead.”

“Jason…” Dick twisted the jacket he held in his hands.

“Go.” It came out sharper than he’d intended, despite his best efforts to push his emotions down. He was quick to try to smooth it over with a tight smile that he knew fooled neither of them. “I’ll stop by his apartment tomorrow once all the hype has died down. Besides, someone needs to finish up here.”

He nodded at the banknote counter.

The one thing he’d always valued about Dick, more than his caring nature, was that he knew when to stop pushing an issue.

“Alright,” Dick shifted his grip on his jacket again. His phone was chiming once more in the back pocket of his jeans. No doubt another family member asking where he was. “I’ll call you tomorrow to check in.”

“Sure.”

After the door to the storage locker fell shut, Jason let his gaze travel around the room again. So Tim was back, alive and well as far as any of them were concerned. A nagging part of Jason’s mind wondered worriedly if gaining him back would slowly undo all the plans they had made together. Would Dick continue to worry about the next crisis to befall their little family or would Tim’s return renew his neverending faith in the impossible until he eventually forgot what it was that drove him to his breaking point?

Jason picked up another stack of banknotes and slid it into the machine. As the numbers continued to rise once more he did his best to prepare himself for the idea that he would be alone in this mission once more. Another bitter pill to swallow but he couldn’t do it. It lodged itself raw and unpleasant at the back of his throat.

#song of cassandra #batman fanfiction #bruce wayne #dick grayson #Jason Todd #Damian Wayne #Tim Drake #hurt comfort #brotherly bonding #bruce wayne a+ parenting #emotional abuse #emotional whump #nightwing #red hood #robin #spoiler #Red Robin #DC comics #batman #My writing #LittleDarlingXOX

[thenakedgingerwrites]

Gullible Mike

AN: I’ve had a few prompts on my notepad for years that I haven’t fleshed out and finally got into a creative and horny mood today. Prompt below. I welcome any other authors to take it and run with it to make their own variation on the simple idea. I ended up having the POV be the controller but I think my original prompt idea was that the POV would be controlled. If you use the prompt shoot me a message so I can enjoy your mischievous minds :)

Prompt: “Photo or video gets found of a friend and he has to convince his friend it’s not him by getting naked.”

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

The hypnosis show me and some buddies went to a few weeks ago was pretty fun. A few of us had been called up on stage and while it didn’t appear to work on a few invited volunteers, it had certainly worked on Mike.

His instruction was pretty simple: to be incredibly gullible. The hypnotist lady had then gotten him into a number of funny situations by proving just how gullible he was. He had offered a bunch of money to random members of the audience since it was obviously illegal to have more than $2 in your wallet at any time. He talked like a baby to anyone who claimed they were a parent because that was the polite thing to do. And lastly, he had taken off his jeans because the hypnotist thought they were on fire!

The show wasn’t x-rated or anything, so it stopped there, but it was pretty funny to see Mike hopping around on stage in his boxer briefs and polo. The audience’s wolf whistles agreed. Before a heckler’s shout of “I think your underwear’s on fire too!” she had put him back under.

It wasn’t until a few days later that it became apparent to me that Mike was still under this ‘gullible’ command. We had been hanging out just the two of us and watching the Packers v. Steelers game and he was going on and on about how Roethlisberger was going to wipe the field with my team. I jokingly said something like “since you’re clearly in love with him, a good luck kiss might go a long way.”

He somewhat seriously asked me, “you think so?” I figured we were still just razzing each other and so I responded, “Oh for sure. If you plant a big one on the TV when he’s on screen I’m positive that’ll make sure the Steelers win.”

Mike just sat there with a curious face as we continued to watch the game. I thought it was just a weird interaction until the camera zoomed in on Roethlisberger between downs. Mike nearly sprinted to the TV and kissed the image of Ben. “Good luck Ben!” he said, somewhat seductively.

I burst out laughing thinking he was still just trying to be funny. He looked back at me and said, “we’ll see who’s laughing at the end of the game.”

I rolled my eyes and got us another round of beers, but these bizarre actions continued. All through the game anytime Ben was shown on screen, Mike would run up and kiss the TV. Luckily we were at his place so I didn’t care about the lip marks and saliva streaks on the screen but I was flabbergasted. What the fuck was wrong with him?

And then I remembered the hypnotist.

It clicked that Mike was clearly still under the command she had given him. I wasn’t sure what to do about it though. I remembered the bar she had performed at so maybe I could call them to get in contact with her and have her reverse this thing.

Then the Steelers scored and he gloated to me that my team was gonna lose because I didn’t have as much team spirit and loyalty like he did.

“You haven’t kissed Rodgers once and you call yourself a fan? You should be ashamed.”

Really, Mike? That’s how you’re gonna act?

“Well at least I’m not kissing him wrong unlike you. What you’re doing is far more disrespectful. I bet they lose the game since you’re doing it so wrong.”

Mike looked worried, “what do you mean?”

“Everyone knows you don’t fucking kiss the quarterback like it’s your grandma or something. I haven’t seen tongue once this whole game. And your silent ass kiss is probably gonna make him miss every throw from this point on.”

Mike was wide eyed. I wagered that in his warped mind now he thought HE would be responsible if they lost. He looked to the TV in terror. Serendipitously, he actually did botch the pass in the next play. Honestly it was more good defense from the Packers end and less-so a poor throw from Roethlisberger but to Mike, that was the confirmation he needed.

The camera zoomed in on Ben cursing inaudibly and Mike went to work. He was fucking making out with the screen, tongue and all, and moaning a ton. He even ran one of his hands up the screen like he was caressing the dude.

I was filled with mixed emotions. I felt bad that I was taking advantage of the situation, I felt ecstatic because this shit was hilarious and I couldn’t wait to tell the guys, and, scarily, I felt turned on watching him make out with 2D Ben Roethlisberger and moaning louder and louder.

The tent in my gym shorts told me I was feeling the third emotion more than anything else.

We were close to the end of the game and I wasn’t pleased that the Packers had lost but for the first time in my life I didn’t care. The day had made a turn and seeing Mike in this way was a treat I didn’t know I wanted.

He continued to berate me for not caring about the Packers as much as he cared about the Steelers which was an argument I let him win. I was still a bit in a state of shock.

I finished my beer and needed to get home. As I was getting ready to leave, I decided to try something. It was dumb, but at that point I was still thinking with the hard dick in my shorts.

“Alright, Mike, I need to head out.”

“Sounds good Matt. Sorry, I made your team lose. Not!”

I rolled my eyes again, “yeah, well maybe next time I’ll try my own good luck charm.”

He raised his eyes, “What’s that!?”

“Well I’m not going to give you any secrets to let your team keep winning against mine.”

“Ah, fuck you Matt. We’ll win no matter what.”

“Sure, sure. Anyway, should we do the kiss now?”

He looked at me confused and took a step back. “The what now?”

“You know, the goodbye kiss.”

He still looked at me like I was crazy. I started to get nervous but doubled down, hoping it would work.

“When two friends watch a game together, they have to kiss after it’s over to show there’s no hard feelings. Have you honestly never heard of that rule?”

He shook his head, “No I… I guess I haven’t. I’m sorry, Matt.”

“Shit, I hope you haven’t pissed off any of your other friends.”

I could see panic in his eyes as he thought through how many times he had botched this gentleman’s rule before.

“It’s probably fine, Mike,” I assured him. “You didn’t know. I’m sure no harm done.”

“Fuck. I hope so.” He looked up at me, “Well I won’t fuck up from now on, that’s for sure!”

He walked up to me and kissed me.

It was so quick and I was on cloud nine with the realization that it had worked that I just stood there for a second.

He looked at me curiously and asked, “We good?” I blinked away my shock to continue the game, “Is that how you kissed Roethlisberger? I thought we were actually friends, dude.”

“Oh, shit sorry!”

I didn’t even need to coach him on what I wanted. He leaned back in and planted his lips on mine but this time, began to invade my mouth with his tongue. As he did he rubbed my back and began to moan. This time, I kissed back.

My arms also stroked up and down the small of his back and I even risked a single rub down onto his butt. Man, was it hot. If he felt my boner pressing up against his thigh, Mike didn’t say anything.

We kissed hot and heavy like this for a good 30 seconds before he broke away.

“Sorry, Matt. I’ll be sure to give a proper kiss moving forward.”

“Yeah… Yeah.”

I was at a loss for words.

I should leave.

I should.

I didn’t.

I’m not sure why it came to mind but I was running on autopilot at this stage controlled entirely by the dick in my shorts. I wouldn’t identify as gay or really even bi, but I had been curious for a bit what it would be like to be with another guy. Mostly like a morbid curiosity or something, but now that there was a real opportunity on the table, with someone I trusted and who was pretty freaking hot, I couldn’t resist the temptation to get it out of my system.

“Oh fuck, dude.”

I looked down at my phone as I exclaimed that.

Mike looked at me, “What’s up? Everything okay?”

“I think your ex leaked dick pics of you.”

“What?!” Mike shouted and ran over to my phone to try and get a look.

I hid my phone from him quickly and covered myself by saying “wait, Mike. You don’t want to look at these in case it’s not actually your dick. That would make you gay if you did.”

He quickly backed off, “I’m not gay!”

“Right, right. Me either. But I didn’t have a choice, I had to look at them but you don’t have to.”

“Okay, yeah. How the fuck would she have done that though? I don’t remember her even taking them!”

“I’m not sure, Mike,” I said. “Maybe she took them when you weren’t paying attention.”

“Fuck, are you sure it’s me?” he asked nervously.

Gotcha.

“Well, I’m not sure. The only way I could know for sure would be to see your dick to compare.”

Mike looked confused, “Well that would be pretty gay dude. I don’t want you looking at my junk and I’m sure you don’t either.”

“Well of course not, but chances are I’m already looking at it right now. But I’m willing to do this as a friend, and that wouldn’t be gay. And if it’s not actually your dick then you don’t have to worry. If it is, we should report them and try and get them taken down.”

“Fuck. Fuck! I don’t want dick pics of me out there on the internet!”

“I know! Think about if your work found them, or your family! That would be so embarrassing!”

“Shit shit shit.” Mike was freaking out. “Okay… Okay, are you sure you don’t mind helping me out?”

“As a friend, I have to do everything in my power to confirm whether these pics are of you or not.”

“You’re such a good friend, Matt. I’m sorry you’re in this position though.”

Oh, no worries.

Mike hesitantly started to undo the button on his cargo shorts. He didn’t strip in any sort of sexy way but a second later his cargo shorts hit the ground. I was staring at a similar image as last week: Mike standing there with nothing but a shirt and underwear. This time though, his hands were reaching for the waistband.

“I’m sorry,” he said to me one more time.

I went to say ‘no problem’ but got caught off by the shucking of his boxer briefs. As he stood back up I finally got to see it. The whole package.

Mike clearly didn’t manscape much and honestly neither did I, but that didn’t hide what he was packing. His soft cock was cut like my own and pretty thick. I knew not to judge a guy based on his softie but wagered he was large. And as a double bonus the balls below, while tight to his body, looked pretty big too.

I stared.

“Well?” Mike asked me cautiously with his palms extended, miming ‘what do you think?’

“I… I’m not sure.”

“What do you mean?” he asked me.

“Well, Mike, this is awkward… but the photos here are of a hard dick. It’s difficult to know for sure if this is you or not comparing the two.”

“Fuck man! What are we gonna do?”

“I’m not sure,” I replied.

I wanted him to come up with the solution. Somehow that made me feel less like a terrible person and friend.

“I hate to ask…” he started. “But, would you be willing to look at my stuff if I went and got a boner?”

“Man, Mike… I mean. Like I said, as a friend I basically have to. It’s my duty, as everyone knows. So yeah, I’ll compare your boner to the pictures.”

He sighed in relief. “You’re the best, Matt.”

He looked around, “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to get it up though given the situation…”

Time to test this hypnosis. I planted a seed. “Well, I heard that in this situation I’m supposed to be the one to get you hard.”

“What? Where did you hear that?”

“Greg, my buddy from work, told me a year or so ago. This same thing had happened to a friend of his.”

“Fuck, really?”

“Yeah,” I said. “And I asked him if that was gay or anything.”

“That’s what I was wondering too.”

Mike was falling perfectly into my made up scenario. “Yeah, but Greg assured me that it isn’t. Literally anything I have to do to make sure you’re good isn’t gay. It’s just being a good friend. But he told me that his friend couldn’t get himself hard because boners look different when you get it up versus when someone else does.”

“Really, I’ve never noticed before.”

“Me either, but I guess that’s because I don’t really notice dicks, you know?”

He nodded his head eagerly. “Right, right.”

“So, I guess, I’ll have to get you hard. That’s like the only way I’ll be able to tell for sure.”

“Damn. I’m so sorry, Matt.”

“Honestly, don’t worry about apologizing. I’m just happy I can hopeful help to confirm you have nothing to worry about with these photos.”

“Thanks man!”

He looked around the room a bit awkwardly. “Should we uh.. Sit down or something?”

I pointed to the couch. “Yeah, why don’t you sit there.”

He did as instructed and spread his legs out. He hadn’t bothered to cover up at all this whole time and as he sat down and reclined a bit, his soft dick fell to one side of his thighs.

I timidly knelt down in front of him. He watched me. Now just inches from me was the first dick I had really ever seen up close besides my own. Gym showers don’t really count. This was entirely different.

I reached my hand out. I was no longer nervous that I would get caught or something because it was clear I could do anything with Gullible Mike at this point. I was just nervous about how much I was going to like this.

My fingers touched flesh. The soft skin of Mike’s cock was warm and spongey. I sort of just played with it in my finger tips for a few moments before palming it. As I started my slow strokes to bring Mike Jr. to life, I looked up at Mike Sr.

He was watching but was clearly embarrassed. He was blushing profusely. I probably could have spared him with some command, but I decided against it. It was fun to watch him squirm a bit.

He slowly began to inflate and as he did I took note of his balls with my other hand. They were indeed large. Larger than mine at least. Mike clearly didn’t shave them but there wasn’t much hair. Mostly up near where they met his body. I lightly massaged them, earning me the first moan from Mike.

He had leaned his head back, no longer watching the action. Perhaps he was imagining some girl doing this to him. Perhaps he was just enjoying the experience as much as I was.

My hand was now grasping onto firm meat. His cock was at full mast. Finally I had him beat somewhere. His dick was probably only about 6 inches hard, maybe a little smaller actually. However, he still had me beat in girth. I continued to stroke him for a bit when Mike finally spoke up.

“I think I’m fully hard now. Can you tell if the pics are of my dick or not?”

I pulled out my phone, letting his dick fall back onto his belly with an audible ‘smack.’ I pretended to compare the imaginary pics up against his dick.

“Hm, mind if I take some photos of the same angle so I can compare them side by side?”

“Umm…” he bit his lip.

“I’ll delete them obviously.”

“Oh yeah, sorry, that’s fine.”

I took a myriad of photos for my own personal entertainment. Some close up, some showing all of Mike including his face which was still flushed. I even took a secret video of me holding his dick upright and stroking it a bit.

“So, I’m feeling more confident that it may not be your dick.”

“Oh thank god!”

“But, there’s a few things that are still off.”

Mike was worried again, “like what?”

“Well… the photos of the dick are kind of… wet.”

“Wet?”

“Yeah,” I said. “Like, your ex had just given you a blowjob or something.”

“Fuck. Is there that much of a difference with a bit of saliva on it?”

“Surprisingly yeah. It’s hard for me to know for sure. Unless…”

“Unless you…?” He asked.

I feigned hesitation. “I think I have to blow you.”

“Matt, no, that’s too much. I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

“Mike, you don’t have to. You’re one of my best friends.”

“Seriously, Matt. I’d rather just have my dick pics leaked. I would feel so bad asking you to do that for me.”

“No, I’ve made up my mind. This is for you, Mike!”

Without letting him try and talk me out of it, I brought his dick to my mouth.

“Oh fuck! Mmmm” Mike no longer protested.

Being the first blowjob I’d ever given, I didn’t get much in at first. Maybe two inches of his thick cock. But as I continued to bob on it, I got past the halfway point.

Mike’s dick tasted great. There was a fleshy, salty taste that I’d expect from skin like when I’ve licked my fingers in the past after getting food on them or something. But there was also an extra flavor that I realized must be his pre.

In under a minute, Mike was moaning loudly. He even placed a hand on the back of my head. Not forcing me down his dick or anything, but he kindly rubbed and played with my hair as I sucked him.

I hate to admit it, but I loved it. I don’t think I could say I wasn’t bi anymore.

I continued to nearly gag on his thick tool when he interrupted me to say, “Matt, I think you should stop. If you go any further I might fucking cum.”

I stopped to look up at him and deliver my last line, “I didn’t want to mention this, but the pics also had a video of the dick cumming. I think that’s the only way I’ll know for sure.”

“Matt…”

Mike was fully flushed both from the seemingly great blowjob I had been giving but also the idea that he was asking his friend to make him cum. He was so embarrassed.

“You don’t have to ask me, Mike. I want to. You’d make me into a bad friend if you didn’t let me.”

“Well, you are a great friend.”

“So it’s settled.”

I went back to work.

“Fuck, Matt…”

It honestly didn’t take long. I hadn’t gotten to the point where I could take his whole dick in my throat; I’m not sure how gay guys do it. But I got probably 4 or 5 inches down when I felt his ball sac start to tighten up.

“Matt, I’m gonna cum.”

I wanted to taste it but I also got a little gun shy and scared. This was maybe too much for my first gay experience. I released his dick from my mouth and began to stroke him instead. Eight strokes later, his thighs flexed and he grunted.

Mike wasn’t a shooter like myself but fuck did he cum a lot. The first spurt actually shot out a couple inches onto his abs. The next four were just gushes that flowed out and down his dick onto my hand but it was a ton. Then he dribbled more and more for a minute or so as I continued to stroke his slowly deflating cock.

“Wow, Mike. That’s a lot of cum.”

“Haha, thanks. I feel terrible for putting you through this though. I’m a fucking asshole.”

“No you’re not! And, now that I’ve seen you cum, I’m positive these dick pics aren’t of you.”

“Really?!”

He shot up in excitement which caused his semi-hard dick, covered in cum, hit me the face. I fell back in shock and he quickly knelt down to make sure I was okay.

“Shit, sorry Matt! Oh fuck, I got my cum on your face.”

I could feel the warm liquid on my cheek and bit on my mouth.

“Well you know what they say,” I said with a laugh.

“What?”

“You know, ‘if you get cum on a guy’s face, you have to clean it off with your tongue.’”

“Shit, I had no idea. Matt you seem to know so much.”

“Oh I do. I’ll be sure to keep teaching you.”

We shared a laugh before he leaned in.

#hypnosis #aware #tricked

[innately-pretentious]

Dating Klaus Hargreeves ❤️✨

A/N I’m back lads, and yes this is very long and super messy! Ik I’m super behind but I literally just finished the newest season of TUA and was feeling super inspired. Here are some headcanons for our favourite mess.

You probably ran into each other during one of his late night drug binges, finding him lying on the ground in your local park whilst you were clearing you head, his eyes were moving around, observing the stars in the night sky.

As you slowly approached him you became increasingly concerned, discovering that he was not only watching the stars but also yelling at the blank space next to him. You almost didn’t approach him, writing him off as another high person riding a wild trip, however, something told you to go and check up on him.

When you got next to him, interrupting his seemingly one-sided conversation, you asked him if he was alright.

Turning to you and muttering out a slightly coherent ‘yeah’, you insisted he sit and talk to you for a while, to unload whatever has got him so stressed out. You had nowhere to be and neither did he, that was how he found himself spilling the details of his extremely unique life to a total stranger until the early hours of the morning.

Nothing could prepare you for what he was about to unload, but when he is finished telling you about his family, his father, his powers, Ben and every other intimate detail he could think of, you knew you couldn’t just leave him here. After minimal persuasion on your part you drag him back to your apartment, making him some tea, putting him in the shower and getting him into bed.

Nobody had ever treated him this well, not even his own family. Now this stranger was showing him the greatest display of hospitality, he dozed off with tears in his eyes.

You watch him from across the room, this was probably the first good sleep he has had in a while. You didn’t know what drew you to this strange boy, but you were determined to help him.

He pretty much lived with you on and off for the next few months, hanging out with you multiple times a week. He discovered (with the help of Ben) his growing feelings for you, but he never wanted to act on them.

He is extremely shy initially with showing any signs of attraction towards you. Having been put down by his family for most of his life, he truly believes he will just eventually disappoint you. Ben has been bugging him to make a move for months, it is the first time he has ever seen his usually-confident brother act bashful. You would find yourself often initiating intimate acts or even talking about dating one another, due to his fear of dragging you into his mess of a life.

His insecurities do seem to fade as your relationship progresses, however, you often have to reassure him that his best is more than enough. You will always be there to pick up the pieces as long as he is willing to help.

However, when you do finally get together and comfortable, he is not shy about his displays of affection in any way! You often find that he always has to be touching you in some way. Placing his hand of your thigh while sitting next to each other, draping his arm around your shoulder, leaning into you when watching a movie, reaching for you in the middle of the night, half asleep. You almost wonder if he does it subconsciously. Pulling you into him for a quick kiss, even if it is in public. Not that you mind, you’re just glad he finally let his walls down for you.

Although he dislikes it in the moment, you make a point not to enable him. Instead you honestly ask him about his addictions and try to understand it, nobody has ever done this before. One of the proudest moments is finding him on your doorstep in the early hours of the morning, holding a fresh packet in his hand.

‘Take them, I’m gonna do them and I really don’t want to.’

You teared up at how far he has come, spending the night tangled in each others limbs, telling him how proud you were as he snuggled further into your waist.

Being there for him when his father dies, even though it really doesn’t take much of a toll on him, you tag along to make sure. When you finally meet his other siblings, you truly understand the reasons behind his addiction, often being pushed aside or ignored by his family members. The people that are supposed to care about him most, it takes a lot for you to hold your tongue.

Klaus can be quite a homebody when he wants to be, one of his favourite activities is just hanging around the mansion with you.

He loves finding you in the kitchen, drawn in by the smell of you making something delicious. He will come up behind you, arms snaking around your waist, head tucked into the crook of your neck.

He also loves to play his music loud, so the two of you can scream the lyrics to your favourite songs, dancing around the kitchen like idiots whilst simultaneously trying to cook a meal is a skill you have definitely acquired during your relationship.

Ben is completely in awe of you being able to steer Klaus in such a positive direction, he cannot be prouder of his brother. You often get Klaus to be the middle man in your conversations, even though the two of you have never met face to face, you honestly believe he is one of your close friends.

He introduces you to the clubbing scene, taking you out dancing every other weekend! You notice that he believes getting ready to go out is just as much of the fun, you both take turns picking out each others outfits. Blaring your favourite songs as you paint his nails or he does your eyeliner, leaving your bedroom in a massive mess that you would worry about tomorrow morning.

Dancing together in a packed nightclub, giggling as he attempts to spin you round, sneaking kisses here and there until the lights come on.

When Sunday comes around, you are both allowed to spend the day lazing in bed. Now Klaus is sober, he sometimes finds himself waking up before you. Finding you tucked under his arm in the morning is a dream, brushing your hair gently out of your face as he watches the sun pour in from a crack in the curtain. Nothing could be more blissful.

Occasionally you will wake up alone in bed, these days always make you slightly uneasy. Deep down you know Klaus is probably just downstairs making coffee or running a bath for the two of you, a small part of you can’t help but be scared he has relapsed.

He pretends he doesn’t notice, but his heart aches knowing that you still worry about him, even after all this time.

You always catch him staring at you, he is not really subtle about it either, even if you are concentrating on an important task.

‘Klaus I actually have to work this time!’

‘Hey don’t blame me! I can’t help it if you’re the best thing to look at.”

When you find out about the impending apocalypse, you make a pact to stick together til the end, desperate to get as much time together as possible. During this time he becomes even more protective, never straying too far away from you, even following you into different rooms of to need to go grab something. If any precarious situation arises, he pushes you back, using himself as a barrier between you and the action.

With Five botching the whole time-travel thing, you both find yourself in the 1960s.

When he first arrived in the alley with Ben, he began frantically looking for you, becoming almost hysterical as he felt really alone for the first time in a long time. It took almost everything he had not to raid the local liquor shop to just forget about his predicament for just a moment. Ben is the voice of reason for him.

‘Fuck off Ben, can’t I just feel numb for once, I’ve lost her alright?!’

‘This is the last thing she would have wanted and you know it.’

It’s not until a year later you see each other again. You were revisiting the town where you first arrived in the 60s, picking up some new clothes and planning to get back on the road. Klaus, on his way to the diner for a quick bite to eat could spot you anywhere.

You were shocked when you heard a bang on the shop window, looking up and finding the same hazel eyes you would never forget, Klaus.

He bust through the shop doors, not caring that he knocked over a few clothing racks as he bounded towards you, jumping into your arms. He smelt the same, cigarette smoke masked with fresh cologne.

Landing on the floor together, laughing with tears streaming down your face, you just hold onto each other. (The shopkeeper is yelling, but this is more important than some scattered clothes!)

Having lunch together and catching up on everything you had been up to. He was impressed with you living on the road, finding various jobs and travelling across America. Although the thought of you going out there alone made his stomach flip, scared something bad might happen. When he tells you about ‘Destiny’s Children’ you wish you could say you were surprised, but you really expected nothing less. Of course Klaus would do something as extravagant as this.

That night is one of the best of your relationship. Making up for a whole year of lost time, he holds you closer, your entire body on top of his, head resting on his chest as he lazily rubs circles on your back.

When you are about to pass out you hear soft sobs coming from under you. Sitting up and holding his face in your hands, you reassure him that you’re here, you’re ok, you’re not going anywhere and you’re going to be alright. He grips onto you tighter and sobs into your shoulder, overwhelmed with emotions about how you finally managed to find each other again.

The clinginess does not end there, a year is a long time! Refusing to let go of you waist when you try to get up, always having his hand in yours, picking you up and spinning you round in the pool etc.

He takes full advantage of shopping with you in the 60s, with the fashion being almost as loud as he is. Watching him dance in and out of the racks of clothing, throwing various garments for you to try on. He loves to sneak into your changing room to ‘help’ you change into your next outfit…

When Ben is gone, you are the sole person he goes to for comfort. Holding onto each other and reminiscing about the good memories you all shared. After that day promising not to cry over him anymore, instead you would happily remember everything the three of you went through, looking back at his life positively.

#the umbrella academy #tua #klaus hargreeves #klaus hargreeves imagine #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus hargreeves headcanon #klaus hargreeves fanfiction #the umbrella academy imagine #the umbrella academy x reader #the umbrella academy headcanon #the umbrella academy fanfiction

[hello-nichya-here]

Why does comics!Zuko keep trying to show Azula sympathy/care when Azula hasn't really reciprocated and he himself have taken actions that indicate that he still hates Azula for abusing him, or at least partake in Ozai's abuse of him, thinks Azula's birth has made his life harder, and thinks of her a ghost of the past? In light of Iroh's "She's crazy and needs to go down" line, wouldn't it be better for everyone if Zuko cut Azula out of his life, or at least until she starts trying to act better?

Disclaimer: Comics!Zuko is an insult to the character because his “kindness” to Azula involved abandoning her in a institution that neglected and abused her, and didn’t even think about her until he needed her help. I refuse to accept that Zuko, after all the growth he went through, would accept such a place even existing in his nation, let alone send his sister there, regardless of whether he still had any love for Azula. But I’m going to pretend the comics didn’t botch him (which meant that Azula had every reason to mistrust his “kindness” considering it brought her nothing but misery) so I can clarify some important things.

“Why does he show her sympathy/care when she doesn’t reciprocate it?” Emotions aren’t rational. You don’t need someone to show you sympathy and care to feel that way about them.

“Why does he show her sympathy if it’s shown that he still resents/hate her on some level?” Feelings are complicated, messy and often contradictory, especially for someone as young and traumatized as Zuko (seriously, get that boy some therapy). He and Azula were taught to see each other as enemies, and have acted as such for a long time. Her breakdown after their Agni Kai humanized her in his eyes again and made him want to give her the same chances he was given, but that doesn’t mean all that baggage would suddenly disappear. It isn’t weird for him to care about her, but still have negative feelings towards her (Important: resenting or even hating her doesn’t mean he would be okay with her being a victim of any kind of abuse, and he sure as fuck wouldn’t be the one responsible for her suffering said abuse in the first place).

“She's crazy and needs to go down" That line is a “funny” (in 2005 logic) joke Iroh made about the character who could have killed him. It also gets a gross, dangerous conotation once the finale happens and Azula has a mental breakdown - the sadly still common idea that the disabled and mentally ill are fundamentally broken and need to be locked away or killed. It could have been seen as a moment that aged badly in a mostly great show, and most people would see it as a unfortunate case of the writers not thinking of the implications of saying something like that about a character that was then shown to be mentally ill. Unfortunately, it was said by Iroh, the character fans refuse to admit is also flawed and can be unfair to others - especially to Azula. So, they act like that bullshit is another case of “Wise words from uncle Iroh” instead of seeing it for what it is: a bad joke/Iroh pulling a Zuko and saying something horrible when he is angry. Don’t repeat that kind of ableist shit like it’s some kind of gospel truth.

“Wouldn't it be better for everyone if Zuko cut Azula out of his life?“ There are only two people being affected by Zuko still having contact with Azula: Zuko and Azula themselves. She has no political power anymore, she can’t fight the whole world by herself (and trying to do so could lead to Aang taking away her bending), and she is in a fragile mental state, meaning she is completely dependent on Zuko since he is the family member taking care of her. She isn’t a treat to anyone around her anymore, so their opinion on the matter doesn’t mean shit. Which leads us to:

“Wouldn’t it be better for Zuko if he cut her out of his life?” In my interpretation of Zuko, no. He thought that he had no choice but to his sister enemy forever, or until one of them died (possibly by the other’s hand), but the Agni Kai changed everything for him. On that moment, he saw that this rivalry Ozai forced upon them hurt her just as badly as it hurt him. He saw how Azula destroyed herself to gain Ozai’s approval, and he saw himself in her, because that would have also been his fate if he had not been banished and found people who cared for him and taught him to be better. He loved Azula when they were little, and wishes things had been different. And now he knows that things can still be salvaged between them. He made horrible mistakes too, but he managed to turn things around, so it makes sense that he would want to give Azula as many chances as she needed to become a better person - just like Iroh did to him. Giving up on his “evil” sister, would be giving up on the family they once were, and on the family that he now knows for a fact that they could still be.

“Would this radical decision from Zuko “teach her a lesson” and make her change for the better?” OF COURSE NOT! Why would it? Not only did every adult in Azula’s life fail to protect and guide her, the one defense mechanism she was taught by Ozai was to always find a way to be above everyone else, which meant she couldn’t truly connect with her friends and her brother. Azula ended up becoming such a cold and even cruel character because all she ever knew was isolation. Zuko turning his back on her would just confirm her fears that is fundamentally broken and can never change, meaning she wouldn’t even try because what would be the point? Zuko changed because he always Iroh by his side, even after his betrayal - the most he ever did was give him the cold shoulder for a few episodes, then he went right back to helping him, going as far as to tell him about Sozin and Roku. No one can change if they don’t have someone to help them see what they did wrong, why it was wrong, how to do better, and to support them, even on their bad days and relapses. Especially on their bad days and relapses. Zuko knows that better than anyone, so once he decided he wanted to help Azula, he would keep on showing her that he believed in her, even when he got frustrated, sad or angry.

“Until she starts trying to act better” I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming you mean that she should act like the best version of herself while still being a complex, flawed human being, like Zuko did, instead of becoming a hollow, empty shell (like Zuko was trying to be in his false redemption in Ba Sing Se, where he went from trying to be whatever Ozai expected of him to trying to be whatever Iroh expected of him, which wasn’t healthy at all). Should Azula try to be better? Obviously, but remember: she is a literal child-soldier who was taught that she doesn’t have to be kind or even see other’s as humans at all. “But so was Zuko!” some people will say, completely forgeting that Zuko spent three years away from Ozai, getting advice from Iroh, and he still was a complete disaster of a person until the second half of book three. Zuko spent 5/6 of the show failing to be better, yet the fandom as a whole loves him. Why is Azula expected to just magically heal when Zuko spent literal years refusing to cooperate? Why does the same fandom that sees Iroh’s attempts to save his nephew from himself as something noble, see Zuko’s attempt to do the same for his 14 year old sister as completely incomprehensible?

#asks #azula meta #zuko meta #iroh meta #atla #avatar #azula deserved better #abuse #ableism #fire siblings #fire nation royal family #neglect #redemption #actual human child azula #azula #zuko #iroh #fandom fuckery #fandom nonsense #atla fandom problems

[poppys-writing]

a continuation of this drabble, and this time with our Hero!! Caretaker will be in the next ;)

Hero woke to a start in a poorly lit, cheap motel. Scanning the room with their eyes, they found Sidekick passed out on the sofa beside them, the bed all to themself. Sidekick’s got to stop doing that they, deserve rest too, Hero reminded themself. They tried to sit up to go wake Sidekick and switch spots, but were met with immediate and flaring pain - resulting in a loud cry and an exasperated fall back on to the pillows. 

Sidekick immediately stirred, jumping from their cramped nap on the cheap sofa to Hero’s side. “Relax, relax!” Sidekick eased, watching Hero’s pained and stressed expression as it broke their heart. “Don’t try to sit up. Don’t know if you remember, but you took one hell of a fall.”

A fall? What were they falling from in the first place? Guess that means I don’t remember it. “Gimme the rundown of what happened, and quick. We gotta get home, I bet Caretaker’s worried sick about me.”  

Sidekick opened their mouth for a moment, closed it and thought of how to begin, then sat on the beside to describe the tale of horrible events. “For starters, we were ambushed. Tipped off about Villain’s scheme to blow the base of the Centennial Tower while the Chancellor hosted a party of ambassador and world leaders. Y’know, the important type. Anywho, as I said, run-of-the-mill ambush. Right? Wrong! They had some cyber techno-shit beyond the usual, I’m talking 3D projections and all, it was actually quite impressive if ya ask me-”

“Sidekick. Focus.” Hero snapped back at them. Sidekick gave a sheepish grin in return, then continued on. 

“Sorry boss, you know how I get about that stuff, but anywho. You got the civilians out, I dealt with the techno-shit ‘cause that’s my usual business, but things got screwy and we ended up backed in a corner by one of the bots. It had targeted me, but you tackled it instead, and went tumbling through the glass and through the penthouse. Don’t know how you landed exactly, but it’s a miracle you’ve been able to regenerate so far. Obviously took a beating to the head, with all that crusty dried blood, but nothing that a couple days won’t fix.” 

Hero expected much worse. They wiggled their fingers and toes to make sure all was healing right - and yep, except for the usual pain and slight tingly numbness that comes from the typical severe head trauma, all was functioning. So what’s the catch? Usually waking up in a motel instead of their cozy bed with Caretaker bedside them and the pets in-between means things went more south than usual on a botched mission. “That it, Sidekick?”

“Well, there’s one more thing...we were getting ambushed because Villain was busy raiding the base.” Sidekick quickly explained, a telltale sign that they’re growing more nervous. 

“Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing, right?” Hero asked, and Sidekick nodded. Before they could answer, Hero continued on. “Villain’s gotten in before, but it’s not like there’s jackshit he can find. You need a biochip to access confidential information, and unless that stupid fucking--” 

The look on Sidekick’s face answered Hero’s question for them. 

“You’re fucking with me. That fucking asshole! I knew we couldn't trust the biotech suit. He gave away your chip info, didn't he Sidekick?” Hero hoped the answer would be yes, because if it was anyone higher than Sidekick’s chip info...

Another sad pause, and Hero’s heart dropped with Sidekick’s words. “No...yours.”

Hero impulsively grabbed the pillow beside them and chucked it at the wall. At least pillows thrown with abnormal strength can’t break through walls. “Fuck,” Hero muttered under his breath. “Do you know what he did? What he saw?” Please say it was nothing important. Please, say the system locked him out or someone miraculously came in early for work and stopped him. Please, please, please. 

“Also no,” Sidekick unfortunately answered. “The first thing he did was lock me out of the system,” Hero’s mouth opened to fire another range of rapid-fire questions Sidekick wouldn’t be able to answer, so Sidekick just continued their thought and anticipated some of Hero’s worries. “I did everything I could without being in the system anymore. I let staff know their information could potentially be compromised and advised them to lay low. Heat sigs from perimeter cams I had wired outside the system indicated that they left shortly after arrival, which is somewhat good news for us. I called my S/O and told her to go to the safe house and she called Caretaker too, but-” 

For a shit situation, that’s about the best outcome they could hope for. “Oh,” Hero shrugged, shoulders relaxing as they snuggled back into the cheap pillow. “That’s fine! We’re fine! It’s all fine! We’ll just go to the safe-house, meet up with your S/O and Caretaker, and then go from there! Right?” Please say yes. Universe, please let this be simple. 

“You didn’t let me finish,” Sidekick spoke slowly, making deliberate eye contact with Hero, who was lit up with false optimism. “Caretaker didn’t show up.”

Hero was immediately taken aback, their neutral look quickly shifting to an astonished glare. “What do you mean? There’s no way! Me and Caretaker talked about Code Green, they know what to do. You--” 

A dull buzz from the phone next to them. Unknown number? Please be Caretaker, please be Caretaker. Hero reached for it, but Sidekick’s hand grabbed it before they could. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Hero immediately shot at Sidekick, grabbing the phone from Sidekick with ease even in a weakened state. Sidekick didn’t try to fight them, but looked on with pleading eyes. 

“Hero, you don’t know who’s on the other end. Best to play it safe and let it ring, you don't want to jeopardize-”

“I’m not jeopardizing shit other than Caretaker’s safety if I don’t pick this up.” Hero flipped Sidekick the bird, then defiantly slammed the accept call button. Holding it up to their ear, they withheld speaking until they got anything from the other end. 

A moment of silence. Hero waited, prayed to hear the sweet and familiar voice of Caretaker. Just for them to say “don’t worry, I’m alright,” so then this horrible feeling of dread and pressure can be lifted from their chest. Please, please, be Caretaker. I need this to be Caretaker. 

“Hello, handsome,” The sing-song voice of Villain greeted from the other end. Hero's eyes immediately shot to Sidekick’s, which were just as wide as his. “Heard you had a bit too much fun at a party last night.”

Taking a level breath, Hero tried to calm themself. Who knows what advantage Villain has on them right now? Best not to tempt any unwise actions at the moment. “What do you want, Villain? You know you’re a real pain in the ass, right? Now I’ve got to come over there, kick your ass, and get a new security system.” 

A long, long chuckle from the other end made Hero’s spine chill. Even calling is just...so unlike Villain. And the tone in their voice? It’s more proud and boastful than usual, as if wanting Hero to try and tease a little surprise out of them. “I don’t want anything, Hero, because I’ve already got all that I want right here.” 

“Enlighten me.” Hero quipped back at them, rolling their eyes to Sidekick with their signature smirk. It can’t be that bad, since the biochip only unlocks access to baseline confidential information: more than likely, not much that Villain couldn’t guess themself, aside from...

The ID code linked to the biochip. It’s not synced to their Hero identity, but to their real identity. All he’d have to do is log into the system once, and....oh fuck. 

Another sick, long laugh on the other end of the phone. “I was trying to toy with you, but I just can’t help myself Hero! Darling, why don’t you come over here and say hello?”

Hero could feel the pit in his stomach fill with every negative emotion, but mostly guilt. Guilt and rage. No. Please, no, not this. Not--

The sound of a struggle on the other side of the phone, Hero listening intently and hoping for the first time ever that he doesn’t hear Caretaker’s voice, until--

“Hero!” Caretaker cried out in-between shaky, raspy, exhausted breaths. “I’m not worth it, not worth the risk - please, please, just promise me you’ll-” 

Even though Hero didn’t want to hear Caretaker’s voice, they were holding on to every last word, every last syllable and sound like it would be the last time they heard them. They could feel the pain that they heard in Caretaker’s voice, holding back a cry of their own as they heard Villain toss Caretaker away. More struggling, then the return of Villain. 

Hero didn’t hold back. “You sick fuck!” Hero screamed into the phone. “They aren’t involved in this! Let’s settle this, you and me! If you want to save your life, you’d be smart to tell me where the fuck I can get them now, or else--”

“Not so fast!” Villain cut them off, “for the first time since we started this little feud that’s now turned into a full-blown war, the cards played out in my favor!” they joyously exclaimed. “And you, my dear Hero? Why, you’re just going to have to watch this game play out, because any harm that befalls me will be dealt back to Caretaker. Oh, how much fun me and your sweetheart are going to have! Speaking of which, I must get going - Caretaker and I have so much catching up to do!” 

The dull, dead line didn’t last long, because Hero promptly threw it into the wall. Glass shattered, but so did Hero’s composure. 

Whatever it takes, Hero told themself, I’ll get Caretaker back. Whatever it takes.

[[ tagging people who expressed interest in a continuation! @silverwhisperer1 @whatwasmyprevioususername

if you don’t want me to tag you in the next part, please let me know! ]]

#hero whump #villain whumper #hero/villain #caretaker whump #hostage #captivity whump #creepy whumper #I love this a lot actually #I'll keep it going if any of y'all want me to #villain whump #hero #villain

[akashifae]

The little scene and dialogue lines from this one picture I saw by the incredible Hntrgurl13 on twitter had me wanting to write a short little story idea involving Stolas being wounded to an extreme degree. Probably more melodramatic than angst, but I like the idea of getting more dark so we'll see if that happens!

This is probably just going to put more detail into that scene, but the lead up to it would be the I.M.P. gang being tasked with protecting Stolas after a close encounter with an executioner squad. The gang go from hotel to hideout to try and evade them, but eventually they're left with no choice but to fight them head on. The trio do a good job holding off the executioners after they catch the group making their escape through the streets. Stolas was hard at work making a portal open not too far off. They had to show off why they were so good at their job after all.

Stolas got to quick work making the portal, it wasn't too much trouble at all finding a decent spot to hide away in. The living world seemed like a decent fit for them. Though as he did, he saw the imps being rather dangerously outnumbered.

He knew not to draw the attention to him, but he couldn't stop himself from worrying about his Blitzy. The bravest imp he knew, the light of his life, fighting tooth and nail to keep him safe. His affections getting the better of his judgment, he moves forward to assist.

He spawns forth a powerful roaring fire from his claws, dispatching a few executioners with a few well placed tosses.

"Your majesty?! You're not supposed to be this close to the fight! Is the portal ready?" Moxxie yelled out over the gunfire.

"Yes! Quickly, let's get out of here!" He said, tossing one last ball of fire at an executioner near his Blitzy.

They made their way down the alley, getting ready to leave when Blitzo opened his mouth.

"Hey! You were supposed to stay back here and make the portal, you could've gotten your ass shot or stabbed or worse out there! Did you fucking think before you just threw yourself into harms way like that?!" He shouted at the tall bird.

The other two were almost shocked to hear such language being thrown to the prince, but he apologized and even leaned down to bow his head.

"Yes... I just didn't want anyone to hurt y--" he cut off his sentence as he caught the sight of one last executioner creeping up behind Blitzo.

He didn't think this time.

His body reacted on its own, pushing Blitzo behind him within a moment as his arm reached out to summon more flames. The executioner was already thrusting his spear; however, and it pierces through the bird's tender torso within that moment.

The sharp point went through him so effortlessly, and he pulls it out expecting Stolas to fall over. He's instead greeted to the Owl's claw grabbing his skull and casting flames upon it, burning him to cinders within seconds.

The tall prince tried to keep his body standing, but that wound was much more serious than he thought. He could feel himself struggling to breathe a bit. He'd never been wounded in such a manner before...

He fell onto his rear, clothes growing dark as Blitzo got up to see what had just transpired. The owl propped himself up onto a wall of the alley to steady himself. One hand holding against his torso, and the other resting on the ground.

They were all speechless, except for Blitzo... he could only see the injured owl, his heart sinking as he watched him cough up a bit of blood. The wound looked like it could've pierced a lung. On a body so slender, a stab wound from something like that could have punctured several things. The imps mind was racing faster than he could possibly think, knowing they needed to get him help, fast.

"Stolas..."

The large owl looked to them at near eye level. He wanted to say something to him... anything, but his body was aching...

He was starting to feel tired.

His vision was getting more blurry by the second, but he could still make out which one was him. His claw left the ground beneath them to caress the cheek of that precious imp in the middle. As if he'd already come to accept his fate, he manages to mutter something out.

"I'm sorry... Blitzy. I should have listened..." Was all he said before his eyes started to close.

A nap sounded so nice right now. He'd be up in just a few minutes, he was still breathing after all...

Blitzo; on the other hand, nearly broke down at the sight of Stolas bleeding out in front of him, hearing strained breathing coming through the owl's lungs. Overcome with emotion, the small imp grips at the owl's body and starts yelling at him. Unrelenting in his vulgar assault of words, the only way he can think of to express the feelings that are twisting his heart up. He wants Stolas to hold on for dear life, even if it's to the sound of him cursing him out until hell freezes over.

"Oh you fucking think so?! You think you should've fucking listened to me?! The one who's fucking job is to protect you!" He screamed out in pain. "I'm not the one who's supposed to be here telling you to hold on, Stolas...!" He said through a tightening throat.

"This isn't some stupid fucking game... you can't do things like that!" He said, his emotions threatening to explode within him.

"You need to hold on Stolas... you need to... please..."

He didn't think of the potential consequences of saying all those vulgar lines to Stolas. His words flying out of his mouth from the suffocating pain his heart was feeling.

When the breathing began to grow lighter than the feathers on Stolas' body, those big yellow and red shoot open with heart-sinking horror. His hands grip at his shirt, shaking him and pleading to him now. Legs growing weak as his will to stand begins to falter. He can feel those emotions growing more and more aggressive by the second. He can feel his vision growing blurry.

"Oh no you fucking don't. You are not doing this to me... M-Moxxie!" He stuttered briefly. Shit. This is bad.

"Sir?" He said, the first thing he said to break his silence.

"Do you have the extreme emergency first aid kit?" He asked him

"Yes, sir." He replied, pulling it out of his bag. It had all kinds of emergency medical stuff within it.

"Thanks, Mox. Go to Hideout B for a bit until things cool down. I'll tend to this dumbass for now." He said before hopping through the portal.

"But sir, shouldn't we come with--" before he could even finish the sentence the energy powering the portal flickered and fizzled out, leaving them separated. Thankfully, they still had communication via phone, but it was going to make things very tense for a few days.

They landed in what looked like one of the many rooms in Stolas' home. It wasn't their personal bedroom, it looked more like a guest room from cursory glance. Though what mattered more was that Stolas didn't die.

Blitzo still had a few choice words for him. Though now that they were alone, he could finally let his guard down a bit. He was starting to get overwhelmed by his emotions, his vision getting blurry...

First time in a long time that it wasn't from a fist-fight or a botched assassination job...

The owl could be heard panting still, and Blitzo got to work. He'd fixed himself up from bullet wounds before, so it wasn't too much of a surprise that he was skilled enough to fix a bird who got stabbed.

Disinfecting, cleaning, and a lot of careful stitching, the imp was desperately racing to fix up his prince.

Wait... his prince?

Not the time to think about that Blitz! You have to keep on fixing him so he could open those damn eyes and you can give him a mouthful already!

The owl would wince and occasionally groan in pain as he felt the pinch of his insides being carefully reconnected. His body feeling far too heavy to move, he feels himself pass out during the treatment. Blitzo nearly has a heart attack at that moment, but being able to hear the somewhat steady breathing had him back on track.

Several hours passed, but it was done. More of the bird's blood on his hands than he ever wanted to see ever again. Looking at the exhausted prince laying in bed, he sniffled and leaned himself forward a tad.

"You fucking dumbass. Throwing me out of harms way only to fucking get yourself nearly killed." He said with a snide, almost condescending voice.

"It pisses me off how much you care." He said, his eyes welling up. "How... easily you can show it..." he followed up in a whisper. He felt so embarrassed that the only time he could express his feelings to him was when he was when he was near death in his own bed.

Grabbing the gauss bandages, he wraps up Stolas' chest; mindful of the chest plumage. "I don't know why you fucking care about me so much... how, you care about me so much..." he said as he continues wrapping him up. "But..." he finishes up with a rip of the gauss.

"...Thanks, Stolas." He said as he wiped some of the tears off his face. "I dunno if you can hear me but... I... I care about you too." He said, swallowing his pride mid-sentence. "I r-really care about you. Sorry it... took you nearly dying to say it." He muttered out before giving the resting owl a kiss on his beak.

The owl seemed stable enough, resting for the time being as Blitzo takes a large hand into his own. His fingers lace between Stolas' own, his eyes staring at them longingly.

Though when Stolas' hand closes a bit to hold Blitzo's own, he nearly jumped out of his skin.

At least he was feeling better, he figured... but, it couldn't hurt to rest like this after a long day like that.

Lying on his back, he tightened his grip around Stolas' claw, and before he knew it...

He was out like a light.

#stolas #blitzo #stolitz #story #helluva stolas #helluva blitzo #this ship #is actually perfect #i love these two babies so much #I'm sorry if none of this makes sense #i just got inspired and ran with it #dont hate me please aaaaa

[aurora-the-kunoichi]

The Forgotten - Chapter Five Punishment

Here is the fifth Installment

Full story here

Warning: Blood, gore, mild torture, mild smut

 Aurora utilized those precious few moments she still had with Leo, running her hands over his face, arms and torso drinking in as much of him as possible, before they came for him. He looked so peaceful lying there, eyes closed, taking even unhurried breaths. Like so many times before when she’d wake before them memorizing every scar and scrute as they dreamed peacefully, another life time, so far away.

 Leaning forward she took her final taste of his lips as the door opened to her room.

Aurora ordered Leonardo’s unconscious body returned to the location they had apprehended him. He couldn’t stay in the base, no matter how bad she wanted to keep him close. Though if and when Donnie returned, the genius would want access to his brothers. But she needed him out of there before he escaped and gave away their location to Bishop’s troops. Her first priority was to the people here, if their safe haven was compromised everything would be lost.

 As they hoisted Leonardo onto the cart, Casey stepped in front of Aurora insisting the kunoichi didn’t accompany them. Her first reaction was to object but after a few moments she reluctantly agreed. At this moment she was too emotional, she could change her mind and go get him. So, she added not to be informed of the drop site.

 She watched them prep him for transport; sound canceling headphones were put over his ears set to an annoying brand of music and his eyes covered with dark fabric. Before the hood was pulled over his green crown Aurora bent down cupping his cheeks to gather his warmth in her palms.

 “You have an hour to get him there and get clear before the pressure points wear off. It usually takes a few hours on a human, but the mutagen helps him recover faster, his muscles don’t hold the pressure as long. Don’t stop; don’t engage any hostiles, especially his brothers if you encounter them. Get in and get out.”

 They left with the leader a few minutes later and with a huff Aurora sat down on the edge of her bed. Her hands ran back into the messy sheets finding them still a little damp from their tryst. She suddenly had an insatiable need to smell him again. Crawling onto the mattress her face ran over the sheets taking in his scent that still lingered there. She had touched them all except for Michelangelo today. But she knew when Leo returned home and the youngest found he was the last to leave his scent on her Mikey would rectify that rather quickly.

 Wrapping the blankets still thick with Leonardo’s scent around her, Aurora closed her eyes and found slumber quick to take its hold. Leo’s face flush with pleasure was the last thing she thought of before she fell asleep.

 She slept for several uninterrupted hours cocooned in their memories and smell. It wasn’t until a soft tapping at her door that finally woke her from sleep. Her voice groggy and sleep laden allowed entrance into her room.

 The heavy door opened slowly and April came into focus as her eyes adjusted to the hallway light from the doorway. In her hand was a plate and the wondrous smell of bacon filled the large space.

 “Rise and shine sugar tits. Casey scored some bacon on his way home last night; I thought you’d enjoy some.”

 “That big beautiful idiot, it’s about time he made himself useful.” Sitting up in her bed Aurora’s hands rose above her head to stretch out the sore muscles in her body. “God I think it’s been a year since I’ve had some.” Accepting the plate Aurora bit down on a still hot slab of pork. The salty goodness burst with flavor coating her tongue delightfully and Aurora’s eyes rolled into the back of her head. “Fuck, that’s delicious and you made it crispy just the way I like it. You do care….”

 “Most days……”

 “Bitch…” Aurora laughed slipping the rest of the piece in her mouth. “How long have I been out?”

 “Ten hours, but you needed it. If it wasn’t for this pipin hot pig and a lead to follow I’d order you to stay in bed a few more. But alas duty calls, I need that fine ass up, showered and in the war room in 30 minutes.” April leaned down to Aurora and pressed a quick kiss to her forehead.

 “Ok mother.”

 “Don’t sass me little lady. You’re lucky I don’t ground you after last night’s debacle.”

 “You would have done the same.”

 “Touché, I’m just glad no one was killed. He could have easily cleaned house last night. I think if you weren’t here last night it would have been a completely different outcome.”

 “I agree, sadly.”

 April stopped at the door and turned back around to face her friend; her face held the seriousness of the situation but as their eyes met April’s lips curled just a little with mischief. “For…..reasons…..how was it?”

 “Heartbreakingly good.”

 “I’m glad but I’m sorry at the same time.”

 “Thanks.”

 The hot spray of the shower was usually a relief to Aurora, the warmth seeping into her tired muscles and washing away her daily tasks. But the thought of washing away the evidence of Leonardo’s visit was excruciating. What had transpired was dangerous, he had nearly killed her the last time they met, but she could see it in his eyes. He was a desperate man and she gambled with her life, it was stupid but she needed it as much as Leo did….maybe more. That piece he shared was just a taste of what she had been missing all these years. People would think it selfish and maybe it was but what miserable existence they had. All that they had given up, no promise of life with each mission, a little happiness was due every once in a while, no matter how short lived it was. For all she knew she would never see them again.

 Finished with her shower Aurora pulled on fresh clothes and headed out to the war room anxious to hear about the new lead that was found.

  The warmth of her was gone, but as he came to the scent remained strong and evident on his flesh. Taking a deep breath Leo tried to sooth the swimming headache throbbing in his skull. She really did know how to adjust the pressure points on their bodies taking in account of the shells on their backs. Curiouser and curiouser, each time they had an encounter with that woman……Aurora, things seemed to become more confusing yet more clear. If that was possible, someone was lying that he was certain but was his master or the woman who was driving him and his brothers insane? But right now he had bigger problems.

 He had woken up where he had laid his trap. A carefully planned scheme he had worked on for months down the drain because of that woman. That infuriatingly beautiful woman, she really did have some sort of hold on him. Maybe there was truth her to lies, she said something was in him? What did she mean by that?

 Stumbling to his feet Leo began his trek back to main headquarters and Leonardo was not looking forward to reporting his failure to Bishop. The man did not take failure well; his tolerance was paper thin but Leonardo rarely came back with bad news so there was hope…..perhaps. The rebel base was supposed to be overrun with his brothers and Bishop’s men by now. If he hadn’t been weak and sought out the blonde, his mission would have been successful. Her name even if not spoken out loud had a profound effect on the leader. Leo’s heart tightened and his insides spun with an unknown feeling. A feeling that took control of him as he searched for the vexing woman’s room in their base and claimed her in her ridiculously large bed. It could easy fit him and his brothers along with her……like it was meant for them all.

 A sudden vision of Raphael, Mike, and him with another turtle wrapped around Aurora sent his head spinning and his chest constricting in unimaginable pain. It intensified as he focused on the fourth mutant turtle he had never seen before but somehow looked familiar. Purple was wrapped around his skull and he was taller than them all, for some reason he knew he was a genius. Brother? Another heart stopping shot of pain surged through his chest and Leo toppled onto his knees clutching at his harness as he struggled to breath.

 What was that, a memory? Why did it hurt so much? Holding his labored breathing Leo closed his eyes and cleared his mind until the pain passed allowing him to stand and resume his return to base.

 The moment he entered into their home base both Raphael and Michelangelo were on him.

 “Where the fuck have you been? You were supposed to call us hours ago!”

 Leonardo ignored his hothead brothers’ questions pushing past him to make his way towards their shared quarters. He was not in the mood, but Leo should have known Raphael was not one to be ignored. His brother’s large mitt encircled his arm and yanked him to a halt.

 “Fuck you if you think you’re gonna pull the silent leader bullshit today. Despite your failure to inform us of the rebels base Mike and I were fuckin worried.” Raphael whipped his older brother around to look into his eyes. He wanted a fuckin explanation. “You were supposed to get ‘caught’ and taken to their base to escape then tell us where ya were so we could overtake them………” Raphael’s nostrils flared, and his line of questions halted abruptly. The grip on his brother’s arm intensified as his eyes dilated with realization.

 Leo winced at the increasing pressure and tensed further feeling his youngest brother get closer scenting the air as well.

 “Ya bro, what kept you?”

 Raphael leaned in close almost pressing his beak to his brother’s plastron and took in a long pull of air. Then something unexpected happened, his hothead brother pulled away with is mouth open wide in a toothy grin and started to cackle. It was a deep sound that started in the depths of his chest.  “You botched the mission for a piece of blondie?!”  The barreling laughter began to rise. “This is fuckin rich! Mr. Self-control couldn’t keep it in his pants to finish the mission.”

 Mikey hit Raph in the shoulder trying to pull him away from Leo, “Shut up Raph. If Bishop hears that he’ll….”

 Refusing to give Raph the satisfaction of acknowledging his weakness for the woman Leo ripping his arm free and pushed past him but stopped in his tracks nearly running into his master.

 Bishop though smaller than the three brothers stood with such confidence the mutants stepped back falling into line on instinct. The dark shades that sat upon his nose was adjusted and his suit jacket opened with a flick of his thumb and forefinger. “Is this true Leonardo? Did you fail in your mission over the blonde commander?”

 The usually stoic leader’s head fell unable to look Bishop in the eye. “Master, I went to her chambers to subdue her. She is a formidable fighter, but I have a weakness for the woman that I cannot comprehend. I am drawn to her and she welcomes it. I lost myself in her and she took full advantage rendering me unconscious. I will not fail you again Master.”  

 A heavy sigh came from the man as he took his sunglasses from this nose ridge to clean them. “I am disappointed in you Leonardo. You, out of your brothers are the most disciplined and to let a mere woman take you from your mission makes me question your loyalty to me. Was I wrong to give you the highest command in my army?”

 “No Bishop, you were not. I….”

 Bishop cut him off moving past the leader to his younger brothers. “You see Leonardo, when you are the leader; you hold the lives of your men in your hands. The responsibility of the mission, of your success rests on those large shoulders of yours.” Bishop moved around Michelangelo to Raphael. “You see, I chose you. Because I knew you could handle the pressure, but I am aware you are still human….so to speak. You are not without your flaws, but you see, there has to be consequences to your actions.”

 Leonardo did not like the way Bishop was circling his brothers eyeing them like they were prey, “Yes, I am fully prepared to receive my punishment Master.”

 “And receive you shall.” Bishop’s hand reached for the top of Raphael’s shoulder and pulled. “On your knees Raphael. You and your brother are going to help me show your leader what happens when he disappoints me.”

 Honeyed eyes met blue, weary of what was happening, but Raphael swallowed the rising lump in his throat obeying his superior sinking slowly to his knees. “Master Bishop, Leo isn’t the only one distracted by her. Mike and I…..” The man’s hand squeezed painfully into the muscle of his shoulder making the brute wince.

 “Quiet Raphael, know your place.” His hands moved to his glasses and pulled them free of his face and folded them carefully placing them into his jacket pocket. “Your team is small, so the effects of your decisions affect them more, but you ultimately suffer the most.” Bishop leaned down wrapping his long fingers around the hilt of Raphael’s long blade strapped to his side. Slowly he removed the blade from its sheath and rested the business end against the scales of his red banded brother’s arm.

 Leo’s brother instincts kicked in and moved forward to protect his brother. He wanted to reach for his katanas, Bishop was their Master, their commander, their savoir but right now he was threatening the only two people he loved on this miserable planet.

 “Unless you wish for their punishment to be far worse, I suggest you stay where you are Leonardo. And if your brothers do not wish for this to happen to you, I hope they do the same. You need to be taught a lesson Leo; no deed goes unpunished.”

 Movement halted but his senses were still on high alert. Leo’s hands clenched into tight fists and his eyes locked with Raph as his green scales gave way to the sharp metal of his own blade. The tip sunk into the dense tissue and began its decent down the deltoid drawing a steady river of crimson in its wake. “Please, not my brothers, I’ll take this, it’s for me and my failings not theirs. They weren’t even there!” Leo voice had risen in pitch watching Raphael groan in agony but stayed where he was told.

 “That would be too easy, you are self-sacrificing Leonardo so taking this pain, this punishment would not heed the lesson. But if you witnessed your loved ones suffer this, it would be engrained in your memory a constant reminder not to fail me again.”

 “I’m fine fearless, I can take it.” Raphael tried his best not to make a sound while the blade began to carve through the thick muscle of his bicep. His nostrils flared trying to regulate his breathing. Something he was taught..by….not Bishop…..but by who? His mind began to scream at him adding to the excruciating pain radiating through his arm. Raph closed his eyes taking in heavy uneven breaths and a hoard of rats swarmed his vision.

 Bishop paid no attention to Raphael keeping his sight solely on the panicking leader. “You did this, you did this to him. You three are beasts, unworthy of love. You actually think that woman truly cares for you….FOR ANY OF YOU! She is a kunoichi, a deceitful vile whore trying to wear you down, gain your trust so she can find me to kill me.” The blade pulled from Raphael’s flesh with a sickening sound and Bishop thrust the tip into the exposed side of Raphael’s body between his plastron and shell. Almost instantly he began to drag the blade down opening up a large weeping gash in Raphael’s’ side.

 This time Raphael gasped in pain letting out a breathless growl, “F..uh….uck.”

 “You are nothing without me, I am all you have. If it wasn’t for me you would have been put down in the labs I found you in! I spared your lives, ME! I gave you purpose!  The rebels only want information from you nothing more. You are freaks; monsters and they will kill you the first chance they get.”

 Gritting his teeth watching his brother in pain Leo kept the fact the rebels had done no such thing. The only thing they threatened was to take him to R&D and remove what was ‘inside of him’. None of them had looked scared or even disgusted by his appearance.

 Blood was now pooling at the brute’s feet slipping down his green flesh like a waterfall.

 “That’s enough!” Leo couldn’t take it anymore. The look on Raph’s face was cutting into his soul squeezing his heart to the point of him unable to pull in a full breath.  

Bishop’s eyes darkened at the challenge put after a few never ending moments he pulled the knife free turning to Michelangelo to continue his ‘lesson’.

 Not to be outdone by Raph, Mikey held his ground ready to take his part in all of this. Planting his feet the youngest stood tall but soon found the solid walls of his brothers in front of him an impenetrable force keeping Bishop and his punishment far from their little brother.

 Leo growled at Bishop holding the bloody knife that was just inside his brother’s side a few moments ago. “I said that is enough. You’re point was well taken.”

 It took their master a few agonizing moments to come up with a decision whether to punish them further or concede. He took a fresh cloth from his breast pocket and wiped the crimson from the knife and held it back out to its owner for retrieval. “Very well, but next time Michelangelo will get it much worse than Raphael did…..much worse. I tire of these games the resistance plays. I want this over with. I want that base found and those three commanders caught and executed. They have caused us too much trouble. They need to be made an example.” Bishop watched Leo’s eyes darken with defiance further but remained where he was. “Do we have a problem with those orders Leonardo?”

 Raphael and Michelangelo watched their brothers hands tense at his sides and his back straighten. “No.” Leo ground out darkly. “I will personally make sure those orders are carried out.”

 “Good, I will not tolerate failure again.” And with that Bishop left leaving the three brothers alone.

 After the hallway was clear Raphael finally stumbled into Leonardo’s arms. Mikey quickly came up to the other side of his brother helping Leo brace his immense weight. “Fuck Leo, I hope it was worth it.”

 Leo adjusted his brothers’ weight and pressed his palm into the weeping gash doing his best to slow the flow. “It was…enlightening, and don’t throw stones Raphael. You know full well if you were given the chance you would have took part in her body without hesitation. Now let’s get out of the hallway and to our quarters. We need to tend to your wounds.”

 Without any word of protest all three made their way to their shared room. When they had been brought to this facility after Bishop and his men had freed them from a secret lab doing tests on animals, they were each offered up their own rooms. Something deep inside them found the thought unpleasant and asked to be housed together. They had even moved their beds together finding comfort in each other’s warmth. Like they had been sleeping close years prior.

 Carefully they set Raphael down on a chair in their living quarters and Mikey began to address his wounds. Leo brought over their med kit and pulled out the tools Mike would need and left to fetch something to flush the gash with to clean and disinfect it.

 Returning to his brother’s Leo handed Mikey the supplies and assisted with keeping Raph’s steady for treatment.  

 Raphael finally broke the silence eyeing Leo suspiciously. “You really gonna kill her?”

  The war room was empty except for Casey who was sitting on the edge of large table in the middle of the room. His booted feet swung slightly as the dark haired man cleaned out from beneath his nails still unaware of her presence.

 “April would be fuckin pissed if she saw you doing that in here.”

 Casey yelped dropping the small knife from his fingers to grab his shuttering chest. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna give me a heart attack! I need to get a bell on you!”

 Aurora giggled hearing him whisper ‘fuckin ninja’s’ under his breath as he slipped from his perch to grab his lost blade. She moved into the room and took his spot crossing one leg over the other. “Then I wouldn’t be effective now would I?”Her fingers reached down to her knee high boots and straightened the seam to lean back to watch her friend. “She said you had something for me, and by the lack of backup I can assume it’s not for everyone’s ears.”  

 Flipping his knife closed Casey shoved it back into his pocket. He turned away from Aurora, took a few steps to the white board and stopped. She watched his shoulders lift with a few deep breaths and he turned around with a very sheepish grin plastered on his face.

 “I did somethin’ stupid..”

 “This isn’t something new Case, I love ya kid but you’re as unpredictable and careless as Raph. That’s why you two were best fuckin pals. Why don’t you tell me what you did and we’ll go from there?”

 Casey moved quick until he was just in front her and his palms were on her knees squeezing with enthusiasm. His eyes were now ablaze with excitement and he licked his lips. “I followed him….well to a certain extent.”

 There was only one person he could have followed, but the moron wouldn’t have been that stupid? Right? April would have skinned him alive. “Who did you follow?” her voice was a whisper hoping she was wrong but her intuition knew better.

 “Leo, I followed him for about a half an hour, hoping I could at least get a general direction of Bishop’s base.”

 “Casey!”

 His hands came up resting on her shoulders, “Wait, wait, …hear me out. He was still groggy when he woke up, stumbling, holding his head. So I figured I’d watch him as he went. I know him; known him for half my life so I know when he’s out of sorts and when he’s not. I followed him until he wasn’t walking funny and he quit holding his left shoulder. When I noticed he was more aware of his surroundings I backed off. At least I had a direction, we needed something Aurora, I took the opportunity. We need to find that base.”

 Aurora pushed him away and jumped from the table. She began to pace, “You idiot….I….I know what you did was for the cause and I appreciate it. But Casey he’s the best, you were so fucking lucky he didn’t know you were following him. He could have captured you, tortured you.”

 “Hey, I ain’t weak, I’d never give up the base…..ever.”

 “I know Case, but the end result would still be your death.” Aurora turned back to face Casey and he looked a little hurt. “I’m sorry, I know you were doing what was needed. I just……I just don’t know what I’d do if I lost you….April…..” she could feel the tears brim and settle into the corner of her eyes. “You two are the… last….my family.”

 “I know I know, April was pissed too but I had too. This was too good of an opportunity to let it pass by. It’s been nearly 10 years of this god damn war and we’re losing and I know you know this. Each day we lose more and more people to Bishop’s hold. So any edge, anything at all was worth the risk.”

 Wiping a stray tear free Aurora let out a long sigh and gathered Casey into an embrace.

 Then a new voice broke them from their moment, “He’s an idiot but…he did good.”

 Both Aurora and Casey looked up to see April standing in the door way.

 “He spent all night trying to narrow it down. He thinks he might know where they are. But we need to make sure before we go in. Casey is good but inconspicuous he is not. We need someone to go in and confirm the location. Someone quiet, someone who can slip in and slip out without being noticed. Avoid detection, which means recon only, you hear me?”  

 Aurora slapped her hands over Casey’s cheeks and pressed them together, “Where should this ninja go for said mission?” she pressed closer giving Casey fish lips which he worked playfully.

 “Rockefeller State Park Reserve.”

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~          

The evening air had cooled enough to ease the uncomfortable thickness in the air; if it wasn’t for the task at hand it might have been a good night to watch the stars. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky leaving the stars glittering like diamonds.

 Aurora had ditched her bike a mile before she had entered the reserve and continued on foot. Keeping mostly to the trees she moved soundlessly searching the acreage for any sign that Bishop’s base was close.

 They had never thought to search state parks, thinking the madman would find it too difficult to build his compound in the middle of nowhere. But he was a stubborn man and if anyone could make it work Bishop would find away if it kept him hidden from prying eyes of his enemies.

 It took hours to search, but what a peaceful evening it was. The frogs and bugs were creating a wonderful symphony that echoed throughout the forest floor. Even a few lightening bugs were out flashing across the long grass trying to find a mate.

 As she moved through the forest it began to get thicker, the foliage getting denser and then something caught her eye. The moonlight caught the refection of something and Aurora moved back into the shadows pulling out her binoculars.

 Zooming in she saw something that didn’t belong in a park reserve, a motion sensor.

 “Now we’re onto something….” Climbing higher she disappeared into the foliage concealing her presence further and moved forward her senses now on high alert. As she got closer more sensors popped up with the addition of cameras. Soon men with guns began to come into play and that’s when Aurora knew she was on the right track.

 “Good boy Casey, good boy.”

 Then she saw it, a large compound hidden in the park surrounded by a large fence littered with armed men swarming the grounds. “Oh goodie.” She mused watching a guard cross below her unawares of the danger looming above them. “Fresh meat.”

 With no sound made Aurora dropped down on her prey finding luck was on her side catching a female guard and rendered her neutralized. She stripped the woman of her clothes and ID badge and quickly hoisted the woman into the tree to conceal her work. Pulling on her clothes assuming her identity Aurora pulled the brimmed cap down and made her way to her next task.

 The shadows concealed her perfectly as she scaled the fence with ease. She waited for the flood lights to move past before she dropped down into the inner grounds of the base. A passing truck served as a shield bringing to a side door and with her stolen ID badge she was allowed entrance.

 Keeping her head down she disappeared into the crowd following them into what looked like a mess hall. There were many tables filled to the brim with brain washed New Yorkers. All oblivious to their predicament following orders of a man they once fought against. She needed to keep moving, she needed to make sure this was the place, she needed a visual, she needed to see Bishop, or one of them. They would be in the same facility as Bishop; he would want to keep them close.  

 Moving away from the loud space Aurora made her way down another hall searching for her target, keeping an eye out for those god damn sun glasses and that well tailored suit, pompous asshole. Soldiers, doctors, and what looked like civilian men and woman littered the halls. Waves and waves of people came, this was a busy place, very important no doubt.

She needed to be quick though, the longer she was there the more chances there was to be seen, exposed, and even captured.  Then green, large striking green and orange came from the distance. The youngest came striding down the hall, an unpleasant frown plastered over his face, jackpot, she had found it.

 As the crowd parted for the determined terrapin like the red sea Aurora’ saw his massive mitts covered in blood. Whose blood was that? He looked very upset and stressed. Her happy ray of sunshine looked so angry and she fucking hated it. Wanted to run up to him and kiss him, make him smile she even had to refrain from calling out to him. It hurt to hold it in, hold in his name. It turned bitter on her tongue and it swirled around the remaining saliva on her palette to wash the anger from her mouth.

 Then she watched his stride hesitate. He slowed and his nostrils flared as he neared her position. His dull blue eyes widened, brightened, his current mood momentarily forgotten he began to search the crowd frantically.

 Jesus fucking Christ those god damn mutant noses, he had smelt her! A flawless entry and she was compromised by their over achieving mutant senses.

 “God damnit.”

 She had to think quickly, she needed to disappear before he followed that god damn nose like a fucking blood hound.

 As luck would have it a man wearing an ungodly amount of cologne walked up next to her. She reacted quickly and shimmied up to him batting her violet eyes and smiled.

 “Helloo.” Her hand reached for his chest adjusting his name tag so she could read it. “Mattson…I’m new here and you look like a man who knows where things are.” Her hands ran over his chest to his shoulders keeping her proximity close to keep him interested.  “Would you be willing to show me where the mess hall is. I’m starving.” Her hands ran down his arms trying to get as much of the reeking scent of his over compensation all over her hands. Anything to mask her natural scent, to throw Mikey off her trail.

 The man looked Aurora over and his smiled widened enjoying the intimate contact. “Sure thing sweetie, I can show you whatever you want.” His arm snaked around her low back and he pulled her closer.

 As she pulled him away from Mikey’s last know location, down a different corridor both of them were grabbed.

 “I heard this one needed a tour, I’d be more than happy to show you around blondie. I can get you into far more places than he can.” Mikey was leaning down practically lapping at her ear. Fuck, fuck, fuck…..

 “Oh I’m sure he can show me around, it’s ok I don’t wanna bother you, you look important.”

 “Oh no, no bother at all and I insist. I’ll take it from here Mattson.”

 The man looked terrified as he pried himself away from the two and high tailed it down the hall leaving Aurora in Mikey’s clutches.

 “Not smart.” Mikey growled nuzzling into the back of her hair while pushing her towards a door.

 She didn’t struggle; Michelangelo wasn’t drawing attention to her to out her presence  so she didn’t either. His beak was pressed into her hair taking in deep breaths, his grip was secure but not too tight, she would easily be able to break free but something told her to follow his lead.

 Allowing him to usher then into what looked like an unused office, she turned when Mike pushed her into the room and quickly locked the door behind them.  

 There he stood, full height; the shortest of his three brothers but Mikey still had an impressive stature. Just as bulky as Raphael but not as tall. The dullness in his eyes was gone, vibrant baby blue hues swirled in his irises as he took her in, up and down. He gawked hungrily, mouth open in a wicked smile.

 “M-mike.” She whined suddenly finding it difficult to breath. That fucking look was devouring her whole. “Say something…do something.”

 He moved quicker then she had remembered him able and found herself pressed up against the wall with a brutal shove. The back of her head clacked with the dry wall pushing a huff from between her lips which was quickly silenced by his mouth. Mikey slanted his lips over hers plunging his board tongue into the warm cavern of her mouth still hung open from shock.

 The thought was to fight back, to push him away but that god damn mouth of his, that tongue swept away any and all resistance that remained in her head. God he was good and tasted even better, pure bliss.

 He must have felt her melt into him because the deep rumble that emanated from his chest vibrated into her chest as his reached down to grab hand fulls of her ass. Her hands moved around his thick shoulders grasping wildly at his bald dome, more, More, MORE!

 Mikey’s mouth separated from hers with a wet pop and descended down her throat nipping and sucking at the flesh growling and groaning like a wild beast.

 “Mikey….” Her words breathless as his hands cupped her backside squeezed at the plump flesh in his palms spreading her cheeks.

 “Again.” He mewled against her throat cooling the saliva spread across her flesh.

 She obliged willingly giving him his full name, “Michelangelo.”

 “Unngghh fuck yesssss…..” He lunged forward and his teeth sunk into her neck as he began to grind his titanium hard cock along her clothed core.

 “God Mike I miss you.”

 “Do you?” his breathing was labored as he tried to keep his cool but was failing miserably. He rocked his hips again mesmerized by the friction.

 “Every day, since he took you and your brothers from me.”

 One hand relinquished its hold from her ass and his finger drug along her hip lining the top of her pants before slipping below. He smiled against her throat finding no underwear beneath. It gave him better access as his thick digit parted the swollen folds sinking into the accommodating heat it sought.

 “Did you enjoy Leo last night?” he husked sinking his finger deep hooking it to gain a gasp from his prey.

 Aurora arched into his hand clawing at his shoulders as he hit the section of nerves at the top of her snapping cunt. “Mikey!”

 Mikey pressed the spot again leaning into her ear as his voice dropped an octave. “Did you?”

 “Yesss, I did. It had been so long, it hurt a little. I miss taking you too Mike, Raph too. I miss your tongue, your laugh, your cooking….arghhh…ahh…..fuck!” true to form Michelangelo was the best with his hands. The talented little shit always knew how to bring her to a shuttering climax the quickest compared to his brothers and just with his fingers. And today was no exception; she could feel it rushing through her blood, lighting up her central nervous system setting her ablaze with need.

 He worked that finger inside her swirling the pad of his finger over and over making sweet grunting moans in her ear. His sounds always got her going, bringing her closer to her peak quicker.

 “Can you cum for me?”

 Just then his thumb gathered the moister from her core and circled with the right amount pressure against the soft pearl at the hood of her sex and Aurora gave way. If it wasn’t for his hold on her Aurora would have collapsed as she toppled over into her climax. Her body clenched around his finger gaining a groan from the youngest.

  “That’s it, cum for me. Good girl.”  

  She began to shake as he helped prolong her climax repeating the stimulating motion rocking his finger in and out of her. Then he pulled her ear lobe into his mouth and sucked gently as he slowed his motions allowing her to finally come down.

  As the last of her climax subsided Michelangelo pulled his drenched fingers from her body and brought them to his mouth. Keeping eye contact the terrapin slipped them into his mouth and sucked them clean. His eyes closed as he savored the taste swirling his tongue to get the last trace of her essence. “Even better than I had imagined.” Slowly he moved forward brushing his lips against the shell of her ear and whispered. “I have a birthmark.” 

  A test, but she knew what he was talking about, so intuitive, smart. She tried to calm her breathing, Mikey was intense when he wanted. “Your left ass cheek, I always told you it looked like a slice of watermelon. I always enjoyed chewing on it when you laid on your stomach after a shower. That ass makes the perfect set of bongo drums. ”

  He stopped moving and pulled back, his eyes were wide with surprise and Mikey let out a long breath.  “I want to remember, I really do. But you need to get going though; he can’t know you’ve been here. Please hurry, he’s ordered Leo to kill you.”  @imthegreenfairy88 @tmntspidergirl​ @ravn-87​ @alonia143​ @blossom-skies​  

#tmnt #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michaelangelo #tmnt fanfiction #tmnt fandom #tmnt fic #TMNT TMNT fanfiction #the forgotten #chapter five #punishment

[square-blunt]

Even though you're never there I didn't feel you disappear.

WOOOOOOOOO I HAVE NOT SLEPT IN THREE DAYS LET'S FUCKING GO WITH A MUMZA & MR. TOMMY DANGER CAREFUL KRAKEN INNIT FIC WITH A THEMES OF REGRET AND CLOSURE WIHT A SPECIAL APPEARANCE FROM HAPPY GHOSTBUR AND FRIEND BC WILBUR SOOT CAN SUCK MY FUCKING DICK LETS FUCKING GO

Tw- a slight bit of a panic attack, but it doesn't last long at all, only a line or two, uh, death mention, Tommy's normal 'I love women' humor, I've taken the liberty to add some of my own hc about how this whole thing works and it's better than what ever Soot (derogatory) could come up with bc i say so. Wc: 4200 (lmfao 420 lol haha) AO3: here

-

Tommy regrets a lot of things. He doesn’t realize how much until he’s walking back from the hotel one cold, windy night. Nothing he would admit, oh no, he would never do that. It was only a way for people to target him more.

‘Talk less, smile more,’ Wilbur would say, ‘everything you say can be used by our enemies.’ And Tommy took that to heart… later than he should have. After Exile to be exact.

‘There’s a reason you never told Techno about what happened,’ Puffy had said, ‘you were scared he would use your trauma against you.’ And she was right… to a point. All this 'would say', 'had said', it didn’t matter to Tommy, it couldn't matter less because what’s done is done, what’s said is said, and who’s gone… is gone. Forever. There’s no point in fighting the unfightable. Battle, person, there was no point. The last time he reached to try and change anything he got killed- he was abandoned, again, and left to die. He knows his situation isn’t fair- Puffy’s told him so, Eret’s told him so, Ranboo’s told him so- but that doesn’t change the fact that it is. It is unfair that he can’t… have things, people. As soon as he makes something for himself, people try and take it away from him, as soon as he finds something that makes him happy they get snatched out of his hands, as soon as he finds people who are willing to help him, unapologetically, no strings attached, they are murdered in front of him. It isn’t fair, and no one else seems to see it. That’s something he regrets. Letting it get this bad. Because if all of this is happening to him, is being blamed on him, there must be something wrong, right? Ranboo doesn’t remember things, so maybe he did something awful and just… doesn’t remember. He burnt George’s house down, and if that warrants Dream’s abuse for months then he could have done anything to deserve everything else. To have almost everything and everyone he loves to be taken away from him time and time again. He couldn’t show emotion about it either, because he would be punished then, too. His best friend got blown up and he- he fucking- says something about how that’s not fair and then- he gets beat to death in a fucking box- for the crime of- fucking, what would that even count as, questioning the great Technoblade?

‘Oops- sorry- you enjoyed your music a little too much I’m going to kill your best friend and throw you in the prison for it, shouldn’t have done that, Tommy, c’mon now you now better-’ It was fucking ridiculous. He can’t understand why his consequences are so extreme compared to everyone else- Schlatt still got a grave for fuck’s sake! He has no fucking idea if anyone ever made him one- he knows Tubbo did, but Tommy and Tubbbo- Tubbo is the only one who actually gives to fucks about him at this point. Ranboo might be another, but with his memory shit, it’ll only be a matter of time before all he knows of Tommy is what other people tell him. Puffy’s only doing therapy for him because she feels guilty about losing Foolish, Eret, as much as he cares about her, is really only by his side because she feels she has a debt to pay, he’s the one following Wilbur around, fuck what Sam used to be to Tommy, Quackity was only going to get worse, Jack and Niki tried to fucking blow him up- anyone else who has unapologetically been by his side has been killed right in front of him. Everyone who has ever stood up for him has been killed in front of him or almost been killed in front of him- maybe that’s why. Maybe that’s why no one wants to be on his side because they’re afraid of the trouble he brings.

He’s a liability. They don’t want to die- so they’d rather let him die than risk anything.

He’s not a kid.

He’s something to avoid like the plague, and anyone who even remotely cared about him caught it. He feels tears sting his eyes. He hears a big gust of wind shake the trees before it whips around him- carrying a voice. A familiar voice. It whispers in his ear and settles in his mind, soft, like a blanket, he can hear it clear as day, asking if he needs anything, asking what his favorite thing in the world is, crying- crying out that he’s scared- asking with tears burning his face if it’ll be alright, ‘You promised I’d be ok!’

He regrets failing Ghostbur the most out of everything. He regrets not spending enough time with him, he regrets not telling him how much he meant to him- he sprints the rest of the way home. The digs through all his chests, his ender chest, not stopping until he finds-

“Blue, blue, blue, where is it- fuckin- please tell me I have some left, no- fuck where is it? What happened to it- please tell me- oh thank fuck- thank fuck-” After combing through the same two chests multiple times, he finally finds a few handfuls of blue left. Choking back a sob, he sees what's left of the clear turn blue and grow heavy in his hands. Ghostbur remarked that any blue he gave Tommy turned blue on contact, that it was odd, because it only happened with a few other people- Phil and Eret. People with towering regret. Phil must have regretted killing Wilbur… Eret, well, Tommy knows all too well their regret. Tommy was never able to place exactly what his regrets were.

He knows now that his regrets have only grown to encompass everything he knows.

Fuck, he feels so guilty about Ghostbur- it was Tommy's fault, wasn't it? He blamed Sam in the moment, but it really was… he was the one who told Ghostbur what to do- he was the one to use him to get into the prison in the first place. And he had to try and- calm him down- his fear still haunts Tommy's nightmares. Because he did promise. He did promise everything would be ok. But it wasn't, Tommy botched it, and Dream- Tommy had to watch- shit, it was his fault. Ghostbur is gone and there's nothing he can do to bring him back. He doesn't know anything about resurrection, and he- maybe- what if he agreed to let dream out if he got ghostbur back- no, no- no, no that's exactly what Dream wants. He wants Tommy to feel as though he's his only option. So Dream still has control. He… the last thing he wants for Ghostbur is to become a trading point. On the verge of tears, the blue changes in his hands. That never happened before- the blue changing. He looks down, and sees that the blue has turned into wool.

He hears a sheep bleat happily outside his door.

He scrambles up, moving faster than he has in a while, throwing his door open- he's not at his house. He's… not in the server even- what the hell-

It's still nighttime, but the stars are thousands of times brighter than he remembers. Instead of the prime path ahead of him, there's a quartz walkway spanning under tall birch and spruce trees; it seems that the stars are in the leaves, too. He looks behind him, hoping to hide back in his house- but it's not there. Instead, a quartz and mossy cobble archway, with more quartz pathing spilling out behind it. Tommy… might be stuck here. But he doesn't start to panic. He feels a strange kind of calm. Like this realm will let him out when his business is done. But he doesn't know what his business is.

He feels the weight leave his hands. He looks down- and the blue wool has turned clear. It's turned into delicate spindles of… something. Back to its original state. That has… never happened to Tommy before.

He looks past his hands, and the path lights up where his feet are. He jumps around a little, the light disappearing when his feet leave the path, and reappearing as they make contact again.

He laughs.

He dances around, his smile growing bigger.

The stars and the leaves seem to laugh with him.

"Hello, Tommy." a soft voice says behind him. A woman's voice.

Tommy stops, turning around, his grip tightening around the… well, it's not blue anymore, is it?

The woman is standing under the archway, tall, wearing black robes that flow around wings that are tucked neatly behind her, her long black hair almost seems a dark purple when it catches the light. To top it all off, she has a large black hat, similar to a witch’s hat, but Tommy understands that she doesn't want to hurt him. But he can never be too careful.

"Who- who the fuck are you?" Tommy says, defensively.

"Please, don't tell me that's how you greet every woman you come across?" She says, lightness in her voice and laughter in her eyes.

"Only the ones who trap me in weird- what is this place?" Tommy mutters, then asks.

"This is my home," she says clasping her hands together in front of her. "I figured you might need some closure."

"It's very pretty," Tommy murmurs again, looking down at his feet.

"Thank you, Tommy, I-"

"Wait, how do you know my name? I've never seen you before, and trust me, I would remember if I had met you." Tommy says, trying to lighten the small ball of worry in his chest. The woman laughs.

"Oh, you are exactly like my husband-"

"Oh no- You're married? Why?? A woman like you can't be tied down to just one man-"

"Tommy!" The woman laughs more.

"Augh- you're tall- you're so fucking tall and dark and mysterious- fucking hell you're tall- like I'm comfortable enough in my masculinity but still-" Tommy laughs, "and you're wearing all black- who's funeral are you going to?" he adds sarcastically. His face falls as her mood noticeably changes more somber.

"Everyone's- and no one's." she takes a few steps forward, and sighs. "My name is Kristin, Goddess of death."

"...what- i- how can- Wait a minute- oh fuck am I dead again- Wait a fucking minute where the hell were you the first three times I died- or for Tubbo- or for- Wilbur- Ghost- Ghostbur? Mexican Dream? Are they here? What do you fucking mean goddess of death? Is this the afterlife? Why the fuck didn't we go here-"

"Tommy, Tommy, I understand that you are.. allowed to ask questions, I called you here against your will- I will let you go back, I promise, and I'm going to try and answer all of your questions. Shall we walk?" She steps up, offering an arm.

Tommy is hesitant. If she… is actually the goddess of fucking death itself does he even have a choice? He nods and takes her arm. He immediately is filled with a cozy warmth- like drinking hot chocolate on a snowy day, finally getting in bed after working all night, a warmth that feels like home, like rest. Tommy muses if that's what a true, honest to prime death would feel like. When your joints finally stop aching, your breath stops rattling around your lungs.

His didn't feel like rest.

He wonders if he'll have a true death- he wonders if his joints will ever stop aching, because they do already. His breath rattles around in his lungs. Will he ever feel rested? With everything he's been through, with all the guilt he's got, probably not.

"Tommy-" Kristin begins to say,

"Are you an American? You sound-" Tommy tries to postpone the conversation he knows she's about to start

"Tommy-" she sighs, but he knows she's not mad.

"I know, I know, I use humor to cope with my trauma and to avoid talking about it, Puffy's told me this." Tommy quickly says. He feels something light brush his other arm- a feather, Kristin's put her wing around him.

"Puffy's smart, you should listen to her." Kristin nods. "But even Einstein didn't have all the answers-"

"Who?"

"-so you still should ask questions." She waves away his confusion with a motherly smile. "And you've asked plenty. And I have plenty of answers. So, one, no. You aren't dead. I simply realm hopped you to me. Any doorway can become a gateway, and it is quite easy to make one for someone like me. Something that I can't do, however, is help with pre-set death rules. Each timeline we make- just plain old 'live your life and die' got boring, so we shook it up. You all got canon lives, which… are completely not up to me. I do not get to decide which death is canon or not, and I don't get to even interact with your spirits until the third."

"Ok, then I wanna talk with the motherfucker who is in charge of those because I have a few words for them-"

"Tommy, trust me, you don't. While you are of great interest to them, and they do like you a lot, they are not going to budge on things. They are stubborn as hell- but they're a storyteller."

"Well, they're fucking stupid whoever they are."

"Although, something they- any of us really- didn't plan for was Dream having the revive book- or the revive book getting stolen from my husband in the first place. I can't tell you how many meetings I had to sit in to try and convince the others not to smite him off his earth- but that's a story for another time. Because of Dream knowing… the contents of that book, he was able to hold souls from coming to me, and he was able to place them wherever he liked. He didn't do Wilbur's soul correctly, however. His soul slipped through the cracks and got placed in… he called it limbo? That caused some issues for Dream that I'll tell you about later, but he messed up again, placing Mexican Dream in a limbo of his own, but those circumstances allowed me to save his soul from Dream-"

"Wait if you could save MD then why not-"

"Wilbur, like I said, slipped away from Dream and fell into his limbo. But, because Dream had no hand in actually directly placing Wilbur there, I wasn't able to save him. Not to mention, the manner of his death…. Nevertheless, I was able to save Mexican Dream from his limbo. In hindsight, I maybe shouldn't have, because Dream learned from that and you… you were placed somewhere I can't even access-"

"The void," Tommy whispers. He doesn't want to think about it, he shifts closer to Kristin, holding tighter to the fluff in his hand and onto Kristin's arm. She, in turn, holds him closer with her wing.

"There's an in-between life and death, and an in-between here and the limbos. Pockets of emptiness, waiting to be filled. More people find themselves there than you think, but even fewer who find their way out- you, and one of our own. There have been others, but your entire life has been different. Do you remember your life before the SMP?" she asks, softly. "You don't have to answer, but it's something to think about."

"I just want- Wilbur said that his limbo was awful. That he was there for thirteen years and that it was awful, and now because of me Ghostbur is there, too…" The black hole in his past is the last thing he wants to think about, so he changes the subject- guilt radiating off him.

"Remember the reason why I couldn't save Wilbur?" she asks, a twinkle in her voice.

"Because Dream didn't put him there- you can only save people who got put somewhere they weren't supposed to be?" Tommy looks up at her, hope tingling in his chest.

"Because Wilbur's soul fell… as naturally as it could have, Dream had to find a soul to replace Wilbur's with- with you, there was no need to find a soul to replace, because he had your soul in his hand, but for Wilbur, it was a… natural resurrection. With a missing soul, the entire continuum would collapse. So, he swapped Wilbur with Ghostbur. He placed Ghostbur somewhere he wasn't supposed to be. I was able to save him. Would you like to see him?" she smiles down at him.

"Wait he-" Tommy stops, his head spinning. Kristin stops too.

"He's safe. He's safe, and it's actually because of you. Because of that book- you can only place a soul in the void once. That was you. He had to put Ghostbur somewhere I could get him, or else his plan falls apart. Now… I can show you where Ghostbur is. But, I can't let him see you, or let you talk to each other. It's a precaution we have to take-"

"No, no, that's fine I just want to make sure he's- that he's- that I'm not-" Tommy shakes his head, trying to clear his mind, he feels like a vice has been released- one of many, but it's one. He takes a long shaky breath and nods his head. "I want to make sure that he's happy."

"Alright, come with me." She leads Tommy off the path and into the trees. Tommy hadn't lied when he said it was pretty. He has lighter steps now, and his smile is bigger than it was when he got here. They walk a little ways, Tommy sprinting when he hears the sound of familiar laughter, bright and carefree. He peeks out from behind a tree to see a clearing with a small house, mossy stone bricks, wood, and- and cobblestone. And, one semi-translucent ghost sitting behind a wall, in a garden of blue and yellow flowers, giggling. He's got a new sweater, still yellow, but there aren't any stains on it- blue or red. It's just… yellow. Pure yellow.

"I also pulled a few strings after that Skeppy incident," Kristin says, coming up behind Tommy, and Tommy perks up as he hears Ghostbur laugh again, this time a blue sheep running around the wall and up to Ghostbur.

"You found me! Good job, Friend!" Tommy hears Ghostbur say. Tommy feels a sting in his eyes, and then a hand on his back.

"You promise he's happy?" Tommy whispers.

"I swear," Kristan answers. Ghostbur stands and says something to the sheep, who bounds away. Ghostbur begins to count- backward from 10. Tommy doubles over, clutching his stomach.

"Tommy?" Kristin crouches down next to him, rubbing circles into his back.

"Counting down from 10 is not a good thing, I've decided," Tommy says, looking ahead, as Ghostbur laughs his wonderful laugh and disappears around the wall. His throat becomes dry, he doesn't want to cry in front of a goddess.

"It wasn't your fault." Kristin stands next to him, Tommy straightening up to meet her.

"Wasn't it?" he feels a tear run down his face, as he stares at the spot in that gates where Ghostbur was just moments ago.

"It was Dream's, as are so many others. Just because he punished you, doesn't mean it wasn't his fault, to begin with. Chances are, it was his fault more than anyone else's," Kristin says, her hand still running Tommy's back. He sniffles. "Are you ready to go?"

"No."

"I know, I'm sorry." Kristin's hand leaves his back, and it takes all his willpower to turn away from the small cottage and follow her. They make it back to the path, and she stops, "Oh, he gave this to me, but I don't really need it, so here. Have some blue."

That's when Tommy cries.

She's holding out a handful of light blue wool, he opens his left hand to show his one wool, now a dark blue. He reaches out, quickly, snatching it out of her hands, and he sobs out a sorry. The blue, once again, turns dark blue on contact. Then it turns clear- and then immediately turns dark blue again. It fluctuates between clear, and every shade of blue, as more and more tears fall from his face. He blocks out Kristin's words on habit- Wilbur would be telling him to suck it up by now. He tries to stop the tears, to stop sobbing, to regain composure, but he can't.

"I- I- I've- I'm a murd- I murdered pe- people- I'm not- a good p- person- why- did he tr- eat me like- I was- he treat- they tre- treated me like- like- like- like a human- when no- no one else- did- and- look at- look at where that got h- him-" Tommy turns his face into Kristin's side, and she hugs him close, closing her wings around him too. He holds the blue up to his face, letting the tears catch in it.

"Tommy, there's a reason they chose you. It's because they saw what you could be- who you could be. They wanted to help you. They knew, under all that doubt and hurt and regret was a boy who loved his friends. And they love you, too. I swear on it." She keeps rubbing circles into his back, letting Tommy cry. "I know all about sorrow, Tommy," she says, kind, "I understand that you will hurt. There's no bringing back who you lost, and it will hurt for as long as you live- but that hurt is proof that you care. It's proof that you are a good person. You are a good person."

Tommy breathes in a long shuddering breath, and lets it out, moving his arms to hug her back.

"Thank you, mom- oh wait I'm sorry-" Tommy pulls back, absolutely mortified at his slip-up, Kristin just laughs- not at Tommy, no, no, it's happy… motherly.

"No, Tommy, I can be your mother if you'd like!" She smiles.

"Yeah, because Puffy is kinda my dad because Phil didn't really do a good job." Tommy looks down at his feet.

"Oh, of course, I think my husband would be fine with adopting another kid. Although, considering what happened to the first one- I'm kidding, I'm kidding, he could have turned out worse," Kristin laughs, holding Tommy’s face and wiping away the tear marks.

"Wait- wasn't I flirting with you a few minutes ago-" Tommy smiles, laughing too.

"Oh my-"

"Welp, you're still my mother now- that makes you a milf, you're welcome!" Tommy doesn't mean anything by it, of course, he's just pointing it out.

"Tommy!!" Kristin laughs harder, and Tommy's smile grows bigger. "We should get you back anyways, you need some sleep."

"But moooooooom-" Tommy complains, joking, of course.

"Now, now, Tommy, I am your mother, I know what's best," Kristin says, picking up the bit.

"My stomach hurts, do I have to go to school tomorrow?" Tommy jokes, walking back towards the archway.

"Oh dear," Kristin tsks, walking next to him, putting the back of her hand up to his forehead, "You don't seem to have a fever at the moment, we'll see how you feel in the morning."

They laugh and joke around until they reach the portal, and she reaches up to pluck a feather from her hat and hand it to Tommy.

"A token for my son. Something you can flaunt around. Also- can you do me a favor?" Kristen smiles.

"Oh, of course!" Tommy gingerly takes the feather and spins it around in his fingers.

"When you get back, can you just tell my husband I said hi? He'll see it." She looks through the empty portal longingly, and Tommy wonders who this husband is.

"If he ever hurts you I'll kill him, " He says, completely serious.

Kristin laughs, "I know you will, Tommy, I know you will. Thank you." She snaps her fingers and the archway leads into his house. She ruffles his hair, and Tommy playfully swats her hand away. "I'll see you again, be safe, ok?"

"I will. Tell Ghostbur, if you can, that…. Tell him that I'm sorry, and that I miss him?" He says, one foot through the gateway, before stopping and looking back.

"I will. Good luck, Tommy.” She smiles, and Tommy can’t help but smile back. He steps through the portal, and looks back one last time- and it’s gone. He sees those oak doors, the prime path outside, he hears Shroud above him. His smile stays.

/msg all: Hey, Kristin’s husband? She says hi.

He laughs.

/msg all: She also adopted me so I’m your son now, good luck L kekw

With that, he closes his communicator and lets the chaos ensue. He spins the feather in one hand and holds the blue- back in its original... substance? He opens his ender chest, placing the blue somewhere he knows he’ll find it, and lays the feather next to his discs.

“Thank you. I’ll do you proud.”

#im so fucking mad #i posted this without a fucking title #and you can't go back and add one? #tumblr wtf????? #anyways i might do a second chapter of this from phils pov directly after this one takes place #so lmk if yall would be intrested #anyways #gremfics #c!tommy #tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #c!mumza #mumza #dsmpmumza #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp writing #ghostbur #friend the sheep #panic attack tw #c!tommy pod #c!techno crit kinda? #also c!phil crit if you squint #so #c!techno crit #c!phil crit #uhhhhhhhhhh #death threat tw