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#Pit Rage: Our Baby
puppetmaster13u · 6 months
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Prompt 78
 “So let me get this straight.” Mr Nightwing pinched the bridge of his nose, looking tired before motioning to Mr. Jason. “You were in a Pit episode, which if I remember right usually causes you to rampage-” Well that was rude. “-and instead of that happening it somehow latched onto them-” Mr Nightwing motioned towards them. “And now you’re… co-parenting. With the Pit rage.” Honestly he didn’t understand why Mr Nightwing was having so much trouble understanding. Mr. Pit (“Y’know what, we’re stealing our host’s middle name, call us Peter.”) was really nice and bundled them up in blankets even though they were failed clones and should have been terminated, and Mr Jason was really nice too and made them food, not the icky mush!
 “What the fuck little wing.” 
Bonus DCxDP crossover could have the clones be some Danny Phantom characters. Maybe reincarnated, maybe through a wish, maybe just ghost shenanigans, who knows
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dcxdpdabbles · 4 months
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I JUST SAW THESE POSTS OF DANNY BEING RAS AL GHUL CHILD LIKE THE FIRST THAT IS LIKE 25-30 YEARS OLDER THAN TALIA AND MAKE MY BRAIN WORKS FUCKING WIGGLE!?!?!??
anyway
Danny established the status quo and the disappeared for 20-60 years and the is summoned by Ra where he’s like “Dad you could’ve have called my personal phone you know that right?” And Ra’s like “YOU WENT OFF THE GRID FOR YEARS AND NEVER TOOD ME-!!??!? Now do you look different? Are you eating? What’s with comingoutthesummoningcirclefortheghostking? HMMM???”
“Ah- I knew I forgot something! Let me tell you all about it! I see you brought the whole fam and in laws let’s have dinner and discuss it- AWWWW THATS BABIES!!!” *Damian, Jason, Tim, and Dick being referred to as “babies”*
“Excuse me.” Danny then fucking tackles them in hugs and loves while dodging and/or holding their punches and kicks
"My maternal uncle is coming for a visit and likely evaluate my living arrangements.. We must be at our absolute best when he is here. " Damian announces one evening right as the family is finishing preparing for a night of crime fighting.
Everyone freezes from their respective stations, twisting around to stare at the young Robin in confusion. He doesn't notice; he is too busy making sure his katana is sharpened to perfection and balancing it on his fingertips.
"Baby Bat?" Dick calls, "What do you mean by that?"
Damian pauses in his prep work, approaching the eldest with a pretty impressive scowl. " Mother sent a messenger a few days ago about Uncle's plan audit. Should we fail it, I shall be removed into a different household."
"An audit? Removed?" Steph repeats, confused, but Damian has no idea why. He thought it was pretty apparent that Uncle Daniel would be scoring them, which would determine if Damian would be allowed to continue living within them. He has done so to all of Ra Al Ghul's offspring, and nothing his Grandfather has done has been able to stop him.
How could they think they would have more power than his grandfather?
"When shall Dusan be here?" Father asks, quickly switching on the home security. "What kind of attack should we expect?"
Damian scoffs, "Not the White Ghost. Uncle Dusan is on the other side of the world on a mission for Grandfather. No, Uncle Daniel will be the one conducting the suit. He is the eldest, after all."
Father's eyes narrow behind the white lenses of his masks. "I was unaware your mother had more siblings."
Damian considers the words, wondering how he could politely- at least he shames Alfred- remind his father that his grandfather has been around for hundreds of years. Staying at his peak through the usage of the Lazarus Pit, he has never been short of lovers.
And sometimes those lovers have given him children, many who aged and died naturally, as none has deemed worthy of the Lazarus. All except for one, the First Son, who has never needed the Pits but remained youthful and powerful on his own.
The perfect heir.
It's too bad he had abdicated long before Damian was even a thought.
"Grandfather has had many children, but Uncle Daniel is different. Special. He is the First Son."
"Capital letters," Todd cuts in, shaking his head. "It's never good when the League of Assiasans assigns capital letters. How strong is he?"
"He could easily best Grandfather and all under Grandfather's command," Damian replies, watching as the rest of the vigilantes grew uneasy by the information. It's good that they are wear of Uncle Daniel's power but they have nothing to fear of his wrath. "Uncle Daniel is a pacifist. He carries a protective core."
"A Al Ghul that a pacifist? I'll believe it when I see it." Drake droned as he was clipping on his utility belt. At once, Damian felt his body grew hot with rage. No matter what, it seemed Drake would always curse his family.
The way he says the family name drips with disrespect as if the other teen was saying a swear.
"My Uncle Daniel is a great man!" He shouts, gripping his sword so har his knuckles ache. Drake's face twists as if though he smelled something foul and the rage burning in Damian's chest spreads to his whole body.
He is just about to reach for his throwing knives when a familiar cold hand settles into his hair. "Aw thank you Little One. I love you too."
"Uncle Daniel!" Damian shouts excitably, forgetting the fool he was about to run his blades through. His uncle stands before him, the same darl night hair, warm blue eyes, and a crooked smile that had secretly comforted him in his youth.
"Where in the world did he come from!?" Damian hears one of Father's adopted brutes gasp but does not care to see who as his uncle quickly reels him in for a hug.
Hugging Uncle Daniel was like being wrapped in warm blankets in winter. He always ran rather cold, but it was lovely to be wrapped in his arms and surrounded by his protection.
It felt like nothing in the world could harm him from here.
"You seem well, Little One. Are you happy?" His uncle says. The delict of their native tongue is another comfort Damian can sink into.
"I am." He allows, snuggling his face against his stomach, as childish as it is. If only he could grow taller like his father.
"Wonderful. I'm so glad." His uncle then switches to English, ignoring all the weapons drawn and pointing at him from the Bats. Damian steps back to admire the man he wishes to grow into. "I'm terribly sorry for arriving so late, nephew. You must be tired. When is your bed time?"
"I do not have a bedtime." Damian scoffs. Uncle Daniel frowns, reaching into his chest to pull out a clipboard and a pen- he'll never get used to his uncle storing things within himself no matter how often he sees it. Damian is pretty sure he heard someone gag.
A soft click is heard as his uncle opens the pen and quickly scribbles something down. He is not tall enough to see what is written, but he can see clearly as day that his uncle selected the red ink of the muli-color pen he is using.
He only uses red when he is doing bad things. Damian breaks into a sweat. "What was that? Uncle what did you just write?"
"No bedtime. Tsk tsk." Uncle Daniel mutters, looking around the cave with disapproval. "No proper heating living space."
"Oh no! I do not live down here. This is merely the training grounds. We live upstairs" Damian quickly says, waving his hands frantically in the air as his uncle's unimpressed look. Curses, the auduit just began and already he got bad markings.
"Would you care for a tour? I shall not be going on patrol-"
"He forces you to fight crime? At your age?" Uncle barks, throwing a look of utter disgust at Father. It's the same one he gives Grandfather whenever the older man tries to raise child soldiers.
Even Damian had not been sent on any missions. His childhood had been intense training but nothing that was life-threatening.
"I volunteered to go!" He tries to defend Father, but his uncle only clicks his pen and scrambles more red ink on his paper.
Drat and Damian were actually enjoying living at the manor. He will likely have to say goodbye to it all and be moved to some house Uncle deemed more child-friendly.
"What is your diet here? Have you been taken to the doctor? Any form of therapy?" His uncle fires each question quickly, walking through Todd and Cain when they try to apprehend him without a glance.
His uncle is, and not to sound like the fools of his school, so cool.
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andersonlore · 4 months
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❝ SUB!ABBY ❞ ✶ ABBY ANDERSON !
★⠀warning y disclaimers — eighteen+, fem!reader, wlw sex, poc!friendly, sub!abby, cheating (on owen), dirty talk, abby gets fucked!, strap on (abby!r), hair pulling.
“you have to be quiet, baby. not unless you want owen to hear? okay?” your hands run over the fat of her butt, guiding her as she rides your strap, the cocked wedged deep within her, nearly causing her to see stars. “hmmm, you know maybe it isn’t such a bad idea for him to hear you.”
you never would have pegged her to be the type for pierced nipples, silver barbell with steel balls accentuating the sensitive bud, a reddish hue due to all your teasing. the small tattoo by her pretty pussy nearly sending you into a downward spiral. all of it combined had you crumbling to your knees, desperate to make her come.
it’s why you’d eaten her out the first time you’d ever been alone with her, the second time you fingered her in a dirty frat bathroom with the sight of sweet cunt as her slick drenched your hand, soaking you in her a nectar you thought would only visit you in your dreams. now, eros gifted you with her another time and you had prepared for this. strap tucked safely in your pants because abby would be here. owen was stupid enough to let her be around you, alone. now, the next time he couldn’t make her cum, she’d think of you.
your cock would never leave her mind, you wouldn’t let it.
abby took a look in the mirror again; the one you demanded to fuck in front it. the tension she held in her shoulders was evident when you suggested it but the beefcake in front of you just needs a little coaxing and you’d happily provide it for her — just like you always did.
“you like riding my cock? you look so beautiful, most gorgeous girl in the world.” your loving words make abby clench our your girth, bouncing on your cock. “tell me baby. c’mon. wanna hear how much you like it.”
abby just nods hoping it’s enough but it’s not.
you smack her ass harshly causing abby to whimper as buck her hips, causing a small bounce and the friction on your clit from the harness is delicious. baby, blue eyes are so wide but she knows better than to stop her pace. as a peace offering she goes faster before she’s attempting to speak.
she can’t voice it, not really. she’s scared of how much she loves it, how every time with owen, or any other man, never felt like this. you don’t pressure anymore, not when there’s only pure concentration laced on her face, furrowed blonde eyebrows as she bounces on your cock. soft, muscular thighs trembling intensely.
“how….how do you make me feel this good?” abby questions as she leans forward, resting her sweaty forehead against yours. you take it as in opportunity to hammer into her. planting your feet, before meeting her thrusts and you feel her back twitch as she whimpers pathetically in your ear, her breathing heavy as she takes it.
the eight inch pink dildo with the thick girth is double what she’s used to, maybe more, and it doesn’t help your filling every inch of her.
in a tight grip, you tug on her braid causing abby to lose it.
“oh, did you like when i pull on your braid, pretty girl?” abby whines when you pull harder, her clit throbbing, the pit in her stomach beginning to fill. she’s bucking her hips like a whole animal, meeting your powerful thrusts, neither of you hear the heavy footsteps approaching.
“yeah, please don’t stop. i’m almost there. fuck, i-i’m going to cum.” the moment she does its a dream come true for you. owen opens the door but abby is too fucked out, caught up in the wave of the earth shattering orgasm she’s riding, her body twitching as she whimpers into your neck.
he looks like he could kill you and if he does, it may be worth it but you decide now is the time to test your luck. the lame excuse of a man always parades abby in your face just because he knows how you feel for her. now you’re going to make him pay for it.
he’s stands there silently with rage as you smack her ass, looking him straight in the eyes as you do so. desperately, abby moans your name as you start to fuck her again. she sits up, but she’s still angled in a way she can’t see owen who looks like he can’t fucking move watching his girlfriend get fucked by the friend he was told to never worry about.
“c’mon angel, bounce on my cock, again. wanna see you squirt for me.” this time abby’s pace is brutal, her beefy body losing control as you make her drunk on your dick. “now tell me what i wanna hear. you know what to say, angel.”
“yeah? want me to say it?” you nod as her weight drops on you every few seconds, nearly causing you to cum in the process.
“you fuck me better than anyone, baby.” owen angrily stomps away causing abby to turn anxiously, realizing whose been behind her this entire time. the look of horror written all over her face, but then you flip her over, pushing her against the furry gray rug.
“thank you for being such a good girl. now, let me fuck my sweet girl’s brains out, yeah?”
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reiderwriter · 3 months
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My Love Is Mine All Mine
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Week 2 of my Playlist series 🎧💕
Summary: Spencer Reid always liked broken things, but you didn't think you could be fixed. Maybe all you needed was understanding and companionship.
Warnings: slight angst, case details mentioned - misogyny, kidnapping, etc, but no graphic/ explicit details. Hurt/Comfort.
A/N: Tumblr, please let me post haha I've been good, I promise 🙏 This fic is so late because I've been having some technical issues with tumblr and it has greatly annoyed me, so hopefully if you're seeing this it's been fixed? Who knows... Thank you to everyone who has sent in songs so far for the Playlist series, I'll be cresting the playlist today and posting it for everyone to see and use!
Masterlist || Series Playlist
Falling for Spencer Reid wasn't in your plan for the new year, but looking back, it was probably something that was just bound to happen. 
He'd been the first person to show you any kindness after everything you went through, the first person who hadn't put their own rigid horror at your past before their attempts at sympathy. 
You watched the way people recoiled from you as you told them - bluntly, you had to be blunt - what the man in the cabin had done to you. 
He listened to your words, didn't interrupt, didn't quietly shake in anger, and refuse to meet your eyes like your father did, didn't weep for her baby like your mother did. He took your hand as it shook. He held your gaze. 
It was his job to ask questions, but there weren't many left to answer. 
The only reason you were alive was because his team had tracked the string of bodies to your kidnappers home. You were alive because one of his coworkers had put a bullet through his head, ending your nightmare. 
The very idea of love was repulsive to you as you emerged from that basement in the first days of the next year, and you remembered thinking the snow looked fresh and soft. You remembered wanting to lay in it, to wrap it around yourself like a warm blanket and drift into sleep. The cold ground would be as much comfort as you would allow yourself. 
Because after everything, you knew you didn't deserve love. 
You accepted understanding from him, though. 
When the shock wore off, you were awash in all the misery inflicted upon you. You raged, kicked, screamed, broke things, and made people uncomfortable. Nothing would numb the pain of being trapped inside your head, your head still trapped inside that basement, that cage. 
He came to visit you at the hospital. The nurses had given up on you, were content you were physically healing, and that they had technically done their job but not bothered by your deteriorating mental state. Some days, you swore that they pierced your skin in the wrong places purposefully, not even searching for your vein. 
But then he was there, with a book and a chess board, and he'd asked you if you'd ever played before. 
“No. Chess always seemed too…” You swallowed the bile that drowned your lungs and tried again. “Before, it was boring. An old person game, too many rules. Now… He said we shouldn't do things like this. Said we shouldn't cultivate our minds.” 
It was a confession again, but one that took a weight off your shoulders, and not one that pushed it further down. 
“Would you like to learn?” His tone was so soft and awkward, like a teenage boy asking a girl out on a first date, that you almost giggled. 
“I'll be honest and say you'll never beat me, I've played through most board combinations, including a large proportion of the 10^80 theorised checkmate positions, so if you'd rather do something else, that's fine, or I can leave, too, if… you'd… prefer?” 
You had laughed then, a thing that bubbled up from the pit of your stomach and left your shoulders shaking as you gasped for breath doubled over. 
You'd been in hell for six months, and he'd drawn you out of it for a few moments by rambling about chess. 
“Are you a patient person, Doctor Reid?” 
“I think so.”
“Then set up the board and let's play.” 
He beat you every time, obviously, but you enjoyed his small explanations of the moves, and you did improve slightly. 
More than that, you enjoyed his company. It wasn't that you talked extensively In your hospital room, oscillating between your lowest point and somewhere just a rung above that where the snow was falling and the air was fresh, but that he never looked at you the way others did. 
You were discharged and were sad to lose that small glimmer of normality. He'd come twice a week throughout January, and now you were back in your usual shape. You were being discharged, and so that would end. 
You were surprised that he came to pick you up from the hospital the day you left. 
The parents who had looked everywhere for you for half a year hadn't wanted to, and the close friends from before hadn't spared you a thought since reposting your missing poster on their social media pages. 
But the man you played chess with twice a week, the man who'd carried you out of hell himself was there. 
“Ready to go?” You nodded, dumbstruck, and followed as he grabbed your bag. 
You weren't exactly sure where it was you were going, but you followed the man anyway, only a small part of your brain shouting in protest considering the last time you'd been blindly trusting.
He led you back to an apartment with some bare furnishings but a large window and a warm soft blanket covering the bed. It wasn't his, but yours. 
“Your parents are paying for it. They're taking the city to court due to the circumstances. Apparently, there were numerous phone calls to law enforcement that went unnoticed, but the city is looking to settle, so you don't have to worry about rent for a while, maybe ever again. The WiFi is all set up, hot water is working, and so is the heating. The locks are triple enforced, and I'm right down the hall, so if you need-” 
“What?” 
He blinked at you and suddenly, looking sheepish, as if becoming aware that he'd presumed a friendship between the two of you without consulting you first. 
“I live down the hall.” 
You stared at each other for a few moments as you processed his words. He lived down the hall. He'd driven you to your new home, set everything up for you, and he lived down the hall. 
“You're a good man, Spencer Reid.” You whispered, turning away to not let the moment linger anymore than it already had. 
Chess nights became routine. You'd set up the board and play for an hour or two or until you were sick of losing. 
Gradually, though, the nights got longer. He'd arrive just as you were eating a meal, and you'd invite him to join you, or he'd bring along takeaway and you'd eat quietly together, talking about everything and nothing.  
One day, you'd mentioned a film. A popular one, one you'd loved as a child and still rewatched to this day. 
“I've never seen it, is it good?” He'd said. And in your shock, you jumped up and sent half the chessboard flying. 
“Well, it seems that now our game is over, that we have time to give you an education, Doctor Reid.” 
“I have three PhD's-” 
“And still you haven't seen Clueless?” 
You'd pulled him over to the couch he'd picked out for you, loaded up the movie and then invented a new tradition. 
Chess nights and film nights were separate days of the week. So he could always promise to be around for one of them even if he had to miss the other because of work. 
You didn't ask him about his job anymore. He saved people like you, and you didn't need to be thinking about people like you too much.
What they went through, if they survived physically. If they survived in other ways. 
He always visited you first when he returned, though. There would be a knock on your door at some point in the day or night, and he'd let you know he was home safe. 
Another tradition. You'd opened the door to let him in the first time he'd returned from a case after you moved in, and he'd leaned down and wrapped his arms around you. 
You heard the breath of relief, loud and emotional, and hadn't quite realised it had come from you until a few minutes later. Some part of you had thought he wouldn't come back. 
Now, every time he came home, you ran to the door and quietly comforted each other, reminding the other that no matter what happened, you were both there for each other. 
You weren't sure when traditions and movies turned into love or if it had lingered over you the entire time. You didn't think you could love someone right then, your heart broken into small pieces with the torment you'd suffered. 
But it was stitched back together with pieces of him still lodged inside. He was in the very fabric of your being as you became whole again. 
The truth was that you most likely couldn't find love again because there was no room in your heart for anyone else. And you'd never be able to reschedule chess nights to go on dates anyway. 
You weren't sure if Spencer ever figured out how much of hum you carried around with him, how your eyes followed his lips as he ran through decades of memories to give you the fact he thought would please you the most. You weren't sure if he loved you as much as you did him until you were.
You'd agreed to watch one of his movies for a change, agreeing to stop the streak of 80s brat pack classics to watch a black and white war film from Russia with no subtitles. You'd sat together on that couch under blankets you'd bought together months earlier, and he'd pulled you in closer.
“I want to watch the movie and translate at the same time. You should sit here.” He'd pulled you into his lap, letting your back fall against his chest as his lips fell to your ears, and he began to whisper. 
Sitting there so closely, so intimately, was almost torture. Unconsciously, your head tipped back with his words, displaying your neck and shoulders, silently willing his lips to drift even once. His arms wrapped around your waist, and you did your best not to squirm the entire movie, but with your heart beating out of your chest, it was a hopeless cause. 
“Did you enjoy it?” He whispered as the credits rolled, but you hadn't even noticed the movie had ended. It wasn't until the silence that followed his question stretched out notably that you came back to reality. You couldn't answer, in fact. You gaped for a few short moments, hoping something vague but accurate enough would just pop into your mind. 
As you attempted to negotiate yourself out of distraction, you turned your face to his, but he was closer than you thought.
Your noses touched, and your breaths mingled. His arms still wrapped around your waist, and your blankets still anchored you to one another. 
“I wasn't paying attention to the movie, Spencer. I'm sorry.” The words came out of you so fast, yet so quietly that you were surprised yourself how honest you had chosen to be. 
“Why not?” He asked, eyes having drifted sleepily down to gaze at your lips. 
You didn't answer his question but felt your cheeks flush red. You thought about pulling away, moving back, or at least laughing everything off, but you didn't. You stayed there, still like a deer in headlights. 
“Your voice was too distracting,” You forced some of the tension out of your body and let your head fall against his shoulder again, hoping this moment wouldn't end anytime soon. 
“Distracting?” He sounded concerned and shifted in his seat, lifting you up from your happy place in his arms until you were again face to face. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” 
The look on his face was so concerned and focused that you had to pause for a second to catch your breath. He cared about your comfort so much and paid attention to each word that came out of your mouth. He wanted your happiness more than anything in the world. 
“No. I'm never uncomfortable with you, Spencer.” You were back to whispering now, hands floating up to grab his own, fidgeting by his sides. You bought them up to your face and guided his hands to your cheeks, needing to show him just how comfortable you were with him in actions, not just words. Words could be dishonest. Actions were honest. 
His concern melted away as he began stroking your cheek with his thumb, smiling sweetly at you. 
Though you were both content, you'd never been quite this intimate before. So when his thumb swiped over the corner of your lips, your eyes both caught on each other. You could see him weighing up the outcomes in his head, going back and forth between pulling away and pushing in closer.
Slowly and softly, as though he were trying not to startle you, his head moved closer until his lips were on yours. 
It was a quiet kiss. You wouldn't describe it as fireworks, or butterflies, or anything loud and grand and passionate. It was quiet, and it was right. 
He pulled away seconds later, trying to gauge your reaction, but you followed him away and kissed him again. 
When you finally pulled away, it took you a few seconds to realise you'd climbed back into his lap, unconsciously having moved closer to him. You guiltily looked up, waiting to see any discomfort on his features, but to your surprise, he was busy straightening out your hair. 
“I love you, Spencer,” you whispered as he took care of you. He smiled, looking down at you once again, pulling his arms around you to gently lower both of you down to a laying position on your couch. 
“I love you, too,” he said as you held each other and drifted into contented sleep.
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flamingpudding · 11 months
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Part 4 of Ghost Kid in Gotham
<<1 Previous Next
How to catch a baby brother
Richard 'Dick' Greyson had a problem. It wasn't a nuclear level of problem but it also wasn't a paper cut level of problem either. Because apparently he had a baby brother no one in their family but Damien knew about. Granted Damien had confessed that said baby brother was dead and had supposedly died eight years ago.
The explanation that Talia had apparently pulled another Jason was not helpful at all. According to Damien, in response to Tims findings, there was no other way for the twin to be alive other than Talia having preserved his body and then decided after eight years to drop it into the pits. Well lets just say his opinion on that woman if it was already down in the depth it certainly was now.
Which, considering the glowing Lazarus green eyes, could mean that there was now an eight years old child running loose in the Bat Cave with Pit Madness. Not just a simple feral eight years old that looked like perfect B adoption material and so happened to be blood related.
"Guys we need a plan. We can't just let our little teethling run loose."
"Richard, do not refer to my brother as little teethling." Dick only grinned. "Well the little biter needs a nickname and until I find something else fitting its teethling. Or do you have a better suggestion?"
Sweet little Baby Bird was now glowering at him. Oh protective were we, his little brothers definitely were the cutest. He was definitely going to tease sweet little Dami about this later once the first phase of new little brother crisis was over. For now they had to find the little guy first. The Cave wasn't exactly childproof.
"Let's use Jason as bait." Tim suddenly suggested causing the second oldest to grimace. "The little guy apparently likes biting him. We could use that as an advantage."
"Absolutely fucking not." Little Wing disagreed and Dick chuckled in good humor.
"Aw come on Little Wing, this is your chance to make a bond with our new baby before any of us can."
"For once I agree with Todd. Absolutely not, who knows where he has been. I will not have my brother become sick from biting him." He would have cooed at this, if Jason's face change from surprise at the agreement to a purely offended scowl wasn't so funny.
"Okay no biting bait. But we gotta draw out the little guy and calm his Pit Rage." If that feralness the kid displayed had even anything to do with Pit Rage.Considering the glowing eyes though he would think so. Dick eyed Jasons for a moment, he didn't seem to be affected at all nor had he said anything about the Pit being upset or feeling anything strange. So maybe the little guy wasn't suffering to an extrem from it? But he had apparently been brought back by a Lazarus Pit, so the likelihood with their experiences so far was slim.
"Well we gotta find a way to secure the little guy before B comes back or Alfie finds out." Jason mentioned still scowling at Damien. "By the way, I want to be here when you guys tell B about this. I wanna see his face and make fucking sure the little biter won't be turned into another kid soldier."
"Jason." He scowled, this was definitely not the right time for that sort of discussion but he had a point, they needed to find little… what had Damien said his name was? Wait did Damien even tell them the little guy's name? They all had just been using nicknames so far.
"Dami, what's the little teethling's name again?"
"I haven't told you yet." Ah okay so he didn't have a hole in his memory. "It's Danyal, but when we were younger he didn't like the way grandfather and our teachers called his name and insisted on being called informally as Danny."
"Okay right, so we better find little Danny and get everyone together to introduce-"
"Might I ask who this 'little Danny' is, Master Dick?"
He did not scream. But his heart rate shot up with Alfred just appearing behind him like that. Really sometimes Alfred could be as bad as Cass in the ways of sneaking up on people without them knowing.
"Alfred, hey hi what are you doing down here?" He was not nervous, no he wasn't. The way the butler narrowed his eyes at him did definitely not scare him at all, nope.
"I was informed that all of you returned uninjured." Though his eyes narrowed at Jason's hand that got cut earlier and his brother instantly tried to hide it behind his back when he noticed Alfreds eyes on him. "But the four of you, despite having returned to the Cave, have not come up yet. So I was merely checking on you, to make sure nothing was wrong after all."
He gulped. Really there was no way of ever hiding anything from Alfred.
"Jason brought a child to the Cave that we found out is Damien's twin that had died eight years ago but was brought back to life and is now feral and hiding somewhere in the cave."
At least it was Timber that blurred out everything they knew so far.
"His name is Danyal." Baby Bird added and the four of them waited for Alfred's reaction.
"I see. I will go prepare one of the rooms then and inform Master Bruce to return sooner from his meeting with the Justice League then. As well as prepare for a family dinner as soon as possible, I assume. Will my help be needed in finding young Master Danyal?"
"No worries Alfie, I think I have an idea on how to draw out the little shiiii-biter. You made cookies, right?" Jason at the last minute corrected his words because of the look and Dick couldn't help but snicker.
"I indeed did. If my help is not required then I will be on my way."
Giving them all one last look over, the Butler smiled before he turned to leave. Dick, Tim and Jason let out a sigh in relief once Alfred had left again to which Damien only eyed them strangely.
A little while later Jason went to get the cookies and came back with the plate and staring at a green post-it note. "Since when does Alfie stick green post-it notes with cryptic shit on plates?"
"What?" His brother only shrugged offering the note to him. Tim was looking over his shoulder at it and the two stared at the strange writing.
"I think Cass or Steph might be pulling a prank on us? These look just like random squiggles."
"Let's leave this for later and look for the little teethling." He passed the note to Tim, noticing the curiosity in his eyes. Oh boy, he probably should make sure his little brother gets some sleep instead of trying to encrypt whatever was written on that little note all night.
"Now everyone lets take a cookie, resist eating it and go hunt down our little teethling."
Damien narrowed his eyes on him. "I told you to stop calling Danyal that." The little baby bird still took a cookie though and marched away into the bat cave. They had separated wandering through the Bat Cave trying to cover as much ground as possible and by this point Dick was ready to call for Cass to join them, maybe even wake up Duke just so they would finally find the little kid.
That was until a familiar yowl of pain resounded in the Cave. The direction made Dicks stomach sink once he remembered just what was in the Cave in this direction. "Jason!"
Once he arrived there he feared for the worst. Jason avoided the area, because B had placed their Lazarus Pit there and his brother had often said that it was one of the reasons he didn't like coming to the Cave that much anymore let alone into this area of the Cave. To hear his brothers shout of pain from that area couldn't mean anything good.
Well that was until he got to the scene. Dick didn't know how long he stood there frozen but at some point he knew he took out his phone to take some photos of what was happening. Tim was already laughing and Dick was pretty sure that Babs was most likely recording this with one of the many cameras B had in the Cave.
Jason lay with his back on the ground, with one hand his brother was still holding the cookie waving it desperately before Danny's face who was biting down on the other arm sitting on the downed vigilante's chest. Little hands gripping onto the arm in an attempt to make sure no one was taking his chewtoy away from him. Meanwhile Damien was trying to lift the little biter off Jason by holding him with his hands under the kids armpits.
"You little shit! FUCK! Come on, here is the cookie! Take the fucking cookie! OUCH FUCKING HELL! How is he resisting Alfies cookies!"
"Danyal, No! You do not know where Todd was or how dirty he is. Let go of his arm this instant. We do not want you to get sick!"
"Hey!"
This was gold, Dick decided, and would go straight to the black mail as well as family memories folder.
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angelltheninth · 1 year
Note
Hornily asking for Geto Suguru using sex pollen on his crush and banging her brains out
Hornily ask and hornily you shall get Anon.
Pairing: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, dub-com, sex pollen, rough sex, creampie, name-calling, cum as cure, breeding kink, degradation, crying, mindbreak
A/N: I wrote this very late at night. I think I'm a lot more productive then.
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You tried your best to resist it, the burning sensation coiling at the pit of your stomach, threatening to consume you alive. From the moment he kissed you, from the moment you entered his apartment you felt dizzy with need. Not how you usually wanted him, the slow, escalating feeling, but rather the raging passion crashing into you out of nowhere.
"Feeling it already? You must have really wanted me?" Geto had whispered in your ear, his lips sending a jolt right to your throbbing clit. You didn't know what was happening exactly but you needed it to stop. Your body knew what you wanted but your mind resisted, trying to come up with an explanation as to why you wanted him so suddenly, so fiercely, "Just a little something to spice things up for our first time. It's supposed to make us feel better." He explained as he carried you past the hallway.
Not even past the living room and clothes already hit the floor, your body hot all over even before he got his hands and lips all over it. "Geto." You whined, humping his leg to get some, any relief, "Geto I... I don't know why I'm... it's driving me insane..."
"It's okay baby. I'm here. I'll take care of you, promise." His smile was not nearly as comforting as his words. It only sank in later that he wasn't effected at all, he was way too in control of himself, his thrusts deep but calculated, unlike your frantic spasms around his cock, unlike your hand moving fast between your legs.
"Geto! Geto!" But it was too late, he felt too good, his cock was the only thing that helped, "Please! Harder! Deeperdeeperdeeper!" You could barely talk anymore, mind consumed by lustful fog.
His hands stilled your hips, pushing them over the edge of the couch, one leg on the armrest as he mounted you, "So warm and tight. You can't even think anymore can you? That's alright, you don't need to, you never need to think again. You're my woman now. Let me take care of you, let me cherish and fuck and breed you like you need, like you deserve. Fuck, you have no idea how long I wanted you to be my cumtoy, now you are. Aren't you?" His hips snapped forward when you failed to reply, the force nudging words back onto your brain.
"Yes. Cum. Toy. Yours. Please. Fuck me. Love you. Geto." You could only manage a few words at a time in your state, body arching, pussy quivering, gushing all over him, getting that thick, hot load that only helped for a little while before you were back on his dick.
Better then any toy or lover he's ever had, or that he will ever have for that matter. He doesn't need anyone else now. And neither do you.
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cocteaucherry · 4 months
Text
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First time Christmas Pt 2
warnings!inexperienced!choso, fem reader, nipple play, drunk (tipsy) sex, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it up), bodily fluids, bit of body worship (not proofread srry again 😔) loss of virginity
word count: 1.8k words
“Oh God..” Choso let out a pathetic whimper as his head lolled back to bump rather loudly on the headboard, the fading pain eventually subsided as he felt your jean-clad ass rock gently on his strained hard-on.
You felt Choso’s large calloused hands run up the fat of your ass giving it a harsh squeeze that resulted in you letting out a yelp also making the raven-haired man below you drunkenly smile, your hands then began to undo the buttons on his shirt.
Choso’s heartbeat began to increase significantly as he gently grasped your wrist, “W-wait! I have to tell you something.” You immediately retracted your hand feeling a pit in your stomach, oh God I went too far before you could push out an apology Choso spoke. “Im. Not experienced, heh..” he mumbled quietly, his thumb tracing circles into your thigh.
You smiled leaning down to place a chaste kiss on his lips, “Cho.. You know that doesn't matter to me,” you said softly, taking the suffocating feeling out of the air, “I know, I know it's just- this is our first time together, and I... really just wanna make you feel good.” You could tell he was heavily embarrassed by the situation and it made your heart twinge. All he wanted to do was make his first time pleasurable for you.
Choso closed his eyes as the oh-so-familiar feeling of tears threatened to make an appearance, he ruined the moment like he usually did, when will he ever learn to just shut up?-
His deprecating train of thought was derailed by a pair of plush lips smashing against his, “I don't think you understand how many times I have to restrain myself from begging you to fuck the shit outta me.” your words accompanied by your hand lightly gripping his raging hard-on through his pants, “y/n..~” Choso whined out bucking his hips desperately for friction. “Fuck.. just fuck me please.” He blushed out, releasing his hand from your wrist.
You hummed happily resuming your action of undoing the buttons on his shirt, his pink erect nipples immediately making themselves known when the fabric fell from his tone chest. You began to adjust your position sliding down between his legs, his hands struggling to find a patch of your skin to attach to. “You’re killing me baby~” he whispered to himself as he felt your hands unzip his pants and start to pull them down
You were immediately awestruck at the sight of the bulging tent in his boxers, was he always this big? Of course, you felt the print through your various make outs but this was different, your very expressive shocked look didn’t go unseen by Choso immediately felt a sense of.. pride. Was it pride? He pondered before letting out a straight pathetic whine as he felt your tongue glide over his clothed cock.
Your saliva staining the previously made wet spot from his strained weeping cock as your hand slid the waistband down. His cock slapped his abdomen resulting in a small grunt from Choso, his pink-reddish tip weeping with a bead of precum emitting from the slit. One of your hands wrapped around the base while the other toyed with his slit, Choso was a red whining mess watching your finger dip into his slit, watching you pull it away slowly as the string of precum followed your finger, “you never told me you had such a pretty dick Choso.” You giggled, kitten licking his tip before placing a small kiss on it. “Y-you never asked..” The smirk on his lips soon replaced his whines and moans as you took his tip into your warm wet mouth.
You wrapped your pink muscle and the tip of his cock immediately savoring the slightly salty flavor of the precum coating the tip of your tongue, your hand wrapped around the base of his cock as you began to slide your mouth up and down the extensive shaft of his cock. Choso writhed as a hand immediately found home into your scalp gripping not so hard for you to find painful, “Fuck fuck fuck! Please just like that.~” he whined as he began to slowly piston his hips into your mouth causing you to sputter and slob saliva across your working knuckles.
You swiped your tongue over a certain vein causing an electric sensation to hit his body and making him release one of the loudest whines you heard from him, your hands reaching down to massage his taut balls. Without warning he pushed your head down to a halt as ropes of white cum coated your tongue, throughout his orgasm were moans and out-of-breath apologies, “ I'm sorry didn't mean to cum oh fuck..” he whined as you pulled off his now softening dick,
“Choso, please! That was so fucking hot.” you gleamed with a smile feeling a hand caress your cheek as he stared at you lovingly, “Can I.. Can I try eating you out?” he asked so innocently you felt your heart almost tear in two, “Please Choso..” You said as you pulled your soft pink sweater off revealing a lacy white bra underneath, if Choso could he would blow another load from just the sight of your plush tits being constricted by such delicate fabric the whole scene was straight erotic to him.
Choose sat up pushing the rest of his shirt off as he hungrily eyed you wrapping his arms around your waist, his face immediately buried into the crevice of your tits basking in the sweet smell and softness of the mounds of flesh, his hands gripped the waistband of your pants trying his hardest to pull them off which made you laugh, “Cho! Let me take them off first!” you laughed gripping his head and his lips began to pepper wet kisses on the tops of your breasts. “I just wanna. Worship..” kiss. “And touch every inch of your body..” he gazes up at you with a drunk look, you weren't entirely sure if it was the alcohol or if he was getting drunk off of your essence.
His words brought a blush to your face, “Oh yeah?” you taunted playfully, he nodded, finishing the act of peeling your pants off which revealed a pair of black panties, they were nothing special to you but to him, he was jealous of the fabric that got to hide and hug around your sweet cunt all day. “oh yeah..” he said preoccupied as his hands wrapped around to your back to unclasp the delicate lace.
As your breasts fell from the bra you felt the immediate attack of your nipples, letting out a mewl as Choso’stongue went to assault the poor pebbled peaks. A groan erupted deep within his throat as his tongue focused on one nipple and his hands slid down beneath the waistband of your panties. This was described as unknown territory for Choso never coming close to being with or touching a woman, just follow what they do in the videos he thought to himself.
His hand worked to find the bundle of nerves when he was sure he found it he began to rotate tight slow circles around the nub gauging your face for a positive reaction, seeing your face contort and small whimpers leave your pretty lips guaranteed for him he was doing something right. He smirked to himself as he slid a finger down your slit to tease at your soaked hole, curious he slid a finger in continuing his actions on your clit, the feeling of your walls sucking and clamping around his finger made his softening cock harden almost immediately.
Slipping another finger inside his pace quickened along with the thumb on your clit, as he started to curl his fingers upwards to that sensitive spongy spot a moan erupted from your lips, “Cho, I'm gonna cum,” you whined out feeling your toes curl and your legs shake. “Cum for me baby.” he whimpered out, his whimper caused you to gush around his fingers, arousal slowly seeping down his knuckles as the movements on your bundle of nerves ceased.
“Did I do good?” Choso innocently questioned as he lovingly gazed into your eyes, “Were not done yet, Cho.” you pant quietly as he sat up slowly, you ushered yourself onto his lap, not forgetting to discard the soaked panties beforehand, you mewled at the feeling of his hardened cock slipping beneath your soaked folds, Choso groaned as he felt the wet friction of your folds against his sensitive dick. Your hand reached down between your pelvises as you lightly gripped the base of his weeping cock sliding the fat tip through your folds before ultimately sliding it inside, you both moaned in tandem when you finally bottomed out.
Poor Choso was barely keeping it together when you bottomed out, a hot whimpering mess as his hand gripped the plush fatness of your waist, “Fuck fuck.. Please move please..” he whined pathetically as your hands found a home on his chest, with a strained moan you began to rise up and down on his thick cock. “Agh, fuck you're so big,” you mewled quietly as you continued your grinding motion, your head lolled forward to rest your forehead against his. Choso’s eyes were squeezed shut, he was trying his best not to cum right then and there the combination of your cunt squeezing him, your moans and your scent was too much for him to handle. “Shit, please I don't wanna cum yet..” he moaned out to you, “Wanna make you cum first..” he said his hand gripping the fat of your ass.
Your hips began to grind at a faster pace, and hearing him say his only goal was to pleasure you made you even more ambitious to make him cum. “cho, touch my clit please,” you grunted out as Choso hurriedly moved his hand to rub tight circles on your pulsing clit, “fuck fuck fuck!” you exclaimed as you hands slipped accidentally brushing along choso’s erect nipples, a pang of electricity shot through his body as he let out a guttural moan, of course this didn't go unnoticed by you so your finger pinched his pink nipples. “That feel good Cho?” you teased through your moan.
“ ‘m-mhm please!” he whined rather loudly as he began to piston his hips into your own movements, the movement of his cock dragging deliciously against your walls and the calloused hand rubbing your clit was too much for you to handle. “shit cho, I'm gonna cum,” you said beginning to twist his nipples lightly, “m-me to-” he was cut off by a certain clench of your walls as his thrusts became sloppy and your cum gushed around him, strings of white hot cum painted your walls as your grinding came to a halt.
Choso panted falling onto his back and you collapsed on his chest, his cock twitched slowly slipping out of your aching cunt, dribbles of his cum seeping on his softening dick. “Will you answer my question now?” Choso chuckled out of breath, you peered up at his blissed fucked out face with a weak smile.
“I love you Choso.”
a/n: (this was my first time writing a cc smut I hope I did good, thank you sm for all the love on pt. 1 ill try to put out stuff quicker <3
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princessbiteme0o0 · 1 month
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Um this is like my first time asking but I have an idea which I really like so here I am asking!
So basically Ted is in theatre school with you and he your in the same class and you were paired up to do a scene of Romeo and Juliet. And there was a kissing scene you had to do.
In the evening Ted and you do into the theatre empty to practice the scene and you were really scared to do the kiss and he helps you out and then it slowly from a kiss gets more passionate and deep then… you two ended up doing the dirty in the theatre.
but during sex, he becomes more dominant and degrading like “imagine you took me like this infront of the class next week? You would look like a total whore.”
AHHH I HOPE ITS OK! and if you do it then I will give more ideas defo 💗
I adore you (and everyone that asks), having said that- this is BY FAR my favorite one 😭 Shakespeare is one of my favorite writers, along with Poe.
Thank you, Nonny and thank all of you that enjoy my writing!! It genuinely makes me SO HAPPY to see people enjoying and appreciating my writing.
Mainly for my home girl- @writingduhh 🩵🩵🩵
Having said all of that…
FIRST OF ALL- I don’t think Ted has a kinky bone in his body; I think he’s a cute lil vanilla baby, but fuck it we ball. MINORS DNI. I FEEL LIKE IT SHOULD BE OBVIOUS AT THIS POINT.
Warnings: smut, slight bullying, degradation, praise, sexual tension, arguments, (kinda enemies to lovers), slapping (not abusive- purely sexual), choking, spit kink, spanking?, fingering, p in v, creampie, breeding kink, unspoken daddy kink?, melodramatics, ‘pup’ and ‘puppy’ used (don’t judge me) but no pet play, As always, let me know if I need to add more 🩵
Shakespeare in Love (Teddy Nivison x Reader)
—🩵—🩵—
She thought she was far over having to work with him on this play. She thought it would be a simple one and done; that maybe he’d have a simple two or three liner part. However, the moment she read the names next to each character, she felt her heart drop to her stomach. There it had been, in big, bold letters:
Tybalt- Kyle Jean
Capulet- Chris River
Juliet- (Y/N Y/L/N)
Romeo- Ted Nivison
She still remembers the anger that she felt at him for even auditioning, the rage directed at the casting director, the dread she felt at knowledge of the script; but like any good actress, she played it off.
So now, she sat on stage, reading over the script while waiting for mister always late. Had it have been better (and easier) circumstances, she probably wouldn’t have noticed the door to the auditorium swinging open. Her eyes lifted and met his gaze, smirk and all. She felt a heated anger drop to the pit of her stomach, but that smirk caused a different kind of warmth to drop between her thighs. Rolling her eyes where she knew he could see, she stood to her feet while looking over the script once more.
She was a tall woman, she knew that, but he was so much taller. His shadow lingered over her and when she looked up at him, he wore a goofy grin, eyes boring into her. “You ready, Pumpkin?” He asked in a mocking tone that made her eye twitch for a moment.
“Don’t fucking call me that.” She grumbled softly, glaring up at him. He reached his hand out and his fingertips ghosted over her bare shoulder and down her collarbone.
“Why not?” He pouted lightly, fingertips brushing up her neck now. “I know it feels good.” He whispered the second part, winking at her and she raised her hand to slap him, before the director scolded her.
“(Y/N)! Let’s save our emotions for the audience, hmm?” He shouted over the talking students in the room. Everyone went quiet and turned their eyes to her, making a warm blush flood her cheeks.
“You’re so cute when you blush for me.” Ted teases softly, pinching her arm.
Today is going to be a long ass day…
—🩵—🩵—
She watched on with fake love in her eyes as Ted read off his lines like a beautiful poem, especially for her. He took her hand in his as he continued, voice warm and welcoming, as if it were a soft pillow for her to lie back on-
“If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” The words weren’t his, but the look in his eyes and the way he said it so clearly to her made her body grow warm. My character, it’s just his character speaking to mine.
“Good Pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do not touch, and hand to hand is holy palmers kiss.” She spoke skeptically, eyes watching his every move. As he moved his body closer to hers, she had to fight the urge to step back. She could practically feel the magnetic urgency trying to pull them together, but she denied it, craving the comfortability in safety. His hand carefully raised to her jaw, cupping it with a gentle palm.
“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” His voice was softer, careful almost, as if he was afraid of her pulling away. Taking in a sharp breath, she paused a moment, seemingly forgetting her lines- though she was quick to steady herself.
“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.” She placed a careful hand on his chest in an attempt to push him away, but he slipped an arm around her waist, fingertips resting in the small of her back. She knew it was coming, yet the more he touched her, the harder it was to keep up the boundaries she held.
“O then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do. They pray: grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” His words were a deep rumbling whisper as his other hand slid up the side of her body. His fingertips gently massaged a path up her shoulder, her collarbone, just to rest carefully on her jawline. His thumb carefully ran over the apple of her cheeks as she struggled to find her line once more.
“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers’ sake.” Her mouth ran dry as he leaned forwards ever-so-slightly. She felt heat strike through her body and liquid heat pool in between her legs.
“Then move not while my prayer’s effect I take.” His voice is deep rumble that vibrates her to her very core. When he leant down and pressed his lips carefully to hers, her world suddenly burst into vibrant colors, warmth immersing the room in the fireworks that flew between them. Both parties had a difficult time pulling apart, but she managed to pull away, only to realize she had a firm grip on his hair. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Ted struggled to get his line out without stuttering, “Th-Thus from my lips, by then, my sin is purged.”
His eyes didn’t leave hers for even the slightest millisecond of time and his grip around her just tightened; until the director and everyone else in the class clapped. “That was absolutely stunning.” The director calls out. Almost instantly upon realization that they weren’t alone, they quickly tore apart from each other- she was blushing madly, while Ted just wore a look of confusion.
—🩵—🩵—
It was a few hours after practice and most of the staff went home, while she sat on the stage, silently going over her lines. She was reading through every detail, looking for every emotion. Lying back, she laid the script over her face, mind still flying from the previous events of the day. Suddenly, she heard the sound of footsteps and a soft shift of air around her as whoever it was sat beside her.
“Ted…” She grumbles, without even moving the script from her face. She knew it was him- of course she did, she hates him. His scent filled her nostrils and tempted to distract her.
“(Y/N)…” His voice is gentle; hearing him say her name like that was a surprise. Reaching up, he gently pulls the script away from her face. When her pretty eyes meet his, he smiles softly and just watches her for a moment. “Can we talk?”
“Hmph.” She lets out a soft puff of air and crosses her arms.
“(Y/N).” His voice is still gentle, but this time it takes on a warning tone. She looks back up at him through her lashes and sighs. Rolling her eyes, she moved to sit. “Now that you’re situated… Why do you hate me?”
“Can we just go over our lines, please?” Her eyes are silently pleading, but he just slowly nods with a soft sigh of succession.
“Where do you wanna start-“ He’s quickly cut off as she basically launches at him, crashing their lips together in a heated kiss. His mind is telling him to pull away, but everything else is telling him to pull her closer. His hands grip her hips, tight enough to leave bruises and he helps her climb into his lap. Pulling away, he looks up at her with a small smirk, “If you wanted me that bad you just needed to tell me.” He teased gently.
“If you want me at all, you’ll shut the fuck up.” She growls lowly. Raising a brow at her, he reaches behind her and places a firm slap on her rear.
“You better check your attitude with me, Sweetheart.” A squeak left her lips when he spanked her and she jumped, making her grind forward against him. Ted bit back a groan and closed his eyes. “Princess…”
The warmth in his voice and the tempting softness in his eyes made her melt right there in his lap. She was careful and hesitant with each movement she made. Exploring the new territory was terrifying, but it felt so… Right. Her lips traced along his neck, kissing and sucking every exposed inch of skin she could reach. Her canines would occasionally scrape over a patch of skin and her tongue would dart out to soothe it.
“You feel so good… Being such a good girl for me.” Ted mumbled, eyes closed and simply enjoying her sweet touches.
“You taste so good, Teddy.” She mumbles against his skin, tongue flicking out over his pulse point. “Makes me angry how good you feel.” Letting out a deep, breathy chuckle, he pries her away from him and lays her back on the stage.
“I know, Honey, I know…” He coos, pulling her shorts down her legs. His eyes settled on the wet patch on her panties, light hitting it and making it glisten in the most tantalizing way. His mouth watered at the sight. “Why don’t you let me make you feel good? Hmm? I bet you taste as beautiful as you look.” A high pitched whine leaves her lips and she grabs for him to try and pull him close again, but he denies her, instead moving his hands down her thighs and massaging the skin there. His thumbs kneaded her flesh, making her relax for him.
“There ya go, babes… That feel good?” He hums, hands creeping just slightly higher. A soft moan of relief leaves her lips.
“Yessss…” She hisses out softly, eyes fluttering shut.
“You seem to be carrying quite a bit of tension here…” He says smoothly as his hands move to the inside of her thighs and slowly creep higher. “But I think most of your tension is held here.” His fingertips brushing against the wet spot on her panties made her body jolt and a mewl sound around them, the sound bouncing off of the walls.
“Ted.” She whimpers, making him chuckle.
“Oh yeah, you’ve got so much tension… Right here.” As he finished his sentence, he gently pressed his thumb to her clit, making her back arch away from the stage and up towards him.
“Teddy!” She cries out in a lewd beg, hips moving against his hand in a desperate attempt to gain more friction. His thumb just continued to move in slow circles around her throbbing bud, making her cunt clench around nothing.
“What’s wrong, Hon? Hmm?” He teased, watching as her wetness continued to soak through her panties until she was dripping on the stage floor.
“I- I can’t- ‘S too much!” She cries out, nails digging into the skin of his forearm that she held onto for dear life. The confidence in his eyes flared and changed to a much darker expression, pupils blown wide with lust.
“Aww, does it feel too good, Pumpkin? Can’t handle feeling so good?” He mocked her in the most condescending way, but it made a whimper leave her lips as her eyes flashed open and met his. “You’re going to lay there and take it like the filthy slut you are.” He growls lowly, free hand slapping the outside of her thigh hard enough to leave a hand print, but her squeal morphed with a lewd moan of desperation.
“Yes Teddy… I- I can take- take it.” She stuttered out, legs shaking. His degrading hit her body like a truck, making her head go fuzzy. Ted nearly lost it when he saw the pure submissive state that she had slipped into, her eyes staring up at him innocently.
“Look at you, Princess…” He mumbles, pushing her panties aside and slipping his middle finger into her. Her breath caught in her throat and her lips parted in a silent moan. Her eyes locked on his as he curled his finger upwards to hit her most sensitive spot. “So fucking pretty.”
“Ted-“ She tries to speak, but he quickly shushes her. He slipped his ring finger into her as well and placed his free hand on her abdomen, very gently adding pressure. The feeling intensified for her and she cried out a sob, body shaking.
“You know I won’t let anyone else touch you now.” He mumbles, working his fingers faster and harder. “You’re mine now. Mine to degrade, mine to praise, mine to fuck… Mine to protect.” As the words continued to fall from his lips, her chest swelled with a new, overwhelming, uncertain emotion. Her cunt tightened, just as her chest did when she realized what emotion he was evoking in her.
“Ted I-“ He’s quick to cut her off.
“No, Shhh… Trust me, (Y/N)… Let me make you feel good, then you’re free to go back to hating me.” He speaks softly, eyes watching her face, rather than her body.
“No, Ted I want you.” She whimpers softly, her voice so soft and so weak. She sounded so innocent. “Please.” A warm smile broke out across his lips and he nodded, pulling his fingers from her and popping them in his mouth. A low groan rumbled through him, and he closed his eyes to savor her taste. When he pulled his finger free from his mouth.
“So fucking sweet.” He growls, literally ripping her panties from her body. “Because of course, the world’s biggest brat has to have the sweetest little pussy I’ve ever tasted.” He unbuckled his belt and yanked it off, folding it in half. Ted used the folded leather as a riding crop, slapping the outside of her thigh. “Spread ‘em, Cupcake.”
A smirk crossed her lips at the opportunity so clearly in front of her. Shaking her head, she huffed out one simple word, “No.” Ted grabbed her ankles and yanked her towards him. Giggling wildly, she wrapped her legs around his waist.
“Mmh, maybe I just won’t let you cum…” She whined at the idea, pouting and smacking his arm, making him use his free hand to hold hers down. “Maybe I’ll just stuff you with my cum and plug you up. Let you throb around a silly toy instead of me.”
“Teddy!” She basically begs, tears of frustration welling up in the corners of her eyes. He let out a warm, hearty laugh at her response and slowly dragged the belt across her abdomen, using it to brush her shirt slightly upwards.
“Aww, poor Pup wants me to breed her?” He asks, raising a brow as his free hand carefully massages her hip. She quickly nodded her head and her hands made a little grabby motion for him, a high pitched whine leaving her lips.
“You’re so precious, Honey.” He hums, undoing the button on his slacks and pushing them down -along with his boxers- just enough for his cock to spring free. Biting her lip, she watched as precum dripped from the tip and fell onto her thigh. Her eyes slowly went up his body to settle on his, boring into his soul.
“I wanna taste you, Theo.” She fluttered her lashes at him in the prettiest, most sweet and innocent way she could.
“As tempting as that sounds, I don’t think you deserve that treat today, Puppy.” He hums, gripping her legs and placing them over his shoulders and leaning so close to her that his lips brushed against hers and he whispered, “You only get what I chose to give you.”
The second that he finished his sentence, he buried himself to the hilt. A cry tore from her throat as her back tried to arch, but couldn’t as he pressed further forward, basically bending her in half. Her hands flew to his back and her nails bit into the fabric, nearly tearing the threads apart piece by piece.
“I’m gonna fill you up until your pretty little body can’t hold anymore.” He growls lowly, biting her lower lip. His words made her cunt tighten around him in an attempt to draw him in even closer. Drawing his hips back slowly, she drew in a sharp gasp when his hips lurched forwards, burying himself inside of her once more.
“Teddddyyy nnngh!” She chokes out, body trembling beneath his and he chuckles darkly, mouth attaching to her.
“What’s wrong, Cupcake? Can you not take it?” He mocked, cooing in her ear as he quickened his pace, fucking into her harshly and caging her in with his arms beside her head. She wildly shook her head, grappling for him with her nails nearly shredding the fabric of his shirt.
“P-please- ta- Ahh~ take it off.” She stutters out, gripping over little moans and whines. Ted found it impossible to resist her pleas when they sounded just so pretty. He kept his eyes on her face as he felt her nails dragging down his back.
“That feel better, Hon?” He mumbles and she buried her face in his neck.
“Yessss…” She hissed, teeth biting into the skin of his neck. “Oh God, Theo…”
“If I’d have known that you’d stop being such a fucking brat, I would’ve fucked you sooner.” He growls, sharply slapping the outside of her thigh as he changed the angle of his hips, making her let out a shaky sob. Tears fell down her cheeks as her vision clouded. Ted smirked as he hummed, watching the way her body morphed and changed position with every thrust.
The way he filled her so full, made her mind fuzzy and her thoughts fade away. Her cunt tightened around him as she threatened to fall over the edge, “Please Ted!”
“I dunno, Pumpkin. Do you think you deserve it?” He asks, halting in his movements, making her so frustrated she nearly screamed.
“Please, please, please, I’ll be so good, I swear. I’ll be so so so good for you Theo, please.” She begged and pleaded, tears streaming down her cheeks.
“Gimme a kiss then, cutie.” Before his sentence was even complete, she launched herself forward, capturing his lips on hers. While she was distracted, he slipped his hand between the two of them, thumb massaging quick circles on her pretty little bud, picking his thrusts back up. His ministrations, made her let out a squeak against his lips as the band in her belly stretches so tightly that it could break at any second.
“Go ahead, Honey. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up. How’s that sound? Want me to fill you up? Get you all round with my babies?” His words were all that she needed, her world exploding into stars and butterflies as her orgasm hits her like a comet hits the earth, shattering her every nerve. Ted watched as her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ and her eyebrows pinched together. He held eye contact with her the entire time, reminding her to breathe as she rides off the effects. “There ya go, there it is. You alright, Sweetie?”
Her breathing began to steady as overstimulation kicked in, “‘M good, Teddy… I wan’ it.” She mumbles as he helped her move her legs from his shoulders to around his waist. His thumbs gently massaged her hips as he slowly picked his thrusts back up.
“I know, honey… Shh, it’s okay, I’ve got ya.” He speaks calmly, watching her as she starts to come back to attention. “There ya are… Welcome back to reality, Sweetheart.” He chuckles softly, giving her a goofy smile. A giggle punctuated by a soft moan leaves her lips and she smiles up at him, her own hands gripping his biceps and rolling her thumbs over his skin.
A soft groan leaves him and he lets his head fall to her chest as he struggles to hold it together. “My God, you’re so fucking tight. Gonna squeeze the life outta me.” He grumbles, placing gentle kisses over her chest as he lazily rolls his hips against hers. Her fingers gently card through his hair as she mumbles her own praises to him.
“You feel so good, Ted. Ya’ make me feel s’ good.” She hums, locking her legs around his waist as he starts to lose his pace. Lifting his head with the little energy he has left he gives her a questioning look.
“You sure you don’t-“ But she was quick to cut him off.
“Cum for me.” She whispers in his ear, placing a careful, open mouthed kiss on his neck. Right when she spoke, her pussy clamped down on him, making his eyes roll back in his head as his hips stutter and he bottoms out inside of her.
“Mmh, fuck…” He growls, filling her to the brim. “So good for me… Takin’ it so fuckin’ well.” His head falls to her chest and he mumbles something into her shirt. Whatever he said made him blush, the tips of his ears going red. She gently cups his jawline and lifts his head to look at her.
“What did you say, Theo?” She asks gently, thumb running across his lip. He paused and just stared at her for a moment, silence floating between them.
“I can’t believe you never realized how in love with you I am.”
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dellalyra · 7 months
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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗼𝗮𝗱 𝘁𝗼 𝗛𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴 - ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ ꜰᴏʀᴍᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ
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pixie says: i am healing and yes - i have written family formations. this is my fix it fic - canon be damned. family formations is happiness only. this fic is what i would like to see as the ending of the final battle of jjk. cw: angsty at the start, but also sweet, bittersweet stuff, canon typical gore, creative liberties and lots of spoilers if you’re not okay w that go away and mdni bc I said so.
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“I won’t ask you not to go.”
“Good. I wouldn’t listen to you anyway.”
“Yaknow, when we were 16 I thought your stubbornness would ease off with age.”
“You’re the one who married me.”
“Best choice I ever made.”
You can’t help but smile at the man laying on the bed beside where you stood. Black and blue bruises fading to green on his usually unmarred skin evidence of the toll the fight took on his body - which he barely escaped with his life. The deep laceration on his stomach only stemmed by the work of your best friend who had cried into your arms several days prior saying she had been terrified she couldn’t save him for you, for the kids.
Yet, she did.
She saved him, and your son.
Your son who spent most of his time asleep, body recovering from weeks of torture and mind melding itself back together with love and care.
Your husband’s cursed energy was burnt out. The usual bottomless pit was drained to bring him back to you and extract your son from his own body. He was injured, his eyes were okay, all six of them and he’s alive and he’s safe and he’s okay.
Then the announcement came.
You all knew it would come.
The final challenge.
Kenjaku’s challenge.
There was no dissuading Yuuji, not ever but especially now he knows the truth of his parentage. Choso too, pain and suffering bottled for 150 years is a powerful motivator. Yuuta - he was going to protect everyone, no matter who he had to face. Inumaki? Was not leaving Yuuta to face this without him. Maki’s rage fuelled a fire within her, the loss of so many people making her ready to ‘bitch slap’ him, as she so delicately put.
To top it all off.
You.
Like hell were you letting these kids go alone. Were you scared? Infinitely. Only a fool would say they weren’t. You knew the risks, a widower, a baby without a mother, weddings you’d never see.
They were risks you had to take.
For Megumi. For Yuuji. Two boys who deserve a love filled future.
For Tsumiki. Your daughter snatched from your hands.
For Nanami. A brother in arms, a best friend, a mentor and a godfather.
For Akio - to grow up safe.
For your ‘Toru. He deserved to not fight anymore. He deserved peace - you both did. He deserved the life you spoke about at night in bed curled in his arms.
For Geto. For the man who was your brother in all but blood. For one half of a whole. For a future ripped apart by trauma and a body desecrated.
Satoru knew you’d go. He held you tight as his wounds would allow and protested his attendance but you and Shoko pointed out to him that his current condition would make him someone to be protected - not vice versa.
He grit his teeth and cursed.
He believed in you. Your strength and courage and immense abilities.
But that didn’t make him any less scared.
He wondered if this was how you felt.
Megumi has been sleeping for going on 24 hours now. You don’t wake him. Neither does Yuuji.
Satoru looks at you.
You sit on the bed beside him.
“Satoru. We both know this might now work in our favour. We both know I might not -” you start, breath shaky but determined.
“Absolutely not. Don’t you dare say it, Princess.” He says, grasping your cheek.
“Satoru. Listen to me. If I don’t come back, I want to go with the knowledge you’ve heard all of this. If I die, take Megumi - go find Akio, bring Shoko and the students. Leave Japan. No more fighting, I want you to live. I want you to see our sons first day of school, Megumi’s graduation, all of it. I want your world filled with love and happiness even if I lose I don’t want to be avenged. Fuck vengeance, just live. Live for our boys, make a shrine for ‘Miki, and Suguru, and Nanamin.” You say, tears flowing.
“Y/N, please - please don’t talk -” Satoru says, head buried in your neck.
“I have to. It’s important to me. You deserve to live, ‘toru. You deserve love, and happiness.”
“How can I have those if you’re not there?” He says.
“Because we have two beautiful boys who adore their daddy very much, and I’d never be gone completely. You - Gojo Satoru - have been the light of my life, the blood in my veins and the air in my lungs since we were 16. I am so, so grateful to have had you in this life, and I know you love me the same.” You say, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“I’ve loved you since the moment you got mad at me for picking a daisy a ladybug sat on. I can’t imagine an existence without you, and it runs so deep that I think my soul has merged with yours. You have always, always, been everything to me - and every day I’ve loved you more. My, sweet, brave girl.” He chokes.
All you can do is let out a watery laugh as you kiss him, soft and gentle.
“You made me promise to come home. I need you to do the same, princess.” He says, and you stick out a pinky finger which he takes in his own.
“Pinky promise.” You say, because you’re going to do everything to come home to your boys.
You stand, and yelp as a large hand smacks the globe of your asscheek.
“Go kick some cursed booty, Princess.” He says, smiling.
“Aye, aye, captain.” You blow him as kiss and he catches it, pretending to eat it.
The door softly closes behind you.
Seeing Kenjaku again was jarring. Satoru was right, your eyes saw Geto - but your soul knew otherwise. An oppressive power circled him as he teased and taunted before Choso lunged and the battle begun.
Curses swarmed like locusts all around, and you all moved in perfect formation - you fought back a comment that the mornings they grumbled at training were worthwhile after all.
Inumaki brought up the rear, a layer of protection casting an eye over the battlefield.
Maki - wasn’t the Maki you saw the last time you witness her in action. She’s lethal, a hurricane of destruction and terrifying rage as she brutally slaughters all in her path, and you swell with pride.
Yuuji and Yuuta - seamless in tandem with each other as strong fists flung them toward Yuuta’s swinging blade as they cleared a path to the centre.
Choso was engaged directly with Kenjaku - screams of rage and fury built of years of trauma swirled through the air along with shards of pure crimson as father and son clashed.
You were everyone’s back up, flashes of green pulsing around as soon as anyone became too close for your comfort to any of the others, protection second nature in your subconscious as you ripped through enemies with dagger and claws, ripping limb from limb to exorcise the curses and the raw grief in your body.
Out of the corner of your eye, a lethal looking serpentine curse lunged toward Yuuji - currently wrestling another monstrosity and you knew he hadn’t noticed it - you wouldn’t get there in time. Just as you shouted his name as it was inches from his head a whizzing rushed past your ear and toward the curse, which you saw crumble in a heap beside a gaping Itadori.
You move to run to him, but you don’t get far before a voice sounds from behind you.
“Looks like I still need to do everything around here, eh, Itadori?”
That voice.
You both spin on your heels, and behind you, hammer in hand - stood Nobara Kugisaki.
You blinked.
Presumed dead, as Shoko had refused to speak of it - she had done it.
Shoko had healed her too, and black leather eyepatch covered one side of her face but she was smirking, a hand on her hip.
“No fucking way! ‘Bara!” Yuuji says, barrelling toward her - his honorary twin sister.
He scoops her up and she thrashes.
“Put me down you oaf! I nearly died, don’t kill me again!” She shouted.
“You’re really here, Nobara?” You say, tears flooding your eyes.
“As fabulous as ever, Y/N-sensei.” She winked and threw herself into your arms.
“Eh - as much as I love this vibe guys could I have some help please, Itadori?” Comes the voice of Yuuta, snapping you all out of it as Yuuji drops his best friend and runs away to him calling ‘sorry, senpai!’.
Nobara runs to your left - to provide back up for Maki as the frenzy resumes.
Hours pass, but before you can comprehend how many - all that’s left is a smirking Kenjaku surrounded by 7 warriors.
You stride forward, dropping your blades and stopping right in front of him.
“What are you doing?!” Shouts Maki.
The clatter of the daggers is sharp against the silence. Kenjaku’s blank face looks down at you.
“I know you’re in there Nii-chan. I know you can hear me. I’m sorry we couldn’t save you, but we love you. All of us. ‘Toru and I had a baby, you’d love him. I’m also sorry for what I’m about to do.” You say.
In the blink of an eye, you whirl back your fist and drive it straight into his nose. The curse reels as he stumbles - unexpected force from your smaller body fueled by rage.
The momentary distraction works as you begin to pull out your trump card - hoping to weaken him before he can use his.
You hear Inumaki shout ‘shield your eyes’ to all the kids as your body begins to emit a strong, golden light - searing everything in its path as a screech echoes from Kenjaku - the tarmac beneath you bubbling from the energy emitted as you shout: “Cursed Technique - forbidden technique - sunbeam.”
As the screeching ends, and the light fades it’s visible effect is clear as patches of skin have melted from the body leaving bone exposed and the top of the head protecting the brain of Kenjaku is exposed - with you panting on your knees as Kenjaku attempts to regain himself. The fury on his face alerts Yuuji who grabs Choso who immediately understands, running toward you to scoop you up and away. Yuuji barrels toward and everyone begins to scream as you see Kenjaku’s hand making the sign required.
Uzumaki.
You all brace for impact but the shockwave and death of Yuuji never came. When your eyes all open, a black dome is covering the area both men were. It’s solid surface impenetrable - no matter who you were. Just as you think to summon your domain to override you look - that’s not a domain with traces of Kenjaku.
Those traces…
Yuuji Itadori.
“Stop! Stop! No domains!” You shout to the kids.
“What?!” Maki responds.
“It’s not Kenjaku’s. This domain - its Yuuji’s. This is Yuuji’s domain! He did it!” You say, beaming - pride and astonishment mixed with exhaustion.
“She’s right. This is my brothers energy.” Choso agrees.
“Holy shit, it is.” Nobara chimes in.
“We can only wait.” Yuuta says, anxiously leaning on his sword.
This battle was between the two in the domain now, having no idea what Yuuji’s domain would be left you all blind.
You were gently sat on the ground, a characteristic you learned was intrinsic to Choso by now - someone who you have grown to count as a very special friend over the last few months.
You wait.
And wait.
And wait.
Nobara curled up beside you, as Maki filled her in on all she’d missed. You didn’t miss the whimper when she was told of Megumi’s imprisonment.
And after 20 minutes, Inumaki’s soft voice jolts you all.
“Look.”
The domain was fading, melting from above.
It lowered like melting ice and the dust within cleared until a backlit figure stood beside a crumpled lump on the ground. The figure was heaving air into their lungs.
The body walked forward.
“YUUJI!” Came 7 voices.
The lump. Kenjaku. Corpse mangled and bloody and a grizzly mass of brain matter was coating the ground as slowly disintegrating into dust.
He did it.
He killed Kenjaku.
“Little brother, you did it! Are you hurt?” Choso grasped his exhausted younger brother and Yuuji shook his head and you saw a weak smile on his bloodied face.
“Y/N?” Itadori rasps.
“Yes, sweet boy?” You smile, hand on his cheek and tears on your face.
“Can we go home now?” He says.
You huff out laughing.
“Let’s go home, sweetheart.”
Yuuta on one side and Choso on the other, helping the exhausted boy - they all began to walk away.
“Are you coming?” Nobara asks, as you crouch down beside the corpse.
You whip out your phone, clicking a contact and pressing the share location button.
“You guys go ahead. I’ll be there soon. Yuuta, help patch up Yuuji.”
They all exchange looks but go ahead anyway.
You sit down. Looking at the body, and fix the top part of the head so it sits where it should.
Before long, you hear footsteps behind you and someone sits beside you.
“He’d go crazy if he saw his hair that messy.” Shoko huffed.
“He’d probably blame Satoru.” You respond and she smirks, lighting a cigarette.
“You hurt?” She asks.
“No. Just… tired.” You say, leaning your head on the shoulder of your best friend.
“Me too.” She leans to close his eyes.
“He would have been so proud of all of us, Koko. He always said you’d look hot in a lab coat.”
“He would have had Akio hanging from him 24/7 too, kids always loved him for some reason.” She mentions and you both laugh. Her head rests on yours.
There’s silence for a few minutes.
“He looks peaceful, doesn’t he? Like how he used to look when he’d sleep on my lap under the tree.” Shoko says, voice thick.
“We can pretend for a moment that he is just asleep.” You say.
“I’m glad Satoru isn’t here.” You confess and she nods.
“Koko?” You whisper.
“Yeah?” She says, squishing her cigarette out.
“We can take him home now. Do it right.” You say, tears forming again.
“Somewhere close, so I can sit and have a smoke with him sometimes.” She agrees.
You stand, holding your hand out - the remnants of your cursed energy forming a floating box of vines around the body, neither of you could carry him so you’d create a way to transport him home.
You turn your hand to her, the vines levitating behind you.
She grabs your hand.
“Let’s go see your husband.” She says, wiping her face as you walk hand in hand back to base.
Walking toward healing, and a safe future.
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suppose-i-was-worm · 7 months
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Itty Bitty Living Space
**same continuity as For Lack of a Burger!**
Danny could curse Clockwork. Really, truly, and horribly.
Well, not now, of course. Now Danny had to acclimate to a baby’s body. He had to stuff all his bits and bobs and corners and knobs into a squishy human form again.
A rich squishy human form, at least. He blinked his eyes up at the luxurious green drapes that covered his crib.
“-looking at, Mother?”
“You have a new baby brother, habibi.”
“A brother? Was grandfather not satisfied with me?”
Danny strained to look over at the voices, but he couldn’t move his head much.
“No, Damian, you are to be the heir to the Demon, and your brother is to be heir to the Bat.”
“I see.”
A woman leaned over Danny- very pretty, with long brown hair and piercing eyes. She was holding a boy in her arms, who looked down at Danny with a serious look.
“He is very small, Mother.”
“You were small too.”
Danny felt sleep creep up on his new mortal form, and he yawned, allowing himself to drift off.
~~~
By the time his mortal body was one, Danny had a lay of the land. Rich family? Check. Luxurious surroundings? Check. Absolute fruitloop of a grandfather? Check check.
Ra’s al Ghul was so… Wacko. Absolutely off his rocker. Also somehow undead, which would mean he was one of Danny’s in the long run.
Danny’s problems to solve, that is. Stupid Clockwork, he knew exactly what he was doing when he sent Danny here. He wanted this crazy bastard done away with, and Danny wanting a burger had been a perfect excuse to send him out on an errand.
Ugh.
He’d learned pretty fast that expressing himself was frowned upon. He personally hadn’t been beaten, but he had seen his flesh-brother take punishments on his behalf.
His four-year-old brother.
A child.
It made rage boil up in Danny’s bones, rage that often sent his fragile body into a feverish state.
His grandfather hated that he was “weak”. Both Talia and Damian defended him.
Danny started to stomp down the bubbling pop pop pop of lava-like rage no matter what. He didn’t care much for Talia- she was just as bad as Ra’s if she let the abuse continue- but Damian had never done anything to deserve their ire.
He had to be better. He had to work harder to assimilate into this form and be the best at everything put before him so that Damian would not be hurt on his behalf again.
~~~
By age six, Danny had figured out how to disconnect, in a way, from flesh-Danny. He could put his body on autopilot and work on poking and prodding himself into any nook or cranny that he could fit.
Somehow he knew that he would be cut off from his complete range of powers until soul and body merged. He couldn’t take Damian away from this place until he was back to full strength.
With a sigh, soul-Danny sat back and surveyed the work he’d gotten done. Half of his being was still spilling stubbornly out of the space left in flesh-Danny. He’d figured out the trick to it, though, so it would probably take him less time on the rest than it had on the first half.
“Daniel.”
Danny snapped back into place, looking slowly at his flesh-brother as he came into the training room.
“Akhi.”
“You are still training? It is late.”
Glancing at the window, Danny noticed that yes, it was dark outside.
“I see. Thank you, Akhi. An appropriate amount of rest will make sure my physical form is at optimal performance.”
Damian smirked proudly at him, placing a warm hand on his shoulder and leading Danny to his chambers.
Danny stayed connected when Damian was around. His flesh-brother deserved nothing less.
~~~
His fever lasted two weeks after Damian was sent to Gotham. Tapping into his powers prematurely to ensure that his brother made it out safe was too much for his physical form to handle yet.
It gave him an idea, though. The Lazarus pits were ectoplasm. Nasty, rotting ectoplasm, but ecto was ecto. A slow siphoning and filtering of the pits would assist in getting him completely snapped together.
His time line had moved up. Once Damian had left, there was no-one around to stand in the way of Ra’s and Danny as far as punishments. Talia would barely even look at him anymore- she had thought he had taken over his flesh-brother’s place in the League somewhere around year four.
Sometimes Danny felt like Clockwork was somewhere laughing at him.
Danny would be laughing at himself if he wasn’t the sucker in this situation.
And he still didn’t have a burger.
~~~
The night before his tenth year, Danny felt a snap as the final pieces of his enormous interdimensional soul fit into the body he’d been placed in. With a crow of delight, he let his other form wash over him.
Danny shot through the ceilings up up up to the clear sky above the base, laughing soundlessly as he got closer and closer to the stars above. He was free. He could go see Damian, and then he could go home!
His flight stuttered to a stop.
He didn’t really want to go back to the Infinite Realms, did he?
Crossing his legs under him, Danny thought very hard about what “home” meant to him.
Jazz’s face flashed across his mind, and then Sam’s and Tucker’s.
With a mounting sadness, he drifted back down to his bed in Nanda Parbat. There was no going home, not anymore. His family and friends as Danny Fenton had long since passed, even beyond his reach as Ghost King.
But Damian- Damian could be home. He could go to Damian, and maybe then he’d finally get what he really wanted.
~~~
“And sho-‘ Danny licked ketchup off his finger. “Dat’s how I came’ere.”
Damian was watching him devour burger number three with a horrified curiosity, as were his other (new!) siblings.
“You- you did not ask any questions of your mentor?”
Danny swallowed his bite of burger and then took a swig of BatCola.
“Nah, why would I?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Tim Drake’s voice was faint and a little shocked.
Taking another bite of his burger, Danny shrugged.
“I jus’ really wanned a burger.”
Damian blinked at him a few times before burying his face in his hands.
“I cannot believe Grandfather thought you the superior heir.”
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gojoidyll · 7 months
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Infinity
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Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader
Part 4 | my life
Warnings | death , gojo starts to get a bit delusional , yandere gojo , gojo being salty about y/n's new life , mentions of su!c!de by poison , murder , grammatical errors , etc.
Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^
Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.
Infinity Masterlist
year 1120 AD
GOJO SHIRO, at the somewhat middle age of 30, couldn't believe his eyes. His six eyes, dulled a bit due to age, seemed to ignite with a sort of happiness as he looked down at a newborn that his dear daughter wanted him to meet. (As he got older, he was practically forced to marry someone from the clan elders despite him being the lord of the land and head of the clan now. He honestly didn't want to as he saw it as him betraying y/n, but alas, life must go on for the Gojo clan.)
"Her name is Y/n Gojo, isn't she cute?"
Life sure was cruel. Here he was still not dead from his second life and here y/n was already in her third, her second reincarnation. A sort of dark pit settled within him. A seed of pure rage entangled him and took root.
"She is cute," he muttered, but she wasn't supposed to start her second life without me. And she's a Gojo no less, so even if I reincarnated we wouldn't be able to be married together, we would be related to each other for God's sake!
He had to right the wrong.
So, he made a quick decision. A just decision.
"However, she's been cursed."
His daughter paled, "w- what?! Cursed?! But father-"
He held up his hand as y/n laid gently in his arms, "you know the rules as much as I do. That husband must of done something to you during childbirth, or when she was being conceived. You know better than anyone else that the Gojo clan has enemies lurking in the shadows."
"Minako would never hurt her! He loves our little girl!"
"And how can you be sure? You nor anyone else has the six eyes, you nor anyone else can see what I see, and this child is cursed. She'll bring the Gojo clan to ruin if she exists a second longer."
"But father-"
"Enough! If you do not have the will to end this cursed child's life, then I will take it upon myself."
"You can't father! You can't! There must be another way! We can save her!"
His daughter was in hysterics. All she wanted was for her father to finally meet her baby little girl. If she knew this was going to happen, then she would of run away with y/n and Minako in tow.
Urumei was summoned a moment later and had grabbed a tight hold of Gojo's daughter.
"Take her outside while I handle this."
"Of course, my lord."
His daughter could only kick and scream in Urumei's grip. Her wails being heard outside the door and down the hall as Gojo was left with y/n. His six eyes now focused onto the small baby in his arms.
"You're quite cruel for doing this to me, but don't worry y/n, my precious little y/n. I know you didn't have control over where you were born and who you were born too. But you must understand .. if I die and am reincarnated and you're not there, then how will I live? You're my world. And I'm your moon. You said so yourself. We made a deal. Its only fair that we be reincarnated at the same time so that we're together."
He activated hollow purple. And, for a moment, he was glad that she was still asleep. He doesn't think he would be able to go through with it if she were awake, and just as he was about to go through with it. She had opened her eyes. They were a brilliant, bright (color) and his breath faltered. Looking up at him, she smiled and giggled and held out her chubby, small hands up to him. Her fingers making grabbing motions.
He deactivated hollow purple and decided to just come up with the excuse to raise her himself and to "make sure she wasn't cursed anymore and didn't hurt anyone within the clan."
His daughter, when she was brought back in, could only weep and smile at the good news, grateful to her father for not killing her baby. Granted, since y/n was still "cursed" as she and everyone else within the clan were told to believe, then it meant she wouldn't be able to take care of her daughter and instead her father would look after her instead. But she was still happy nonetheless.
And that was how life went for the next fourteen years.
"Father, father, father!"
Now at the age of 44, Shiro could be found carrying y/n around on his back as she would point at the different food stalls, wanting to try all the different kinds of sweets they had.
Now, Shiro was, in fact, her grandfather of course, but he decided to blur the lines a bit on that since he was still young and because his daughter and her husband had passed away tragically in a cursed spirit attack when y/n was only two years old. Many found it odd how he didn't seem phased over their deaths but reckoned that he just needed to focus on caring for his newly made daughter instead.
And y/n simply didn't need to know. Besides, as he said, he was still relatively young so what was the harm in posing as her father figure instead? (Not to mention that he erased anything and everything related to his previous daughter and wife. Hell, he couldn't even remember their names!)
"You want to try that next?"
"Yes, please!"
Much to Shiro's delight, despite living under his doting care she still turned out the same as in her first two lives. Cute, shy, and super adorable. However, she was a bit chubby but that was only because he absolutely refused to see her in a sickly state as she was seen previously in her other lives. And it was nice seeing her so happy. He doesn't remember ever being so happy before with her first two families. Granted, in her second life her mother there was nice but y/n didn't have a father and her mother was always working. Not to mention those bullies were- he seethed a little, that's right. To y/n, this was the only life she lived, but to Gojo he was still in the life where those damn brats killed her.
He tried to clear his mind and focus on y/n instead.
The day went on and soon night fell which meant their usual routine. Y/n would wash up and immediately get dressed in her night clothes and come into his room. He would already be in bed and would pat the spot next to him as she would happily clamber in next to him.
But just before she would fall asleep, he would tap her on the nose.
"Forgetting something?"
She giggled a little as she turned towards him and lifted her head forward. Her lips gently pressing against his cheek as she gave him a tiny goodnight kiss.
"Goodnight, father! I love you!"
He kissed her forehead in return, and hugged her close, "goodnight my sweet angel."
And as she would fall into a deep sleep, he would find himself in discomfort. This was not the life he wanted with her. Not at all.
So he would find himself reaching into the cupboard next to his nightstand. His eyes glinting into the dark when he would find a dark vile. In it was a heavy poison. He knew what he had to do.
Uncorking the lid, he parted y/n's lips and let the liquid slip down her throat.
Now, this wasn't a rash decision, he's actually been thinking of this for quite some time. He couldn't wait any longer to die and to get reincarnated with y/n. He didn't want to be her father figure or even a father to her. He wanted to be her husband. But life was cruel.
It wasn't fair.
not fair
not fair
not fair
not fair
Thats what he always told himself, and he finally went through with it, and making sure that her heart stopped and she was truly dead. He, too, took a swig from the bottle and then promptly tossed the vile out the open window for someone to find while on patrol.
It wasn't fair. He deserved to have y/n as a wife, not a daughter, or as a granddaughter. It only made sense to finally start anew. Besides, she lived a decent life. A decent childhood. He could have killed her as a baby. Oh, he really could have. But he didn't. He let her live.
So, by doing that, he deserves to take that life away too and start again.
He knew they would be reincarnated together this time. Because they didn't end up together. This wasn't their happy ending.
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Infinity taglist | @whore-for-hawks @esthelily @huicitawrites @flaming-vulpix
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keirawantstocry · 3 months
Note
It’s me again. I’m crawling out of the depths of hell to request poly morning crew angst (if you want) to cure my eternal writers block and because I love your writing and also feel pain
- Fitpacbo
oh beloved fitpacbo welcome back from the pits of hell <3 
I take angst very Seriously so buckle up babe 
“Nooooooo,” Pac howled. “No, no, no, I. It can't be.” Tears blurred his vision to the point he could only see colors as he fell to his knees. In front of him was his daughter. Dead. “Sunny, hey, no, you're fine.” 
From beside him Tubbo whipped out two swords. “Who fucking did this?? I'm going to fucking kill then. Nobody,”-he choked on a sob- “can touch my fucking daughter.” 
Pac gathered up Sunny's body in his arms, rocking her back and forth as Fit took Tubbo by the arms. “It's okay. It's okay. She'll be up soon. She has two lives.” 
“Not any more!” Tubbo screamed back. “She has one! One fucking life!” 
Pac let the tears roll as he rocked Sunny back and forth. Finally à violent gasp clawed it's way out of her throat. 
Tubbo and Fit both dropped their weapons and fell to their knees next to Pac. 
“Poppet. Sunny. Darling. I'm right here.” 
Pac eased his arms against Tubbo's to let Sunny rest between the two of them. Their eyes fluttered as she let out a few weak coughs. 
“Pai?” she signed, before sitting up, grabbing Tubbo's shirt and burying their face against his neck. 
“You're safe now,” Fit said, the only one of them who wasn't crying, as he reached out and stroked Sunny's back. 
Pac couldn't stop the onslaught of tears that continued down his face. “Oh, amorzinho, it's okay, we've got you.” 
“I'm going to fucking kill them,” Tubbo repeated again and again. “My baby, my beautiful daughter.” 
She sobbed into his shoulder while their little body shook. 
“We're going to kill them,” Fit corrected and Pac saw the rage simmering under the surface, both in his eyes and his body. “Nobody fucking hurts our daughter and gets away with it.”
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thatthirdtriplet · 2 months
Text
Relationships:
Tim Drake & Dick Grayson Tim Drake & Jason Todd Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne Tim Drake & Damian Wayne Tim Drake & Barbara Gordon Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne Jason Todd & Damian Wayne Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Dick Grayson & Koriand'r Roy Harper/Jason Todd Dick Grayson/Wally West Dick Grayson & Damian Wayne Cassandra Cain & Tim Drake Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne Cassandra Cain & Bruce Wayne Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent Bart Allen & Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent & Cassie Sandmark Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Characters:
Tim Drake Dick Grayson Jason Todd Bruce Wayne Damian Wayne Alfred Pennyworth Barbara Gordon Roy Harper Koriand'r (DCU) Wally West Cassandra Cain Stephanie Brown Kon-El | Conner Kent Prudence Wood Bart Allen Cassie Sandsmark Ra's al Ghul
Additional Tags:
Age Regression/De-Aging fluff hood Sibling Dick Grayson protective Dick Grayson good Sibling Jason Todd family Fluff family Feels family Dynamics Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent kid Tim Drake baby Tim Drake past Relationship(s) Past Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson Protective Jason Todd Implied/Referenced Child Neglect Past Dick Grayson/Koriand'r Past Jason Todd/Koriand'r Past Rape/Non-con Trauma Past Sexual Assault Hurt/Comfort Crying Panic Attacks Dissociation Whump Self-Harm vomiting self-Induced Vomiting joker Junior StuffPast Stephanie Brown/Tim Drake Lazarus Pit Madness (DCU) No Pit Rage episode though Bruce Wayne is Tim Drake's Biological Parent Attempted Sexual Assault Non-Consensual Touching minor Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent De-Aged Tim Drake accidental Baby Acquisition
Summary:
His comm crackles to life. “RR’s suit is in a pile on the floor,” Jason says, voice grim. “But no sign of him. Something bad must’ve happened if he ditched it all.”
“I wouldn’t say it’s bad, per se,” Dick replies, gazing down at the kid nestled against his chest. Now that he’s looking properly, he can see hints of his little brother in those small features. “But at least I can confidently say that he’s not dead.”
Or:
Tim gets de-aged to four. Dick takes care of him.
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leviathanspain · 1 year
Text
you’ll learn to hate me
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aemond targaryen x targaryen!reader, aegon targaryen x targaryen!reader
chapter seven: the traitor
synopsis: it was a fight you didn’t know you had lost
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
your screams roared as the guards took you away. your dragon wailed as you did, keepers risking their lives as they stopped vermithor from tearing the pit in half, you kicked and trashed against the guards as you looked at aemond.
you had been convinced that he had come to save you, save you from everyone else, but the moment you saw the guards, you realized what a grave mistake you had made.
aemond didn’t say anything as he looked at the ground, your screams dying out the farther they dragged you.
your room had been made into a cell. the door replaced with bars, everything stripped bare except for a bed, not even books to entertain you.
you were past being angry, the rage had subsided as you realized yelling wouldn’t help your escape.
but the anger towards aemond had boiled over into something else. you had trusted him, trusted him enough to take you and your baby away to someplace safe.
the red keep with aegon as king was anything but safe, especially since you were considered a traitor to the crown, how he probably reveled in the news of your capture and return.
you heard footsteps approach your cell and you moved towards the door.
aegon was standing there, a crown perched on his head, he held out a single book to you.
for a moment, you hesitated, until he waved the book around, you took it.
“this was the book you were reading before you left. i figured you would want to finish it.” he murmured, looking down at his feet.
you set the book on the bed and you moved to the cell door, “i assume you know everything?” aegon nodded, “and am i right to assume the baby isn’t mine?”
you shrugged, “could be yours. could be his. at this point, i would want it to be yours.” you sighed, moving a hand over your belly, you were getting closer to the end.
aegon shook his head, “aemond hasn’t said a word to any of us since you’ve been back. i think he’s just being a brat because mother forced him to bring you back, but i think he’s also ashamed.” aegon spoke truths ever so rarely, but this was something that had you listening. “i understand him. he, like i, is in love with you. but only one of us had the guts to do what was right.”
aegon looked at you, “once you birth my heir, you will be free until i stuff you full of my heirs again. there was once hope that you and i would rule together, but it seems like that just isn’t in our favor anymore, wife.” aegon’s voice was dripping with quiet rage. that act he had fronted with the book made a cold feeling shudder down your back.
as he exited, you stared at the book, and slammed it against the wall, the spine coming undone as pages fell to the ground.
your screams echoed through the keep. aegon had been the first to be alerted. you were laboring, and had been for hours. aegon looked at the crib with a dragon egg already placed in the baby’s stead. soon, his heir would lie with his dragon, and soon, you would come to regret your decision of trusting his brother.
your voice rattled off the walls and back to your own ears. you were writhing on the bed in pain, a nurse was wiping your brow with a rag as another checked you. “i see the head.” she opened the cell door and ushered in a maester.
you screamed as the labor intensified, “i cant.” you cried, “i cant do this.” you sobbed. you were alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to encourage you.
as the maester urged you to push, you could feel the screams rip through you effortlessly, “aemond!” you screamed, “aemond, please!” you sobbed, screaming for his support, the ma ester urged you again to push.
aemond had heard your cries from all the way down in the library. he had tortured himself for the weeks since he had retrieved you, not able to see you. he wished how he could see you, apologize for his betrayal, explain himself at the very least. but even as he heard his name being screamed from your lips, he hoped that in that time you had found it in yourself to forgive him.
your head fell back into the pillows. you felt the blood gushing down your legs as your eyes wavered to close. the nurse above you was calling your name, shaking you as you struggled to stay awake. the baby’s cries sounded muffled as you shut your eyes, hoping that death would be a mercy upon your suffering.
the nursemaid held the baby in her arms, as she was ushered into aegons chambers. sat with him where his brother and mother. aegon had heard you scream his brothers name, but had refused to acknowledge it, especially with alicent in the room.
“it’s a boy.” the maid announced, “a healthy boy.” she presented the child to the greens. he was sleeping soundly, and aegon admired the babe for a moment until he looked at the maid, “how’s my wife?”
the nursemaid faltered, and aegon nearly shoved her and the baby out of his way as he practically ran to see you.
as he approached the room, the somber feeling overwhelmed him and he saw the group of maesters around you.
“your grace.” they greeted him, and aegon was speechless. your face was pale, lips discolored as he looked at you. your gown was drenched in blood, and more towels on the floor soaking up the rest of the blood, you were unconscious.
“she is resting. we have hope that she will pull through the night, but..” he trailed off, “i would suggest saying your farewells.”
aemond had refused to even look at the child. the nursemaid had explained your condition and it had made him sick to know that your killer was peacefully sleeping in alicent’s arms. alicent was too busy cooing at the baby to even care about you. hardly did she ever, but this wasnt just about you.
“what should we name him?” alicent pondered, “otto?” she toyed with the name and aemond broke the silence, “stop acting like this is your child. she isn’t dead, yet. have the fucking decency to wait until she is.” aemond had snapped, watching as his mother glared at him, “and he’s yours?” she raised her eyebrows as aemond stayed silent, “this child will have the honor to never know his traitorous mother.” she caressed the baby’s cheek and the baby began to cry.
alicent looked at the baby and suddenly she had no idea what to do. she yelled for a nurse, a maid, anyone, to take the screaming child.
aemond watched as she handed the baby off and shook his head, “you’re pathetic. y/n isn’t rhaenyra, but you like to act as if she is. killing her, won’t kill rhaenyra.”
alicent was close to smacking her son. she stood up from her seat and with a tight lipped expression, she inhaled, “you have no idea what you speak of. remember what i had said, don’t make me tell you again.” she threatened, and aemond quieted as she left.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
<< previous chapter <<
>> next chapter >>
a/n: trust me this child is NOT named otto, i would petrify before he was.
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concussed-to-pieces · 8 months
Text
Wolves At The Door; Part One
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Fandom: Resident Evil [Village]
Pairing: Eventual Karl Heisenberg/AFAB!Reader
Rating: Holy shit M.
Summary: "Highness? That's a little much, just lord will do."
A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our first installment! Enjoy!
Tag List: @cookiethewriter @amneris21 @topgirl17 @vodkafolie @a-smol-witch @baby-lisuga @clockworkmidnight @calwitch @silver-quinn01 @velvet-paradox @mrs-wolfwood @mic-sunderland @somethingthatsaysbubbles @fullofmoonsandstars @stargazerofgoldenwords
Prelude
[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of blood, canon-typical violence and extreme depictions of mental and physical duress. Stay safe!]
Rain hammering what was once his face, the boom of thunder and the grinding shriek of metal. Karl Heisenberg looked up at the plummeting form of a man, dead man Ethan Winters, silhouetted in stark relief by the lightning shattering the sky, and he felt nothing except a fevered madness, the berserk desire to tear the world itself limb from limb. Within him the cadou throbbed and slavered for blood, more more more!
In his rage-fueled delirium Ethan was transformed from mere crumbling vessel to a vengeant angel, pulling the trigger and firing that last rocket directly into his internals. All the sacrifices, all the sleepless nights, failures, suffering, torment…
Yet Karl had to respect that level of dedication, that kind of drive. He certainly wouldn't have shown himself any mercy, had the roles been reversed. If he had been the man on borrowed time, struggling against all the beasts and bastards in the world to save his kid…well, Heisenberg could definitely understand Ethan's steely resolve, for all that it was about to bring his plans to ruin. 
I must…kill her…
"It's already done." A voice he knew. The Duke, that jumbo-sized, two-timing prick. 
Karl struggled to move, to stand, sort out what had happened, but something was wrong with his mind. It was as though his thoughts were…slippery, too difficult to grasp, and he was just so…
Tired. Gods, he couldn't ever remember being so tired. He felt mortal, fragile even. More details were racing past him, faster and faster as the weariness crushed him to dust, but Karl couldn't bring himself to care. He was too exhausted. Hell, he couldn't even muster up the strength to open his eyes while the rocking of the cart lulled him into a stupor.
I must kill her.
Who? Who was…
Consciousness slipped through his fingers once more, and for a time Karl simply slept dreamlessly. 
A warm, wet cloth was being rubbed back and forth across his bare upper arm. Karl licked his lips absently, flinching when he encountered dry, cracked skin. His lower abdomen was pounding.
"Shhh," someone, someone was there, a hand brushing over his brow soothingly. "You're safe. Sleep, Karl."
That tone, soft, too soft, too gentle. Karl hated it. "'Fuck 'way from me," he slurred, dragging his arm up in a pitiful attempt to shield himself from this new and insidious threat. When the hell had his limbs become so heavy?
"Don't move! Easy, easy. Give me your arm back, I still have to change that dressing." The person scolded, fingers wrapping around his wrist. Karl didn't even have the strength to struggle and soon relented, leaden arm going limp in this stranger's hold. 
"You gonna' kill me?" He asked, unsure why he felt so glib about the subject. 
There was a sharp intake of breath next to his head, followed by a long exhale. "No, of course not. That would be rude to the Duke. I promised to make sure you could recover physically. I guess you have some memory loss?"
"Huh." Karl's brow furrowed. Memory loss. Maybe that's why his brain seemed soft and bruised at the edges. But that couldn't be all there was. He was still himself, right? 
He couldn't tell. The details of his life to that point were full of static. It was like he was teetering on the edge of some dark pit, unsure if the lack of concrete memories was a blessing or a curse.
I must kill her.
Who?
Karl Heisenberg. Did that name even mean anything anymore? 
You were in for it, you could tell. Karl was as cantankerous as he could manage to be while he was still bodily incapacitated, the man only barely able to open his eyes after several days of recuperating.
His mouth worked just fine, unfortunately for you. 
"You making lunch soon, sugar? I want meat." 
You sighed heavily. "You want meat at every meal, Heisenberg." 
The nerves surrounding your mysterious houseguest and his lofty title had quickly worn off, replaced almost exclusively with annoyance. He was clearly an individual who was used to getting his way and while you hadn't wanted to be rude, you rapidly realized that he didn't care much whether you were or not. Honestly he didn't seem to care much about anything that came out of your mouth, appearing to talk just to hear himself prattle. Speaking of which…
"...potatoes, carrots, boar, I feel like I haven't had boar in ages, some black bread with oil and salt-"
You shoved the dishes you had been scrubbing back under the soapy water, turning to fix the man on the cot with a stern look. "Anything else I can get for you, your highness?" You snarked.
"Highness? That's a little much, just lord will do." He waved a limp hand dismissively, fingers twitching after a moment or two. Behind you, you heard the silverware settling belatedly in the water-filled basin. "Look, I don't want it all now, I'm just thinking of the future! I'm a big guy, not being able to eat like usual is killing me." Karl all but whined, his expression a bit pitiful for such a 'big guy'. 
You stifled your laugh, returning to the dishes. "Well, clarify that for me. When people say they want something, usually that implies a pretty immediate time frame."
"I do want it, I just can't have it now. Life is rotten sometimes."
"Yes yes, you're really fighting the cosmic battle."
"Don't patronize me, sugar."
Your laugh escaped that time, though you tried to mask it with a cough. Heisenberg muttered something you couldn't make out and when you dared to glance over your shoulder at him he had turned his head towards the wall. You pursed your lips, feeling a little guilty. He was bedridden and probably going crazy from boredom. That would definitely explain his talkative bouts whenever you were within earshot.
"I'll…I'll see what I can do about the boar. No promises, though." It had been slim pickings as of late; the strange excess of air traffic recently seemed to have had a negative effect on the local wildlife.
Another helicopter hummed distantly overhead and you briefly wondered if there was some sort of land survey going on, or if maybe it was a forest fire prevention drill, but soon enough more important thoughts took over and the query vanished from your mind.
The twitching was getting worse. It felt like something just beneath the skin of his abdomen was struggling to move him bodily, demanding him to propel himself onward with greater and greater urgency.
Which would have been fine, but Karl didn't even have so much as a crutch to hobble around with. Not that he would have used it, mind you, but the idea of it-
You were apparently hard at work doing something, leaving at sunrise and returning every day defeated in the twilight. There was still wood to be cut around the place, water to be boiled, general maintenance of your property. You always made sure to leave Karl food before you departed though, and you stoked the fire well. 
Heisenberg's only and eternal complaint was boredom. He was barely able to eat unaided, mainly motivated by spite and the grim realization that if this kept up he would be indebted; a fate worse than death or whatever the hell his gossamer memories were shielding him from recollecting. 
But Christ he was bored! He spent the days staring at the knots in the ceiling and willing himself to get stronger faster, damn it all, before he entirely lost his mind from cabin fever.
His loaned cot collapsed beneath him one such boring day after he made a sudden attempt to move his arms, dropping him on his side on the floor and knocking the wind out of him. From the little he could see the metal fasteners on one side of the canvas sling had just…all torn free of their moorings at once, clattering to the floor around his stunned form. 
His brow furrowed. Karl reached a tentative hand out, his index finger inches from one of the fasteners. The tiny object shuddered and then rocketed across the floor, scraping up a ribbon of wood in its wake. It finally halted when it met the edge of the cabinets, burying itself deep in the grain of the worn timber. 
–whirling twisted metal screaming death trap pouring rain and that man, that man–
Karl flinched, blinking. His hand was trembling when he attempted anew, and a second fastener made a half-hearted attempt to follow its kin, coming to a rolling stop midway through the kitchen. 
Well that's something.
The man paused. Then, with a superhuman effort, he heaved himself up onto his elbows. Gritting his teeth, Heisenberg crawled forward on his stomach until he was able to clearly see and confirm that yes, the fastener was lodged in the cabinetry. "Weird." Heisenberg muttered to himself. I didn't touch the fucking thing though, so how the hell-?
The door to the yard swung open and you came stumbling in, kicking your muddy boots off to rest beside the door on the porch. 
Karl froze. You froze. The fastener in the cabinet tore free, flying backwards to strike Karl in the shoulder. "Fuck!" He yelled, more surprised than actually hurt. Flapping a hand around on the floor he finally scooped up the little metal object, harboring some deluded fantasy about crushing the fucking thing flat in his fist.
"What the heck was that, and why are you on the floor?" You quizzed, sounding exhausted.
In reply, Heisenberg mutely gestured in the general direction of the collapsed cot. There was the sound of something clattering against the wall and you had an expression of fright on your face when he looked up at you. "Damn thing fell apart underneath me." He grumbled.
Your voice shook when you asked, "w…why did it just move?" 
You didn't care how tired you were, you knew what you had seen! Karl had waved his hand and the cot framework had chucked itself into the wall! The Duke hadn't mentioned anything about that! 
"I couldn't tell you." Karl's reply was as flippant as he usually seemed to be, but his eyes had an odd look to them. If you didn't know any better, you would say he was as rattled as you were by this strange development. "It feels…familiar, though."
"What does?" You demanded.
"The…I dunno', the feeling. I…" Karl had been in the process of opening his hand, but he abruptly trailed off. When you peeked over his fingers, you glimpsed a wrinkled piece of metal resting in his palm before he hurriedly clenched his fist again. "Back off, sugar. Cornered dogs bite." He warned, that strange look still in his gaze.
"Dog, huh? Right now you seem to be doing your best 'bear rug' impression, laying on the floor like that." You snorted, returning to the door to pick up what you had dropped beside your boots on the porch. "Since you're either not willing or not able to be clear with whatever is going on, we're going to discuss it with the Duke the next time he visits." You extended the sturdy branch you had found in your woodpile, its surface smoothed over the last few days as you waited in your hunting blinds to no avail. "I can tell you've been losing it, figured I'd make you something to help you move a little easier."
"I don't need-"
"I don't care." You cut him off, giving him a gentle tap on the shoulder with the walking stick. "I'm tired of moving you around and you need to start using your legs before you get blood clots or whatever the hell else."
Karl puffed out a breath, his eyes darting between your face and the staff you held. When next he spoke, however, it was in a tone of grudging admiration. "You shave this yourself? Delicate work. You must have a steady hand and be real bored to clean up something like that."
"If you'd rather not use-" 
Heisenberg wordlessly latched onto the stick, grimacing while pulling himself into a sitting position. He was panting by the time he made it to his feet, but still mustered up a cocky little smirk for you. "You'll have–to pad the base. Don't want to wake you when I start to roam late at night," he chuckled breathlessly.
You rolled your eyes, but resigned yourself to scrounging up some felt to protect your floors. Speaking of which… "Where did that scratch come from?!"
"One."
Thunk.
"Two."
Thunk.
"Three."
The last nail ricocheted off the tree trunk and Karl swore under his breath, hobbling forward. 
You, still observing from a safe distance on the porch, called, "everything okay?"
"Yeah, I s'pose." Karl answered glumly, rubbing the pad of his thumb over the head of the first nail. When he hauled his hand away to jerk it back out of the wood, however, he somehow managed to instead tear out a bolt from your recently-repaired fence line, sending several logs toppling to the ground.
"Aw, I just fixed that." You complained, venturing off the porch to retrieve the bolt from its place in the grass. "I'm gonna' need to drill a new hole because you sent the nut through the wood again! My fence is starting to look like Swiss cheese." Maybe you should stop was clearly what you were thinking and Heisenberg couldn't really see a reason to argue. All he was doing was causing more problems, more messes for someone else to clean up. 
Indebted. He gritted his teeth, heaving the first log back into place. You started to protest but he waved you off with a snarl, simply wrestling the remaining logs up on top of the first and then making a curt gesture. "Get your shit. I'll hold these." 
"They're heavy." You pointed out needlessly.
His arms had been shaking from the beginning. Karl jutted his chin arrogantly, raising an eyebrow. "And?"
You took off running, making a beeline for your lean-to where you stored most of your tools. As soon as you left Karl sagged a fair bit, trying to brace the weight of the fencing with his legs as opposed to his arms. Well, this may not have been my brightest move, he admitted to himself ruefully.
You were suddenly at his elbow, whirring drill ringing in his ear while the bit bored into the rain-softened wood. Karl absently watched the shavings spout from the bit, trying to ignore his arms trembling under the strain of the task at hand. 
–drill bit boring down, down, down, shards of bone flying, the twitching of muscles long dead–
The drill abruptly jerked to a stop in your grip, startling Heisenberg out of whatever reverie he had fallen into. "Shit, what the hell?" You grumbled, fidgeting with the trigger. "Must be a knot in the wood, hang on."
Karl exhaled roughly, glaring downwards at the stuck drill bit with all the malice he could muster. Don't make me look like a weakling here, shithead! The tool creaked and then, without warning, drove itself down through whatever had jammed it with an indignant shriek. 
You rushed to place the bolt in the newly made hole and even in his distracted state, Karl saw that your fingers were shaking. 
Once he was able to take a step back from the fence and catch his breath, he straightened up and tightened his hold on the walking stick you had given him. You continued to fiddle with the fence, obviously making a play for time, and Heisenberg finally issued a loud sigh. "I'm not…I know it seems like I could be dangerous but–well, you trust the Duke, don'tcha'?" he tried to rationalize. 
"Considering the fact that he hasn't come back since bringing you here, my trust is wearing a little thin." You retorted, still not looking at him.
Ouch. Karl shook it off, though. If he was in your shoes, the second some unwanted guest decided to poltergeist a cot into the wall would have been the same second they received a swift boot to the ass. "For what it's worth–hang on, let me finish–for what it's worth, I won't hurt you."
Your laugh had no humor in it. "Intentionally or accidentally? I live alone, Karl. An accident is just as bad as intentional for me."
"I…" Karl paused, unused to the level of resentment he felt at your accusation. Whatever he had been like before, he was clearly not a man that had been questioned often. "I don't know. Should I leave?"
You aimed the drill at him and Heisenberg got a terrible jolt of recollection that drowned out whatever you said next. Him but not him, and that man, pointing a handgun at him while protesting…something. "...take me out like the others and then you get to go and save Rose, right?" his voice had replied, sarcastic.
Rose. Rose. Powerful kid. Even Miranda's scared of her–
Karl grimaced, holding his head. Miranda. Rose. Ethan Winters. All these names, unattached to anything tangible. They seemed to exist exclusively to exasperate him.
"Hey, you feeling alright? You're pretty gray." He had to be imagining the concern in your tone. You didn't trust him, after all. "I guess that took a lot out of you. Let's get you back inside."
It was only once the two of you were halfway back to the porch that Karl realized he was leaning heavily on you, but you had accepted the burden without comment.
Indebted. Karl wanted to shove his head into a meat grinder. 
You knew you probably should have kicked him out. After all, he could walk now, right? Best to be on his way. You certainly weren't going to keep Heisenberg around out of some misguided loyalty towards the Duke. Truly, you didn't know either man. Hell, Karl didn't even know himself! Add to that the strangeness of his…powers, the solitude of your abode and you had a recipe for disaster.
You brought the maul down once more, sending the wedge home and splitting the log cleanly. Wiping the sweat from your brow, you reached down to scoop up the wedge. To your annoyance the thing skittered out from beneath your fingers, flying across the yard to Heisenberg's waiting hand.
"Let me take over." He offered, then hurried to add, "so you can have a break! You've been at this since ten."
"It needs to be done." You replied shortly.
"Yeah. So let me help." Karl tilted his head, the brim of his raggedy hat casting his eyes into shadow. "I can't exactly cook, I'm not good for much. Lemme' muscle something around for you, huh sugar?"
Your shoulders did hurt a little. "What time is it?"
He flicked his wrist, checking his watch. "Five after two."
"Shit." You grimaced. "Okay. But only so I can have a drink and a five minute break." You warned, aiming a finger at him with a squint.
Heisenberg bowed theatrically, sidestepping you on your way to the porch. "Naturally." With a solid thud the wedge slammed itself halfway through the next log. 
An early summer storm had brought down the rest of the winter-damaged trees and you had been doing your best to stay on top of the unexpected bounty, but the task was proving a bit more monumental than you had anticipated. Even after you'd sawed the fallen trees to manageable size, it was slow going.
Once you'd gone inside and poured yourself a tall glass of water from the gravity-fed sink, you headed back out to sit on the front steps. Sipping the water, you idly watched your begrudged guest tear his way through the amassed pile of pre-portioned logs. He had no real finesse, but you guessed if you knew you could split a log in any place you chose you probably wouldn't waste time with a technique. Karl used both the maul and the wedge on different logs at the same time, effectively doubling your results with apparent ease.
You grumbled to yourself a little, laying back on the porch and throwing an arm over your eyes to block the sunlight. Showoff.
You must have been exhausted, because the next time he glanced at the porch he realized you had fallen asleep. Karl caught himself smiling and quickly jerked the maul down into the next log. He needed this, he decided. The physical labor was doing wonders for his brain, keeping everything nice and quiet. No nasty flashes of what-was when he was focusing on some menial task. He'd have to try and take on more of this stuff. Maybe you'd let him help to fill the jugs at the river, for washing and drinking and–
-and what was that noise. Heisenberg straightened up, his eyes immediately drawn to the shadow of the trees at the edge of your property line. It was so strange the way sunlight only made the woods seem darker, intensifying the shadows until they were inky black. Karl stared hard, willing his eyes to adjust to the shade, but he only caught the faintest glimpse of…something. It was more like an impression of movement, eyeshine and hair but not…not right, not animal-shaped. 
Karl hesitated, his grip tightening to a chokehold on the maul. The wedge rocketed over the fenceline, vanishing into the bushes. The yelp in response set his teeth on edge. Again, the wrongness, too bass for a lynx and too high for a bear. 
Karl stormed forward, his walking stick forgotten on the ground as he brandished your old maul with an intent so gleefully malevolent that it confused him. Man, I must have been a bad person. He shoved it to the side for the moment, scouring the underbrush for the wedge. 
It had traveled further than he expected but it simply laid forlornly on the forest floor. However it seemed to have met its mark regardless, as the chisel tip of it was stained black with some kind of ichor. 
Heisenberg gingerly picked the wedge up, rubbing his thumb across the liquid. In hindsight, probably a bad idea. The fluid was still warm and stank of iron and decay, like…blood left out in the sun too long…
--buckets of congealed, blackened liquid, splatters of it on the concrete beneath his feet and all around him the reek of rusty death. But this was home, as much as if he had built it himself–
Karl shuddered, nearly dropping the wedge. He felt like the wind had been crushed out of him by some giant hand. 
He had left you alone. Asleep. Vulnerable.
Heisenberg whirled, met with a wall of trees and no clear view of the cabin. "You stupid fuck!" He cursed at himself, tearing off in what he thought was the right direction.
"Hey!"
The sharp bark woke you from your unwitting doze and you jolted up, startled. You rubbed your eyes, groaning, "what, what is it?" 
Heisenberg was standing in front of the stairs in a strange, hunched position. It took you a moment to realize that he still had the maul, and that woke you up. He looked furious, he looked dangerous, his chest heaving and his hat missing. Without even thinking about it you clawed yourself backwards to get out of range, your legs nearly refusing to cooperate.
"K-Karl?" The tremor in your voice seemed to have some kind of effect on him, his posture and fierce expression softening slightly as he blinked down at you. 
"I…you're okay." He said finally. His knees gave way, the man nearly sagging to the ground before he managed to prop himself up with the maul. "You been asleep the whole time? Didn't see anything?" He questioned you, his tone rough.
You shook your head, baffled and still wary. Karl sighed, but it sounded more like relief than annoyance. "What's going on? You uh…you look upset." You commented, giving up on any subtlety. 
"There was something in the woods." His gaze hardened once more and he fidgeted with the maul. "Didn't get a good look at it, but it…somethin' about it wasn't animal, y'know?"
"Oh." You tapped your mouth. "The Duke mentioned things called Lycans, he put up some charms to ward them off. That's why I don't go out past the fence at night. Never seen any close to the property, though. That's weird."
Karl pressed, "You've seen them? What do they look like?"
"It's always been dark out so I couldn't say exactly." You bit your lip, trying to recall. "Whatever I saw had really patchy fur or hair, like it had mange. I thought it was a big lynx, honestly. The Duke didn't want to tell me what they were, he just put out the charms and said that would tell them to stay away."
Karl swore under his breath. "Always at night?"
"Yeah, I've never gotten a good look at them. Not sure if I believe they even exist but," you shrugged, "I don't really have a reason to go groping around in the woods after dark anyways. What with the bears, wolves, lynx…I mean, it's not exactly like an inconvenience for me to park my ass at night."
"Well whatever I saw, it was watchin' me. And I don't know for how long."
Part Two
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claymoresword · 1 year
Text
We're Burned For Better
Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen
Summary: Rhaenyra finds out Aegon is really her son.
Wordcount: 1.5k
Warnings: angst, fluff, viserys targaryen
Note: i have nothing to say besides the fact that this was necessary. i just had to write this.
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“Rhaenyra– can you say Rhaenyra?”
“Rae..nuh.”
Little Aegon babbles as the Princess repeatedly bounced him on her lap.
Rhaenyra shrugs. An easy smile forms on her lips, one Alicent can be seen imitating.
“Close enough.”
A sudden jolt of the carriage and Aegon instinctively wrap his hand around Rhaenyra’s arm.
“Well isn’t this splendid.”
Viserys starts and Rhaenyra suppresses the urge to roll her eyes.
Two years passed and the resentment she felt for her father had only festered.
In truth, so much has happened since his betrothal to Alicent she’s forgotten exactly why she was angry.
“The whole of our family off to celebration and adventure in the Kingswood.”
Her father continues and Rhaenyra makes no effort to acknowledge him. Instead she holds up Aegon’s toy for him to grab, brushing strands of hair out of his face.
Viserys observes the interaction.
“You will be with your own child, sooner than late– and make me a proud grandsire.”
Rhaenyra doesn’t fight her incredulous expression. Although, she did have to stop herself from laughing in his face.
She opens her mouth to retaliate but is interrupted by Alicent.
“It’s not so bad, Aegon came quickly and without fuss.”
Alicent reassures and her airy tone only left Rhaenyra feeling unsettled.
Sharing a space with her father and his lady wife was always an uncomfortable affair. It never failed to make Rhaenyra feel suffocated.
An awkward silence surrounds the carriage and Viserys tries again.
“You should ride out with me today. Join in the chase.”
“I’d rather not.” The Princess was quick to answer.
“The boars squeal like children when they’re being slaughtered. I find it discomforting.”
Viserys takes a swig of his ale.
“How would you like to participate?”
“I’m not sure why I must.”
“Because you are my daughter, the Princess. You have duties.”
“As I am ceaselessly reminded.” Rhaenyra mutters under her breath.
Viserys clenches his jaw and the Princess can’t help but feel a bit victorious.
He holds his arms out and Rhaenyra lifts Aegon off her lap.
The boy fusses before Viserys has the chance to hold him.
She lets out a chuckle before setting Aegon back down on her lap.
“Oh it’s alright my young Prince. Is the old man bothering you as well?”
Bouncing her leg for comfort.
“Don’t cry.”
She whispers and Aegon quietly obeys, turning his attention back to his toy dragon.
“You wouldn’t need to be reminded of your duties if you ever attended to them.”
Viserys says through gritted teeth before the carriage comes to a stop.
The King walks out without another word and Aegon’s caretaker grabs the baby quickly, leaving the carriage with him in her arms.
Rhaenyra rejects any eye contact attempted by Alicent. She exits, taking note of the large crowd awaiting their arrival.
Alicent swallows her pride, brushing off Rhaenyra’s dismissal.
Schooling her expression she steps out. She is stunned for a moment as the Princess held out her own hand, helping Alicent get off the carriage.
Her hand still in Rhaenyra’s, she studies the Princess’ expression and for a moment there is familiarity.
Alicent sees her best friend, the woman she loves.
Rhaenyra’s steely exterior quickly restored, she denies Alicent any opportunity to thank her. Swiftly walking ahead of the Queen, through the crowd.
--
Rhaenyra’s irritability felt like a low rumble in the pit of her stomach, contained but still intrusive.
Lord Lannister’s slimy attempt at winning her hand only worked to turn her rage into an intolerable pounding in her head.
“Is that what I am to you? A prize to proffer about to the great houses?”
The King turns around and is met with his daughter’s irate expression.
“You are of age, Rhaenyra.”
“Jason Lannister is an excellent match. Since you came of age, I’ve been drowning in a lake of parchment flung from every corner of the realm. Marriage proposals all.”
“I have tried, often to discuss it with you. But you’ve refused me at every turn.”
Viserys raises his voice and Rhaenyra rolls her eyes.
“That is because I do not wish to get married.”
“Even I do not exist above duty Rhaenyra!”
Her father shouts and it only ignites her own wrath.
“Your Grace.”
The Lord Hand interrupts and the several eyes around the room peering in their direction only urges Rhaenyra to flee.
She storms out without another word.
“Rhaenyra!”
She ignores Alicent calling out to her, quickly mounting her horse to ride out into the forest on her own.
--
The Princess dismounts her horse by the river, she found herself observing the steady stream.
In this moment she can breathe again.
It is as if the constant flow of water washed out any trace of anger in her system.
A heaviness begins to loom over Rhaenyra again when she hears the sound of a horse galloping. As it got closer she quickly recognised it to be Alicent.
Ser Criston came along as her escort.
She watches as Alicent dismounts the horse.
Rhaenyra fails to greet the Queen, turning her attention back to the water.
“You may go, Ser Criston I will ride back with the Princess.”
“But–”
“The Queen commands you to leave us at once.”
Criston hesitates.
“I will remain at a distance Your Grace but I cannot leave you here unprotected.”
Criston takes his leave before Alicent gets the opportunity to command otherwise.
Alicent steps closer to Rhaenyra and after a beat the Princess breaks the silence.
“State what it is that you want, Alicent.”
The Queen furrows her eyebrows, foolishly she hadn’t prepared for Rhaenyra’s harshness.
“I do not wish anything from you Rhaenyra. I only wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Rhaenyra lets out a sigh.
“You needn’t worry for me Your Grace. I am perfectly fine, please return to your husband.” Rhaenyra practically spits the last statement.
More silence falls between them but she doesn’t attempt to walk away.
“What happened back there? I thought today was rather pleasant–”
Rhaenyra lets out a laugh, although there is no humour behind it.
“Pleasant for who? You? Or my father?”
She challenges but Alicent doesn’t falter.
“Do you not tire from holding this grudge Rhaenyra? None of it needs be this way.”
Alicent reaches for the other woman’s hand experimentally.
Rhaenyra steps back, letting out a scoff.
She is no longer using her words.
Inevitably walking away from Alicent she prepares to mount her horse.
“Whatever you say, Your Grace.”
Alicent now feeling her own frustration, she struts after Rhaenyra.
“Don’t do that.”
“I only hoped after today that you'd make an effort to spend more time with us."
She keeps her tone cordial but it only seemed to infuriate Rhaenyra further.
“Why would you ever expect that from me?”
Rhaenyra steps closer, her attempt to intimidate Alicent only causes her own breath to hitch in her throat.
Their close proximity forces a flood of memories into the forefront of her mind, memories she is quick to suppress.
“Because we are a family.”
Alicent says and Rhaenyra rolls her eyes.
“Bullshit.”
She turns to walk further away, abandoning her effort to get on her horse. She could not bear to look at her Queen.
“And because he is your son.”
Alicent mutters, barely audible but loud enough to stop Rhaenyra in her tracks.
Turning around to face her, she notices Alicent’s eyes welling up with tears.
Rhaenyra’s head is pounding again.
“What did you say?”
Alicent’s chest heaving as she holds back a sob.
The sight compelled Rhaenyra to step closer to her.
“Aegon is your son.”
Alicent repeats but it does nothing to subdue her confusion. Rhaenyra shakes her head in disagreement.
In disbelief.
“Alicent..”
Rhaenyra tries but could not find it in herself to conjure a coherent sentence.
“I found that I was with child days before the wedding.”
“Rhaenyra, you are the only one I had ever laid with.”
The Princess stumbles backwards as if she had just been struck. She clutches her chest until the searing pain subsided.
Her own eyes now brimming with tears.
“Why keep this from me?”
Alicent doesn’t respond instead she has her face in her hands as heavy sobs racked her body.
Rhaenyra closes the gap between them, wrapping her arms around Alicent.
“I’m sorry.” The Princess says and she feels Alicent grip her tighter.
What exactly she was apologising for, she could not say for certain.
She was sorry for not being around to raise Aegon alongside her.
She was sorry that Alicent married the King instead of her.
Rhaenyra was also sorry for the impending knowledge that Aegon’s true parentage was a secret that had to be kept between them, for they both realized that the implications were dire.
Their baby boy, a blessing as much as he is a curse.
Rhaenyra releases Alicent from her grasp, she looks into her eyes and it hits her all at once.
“Aegon’s our son?”
Rhaenyra breathes out, still incapable of processing her new reality.
Alicent reaches up to wipe the fresh tear coming down Rhaenyra’s cheek. She could not help the smile that forms on her lips.
“He’s our son.”
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