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#The Botanical Register

celticbotanart · 7 months

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Sharing my absofucking BIZARRE music year - most of these were ADHD loops, lol these tracks fucks SEVERELY though

I'm using my LASTFM stats instead of the wrap bc wrap is never fucking accurate - I upload a lot of my music because many of my fave stuff isn't available for streaming, andthe app doesn't compute those tracks when I listen to them

LASTFM doesnt tell me how many minutes I've listened to, so I'll use the deezer Stat for that (which again, it's innacurate, I probably have more than that from the tracks it didn't register, and for the stuff I listened casually or on repeat on youtube)

As you all are very aware, I like music a normal amount kkkkk

#Music posts #Kinda #Botanic panic #And yup still using LASTFM I love that little freak service. Been registering my music stuff there since 2010 #If I feel like it I'll make an addition linking the top songs and tell a bit about them some of them are veeery unique and cool!

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horsentale · 5 months

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Winter Products For Horses

As fall is almost over for some of us we aren't able to ride outside anymore. And we can feel the chill of colder weather. It's time to start thinking about winter weather changes and how they can affect our equine partners.

WINTER PRODUCTS FOR HORSES As fall is almost over for some of us we aren’t able to ride outside anymore. And we can feel the chill of colder weather. It’s time to start thinking about winter weather changes and how they can affect our equine partners. It maybe they have had caught scratches from muddy pens. Have sore tight muscles from standing around in the cold weather due to lack of exercise.…

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xoxo-greed · 7 months

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idk this might be kinda too specific but like imagine the twst mc isn’t a prefect but a magic user aswell and they’re just some normal student in nrc but they keep using magic excessively and their magic pen is like so so dark and their housewarden s/o is like ‘you should stop’ and yhe mc is like ‘no’ so then the housewarden like fucks them for the whole day so they can stop using magic for the time being

—> minors dni. hardcore smut ig ? all chars aged up, all of them being absolutely meanies.

an - lets give this guy an applause 🗣️‼️ I was running out of ideas and you saved me 🫶 I don’t have a bunch of time, so instead I’ll do Leona only since he seems like the right call. Its pretty long, sorry I couldn’t do more </3 ily tho ! buybyeee and enjoy !

———————————————————————

Pent up frustration that didn’t let him sleep, the fact that you look so tired and miserable because of your magic pisses him off. To him, he’s the one thats supposed to take care of you, for some reason he cares about you more than any other. Then he has an idea.

After a long day, Ruggie walks up to you, poking your shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Hey, Y/N! Leona wants you to go to the botanical garden with him.” He tells you, you raise an eyebrow “What for? He always tells me to leave when I go with him.” Ruggie shrugs. “I don’t know, but I think its something serious.” Upon those words, you decided to take care of it.

You leave to the botanical garden, where you find the hidden space Leona always resides in. In which, when you enter, he instantly jumps on you, pressing you onto the ground. “What the hell do you think your doing?” He says harshly. You’re stunned ‘Why is he acting like this?’ You never see him like this. You frown “If this is about the magic thing, forget about it.” You say, turning around, about to crawl away, when you feel him put his hand on your head, instantly pressing your head down onto the grass. “Le-Leona, what are you doing?!” You yell, startled as he covers your mouth. He looks down at you with an angry expression.

“I’m going to fuck some sense into you, thats what.”

——————————————

Your clothes on the floor, his hands spreading your legs open. Everything was so.. exciting.. He had ripped of your clothes and his clothes alongside that. The pool of warmth that was in the pit of your stomach had now traveled down to your legs, Leona’s precum covering your wet lips, tongue lapping over them.

Everything felt so warm, your juices soon covering his mouth, and then helping his rock hard cock slip into you, all your thoughts getting fucked out when his first thrust registers into your body, legs bent onto his shoulders and claws holding your thighs open.

“fuck— how are you- god damn it your so tight” he groans out, long hair stuck onto his sweaty face. He missed this, YOU missed this, the feeling of his hips rutting into yours, the way you’d feel full with his cock, as if you’d just eaten a full course of food. It was too fucking good, too good. Its like the both of you became two wild animals in heat, you couldn’t say much about him though, he was technically one with the way he was acting.

“Leo- Leona- Ngh.. stop it.. I have to.. give me my pen b-“ Your cut of by your own moan, the feeling of your pens cold magical stone pressing onto your clit, bundle of nerves causing your back to arch and a dam to open inside of you as Leona releases his own batch.

Your legs felt like as if they’d been liquified.. a little.. too.. liquified?

“leona..”

“Yeah?”

“You put a spell on me didn’t you?”

“Sure did, bunny.” He responds, kissing your forehead and covering your naked body with his blanket, leaving you to rest inside his room.

All the black ink was gone by the time he came back.

#twisted wonderland #leona x reader #leona x y/n #leona kingscholar #smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut

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kalims · 1 year

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11:48 PM | malleus draconia

prompt. "you're cute," "what?" "I said you look like a lizard," "..."

something smooth, and cold drips down in between your fingers.

you know you should probably be equally mortified and disgusted by the feeling cause it's like tripping face first in a road full of wet, muddy dirt when you've just finished taking a shower hours prior.

but you're sure your younger self is now seamlessly punching your legs when you're practically the living embodiment of enchanted.

and no, you're not talking about yourself but rather the tall, horned guy rambling on a few distances away from you—smiling at nothing in particular and looking like he's contented with life.

you know you're staring quite rudely but the situation called for it! you're staring, he looks perfect, and great. your ice cream's melting for god's sake!

you yourself are not sure why malleus had agreed to you so easily when you questioned if he wanted to accompany you to the carnival, from what you know he'd choose something... less colorful, and more quiet.

something simple would be the better word for it.

but even when he looks like he's totally out of place with the crowd and the flashing colorful lights shining on his face—man, who cares if you're staring?!

you swallow thickly.

"you're cute."

only then does malleus take notice of the desert he had gotten you minutes ago. it's something he'd like to indulge in but he only had enough for one so he till got it for you one anyways.

slowly, he blinks at your hands, at you before hesitantly speaking. "what?"

you chuckle humorlessly. such little distance between us and you couldn't even hear that, but when you'd called for him in the botanical garden he was there in a flash. figuratively and literally.

"I said you look like a lizard." you cough. before you could even register the complete dumbassery you just committed, malleus is already conversing with a stall owner (who admittedly started to nervously stammer in between words at the sight of his heights and.. other features.)

you watch the melted ice cream drip onto the ground and mourn your loss.

not even a second later he's already standing by close, and wiping off the liquid that had already started to dry, and stick to your skin.

you catch the faint trace of a smile on his face. "how flattering, I was not aware I looked like one even in this form. you have a keen eye." malleus comments. you can feel the embarrassment seep in.

honestly you were just gonna say he looked like a fruit but that just didn't make sense.

... but to an outsiders that sounded like it held less sense more.

he exhales and you hold your breath. "I thank you, child of man." he spares you a kind smile. "I think you're quite beautiful yourself.

note. I be writing for malleus every second of the day help, it's a disease now

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #twst #twisted wonderland #twst fluff #malleus draconia #malleus #twstnexus #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #yarghhh what a mess

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thelibrarian1895 · 3 months

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Bruce is the restraining bolt

Let's say that Bruce "dies" again. Tim, of course, figures it's another temporary thing and bonus he doesn't need to risk another organ to prove it this time. That being said, Bruce isn't around to stop them now. Dick doesn't feel the need to be the dad this time since Bruce will be back. He's the big brother, the babysitter at best. Jason has never felt the need to step up into a parental role for any of his sibs before and he's not going to stop now. Cass won't kill, that is her line, beyond that, she's not anyone's parent either. Tim is one bad day away from being a supervillain, he seriously needs a vacation but at the same time he needs something that will keep him busy or he will get paranoid (thanks B for the trauma) and so he's not going to stop anyone, Duke doesn't have the experience to know when or if he should stop any of his sibs, steph and barbara are staying out of it as while they are family they consider themselves cousins at best no matter what B says, and no one is going to let Damian boss them around.

That being established, B is gone, Alfred is fretting but not inclined to stop anyone anyway, the kids decide that while the bat is away...

When Bruce returns, Alfred is just returning from a spa trip his beloved grandchildren insisted that he go on since he deserved a nice break and they even investigated to make sure the spa wasn't a scam or front! While Alfred was gone and Bruce was "dead", all Black Mask's warehouses had been mysteriously destroyed with large explosions that Bruce had previously forbidden because he was worried about collateral damage since some of those warehouses were sandwiched by other storage facilities and places where people squatted. (Steph and Jason, both very affronted because they are professionals B! And yes, there were also glitter bombs involved, it made the fire extra pretty with the different colors).

Furthermore, Lex Luthor is no longer the majority shareholder of his own company anymore, that would be Tim now, and all of Lex's employees are rejoicing since they're all getting a pay raise that brings them from the legal bare minimum to not just a living wage but twice that plus benefits even for those who aren't full timers (which is basically everyone, lex never wanted to get benefits for anyone). Lex is also being investigated for embezzling, money laundering, domestic and international terrorism, and the trafficking of minors (kon). Lex chose a very bad time to make Kon sad and Tim took that personally.

Bruce also discovered that Tim's childhood home, aka the drake's old place next door for the given value of next door, has been demolished and that whole area is now a botanical garden and registered wildlife sanctuary. (Damian with assistance and permission from Tim since technically the land was in Tim's name, Damian persuaded Poison Ivy to help while also monitoring to ensure she didn't slip in anything detrimental and also breaking up the exotic animal smuggling ring that B had been trying to keep from him to prevent this very thing. Tim, in the meantime, just happened to have a number of people on hand more than happy to work in a botanical garden/wildlife sanctuary and no, none of those people were ever formerly ninja who answered to Ra's before realizing that Red Robin was a far better employer, why would you ever think they were?)

And of course, the Joker is dead. None of his kids are fessing up to this. If pressed, they will cry, even Jason, and say that they thought Joker killed their dad and they wished it had been them because they missed him so much! (It was Dick and Barbara, Babs faked the paperwork for Dick to go in as an orderly, Dick, in disguise, gave the Joker altered medication via injection and made sure to get some air bubbles in for good measure, official COD was a totally natural brain aneurysm, so sad, no autopsy needed, burn the body)

Duke was a bit of a wild card and ended up hanging out with Selina, picking up a few extra skills, and using those skills to break into various mansions and apartments of the filthy rich to steal back stolen art and artifacts and return them to museums in their country of origin so they can be enjoyed by everyone (he watched indiana jones recently and the "it belongs in a museum" popped into his head a lot, he did wear a particular hat while he was committing his heists) It was nice potential step mother and step son bonding time

And finally, Cass causes Ra's Al Ghul to lose a particular appendage, one that the lazarus pit hasn't been able to grow back for him thanks to a little consultation with Constantine beforehand. She then went to hang out at Themyscira and got some very pretty bracelets.

Bruce is thinking very hard about just turning around. He takes a nap instead and then he lectures his beloved nutcases about personal safety, the law, respecting what is essentially dibs on certain super villains, and all the other boring stuff he's tried to impose on them over the years.

#bruce wayne #batfamily #batman #tim drake #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #signal #stephanie brown #duke thomas #alfred pennyworth #crack fic idea #cassandra cain #cassandra wayne

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lily-drake · 1 year

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It’s a Learned Trait

This is my Secret Santa gift to Night_ngale on Ao3! This story is inspired by this photo by @mumblesplash on Tumblr (yes I got permission, and thank you for it!):

For Night_ngale on Ao3:

Marinette had been having a wonderful day with her parents in Gotham, New Jersey. Her parents had just finished a catering job there and today they had decided to go sightseeing to all of the tourist attractions. They had taken her to the zoo, to the aquarium, to the museum, and now they were heading to a bo-ton-tanicel-al…. botanical garden! Both of her parents were holding her hands and smiling brightly at her as they walked the busy streets. It was such a nice day, absolutely nothing could ruin it for her!

Then an explosion happened, and there was running, and a ringing noise in her ears that just wouldn’t stop, and everything was moving too fast.

Screams filled the air along with scary high pitched giggling that sent shivers running through her spine. She clutched tightly to the pair of hands that held onto both of her’s just as tightly, if not tighter, as they fled the crowded streets. Then they could feel the cool shadow of something big that was coming from up high. She looked up and felt herself freeze up as a massive piece of concrete broke off of the building they were under and fell faster and faster and faster exactly where she and her parents stood. She tried to move, she tried to get herself to run away from the danger that she knew even at her age meant that she would no longer be able to wander the Earth; but she couldn’t. The people kept shoving past her and her parents, keeping them in place as everyone pushed and shoved to get far, far away from the ensuing chaos. The crowd was too thick, the screams were too loud, the rubble was too fast. The next thing she knew was two pairs of different sized hands shoved her forward away from the massive pieces of falling debris that was right above them. She turned to look behind her to see her parents' horrified expressions as they too stared up at the ginormous piece of concrete that was hurtling towards them and so many more people. People kept almost stepping on her and crowding her vision of her parents and they moved before she could blink.

Before she could even process what happened next, someone had picked her up and moved her away before quickly covering her eyes. A few seconds later a loud crash was heard and the ground shook so hard she would have fallen over if the person hadn’t been keeping her upright. Once the shaking was over the person that had rescued her picked her up, holding tightly onto her as they moved their hand up and the sound of something being shot through the air sounded just above her.

“It’s ok, I’ve gotcha.”

Said a deep gruff voice, though she could barely hear it as the cold wind whipped past her ears biting at her skin. Her knee length pink dress hugged her legs as her brain refused to function and process the events that had just occurred. She felt her feet touch solid ground, but her legs didn’t seem to want to hold her as her brain continued to stay offline. She couldn’t think, couldn’t comprehend, and would the ringing in her ears just stop! Where were her mama and papa?! What happened to them?!

It sounded like someone was trying to talk to her, but she was underwater and she couldn’t hear a thing, she couldn’t even see what was in front of her clearly. Her entire body felt like it was weighted down, the pressure slowly crushing her. She couldn’t even think, her brain was just too quiet and the ringing was too loud! There was too much, too much noise, too much quiet, too much information yet not enough at all! She kept going down deeper with nothing to ground her fleeting thoughts until she felt something heavy being placed around her shoulders. Her eyes slowly began to register her surroundings and, after who knew how long, she was met with deep light teal eyes that were filled with worry. Their face was obscured by a red mask, but she could still make out most of his features. He had dark black hair with a white streak in it. She didn’t know why this was important, all she knew was that she had to keep looking at him. It was like if she looked away from him then everything would get all fuzzy again and she wouldn’t be able to think, and the ringing would take over her again even though it was still there! Why can’t it stop, just make it stop, she wanted her mama and papa! Where were they?!

“Hey, things will be ok.”

The masked man gently stated. He kept eye contact with her, watching her to make sure she didn’t start to hyperventilate and that she wouldn’t go into shock. He carefully pulled the jacket around her full body, carefully pulling her limp and dysfunctional arms into the jacket’s large sleeves. He gave her a small reassuring smile while smoothing out the sleeves on the jacket, pressing the warmth of it onto her. “Can you hold onto this for me? I’ll be right back, ok?”

She simply nodded her head and held onto the jacket tightly like it was a lifeline. He slowly grabbed a helmet that was on the ground near his legs and put it on. “Don’t move ok, you’re safe now.”

He looked back at her then ran and jumped off…., oh, she was on a roof. When did she get on a roof? She hadn’t noticed. She stood completely still, her mind causing the cacophony of noises to fade in and out. She could hear screams and bangs, then nothing. She could hear fighting and laughter, then the ringing came back. The sounds often came close to the roof she was on; the fear of it made her legs so weak she eventually collapsed onto her knees as she clutched the jacket tighter than before. Eventually her brain finally seemed to grasp the reality around her causing tears to start falling down her cheeks and sobs escaped her lips. Her parents were dead, she was rescued, but th-they’re d-de-dead!

Sobs wracked her small frame as the noises continued on for she doesn’t even know how long. Every time there was a noise louder than the rest she pulled the jacket even tighter around her small body expecting the worst. She wanted to escape, she wanted to hug her parents, she just wanted to go back home to Paris. She wanted to go back to the bakery and eat the desserts her parents made, see Nino and Kim and play games with them, she wanted to go to the pretty gardens at the park and lay with the flowers.

They were supposed to be happy, they were happy when they saw the pretty fishies, they were happy when they saw the amazing artifacts in the museum, papa had held her on his shoulders so she could see the giraffes better when they had taken her to the zoo. Everything had been so perfect, why did everything change so fast? Why did her mama and papa have to leave her like this? Why was there no rain when such a terrible tragedy had just occurred like in the movies?

There was a soft thump that made her wrap the jacket even tighter, if that was even possible. She didn’t want to get hurt, she just wanted her parents back. “Hey, thanks for holding onto that for me.”

The man from before said. She looked up, her eyes watery, making his figure blurry. She saw him take off the helmet and set it down. He looked sad and remorseful as he slowly sat next to her, but never reached out to touch her, instead remaining a comfortable presence. “You from here?”

She slowly shook her head no. “P-Paris.”

Her voice was cracked and broken. Her parents had her study English with her French studies because of all of the tourists that came by. Not to mention Mama said that if she wanted to be famous then she had to know English. How would she get back to Paris? Who would take her? How was she supposed to survive without her mama and papa?! She couldn’t, she needed them, now they’re gone and she’ll die here because she has nothing without them.

“Paris is a nice place. Have any friends there?”

She nodded again, the movement causing the drops on her cheek to drip onto the ground. He stayed silent, waiting to see if she would do or say anything further. She was glad he let her take her time, she was tired and her brain was still too loud and fuzzy to really understand his questions immediately. Dejectedly she replied, “N-Nino and K-Kim are my friends. Th-they stand up t-to Chloe f-for me. Everyo-one else is too scared of her an-and her daddy.”

He reached out to touch her, but quickly pulled back. He wanted to comfort the small child, but he wasn’t sure how she would respond if he touched her. She looked so small curled up in his jacket, it would have been cute if it weren’t for the circumstances that led to the scene in front of him. “Sounds like you’ve got some good people lookin’ out for ya.”

He said, trying to sound reassuring. She gave a small smile and nodded, “Y-yea.”

“Why don’t we go somewhere safe. I know someone who will take care of ya for a bit, okay?” Red Hood asked carefully. She nodded again and was about to take her arms out of the sleeves of the warm jacket, but before she could fully take it off the man stopped her. “Keep it, I’ve got a lot of others back home, and this is gonna keep you safe, ok?”

She nodded slowly, letting him adjust and zip it up so the warmth that still lingered in it was all around her. He slowly stood up, projecting his movements so as to not scare her before he extended his hand for her to take. She looked at it hesitantly, slowly reaching out and taking hold of his hand as she wiped her cheeks with the sleeve of her free arm. Her hand was so small that when he closed his her entire hand was encompassed by his own. He gently pulled her back onto her feet making sure she was stable before letting go. “Hop on my back and hold on tight, ‘kay?”

He said softly–just like her mom used to when she was hurt–crouching down with his back facing her so she could climb on. With a brief moment of hesitation, because what if this was a trap like Mama and Papa had warned her about, she carefully climbed onto his back and wrapped her arms around his neck and gripped onto his shirt. It was a bit hard as there seemed to be something hard sewn into parts of it, but it was okay. He slowly got up and made sure her legs were wrapped tightly around his torso so she wouldn't slip or fall off. When he was sure she was secure, he grabbed something from one of his pockets, angled it. There was a loud bang, like the one she had heard when he had first grabbed her, though that memory felt like it was from so many years ago, that startled her accompanied by a whiz as it shot into the air. He pulled on the device he was using to make sure it was taught and secure, then he ran and jumped off the building.

Marinette screamed in fear and buried her face into his shoulder, holding him even tighter than before. She kept her eyes shut, feeling out the rhythm of run, jump, fall, swing. Eventually she started to feel a little more comfortable swinging through the air, that was until they started to fall again. She screamed again louder than the time before and heard the noise of the man’s device again before she felt the taut jolt that signified they were soaring through the air once more. Slowly, she tilted her head up and saw how amazing the city looked with all of its shining lights so high up in the sky with the setting sun sinking behind the tall buildings. Wasn’t it just past 13:00 though? She had just eaten lunch with her mama and papa; hadn’t she…?

Suddenly the lights weren’t as amazing as they were before, they were dull and full of sorrow and loss. She didn’t want to look down just in case she saw them, they wouldn’t look the same. She didn’t want to look down because then she might fall, and she didn’t want to fall. Heights have always been scary. She held onto the man tighter, scared that if she loosened her grip even the smallest amount, she’d fall.

They continued on in that fashion for a few minutes when the man with the red helmet set her down on a balcony. It was plain with a swirled black metal guard. The roof was bland and lifeless with nothing decorating it other than the fence, she didn’t like it. “I’ve got a friend here. He’ll watch over you for a while, okay?” She nodded slowly, unsure of whether she should be relieved someone would take her in or scared that this was all some sort of trap. She watched and listened as the man climbed down a fire escape and began to tap on a window.

Tap

…

Tap tap

…..

Tap tap tap

Then he stepped back and waited. Another man with red hair opened the window with a small smile, “What’s up Hood?” He asked in a casual voice.

“I need you to watch someone for me.”

The red-haired man raised a brow.

“Her parents didn’t make it in the last battle with Joker. Lots of debris, and I don’t feel like having serial-adopter-bats see her.”

“Makes sense. Where are they?” The other man asked with a small nod, looking around the escape. The man in the helmet held up one finger and climbed back up to her.

“Can you come with me please?”

Marinette gulped, unsure of what she should do. But the man has been really nice to her so far, and he’s even letting her keep his jacket. Slowly she reached out and took his offered hand, letting him help her down the fire escape to the window.

“Hey,”

The other man said in a soft tone,

“What's your name?”

She looked down, anxiously twirling her foot from side to side. “M-Marinette.” She replied quietly, voice strained.

“That’s a nice name, how old are you?” His voice was soft and gentle and it made her feel a little more at ease.

“Nine.”

“Wow, you’re pretty old, huh? I’m Roy, do you want to come in and eat something? I just finished making some sandwiches.” She looked back at the man that had brought her here and saw him give her a small nod. She nodded back and shyly followed the red haired man into the apartment building. “Do you want some water?”

She nodded again, standing near the island counter. She looked back at the window where the man in the helmet had been only seconds before, only to see that he was no longer there. The man nodded and quickly got a cup from a cupboard and filled it with some tap water before placing it on the counter near her with a small plate that held what looked like BLT. “I have a roommate, he should come by soon. Just as a heads up, ok?”

She nodded, carefully climbing up to the barstool and sat down. Marinette looked at the sandwich and started picking at it. She really wasn’t that hungry, but it would be rude to not accept her host's hospitality. Her mama had taught her the importance of respecting people that were trying to help her, especially when she was at her friend’s home. Tears she thought she had run out of started to resurface as she thought of her mama. She sniffled and wiped her eyes before more could escape.

Roy looked at her worriedly. From what he had read from the text Jason had sent him, her parents were caught by falling debris from one of Joker’s bombs that the bats hadn’t been able to dismantle in time. He had been able to pull her away, but her parents along with a bunch of other civilians weren’t able to make it out of the way in time. Jason said that he had managed to cover her eyes and take her away before she could see anything, but he knew that wouldn’t be enough to stop any type of trauma from forming.

The girl was so small, he could only imagine what must be going through her mind. Not to mention she was only visiting from Paris, she wasn’t even from Gotham. Apparently her parents were catering for one of Bruce’s events, and that was the only reason they had even traveled here in the first place.

“Hey, do you want to watch a movie? I’m sure we could find something you’d like.” She didn’t respond right away as she processed what he had asked. It didn’t matter though, he’d give her all the time she needed.

“R-Ratatouille?” Was her small reply. A smile graced his lips, as he asked,

“Is that your favorite Disney movie?” She shrunk in on herself and nodded with a small,

“Mhm.”

“That’s a great movie, let me ask Jason to pick it up when he comes back. He should be here soon anyways.”

“Okay.”

Her voice was so quiet, but he could hear the joy in her voice. He quickly texted Jason to pick up the movie when he was done debriefing with The Bats and started to make another sandwich since she was eating his, not that he minded of course.

• • •

Jason walks in with a bag full of gummy candy, popcorn, a box of different flavored macaroons, and one Disney movie in its unopened case and plastic wrapping. He was thankful to see that the small girl was sitting at the counter drawing. He wouldn’t know what to do if she were still crying. “Hey, heard we’re takin’ care of another kid? I bet Lian will be happy to have a new friend when she comes back from her sleepover.”

He called out into the apartment as if he had no idea what had happened only a few hours before. The little girl startled from her seat, quickly turning to look at him with her large bluebell eyes. He really needed to keep her away from Bruce, she was perfect Wayne material and he refused for her to be tainted by him and the rest of his adopted child army.

“Yea, Red Hood dropped her off due to….” He glanced at the girl sympathetically, “The incident that happened earlier.”

Marinette shifted uncomfortably and went back to drawing with a furrowed brow. There was a heavy silence that filled the room until Jason said, “Well, I bought a bunch of snacks and was told to buy a movie, so….”

Marinette looked up again and hopped off the chair nearly tripping. She quickly stood up embarrassed as both boys stared at her in worry.

“You okay Marinette?” Roy asked carefully, walking towards her. Her cheeks turned a slight red as she nodded.

“Y-yes, sorry. I’m really clumsy.” Her voice held a French accent that only made the little girl even more adorable. Jason gave her a wide smile and gently handed her the plastic grocery bag.

“Here you go.”

She carefully took the bag with a small, “Thank you”, and started to look through it. Her eyes shined with childlike glee at the macaroons and they shined even brighter when she pulled out the blue-ray disk. She quickly ran over to Roy and showed him the movie asking if he could put it into whatever he uses.

It was interesting to see Roy smile and ruffle her hair. He looked calm and happy, used to the role of caretaker. Gently he took the disk, removed the plastic before opening it up, and walked over to the TV in the main room next to the kitchen and popped the disk in.

“Hey, I’ll go grab some blankets. Do you want to take your shoes off Marinette?” He asked gently as he moved toward the linen closet. She nodded and slipped them off with a slightly flushed face. She watched as Roy sunk down on the couch where he patted at one of the seats. Cautiously she walked toward the coach sitting in a rocking chair a few feet away from Roy. You could never be too cautious, at least that’s what her mama used to say. “Used to”, that felt wrong.

When Jason walked back into the room he watched as the small girl hugged her legs close to her chest, face hidden behind her arms. It was a heartbreaking sight, a sight that felt familiar as it pulled against his heartstrings as he remembered doing the same thing around the same age.

“Thanks Jaybird.” Roy whispered as he took the blankets from his hands. He hadn’t even noticed that he was approaching. He was out of it today, and not in a good way. The opening narration of Remmy the Rat began to play through the speakers as Roy slowly and carefully wrapped a weighted blanket around the young girl's shoulders. He watched as Roy talked to her quietly for a few moments, never initiating touch, waiting to see what she would say or do. It was always interesting to watch Roy act like a father as he treated his kid far differently than either of his dads had treated him. After a few minutes Roy stepped away, back to his spot on the couch not saying another word as the young girl collected herself before looking up to watch the movie with tear soaked cheeks that stabbed at Jason’s heart.

• • •

It was around the middle of the movie that little Mari fell asleep. She had slowly begun to relax as the movie progressed until she had blinked a few times very slowly, then her eyes fell and stayed shut. She was emotionally exhausted from the day and had simply passed out, poor kid.

Jason watched the kid, but not in a weird way. He was worried, and he didn’t know what to do. The kid was stuck here, despite the fact that she’s not a citizen, and from what little information he could find with little time at his disposal, he couldn’t find any family that could take her now that she was an orphan. Jason wondered if this was how Bruce felt when he had met all of them before he decided to make them his little band of misfit toys. He often felt this way when he saw Lian, but it was never as strong of an emotion as he felt now for this child he had only met a few hours ago.

“You look constipated; which means you’re trying a failing to show some form of deep emotion. So spit it out, what’s going on in that thick skull of yours?”

Roy asked quietly, turning his head slightly to give him a side eye before turning back to the movie. Jason rolled his eyes and let out a long frustrated sigh. “I don’t know Roy. There’s just a lot going on, especially after the last attack.”

Roy quickly paused the movie and turned to look Jason in his eyes. There wasn’t any pity in his gaze, but there was empathy and an openness that showed he wouldn’t judge.

“It was Joker’s fault. So many people died because of the Joker, her parents,” he firmly gestured to the sleeping girl with tear stained cheeks sleeping on the small chair, whisper yelling so as to not wake her; “are no longer alive because of his actions today and Bruce still won’t get rid of him.” Jason took in a deep shuddering breath, he needed to control himself, he couldn’t let the green creep in. That wouldn’t do anything, it wouldn’t do any good for anyone, especially right now.

“I’ve tried to kill him,” Jason admitted shakily, “I’ve tried, but he always finds a way to stop me. I don’t understand how he cares for that-that creature more than his own- than me.” A heavy silence fell between them only broken up by the gentle snores to their right.

“I don’t want her to feel this way, I don’t want her to go through the same pain I went through at her age.” Jason continued. When I was trying to find out any information on her, a potential family member that could take her home I found that her grandmother on her dad’s side died in a motorcycle accident, her grandfather died of a heart attack, on her mom’s side it looks like her mother was disowned for unknown reasons, which means that they probably would not take in her daughter. That leaves her with Social Services, and despite Bruce’s efforts I still don’t trust it; or as a street kid.”

Roy contemplated everything that Jason had just told him. They had been through a lot together, in fact Jason and Star were the reasons that he was still alive, the reason he believed that he was doing a good job at being a father, they helped him keep going when everyone else had given up on him. Roy glanced at the sleeping girl, then back to Jason. Jason looked at the girl the same way Roy looked at his own daughter, with a sort of protective love. Roy could tell that Jason cared about the kid; he probably saw himself Marinette. It only made sense that he would feel extra protective around the girl as no one would want the same trauma that you’ve faced placed onto another.

“Well, what do you think is the best thing to do Jason? I know for a fact that you’re not going to be letting Bruce or any of the other bats, besides maybe Oracle, anywhere near her. If what you say is true, and she really has no family that will willingly take her in, then what’s your plan?”

Another sigh escaped Jason as he leaned his head back so that it was hanging off the couch. “I don’t know Roy, maybe we can drop her off in Metropolis and let her be taken care of there. They have a better system and I’m sure she would be adopted by someone that would love her.”

Roy nodded, he could see the good in the plan, but there was something else. Jason was still frustrated and didn’t like the idea. “But?” He prodded.

“‘But’,” Jason said emphasizing the ‘t’, “the thought of doing that makes my skin crawl in all of the wrong ways.”

Roy hummed. This isn't some easy or light hearted task. The kid had just lost both of her parents in the most sudden way possible, then she was taken away from the area and to the house of complete strangers, and to top it off she may never be able to return to her home country; but if she does she would be put into the foster system with no stability ot time to heal. Of course she also had the possibility of being taken in by her grandparents in China, but there was a chance that they would treat her poorly since they had disowned her mother, and they may only take her in because of obligation. Nothing about this was easy, none of it was simple. If Jason wanted to somehow become her legal guardian then he would need to earn her trust, he would have to either legally become alive again or find a believable identity that would allow for him to adopt her.

There were just so many variables, and it was too late for this conversation, yet not late enough.

“Lian’s coming home tomorrow, we can figure this out while they play.”

Jason nodded, mostly to himself. “You’re right. We need to give her more time to process everything, I still need to process today.”

“Did you have a panic attack?” Roy asked worriedly. Now that he was thinking about it there must have been lots of explosions, even if most of them were disabled. Then there was the clown and how he just paraded around on the rooftops. Jason had had a few before when he returned back to the apartment after a Joker breakout, it was horrifying. Jason just gave him a sad, strained smile.

“No, thankfully.”

“Right,” Roy said as he slowly stood up, stretching his arms up dramatically. “Well let's move her to Kori’s room tonight. She’s still visiting Tamaran.”

Jason nodded, following suit. Slowly he approached the sleeping girl, televising his movements despite the fact that she was still asleep before gently picking the girl up. Roy watched with a gentle smile as he slowly walked to Kori’s room, trying not to wake her as he brought her to bed. He had watched Jason do the same thing with Lian, playing the role of older brother perfectly. Now, it looked like he might be stepping into a new role. The same role that Roy carried right now. But who knew what would happen. As Roy settled in for the night in his own room a sudden thought came to his mind. Jason was always complaining how Bruce had a “type” or MO for the people he really cared about; and that was that they needed to have black hair and/or blue eyes. The girl that Jason saved and now is attached to has black hair and…blue eyes. He quickly turned into his pillow and started laughing his butt of, hoping that no one would be able to hear him. A couple tears slipped down his cheeks as he thought to himself, ‘so it’s a learned trait after all.’

Taglist:

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ada7201 · 5 months

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bllk boys …

with a clutz s/o! < hcs >

gn! reader

★ part 1 with, Kaiser, Barou, Kunigami, Chigiri

★ part 2 with, Isagi, Bachira, Nagi, Reo

★ part 3 with, Rin, Sae, Shido, Aiku

hope you like it ꨄ don’t forget to suggest something if you have any ideas for me! :p

Itoshi Rin

at first, he thought you were just another lukewarm idiot - but clumsier.

until he got to know you ('ω')

he doesn’t hate your clumsiness, but he doesn’t love it.

he helps you up almost every time you fall, unless you’ve annoyed him

SOMETIMES thinks it’s cute. (always)

washes your clothes if you spill something on yourself

“i’m sorry, Rin!” you’d sob, shaky hands reaching out to pull his sweater off of yourself. he was so kind, and let you wear it - but you spilled coffee all over it!

“it’s alright. are you hurt?” he asked, helping you pull the sweater off. he reached out and pressed a gentle hand to your stomach, feeling your skin warmer that usual - you must’ve burned yourself slightly from the coffee.

the sweater was not his concern anymore, he simply threw it in the hamper and cupped your cheeks.

“you don’t have to be sorry.” he’d say - before hesitating. he was never good with words, so he found it hard to comfort you. “it’s just a sweater, i can get a new one.” he adds, brushing away some hair from your eyes.

you sniffle and nod, looking up at your boyfriend’s loving gaze. “but, it was your favorite-“ you’d start, only for him to cut you off with a gentle kiss.

it did not matter if that sweater was his favorite, he never wants to see you cry over a stupid thing like that again.

whenever he gets you gifts, he asks the person at the register if it’s easy to break

he makes sure to take you places that aren’t that easy to break anything, or fall if you get what i mean.

like, he takes you to places such as movies, (and makes sure you put your drink in his cup holder.) gardens, (where he can hold your hand) but if you want to go anywhere - he’ll take you.

he’s super gentle with you, like he treats you as if you were a glass doll

thinks of you as a flower.

like, he once took you to a botanic garden and said “that flower reminds me of you.” (he got flustered for the next hour after that)

Itoshi Sae

when he first met you, he decided it was best to avoid you because he didn’t want you to fall on him.

that was until you actually did, though

Sae was talking to his manager about something, probably about the whole blue lock thing - when you came crashing into him! he stumbled backwards, with you landing right onto him.

“sorry!” you gasp, quickly getting off of the burgundy haired male, who was laying on the floor with wide eyes. he sat up slowly, groaning softly as he looked up at who it was - and like he guessed, it was you. you were a another soccer player who he had met a few times… one of Oliver’s many exes, probably. “are you okay?” you’d ask, holding a hand out for him to take.

he nodded, taking your hand and standing up. his sharp eyes stared down at you, watching the way you slightly shivered at his gaze. “im fine.” he responds lowly, before continuing the conversation with his manager.

you escaped soon after, getting to the meeting room where you started your interview.

Sae didn’t expect to run into you so much after that, and he certainly didn’t expect to come to enjoy your company - as clumsy as you may be.

he usually buys you things in pairs so if you break one, there’s another that’s newer!

carries all of your bags for you, because he wants to, and because he doesn’t want you to drop them

keeps an eye on you to make sure you won’t trip up. (also because he thinks you’re pretty)

he fights the urge to chuckle SO hard whenever you fall or trip

he either catches you before you fall or helps you up. he will never ever let you stay on the floor. not even if he’s mad at you

if there are a lot of people around the two of you, such as paparazzi or something, he usually keeps an arm around you or holds your hand so you don’t fall in front of them.

if people make fun of you, in person or online, he gets really pissed off

how dare they make fun of his clumsy little lover? only he can do that!

he either threatens them or gets his manager to handle it for him

Shido Ryusei

he finds it adorable!

takes advantage of it all the time, and sometimes says things like “i’ll help you… if you suck my-“

he still helps you up after

when he first met you he thought you were faking it

he piggybacks you and carries you sometimes to make sure you don’t fall (cute!!)

if he feels bad that you fell, he falls down with you to make himself feel included

he likes to call himself you “guardian” even though half the time he’s the one tripping you up and causing you to break things…

he tries to fix the things that you break if he ever sees you sad about it, but he ends up breaking it even more

he sulks if you say it’s bad

sometimes makes you like stand on his feet (?)

for example, he puts your feet onto his and wraps his arms around your waist: kind of making you walk like a puppet?

“come ooon! it’ll be fun〜” he pleads, a grin on his face as his hands reach out to hold onto you. “i won’t hurt ya!” he adds - but the evil glint in his eye tells you otherwise. you simply sigh, and decide to agree with his demands.

“fine…” you huff, letting Shido’s hands wrap around your waist - squeezing the flesh slightly and giggling when you yelp.

“alright, alright!” he giggles, placing you in front of him; your feet on top of his. “now you’ll know what’s like to walk normally.” he winks, wiggling his eyebrows as he starts to walk with you like that.

“hey, hey!” you panic, suddenly not trusting your boyfriend at all. “are you sure this is safe?!”

“i’m very sure!” he responds, before laughing loudly. you’re so cute, getting all scared like that!

he continued to play around with you, like a puppet, until he lost his footing - sending the both of you crashing onto the floor.

he giggled, watching your jaw drop and your pretty eyes widen. you’re so cute, he thinks.

he blamed the fall on you afterwards

he once compared you to Humpty Dumpty because you were sitting on a walks fence and fell off.

Oliver Aiku

he loves your clumsiness too!

thinks your super silly

he helps you up when he feels like it, but finds it cute when you’ve fallen

catches you sometimes…

he usually keeps you close to him so he can make sure you won’t fall or break anything that easily

he buys you shoes without laces so it’s a bit easier to walk around

whenever he takes you shopping, he suggests you wear clothes that are a little short / less loose so it’s easier to move around. but either way, he’s okay with what you wear

he literally always holds your hand or arm

always wants to be around you. “because he wants to make sure you’re not doing anything stupid.”

“where’s y/n?” Aiku would ask his teammate, looking around for his cute lover. “i haven’t seen them since the match finished!” he’d cry.

“dude, you saw them 15 minutes ago… they went to pick up your bag.” Sae would sigh, rubbing his forehead in annoyance.

“oh!” Oliver smiled cheerfully. “how sweet of them!” he’d giggle, cheeks growing redder at the thought of you.

“wait.” Aiku paused, his face flushing pale. “you let them go get my bag?! what if they fall!” he panics, rushing out the door in search of you - only to be greeted with your pretty face, a bruise on your nose.

“my baby!” he cooed, pulling you into a hug.

“he’s so whipped.” Sendo would whisper to Sae, who nodded as they both watched Aiku gush over you.

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crusty-chronicles · 5 months

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I have no idea if this is how u want me requesting but I'm gonna haunt u like a ghost now in ur asks (said with love ❤️) I noticed that u do yu yu hakusho requests which i'm like 🥰 anyways, Kurama and Hiei (already friends) reacting to reader suddenly approaching them and acting like they're their bf bc some guy was trying to hit on em? U can choose if how u wanna write it (headcannon or drabble ❤️)

An: Brief Warnings: Harassment/ unwanted advancements

Kurama 🦊🦊🦊

He didn't have to look to know it was the sound of your footsteps behind him. Your familiar footfalls followed by someone else's.

“Hey, Shuichi! There you are!” You called out.

His human name. It'd made sense considering the both of you had just been let out of school. And as he turned around to address you, he noticed one of your classmates trailing you.

He could hear the frantic heartbeat in your chest as you got closer. Your entire demeanor uncomfortable. Then there was the way your classmates seemed to eye you with an unsettling intensity.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

“You said you were gonna walk me home, remember?”

He never promised you such a thing. But the pleading look in your eyes was enough for him to go along with it. As long as you explained things later.

“Shall we get going then?” He extended his hand towards you to take.

Instead, you'd rushed to his side. Clinging onto his arm for dear life while your classmate seemed to glare. Kurama could feel you shake against him. Fear mingling in with your scent. Then you did something that shocked him.

You'd placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you for being such a great boyfriend.” Putting emphasis on ‘boyfriend.’

But before he could process it, your classmate had snapped.

“Boyfriend??? But Shuichi’s never been interested in anyone before! What do mean he's your boyfriend?!?”

He silenced them with one look. Green eyes flashing an eerie golden in warning.

“I don't recall my personal life being anyone else's business. Now if you'll excuse us.” Kurama shut down, already leading you away.

He made sure you were far enough away before questioning you. Though he had a good feeling about what it was.

“What was that all about?”

So you told him about how your classmate started flirting with you. How, even though you told them you weren't interested, was still adamant about you giving them a chance. Becoming touchy in the process. Before things could escalate any further, you'd spotted Kurama. Coming up with the first excuse you thought of to get your classmate away from you.

Which just so happened to be saying you were already taken.

He wasn't upset with you for using him as a scapegoat. But he did make you promise to walk with him from now on going to school. A protective measure in case your classmate tried to make another move.

And even though he was furious with them for what they did, he wouldn't hurt them. No, he wouldn't stoop that low. But scaring them with a few vines and roots, that he could do.

—-------------

Hiei ⚔️⚔️⚔️

The situation you were in at the moment wasn't a favorable one. For starters, you were a human on an island surrounded by demons. Only being here to cheer on your friends fight. Then there was the fact that you had gotten separated from Botan and the rest of the girls. And now, a demon was currently salivating over you.

“Haven't you heard? We demons take what we want.” After trying to flirt with you for the past thirty minutes, it had resorted to threatening you.

Saying since you clearly didn't have a ‘mate’, you were fair game. It made you sick. Looking for any way out for your safety. Then you saw it. A flash of black hair with a spot of white.

“Hiei!” You called out.

He paused his movements and turned around. Surprised to see you separated from the rest. Then his surprise turned into annoyance. Of course you'd managed to get separated, you always were careless.

He'd barely registered the demon looming over you until you spoke.

“We're mates, right?” You asked.

His first response was to quickly shoot that idea down. A ‘hell no’ on the tip of his tongue. But there was a primal fear in your eyes when he looked closer. And that was when he noticed the other demon. Its hand wrapped tightly around your arm to the point of bruising.

Knowing you'd never ask him something like that unless you had a good reason. This, would be a very good reason considering you weren't a fighter able to take care of yourself.

“It would appear so.”

The demon quickly let go of you and scampered away with a glare. But not before Hiei could commit its face to memory just in case.

He startled at the feeling of your arms wrapping around him. Your body trembling along with your voice.

“Thank you.” you whispered.

He gave a hum before lightly pushing you away.

“If that oaf gets near you again, let me know and I'll handle him personally.” Because while Hiei could've ended it's life right then and there, he didn't want to panic you further.

But that didn't mean he'd let that demon go a second time if he ever came across it again.

#yu yu hakusho x reader #kurama yu yu hakusho #hiei yu yu hakusho #hiei x reader #yyh hiei #hiei jaganshi #kurama x reader #yoko kurama #shuichi minamino

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chrysanthemum9484 · 10 months

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DpXDc au where Danny by luck be it good or bad becomes the city spirit of Gotham.

He can leave the city and all but it hurts him due to unbelievable levels of homesickness. Being near the bats whenever he leaves helps a bit.

The bats and birds inherit some abilities which help with stealth, some slight increase in physical prowess, slight gliding and immortality level of healing factor in Gotham. Thankfully Constantine notices and explains it.

Danny always knows everything about Gotham. From people's personal history to their location and current activities.

Gotham is beyond cursed but what the bats are doing weakens the curses bit by bit. They are still a burden though.

Danny has conned the conman Constantine himself into keeping an eye on the curses too and to try remove any of them completely once they feel weak enough. No the bats and birds don't know. Yes they are beyond confused once the Joker out of the blue turns sane and gets put on death row.

Alfred somehow gets cursed into immorality and no one is touching that curse.

Unemployment percentage lowers and lowers slowly but steadily and at some point the batfam have no more goons and loons to fight. Red Hood's goons are registered as employed the very moment they get downgraded to street kid babysitters and worker ladies bodyguards because suddenly there are no more drugs shipped in Gotham.

So out of boredom the batfam annoyed Poison Ivy into creating a forest around half of Gotham, and a fruit and vegetable garden around the other half of Gotham and the most beautiful botanical garden in the center of Gotham.

That leads to lessening pollution, food prices and crime rate being half of what it used to be.

At this point the batfam are annoying their villains to find more legal ways to do what they want to do out of pure boredom. After all there is one theft tried a month at most, the villains have no goons, the Joker is dead and Ivy and Harley are happily tending to lord knows how many acres of land, there are no drug deals to take down, kids and ladies are safer than ever in Gotham and Tim is getting to sleep for 4 hours a day!

The bats create a show for the Riddler to host. He gets to ask all of his riddles and people are actually engaged and enjoying themselves!

Suddenly Red Robin invades Mr. Freeze's Lab, muttering about getting too much sleep and starts working on making a serum to save Nora Fries. And all Mr. Freeze can do is watch and wonder if Red Robin has lost his marbles as he effortlessly heals his wife.

Waylon Jones says 'fuck it' and joins Ivy and Harley and the gothamites slowly start treating him like a person.

Black mask hisses like a cat and leaves permanently with Danny chasing him out with an ecto-broom.

Danny helps Harvey Dent find healthier copying mechanisms.

Scarecrow moves to Amity Park and sets up shop there. Enough said.

And so on and so on.

Eventually Gotham becomes a gothic sunshine city and the batfam are bored to death aside from superhero club Things and Tim is complaining about having a regular human sleep schedule.

Danny is a happy little noodle man due to lack of curses weighting on him.

#chrysanthemum9484 #danny phantom #dpxdc #chrysanthemum writes #danny fenton #batman #dcxdp #batfam #gotham city spirit danny au

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lancermylove · 9 months

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First Kiss (HC)

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland

Pairing: Dorm leaders x gn!Reader

Warning: None

Prompt: Where and how you have your first kiss with him.

———————————————

The two of you were in the botanical garden, and while Leona slept on the grass, you studied his handsome features.

To get a better look at him, you leaned your face close to his, assuming he was in deep sleep. The next moment, you felt his hand on the back of your head, and his eyes shot open.

Before you could register what was happening, Leona pushed your head down and met your lips.

His kiss was on the hungrier side, but there was a gentleness to it as well.

He didn't break the kiss until you were out of breath.

Leona stared into your eyes and smirked. "Is that what you were hopin' for, herbivore? Don't go starin' at men like that."

You and Malleus were out on a night walk through the area around Ramshakle dorm.

You were talking about your favorite topic, and Malleus quietly noted the fire in your eyes and the passion in your voice. He thought you looked adorable and couldn't control himself.

The prince stopped walking, wrapped an arm around your waist, turned you around, and gently pulled you closer to him.

Your eyes widened when you felt his soft lips pressed against yours. Malleus' eyes were open as he didn't want to miss a single expression on your face.

His kiss was gentle but held passion.

He didn't kiss you for too long as Malleus didn't want you to run out of breath.

After pulling away, he smirked playfully. "You are adorable."

Riddle and you sat in Heartslabyul's garden, enjoying a freshly baked Strawberry Tart while you talked about how Ace and Deuce were giving you a hard time as usual.

You were so focused on ranting that you didn't focus on how you ate the tart.

At first, Riddle frowned slightly when he saw the cream from the tart smear on your lips. He thought about reaching over with a napkin and wiping it for you, but that would be a waste of good cream.

So, Riddle leaned over the table and pressed his lips softly against yours, using the tip of his tongue to lick the cream off your lips.

You immediately froze, but Riddle broke the kiss quickly. "(Y/n), you should not eat so-"

He was about to lecture you but stopped when he realized what he had just done.

Riddle's face turned bright red, and he quickly covered his mouth before turning his face away from you. He dearly hoped that none of his dorm members saw that.

Azul heard you giggling with the twins from his office. He couldn't understand why you liked them so much, but out of curiosity, he walked out of his office to hear your conversation.

Upon seeing Azul's unhappy expression, Jade excused himself from there, dragging Floyd along with him.

You turned to look at Azul, who was half glaring at you, and before you could say anything, he took hold of your chin and pressed his lips against yours.

His kiss was intense and passionate.

He didn't release you until you were out of breath.

Azul looked into your eyes with his face still close to you and whispered sharply. "Stay away from them. They are dangerous."

Before you could react, he turned his back to you and disappeared into his office.

As you scanned the beautiful desert of Scarabia, Kalim sat behind you and rested his chin on your shoulder. You assumed he was also taking in the marvelous view, but Kalim studied your face with a soft smile.

"(Y/n)."

When Kalim called your name in the sweetest voice possible, you turned your head towards him. In the next moment, you felt his lips pressed against yours.

His kiss was playful and sweet.

Kalim didn't kiss you for long, but it was enough to make your heart race out of control.

After he pulled away, Kalim rested his chin on your shoulder again with a wide smile. "(Y/n), I like you a lot and can't wait to introduce you to my family."

Vil was doing your hair for the special NRC event in the evening. When he stepped in front of you to get a better look at how the hairstyle came out, Vil saw you looking at him with admiration.

He tried not to focus on your expression, but when you gave him a cute smile, Vil couldn't resist.

He looked into your eyes, hooked one finger under your chin to tilt your head up, and captured your lips in his.

His kiss was soft and romantic.

Vil pulled away before you ran out of breath.

He whispered in a smooth and alluring voice, "If you continue to look at me like that, you shall be in more danger than you realize."

You cheered Idia on as he played a PVP game. Though he wasn't a fan of loud noise, he didn't mind you cheering him on.

It didn't take long for Idia to win, and the moment he did, you threw your arms around him and gave him a congratulatory hug.

Idia froze, his cheeks and hair turning red, but when he saw how close your face was to his, he was drawn to you.

He leaned closer to you and pressed his lips against yours.

Idia's kiss was more of a quick peck, but it was enough to convey his feelings for you.

As you stared at him in shock, Idia pulled his hood over his face so he could hide his embarrassment.

———————————————

➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2]

➣ Main Masterlist

➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed

#twisted wonderland #leona kingscholar #twst leona #malleus draconia #twst malleus #riddle rosehearts #twst riddle #azul ashengrotto #twst azul #vil schoenheit #twst vil #kalim al asim #twst kalim #idia shroud #twst idia #twst

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horsentale · 9 months

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historicalbookimages · 7 days

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🌅 Edwards's botanical register. London: James Ridgway, 1829-1847.

#biodiversity #old books #nature

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hexonthepeach · 2 months

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a gentle tongue breaketh the bone | 27: wild

pairing: fem hybrid fox omega!reader/hybrid Alpha!nct 127

tags: reverse harem, non-traditional omegaverse hybrid! cyberpunk au, pack dynamics, polyamory, slowburn/slowbuild, angst & hurt/comfort, heavy content warnings inc. torture, graphic violence, suicidal ideation, explicit sexual content

summary: the year is 2127. decades of eugenics and warfare have led to the rise of designated populations: the ruler Alphas and their rare, prized omegas sequestered from the Beta population. in the aftermath of the War of the Two Tigers, New Goryeo ushers in an Imperial dynasty determined not by birthright but by the alliance of the Syndicate’s clancorps to choose the best pack of your generation. you are destined to take your place within the Imperial harem as a queen, and–perhaps–Imperatrix herself

but you have a secret, written into your skin and bones–one that could easily kill you, depending on who finds it out

ten years ago you chose your Alpha and their pack in a fateful meeting

now, you must make them choose you

[masterlist & glossary] [read on AO3] [26: fallen]

wc: 7.3k

warnings: action violence, mild omega slander

recommended listening: box - nct dream (truly enjoying this ep)

Your face is buried in a strange texture, the scent even more unimaginable. Dirt–real and rich as a forest floor, scattered with dead leaves and flakes of bark. Rot and green and something carbonized as well, a scent map that transports you back a decade and a half, hundreds of clicks due north on the 127th meridian.

Home.

It can’t be. This dream is too real–trees rising on either side, the chittering of insects and birds echoing from their tops, the moon centered above beyond a green haze of aurora–

No, you think. That shifting light is too distinct in its pattern, too geometrical to be a natural phenomenon. Your head throbs as you slowly register the familiar bright rectangles of color visible through the leafy canopy, the sound-dampened rumble of voices.

“Welcome back to the main event. As our guests return to their seats from the intermission let’s set the scene. Tonight we have a very special stage, a little corner of the Wild carefully transplanted for your entertainment.”

The announcement through a speaker sounds underwater, but Key’s voice is unmistakeable.

You’re back in the arena. But that’s also impossible–there’s no way the breadth of this space could fit even in that huge room. This is something different. A botanical garden? A zoo? Enclosed, you think, much warmer and damper than the Neo Seoul night you’d shivered against earlier on the rooftop.

“For the safety of our esteemed guests we have transported our participants in tonight’s death match to a confidential location, to demonstrate the resources granted to us by our newest corporate sponsor, Zhirafa Technical Manufacturing.”

Zhirafa? The name has no meaning to you.

“This display of our Park clan ally’s newest offerings for private and public security celebrate their new investiture to our NSMP response teams. Let’s hear a few words from our sponsors.”

You pick yourself up, tripping on the ridiculous train of your gown, shaking a small storm of leaf litter free. Your slippers are gone, feet deadened by cold and inactivity, coming back to life with your pacing around the opening in the forest.

“Help!” you shout.

You hear your voice echo in the vast structure beneath the music of some distant advertisement, muffled by the dense trees. Based on the autocar-thickness of the trunks and their building-tall height this isn't new growth–this must have been here for years. That the treetops haven’t broken through whatever is containing them overhead is a testament to how well-architected it is against it.

“The classic Savannah line has been modernized for Neo Seoul’s most prescient threat: the cyber-fitted feral alpha. Tonight’s demonstration is proof that in the war of organic and robotic, the apex predator will always be the one that can’t be killed.”

The music swells above you, scored to a video you can’t see.

This is where real fear finds you, remembering anthems played in the distance over speakers. The constant chatter of gunfire, the arc of rockets overhead. You taste metal and gunpowder just the same. Kicking at the ground with your bare feet displaces weathered shell casings and bits of exploded plastic beneath the leaves.

There’s no way you’ve been transported North. It would take days, not minutes. They don’t even know you’re gone if this stupid game was proceeding with you at its heart.

No, it dawns on you. This must be an NSMR training ground.

You knew them best from the melos, places where new recruits from Seoul had trained to fight against Neo-Manchukoan guerilla forces, acting out their deaths before inevitably meeting them in the Wild.

You have to alert the audience somehow–get out before the event begins. Even if you don’t have a mic and tracker there’s the familiar low-register buzz of drones overhead, you just have to get the attention of one.

“Is anyone out there?” Your voice echoes a little less, the artificiality of the soundscape revealed in how the birdsong and insects continue unphased.

There is something–though–the rustle of leaves nearby that makes you twist around. Your ears swivel towards the noise, hunching low out of instinct and searching for something to use as a weapon.

“No more surprises, please,” you speak without saying, backing away from the unnatural gleam of blue-white in the thicket.

[Present identification, citizen.]

The voice is electronic and uncanny, different from your kidnapper’s in being devoid of any humanity at all.

“I’m not a citizen,” you say, calmly, “I’m Lee ____, born–”

There’s a metal-on-metal sound, pneumatics hissing as the thing breaks free of the bushes, four-legged and bristling with attachments of dull chrome.

The robotic construct is built like and yet unlike any large cat you’ve ever witnessed–larger than Johnny in his original form. It’s surprisingly smooth in its movements despite its clunky profile, its metal claws and chain-like tail just as ridiculous additions as the grenade launcher fixed to its back.

[Scanning] the drone says, giving you the grace of a few moments to keep searching for a weapon as a white net of light is projected from the thin rectangle of its eyeline.

You think for a moment you might have made it before the scanner pulses from white to red, metal jaw opening wide, fangs sharp past the light.

[Level 3 security protocol in effect. Unknown intruder detected. Countdown T-10 to detainment. Do not attempt to flee.]

Terror rushes through you, animal brain screaming to bolt while your rational self tells you to hold, to not give the drone a reason to chase you. It’s absurd, treating an artificial creature as having an instinct but a step to the side is answered by a mirror-like movement.

“Is there anyone there?” you plead. “I was abducted here. Get me out.”

[6 . . . 5 . . . 4 . . .] the impartial countdown continues.

“Nine hells,” you mutter, ripping off your outer robe and approximating the stance of a matador with an angry bull as you begin to back away.

You don’t have experience with these kinds of machines but you understand programmed intelligence–the limitations are cartoonishly absurd no matter how many years of advancement have tried to make them as reactive as a human mind.

[ 3 . . . 2 . . . Engaging protocol.]

You wait until the drone lunges at you, wait longer to watch it break to slam its stun-paneled flank sparking from conduced energy, before throwing the swatch of weighted fabric towards it.

You have seconds of its head and body being covered to turn and bolt, path of retreat already erratic before you glimpse a red-shaded observation camera in front of you, the blink of another–

It’s visible for an instant ahead of colliding with cold metal and 50,000 volts pulsing through you in a heartbeat.

You can’t even scream.

Your body seizes and rolls across the ground–stunned. Heavy thuds hit the earth around you as the drones close in, mechanisms grinding and whirring. One of those wicked three-pronged paws bears down on your chest before you can curl away, pinning you to the earth.

[Cease resisting, citizen.] the drone’s pre-programmed voice is oddly calm. [Further resistance will be met with deadly force, comply until additional units can be engaged.]

“Fuck . . . you . . .” you wheeze with the remaining air from your lungs, screaming once you’re able to pull in air. “Get OFF OF ME!”

Something–someone–rumbles overhead, guttural and loud.

The drones attention on you breaks, met with a flash of chrome as the unoccupied Savannah Panther darts up the side of the nearest tree. It’s absurd watching that stupid thing claw the wood uselessly, unable to fight the pull of gravity on its dense chassis.

The shadow above takes advantage of its struggle, attacking as the drone is sliding down, before its hind paws can hit earth again.

The impact shakes the ground, metal screeching as black furred arms tear the drone’s jaw from its skull with barely any give, a fluid movement stabbing the jagged metal deep into its visor. Sparks fly from the downed Panther, unable to see but further assaulted by that shard pulled out and dug into its neck.

Your own Panther makes the choice between continuing to hold you down and dealing with the more obvious threat–suddenly you’re free. You twist in the soil against the awful pain in your chest, struggling to get up and finding the exposed back of the predator creeping towards your savior.

Without thinking you pounce, climbing on the back of that wretched thing.

You have to hold on for dear life as the drone drops and rolls you both, limbs and head rotating to try and dislodge you. You grasp the cannon-like protuberance from its back, claws digging into the exposed pneumatics at its base to disable its hindquarters before several hundred kilos of angry robot can buck you off.

“Why don’t you just self-destruct–” you hiss, tearing your hands raw hooking into the gaps of its plating for its more-fragile innards. A rotor dies, the cat stumbling as you feel the launcher under your chest whir into life.

[PleaaAAAse comp comp comp–]

The electronic voice jitters into intelligible speech as you rip another cable or hose–some snakelike thing spewing gas in your hand, the entire forest floor blinking red from the malfunctioning unit as the launcher fires.

You brace yourself against an explosion–realizing that the cannon lacks compression and ignition when there’s a pop and the grenade rolls to the ground, barely out of range. The sight of that palm-sized canister makes your entire body go cold, fear breaking your fight into flashes of horror.

Faded green writing on a metal can, leaves in a circle. Biotechnica.

“It’s a bomb, eomma?” you ask.

“Spring,” your mother corrects. “Bom, not bomb. But yes, a bomb.”

She pulls the seedling blooming from the torn canister, showing you the remaining markings in English.

“Nothing is burning. Where did everyone go?”

You’d looked around you at the new growth, strange for it being in the middle of what had once been a bustling refugee market. No people remain–wrecked stalls enveloped in fresh herbs and blooms out of season, bamboo and fruit trees bursting through the cracked pavement of the train station.

“A long time ago someone predicted the planet would go silent, if we kept destroying and polluting it.” Your mother says. “Men made this to try and stop it.”

You accidentally kick something at your feet–a dense twisting of vines and mushrooms that appears to be vaguely human-shaped, like someone curled onto their side. Spores rise up into the cold winter light, like specks of gold.

“When you see this, don’t touch it, don’t even move towards it, ____, just . . .”

“RUN!” you scream your order, looking up to see that dark-furred hybrid bash its opponent drone a final time into the shuddering, splintered remains of a tree trunk.

You can make it, you can get out of here, both of you–

Crunch.

The sound is more horrible than the pain with the adrenaline rushing through you, metal jaws closed on the back of your thigh gripping you in place and pulling you facedown into the dirt.

You fight against the stuttering hold, feeling cloth and muscle shred between twin fangs, crawling towards the protector who’d taken your instruction literally, but towards you, not away–kicking something just past your head–

The explosion compresses the air inward before blowing it out, the force of its blast throwing you free and against the nearest tree.

You know it’s not an incendiary grenade. There’s no red flash or the heat of fire–no sound except the ringing in your ears from the sonic boom.

Your vision streaks with green-yellow, a swirl of dust washing over you and that familiar smell . . . something like the rain after a drought. It's burning so deep with each lungful you can only cough as the scent fills your lungs and nostrils, trying to get it out.

Through misty eyes you see the thing beside you, booting back to life, cat-like jaw working beneath its blinded visual sensor. The battered Panther drone picks itself up from newly-formed moss and plant-life, red lights blinking on its chassis casting the newly grown meadow in shades of horror. You claw weakly at the grass, cringing away from the metal claws.

And then, a roar–

–not from the drone, but him.

He’s so real and loud it breaks past the damaged muffle of the explosion to resonate within you, that black belly and the ghost of its weight over you so familiar it hurts more than the oozing, aching awfulness in your leg or the internal damage from your pathetic fight.

You’re back in that abandoned building, terrified and dying as Taeil and Yuta try to keep you amongst the living, your unlikely savior a thing with no resemblance of the man buried within.

It’s not an easy fight for him, at least, not with the Panther drone recognizing the threat of 1500 PSI of bite force in the jaw closing around its armored neck. The cats rise in a two-legged, clawing grapple, the earth drumming beneath you with each stomp of claws beside your face, metal and organic, dirt and contagion blinding you as you shrink away.

Not a thing, no. Your mate.

“Youngho,” you whisper, realizing too late it's the wrong time–the jaguar pausing for a moment in its battle to twist around towards you, yowling when metal claws rake across his thick black hide.

“Left side,” you gasp. “Wires, left side.”

The jaguar hears you, at least in the backwards turn of those gold-dusted ears. He uses the unbalanced weight of the construct against it, climbing atop it the way you had, but much more elegantly, rolled with less visible damage.

Sparks fly as he tests each weakness with yellow-white teeth embedding in the metal and synth plating, ripping chunks free until the repeating electronic scream of that thing dies, the grenade launcher in its back unable to fire with the critical point of information cut clean.

It drops to the shifting ground, just so much scrap. Leaves twine around it, growing slowly at least, shoots erupting through a metal carcass.

The flesh-and-blood cat roars over its frame, triumphant, clawing and kicking roots over its destroyed corpse. He’s unaware of the danger, only visible to you as the self-destruct cycle begins, numbers streaking across the lit visor screen where its eyes should be.

“Run,” you say, having already given up, cheek pressed into the familiar scent of home.

Jaws close on your back, snagged in the fabric, picking you up as he drags you away like just another kill. You make it as far as the brush, leaves ripping at your face, before the world explodes again.

This time in fire.

Everything about this entire ceremony-turned-circus has been sucking him down into the last point of control but this is the final straw on the camel’s back. Mark is incensed, claws out without any conscious control to hide them.

He’s starting to understand what Johnny had said about it hurting every time, that after a while the pain of them piercing the skin barely registers. The constant burn in his ears and his spine is more worrisome.

“We need to speak to the Crown Prince,” he says, shoving Haechan back when he slithers up beside him. The younger Canid is on a warpath, having already chucked the last Kim attache’s tablet into his face so hard it knocked him unconscious.

“Against the rules.” The servant seems to be enjoying the experience of saying no to their ragtag Nyctos contingent–all four of them with Renjun limping beside him, supported by Taeil. Yangyang had already been transported to one of the medical centers, unable to be roused from the stun that had crashed his system while Yuta went to security to investigate the feeds.

The man’s eyes keep flicking up between a personal roster of wagers and the modified stage behind them with its ghostly phantoms of trees and lights in the 360 degree model of the next arena.

The fight should have already started a long time ago, but Key has stopped announcing anything besides advertisements, agitated murmurs in the crowd revealing that something is deeply wrong beyond the obvious absence.

This ends now, Mark thinks. If they want their bets and bloodsport it can wait.

“Tell him the Princess Consort has been kidnapped,” he finds himself saying, earning the immediate attention of the men–no, the buzzards–flocking around his cousin and pack leader. They look down on them from the vantage of their booth, Choi Siwon laughing.

“Impossible,” Elder Bang says, leaning over the edge as he pokes slowly at his agent. “This building is secure.”

“We were attacked by an unknown assailant, a solo,” Renjun reports, tail whipping behind him. “Check the security footage in the west side service corridors.”

“Did you see her taken?” That gray-haired old doctor makes his way down, AR glasses scrolling with information. Mark’s nose wrinkles at the lavender-like scent of the tobacco on him, something oily and metallic underneath.

“No,” Renjun says. “They knocked me out before I could go after her–”

“Contusions, skull fracture–” he assesses the fox, signaling to Duke Kim to call for additional medical support and security.

“We’ll send a team to the site and investigate,” he says to the Duke. “Quietly. We don’t want anyone panicking.”

“We can’t track her without an agent or a biochip,” Mark says. “We’ll need to check all exits–”

“First and foremost, keep quiet, we don’t need to raise an alarm,” Duke Kim says. “Is the Tenth Prince secure?”

Mark gestures towards the illuminated royal box, frustrated already with the lack of response. “Does it look like he’s missing?”

“Check yourself, Lee.” His uncle-by-law threatens, fixating on Renjun with a measured look of disgust. “You’ll watch your tongue or we'll let this fall on your heads.”

Mark immediately feels the surge of anger that’s been so quick to strike aflame these past few days–the recognition that another is attempting to dominate his Alpha.

“This is on your security, not mine,” he warns, eyes flashing up past the crowded entrance to the booth. “I will speak with our pack lead–”

“He’s occupied,” Elder Park joins them on the stairwell, looking entirely unsurprised by the news. “You’ll report to me.”

Mark takes one look at his smug, modded face and makes the decision to breach the fifteen-foot gap between the outer arena floor and the heavily-decorated exterior of the Syndicate booth, fuck formality.

He’s been itching to use his new claws–wishes he had a tail to make scaling the wall less awkward.

The Syndicate’s security response is immediate in the barrels of several guns aimed at him by the time he peers over the ledge, teeth gritted against the ache deep in his shoulder as his boots skid on carved wood.

“What in nine hells,” Taeyong stands along with a number of Syndicate guests, disrupting an entire table of drinks, credit chips scattering.

Mark is grateful when he reaches out to take his arm, sheathing the claws digging into Taeyong’s red military jacket as he pulls him over. “What are you doing?”

“____ is missing,” Mark hisses, heart pounding in his chest, turning between the multiple barrels pointed at them both, moving to guard his cousin despite knowing they’re treating him as the threat. “They almost killed Liu, too.”

“Stand down.” The Crown Prince is–mostly–himself, though he’s slurring heavily and reeking of liquor. He looks down at Duke Kim, brows lowered, until the elder gestures dismissively for security to lower their weapons.

“We’ve already deployed a team to search for her–”

“And I’ve got our NSMP representative on it. The whole building should be put on lockdown–” Mark begins.

“Are you sure that’s wise?” Choi asks, moving to Taeyong’s side. “We don’t need Ten–the Imperial contingent finding out.”

“Relax,” Elder Bang adds. “That one is still safe in his box with his guards.”

“Right,” Park agrees. “She’s probably still in the building. Best to continue with the event and track her down before that freak can find out she’s given him the slip. We’d never hear the end of it.”

Duke Kim sidles over to their meeting, tablet in hand. “Entrance scans are negative. She’s still in the building. Reinholdt will find her.”

“See?” Taeyong pats Mark on the shoulder, handing him a drink that hasn’t been overturned. “Our Princess will be fine. We were just celebrating the good news, you should join us.”

There’s a familiar drumbeat on his shoulder as his cousin and pack leader embraces him one-armed, as the Syndicate heads and their entourage of cronies and Lottery escorts raise their glasses in a toast Mark refuses to participate in.

Mark doesn’t even realize he’s being signaled, distracted by the sheer number of recognizable enemies in this booth–-cold eyes fixated on him. Faces his mother had made him memorize, when they’d first been taken hostage.

“Such a smart boy,” she’d said, inspecting his homework, the artificial breeze of the Dome ruffling the pages in her manicured hands. “You still have so much trouble with your English spelling. Your father did, too.”

It had struck him that it was a lie, even then at twelve years old, with the books he’d grown up with in multiple languages in his father’s study–the ones his mother never seemed to want to read for herself or him besides Scripture. None of them, here, now in the Palace.

“You don’t have to learn any of that nonsense, precious child. Just learn the codes. Learn how to speak the language of the enemy,” she’d said.

O-K-A-S, is what Taeyong is saying in code. Okay, wait. Over and over again.

"Our clan finally has a 4th gen representative," Taeyong says aloud, proudly. "Reinholdt will do a determination of the hereditary profile once we've wrapped."

Mark pulls away from that repeated tap on his shoulder, letting his real anger out.

“Is that all you care about? Would it kill you to show some concern for her?”

He ignores the familiar bark of Haechan arguing with a guard below to maintain eye contact, watching Taeyong’s ruddy eyes blink at him, a lazy smile sliding across his mouth.

“C’mon Mark. Don’t be like that,” the Vulpine says, leaning in to whisper loudly in his ear. “Even if you didn't get a chance the kit's still your family–”

Mark grabs him by his jacket front, surprised by how easy it is to handle his cousin, realizing too late how drunk he is. Doyoung’s absence is worse than he’d ever imagined.

“She was raped,” he spits out.

Taeyong laughs in his face, quickly joined by the rest of the booth. Choi moves to intervene, waved off by the Crown Prince.

“That’s just omegas, right?” Taeyong drawls. “Always asking for it.”

More laughter. He knows his cousin isn’t like this–doesn’t believe any of the lies about his own designation–but it still makes him sick to acknowledge the words coming out of his mouth. For the first time in his entire life, the brother he’s chosen, the one he’d risked his life and limb for, is unrecognizably ugly.

“Did you take advantage of her, too?” Mark asks, tone deadly.

“She begged me for it.” Taeyong says with a shrug, earning more of a response from the corpos and their escorts. Mark lets him go, disgusted.

Taeyong turns to their audience, lifting his glass. “You’ll forgive my cousin, he’s never had the pleasure–”

“Fuck you,” Mark says, waiting only as long as it takes for Taeyong to turn back to wink at him before punching him across the jaw.

Fresh shoots spring from the ground, stringy tendrils catching at your skin and blossoming into flowers crushed under your weight as you’re dragged away.

Buried deep–a part of you kicks and screams and fights to return to it, to be enveloped within the decomposition of the environment and recreated as something new. Only your fox would remain, flesh melted down to the bones, the human side of you disappearing into the new forest.

But, no. You have to fight back. Those despicable bastards had brought the Wild to Neo Seoul.

Not just the aesthetic sensibility of it but the bioterrorist weapons used in the war, the bombs that melted human flesh into raw organic material, feeding new life. You’d been exposed before–thankfully never close enough to alter you fully.

It wouldn’t kill you–no, but contamination would pull you back to the animal you are. You might not be able to shift, not with your therapy, but you'd be in jimseung.

Even now your fox twists and lashes out with her claws, rending flesh, feeling it in your chest—your neck–as you’re dropped to the earth.

The rage makes you incandescent, fur rippling ruddy and black across your arms as you sneeze and paw at your face, half-expecting to find the fox’s snout where your nose remains as human as ever.

You’re far enough away from the strike zone, you hope. You might be able to fight the influence of the contaminant but an Alpha without anti-shift doesn’t stand a chance.

Indeed, Johnny has reverted past the point of communication, the jaguar’s movements purely animal. You try to drag yourself away as he circles you, chin pulled in with a display of dominance. His mouth is open wide, giant teeth exposed as he tastes your scent.

You bare your own canines and growl a warning. Back off.

The jaguar vocalizes in answer, a chuff almost like a laugh. Then he’s rolling you with his massive head and paws as he greets you with unadulterated excitement. When you mewl out in pain he freezes, tongue mid-swipe over your face, dropping down to sniff at your chest and the bloody wound on your thigh.

You yelp when he rips at the torn skirt with his teeth, having a moment of panic at the thought of him deciding you taste good enough to eat and pushing back on the cat’s heavy brow. His orange eyes flick up at you, gently cleaning away the drying blood and dirt as he blinks slowly at you.

At least he doesn’t seem to think you’re food. You’re being treated like a kit, pushed down by a paw when you try to get back up, all so he can continue grooming you. You roll on your back in submission, breath sucking in at the pain in your chest.

“You still in there?” you ask, weakly.

If the Syndicate is watching it would be dangerous to order him again but you know if you don’t he’s going to lick the top layers of your dermis off trying to treat the bone-deep wound.

He rumbles like an engine in answer.

“Come out,” you whisper your order.

You feel him change back, heat and moisture roiling over you from the release of mass and energy. He lifts up from your legs in a daze, eyes still bright with his cat.

“You’re safe,” he says, lisping a bit with the lingering changes to his teeth.

“Neither of us are safe here, you fool,” you scold him, coughing at the dryness in your throat. “You most of all. You were supposed to run away, not into it.”

You roll to your side to spit out pollen-yellow saliva, trying to ignore the bloom of fungal spores and ground cover from the thick wad.

“Don’t even get a ‘thanks’,” Johnny retches a little, coughing up his own lungful of goo. “What in the hell is this stuff–?”

“Spring gas. Jimseung poison,” you say. Of course he’d never encountered these bombs, as far as you knew he’d never made it that far North. “They must have wanted you to fight feral.”

“How are we–”

“We were lucky,” you say, tiredly, testing your leg and crumpling back to the ground. Somehow he’s managed to catch you by the ankle, the both of you wheezing as you succumb to the effects, unable to fight against him as he pulls himself over you.

“It’s old ammo–probably degraded,” you explain to distract yourself from the press of his body. “High enough heat can burn it off–”

“You’re here.” The way he whispers the words tugs on your heart, all dreamy and wistful.

You don’t acknowledge it. “Yes, I’m here. I can keep you out of jimseung, I think. We’d have to stay together–”

“You’re here,” he repeats, forehead pressing yours as he rubs his nose against yours. “My precious little kit.”

You push on his shoulder where the echo of his rosettes are burnt black into his golden skin, muddying his re-emerging tattoos.

“Don’t you get it, you idiot? You’re in danger, they want to kill you–”

“So I should be thanking you,” he says, drowsily, looking down at you with unfiltered affection. “For saving me.”

Johnny is mostly human–eyes dilated so wide only a thin ring of honey-colored iris remains. His ears and hands have remained changed, tail swatting at the air beyond the clean lines of his naked body, fur still visible where his hair grows naturally.

You know he’s struggling against his cat, a feeling like fire racing over his skin as he finds the only therapy available. You’re lifted up bodily with a cry, going limp as his face buries in your neck and rapid breaths douse your shoulder. Claws prick and unprick through your clothing where he’s wrapped completely around you, nuzzling against your racing pulse.

“God, I missed you,” he says. “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

He folds down with you still at his mercy, heartbeat slowing marginally as your pheromones bring him to a calmer state.

“Stop making that godawful noise,” you protest, wriggling in his grasp.

“You don’t like it?” That only spurs him on more, licking at your neck as you cry out, fists uselessly pressed to his bare chest. Johnny rumbles in contentment as he rubs his cheek over and over again against you protectively. As much as you try to wrest free he holds on to you tighter, unable to get enough. He's warm and tender–all things unwelcome in this place.

“Get off of me, you pig!” you bark. You can’t order him here, can’t reveal anything that might compromise you both, but you can still try to extricate yourself from what feels like a more dangerous situation than the one you’ve just fled. This isn’t the time or place for an intimate moment.

Johnny lets you go. You only make it a few inches, pushed down face-first into the soft leaf litter and further assailed by searching hands over your leg. His touch sparks a new flame through the ache, your fox desperate for him to continue comforting you physically.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Feel like I was hit by a truck,” you groan, inhaling sharp when his tongue traces your oozing wounds again. “Stop, please.”

“You do taste different,” he murmurs, idiot’s grin in his voice. “Sweeter, like candy.”

“If you don’t stop this nonsense I’ll make it so you can’t speak, again,” you say over your shoulder. You can’t let this continue, not with your body’s reaction to this much-longed-for care.

The unspoken threat carries through–he eases off of you, still straddling you. He leans down to nudge the side of your face with his nose. The intimacy has you more dizzy than the contamination, body surging up unwillingly as your tail swats between you.

“Even with everything I’m so glad you’re here,” he says, lips trailing over the side of your face. Your heart is racing, the world blurring beyond as you avoid kissing him back, eyes clenched shut against his attention.

“My beautiful little kit,” he murmurs. “When we get out of here I'll take care of you so good. Make you a nest just right for you to–”

“How much blood did you lose?” you ask, too aware of the hot drip of it from his side.

“‘M fine,” he says, licking at your ear. “Felt like dying not knowing you were alright.”

You are most certainly not alright. You struggle to turn over beneath him, meeting him with your mouth against his jawline.

“Johnny,” you say. “We’re being watched.”

“They know who you belong to.” He’s high as a kite, you realize–probably more on pheromones than the gas. It’s so incredibly stupid considering the circumstances but then so is everything about this trial. He seems to realize it as well as something passes over him, a moment of consciousness.

“Was this part of your plan?”

“No! What plan?!” you put a hand to his mouth as he smirks down at you.

“Someone dumped me here to complicate this knowing you'd be dosed,” you whisper as quietly as you can, shoving at the blanket of his wide shoulders. “But it's good. If I wasn’t . . .”

You both know he wouldn’t be here at all–just the jaguar. You think the smallest push would send him reeling back into his true form, without even a sliver of the humanity he’d spent years learning how to keep surfaced while in full shift.

“That doesn’t matter,” he says, shaking his head. “We'll get you to safety, we can’t risk any harm to–”

“We can’t risk them seeing you feral, or fully shifted,” you deflect. “We just need to find Jae–”

Johnny hisses, not as comical as it should be with the rage you can see twisting his expression. You instinctively snarl back, scratching at his shoulder. It snaps him out of it, retreating in an instant, looking as hurt as if you’d yanked his tail.

“Control yourself,” you say, scuttling back, testing your injured leg. “He’s not your enemy. Who knows how many more of those things are out there. We need to work together.”

“He’s not taking you. Over my dead body,” Johnny says. It’s really a wasted effort to try to speak to him with the Alpha in charge, his body movements whiplike as he listens for a threat, nose twitching against the thick smoke from the embers of the explosion drifting in your direction.

“You’re mine, I told him you were mine–”

You try a different tactic, placing your palm in his wild hair to calm him. It works like a charm, his shoulders rounding as he leans into the touch and butts his head against your chest.

“Of course I’m yours,” you soothe.

He looks up at you warily, tail stilling. At least he’s smart enough to know your words don't match your intent.

You push your luck a little more, bringing his head against your breast and massaging his scalp behind his velvety ears. The Alpha quivers with excitement, making a sound deep in his chest as he rubs his human face into your belly instead.

Though you cringe at the gesture there’s a trace inside of pure peace, especially when he reaches around you to hold you again like his life depends on it. That motor-like attempt at purr is back, loud and vibrating you in a way that makes your resolve melt.

Whatever compulsion he’s feeling, the only thing motivating him is ensuring his mate is safe. It makes him brainless but it’s also endearing–and your fox is no wiser. She’s never been more satisfied with herself–you’d be rolling in the dirt in pleasure if you weren’t fighting to stay alert.

“If you want to protect us you’ll do what I say, won’t you, Youngho?” you ask, feeling him nod as a whine-like noise comes out instead of words.

“I can only trust you if you stay in control. You need to stay in control.”

Only enough to be believable, you think. You can’t forget your audience, after all, as sweet as this might appear to an outside observer, his tendency to submit to you can only be considered a weakness. No, there has to be a limit.

“We’re going to find Yuno,” you begin, carefully enunciating the other’s birth name while pulling away. “He can help us get out of here–”

He manages at least two seconds before he stiffens and breaks, rising up over you. Your fox is submitting immediately, unabashedly aroused by this display of dominance.

“Not. Him.” he says between clenched teeth, fangs pushing into his swollen lips. “You can't trust him in jimseung. He doesn’t care about you the same way I–”

“Snap out of it,” you say, struggling away from him. “None of us are making it out of here if we don't work together.”

“You want him more than me?” He looks just as baleful as before, panting. “You want to make me kill him?”

“I want you to protect us,” you yell. “He’s your pack–”

“No one can take you,” he repeats, nostrils flaring as he crouches over you. “You’re mine.”

You can hear something stalking towards you from the darkness–unnoticed by Johnny in his cresting anger.

“Fine. Prove yourself and kill those things. Kill all of them,” you order, reaching mentally inward and snapping the thin thread of control you can feel keeping you from becoming your animal. His eyes blaze yellow, startled as the change begins.

It's just in time for the Panther drone to attack.

Johnny whips around, instantly more beast than himself, claws raking metal as the scent of fresh blood overtakes the perfumed air. You take the chance to run, hunted down by another of the drones bursting from the brush.

Climb, you think, stumbling towards the nearest tree. It’s only pure instinct and adrenaline that gets you up the first branch, hearing the snap of a metal jaw inches from your ankle. You cling to the limb above you with all your hybrid’s strength, unable to pull yourself higher–

Your perch dips down. For a moment you’re afraid that you’re being pulled by the awful thing snapping at your heels before you recognize the tension is in your clothing, snatched up by the back of your underdress.

It’s just in time as something explodes beneath you, heat searing your skin and nearly shaking you both out of the tree you’re being bodily swung up into.

Out of the frying pan, into the fire, you lament–seized around the middle and dragged upward by clawed hands.

This time, at least, the Alpha who has captured you is still human.

Boom.

The projection in the middle of the arena is scattershot with fireworks, sparks flying and shrieking beneath the opaque grid as the returning audience rushes in to see what’s going on. Mark’s blood goes cold seeing the shadows of trees lit bright by another grenade burst, some deep fear response unlocked by the sound of bombs.

Across the box, Taeyong ducks instinctively, ears pulled back as he fights out of the circle of the other Alphas keeping him separated, his drawn face scanning the room for threats.

“They haven’t announced the match start yet, I haven’t finished my calls–” Bang stands up, only one of many whose attention is turned to the screens above the open interior of the stadium as they flash to black from displaying the usual wash of corporate advertisements.

A series of bright green digits and flashes preface the hacked signal, cohesing into one principal symbol: a circle with an unbroken horizontal line beneath it.

He knows it well–too well. The unbroken omega.

[Respected members of the Syndicate,] a modulated voice invades the speakers, stilling the room. [Your attempts to set the terms of this tribunal have revealed your greed, stupidity, and most of all–your hand.]

Footage plays of a fight he never expected to see. You and what looks to be Johnny struggling against a pair of Savannah Panthers, no weapons or resources except your claws and teeth. He’s most surprised by the sight of you rushing head-first into the fray, as if you could do anything against those nightmare creations.

Somehow, you both gain the upper hand–at least until the grenades are fired. The fight ends with a flash of green, dead and broken Zhirafa drones swallowed up by a nightmare explosion of plant-life bursting forth from the radius of the strike point.

“What the fuck is that?” Choi barks. “We didn’t clear using–”

“Kill the feed,” Duke Kim hisses, order ignored as the attache beside him struggles with his agent.

“We don’t have a way–production says they lost communication with the control crew entirely–”

[Let’s make a wager without the house having advantage. Your greatest prize is contained within the field before you, trapped with your entire illegal stockpile of biological weaponry and the Alphas you’ve consigned to die by it.]

Bang’s tablet slips from his fingers, clattering against bottles of imported liquor. Shrieks and shouts follow, as those witnessing the show realize this isn’t just entertainment.

[You have one, simple step to fulfill, to regain your investment. Proceed with the trials and execution of the son and heir of Lee Taeri, one Lee Taeyong, for his father's crimes against our kind and for the millions of innocent souls whose blood stains your Council's hands.]

[Then, and only then, will we release your so-called prize.]

Mark looks up at Taeyong, seeing genuine shock on his elder’s bruised face. The Vulpine turns to him, instinctively, shaking his head with his lips parted.

He didn’t know. It makes Mark even more angry at being left in the dark on whatever Taeyong had planned, all of it blown open with their blindness to this unanticipated weak point.

[Open the field and die with them. Alter the rules of the game and you will be subjected to the same carnage inflicted upon you as handed down in your judgment. May your punishment match the crime.]

The feed goes dark, projection still flashing with burning trees and the reports of gunfire before the hologram disappears. The arena floor is blank but for a simple reminder of the message: a taegeuk rotating on the field, under the watchful eyes of that monstrous xiezhi statue over the royal box.

A royal box, he sees, is now completely vacated.

In the strangled silence that follows the end of the message, chaos erupts. Half of the audience is fleeing, turned back at the door by security guards waiting for an order. Mark forgets himself to move towards his cousin, crowded back by the hulking guards that had been assigned to keep him seated as the clan Elders dealt with the ongoing crisis.

“The entire control suite is offline,” Kim stutters. “No in or out, we’re working on retaking the signal but–”

“Sokolov wants the demonstration canceled or they pull sponsorship,” Park says. “We need to make sure nothing happens to the . . .”

He drifts off as he realizes what’s happening beside him, Taeyong moving across the crowded space to close on Mark with the same aggression they’d been separated from earlier.

“Did you know they’d take her?” he accuses, tail bristling behind him.

“What, no?!” Mark yells.

“It was your recruits who last had her. And this–”

One small gesture at the screen burnt with a symbol of a movement his father hadn’t started but had been responsible for in the end–the very same reason Fourth Prince had faced execution when the Exodus forces were brought to heel.

North and south, all over again, he realizes, far too late. This time he’s tight in the clutches of the enemy, no ally in sight with Haechan and Taeil taking care of the wounded and Yuta investigating the crime.

“This is a set-up,” he argues. “We have to find them first, make sure they can get out without being kill–”

“We finish this,” Taeyong says, rounding on the other members of the Syndicate Council. “Tell Key we can expedite the final match.”

He doesn’t understand this game Taeyong is playing, and doesn't even think he’s in control of it with how shaken the Vulpine looks before he turns his back on him.

“Where did you take our enforcers?” Mark’s words are for Duke Kim, who’s leaving the box as if he doesn’t want to see the outcome, scurrying away from his responsibilities as always. “We need to get down there before they try to get out–”

“No. You come with us,” Choi says, raising a flashy chrome pistol at Mark’s face. Park and the others don’t move to stop him, Taeyong regarding him over his shoulder with a dismissive look.

“We proceed with the trials, cousin,” Taeyong says, expression grim, and resigned. “We’ll let the heavens decide which of us deserves to walk out of here alive.”

[previous] [next] [check the masterlist before you proceed]

#agtbtb #nct 127 fic #nct fic #nct 127 fanfic #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct imagines #nct 127 cyberpunk au #nct 127 x reader #nct 127 omegaverse

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 7 months

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Oi noble bell herbivore! What's someone like you doing walking around in a place like this? I would've slept soundly by now, but the click of those shoes of yours made my ears tick. Tch, along with you muttering about judgment, blessings, and God makes it noisy. Heard things about you from Radish sprout and the others, heh. You're mad. Now I do hope you keep the flame inside you, though. *Sighs* wouldn't want my napping spot to catch Hellfire.

I would recommend reading these headcanons after this interaction ^^ I think they serve as a good follow-up to this initial encounter.

Like Fire, Hellfire.

"It's Rollo Flamme," he sternly corrected the man stalking toward him amid the flowers and foliage. The hairs on the back of Rollo's neck stood up, sensing danger. "I do not believe I owe anyone an explanation for simply roaming the school grounds. They are open to any approved visitor such as myself."

The lion beastman bore a face he had seen in various texts: a prince from a far-off land. A Kingscholar, the second-born. Indeed, despite his wayward locks and shirt that practically hung half open, he carried himself with a natural grace only befitting that of one with noble heritage.

Another horrifying mage to add to his growing list of enemies.

Rollo grasped for his safety net, his beloved handkerchief. It swiftly covered his burgeoning grimace.

"All humans are herbivores to me," the Kingscholar scoffed, “and you marched right into a lion’s den. You’re just asking for trouble.”

Trouble—that was the last thing Rollo wanted, not on this (supposedly) cordial visit. It would draw too many eyes to him, attract too much unwanted attention. He forced himself to bend into a stiff bow.

"... Your grace." When he was met with silence, Rollo cautiously lifted his head. "I do apologize if my presence and proclivities have disturbed you. I will make myself scarce on my way out."

"Hoh?" A smirk on the lion's lips, and amusement flitting in his deep voice. "Now this is rich. You're giving me a death stare, but the words you're spouting are straining to stay nice. Radish Sprout and the others were right about you—you're pretty two-faced, hmm?"

"I'm afraid that this is how I always look. It is the one and only face I was born with.”

"That's the second time I've heard someone claim that as a defense. And that other guy?" The beastman was very close to Rollo. Showing his teeth, breath nipping at his skin. "He tried usurping the throne for himself."

“Did he now.”

Rollo’s tone was neutral in spite of the anger curling in him. He was disappointed, but not surprised, at the conferred secret. Mages were doomed to ruin one way or another, seeking power when they were weak and abusing it once it was in their hands.

They will ever know true solace. His mouth pinched.

The prince’s eyes glinted—not from sunlight streaming in through glass panes, but with a lazy interest. “… I smell it on you, you know. That cloying stench of magic. You’ve got it caged up like some poor, feral animal.”

The large cat circled his prey like a shark. Each stride he took was long and effortless, slowly riling up the unease in Rollo. Toying with him.

The wet heat of the Botanical Gardens was suddenly registering in full force. The fabric of Rollo’s robes clung to him, as if it, too, wished to retreat from the wild cat in its proximity. Discomfort settled.

“Unlike you Night Raven College miscreants, I am able to resist such sinful desires. I won’t let them spiral out of my control.”

“Sooner or later, that beast will want to be freed,” the lion coyly purred, “you can’t keep it contained forever. Your mask will slip—and with it, a grip on that dark fire.”

“… My, rather presumptuous of you to make these bold, accusatory comments to a man you just met. I’m aware that lion beastmen have a keen sense of smell, but I might make a recommendation: keep your nose out of other peoples’ matters.”

He threw his head back and laughed—rumbling and resonant against their glass cage. “I’m sure we’ll have to chance to become better acquainted with one another. It’s part of a prince’s duties to host important foreign dignitaries… and I’m nothing if not the paragon of princeliness.”

The sarcasm wasn’t missed.

Rollo allowed himself to openly frown. “You certainly haven’t been playing the part of a dutiful host, let alone royalty of any sort.”

“Oh?” He feigned, a hand drawn to his chest in mock shock. “Where are my manners?”

This time, the lion bowed to Rollo.

His facade, matching. Airs put on. Two playing at the exact same game.

“Leona Kingscholar,” he declared. The name itself was palpable and weighty. “A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Sir Flamme of the Shaftlands. You simply must pay a visit to Savanaclaw during your stay on Sage’s Island. I think I speak for my entire dorm when I say we’d love to have you for dinner.”

Rollo sniffed. “As though anyone would be convinced by this flattery.”

“Yeah, sure. Act tough and see where that gets you. I know you’ve got to visit us all eventually.” Leona tapped his temple with an index finger. “Social grace and all.”

“… Tch.”

Rollo didn’t want to admit it, but the (infuriating) man was right. His grip on his staff tightened.

“… I humbly accept your kind invitation,” he grumbled through gritted teeth. “Thank you for this invaluable opportunity.”

“Heh. Don’t pop a blood vessel yet.” Leona put a hand on Rollo’s shoulder, nearly shoving him over with a firm pat. (He didn’t look sorry about it as he baked off.) “Like I said, watch yourself. Wouldn’t want to be going and accidentally causing a forest fire, would we?”

Rollo’s eyes went hard.

His next words, dangerously soft.

“No, I suppose we wouldn’t.”

#twst #twisted wonderland #Rollo Flamme #Leona Kingscholar #disney twisted wonderland #Rollo at the Writing Desk #twst interactions #twisted wonderland interactions #Leona is talking about Jamil btw #see Jamil’s School Uniform vignette

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milfsloverblog · 1 year

Text

War Is Over

Larissa Weems (implied Larticia/Morissa)

Summary: As she lies dying on the cold tiled floor of the botanical classroom, Larissa can’t help remembering her life. What it has been and what it could have been, the betrayals and the longing for love.

A/N: I wrote this lil oneshot a few months ago, right after I finished watching Wednesday. Larissa’s death felt so unfair and so uncalled for, I had to get all my sad emotions out somehow. I posted it on AO3 but never on here, thought some of you angst lovers would enjoy it!!

Larissa falls to her knees, a hand flying to hold onto her neck where the syringe had been just a second before. And she isn’t sure what hurts more, the poison coursing through her veins or the unbearable feeling of betrayal that tightly squeezes her heart.

She gives Marylin one last look, hoping it will haunt the redhead for the rest of her miserable life.

This is what you get for thinking you’d finally found a friend, Larissa thinks as her body hits the floor with a soft thud.

Her body is convulsing now, thrashing around and she barely registers the voice that calls her name twice. There’s someone kneeling by her side and for a second Larissa’s mind plays tricks on her when she thinks she recognises an old lover in the brown eyes looking into her blue ones.

“Morticia” she tries to whisper but the word dies in her throat and the only thing that comes out of her mouth is bitter white foam.

It won’t be long now, she thinks, and yet a few seconds are enough for memories to flood her mind. She remembers her childhood, being bullied and mocked for the way she looked, how tall she was and how it led her to morph into a smaller version of herself for years.

Then there had been Nevermore. Most people had known her as “Morticia’s tall roommate”, but to Morticia…Oh, to Morticia she had been much more than that.

Larissa remembers alabaster skin brushing against her own, she remembers long jet black hair tickling her naked breasts and soft moans in her ear. She longs to go back to one of those early mornings where she would wake up with Morticia’s legs entangled with her own.

And then there had been the betrayal, not the first and definitely not the last one.

“Gomez has already invited me… I said yes.” She still hears Morticia’s voice saying when she had invited her to the Rave’N. And from that moment there was no more waking up in the brunette’s arms. If Larissa had known, if she had known it would be their last night together, she would have held Morticia a little tighter, kissed her a little longer and probably offered her another orgasm.

Larissa had always been second, whether it was in school competitions or in her lover’s heart. She would never be first, she would never be someone’s first choice and as much as she tried to convince herself that she’d made peace with that idea, her heart still swelled every time she thought of what could have been.

Where most people hoped of dying surrounded by their family, Larissa had always known she would die unloved and she often wondered if anyone would even grieve her.

Her life has been nothing but a war, the enemy often being her own reflection in the mirror.

Tears fall down Larissa’s cheeks as foam starts filling her lungs. She wishes it was quicker, that she wouldn’t have so much time to remember. But it doesn’t matter anymore, not when there’s a hand tightly holding onto hers as she takes her last breath.

As her body falls still, Larissa knows. There will be someone to grieve her, someone to remember.

And finally, war is over.

#gwendoline christie #larissa weems #no beta we die like larissa #principal weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x morticia addams #morissa #larticia

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putschki1969 · 1 month

Text

『Wakana 5th Anniversary Live ～The “VOICE” Stories～』 Live Goods

Details regarding the merchandise sale for Wakana's upcoming 5t Anniversary Live have been announced. Live goods will be available for purchase at the venue and in Wakana's Official Online Shop.

【Venue sale】 May 12th (Sun) @I'M A SHOW ◆Pre-sale 13:00-14:00 ◆Regular sale 1st Stage 14:45-15:30 / 2nd Stage 18:15-19:00 【Online sale】 ▼Space Craft Online Shop▼ https://spacecraft-shop.jp/wakana Order period: May 3rd to May 10th Scheduled to ship: Late May (mid-June depending on stock)

※Interesting that they chose to not have a pamphlet for this live. Maybe it's because another (bigger) live event/tour is planned for the second half of the year so they are waiting to do a pamphlet for that? ※The acrylic stand is currently NOT available in the online shop which is a huge bummer. There's no mention of the item being venue-exclusive so I wonder why it's not part of the online line-up. My best guess is that it is because they expect to run out of stock quickly at the venue sale so they will wait until that's over to make the remaining products available online. Update: They added the acrylic stand! YAY!

Botanical Tsushin Back Issues

Goods news for collectors of Wakana's fan club bulletin! If you have joined her fan club recently or are interested in additional copies, here's your chance! Back issues #7-#13 are now available for purchase at Wakana's Official Online Shop! Please note that you need to be a registered fan club member to buy these items.

Wakana on Instagram

Post #1: 2024/04/30 Wakana is sharing some off-shots of her Botanical Tsushin cover shoot. Issue #15 has been sent out a few days ago. Post #2: 2024/05/02 Wakana is busy rehearsing for her upcoming live

#kalafina #wakana #news #Wakana 5th Anniversary Live #The “VOICE” Stories #merch #merchandise #live goods #wakana on instagram

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