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vwritesaus · 17 days

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meet sasha and kiyoshi, disaster duo

going off this poll, i've decided to share a snippet of my original work ft. the main protagonist and her boyfriend :> more under the cut!!

Sasha sucks in a deep breath and steps in front of the couch. Immediately, her boyfriend’s eyes flick up from his phone screen to her face.

‘Kiyoshi.’

‘Yes, Sash?’

With as much will as she can muster, Sasha says, ‘I need your help with something. Something only you can help me with.’

‘Sure!’ Kiyoshi declares, and his enthusiasm is enough to cause a small smile to tug at Sasha’s lips. ‘What is it?’

That small smile quickly falls apart and dread fills every crevice of Sasha’s being. But she needs to do this. She has to. It’s the only way. It’s the worst idea she’s ever had.

‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…’ She shakes her head, wincing at the words that come out of her mouth. ‘D’you wanna go to the gym… together?’

The following silence is devastating. Sasha wants to dig a hole into the floor and crawl into it.

Kiyoshi blinks at her, his mouth agape. ‘Huh?’

Groaning into her palms, Sasha bites, ‘Please don’t make this more painful than it already is. Just say yes or no, dammit!’

‘Sasha…’ Peeking through her fingers, she sees Kiyoshi dump his phone onto the cushion next to him and hold his hands out to her, palms up. ‘As much as going to the gym together would make me very happy, I also know you.’

There is no malice in his voice, just pure fact. He does know her, and she knows herself. Kiyoshi’s the sporty one, the gym rat, the muscle pig. Sasha is… not.

‘Which is exactly why I need you to motivate me to go. Who knows what can happen in the future?’

‘The future?’ Alarm is rife in his expression. ‘Babe, where are you going with this?’

Sasha drops her hands from her face, her voice turning dry as she shoots Kiyoshi a weary look. ‘Well, y’know how it goes. All those YA novels. The trope is always the same: the protagonist didn’t know they were magic, and then all of a sudden they need to save the fucking world and they are very conveniently armed with MMA knowledge and are super fit and have amazing stamina and know how to hold their own in a spontaneous fight with otherworldly creatures. As you know, I am the complete opposite, so I better start training in case one of my future goddamn visions ends up being a plot to destroy the world and I’m somehow the only fucking person who can stop it.’

Gasping for air, Sasha tries to catch her breath and curses her lungs for not being to do their job properly. It just hammers the truth of the matter right down to its core. Kiyoshi is frowning, deep in thought, but there’s something in his expression that flickers ever-so-slightly. She knows what’s up. He’s trying to keep his face neutral, and if her nerves weren’t so shot, she’d be doing the same.

‘Tell me I’m wrong,’ she says to him instead.

‘Sasha. My love.’

It’s inevitable and Sasha cannot blame him for it. No longer able to keep his face straight, Kiyoshi crumbles and peals with laughter. Never mind that Sasha glares at him.

‘My love, I adore you, but you are thinking way too hard about this.’

‘I gotta be prepared, Kiyoshi!’ Sasha argues.

‘You are prepared!’ he counters. When all Sasha does is stare at him, question marks flying around her head, Kiyoshi puffs out his chest and states with confidence, ‘You have me! Ya think I’m gonna let ya fight alone should one break out? Girl, please. I’ll always have your back. Just say the word and I’ll come and one-two punch the living shit out of whoever tries to mess with you!’

The whole scenario is emphasised with Kiyoshi’s signature grin, the one Sasha’s seen flashed at the opposing team during his volleyball matches, and with him flexing his biceps. The whole thing is hilarious, and Sasha would laugh if not for the overwhelming fondness that blooms across her whole chest. God, she got lucky with this guy.

But there’s just one small problem with his proposal.

She says gravely, ‘That’s sweet of you, darl, but I hate to break it to you... you don’t have MMA skills either.’

Kiyoshi blinks. Sasha blinks back.

‘Guess we’re fucked then,’ he says.

‘Guess we are,’ she echoes.

‘Better go train then.’

‘Better go train.’

Tapping a finger to his chin, Kiyoshi’s voice suddenly becomes pensive. ‘Say, wanna place a bet?’

Not one to back down from a challenge, Sasha asks, ‘What kind of bet?’

Dark eyes sparkle and Sasha’s hooked.

‘If you can survive two consecutive days training at the gym with whatever regime I throw at you to “prepare for the end of the world,’ Kiyoshi pitches, ‘I’ll do whatever you want for a week.’

‘A month,’ Sasha rebuts, smiling when Kiyoshi nods his head in agreement. Then she pauses. ‘And if I can’t?’

She regrets the question the second it passes her lips for an evil-looking grin splits Kiyoshi’s cheeks.

‘Kiyoshi—’

‘If you can’t,’ he says, ‘you have to eat my famous stir-fry.’

Horrified, Sasha splutters, ‘Kiyoshi—’

‘Broccoli and all. Every. Last. Bite.’

‘You fucking arsehole!’ she shouts. Seeing no other alternative that won’t end up with this conversation being a waste, Sasha throws her hands up in defeat. ‘Fine! Just you wait. I’ll fucking do it.’

Two days later

She storms out of the living room, not wanting to give her boyfriend the satisfaction, but his delighted laughter follows her. It’s contagious, and she laughs quietly to herself. But her determination is stronger.

‘I gotta say, Sash. I’m very surprised,’ he says in awe.

Watching Sasha drop the weights on the floor with a deep groan, Kiyoshi’s mouth turns down at the corners.

With her hands on her knees, huffing and puffing and wishing for a long, long shower, Sasha peers up at him through her eyelashes. Her hair is stuck to her forehead, disgustingly damp with sweat, and her arms are screaming at her, but she manages a smug grin.

‘What can I say?’ she wheezes. ‘I’d rather kill my arms and legs, hack a lung out and feel like death than put Satan in my mouth.’

Kiyoshi laughs and smiles hugely at her. ‘I can see that! I’m super proud of you though.’

He makes a heart with his hands to exemplify this, and Sasha barely manages to make one as well.

idk who else specifically is interested, but i'm tagging @alastairstom since you wanted to read ajksdas ♡

#original work #original writing #original characters #my ocs #sasha #kiyoshi #snippet #some more info about these two!!#they're 22 currently at university and have been dating for 2 years #kiyoshi may have bokuto vibes (overexcited volleyball player who loves life?? please!!) and i am not sorry about it #sasha is TiredTM and has clairvoyant powers #and she's not happy about it lol #unwilling hero so to speak #does not want to be the chosen one #also i wrote this a few years ago and only just quickly glossed over it #so excuse any errors lol

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sidesteppostinghours · 2 months

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hey *with the intention of fucking up your siblings relationships even more*

#thinking thoughts about cyrus abusing his shields and shutting his thoughts down completely post robbery fight #endless guilt over what happened and unwilling paranoia over anybody in his thoughts (even if its *literally his siblings*)#he cant cut the chord to the connection. wont even think about it. he needs to feel them /there/ to some capacity #but hes willing to build a fort around it #only allowing passing thoughts to leak through #he builds the wall after he argues with river about nearly killing fawn because theres no way hes letting any of those two-#-feel him get so fragile again #and then he argues with fawn about (gestures vaguely at everything) and the insistence that they /need/ to feel him there is enough to-#-make those walls crumble #also this is very much unrelated to everything i put here #but cyrus takes 4 years to be finally convinced to break out the farm himself and. yk. i think itd be a little goofy silly to see #fawn and rivers reaction to him clinging so stubbornly to being a hero and still failing #cyrus becker(s)#nmoc: fawn becker #nmoc: river becker #keeping up with the beckers #pulp speaks

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thecuriousquest · 3 months

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Caught In Between

Yan!Dom Bakugou x Fem!Reader x Yan!Sub Izuku

Warnings: Yandere themes, bisexual relationship, homosexual relationship, mild spanking, homoerotic undertones, polyamory, unwilling reader turns willing-ish

Image linked here. This picture does things to me. Like, you don’t understand. 😭😭😭🖤🖤🖤

Master List

Requests are temporarily closed.

—————————————————————————

Yan!Bakugou who brings his little subby Deku home after a rough mission. He orders you to get the supplies, quite gruffly, cussing at you to move faster. He puts Izuku down on the bed, holding him still with a firm paw on his thigh.

“Damn nerd, still throwing yourself in harm’s way even after all the shit I told you.” He starts cleaning up his boyfriend.

You, with trembling hands, use an alcohol pad to clean the wounds on his other thigh.

“What happened?” you ask tentatively.

“Fucking villains happened. Tore up the damn streets. Deku threw himself in the fucking way, dumb moron.”

Izuku tries to speak up, tries to get a singular word out in response. Unfortunately, he doesn’t get the room he wants to talk as Katsuki abruptly cuts him off with a palm to his pale tush. A yelp is all that escapes Izuku’s lips as he ducks his head in his folded arms.

You know better than to say something, even if you don’t like it when he spanks Izuku, so you keep quiet and go about your task.

You and Bakugou return to cleaning Izuku’s wounds, stitching up whatever needs to be stitched, bandaging what needs to be bandaged.

“You been good today?” Bakugou asks you out of nowhere as soon as you two are finished.

“Yeah…yes, Master. I just cleaned and cooked. Dinner is ready whenever you two want to eat.”

You’re still learning, still a bit fresh with this whole dynamic. Bakugou cuts you some slack since you corrected yourself.

“Good girl.” He gives you a kiss on the forehead and a slight pat on the rump.

Deciding to be even more of a “good girl”, you help Izuku up and take him to the kitchen to get something to eat.

It’s not perfect. This definitely isn’t the “happy little family” you had envisioned for yourself. Confined to the home so that you don’t end up in any danger while your two pro hero boyfriends fight crime and bring home the bacon.

It’s definitely not what you had in mind, but you’ve been disciplined harshly by Katsuki ever since he brought you home to the point where you know running is futile and only ends in punishment.

But…it’s just that when you are good…and Katsuki gives you that rare smile and those little bits of affection. When he holds you closely by your hips and runs a hand through your hair. When he calls you all those cute names like “Teddy Bear” and “Biscuit” and “Sugar Pie”…

And when Izuku lays your head on his chest and strokes your back after a rough day. When he whispers in your ear about how you’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to him. When he kisses your forehead and helps you with anything and everything.

These are the things that make you want to stay. You want to see more of this from them. It might not be perfect, but it’s what you got, and you’ll do what you can to make the best of it.

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deadsetobsessions · 1 month

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Okay I got some sleep- here’s pt. 2 of my nightmare:

——

They spoke to each other as they moved, the surroundings that had egregiously attacked the group of heroes earlier easily parted way for his sister.

‘How has everything been, habibi?’

They talked to each other in a language known only to them. The rest of the Justice League team, the members of this mission: Batman, Flash, Superman, and Zatanna did not understand the signs, a feat worthy of his sister.

‘Alright. They are not bad. I like it here.’ He told her, eyes not quite wary but fear of disappointing her running through his small frame apparent all the same. ‘I would… like to stay.’

She ruffled his hair once more, wistfulness growing in her heart. How her little brother had grown. It seemed like yesterday she held him as a babe, swaddled in even more opulent green and gold silks than her own clothing. Now, he stood in front of her, daring to express his own thoughts with a domino over his face and strength of free will in his eyes. ‘That is good. I am glad you are happy.’

Batman lurched forward to stop her from touching Damian, only to freeze as his son accepted the touch without a hint of resistance. Even Dick couldn’t get that reaction, not without some grumbling and scowling. Who was this…?

The rest of team agreed to wait and watch. Part of it was strategy. Most of it was the wonder of a such Bat-like Robin being so open with someone.

‘Have you been here before?’ Damian, relaxed as she all but gave him her blessing to stay with father, peered at the local fauna as it bowed away from her sister. She shrugged, his katana sheathed on her back. She was at ease with it as he was with her blade, the training they did to get there unwavering despite the time they spent apart.

‘Sometimes. The tower we’re headed to, I often go there to relieve stress by training with the monsters there. They like to… attack everything that moves.’

Something told Damian it was more of a one sided massacre on his sister’s part.

‘Why would the magician hide there?’

‘It would serve adequately as a natural barrier, should he have a safe space put there ahead of time.’ His sister tilted her head, masked face still in the way he knew meant that she was thinking. Her hands moved. ‘Perhaps it was Grorgiantue that attacked you. He often goes there to experiment with alchemy and demonic remains. He often wears a maroon headband.’

“That’s him.” Damian confirmed.

“Are you going to clue us into what you’re saying, you two?” The Flash zoomed around the pair, skidding to a stop in front of them. Damian’s sister simply stepped around him, slicing apart a thorn bush that attacked when it got startled by the Flash’s speed. He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as Robin scowled at him and the unknown ally spared him one quick, neutral glance of displeasure.

“No. Do not ask again, you eavesdropper.” Damian curtly replied, surly Robin mask back up.

“Robin.” Father reprimanded. Damian acknowledged it, but did not offer an apology. His sister remained silent and watching.

She’s relying on him to navigate these allies, Damian realized. His shoulders went back at the show of trust. He does not acquiesce to Father’s silent command. Had it been Richard… perhaps.

“Ouch, but still, if your… friend knows what’s up ahead, it’s be good to let us know.”

“We do need to take care of this as fast as possible, Robin. And we’re not the best team against magic.” Superman hovered. He would have gone and scouted ahead, but magical planes always had nasty surprises that he found extremely hard to escape.

“Speak for yourself,” Zatanna joked. Regardless, she looked askance at Damian’s sister.

Damian scowled and opened his mouth. His sister placed a hand on his shoulder and Damian sighed, readying himself to act as a translator. He knew she could sign in practically every standard sign language there was, damn it. She’s lucky he loved her enough to be a translator when she’s unwilling to socialize.

——

“Your sword,” Damian tried to hand her sword back. Her little brother, for a genius, was an idiot. She huffed, pushing the sword back.

‘Keep it. How will you cut through a magical tower without a magical sword?’ She signed to him, emphasizing her amusement.

“What about you?”

‘I must report back. I am... a bit late. I’ll see you later, habibi.’ She tapped her hand four times. A reminder that she cared about him. Before she disappeared through a swirling portal of mist grey and acrid blue, she saw him repeat the sign.

Behind her mask, she smiled.

——

“Who was that, Robin?”

Robin stared up at Batman. Damian Wayne stared up at his father.

“She... protected me.”

Not quite an answer. But it was an olive branch, to tell him who she was to Damian himself, but not who she truly was in relations to Damian.

“That’s it?”

“That is all you’re getting.” He replied, hands tightening around the hilt of his sister’s sword. Her magic hummed beneath his fingertips, the feeling of indescribable violence softening to a sense of protectiveness the moment the sword felt his presence. Damian respected Father. He might even love him. But Damian loved his sister first, and he would not betray her trust.

A new file is added to the database. Nightwing gets an update. When a familiar masked face pops up, Dick Grayson sped out of Bludhaven to interrogate his littlest brother.

And so the wheels turned.

——

“Tell me, granddaughter, what it is you truly think of me.”

Despite the conversational tone, she knew it was an order. The scars on her back burned, a reminder of another rebellion and the cost of failure.

There were many, many ways she could answer. All of them unpleasant. Yet, she must be pleasant. He must hear how she’d been broken, or else he’d keep trying to break her.

She tilted her head down, so he would not glimpse the hatred brewing in her eyes.

“I respect you, grandfather.” Because she did respect his ability to bend her at his will, for all that she hated him. It took a special kind of scum to be so cruel to one own blood. “I wish to obey your every order.” Because if she didn’t, pain would follow. But that wish was a temporary one, only in effect until she managed to kill him and come out on top.

Ra’s laughed, a warm and rich sound. Hollow, because he loved none but himself and so only reserved warmth for his own flattery. It sounded like the sharpening of a blade and it felt like balancing on a precipice. On one side, an eternity of torture. On the other, the pain of those she loved. Damian... and maybe, just a little, Talia herself.

"Do you love me, granddaughter?" He crooned, mocking and cruel, in a way one might ask a jilted lover. The reincarnation held her breath and answered. She will not lie. She can not lie, not to him. He had gouged the order into her tongue with magic and brutality. And so, she will not lie.

"No, grandfather. But I do not dislike you." The reincarnation said, soft as velvet. It was true, because what she felt for Ra's al Ghul was the cold, pervasive hatred. "I respect you."

"I see I've managed to beat some of that foolish sentimentality out of you," he said, taking a sip of his wine. Oh, how she wished she could slip poison in his cup. How she wished to make him choke on his own words, his own blood. But she could not. Not. Yet. "Alas, I can not undo the magic. I suspect you'll be serving at my feet for... quite a long time more."

She snapped her mouth closed, phantom rage hovering between her teeth. The world swirled around her, greens and purples, and the revolting touch of his hands on her.

No, she will bide her time.

She knelt, the motion familiar, on plush carpet that she could not appreciate. Luxurious cloth rustled in front of her.

And when her time comes, she will revel in Ra's al Ghul's agonizing death.

——

"Damian, you have to tell me who that is!"

Damian could be stubborn at times, he knew that. He worked with him on it. Damian was as much, if not more, Dick's Robin as he was Bruce's Robin. So why...?

"And for what reason do you wish to know her identity, Richard?"

Dick paused. He couldn't. He couldn't tell him. No one knew, except for that masked person. It happened so long ago- not long enough- and Dick could not wash the taint, could not wash the trauma from his brain, his heart. Whispers that sounded like Catalina surrounded him when he thought of that rainy night, telling him how disgusted his family would be, if they knew. Those things went away, now that he's pulled up the file on the batcomputer. The whispers fade a bit as he looked upon the masked face of the person who saved him. Just in time.

"For your safety!"

Damian crossed his arms, a look that spoke of an unbending unwillingness present in his eyes. Dick knew then that Damian would not tell him. "I will never be in danger if it's her on the other side of the blade."

"Come on, Damian, I won't tell B. Promise. Don't you trust me?"

Damian's face softened, and for a second, Dick had thought that he'd managed it. "I do... trust you." Damian struggled to say. "That is hardly ever in question, you imbecile. But to tell you would mean betrayal. And I will not betray her trust. Especially not for your personal satisfaction."

Dick wondered what this masked woman did for Damian to be unhesitatingly confident in her. He wondered if his own desperation meant something he had yet been able to put into words.

"For what it's worth, Dick, I think we should trust Damian and not pry."

Dick and Damian turned to Tim in surprise. Damian, because it was an unexpected vote of confidence.

"Woah, I do not want to hear that from you, Mr. Tiny Tot Stalker McGee."

"It's called preparation!" Tim said hotly back. Then, he subsided. "She, uh, saved me once. Back then, before I was... associated with Bruce."

"What?" Dick and Damian demanded.

——

Innocuous. The worst and best things always happened on innocuous days.

The beginning of her slavery began on a regular, if painful, sunny day.

The beginning of her freedom began on a regular, if painful, cloudy one.

She'd have to thank the little photographer later, she decided. His work all but forced her grandfather to rely on a handful of backup Lazarus pools only he, mother, and herself knew about. She stared at the green pools as her grandfather stripped to his waist to step in.

"Guard me," he commanded her as he stepped towards the pool. The sting of the command settled familiarly around her neck. “Once I am done, you will depart to force Damian or the detective back to Nanda Parbat. By any means necessary.”

It was his first time ordering her to hurt her brothers, past physical pain disguised as training.

His first mistake today.

That's the thing with her grandfather, she mused as she silently unsheathed Damian's sword. He was so complacent, that he could fathom her betrayal.

His second mistake. His last mistake.

Then again, it was her who lulled him into it, with the shows of loyalty and seemingly willing obedience outside of her magical collar's commands.

After all, he had commanded her to guard him. From outside threats, surely, but he hadn't commanded her to guard him from herself.

"You-!" He coughed as her- Damian's- blade slid in between his ribs and straight towards the other side. It missed his heart by a hair's breadth, Ra's having moved the moment he felt the blade. Truly, it was hard to beat a near-immortal's experience.

"Kill yourself!" He barked at her, clutching at his chest, trying to stumble towards the pool.

To kill herself, she had to remove the blade lodged in his chest. The magic urged her to follow his commands immediately with searing pain. But she's had over two decades to endure and adjust to it, to grit her teeth and learn how to move with the torture of being alive. So she follows it just to dislodge the blade. The reincarnation then, with the magic trying to break her, cripples Ra’s with two blows.

He collapsed, screaming bloody murder and slurs at her. Before he could say another command, she stabbed down and to the side, cutting deep enough to cut his voice box and spill his life-blood, his unceasingly irritating throat, over the craggy rocks surrounding the pool.

Then, she slit her throat with a cut that was a touch too shallow to kill her right away.

"I do not dislike you," she said, the pain easing as she spoke to him. The red she's taken from others now spilled on the front of her shirt. She stared at his enraged glare, vicious glee at making him choke on his own actions. "No, I hate you."

She bent down, twisting and breaking his arms with little effort. She patted his cheeks and raked a trail of pain down his face with her metal tipped gloves. Her blood dripped onto him, blinding his eyes.

Fitting, she'd thought. "No one will come for you, grandfather. But... I do have to ask," She looked down, voice tilting in the cruel way that he'd unintentionally taught her. "Don't you love me, grandfather?"

She walked backwards until she reached the edge of the pool. She knelt once more, a mockery of every time she's knelt for him.

The reincarnation watched his blood spill, the light leave his eyes, and the way his body stilled and the way his rage was stifled like he'd smothered her voice so long ago. She memorized it, because hate was an active emotion. But she was tired, and she wanted to rest. So she watched him die and felt nothing but peace.

Then, as she felt the magic take hold and tear her soul from her body, she tipped backwards and plunged her corpse in the glowing pits that awaited her.

——

It felt like drowning.

(did y’all know cats lay on your chest?? bro i straight up couldn’t breath bc of that)

Breathless. Corrosive. Freeing.

The Pit felt like freedom.

And she’d long forgotten what that felt like.

It tasted like shit water though, and suddenly she felt bad for everyone whoever swallowed some of the water here. She’s going to need her stomach pumped out after this-

Her thoughts were washed away in a haze of green tinted fury.

——

“Habibi.”

Nightwing slid in front of Robin with a well practiced flip. Batman emerged from the shadows, followed Spoiler and Red Robin.

“Talia. What do you want?” Batman growled. Talia ignored him, an uncharacteristic action that had the vigilantes putting their guards up.

“I… you know I would not ask this of you- I would not ask you to return,” Talia said softly.

“Then don’t.” Red Robin cut in sharply, bo staff at the ready. Talia ignored him too.

“But she needs you, habibi. I can not… I can not help her.”

“Who?” Spoiler asked, curious but ready to rumble.

“What happened?” Robin stepped around Nightwing, who made an aborted movement to try to pull Robin back behind him.

“Something terrible.” Talia al Ghul closed her eyes, a sliver of vulnerability and regret showing on her face. Robin straightened, fear thudding through his heart. What happened to ukhti, he wanted to ask. But he could not, not without betraying the promise of silence he’d made to her. “I… I have failed her greatly. And she was paying the price for it, this entire time.”

“Wait, is this about the masked woman?” Nightwing asked.

“Alright,” Robin- no, Damian- stepped forward once more. His decision was made. Had been made, the moment his mother allowed the rare instance of vulnerability to come across her face. “I’ll be going back, once…”

“Of course. She would not let me keep you, habibi. She knows you are happier here.”

“Then, let’s go.”

“Robin!” His family tried to stop him but Damian slipped between and out of their reach. “Do not!”

“I’ll be back,” he declared, like he was daring his mother to say otherwise. “Try not to raze Gotham into the ground with your incompetence.”

“I’ll kill Ra’s if something happens to him.” Red Robin pointed the bo staff at Talia as she and Damian turned to leave. He stopped an alarmed Batman when he tried to lunge for Robin.

“No need,” she threw back. Damian whipped his head up at that. “He’s already dead.”

And they disappeared into a whirling purple cloud of magic.

——

Snippets of reality return to her bit, by bit. Her mother had cautiously entered the pit with her guards- worried, no doubt, by their absence- and stilled upon seeing her father’s dead body.

She laughed, and dug her hands into the bodies of the assassins she’d trained until her nails dripped with blood and pieces of organs. She felled them, one by one, until only mother was left.

She’d attacked, like a rabid dog, until the green slipped and her mother came into focus.

“I killed him,” she’d croaked out. And that was what broke her; the smooth way air wrapped her around her throat where only ripping pain had existed. Her voice came out unhindered and recklessly so, without the tinge of agony carefully picking her sentences.

“I killed him,” she repeated, and set Ra’s al Ghul’s body on fire. “I killed him.”

Her mother stared at her, hands dropping carefully to her side. “Why?”

She smiled, teeth bared and bloody- oh, she must have ripped into an assassin with her teeth, how messy- and endlessly joyful. “Because he dared to chain me- because he threatened Damian.”

She broke, and she told her mother everything. No, not everything. Just, enough. At the end, when her back is bowed with pain and heart empty, her mother knelt before her and quietly, tremblingly, apologized.

“I am sorry, habibi. I…”

The reincarnation’s made a small, wounded noise and lost herself to the green.

——

Damian trembled with rage. With grief.

With regret.

He followed mother into the caverns, mind turning and whirling with everything he’d learned in the hour that had passed since he’d left Gotham. His sister’s inclination towards magic was incredibly helpful, but Damian wished that she had never had the cause to go delving into magic like she did.

He thought it was passion.

His mother had informed him of what Grandfather had done to his ukht all these years. She told him of what his sister had sacrificed so that he remained free.

“Every time she spoke to us, to tell us that she loves us… father had made sure she paid for every word with unceasing agony.” His mother had muttered, eyes more lost than he’d ever seen it. “The magic at her neck ensured that she obeyed unquestioningly or she paid the price.”

“She is paying the price right now,” he’d snapped at her.

“Yes.”

Damian had thought ukhti’s collection of magical tomes were a sign of her interests. He thought it was passion for a subject. He had even envied how she did not have to hide her hobby like he had to with his art.

Now, he knew it wasn’t passion. No, it was desperation; a scrambling for freedom, a wish for dignity, and the fear of the same restrictions being placed on his ukht’s loved ones- him and mother.

When he entered the cave, lit up by swirling, sickly green, he saw his ukht, drenched in blood and sclera, tearing apart another group of assassins. There were ashes and the smell of burnt flesh around them.

Her eyes- green, glazed, furious- turned towards them.

His mother tensed. His ukht lunged, pitted sword aimed at his eyeball.

But if there was anything Damian knew, it was that ukhti would never hurt him.

So he stayed still.

And she stopped. Blade a centimeter from his eyes, his sister stopped.

“Damian?”

How his heart broke when she spoke, confusion in her voice that sounded as if she had been screaming for decades and nobody had heard.

As Damian’s hand wrapped around her wrist and she dropped the sword, he morbidly thought that she might have been doing that. It’s not like they heard her, after all, not until she’d freed herself with broken fingers and steel spine.

——

Bruce paced around in the cave. With the disappearance of their youngest, the entire family gathered in the cave, the night after. Except for Barbara, who had been scouring the cameras and had prior engagements, and Cass, who was on a plane back from Hong Kong, the family watched as Bruce slowly lost his mind.

“Relax, B. Look, even Dickface and Timbers aren’t worried, and you know how they get.” Jason said, kicking his feet up on the table.

“Ahem.”

Jason quickly put his feet down.

“We know nothing about this woman! She could be a danger- she could-!”

“B, if it really is about the masked woman, I think we should give Damian some trust.” Dick spoke up.

“And what if they keep Damian captive?”

“Then we go get him, Bruce. Simple.” Duke said, yawning.

Whatever Bruce would have said next was cut off by the opening of the cave’s underground entrance, with an approving beep of a recognized and authorized entrance.

Damian stalked in, hands wrapping around the hilt of his sword like he was going to cut through the next fool who tested him. His face was in a frown.

“Damian. Are you alright?” Bruce rushed towards his youngest, only to be dodged.

“I need to break something. Then, we shall talk.”

Damian headed towards the training dummies at let out his fury. He let out his heart break. Splinters of wood and cloth and ripped padding laid testament to his grief.

Then, the younger brother of the true heir to the Demon’s Head turned around to speak to his chosen family.

——

Clarity.

Her brother, her fool, dumb brother who had just stood there as she tried to gouge his eyes out, had been exactly what she needed.

She avoided his concerned eyes as she muttered calculations under her breath.

“Ukhti, what are you doing?”

“Freedom, habibi. I am… creating my freedom.”

At his confused look, she made the signs for Pit Rage. He nodded and guarded her back.

Damian was so adorable. And now, now that there’s not collar around her neck, she could say that without awaiting internal agony!

Her mouth spoke the words she’d found all those years ago, magic flaring bright white and blue as the circle she laid down on crumbling rocks shuddered.

The magic soothed her frayed mind and seeped the poison from her mind.

——

“I have a sister.” He’d told them. He turned to his father, who had a blank look on his face. “An older sister. She is yours.”

“You fucked Talia, twice?!”

A scowl. “Keep your trap shut, Todd.”

Bruce felt his world shudder to a stop.

——

Her fingers, her left hand as her right was busy scratching absently at Damian’s head, found purchase on her back and neck. The skin wasn’t so soft anymore, time and scars making for a rougher feel.

There were worse things than death. Bitter, painful things.

Loosing her freedom. Loosing her voice.

But… there were better things than life. Sweet, gentle things.

Regaining her freedom. Getting revenge. Securing her family’s safety and freedom from the grotesque thing that wore the skin of a grandfather.

Her brother, tucked safely against her side, and a mother that finally understood.

“Come to Gotham with me,” Damian had suggested. She hummed, delighting in the way the sound came out with out the ringing pain.

But one does not erase two plus decades worth of trauma in one night.

Her hands came up.

‘Not yet. Mother will think-”

“It is a good idea.”

Her gaze darted up. Her mother’s eyes… softened. Odd. No… her gaze was heavy with guilt.

“It would… do you good to be away from here, my daughter.”

Well.

It’s not like she was opposed to that, at all, but still…

‘Two weeks. I’ll tie up loose ends… and I’ll go to Gotham in two weeks, if that’s alright with you, Damian?’

“Of course.” He leaned against her, hand clutching at her shirt in a motion that she wasn’t sure was meant to comfort himself or her. “May I tell father about you?”

Ah. She hadn’t thought of that. The pit really scattered her mind. She nodded.

——

“Why… why didn’t you tell me?”

“She asked me not to.”

“And since when did you do things people ask of you, demon brat?”

Damian scowled. It did not make his next sentence any less genuine.

“Since it was ukhti that asked.”

Tim spun around on his wheel chair. “Holy shit. So the masked person was your sister. No wonder you were so….”

Protective, they all finished the rest of the sentence silently. They all sat back to contemplate that Bruce had one more kid… and that Tim had met her before Damian was even born.

“So, why were you so upset, baby bird?” Dick asked, an odd feeling of both gratefulness and mild jealousy towards Damian’s sister- his savior, because holy shit- gathering underneath his heart.

“Apparently, grandfather put her under an enslavement spell all these years.”

“Damian… say that again. I- I must have heard you wrong.”

Damian closed his eyes, hating how unsteady and fearful his father sounded. He obliged, because he knew what it felt like.

“Grandfather put her under an enslavement spell and used her to further the League’s reach.”

Damian had wondered why he had encountered his sister so often while passing by grandfather’s chambers and why she always looked tired when she goes past those ornate doors.

Now he knew.

“Does that- does that mean what I think it means?”

“Yes. She,” Damian’s hands gripped harshly on his forearms. He breathed in and out slowly. “She was… assaulted. Most likely regularly. To broker more favorable agreements. She could not refuse. The magic demanded complete obedience or risk the punishment of unbearable pain.”

Dick looked away. They had a lot in common. She saved him… but on her end, she was not saved. His hands itched to punch Ra’s al Ghul in the face.

“Fuck.” Stephanie cursed. Her eyes met Duke’s and Jason’s.

Tim’s hands stopped moving, eyes staring blankly at Damian. He should have tried harder to kill Ra’s al Ghul.

Bruce got up, trembling, and stalked over to the training dummy. They sat in silence.

“What else?” Bruce rasped. He hung his head.

“She was ordered not to speak a word.”

“But she… spoke to me.” Tim said. Damian felt an irrational flare of jealousy.

“Then it most likely caused her unimaginable pain as punishment.” Damian snapped.

“What do we have to do to free her?” Stephanie demanded.

“Nothing, Brown. She freed herself.”

“How?” Duke leaned in, expression serious. “Did Ra’s al Ghul free her before he died or something?”

“I… am not too sure of the details, but it involved killing him… and jumping into the pit.”

Jason stood up with a clatter. “She was in the pit?!

“Yes. I think… she might have died. I’m not… sure.”

Bruce closed his eyes, working on his breathing like Dinah had showed him.

“Is that why Talia came? Because you could stop her pit madness?”

“Yes. I- there-” Damian struggled to get the words out, the ball of upset sitting on his chest made it hard to breathe. “Ukhti would never hurt me. Unless it’s training, but even then, I am sure she fought against her orders to wound me.”

Dick nodded. Yeah. He would have too, if he were in her shoes.

“I… can ukhti come here to recover?”

“Of course. When?” It was at times like this when he appreciated his family’s sentimentality and ridiculously large hearts. Unhesitatingly kind, even when they should have been furious at him for keeping ukhti’s secrets.

“Two weeks.”

“Then we shall make adequate- no, better than adequate preparations. Master Damian, what were her preferences for food?”

——

She should probably prepare a gift. Multiple.

“Ukht.”

She tilted her head to show Damian she was listening.

“I am sorry.”

‘There’s nothing to be sorry for.’

“But-”

She squeezed his shoulder and forced the words to come out. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“I should have noticed.”

‘I did not want you to notice. If I hid things from you, do you think you could find them so easily?’

“No, I suppose not.”

She smiled at him and tapped her hand four times. He tapped his own four times in response.

——

The dream ended there, well, no, there was actually some more nonsense about a corgi, a room full of strings and slenderman or whatever but I didn’t include that part. There’ll probably be a part three bc I kinda wanna know what happens when she comes to Gotham to recover from trauma.

The oc, relatively well adjusted: *dies*

The oc, reincarnated and got fucked over (figuratively and non consensually literally): “yes, I should go to Gotham (aka trauma central) to recover from my trauma. Sounds legit.”

#Dick Grayson #dick grayson and his gatekeeper gaslight girl boss self #oc in dc #batman #damian wayne’s older sister #damian wayne #Tim Drake #Jason Todd #talia al ghul #ra’s al ghul #ra’s al ghul and the consequences of his actions #tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon

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electronicwitchcollection · 8 months

Text

~*Grimmjow Smut*~

“One bed trope” & Rutting/breeding

The Quincy war had ended. Soul society had began rebuilding from the ruins, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. Buildings had been rebuilt, the 13 divisions coming together in unity after the destruction and loss you all endured. The new head captain, previous captain of the 8th, Shunsui Kyoraku, had led the shinigami into the new world created. Along with the new found peace, soul society had gained some new recruits. One of them being the former Espada, Grimmjow Jeagerjaques.

A brutally gruff man with a lethally short temper and a thirst for battle that rivalled that of Captain Kenpachi. After his efforts in support of the war and the glowing recommendations given by war hero Kisuke Urahara, he had been granted a place in the goeti 13 court guards.

Unfortunately, due to your inability to say no and your constant need to appease your superiors, you had been landed with the gruelling task of "teaching Grimmjow the ropes" so to speak. The arrancar had seemed just as disappointed by this match up as you were. Arms permanently crossed over his muscular chest, he had spent the majority of the past three days of your journey glaring at you. Which was preferable to the snide comments and rumbling growls he otherwise offered you.

You couldn't wait to make it back to the Seireitei, the last leg of your journey should have you arriving back by late morning tomorrow. You would suggest walking through the night to end the painful silence sooner, if not for the angry black clouds rolling closer at a rapid pace. The temperature had lowered considerably, your brisk walking thankfully warming you sufficiently. You pulled the map from your sash, eye brows furrowed as you came to a stop and tried to figure out how far away you were from the inn you had reserved for the night.

"how much longer?" your unwilling companion grumbled from behind you. Fighting the urge to throw the map at his head, you concentrated on the markings.. it's going to be at least another three hours of Mr. Sunshine's radiant personality.

"Are you deaf, woman?! " Grimmjow growled, testing your patience "How much longer? It's going to rain soon"

Folding the map back up, you took your time placing it securely in your sash as the winds picked up around you. The fact that you were waiting until you were finished before addressing the crude brute, was less about the efficiency of securing your map and more because you enjoyed making him wait. "About three hours Grimmjow. Four if you keep wasting time bitching"

"I ain't bitching! It's gunna rain! " he roared at your retreating back, you started back on your journey, not waiting to see if he would follow

"aww, is the kitty scared of a little rain?" You unkindly teased over your shoulder. You heard the rumble deep in his chest, clearly about ready to snap

"I ain't scared of nothing!" such eloquent grammar the Espada exhibited. "Damn bitch, can't you feel the storm coming? Fucking weak shiningami"

"Listen, Grimmjow, the longer you stand there arguing with me, the longer we'll be stuck in the storm you're so desperately trying to avoid " you turn to face him, started a little by how he looked. He looked frenzied. Blue hair sticking out as though he had been running his fingers through it. His skin looked clammy and flushed, face had a dull pink tinge, unlike the brilliant red you had witnessed during a screaming rampage. His arms tensed at his sides, bulging biceps trembling minutely as his fists opened and closed in tight fists.

His eyes looked wild. The brilliant blue seemed faded with an animalistic sheen. Blown pupils darted around erratically, avoiding looking straight at you. He must really hate getting wet. The fight left you at the sight of him. Sighing, you offer an alternative, as much as he was getting on your last neves, it really wasn't in you to be intentionally cruel, "there's a trapper shack about fifteen minutes up the side road. It won't be as nice as the inn, but providing there's no one there we should be able to survive one night"

He clenched his jaw, offering you a tight nod. Taking the hint, you resumed your leading, teetering off the main road to follow the dusty beaten path.

—————————————————

"you've got to be kidding me"

You weren't some materialistic princess, you could slum it with the best of them. Getting your hands dirty had never phased you. The state of the shack, however, was pushing it. The howling wind ripped through the barely held together shack, forcing its way through the rotting wooden slats. Every inch of the place was covered in a sheet of dust, the muddy floor held long forgotten footprints of past hunters. A sooty fire pit sat in the middle of the room, jagged rocks forming a wobbly circle, small hole in ten roof above to allow ventilation for the smoke.

There was a helpful pile of dried logs near the beaten door, clawing onto its hinges desperately. The one saving grace, as it had been pelting down with heavy rain the past ten minutes, the chance of you finding any dry wood outside was slim to absolutely fucking impossible. What made your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach, however, was the single bed pushed into the corner of the room. Thin blanket messily thrown over the questionably stained mattress, two pillows long since lost their plump plush. Two Tatami mats pushed against the opposite wall, probably stoping the wall from tumbling over.

"move" Grimmjow pushed his way into the shack, nudging your shoulder harshly. Shaking him self, not dissimilar to the way a dog would rid its fur of water. Grimmjow looked around the room, Unphased by the grimy appearance. He scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes. "Not up to your standards princess? " he sneered in your direction, foot kicking the rocks around the fire pit. "Afraid you'll break a nail?"

You roll your eyes, refusing to engage in his snappy remarks. Closing the door behind you, silently pleading with it to stay standing at least til morning, you reached down to grab a couple of different sized logs. Stacking them near the fire pit, you pulled off your backpack, digging through your preserves to find your flint and steel and a pouch of dry kindling.

Kneeling onto the cold ground, you arranged the kindling into a loose pile, striking the flint and steel sending sparks into the bundle. When glowing embers caught, you lifted the pile to your mouth, blowing steadily until a small flame licked to life. Satisfied you began placing twigs into a teepee, watching as they caught light. Silently to built up the pile until a controlled fire crackled in the middle of the room, giving off its roaring heat.

Grimmjow had leaned himself against the wall, arms folded over his chest. Legs crossed at the ankles, he had been staring at you, watching as you created fire.

"No thanks Grimmjow, I don't need any help. Thanks for asking" You sarcastically remark. The answering scoff you received at least let you know sarcasm was something even hollows understood. Too tired to cook yourself a meal, you pulled out some jerky and a pre-made rice ball for your dinner. Grimmjow didn't need anything to eat. While, you discovered, he could eat human food, he could also be satisfied by chomping down on smaller hollows.

That was a sight you wouldn't forget in a hurry. The animalistic way he leaped at the hollows you had encountered earlier in the day. Sharp teeth ripping into the flesh of the howling beasts with a sadistic grin on his face. Grimmjow swallowing those mouthful's of hollow flesh was something else entirely.

Banning the memory from your mind so not to completely ruin your appetite, you moved to sit on the bed, trying not to think about what that stain was. Grimmjow hadn't moved from his space as far away from you as the cabin allowed. Mindlessly chewing at your food, your eyes started to wander. His fingers had gripped into his biceps, the indents pushed into the flesh looked painful. He kept shifting his weight between his feet, crossing and uncrossing his ankles.

Your chewing slowed as you regarded him. You were in from the rain, drying nicely from the heat provided by the fire. So why did he look just about ready to claw his own skin off? Perhaps he was dreading the sleeping arrangements as much as you were

"so" you started the awkward conversation after swallowing the last of your light meal. He tilted his chin into your general direction at your conversation starter "how are we doing this?"

He jerked his head fully to you then, eyes widened "we ain't doing anything" his husky voice rumbled. It was your turn to tilt you head, this time in confusion

"sleeping arrangements? There's only one bed" you emphasised the point by tapping the bed below you. You see the realisation dawn on his face before pushing it away with a sneer. You couldn't fathom what he could've been so worried about

"pfft, you take it, don't wanna hear your bitching all night if you had to sleep on the floor." Grimmjow moved to the tatami mats leaning against the wall, throwing them unceremoniously to the ground with a thud. You were pleased to see they weren't hiding a gaping hole in the wall. Grimmjow fell backwards onto the mat, crossing his arms under his head and stared at the wooden roof.

Not letting the comment slide, you picked up one sorry excuse for a pillow, throwing it harder than necessary to flop anticlimactically on Grimmjow's stomach. You received a growl for your efforts. Throwing a couple more robust logs on the fire to ensue heat for hopefully the whole night, you felt confident to change into your sleeping gown and not freeze to death. While it showed more skin than your regulation issued shinigami uniform and as much as you didn't relish in the thought of rolling about on that dirty mattress all night with more on show, you hated the confines of clothing while you slept. You would just have to scrub extra hard in your bath the next day.

Locating your gown in your backpack, you climbed under the covers to change, folding up your uniform neatly and laying it atop your bag. Though it would've been easier staying dry in a shower, you snuggled under the blanket trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. The raging storm outside helped ease you into blissful unconsciousness, hoping that by morning the storm would've passed along with Grimmjows pissy mood

You wouldn't hold your breath though

——————————————————

When your eyes snapped open way too soon for it yet to be morning, you had first assumed it was the storm still raging outside that had woken you up. You remained staring at the wall, not wanting to risk waking Grimmjow, less you wanted to deal with his moody ass at being woken. The fire was still breathing, judging by the heat at your back. You listened to the usual sounds of the storm, rumbling thunder in the distance, they ruthlessly pelting rain hitting the roof, howling wind whipping through the trees. Yet sleep avoided you.

That's when you heard the shuffle of clothes rubbing together and a throaty grunt. You roll your eyes, of course the bastard moved around in his sleep. You tried to force yourself back to sleep, but the noises never stopped. You could hear his knuckles crack as they gripped the side of the tatami mat, puff of air escaping the spongy padding.

He squirmed around noisily, small grunts and husky grumbles accompanying his heavy breathing. You sigh loudly, the room stilling. A pregnant pause followed. Pleased with the silence you closed your eyes again, trying to drift off.

A chesty rumble and a thump that sounded suspiciously like a fist hitting the mat had you flipping over, leaning up on your elbow to glare at the Espada "Grimmjow, what the hell are you doing?"

"Nothing". He tightly snapped at you, lacking the usual hostility. He stared at the roof, refusing to look at you "go back to fucking sleep"

"I can't, with all your moving around and grunting." You try not to sound condescending, but really, who could sleep through all that racket. "What's the problem? Are you cold or something? I could put another log on the fire..?"

"Its rutting season" he growled out deeply, voice so thick and sticky he almost choked on the words... Rutting season? Oh. Oh That'll explain the frenzied look he sported earlier. You were at a loss of what to say, what could you say? Shinigami didn't go through anything so animalistic

"can't you just..? Ignore it?" You ask, ignorance showing

"The fuck do you think I'm doing?" He snapped at you, patience clearly wearing thin

"making a fucking racket" you grumble back "can't you.. step outside.. take care of it?"

He snorted at your suggestion, legs moving around on the mat "damn shinigami, don't know nothing."

"we don't have rutting seasons" you reminded him softly

"It don't fucking work like that. Hands don't work. I gotta knot in a pussy" the crass wording had you sucking in a sharp breath. Not quite the civilised conversation you were anticipating, yet the next words sent a rush of heat rushing through you hotter than the fire itself "so unless your offering, shut the fuck up an go back to sleep"

Offering? To have sex with him? What an absurd notion. And yet... Grimmjow was good looking.. in a demented "I'll murder you and everyone you love" kinda way. Tall and with enough rippling muscles for three men. A cocky grin with surprisingly intriguingly sharp canines. While usually spitting insults, his voice was deep and sultry. And his hair, such an unusual colour, yet it fit him so perfectly.

It had been a while since you had indulged in that cardinal desire, your throbbing cunt attested to that. You could help him out.. if only to finally get some peace and quiet enough to go back to sleep.

"Alright, I'll help you" your voice sounded strained to your own ears. Grimmjow sat up suddenly at your words, staring at you as though you sprouted another head

"the fuck you just say?" Utter bewilderment filled his voice, lilt of eagerness filtering through

"I said, alright"it pained you to admit it, twice. "I won't be able to get any damn sleep until you stop moving around"

Grimmjow pounced across the room, literally leaping through the air and landing easily on your bed. Feverish hands ripped off your blanket, eliciting a squeak of surprise from you at his eager haste. Rough large hands ripped your gown from your body, jagged line separating the cloth covering your body. You glared at him, for ruining your favourite sleeping gown. He payed not attention, throwing the scraps of ruined material over the side of the bed.

He had a crazed look in his eyes, taken over with the animalistic urge to mate. His chest heaved with heavy breaths as he removed his own top, you noticed how he didn't rip his clothing. Surging forward Grimmjow buried his nose into your neck, inhaling deeply. Your scent filled his nostrils, eliciting a rumbling deep from his chest. You cry out as he bit down brutally, sharp teeth sinking into the flesh where neck joins shoulder.

His hips bucked against your covered core at the tang of blood seeping through to his tongue, deep rumbling escaping around the mouthful of neck he had in his mouth, reminding you of the purr of a cat. A big fucking cat. Mercifully releasing you, he swiped a strong, hot lick against the wound, cleaning up the drops of blood pulled out. Seemingly finished marking you, Grimmjow pushed away his pants, large cock bobbing heavily between you. Your eyes went wide at the sight, throat drying painfully.

He was huge. While similar to that of humans, it was bigger than any you had previously seen, by quite a few generous inches. And thick, you wouldn't be able to close your hand around the veiny girth to touch your fingertips. You couldn't tell if the weight appearing in your lower stomach was from dread or lustful excitement at the knowledge it would soon be inside you.

Ignoring your inner turmoil, Grimmjow ripped your panties off you next, throwing the scrap of material to join the rest. Angry retort died on your lips as he surged forward, attempting to thrust into you

"wait!" You nearly scream, holding him back by planting your hands firmly on his chest, twisting your leg to cover your opening. He gave you a warning growl, hand gripping your thigh roughly to move it back from denying him access, crazed instincts telling him to mount. The punch to the jaw you delivered brought him back to his senses some what

"what?" He asked through clenched teeth, finally making eye contact

"you can't just force it in" you said pointedly, glancing down at the angry purpling head of his dick. He gave you a questioning look, head tilted to the side in a feline manor. "You got to get me wet first"

Grimmjow rolled his eyes, crawling down your body he crouched down to be eye level with your core, before spitting loudly straight onto your cunt. You felt the hot liquid hit you, and recoiled at the grotesque action. Your mind almost short circuited when he tried again to mount you. You planted a foot on his chest this time, pushing him back.

"fucking now what?!" he almost roared at you, getting frustrated at being denied what had already been offered.

"not like that ,you brute!"

"fucking woman! You said wet, that's wet!" He let out his frustration by pushing against your leg planted on his chest

"We aren't naturally wet inside, Grimmjow. We need to be stimulated by foreplay,". You spoke to him slowly, like teaching a child "you need to use your fingers or tongue to stretch me, your dick will rip me otherwise " you begrudgingly add, he definitely didn't need the ego boost of knowing he was very well endowed. He caught the meaning anyway, cocky smirk making a reappearance on his face. "Try and make me actually want to fuck you, for fucks sake" you add exasperated, flopping back onto the pillow.

This time you allowed him to remove your foot from his chest, letting it fall to the side, opening up your thighs. His wet, warm tongue suddenly tasted you in a steady lick up the slit of your cunt. You sigh, letting your eyes close to savour the feelings, letting yourself relax enough to enjoy it. He repeated the action, delving in between your folds a little more with every lick.

Grimmjow let his mouth salivate at the new taste, his animalistic side relishing in the musky taste of a mate. Letting his spit slide down onto his tongue to leave on your silky hot folds. A breathy moan escapes you, shooting straight to Grimmjows throbbing, neglected cock. He gave an answering growl, plunging his tongue deep into your depths, patience slowly but surly hitting their limits.

He needed to start rutting, and soon. Your own natural lubricant began coating his tongue, setting his tastebuds alight with the heady taste. Pushing his face in deeper, chasing the slightly salty tang, his nose brushed against something that made you jerk below him with a loud moan. He pulled out of you, lower face dampened by his sloppy work, in search for what made you call out.

At the top of your dusky pink cunt was a small protruding bump, inquisitively, he brushed his finger against it. Another moan ripped from you, back arching from the bed, thrusting your hips up encouragingly. Grimmjow rubbed against it again, getting the same reaction.

Not letting up on his thumb pressing against the little button that had you bucking like a bitch in heat, Grimmjow shoved two fingers inside you roughly. He could feel your tight inner walls sucking around his fingers, clenching them tightly. Thrusting them in and out quickly, gaining hardly any give in your vice like grip, Grimmjow sped up his movements, practically punching his knuckles either side of his submerged digits into the soft flesh on your pussy.

You writhed beneath him, pleasure outshining the pain he inflicted on your sensitive mound. A steady stream of appreciative moans left your lips, turning into keening groans as he added another finger, stretching you out in preparation for his even larger phallic. Lost in a sea of contradictory feelings, you didn't feel your orgasm approaching until it crashed over you, pulling you deeper into a spiral of blind bliss.

Grimmjow felt the sudden gush of liquid on his fingers, getting pushed out messily by his thrusting fingers. First he sneered, assuming you had disgustingly wet yourself, pissing all over his hand. Until his sensitive nose picked up the scent, the same heady musk he had tasted from within you. Mouth watering, wanting to taste the tangy substance once more, Grimmjow removed his soaked fingers, going straight to the source to drink down the glistening wetness.

Lust filled fog lifted slowly from your mind, feeling Grimmjow greedily lap at your spasming Cunt, you tried to push his head away. Grimmjow possessively growled into you, gripping your thighs to stop you denying him his reward.

"Grimmjow" you called to him to no prevail, he ignored your voice, lapping at you hungrily. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging sharply. Like a cornered beast he pinned you to the bed by your wrists, staring challengingly into your eyes with a predatory look. His mouth was wet with your arousal, you could smell your scent on his chin as he tumbled above you in warning.

"Grimmjow," you tried again, submissively lowering your tone, whispering meekly. "You need to leave it wet, so you don't hurt me with your cock"

The mention of his cock seemed to remind him of the aching member hanging heavily between you. Releasing you with a huff, Grimmjow fisted himself, groaning at the full tug he gave himself. Lining up with your centre, he pushed in swiftly, burying himself as deep as he could go, stopping only when the engorged head of his dick bumped against your cervix. You cry out at the sudden intrusion, painfully stretching you beyond your limits. Your inner walls protested at the too big invasion, squeezing painfully around it.

Tears stung your eyes, mouth gasping to pull air into your lungs. It was too big, too much to handle. Grimmjow didn't allow you any time to adjust to the size, rutting his hips into you feverishly, cardinal desire to breed consuming his mind. You felt the burn as his rigid cock dragged against your walls, pushing against them unbending. Small sparks of pleasure tried to push through the overwhelming stretch, Grimmjow hitting every sweet spot mercilessly with each frenzied thrust. You concluded he was too big, too thick to miss, accuracy wouldn't be needed.

Grimmjows chest rumbled with a constant primal gravel. Pupils blown wide, the Panthera focused his gaze on the vivid bite mark on your neck. Powerful hips thrusted into you cruelly, chasing after his cardinal need to procreate. Dipping his head, Grimmjows lips found the swell of your breast, sucking the soft flesh into his mouth to clamp his teeth into. The cry you gave only spurred him on to leave his mark. The jagged tenth of his broken hollow mask scraped against your nipple, spike of pleasure burst through the pain.

At your whimper Grimmjow released you, deranged look in his eyes. You flinched when he lowered himself to your face, tilting your head to the side as a strained moan ripped from your throat. Half expecting another bite, your eyes closed, bracing for the new flash of pain. Instead of the sharp bite, you felt his tongue drag slowly up your cheek. The saltiness from your sweat flavoured your skin, Grimmjow hungrily sought out the delicacy, licking at your face protectively.

Rutting instincts being satisfied, the demented haze lessened enough for Grimmjow to filter through is own thoughts and wants. Seeing you panting beneath him, squirming in pleasure, face screwed up in painful bliss was a beautiful sight. But it wasn't what he wanted, what the alpha demanded of his willing mate.

The rough withdrawal of his dick had you gasping at the reprieve, legs fell flat to the bed heavily,muscles twitching in protest. The gap in the brutal penetration was short lived, however, when Grimmjow used his superior strength to throw you to your stomach. Equilibrium fighting to right itself, two large hands gripped painfully into your hips, forcibly dragging you to your knees. Round ass held in the air, glistening cunt on full display for his viewing pleasure.

The Espada slid his hand up the length of your back, cupping the back of your neck to push your face into the mattress. Pushing your hair away from the most delicate part of your neck, portraying the Vulnerable submission the alpha so desperately seeked. He thrusted his dick back into your dripping heat, claiming his mate.

Your back arched at the reappearance of his cock stretching you sinfully. Groaning with the wet slapping of skin meeting skin. Fingers dug into the fleshy part of your ass, kneeling the swell in his palms. Grimmjow had his eyes fixated on the way your ass rippled with every thrust, his cock disappearing into your hot, tight hole. Your wetness spraying out with every plunge, wetting his lower stomach and thighs.

The smell was intoxicating, addicting. Breathing deep he could almost taste the musky aroma, eliciting a feline hiss. His hands spread your ass cheeks revealing your puckered hole. Spitting loudly he watched as his saliva trickled down the valley between your cheeks, sliding over that hidden hole. Using a finger to gather the moisture, not wanting you to bitch at him again, the arrancar pushed his way through the tight ring of muscles.

You yelped at the sudden intrusion, spent body easily accepting the new addition as you laid heavily into the mattress. His brutal thrusts hadn't let up through his curious exploration, steadily pushing you further towards the most natural of highs. Grimmjows chest swelled with pride of having calmed both of your holes, muscles squeezing devilishly tight.

The heat encasing his cock was driving him wild, with feral intensity, the instincts to breed filled him. Slipping from your ass, he gripped your hips bruisingly, snapping you back onto his rutting cock brutally. The pleasure filled scream you have had his balls tightening. He could feel the knot forming in the middle of his dick, getting caressed by the tight velvety walls with each drag of his impressive length

"m'gunna fill you full of pups" he growled out, panting harshly "gunna fill your cunt with my seed"

You scream out in pleasure, the knot forming inside you pushing against your already straining walls, rubbing roughly against your pleasure spot hidden away in your depths. "Your mine" the growled word's emphasised with increasingly powerful thrusts. A hand left your hip, wrapping it around your throat to pull you back into a painful bend. "My mate"

Sharp teeth sunk into the back of your neck, latching on viciously. Hot pants forced through his teeth, heating up the bruising skin trapped in their hold. A bright light burst from behind your eyes as you descended into euphoric darkness. Violent tremors raked through your body as you convulsed around the dick forcing you into the most powerful orgasm you had ever endured. The strong hold on your neck the only thing keeping you from spiralling into the darkness threatening to pull you under.

The impossibly tight, the cunt surrounding his cock clamped down. Grimmjow erratically rutted into you in short bursts, knot no longer allowing him to pull out from your sopping channel. The knot snapped in a painful burst, seed rushing from him in blinding pleasure. The Panthera released the hold his teeth had on your neck to yowl loudly into the room. Hips stilling as his seed erupted inside you, filling you with his hot cum.

The lustful instinct to mate melted away at his release. Control over his mind filtered back slowly, allowing him to see the state he had left you in. Angry teethmarks sat proudly at the back of your neck. Slumped forward in his hold, your sweat soaked body hung limply, raggedly sucking in desperate breaths.

Laying himself across your back, Grimmjow Manoeuvered you both to lay down on the small bed on your sides. Knotted cock still buried deep inside you, Grimmjow moulded himself to your back, wrapping his arm around you protectively. On the brink of sleep you squirm, wincing at the pinch in your abused pussy caused by the pull of the knot keeping him in.

"stay still" his gruff voice held a semblance care, large hand soothing over the bruises left by his fingers on your hips "y'gotta let it go down or it'll rip ya apart"

Your body pushed to the brink of what it could take started to shiver, muscles periodically twitching as they relaxed. Thinking you were cold, Grimmjow grabbed the sorry excuse for a blanket, draping it over you. Head buried in your neck, Grimmjow soothed the marks left there with his tongue, methodically licking over the wounds, soothing the dull throbbing.

Arm wrapped protectively around you, slowly deflating cock nestled deeply within you, you fell into unconsciousness with Grimmjows cool tongue lapping at your skin. Satisfied you were cleaned up enough, Grimmjow tightened the hold he had on you, savouring the feel of his cock being warmed by your hole, full to the brim with his seed. Burying his head in your hair, letting your smell fill his senses as he joined you in sleep he so desperately needed, whispering a single word as he succumbed to the pull

"mine"

#bleach #bleach fandom #bleach fanfiction #grimmjow x you #grimmjow x reader #grimmjow smut #grimmjow jaegerjaquez #bleach smut #bleach x reader

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doumadono · 8 months

Note

If it's not too much trouble for you, can you make the nsfw alphabet for Shoto, pretty please? 🥺 (Ik your requests are closed so I'm truly sorry for reaching out but I love your alphabet for Bakugou)

Warnings: aged-up Shoto (21 yo)

MASTERLIST

A - aftercare He'll always ensure you're well-cared for. He'll assist you in the shower, placing sweet kisses all over your body. Later, he'll cuddle with you until you drift off to sleep in his comforting embrace, feeling safer than ever

B - body part He is in love with your neck – the way you softly moan his name when he gently sucks on your pulse point is sufficient to ignite his senses, setting them ablaze. Shoto is a huge fan of your hips as well

C - cum Shoto likes to finish inside you because it creates the most intimate and passionate connection between you both

D - dirty secret He harbors secret fantasies of complete submission to you, even embracing degradation

E - experience You are his first and only. He lacked any prior sexual experience before meeting you, but he's a fast learner and naturally gifted at providing pleasure

F - favorite position He finds immense pleasure when you ride him because it grants you the opportunity to control the speed and tempo, not to mention the enticing possibility of grasping your hips as well

G - goofy He views sex as an intensely intimate act and is wholly committed to ensuring you have the most enjoyable experience possible, leaving no room for frivolity

H - hair He keeps himself neat, and yes, the carpet does indeed match the drapes 😏

I - intimacy For Shoto, sex is a deeply intimate experience. It involves almost constant eye contact, ample body contact and caressing, hand holding, and fervent kisses

J - jack off He doesn't masturbate at all. No matter how horny he is, he's going to wait for you to take care of him ♥

K - kinks Temperature play - the uncertainty of whether his hands or tongue will be cold, hot, or a mix of both keeps you in a constant state of anticipation and excitement

Edging - as you edge him, it makes him a blushing and whimpering mess

Praising - Shoto'll lose it instantly if he hears you telling him how good he's eating you out/fucking you

L - location For him, sex is a manifestation of intimacy and trust, and he believes that the bedroom is the most intimate place for the two of you to connect intimately

M - motivation You dressed in a sexy, lacy lingerie is an instant turn-on for him

N - no He's unwilling to cause you any harm, and he's certainly not open to allowing anyone else to touch you. Threesomes are completely off the table

O - oral This man has been blessed by the heavens with his mouth and he does magic using it along with his tongue on you - it's probably because he truly listens to your needs

P - pace He prefers the more sensual stuff so it is no surprise that he tends to take it soft and slow

Q - quickie Quickies are a no-go for Shoto - he'd prefer to wait and engage in proper, intimate sex with you

R - risks He isn’t really into taking risks - Shoto knows what he likes and he sticks to it

S - stamina Shoto's been dedicated to hero training practically his whole life, and as he grows older, his rigorous training regimen doesn't wane. Consequently, he can go through a substantial number of rounds before even beginning to feel fatigued

T - toys He's not particularly fond of toys, but he certainly won't forbid you from keeping them if they bring you pleasure

U - unfair Shoto teases you unconsciously, for example when he playfully traces his fingers along your thigh during a quiet moment on the couch, being blissfully unaware that his touch is setting your senses on fire instantly

V - volume He tends to be quite reserved in general, often emitting soft, drawn-out groans that are almost angelic during moments of intimacy. When he does speak to you during sex, his voice is exceptionally low and husky

W - wildcard Shoto has entertained numerous thoughts about allowing you to tie him up and fully dominate him. You're the only person in the world he trusts completely and feels safe enough to be vulnerable around

X - x-ray Shoto's not too thick, but is definitely long with a curve going up. He’s well above average at 7”

Y - yearning His sex drive is just a bit above average

Z - zzz He would never fall asleep before you - his priority is ensuring that you're sleeping peacefully, securely nestled in his arms, before he allows himself to drift into slumber

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cocopop-04 · 4 months

Text

He stared out the car window, unwilling to be the first to speak as Jack Drake drove them home from Wayne Manor.

“I don’t believe this,” Jack fumed.

Tim stayed silent.

“How did this even happen, Timothy? How did you manage to get recruited to become Robin, to fight crime for years?” They pulled into the driveway and Jack stopped the car, but neither of them moved. Jack’s breath was coming in harsh puffs, a telltale sign of his anger, and Tim just wanted to go back to the silence.

“I wasn’t recruited,” Tim said, still staring out the window. “I stole the armour and then forced him to train me.”

“What – why? Wait, you know what. How did you even manage to keep this a secret?” he sneered.

Die. Die, die die die die, drop dead, his mind chanted at the man beside him.

Tim had had enough of it. He turned to look at Jack, relished at the way he flinched back from whatever he saw on Tim’s face.

“Oh, I wonder,” Tim started, his voice mockingly cold. “I was left alone in the house for months at a time. The staff weren’t even there – they assumed I was travelling with you. Mrs Mac only came by once a week to cook the meals so that I didn’t starve, not that you would have noticed either way. There wasn’t even any effort on my part, I didn’t even need to keep it a secret. You were too busy gallivanting across the globe to even realise you had a son.” Tim’s voice steadily rose, till he was almost shouting at the man before him. He took a breath, reigned in the anger and got control of himself. Tim’s face shuttered off, and there was no hint of anything left to show.

“Thank you for driving me,” Tim said in a pleasant tone as he exited the car.

From my fic Fallen Heroes on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51847429

#dc #ao3 link #dc comics #dcu #fanfic #tim drake #jack drake #batfamily #batman #bruce wayne #batman and robin #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #unhinged tim drake #cocopop's fics #cocopop's posts

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squirmifyoulike · 2 months

Text

Content warning: light betrayal vore, unwilling vore, semi-painful digestion

Kind of love the idea of a hero that still has to consume.

Nobody knows about their diet; they show up in restaurants and grocery stores, where they're showered with attention for their good deeds, for defeating any villains or monsters.

But little does the public know - the hero themself is a monster.

Every few months, they wear a disguise, concealing their identity... And then they head to a strip club. Only... This club is special. The patrons get to buy the dancers and do virtually whatever they want with them. Depending on how much you pay, you can only keep them temporarily... Or permanently.

The hero has never needed to worry about money, so, they survey the club, looking for their next meal. Eventually, they find one - a beautiful woman dancing on stage. She seems to be enjoying herself... But at the same time, there's a hint of anxiety in her eyes.

The hero goes to speak to the manager, and they make the appropriate payment needed to secure their next meal. After a few minutes of waiting, watching the woman dance, someone goes to speak to her. She finishes up, and then gets off stage, joining what looks like a bodyguard. A few people try to sneak in touches as she walks past, but her bodyguard pushes away anyone that gets too close.

Soon enough, the duo have reached the hero.

"Here you are. Enjoy." The bodyguard says, and soon, they've disappeared.

The woman looks nervous now. The hero's stomach is starting to growl and twist in hunger... But they're kind. They gently place a hand on the woman's back to guide her, and they quietly utter, "Come along." And the woman follows without protest.

They head into a private room, one that's already made up and prepared for guests. The hero locks the door behind them... And then, they turn to the woman.

This part is always kind of awkward. The woman is no doubt expecting the hero to push her onto the bed, to tear off their clothes and... Well.

But the hero has no intention of that. Even though the next few hours are going to be miserable for her... The hero still wants to be kind and gentle in the last few moments.

So, the hero pulls the woman into a kiss - a gentle kiss. The woman seems shocked, but she reciprocates, and after a few moments, she relaxes, and even melts into the hero.

And that's when they make their move.

They open their mouth wide and take the woman in, gulping gently. It's such a smooth motion that the woman clearly hasn't even realized what's going on yet. The hero is experienced with this; in just a few swallows, she's halfway down their gullet. By this point, she's surely realized what's going on. As if on cue, she starts to squirm and writhe... But she's too far gone now. Just a few more swallows, and she's gone, disappearing past the hero's lips forever.

Their stomach swells and sags to accommodate their meal, and the fabric of their uniform stretches over their engorged stomach. Now this feeling is one they can never get enough of - the afterglow of having just fed. They lumber over to the bed and sit down heavily, blowing out a breath. Their stomach lets out a low grumble, and it begins to undulate and contract around its unwilling occupant.

"Sorry, darling," The hero murmurs, running their hands over their swollen belly. As far as the hero knows, digestion isn't exactly painful... But it's not comfortable, either, with the prey being squished into a ball and squeezed and groped by fleshy stomach walls.

The hero's stomach shifts and bucks a little as their meal squirms and writhes. She even makes a few pleas from within... But it's too heavily muffled by fat, muscle, and fabric to be discerned.

"Try to get comfortable," The hero whispers. "We'll be getting rather acquainted with each other over the next few hours."

As if on cue, a loud, low gurgle emanates from the hero's stomach.

It ends up taking a LOT longer than just a few hours. The squirms pick up in intensity as digestion ramps up. Try as they might, the hero can't resist letting soft moans fall from their lips. This just feels so GOOD. Soon enough, the sounds of digestion pick up, too, and it starts to get loud. If anyone was walking past the hero's room and stopped to listen, they'd have a good idea of what exactly was going on.

Unfortunately for the prey... It's not going to end well. By the end of the night, they'll be pumping through the pred's bowels, digested and churned into submission by the hero's powerful stomach.

#v.ore #tw vore #vore tw #soft vore #fatal vore #digestion #tw fatal vore #implied digestion #unwilling prey #female prey #ambiguous pred #semi-painful digestion

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ellestra · 1 year

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Lifecycles of Disposable Beings

One of the things I really hoped for in the Guardians of the Galaxy Vol.3 movie that it would remember that Rocket and Nebula were for five years the only surviving Guardians. That they became heroes and helped save the Universe and defeat Thanos twice. Not only for the friendship they developed but also because this movie has shown how similar they really are and how important it must’ve been to have each other. And I got my wish in such a perfect way.

Neither of them expresses emotions easily so it’s there in a little things. It first shows a bit when she gets him Bucky’s arm for Christmas and he made her her new one that she then uses to stab and ward off his attacker. The way Nebula fights for him from the start unwilling to let him die and pulling all of her family – including Gamora she kept from away from Guardians all this time. The subtle ways she looks devastated both by his injury and then by what she discovers when she reads his implants and then his history. The way she is the first person Rocket asks about when he wakes up (sure she was hailing but he noticed). How he instantly agrees to help save the kids. And of course the big one is her breaking down in tears when she hears his voice. Mantis has too speak for her because she is so overwhelmed by relief.

They were both remade to be of use to others without their consent and for purposes not their ow. They lost the family that meant everything to them along the way but they got through the worst of it together and I was so happy to see them be there for each other.

And I loved so much that Nebula gets to use her extensions to save Rocket (and people in general). Throughout all the movies so far we saw the changes Thanos implemented in her through the lens of the pain and suffering it caused her. We see it used against her and against those she holds dear (in Infinity War it’s her torture when being taken apart again is what brakes Gamora and leads to her death, in Endgame Nebula her own mind is used against her will – she doesn’t even own her thoughts because her father took even that). But now she finally owns it all and can use it as she wants. She can choose her own modifications – get rid of her face implants and get a new arm. She can use the fact that her body can fix itself and she can connect to databases with her mind for the benefit of her friends. She decides how to be and who she becomes.

And this too is mirrored in Rocket. High Evolutionary can consider him proprietary technology and think he owns his mind but he never did. He only gave Rocket parts all the true advancements Rocket built himself with a little help from his friends. All the real sparks of invention were really Rocket’s all along and he was always perfect in all his imperfections. There was always love and generosity there that he even tried to extend to the High Evolutionary but there was nothing in that man that could appreciate it. But there were people who cherished it and helped it grow until Rocket too could accept all the parts of himself and fully embrace his past and create his own future.

In defiance of another a bad father, because what would MCU be without them, and Guardians certainly have the worst (Thanos, Ego, High Evolutionary – you cannot pick a worst bunch). But as bad as Thanos and Ego were we only really watched them through the eyes of the adults they damaged. We see what Thanos’ “love” did to Nebula and Gamora in the scars on their bodies and souls but we never see their childhood pain directly. We experience their fear and hate and lashing out at others and each other but we are spared the gore of what happened (at east on screen). And we only see the remains of the countless lives Ego destroyed on his quest to become a God with capital G. The children he discarded when they didn’t fulfil his expectations. The lives he deemed unworthy once he realized they were of no use to him.

High Evolutionary combines both of them and we get to see it close and personal. This one shows us how it looked from the start when Rocket was too new to know how little he mattered to the one who created to him. Oh, Rocket knew he didn’t care about his pain and the callousness he treated the ones he deemed failure and how easily the anger and abuse came. This is why he stole the parts whenever he could. But P13 still had hope that if he’s useful enough he and his friends would get a reward and be allowed to live under the sky instead of the filthy cage in some dark storage room. He hoped for a better future until he was told he was only parts. That his friends were only mistakes. That there was no future for them.

And what could he do but disagree and fight back? But even that rightful anger ended in tragedy. Standing up to injustice doesn’t guarantee success. Those he tried to save died and he lost everything. No wonder he’s so scared to try again through out the first two Guardians movies. But his new family allows him space to try and when he loses them Nebula is there to help get him through that loss again. He doesn't end up all alone this time.

It was so heartbreaking to see the casual cruelty of the High Evolutionary – from the big picture to the small details. The little things like dirty, unkempt cages where they are left while their wounds mend. And the cruelty of the whole uplifting process that only cares about the perfection as the end result but never troubles itself with pain of its subjects. Creating perfection to keep it imprisoned and forever subservient – even when they are allowed to be a civilization, they are never free and, like the Sovereign or Counter-Earth, still can be destroyed anytime. And it always will be because perfect creation is nothing but a lie High Evolutionary tells himself.

High Evolutionary could’ve never accepted a creation that would really be what he strives for because that he would have to set them free and he could never relinquish control. He would also have to accept that there would be someone greater than him and he cannot abide that. He spends so much time chasing Rocket to see what made him creative but even if he found it in Rocket’s brain he could never use it. He can’t stand Rocket being smarter than him and seeing the solution he missed. High Evolutionary, always needs to be in control and to keep that he could never let anyone be better than him at anything. This is really why batch 89 had to die. He couldn’t stand someone surpassing him at anything. Especially not someone he considered so inferior.

So he is constantly disappointed by his creations and destroys them whenever he makes something newer and shinier. The Counter-Earth is destroyed with all its animal hybrid inhabitants – including the nice bat family Peter charmed into helping them and we barely have time to notice. At least with Rocket’s friends we have time to be properly horrified by High Evolutionary’s cruelty and he at least gets punished for it. But a whole planet of sentient creatures gets lost in explosions and the only one given a moment is Ayesha – everyone else is lost while we only think of saving Rocket. And then saving Nebula, Drax and Mantis.

And it’s horrifying because we learn that all that High Evolutionary’s creations really needed is care and time. We see it with batch 89 and with all the others. The kids they save might've not been creative enough just after he made them but look at Phyla in the New Guardians being her own person. Adam Warlock was naïve and dumb but he was awakened too early and after that he clearly learns fast. He even learnt empathy in 2 days - something High Evolutionary hasn’t managed in centuries. And Sovereign probably can learn too once free of High Evolutionary’s toxic ideas of perfection. There was more to the Counter-Earth than crime and they too could’ve been great once not trapped in the 1980s hellscape High Evolutionary put them in. High Evolutionary’s real failure is not seeing any of that.

All of them needed just time and love and High Evolutionary didn’t have it for any of them. Not for Warlock in his cocoon. Not for 89P13 who fixed his process. There was always the next shiny thing and the last one was left rotting in filth until it was incinerated.

This is all explains Rocket we know from the movies so well. This why he is kleptomaniac with compulsive need to collect technology – it saved him and you should be wary of those who hoard it. It also explains why was so self-sabotaging with his new family. Letting himself love them meant hurt if he lost them and he lost them all. The devastation of the Snap hits even harder now. But this time he at least had Nebula. He had someone who could really understand how deep that pain was even without the details.

Outside of High Evolutionary’s control Rocket has grown into someone who could weather the loss and came and save his new family and have them save him in return. Then they saved everyone they could from the High Evolutionary because he didn’t deserve any of his creations. They were all too good for him.

In the end we see the new Guardians of the Galaxy combining Rocket’s different families. They are made of people who were like Rocket made by High Evolutionary and the ones who joined the Guardians in previous instalments. He started with nothing and too afraid to try this friends and family thing again and look at him now – leader of this team. Working well with others. All of them getting the best of their second chances. And saving the Galaxy along the way.

And somewhere out there on Knowhere Nebula and Drax make sure they all always have a home to come back to.

#guardians of the galaxy #gotg #guardians of the galaxy vol 3 #gotg vol 3 #guardians of the galaxy spoilers #guardians of the galaxy 3 #gotg3 #gotg3 spoilers #gotg spoilers #nebula #rocket raccoon #nebula gotg #adam warlock #phyla vell #the sovereign #counter-earth #high evolutionary #gotg nebula #batch 89

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vasquez-rocks · 2 months

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in the spirit of "o'brien doesn't actually suffer the most, it's just that all his suffering takes place in special Suffering Episodes": a complete ranking of ds9 characters by how much they suffer

(including recurring guest stars but not villains. i don't care how much gul dukat suffers. he could get hit by a fucking bus for all i care!!) 1. kira nerys. undefeated galactic suffering champion. literally goes back in time to find out if her mom died in a concentration camp when she was a small child like she thought and somehow the answer she gets is, to her, EVEN WORSE THAN THAT. o'brien could never.

2. odo. lab experiment childhood, spends 5 seasons pining tragically for the station’s most eligible terrorist, seeks his family only to find out they're genocidal maniacs, every small innocent being he tries to parent either dies or runs away, he has to return to said family to end a war! odo suffers so much actually??

3. benjamin sisko. loses his wife, becomes an unwilling messiah, forced to leave his family (the most important thing), etc.

4. miles o'brien. ok fine sure he does suffer a lot. not like kira does tho!!

5. garak. most of his suffering is pre-show but that suffering is BAROQUE. and then daddy never tells him he loves him and he indirectly causes his mother’s death

6. nog. after 6 seasons of minimal suffering, our baby boy suffers a LOT

7. jake sisko. not counting "the visitor" (it was a different timeline!). if the show put Jake through any additional suffering, i would wail and cry. His primary sufferings are pre-show (mom's death) and end-of-show (dad is gone and can't say when he'll return), but they are significant. at least he has, and loves, a wonderful stepmom!

8. kassidy yates. SPEAKING OF. her primary suffering is going to jail for the standard federation prison sentence (6 months, which is also what garak got for attempted genocide!!!!!), but then also losing her beloved husband to the celestial temple like almost immediately after, which is kind of a lot

9. keiko o'brien. a lot of miles’ suffering is hers also, and also she gets possessed by a demon after spending the first few seasons trying to find a new fulfilling job despite her husband moving her, a botanist, to a barren space station on which all life withers

10. jadzia dax. happy-go-lucky sex worm who has never experienced a "problem" until gul dukat throws a death basketball at her at age 35, so idk it evens out

11. julian bashir. gets kidnapped a lot and has a backstory so angsty that it's hard to tell whether he's even technically the same person he once was. HOWEVER, he's a goofy lil sexual harasser which makes it very easy to overlook his suffering!

12. worf. virtually all of his suffering is his own fault and he universally responds to it by creating more suffering for his own perverse ends. however, he does get disgraced from his people (his fault), lose his wife (not his fault but also why was she the only person left on the station when she literally FLIES THE SHIP most of the time??), and refuses to ever have fun (his fault)

13. leeta. perky and happy. in a great marriage. loves her stepson! unionized her workplace! however she is not at the bottom of this list because she is (a) a child of the occupation and (b) has to put up with fuckin quark

14. ezri dax. contrary to her frequently expressed beliefs, many things are easy for ezri

15. quark. when he suffers it's hijinks

16. rom. rom's character development is entirely positive. he goes from being the put upon idiot brother to the self-actualized leader of his people who has a son who loves him and a beautiful wife. the worst thing that happens to him specifically is probably when he masturbates so hard he almost dies and even then the result is he becomes a hero to labor in both his world and ours. things go ludicrously well for him at every turn. he is the winner of ds9

#ds9 #deep space nine #star trek #jadzia dax #kira nerys #benjamin sisko #odo #ezri dax #julian bashir #worf #miles o'brien #suffering #the human condition #also bajoran condition i guess #rom #nog #quark

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coffeegnomee · 3 days

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Why the Eclipse Federation is so beloved for so long. An essay about Story.

In the book “Story Genius: How to use brain science to go beyond outlining and write a riveting novel” author Lisa Cron proposes:

“What drives a story forward is, at first blush, invisible. It’s not talent. It’s not voice. It’s not the plot. Think electricity. The same way even the most powerful lamp is useless unless it’s plugged in, a story can’t engage readers without the electricity that illuminates the plot, the voice, and the talent, bringing them to life.

The question is: what, specifically, generates that juice?

The answer is: it flows directly from how the protagonist is making sense of what’s happening, how she struggles with, evaluates, and weighs what matters most to her, and then makes hard decisions, moving the action forward. This is not a general struggle, but one based on the protagonist’s impossible goal: to achieve her desire and remain true to the fear that’s keeping her from it. As we’ll explore in detail, story is not about the plot, or what happens. Story is about how the things that happen in the plot affect the protagonist, and how he or she changes internally as a result” (bold added)

And more to the point, “You can’t write about how someone changes unless you know, specifically, what they’re changing from.”

———

Where we begin

We launch the Eclipse Federation arc with PrinceZam telling his tale to ItzSubz_ in Detroit. Zam has just left his team because they duped thousands of items, terrorized the server, and were unwilling to let go of this unfair advantage. He tells how he battled them on the nether roof, lost everything, and was exiled. He was chased down, followed to his castle and was terrorized every day until he was killed over and over (#stonesword). He’s lost everything. He needs a team, he needs friends.

This is where our story begins, a hero who has a specific and definitive backstory, something that compels him to reach out to our inciting incident: speaking to Subz when he’s on 2 hearts.

Subz, seeing everything that has happened, sympathizes with Zam citing that he thinks they have both been wronged by the server and it’s time they stopped letting that happen.

This is where the tragedy begins.

Subz operates under the assumption that Zam wants to get back at those who wronged him. Zam agrees with this in the moment.

But Subz fails to realize that it is the exploits that caused Zam to be wronged: if the exploits hadn’t happened, if the dupe war hadn’t happened, Zam would never have left his team and he, in turn, would never have been terrorized for weeks.

And above anything else, Subz fails to realize that Zam does not want to be on a team that exploits.

Our hero, with a definitive backstory, is placed in a situation that directly places tension on that selfsame backstory.

The days go by and the team, now including Vitalasy, grows together, bonding over shared fights, laughing and joking, creating silly bedrooms with the most obnoxious blocks possible.

All is well.

Then Ashswag reveals that he can one-tap any player, in any amount of armor, he has seemingly infinite amounts of totems, and he’s acting like he’s on a power trip, giggling and evading questions.

Exploits have returned to the LifestealSMP.

Zam’s heart sinks as he realizes that something huge is brewing on the server. And it’s worse than any duped item he previously had been involved with.

Confused and hurt, he reaches out to his team to figure out what their next steps will be. How they’ll fight this disaster.

But tragedy strikes again. Thanks to the beauty of streamed content, Subz accidentally goes live instead of starting a recording and he reveals that he and Vitalasy are the cause of these new exploited items and that they are very upset with Ash for showing them off. Because of this mistake, they decide to tell Zam everything.

Suddenly, against all odds, against all logic, against all reason, our main character is once again on a team who is using exploits and is unwilling to let them go.

It baffles the mind. How could he have been so clear with Subz about the reason behind him leaving Team Awesome and Subz still let him on the team knowing they had this exploit plan.

Once again it’s the beauty of streamed content that has brought our main charater into the most absurd of situations: they’re friends. Genuinely. Outside of content. Of course Subz brought him onto the team. Why would he not.

The reasons for the situation are simple, but the gravity of them affects Zam deeply.

Our hero has to face a situation that directly relates to his past, as struggle of friendship vs values.

No longer is this a situation of school yard bullying, creating obsidian prisons at spawn and using duplicated items to win fights; this is an apocalyptic situation. Lifesteal season 4 will end if this exploit is not stopped. What was obsidian is now bedrock, what was duped netherite is now one-tap potions, what was once withers destroying spawn are now mysterious creatures that kill players instantly.

So our hero has to face not only the apocalypse, but also himself. Battling against his love of his friends and his need for community and safety, while also battling for the safety of everyone on the server.

These streams slowly unfold a dark reality that anyone who has every been in a bad relationship has had to face. What do you do when the person you love is no longer recognizable?

When your values are no longer aligned, have never been aligned?

Do you leave them? Do you stay? Do you hope you can change them?

How do you process the fact that they lied to you, let you in knowing that you are diametrically opposed to something that they were secretly doing? How do you process that it was an accident? That you hadn’t communicated the depth of the importance of this value (not exploiting) well enough so they didn’t pick up on it as important to communicate from the start?

How do reconcile lies that are told to your face? How do you stand up for yourself in the face of gaslighting?

To quote Lisa Cron again, “The purpose of story - of every story - is to help us interpret, and anticipate, the actions of ourselves and of others.” (bold added)

This is the foundation of why this arc was so tragic, so compelling. Why it sticks in my mind for over a year now, the details as clear and crisp as the day I watched the streams. I can still see the actions being played out in that Minecraft blocky world like it was yesterday. The deepslate tiles of the communication room, the glowing yellow and purple and red signs, the prison in the sky, the exchange of trust apples.

It’s not about the apocalypse, it’s about one man’s battle within himself. So he leaves the team. Sticks up for himself and stakes a claim against exploits.

But the tragedy continues. As the days pass we realize that maybe Vitalasy was telling the truth and he isn’t going to be the villain. Everything contradicts this opinion. He’s flying, he’s one-tapping Planet in the prison, he’s using the potions. He’s going insane but remaining delusional.

And yet he continues to insist he’s not evil. He’s good.

Every storytelling tactic says this man should be the villain and yet he refuses to do so (creating some new interesting content as the streamers have to contend with other members who don’t act within the rules of Play and of Content).

Eventually Vitalasy burns all his exploited items. Zam, left in abject frustration, releases a chunk ban which only bans Mapicc. Giving up, he leaves. And Vitalasy bans himself, throwing himself off the prison over and over, sealing the story that he is not the villain. He was misunderstood.

To quote the Mer essay “anger transmute(s) into grief as if by magic” and FarmerZam is born. The story has affected our protagonist deeply and he has changed. He has no enemies. He refuses to look at how he’s hurt his friends because it’s simply too painful. Everything that could have gone wrong has.

Then Subz revives Vitalasy. Takes him around the server to their old bases while Vitalasy remains in depression about being misunderstood. He doesn’t want to be here.

But as Subz reveals the final base, before they go through the end portal, Vitalasy catches a glimpse of a new sign room, one filled with depressive thoughts. The same thoughts he has been having this whole stream. You can almost hear his posture fix as he realizes the state of mind Subz is in. He needs to convince Subz to stay.

But we all know what happens, the trajectory of lives are changed. Subz has Vitalasy kill him, banning him off for the rest of the season, promising to be back when Vitalasy needs him most, but for no one else.

Zam sees the death message and panics. He needs answers, he needs to bring Subz back. He’ll do anything to bring him back since it was Subz, it always has been Subz, who took him in when he had nothing. He realizes in a flash that he cares more about the friendship than about any values he held. But it’s too late now.

The tension, the sorrow stays. Zam decides to repair all his old friendships before the wormhole opens and this world ends. Vitalasy is forgiven. Spoke, Mapic, Ro. Planet, Bacon, Jaron. Everyone he betrayed. Everyone he let down.

But he forgot about Pangi.

But Pangi didn’t forget about him. He has always been there for Zam, but Zam time and again has abandoned him. He’s had enough. With the server ending, he’s going to get his amends, make him repent (thanks Chips. I mean. Credit to the artist)

He traps Zam in bedrock.

And Zam breaks.

Friendships, betrayal, enemies. Everything comes full circle. It seems you can’t escape your past just as you can’t escape being on the exploit team.

Once again we enter the story with a defined background, but this time it breaks Zam completely.

It’s not about exploits. It’s not about fairness. It’s about friendship. It’s about Subz. Subz was the only one who truly cared about him. He didn’t bring him onto the team maliciously, he really and truly cared about Zam and now he was Gone. Grief wells to the surface, Subz’s words about getting back at everyone who wronged them rings in his ears.

He’s going to talk to Spoke and end the world.

But his heart rebells even now. He’s betraying everyone again. But he’s sick of betraying. He won’t do it again, no matter how much chat tries to convince him Spoke is just using him and doesn’t care about him.

He’s going to end the world so that Subz will come back.

And then the pièce de résistance. Subz IS revived. And he’s disappointed in Zam for changing sides and joining the exploiters when he left them because if it.

The depths of that final conversation makes Zam’s story the most insane tragedy. It has been 5 months of near daily or every other day developments on this story. The twists and turns have produced laughter and tears, cheering, anger, frustration, satisfaction, depression.

And in the end? Subz still chose Vitalasy. Man how I wanted them to take him back in that moment. But what was done was done. These are the consequences of our actions.

And in the end the circle comes to another completion: he’s back on a team with Mapicc, the same person he betrayed over the duped exploits. They promise each other to end the server with everyone banned, no matter what anyone else has to say. In the end they jump into the portals together and the server is moved to season 5. (I too, in union with where Zam ended his video, think it’s a good place to end the plot here rather than with that final scene on the grass. This is the last character decision he made)

———

The Present Moment

Zam was talking on stream a few days ago about how Kaboodle wanted to know why Eclipse was so beloved still. Mer’s essay came up (which I read and absolutely loved), but the essay talks more about the dynamics of the streamers themselves and how their relation to Play made the story compelling to watch. Which it absolutely does, and I’ve written about how much this has reframed how I view Lifesteal.

But I think that only covers one aspect. The deeper reason why there’s still fanart being drawn of Eclipse is how Zam created (and/or was handed) one of the most tragic plot lines ever created by man, and how he allowed himself to be affected by the story, and how he brought it alive through his streams as he “struggles with, evaluates, and weighs what matters most to [him], and then makes hard decisions, moving the action forward.”

And this is why Zam is so beloved by the community in general. This is how he approaches every arc on Lifesteal. Most recently the Joker arc launched from the Abyss betrayal, which in turn, after his ban the first day of hardcore, turned into the possession arc as he realizes his love of Mapicc and Ro goes beyond his obsession with Minute and Jumper.

Each note of Lifesteal flows into the other as he lets us into the inner workings of his mind as he weighs one decision from another.

Because at the end of the day, I remember the tragedy, the longing for friendship and the betrayals, more than I will ever remember the circular reasoning of Vitalasy or the “okay”’s from pb&j. I only remember the strained voice of Zam as he wrote signs and went in circles trying to reconcile the fact that he couldn’t stay on a team and he couldn’t leave. How he was being dangled off the edge of a cliff being held up by Vitalasy. How Minute just doesn’t get it, he needs to be shown what Lifesteal is. His maniacal laughs as the Joker. Zam allows the story to affect him and he uses every ounce of it to create even more.

As Branzy said in the therapy session “It’s a human story. About what humans are.”

To their credit, Subz and Vitalasy also allowed themselves to be affected by the story. Without Vi banning himself because he was so misunderstood, and Subz bringing him back to ban him so that Eclipse could have some sort of ending, and without Subz doing so much lore with Zam in 1 on 1 conversations, we wouldn’t have the same story.

The same with Pangi finishing his lore by trapping Zam because Zam didn’t do the god-off with him. The same with Ash being Ash and flexing his god powers. The same with Spoke bringing Zam into the team and then getting caught up in managing the wormhole so he didn’t have time for 1 on 1’s with Zam to make him feel totally accepted as a valuable member. The same with Mapicc always being willing to let go of the past to save himself as well as never letting go of the past so he has something to do on the server. The same with Planet talking to Zam and Bacon and figuring out how to fight the exploits and realizing they needed to convince Zam to betray. The same with Branzy giving the craziest therapy session lifesteal has ever seen. Without each member allowing themselves to be affected by the story, the story doesn’t go anywhere.

#my hyperfixation kind of popped off today #lifesteal #princezam #eclipse federation #lifesteal smp

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fanstuffrantings · 3 months

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If there were 2 companions I would wish more proper content from it would be Wyll and Halsin.

Wyll is a core companion. He's important to the entire story, a hero of baldurs gate that people know from title alone. He should be known and recognized throughout the city. I want a quest for him that is about him and not just him pushing the main plot. He has an abysmal amount of content and deserves so much better. I entirely missed his act 1 quest because I had no idea how to complete it without killing people, and even then I had no clue those people were important because I wasn't with him the first time I ran through. In act 2 he has almost no content, sure we save Mizora but unless you manage to save florence we miss content for him. How are none of the enemies going to react to the literal son of the Duke being brainwormed and present when their plan heavily involves Duke Ravengard.

This is also coming after the recent patch made his act 3 quest of finding the dragon A SUBQUEST. Updated kisses for him are nice, but not only does he have 1 maybe 2 greetings, but he's also lacking so much content that most companions already have.

Why couldn't we get content of meeting people wyll knew as a teenager who he was maybe friends with? I'm guessing we couldn't visit his estate because they removed the uppercity (which also removed Karlach's fully happy ending). I'm holding out hope that one day we get an upper city release and more content for my boy that gives us people we can ask about his childhood.

Now for Halsin, I love him, he's my favorite, but I'm aware he comes second to Wyll as a character who needs more integration. He's a possible companion you get if you side with the Grove and im fine with that, but please can he get more content. Maybe some dialogue, maybe a not exactly romantic scene after his act 2 quest. Just something more. I've also heart that prerelease he was the one who actually killed Isobel and part of his need to fix the shadowcursed land was due to his guilt about that and knowledge that he's largely to blame for Ketheric. That's so incredibly interesting.

We already know Halsin can be angry from how he acts once we reach the city, I'd love to explore what led up to Isobel's death and the connection between him and Ketheric. Can you imagine an act 2 confrontation if they kept that in? Imagine if having him on the team made it impossible to convince Ketheric to stand down. Meeting isobel again and him knowing who she is but being unwilling to speak because he's already guilty enough. A lot of people's biggest issue with Halsin is they find him boring, removing such an interesting part of the lore was such a bad call. Let him be complex.

Give my boys some proper lore Larian, I'm begging you to give them content.

#molten rambles #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #halsin #wyll ravengard

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elizabethemerald · 1 year

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Flying Grason and Circus Gothica DPxDC

AO3

Prompt by @hypewinter ;

Richard Grayson crouched next to one of Gotham’s signature gargoyles, dressed in his Nightwing uniform. He stared down at what had, until just the last week, been an empty lot. Now the lot was filled with the lights and color of a traveling circus. Circus Gothica had come to visit Gotham and Dick’s family wanted to give him a pick-me-up. They had attended the circus, and while Dick had been filled with nostalgia at the displays, he couldn't help a feeling of dread. The tightrope walker… she didn’t seem… The sound of a pair of heavy boots landing on the roof behind him shook him out of his thoughts.

“What are we doing here, Dickard?” Jason, wearing his full Redhood get up, including his helmet, asked from behind him. Dick turned to face his frequently estranged brother for a moment before returning his attention to the circus below them, now long closed for the night.

“We are going to investigate this circus for anything suspicious.” Dick said, keeping his focus on the circus. He heard the rattling noise that he knew came from Jason sighing into his voice modulator.

“I meant, what am I doing here? If you needed to investigate this place why didn’t you call the Brat or the Replacement. Either of the girls would have worked as well.”

“I needed you here.” Dick said. Jason walked up next to him on the other side of the gargoyle. “I knew if I said I have a bad feeling about the circus without proof everyone else, except for maybe Cass would have dismissed me. ‘Oh it’s just the trauma speaking.’ But I know what I saw. The tightrope walker, she wasn’t willing. I think she was being forced to perform, her motions were too mechanical, as if she wasn’t all there.”

“And you needed me over Cass because if they are abusing their performers you’re going to beat them to within an inch of their lives and Cass would have stopped you.” Jason said. “Well if you want to save that girl, I’m here for-”

Jason whirled mid-sentence, drawing both guns from his sides and aiming them at something behind them. Dick turned with him, pulling his escrima as he turned but he couldn’t see whatever it was that Jason had reacted to. Jason stayed focused on a single point in space at the far end of the roof.

“Show yourself!” He barked.

After a few seconds, during which Jason didn’t waver in his focus, someone faded into view. The kid looked like he was eighteen, maybe nineteen, just a year younger than Jason. He had wavy black hair, blue eyes and was wearing a NASA shirt. Total adoption bait, Dick thought to himself. The guy was holding his hands up in surrender and had a desperate look in his eye.

“You two are heroes, right?” He asked, his hands still raised.

Jason and Dick glanced at each other.

“Yeah, we’re heroes. I’m Nightwing, this is Redhood. Why were you spying on us?”

“I heard you talking about the tightrope walker, you’re right she is unwilling. Please, I need you to help me, the ringleader, Freakshow, is using mind control on her.” The boy fell to his knees as he begged. “Please, Ancients, please help me. They’re killing her. Please, they're killing her.”

There was an undeniable desperation in his voice. Dick hesitated for a moment, there was a chance, however slim, that this person was merely a fantastic actor, especially now that the topic of mind-control had been brought up. He was trying to formulate some way to confirm what this person had said other than his own gut feeling when Jason stepped forward, holstering his guns as he did.

“He’s telling the truth.” Jason said.

Well Dick had asked him to come because they were team gut instinct, so might as well trust Jason on this one. He returned his escrima to his back. The boy practically collapsed in relief onto the rooftop, falling to his hands and knees for a moment before he started to rise. Jason helped pull him to his feet.

“Alright, talk. What do you know?” Jason said.

“Freakshow is the alias used by the Ring-leader. He uses a staff to control… people. The staff should have been destroyed.” He practically growled when he said that. Actually, Dick was certain he really did growl, he arched an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt. “If the staff is taken from him then he loses control over the… people.”

Dick could hear that the boy was hiding something. Considering the inhuman growl and the slight flash of his eyes, along with the invisibility, he was going to guess that by people, he meant metas. The last thing Gotham needed was mind control focused meta trafficking ring in the city.

“You said they were killing her? How? Why?”

He looked away from them, his eyes flicking side to side as he tried to order his thoughts. He was either coming up with a lie or trying to decide how much information to share with them.

“Ellie… she’s… sick. I have medicine for her. If I can get it to her in time I can save her, but if I get close while Freakshow still has the staff he’ll take control of me. I have some training and some resistance, but it might not be enough. The staff he’s using is ancient, he’s controlled me before but I was able to fight it off. I’m not certain I would be able to do so again, and it’s too much of a risk to try.”

It seemed the boy had decided on a half truth. The girl, Ellie, was certainly unwell, and her life was in more danger with every second that ticked passed, but what she was sick with and what the medicine for her were were unclear. Jason seemed to pick up on that as well.

“We’ll get her out of there. And all the rest of them. But when we’re done we’re going to have a long talk.” Jason growled.

The boy looked up at them, desperation once again shining naked on his face.

“If you save her I will tell you anything I am able to. I promise. Please just save her and bring her to me.”

“We will. We’re heroes. It’s what we do.” Dick said, trying to project all the confidence he could to assure the boy. Speaking of which… “By the way, what’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘kid’ in my head.”

“I’m Danny. And I’m not a kid.” Danny had grimaced when Dick had mentioned being a hero, perhaps he had a bad history with heroes? Now he kind of wished he had brought Cass along with him on this venture, she would have been much better at reading this kid. And he was definitely a kid, a teenaged father to an even younger, kidnapped daughter.

“Ok, Danny. Is there anything else you can tell us about this Freakshow?”

Danny pulled a backpack from…somewhere, then rustled around on the inside for a few seconds. He slowly stuck his arm further and further inside until his shoulder was ready to disappear before he pulled back. Certainly the bag wasn’t large enough by itself for him to do that. Dick shot a glance at Jason and he could practically feel the matching raised eyebrow even through Jason’s helmet. Danny finally leaned back and tossed two bracelets to the two heroes.

“I’ve had these built for years just in case, and I’ve been carrying them with me since Ellie was taken. These will keep you safe from Freakshow’s mind control.”

The bracelets weren’t exactly high fashion, but they didn’t look bad. If Dick was going to place a guess, he would say that Danny had modified and improved upon another’s design. That would be something they would have to ask once this was over. Jason grunted in discomfort when he snapped his on.

“If these work so well, how don’t wear one to better resist Freakshow?” Jason had a hint of strain in his voice that Dick couldn’t quite figure out.

Danny reached over as if to grab Dick’s wrist except a spark of toxic green electricity arced off the bracelet to shock Danny’s hand. He gave the bracelet a grim look. Then looked up at them apologetically.

“If only it were that simple. I haven’t been able to find any technological protection from Freakshow’s mind-control that doesn’t also harm me.” Then he turned to Jason, a look of concern on his face. “Speaking of which, it doesn’t hurt you too badly does it?”

Dick was confused by that statement. He hadn’t noticed any pain or discomfort coming from the bracelet he now wore on his wrist. Jason however, waggled his hand back and forth in a so-so gesture.

“It’s not the worst pain I’ve ever experienced.” He said shortly.

“No, I imagine it wouldn’t be.” Danny said as if sharing an inside joke with Jason and considering his snort he apparently got it. Dick hated not being on a joke, but he figured this one he was probably happy not to have personal experience with. Danny’s face settled into a more determined look. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything else to help you, please, just get Ellie out and safe as quickly as possible. Please, I can’t lose her too.”

They nodded and turned together and jumped from the roof. Dick wanted to think more about Danny and his various strangeness, but he needed to focus on the task at hand. They had a little girl to save.

In the end, stopping Freakshow wasn’t easy, but it also wasn’t nearly as difficult as some of their usual rogues. On the one hand, the performers that Freakshow controlled had powers, something Danny completely failed to mention. They could fly, turn invisible, phase into the ground, even fire off some kind of green energy bolts that reminded Dick far too much of Starfire’s starbolts. On the other hand, none of these powers seemed to be very effective against the two heroes.

The starbolts didn’t do anything more than tickle Dick, and while they seemed to hurt Jason more, the two of them were well used to avoiding incoming fire from their enemies. They were usually dodging bullets, which moved faster, hurt more and were more lethal than the starbolts, so the performers were mostly useless at range.

Up close whatever shield Danny had given them kept the performers from touching them, each of them falling back with arcs of electricity jumping between their fingers. It helped that under Freakshow’s control the performers just kept trying to jump or fly into them with a full bodied tackle. Any goon in the goonion knew better than to try to just tackle one of the bat clan. Dick guessed it had something to do with the powers the performers demonstrated, but he set it aside as something to ask Danny about once they were out of there.

Just when the two Bats were within sight of Freakshow the lights of the big top came on, including a spotlight focused on the high wire. Freakshow stepped back and gestured with the staff in his hands towards where the lone acrobat, the little girl, Danny’s Ellie, stood balanced on the wire.

“Now, now, little bats! If you take even one step closer a little ghost child will fall to her second death. I’d hate for her to splatter all over the ground of the Big Top!” Freakshow said, with a grin as demented as one of the Joker’s.

Ellie moved slowly across the tightrope. Dick could immediately pick up on that same mechanical, emotionless movement that had first drawn his attention. He could see that she was being controlled now that he had the confirmation. He could also see just how tired she was, she sagged against the control of her body, any part of her that wasn’t actively being controlled by Freakshow drooped as if she wanted to pass out from exhaustion. Dick just hoped that whatever medicine Danny had for his daughter worked.

“I’ve got another idea. Nightwing?” Jason growled the words, his modulator making him sound even more inhuman. Dick glanced at his brother and gave him the subtlest of nods. They moved immediately, perfectly in sync. Jason pulled his guns and fired off a few rounds, rubber bullets and all. Dick fired his grapple and rose as the control staff was shot out of Freakshow’s hand.

Ellie came back to herself and wobbled for a second before she slipped off the wire, gravity immediately taking hold of her. For a second, Dick flashed back to another family falling from the peak of the big top. He remembered the feeling of horror that filled him as his parents fell to their death. He couldn’t allow another family to go through that. Not this time. Ellie falls and Dick was there to meet her.

The poor girl shivered and shook in his arms as he carefully lowered the two of them to the ground. Large green tears fell from her eyes and her breath rattled in and out of her chest. She grabbed onto his uniform with desperate fingers and seemed to pass out immediately in his arms. Dick dearly wanted to beat Freakshow into submission for what he had done to her, but she very clearly needed her medicine more. Jason settled for breaking Freakshow’s arm before knocking him out and cuffing him. Surprisingly the rest of Freakshow’s victims had vanished into thin air once the staff left his hands.

Dick carried Ellie back to the rooftop where they had left Danny. The whole time she kept her eyes closed and shook in his arms. Jason carried the staff Freakshow had used, though he held it like it was something foul and offended him personally. Danny had been watching them come and as soon as they were on the roof as well had his arms out for his daughter. Dick handed her off willingly, and Danny almost immediately collapsed to his knees in relief.

“Daddy?” Elllie croaked the word, barely able to open her eyes.

“I’m here, Ellie. I’m here. I’ve got the ecto-dejecto.”

“I tried to fight him.” Her voice was soft and hoarse and hurt Dick just to hear.

“You did amazing, sweety. You were absolutely amazing.”

Danny pulled a syringe out from what looked like his own arm. A syringe filled a green gel that glowed softly. Jason stared at the needle as Danny readied it for Ellie. She tried to shove his hand away, but he moved around her.

“I know you hate it, I know. It’s awful. But you have to take it. Please Ellie, I’ve got you, you’re safe.”

Dick flinched back in horror as Ellie’s hand melted into a similar green goo. The glowing goo fell from her body to the rooftop but she didn’t seem to react, only mewling softly at Danny as he pushed the needle into her chest, close to where her heart would be. Danny pushed down on the plunger and Ellie threw her head back and screamed. Dick had to cover his ears while even Jason with his helmet stumbled back before the force of her scream.

Their horror only increased when her entire body fell apart, glowing chunks splashing onto the roof leaving a pale green pearl in Danny’s hands. The puddles of green flowed up into the pearl until there wasn’t a trace of Ellie left other than the pearl. Danny rocked back and forth as he held the pearl, and whispered quietly to it.

“Please, Ellie. Please. Come back. I was fast enough, please Ellie, just this once, please let me have been fast enough. Please, Ancients, don’t let me lose anyone else. Please, Ellie. Please.”

Danny’s voice was broken with grief and desperation as he begged the little sphere. Dick stepped forward to comfort the grieving father, his own regret heavy in his heart, but Jason’s hand on his shoulder stopped him. The two of them could only watch as Danny begged and begged, still rocking. Only the slow tightening of Jason’s hand on Dick’s shoulder showed his grief and fear rising as well. The three men stared at the little orb in Danny’s hand, two of them hardly daring to breathe as any last remnant of hope faded.

Then, just when Dick was certain he had been too late, a flash of light came from the little sphere. He blinked the light from his eyes and when he could see again he saw Danny clutching a much more lively Ellie to his chest, sobbing in naked relief.

“Oh Daddy! I knew you would come and that stupid jerk would pay.” Ellie cheered, hugging him back just as strong.

“That’s right baby, I’m always going to come for you. I’ll always protect you.” He stood, lifting his daughter easily and turned to show her the two bats. “And these two heroes were the ones who stopped Freakshow and brought you back to me.”

Ellie smiled at them and they couldn’t help but notice that her smile was just a little too wide, and showed just a few too many teeth. Then she seemed to recognize them and they saw actual literal stars in her eyes.

“Oh my gosh! You’re Redhood! You’re Aunt Jazz’s favorite hero!” Jason preened for a moment before Ellie continued. “She says there’s something deeply wrong with your entire family and she wants to study you like a bug. She says all of you need ‘like decades of therapy.’”

Jason and Dick didn’t know whether to laugh or be offended by the kid’s words. And they had both rescued children often enough to know that they were often brilliant mimics and considering the intonation she had used, had probably heard that phrase way too often.

“Now Ellie, be nice. They did rescue after all. Give them a proper thank…” Danny’s voice petered out as he saw the staff that Jason still held in his hands. Ellie happily thanked the two heroes as he glared at the staff, analyzing and examining it, his face twisting with more and more rage.

The staff itself seemed to have been broken before and then sloppily repaired with glowing green and silver technology. It was at this modified portion of the staff that Danny focused his ire. Ellie seemed to notice her father’s fury as her babbling words to the heroes ceased and she turned in his arms to lightly pat her hands on his face. He blinked and looked at her before letting his face relax.

“Daddy, are you ok?”

“Yeah, Daddy’s ok sweetie. This is just something bigger I’m going to have to deal with.”

“Ok.” She hesitated for a moment. “Just promise to be safe, I won’t be able to protect you until I’m bigger.”

“I promise, munchkin.”

Jason quietly cleared his throat. They both hated to disrupt the tender moment, but if this was a larger threat they needed the facts as soon as possible.

“I know, I know. I promised you details.” Danny said as he adjusted how he was carrying Ellie. “This isn’t exactly a topic for the rooftops. Do you have someplace private we can talk? Preferably somewhere I can put the kiddo down for bed after the hard week she’s had?”

Dick and Jason glanced at each other. There were a variety of safe houses and interrogation rooms the Family had available in the area, or the Batcave, but none were exactly the best for putting a potential ally at ease where they could also have a child sleep over. Hell, Dick’s apartment was barely safe for him to sleep, the pile of dishes in his sink practically counted as a biohazard. Well… there was one place… but that meant revealing…

“B’s out of town for the week for that JL thing isn’t he?” Jason asked, clearly having read Dick’s mind. “He’s not here to disapprove.”

“Seems like the perfect place for a conversation.” Dick agreed and turned back to see Danny’s slightly worried glance between the two of them. “How about it Danny? Would you like to ride with the kiddo on one of our motorcycles?”

“Oh, don’t be silly!” Ellie said with a smile. “Aunt Jazz is the one who likes motorcycles. Daddy and I will fly!”

Danny did in fact fly, invisibly and intangibly, with Ellie still in his arms. He followed along in the air over the two bikes as they weaved dangerously in and out of traffic. The two were obviously brothers in so many ways, but their playful daring of each other to push a little faster, to get a little closer to the cars made it even more obvious. Danny couldn’t help the small smile that crept up his face, but speaking of siblings he had to make a call of his own. Jazz answered on the first ring.

“Danny? Did you find her?” Jazz asked, she had been driving herself crazy for the past week trying to find where Ellie had been taken to.

“Yeah, I’ve got her safe and sound-”

“Hi Aunt Jazz!” Ellie interrupted to yell into the earpiece Danny was using. He could practically feel Jazz’s wince at the volume, but they were both used to Ellie’s exuberance.

“Hi Ellie! I’m so glad to hear you’re safe!” Jazz shouted back, making Danny wince this time, but Ellie nodded even though she wasn’t wearing the earpiece and settled back against Danny’s chest. “Talk to me Danny. What happened?”

“Freakshow was controlling her. And a bunch of other ghosts, but I was able to scoop up the rest while the heroes had their backs turned. I’ll be dropping them off in the zone as soon as I can.”

“Heroes? What heroes?”

“I had a little help from Gotham’s beloved Knights. Or at least two of them. They were the ones to take out Freakshow since I couldn’t risk getting closer to him while he held his staff.”

“I thought you broke that staff the last time you faced him.”

“I did. It was fixed.” Danny hesitated for a second before dropping the bomb on her. “It was fixed with Fentontech.”

He could hear the gasp from Jazz at the same time Ellie shivered in fear. Jazz took a steadying breath and Danny could practically see her going through her breathing exercises to control her own panic.

“I guess that problem will need to be dealt with sooner rather than later.”

“Mm. I’m hoping that with the help of the local heroes I won’t have to take care of everything myself, but…”

“Some things are personal.” Jazz finished for him. “I understand Danny.” She took another breath before changing topics, now sounding calm and professional. “Could you stay on the line? Tucker is tracking your location, and I would like to confirm for myself that the two of you are ok.”

“Of course Jazz. Do you want to talk to Ellie?” Danny was already removing the piece from his ear before Jazz could even confirm. Of course Jazz wanted to talk to Ellie. Jazz loved her niece more than oxygen. He slipped the piece into Ellie’s ear so they could talk.

“Hi Aunt Jazz! This is Ellie, I’ve missed you so much!” Ellie started talking excitedly greeting Jazz again as if Danny would just hand his earpiece to anyone.

Danny mentally checked out from their conversation as he stayed flying over the two Bats. His parents had already shared their technology with the GIW making it more dangerous to be a ghost or liminal. Even Jazz had been attacked once by GIW agents, though she had left all the agents with concussions and multiple broken bones once she was done with them.

If they were sharing their technology with other criminals like Freakshow, it was going to be even more dangerous. How long would it take until some of the big rogues get their hands on anti ghost tech? What could someone like the Joker or Luthor do if even the dead aren’t safe from their machinations?

Jason and Dick lead the two ghosts to a large manor on the outskirts of Gotham. Danny eventually recognizes it as Wayne manor. He would have to tell Sam she won their bet on Batman’s secret identity, not that they would ever tell anyone. He and Ellie were welcomed into the house by Alfred, the manor’s butler. The two of them settled in the dining room where Ellie was plied with dinner and dessert after her stressful time with Freakshow. Danny makes a mental note for his daughter to spend time with Aunt Jazz so she can talk things through free of judgment.

The two bat boys joined them shortly out of costume and the rest of the family trickled in throughout the day as their patrols ended. Damian, who was probably the stabby Robin, glared at them as if they were a threat to his family. Danny couldn’t help the thought that he puffed up like an angry cat. Cassandra and Stephanie, Black Bat and Spoiler respectively, worked together to pull Ellie from Danny’s lap to keep her entertained away from the serious discussion that was happening at the table. Timothy, or Red Robin (Yumm!) was on the receiving end of several stern looks from Alfred for having a computer at the dining table but he was taking rapid notes on everything Danny said.

Danny told them as much as he felt comfortable with. About ghosts, and over shadowing, and Infinite Realms. He tried to keep the conversation light and focused just on the simple details until Alfred escorted in Jazz at close to three in the morning.

“Aunt Jazz!” Ellie ran to her and jumped into her arms, Jazz swinging her up into the air easily. As if Ellie had been waiting to be reunited with her family she almost immediately fell asleep in Jazz’s arms. Alfred escorted the two to the guest room he had prepared hours ago.

Once Jazz had returned to the dining room it was time for the serious conversation. The GIW. The Anti-Ecto Act. The very real threat of extermination that every ectoplasm contaminated person now faced, which included more than half the bats currently at the table as well. Promises are made to get the League looking at the laws. Eventually the conversation turns to talking about Danny and Ellie.

“Technically she’s my clone.” Danny confessed. “My fruitloop god-father wanted to make me his perfect son, so he stole my DNA and cloned me. She was unstable for a long time and had to keep coming back for injections. We finally figured out what was going on two years ago.”

Danny rubbed a hand up and down his face as he gathered himself. He always hated that it had taken him so long to understand what she needed.

“Because he’s terrible at biology, he forced her human half to grow at an accelerated rate to match my age, but he couldn’t do the same with her ghost half. The two sides were at war, and it turns out she really was a baby ghost all along, but didn’t have an adult ghost around to be able to depend on. She changed her form to match her actual age, and I’ve been her ghost parent, so I’ve helped steady her core. Until Freakshow came along and stole her away while she still needed me.”

He glared at the table top as the temperature around him plummeted. Freakshow could have killed his little girl. It would have been all too easy and if Dick and Jason hadn’t helped take away his staff, Danny might have been too late. If Freakshow’s actions had led to Ellie’s death there would have been no safe haven for him in this life or the next. Jazz grabbing his hand brought him back before he sent the dining room into the next ice age.

The arrival of the daylight hero, Signal, aka Duke, reminded the lot they should have been asleep hours ago. Jazz and Danny retired to the same guest room Ellie was currently snoring away in. They settled down on either side of the bed from her, cuddling Danny’s daughter in the middle.

“What are we going to do about the Fentons?” Jazz whispered from across Ellie’s still form.

“If they’re helping villains, they’ve crossed a line. I’ll have to deal with them myself.” Danny hesitated for a bit. “I’ll have to wait until Ellie’s stable again, but then would you mind if she stayed with you? You’re family too, even if you don’t have a ghost form, so she should be stable with you too.”

“Of course I will, Danny. You don’t even have to ask.” Jazz said, she hesitated as well. “Are you going to bring them in to serve jail time?”

They had been his parents once. His mom and dad. Jazz still caught herself sometimes referring to them as their parents. But they had crossed too many lines. With Jazz’s childhood, after Danny’s accident, now with Ellie’s health. He took a shaky breath and shook his head.

“Their crimes are against the dead. And the dead are going to come for their due.”

Jazz nodded, small tears shining in her eyes, before she closed them and let the tears fall. The trio fell asleep, a small, strange family, reunited again after so long. Tomorrow would be a new challenge, but eventually they would know peace.

#dp x dc #danny fenton #jazz fenton #danielle fenton #she goes by ellie just like me #dick grayson #jason todd

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adrift-in-thyme · 4 months

Text

Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience (Link/Midna)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury, torture, and mild body horror

——————————-

Midna is no stranger to the sound of screams.

Her people had cried out when Zant had taken the throne and transformed her beautiful kingdom into something dark and twisted. Their cries of agony and anguish had echoed in her ears as she fled, a hideous imp, humiliated and furious. And they have remained with her all this time, spurring her onward toward salvation and victory.

But the noise that fills the air now is terrible in its own right. It pierces her skull and sets her heart racing erratically in her chest. And it feels as though it has been going on for eternity.

In reality, however, it has probably only been a few minutes. It doesn’t matter though. Midna has never derived joy from seeing Link suffer. This time is no different.

“Midna,” Zant’s leering voice reaches her ears once more, cascading smoothly over the waning sound of the hero’s hoarse screams. “Be an obedient dear and lend me your power. Do so and your precious, little human need not suffer further.”

Midna’s gaze travels down to where Link kneels mere feet away from her. His body is rigid, held in place by invisible bindings. His cap has fallen a short distance from him; his tunic and pants are splotched with mud, sweat, and blood. Tears stream down his ashen cheeks and well in his eyes, turning their gray the color of a stormy sky. But there is fire in them.

“Don’t,” he gasps, voice painfully ragged. “Please, Midna.”

Zant flicks a hand and the hero tenses further, an agonized whine breaking free.

“Quiet, dog,” he growls. “Count yourself lucky that I have allowed you the dignity of this form rather than letting the twilight have its way with you.”

“Lucky?” Midna shrieks, unable and unwilling to restrain herself. The nerve of this man! Calling himself her king, banishing her from her kingdom, demanding her aid…and now, hurting the hero. Her hero. “Being a human in a twilight realm is excruciating and you know that full well!”

“Come now, Midna,” Zant purrs, rounding her once more. His attempts at sweetness are as sour as his breath. “Calm yourself. This…human is pathetic in comparison to us. He has enjoyed the fruits of his people’s cruelty for far too long. It is time he felt some small portion of what we have endured.”

Midna is seething now. If only she were in her true form. If only she had that shadow crystal. She would rip this monster’s limbs off and cast him into the light-filled world he so detests.

“What we’ve endured?” She spits. “What about the things my people have suffered by your hand? You call yourself their king while you turn them into disgusting beasts!”

She kicks out, struggling against her bonds. But they hold fast, as suffocating and restrictive as this world.

“I have made the kingdom what it long should have been,” Zant replies, tone darkening. “You would have had it fall into obscurity and disrepair. You would have had our people forget all that they have endured because of the light dwellers.

“But you evade the question, my fallen princess. Will you help me or not?”

Link’s eyes find hers. He is breathing hard, shuddering beneath the weight of his own form. And yet, he smiles. It is only the slightest upturn of the lips, like a thread of twilight stretching bravely into the world of light. But Midna sees it all the same.

“Never.”

The word when she speaks it, shatters the momentary silence. She doesn’t have to see him to know Zant’s expression has turned murderous.

(Though, if she’s being honest, does it ever not look murderous? The man is vile.)

Her eyes, however, are only for Link. He is looking at her with pride in his gaze, pride and…maybe the beginnings of something else? She can’t be certain.

Whatever it is, she doesn’t deserve it.

“No?” Zant laughs and it seems to echo in the cavernous space. “Well then. You truly have fallen far Midna, to conspire with light dwellers in such a way. It nauseates me!”

Power surges through the air, a projectile of pure darkness slicing its way toward the hero. The energy it emanates is so dark, so sinister the air reverberates with it.

Midna gasps as she realizes what is about to happen. With an enraged screech, she struggles even harder than before. But she is helpless to stop it.

Darkness, fierce and sharp, collides with Link’s chest. It keeps going, shoving aside flesh and muscle and bone to burrow deep into his heart. His eyes go wide, blood bubbling from his lips as he chokes on a cry.

“This light dweller pretends to care for you and your world,” Zant sneers. “Perhaps, then, he will enjoy internalizing the shadows you inhabit.”

A skull-shattering scream pierces the air. Link thrashes, fighting desperately to get loose. Streaks of black crawl across his skin now, craters of molten obsidian amongst bloodless white.

“I wonder how much he can take before he breaks,” Zant muses.

He twists sleeve-hidden fingers and abruptly, Link crumples. Shadows dance in the air around him as he transforms. And then a beast lays twitching on the ground before her.

“No, stop!” The shout breaks free before she can restrain it.

But Zant doesn’t seem to even hear her. He is too enraptured by his own sadistic glee at Link’s agony.

The shadows around him grow thicker now, more potent. The obsidian marks spread like jagged lines of ink and blood oozes in their wake. They mar the hero’s lush gray coat, trickle into his once-bright eyes.

Midna inhales a ragged breath. If she doesn’t stop this, if she doesn’t act Link will die. That cannot happen.

She needs him to help her save her kingdom and her people. She needs him to save that little country town of his, and the kids who gaze at him like he is the sun itself, and the family he adores despite how they so violently despised his wolf form. She needs him to save the land Zelda has sacrificed so much for, the land Link looks upon with wonder.

She needs…she needs him.

So, she takes a deep breath and focuses. There is a crack, she realizes with a spark of hope, in the magic Zant is using to restrain her. She isn’t certain how she didn’t see it before. Perhaps, it wasn’t even there before.

It doesn’t matter. All that’s important is the way she can exploit it.

Midna forces her hands inside it, pulls it wider and wider until it is a gaping hole. Then, she shoves herself through, shattering her bonds as she does so. And when she opens her eyes once more, she is free.

She hits the ground with a dull thud and scrambles up. Zant whirls to face her, a screech of indignation ringing out as he unsheathes his swords. But she is too fast for him.

Fiery locks fly free, scooping the still-shuddering hero into their silken folds. Magic surges through her panicked and quick. And with a burst of sharp shadows, they are gone.

She lands them in Hyrule Field, for lack of a better place. It is far from most villages at least, with their mindless terror and ready torches. Gently, she lowers Link into the blades of green grass.

She can only hope that the teleportation wasn’t too much for him. But what other choice had she had?

“Link.”

Midna reaches out, ghostly fingers brushing his cheek. The word hitches in her throat, traitorous emotion struggling to break free. Fiercely, she shoves it back down.

“Come on, you idiot! Wake up!”

As if in response, his breath stutters. Gray-blue eyes flutter open, flitting about in a panic before they land on her. He shifts, brushing his nose against her immaterial form. A low whine echoes in his throat.

Midna lets out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. He didn’t touch me. Worry about yourself like you should.”

Link huffs a breath, seeming indignant. But his efforts are weak. His usual snark is gone with his strength, sapped by the madman who had sought to use him.

Shaking her head, Midna turns to gaze at the castle that bravely rises past the horizon.

“You just hold on, Link,” she murmurs. “I’ll get you the help you need.”

And after that? She’ll find the might necessary to hurl Zant into the sun.

#febuwhump2024 #febuwhump day 4 #torture tw #blood tw #injury tw #mild body horror #angst #whump #trin writes #pre-lu #loz #twilight princess #midlink #I love the lakebed temple cutscene SO MUCH #and on my recent replay thought #‘hey what if link got tortured like midna was?’#had a bunch of dark magic poured into him instead of light #and lo and behold this came out

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dantent · 6 months

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𝑴𝒆𝒐𝒘𝒑𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍 [𝑶𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒕] 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟐

A/N: Alright since you guys like the first part so much here's a part 2 but this is fr the last one 😭

Part 1

Raphael was clean but at what cost. His darling fur was drenched in water, all because of Tav. Speaking of which, they were currently lying on a bed furthest away from Raphael. The hero had to patch themselves up from all the scratches he had given them. Well deserved. If they had listened to him, it wouldn’t have come to this. The only downside was that Tav didn’t pay attention to him, as a punishment. Raphael wanted to laugh at the idea that his little mouse wanted to punish him for rightfully defending himself. Were they turned into a cat as well, they would understand his situation.

He jumped off the bed he found most comfortable, coincidentally just the bed Tav had used before. With his silent little paws, he hurried to the only table in the room. On the desk he saw a lone potion standing just at the edge. Raphael looked over at Tav, a plan forming in his head. If Tav was unwilling to pay attention to him because “he was a rude cat”, then he had no other choice than to make them pay attention. The Devil lazily jumped on the table, walking to the edge. Apparently his maneuver made enough noise to wake Tav up. They slowly raised their head in his direction.

“Meowphael, no!” Tav jumped out of the bed. When they came closer, Raphael raised a paw and placed it just behind the potion, making continuous eye contact with the hero. Tav stopped in their track, slowly raising their hand. “No! No, bad Meowphael!”

Raphael tilted his head to the right, giving them an innocent look. Tav took it as a sign to step closer. He didn’t do anything, not yet at least. They released a breath before taking another step. Raphael hissed at them, making Tav stop once more. In a desperate attempt, they shook their head, urging him not to do it. Oh how he laughed at them. Such an easy way to get his little mouse’s attention. But why would he stop there? He slowly pushed the bottle closer to its demise. Tav didn’t think twice and lunged at him, but it was too late as he already shoved it off.

“No!'' They jumped to the floor to catch it but it shattered on the ground. Raphael meowed before jumping off and joining them on the floor. He found this situation hilarious, especially as Tav’s unamused face stared at him. “At this point I wouldn’t even be surprised if you were actually Raphael in disguise…”

What a wonderful thought. If only they weren’t an absolute idiot. A hiss came from Raphael before he strolled over to their backpack. He occasionally looked back waiting for the hero to follow him. They were so close to the truth if only they finally used their brain instead of keeping it as a giant abyss. Raphael waited, he even sat on the floor, as much as he absolutely despised doing so. Yet the hero just lied there, staring back at him. Raphael would’ve rolled his eyes if he could.

“What?” Tav asked, clearly not amused by his previous stunt. Raphael meowed and stood up, continuing his way to the bag. Once he got to it, he looked back at his little mouse. In his mind, Raphael tried to urge them forward. Now he wished he didn’t bet his entire future on an utter fool. “No, I won’t give you any more potions! Get away from my bag!”

Raphael growled before attacking the backpack. He could hear Tav’s hurried steps but he didn’t care. As much as he hated to admit it, Raphael genuinely missed being able to talk to someone. In his House of Hope, people were obliged to listen to his ramblings but now he couldn’t even make the hero of Baldur’s Gate understand him. He grew more frustrated by the minutes, wishing to strip himself from this curse. Raphael turned to them expectedly. They finally arrived, crossing their arms before glancing at the bag.

“Stop destroying my bag!” they scolded him. Did he have to do everything himself? Raphael meowed and slowly turned to the bag. “You want food? A potion? What?”

He hissed in anger before burying himself in the new opening he had made with his claws. The Devil grabbed the potion of animal speaking again and tried pulling it out. Before he could fully get it out of the bag however, Tav grabbed it from him to inspect the bottle. Raphael growled in return, raging at how he was treated.

“Potion of animal speaking?” they gasped. “You wanted to talk to me this whole time?”

Finally, he thought. At least his little mouse understood him in the end. If they helped him out, maybe he was willing to forget what he had gone through to get the result he wanted. Maybe. But more likely than not, Tav was going to face the consequences of making fun of him – Raphael. As he thought about the various ways Tav would pay for this mockery, they drank the potion.

“Took you long enough.” Raphael meowed. Tav’s eyes widening was a clear indication that they finally heard what he had to say. “Were you going to wait a moment longer I-”

He was interrupted by laughter. The hero laughed at him. Raphael growled ever so angrily, his animalistic instincts taking over, thus attacking Tav’s leg. But his little mouse had learned from their previous mistake and grabbed him before he could do any significant damage. They raised him in the air, smiling at him.

“I’m sorry I just…” Tav couldn’t finish their sentence because they were wheezing, straight into his face. He tried scratching them, but they made sure to keep him far away. “You’re a cat!”

“Astonishing observation.” he growled. “Now put me down or else!”

“Or else?” they could barely breathe by now. “What are you going to do? Meow my ear off?”

Raphael screamed at them in anger. How dare they. He was Raphael! This temporary setback was a pain in his ass, sure, but this travesty would be taken no more! He tried with all his might to at least scratch their skin, but their hands kept him firmly in the air.

“Gods, stop it!” they yelled at him in between a few laughs. “Seriously, this won’t help you…”

“Let me go this instant you impudent moron!” he tried kicking them with his legs.

Tav chuckled at the attempt. “First, you have to promise me not to destroy anything else. Bad kitties don’t get to enjoy their freedom.”

“Call me that again, worm and I’ll show you just how hot the flames of Avernus can burn!” He was furious at this point. Never had he been ridiculed to this extent in his life. Tav was going to face serious punishment once he transformed back. Raphael imagined how he would-

“Alright, alright, no need to get angry.” they sighed. “But, if you want my help, we have to come to an agreement…”

“The agreement will be that you get to keep your sorry little life as long as I am in this cursed form. But believe me, pet, your insults are going to have dire consequences.” Raphael grumbled.

“Promise me that you won't destroy my things.” Tav shook their head, clearly not taking his warnings seriously. Utter fool.

“You think you’re in any place to-”

“Who is held up in the air right now?” they raised an eyebrow.

“Fine. Laugh while you can little mouse, the cat’s claws are soon closing in around you.”

“Are you seriously doing this right now?” Tav placed him down and he stretched his aching limbs. Once he felt comfortable, he hissed at the hero. “Unbelievable. Will you at least tell me what happened to you?”

Raphael tilted his head for a moment, considering their request. “No.”

#bg3 #bg3 raphael #baldur's gate 3 #raphael bg3 #raphael the cambion #bg3 tav #bg3 one shot

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gilded-garnet · 11 months

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He Doesn't Even Know You

Sebastian Sallow x F!MC

WC: ~ 2K / Warnings: None

Summary: MC had a boyfriend, and Sebastian was miserable. What made it worse was the fact that he had unwittingly made it happen in the first place.

It had started when his fellow Slytherin, a seventh year boy by the name of Avery, had benignly asked him if he knew what MC's favourite flower was. Avery had claimed he simply wanted to give a gift to the 'Hero of Hogwarts' as a thank you for saving the school during their previous year.

In hindsight, Sebastian couldn't quite believe how naive he'd been, not thinking to question this rather flimsy motive. He had answered truthfully, not thinking of the possible consequences.

Unfortunately, his advice had rapidly led to the development of an actual relationship between the two. A relationship in which Sebastian now found himself an unwilling participant.

Avery had started coming to him for everything, wanting to extract any piece of information he could in order to dazzle MC. With each passing request, Sebastian became increasingly tempted to tell the guy to get lost and learn how to impress a girl on his own. However, just one glance at MC's delighted face whenever she received a box of her favourite chocolates or an item of jewellery with her favourite gemstone, meant that Sebastian couldn't find it in himself to stop helping the useless dolt.

Just half a year more and he'll be gone, he told himself. He could cope for that long, couldn't he, for her sake? It turned out he vastly overestimated his own level of tolerance.

"Oh, it was amazing, Sebastian!" She gushed to him between classes. "Just the other day, he took me to this spot overlooking the hills and river. It was simply divine."

She sighed dreamily in a way that made Sebastian's insides curl. He already knew it was amazing. After all, he was the one who had found the spot in the first place and suggested it to the fool. As if that insufferable moon mind could think up anything like that on his own.

He didn't trust himself to speak with an acceptable level of enthusiasm, so simply grit his teeth and nodded. She picked up on his foul mood immediately, reaching out to grab his arm and stop him in his tracks, a small frown on her face.

"Look, Sebastian, I know you don't particularly like him, but would it kill you to at least pretend to be happy for me?" She asked.

Oh, if only she knew what he was doing to make sure she was happy, he thought bitterly.

"I'm not sure it matters what I think of him; I'm not the one dating him," he replied, trying to keep his voice level and tone dismissive.

Her frown deepened. "You're my best friend. Of course your opinion matters to me," she insisted.

The rational part of his mind knew he should leave the conversation there, but Sebastian had always had a flair for confrontation.

"Fine. I'll tell you what I think," he stated, crossing his arms in frustration. "I dont think he's right for you."

"Why?" She asked, still calm for now.

"Because he doesn't know a damn thing about you, MC!" He snapped, unable to hold it in any longer.

Her eyebrows rose in confusion, "That's ridiculous, he knows lots about me."

Sebastian couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Like your favourite chocolates, lessons, and flower? You think he just guessed all that information? Come on MC, you're smarter than that," he scoffed.

"He just listens to me," she insisted, cheeks turning pink in indignation.

"He doesn't," he replied, flatly.

"And how would you know?" She demanded, incensed.

"Because he's been coming to me since the start for advice on how to woo you. Hell, he only took you to that spot the other day because I suggested it to him!" Sebastian fumed.

Despite his anger, he found immense relief in the admittance, like the ball and chain that had been dragging at his heels for months had finally fallen away, leaving him feeling lighter. That is, until he saw MC's bottom lip quivering, which quickly brought him crashing back down to earth.

"You can be really cruel sometimes, Sebastian," she said, her voice shaking with emotion.

He blinked dumbly, taken by surprise. "What?"

"Just because you're jealous, doesn't mean you can make up stuff like that," she snapped, her eyes brimming with tears. She turned on her heel and sped away, books clutched tightly to her chest.

He was gobsmacked. First, at her thinking he was lying about the whole thing, and second, that she thought he was lying because he was jealous.

He suddenly had the overriding urge to set something on fire, so decided to skip Ancient Runes altogether in favour of venting his rage at a training dummy in the Undercroft, all the while picturing it wearing Avery's face.

----

That evening, Avery cornered him in the Slytherin common room as he made his way to bed. He'd ended up 'practicing' in the Undercroft for hours, and now felt completely drained of energy.

"Sebastian, just the man I wanted to see. MC's in a right foul mood; you wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you? Anything I can do to help calm her down?" Avery asked, concerned.

"She's your girlfriend - figure it out," Sebastian snarled, thinking that Avery was very lucky he could barely raise his wand arm. He barged him roughly aside with his shoulder so he could walk up the stairs to his dorm, ignoring Avery's spluttered protest.

Ominis was already there, sitting on his bed with his legs crossed at the ankle, a book on his lap. "Our mutual friend isn't too happy with you," he stated.

Sebastian only grunted in response, kicking off his boots and falling face-first into the pillow on his own bed, wrapping his arms around it.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ominis probed, his voice teasing.

"No."

"Ok."

The silence lasted all of one minute before Sebastian huffed loudly, turning onto his side to face his friend.

"I told MC the truth about Avery. She accused me of making up the fact that I am the sole reason that she and him are together. Then, she said that I was jealous and that's the reason I made it up!" Sebastian disclosed, exasperated.

"And are you?" Ominis asked.

"Am I what?"

"Jealous."

Sebastian scoffed. "I'm not jealous, Ominis. It's more like I'm sick to death of him taking all the credit for my ideas." Sebastian groused, frowning.

"Alright," Ominis said a little too lightly.

"What does that mean?" Sebastian demanded.

"I just said 'alright'," Ominis remarked, raising an eyebrow.

"Yeah, but it was the way you said it."

Ominis huffed in frustration. "Sebastian, I am not going to tell you how you do or do not feel. What I will tell you is that I can understand why she might be upset with you when you basically told her that her entire relationship is a lie."

Sebastian groaned. "I didn't mean for it to go on for this long. I've been meaning to tell Avery to piss off for ages, but she just looked so happy and I couldn't..." he trailed off miserably.

"Give her time, she'll come around eventually. She always seems to when it comes to you," Ominis assured.

"She isn't the only one," Sebastian teased, chuckling when Ominis shot him an irritated look. Goading his oldest friend was one of Sebastian's favourite pastimes.

"Oh please. If anything, you're the one who always ends up crawling back to me. Now, shut up and go to bed, I've had enough of your moping for one day."

---

It had been a whole month and she still hadn't spoken to him. More tragically, she and that useless waste of space were still together, even without his input. The thought left him feeling rather cold, and he felt his mood deteriorating further which each passing day. When he would try and catch her eye during class she would look away, and tracking her down outside of the classroom proved an impossible task. Merlin knows what that girl got up to in her spare time.

At one point, he'd even considered sending her an owl to beg for forgiveness. He had gotten halfway through writing a confession that he had indeed been lying about the whole thing, before he scrunched it into a ball and threw it unceremoniously into the fire. He couldn't bring himself to actually lie about it; it left too sour a taste in his mouth.

The Undercroft had become a necessary retreat, and he frequented the room almost daily to work out his frustrations. He was halfway through casting a barrage of spells when he heard a voice behind him.

"Sebastian?"

He froze with his wand raised mid-cast, turning quickly to face her. Her eyes were red-rimmed and slightly bloodshot, like she had been crying recently. It made his heart clench.

"I'm sorry for calling you a liar," she said. "I - I've realised that... that you were right. Avery and I don't have much in common after all. I ended it with him today."

"I'm sorry," he said, automatically.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I think I was just angry to find out that my entire relationship wasn't what I thought it was, you know? I really thought I'd found someone who truly understood me."

"I shouldn't have helped him for so long and kept it from you. I apologise," he said, truthfully.

She looked up at him then, gaze calculating. "Why did you help him?"

"Well, the first time was a total accident, to be honest. After that...I don't know. I guess I saw how happy you were and didn't want to be the one to ruin it." He laughed sardonically, rubbing the back of his neck, "though I guess I did that anyway, didn't I?"

"It's quite the habit of yours," she remarked, teasing, but it made him feel awful all the same.

"Yeah..."

She smiled softly at him, before crossing the floor and throwing her arms around his middle in a hug. He tensed, surprised, but soon wrapped his own arms around her, holding her close. Her hair smelled of lavender and he realised in that moment how desperately he'd missed the scent.

"I missed you," he murmered into her hair, gripping her a little tighter. The admittance made him feel a bit vulnerable.

"I missed you, too," she answered, the words becoming muffled by his shoulder.

After a long moment she regretfully pulled away. There was a twinkle in her eyes.

"I must say, I never took you for such a romantic, Sebastian. Some of those date and gift ideas were incredibly thoughtful of you," she remarked.

He could feel his face heating. "Oh, don't start. You talk my ear off all day every day; it was easy."

"Yes, but you listened."

"I care about you. It matters to me what you like and what makes you happy," he replied, surprised at his own candour.

Her eyes widened slightly, and he was now absolutely sure he must be blushing. He cleared his throat, the moment suddenly feeling too charged.

"Now, how about we both forget about that idiot and try and hex each other into oblivion. Care for a duel?" He challenged, twirling his wand between his fingers.

She laughed, and it was beautiful. "You always know what to say to cheer me up," she said, withdrawing her own wand from her pocket.

Seeing that smile directed at him once more made his heart beat faster and he felt his own lips turn up in response. Perhaps the rest of the year wouldn't be so unbearable, after all.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #finally I managed to finish one of my WIPs!

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