#fic: homebound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hidden-ember · 5 months

Text

homecoming

🗯 pairing: captain john price x gender neutral reader

🗯 tags: nsfw - mdni, oral sex, penetrative sex, biting kink (giving), teasing, praise

a/n: baby's first fic!! i've been a long time smut and fic reader for several different fandoms, but thanks to captain price brainrot i have finally caved and started my own writing journey with this one. any feedback is welcome.

Captain John Price of the SAS found himself homebound after what was supposed to be a low stakes intel gathering operation went south and left him injured. The injuries he sustained were thankfully non life-threatening but were going to keep him out of commission for a while regardless. After nearly two months away from home, the captain was more than willing to take the excuse to be reunited with you.

Flashes of light occasionally illuminated the otherwise dark room, television tuned into the late night news as they reported a convenience store robbery in the town over, warning about a potential spike to cases of theft as the holidays were approaching. Rain thrumming on the roof and the low droning of the news anchor threatened to lull you to sleep. You stretched your arms and legs, hoping to shake off the sleepy feeling, knowing your boyfriend would be home any minute now.

The sound of a car door slamming pulled your attention away from the television. Headlights beamed into the window as a taxi rolled away from your flat. Heartbeat pounding in your chest, your eyes locked onto the door expectantly.

The knob twisted and in staggered your boyfriend, looking weary from travel. His cheeks red from the cold, beanie pulled over the tips of his ears, you couldn’t help but find the state of him pitiful as he dropped his bag on the floor with a thud. He carefully closed the door behind him, gentle eyes taking in your form as you rose from the couch.

“Thought I told ya to keep this locked when ’m not ‘round, hmm?” he murmured. The sound of Price’s familiar, gruff voice felt like it was actively soothing the ache in your heart that formed whenever he went away.

“Was expecting someone,” you smiled brightly, pattering over to him.

“That so?” The corner of his lips curled upwards, his own smile growing the closer you got to him.

“Mhm. And a pretty special someone, I might add.” You wrapped your arms around the back of his neck, drawing him nearer.

“Lucky someone, more like,” he replied, his voice cracking, tears welling in his eyes as he felt your touch for the first time in weeks. Slightly chapped from the harsh winter air, but soft and warm all the same, his lips came crashing down onto yours. The taste and smell of tobacco filled up your senses as Price’s tongue made its way into your mouth.

Within minutes of his arrival you found yourselves on the couch hastily stripping each other of clothing. You placed sloppy, errant kisses on each newly uncovered area of skin until all of your clothes lay discarded on the floor. Your eyes roamed his naked form, mouth slightly agape as if you were in disbelief that he was actually sitting next to you right now.

Price couldn’t help but chuckle at the way you ogled his muscled chest like you were seeing him for the first time. Taking your time to study the peaks and valleys of his toned torso, your fingers ran lightly through his chest hair. You noticed him not-so-subtly flexing his muscles under your touch, and your eyes darted up to meet his.

“Conceited bastard,” you shook your head, laughing at him.

“I’ll have you know I prefer the term egomaniac.” He matched your playfulness with a smirk. “Besides, ya seemed rather pleased with the show. Now c’mere, you.”

You clambered onto his inviting lap and his smirk split open into a delighted grin. Wrapping his good arm around your waist, he pulled you tightly against his torso.

Feeling his warmth surround you, your body began to ache for more of him. As if sensing your thoughts, his erection throbbed from where it sat wedged between your stomachs.

You kissed him with purpose now, tongue slipping between his parted lips. Before long you were lowering yourself onto his engorged cock. The sounds of your simultaneous moaning drowned out the television as the head of his cock pushed into your entrance.

Warm hands grasped your hips with such strength it caused you to let out a gasp. He guided you slowly down his length, praising you all the while for how good you were taking him, telling you how adorable you looked when his words of approval caused your cheeks to flush.

Price thrust up into you lazily, matching your pace as you rode him. Not wanting to be too aggressive with your injured boyfriend, you braced yourself on the back of the couch, nails digging into the cushions.

Price could practically feel his exhaustion dissipate as he lost himself to the sensations. He was home now — deep inside of you, your walls enveloping him better than any house could. Neither of you lasted very long before you felt your climaxes rapidly approaching.

Your eyes slammed shut once your orgasm hit, moaning in ecstasy as you felt his body tense beneath you. Price groaned as his thick, warm seed spilled out of his cock.

“Did so good,” he managed between breaths.

Chest heaving, you buried your face into his neck. He cradled the back of your head with his large hand, fingers splayed through your hair. His hot breath tickled your ear as he whispered to you affectionately.

“Missed you somethin’ awful, darlin’.” Your heart swelled at the sound of your favorite pet name, and in that moment you were certain you would never tire of welcoming him home like this.

After reluctantly pulling out and disentangling his body from yours, Price awkwardly reached down to the floor for something out of your view. He sat back up with his crumpled boxers in hand. You let out a sigh of contentment as he gently patted your entrance, carefully cleaning his spend from you so as not to make a mess on the couch.

Once you had caught your breath and the aftershocks of your orgasm subsided, you anxiously looked him over. You asked him several times if he was alright and if you had hurt him, not stopping until he grabbed your chin, angling your face to have you look directly into his eyes.

“Stop worryin’, okay? I’m not so fragile, love.” He spoke the words with confidence to reassure you, but the look in his eye suggested he needed the reminder himself.

Price stretched awkwardly, letting out a big yawn as he stood up from the couch. Some of his joints cracked as he extended them. He reached down to gather his clothes, handing you his t-shirt before tugging his sweats back on.

A puzzled expression spread across your face as you looked down at your own clothes strewn about the floor. Price followed your gaze, letting out a hearty laugh at your confusion.

“No need to bother with those. ‘M not done with you yet, pet” he winked, pushing the shirt further towards you. “This’ll do for now.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his insistence. The intensity of his gaze while he watched you pull his t-shirt over your head sent shivers running down your spine. Your lover gave you a once over, giving a satisfied nod as the shirt fell to just above your knees.

He tugged delicately on your hand, pulling you along behind him before letting go to grasp the railing as he started up the stairs. You watched nervously as the old stairs creaked, Price relying heavily on the railing for support when his braced knee threatened to buckle under his weight.

It hurt your heart to see the man in such a state. No matter how minor the knee sprain and dislocated shoulder were, they were reminders to both Price and yourself that he was not as invincible as you’d like to believe.

Perhaps even worse than the physical damage was the hit his pride took. You knew he needed to take it easy and had the perfect idea for tending to his bruised ego.

Price was a dominant man, both in combat and out. Giving him head normally turned into a sloppy mess, tears and drool streaming down your face as he stuffed your throat with his thick cock.

He wasn’t the only one who initiated these kinds of blowjobs; you quite enjoyed getting your face fucked— as often as Price was willing, as a matter of fact. The way the older man would take control of you, holding your head still as he took what he wanted from your obedient mouth turned you on to no end.

Price always returned home from deployments worked up and desperate for your attention, unsatisfied until he had used each of your holes. As thrilling as a rough face fucking sounded after going weeks without it, you settled for suggesting he lie back and let you suck him off.

He sat on the edge of the bed, an eyebrow raising at your proposition. Price brought his uninjured arm up, fingers running through his thick facial hair as he scratched his chin, as if deep in contemplation over the matter.

“Well, love, if that’s what ya really want then what kinda boyfriend would I be to not indulge you?” His amusement reached the corners of his eyes, highlighting the crow’s feet that you had come to adore. He shuffled backwards further onto the bed, the strain his movements placed on his injured limbs causing him to wince slightly.

Your brows furrowed with concern, but he cut you off as you opened your mouth to check on him.

“‘M fine.” He gestured with his head toward the bed, “Get over ‘ere.”

The mattress dipped further under your weight as you crawled up to him on your knees. You placed a soft kiss on his lips once you reached him. Price hummed contentedly when you broke the kiss, tugging at his bottom lip with your teeth.

He tugged his t-shirt off of you before tossing it onto the floor.

“Now that’s a better view,” he winked at you.

Taking care to not disturb his injuries, you planted your hands on his bare chest and pushed him back into a lying position.

As you lowered yourself down to his abdomen, he lifted his hips at an awkward angle, trying not to place too much pressure on his injuries.

Making quick work of pulling sweats down to his knees to spare him any unnecessary pain, you eagerly watched as his semi-hard cock fell free from its confines.

“Someone’s excited,” you teased before bringing your mouth to his happy trail. You planted tender kisses along it, slowly working your way lower. When you reached right above his hardening length, you nuzzled your face into the coarse hair.

You were very grateful that your boyfriend was not one for “manscaping;” the thick hair running from his belly button down to his genitals was one of your favorite features of his, and you let it be known on numerous occasions.

“You have no idea how much I missed this,” Price let out a low long breath as your lips trailed lower, your pace tantalizingly slow.

To his credit, he remained patient for quite some time as you lost yourself in the sensation of his body hair prickling your face, but when you showed no signs of beginning the blow job you promised, his restraint faltered.

“More,” he groaned — the word a command rather than a request.

“Be patient, baby,” you hummed softly against his skin, planting a firm kiss on his pubic bone.

Price’s breath hitched as your gaze met his. He brought his large hand down to grab a loose fistful of your hair, urging you on.

“You’ve had enough fun now,” Price grumbled before softening his tone in an attempt to level with you. “Please.”

“Oh, you sound so pretty when you beg.” You couldn’t help but smirk as you echoed words you’d heard from him several times before.

Price would argue that the way his face flushed red was due to his frustration, but you knew he was blushing from being called pretty.

Turning your attention to his inner thighs, you nipped lightly at his sensitive flesh, earning another moan from your beloved boyfriend. You kissed the spot softly in an effort to soothe the now tender skin, glancing upwards to meet his gaze. Icy blue eyes shot daggers back at you.

In your periphery you could see his now fully erect cock standing at attention, but you weren’t done playing quite yet. You grinned wickedly once more before burying your canines into his thigh, this time using more force.

“Fuckin’ hell.” Price arched his back off the bed, his hand moving from your head to grip the sheets tightly. His cock twitched expectantly, beginning to leak pre-cum.

“Come now, darlin’,” he panted, voice ragged with need.

“We both know those pretty little lips belong wrapped ‘round my cock.”

It was almost enough for you to give in. Almost.

You chuckled at his attempts at flattery and grabbed his thighs, taking care to not disturb his leg as you spread them further apart, granting access to your mouth’s next target.

You brought your lips to his scrotum, sucking on the bit of skin between his testicles before popping one into your mouth. Your tongue swirled around it as you sucked gently on the sensitive appendage.

“Aaahhh, fuck," Price moaned as he felt your warm mouth wrap around him, though it wasn’t where he wanted your mouth most. "Don't tease me like this, darlin’.”

You chuckled, sending vibrations through his balls. It startled you when Price let out something similar to a growl, the sound rumbling deep in his chest. Eyes widening, you pulled away from him, a string of saliva trailing behind.

“Okay, okay,” you surrendered as you could sense his frustration threatening to boil over.

Grabbing the base of his shaft, you moved to lightly swirl your tongue around the head of his cock. The lack of pressure was killing Price. His hips jerked upwards, begging for you to take him into your mouth.

“Ah ah,” you tutted, pushing him back down onto the mattress.

“Don’t strain yourself, baby,” you said in mock concern.

You let go of his cock and placed your tongue at the base of his shaft before slowly dragging it up his length. Halting at his slit, you held your tongue in place while looking up at him teasingly.

Price’s hand shot up to grasp the headboard behind him, knuckles whitening and jaw clenching.

“Sweetheart, you’re not bein’ very nice,” he hissed, ignoring the pain in his leg as his hips bucked again.

He began rutting against your tongue, the tip of his cock pushing against your top lip in a steady rhythm.

“Be good for me, won’t you?” He pleaded, his voice hoarse with desire.

Taking a deep breath to regain his composure, Price stopped his movements, allowing you to start to slowly take him into your mouth.

Teasing him was fun, but above all else you wanted to please him. You loved when your boyfriend would praise you and were determined to earn them the best way you knew how.

Your eyes never left his as you continued to wrap your mouth around his needy cock. His hand found its way down to grasp your hair once more, this time gently holding the back of your head as you lowered yourself down his shaft.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” Price whispered, head falling back onto the pillow as he felt you start to take his cock into your throat.

Price’s eyes rolled back in his head as he felt your warm, wet mouth engulf him. His hips bucked, this time meeting no resistance from you.

Tears welled in your eyes as he bottomed out deep in your throat. Holding your lips against his pubic bone, you moaned softly.

“Oh, god, yes,” Price groaned, the sensation of your moaning caused a shiver to run through his body. His hips jerked again and you gagged around his length, which only drove him more mad.

“Just like that,” he grumbled as you began moving your head once more. His hands slid down your back, gently kneading the flesh while you bobbed up and down on his cock.

Price’s reassuring touch and words of encouragement fueled you further – you sucked more aggressively now, increasing your pace.

Unable to hold back any longer, the sound of Price’s rhythmic grunting filled the room as you continued to milk him. You enjoyed hearing how vocal he was becoming, enjoyed the power you held over him when you worked his cock like this.

When you reached his head once more, you paused, briefly removing your mouth to catch your breath. You ran your tongue around the tip rapidly as you held Price’s gaze. The change in pressure and the sight of your drool running down his cock caused his head to start spinning.

“Goddamnit,” he hissed. His hands quickly returned to your head. You shot him a look as he started to push your head down his shaft, but you obliged, taking him deeper.

Reaching your hands beneath him, you dug your fingers into his glutes with a firm grip as your mouth kept a steady pace on his cock.

A strangled moan left Price’s lips as he felt your fingers digging into his toned ass. It was the perfect combination of pleasure and pain, driving him closer to the edge, his cock throbbing in anticipation.

Price felt the familiar tingle at the base of his spine, the one that always signaled he was about to lose control. He thrust his hips wildly against your mouth.

“‘M close,” he rasped. “Don’t stop.”

“Swallow it, yeah?” Price asked, his voice strained as he watched you obediently suck him off.

You hummed in response and you felt his body tense in your grasp. The tears flowed freely down your face now as you took him deeply time and time again.

Price’s body went rigid, his muscles tightening, eyes slamming shut. His hips jerked once more, pushing himself as deep into your throat as he could before he finally erupted with a long, low moan. His hot seed filled your mouth, his moans turning into gasps for air.

You swallowed, your throat working to accommodate the thick, warm flood of his release as his cock twitched. When he was finished, you didn’t pull away. Instead, your mouth moved up and down his shaft, cleaning him off until he was fully spent, his body shuddering.

His eyes opened slowly, meeting yours through the haze of lust and pleasure.

“My god…” he groaned as you lifted your mouth off of his cock with a loud pop. “You’re incredible, love.”

You released your hold on his backside, moving to lie on his chest as he pulled you into a warm embrace. Price planted a kiss on top of your head before relaxing back into the pillow as he caught his breath.

“Welcome home, baby,” you murmured, nuzzling further into him.

Price let out a small sigh of contentment, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles on your back. He was sure to be sore in the morning after tonight’s exertion, but at the moment he couldn’t care less. Your boyfriend knew you’d have him back on the mend in no time.

“S’good to be back,” he whispered softly, feeling the exhaustion of the day and the aftermath of his release catching up to him.

He made promises to return the favor to you before drifting off into slumber, holding you tightly as he felt your warmth seep into him. The sound of Price’s slowing heartbeat and the rain falling lightly on the roof lulled you to sleep shortly after. The mess the two of you had made and his unpacked bag remained downstairs, now long forgotten.

#john price x reader #captain price x reader #price x reader #cod smut #cod x reader #*mine

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roseharpermaxwell · 8 months

Note

do you have any shorter drarry fics that you would recommend to a new drarrier? under 10k and preferably explicit? thank you!!

Pausing my RWRB reading (I have an ask about firstprince fics too and I’m working on it!) to answer this, which is the nudge I’ve needed. I’ve done this for Dramione before (under 5k), but I especially love tempting readers to Drarry.

Short works are the unsung heroes of fandom. They don’t get enough love, which makes me so sad, because you definitely don’t always need 100k to deliver a stunning story. These are your bedtime stories, your palate cleansers, your individual serving sizes of serotonin. It’s okay to enjoy these even if you only read slow burn 100k+ fics, I promise. Live a little!

This is a sampling of some amazing favorites, but I’m always reading new things and will add to it regularly. If you find something you love, I know the author would love to hear it, and so would I! Take a deep dive into their work to find other gems.

Bite-Size Drarry - Under 10k (Part One) below:

Draco Might Die by @ghaniblue. G, 515. Draco’s first day as Hogwarts’ new Charms professor was an unmitigated disaster.

This Heart on My Sleeve by @lou-isfake. M, 1.1k It’s a hopeless ordeal, all at once: I am never going to be rid of him; I am never going to have him; it is always, always going to hurt.

Nick of Time by @mosrael. M, 1.1k. Draco Malfoy is ready to sacrifice everything for the man he loves. Will he find what he's looking for in the nick of time?

Reaching out, reaching up by @softlystarstruck. M, 1.3k. Harry Potter is a good lay. Draco wishes that fact was all he had taken away from the situation.

Dicking Draco Down by @lqtraintracks. E, 1.3k. It’s not a tease. It’s all prep. It’s necessary. Harry is, to be unsubtle about it, hung.

Weakness Leaving by @p1013. E, 1.3k. He's nineteen the first time he asks Ginny to hurt him during sex, and he's a day older than that when she tells him this isn't working. He's twenty when he goes to his first kink club and finally gets what he needs.

RAPTURE CLOSE, FIND JESUS by softlystarstruck. G, 1.4k. “What’s rapture?”

“Huh?”

“What’s rapture?”

“Dunno. Why?”

“There was a sign a while back. You were messing with the radio. It said ‘RAPTURE CLOSE, FIND JESUS’. All caps.”

true things by @hogwartsfirebolt. M, 1.5k. All Draco's ever known is how to guard his heart. But Harry sneaks in, anyway. A love story.

Threshing by @academicdisasterfic. E, 1.5k. For Draco, following fate was the easy part.

I Knew You by @phoebe-delia. NR, 1.5k. A series of ficlets based on the songs "august," "cardigan" and "betty," from Taylor Swift's album folklore.

Like You a Latte by hogwartsfirebolt, @peachpety. M, 1.6k. Harry Potter has mastered the skill of creating latte art. Or so he thinks until his muse and crush—Instagram influencer Draco Malfoy—shows up at the Weasley’s caf.

Take that ride by @andithiel. T, 1.6k. It’s been three weeks, six days, 19 hours and 37 minutes since Draco fell into Harry’s bed the first time and they still haven’t talked about it.

Because You Called the Wrong Person, But He Was Into It Anyway by @gracerene. E, 1.7k. Draco has called the wrong number. Harry doesn't mind one bit.

Homebound by academicdisaster. M, 1.8k. After escaping England, Harry and Draco try to find a new home.

The Dog and The Drunk Slytherin by academicdisaster. T, 1.8k. After learning Harry wants to get a dog, Draco gets very drunk and decides to do something about it. In a very normal way.

All Hues in His Controlling by @wolfpants. E, 1.8k. Harry’s gorgeous at thirty-five, but his beauty as a young man leans closer to pretty, almost strikingly so. “Eighth Year,” Draco murmurs in wonder. “This is you in Eighth Year.” - Harry caters to Draco's very particular set of kinks when he uses magic to de-age himself.

Truth’s Day-Star by wolfpants. E, 1.8k. Draco’s stares had started off curious but soon turned arch. He sometimes plays with Harry’s hair while he does it, his body spread out in his chair like liquid silver, all long, pliant lines. Harry, meanwhile, sneaks looks like they’re forbidden. Bless him. Doesn’t he know how much I want him to look at me like that? - The world is miserable and so is Sirius. But is he really imagining all of this tension between Harry and Draco?

(you) find me when the lights go down by @beyondtheclose. T, 1.8k. Harry can hear footsteps on the stairs behind him but doesn't bother turning to look. There's only one person likely to follow him out here at this time of night. "Potter," comes the crisp voice, easily recognisable as Draco. "You do know that most sane people, especially those who spend every waking moment complaining of being cold, would cast a warming charm. Or at the very least grab a sweater. Not spend every night attempting to turn into an icicle." - What makes someone a ghost? Because if it's dying, Harry's got that covered.

That life can change by @gallifrey1sburning. M, 1.9k. Maybe that’s why I started hanging out with Malfoy. Two major benefits: it pisses people off, and he doesn’t expect anything from me. We mostly just drink and lie around on the carpet listening to music. A story of two boys slowly and quietly falling together.

Game…Set…Malfoy by @nanneramma. M, 1.9k. Harry teaches Draco a new game. Draco plays dirty.

Pissing for England by @moonflower-rose. M, 2k. They're sharing a flat as part of an Auror training exercise, but if Ron can't learn to piss more quietly, they may not make it out alive.

Aching with Want by @nv-md. E, 2k. Draco loves Harry, and would do anything to make him happy. When the cold wakes Draco in the middle of the night, he gives Harry everything he wants...everything he's too scared to ask for.

Obliviously Ever After by @gloivy. M, 2k. Harry Potter isn’t gay. He just likes to shag Draco Malfoy now and again. OR: Five times Harry obliviously denies the feelings blooming between himself and Draco, and the one time he admits it.

Fixation by @dorthyanndrarry. E, 2.1k. Harry was back to staring at Draco again.

“Harry’s just fixated,” Hermione said absently, “They do that, the two of them.”

“I’m not fixated,” Harry said, frowning faintly, “I’m just… enjoying the view, sort of thing.”

“When do you get tired of the view then?” Ron asked flatly, “Beeeeen a month now, mate.”

Willing Blood by lq_traintracks and @the-starryknight. E, 2k. Seven days together, years ago; seventy-four hours and thirty-eight minutes trapped in this house alone; and now one chance to stop himself from draining Potter dry. Will Draco take it? Will Harry let him?

Truth be told by @tenthousandyearsx. E, 2.3k. Playing Truth or Dare with the Slytherins had been a terrible idea. Being pinned against a wall by Malfoy while still on bloody Veritaserum was... well, hot as hell, and more than Harry thought he'd ever get, to be perfectly honest.

Drive, Draco by @Erebeus-roxy. M, 2.4k MCD. I got my driver license today, but you're not around to see.

You Can Make My Night by @devilrising. M, 2.4k. Draco has never been to a place like this; an underground, queer speakeasy. There are men everywhere, dancing, drinking, talking. He can't believe he gets to be a part of this.

Or: how Draco Malfoy meets Harry Potter in a bar in the 1920s

Rocking Rodeo by @coffeedrgn87. E, 2.5k. Draco loves the rocking rodeo...what else is there to say?

In a Jam by peachpety. T, 2.6k. When the boys go blackberrying at Michaelmas, Draco discovers that magic and berries don’t mix, and all Harry wants is to snog him. If only Ron would let him.

Just Talking by @cavendishbutterfly. T, 2.6k. Harry's been trying and failing to talk to Draco for ages. It's hard, since he fancies him. It's easier to text about it. Even when he's right across the table at pub night. Who knows? If Harry's funny enough, maybe someday Draco will like him back.

Unspoken Affection by @janieohio. E, 2.6k "Sometimes, when you smile, I swear I hear music, then I realise it’s just the beat of my heart in my ears...Come back so I can dance."

Harry finds a stack of post-its, and what starts as simply leaving Draco a reminder with a bit of romance turns into a lifetime of memories.

Fledgling by @tackytigerfic. G, 2.7k. Two young dads meet at a farmers market. They exchange parenting tips, longing looks, and root vegetables.

Feral by @drarrily-we-row-along. M, 2.8k. Of the two of them, people would say Draco was the scary one; he knew categorically more jinxes and hexes, and he was absolutely ruthless. Harry tended to hold back a bit, he chose spells that wouldn't permanently injure.

But in this moment, after Harry had covered Draco with the shield, Harry went absolutely feral.

At wand point by tenthousandyears. E, 2.8k. Harry should not be so turned on by being held at wand point by Draco Malfoy... yet here he is.

proven lands by @oknowkiss. E, 2.8k. The thing about circles is, they always end at the start. OR: A story about falling in love at the end of the Earth. (told in 31 microfics -- this is the "director's cut")

And the music plays bitter, plays sweet by Andithiel. M, 2.9k. He doesn’t know why he does this to her, why he can’t leave Draco Malfoy be. After the first time he promised himself it wouldn’t happen again. For a long time it didn’t. But Draco had become an itch he needed to scratch; the memory of him rutting against Harry all consuming, making him lose focus, making him want another taste. And another. And another. Until all he could taste was Draco, on his tongue, on his skin, all around him, ever present. Never leaving.

Life has a firm grip by @shealwaysreads. M, 2.9k. Harry and Draco don’t get older, but they do get wiser. (Vampire!Draco, Master of Death Harry)

takes one to know one by hogwartsfirebolt. M, 2.9k. I watched him go through many. Months after our groups merged, after I was forced to think of him when I thought of the word “friends”, I became used to it. I learned his moves, learned what desire looked like on his face.

Secretly, between the shadow and the soul by @teacup-tai. T, 2.9k. The thing about surrender is that once you accept the unavoidable rhythm of change, the surprising uncontrollability of life, and the astonishing inevitability of feelings, it is easy.

like the sun came out by academicdisaster. E, 3k. Harry realises that Draco loves him, and it's like waking up.

the shape of memory by hogwartsfirebolt. T, 3k. Harry's brush with death has left consequences. Thankfully, Draco is there to help him navigate the uncertain waters of his mind.

Mens Rea by lq_traintracks. E, 3.1k. Mens Rea: the mental element of a person's intention to commit a crime; or knowledge that one's action or lack of action would cause a crime to be committed.

“Draco Malfoy, how do you plead?”

I’m super fucking guilty.

Together Like This by shealwaysreads. E, 3.1k. Draco attempts to prove to himself that he doesn’t deserve what he wants. Harry proves him wrong.

drape me in your warmth by softlystarstruck. M, 3.1k. Malfoy, even quiet as he is now, is the only thing that manages to shine through the fog of Harry's mind.

Nothing Compares by @maesterchill. T, 3.1k. Working in the International Auror division doesn't exactly lend itself to Harry finding love or having any sort of relationship, what with all the unsociable hours and catching bad guys and never being in one location for more than a few days. Not to mention the permanent fixture of his partner, Malfoy.

So, how does a song about lost love end up being the thing that helps Harry find love, in the location he least expected it?

Waited for This by @phdmama. E, 3.1k. Malfoy’s been working out, Harry ruminates, as he stands by the kitchen sink and drinks his first coffee of the day in preparation to go open the cafe. Probably doing his squats. Harry should ask him about his routine. Except then Malfoy might think Harry has been staring at his ass. Which he definitely has not been. It’s just… hard to miss when Malfoy is bent over the display case unloading his muffins and mini pies and cookies and whatnot.

Harry is only drooling over the croissants, not Malfoy and his posterior. And biceps. And eyes.

I Fall On Grass by tackytiger. T, 3.1k. Harry loves his garden, and he loves his sons, and he also loves— Well, he definitely feels something for Draco, who is currently distractingly topless under a pear tree. The language of flowers isn't much good when it comes to big declarations, though; Harry needs to find the words to tell Draco just exactly what he's been feeling all these years.

Market Saturdays by @iota. M, 3.2k. In which Harry is an accidental part-time cheesemonger, Draco is an organic farmer and they fall in love. Not an AU.

I Swear I'll Keep You With Me by @dodgerkedavra. E, 3.2k. Harry Potter doesn't mean to drop the Snitch in Malfoy Manor. In order to get it back, he makes an Unbreakable Vow to keep Draco Malfoy with him. It's the chandelier's fault, really.

emerald and lace by icarusinflight. E, 3.3k. They're expensive and elegant - like Draco - and Harry just wants to touch them. He gets to.

Salt and Sauce by @onbeinganangel. T, 3.3k. Sure, of course he knows how you take your tea. But does he know your chippy order?

Enjoy the Silence by shealwaysreads. M, 3.4k. Draco stops speaking, gets some tattoos, and discovers that Harry’s happy to be quiet with him.

Even the Night by tackytiger. M, 3.4k. I'm so bad at this. Two boys meet on a rooftop. Read and find out more. Featuring lots of cigarettes, a Midsummer sky, close encounters in a bath, and plenty of fireworks.

Countdown to a Life by tackytiger, E, 3.4k. A balcony, first kisses, December to December. A little story of building up a life together.

Half Awake by academicdisaster. E, 3.4k. Talking is hard, and kissing is easier. And so is everything that comes after kissing.

A Shorts Story About Love by onereader. E, 3.4k. House-sharing with Slytherins, student life, magic weed, and short shorts. Harry's life at university might be strange, but he wouldn't change it for the world.

Continued in Part Two!

Give the authors some love! I also adore hearing if you found a new favorite fic or author.

I’ll be regularly adding to this, so if you’re seeing this as a reblog, feel free to check my Master List of Recommendations for the most current list. If you see yourself and you’re not tagged, or I've got a broken or misdirected link, please let me know!

#drarry fic rec #drarry fanfiction #drarry fanfic #hp fanfic #drarry

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tonystarchive · 8 months

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IRONDAD & SPIDER-SON WHUMP MASTERLIST—PART 1

Last Updated: September 2023

As promised, here is my long overdue Irondad Whump Masterlist! This list took an embarrassing amount of time to compile and over forty pages in my Google Docs (!!!!!).

Due to the sheer amount of fics, I will be posting in parts. Within these posts, each fic will categorized by its most prevalent trope/theme.

I hope the work from these talented contributors brings as much whumpy joy to you as they do to me!

Also, a very special shoutout to my most treasured Irondad authors iron_spider, for_the_night, madasthesea, losingmymindtonight, AdVitemAeternum, MotherKarizma, and so many more! This post is dedicated to you. ♡

Adoption/Tony Stark is Peter Parker’s Biological Father

5 Times Tony Acted Like Peter’s Dad by for_the_night

Summary: “And the one time he actually was." *Featuring an award evening, nightmares, a father-son field trip, appendicitis, and a very special gift—oh, and SO many forehead kisses.*

Alive and Healing by Watermeloness

Summary: “‘...bank robbery gone wrong in Queens. We’re receiving live footage from the crime site, where a 15-year-old teenager has been severely injured. Witnesses report a young boy getting shot after trying to stop the perpetrators. The last we’ve heard, his state is critical and he’s being rushed to…’ Statistically, there are a lot of 15-year-old teenagers in Queens. The city is filled with 15-year-old teenagers that are all brave in their own ways. This doesn’t have to be their teenager. But Peter is not picking up his phone.”

Dad Is Just A Word (You Give It Meaning) by madasthesea

Summary: “Father's Day, two years after May dies. Peter has something special to give and something important to say.”

For Want of a Dad (In Need of a Son) by GhostInTheBAU

Summary: “So, have you given the camping trip any more thought?’ Ned asks, and he groans internally at the change in subject. He'd much rather go back to talking about his non-existent love life, thanks. The trip is during spring break—a four-day long trek out into the wilderness, camping and hiking and gathering who even knows what, learning all about nature and the great outdoors. But the real kicker? It's an event specifically designed for fathers and their sons, which is something Peter doesn't have, and something he will never be. Not again." Or: Peter longs to have a deeper relationship with his mentor, a more meaningful connection; but he's managed to convince himself that the only reason Tony Stark spends any time with him at all is purely because of his enhancement. Because of Spider-Man.

Homebound by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “Shortly after Homecoming, Peter starts having panic attacks. Tony happens to have some experience with those. What do you do when everyone around you has a tendency to die? What do you do when the last person, the most precious, the one you absolutely cannot lose, maybe wants you? Do you give in, or do you run? Do you take what they offer, or do you keep them as far away from the disaster that is your life as you can?”

I Love You More Than Anything Series by iron_spider

Summary: “The highs and lows of Tony unexpectedly becoming a single dad at 31—from Peter’s early baby years, all the way past the defeat of Thanos”

I’ll Always Protect You (Even If You Don’t Want Me To) by JAWorley

Summary: “So much changed with Peter’s body chemistry after the bite that new things are still coming up that surprise him. One day he and Tony are having a fight and Peter is so stressed out he ends up having a seizure. Seizures… great, so that’s a thing now, and Tony has decided that the best thing is for Peter to stop being Spider-Man. The more the seizures happen, the more protective Tony becomes. All Peter wants is to have his life back." Or: May asks Tony to take joint custody of Peter to help with the Spider-Man thing and this new stress seizure issue. Peter learns that sometimes parents do what’s necessary even if it’s not a popular choice with their kids.

Questions of Science, Science and Progress (Do Not Speak As Loud As My Heart) by l_u_c_k_y_c_l_o_v_e_r

Summary: “I had to find you, tell you I need you. Tell you I set you apart." Or: Peter stays with Tony for a few weeks, and the pair get into all kinds of shenanigans. And maybe, just maybe, those few weeks will usher in something more.

These Days I’ll Sit On Cornerstones by Finny3120

Summary: “Tony was ill-prepared to find that the vigilante he'd recruited was a 14-year-old boy. He was even less prepared for Peter Parker to be mute. But Peter hasn't spoken since his uncle died. And the more Tony works with the teen, the less it matters to him. He hears Peter just fine.”

You’re Stuck With Me by for_the_night

Summary: “I’m adopting you. I don’t care what you have to say.’ Peter gaped. Of all of the entrances he’d expected from Mister Stark after being alone in a hospital room for hours, that wasn’t one of them." Or: Peter gets taken to hospital with a ruptured appendix and Tony comes to a daunting realization of just how little hold he has on the kid outside of Medbay.

Alternate Universe

My Baby, My Baby by SpaceCowboysFromMars

Summary: “Silence falls over them like a warm blanket. Distantly, there’s commotion down on the street as people walk home from clubs. Peter thinks Tony might be his best friend in the whole world. After a long, peaceful moment, Tony says, voice dripping with warmth, ‘Night, kid.’ ‘Goodnight, Mr. Stark." Or: Tony and Peter in the middle of the night, in five alternate universes.

Visiting Hours by Sara (ctrsara)

Summary: “Boss?’ Tony jolted out of his half-asleep state. ‘What’s up, FRI?’ ‘There is a visitor here to see you.’ Tony jumped up. Anyone he knew would usually call or text first, so he was immediately on alert. ‘Who is it, FRI?’ ‘I need you to have an open mind, and know that I do not believe this person is any threat.’ Oh, yeah, that made him feel better. ‘Excuse me? How about you let me decide that, Watson?’ He started walking towards the door, activating his watch gauntlet. ‘Wait, Boss.’ He was annoyed, but he trusted his AI enough to stop and listen. ‘I also need you to know that I have performed biometric scanning, and this person is who they appear to be. However, they insist they’re not from our universe, and that is the part I don’t understand." — In a universe where he never invented time travel, and never brought anyone back, Tony Stark gets a late-night visitor he never could have expected. Prompt taken from @idk-bruh-20 Irondad fic idea #97 on Tumblr. Idea from @derpmallow.

What The Heart Knows by AdVitamAeternam

Summary: “When Peter wakes up, his head is being assaulted by a sledgehammer. He has no idea where he is. He has no idea what happened to him. He has no idea who he is, other than ‘Peter.’ But then, he looks over at the man who is scrutinizing him with worried eyes, and he knows who the man is. That's his dad." Or: The one where Peter gets hit over the head really, really hard and has temporary amnesia, and makes a very reasonable assumption based on the data presented to him.

Angst

A Far Green Country by madasthesea

Summary: “He just wanted Peter to be happy. More than anything in the world, he wanted Peter to be happy. Oh, Tony thought as that realization sunk down into the pit of his stomach and took root. I love him.”

A River To Skate Away On by frostysunflowers

Summary: “Peter has survived a spider bite, a building falling on him, turning to dust and being a teenager. He can handle anything. Except being forgotten.”

Agape by canon irondad (tomlinsoul)

Summary: “It's Tony's first date night with Pepper since the Snap, and Peter can't wait to spend some quality time with his little sister. Too bad a pair of hapless intruders, head trauma, and a panicked helicopter ride throw a spanner in the works." Whumptober 2022 Day 8: Head Trauma + Day 7: Seizures + Day 19: Repeatedly Passing Out + BTHB: Big Brother Instinct

Broken Heart Syndrome by iron_spider

Summary: “Tony is clearly really upset, the kind of upset that Peter’s only seen the likes of a couple of times, and it’s too close after everything happening to really talk about it. He can definitely see that now. ‘I’m sorry,’ Peter says. ‘I’m sorry, I should have answered—’ ‘Yeah, you should have answered!’ Tony yells. His bottom lip is trembling and he shakes his head, his eyes wild. He runs his hand over his forehead. ‘Okay, okay, I’ll know for next time,’ Peter says. He doesn’t know what’s gonna make this better. Probably nothing. ‘There better not be a next time,’ Tony says, dropping his hand from his face. ‘God, like this? Pete, no one knew where he was but you, and you—you kept it that way so nobody knew what the hell was happening, and you—you weren’t answering, kid, and that asshole sent me all that shit plucked directly from my nightmares, and I was trying to be strong for May because she was worried, too, and you—and you, I—I thought I wasn’t gonna ever—I thought—Jesus, Peter, you don’t think, you don’t—’ Tony bends over, clutching at his arm and breathing hard through his mouth.”

Dead In There, You’re Dead In There by iron_spider

Summary: “Peter, you’ve been acting insane for the past however many days and it’s giving me an ulcer, what’s going on, what did I do? Tell me. Tell me and I’ll fix it.’ Peter is still stalking around, and Friday is listing off his injuries, from a concussion to broken ribs to a sprained ankle, and Tony feels sick looking at it all. ‘You’ll fix it,’ Peter says, glancing over at him with pure disdain, the look bookended by matching explosions somewhere behind them. ‘Yeah it’s something you can’t fix, if it happens, nope, can’t fix it, it would just—but you’re just saying—’ Tony starts forward towards him. ‘Pete, explain to me what’s happening, please.’ ‘The protocol, the protocol,’ Peter insists, waving his hands through the air. Tony shakes his head. ‘The protocol?’ ‘The Avalon Protocol, Tony,’ Peter spits out, with venom.”

Dead-Eyed by iron_spider

Summary: “Hey,’ Tony says, fast, into the phone. ‘Everything alr—’ ‘Hey, no, I don’t know where he is,’ MJ says, in a rush of breath. ‘I don’t know where he is, Tony, and I know I have access to that tracking thing, but it feels weird for me to do that, and it doesn’t feel weird for you to do that, so you should do that. And find him and tell me what’s going on.’ ‘Okay, calm down,’ Tony says, getting up and stepping back from his workstation. ‘You know you can’t tell me to calm down, because I’m calm, and I’m always calmer than you because you’re like, inherently, not calm. At all, about anything, but especially about your family—’ ‘Okay, this is not calm,’ Tony says, starting to pace, even though he’s not calm either, she’s right. She sighs loudly in his ear. ‘When was the last time you saw him?”

Earthly Dust From Off Thee Shaken by ExpectoPatronum

Summary: “It had started with leaving his bedroom light on at night before he went to sleep. For a while, that had been enough. But then it wasn't.”

“Forever” by WithACherryOnTop

Summary: “Peter could feel the darkness creeping up on him again, like it had only moments earlier in the Avengers Compound bullpen. ‘‘ony.’ ‘Just go to sleep, bud.’ Tony gently scratched his nails at the nape of Peter’s neck. Peter collapsed bonelessly in Tony’s arms, all evidence of the tears, crying, and sobs hidden except for a stained shirt and the boy’s even, congested breaths. Tony wiped a hand over his face, a bit flustered. ‘Wow. That went way worse than I expected." Disclaimer: All characters belong to Marvel and/or Sony. I do not give permission for this work to be copied and/or posted to any other sites.

Gonna Pick Up The Pieces by orphan_account

Summary: “I don’t want to talk to you,’ Peter says. He’s been hiding for the better part of an hour, sitting in the cabin’s laundry room, wedged between the washer and the dryer. Something about the sounds coming off of them calms him, weirdly. The swish of water, the rumble of the motors, cotton rubbing cotton, the button on a pair of jeans dinging the side of the barrel. ‘That’s bullshit,’ Tony says. ‘You always want to talk to me.’ As true as that usually is, this time it rings discordant and tense. Peter clenches his jaw. ‘Not really,’ he says. ‘You just sorta assume that.’ ‘Of course I do. I make for lovely conversation.’ ‘Eh.”

Head’s On The Fritz by augustheart

Summary: "Hello?’ ‘Tony?’ ‘The one and only. What’s up, kiddo?’ The answer rises up in Peter's throat. Stops at the back of his tongue and wobbles there, heavy and leaden. He wants to spit it out, to cough it into the unbearable silence, to not be loud—but, to be steady. ‘I—’ he says. He trembles. ‘Can you—come over? Please?" Or: Tony makes things better

Hold Me Together by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter still doesn’t feel quite solid. Sometimes Tony can’t believe he’s really there either. They cope.”

I Have You by sweetspiderstew

Summary: “Tony has Peter all to himself, and there's nothing else like some good quality time in the workshop, but little mishaps happen, and there's a lot of hugging.”

I’ll Be Right Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Peter has a nightmare, and Tony goes to be sure he’s okay. It’s not the first one of its kind.”

It Came At Night by Marvelous_Writer

Summary: “What’s supposed to be a normal weekend visit to the Compound turns into one of disaster when unexpected visitors show up." (Set after Spider-Man: Homecoming) Whumptober Day Five: Gunpoint

It’s Time to Leave (and Turn to Dust) by hopeless_hope

Summary: "We’re going to help you, I promise, but you’ve got to trust me. Do you trust me?’ Peter looks at his mentor, fear written across his face. He raises a shaking hand back to Tony’s chest, and Tony places his hand over the kid’s. Peter closes his eyes and feels the hard surface of the arc reactor against his palm. Peter doesn’t like soft things, but this isn’t soft. It’s solid and steady and strong and feels like a truth he can believe in. It feels like presence. ‘Yeah, I trust you." (In which Peter has trouble coping with the events of Infinity War, but a certain Tony Stark is there to help.)

Meltdown by inkinmyheartandonthepage

Summary: “You said two-thirty,’ Peter said, acting as if he hadn’t heard Tony. ‘I forgot that you changed it to two thirty and not three.’ Tony took a step towards Peter. ‘Hey, Pete. It’s fine. You’re not that late kiddo. Hell, I’ve been to board meetings hours late.’ The joke didn’t land, and Peter’s eyes started to well with tears. He took in a hiccupping breath. ‘Oh god. I forgot. I forgot." Or: Peter isn't coping after Titan and has been doing everything to keep busy and not think about it. Everything comes to head when he forgets that a time was changed in his busy schedule leading to a meltdown.

Mine, And Yours by crowkag

Summary: “Is it Peter?’ He was met with loaded silence. The anxiety spark became an anxiety plunge and twist. ‘Happy. Is it Peter?’ ‘It’s… well. Who else would it be, right?’ ‘Hogan.’ He hated this. The spark, the plunge, the twist. The tension creeping from his shoulder blades, clawing down arms both flesh and metal, somehow, someway, and bunching up inside his palms. The hysteria of it all. ‘It’s—alright, I won’t sugarcoat it. The kid’s alive, but he got shot, Tony. Twice." Or: Tony reunites with Peter in a less-than-ideal manner.

Relax, Just Breathe by hailfire_73

Summary: “Tony,’ said Peter, lifting his head from the glass, his stubbornness spent. ‘I don’t feel so—’ ‘Do not,’ said Tony, through gritted teeth, and meeting Peter’s eyes in the rearview mirror. He had just one hand on the steering wheel as he drove them into the night. ‘Finish that sentence.’ Morgan leaned over, hung out of her booster seat, and whispered, ‘It gives dad attacks." Or: The Starks go on a road trip that goes wrong when Peter gets food poisoning from questionable carnival food.

Scars Can Heal And Reveal Just Where You Are by parkrstark

Summary: “Jesus Christ, Pete,’ the voice says again, and it's not just a voice. It's a voice that belongs to the shadow. The shadow is light in the dark. It's warm. ‘What are you doing on the floor? You're lucky you're by your bed or else it would have been you breaking my fall.’ Peter blinks at the shadow and can't tell if he's comforted or irritated by the new company. ‘What? No quip about me breaking a hip?’ There's silence. ‘Peter?"

Shots Ring Out by itsluckyyou

Summary: “Peter Parker had training. Training to deal with robbers, petty crime, and possible alien invasions. Nothing could have possibly trained him for this, though." Or: There's a shooter wandering the halls of Midtown School of Science and Technology.

The Pills (They Gotta Go) by searchingforstars

Summary: “Tony. What are these?’ Tony glances up. Sees the packs of pills clenched in Peter’s fist. He’s sure some of them must be dust judging by the force that Peter is holding them with. ‘My pills?’ ‘Why are they sitting at the back of the pantry?’ Peter asks, voice dangerously low." Or: Tony decides taking his medication is optional. Peter strongly disagrees.

We All Have A Hunger by MotherKarizma

Summary: “Morgan,’ he croaked, throat afire, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. ‘Hey—hey, it’s okay, I’m just…’ ‘You’re sick.’ She mustered up something like bravery, using it to straighten her back and plaster a very grown-up look on her face. ‘I’ll get Daddy!’ ‘No!’ Morgan jumped, eyes wide. Peter fought to calm his voice. He offered her a smile that couldn’t have been convincing, not even to a five-year-old. ‘No, you don’t have to. I feel better now. You don’t have to tell him.’ Morgan’s lips wobbled. Peter knew what her fake pout looked like well enough to know this wasn’t it. ‘Petey…’ Peter had a lot of reasons to feel guilty. He felt guilty for scaring her. He felt guilty for forgetting to lock his bedroom door, for making scaring her a possibility. He kind of, in a way, felt guilty for doing it in the first place, though not nearly enough to stop. But more than anything, he felt guilty for this: ‘Morgan, promise me you won’t tell him. He…he won’t let us swim anymore if you do. And I’m not sick, my tummy just hurt a little bit, but I’m all better now. Promise me you won’t tell him, okay?’ ‘But…’ ‘Morgan. Promise.”

We’re Here by An_Odd_Idea

Summary: “Comfortember prompt 3: Nightmares Peter has nightmares about when Thanos stabbed Tony on Titan”

Who Needs a Happy New Year When You Can Have a Happy Forever? by searchingforstars

Summary: “Peter's already feeling insecure about his place in Stark family holiday traditions, but it turns out it doesn't really matter because New Year’s Eve is significantly less fun when you’re a pair of PTSD-riddled superheroes, anyway." Or: Tony has a panic attack in a Burger King.

Without You (I Was Broken) by parkrstark

Summary: "How did you get shot? You just webbed me up 5 stories from being shot!’ ‘D-Didn’t know it was coming.’ ‘Dammit, Peter! This isn’t the first time your spidey sense hasn’t worked. I tried to give you the benefit of the doubt because Rhodey told me I was being insane. Why didn’t you tell me it wasn’t always working? You shouldn’t go out into battle like this when your powers are being wonky and—’ ‘You’re here.’ ‘What?’ ‘You’re here.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I don’t...I can’t really feel the danger when you’re around."

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maccreadysbaby · 5 months

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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne Masterlist

in which, after falling into bruce wayne’s custody, bentley whittaker endures the struggles of your average ten-year-old-boy: starting school, making friends, solving two dozen missing persons cases, having an anxiety attack in a morgue, playing robin for a single night, and catching the eye of gotham’s newest and most dangerous rising supervillain. (he’ll tell bruce about it soon, he swears.)

first fic of the hundred days series linked here! this is fic number two!

one — miracle worker

two — metahuman problems

three — worry yourself sick

four — useless, worthless, and everything in between

five — bristol vs crime alley

six — juvenile delinquent

seven — the secret keeper

eight — safe with me

nine — pity

ten — bludgeoned by a book

eleven — babybird

twelve — targeted

thirteen — acquaintances

fourteen — bird of prey

fifteen — unwelcome memories

sixteen — without a trace seventeen — revelation eighteen — hail the puppeteer nineteen — taking the lead twenty — i‘d give you my lungs (so you could breathe) twenty-one — murder central twenty-two — too close to home twenty-three — boiling twenty-four — breakout twenty-five — hurricane twenty-six — a glimpse into the future(s) twenty-seven — breaking and entering twenty-eight — the truth twenty-nine — the reaper thirty — asphyxiation thirty-one — homebound thirty-two — reunions thirty-three — drowning thirty-four — windstorm thirty-five — arsonist thirty-six — over the edge (almost) thirty-seven — plan b thirty-eight — air and fire and water (oh my)

BOOK ONE! 😆

FACECLAIMS FOR BENTLEY, ASTEN, AND NICO 🥳

BENTLEY’S PORTRAIT! 😭

HOW ASTEN MET NICO (A GLIMPSE INTO HIS HOMELIFE AND MENTAL STATE) 😢

WHERE WAS ASTEN IN CHAPTER SEVENTEEN? (A LOOK BEHIND THE SCENES OF CHAPTER SEVENTEEN)😔

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for-a-longlongtime · 8 months

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On Dieter, Goya's Black Paintings, and Pedro on Talk Art

Alright y'all, it's Saturday evening, I have nothing better to do (I actually do but I don't feel like it), so welcome to my mini TED Talk about 'how to pay too much fucking attention to the Pedro cinematic universe'. None of this is new, and maybe everybody already knew about this, but I didn't... so here's a nerdy tangent courtesy of googling/wikipedia-ing.

I was reading a Dieter!fic (this one right here by @chaoticgeminate - go read her writing!) earlier today, which refers to the 'Saturn Devouring His Son' painting - that giant mural Dieter is working on in The Bubble:

(his brush isn't even touching the wall tho, ha)

The original 'Saturn' by Goya

The fic mentioned its part of 'The Black Paintings', so I got curious and started googling. I'm no art major or expert, so please allow me to just paraphraze the Wikipedia page. 'Saturn' is part of a group of 14 Goya paintings that are called Pinturas Negras/The Black Paintings. They "portray intense, haunting themes, reflective of both his fear of insanity and his bleak outlook on humanity" --this was late in Goya's life, and was connected to several illnesses he had experienced (and the fear of relapsing) and political turmoil in Spain at the time (post-Napolean war, changing Spanish government, etc.

Trivia fact 1: Goya actually made these paintings right on the walls of the Quinta del Sordo (so-called Deaf Man's villa) where he was staying -- so I love that Apatow had Dieter also paint right on the walls.

Trivia fact 2: while Goya was living in this villa, he actually became gravely ill (again) - not by a pandemic obviously, but it's hard to not link that loosely to the COVID period. He had never intended for these 'Black Paintings' to become public; "these paintings are as close to being hermetically private as any that have ever been produced in the history of Western art" (the murals were eventually transfered to canvas by other folks once he had moved out of the villa). Switching back to The Bubble -- I love how the tragic influence of Goya's illness(es) and art/things 'made at home away from the world, not intended for an audience' (so obviously, in a bubble) has that connection to the COVID experience and how many folks were suddenly homebound, along with the burden of illness in many ways (lord knows this all did a serious number on our mental health). In the movie, Dieter and the others do not want to go into isolation again, but that solitude is what eventually led him to painting on the walls in his room. This is not a 'grand discovery' of any kind, but I got a kick out of the parellels once I read up on it - and honestly makes me appreciate the movie a bit more, haha.

Not happy about another quarantine period.

Alright, more hyperfocusing after the cut:

Some googling led me to a post from last year by @nicolethered (gifs in this post are hers), and she included screencaps of the walls of Dieter's room (during that drug scene), which I hadn't even noticed while watching the movie. Upon taking a closer look, I noticed they're outtakes from other pieces of Goya's Black Paintings! I thought that was really cool, they sure worked on the details with that set (there's one more that's shown in a different shot but I can't exactly figure out which outtake that is):

First one is a mirror image from Two Old Men Eating Soup and the second one is basically Satan aka 'The Great He-Goat' from the Witches' Sabbath painting. Which IMO makes for fucking hilarious perfection a.k.a. trivia fact 3 -- because we all know about Dieter and his little emotional support goat, LOL. Excellent connection.

*insert sound bit from Hot Ones interview* : "Just let me love you!"

Anywaaay there's more. The Bubble was shot during Feb 22, 2021 to April 16, 2021, right? Pedro has spoken about how his input in shaping Dieter was mostly regarding his outfits (the Crocs, the robe, etc). But then I suddenly remember the Talk Art interview he had done in 2018, and how he namechecks 'The Dog' by Goya - and lo, guess which painting is actually part of the 14 Black Paintings? Yeap - the dog! So I checked the podcast and he was asked, 'if you could be any painting, what painting would you be?' by Russell. Here is the painting, and below it is what he said on Talk Art:

'The Drowning Dog' by Goya

"I think… it's a Goya. Yeah, old school. I think it's called 'Dog Buried in Sand' or something like that. It's so… I remember feeling it was such a visual representation of helplessness, in such a… come on, let's all admit that helplessness is a very recurring feeling for many of us, you know what I mean? When it comes to so many things. I guess… I was in Spain, in Madrid, and I was 20. And I went to the Goya museum. What's interesting about it is that the head of the dog is really quite small and sort of adorable, it looks like a stray mutt, and the painting - if I can remember it correctly - is very rectangular. There's so much above him, like the world just seems so big. It's quite incredible, isn't it? I know it's really sad, and sort of dark, and maybe I really like enjoy perceiving myself like..." (He gets interrupted by Russell, and then continues;) "Yeah, he's certainly not dying, it's sort of - it's a moment", (then interrupts himself with;) "Maybe he's totally dying, there's no way that dog is getting out of that. That dog is SO fucked. Anyway, that's the painting that represents my life". (All three of them burst out into laughing.)

If you're still reading this - I am impressed with your dedication to my silly little post, haha. Anyway, I just thought it was so striking that there basically is a straight line from the painting he mentioned in Talk Art to what Dieter is painting in the Bubble. Makes me wonder if perhaps he - or even Russell/Robert - had any input in that part of Dieter's backstory.

Thank you for attending my TED Talk on artistic analysis of Dieter Bravo during COVID, we now resume your regularly scheduled program for Saturday night. 🤪

(Have I been smoking because a local dispensary actually had 'Mando' bud? I sure as fuck have and I blame that for this post.)

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purikkura · 9 months

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collision report — s.hanbin

❪ ★彡 SYNOPSIS. ❫ ──── you've witnessed your best friend cause one too many train accidents, but never did you ever expect your heart would be caught in one.

❪ ★彡 PAIRING. ❫ ──── sung hanbin x gn!reader

❪ ★彡 WORD COUNT. ❫ ──── 2019 words

❪ ★彡 GENRE/TROPES. ❫ ──── angst... really bad angst, high school au (was tempted to set it at university, but didn't know how fitting that was <;/3), best friends

❪ ★彡 WARNINGS. ❫ ──── allusions to & mentions of death; reader's hella paranoid and delulu; hanbin's lowkey a red flag, but we choose to look past that

❪ ★彡 NOTES. ❫ ──── first fic... y'all, this took ages. i'm 98% sure there's no way i'll be able to pump out requests at a fast rate as most, but i'll try to get to that point. eventually. this was loosely inspired by doushite mo kimi ga suki da by akb48, hence why i brought up trains so often. get my sisters to 1 million on spotify, they're so close!! alternatively titled as 'heartbreak prince!'

You told him you’d be gone for no more than 5 minutes.

And usually, when you tell Hanbin things, such promises become your top priority—for no reason in particular other than that he was Sung Hanbin. Everyone liked Sung Hanbin, whether they’d admit to it or not.

Perhaps you stood ahead in line than others—reap the benefits of the title as his best friend, why not—but that position was distressing as it was rewarding considering all the train wrecks you had to witness practically firsthand. Cringing upon the first whiff of smoke in the form of heartbreak, you could only feel bad for that week’s victim who had fallen ill to Hanbin’s charms, who shoveled their nerves and confessed to him, sooted hands waiting to be taken by a pair as pure as his.

He never did. He never could; that, you knew very well based on the horrified looks he snuck over to you during the first few incidents. He’s gotten better at it, though—derailing the other person’s high-speed emotions, making it not as messy of a bloody blue ruin. As per every rejection, it ended with you two turning your backs and heading homebound together. Envy wasn’t always a green-eyed monster. It could also take on the form of a devastated high school student, eyes discerning the back of your head (rather than the obvious space between you and your friend) as though you had kicked dirt on them just then. Don’t you know better? The body’s still warm.

Homebound is where you should be right about now, but much to the shock of everyone else, you had a life outside of playing the role of “the one that always stands next to Hanbin; are they his significant other?” and, besides, you were people-pleasing elsewhere. Needing some last-minute material for an upcoming test, your teacher obliged the offer, but that meant taking time out of your day to actually confront them. You thought it would take no more than 5 minutes.

You told Hanbin that at approximately 4:37 PM.

It’s 5:23.

Perhaps on the way, you could sum up a valid excuse as to why you stayed way later than expected. Hanbin knew you were lagging behind in the class; he was the one helping you all this time, and it was more than likely that he was the one who tipped your teacher intel that you needed extra studying material in the first place. He tends to do that often. Care too much. Then again, you always tried to return the favor in other classes, no matter how bad you were, or, at the very least, attempted to buy or share your lunch. You physically had to fight to put a chip in his mouth once, which might or might not have resulted in choking, you profusely apologizing, and him simply smiling as if he didn’t almost befriend death.

It was the small things that made you love him.

Made people love him—you liked him a very normal amount.

. . .

Who are we fooling?

You were absolutely, tremendously, without a doubt, down terribly in the trenches in love with him! And it seemed everyone was well-aware, including your math teacher who not-so-subtly dropped the question only a few minutes ago, “Are you two an item yet?” Only problem was, you couldn’t tell the one person your feelings mattered most to. No, really, how could you? After every crush people have caught? After every crash he caused?

You weren’t willing to ruin what the two of you currently had. A relationship that exceeded mere acquaintances—one you always hesitated asking if it ever meant more to him. You even hesitated to ask someone else if they drew some sort of boundary with their friends when it came to physicality. It wasn’t uncommon for you and Hanbin to randomly entangle together, arms haphazardly overlapping with the other’s, however unintentional it may be. It was comfortable for the two of you, though perhaps not so much for passersby that looked at you with rage. A stark contrast between the way Hanbin looked at you with an unbelievable amount of tenderness.

. . . Regardless.

Hanbin was your best friend.

You couldn’t leave him, and he wouldn’t leave you.

That’s what you thought before making it to the courtyard. No Hanbin in sight.

Huh. That was strange.

The thought of him leaving you…

Your shoes kicked into high gear while the sun trickled to disappear. As if a ghost of one of Hanbin’s victims possessed you, a surge of unbeknownst confidence compelled you to try. Because you were tired of standing at a railroad crossing. Because you were fascinated by train wrecks.

There was no doubt in your mind. You love Sung Hanbin.

Didn’t matter how other people felt or how anyone would look at you. You were practically first on the waiting list anyway; you should feel more than willing to announce your feelings to the world and let the wind carry your words over to him.

Thankfully, Hanbin takes extremely slow strolls, so you managed to catch up to him right when he crossed the railroad crossing. (That’s also strange. You guys rarely take this shortcut.) Unfortunately, you arrived right when the gates fell.

“Hanbin!”

All you could see was him. Him. Him. Him alone. You could already imagine how beautiful he’ll look when he turns around, unable to hear laughter blocked out by what sounded like a siren.

You called his name another time. Possibly another.

Though the last was cut off by the incoming train, bells ringing, severing the red thread that connected you two until parted by death.

You braced for impact, a grimace replacing your previous dazed expression, but all you really felt was the wind pushing you back. You think the universe saved you just now.

Then the ringing stopped. You opened your eyes, expecting him to initially chastise you for being so reckless before teasing you for saying his name like a lovesick fool. But all he did was stare at you. Sure, there resided some specs of endearment in his eyes—that would never change—but the rest of his features reminded you so much of the horror-struck looks he gave you upon every confession. All he did was stare at you.

Meanwhile, all you could do was stare at her.

You’ve seen her before. She’s pretty—long sleek hair adorned by a headband, an accessory Hanbin doted on in the past for a reason beyond your one-sided awareness.

However, it wasn’t the headband that drew your attention or made your eyes bulge out of their sockets. It was the space between them, or lack thereof when you noticed their hands glued together.

You must’ve stared long enough not to notice the gates rose, clashing with your confidence that diminished instantly right to the soles of your shoes.

You only picked your head up when he called your name, as gently as he could.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” he mirrored in the same nervousness.

Glancing between them was a difficult task not to do. “Sorry it took so long, I… had to get some help from my teacher.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he made sure to say that first, sneaking a look to the side. It was still his part, and you knew this script far better than anyone else. “I’m sorry — I forgot to introduce you.”

You didn’t catch her name. That was, without a doubt, the least interesting part of his sentence. Still, the words ‘My girlfriend’ resounded perfectly in your ears.

“Oh.” Congrats, you incorporated your first-ever adlib in your role, but please, follow the script. “Since—since when?”

“Since now, I think,” the girl finally took charge of the lines, attentive to neither yours nor Hanbin’s broken expressions, but she (at the very least) picked up on the awkward situation unfolding. “I guess I asked Hanbin out a few weeks ago? And he said yes, but we didn’t go anywhere from there until today when I… asked him to walk me home.”

“A few weeks ago?” Your breath fell short despite saying only four words.

Hanbin didn’t necessarily have the gall, but to better his conscious, he had to deliver an answer. “It happened in the middle of a convenience store.” Translation: he didn’t think that much of it.

“And you said yes?” Your voice was quiet. For the first time, Hanbin forgot what to say. For the first time, he forgot how to redirect the train. There was only one rail, and it was headed straight for the two of you.

Out of every confession leading up to now, this was by far the worst.

“Yes.”

At some point in time, he lost his girlfriend’s hand, but she delicately laced it back with his as pure reassurance, prompting him to add: “Yeah, I mean, I’ve been crushing on her all year. I figured, why not?”

He’s been crushing on her all year? He’s never mentioned that before, has he? If so, how could you not have possibly known?

“Why not…” Your body’s breaking down, losing function. “Why didn’t…” …you tell your best friend? Why didn’t you tell me you were on the cusp of killing your own best friend? “Why don’t you walk her home this week?”

That definitely wasn’t the response Hanbin was expecting, or wanted. But the director is intrigued, seeking confirmation as to whether their actors know their characters as much as they did, persisting in the change in script.

“What?” Anyone could’ve heard how his voice dejected an octave lower.

“Yeah… yeah, you know,” you trailed in, unsure as to whether you really meant what you were about to say, “I’m staying after to study for the test soon. I wouldn’t want you to walk home alone. Either of you.”

Hanbin convinced himself those last few words were rushed because the ones before were definitely a direct hit on him, and there’s not a second in this situation when he doesn’t regret saying yes to his girlfriend’s homeward request.

“You sure? I wouldn’t want to impose—”

“Are you serious?” He didn’t mean to interrupt his girlfriend as he did, and he especially didn’t want to sound as exasperated as he did. Nothing could stop your eyes from flashing a bit of concern; it was built into your system that Hanbin’s well-being was priority #1. “If you still need help, I could come over.”

Was he upset with you? Anger is common as far as human nature goes, but the genuine kind never rose between you and him. You’ve certainly seen him tense up in situations like confessions or tests even he didn't study for (no thanks to you), but did his shoulders always buckle so tight?

“I think you’ve helped enough.”

There, you’ve done it. Now, there lies two casualties. That red thread of fate did last until the very end.

“B-But I’m here now!” You sounded more enthused than you were. “And I don’t want to hold either of you up, so let’s start walking, yeah?”

You extended your arm, gesturing for them to lead the way. Part of you hoped he’d take your tainted hand instead, but he never did. He never could. His girlfriend had to tug for his body to finally react, and you witnessed his face surf through a plethora of emotions before settling on a forced cordial smile—one he used after every killing.

This moment felt all too familiar. Déjà vu all over again, only you felt out of place. This was a change in scenery. Rather than spotting the sunset, you watched as the couple turned their backs, your eyes boring into the back of an innocent’s head, who walked in the position you once had.

You were prepared to play the kicked puppy, a gate of tears ready for their cue. But you couldn’t, not when the boy who did away with your innocence walks already guilted with so many bodies, some that hadn’t even gone cold.

So, you never did.

You told him you needed all but 5 minutes. If it had been 5 minutes, would your life have been spared?

#zerobaseone #zb1 x reader #zb1 x gender neutral reader #sung hanbin #sung hanbin x reader #sung hanbin x gender neutral reader #zb1 imagines #zb1 scenarios

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sincerely-sofie · 2 months

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Gonna need to make an official poll for this at some point… HOWEVER:

What kind of content would you like to see from me after TPiaG is finished uploading?

I’ve got a lot of storylines I could pursue that are TPiaG-adjacent (like my 5,000 branching AUs), or I could try and continue the fic chronologically somehow. Alternatively, I could start a new fic with some original PMD characters of mine— or even try branching out into some more fandoms or posting my original work!

Here’s a list of some of my stuff I’ve posted about previously to provide some ideas, but don’t feel bound to discussing them alone:

Mortality Exchange AU: A TPiaG alternate storyline where Twig manages to kill Darkrai during the Dark Crater fight and becomes his replacement as the Legend of Nightmares.

Dugtrio Day AU: A PMD2 AU about a new Hero and Partner that revolves around a time loop, how it affects the Hero, and how she breaks out of it and deals with the aftermath.

Legends Lost: An original storyline set in the same universe as TPiaG, but starring an almost entirely original cast and plot.

Peepaw + Isekai’d Cat: A duo of PMD OCs— Necrozma and the once-human litten who helps him recover his true form by giving him hope— and their daily lives.

Paradox Fam: A group of PMD OCs starring a human-turned-flutter mane and said human’s adopted mother and father, a slither wing and iron moth, who hate each other’s guts.

Team Crypt: An exploration team of PMD OCs who solve mysteries in a manner that rivals the shenanigans of Scooby Doo and the Mystery Gang.

The Creeping Chronicles (at end of post): A fantasy story about bug people with trauma which has evolved rapidly and dramatically from when I impulsively uploaded a prologue in comic form.

Room 214: A stand-alone short comic about a reluctant exorcist and a friendly ghost that I think could be expanded upon into a broader storyline.

The Name-Oath: A two-part original story about a mortal woman who divorces a fairy prince after an ugly falling-out, and his desperate efforts to get back together.

THIMBLEQUEST: An original video game concept about a tiny moth knight who’s on a quest to find the seven holy thimbles and save the land from an ancient threat.

Unnamed Pokémon Gym Story: A mainline Pokémon OC that is a weather-enthusiast pokemon trainer and her golisopod who keeps bringing home injured bug-types.

Homebound: An Among Us fanfic featuring interspecies adoption, unlikely friendships, tragic backstories, and angst. A lot of angst.

Massive Art OC Dump: (This links to a summary of a lot of original projects with art associated with them.)

If you’ve got some time to share your thoughts or any ideas, please let me know!

Nothing is certain at this point, but I thought I’d start asking for opinions early!

#stuff by sofie #pmd2 #pmd eos #pmd #pmd explorers #pmd sky #pokémon mystery dungeon #pokemon mystery dungeon #pmd ocs #pmd oc #pokemon oc

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thesungod · 1 year

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https://www.tumblr.com/thesungod/716135176237957120/httpswwwtumblrcomthesungod716124275151667200?source=share

WOW thank you so much!! No you didn't overwhelm me don't worry 😭 or if you did, not in a negative way at all. Thank you for reccing so many good fics, I've started one already and I love it so far

And yes I would love jasico fics! (As long as it's no trouble 😭)

sorry this is late anon! i’m sure you’ve blocked all my solangelo book tags, but let’s just say it’s been a hectic couple of days😭

let’s talk about jasicosss:

you kinda need to read Homebound. It’s 800k and pretty much considered the Jasico Bible and Canon-after-BoO by shippers. It’s the sloweeeeest burn, post-canon, them becoming best friends and falling in love through 90 chapters.

if the length scares you, i have some other stuff!!

Operation Blue Bananas by amperstellar is one of my favourites EVER. It’s about Jason having the biggest crush on Nico post-BoO (so it’s about canon lol) and asking Percy to help him win Nico over. They concoct very stupid plans. It’s hilarious and lighthearted and love exists.

No More Heroes by nikkiRA is the first Jasico fic I’ve ever read and it still holds up as one of my faves. Years after BoO, Nico starts crashing on Jason’s couch anytime he doesn’t know where to go or he’s injured. You can guess what happens next. Beautiful, sweet, love exists. Also by nikkiRA, Wingman. It’s about Jason trying to set up dates for Nico but then getting too jealous and messing them up💀

Years we lost by MermaidMarie is a super underrated one. It’s actually set years post ToA. Nico finds Jason in a cafè and he remembers nothing of his previous life, but Nico simply can’t lose him again so he helps him remember. The journey is so so so painful, but so rewarding. This fic changed my life.

North by aelescribe is about them falling in Tartarus together. Yesssss.

The Emotion and The Response and its little sequel by Betsib are lovely!! Another post-BoO get together fic. A lot of other stuff by Betsib too!! For instance, Black Coffee and Dead People is an amazing AU. Jason is investigating a serial killer and Nico is the coroner. So good. But there are others!!

(i love it when we’re) cruising together by ohmygodwhy is about them doing a road trip post-BoO so that Nico can visit Venice without the threat of imminent death again. They fall in love in the process. Lol. It’s fucking fantastic. Also, read anything Jasico by ohmygodwhy.

it was you who held me under by thelittleone. oh shit. oh shit. basically it’s a mortal AU where Jason and Nico were together, broke up, and meet again a couple of years later. so so so so good.

These are the ones I remember now. I hope you like them anon, enjoy ❤️❤️

#jasico #fic recs #ask

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maryn-jpeg55 · 2 years

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Inspired by the fic Homebound by polite_smile on AO3- it’s unfinished but it’s so sweet. Shoutout to me breaking my heart with unfinished fics over and over

#anime #mob psycho #mob psycho 100 #serirei #reigen arataka #reigen #serizawa #serizawa katsuya

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phantom-clock · 2 months

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do you have any jjba fic recs? :]

oh, i have been waiting for this question. I have so many recs.

·Starting off with: STARDUST CRUSADERS (mainly Jotakak, sorry lmao)

"You'll see what you want to see" by CassTheCringe on AO3 - I love love love this one! It's essentially just a really in character interaction between the team, very short and fun. I have to add though, there is quite a bit of foreshadowing for their inevitable fates which is gut wrenching. 4k words.

"He's bad news but i'm no better" by on AO3 - This. this right here. This is somehow PEAK jotakak despite being a gen fic, not intended to be slash. It's insane. This is an AU fic in which kakyoin arrives at the prison to kill jotaro before he has a chance to meet joseph and avdol. After various events, they proceed to leave to egypt together, kakyoin still sporting his fleshbud, and jotaro STILL convinced his stand is an evil spirit. It's great. 80.6k words. Jotakak? arguably? technically platonic?

"In the wrath of dawn" a collection by minamimaru on AO3 - Not sure how to describe this one, but it's a three parter in which kakyoin deals with having been conditioned to fear sunlight by Dio when he lived within his mansion. Interesting idea, good execution. Total word count of 9.3k. Jotakak.

"stand by me" a collection by SourisWriter on AO3 - This one is fluff! It handles stand sentience, which is a concept i adore. In the words of the author: "Stand By Me is series exploring how Star Platinum's and Hierophant Green's unique actions intersect with the steadily evolving relationship between Jotaro and Kakyoin." Total word count of 12k. Jotakak.

"Creep" by Rigmaroler on AO3 - A fun and short oneshot partially told from the perspective of jotaro and kakyoin's classmates after they return from Cairo. Just them being inexplicably odd. 3k words. Jotakak.

"Facets" by Cosmic_dandelion on AO3 - Probably one of my favorite explorations of jotaro and kakyoin's relationship. A 5+1 fic in which jotaro tries to learn more about kakyoin after the yellow temperance fight. I also really like this author's take on kakyoin! 20k words. Jotakak. Background Avpol.

"It'll have to do" by CassTheCringe on AO3 - Kakyoin's scarf rips and he's bitchy about it. While still being in character. It's impressive on the writer's part. Jotaro mends it during the night. this CAN be read as either slash or gen, but i'll be tagging the ship anyway. 4k words. Jotakak.

·Now: DIAMOND IS UNBREAKABLE (there are definitely not as many fics here as i'd like there to be, especially not about the main gang, but i haven't been able to find much yet. might add to this later.)

"Walk with me/Try again" by CasstheCringe on AO3 - Warning for heavy themes. Read the tags. This one is genuinely incredible, this is a genuine hard recommend from me, it is so good. The summary, in the author's own words: "Part 4 AU where Kakyoin is alive but at a cost. As he figures out how to pay that cost, he tries to help wrangle the Morioh kids while also trying not to strangle Jotaro (it'd be nice if they could also learn how to communicate again too, but Kakyoin attempts to be realistic)." Jotaro and Kakyoin are NOT on good term in this one. 218k words. Pre jotakak.

"Caught somewhere in time" by ilikedolphins (nuinsli) on AO3 - Time loop fic centered around Jotaro. It's interesting. 14.5k words.

"Homebound" by Crowned_Ladybug on AO3 - This is very much found family, in which okuyas believes he has no family, until he finds out he does. Also, trans Okuyasu which is neat. Mainly just a character study, but i like it a lot. 3k words. Josuyasu. background jotakak. (in the author's own words, they refuse to write part 4 without kakyoin lmao)

"The Best-laid Plans" by deuil on AO3 - An insanely fun oneshot in which josuke really wants to see what jotaro's hiding under his hat. 4k words.

·Next up: GOLDEN WIND/VENTO AUREO

"Call it selfishness, call it fate" by BlueWonder on AO3 - Starting off incredibly strong with what may be genuinely my favorite fic for all of part 5. Warnings for heavy angst! read the tags! This is a time loop fic, my favorite trope, in which GER gives Giorno a second, third, fourth... chance to save his friends. It's great. Hard recommend. 24k words.

"Passione speedrun any percent (world record)" by nihilego on AO3 - I know you've already read this, but it's so good i wanted to leave this here for anyone who stumbles upon this list lmao. Essentially, a retelling of golden wind except giorno is the only one in the bucci gang with a stand. It's great. 17.8k words. Fugio. Bruabba.

"To love someone is firstly to confess: I am prepared to be devastated by you." a collection by heartstone on AO3 - In which Giorno is taken in by his savior as a child. 10.8k words.

"Riempire il vuoto" by ThisLittleViolet on AO3 - Probably my favorite Dhampir Giorno fic on ao3. Narancia is hit by an enemy stand that can starve someone to death in hours, the catch? this stand can be passed on to someone else if the one affected consents to it. Giorno is hesitant to take it. I think you can see where this goes. (also, interesting tidbit, the story occurs from Fugo's POV, which is fun). 13k words.

"Baby i'm a star" by DairyFarmer on AO3 - Okay. Gonna get this out of the way first. This does has a little bit of giomis. Which i'm personally not a fan of. But the rest of the fic is so good that i'll let it slide. This one is told from Bruno's point of view. Basically, giorno used GER to go back to where it all began and change things himself. Meanwhile, Bruno, as an outsider, is just ??? at the new boss that seems to favor so much for no apparent reason. 9.4k words. Giomis. (regrettably)

"Unbiased opinion/a boss who cares" by Melon_noodle_boi on AO3 - a fun fic in which, during an inspection on a passione team, giorno gets mistaken as a new recruit. He takes advantage of this to get n honest reading on how they work. It's fun. Great use of OCs . 19k words. Maybe giomis, not really, can be read as platonic thankfully.

"Blood is thicker" by JustAnotherFool on AO3 - Your basic dhampir Giorno reveal fic, still really good though. 9.5k words.

"Boys will be bugs" by sunflowergiorno on AO3 - "5 times Giorno Giovanna talks about bugs with the other members of Bucci's gang, and the ways he teaches his teammates to appreciate them--and is appreciated himself." This is a relationship study, and i really enjoyed it! 10k words.

"Weep, and you weep alone" by bagelistyping on AO3 - In which Giorno gets affected by a stand that causes time to stretch out and feel impossibly slow when the affected party is alone. Whump. 4.4k words.

"In the blood" by RainHarmonia on AO3 - Giorno thought he was just sick, turns out he's a dhampir. 3.8k words.

"Where is my mind?" by Balimaria on AO3 - Giorno is affected by a stand that brings out the deppest, most animalistic parts in people. Which kind of sucks when your dad was a vampire. 6.6k words.

·Finally: MISCELLANEOUS FICS THAT I DIDN'T HAVE ENOUGH OF FOR THEIR OWN SECTION

"Cards of fate" by RedThistle on AO3 - alright, i'm going to need you to trust me on this one. It's a JJBA x MCU crossover. It's a fun and simple 5+1 fic in which various mcu characters meet jjba characters and are just ??? about stands. It's great. Trust me. 6.9k words. Subtle josuyasu.

"Jojo's Bizarre engagement" by Mikomikono on AO3 - Your typical fake relationship fic, but make it caejose! The writing is fun, and the author definitely has the characters down. I still haven't finished this one, but it's great so far! 125k words. Caejose. Obviously.

#the way you can tell exactly what tropes are my favorites lmao #theres definitely more i'd add (like part 6 fics #but i still havent finished part 6) but #this already took so long hghg #might add to it later #jjba #fic recs #jjba fic recs #actual posts lol this is not a drill i swear #golden wind #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #jotakak

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nahasketches · 6 months

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HELP MELIN FIC LOST, HAVE YOU SEEN IT ?

Im starting this posts because sometimes I want to read a fic that I remember very little of it and didn’t bookmark it, so if you think you know the name of the fic pleaseeeeeee telll me and share this to find it.

First

I It is post canon, everything is beautiful, the golden age arrived but Merlin lost his place in that world, Arthur thought he was taking away tasks from his friend, he hires another servant and makes Merlin stop going hunting, Gaius hires another assistant and I think there is already someone who is protecting the kingdom, if I'm not wrong, I think it's Morgana or maybe it's because everything is very calm and Merlin's protection is no longer needed, plus the knights are patrolling away, so no one notices Merlin's presence.

So he goes home and starts telling the children about his adventures. I think some time passes and Arthur arrives from a patrol or something like that and they notice Merlin's absence and goes to look for him.

Maybe it’s with the tag of #hurt Merlin

Second

I think Arthur is having nightmares or something like that and Merlin for helping him creates a connection that makes Merlin live Arthur's erotic dreams whether Arthur is dreaming asleep or awake.

I specifically remember

1. that Arthur made Merlin think that the only reason why he is the protagonist of his erotic dreams is because of the spell.

2. a scene where they are at a meeting and Arthur begins to dream that Merlin is doing him in that same place, completely naked, while in real life Arthur does not notice that he is dreaming that and Merlin is having a lot of trouble containing himself.

3. After that scene Arthur goes to his room and dreams that Merlin uses his magic to subdue him and Merlin tries to get to his room without coming

Third

I think this is a fic that redeems Morgana, because it talks about an old lady who is selling love tokens in the square.

if I'm not wrong Arthur buys almost all the tokens for Merlin and Merlin only manages to buy a frog plushy for Arthur, none of them knew that the other one bought him something.

Percibal bought Gwaine underwear that I think says love and I also remember Gwen/Leon, specifically because there is a moment where they go to the tavern and find those two couples there, and then they discover that morgana is the old lady selling the tokens.

Please if you remember this fics comments, or if you want me to search fics for you you can tell me

Also use the #lost Merlin fics

_____________\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\\__________________\\\\

FOUND THE FICS

Wow i knew this fandom was fast but not that fast 🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡🫡

Thank you so much, I really wanted to read this fics for a long time 😍😍😍😍😍

Thanks to @hoarder-of-dragons @hey-its-asp for helping me find this fics, you are literally in my heart

First fic

Second

Third

I'll still post about lost fics and will search for fics if you want

#merlin #merthur #merlin bbc #bbc merlin #bbc merthur #arthur pendragon #merlin fanart #merlin emrys #fanart #my art #merlin fics #merthur fics #lost Merlin fics #lost merthur fics #help me find a fic

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crippleprophet · 7 months

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from the fic writer who brought you “every sex scene i write is gonna be t4t until i stop caring whether cis men are attracted to me” (2018-2021) begins a new journey of self-acceptance & rejecting societal norms. “in every fic with 3 or more characters, one of them will be homebound”: coming soon to an ao3 account near you !

#i am happy to consider prompts if anyone has some they’d particularly like to read 💖#mac.txt #homebound #life is in your house too

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maccreadysbaby · 1 month

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A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: death and gore

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

here’s bentley and his friends going through it™︎

part thirty-one

❝ HOMEBOUND ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 17 — 10:42PM

BENTLEY, ASTEN, NICO, AND DAVIS DIDN’T MOVE AN INCH. Instead, they all stared at the bodies of the guards that had just choked to death on nothing.

Nico’s glowing white eyes faded back to their normal blue, rolled back into his head, and he fell over without a warning. Thankfully, Asten was quick and close enough to keep his head from hitting the white tile of Dr. Keene’s screwed-up child experimenting facility.

Bentley blinked, taking several moments to look back and forth between the pile of dead guards in the doorway of the sterile white room, and Nico. Had he just… killed them all? With superpowers?

He turned back to Nico and Asten — the latter now had the former’s head on his lap, and he was staring at him, stunned. So many people were… dying. Bentley had to have seen at least twenty people die right before his eyes in the past, what? Thirty minutes? And each one at the hands of people he knew as friends. The thought made him kind of dizzy. He’d seen so many people die.

He flinched when Davis’s metal glove landed on his left shoulder, and when he met his eyes, the green orbs were dancing worriedly across his face and bloody frame. Bentley looked away and sniffled quietly. “You think you can walk so I can carry your friend?”

Honestly, Bentley was running on nothing more than fumes and fear, and had been for at least a solid few days. The added pain and terror from the gunshot was almost inconceivable, blending into one big blur of full-body agony that he couldn’t stop crying over. Even though Davis said the shot wasn’t that bad (he knew it would be a very different situation if he had been shot in the chest or head), keeping himself from falling over seemed to be the most laborious task he’d carried out in a long time.

But… Nico was passed out, and Bentley wasn’t yet. He wasn’t sure how many steps he’d get in — but if worse came to worse, he was probably small enough that Asten could get by with dragging him or something. So, as much as he wanted Davis to keep carrying him around, to hide his face from the world and pretend he was in Bruce’s arms, he wiped at his furiously leaking eyes and nodded for him to carry Nico instead.

With that, Davis moved across the room to pick him up, which he did while enduring the longest death glare Bentley had ever seen Asten throw in someone’s direction. He didn’t argue, though — much to their surprise. He just stood up once Nico was securely in Davis’s arms, eyes flicking over to Bentley, around the sterile white room. He also sent a glare to the Synchronizer that surely would’ve made it wither had it been anything but metal and machinery.

“We have to get to Titus. He’s on the other end of the facility,” Davis said, shifting Nico around until his head was securely against his shoulder. He was holding him bridal style like he’d been carrying Bentley, and Nico looked really small in his arms.

Asten breathed in, brushing a hand over his blue and black hair. He was still standing ahead of the Synchronizer where Nico had hugged the life out of him. “Titus. The one who can teleport?”

“Yeah. He can get you guys out of here, if we can get to him. If. I’m not sure how far we’ll make it with no self defense. I would offer up my hands, but they’re kinda full,” Davis glanced down at Nico momentarily, something like the vaguest hint of nostalgia or deja vu swirling in his green irises. “We-“

“I can help with that,”

Bentley, Asten, and Davis all flinched in tandem when a fourth voice came — a disembodied female voice that had no obvious user. The voice had come from near the back wall, across from the door, but… there wasn’t anybody there.

Bentley wasn’t, like, losing his mind, was he? The thought made more silent tears slide down his face. He’d lost so much blood he was losing his mind.

“Who’s there?” Davis questioned, taking a few steps past Bentley in the direction of the mysterious voice. Asten moved toward them, ever so slowly inching away from the Synchronizer and ending up at Bentley’s left side.

Suddenly, eliciting a flinch from Asten and a gasp from both Bentley and Davis, the redhead girl that they’d ejected from a Synchronizer on their search for Asten and Nico appeared out of thin air. She was standing against the back wall of the room in a hospital gown that mirrored theirs, picking at her nails. Her light blue eyes seemed to be an odd mixture of color that made them look silver, and her red hair was long and wavy down her back. Her face had much more color than it had earlier.

Davis glowered dangerously at her, tugging Nico closer to himself. “Who are you?”

She stepped forward, a ghost of a smile growing on her petite face. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt your little sheep. I’ve been following you since you let me out of the machine, which I’m here to repay you for. That is, if you can get your teleporty friend to get me out of here, too.”

“How are you going to help us?” Davis questioned, his voice layered thick with uncertainty and doubt. The girl smirked — smirked.

“I might be straight out of the mad scientist’s oven, but I have a pretty good handle on this whole superpower thing,” She explained, glancing down at her own blank nails, strangely nonchalant now — way calmer than she was earlier. “The names Lydia. Lydia Venice. And with me at your disposal, you’ll be able to walk your happy selves straight to the other side of the compound without a hitch.”

Her freakishly calm demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Bentley. Either she was adapting extremely well to being kidnapped and experimented on, or…

“And how am I supposed to know if you’re being mind controlled?” Davis questioned, mirroring exactly what Bentley had been thinking. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. What if she was just going to take them back to Dr. Keene? Put them back in the machines to finish the process?

“I guess you don’t… but I feel like myself right now. Making my own choices and all that,”

Bentley would’ve been intrigued in the conversation, had the blood loss been taking less of a toll on him than it actually was. The floating feeling was now putting a fog over everything in his mind, and he was really cold. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and it seemed to be going way too fast even though he was literally just standing there.

That’s about when his legs decided to give out beneath him.

Thankfully, a pair of arms looped around his middle in a rather un-graceful way, catching him in a position that made his shoulder momentarily set itself ablaze with agony. He let out a cry. Why? The pain? The trauma that was being burned into his head for the rest of his life? He wasn’t sure. But he was pretty sure it was enough to cry about.

“Whoa, whoa. I’ve got you, red,” Whispered probably the most comforting voice in the room.

Voices were running in the background, Davis and Lydia, but the Bentley was too focused on the fact that Asten had wasted no time pulling him gently back onto his feet. He slung Bentley’s arm around his shoulders, looping his own arm around his torso so he could hold him up. Nearly all of his (minimal) weight was leaning into Asten’s right side, which might’ve felt bad about if his mind wasn’t floating like he was fresh off of anesthesia. He noted the fact that he kind of felt like he wanted to hurl. He also noted the fact that everyone was suddenly looking at him.

Davis stared at him for a solid ten seconds, before he huffed and looked back at Lydia with a tense: “Fine. How are you going to help us?”

She smiled. “Observe.”

She walked over to the Synchronizer in the room, and with the cock of an eyebrow, put her hand on it. She disappeared. The entire Synchronizer disappeared with her.

“Whatever I touch turns invisible, too. If you hold onto me, no one will see us,” Her voice came from the nothingness in front of them.

“Alright…” Davis sighed to himself, blinking a few times to right his mind. “But if you try anything-“

“You’ll kill me?” The girl reappeared and cracked a strangely genuine looking grin, cocking a hip to the side. “I’ve seen quite the spread of bodies you’ve left in your wake, Reaper. This time and last.”

Davis scowled, a far-off look growing in his eyes momentarily. Bentley remembered hearing about the last time Davis had killed a bunch of people — if his brain wasn’t so foggy he might’ve even remembered what Dr. Keene said the reason was. But he couldn’t. He felt like he was drifting away into darkness. Like the agony was fading and so was he. Even the crying he’d assumed would be endless was tapering away due to the haze he couldn’t get out of.

“Asten,” He whispered, breathing deep despite being relatively still. The Brazilian immediately whipped his head around, his hold on him tightening the slightest.

“What is it?”

Bentley sniffled, batting away the wetness in his eyes to no avail. “I don’t feel good,” He muttered, but he couldn’t bring his gaze up to look his friend in the eyes. How was Asten so warm and everything else was so cold? Bentley was freezing.

The blue haired boy grimaced, glancing back up at Davis and Lydia. “As much as I love spitting empty threats at people, you seem to have forgotten that ginger over here is literally bleeding out. Let’s get this trainwreck on the road, yeah?”

Davis and Lydia’s eyes flicked between each other, Bentley, and Asten, before the former nodded. “It’s now or never.”

Lydia walked toward the door, grabbing onto Davis and Asten’s hospital gowns as she went, tugging them along. Bentley and Nico didn’t have much of a choice but to join them. “You’ll still see yourselves and each other, but no one else will. They can hear and feel us, though, so don’t be idiots.”

Bentley walked along, and he was thankful for Asten baring most of his weight — the strangely dull agony of the gunshot was sending waves of pain pulsing through his muscles, and it made his legs not want to work. It made nothing want to work, really — not even his brain, which was still getting fuzzier.

They left the Synchronizing room and moved into the long, sterile, white hallways, Lydia’s hand staying on the others’ gowns all the way. For now, the corridors were empty, but they branched off into other halls and areas not too far ahead of them, and Bentley wasn’t sure those would be so vacant. Red alarm lights were flashing in the halls, but there were no alarms.

“Titus is in the medical sector,” Davis nodded to the left, down the long hall. Thankfully, they weren’t facing all the dead people left in Davis’s wake. Bentley wasn’t sure he could stomach staring at them all again, black growing and writhing under their skin like a parasite.

Lydia nodded. “Don’t pull away from me, and keep your mouths shut,” She ordered.

Bentley had no problem with that. The rag-tag group of five, one shot, one unconscious, all supposedly invisible, wearing matching hospital gowns made down the white hallways with Lydia at the lead. Bentley was hardly able to focus on anything except keeping his own two feet under him as Asten walked. Why was it so hard to move his feet the right way?

At one point, a group of guards with guns walked right past them without batting an eye, which meant they really were invisible. And Bentley had never been more grateful in his life.

For a long time, all Bentley saw was bright white and flashing red moving around him. The occasional guard or few passed every now and then, paying them no mind at all. Lydia’s plan was going, dare he say, good. Maybe he would actually make it home.

They were just about to pass a group of six, solid white, armored and gunned guards when Nico decided to wake up.

Screaming.

“No! No, I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!”

Bentley was shocked back into reality at the noise, and everyone began to move. The guards whipped out their weapons, Nico flailed in Davis’s arms, Lydia whipped around to see what was going on and Asten flinched so violently he nearly dropped Bentley on his face.

“Hey, hey, shh, shh, shh,” Davis tried to hush Nico. He was squirming to the point where Davis had to set him down in favor of not dropping him, his eyes wide and brimming with tears, and the guards were aiming their guns around the hallway in a blind panic. Lydia hadn’t let go of them, and the men in white looked confused, which was a good thing, Bentley thought.

…Until it wasn’t.

Until they began to pull the trigger of their guns blindly, one shot after another, each one aiming in the group’s general direction. There were probably ten or twelve gunshots that erupted from the group, at least two of which were aimed pretty darn close to Bentley and Asten. Lydia let go of everyone in a panic, making them visible to the world.

Bentley was overtake by dread at the realization that he was really dead now. And so was everybody else.

There was a flash of yellow lightning.

Everyone stood, frozen, unmoving, unblinking. The guards didn’t move. None of Bentley’s group moved. Not a single one of the five captives hit the floor, screamed, or started bleeding like he’d anticipated. Bentley looked down at himself and Asten, examining for blood or gunshots hidden by adrenaline, but there was nothing. At least a couple of those guns had been aimed freakishly close to them.

Nico was now standing directly in front of Bentley and Asten, his chest heaving and eyes sparking with an ever present yellow electricity. His right hand was balled into a fist.

When opened it, all of the bullets that had just been shot fell through his fingers and dinged on the tile.

Suddenly, it all seemed to make sense in Bentley’s only half-working mind. Nico’s hands moving so fast he couldn’t see them, the yellow lightning, the letter from his real parents talking about the Speed Force — Nico had super-speed. Super-speed that was so fast he’d just caught a dozen bulletsthat had been shot not ten feet away from them.

The guards were stunned, and Davis used the moment of confusion to his advantage, flicking a glove off with one resounding click.

Bentley jumped when more gunshots rang out — directed right at Davis. There was another flash of yellow lightning and Nico was in front of the men with the guns. He dropped another handful of bullets on the floor.

Bentley made sure to look away when Davis used his hands to kill the guards — just like he’d told him — but Asten watched in some mixture of horror and intrigue. Bentley saw Davis move in his peripheral, heard the dull thuds of the guards against the tile.

Nico stumbled back away from Davis, knocking into Asten, who almost dropped Bentley again.

“Dude, that was awesome! You’re like the freaking flash!” He heard Asten mutter, like he wasn’t literally shot at twenty seconds ago.

Suddenly and silently, Lydia hit the floor in front of the three of them.

They all flinched and peered down at her — she had small streams of blood dripping from her nose, her eyes, her ears. She was staring at them… but wasn’t really looking.

Bentley inhaled sharply when he realized that she wasn’t looking at all. That her chest wasn’t rising or falling, that she was laying eerily still. In his peripheral, he could see someone standing a ways off in the hallway. Someone with platinum hair and glowing yellow eyes, a twisted stitched smile that would forever be engraved in his mind.

Nico let out a strangled whine at the sight of Lydia’s body, and then promptly threw up in the floor. Asten had a grip on his shoulder with the arm that wasn’t around Bentley.

Davis was suddenly in front of them, obstructing their view of the Secret Keeper. He thrusted the keycard he’d been carrying around toward Asten. “You’re almost there! You just go to the next hall and turn left — you’ll be looking right inside his cell. That should open it. Go!”

Bentley’s heart was hammering in his ears, threatening to split his ribs clean open. Nico looked so pale he might pass out, he was crying again, arms wrapped around himself and looking really tiny. Asten took the hand off of his shoulder to grab the keycard.

Davis un-latched his other glove, but didn’t let it hit the floor yet. He pointed down the hallway when not one of them responded, glancing behind them. “Go!”

“What about you?” Bentley croaked, the sting of tears behind his eyes starting up again. He didn’t have much of a response when Asten rubbed his back. He wasn’t sure he could take any of the self sacrificial bullcrap — he wanted to survive and he wanted Asten to survive and Nico to survive and Davis to survive. Davis had to survive. He’d saved Bentley so many times and death was how he’d repay him?

“What’re you gonna do?” Bentley choked.

Davis turned, moving just enough so Bentley could see the silhouette of the Secret Keeper standing eerily still at the other end of the hall. Then the waiter smiled fondly, green eyes sparkling a little even despite the circumstances. “I’m going to try and have a conversation with my girlfriend.”

Bentley blinked. They all blinked, and he looked at Asten, who look at him, and then at Nico, who looked at them.

“Charlie?” Asten muttered, eyes falling to the tile. “My God, you must’ve thought she was… for two years…“

“You guys need to get out of here. Get to safety,” Davis replied, agilely avoiding Asten’s statement. “Remember, the first hall that branches left, Titus will be straight ahead.”

Bentley pulled himself out of Asten’s hold and managed to stumble forward just far enough to wrap his arms around Davis’s torso with a poorly stifled round of crying. “Please don’t die.”

Davis patted the top of his head with his still-gloved hand. “You heard it yourself, kid — I am death. Now go.”

Bentley was gently pulled away by Asten’s hand, and despite everything that was screaming for him to stop, they ran. (Well, as much as Bentley could. He was more or less being dragged around by Asten, who had resumed their previous position.) They booked it down the sterile halls and turned down the first one to the left. This one was different — lined with large viewing windows that were accompanied by metal doors. At the end of the hall was a window and door, larger than the others. There weren’t any guards or scientists around. Not that they could see, anyway.

The three of them slowed to a walk, peering into the windows as they passed. Most of the rooms were empty, filled with cabinets of medical supplies and gurneys, but every now and then the gurney would have a human shaped bag that Bentley refused to look at any longer than he had to. Each room had a little plaque on the front, but none of them had any words on them.

Not that he would be able to read them anyways. His crying had ramped back up to a ten at the very prospect of Davis going head-to-head with the Secret Keeper. He wasn’t… he couldn’t… Davis… he had to touch to kill. As far as Bentley knew, the Secret Keeper — Charlie — didn’t even have to seeher victim to kill them. It was a battle that was already lost, and Bentley already knew the winner.

He could barely breathe.

Asten dragged the heap of crying disaster until they made it to the dead-end, to the largest room. Bentley managed to see that, through his tears, the plaque on that door read: Titus Lancaster.

But the room was empty.

Asten stepped right up to the widow, so close that it fogged up the glass under his breath. “Merda.”

Any shred of hope Bentley had dissipated at the sight of the empty cell. Dr. Keene said on video that had to make it especially so Titus couldn’t teleport out — why would they take him somewhere else? It wasn’t time for his mind control surgery yet, unless Bentley had been in the Synchronizer for a longtime.

They were all going to die.

Nico anxiously ran his hands over his hair, a few quiet sobs wracking his whole body. “This is hopeless!”

Bentley hiccuped, trying his best to choke back the endless crying, trudging through the fog in his brain to try and remember anything else that might help them. Nico plunked himself down against the wall and cried unabashedly, just like he had at the bus stop. Asten stared into the room like, if he looked hard enough, Titus would materialize there.

Even through the crying and agony looming over his head, Bentley managed to remember Dr. Keene talking about when Titus got sick. He remembered seeing him in the hospital bed on the video, and he remembered the second video, where he made him perform his abilities so Bentley’s father could see. And at the end of the video, he said…

Bless him; he prefers to stay in the rafters of his enclosure like some kind of bird at the zoo.

Bentley suddenly leaned forward, peering through the glass up at the ceiling. There were metal beams that spanned the length of the room, and there was a dark blob resting on one. “Titus,” Bentley said, pointing toward the ceiling.

Asten followed his finger with his gaze, and Nico threw himself off of the floor, both peering through the glass. They seemed to visibly relax when their eyes landed on the blob.

“Good eye, red,”

If Bentley were more lucid, he might’ve replied.

Just like all the other doors, there was a blue light next to the entrance to Titus’s cell — the one Davis had always tapped the keycard on. Below that light was a little screen, no bigger than Bentley’s hand, that read: EM Field Activated.

He and Asten shuffled toward the door, and the latter tapped the keycard on the light just like Davis had. After a moment, it turned green, and the words displayed on the screen changed — EM Field Deactivated.

The door slid open.

None of them moved for a moment, peering around, checking if there was a chance anyone had seen that. Through his own tears and now-slightly-blurry vision, Bentley couldn’t see much of anything except white.

Asten cleared his throat. “Titus?”

Quickly, the blob in the rafters shifted around, presumably to get a good look at them.

“A guy named Davis sent us. He… said you can teleport us out of here,”

In a whoosh of wind and color, Titus appeared in front of them. He looked worse than he had in the video — he was twelve, Bentley remembered, but looked like he didn’t even weigh sixty pounds soaking wet. The hospital gown swallowed him. He was only a little taller than Bentley, Nico’s height, but really frail looking. His skin was pale as a sheet of paper, and his deep gray eyes were sunken into his face, his nearly-black hair frizzed up in all directions.

Bentley wasn’t sure which of them was worse off.

Titus’s eyes flicked around warily, from Asten’s calculating stare, to Nico’s sobbing form, to Bentley’s half-red hospital gown. Then he looked at the door behind them, taking a few steps to comprehend if it was actually open or not. He seemed almost… afraid of it. Like he’d been tricked before, or something.

“Yeah, hey, we kinda need a fast exit here,” Asten said, glancing between Nico and Bentley, then looking back at Titus. “Will you help us? You’ll be able to escape, too.”

Titus’s deep gray eyes flicked between the three of them. “Don’t lie.”

“Wha- I’m not lying! We were kidnapped and put in a freaking oven and my friend got shot and we need to go!” Asten replied. Titus flinched backwards at the smallest raise of Asten’s voice, which Bentley didn’t much like.

Asten noticed and took a breath. “Please, Titus. We won’t hurt you. We need your help.”

“You’re just another test,” Titus muttered, backing up until he came in contact with the wall, sliding down until he could curl up on the floor and lacing his hands in his hair. “I’m not gonna try and escape, you can stop making me see things now.”

It made Bentley kind of sad how absolutely… broken Titus seemed. Like a kid that had been stripped of his entire personality and left with nothing but dread. What did he mean by seeing things? Had Dr. Keene been training him into submission like some kind of dog?

“Titus, hey,” Asten tried, looking to Nico for help. “We aren’t a test, we aren’t. You see the alarm lights in the hallway? We need your help getting out of here before guards come.”

Titus looked back up at them warily, his gray eyes watering. “Please go away.”

Gunshots came, making all four boys jump violently in their spots. There were no guards in their hallway yet, but Bentley could only assume the worst — that those had been aimed at Davis.

“Please!” Asten begged, looking out the window into the halls. “Please, please, please. Nothing bads going to happen, I promise. Just… please. We need out of here. Bentley needs a hospital.”

Panic shot through him like an arrow at those words, and he exclaimed: “No! Not a hospital — Wayne Manor.”

Asten didn’t seem to find it in him to correct him.

“Please, you’re the only one here who can save us. Our friend Davis — you know Davis? — he’s fighting the Secret Keeper right now and-“ Asten breathed in, glancing into the hall anxiously. Bentley was getting so floaty it got kind of hard to tell what he was saying. “-take Bentley to the Manor, and you can take me to Crime Alley. Nico-“

“I’m going to your house,” Nico replied firmly, hazy gaze fixed on Asten. “I can’t… I can’t let my parents see me like this. All screwed up and played with. I can’t.”

Titus stared at them, and Asten huffed. “Okay. Bentley to the Manor, us to Crime Alley. Then you can go wherever you want. Please. Please.”

That was the moment Bentley promptly remembered that Titus’s parents were dead.

“Please?” Nico added, a desperate attempt at getting Titus to oblige.

“I… can… only go where I’ve seen before,” Titus said softly, carefully unraveling himself from the ball. “I can do… Wayne Manor. Not Crime Alley.”

Asten huffed. “That’s fine, that’s fine. We can figure that out after we get Bentley home.”

Titus let out a puff of air, then stepped forward slowly. He reached out, hesitantly, like they would bite him, and then he grabbed onto Asten and Nico’s wrists. “Don’t let go of him,” He ordered softly, gesturing to Bentley. “It’s gonna feel weird. Might hurt. Ready?”

Bentley wasn’t sure if he could survive any more hurt in one day.

Right then, a group of guards — probably ten — turned the corner into the hall. Bullets clinged wildly against the window of the room, not even making a dent in the glass.

“Go now! Go now!” Asten ordered. Titus closed his eyes, squeezed Bentley’s friend’s hands tighter, and then the world swam.

Bentley squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like he was falling, like he was spinning and whipping around in the air with zero control of where he was going. It felt like he had pins and needles across his entire body — the burn of his atoms being ripped apart and put back together in another location.

It only lasted for a split second, before there was a loud whooshing sound, and the ground seemed to rush into Bentley’s feet so hard he stumbled. It was cold, and Asten wasn’t holding onto him anymore, and he was laying on wet grass. He winced when the impact sent waves of pain pulsing through his whole body.

The only things that kept him conscious were the muted groans came from around him, so he looked up. The first thing he saw was the nights sky — big and black and cloudy. He, Asten, and Nico were sprawled on the dewy grass of Wayne Manor’s front courtyard, and Titus was in the middle of them, just standing there like nothing happened. He was spinning around, though, looking at the sky like he had never seen it before.

The Manor was there, glowing against the darkness of night. He didn’t know what day it was, what time it was, but he was home. Bentley had never wanted to bawl his eyes out more.

He used all of his remaining strength to haul himself out of the grass, his friends doing the same with grumbles of discomfort. His entire body seemed to be throbbing and screaming and he pretty much felt like a balloon with the amount of floating his head was doing.

“Want me to come with you?” Asten questioned, brushing dirt off of his hospital down. Bentley shook his head.

“No,” He replied, bringing his hand up to rest against his injured arm. God, he looked like a disaster. He felt like a disaster.

And Davis might’ve been dead.

“You guys go. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” He forced the words out of his mouth, looking back at them, probably some of the hardest things he’d done. He wanted to pass out so bad. So bad.

“You’re planning on telling them?” Asten questioned, his voice laced with a little tinge of venom.

Bentley blinked, glancing between Nico, who looked terrified, and Asten, who looked suspicious. Even Titus, who was crying now (Bentley guessed it was because he was free?) turned to look at him.

“I… uh…” He did not have the capacity to make a case right then. He just wanted to go inside.

“You can’t tell them, Bentley. You’ll never be allowed out of the house again, and you’ll probably be banned from seeing us for the rest of your life,” Asten stated, throwing a hand to the side. “Plus, you’ll never see the Secret Keeper destroyed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nico questioned, crossing his arms and peering over at Asten with a dull glare mixed with tears. “We just got kidnapped. Bentley got shot. I got turned into some kind of monster… how can you still care about that?! We could’ve died.”

“Because the Secret Keeper killed my parents! I’m not resting until she’s underground.” Asten shot back, and the lot of them went still. Bentley wasn’t sure if he should pretend he didn’t know that or not, so to play it cool, he just stood there.

“You can’t tell Bruce, Bentley,” Asten directed his attention back to the redhead. “Lie to him; tell him you just got kidnapped and never saw us. We’ll be hiding out at my house, and no one will find us there, so we’ll still technically be missing. It won’t be so suspicious if we don’t show back up at the same time.”

A pit formed in Bentley’s stomach when he thought about lying to Bruce again, after all of that. It made him want to cry. All he wanted was to let them handle it.

He breathed in, stumbling faintly to the side. “I… I don’t…”

“You can’t tell him not to tell his dad, Asten. He got shot,” Nico spoke up, crossing his arms lightly. “That was freaking traumatizing and you’re asking him not to tell his family about it?”

“You’re hiding out at my house to avoid yours!” Asten argued, flicking a hand toward Nico.

“Because they’re not my real family!” Nico exclaimed, and Bentley blinked. Apparently they’d entered into truth-telling hour. “I’m adopted, and I can’t freaking look at them, okay?”

There was a brief moment of silence where Asten sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re into the whole can’t-tell-anybody-how-upset-I-am-so-I-bottle-it-up-and-act-broody thing, but not everybody is you, Asten. Some people will destroy themselves doing that,”

Asten huffed, looking back at Bentley and tossing his hands to the side. “Fine. Tell them whatever you want, Whittaker. I’m going to beat her with or without you. Let’s go. Gotham Heights.”

On command, Titus put a hand on both Nico and Asten’s shoulders, and without another word, they whooshed away in a mixture of color and wind. Bentley was left alone.

He breathed in the cold outside air, turning back to look at the Manor. He really had intended on telling Bruce everything, but now, he wasn’t sure what to do.

For now, he settled on dragging himself to the front door.

What was he going to say? How was he going to explain? He was pulling himself shot and half dead up to the door of Wayne Manor after hours, maybe days of being missing. He’d run away, broken into a cabin, gotten kidnapped, experimented on, watched one of his friends get turned into a metahuman, and got teleported home by a boy with superpowers. How was he supposed to tell them that?

Plus, he was pretty sure as soon as he saw somebody’s face, he’d start crying.

He made it onto the front entrance, facing those massive wooden doors just like he had the night Nightwing brought him to the Manor for the first time. Why were those doors scarier now than they had been then?

Bentley glanced down at himself. At his half-red hospital gown, his botched shoulder, his bare feet and bloodied skin. He looked like a disaster. He felt like a disaster. He was a disaster.

What was he going to say?

With not much more motivating him than the fact that he felt like death, he lifted a hand and tried the doorknob. Locked.

With a puff of air, he knocked.

A few terrible moments passed where he stood alone on the front step, waiting to see if salvation would come.

And then it did.

The door to Wayne Manor swung open.

“Bentley?”

Like that was the exact moment his body had been waiting for, the darkness he’d been fighting all night finally swept him away. And he let it.

—

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