#daemoninwhiteround2

Listen, it’s not MATCH’S fault he has to be a slut to accurately impersonate Superboy, that’s all ON Superboy. Just an unavoidable necessity of doing his job; like, sorry he’s so dedicated to his work?? Sorry he's METHOD?? Sorry you’re not as good at YOUR job as he is at HIS???? That sounds like a personal problem, on your end. Skill issue.

Thank you for helping me work towards my Nanowrimo goal! 💙

The boy at his feet is on the verge of hysteria. Tears streak his cheeks, the ocean of those blue eyes overflowing past his bitten lips and trembling chin. His face is upturned to Apollo like a sunflower to the sun, the radiance of his countenance endearing.

Apollo runs the crook of a ringed knuckle down the boy's cheek, pausing to tilt his chin up ever higher. "Not yet, pet. I don't want to hear a peep from you. Understood?"

The boy whimpers, but nods his agreement, the whole of him rattling with the effort of keeping himself contained. The hands that cup his breasts are curled into claws, his own nails leaving little half crescents in his soft flesh.

Apollo drags a fingertip over them, meandering across the valleys of Jason's chest before he finally seeks out those peaks.

Jason trembles — once, bodily — when Apollo's nail grazes the edge of his nipple. But he holds steady, a fierce determination set across his handsome features.

The mage takes the opportunity to revisit their first lesson. "You recall your instructions, starlight?"

Jason swallows, and nods.

Apollo draws a fingertip around those swollen teats, and Jason's thighs dip together, the muscles there clenching hard to tamper down the urge that rises in him. Apollo can feel it like a blastwave kept at bay, radiating from the capsule of his body.

He lets his finger still, to grant the boy some leniency. He's been so gracefully obedient, after all.

"Remind me," Apollo purrs.

Jason licks his lips, breath trembling when he opens his mouth. He pauses, lashes fluttering, when even that small motion jostles the weights hanging from his tits.

He perseveres. "Don't come unless permitted."

The pride that washes over him at Apollo's, "Good boy," could sustain the mage for eons. He's gluttonous in the wake of it, hungry for all that the boy has to offer him.

The tears in his eyes make the hope in them gleam even brighter when Jason entreats, "Sir, if it please you, may I—"

"Not yet," Apollo reminds him, and taps once, firmly, on the clamp pinching his teat.

Jason's jaw snaps shut audibly, to cage the cry that rips up his throat. It comes out as nothing more than a vibrating moan.

His hips jerk, once, before he manages to claw back some control. All of him wound so beautifully tight. Apollo yearns with the thought of what that grip would feel like around his cock.

He uncrosses and recrosses his legs, leaning back to survey Jason. The boy's eyes follow his movements like a satellite trapped in his orbit, all of him tethered to Apollo.

"You have been so well-behaved, though," Apollo admits, and all of Jason sings with the praise. Apollo traces the line of his collarbone, rubbing cool sweat between his callouses. "Would you like to come for me, Jason?"

The relief that ripples through his body is almost enough to undo him. It's no small feat that Jason manages to pull himself together enough to nod and whisper, "Please, sir."

Apollo smiles, beatific. "This time, then, you may come. But, pet—"

Jason leans into his focus, entranced by the opportunity to please. Waiting with baited breath for Apollo's next instruction.

"I want you to get loud for me. Could you do that?"

"Yes, sir," is Jason's emphatic response. The hands cupping his tits knead, presenting them for Apollo to tease.

He does, drawing featherlight patterns over the sensitive flesh, flicking at the nubs to have Jason whimpering and moaning. It's too easy, to work the boy up to the edge he's been toeing their whole session, dancing on the precipice of his climax. Awaiting Apollo's permission to take that plunge.

Apollo shifts until his fingers are poised over the nearest clamp. Jason's skin is prickling with his eagerness, all of his focus narrowed to Apollo's steady touch.

"Don't forget to scream, pet," Apollo reminds him, and unclasps the clamp in one swift move.

Jason howls. All of him ricochets into the swell of sensation, his entire body vibrating with the purge. It pours through Apollo like a flood, licking at his veins with a heat that rivals a forest fire.

He's all at once sated and greedy, fingers flashing out to latch onto the boy's tit, pinching and twisting as he jerks through his orgasm, jaw open on an endless cry.

It's with inhuman restraint that Apollo pries his fingers away. Leaning back to put physical distance between himself and the boy kneeling at his feet. Apollo feels crazed, ignited by the power he wields over his fount.

He's never had a fount so willing; Jason took to his newfound role with such enthusiasm and passion that even Apollo finds it difficult to service at times. The boy is an endless font of radiant energy, enough to fuel Apollo a thousandfold.

He doesn't think he'll ever tire of Jason's efforts. The boy is a beauty, so eager to please and succeed. Some days Apollo is unsure if he's leading or being led by Jason's enthusiasm.

At his heels, Jason's chest heaves with a slowing pace. The remaining clamp glints in the torchlight, beckoning Apollo in closer, begging for his touch as much as Jason is.

He thumbs the metal, smiling at Jason's sharp intake of breath when he asks, "Ready for another so soon, starlight?"

2,836 / 50,000

Robin wasn’t poisonous, so yey!:D 

Now, to followup on the previous installmentXD

Dick returning to the centre with a row of sucker bruises on his body pretty much lighted a fire under everyone’s asses, because it was quite obvious this wasn’t a stray octopus that helped him to the shore. They most probably had an octomer on their hands! 

The mer team was brought on board and they were all very concerned, because octomer were always a problem - they were usually very territorial and violent and a problem most of the time to have on the outskirts of your kingdom. They don’t subscribe to established borders or politics, they do their thing and usually cause some sort of chaos. So, the mer are very invested in finding out the octo and checking what do they want?

A promising thing is that the octo in question seems to have saved Dick’s life, so they are probably not a homicidal murderer, but still, they are a concern. 

Dick involves himself into that situation 100%, because maybe he’s being naive, but he feels that the octomer in question didn’t have bad intentions. He wants to protect the creature if the need arises and he wants to thank him. And he wants to be the one to research that new mysterious species:O 

However, it takes forever to find any trail of the elusive octomer. The sea around the island is dangerous for humans and underwater there’s a lot of rocks and crags and tight, sharp spaces not easy for the mer to search. The theory emerges that maybe the octo was there just for a fortunate moment and then swam away? Maybe it was a fluke. 

Dick is not convinced, though. He visits the reef as often as he can, this time armed with a radio and provisions, because he isn’t stupid. He spends time walking up and down the beach, diving into the reef, exploring as much of the underwater as he dared. Usually, he’s accompanied by a mer on the order of Bruce - who was unwilling to let his son get stranded again:O 

Then, weeks later, Dick ended up doing a late overtime - because due to his new project all of his other ones suffered and he had to catch up. 

So, in the afternoon he’s walking down the beach around the centre, trying to get his head around the few paragraphs of his thesis when his eyes catch something. A bit of colour being washed back and forth by the waves. As he’s nearing it, his stomach drops and he rushes, because he knows that colour! It’s Robin! 

Indeed, it’s the little octopus, ad Dick knows it’s him, has to be! This time he isn’t tangled in a net - even worse, his arm seems to be trapped in a split of a big piece of driftwood. 

“You little klutz!” Dick exhales, kneeling in the water by the octopus and getting a hold of the driftwood. “We have to stop meeting like this!” 

Robin is so tired that he doesn’t put up a fight, hanging limply as Dick lifts him and tries to free him. The driftwood splits easily in his hands and Robin is free, but too weak to swim away. 

Dick picks him up and carries him deeper into the water, trying to revive him a bit, and it’s working slowly. Robin starts to move a bit more while Dick is cataloguing all the little changes since the last time he’s seen the octopus.  He knows that the chance it can be the same octopus is slim, because they don’t tend to live that long, but one can hope, yes? And this one is bigger than Robin was, and also just looks... looks a bit more worn out. And is just as klutzy.

When Dick is standing in the water up to his waist, Robin is getting lively and then - suddenly and without warning - shoots out of his hands and disappears from sight. Dick startles and laughs. “Jeez, no thank you again, eh?” 

Then he turns out to return to the shore, new information in mind - at least he tries to. 

He can’t, because the moment he makes a move, something tugs on his waist and he’s spun back around. 

Heart in his throat, Dick freezes and lets his hands drop into the water, and there it is, a slick, slippery thing wrapped around his waist. A look down reveals just a dark shape, but the touch tells him the texture is familiar. He presses and it flexes and he can feel the press of the suckers on his skin. Jesus, it’s thicker than his arm and taking into account the usual scale of these things... 

There are people on the shore, he can see them away from the corner of his eye, but he can’t move, his throat is closed, he can’t move...

A panicked, frantic search gives him nothing, he can’t see under the water, the sun is low and he can’t see under the water....and then the light reflects off the water just right and he sees two bright spots just above the surface. He stares. They blink. 

Dick starts to shiver, but can’t tear his eyes away from the two lights that slowly, slowly raise. And there is skin around, there is a face they belong to, but it’s black like a void and he can only see it by the shine of the water flowing down. Speechless, he looks on as the head and neck and shoulders emerge from the water. 

He can’t move, because it’s hypnotic, it’s terrifying, he can only tighten his hands on the tentacle holding him in place, otherwise he’d fall down... this is mesmerising, fascinating, terrifying, he’s going to be killed, isn’t he? His first octomer and it’s going to kill him!

“H-hey,” Dick finally manages to choke out of his tightening throat. “Nice to... to meet you...?”

The eyes look at him for a long minute, from across the distance that again made the calculations in dick’s head happen... Then the eyes move forward, the silent figure draws closer and the colours start to change. The splash of dark around Dick blossoms into red and shit, shit! For a moment he thought hit was blood! That he was wounded and simply didn’t realise! And then his brain caught up and he almost pissed himself, because the calculations he did in is head? They were way off, the spread of the body around him was fucking immense! TAT 

And then the human part of the mer turned horror-movie bloody for a moment and then finally finally it settled on a human-skin colour... Dick’s skin colour. 

It wasn’t at all like the sea-mammal mer, the eyes were bigger, flatter, the hair very short and the mouth seemed wider than...

Oh, really?

“Really?” Dick gasped, eyes glued to the mer’s chest. “You little shit, really?!”

@atasteforsuicidal mentioned something like this, too! So two for one fill! 💕💕😍

The Longest Distance

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

Bruce wondered how many times he could ignore the call before she decided to just appear in Gotham. He didn’t think it was many. Sighing, the alpha answered the phone. 

“What did you allow my son to do?” 

“Good afternoon, Talia.” He remarked dryly. “So wonderful to hear from you.” 

“Don’t get smart with me, Beloved.” Bruce rolled his eyes.

"Talia, Damian is an adult. I don't let him do anything. ‘Your son’ makes his own decisions." 

She clicked her tongue. "When he is acting thus he is decidedly your son." 

Of course. He suppressed a growl. This. This is why they hadn't mated. It had nothing to do with her father at all and everything to do with how aggravating the omega woman was. 

It had everything to do with her father and the League and how different their values were. How manipulative Ra’s was. How toxic. Even today he still loved her. 

Quietly, she added, "You know his grandfather will kill the pup. He is not Al Ghul blood."

Bruce couldn't suppress the snarl that rose from his throat. "If Ra's sets one foot into Gotham, he'll regret it!" 

She purred soothingly through the line. "I will keep him out. For as long as I can.” Silence stretched on the line. “He has his methods, Beloved." 

“I know." 

He'd already taken that into account. Already put plans into place. He wouldn't risk the life of his new grandchild -- the pup of the pack -- on a lack of strategy. Not when one of his greatest threats was his own great grandfather.

"What is he like?" Talia asked, the longing well hidden in her voice. To anyone but Bruce. 

"You could call him, you know." 

"I cannot." Her voice was stiff -- immovable.

"You could." 

 She sighed, "You know why." 

"You're both being ridiculous. He misses his dam." 

 "It's better this way." 

 "For whom?" Bruce turned in his chair, arching an eyebrow at himself at the reflection in the window.

"Enough of this! Tell me of my grandson!" 

 Shaking his head, Bruce began to talk. 

Of the laughter that the pup -- the kit, as Damian insisted -- brought into the manor. The light. On the other end of the world, the Daughter of the Demon wished.

We are happy to announce that @daemoninwhiteround2 is part of the zine! She’s a writer for the first volume!

Why yes, Mingi had a basket on his head, because he is a six foot child and I love him.

This is Mingi:

This is also Mingi:

7.  Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

I answered that one for stevie, HERE  😘

8.  Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Really anything from the first three or so chapters of Therapy is some of my favorite dialogue BUT!!!

This is from Legacy of the Cowl, and I’ll tell you why after...

There’s very little conviction in his voice as he says, “B said it was too important to risk telling even you. The fewer people who knew, the fewer people who had the burden. And it was my burden, my lie. Not yours. I’m the oldest. I carried that so you didn’t have to.”

Predictably, Jason goes rigid at the weak defense, preparing to set the oldest straight on that bullshit. Tim rolls his eyes and heaves a great, exasperated sigh. Even Damian scoffs from where he stands at Jason’s side, one hand gripping the older boy’s arm in what Tim can only call an attempt to comfort.

“Come on, Dick,” Tim says reasonably before Jason can. “You’re better than that. You’ve never shied away from telling Bruce where to shove it when his orders are bullshit. You’ve never let Bruce overrule your conscience. There was no risk in telling us the truth. We all carry each other’s secrets. We would die before we betrayed you, before we compromised your safety. And you know that. This thing we do doesn’t work on any level without that base level of trust.”

[and a little later...]

"Dick. I... I don't want to give up being Batman," he starts, silently amused by the way Dick's eyes go wide. "I just kinda... assumed you'd want it... expect it, really." Jason smirks. "You know, what with you being the oldest and it being your job to carry that burden, so we don't have to and all."

The smile on Dick’s face widens into a real grin. "Ha ha, very funny." Then he takes Jason's other hand so that he's holding both. Jason feels his cheeks heat. "Jason. I've never wanted to be Batman. I think I did alright while I was, but... there just wasn't a better option at the time. Truth is, that's... just not me. I don't like who I am in the cowl. I don't really know how to explain it—"

(I actually really like the next couple lines of dialogue too but I had to choose and this is the relevant stuff)

Ok. So. 

That bullshit Dick says about being the oldest? THOSE ARE HIS EXACT WORDS. From the comics. When the boys find out he’s been alive the whole time.  

Let me tell you, as an oldest sibling (I have three little sisters, just like Dick has three little brothers) that kind of shitty excuse absolutely does not fly. You want to patronize and insult your younger siblings, there’s no faster way to do that than to imply that they can’t handle something because they’re younger than you. And like, legitimately, I would never ever say anything like this to my younger sisters over anything because not only would it piss them off, it’s a fucking stupid position across the board. I’m protective of them too, but I also respect them.

Frankly, even the way I wrote it, Dick gets off easy. My sisters would have absolutely verbally beaten me into the floor. 

But the way King wrote it? Where everyone is just kind of like, “oh yeah that makes sense”? Bollocks. 

9.  Which fic has been the hardest to write?